#but the last thing i want to happen is have anyone resent me because of mooching behavior

[kansasjustgotgayer]

The awful looming threat of bills that i have no idea how much theyll be and i have no idea when I’ll know or what the hard deadline will be for those bills. And the horrifying knowledge that no matter how small they might be it’ll still be too much for me to pay.

Hey when is it an okay time to start posting my venmo/paypal?

[noosayog]

002 get him back!

✧ wc: 4k

✧ warnings/content: miya osamu x fem!reader, sfw, fake dating au, angst to fluff,

✧ GUTS masterlist, regular masterlist

divider from @/cafekitsune

It all started when Miya Atsumu said that you would never be able to find anyone who could put up with you. And you would have taken that with a grain of salt, if Miya Atsumu wasn't your ex who also happened to be a thorough asshole.

“Well you dated me didn’t you?!” 

“And we broke up, duh.” he says flippantly. 

You clam up at that. You know he’s just saying things. He doesn’t mean it and he’s a complete moron. But it’s been almost a year since the break-up and not a single man has even offered to buy you a drink. Are you going to have to resort to making a Hinge profile? 

–

“I don’t know why ya let him get to ya. He’s just a moron,” Osamu says. 

“You have to say that, he’s your brother,” you grumble. 

“True. But he is an idiot.” 

You plop your face heavily into the elbow resting on the counter and blow raspberries in one big exhale. 

“Don’t get yer spit all over where my customers eat.” 

You grunt, turning over to watch Osamu work behind the counter. 

“Do you think I’m unlovable?” you ask.

“Huh?” 

“There must be a reason no one’s asked me out on a date in the past 8 months, right?” 

Osamu sighs, dropping off a plate of food in front of you. “I’m not gonna answer that.” Then he turns with his back facing you to fiddle with something on the other side of the kitchen. 

“Why not?” 

He exhales through his nose, quiet, but you hear it. 

He doesn’t get the chance to answer because the door swings open to reveal Osamu’s twin. You jolt up, fixing your posture, self-conscious about letting Atsumu think his words are getting to you. 

And rightfully so because Atsumu acts like a shark that smells blood. His lips curl up into what he thinks is a smirk, but resembles much more of a snarl. 

“What’s up with ya,” he asks oh-so-innocently. 

You have no good response and feel your face heating up in embarrassment when Osamu swoops in. 

“Are ya gonna sit down or just block my door? ‘Cause I got people that actually pay to eat here.” 

Atsumu starts yelling something at Osamu but simmers down into the seat next to you and mumbles something to himself, no doubt some choice words for his brother. It gives you momentary reprieve from Atsumu’s provocation which is the last thing you need right now with your self-esteem in the dumps. 

The break is temporary though, because like a true creature with short-term memory and a propensity for being a prick, Atsumu circles back to the topic when he’s done eating. 

“So, found a guy to take you out?” 

“What makes you think I’d answer that question,” you bite back. Weak, but it’s all you have. 

“Hah,” he scoffs. “I knew it. Ya can’t find anyone.” 

You feel the irritation boiling like a witch’s cauldron inside of you, brewing a mix of resentment, mortification, and the tiniest streak of competitiveness. Atsumu not shutting up for the rest of the night is the final ingredient that makes your red hot concoction boil over. It goes a bit like this: 

“Tell me if ya want me to set ya up with someone from the team. Might be the only chance ya get at this rate,” he teases. 

“No thanks,” you hiss. “I’ll have you know that I’m dating Osamu, widely known as the better Miya.” You point smugly at Osamu whose back is currently to you both. 

“What!” Atsumu yells. “Osamu? And you?” 

With Osamu’s back to you, you can’t see his face, but all your fingers and toes are crossed that he’ll play along so that you don’t burn up in a gas of complete humiliation. 

When Osamu turns around, his eyes go to you first. They search yours for something – what, you don’t know. He apparently finds it because he blinks away and tells his brother to mind his own business, neither denying nor validating your claim. 

It might as well be confirmation though, because Atsumu squawks in indignation, sputtering his disbelief. Osamu continues to bicker with his brother, keeping him occupied enough to not realize that he was slowly being backed out of the restaurant. 

When Osamu slams the door on Atsumu and twists the lock in a dramaticized show of finality, Atsumu finally gives up, yelling a muffled “I’ll be back.” through the windows. You could laugh at the duo if Osamu didn’t turn around and fix you with a look, similar to that of a responsible older brother scolding a child. 

“Now yer turn. What was that about?”

“Osamu! You heard the way he was talking to me. I just can’t stand it!” 

“Have ya thought this through? How’s this supposed to end, huh? We break up and Atsumu goes back to making fun of ya?”

You open your mouth to beg, because it’s always worked with Osamu. He always gives in. But he’s not done, apparently. 

“‘Least ya could’ve done is ask me out, not use me to get through yer petty grudge with ‘Tsumu.” 

That shuts you up. When you look at Osamu, he’s not looking at you. His eyes are downcast, distracting himself by wiping up the counter. It’s so brief that you convince yourself that you imagined the hurt in his voice. 

“‘Samu…” 

“Forget it. I’ll do it, but ya better have it thought out because I’m not helping ya anymore than this.” 

It should be a win and any other time, you would wrap him up in a bear hug and shower him with thanks, but the defeated way Osamu concedes makes you solemnly finish your meal. It feels unfitting to say thank you. 

–

Your first stint as Osamu’s girlfriend comes in the form of a friend’s dinner party. Since the night you forced Osamu to be your boyfriend, you have been back at Onigiri Miya to hang out, but have painfully tiptoed around the topic. The thought has occurred to you that you and Osamu should agree upon a backstory, but you haven’t had the courage to breach the topic after the way Osamu reacted. 

He had just nodded when you asked him to attend this dinner party with you. And with that, he had dutifully picked you up at your apartment, perfectly on time. You had expected a stone-faced Osamu all night, but he had surprised you with a sweet smile, one that you’re used to being on the receiving end of. But it somehow feels different tonight. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s supposed to be smiling at you as your lover tonight. It was easy, the way he had held out his arm for you, no awkwardness in sight. 

At dinner, Osamu makes no move to let go of your hand, going as far as to intertwine your fingers under the table. When any one asks how the two of you began dating, he squeezes to tell you he’ll handle this. You’re grateful and you feel undeservingly spoiled as you watch him. He looks around the room, drifts his gaze back to you where his lips flicker upwards for the tiniest second, then looks back at the crowd to flash a mysterious, close-lipped smile. You can barely hear the dinner table go wild with jeers and Atsumu squawking as you gawk at Osamu’s act.

And it goes on. 

As you eat, he keeps your fingers clasped between his, laid on his lap. Atsumu gives you two the stink-eye, questioning why Osamu was eating with his left hand. You’re pretty sure your eyes are bulging out of your head at this point, because Osamu flushes. Osamu is blushing as he reluctantly lets go of your hand, making a show out of placing your hand back on your own lap and mumbling a heavily-accented apology at no one in particular. 

–

When dinner finally ends, the party migrates to the living room. Osamu doesn’t need to ask, perfectly picking your favorite after-dinner drink of choice as he chooses a beer for himself. He has once again claimed your hand in his. His grip is tight and when you try to slip your hand out to get some space, he holds tighter. 

You lean up to whisper in his ear, “Osamu, my hands are sweaty.” 

He leans down to hear you better, but stands back up when he registers your comment. He ignores you, only squeezing twice, as if telling you to behave for him. Your head spins; you’ve never dated like this before. 

Being with Atsumu was like living in a comically unrealistic sit-com, like you were constantly finding yourself in situations and having conversations that belong in a Tom and Jerry episode. He argued with you about everything, had an ego, and a temper. A particularly memorable moment was when he was still courting you, trying to convince you to date him by saying, “I’m six foot two.” 

“Dude, nice try,” you had said. 

But somehow, right now, with Osamu standing by your side and towering over you, you think that if this younger twin used that line on you right now, you’d fold in half for him. As if you wouldn’t with all the sweet nothings he’s lavished on you in this one night. 

He only lets you get away when you embarrassingly whisper to him that you need a bathroom break. 

“I’ll walk with ya.” 

“No!” you exclaim. You lower your voice when he stares at you. “It’s okay, ‘Samu. I’ll be right back, okay?” 

He backs off and you finally get away from his orbit. 

Finally alone, you barely pull yourself together. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, slapping your cheeks lightly to pry the strange daze from your eyes. You can’t get carried away here. Osamu is doing you a favor, one he isn’t fond of. You can’t get used to Osamu treating you like this. It’s borrowed time. 

