#and maybe it’s because I just don’t get it and I know he went through a LOT of stressful shit in season 2 but. seeing him so aggressive and

[strnilolover]

IK YOU HAVENT WROTE THE BLURB YET BUT 🌝

dumb!gf def steals matt's paper after the test because she blanked out the entire unit and dosent know anything 😭

the classroom was dead silent, save for the occasional scribble of pens on paper. matt leaned back in his chair, satisfied as he scribbled down the last answer on his test.

his eyes glanced over at you, seated at the desk next to him, expecting to see you furiously writing. instead, he was met with your wide-eyed, frozen expression, your pencil hovering uselessly over a blank test sheet.

uh-oh.

before he could ask what was wrong, you suddenly perked up, head turning to matt as you smiled shyly. “psst, babe,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. he furrowed his brows, leaning forward in his chair as he leaned to the side closer to you, whispering back, “what?”

“i don’t know anything,” you hissed, clutching your test as though it might magically fill itself in. “i completely blanked on this unit!” you say, frowning slightly. matt sighed, glancing toward the teacher, who was busy at her desk, then back to you. “babe, we literally went over this all week. how did you forget it already?”

“yeah, well, apparently my brain didn’t get the memo!” you shot back, eyes darting nervously around the room. your head hurt, it was empty, the test jitters jumbling your brain to where you couldn’t even think of anything—you knew the answers before you started and now they were just gone.

before matt could respond, you leaned over, grabbing his completed test, and swapped it with your own in one swift, brazen move. his jaw dropping open quickly as a small gasp escaped his lips.

“what the—?!” he whisper-yelled, his voice strained with disbelief. “shh!” you shushed him, glancing at the teacher again. “just let me borrow it, okay? i’ll give it back in, like, five minutes.”

“five minutes?” matt hissed, leaning closer. “this isn’t some group project! you’re going to get us both in trouble.”

“relax,” you said with a nonchalant wave of your hand, eyes glued to his test as you started copying his answers as fast as you could. “i’m just borrowing your genius for a little while. you’ll thank me later when I’m not crying over a failed test.” you say, looking over your shoulder as you smiled.

matt groaned quietly, running a hand through his hair, but he couldn’t help the small smirk tugging at his lips, keeping a wary eye on the teacher. “if we get caught, i’m blaming you.”

your head nodded as your pencil flew across the page. “noted,” you said cheerfully, completely unfazed. “now, keep watch, babe. i’ve got this.”

matt sighed again as he slouched in his seat, playing the reluctant lookout. “you owe me so much for this.” he mumbled. “oh, i know,” you replied with a wink, fully focused on his test. “maybe i’ll buy you snacks later.”

[marauder-misprint]

The Morning After

Series Masterlist

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

1.3k words

cw: fluff

The next morning, you aren’t talking to anyone. You are far too in your head with conflicted feelings about yesterday’s date to converse with anyone. But that doesn’t mean that you don’t feel all the eyes on you. Word of your date with Sirius had quickly spread beyond your friend group. There are whispers accompanying the stares but your ‘don’t talk to me’ face wards off any questions directed at you, for the most part. 

“Well?” Regulus asks as soon as you sit down across from him at breakfast. 

Dorcas leans her elbow on the table so she can get a full look at you. Instead of answering Regulus, you reach for a mug in front of you and it’s filled with tea by the time it reaches your lips. Regulus waits a moment after you set the mug down before giving Dorcas a pleading look. 

“How was it?” Dorcas asks.

You hum. “Could use some sugar. Can you pass it?”

Regulus holds out the container of sugar cubes for you.

“We’re not talking about your tea,” he says. His voice is teetering on impatience. 

“No?” you retort blandly. You didn’t want to talk about the date until you knew how you felt about it. 

“How was your day with Sirius?” Dorcas asks. 

You take another sip of your tea and nod.

“Much better,” you mumble. 

Dorcas and Regulus share an annoyed look.

“Can’t you just get the rundown from Marlene later?” Pandora asks Dorcas with a hand gesturing toward the Gryffindor table. “Seems like Sirius is more talkative this morning.”

Sure enough, when you turn around, you can see Sirius deep in a lively conversation. He’s surrounded by his usual crowd, all of whom are leaning in, captivated by whatever he’s talking about. James throws his head back laughing as Marlene says something. By the looks of the rest of the group’s reaction, it was an insult aimed at Sirius. 

Facing Regulus again, you sigh. “It was… fine. He wasn’t a complete arse.”

Dorcas’ face lit up. She had hoped the date went well because if you started actually dating Sirius, she’d have another Slytherin in their Gryffindor group. The Gryffindor group that already liked you. 

“Sooooo, will there be another?” she asks eagerly. 

Your face snaps towards hers. “I don’t know,” you say bitterly. “Maybe? Probably not?” You groan and rub your temples. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Like what?” Dorcas crosses her arms. She obviously wants to know every detail about  your date and why there won’t be a second one. 

“Isn’t there a quidditch match coming up? Last one of the term?” 

“Yeah, but that’s not nearly as interesting as-” 

You threw a slice of toast at Regulus to shut him up.

“Talk about quidditch or I’m eating in silence.”

---

At that moment, you want to be left alone so you can work on your assignments. You can’t work in your dorm, Dorcas and Pandora would hound you for details about the date. You can’t work in the common room, same thing but with Regulus and maybe Evan and Barty since they were nosy. You drag yourself to the library and search for an empty table that’s semi-out of sight. You really hope people respect the unwritten rules of the library that when someone is working, you leave them alone. 

For the most part, they do. You are completely unbothered minus the few lingering stares and too-loud whispered comments. You work through it. It’s nothing too disruptive and one harsh glance from you often sent the culprits scurrying off. 

“-made progress, Moony. I really think she’s warming up to me!”

That voice. You stop writing, eyes wide as you continue to stare at your parchment. 

“That’s great, Padfoot, really, but can you help look for the book?”

“She confirmed that I’m attractive.”

“I know.”

“That has to mean something.”

“Maybe…”

“She didn’t say she wouldn’t write over Christmas!”

“Sirius!” The second voice, that you recognized as Remus, was growing irritated. “We can talk about her later. The Charms essay is a bit more pressing right now.”

The Charms essay. The one you were currently working on and had snagged several books for. You hear Sirius let out a soft groan. You look up in time to see them appear from the shelves next to you. Sirius pales slightly, realizing you probably just heard everything he said. You give them an awkward smile.

“Which book were you looking for? ‘Fraid I might’ve grabbed it,” you offer.

Remus approaches your table, leaving Sirius where he stood. “Tunnels and Tombs of Moldova.”

You scan the table and spot it among the pile of books you haven’t looked at yet. You point at it.

“You can take it. Just bring it back when you’re done?”

“Thanks,” Remus says quickly, grabbing the book and heading off to wherever he and Sirius are set up.

Sirius is still standing just beyond the bookshelf aisle he emerged from. He’s staring at you, waiting for you to say something. 

“You better go with him, Sirius,” you say after a moment. “I doubt Remus will write your entire essay for you.”

Instead of following Remus, Sirius walks up to your table, standing at your shoulder and looking down at your essay. 

“You did enjoy yourself yesterday, yeah?”

It’s one of the few times you’ve heard him sound so uncertain, so unsure of what your answer would be. You tear your eyes from your essay to look into his grey eyes. The uncertainty isn’t just in his voice but etched onto his face. Like he really cares what you have to say.

“It… it wasn’t bad. Don’t think I’ll be writing to you over Christmas, but you know,” you say earnestly.

He runs a hand through his hair.

“So that’s a ‘no’ on a second date then?”

Part of you wants to laugh. Did he really think you were interested? Were you interested?

“Sirius…” 

“Yeah?”

“Ask me again after the next quidditch match.”

The widest grin spread across his face, his eyes lighting up. 

“So there’s a chance! You are warming up to me!”

You give him a gentle shove in the center of his chest, causing him to take a step backwards.

“Don't push it, Black,” you warn as you turn back to your essay and reach to grab a new book from the pile. 

There is silence again so you assume that Sirius left your side to find Remus. You end up not needing the book that Remus borrowed from you. You finish the essay without it. You move onto your other homework and are about done when Remus comes back, holding the book. 

“Oh, are you leaving?” he asks, confused. 

You nod as you finish stacking the books on the table.

“Are you done with that book? You can just set it on the stack and I’ll get ‘em put away.”

Remus steps forward cautiously and puts the book on top of your pile. He’s eyeing you carefully.

“Are you playing with him?”

Remus’ tone is almost accusatory, which takes you aback. You focus on putting all of your work back into your bag as you answer him.

“No? I don’t think so? What do you mean?”

“I know you heard him when we were over here. Made him jump through some hoops to get you on a date. And now you’ve given him hope that there’ll be a second date. He’s giddy ‘bout it.”

Standing up straighter, you say, “I need time to figure some things out.”

“Hm.”

You watch Remus walk away before turning to tap the stack of books with your wand so they would return to their places. Sirius is giddy about the chance of a second date? You think that’s a bit of an overreaction, but you’re not sure if you can talk since you don’t know how you feel about him. He was so concerned about if you had a good time yesterday. You had had a good time. You’d be damned if you told anyone that right now. The more you thought about it, you didn’t not have a good time every time you were around him. Maybe if you got to know him a little bit more…

tags: @2dloveshp, @yearninglustfully, @made-for-oliverwood, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @hisparentsgallerryy, @itsseaberri, @corawithfanfiction, @devilslittlehelper, @jllyunn, @barnes70stark,

tags: @crowleythesexydemon, @flow33didontsmoke, @navs-bhat, @louweenier, @l0g0phobe,

@ellouisa17, @theendofthematerialgworl, @marina468, @bmyva1entine, @ravisinghs-wife

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 21: That's Been a Long Time Comin', Baby

You and Joel have a long overdue conversation. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 20, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Nothing really! Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 4.3k

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter

“You finally get arrested and it’s by goddamn rent-a-cops,” Tommy was beaming as he and Joel made their way from the police station to his truck. “Only you could make gettin’ in trouble this fuckin’ lame.” 

“It wasn’t a rent-a-cop,” Joel said, grinding his teeth. “It was university police.” 

“That’s a rent-a-cop.” 

“They’re real police!” Joel said. 

Tommy scoffed. 

“Not like you’re gonna have a record now.” 

“Only because they let me go without charging me with shit,” Joel said. “No idea why… Shouldn’t have even called you, wasn’t trying to waste your time.” 

“Not like you knew they were going to just let you go,” Tommy said, serious now. “I was Googling attorneys and shit, I thought I was going to have to bail your ass out for a change. Nice that they didn’t lock you up.” 

“Yeah,” Joel said as they reached Tommy’s truck. They got in and buckled up and Joel sighed, looking out the window. “Just wish I knew why.” 

He was at a loss. The police had hauled him out of your office so fast he didn’t even get a chance to find out what you were thinking, if you had anything at all to say. If he was right about the book, God he hoped he was right about the book. 

He thought - or maybe just hoped - that you’d show up at the police station. They threw him in a holding cell with a few college-aged fuckups and he watched the door, half convinced that you’d come walking in. Like if he just stared at it long enough you’d appear, come inside and walk right up to the bars and grab him and kiss him. Or at least yell at him. 

But you didn’t. 

Instead, he just stood there, watching the door, until a cop came over to take his information and  gave him the chance to call someone. Tommy got there about the same time as the same cop came over to tell Joel that he was free to go, at least for now. 

“So,” Tommy said eventually, drumming his hands on the steering wheel. “You gonna tell me exactly how you got your ass arrested by rent-a-cops?” 

Joel quirked his jaw. 

“Not saying you have to or anything,” Tommy continued. “But if you don’t tell me I will just make up some shit and it’ll be lame. Real lame. Like they caught you with a flask on campus and mistook you for a freshman lame.” 

“I…” Joel sighed. “I might have done something stupid.” 

“Likely thing for you to do,” Tommy said. 

“Fuck off.” 

“Sorry, sorry,” Tommy said. “I’ll lay off but… c’mon, man. This is weird for you. You got me worried, you don’t do shit like this.” 

“I know,” Joel said, wondering if maybe he’d done something like this sooner - like when he saw that fucking guy kissing you years ago - maybe everything would be different now. “I… I read Goldie’s book.” 

“Alright…” Tommy said, glancing his way. “Last time I checked, that ain’t illegal.” 

“It’s not,” Joel said. “But… I’d never read it before and… Look, maybe I’m crazy, maybe it’s all fiction but it don’t feel like fiction and… I think she… she might… she might feel the same way I do.” 

“Oh shit,” Tommy laughed, grinning like an idiot. “Fuck yeah, man!” 

“I went to talk to her,” Joel said. “But she was there with her fucking husband and I overheard one of her students say he hit on her and then I went to her office and he was kissing her and I… I just… I punched him.” 

“Good for you!” Tommy clapped him on the shoulder. “About damn time somebody put that jackass in his place. What’d Goldie say?” 

“Not much,” Joel sighed. “Not like we got a chance to really talk. Said the book was ancient history, asked why I cared… Kept hoping she’d show up at the station but…” 

Tommy pulled up alongside Joel’s truck and he sighed. 

“Least I wasn’t locked up when I needed to get Sarah from school,” he muttered. 

“Don’t matter,” Tommy said. “I’m gonna go get her.” 

“What?” Joel laughed. 

“Not going to let you chicken out on this shit,” Tommy said. “I got Sarah, you go talk to Goldie. Actually talk to her, not yell some shit at her and then punch her husband. You’re finally - fucking finally - doing something about it. You’re finally going after what you want and I’m not going to let you give up because you got arrested by some mall cop on steroids.” 

“Tommy…” 

“I’m serious,” Tommy said. “I’ll get Sarah from school, she can stay with me tonight. Go get your girl, Joel.” 

Joel smiled a little. His brother might have more faith in him than he deserved but goddamn, it felt good. 

“Alright,” Joel said. “I’m gonna go get my girl.” 

He went to call you, just in case you unblocked him, but his phone was broken, the entire outer case bent - probably from when one of the cops wrestled him away from your office. He considered, for a minute, just going back to your office but he didn’t want to get arrested again. 

So he went home, just to grab your book. He wasn’t really sure why but he wanted it. He wanted to hold it in his hands, have something solid and yours there with him while he did this. He took a quick look in the mirror, feeling a little like the boy he was when he went to pick you up for prom. Everything felt so consequential, the way his hair fell against his forehead and the way his shirt hung on his body, anything that might help you look at him like he was something worth wanting suddenly vitally important in his reflection. 

“Right,” he said to no one but himself before taking a deep breath. “Now or never.” 

He drove to your house. He thought about getting flowers or something on the way but what if that was too much? What if this wasn’t what you wanted and something like flowers made it worse? Why didn’t he just know what to do? Loving you felt like the most natural thing in the world, why wasn’t telling you just as easy?

He came to your door with nothing but your book in his hands and he was pretty sure you weren’t home but he knocked, anyway. He paced for a minute when you didn’t answer, then stood there, clenching his jaw and staring out at the road like a dumbass before he decided to just sit down and wait because what the fuck else was he going to do. 

After what felt like forever - but probably wasn’t much time at all - Joel opened the book. 

He wasn’t looking for anything in particular but he found himself lingering on the parts where Cressida and Eli were together and, if not happy, at least hopeful. He was reading a passage where they were all tangled up in each other and while it was sensual, the intimacy of it came from the deep knowing and understanding the two shared. It was a feeling, Joel thought, that could only be found in one person. He’d spent half his life searching for it again and never found it and he wanted it, he wanted it so bad it hurt. 

“When you said you read it, I assumed it was the whole thing, not just the first 50 pages.” 

Joel’s head shot up from the book and found you standing on your walk with your house keys in your hand. 

He jumped up, snapping the book shut when he did. 

“I did,” he said. “I was just… I wanted to read it again. Parts of it again.” 

You nodded slowly and walked up to him, stopping close enough that he could reach out and grab you and kiss you if you’d just let him. 

“I tried calling,” you said. “It went straight to voicemail.” 

“Oh, uh,” Joel passed the book from one hand to the other and pulled his phone out, holding it up as proof. “It broke, probably when I got arrested but… well, since you blocked my number, wasn’t too worried about it.” 

You frowned, eyebrows knitting together. 

“Blocked you? I didn’t block you.” 

“Think you did,” Joel laughed a little. “Believe it or not, turning up at your office wasn’t my first choice but I got a message that said your number was unavailable when I called so…” 

Your frown deepened and you pulled out your phone, scrolling on it for a moment before gaping at the screen. 

“Son of a bitch,” you swore. “That…” You looked at Joel again. “I didn’t block you, I’m guessing Gale did sometime in the last few days…” 

“Where is your husband?” Joel asked, looking over your shoulder. “Not gonna let me get another swing on him is he?” 

You laughed once. 

“He’s at the hospital,” you said. “I don’t think he’ll be showing his face here any time too soon.” 

“Good,” Joel said. “You deserve better than that asshole.” 

You smiled tightly. 

“What are you doing here, Joel.” 

“I…” he searched your face for some indication of what you thought, what you wanted, but even though he knew your face better than any other he couldn’t seem to read you. “I needed to see you, I had to see you, baby, I…” 

You bit your lip and he fought the urge to pull it free of your teeth and run his thumb over you there. 

“Let’s go inside,” you said. “We… we can talk. Just talk. If that’s OK.” 