You splash water onto your face, waiting until the chill seeps into your cheeks that have been painfully hot since Osamu picked you up tonight. 

As you exit the bathroom, Atsumu is there waiting for you in the hallway. 

“I’m onto ya,” he starts. 

You scoff, immediately putting your facade back on. It’s easy with Atsumu. “Oh please, Atsumu. You’re just jealous.” 

It doesn't phase Atsumu the way you hope. “Such a weak comeback. Sounds like something you’d say to disguise the fact that yer playin’ my brother.” Your brother is the one playing me.

“Whatever, Atsumu,” you say, walking away, taking Osamu’s advice to not let Atsumu get to you. 

“I bet ya forced my brother to pretend to be yer boyfriend. I know my brother and I know you. Just admit it.” He smirks. “It’s okay that no one wants to date ya. Nothin’ to be ashamed of.” 

The fact that even Atsumu, even all of his stupidity, sees right through you makes you feel hot. You’re grateful that you’ve already turned away from him because you could not take much more damage tonight. Nothing would end you in a worse way than Atsumu seeing that he could make you cry.  

Or maybe it’s the fact that Atsumu doesn’t, for one second, believe that someone like his brother could fall for someone like you. Maybe no one does. Maybe everyone here just thinks that you’re making this up and they’re playing along to help you save face. 

It takes everything in you to keep your steps and breathing even as you take the walk back to Osamu to compose yourself. 

It’s useless apparently because Osamu seems right through you. He immediately offers to take you to the balcony, explaining to everyone that you need some fresh air to cut through the alcohol you’ve had. 

His silent understanding makes it worse because it makes it clear that you’re an open book. The act you put on is completely pointless because no one believes you anyway. 

Osamu guides you to the balcony and shuts the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone. 

He joins you at the railing, draping his jacket over you. You know he knows that you want to avoid looking into his eyes, just as much as he knows you want to avoid having this conversation altogether. He sighs. 

“Why do ya let him get to you like that?” 

You look back at him, eyes widening at the tone he rarely takes with you. His eyes are fixed forward, arms still dutifully wrapped around you, ever the dedicated boyfriend. But as his gaze flickers to you momentarily, you catch the weight of his question in his eyes. 

“Who?” you mumble. 

But Osamu’s not in the mood. He stays silent, letting the question hang in the air. 

“I don’t know… I just…” 

“Are ya still in love with my brother?” 

“No,” you answer honestly. 

Osamu raises his brows. 

“No, but I’ve known him for so long now.” You feel the need to explain. “He just gets under my skin. You of all people should understand – he’s your brother! You guys fight all day long.” 

“He’s my brother. We shared a womb. We were born to fight.” Osamu sighs. “You, though... Why can’t ya just let it go?” 

“I don’t know! I just…” you trail off. 

He continues to stare at you, not even knowing the effect he has on you. His earnest gaze pulls the truth out from under your skin. 

“I wanna get him back,” you admit. 

Osamu’s eyes go dark at that statement. His expression shutters.

“Not like that!” you quickly amend. “Not like I want to get back with him, I mean like, his face just pisses me off!” 

“Huh?” 

“I just wanna punch him in the face but I don’t think anything would give me more satisfaction than proving him wrong you know. And honestly, Osamu, you-” 

“Ya think that I’m the perfect person to piss him off for ya. ‘Cause I’m his brother and there’s no one else who would get under his skin more than if I replaced him.” 

You hear the disappointment heavy in his intonation. 

“Osamu…” 

“Am I wrong?” 

He’s not wrong, but you feel an urge to tell him how he made you tingle at dinner. It was in the way he catered to your whims, covered for you, and held your hand in secret. It was in the way he, as your not-boyfriend, made you feel loved and desired much more so than any other boyfriend you’ve ever had before. 

But when you look at his side profile, face now turned away from you and hidden by the shadows of the night, it doesn’t feel right to say any of that. Even in your mind, it sounds like an excuse. Because the bottom line is that he’s right. Your original intentions had been to use Osamu. And the fact that you might have developed a slight crush on him in the process doesn’t make you feel any less shitty and certainly doesn’t make Osamu feel any less used. 

His question goes unanswered. 

– 

The rest of the week goes by uneventfully. Actually, it goes by too uneventfully because Osamu doesn’t call or text once. Not that you’ve made an effort, but after how that last conversation with Osamu ended, you can’t find the courage to face Osamu. 

It doesn’t make you miss him any less. 

You can’t recall if you used to miss Osamu like this, think about him and wish he’d reach out even if it’s only been a couple of days since you’ve last met. You only know that right now, you wish he’d make the first move because you can’t muster up the nerve to see him, even if it’s all you wanted. It also makes you realize that Osamu has been spoiling you long before that night and long before he agreed to be your fake boyfriend. The reason you never had to miss him is because he is always the one who makes the effort to call, text, bring you lunch, pick you up from work, drive you around. 

The realization only made you feel worse about yourself.

And after days of mulling over realization after realization, each making you guiltier and guiltier, you made your decision. 

That’s how you end up running to Osamu’s apartment, late on a Thursday evening. Without pausing to compose yourself, afraid you’ll lose your momentum, you knock. 

The door swings open to reveal a very tired-looking, very handsome Osamu. He has his cap off, but his hair is unruly, as if his fingers have just recently run through it. His eyes are slightly bloodshot and his t-shirt is wrinkled. The urge to rub your thumb over his eyelids and smooth your other hand over this shirt is a sudden one you shove down because Osamu’s opening his mouth. 

“Hey, what’cha doing here so late?” 

There’s a momentary disappointment that strikes your gut. He asks you so normally, as if he isn’t plagued with thoughts of avoiding you. As if the couple of days that have gone by without any interaction between the two of you isn’t even a thought that occupies headspace.

“Uh,” you stutter. 

“Actually,” he sighs and glances behind him. “Now’s not a good time. Can ya-” 

“I don’t care about Atsumu,” you cut him off. It sounds like he’s preparing a rejection. Or he just doesn’t want to talk. Neither of which are favorable outcomes, so you barrel through to say what you need to say. 

“I don’t care about what he thinks. Not anymore and definitely not that night. I was actually thinking about you the entire time and Atsumu, well, he’s just-”

“Just wait a minute, okay-” 

“He just gets under my nerves because of the shit he says and I know he’s just saying stuff to rile me up and I’m a hothead, okay? He gets me because we’re like the same person sometimes, but I’m not doing this to get back at him anymore. It’s actually your fault because-”

“I knew it!” a voice yells from behind Osamu. 

You crane your neck to see around Osamu and curse Osamu’s big frame for taking up the entire doorway and blocking your view of the apartment because there is the older twin, grinning widely and walking up to where you’re both standing.

You instantly feel the panic rise in your system. 

“Atsumu,” Osamu begins in a warning tone. 

Ignoring his brother, Atsumu continues on. “I knew it. I knew the two of ya couldn’t be dating just like that.” 

Your nervous system goes into overdrive. Even you know how this looks. 

You barged into Osamu’s place randomly at night and picked the time when Atsumu coincidentally is here as well.

Your wide eyes meet Osamu, willing him to believe that you didn’t come to make a scene for Atsumu’s viewing. You didn’t come to confess that you might have a crush on him with this exact timing so that Atsumu would fall for the act. 

When Osamu refuses to meet your eyes, it brings your attention back to Atsumu, who continues to gloat about his victory. 

Your face burns in mortification as you take slow steps away from the twins, making room for your getaway. As Atsumu gets closer and Osamu continues to avoid your gaze, your courage wanes and the last bit of pride you’re holding onto propels you to turn away instead of retorting as you always do. 

“Aww, really let my words get to ya, didn’t ya? I knew all along-” 

Before you can start running, Osamu grabs your arm and pulls you into the apartment, the other arm shoving Atsumu out. 

“Hey, ‘Samu!” 

“Shut the fuck up, ‘Tsumu. Now that my girlfriend’s here to spend the night, get out.” Osamu shuts the door in his face. 

Atsumu’s protests fall on deaf ears, the sound of Osamu referring to you as his girlfriend echoing in your mind. He had taken your side, chosen to take the course of action that would embarrass you to least despite not having confirmed what your intentions were. The thought fills you with hope. 

He pulls you further into the apartment, sitting you on the barstool. After situating you on the chair, he makes to step out of your personal space, but you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. Your eyes start to sting in frustration that Osamu could somehow believe that this was all just another incident you had orchestrated to get back at his brother. This has all gotten so hopelessly messy. 