His heart beat a little faster. He could work with that. 

“Yeah,” he said quickly. “Let’s talk.” 

***

Your heart was pounding, so hard and fast you thought Joel must be able to hear it. 

But if he could, he didn’t say anything. You just let the two of you into your house and tried to force yourself to stay calm, to not let your racing thoughts get too far ahead of yourself. 

You hadn’t expected to find him on your front porch when you got home. You’d called him. You’d called the police station again but he’d left by then. You’d even tried going by his house but no one was home and you had this sinking feeling that you’d blown it, somehow. Not that you even knew what ‘it’ was but it seemed as though the moment in your office was a breaking point you didn’t know existed and it was behind you now and there was nothing you could do to get it back. 

And then Joel was there on your porch, a copy of your book in his hands, one that he was reading so intently he hadn’t even noticed you drive up. 

You hung your bag on a hook and put your keys in the dish by the door and Joel followed behind you, his eyes intent enough on you that you could feel them even at your back. 

“Can I get you a drink or anything?” You asked, more for something to say than anything else because what the fuck were your supposed to say in this situation? 

“Not here for a drink, Goldie.” 

“OK,” you said, turning to face him as you stood in the middle of your living room because sitting down felt too strange. You crossed your arms over your chest to keep from touching him. “Why are you here, Joel?” 

“I read your book,” he said quickly. “And I know it took me long enough but I just couldn’t… I thought it was gonna be about you and that fucking guy but it wasn’t and… Goldie, I need to know if it was about us.” 

Your fingers dug into your arms as you tightened your grip on yourself, your stomach churning. 

“What does it matter if it was?” You asked. “I didn’t need to ask your permission to write about my own life, that’s not how that works and…” 

“No, Jesus,” he cut you off. “I… I don’t care, you can write about whatever you want with me but Goldie, is this how you felt? Back then, when we were kids, was this -” he held up the book “-how you felt?” 

You frowned and looked at the book. It was signed, your signature broad and looping on the dust jacket. 

“Where did you get that?” You asked. “I never signed a copy for you…” 

He lowered the book, looking at the cover for a moment before looking back at you.

“I bought it online,” he said. “Some charity auction thing, years ago. I… I wanted a copy that felt more like it came from you. Stop changing the subject, please, and just… we have to actually fucking talk about this, baby, we can’t keep avoiding it forever because it hurts. Please. It’ll wreck us both.” 

“Yes, OK?” You said, louder and more forcefully than you’d really meant to and you had to take a breath to calm down, closing your eyes because you weren’t sure you could look at him and admit this. “Yes, that… that’s how I felt.” 

“Goldie…” 

“Please don’t make this a thing, Joel,” you said, looking toward your windows because anywhere was better than looking at him. “Please don’t.” 

But he didn’t let you turn away from him. Instead, he closed the small gap between you and took your face firmly in his large hand, his grip on you tight. 

“Goldie,” he said softly. “Look at me.” 

You steeled yourself and obeyed, tears already starting to build and you tried to hold them back as best you could. 

“Do you still feel that way?” He asked quietly. 

“Don’t do this to me, Joel,” you whispered. “Please.” 

“Don’t do what?” He asked, his eyes tracing your face again and again. 

“Don’t ask me to…” you took a deep, shaky breath. “Don’t ask me to be the one to ruin everything. I can’t…” 

“I love you,” he cut you off. “There, now it ain’t you, it’s me.” 

“Joel…” 

“I love you,” he said it again. “I’ll keep saying it, I don’t care. I love you. I loved you then, too, and…” 

You pulled yourself away from him, shaking your head, desperate for some distance. It didn’t make sense, none of this made sense. 

“Don’t do that, don’t lie to me because you feel guilty or whatever,” you said, tears falling now. “I know how you felt, Joel, I heard you. If… if things changed, then… then maybe we can… I don’t know, but don’t lie and tell me that I was anything to you back then, alright? I know it was forever ago now, I know we were kids, but it still hurts, OK? It hurts, it hurts every fucking time I look at you but I just keep living with it because you’re worth it to me and-”

He grabbed you and kissed you then, harsh and rough and forceful and your body bowed to his instinctively, curving and arching into his touch, kissing him back desperately before you remembered what you were doing here and pulled back from him. Your eyes were wide, lips swollen, cheeks wet and Joel was panting for breath, watching you. 

“Don’t do that!” You shook his hands from you and wiped your mouth with the back of your wrist. “Stop trying to distract me, stop treating me like I’m just some girl you fuck, just stop!” 

“That’s not what I’m doin’, baby,” he said. His voice was calm, sure. “Swear I’m not.” 

“Then what were you doing in your kitchen?” You demanded, trying to make yourself calm down and failing. “After Sarah’s party, what were you doing then?” 

Joel looked like he was trying not to smile. 

“What!” You demanded. 

“You love me, too,” he said. 

“Joel.” 

“S’why you’re all worked up,” he said. “I love you and you love me, too. I’ll feel better when you actually say it, but…” 

You shook your head, your heart beating a frantic rhythm against your ribs. 

“You’re being mean,” you said. 

“I’m not trying to be,” he said. “I love you.” 

“Stop saying that.” 

“No,” he said. “I love you.” 

“Then why would you do that?” You cried. “Why did you treat me like I was just… just…” 

“Just what, baby.” 

“Just a warm body!” You said. 

“Baby…” 

“That’s what it felt like!” You kept going, on a tear now. “That’s what it felt like back then when you avoided me and you told your friend how it would have been better if you’d fucked anyone besides me, that’s what it felt like every time you avoided me because you caved to whatever baser instinct you had and touched me a few months ago, that’s what it felt like when you practically fucked me in your kitchen and made it sound like all we were to each other was some way to get off and that might be true for you, Joel, but it was never that way for me! 

“And it’s pathetic! Because when we were kids, I felt so bad for all the girls you’d fuck and leave. I pitied them! I thought they were so desperate and sad and then I turned into one of them! And I… I just…” 

“Just what,” Joel said softly. 

“I just…” your voice broke and your eyes met his. “I can’t be nothing to you, Joel. I can’t.” 

“Oh baby,” he said, so gently. He delicately took your face in his hands and dried your tears, thumbs curving over the arch of your cheekbones. “You’re everything.” 

You rolled your eyes and looked away, scoffing.

“Joel…” 

“You gonna let me talk for a minute?” He asked, brows raised, his hands moving to your shoulders. “Because I think we need to.” 

You sniffed and gritted your teeth for a moment but you nodded, anyway. 

“Well, you’re a lot smarter than me but you’re wrong about a lot,” he said. You opened your mouth to protest but he gave you a look and you closed it again and he smiled a little. “Thank you. Promise I’ll let you yell at me once this is all out, alright?” 

You just sniffled and nodded again. 

“I have loved you since that day on the football field almost 20 goddamn years ago,” he said. Your heart beat faster. “Pretty sure the first time I saw you holdin’ that damn gold notebook of yours I was a goner. I was just… I was young and dumb - still pretty dumb to be honest…” 

“Shut up,” you shoved him lightly. “You’re not dumb.” 

“No, I am,” he said. “Because I let my fear and my insecurity keep me from telling you all of this years ago. You were so smart and talented and driven and even then, I knew you were going to be something. Figured there wasn’t a chance in hell that you’d want someone like me so why would I try. All I’d do was fuck up what we had. But then prom happened and I panicked.” 

“You said anyone would have been better than me,” you said softly, searching his face for some sign that he was sugar coating this in some way. “I heard you…” 

“I know,” he said. “I didn’t know you’d heard me then but I know what I said. Took me a while to remember it after you told me but I did and… Look, I know… I know you think I was sleeping with those girls back in high school but… I wasn’t.” 

You frowned. 

“What?” 

“Prom night…” he sighed, wincing a little as he did. “That… that was my first time, too.” 

You looked at him like you were waiting for a punch line but none came. 

“But…” you shook your head. “You… You dated all those girls then and…” 

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Yeah, I was tryin’ to get my best friend out of my system. Didn’t work so well for me in the end and then all I really had going for me was that you thought I was cool and when you assumed I was sleeping with those girls I just… didn’t tell you you were wrong.” 

“What does that have to do with anything?” You were so close to him you were sure he could hear your heart racing. 

“Well, that meant that I didn’t know anything about sex besides porn and the bullshit they taught us in school,” he said. “So I went to talk to Ricky because I thought he’d actually know how to handle that shit and tell me how to handle it and… I was afraid, baby. I was afraid I got you pregnant, that I ruined your life and that’s why I said it. I didn’t want to fuck things up for you, I didn’t want to trap you with me when you deserved so much better than that. It wasn’t because I didn’t want you and it wasn’t because I didn’t love you. It’s because I loved you so goddamn much that I freaked out at just the thought of fucking your life up.” 

“Joel,” you whispered, your heart racing. 

“I never thought you’d just leave like that,” he said. “I thought… I thought I’d be able to talk to you, once I had a plan, once I knew I could make it all OK, once I stopped freaking the fuck out, I thought we could talk and figure it out.”

You just stared at him, open mouthed, for a moment. 

“I…” you managed eventually. “I didn’t…” 

“I know,” he said softly, gently. 

“I thought you didn’t care about me,” you said, almost choking on the knot in your throat. “I… I thought you saw me as some stupid, geeky girl who you just… I don’t know, got stuck with one day and I couldn’t… I couldn’t face that so I left, I went to school early and…” 

“I know,” he said again before he laughed once, darkly. “I know. I… I went to find you.” 

“What?” You asked. 

“Back then,” he said. “Eventually wore Anna down, she told me where you went and… well… I went to find you. Talk to you. Didn’t think you’d just pick up if I called your new number, figured you couldn’t ignore me if I showed up.” 

“But,” you frowned. “I’d remember you coming to Brown…” 

“I’m sure you would,” he nodded. “But you never saw me. I saw you, though. You were with him. I couldn’t take that, either, so I left.” 

“Oh my God,” you whispered, your eyes searching his, so open and honest. “You loved me.” 

He smiled a little, one of his crooked smiles, just enough to make his cheek dimple. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I loved you with your weirdly good breakfast sandwiches and too much cream in your coffee and your smart-ass movie commentary and your obsession with dippin’ French fries in Blizzards - which is still an abomination, by the way.” 

You laughed wetly. 

“Joel,” your hands found his waist, fingers tightening in his shirt. 

“Never stopped loving you, baby,” he said, taking your face gently in his hand. “Not since the day I met you, not for one second. Figured I was kind of a lost cause in that department, after a while. Thought I’d have to settle for whatever little piece of you you’d give me but now… well, now I’m hopin’ that book means you feel the same way.” 

You couldn’t seem to find your voice so you just nodded, fast and sure and he laughed, sounding almost giddy, before he smiled, big and broad and all encompassing, like you’d just given him the world. 

“Think I can try somethin’ I’ve been wanting to do for about 20 damn years?” He asked. You just nodded, still speechless, and Joel stepped closer to you, closing what little gap there was between your bodies. The hand not against your cheek went to the small of your back and he cradled you to him, his eyes searching yours, his nose brushing your own. You could feel every line of his body against your own and your breath hitched, his gaze locked on yours until the last second, your eyes closing just as your lips met. 

You’d kissed Joel plenty before, more times than you could possibly count, but it had never been like this. Every other time your lips had touched his, it had been with some pretense attached - because he was rescuing you from your shitty husband or to make you feel better about being alone on New Year’s or as the build up toward some physical release. You’d never gotten to kiss him because you loved him, you’d never gotten to kiss him because he loved you. 

It was slow, gentle, patient, like you had all the time in the world instead carrying the undertones of something illicit. He was soft and warm, his hands against you like you were a delicate, precious thing. Your lips moved with his, your mouth opening along with his, just enough that you could taste him, breathe him, feel some part of him settle inside of you with a grounding certainty. He loved you. Joel loved you. 

Your arms looped around behind him, holding him close but not too tight - you knew he wasn’t going anywhere, not this time - and you kissed him the way you always wanted to kiss the love of your life. 

Eventually, breathlessly, you pulled away from each other, just enough to look into each other’s eyes again before you both laughed a little, bodies still pressed close. 

“That’s been a long time comin’ baby,” he said.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “It really has.” 

“Think I can take you to bed?” He asked. “Think we have some lost time to make up for.” 

You just smiled and laced your fingers with his before leading your best friend to your room. 

A/N: I sincerely hope the end of this chapter wasn't a let down! I'd originally intended for them to sleep together in the same chapter as the confession but SO MUCH got laid on the table here it felt like adding their first time having honest, loving sex would be too much all at once, you know? But that is coming up next, I promise.

Special shout out to @dancingtotuyo, @dundienominee and @mysticnightmarewrites for helping me figure out how to close this chapter.

Hopefully, this conversation was at least somewhat worth the wait! Thank you for still being here, a small eternity after I started writing this story. I really do love you all so much!

Taglist: @kaseyconnour

[navybrat817]

Any thoughts for WETnesday with Bucky?🤭🤭

Okay, Syd. I wrote this after work for Wetnesday and promptly fell asleep. So, I'm posting this on Thirsty Thursday! And that has to be Mr. Barnes before you two are married.

Dinner Plans

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky doesn't want to be late for dinner, but you don't seem to be in a rush to go.

Word Count: Over 2.8k

Warnings: Established relationship, quick unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, lovelies), possessive behavior, a bit of humor and fluff, feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I love this couple, okay? @targaryenvampireslayer and @starlightcrystalline, I hope you enjoy! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was still early in the evening as Bucky got ready for dinner. Checking his watch once he put it on, he sighed. If he was late, Steve would give him a hard time. And if Steve gave him a hard time, Sam would only give him the gasoline to fuel the fire. Just the thought of it had his face shift to his grumpy stare you loved.

His gaze softened when you went to the vanity. Would the guys give him a hard time if he said he was in love and wanted as much alone time with you as possible? How being with you was like floating on a cloud and being pulled back down to earth all at once? He didn’t care if they’d call him out for being sappy. He sure as hell suffered enough in his life that he could afford to be appreciative of you and maybe a little selfish when it came to you.

But checking the time, he grumbled. “We were supposed to leave five minutes ago,” he said.

He would’ve rather gone to a hole in the wall kind of place or a diner to have dinner, but it wasn't his turn to pick the dinner out with some of the gang. Plus it was nice getting to dress up with you since you liked how he looked in suits. To be fair, you said he looked good in anything and he felt the same way about you. How you always managed to look like a goddess, he’d never know.

You hummed. “We still have a few minutes to spare,” you said, which he wasn’t sure how you knew since you hadn’t looked at the time. “And you are not dressed yet, so it’s not like we can head out the door.”

He paused to stare at you. “Neither are you,” he pointed out, licking his lips as you leaned forward a bit more as you applied your makeup. He shook his head after a moment, trying to snap himself out of the spell you always managed to put him under. “I’m bringing you one of my cardigans to put over your shoulders in case you get cold.”

Because the weather was nice for the evening, you picked out a sleeveless dress. He didn’t know if the restaurant would be cold though, and he didn’t want you shivering through the meal. You likely had something to match your dress, but putting one of his cardigans over you was like that extra touch of belonging to him in case anyone got any ideas.

“You just want one of your shirts draped over me like a big neon sign that says I’m yours and you don't want guys checking me out on my dress,” you said like you knew exactly what he was thinking. There was no reason to deny your words since it was the truth. “But I appreciate the thoughtfulness.”

“I do like my clothes draped over you,” he smirked. He liked having his smell on you, too. “But you know what I don’t like? Steve and Sam bitching if we’re late. It’ll spoil my appetite.”

“Aww, my poor super soldier,” you teased, smiling at him in your reflection and making his heart skip a beat. “If we’re late, you can just blame me. I won’t let them give you a hard time, okay?”

Bucky couldn’t blame you though. Not entirely. You were late getting in the shower thanks to him insisting on the two of you staying in bed. Serum stamina or whatever you wanted to call it, but he felt bad some days for his almost constant need. You didn’t seem to mind though.

“They won’t believe me,” he said, staring again when the strap of your bra slipped from your shoulder. “And baby, you know I adore you, but you need to quit distracting me so I can finish getting dressed.”

Ever since you moved in, you’d been a distraction in a wonderful way. He often found that he’d pause to look at photos or little touches you incorporated into the place, giving him a chance to reflect on memories you made together and even learn more about who you were before you met. Hearing your laughter or voice call to him from another room also made him drop whatever he was doing, too. Sharing a space with someone could be daunting, but it was easy with you, like you had lived together for years. It made him look forward to more.

“Me? Distracting you?” You turned your head toward him and gave him an innocent glance. You were anything but innocent. “I'm not doing anything.”

Bucky almost snarled. Like hell you weren't doing anything. Swaying your hips and prancing around in your lingerie before you sat to get ready, lingerie which barely covered your gorgeous tits and sweet cunt. He wanted to rip it to shreds or tear it off with his teeth. You wouldn’t mind, right? He could always get you more to destroy.

“Not doing anything? Look at you,” he said incredulously as you turned back to the mirror and pushed your bra up. He should’ve been holding your breasts. “Why aren't you wearing a robe?”

You tilted your head. “Well, you said before I got in the shower that we were in a slight rush, so I figured putting on the robe was a waste of time. At least I have my underwear on, though I know you’d rather I be naked.”