“Osamu,” you sniffle into his neck. “I didn’t come over here and say all that because I knew Atsumu was listening. I just-” missed you. 

He rubs soothing circles into your back, gently enough to make you want to cry more because you don’t deserve this but want it so badly. 

“You just…?” he prompts. 

The words won’t come out and your tears soak into his shirt. You want to tell him so badly that you’re not crying to garner his sympathy; you’re crying because you’re so angry with yourself. 

Osamu patiently strokes your back, letting you cry before quietly telling you, “Oh, baby. How long do ya think we’ve known each other? I know yer not the type to set up this whole complicated scenario just to show up my stupid brother. I believe ya.” 

His other arm is now holding your head to his neck, fingers running lightly across your scalp. “So can ya finish what you were about to say for me?” 

His words and his actions do what they always do to you. They fill you with so much hope that there’s no room to mistaken his intentions. They fill you with the courage to tell him. 

“Missed you,” you whisper. 

Finally, both of his arms wrap around your back to push you tight into his chest. He squeezes, gentle enough to keep you safe but firm enough to tell you he wants you there. It pulls the confession out of you. 

“And I like you so much, Osamu.” 

He chuckles lightly into your ear. You can feel the vibrations echo in his chest. When you squeeze back, he trails his arms down to your legs to guide them around his waist. He carries you with ease to the couch and sits you down to cry in his lap. 

You don’t know how long the two of you sit like that for, but when you finally calm down, you keep your arms wrapped around him and quietly ask, “why did you do all this for someone like me?” 

He stops stroking your hair. 

“What, ya don’t like it?” 

You pull away to protest, already too comfortable with him spoiling you again, only to find the corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk. 

He’s teasing, you realize.

You smack his face weakly and wind your arms back around him. 

You snuggle back into his neck but he’s the one who pulls you back this time. 

“Hey, seriously though,” he says. “Is this okay?” 

You nod shyly. 

“I need to hear it, sweetheart.” 

“I want it.” 

“Alright. C’mere then.” 

You oblige. 

“Can I tell ya a secret?” he murmurs into your neck. 

You nod. 

“There isn’t a man out there who’d do all that for someone he doesn’t love, ya know that?” 

It makes you flustered, but much of what Osamu does does that to you. His tenderness makes you want to try harder to meet him in the middle. 

“Can I do something?” you ask, taking a leap. Your face is incredibly hot and your heart is beating embarrassingly loudly against his. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” 

It’s easy when he responds, “You can do anything ya want to me.” 

You intend for it to be an innocent peck, your form of an apology. But he holds the back of your neck, the other arm wrapped almost all the way around your torso and doesn’t let go until you’re panting against his open mouth. 

He’s nonchalant when he shrugs. 

“You can do anything ya want but I’ll be doing the same from now on.”

[loveinhawkins]

When Lucas Sinclair starts to apologise for missing The Cult of Vecna, Eddie initially thinks that he’s hearing things.

Well, actually, the first thing he thinks is something along the lines of ‘what the fuck are you talking about?’

It takes him almost a solid thirty seconds to even vaguely remember his campaign; the last day of school before Spring Break feels dreamlike, as if it happened to someone else, as if he just watched everything through a fogged-up window.

“Jesus, Sinclair. I’ve got an ongoing list of folks who owe me an apology since, like, sixth grade, and trust me, your name’s not on there. Can pretty confidently say it never will, okay?”

Eddie sees Steve tilt his head ever so slightly from where he’s walking just ahead of them, like he’s listening in. Spots his faint nod of approval.

Eddie can’t decide if he resents it or finds it endearing—kind of gets the ridiculous feeling that Steve’s vetting him on behalf of the kids.

“Okay,” Lucas says, and he’s smiling, but there’s a sort of sombreness to it, too. “Still, I should’ve—”

“Hey, hindsight’s twenty-twenty,” Eddie says, firmly cutting off whatever self-critical bullshit he was about to hear. He knocks his shoulder against Lucas’s, adds a dry, “Like, I would’ve been a dick about it no matter what.”

Lucas laughs, but it’s muted. Then he takes a deep breath, and Eddie suddenly realises that he must’ve been using the apology to get himself started, to work himself up to what he really wanted to say.

“I’m… I’m sorry about… about Jason and… I thought I’d thrown them all off the trail, but—”

“Oh, don’t—don’t worry about it, man,” Eddie says faintly.

There’s a flash of Jason in his mind’s eye, the savage twist of his lip as he ran into the lake; he thinks of Lucas lying to his face, the danger of him being found out, and feels sick.

“Seriously, you could’ve told them… y’know. Wouldn’t have held it against you.”

Eddie doesn’t mention that him getting caught still feels inevitable, like he’s just waiting for the walls to close in.

But right now, at least, he can breathe a little easier. The shire might be burning, but there’s people leading him through it. He’s not alone.

Lucas looks appalled. “What? No, I couldn’t—I couldn’t do that to you.”

It’s said with such conviction that Eddie has to fight through a sudden tightness in his throat—doesn’t really know what to do in the face of such undeserved loyalty.

He settles on saying, “So, how was the game?” which is embarrassingly inadequate, but a genuine question nevertheless; the past few… Jesus, however long it’s been, he’s been in permanent need of a distraction.

Steve slows his walking pace—to anyone else it might’ve seemed subtle, but Eddie’s used to noticing such things. He somehow gets the feeling that Steve is no longer scrutinising him, not exactly; his posture’s relaxed and open, his forehead free of frown lines.

It’s more like he’s simply curious about Eddie’s behaviour. The way his eyes drift over, then down to the forest floor, then back again silently seems to say what are you thinking?

Or maybe Eddie’s projecting because he asks the very same question whenever a muscle jumps in Steve’s jaw.

“Oh, um…” Lucas says hesitantly. “I was on the bench for most of it, so—”

“Quit being modest.” The quiet whir of a tape being rewound; Max Mayfield comes up to Lucas’s side. “He made the winning shot,” she tells Eddie pointedly. “It was a buzzer-beater.”

“Oh, holy shit. Well done, dude.”

From the way Lucas is staring at Max with wide eyes, it’s obvious that he’s barely registered what Eddie’s said.

“How do you know that?” he asks. “You… you weren’t at the game.”

“I, uh.” Max looks down for a moment, fiddling with the headphones around her neck. “I listened to it on the radio.”

Lucas smiles so brightly. There’s an earnestness to him; Eddie spotted it a mile away, ever since that first day back at school, when all the new freshmen were anxiously lining up to get lunch.

Max softens—her arms are still folded, but she drifts a little closer to Lucas as they walk, all studied casualness.

(Oh, Eddie’s been there before: forced to run track in middle school Phys Ed, and the only saving grace was ‘just so happening’ to run at the same pace as any boy who’d smile at him.)

Eddie catches Steve’s eye, and this time Steve gives him a very deliberate expression, nodding fondly at Max and Lucas.

Look at them, he’s saying with his eyes, as if he and Eddie are on the same team, as if Eddie at all deserves to be let in on whatever shared history Steve has with these kids.

Eddie kicks at a stray twig. You’re not going to get a lump in your throat about this, damn it, don’t be stupid.

“S’gonna be historic, Sinclair,” he says. “Last time the Tigers won a championship was, uh, lemme think… twenty-two years ago.”

Lucas stops in his tracks.

“I know that,” he says, eyes shrewd, “but why do you know?”

Eddie raises his hands with a grin, it wasn’t me, officer. “What, I can’t repeat a few years without retaining a little school knowledge?”

“Oh,” Lucas says, and it’s like Eddie can see him mentally replaying every cafeteria speech. He grins back. “So you’re a hypocrite.”

“Maybe,” Eddie says. He glances further afield, where Dustin is animatedly explaining something to Robin and Nancy. “I know you’re not gonna give me shit for it, though.”

“Huh, guess you don’t really know me,” Lucas says, and Max snorts.

Eddie smirks. “And it’s, like, doubly historic since the last person to score a buzzer-beater was—”

He cuts himself off, because Steve abruptly turns to him, like they’re in alliance, and draws a hand sharply across his neck.

But Lucas is already hooked. “What? Who was it?”

Eddie gives Steve a helpless shrug. Sorry, man.

“I’m looking right at him,” he says.

Lucas rounds on Steve. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because,” Steve says, flustered, “that was your thing, Lucas, I didn’t wanna be all…”

He trails off with a vague hand gesture, and Eddie thinks he somehow gets what he means—smiles at the thoughtfulness of it.

“That makes, like, no sense,” Lucas says vehemently. His eyes practically have stars in them. “Damn it, we shoulda got a photo.”

Steve laughs in surprise. “All right, noted.”

“I mean, Wheeler works for the school paper, right?” Eddie says. “They’ve probably got old issues. Hey, Sinclair, you could have, y’know, side-by-side photos. Yours and then…” He waves a hand at Steve. “Ancient history.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Ancient, sure.”

“Oh, Lucas,” Max says, batting her eyes excessively, “I’d frame a picture of you. Pray to it every night.”

Lucas blushes. “Shut up,” he says, elbowing her gently; Eddie thinks that it’s the first time he’s heard Max Mayfield laugh.

Steve’s watching over them again, and his eyes go pensive when Lucas mumbles something like, “I wouldn’t mind a frame.”

The expression Steve has is something Eddie’s only seen once before, and it was on Wayne’s face. Eddie had privately dubbed it the ‘found something for your birthday’ look when he’d noticed it: him and Wayne on a road trip, Eddie not so secretly mooning over the secondhand acoustic guitar in the shop window.

“Your picture should be bigger, Sinclair,” Steve says, sounding both teasing and sincere. “My shot didn’t win a Championship Game.” In an undertone, he adds, “As Brenda so helpfully reminded me.”

Oh, Eddie’s not letting that go.

“Do mine ears deceive me? Did you take a date to a high school basketball game?” Eddie cackles. “You sure know how to woo ‘em, Harrington.”

“Hey,” Steve says defensively, “she could only make that day. Told her I had non-negotiable plans: it was either the game or it was a bust.”

Huh, Eddie thinks, that’s actually… really sweet.

Lucas looks torn between being embarrassed or touched. “You didn’t need to do that, Steve.”

“Sure I did. C’mon, you thought I was gonna go to every match and then miss the Championship?” Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “Where was Erica, anyway?”

… Ah.

“Mea culpa,” Eddie says. “She was, uh, at Hellfire.”

Lucas scoffs. “It’s fine,” he says. “Last time she was at a game, she kept shouting that she loved my tactics.” He looks out into the middle distance. “I was on the bench the whole time.”

Steve chuckles. “Yeah, I missed her being there.” He’s sporting a smile that’s somehow the perfect balance of fond and mischievous; it, quite frankly, has no business looking as attractive as it does. “We had, um, alternative commentary for every game. That kid should have a radio show.” He comes closer, adds in another aside, “Would’ve made the date more bearable if she was there.”

Eddie stifles a laugh, has a moment of respectful silence for Brenda.

Max and Lucas cut in front, keep walking until they’re almost out of earshot; Eddie hears Lucas faintly say something that sounds like, “Was I totally tubular?”, soon drowned out by Max’s laughter.

There’s a short silence.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Steve says suddenly.

Eddie blinks at him, quickly turns his genuine confusion into a bit. “What for, Harrington? My devastating wit? Devilish good looks?”

Steve shakes his head. He smiles for a moment, in on the joke, but then he looks over at Lucas and Max again, and… there.

A muscle jumps in his jaw.

“It’s just… they’ve got a lot to carry, y’know? So…” He shrugs. “Thanks.”

It’s said so quietly, so without fanfare.

Eddie’s hit with the realisation between one footstep and the next: that he’s earned Steve Harrington’s trust.

It feels… weighty.

But Eddie doesn’t mind it; he doesn’t think it’s going to crush his ribs. If anything it feels like they’re sharing a load.

“Don’t gotta thank me for that, Harrington.”

Steve smiles, pushing back his hair; Eddie’s brought back to the moment he did the very same on the basketball court, just as the ball sunk through the net, and Eddie decided fuck it, wholeheartedly embracing his hypocrisy as he jumped up and down with the band kids.

I cheered so goddamn loud for you, Eddie thinks.

He doesn’t say it.

But he keeps walking next to Steve. Feels a little young, a little bit like he’s running track—checking his pace just so he could see a boy smile at him.

[mellosdrawings]

i love the n2 squad 🙇🏻‍♀️ please spare any angst crumbs if you have some

"I love the n2 squad, please make them suffer <3" Sorry that made me cackle xD Same tho

Angst 1:

Jamil is obviously very self conscious about his position compared to Leona and Vil. No matter what he stays stuck in his own mind about being a servant while they are (basically) royalty, being only vice Housewarden while they are Housewardens, being in second year while they are in third year, etc. He's seen with his own two eyes what Vil and Leona are capable of too.

He's not self-deprecating so much as he is frustrated. He wants to be worthy of them, he knows he can hold his own beside them. But he's still very self conscious and he hates it.

It comes in little things, but one of the scenario I've thought about is "kneeling" (no, not that kind, perverts /jk). Vil, while being the most perfect goddess ever, isn't actual royalty, and Jamil has knelt for him a few times while dancing and caring for his feet after wearing new heels for too long. With Leona though? Nope. He completely blocks. Just the thought makes him resent himself and Leona. But also Leona despises how obviously Jamil treats him and Vil differently.

(How do they resolve that? Well first they talk it out despite both being wound up. Vil acts as mediator.

And then Leona shocks everybody by kneeling to Jamil. He tries to even things out even though he can't change their situation. Yet. Because in truth he's such a sap that his very first thoughts about marrying his boyfriends happen here. He can even things out.)

(“Do you want a massage ?”

Leona and Vil’s attention crash on him with a weight that sends Jamil off balance. “What ?” he asks.

“You wish to massage my feet ?”

And Jamil realizes the implications of what he just said. There are massages and there is kneeling at one’s feet to attend to them. And Jamil has sworn to himself that he would never kneel again, that he would find a way to get back on his feet to stand as high and proud as Kalim, that no matter what he would never fake submission again.

It’s not fake here. Submission ? Maybe. Worship ? Definitely. But it’s not fake. Jamil would gladly go down on his knees for Vil, any and every time without a second thought, without shame. Because Vil wouldn't ask that of him. Vil doesn't need to belittle anyone to be able to stand over them, Vil would never belittle Jamil like that.

So Jamil goes down on his knees and lays a hand on Vil’s calf. “It’s alright,” he reassures them, and for once he means it. “Here.”

Vil only hesitates a couple more seconds before he gives one foot to Jamil.

While his hands work the blood flow inside Vil’s feet and calves, he takes a side look at the heels. They are brand new, Jamil sees, not even a single sign of wear on the soles. They have cut into Vil’s heels a bit so Jamil avoids the area and mentally notes to check into the bathroom for a first aid kit.

Vil sighs, melts into his seat, and Jamil smiles to himself.

And then Leona huffs. And it doesn't sound like a good thing.

Even Vil redresses in his seat to send an inquisitive glance at him. Leona just shakes a lazy hand toward them and turns on the bed for a nap. “Ignore him,” Vil says to Jamil. “He’s being petty.”

“Why, do you want a massage too ?”

Leona snarks a sardonic laugh. “As if you’d drop on your knees for me.”

And…

Jamil wouldn't. His hands halt on Vil’s feet. Jamil doesn't think he could kneel for Leona like he does for Vil, at least not without feeling resentful. The last thing Jamil wants is to find any reason to resent Leona. But things as they are, Leona’s status reminds him too much of the Asim.

He could kneel for Vil without feeling ashamed of himself. That man was no man, but a deity descended to earth in the form of the most gracious and beautiful being they could find. He has hordes of people willing to stand in lines for a second of his time, helpers all around him adjusting his clothes and makeup and hair. He worked hard to end where he is.

Leona is a prince. Born into royalty, possessing servants, and any time Jamil thinks too hard about them he’s unnerved.

Of course he loves Leona. Of course he’d do almost anything for him. But Jamil has been conditioned to serve and Leona is used to be served and Jamil just can’t.

He can’t.)

(Drabble I've had in my drafts for a while.)

Angst 2:

Another LeoJami but it's just too easy to imagine them at odds.

The first few months are... difficult, to say the least. Because while Jamil is very good at forethought, he's also used to have a very open and talkative ward. Leona though seems to be unable to express himself properly, barely saying a word, talking in riddles, etc.

Of course Jamil explodes at some point. "Can't you just be clear for once?! Do I have to play mind games whenever I talk with you?!"

Oh, but it's not just between those two. As I've once said, communication is a pretty difficult thing for them all. Vil isn't faring any better. He does keep things to himself far too much until he reaches breaking point, keeps his hardships from the other two until they have to physically restrain him into bed so he can take a break and talk to them.

(“Why are you kissing me ?”

Jamil thinks Leona has fallen asleep once more until the man finally moves, just enough to show his face to Jamil without actually releasing him.