If Bucky had his way, you’d be naked all the time. At least, when you two were at home. Logically he knew he couldn’t have that at work, functions, or anything of that nature, but the image in his head was nice. “For such a rush you seem to be taking your time.”

“I'm not taking my time. I'm finishing my makeup,” you argued, carefully applying your lipstick. “Like it?” you asked, blowing him an air kiss. It was a pretty shade. It would look even prettier smeared around his cock.

He closed his eyes with a groan. Some days he felt like a caveman with the thoughts that consumed him. “You look beautiful,” he said once he opened his eyes. Like always. “Now get your dress on so I can show you off before I put the cardigan on you.”

“Show me off?” You slowly stood from your chair and gave him a generous view of your backside. His cock twitched in his pants, and there was no reason to hide the pure lust in his eyes when you turned to face him. “You flatter me, Mr. Barnes.”

He chuckled. It always did something to him when you called him Mr. Barnes. It was something affectionate, sweet. “I think you’re the one flattering me, Mrs.-” he exhaled before he could finish, and he heard the hitch in your breath across the room.

“What was that?” you asked breathily.

He adjusted the watch on his wrist and avoided your gaze. You were his girl, yeah, and the love you had for each other spoke volumes, but you weren’t his wife. Not yet. God, how he wanted you to be- for you to take his last name, wear his ring on your finger, be his partner in all aspects of life. He wanted it to be more than just a dream.

“I didn’t say…” He cleared his throat and put on a blank face, only because he didn’t know how you’d react. “Anything.”

Your eyes raked over him before you beckoned him forward with a finger. He swore no one would ever control him again after HYDRA brainwashed him, but you could’ve commanded him to do anything. It didn’t frighten him because you would never harm him, never take advantage of him. Taking him into your care and maintaining his trust was one of the ways you showed you loved him.

Once he stood in front of you, barely an inch away, you whispered, “Were you about to call me Mrs. Barnes?”

He swallowed hard, his heart racing. It was one thing to say you loved each other, to want a future together, but what if you weren’t ready when he popped the question? “I was,” he whispered back.

You smiled, not looking the least bit put off or afraid. He should've known it wouldn't bother you, especially with you being the one to say “I love you” first. “I think that has a really nice ring to it,” you said, your hands moving to unbuckle his belt.

“You think so?” he asked, forgetting for a moment that he was capable of breathing. “You like the idea of being my wife?”

Bucky would no doubt be the kind of husband who’d brag about you. He’d find ways to insert “my wife” in conversations just to let others know that you picked him out of everyone else on the planet. Not just that, he wanted people to know how proud he was to be your man and that he’d find reasons every day to be proud of you.

“I love it,” you confirmed, sighing when he ran his fingertips along your arms. “Makes my heart race,” you admitted. He could hear it. “Makes me wet.”

Bucky arched his hips and pressed up against you. “Baby, you’re gonna kill me,” he whispered, not stopping you as you unbuttoned his pants. He was thinking of just cancelling dinner so he could throw you on the bed and stay inside you for the rest of the night. “We need to-”

“Oh. Now might be a good time to tell you that Steve pushed the reservation back by a half hour,” you cut in, mouthing over his racing pulse. “He figured he’d message me since I’m better about checking my phone, and-”

Bucky picked you up with ease and tossed you onto the bed. Your wide-eyed expression as you bounced nearly had him busting out of his pants, and he didn’t hesitate to crawl over you and pin you down. Relishing in the moan you let out when he lightly bit your neck, he did it again a little harder. “No wonder you took your time and teased me,” he smirked when you squirmed beneath him. “My future wife.”

“My future husband,” you moaned, bucking your hips up. “Need you in me. We can be quick.”

You got a hand in his hair and forced his head up to yours, your tongue impatiently pushing into his mouth. He groaned in understanding, feeling just as desperate as you. Knowing how turned on you were at the thought of being his wife turned him on, and he could barely form a coherent thought as he took his cock out and gave it a couple of quick pumps.

“Say it again,” he demanded, shoving your panties aside and rubbing the head of his cock along your slit. He took his time earlier today stretching you, and he wanted nothing more than to feel you around him again.

And the way you reached between your bodies and gripped the base of his cock, he knew you wanted the same when you said, “Fuck me, my future husband.”

He eased in gently, making you whine. He thought he’d whine, too, for a second because of how good he felt. God, how good it would feel to hold your hand one day and feel his ring against your skin. “You okay?” he asked, dragging his thumb along your lower lip once he was fully inside you. You were tight still, so wet, and oh, he was going to fuck you and make it quick, but he wasn’t going to hurt you.

“I’m okay,” you whispered, starting deep into his eyes as you clenched around him with purpose and brushed his hair back. He tried to be still, tried not to thrust like a wild animal. “Are you?”

“I’m okay,” he promised, easing his hips back. “Just hold on while I fuck you.”

Your back arched when he slammed himself back in nice and deep, your cry bouncing off the walls. Here in the comfort of your home you didn’t have to smother any noises, didn’t have to keep quiet. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, how you were the queen of his world.

Being inside you all he got out was, “You feel so fucking good.”

And because you could read him like no one else could, you tenderly smiled. “I love you, too.”

He threw his head back as you clutched his arms, determined to make you feel good, determined to show you how much he loved you even as he fucked you. “Gonna put you on your hands and knees after dinner. Make you watch in the mirror while I fuck you,” he groaned. “Can imagine it's part of our honeymoon.”

“Please!’ you moaned, trying to meet his thrusts.

Bucky grabbed your thighs to lift you higher, uncaring if he ruined his pants for the evening. Watching you tremble beneath his, a vision of ecstasy, he was happy to stay there forever. Wrapped up in you was where he always wanted to be.

“Gonna come,” you moaned, reaching up to pull his hair again, your body quaking. “Bucky, please.”

Bucky groaned. He hadn’t rubbed your clit how he wanted to. Didn’t get to tear your bra off and tease your nipples. He did promise to fuck you later though, and he’d do all those things and more. “Then come for me,” he smirked, leaning down to say against your lips, “Future. Mrs.. Barnes.”

You got impossibly tight and the flood of wetness that gushed around him triggered his own orgasm, a rush of heat filling him as he filled you. His mouth fell open as you clung to him, and he heard you moan his name as your eyes went glossy. He wanted the image of you getting off to taking his last name etched in his brain for all time. He wanted his name to fall from your lips again and again on your wedding night.

The cloud in his mind began to lift. You, his future wife, were beneath him, still shaking, still holding him like a lifeline. He didn’t want to let you go either. “Holy… shit…” you panted.

He braced himself above you, trying not to crush you as the euphoria slowly faded. It never really went away though. Not with you. “Holy shit,” he agreed. He stayed inside you, your sweet mewl making him smile as he kissed you. “Is this a new kink?” he asked, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, touching his cheek. “New kink unlocked.”

Touching your lips with his once more, he chuckled. “You ruined my pants,” he teased. It wouldn’t have been the first time. The first time you rode his thigh and got your release all over it, he nearly came, too. “Good thing I have a few minutes to change.”

He cradled you close when he shifted to the side, making you moan again. “Yeah, well, you ruined my panties. Fair is fair.”

“I did,” he smirked, running his fingers along your spine. “Hey.”

“Hey what?”

“I love you,” he whispered, wanting to say it as often as he could. They weren’t just words, but a declaration, a promise.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back, tracing one of the buttons on his wrinkled shirt.

His lips brushed your forehead. He’d never get tired of hearing you say that. “If I asked you to marry me right now, would you say yes?”

He wouldn’t propose right this second. You deserved something more romantic. But in his heart, he just wanted to hear you say that you’d say yes.

You giggled, your eyes full of love. “I would say yes in a heartbeat,” you replied, kissing him gently. Your answer relieved him. “And I’d marry you anytime, anywhere.”

He raised an eyebrow. “But?” he asked, sensing a “but” in there.

“But don’t ask me right now, okay?” you smiled, in sync with his thoughts. “I mean, I’d like to think my pussy would make you propose now-”

“And it would,” he smirked.

You giggled again. “But ask me when I’m not expecting it… Whenever it feels right to you.”

“I will,” he promised.

“Looking forward to it.” You snuggled closer and missed his look of adoration. “Hold me for one more minute before we get ready to go?”

As if he could ever deny you. “I’ll hold you as long as you want,” he whispered.

He no longer cared if Steve or Sam gave him shit should they show up late. If you wanted him to skip dinner just to hold you, he’d do it. If you wanted him to surprise you when he proposed, he would. And no matter when Bucky asked you to be his wife, he’d make sure it was perfect as it could possibly be.

AHH! I love them so much. How do you lovelies think he proposed? ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[airybcby]

Hello! I just read your “but my luck couldn't get any worse” and I’m obsessed with the crossover idea!

I would like to suggest Nagi with 🍓🍫

And if you cant get to it that’s totally okay ! I will be reading all the other ones anyways 🩵🥰

hi hi!!

a nagi seishiro chocolate covered strawberry :)

જ⁀♡⊹｡° hang up, give up

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event !

♡ content — nagi seishiro x gn! reader, gn! reader, i leaned very heavy into nagi being lazy, pls know ik there's more to his character but this made the story flow better, unrequited love, reo mentioned a lot, reo has slight feelings for reader, reader kinda likes reo, mentions of nagi being unhelpful

♡ synopsis — nagi seishiro wasn't known for being the most productive person, but even your feelings for him can't stop you from wondering what life would be like if you were paired with someone else

You didn’t expect much when your name showed up next to Nagi Seishiro’s on the list of marriage simulation pairs.

If anything, it felt like a cruel joke.

Nagi wasn’t someone who made an effort in relationships—platonic or otherwise. You’d known that for years. And yet, despite everything, you’d fallen for him. Slowly. Hopelessly.

He’d always been so unattainable, a puzzle you could never solve.

So when the simulation started, you tried to convince yourself it didn’t mean anything. It was just a program. A grade.

But being in close quarters with him every day made it harder to pretend.

Nagi wasn’t exactly the ideal partner.

He spent most of his time sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone or playing video games.

“You don’t have to do anything for this to work,” he said once, when you suggested setting up a schedule for chores. “We can just...exist. Isn’t that easier?”

You bit your tongue, unwilling to start an argument.

It was so typically Nagi—avoiding effort at all costs. And yet, you couldn’t stop the small flicker of hope in your chest.

Maybe this was your chance to finally break through his walls.

One afternoon, Reo stopped by to check in.

He’d been your friend for as long as you could remember, always lingering on the periphery of your relationship with Nagi.

“Still alive?” he teased, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk.

“Barely,” you muttered, glancing over your shoulder at Nagi, who was curled up on the couch, half-asleep.

Reo laughed, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “You deserve a medal for putting up with him, you know that?”

You forced a smile, unsure how to respond.

Because lately, you’d started noticing the way Reo looked at you—the way he always seemed to be there when you needed someone.

And it terrified you.

The turning point came during one of the simulation’s mandatory couple tasks: a mock date night.

You’d spent the entire afternoon trying to get Nagi to engage, but he’d shrugged off every suggestion you made.

“Can’t we just skip it?” he mumbled, burying his face in a pillow.

“No, we can’t,” you snapped, frustration boiling over. “This is important, Nagi. Can’t you at least try?”

He sighed, sitting up slowly. “Fine. Whatever you want.”

But his indifference stung more than you cared to admit.

Reo was the one who noticed your mood the next day.

“You okay?” he asked, catching you in the hallway after class.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Just tired.”

But Reo didn’t buy it.

“Hey,” he said softly, stepping closer. “You don’t have to stress out about him. If you ever help to get him to start doing things, I’m here.”

For a moment, you felt a pang of something warm and unfamiliar—comfort, maybe.

And it scared you. Because no matter how kind Reo was, your heart still belonged to Nagi.

As the weeks went on, your feelings for Nagi only grew more complicated.

There were moments when he seemed almost...present. Like when he helped you carry groceries up to the apartment without being asked, or when he casually draped a blanket over your shoulders during a movie night.

But those moments were fleeting, drowned out by his usual apathy.

And through it all, Reo remained a constant presence in your life, always there to pick up the pieces when Nagi let you down.

On the final night of the simulation, you found yourself alone with Nagi in the living room, the silence stretching between you like an unspoken truth.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” he said, his voice soft.

You hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

“I’m just...tired,” you admitted finally. “This whole thing—it’s been a lot.”

Nagi frowned, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t mean to make it harder for you.”

For a moment, you thought he might say more. That he might finally acknowledge the connection you’d been chasing all this time.

But instead, he stood up, yawning. “I’m going to bed. Night.”

And just like that, the moment was gone.

When the simulation ended, you packed up your things and said goodbye to Nagi without looking back.

Reo was waiting for you outside, his expression a mix of concern and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“You could have asked for help with him. I know he's kinda hard to deal with. ” he said again, his voice steady.

And for the first time, you considered the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Reo could be what you needed.

But as you walked away, your heart still ached for Nagi—for the boy who would never love you the way you wanted him to.

And you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to let him go.

i wrote this very late in the night and idk if i like it

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[totalswag]

heyyy can i request angst with drew, maybe they had a fight (totally a misunderstanding bc yk how we get when we’re on our period 😔) and he was just really mean to her, she feels real bad abt and later he apologizes plss 🙏

love your writing!!!

apologies in the after math ⎯ DREW STARKEY

authors note hi, thank you for your kind words. i hope you enjoy reading lovies. so close to 2k of you all, oh my gosh, i'm so grateful!!

masterlist

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set to go.

summary its the time of month and you get overstimulated easily. drew and you have a little argument that leads you two for not talking for a bit till he comes into your shared room.

warning(s) being on your period, crying, arguing, cussing.

You started your period yesterday and have not been in the best. Your mood swings vary every single time during your period⎯don’t know what mood you’ll be. You've been lying on the heating pad since four in the morning⎯You're going through it now. 

The cloudy weather makes you feel peaceful, and you're snuggled up on the couch, watching movies to distract yourself from the cramps. This is your typical routine on your period because you don’t have a lot of energy to do anything in the very beginning.

Drew left the gym around seven in the morning and was heading home. He went with Chase, one of his Outer Banks castmates. He texted you that he was only around the corner from the house.

Drew came to the house, put his stuff down, stepped into the living room, kissed you on the cheek, and asked if you wanted to join him in the shower to ease your cramps.

"Come with me, baby; it will feel good," Drew encourages, kneeling in front of you and leaning forward, reaching, softly caressing your lower back.

Drew does everything he can to ensure your well-being during your period. He despised seeing you in pain and discomfort. He secretly brought you coffee, donuts, and your favorite flowers the last time you were on your period. He also respects your boundaries.

"I don't see why not," you shrugged, removing the blanket from your body and folding it before following Drew down the hall to your shared bathroom. 

A few hours go by, you are in one of your negative mood swings. You woke up from an hour nap. Drew and you had a fight⎯the fight began over something pointless. Of course it did. Drew had left his shoes in the middle of the hallway yet again, and as you stumbled over them, something inside you cracked. 

Drew casually dismissed your aggravation with a lazy, "Relax, it's just shoes," lightly chuckling, and you let out a rush of pent-up frustration.

"You're always doing this, Drew! You have no regard for anyone else's space or time. It's like, "Geez, are you even trying?"

His jaw tensed as he put down the drink he was holding. "Are you serious right now?" His tone was cut as a warning. "You're overreacting."

"Don't you dare tell me I'm overreacting," you said, your face flushing. "Maybe if you actually paid attention for once—"

"Fine!" he said abruptly, cutting you off. His voice rose, intense. "Do you want me to pay attention? Fine. But maybe you should quit looking for reasons to start a fight. Not everything is a major issue, you know."

The words felt like a slap. Tears welled up in your eyes before you could stop them, and you fought to let them fall. You stood paralyzed, unable to speak due to the lump in your throat. Drew inhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair and muttering something under his breath.

As time passed you didn’t say a word to Drew—both of you were quiet. You stayed in your shared bedroom scrolling through tiktok. Drew was somewhere in the house doing something.

There was a soft knock at the door, "Hey," Drew said, hesitantly and quietly.

You didn’t answer. Part of you wanted to stay stubborn, but the crack in his tone made your resolve falter. 

The door creaked open, and you could hear his cautious feet. "I'm sorry," he added, bringing his voice closer. "I should not have spoken to you like that. "I didn't mean it."

You peered out from beneath the cover, seeing his sorrowful gaze. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and his hair was ruffled, as if he had raked his fingers through it in irritation.

"I was out of line," he added, crouching near the bed. "I just lashed out." That is on me."

Drew continues to explain he was even more out of line knowing you are on your period and you have these little moments where you aren’t in the best of moods. He was validating your feelings, putting the blame on himself. However, you shouldn’t react that way to begin with.

The honesty in his tone made your throat clench.

"I'm sorry, too," you said quietly. "I didn't intend to provoke a fight. "I just..." I've been feeling lousy all day and took it out on you. "I should not have done that."

Drew shook his head softly. "No, do not do it. You are free to express how you feel. "I just want to be better for you."

He grabbed your hand and lovingly squeezed it. "Will you come out with me? "I have something to show you."

Curiosity got the best of you. The wonders of what he has for you. Was he doing something to make up for the altercation? So many things running through your mind. 

When you entered the dining room, your breath hitched. The table was set with your favorite dinner, and candles flickered softly in the dark lighting. An arrangement of your favorite flowers was placed in the center, their beautiful fragrance filling the air.