He looks positively unimpressed.

“You are very slow on the uptake, Viper. Not the first time I guess.”

Jamil feels like punching him. Is that a quip about how long it took him to understand Leona's intentions back in Tartarus ?

“Contrary to popular belief, I cannot read people's minds,” Jamil says with gritted teeth. He's just good at guessing what Kalim wants from him since they have done it for so long, and people started thinking that's just a thing he does with everybody.)

(Short excerpt from my LeoJami fic)

Angst 3:

Also, for a few weeks after they start dating, Jamil is... very confused about Leona and Vil's flirting. When he talks like that to other, it's certainly not because he likes them, so it just sounds like they are fighting to him. It makes him a bit anxious for a while before he eases into the relationship and gets used to their love language and banters.

Plus, in my own headcanon Leona and Vil have been something for some time now, so Jamil also has the fun ordeal of carving his place into the relationship. Try to be with them and not with them. Leona and Vil have to learn to change their habits to make some place for Jamil, while Jamil has to assert himself. It... becomes angsty really fast until they are forced to tackle this issue.

(Jamil has never felt more awkward.

He’s in the back with Vil, Leona acting as their personal chauffeur, holding a manicured hand in his like it is the most natural thing in the world. And he feels awkward.

Vil and Leona have been bickering (flirting) ever since they got in the car and Jamil just doesn't know what he’s supposed to do. They have a snark in their flirting that Jamil could never reciprocate. He’s been bitchy with Leona a few times but that hadn't been flirting at all then. Leona just got on his nerves and Jamil had to exteriorize his annoyance somehow, it’s been in the form of arrogant remarks and biting threats that never once deterred Leona.

And he won’t even try with Vil. There’s no way he’s baring his fangs at him, even for a flirt or a joke.

So here he is, listening to a flirting Vil and Leona must have honed for years, and he feels like a complete stranger. He might as well not be here, he’s not even sure Vil and Leona would realize if he vaporized into dust.

It's not the first time he feels like that in only a week. Vil and Leona are assertive, Jamil is not. Vil and Leona have history. Jamil is brand new. Vil and Leona have their habits. And Jamil… well, his habits are to stay quiet to the side until the big shots ask something from him.

Jamil isn't complaining. They have been nothing but fantastic all week with him, Jamil must have reached the gates of heaven and been allowed in to enjoy such wonders. He wouldn't trade that for anything.

But… At times it feels like it's only Vil and Leona, and Jamil doesn't know how to dance around that. He's not sure if he should carve his way into their walls until he is completely nestled and they couldn't possibly remove him, or whether he should let them be just Vil-and-Leona, even when Jamil is around.)

(Drabble I've had in my drafts for a while)

Angst 4:

No, actually I'll keep this one for later 😏 Just know it involves a STYX rewrite with @aria-faye and it is veeeeery angsty (and soft. And angsty. And soft. And very angsty)

(Sneak brainstorm arts from the project fufufu)

[slytherinsmuse]

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ Frayed | Theodore Nott ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Fem! Reader

Warnings: smoking, not proofread, characters are 18+, toxicity, violence

Summary: Anst/Fluff | Theo is trapped in a toxic relationship until a breaking point ignites a bond long overdue.

Word count: 6974

author's note: I wrote this after a dream I had the other night. My dreams have been so wild lately.

Sitting at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, you tried to focus on your breakfast, though your eyes kept drifting to the scene unfolding across from you. Theodore was there, looking as though he’d rather be anywhere else, with his girlfriend firmly planted on his lap, practically wrapped around him. She was all over him, laughing too loud and tossing her hair as if her every move needed an audience.

You felt the familiar pang of irritation as she cut into yet another conversation Theo had been trying to have with Blaise. She leaned in, whispering something into his ear while casting a territorial glance at the others as if daring anyone to interrupt. Theo’s posture was painfully awkward, his shoulders tensed, his gaze dropping to his plate. He gave a few non-committal nods, visibly uncomfortable but too withdrawn to say anything about it. That spark of easygoing confidence you’d always known him for was nowhere to be seen.

Your stomach twisted. This was the same Theo who used to laugh with you at the silliest things, who’d always save a seat beside you at breakfast and swap notes with you during potions. Now, it was like he’d become a stranger. He barely spoke to you anymore, all because his girlfriend had made it clear she didn’t want you, or any other girl, around him.

Across the table, Pansy caught your eye, a look of pure annoyance mirrored on her face. She rolled her eyes, tilting her head toward Theo in silent solidarity. You returned a tight smile, but your grip on your fork tightened. You hated watching this happen—watching Theo become a ghost of himself, isolated even while surrounded by friends.

Just then, he looked up, his gaze meeting yours. A flicker of something softened his features for a brief moment—a hint of the Theo you knew was still there, just beneath the surface. But before either of you could acknowledge it, his girlfriend’s hand was on his jaw, pulling his attention back to her, and the moment was gone.

Blaise’s expression turned sour as he glared at Theo’s girlfriend, his jaw clenching in visible frustration. She had interrupted their conversation just as he’d been getting to the important part, and from the look on his face, he was done holding back his irritation.

He leaned over to Draco, muttering low enough for only him to hear. "How many times has she done this now? Theo might as well be in Azkaban with the way she’s got him trapped."

Draco gave a dry, humourless chuckle, casting a sidelong glance at Theo, who was looking down at his lap, his girlfriend chattering away like nothing was amiss. "It’s getting ridiculous." Draco replied in a whisper. "She won’t let him breathe. Remember last week’s boys’ night? He couldn’t even stay an hour before she was dragging him off."

Blaise nodded, his lips pressed into a tight line. "She’s poison,. he muttered. "And Theo just… lets her. Doesn’t even fight it."

They exchanged a look filled with shared frustration, helpless to watch their friend slowly shrinking under the weight of a relationship that seemed to drain the life out of him. Their annoyance was only half-hidden, and you could see the resentment simmering in both of them, like the beginning of a storm.

Mattheo leaned in, his tone dripping with annoyance as he joined Blaise and Draco’s quiet complaints. "You know what gets me? She just has to be there every single time. Boys’ nights, Quidditch practices—even when we’re just hanging out talking about girls. She practically makes Theo sit in silence while she listens in, like we’re some kind of circus act performing just for her."

Blaise snorted, a bitter edge in his laugh. "It’s maddening. We can’t even relax around him anymore without her hanging on his every move, demanding all his attention like it’s some kind of test."

Draco gave a small, wry nod. "And Merlin forbid we talk about anything she doesn’t approve of. It’s like she’s scared we’re going to lead Theo astray if she’s not there to monitor every conversation."

Mattheo rolled his eyes, casting a glance at Theo, who was currently enduring his girlfriend’s over-the-top attention, looking exhausted and defeated. "She’s sucked all the life out of him." Mattheo muttered, shaking his head. "He doesn’t joke around with us anymore, doesn’t even talk about anything unless she’s ‘approved’ the conversation first."

You could hear the exasperation in Mattheo’s voice, echoing everything you felt yourself. They were right; it was like Theo was a shell of his former self, bound to her by nothing more than her relentless possessiveness. The boys’ irritation was boiling over, their whispers growing just loud enough that you feared she might hear. But they didn’t seem to care anymore.

You did, though, and shot them a pleading look to try and keep the peace. Tensions were already stretched thin, and if something snapped now, you worried it would be impossible to fix. You only hoped Theo could see through it all before everything went too far.

As you glanced over at Theo, the change in him was painfully clear. He looked smaller, somehow. The easy smile he used to flash during breakfast was gone, replaced with a weary, distracted look. He’d gone from being the witty, lively one in your group to barely speaking, keeping his eyes cast down, his shoulders perpetually slumped. It was like watching a light slowly dim.

You took a steadying breath, trying to keep your own frustration from showing. It had become your role, somehow, to hold things together—to keep the peace. If Theo noticed the tension brewing among his friends, he said nothing, perhaps too worn down to add another battle to his day. But with every passing moment, it felt like something had to give.

Yet here you all were, trapped in the stalemate of your seventh year, a tense silence settling over the table as his girlfriend continued to laugh, completely oblivious to the waves of irritation rolling off everyone around her.

Pansy moved seats, sliding onto the bench beside you, her expression a mix of frustration and worry as she leaned in, her voice just a whisper. "Caught him smoking again." she murmured, glancing sideways to make sure Theo’s girlfriend wasn’t listening. "Poor guy’s practically hiding in the shadows just to get a moment to himself."

You sighed, feeling the weight of her words settle over you. It had become all too familiar—Theo sneaking off more frequently, finding solitary corners of the castle to light a cigarette in peace. He’d always been a social smoker, only indulging on rare occasions or during particularly stressful times. But lately, you’d noticed the lingering scent of smoke around him more often, his fingers sometimes stained with ash from hasty, hidden smokes.

"He’s getting worse, isn’t he?" you murmured back, glancing at Theo. He looked pale and worn, a shadow of the friend you’d known since first year. And the worst part? The very person causing his stress was also the one berating him for it.

Pansy nodded, her gaze softening as she watched Theo from across the table. "It’s like a vicious cycle. She’s the reason he’s turning to it, yet she’s the one who’ll tear him apart if she catches him again."

Your heart ached for him, watching the way he seemed to fade a little more every day. He’d once been the friend you could laugh with about anything, the one who always had a clever quip ready or some sarcastic remark that would have everyone cracking up. Now he barely laughed, barely even smiled, constantly stuck in a web of someone else’s making.

As everyone started getting up to head to class, Draco leaned over toward Theo, his voice casual but with a note of genuine invitation. "Oi, Theo, you up for hanging out before the party?"

Theo’s face lit up, a glimpse of his old self emerging as he looked up and started to nod. "Yeah, I—"

But before he could finish, his girlfriend’s hand was already on his arm, her eyes narrowing as she glared at Draco. “Actually, we have plans. So, you can move along, Draco.” she cut in, her tone laced with barely hidden disdain.

The room seemed to hold its breath, Draco’s jaw tightening as he held her gaze. He was clearly trying to keep his temper in check, but his patience was hanging by a thread. With an exasperated sigh, he shot Theo a look that spoke volumes—both an apology and a warning—before reluctantly turning back and leaving the Grand Hall with the group.

Theo slumped back, his expression defeated, all the excitement drained out of him in an instant. He didn’t even bother to argue. You could see the exhaustion etched into his face as he sank lower in his chair, as though he’d expected this outcome all along.

As you walked to D.A.D.A class, you caught Draco’s eye, and he gave a subtle shake of his head, his own frustration mirroring your own. There was a tension in the air that was impossible to ignore, and it was only a matter of time before something would break.

~~~

The usual Friday night Slytherin party was in full swing, the common room lit with a warm, flickering glow as laughter and conversation filled the air. You were all seated in your usual spots on the couches, drinks in hand, enjoying the rare moment of camaraderie that Fridays always promised.

For a while, things felt normal again—comfortable, even. But then, of course, Theo’s girlfriend wedged herself into the group, shifting the entire energy of the evening. The lively conversation dulled as she took over, barely concealing her disdain as she joined in. You could feel the collective irritation settle in, an unspoken understanding among friends that her presence was, as always, unwelcome.

It wasn’t as if the group had a problem with partners joining them; quite the opposite. Each of them had dated at some point, and their significant others were always welcomed with open arms. There was a quiet understanding that relationships brought new energy into their tight-knit circle, and everyone usually made an effort to include them. Some of the best nights had been spent with the laughter of new faces blending seamlessly with their own, adding stories and jokes to the mix without disrupting the balance.

But this girl was different.

She was the first one who seemed determined to force herself in, to overshadow conversations and steal away Theo whenever it suited her. There was no laughter, no blending of energy—just her cutting remarks and possessive glances, her presence casting a shadow over their usual ease. No one could relax when she was around, knowing that any moment of fun or camaraderie could be snuffed out by her biting comments.

It was as if she thrived on control, slipping her influence over Theo like a chain, pulling him away piece by piece from the friends he’d known for years. The group had tried, at first, to welcome her in, to treat her like they would anyone else. But it became painfully clear over time that she wasn’t interested in being part of their lives; she was only interested in controlling Theo’s.

As you looked around at your friends, each of them casting uneasy glances her way, it was obvious that everyone felt it. The tension that lingered whenever she was near, the way the entire room seemed to lose its warmth when she entered. She wasn’t just an outsider. She was the first partner to truly ruin things for them.

Mattheo, who had been rudely interrupted tonight, had less patience than the rest of you. He was midway through a particularly animated story about his latest near-miss with Professor Snape when she interrupted, rolling her eyes and sighing loudly. Mattheo glared at her, barely holding back his annoyance. "Do you mind? Some of us actually want to hear my story."

She scoffed, crossing her arms and leaning back with an air of superiority. "Oh, please. Nobody cares about your stupid stories, Riddle."

A tense silence settled over the group, but Pansy wasted no time in stepping in, her tone sharp. "Actually, everyone but you cares. Maybe if you didn’t make it your mission to ruin every conversation, you’d know that."

Theo shifted uncomfortably, glancing at his girlfriend as if he wanted to step in but was too tired to argue. Meanwhile, you could see the smirk forming on Mattheo’s face, his gaze locked onto her with barely contained satisfaction.

"Yeah." Mattheo added, raising his drink in mock salute. "Cheers to that, Pans. At least some of us know how to have a good time."

His girlfriend flushed, anger flashing in her eyes, but she stayed silent, perhaps finally realizing that the rest of the group had no intention of backing down. It was a rare victory, but it didn’t feel as sweet as it should have—not when Theo was sitting there, staring down at his drink, looking like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Draco let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back on the couch, grumbling just loud enough for everyone to hear, "Well, that’s one way to ruin a perfectly good night."

The comment was sharper than usual, carrying the unmistakable weight of weeks—months, even—of suppressed irritation. He didn’t bother to look at Theo’s girlfriend, who was already glaring daggers at him, her face reddening as her patience finally snapped.

Turning on Theo, she crossed her arms, her voice icy and accusing. "Are you really just going to sit there and let them disrespect me like this? Unbelievable." She looked around the room as if daring someone to disagree, but no one moved or spoke. It was clear where everyone’s loyalties lay, and that only seemed to inflame her further.

Theo’s shoulders slumped, his expression somewhere between exhaustion and quiet resignation. He opened his mouth, as if to offer a half-hearted defence, but no words came. The effort it would take to argue—yet again—was too much for him tonight.

With a huff, she whipped around, storming away from the couches, her heels clicking loudly against the stone floor as she disappeared through the crowds in the common room.Her exit was followed by a heavy silence as everyone’s gaze shifted to Theo.

He let out a long, weary sigh, the sound carrying the weight of everything he hadn’t been able to say. The group was quiet, each of you trying to process what had just happened, but it was obvious that no one wanted to break the silence. 

Theo ran a hand over his face, looking down at his drink, and muttered, "I… I’m sorry, everyone."

Blaise cleared his throat, attempting a small smile to break the tension. "It’s all good, mate." he said, giving Theo’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Honestly. No harm done." His tone was light, casual, like he was brushing it all off as if it hadn’t mattered at all. Blaise had always been the type to keep the peace when he could, trying to nudge things back toward their usual warmth.

But Mattheo’s face was another story, his jaw clenched tight as he glared at the door through which Theo’s girlfriend had just exited. He shook his head, muttering under his breath, "I’m getting real tired of this." his voice laced with barely controlled anger. His gaze flicked to Theo, and for a second, it looked like he might say something else, but he bit back his words, stewing silently.

The group sat there in uneasy silence, the usual lively atmosphere muted, everyone nursing their own thoughts. Theo’s shoulders stayed slumped, and you could sense the regret and frustration rolling off him in waves.

Just as the quiet began to settle, Pansy’s entire body tensed beside you. Her gaze was fixed on the far side of the room, her eyes wide. Following Pansy’s wide-eyed stare, your gaze landed on the far side of the common room where Theo’s girlfriend had reappeared, but she wasn’t alone.

Your stomach dropped as you saw her pressed up against another student from your house, their faces close, her hands running through his hair as she leaned in, kissing him with a brazen, shameless fervour. She didn’t seem to care who might see them, her actions loud and clear as if she were making a statement for everyone in the room.

A stunned silence fell over the group, each of you frozen in shock and disbelief. Blaise’s hand slipped off Theo’s shoulder as his jaw tightened, his earlier attempt at easing the mood now rendered meaningless. Mattheo muttered something under his breath, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white.

But Theo—Theo just stared, his face going pale as he watched her with that other guy, his expression a mixture of hurt and anger, mingled with a strange, hollow acceptance. It was as if he’d suspected something like this all along, yet seeing it unfold was a wound far deeper than anything he could have anticipated.

The tension in the room had reached a breaking point, each of you waiting for someone to say or do something, the air thick with disbelief and fury.

Theo didn’t say a word as he got up, his face blank, and headed toward the exit. You could see the tremor in his hands as he reached into his pocket, likely going for a cigarette to calm his fraying nerves. Without a glance back, he slipped out the door, leaving a heavy tension in his wake.

The second he was gone, you felt something snap inside you. Your fists clenched, and before you knew it, you were on your feet, ignoring the surprised looks from your friends as you made a straight line across the room, heading directly toward her.

She was still laughing with the guy she’d been kissing, completely unbothered, until she caught sight of you storming toward her. Her eyes narrowed, a look of feigned innocence crossing her face as she crossed her arms, almost daring you to confront her.

“What’s your problem?” she sneered, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“What’s my problem?” you spat, the words tumbling out like fire. “What’s your problem, throwing yourself at some random guy in front of everyone when Theo’s just… just sitting there?” You could barely contain the anger shaking through you. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to him?”

She rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Oh, please. Like it matters. Theo’s been a miserable bore for months. And who are you to talk to me about what I can or can’t do? Jealous, are we?”

A sharp, bitter laugh escaped you. “Jealous? No. I’m furious. Furious that you’ve taken someone who used to be happy and turned him into whatever you think he should be for your own ego.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “You don’t know anything about us.”

“Oh, I know enough.” you shot back. “Enough to see you don’t care about him. He deserves better than to be treated like your possession, like some accessory you can throw away the second you get bored.”

The argument escalated, voices rising as the tension boiled over. Each accusation only fueled her anger, and she stepped closer, her voice venomous. “You think you’re so noble, don’t you? Acting like you know what’s best for him. Maybe he’s miserable because you all can’t let go of him.”

The room erupted as you snapped, the anger in you boiling over as you shot back, “You know what? You’re nothing but a manipulative bitch.” The words were barely out of your mouth before her face twisted with rage, and without warning, she shoved you hard, almost knocking you backward.

That was it.

Without a second thought, you lunged forward, colliding with her as the two of you stumbled, grabbing at each other in a flurry of fury. The next moments were a blur of shouts, hands, and the sharp sting of pulled hair and clawing nails as you both fought, neither one willing to back down.

Draco, Blaise, Mattheo, and Pansy were on you in seconds, surrounding the chaos, but looking caught between trying to pull you apart and staying out of the way. Blaise’s eyes widened, flicking between you and the girl as if he couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Draco stepped forward, arms out, calling your name, but the intensity of the fight kept him at bay.

“Bloody hell!” Mattheo shouted, looking between you and Draco, unsure whether to jump in or let you have it out. “Someone pull them off each other!”

Pansy, on the other hand, didn’t hesitate. She moved in closer, her voice sharp and commanding as she tried to grab your arm. “Enough! You’re going to get us all into trouble—stop!”

But the damned bitch was relentless, snarling as she tried to push you away, her eyes alight with rage. “Stay out of our business, you’re nothing to him! Just some desperate hanger-on!”

Fueled by her words, you managed to break free from Pansy’s grasp for a moment, lunging again, but this time, Draco and Mattheo grabbed you by the shoulders, dragging you back as Pansy stepped in between, raising her voice. “Stop it, both of you!”

The door creaked open, and Theo appeared in the doorway, cigarette in hand, eyes wide as he took in the scene unfolding before him. The shock on his face was unmistakable as he realized what had happened, confusion turning to something darker as he looked between you and his girlfriend, who was now dishevelled, panting, and glaring at you with venom in her eyes.

You stood there, chest heaving, adrenaline still surging through you as you tried to regain control. The room was dead silent, everyone too stunned to move, but your gaze was locked on her—bruised, bloodied and dishevelled, glaring up at you with a twisted smirk on her face.

“You think you’re so special, don’t you?” she sneered, her voice dripping with malice. “The only reason why Theo even stays close to you is because he pities you… and your pathetic dead parents.”

The words struck a nerve deep within, unleashing a storm of anger that washed over you like a tidal wave. Before you knew it, you’d pulled out your wand, rage blinding you, the incantation forming on your lips as the words seethed out, “Cruc—”

But before you could finish, a hand clamped over your mouth, silencing the curse in an instant. Theo had rushed behind you, his grip firm yet desperate, his wide eyes filled with panic, fear, and something else—something pleading.

“Enough.” he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. His hand stayed pressed over your mouth, holding you back, while his other hand gently grasped your wrist, lowering your wand.

You blinked, the anger slowly dissolving into a mess of emotions, the weight of what you’d nearly done settling over you. Theo didn’t move, keeping his steady hold on you.Theo glanced around at the group, his expression a mixture of exhaustion, and protectiveness. Without another word, he took your hand, his grip firm but gentle, and led you out of the common room, past the stunned silence of your friends. Draco, Blaise, Mattheo, and Pansy watched, exchanging concerned looks but staying silent, knowing this was something only Theo could handle.

He guided you through the dimly lit corridor, never loosening his hold on your hand as he made his way to his dorm room. You followed in a daze, your heart still pounding as the adrenaline began to ebb, replaced by a confusing whirl of emotions—anger, shame, relief, all tangled up together.

Once you were inside his dormitory, he shut the door behind you both, locking it with a quick flick of his wand. The room was quiet, a soft glow from the lamps casting a warm light over his belongings, the familiar scent of his cologne faintly lingering in the air. Theo turned to face you, his hand still holding yours as he took a deep breath, his expression softened, though his eyes remained filled with a quiet intensity.

“You… you almost used Crucio.” he murmured, his voice a mix of disbelief and concern. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, grounding you, as he searched your face, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened.

You looked down, feeling a wave of guilt rise up, the weight of what you’d nearly done settling heavily on your shoulders. “I’m sorry.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I just… she went too far. She’s hurt you way too much, Theo.”

Theo exhaled, releasing some of the tension in his shoulders, and took a step closer, his gaze softening further. “I know.” he said quietly. “I’ve known for a while now. I just didn’t want to believe it.”

He let go of your hand only to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing softly across your cheek, grounding you, as he whispered, “But you… you can’t let her make you into something you’re not.”