"I know it doesn't erase what I said," Drew replied softly, caressing the back of his neck. But I wanted to make it up to you. You mean everything to me, and I detest the thought of you thinking I don't care,” wrapping his arms around your waist, kissing your cheek a few times.

Your eyes welled up again, but this time with glad tears. You hugged him firmly and buried your face in his chest.

"Thank you," you replied softly. "This means everything to me."

He kisses the top of your head and wrapped his arms around you. "You mean everything to me," he said quietly back.

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[clrasecretdiary]

You're just a little bit too much like me | Spencer Reid x Reader

Enemies to lovers | angsty fluff

Word count: 1755

Warnings: Normal criminal minds type of violence, mention of guns and gunshots, age gap (Reader is about 25, and Spencer is in his late 30s)

Content: Spencer being an asshole because he doesn't know how to deal with his feelings and how you remind him of his older self, past Spencer trauma (implied but not directly mentioned), self-doubt, Post prison! Spence

It was a difficult situation, only your second week on the job and the first time you had to make that kind of decision. You went alone to a location where the suspect might have been at, all of your teammates were further away so, as reckless as you now recognize it was, you went there alone, instead of waiting like Spencer and Emily asked you too. You didn't want to lose your chance, there were more than 3 days on the field at stake here, you did not want to disappoint your colleagues and just stand there waiting like a dumb newbie, so you made the decision.

“I'm going in” You warn your teammates in the radio, not waiting for a response before storming into the unsubs house.

You bust the door open with your feet, storming into the house. As you look inside, you find the unsub taking his gun from a drawer. Thinking you had an advantage as his back was facing you, you rush to try and immobilize him, but somehow he managed to turn around and shoot you.

You growled in pain as your body dropped to the ground, just before you passed out completely you heard the sound of rushed footsteps. You heard two voices, one you recognized as Emily's going after the unsub, and the other as Reid's talking to you.

“Please don’t go to sleep, we need you awake” His voice was soothing, far different from the tone he always used with you ever since you joined the team this year, but he sounded so worried, and you really did try to stay awake for him, for your team, to show that you were okay and that they needed to go after what's important, the unsub, but you couldn't. The last thing you heard as your vision got black was him yelling at his radio, “Medical, we need medical right now”. And then, everything went black.

You are now back at your first day on the job. Still at your house, confused as to what outfit you should use, so anxious about being so young at the top team of profilers, even thought it was a last year internship you hoped to impress them enough that they would hire you officially for the team, so your anxiety was through the roof wondering whether you really deserved to be there (goddamn that impostor syndrome). But most of your worries went away when you met the team, you would never imagine that the best profilers in the FBI and maybe in the world would be such good, kind and even funny people. They all welcomed you, seeming excited to be able to work with you, except from one of them.

Doctor Spencer Reid, you had read about him and his genius mind, you even went to a couple of his lectures on forensic psychology, honestly? You were a fan, and you were so excited to meet and work with someone you looked up to. Unfortunately, he didn't seem as eager to meet his new coworker. He just stood there in the back, staring at you while you introduced yourself to the team, the most he did was mutter a “morning” when you sat next to him in the briefing room.

Never meet your heroes, they say.

Now, you're back at… Where are you again?

Your eyes begin to open, you're completely adrift until you finally begin to recognize the awful white light, and the coldness of the room. You're at the hospital, no idea as to how much time has passed.

Jennifer comes into your line of vision, holding your hand, “Hey, how are you feeling?” her voice is calm, as she watches you sit up in the hospital bed.

“I'm fine, I think... I didn't even realize what happened back then. Oh shit, did you guys catch him?” You abruptly try to sit up, remembering how you couldn't get the unsub when you got shot, guilt washing over you as you started to piece together what happened

“Hey slow down, Emily went after him and made the arrest, the victim was rescued. He shot you, but it just grazed you. You did lose a lot of blood, that's why you passed out, but the doctors say you'll be fine to leave today. Don't worry.” She says as the doctor comes in to do his final checking.

You just agree with your head, lost in your own thoughts. You knew it wasn't your fault that you got shot, but still you felt so stupid. The hurt of not being able to catch the unsub might've been even bigger than the one from your wound, all of them had been in even more difficult situations than you and made it out without so much as a scratch, and you couldn't even catch an unsub that was alone?

After a few hours, you were back on the jet, finally heading home. The guilty was still bothering you, and you even apologized for the mistake. Hotch just asked you to be more careful and follow instructions next time, but overall, the team seemed genuinely happy you were fine. Except, of course, for Spencer, who ever since you got in the jet was staring daggers at you.

Later, the jet finally landed, and you were eager to get home. You quickly went to the office to get a few of your things, Unfortunately, you and Spencer were now all alone in an uncomfortable silence waiting for the elevator.

“That was reckless” Spencer mutters under his breath

“I'm sorry, what?” You turn in your heels to face him, had you heard that right? Is that the first thing he's going to tell you after you just got shot?

“What you did on the case, was reckless and naive. You should've followed our instructions, you can't just do what you feel like doing” he's looking in your eye now, his voice coming out angry but with a hint of… worry?

“I'm sorry ok? I tried to do something, I just did not want to just stay there waiting while he could be doing god knows what inside that house” Your voice comes out more shaky than you wanted it to, the weight of the guilt pressing into your chest

“Still, it was reckless and stupid, you should never just storm into, alone, a place where an unsub might be, you never know what he might do to you, what might be waiting inside.” His gaze is cold, almost as if he's not actually here talking to you, but somewhere inside his head and his memories.

“Trust me, I know that. I regret my decision, but I wasn't doing what I felt like, I tried my best, Reid.” You turn to look directly in his eye. Yes you did something wrong, but you wouldn't let him out of all people talk like that to you “I might be the youngest on the team, the one with less experience but trust me… I'm not dumb, I earned my place here.” Your voice shaky when you said that last sentence, the insecurity you felt showing through your words.

Something in his gaze shifted after that, his expression became softer, almost sympathetic. “Listen, I'm not saying you're not qualified, I'm sorry if it came off like that, just be careful… That could have ended a lot worse, trust me I know”

“ I will” The air between you two less intimidating now but still heavy with tension, you two step in the elevator, the whole way to the garage an awkward silence until you two finally reach the bullpen's garage.  

Even thought you felt like now maybe he didn't absolutely want you gone from the team, you were still curious as to why he is so cold to you

“Sorry, I need to ask… Why do you hate me?” You turn to him, after finally gathering the courage to ask this question

“What do you mean, don't hate you”

“Yes you do, I mean you're not obligated to like me but since I joined, you didn't even meet me yet and just gave this cold look”

His eyebrows furrowed as he processed your words, clearly taken aback by your directness. He sighed, a hint of regret in his eyes, and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "It's not about you personally," he finally admitted, his voice softer than before.

“What is it about, then?”

He takes a deep breath before starting to talk “You're only 3 years older than me when I joined this team, I know what it does you, to your mind. I guess I just saw way too much of me, of who I used to be, in you, and it terrified me to be honest” His cold facade disappeared completely now, in its place a soft and genuine expression.

“So you were, and I'm sorry for the words, an asshole to me because you were worried?” You almost can't wrap your head around it, all this time you felt like one of your biggest references in the BAU hated you, but instead he was caring for you.

“Yes, I see how it comes out as “asshole” behavior, but my brain just went full shutdown when i saw you” His face turns slightly red when he notices what he just said – Freudian slip or just a bad choice of words? He doesn't's know for sure – His hand goes to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck “I mean… for the resemblance, of how I acted when I had just joined, of course”

You give him a small smile, and just like that your side that has been a fan and read all of this man's articles comes back to life “Of course. Thank you for worrying but maybe instead of hating me you could… I don't know, if it's not too much of a bother of course, help me? I value your worries Doc, maybe you could help me not make the same mistakes you did”

He nodded, a hint of relief washing over his features. "I'd be happy to help," he said, a genuine smile finally breaking through. "I might not have all the answers, but I can definitely share what I've learned along the way."

“I'm happy to hear that, thanks, Doc. Reid” You wave at him as you begin walking over to your car.

“Hey, just call me Spencer” He smiles warmly at you

“See you tomorrow Spencer”

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Series summary: When Noah was left alone to take care of his daughter about two years ago, he never thought he would find someone else he would trust enough to include in his little family. But things can change.

Series masterlist

"Okay, recap moment," you began, sitting at a table in the café with Rick, Folio, and Grace, the sun beginning to set outside and filling the room with hues of red and orange.

"Ever since Jason came back to town, he’s wanted to win you back," Rick explained again after taking a slow sip from his coffee, his voice tinged with guilt. "And he asked for my help, because apparently I’m his only friend."

"So, the psycho has been trying to get your attention all this time," Folio interjected, "and when Noah left for a couple of days, he thought it was the perfect opportunity to do something that would drive a wedge between you two."

"So, he had you leave him," you pointed to Rick, "in front of Noah’s house after he got drunk, knowing that the next morning, Noah would find him there and think I'd cheated on him."

Rick lowered his eyes, unable to meet your gaze. "Yeah... that was exactly what he was hoping for. He knew Noah would be hurt, and he knew that would push him away from you."

"Noah didn’t want to listen to what you had to say because he thought what happened with Hannah was about to happen again. And now, he feels awful because he thinks it's his fault—like he can’t keep someone who loves him around," Folio continued.

"And you feel guilty because if you had realized Jason’s intentions sooner, maybe you could have stopped this from happening," Rick added, concluding the chain of events.

"Wow," Grace remarked. "I still have so many questions."

"Yeah, me too," Rick agreed. "Like, why are you even still here? You had nothing to do with any of this."

"Hey! I work here too, okay?" Grace shot back. "I have every right to stay as long as I want."

“So,” you turned to Folio, disregarding the bickering between the punk guy and your friend, or whoever Grace was to you, “what do you think I should do?”

"Go to him," Folio urged. "Talk things through. Please. I can’t keep watching him like this. I don’t think he’s showered in two weeks."

Grace wrinkled her nose.

"I'm sorry," Rick apologized. "If I hadn’t helped Jason, maybe none of this would have happened."

"Well, that’s how things played out," you replied. "And there’s no turning back."

"But things can still be fixed if you both put aside your fears and have a real conversation," Grace encouraged.

Folio leaned back in his chair, his gaze softening. "Exactly. It might not be easy, but if you want to fix things, this is where it starts."

"I’m not sure he wants to talk to me," you said, your voice uncertain as you stared down at the table, trying to sort through your swirling thoughts.

Grace looked at you, her expression a mix of frustration and concern. "Oh, please!" she exclaimed, leaning forward onto the table. "We know he loves you, and you love him. And it’s so obvious you both are suffering now! If you go to him and tell him everything was part of Jason’s plan, and that his weird friend here explained how things really went down, he’ll listen. I promise you!"

Rick shook his head, smirking but with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Hey, weird friend to who, Barbie with black hair?"

Grace just rolled her eyes.

Folio sighed, but his voice grew more serious. "Look, trust me. Go to him, tomorrow. It’s been two weeks, and he’s starting to realize he let you go just because he was too scared. You can’t just sit around waiting for him to make the first move because he won't. He's in a depressive mood right now."

A silence fell for a moment as you thought about their words. Folio's eyes were sincere, and for a brief second, it felt like there was still a chance to fix things. You took a deep breath, the weight of the decision settling over you.

Finally, you nodded. "Okay," you said softly, "I’ll do it."

After Grace and Folio left, you and Rick stood outside the café, the cool evening air pressing against you as the sunset faded into the night. The streets were quieter now, the hum of the city barely reaching you.

Rick shifted uncomfortably, his hands in his pockets as he avoided your gaze. "I… I’m sorry," he said finally, his voice low. "I know you probably hate me right now for helping Jason, for being his friend. I know what I did was wrong. But he was the only friend I ever had, you know? And I just... I always did what he asked, because I didn’t want to lose him. I thought if I kept helping him, I’d prove I was a good friend. But looking at it now, I see I was just blinded by that need to belong. I'm so fucking stupid."

You were silent for a moment, taking in what he said. It didn’t make you angry. Instead, a sense of understanding washed over you. You shook your head gently. "I’m not mad at you, Rick," you said softly. "I don’t think you’re a bad person. You just... you need better friends. Friends who aren’t going to pull you into things like this. Friends who won’t take advantage of your loyalty."

Rick’s shoulders slumped as if a weight had been lifted, but there was still a trace of guilt on his face. "I don’t deserve your forgiveness," he muttered.

"You don’t have to deserve it," you replied with a small smile. "People make mistakes. What matters is what we do after." You paused for a moment, thinking carefully about the next words you wanted to say. "You can come see me, us, at the café anytime. If you ever need to talk, or just... hang out. I'm sure Noah would like you too, you know? You punched Jason, after all."

He looked up at you, his eyes slightly wide, as if your words were a relief he hadn’t expected. "Thanks. Really. I know I messed up, but I’m done following Jason. I’ve made my choice."

You nodded. "I’m glad to hear that."

Rick smiled, though it was a little uncertain at first. "I’ll come by sometime."

As you both turned to leave, you gave Rick one last look. "Thanks again, Rick. Take care."

And with that, you parted ways, but not with the same weight on your shoulders you had carried earlier. Things could get better—for both of you.

Noah sat on the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him, trying his best to smile as he tickled Luna, her giggles filling the air. It was a soft sound, the kind of laughter that once brought him a sense of peace, but now it felt like a distant memory.

He tried to focus on her, on her innocent joy, but the weight of everything pressing on him still felt unbearable. He could hardly summon the energy to keep up with her playful energy.

"Daddy! Knights don’t tickle princesses!” she said, holding up a finger as if to emphasize her point as she laughed.

"Oh really? So why am I doing that now?"

"Because you are a bad knight, daddy!"

Noah let go and finally dropped his hands to his sides, letting the kid breathe.

Luna, her tiny hands gripping his arm as she attempted to climb onto his lap, paused for a moment and looked at him with her big, innocent eyes. She tilted her head to one side, sensing that something was off. "Daddy," she said in her small, soft voice, "will Y/N come today?"

The question hit Noah like a punch to the stomach. He froze for a second, trying to think, his chest tightening as his mind raced for an answer. How could he explain this to her? How could he possibly tell his three-year-old daughter that the woman who had been a constant presence in their lives, the woman he had loved, was gone and might never return?

He forced a smile as he moved some strands of hair from her little chubby face, but it felt hollow. "No, sweetie," he said softly, trying to keep the sadness from his voice. "Y/N won't be coming here for a while."

Luna’s face fell for a moment, and Noah’s heart twisted at the sight. She didn’t understand, not fully. But she could already feel the absence. She blinked and then asked, her voice so innocent and hopeful, "Oh, is she on vacation?"

Noah nodded slowly, trying to hold it together. He swallowed hard, not knowing what else to say. "Yeah," he replied quietly. "She’s on vacation."

Luna seemed to accept that answer, her small face brightening again, and Noah couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. Was he lying to her? He didn’t know. But he couldn’t tell her the truth. Not yet. Not when he was still trying to figure it all out himself.

“Oh,” Luna said, her voice soft and wistful. “I wish I could go with her. I want to see the mountains with Y/N.”

Noah’s heart broke a little more as she spoke, the simple, innocent wish from his daughter ringing in his ears.

He looked down at her, her eyes filled with that pure, untainted hope, and he could feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. He wished things were different, wished he could turn back time and make the mess he had created disappear. But all he could do now was nod, his voice filled with emotion as he replied, “Yeah… me too.”

His gaze fell on the beaded bracelet on his wrist, the bracelet Luna had made with you. She seemed so happy when she gave it to him, saying that you and she had one similar too that Noah couldn't say no. He wondered where you put yours. If it was lying forgotten at the bottom of a trash can or if he was on your wrist too and if you were thinking about him like he was thinking about you looking at it.

The pink was an extreme contrast to his tattoos in a way that made him smile and made his skin burn at the same time.

Luna didn’t seem to sense the weight of his words. Instead, she smiled brightly, her small hands gripping his shirt as she pulled herself closer to him. “Maybe when Y/N comes back, we can all go to the mountains together, Daddy. And see bears.”

Noah’s throat tightened, and he could barely choke out a laugh. "Maybe," he said quietly, his voice breaking just a little. “Maybe we can.”

That late evening, you were at home, the wind outside picking up, howling against the windows.

But then, through the noise, you heard something else—faint, almost drowned out by the gusts of wind. It was a soft whimpering sound. You froze, wondering if you’d imagined it. Another sound followed, louder this time, and it was unmistakable.

You quickly made your way to the door, heart racing. Was someone out there? You opened the door cautiously. The wind whipped around you, but you could make out something small huddling near the porch steps.

A tiny, scruffy ball of fur, sat there looking up at you. You bent down, your breath catching in your throat. A small puppy—probably only a few months old—was staring up at you with big, wide eyes, the color of dark amber. The fur on its body was matted and dirty, but you could tell that, despite its appearance, it wasn’t in horrible condition. It was skinny, too, ribs showing a bit too much through its dirty fur but it didn’t seem too malnourished.

You crouched down, reaching out cautiously, speaking in a soft voice, “Hey there, little one… where did you come from?” The puppy didn’t flinch, but tilted its head at you, studying you curiously, its little tail flicking.

“Do you have a home?” you asked again, more gently this time, hoping it could understand. It just stared at you, unblinking, before it started to shuffle forward, its paws making soft noises on the porch.

“Well, I guess you don’t have a place to go, do you?” you sighed, your heart already melting at the sight of the poor thing. The puppy continued its advance, slowly squeezing between your legs and making its way into the house. You blinked, surprised, but then a soft laugh escaped you.

“Okay, I guess you've already decided where you're going to stay,” you said with a smile, closing the door behind you. You watched the little creature wander inside.

You paused for a moment, your mind spinning with what to do next. You glanced around the small space, eyes landing on the kitchen. Your fridge. Maybe there was something you could feed it.

Opening the fridge, you found some leftover chicken, cooked and ready to go. Without hesitation, you grabbed it, placing it down on a plate for the pup. You watched as the little dog immediately pounced on the food, devouring it in a matter of seconds, the sound of its chewing filling in the silence of the house.

As the dog finished, you crouched down beside it, rubbing its back, and you finally understood the puppy was a male. “What now, little one? You just going to stay here with me?” you asked, your voice soft.

The dog responded with a loud, excited bark, his tail wagging furiously as he jumped up in front of you, as if to say “Yes, please!”

You chuckled lightly. “Guess that’s a yes,” you smiled, patting the puppy’s head.

“Alright then, you can stay with me for now.”

Without thinking twice, you picked the little thing up, holding him carefully in your arms as you carried him toward the bathroom.

You turned on the tap, filling the bathtub with warm water, and carefully set the puppy down.

You took your time, softly scrubbing the dirt out of his brown and black fur.

Just as you were finishing up, the puppy suddenly shook his body, spraying water everywhere. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, the tiny creature soaking your clothes and the bathroom floor, but you didn’t mind. The laugh felt good, like a release, like a bit of normalcy in the chaos that had surrounded you lately.

“You really know how to make a mess, huh?” you said, wiping your face with the back of your hand as the dog looked up at you, his fur dripping wet and his expression utterly adorable.

After a few more moments, you helped the puppy out of the tub and wrapped it in a towel, rubbing it gently to dry it off. He seemed to enjoy the attention, snuggling into the towel as if it had finally found a safe place. You sat on the floor with him for some moments.

Then, you looked down at the tiny creature, now dry and warm, curled up on the towel beside you, his little eyes closing in contentment. “You're a good boy,” you said softly, smiling as the puppy let out a quiet yawn.

That night, he whined until you picked him up and let him sleep in the bed with you, his body pressed close to yours, keeping you almost as warm as Noah's had.

The next morning, before going to the café, you left enough food and water around for the dog before heading out, promising to think of a suitable name for him.

When you were at work, it had started raining, and when you stepped out of the coffee shop during the afternoon, it hadn't stopped yet.

The cold rain immediately soaked through your clothes as you reached your car.

The city streets were slick with water, and the dull hum of distant thunder echoed in the sky, but you barely noticed. Your mind was consumed with the need to reach Noah. You had to. You had already waited too much.

You got in, slammed the door, and turned the key. Nothing. You tried again. And again. The engine sputtered but refused to start, the engine light flashing mockingly at you in the dark interior. Your heart sank. You cursed under your breath and tried once more, but the car just refused to cooperate. It was as if the universe itself had decided that this was not the night for you to see Noah, that fate was conspiring against you, and all the progress you'd just made would come crashing down.

"This is ridiculous," you muttered, staring helplessly at the wheel. Frustration surged inside you, and you felt a lump rise in your throat. The rain was pouring harder now, and everything felt like it was falling apart.

But then, in that moment of frustration, something shifted inside you. You wiped your damp face with the back of your hand and exhaled, steadying yourself. This wasn’t the end, not yet. You weren’t going to give up this easily.

Noah was waiting for you. Even if maybe he didn’t know that. You couldn’t afford to let something as trivial as a car breaking down stop you.

"Fine," you whispered to yourself, the determination in your voice solidifying. "I’ll walk."

Without another thought, you opened the door, slammed it shut, and stepped back out into the pouring rain. The streets blurred with each step you took, your soaked clothes clinging to you as you began your journey toward Noah, your mind set on one thing: You needed to see him.

The rain was hitting the ground in heavy, unrelenting sheets, turning the streets into rivers when you reached Noah's house. The sound of it pounded against your ears, drowning out everything else. You stood there, drenched to the bone, the cold water soaking through your coat and clothes, your hair was wet, dripping down and sending a chill through your neck, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except getting to Noah.

Nothing mattered except Noah.

The cold air pressed against your skin, your heart pounded in your chest, thoughts spinning.

You reached the front door, the familiar house looming before you, but it wasn’t the same. It didn’t feel like home anymore. Not when everything had been shattered, and the quiet that hung between you two was almost suffocating.

Finally, you pressed the doorbell, the sound of it echoing louder in the still night than you had anticipated. The seconds felt like hours, and then, the door creaked open.

There he was, standing in the doorway, but he wasn’t the same Noah. His eyes were tired, bloodshot from lack of sleep, and his face was drawn. The person you had known—the one who laughed with you late at night, the one who made you feel safe—felt distant now, a ghost of the man you had loved.

He looked at you, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence as the rain kept pouring all around you. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t even move. You couldn't read him, it was like he was trying to keep you at arm’s length, afraid that if you got too close, you might shatter him further.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words felt like they were stuck in your throat. What could you even say? How could you explain what had happened, explain how everything had fallen apart because of one man's manipulation? You knew this was your fault, too.

“Noah,” you said, voice shaky as you finally met his gaze. “I... I need to talk to you. Please.”

His expression remained overall hard, a wall that you couldn’t break through, not yet. He looked down for a moment, his jaw tightening, as if he was fighting the urge to turn away from you.

But when he looked at you, his eyes were soft, as if despite everything he couldn't look at you with anger.

"What?" he muttered, his voice strained, as if a single word was causing him physical pain.

You took a deep breath.

"Ever since Jason came back to town, I—I didn’t see it. I didn’t want to see it. I thought that chapter was closed, that he was a thing of the past, that I was done with him. And I was. Because I love you and I'll always love you and only you. But he wasn’t done with me. I should’ve known. And I... I was too fucking stupid to realize he never wanted to let me go. Not really. He wanted to win me back, to tear us apart, and I was blind to it."

He just stared at you, so you kept talking. Seeing him like that was absolutely breaking you.

"He asked Rick for help, a friend of his that understood he was doing something wrong and talked to me. And Rick, he... he just wanted to be a good friend. He didn’t understand. But Jason—he used Rick, manipulated him, got him to leave him drunk in front of your house, knowing that I would let him in because I am too fucking srupid and too fucking nice. He knew that you’d think I cheated on you. Knowing that you’d be hurt, that you'd doubt me, that it would rip us apart. He had everything planned. And I—I let it happen. I didn’t even see it coming. I didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late, until I saw the way you looked at me like I let you down like your ex. And I've never wanted that.

And now... now I’m standing here, soaked to the skin because I always forget to bring an umbrella with me and because I care about you, trying to find the right words, but there’s no easy way to explain this. No way to take back the pain I caused you. No way to undo what Jason did. But I need you to know this... I love you. More than anything. More than I ever thought I could love someone.

And I’m so fucking sorry for the mess I’ve made and for letting Jason ruin everything. I’m so sorry I didn’t see what Jason was doing. I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner that I was losing you, that I was pushing you away when all I’ve ever wanted is to be with you.

I love you more than I ever knew how to say. I love you more than anything. And I need you to know that, to believe that, because it’s the truth. You’re the only thing that matters to me and I miss you. And I miss Luna. And I miss the family we built. The three of us. And if you can find it in your heart to forgive me... I swear, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. But please, Noah, don’t let me lose you. Not like this. Not because of an asshole who thought he had power on someone else's love."

After you finished confessing, Noah looked at you with a mix of confusion and concern for a moment, his brow furrowing as his gaze flickered over your drenched form. "Why are you completely soaked?"

You couldn't help but smile softly, a little amusement tugging at the corner of your lips, despite the moment. "My car wouldn’t start," you replied, trying to sound lighthearted, almost as if it was a silly inconvenience. "So I walked."

Before you could say anything more, Noah’s expression softened even more, and without another word, he stepped forward in the rain. His lips found yours with a sudden intensity, and it was like everything else melted away. You smiled against his mouth, the taste of him so sweet, so right, that it felt like you could stay in this moment forever.

You had longed for the sensation of his lips on yours, the warmth of his tongue dancing with yours, and the comfort of his arms wrapped around you for days.

His hair clung to his forehead as the rain soaked him through, and without thinking, you reached up to brush it aside, your fingers grazing the damp strands as you continued to kiss him, your hearts racing in sync. It was perfect. It was real. The kiss lingered, deepening, as if neither of you wanted it to end, until the air between you both ran out and you both pulled back, gasping for breath.

Noah’s hands were still on your hips, pushing you close to him.

His voice was low and vulnerable as he whispered against your lips, "I’ve dreamed of this moment for fifteen nights. I thought you hated me..I'm sorry I told you to leave. I was scared to lose you and so fucking jealous. I've never wanted you to leave. I love you.

I loved you from the first moment I walked into the café with Luna barely able to speak, when she raised her little hand to say hi. She didn't do it with anyone. But she did it with you. Maybe she also understood at that moment that you were going to be the most important person in both our lives."

You couldn’t help but smile, the warmth flooding back into your chest at the sound of his words. "I’ve walked in the rain for forty minutes for you," you murmured, your voice soft but full of certainty. "I’d say I don’t hate you at all."

He chuckled, the sound of it wrapping around you like a warm blanket. God, you'd missed that sound so bad. "I’d say I don’t hate you at all either," he replied, a grin tugging at his lips, and then he kissed you again, softer this time, as if savoring every second, every drop of rain falling around you both.

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lacy1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme @hurricanesfollowyou @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @missduffsblog

TBAF Tags: @klutzy-kay24 @mrscevans @concreteangel92 @iconic-taurus @niicoleleigh @cheyyyyr @supersquirrel1996 @respectfulrebel @clickmedead @whenyouwannafindlove @kenjipepsi1

[forgetmesunflower]

“Well, Miss Stephanie.”

Stephanie’s head collides with the top of the cupboard she has shoved her head in. She flops back to sit on the kitchen tiles while rubbing her head. “Hey, Alfie.”

He’s already in his night clothes, the occupants of the manor on a mandatory rest night after the previous’ rough Arkham breakout. Alfred was under the impression Stephanie went back home to her mother after today’s dinner. “You were not the person I expected to be rummaging in here this late.”

“I was uh–” She pulls her hand down to rub the back of her neck. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d make something, but all you’ve got is ingredients. There’s nothing ready-made in here.” 

Alfred hums and mentally runs through his quick options. “Did dinner still leave you with an appetite?”

Stephanie rises and brushes herself off. “Oh, well, I don’t know if I’m actually hungry, per se. Maybe this is a bad habit to get into. I’ll just drink some water then go to bed. Sorry for waking you, Alfred.”

“Now hold on a moment.”

She pauses at the entrance of the kitchen and peeks over her shoulder.

Alfred opens a cupboard and pulls out a clipped bag of mixed nuts. He pours a serving or so into a bowl, picking around for more cashews and pistachios. He sets the bowl and a glass of water at the counter just as Stephanie takes a seat at the raised stools.

Stephanie peers into the bowl. “Thanks.”

“You’re very welcome. Make sure to drink the full glass too.” He reclips the bag closed to return it to the cupboard.

“Why nuts?” she asks, inspecting one between two fingers before popping it into her mouth.

“Well, you did ask for ready-made–” Stephanie huffs a laugh. “–and they’re rich in protein, magnesium, and melatonin.”

She looks up at him with furrowed brows. “I thought melatonin was a hormone or whatever. How does a food have it?”

“Melatonin supplements exist, don’t they? Why can’t it be found naturally in our food as well?”

“Huh.” She rests her chin on her hand as she inspects another nut. “I guess that makes sense.”

Stephanie throws a few nuts back at a time while Alfred pulls out two bundt pans and fetches several bags of frozen dinner rolls from the freezer. He smiles to himself as he remembers young Bruce’s face when he found out Alfred doesn’t make the dough used for this recipe from scratch. After spraying the metal, he begins to open each bag and pour them into one of the pans.

Alfred doesn’t startle when she appears behind him to look past his shoulder. 

“What’re doing?”

“Preparing breakfast.”

“This late?”

He hums. “It rises overnight, then it goes into the oven in the morning.” He opens another bag, and Stephanie leans against the counter and fiddles with the plastic of an unopened one. “I believe the common name is Monkey Bread, but I’ve always known it as Land of Nod, which is an idiom for sleeping.”

“That name sounds kind of familiar. So it’s just bread?”

“Not quite. Would you like to help?”

Stephanie’s mouth twists as her brows come down. “I’m pretty awful in the kitchen. My mom won’t let me make anything that has like, more than two steps.”

“I assure you this is quite easy, and I’ll be right here to lead you along.”

“Um.” She looks to the side, then at the bundt pans, then tentatively up at Alfred. “Okay, but if it goes wrong, it’s not my fault because I warned you.”

Alfred chuckles. “Certainly. Let’s fill up the rest of these pans then.”

“You want all of these bags?”

“Yes. We’ll be making two batches.”

She side-eyes him before joining in ripping open each bag for its contents to tumble into the pans.

"Toss those in the trash while I get the ingredients, will you?”

“On it, chef.” She attempts to gather all of the bags into her arms until a few fall to the floor. She huffs then starts stuffing the bags inside one another, resourceful as always, even with the mundane. Like Martha. Alfred smiles into the spice cupboard. 

She returns with a skip in her step, and Alfred deposits his needs on the counter. 

“Most of these things I go by sight rather than exact measurements.”

“Uh oh.”

“Don’t fret. I’ll walk you through it. Open up that pudding mix and sprinkle it on the frozen dough.”

“Pudding? How does that work?”

“It won’t turn into pudding. It’s for glaze and flavouring.”

“Glaz– You know what? I’m not even gonna ask.” She peels open the packaging easily. “How much am I sprinkling, chef?” 

“Go over it lightly. Yes, like that. A little lighter–”

Stephanie rips her hand away, wide-eyed. “Did I put too much?” 

“No, you’re doing just fine. There’s hardly any on there yet, but we want to make sure it goes all the way around.”

“Oh– Okay.” She finishes smoothly, if a little more nervous. The second pan is easier.

“Perfect. I’ll do the cinnamon for this one, and you can do it for the next. How about that?”

She nods, brow still wrinkled. “Sure.”

“We’ll just do two teaspoons, tapping the side lightly as it goes around, like so.”

“What’s the difference between a teaspoon and a tablespoon?” she asks as she takes the measuring spoon from him.

“A tablespoon is bigger.”

“How do you remember which is which?”

“Memorizing, I suppose.” He watches as she taps off the last of the cinnamon. “Perfect. Well done, Miss Stephanie.”

Her cheeks darken in the dim lighting. 

“Brown sugar now. Take this cup and scoop some out.” He pushes the bag of brown sugar over, and she fills the cup a third of the way. “More than that.” She eyes him but dips it back in, coming back out a little fuller. He raises an eyebrow.

“More? Isn’t this just pure sugar?”

“Brown sugar is a bit different from granulated white sugar, but this is indeed meant to be sweet. Fill that cup and sprinkle it around the dough.” He leaves her to the task while moving on to melt the butter. 

“You want this whole thing on just the one pan? Then another for the other?”

“Yes, exactly that.”

She turns around when she hears the buttons of the microwave. “I didn’t know you used that thing. Thought you’d think it was below you.”

He smiles. “No good cooking utility is below me, but I do favour the stove, oven, and good old kettle.”

Stephanie grins back. “Right.”

They pour the butter over the dough and cover the pans with dish towels. “And now they rise until morning.”

Stephanie yawns. “Great. I think those sleep nuts are working.”

“Then I shall see you in the morning when you can observe your hard work.”

She rubs her arms. “I wouldn’t call it hard.”

“I’m sure you’ll be proud of your creation all the same. Now off to bed with you.”

“Got it, got it. Night, Alfie.”

“Rest well, Miss Stephanie."

───

“How’d it turn into that?” She stares into the oven with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“The bread rose and absorbed the ingredients.”

“Huh. Cooking’s kinda like magic.”

“Yes, yes it is.”

With everyone finally seated at the table, Stephanie is more than happy to be the first to dig in. “Dang,” she whispers around her mouthful. She finishes her first bun before Tim takes a sip of his coffee. “I mean, it’s not the delicacy that is the classic waffle, but–” She dips her head and smiles at her plate. “–it’s definitely not too bad.”

Bruce hums, and Tim snorts into his coffee. “Okay, ‘waffle queen.’”

Stephanie tips her head to the side to turn her smile towards Alfred. She mouths, “Thank you.”

Alfred nods and returns to tidying up.

Alfred taught them to cook.

He loves cooking, loves making dinner for a full table, working around different restrictions and preferences, and that's all the more reason to teach each of them how to love it just the same.

Bruce has trouble eating after his parents' death, appetite diminished and joy for new and exciting foods gone. Alfred places a plate on the counter in front of him (Bruce won't eat in the dining room anymore; that was a place for family meals), but all he does is stare.