~~~

Theo never officially ended things with his girlfriend. There was no formal breakup, no final argument, but it didn’t matter—everyone could see that it was over. She didn’t come around anymore, didn’t dare try to force her way back into the friend group after the scene you’d caused. The bruises you’d left had faded, but the message had been loud and clear, and it seemed she’d finally accepted it.

You’d earned yourself a month of detention for the fight, and though the professors had given you disappointed looks and stern lectures, none of it fazed you. You took the punishment with a sense of pride, wearing it like a badge of honour. If you had to do it all over again, you would. Theo’s well-being, his freedom, had been worth every second spent scrubbing cauldrons and rewriting parchments under Filch’s glare. You weren’t ashamed for putting her in her place; she’d deserved it and more.

The only lingering regret was that split-second decision to pull your wand, to nearly utter the curse that could have changed everything. That was the one thing that weighed on you, the reminder that, in your anger, you’d almost let her bring out the darkest part of yourself. But Theo had stopped you, pulled you back from the edge. And in the quiet moments of your detentions, it was that thought that lingered, his hand on yours, his voice steadying you when you’d needed it most.

Since then, Theo had been… different. Freer, lighter, as though the weight he’d been carrying had finally lifted. He didn’t say much about what had happened, but he was around you constantly, seeking you out, sitting beside you in classes and at meals, sharing quiet moments without needing to speak.

He never said it directly, but in the way he looked at you, the way he stayed close, it was clear. You’d been there for him when he’d needed it most, and he wasn’t about to forget it.

As the weeks passed, the group’s dynamic began to shift back to normal, the heaviness that had hung over everything finally starting to lift. The familiar laughter and banter returned, the camaraderie that had once been the foundation of your friendship rekindled. It felt like everyone could breathe again, like the unspoken tension had finally evaporated, taking with it the gloom of Theo’s toxic relationship.

The others hadn’t let you off easily, though. Ever since that night, they’d given you a new nickname, a playful jab that seemed to stick—“The Hitman.” Whenever you entered a room, Mattheo or Blaise would grin and say something like, “Look out, the Hitman’s here. Better watch what we say.” Draco would give you a mock salute, pretending to be wary of your next move, and Pansy would pat you on the shoulder, shaking her head with a smile and muttering, “Our very own bodyguard.”

They teased you relentlessly, but you didn’t mind. If anything, it filled you with a quiet pride. You’d earned it, and knowing they’d all be just as protective over you, had the situation been reversed, only strengthened the bond between you all.