Alfred tries several new things, anything to peek his ward's interest. Eventually, it becomes simply making sure he gets basic vitamins and minerals. This morning he cuts up fruit in between mixing the crepe batter. Fibre is easiest to get into him in the mornings. Bruce, already nine, comes down to the kitchen and watches him.

"I'll just be a few moments more. Will you get the bowl of custard out of the fridge for me, my boy?"

Bruce complies with a nod. He pulls out the bowl and curiously peeks into the saran wrap covering. Alfred angles away but keeps an eye on him as the boy peels the wrap back and sticks a finger in. Alfred can't imagine scolding him for it when he brings his finger to his mouth and his eyes light up in satisfaction. It's gone quickly, but Alfred has gained his own spark as Bruce sets the bowl beside him on the counter, reaching up on his toes to see the strawberries Alfred slices up.

Alfred holds up one slice as if inspecting it. He pops it into his own mouth. Bruce's eyes go wide before smoothing over. Alfred hums. "I'm not sure if this size is quite right. Will you taste test it for me?" He offers a slice to Bruce.

Bruce scrunches up his nose. "Size doesn't affect taste."

"Oh, but I assure you it does. See for yourself."

Bruce gingerly takes the thick slice of strawberry and slips it between his lips. It sits in his mouth for a while before his jaw moves to chew.

"Well?"

"It tastes like a strawberry."

"Okay, well now try this smaller one." It's thin and flimsy when he passes it over. Bruce eyes him skeptically but slips it in just the same.

Bruce's eyes widen and his lips pucker. "That is different. Why is it different? What'd you do to it?"

Alfred can't help a smile. "Nothing, my boy. That is simply the art of cooking. You want to give it a try?"

His tasks are simple assortment of ingredients and putting the crepes together while Alfred keeps him away from the stove, and Bruce keeps sneaking bits of fruit and dollops of custard, wrinkling his nose at the taste of raw batter.

Nine is a little young to start learning to cook, Alfred thinks, but Bruce eats two and a half stuffed crepes before he realizes he's full. It's the largest breakfast he's eaten in months. Bruce joins Alfred in the kitchen for almost every meal after that.

───

Alfred taught them to cook, and I want to give them each a comfort or otherwise meaningful dish to feature here.

Any suggestions?

I've had thoughts for making one of Dick's being something I grew up loving that Alfred learned to make (with Dick's helpful input to make it closer to home), though my German family's food, I've found, might be more Mennonite-specific. Like wareniki (vareneki) & schmaundt fat or something as simple as kuchen.

I'd love to explore different culture's foods with this, so if you have suggestions, any at all, please share!!! It doesn't have to be culturally specific though. I'd just really love to expand on this idea and started with something simple (and white haha) for Bruce. Though it could always change!

[solivagant242]

silver boy and golden girl

pairing: sirius black x shy!reader

warnings: none, slight swearing?

this is honestly more of a drabble than anything else, it came to my head last night and i couldn't sleep till i wrote it down. i’m sorry it’s so long, but hope you enjoy!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

༊*·˚ everything about sirius is silver

༊*·˚ right down to his bright eyes and that quicksilver smile of his, there one moment and gone the next, right down to the rings he always wears on his pale-skinned hands 

༊*·˚ even his laughter sounds silver- the way it seems to ripple in the air like moonlight

༊*·˚ and then he meets you

༊*·˚ the first time he sees you is at the library at the end of first year (of course, that was the only time he’d set foot in the library at all till then- and that was to help peter set up a prank involving a box of centipedes for some unsuspecting ravenclaws)

༊*·˚  you were sitting at one of the little alcoves in the corner, knees drawn up under your skirt 

༊*·˚ you’d taken off your red tie and let it hang loosely around your neck, a contrast to your usual buttoned-up, neatly-pleated uniform 

༊*·˚  for that matter, your hair was down too- soft waves framed your face, free from the usual knot you pulled it back in when you studied or read 

༊*·˚ the setting sun behind you was casting a rich, golden, beautiful light across your profile that glimmered through your eyes and made them look even brighter 

༊*·˚ sirius swears his heart skips a beat at the sight 

༊*·˚ the box of (disgruntled) centipedes he’s carrying falls, unheeded, to the floor, much to the chagrin of madame pince, who descends upon him in a fury

༊*·˚ he couldn’t care less

༊*·˚ the next few weeks are spent feverishly trying to get closer to you

༊*·˚ he stalks looks for you in the hallways and tries to gauge where you sit in each classroom, just wanting to catch a glimpse of those pretty eyes again 

༊*·˚ when he finally catches up to you in the hallway (why do you have to walk so damn fast? it’s not like potions class is going anywhere), he pulls a bouquet of silver roses out from under his robes with a flourish 

༊*·˚ “for you”

༊*·˚ you stare at him, shocked, a blush spreading across your face 

༊*·˚ sure, you’re both in gryffindor, but you sure as hell don’t know each other

༊*·˚ fuck, you’ve never even talked to him at all- he’s on the other end of the social spectrum from you, an unashamed nerd whose idea of a fun night out is studying in the slytherin common room with hot chocolate to watch the giant squid 

༊*·˚ you’re the golden girl of gryffindor- straight-a’s, a perfect record of praise from professors, and a perfectly structured, organized life in your own little world

༊*·˚ and now sirius black, self-proclaimed nuisance/class clown/troublemaker extraordinaire is grinning at you?

༊*·˚ nope

༊*·˚ no way

༊*·˚ not happening

༊*·˚ you mumble the invisibility charm and are ‘round the corner and gone, trying to ignore sirius’ friends’ laughter 

༊*·˚ that doesn’t shut him down, though

༊*·˚ quite the opposite

༊*·˚ you have no fucking clue how he got your address when you went home for the summer, but suddenly an owl is bringing you a package every week

༊*·˚ first it’s your favorite chocolates, held in a silver paper bag

༊*·˚ then it’s a delicate silver bangle that perfectly fits your wrist

༊*·˚ (the exact color of sirius’ eyes, though you’d never admit how you know that)

༊*·˚ the next day a note comes

༊*·˚ you’re hesitant to open it, half-expecting a stream of silver glitter or something equally cartoonish to explode in your face- you’re all too familiar with the marauders’ pranks, having watched them afar (or maybe just sirius) for a long time

༊*·˚ it’s not, though

༊*·˚ it’s a card to a very nice restaurant, just a few miles from your house, and a handwritten note that says be my date?

༊*·˚ how can you say no to that?

༊*·˚ you tell yourself that it’s just because you’re curious as you do your hair, spend more time than you thought possible figuring out the right way to make it curl and puff

༊*·˚ that it’s just to see what he’s about, as you step into a beautiful, shimmery golden dress that had sat untouched in your closet since your sixteenth birthday

༊*·˚ are you lying to yourself at this point?

༊*·˚ yeah, probably 

༊*·˚ and when sirius shows up at the restaurant at seven p.m. sharp, you’re…kind of impressed 

༊*·˚ he looks good in a dress shirt, for fuck’s sake. the crisp white accentuates his broad shoulders and the raven of his hair, even bringing out the glints of his blue in his stormy-gray-

༊*·˚ the cocky bastard is grinning at you

༊*·˚ “like what you see?”

༊*·˚ you swear you’re about to turn into a puddle in the center of your dress and melt into the floor with embarrassment 

༊*·˚ but contrary to what you’d thought (and snippets of conversation you’ve heard from dorcas and marlene), sirius is a perfect gentleman to you

༊*·˚ pulls out your chair, pays for the meal, holds the door, walks you to your car

༊*·˚ and he’s a good conversationalist, too

༊*·˚ you hadn’t thought that he knew so much about the muggle world and the type of science that you’re into, but he is

༊*·˚ he actually takes the time to listen to you

༊*·˚ and for once, he’s someone who wants to spend time with you for you, not because he wants your help studying or your answers for a homework

༊*·˚ you begin going on more and more dates

༊*·˚ you don’t know why, but what you’re feeling for sirius has slowly grown to engulf you, like ivy covering a wall 

༊*·˚ that doesn’t change the fact that you’re scared. dead straight scared, of letting anyone in, showing any vulnerability whatsoever, any emotion

༊*·˚ (which, according to your preening parents, is the only reason you do so well academically, but you have no intention of telling them otherwise)

༊*·˚ sirius, ever the gentleman, doesn’t push it

༊*·˚ doesn’t push anything

༊*·˚ he leaves it all up to you, and you’re not used to being in control 

༊*·˚ it’s scary and new and exhilarating all at once

༊*·˚ which maybe is what prompts you to ride his flying motorbike with him for the first time in the middle of second year

༊*·˚ the thing terrifies you. like, flat-out terrifies you

༊*·˚ little by little, you get more comfortable on it (definitely not because it means you get to rest your head on his shoulder, the gold jewelry around your neck overshadowed by the silver rings on his big hands, encircling your fingers curled over his chest)

༊*·˚ and the first time you kiss him is when you’re both astride the motorbike, godric knows how far off the ground, with the stars glimmering gold and silver in your eyes

༊*·˚ sirius nearly crashes the damn thing into the lake at the sensation of your soft lips on his

༊*·˚ and after that, you’re official- silver boy and golden girl, a perfect balance

༊*·˚ the perfect pair of gryffindor

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

did you like it? feedback/comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[unknownperson246]

a/n: Hiii! I really enjoyed I need you! Could you write a part 2 of that story and maybe the reader gets in trouble with Duff and he grounds her so she can't see Izzy but then she sneaks out and goes to Izzy's house and they get a little freaky? I don't know, you can take it however you want! No rush at all! 🫶

Hiiii Here is Part 1

Modern Izzy Stradlin: I Need You Part 2

Words: 986

warnings: *smut* *p in v* *daddy kink* *dirty talk*

✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:*

Your dad came barging into your room yelling about Izzy. Your mom came home that night seeing Duff in a really bad mood. She tried to comfort Duff but she did not interfere with the situation. 

“What the hell was that Y/N. I thought I trusted you but I guess not. You slept with Izzy.” Duff said, pissed off.

“Well duh. He was sexy.” You said smirking while putting your shoes on.

“Where are you going?” Duff asked, still annoyed by what you did. 

“I’m going to see Izzy.” You said.

“No, you're not. Do you know why? Because you're grounded” Duff said while he was rummaging through your room to find anything he could take away from you as a punishment. 

He found your iPad and your computer and decided to take those away. 

“You only have your phone. I’m not taking that in case there is an emergency. Oh, and I’ll be checking your messages while you're grounded.” Duff said looking for other stuff that was important to you.

Duff took the keys to your car.

“But I’m 18. Don’t you think that’s a bit too much?” You asked Duff.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit too much that you slept with Izzy?” Duff asked. 

You scoffed in annoyance.

“Excuse me. Did I hear attitude come out of your mouth?” Duff was angry. 

“No,” you said and Duff left your room glaring at you.

You knew you had to do something. You weren’t gonna sit still and be a good little girl for dad. You were going to go and rebel. You were tired of your dad not acknowledging you as a responsible adult. You could do whatever you wanted now but Duff did not want to let his little girl go. You climbed down your window. Last time Izzy visited he put his address on a note and slipped it under your pillow. 

You had found it the next morning when you were setting your bed that was still fresh with his musky cologne. You grabbed your spare car keys that were hidden under your bed. You got in your car being careful of your surroundings making sure Duff wasn’t watching you. You drove to the address that was written in his perfectly sloppy handwriting. You waited in your car for a bit to collect yourself.

His house was small. You knew that he wasn’t really satisfied with the lavish lifestyle. All he cared about was his guitar and how he could do whatever he wanted with his life. You went to knock on his door. After a few moments, he opened it. 

“Y/N?” He was surprised.

“Hi, come in. It must be freezing outside and you don’t have a jacket.” He said pulling you into his warm environment. 

“Your house. It’s nice.” You said smiling.

He pulled you towards his couch. 

“You look cold,” Izzy said.

“Are you here for me to warm you up?” Izzy smirked.

“Well maybe.” You got on his lap. 

“I had an idea I couldn’t share last time because we were in a rush.” You said.

“I want to ride you.” You whispered in his ear.

“Wow you dirty little thing,” Izzy said before starting to unclothe you. 

You could feel the bulge underneath his pants starting to grow. You wanted him so badly and Izzy could see it.

“Where’s my surprise?” Izzy asked you remembering from last time.

“I said next time you visit me I will surprise you. So I guess you're just going to have to sneak into my room and I’ll give it to you honey.” You bit his earlobe after explaining.

“Fuck.” He chuckled.

“Well, at least I tried.” He smiled.

He immediately started to kiss you and you both made out. You took his shirt off that fit so perfectly on his body. You took the back of his neck and made his head move closer to you. Izzy kept complimenting your body.

“You're so perfect.” He panted while he was stuffed inside of your quivering cunt. 

“I can feel how wet you are for me.” Izzy laughed.

You shoved his hard member inside of your pussy and started to ride him. His hands were on your hip and you felt the buzz. You were getting needy and desperate for him so you started to go faster. 

You felt his huge cock grinding against the walls of your wet pussy. You felt his tip hitting your cervix each time you bounced. You were afraid your cervix was going to bruise.  

“You make me go crazy.” You said to Izzy as you forced yourself to bounce up and down on his hard cock. 

You once again started to kiss his neck and his bare chest. 

“I love it when you do all the work and I get to sit here and watch you while you please me,” Izzy said, patting your hair.  

“Almost there, Izzy.” You said before you started to squirt.

“Fuck” you gasped as you squirt all over Izzy’s lap. 

“Did that feel good sweetheart?” He questioned you. 

“Yeah it did Daddy” you whispered in his ear.

“You like calling me that? Do you call me that when I’m not around?” Izzy smirked as he asked you. 

“Certainly” You kissed his lips to stop him from talking anymore.

Your eyes locked with his and you came. You had several orgasms while you had your encounter with Izzy. You both finally were pleased with the amount of activity you both did today and you fell asleep in his arms knowing you were safe from any danger. 

Izzy carried you to your car and drove you home. You woke up in bed wondering if going to Izzy’s place was just a dream. You felt something in your bra. It was another note. You pulled it out and recognized it. 

“Had fun today.” It was written sloppily above his perfect signature. 

[skyward-floored]

I’ve been in a Sky mood lately lol. So for prompts maybe something angsty with him? Like him getting used to life after being trapped on the island for years? Or one of the boys trying to reassure themselves that he’s actually back?

I saw this prompt and went HEHEHE I do enjoy me my angst. Especially Incredibles au Sky angst (sorry Sky bdhdbdbdhd)

I sort of mixed your two prompts together? It’s mostly the first one, but there’s hints of the second. And also a different thing entirely XD Enjoy!

(Also warning for a character getting a flashback. It’s seen from an outside perspective, but here’s your warning just in case.)

————————————————————

Sometimes Warriors still couldn’t believe Sky was back.

After over a year of trying to come to terms with his disappearance, wrestling with hope and denial and grief, going to his funeral for Hylia’s sake— having him suddenly come back was... earth-shattering. In a good way, of course, but sometimes Warriors caught himself falling into the pattern of endless questions on what had happened, and had to remind himself that he knew now.

Sky had been tricked, lured away, fought for survival while being hunted within an inch of his life, and then finally made it home alive. Though... not without scars.

Ones that sometimes caught Warriors off guard.

The afternoon it happened, Warriors had stopped at Sky’s to drop off some things he’d borrowed, and ended up staying and talking much longer than he’d intended. He wasn’t complaining though. After thinking he’d never get moments like this again, he’d spend every waking hour with his brother if he could.

“...So then Aryll told me she made a new friend, and asked me if I wanted to meet her, and of course I said yes. I should’ve known better, because five seconds later she whistles, and this huge vulture lands in front of me,” Sky said with a wave of his hand, and Warriors laughed. “I know! Where did she even meet a vulture?!”

“Probably the same place she met those geese that one time,” Warriors said with a grin, and Sky joined his laughter that time.

“Oh I’m sure. She has plenty of bird connections,” he chuckled, leaning back with his wings stretched out on either side of himself. He picked up his glass of water and drank some of it before he continued. “I’m sure she’ll have quite the message system worked out when she’s older.”

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Warriors smirked. “Heck you won’t even need the mail service if she keeps up like this, just ask her to send letters via pigeon.”

“Hm that’s true... I’d never have to buy stamps again,” Sky said thoughtfully.

“Hey now, don’t forget those stamps help pay my salary,” Warriors grinned. A truck outside beeped as it backed up, and Warriors glanced out the window, before looking back inside. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were trying... Sky?”

Sky had completely frozen in place, his glass of water slipping from his hand.

Warriors quickly shot out a hand as it hit the floor, freezing the puddle before it could spread, then got off his chair and hurried to Sky’s side. The cup hadn’t broken so he left it where it was, and he looked worriedly at his brother.

“Sky? Are you okay?” he asked urgently, and a tremor wracked through Sky, his eyes glazing over. He’d been fine literal seconds ago, what was wrong? “...Sky?”

“We need to hide,” Sky whispered, his voice hoarse.

Warriors blinked. “What?”

Sky swallowed, shaking as he stared into the middle distance. “We need to hide, they’re coming,” he stressed in a croak, his breathing starting to pick up. “Guardians, they’re close.”

“Sky... there are no guardians here,” Warriors said in confusion, and Sky shook his head, ears twitching.

“There’s one right over there,” he gasped, his breath trembling. “We need to hide, it’s going to—”

“Sky, no there isn’t,” Warriors said slowly, sitting down beside his brother. “There’s nothing there.”

“B-but—” Sky stuttered, twisting his head around to look at the wall. A bead of sweat trailed down his brow. “Yes it is. It is, it’s coming, we need to hide now.”

Sky pulled his wings in close to his body, feathers puffing up, and Warriors looked at him in dismay, unsure of what to do. He knew enough to recognize Sky was having some sort of flashback, but he didn’t know how to help him out of it.

The truck outside beeped again, and Sky violently flinched, nearly falling off the couch as his feathers puffed out even more. Warriors looked between him and the window, then carefully stood and walked over to it, closing it and blocking out the sound. Sky didn’t visibly react to the quiet, and Warriors went back over to him, watching as he trembled in place.

“Sky, we’re not on the island,” Warriors began carefully as he sat back down. “You haven’t been there for weeks now. And I wasn’t ever on the island. How can I be here with you if we’re on the island?”

“I-I...” Sky stammered, his voice faltering. Then he suddenly snatched Warriors’ wrists, eyes huge. “Wars they got you too, you shouldn’t have come, it’s going to be like everyone else,” he choked out, still shaking. “We have to hide!”

Sky began tugging at his wrists, but Warriors resisted the movement, staying where he was. “Sky, there’s no danger.”

“Yes there is! I have a base right over there, we can get to it if we hurry, we can’t let him—”

“Sky, we’re not on the island,” Warriors repeated, slipping his wrists out of Sky’s hold and taking his hands instead. His skin felt clammy. “I promise you we’re not. We’re in your house. We’re safe.”

Sky kept shaking, but he didn’t argue the point, and Warriors felt a flicker of encouragement when he didn’t keep tugging on his hands.

“You’re not back there,” Warriors repeated, and Sky squeezed his eyes shut, another bead of sweat trailing down his brow. “You’re in your house, on the couch in your living room. Sun is at work, and Aryll is taking a nap. Nobody is in any danger.”

Sky trembled in his seat, his eyes still closed tight, and Warriors lightly squeezed his hands, waiting for him to come back. His eyes reopened, still looking glazed, but less so than before.

“Come on Link,” Warriors whispered, looking into Sky’s eyes. “You’re safe here, I promise. Nothing is trying to hurt you.”

Sky swallowed, and Warriors stayed beside him, watching as his feathers slowly began to smooth. Warriors repeated the reassurance that they weren’t on the island, and he kept it up as Sky’s frantic breathing started to even out, and his eyes gradually cleared.

It felt like a long time before Sky’s shoulders slumped, his wings falling limp as he took in a shaky breath. He was still trembling, but much more lightly, and Warriors studied his face.

“You back?” Warriors asked carefully, and Sky looked at his lap, shame coloring his face.

“I... I think so. Sorry,” Sky whispered.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Warriors said easily, but Sky kept looking at his lap, ears red.

Warriors looked at him worriedly, then lightly squeezed his hands, pulling back so he could deal with the frozen puddle on the floor. He easily pried it up and shaped it into a small ball, then set it on the table, looking back at Sky again.

“Hey. I mean it,” Warriors said when he saw his expression, lightly touching Sky’s shoulder, light enough that he could pull away if he wanted. Sky didn’t, and so Warriors held it a bit tighter. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s not your fault.”

“I was the one stupid enough to go there,” Sky muttered under his breath, and Warriors frowned.

“Sky, you were tricked. You thought you were doing something good, it’s not your fault,” Warriors repeated, and Sky didn’t meet his eyes. Warriors sighed. “That looked pretty rough. Do you want some water?”

“I’d appreciate that,” Sky said quietly.

Warriors nodded and stood, giving his shoulder a squeeze before he grabbed Sky’s glass and headed to the kitchen to refill it. It only took him a moment, and when he returned, Sky hadn’t moved, still staring at his lap, faintly trembling, wings lightly wrapped around himself.

Warriors passed him the cup, and Sky silently took it, sipping without a word.

“You need anything else?” Warriors asked, and Sky shook his head. Warriors hummed in reply, then paused as he thought of something. It wasn’t Warriors’ go-to, but Sky usually appreciated physical contact much more than him, especially since he’d been back. “...maybe a hug?”

Sky finally looked up, still shaky and pale, and gave a tiny nod.

Warriors gave him a sad smile, then leaned in, wrapping his arms around his brother.

Sky was stiff for a moment, then practically melted into the touch, a wavering sigh coming from him. He pressed his face against Warriors’ shoulder, and Warriors lightly rubbed his back, feeling equally reassured by the touch. He knew Sky had been through a lot, but the blatant show of it had been a bit frightening.

Oh Sky.

“I’m such a disaster,” Sky said in a wobbly voice, and Warriors sighed.

“Anyone would be. Truth be told, I think most of us became disasters while you were gone, so you’re in good company.”

Sky let out a wet snort, and Warriors squeezed him, Sky still shaking just a little.

“Has this happened before?” Warriors asked after a minute, pulling back so he could see Sky’s face, and Sky shrugged.

“Not... to that extent,” he admitted quietly. “There’ve been... things, but not...”

He trailed off weakly, and Warriors nodded. That was about what he’d figured.

“Okay. We’ll figure this out. Just like old times, huh?” Warriors said with a faint smile, and Sky huffed.

“Yeah. Can’t say I miss that side of things,” he mumbled, and Warriors squeezed his arm again.

“I’ll stay until Sun comes back,” he reassured quietly, and Sky nodded, silently resting his head against Warriors’ shoulder again.

Neither of them said much else after that, and Warriors idly played with the piece of ice on the table, Sky watching him quietly as he shaped it into a small bird. Warriors added some ice to it, and worked on shaping it into a slightly bigger one.

Sky stayed silent as he leaned against him, and Warriors tried not to stare, worry clenching in his stomach. Nightmares were common enough between them, though they’d gotten better as the years had gone on. Warriors had practice with those, and panic attacks, and a small list of the other crap they all dealt with after their superhero careers, but this... felt way out of his league.

We’ll figure this out, he promised silently, adding small feathers to the bird he was shaping in his palms. Sky breathed out a weary sigh, and Warriors swallowed.

We will. We’ll figure it out.

[chihuahuawashere]

I watched MLP as a kid and sadly was one of the victims that got scared out of their minds when watching it on YouTube and clicked baited into watching those scary trauma inducing MLP videos.

But i blocked those out of my mind for the longest of time until i want back into it more years later reading all of the infected aus and it kinda me wondering. What if instead of infected MLP aus it was MLB?

Now stay with me, what if HawkMoths akumas infected the akumatized victims into slowing becoming monsters? Like at first okay you get akumatized and that’s okay because ladybug and chat noir will fix you in a day and yes that’s true but after that your mood feels different like you can never /truly/ be happy it’s like there’s a cloud or fog in your mind and you think your just obviously just going through the motions of what just happened.

But then you start to feel a little different, the primal instincts in your gut is telling you that something is going to happen and all your mental alarms are ringing like crazy but at this point it’s been a couple of weeks after your “accident” and nothing bad really happened aside from the normal akumazited victims that’s came after you.

So you feel like you shouldn’t be /too/ worried but after awhile it truly feels like your not in your own skin on top of that your intrusive thoughts become more and more louder. They’re so /loud/ and different from your other thoughts that you think someone else is in your head it feels so out of place that it genuinely scares you.

It’s not just that “oh f**k it let’s shave your head” no it’s so horrid and gruesome that your scared of even leaving your house in fears of hurting someone at that point it might be a month in since the “accident” and again nothing really changed in the world so you really think your going crazy but no.

Because now your body is literally physically changing. -like for example let’s use Nino since (after looking it up) he was the first akumatized victim. After going through the mood swings body aches and paranoia thoughts his skin is starting to change, he’s eyes are getting sucken and with black rings around it, (he thought it was because of the lack of sleep) but he also sees his face is a tab bit blue? But his chest looks red? And he’s hands and feet are turning black he chalks it up to his paranoia and locks himself completely in his room, he has alittle brother and doesn’t want to hurt him with aggressive his thought are getting.

The next time he looks into the mirror he’s arms and legs and stomach are swollen like they’ve been stung by a thousand bees and the different colors of blues yellows reds and blacks all more apparent now his body aches all the time and feels like it’s on fire even breathing feels like there’s fire in his lungs at this point it’s just straight up body horror. His skin is trying to recreate his akumatized body. And at this points It’s hard to even strung thoughts together to even come up with that conclusion on his own now all he feels is rage. And for what? What’s the reason for all this aggression?

He doesn’t know it’s just pure white hate in his mind and thought and at this point he’s to far gone. He can’t go to anyone for help.

(I honestly don’t know how he’ll get find out maybe by his parents worried why there sun hasn’t left his room or his little brother being curious of where his big bro went or many even Adrien checking up on how is friend is doing)

But I know that with all the other akumtized victims designs they’re body horror will go crazy and more and more of Marinette and Adrian’s classmates will going missing after their akumatized moments and the rest of the class plus the school PLUS everyone in Paris will be paranoid and making conspiracy theories on where they went and who’ll be next as tension rises in Paris (which ironically lead to more akumas) while even more pressure lies on Ladybug and chat noirs shoulders and the citizens of Paris are now aggressive towards them wondering what happened to their kids/loved ones and why is this happening.

Either way I’m gonna end it here I wanna hear your thought and ideas and expand further on this becuase I think it’ll be really fun to talk about it might even turn into the apocalypse they also went to china and New York. Sorry if there’s misspelling or bad grammar and I made all of this in a rush but hopefully you all like this idea! I don’t really know what to call this au other than infected MLB au so please interact/talk to me so we can all have fun and expand this AU further !

♥️

[chaotic-orphan]

Whumpuary No.7

Unfair fight // Insomnia // “no one is coming”

This was a long one, hoi boi🫡 but she’s done…

“Hero…” Second in command said softly. Hero didn’t reply. She just kept walking after their team across the rocky terrain to the shelter that Navigator spotted a few kilometres back. “Hero.”

“What?” Hero asked. There was nothing sharp about the question. She didn’t snap. She didn’t sigh or demand an answer. It was empty. A sound that carried no meaning behind it. She was tired. She was beyond tired. She just wanted… she just…

“We’ll get them back.” Second told her. Hero didn’t reply. She just kept going. That’s all she could do. Keep walking. Keep breathing. Keep going until they somehow managed to rescue Vigilante from Supervillain.

Nobody that Supervillain took had ever been seen again, nevermind… nevermind— she buried that thought under a hatch in her mind and padlocked it down. Getting emotional wouldn’t get Vigilante back after all… no… she just put one foot in front of the other. It was easy. It was quiet. It was…

She was…

Leader, Navigator and Medic had dropped their packs and started setting up a camp, rolling out their bedding on the smooth rock. Rogue and Youngest were already gone, to fetch some wood for a fire no doubt when Hero and Second arrived.

Hero disengaged from the group and went to the cliff edge outside the shelter and settled her back against the rock of the cave. She heard the usual routine happening behind her, without her.

Then he appeared like an apparition in front of her. Translucent but full formed, a shadow of Villain with his self-satisfied smirk and gleaming eyes. Hero didn’t say anything as he approached her.

“Hello darling. You’re looking worn, drained.” Hero looked through him, literally, as he crouched down and pressed a phantom hand to Hero’s cheek. She wished she couldn’t feel it. She knew he was able to not let her feel it, but he was a sadistic fucker. “My my, have you been sleeping, pet? Your bags have bags,” he noted, pulling down her eyelid.

Hero batted his hand away, but her hand went straight through his projection and she huffed out a breath and looked away as Villain laughed.

“You know damn well why I’m not sleeping.”

Villain released her and sat in front of her instead. He tilted his handsome head to the side. “Is it Vigilante, hmm? The guilt of knowing you could have saved them but didn’t.”

“Fuck off.”

“Oh shush. You know how much I enjoy our little chats, Hero,” he said, waving her insult away. “Besides,” his eyes sharpened. “We both know what else I could spend my time doing if you don’t feel like talk—“”

Hero lurched forward a hand out that went through Villain’s visage. “No! No! I— I wanna talk.”

Villain grabbed Hero’s hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. His eyes danced with a gleeful satisfaction. “So desperate, Hero. So needy. But don’t worry. I’ll stay with you. We can talk all night long.”

Hero wanted to punch him. She wanted to cry and scream and wrap her hands around his throat because she didn’t know how much longer she could take this. The taunting, the teasing, every night, once the sun set, Villain would appear to her and force her to chat with him through the night so she couldn’t sleep. The first few days it was fine. She could catch an hour before and after Villain appeared, and she was fine. But they were travelling for two weeks now, and Hero had had to start sleeping by day to the annoyance of their teammates.

The worst part was she couldn’t even tell them about Villain, or Villain promised he’d make Vigilante pay and let Hero see all of the torture for herself.

How many times had she debated telling her team? How many times has she wanted to scream about it to somebody, anybody, but Villain somehow sensed that too after the fourth day.

He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back after she challenged him. “Maybe Vigilante’s life isn’t enough of a threat, hmm? You know… Youngest in your team seems quite—”

“No!” Hero screamed, struggling against a ghost.

Villain leaned down, craning Hero’s neck all the way back but she didn’t drop eye contact with him as he hissed: “then behave.”

Dinner came and went. Hero denied any food. She felt too sick to eat. Almost woozy from the insomnia, and when she did eat it was like she was pumped of adrenaline that only led her to crashing later.

“Hero… you should really eat. You’ll turn into skin and bones if you don’t,” Villain chided with a smile.

When it came time to sleep, Hero said she’d take first watch. Leader came out and stood above her. “Hero, no.”

“Oooh,” Villain cooed from behind Hero, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger. “Your boss is so forceful Hero. But tell him you insist.”

Hero shivered as the phantom hand settled on the nape of her neck. “I- I insist,” she said quietly.

Medic came out after Leader.

“Hero, get inside. We need to cover a lot of ground tomorrow and we can’t have you dozing off when the sun comes up again! We’re losing time to save Vigilante.”

“Don’t you think I know that?!” Hero cried, hands flying to her hair and pulling. “I— I want to save Vigilante more than anything.”

“She’s right you know,” Villain purred, standing behind Medic. He started whispering in Medic’s ear, loud enough for Hero to hear. “She wants to save poor Vigilante more than her circadian rhythms demand.”

“Please!” Hero cried. “I— I- I need to stay awake.”

Villain’s violet eyes flashed at Hero over Medic’s shoulder. “That’s right. Good girl. You tell them.”

Hero swallowed hard. Leader frowned and looked over his shoulder to where Hero stared, almost as if in a trance. Medic found his gaze, erudite eyes coloured with concern.

Leader looked back at Hero.

“Alright.” Leader said. Hero relaxed, breathing out a sigh of relief that seemed to be the only thing holding her up. She swayed as the world spun around her and would have fallen if not for Leader catching her halfway to the ground.

“Please,” Hero said with a breath, not entirely sure she didn’t blackout for a second. “Please, trust me,” she pleaded.

Leader nodded and sat her back against the rock. “I trust you, Hero. I know losing Vigilante has been hard on you, but there’s some leftover food and you will eat some of it if you won’t sleep, do you understand?”

“I—” Hero protested. Leader spoke over her.

“Or I’ll have Rogue take watch and ask Medic to force—”

“Okay! Okay!” Hero rushed out, panic seizing her heart. Leader smiled and tucked her hair out of her face.

“Good. I’ll grab you a plate. And you will eat it all, Hero.”

Hero nodded stiffly. “Okay.”

The two disappeared back into the cave. Hero could hear Medic berating Leader as they retreated but she didn’t really care about what they said anyways. Villain walked back in front of her and plopped himself down in front of her. His eyes alight with a dangerous amusement.

“You’re so good at taking orders, Hero.” Villain purred. “So pliant and malleable like this,” he said. He propped his elbow on his knee and his head in his hand. “Oh, if only I thought of taking Vigilante sooner. Maybe the heroes wouldn’t have given us as much trouble when you’re distraught and sleep deprived.”

Hero didn’t answer. A hot tear dripped from her eye onto her cheek. Maybe that was answer enough. She was going mad, she knew. Villain was driving her mad, making her seem crazy, torturing her for his own cruel enjoyment.

“Oh Darling,” Villain cooed as Hero started to cry silently, her shoulders shaking up and down and letting out silent sobs that sounded only like gasps of breath. He moved towards her and pulled Hero into his arms, his legs on the outside of hers as he pushed her head into his shoulder. She didn’t move. “Darling, shush. Crying will waste so much of your energy.”

Hero continued to cry. “Oh you poor sweet angel. There, there. I know it’s hard,” he said, patting Hero’s back. “I know, pet. But you’re just so stubborn, hmm? This can all be over if you like.”

Hero stiffened in Villain’s arms. “W-what?” She asked wetly, mucus clogging her words.

Villain pulled Hero back and smiled down a kind smile at her, but his horrible eyes betrayed him. “Darling, have you had enough?”

Hero nodded. Villain softened. “Words, doll.”

“Y-yes,” Hero sniffed. Then she jumped a little and shook her head. “But— but I don’t! I don’t want you to hurt Vigilante, please!”

Villain crushed her into his chest again. “Oh I know you don’t. I know you’d do anything for them, wouldn’t you?”

Hero nodded against Villain’s chest. “Words,” he said.

“Yes.”

“I know, darling. So how about we make a deal?”

Hero pulled back a little and stared into the monsters violet eyes. “A- a deal?”

It was a bad idea. Even in her state she knew it was a bad idea, but what else could she do?

“Yes,” Villain said, phantom fingers wiping away Hero’s tears. “A deal. A trade. You for Vigilante.”

All warmth drained from Hero’s body. She didn’t recoil or so much as flinch, she just stared at Villain who sat drinking in every minuscule muscle twitch across her face.

“What?”

“I asked Supervillain already. He said he was fine with the trade, and would put you under my care just like Vigilante is. But I wouldn’t torture you, sweet thing. We would chat, and be like this,” he said, as he tucked a piece of Hero’s hair behind her ear. “Together. In person. You won’t have to worry about a thing. I’ll release Vigilante and you won’t have that guilt plaguing your mind either.”

Hero’s mouth went incredibly dry, like she was inhaling glass. “Will— will you l-let me… will—” Hero fretted, “I- I need to sleep.”

“As soon as you’re in my arms, darling, my real arms I’ll let you sleep, hmm? Would you like that?”

Hero nodded. Her cries turned into a sudden sob she couldn’t catch. “Pl-please… please. I- I would. Ple—”

“Shush, shush, shush. Just tell me where you are, and I’ll do the rest.”

This time, Hero recoiled. “N.. no. You can’t— my team is… my team is here and—”

“Okay,” Villain mused. “Then pick a spot you know, where you can slip away and I’ll come pick you up.”

“And let Vigilante go?” Hero asked, hope colouring every word. Villain shook his head. Hero deflated.

“Once I have you we can talk about Vigilante’s release. I don’t want any nasty surprises in case you try to ambush me with your team.”

God, Hero didn’t even think of that… she was drained. Wholly and completely, her body on autopilot and her mind switched off.

“Okay…” Hero murmured. “Okay… I can meet you by the ruins to the old church in the black valley.”

Villain nodded. “I think I know that area. Okay. I’ll be waiting.”

Hero stiffened. “I- I won’t be able to go until they’re asleep.”

Villain chuckled. A warm, hearty sound. “I know, sweet thing. It will just take me some time to get there so I’ll trust you and leave you to find your way.”

Hero sat out of Villain’s embrace, pulling her sleeve over her hand and wiping her cheeks. “O-okay.”

When Hero arrived at the old church a car was waiting for her. A silhouette of a figure she knew too well was waiting, perched against the passenger side door. Hero froze in place.

Oh god.

Oh god.

What was she doing?

This man had… he had tortured her psychologically over the last two weeks, playing dirty, fighting unfairly, depriving her of sleep just so he could pull something as horrid as this… something she would never have agreed to if she was of sound mind.

And… oh god. She hadn’t gotten used to the cold feel of his fingers and hands on her, everytime he touched her it was like a zap of electricity, or an icy shock to her system that made her gasp but seeing Villain in person now…

He looked very much real.

Strong too. Stronger than he appeared when he projected himself to her mind and even then he could overpower her.

“You know,” his velvet voice called over the short distance between them. It sounded smoother in person, like melted chocolate in her ears. Warm and soothing. Not the voice of a villain. “In your state, I could always catch you if you tried to run.”

Hero couldn’t move. Her body wouldn’t let her step closer. A cold hand settled on the small of her back and pushed her forward. “There you go, that’s a good girl. Do you still have your bow?”

Hero swallowed. Nodded. “Words, darling,” he purred. Hero trembled.

“Y-yes.”

She was so close now. She could make out some of the features on his face, his long hooked nose, his deep set eyes and his dark hair that fell a little over his eyes she could feel more than see were focused only on her.

“Good. I will need to take that off you for now, but if you behave I will give it back so you can train. Keep your skills up. Would you like that?”

Hero didn’t answer.

Five steps.

Four steps.

Three steps.

Two.

Her heart screamed at her to run, to flee, pumping adrenaline through her body to get her to escape.

But it was too late. Villain put his hand on her cheek. It was warm. Hero couldn’t suppress the flinch.

“Oh you are just an angel, aren’t you?” He whispered. Hero didn’t answer. His eyes went to the road Hero came from. She had the good sense to go around the church so he wouldn’t know which direction her team was. That wasn’t part of the deal. “And any teammates follow you?”

Hero began to shake her head, but stopped, looked at him. Words. “N-no… it’s just me… no— no one else is coming.”

Villain’s smile cut into his face, exposing his white teeth. “Excellent, Hero.”

He took her quiver and bow from her shoulders and opened the door for her to the passenger seat. Hero climbed in. Villain shut the door and walked to the boot, throwing her weapons into the trunk before he climbed into the driver’s seat and shut the door.

He pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Hero bristled. “I… I won’t be any trouble, I swear,” she pleaded. “Please, I just… I just want to sleep.”

Villain smiled sympathetically at her. “I know, Hero. I just need to make sure you don’t get any ideas of escape while we drive back to base. Surely you understand?”

Hero’s bottom lip trembled. She bit it to stop from crying and nodded. Her eyelids threatened to drown her if she didn’t close her eyes soon. “Good girl. I’ll just cuff one hand, okay?”

Hero nodded again. Once she was secured and he was sure she couldn’t go anywhere, he nodded and started the engine. When they pulled off, out of the ruins and onto the main road he said: “okay, little Hero. You’ve been so good for me. And good behaviour gets rewarded.”

Hero’s eyes widened. “I can sleep now?”

“Yes darling,” Villain said with a smile in his voice. Hero settled back into her seat, resting her head against the soft, leather headrest.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Villain smiled into the darkness. “My pleasure.”

Hero was asleep before she heard the words, for the first time in two weeks, her mind, blissfully, switched off.

[fortytworedvines]

And the sequel, specially for @owlsie-hoot set post 5x07

Tristan sat next to Mrs Hall on the stairs, his hand on her, protectively, as she cried out weeks of fear and hopelessness, cried tears of happiness that her boy was safe. James and Helen were behind him, all of them with a hand on the woman they loved, supporting her.

Only one person was conspicuous by their absence. Tristan turned to find his brother. And there he was standing, holding on to the bannister as though it was the only thing keeping him upright, tears in his eyes, gazing at his housekeeper.

Oh, Tristan thought as he turned back to her. Oh, I understand.

He did nothing with the knowledge for a little while. The household regained its equilibrium. Mrs Hall was no longer a shadowy, sad presence but once again the beating heart of the house. A letter arrived from Edward – he was on his way back to England. He would be convalescing in Yorkshire. Mrs Hall would be able to visit him easily. She cried again, and Tristan hugged her, and thought maybe it was time.

“I’m coming with you,” he announced cheerily, as his brother set off to tackle his list.

“What? Why?” Siegfried looked at him suspiciously.

“Got to keep my hand in, old thing. Getting rusty.”

Siegfried looked no less suspicious, but did not toss him out of the car.

Tristan took the dirtier jobs, wading through mud that, secretly, he’d missed a little when he was in Egypt.

Siegfried grew more suspicious, but Tris just smiled and got on with the job, holding his tongue until the right moment.

The moment came when they stopped for lunch. They’d taken sandwiches out with them – there was less popping back to Skeldale for meals these days, now they had to be so careful of petrol. Tris waited until Siegfried had eaten, and opened the bottle of beer that Mrs Hall had packed as a treat for them.

He cleared his throat.

“Ah – now we come to it,” Siegfried declared. “The reason that you’ve tagged along today. What is it? Money?”

“You wound me,” Tris said indignantly. “No. I wanted to talk about…” he looked around. There didn’t seem to be anything that Siegfried could throw at him aside from the beer bottle, and he wouldn’t want to waste the beer. “I wanted to talk about Mrs H.”

Siegfried’s face went carefully blank. “What about her?”

“About your feelings for her.”

“My-” Siegfried cut off and growled, a proper growl that made Tristan want to laugh.

“You care for her, a lot. I saw it, at Christmas.”

“Of course I do! She’s my housekeeper. My friend.”

The exact repeat of her words, all those months ago. Tristan smiled to himself. “I think she means more to you than that, big brother.” He glanced at Siegfried, whose jaw was working furiously. “Anything you might want to say will go no further than this car,” he promised.

“Might want to say!” Siegfried cried. “What might I want to say?!”

Tristan shrugged. “I don’t know. You tell me.” He waited, hopefully.

Siegfried turned away to glare out of the window. Eventually, he spoke. “I have no right to care for her more than I do,” he said quietly. “I-” he swallowed. Tris barely dared to breathe. “I want only good things for her. I want only her happiness. When Edward – when the ship sank. I felt her pain.” He pressed his hand to his chest and finally turned to face his brother. “She was hurting and I could do nothing, nothing for her. I love her, little brother. I’ve found love again, like you told me to all those years ago. And it’s my housekeeper. The unimpeachable woman who lives under my roof. Who has tolerated my – my -”

“Rages?” Tristan suggested, with a heart full of happiness.

Siegfried glared at him. “Rages, if you must.” He sagged. “I would so like to be the man who could make her happy.”

“You saved the fox, for her,” Tristan reminded him.

Siegfried waved a hand. “A fox. Because she was furious and despairing and so, so sad. Saving the fox was the only, tiny thing I could offer her. Scant comfort.”

“It meant the world to her.”

Siegfried sighed. “She means the world to me.”

There was a silence as they both digested those words.

“I’m going to break a confidence,” Tris said, when he’d recovered.

“Extremely dishonourable of you.”

Tristan ignored him. “I spoke with Mrs H a few months ago. When you were seeing – what was her name – Mrs Grantley.”

“We barely reached seeing,” Siegfried muttered.

“We talked about Gerald, about how she nearly left but then stayed. About the reason she made that decision.”

Tristan watched his brother, wavering between curiosity and hope and irritation that Tris was breaking a confidence.

“And what did she tell you?” Siegfried’s voice barely quivered.

Tristan took a breath. “She stayed because she loves you. And all of us. But mainly you.”

Siegfried looked away. “As a friend, perhaps.”

“She said you have her heart. She said she’d hoped that when she stayed – after Gerald – that things would change between you. But-”

Siegfried hung his head. “What in God’s name was I doing, chasing that Grantley woman?” Then he raised it again. “She – she loves me? As a – a man?”

Tristan shuddered. “God knows why, but she does. I told her she was far to good for you. But she wouldn’t be dissuaded.”

Tristan expected a glare, or a cuff, but instead he watched his brother’s face light up. He thrust the beer bottle into Tris’s hands and started the engine. “Come on, little brother. We have a list to finish. I need to get home!”

--

They went in the back door, as usual. “Mrs Hall!” Siegfried roared as he kicked off his boots. “Mrs Hall!”

As an overture to a pronouncement of love, it was a little odd, Tristan thought as he pulled off his own boots and lined the two pairs up neatly.

He followed his brother, who was charging through the house looking for his housekeeper. The commotion drew James from surgery and Helen down the stairs, looking put out.

“I’d just got Jimmy to sleep! What’s going on?”

“Siegfried’s looking for Mrs H,” Tris explained.

“Well, he won’t find her here. She’s gone over to the church to do the flower arranging.”

Siegfried emerged from the living room in time to hear this. “The church!” He cried. “I’ll be back later!”

They watched him run to the door, pull on his shoes and hasten off.

“What on earth?” Helen asked.

Tris chuckled. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

And they did find out, an hour or so later. In the living room, where Siegfried and Mrs Hall – Audrey he said – were smiling, sheepishly, happily, holding each other’s hands as though they never wanted to let them go.

Tristan poured them all a whisky. “To Siegfried and Audrey,” he said, raising his glass.

James and Helen echoed him, and the happy couple turned to each other with a smile and a kiss.

“Oh, no. Oh, I don’t want to see that,” Tristan said with a grimace.

“Tough,” his brother said. Then he turned to the woman in his arms. “I love you, Audrey.”

She smiled up at him. “And I love you.”

I'd love no. 1 for the drabble prompts

Have a good day (despite having to work) 😊

Urgh, work. Thanks for the prompt!

Drabble list - send me a number!

1. “I know you're hurt."

Set sometime in 5.5 or before 5.6

“I’m going to visit Miss Grantley,” Siegfried announced over breakfast. “I’m staying to lunch, no need to prepare anything for me, Mrs Hall.”

Mrs Hall nodded. “Will you be home for dinner?”

“Probably,” Siegfried said cheerfully.

Tristan watched the exchange while he munched on his toast. Siegfried was bouncy – always chirpy when there was a new lady love on the scene. Mrs Hall though – Tristan had spotted the shuttered, blank look that had flickered over her face when Siegfried said where he was going. He noted the way her lips were pressed together, just a fraction. The careful steadiness of her voice when she asked if he’d be home for dinner.

Siegfried departed, whistling.

Mrs Hall cleared the table around Tristan, shooting him an amused glance as he continued to eat as the plates disappeared.

A little while later, washed and dressed and ready for the day, Tristan looked for their housekeeper. The breakfast conversation was playing on his mind and he was tallying it with other things he’d seen and been told of over the past year. He was almost certain he’d come to the right conclusion.

She wasn’t in the house. Eventually, he found her in the yard, beating a carpet ferociously.

Her eyes darted towards him but she didn’t say anything, just continued hitting the carpet with a strength that made him wonder.

Finally, he spoke. “I know you’re hurt.”

“Hurt?” her voice was breathy. “Why should I be hurt?”

“Because of my brother, and Miss Grantley.”

She lowered the carpet beater and turned to face him, expressionless. “What your brother does is really no business of mine, Tris.”

“You care for him,” Tris said.

“Of course. I’m his housekeeper. His friend.”

“I think you care for him in more than those ways.”

Now the carpet beater fell to the floor. “What do you want me to say, Tris?” she demanded.

“The truth?” he pushed.

“That I love him? That I gave up the chance of a life, a family of my own, with a good man, because I love your brother and could never love Gerald in the way that he deserves? That seeing him go after Miss Grantley is tearing me apart? Is that what you want me to say?”

The torrent of words left her panting and Tris could see tears in her eyes. He hated himself for putting them there. What had possessed him? A desire to know that he was right?

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

His apology seemed to bring her back to herself and she stared at him, horrified. “Tris – you mustn’t – you mustn’t say anything. To anybody.” She pressed her hands to her face. “It’s…” She trailed off.

Tris fell back to the old standby. “I’ll put the kettle on, shall I?”

He made them both a cup of tea and, seated at their kitchen table, her hands around her cup, Mrs Hall seemed more herself.

“I’m sorry for putting that all on you,” she said.

“I’m sorry for asking.”

“It’s just – you’re right.” She ran a hand over her hair. “It’s – hard. I am hurting. After Gerald…” She sighed.

“What happened there?” Tris asked curiously. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to say. I heard a few things from the others.”

“I nearly left,” Mrs Hall mused. “I handed in my notice. I hurt your brother terribly and doing that hurt me too.”

“Why didn’t you?”

She sipped her tea. “Because – what I put him through, your brother, I mean, I hated doing it. I love him,” she said simply. “I love all of you. He has half my heart and you all, Skeldale, Darrowby, you have the other half.”

“Charming,” Tris muttered.

She laughed then, the first brightness he’d seen in her eyes all day. “You are an awful boy,” she said fondly. “All of you, together, and Gerald on the other side. He’s a good man, a kind man.” She sighed again. “I could have been happy with him. But he loved me, and I – I love Siegfried.”

The way his brother’s given name fell from her lips made Tristan’s hurt turn over. “I stayed because I wanted to, because giving Gerald the tiny portion of my heart I have spare would have hurt him more in the end. I stayed because I love Siegfried and being in his life in any way at all is better than nothing.”

Tristan gazed at her, wondering how much of herself she hid from all of them.

“I’m not unhappy,” she added sharply. “I love my life here, I love you all. Seeing little Jimmy grow up is a precious gift.”

“But?” he sensed it coming.

“I thought… maybe things would change. Between Siegfried and me, when I stayed.”

Tris could feel every ounce of longing from her. With a lump in his throat, he stretched his hand over the table and held it firmly. “I know it’s no consolation, Mrs H,” he said, “but he’s a mad bastard and you’re far too good for him.”

She smiled at him through watery eyes. “As I said, you’re an awful boy, Tris. And thank you. For this.” She gripped his hand. “It was good to talk about it.”

[aforgottenthing-in-space]

Ok so. Miles Edgeworth is trans. Gregory was definitely a trans affirming father so when Miles told him he was like “sure son. What name do you want to go by?”

And so all Manfred von Karma knew was that Gregory Edgeworth had a son. When he gains custody of Miles, he just. Does not realize that the kid he’s now in charge of is a trans boy. (Maybe Miles already had a name change. Idk. Somehow legal name wise, von Karma just. Does Not realize.)

So Miles grows up being raised as a boy and von Karma just. Doesn’t realize. Until puberty begins.

And he notices something, that Miles isn’t experiencing puberty the way he would have expected and he’s like hmmm. I am not sure what is happening.

And then like preteen Miles, incredibly nervous, comes to him and he’s like, “excuse me, Mr. von Karma, sir, but would I be able to start puberty blockers please?”

And von Karma’s just like “WHAT!”

He’s so caught off guard and so used to thinking of Miles as “Gregory Edgeworth’s pathetic son” that he just… kinda lets Miles medically transition bc he’s so caught off guard by the realization.

And for his entire life, Miles is like. Unable to wrap his head around von Karma being surprisingly trans accepting???