Theo, meanwhile, seemed to have thrown himself back into Quidditch with renewed energy. Every practice was more intense, every play sharper. He channelled all his frustration, all the months of suppressed anger, into the pitch, his focus like a laser. Theo was back to being the friend you remembered—driven, concentrated, locked in on his own priorities, and finally unburdened. Watching him fly across the field with that fierce determination, you knew he was ready to leave the past behind.

And as he trained, you couldn’t help but notice the small glances he’d send your way after a particularly successful practice. When he’d make an impressive play, his gaze would drift toward the stands, where he knew you were watching, his grin just a bit wider when he caught your eye. It was as if he was finally himself again—fierce, focused, and free.

~~~

The final match of the season had the entire school buzzing, and you and Pansy stood shoulder to shoulder in the stands, bundled against the brisk wind, your hearts pounding with excitement. The atmosphere was electric, green and silver flags waving wildly in the air, cheers rising like waves as the players took their positions on the field. The Slytherin team was locked in, each player’s gaze fierce, and at the centre of it all was Theo—focused, determined, every bit the player you’d always believed he could be.

From the first whistle, the match was intense, a flurry of movement as players darted back and forth, Quaffles flying, Bludgers smashing through the air. Every play had you and Pansy gasping or shouting, barely able to stay still as the score climbed steadily, each team battling for dominance. Gryffindor’s Chasers were relentless, pressing the Slytherin defence with an intensity that sent chills through the stands.

As Gryffindor advanced toward the goal, weaving past Slytherin players with almost frightening speed, your heart raced. Theo was there, hovering near the posts, watching, waiting. The Gryffindor Chaser drew closer, feinting left before taking a sharp turn to the right, raising his arm to shoot. You held your breath, fingers digging into the railing as the Quaffle hurtled toward the left hoop, aimed with deadly precision.

But Theo was faster. With a sudden, powerful lunge, he darted across the goal, stretching his arm out just in time to deflect the Quaffle. The impact echoed across the pitch, and for a split second, everything was still. Then, the Slytherin section of the stands erupted in cheers, and you and Pansy screamed, jumping up and down, adrenaline surging through you.

“Yes! Did you see that?” Pansy shrieked, grabbing your arm as she laughed in pure exhilaration. “He saved it! He actually saved it!”

Your eyes were locked on Theo, who was grinning, his face flushed with triumph as he exchanged a brief look with Draco, who had already positioned himself higher above the pitch. The save had disrupted Gryffindor’s formation, and in the split second of chaos, Draco seized his chance, his eyes fixed on a flash of gold darting across the field.

“Go, Draco!” you shouted, your voice barely audible over the crowd’s roar. Your hands were clenched, and Pansy was beside herself, both of you leaning so far over the railing that you might as well have been on brooms yourselves.

Draco was a blur as he sped after the Snitch, his eyes narrowed, his entire body angled forward with singular purpose. Gryffindor’s Seeker was close behind him, pushing hard to catch up, but Draco had the lead, his broom slicing through the air as he reached out, his fingers grazing the Snitch’s fluttering wings.

“Come on, come on…” Pansy muttered, clutching your arm as you both watched, barely daring to breathe.

With a final lunge, Draco’s hand closed around the Snitch, raising it triumphantly in the air. The crowd erupted, the Slytherin side a sea of celebration as students cheered, shouted, and hugged. You and Pansy screamed, the exhilaration almost overwhelming, watching as Theo and the other Slytherin players surrounded Draco, lifting him onto their shoulders, their faces bright with victory.

Before you knew it, the entire house was rushing down to the pitch, flooding onto the field in a wave of green and silver. You and Pansy exchanged a breathless look before joining the charge, weaving through the ecstatic crowd, eager to congratulate the team.

The players were already on the ground, grinning, shouting, their faces flushed with victory as they clapped each other on the back. Theo, Blaise, Mattheo, and Draco stood in the middle of it all, surrounded by the crowd, practically lifted off their feet by their housemates’ enthusiasm.

You and Pansy finally pushed through, laughing as you spotted Theo first, his hair messy and his cheeks pink, looking more alive than you’d ever seen him. Without a second thought, you wrapped him in a hug, feeling his arms come around you tightly, the two of you sharing a moment of pure celebration, all the weight of the past weeks forgotten in the euphoria.

“You were amazing, Theo!” you shouted over the noise, pulling back to meet his eyes. His grin was wide and genuine, the happiness in his expression infectious.

“Only because I had the best fans cheering me on.” he replied with a wink, his voice filled with excitement.

Pansy immediately pulled Draco into a hug, shouting something about how he’d almost given her a heart attack with that final dive for the Snitch. Draco laughed, hugging her back before turning to you, and you threw your arms around him, congratulating him on the catch.

One by one, you and Pansy made your way through the group, hugging each of the boys, feeling the thrill of victory in every laugh, every smile. Mattheo picked you up briefly, spinning you around before setting you down, both of you laughing as he ruffled your hair. Blaise gave you a quick hug, still beaming as he clapped Theo on the shoulder, their shared pride shining through.

The air buzzed with joy and triumph as the celebration continued on the field, the Slytherin house united in victory, the players and friends all caught up in the moment, letting the adrenaline and happiness wash over them. This was the kind of memory that would stay with you forever—the kind of joy that felt limitless, boundless, and for a moment, everything was perfect.

As the crowd began to move off the pitch, heading back to the Slytherin common room with laughter and celebration echoing through the night, you felt a gentle tug on your arm. Turning, you found Theo beside you, his hand lingering on your wrist as he subtly pulled you back from the group. His expression was warm, his eyes softened with something quieter than the exhilaration of the victory, and your heart skipped a beat as you slowed to match his pace.

The others drifted ahead, too wrapped up in their own excitement to notice the two of you hanging back. Theo glanced around, making sure no one was watching, before he looked at you with a faint smile.

“I wanted to thank you.” he said, his voice low, barely audible over the lingering noise of celebration. “For everything. Not just for tonight.”

You felt a warmth spread through you as he spoke, his words carrying a weight that went beyond the game, beyond the victory. It was about everything that had happened—the support, the fight, the loyalty you’d shown him through the toughest moments.

“You don’t have to thank me,. you replied softly, smiling up at him. “I’d do it all over again if I had to.”

Theo’s eyes held yours, something unspoken passing between you. Then, without another word, he pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you with a warmth and familiarity that felt like home. You could feel his heartbeat against yours, steady and strong, and for a brief moment, the rest of the world faded away.

As he pulled back, his face close to yours, he hesitated, his gaze flickering to your lips for the briefest of seconds before he looked away, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks. Clearing his throat, he grinned, the moment of vulnerability passing as he nodded toward the path ahead.

For a brief second, a tense, awkward silence settled between you, each of you unsure of what to do, the unspoken tension hanging heavy in the cool night air. You could feel your pulse racing, your heart hammering with the anticipation that had been building for what felt like ages.Theo cleared his throat, looking away for a moment as if to collect himself, but when he glanced back at you, his eyes lingered, conflicted yet intent. As if deciding all at once, he leaned in, his hand reaching up to gently cup your cheek, and before either of you could think twice, his lips brushed softly against yours.

The kiss was brief but electric, a quiet intensity that sent a thrill through you, leaving you breathless. But just as you began to process what was happening, he pulled back, his hand falling to his side as he looked down, his cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and guilt.

“I… I’m sorry.” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I shouldn’t have— I didn’t mean to—”

You could see the regret in his eyes, the way he seemed to be bracing himself for your reaction, almost ashamed. He looked ready to pull away, to distance himself again. You felt a surge of determination rise within you. You couldn’t let him pull away, not when the moment felt so right. As he started to step back, you reached out, your fingers brushing gently against his hand, grounding him before he could retreat.

Without hesitation, you leaned forward, closing the small distance between you, and kissed him—slowly, deeply, allowing the tension and emotions that had built up to flow freely. This time, there was no awkwardness, no hesitation, only the warmth of his lips against yours, the steady beat of his heart echoing through the touch.

Theo stilled for a moment, his surprise quickly melting into something softer, more certain, as he responded, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer. The world around you faded, the distant sounds of laughter and celebration from the common room dimming as you both gave in to the kiss, the barriers that had held you apart finally breaking down. The kiss deepened, a magnetic pull drawing you closer until the world outside that moment ceased to exist. Theo’s hands traced a path up your back, sending a warmth through you that made everything else fade. His lips moved with a gentleness, a passion that left you breathless, a release of everything the two of you had held back for so long.

Somehow, amid the intensity, his Quidditch shirt slipped off, discarded in the haze of your closeness. When you finally pulled away, both of you breathless, he paused, his eyes dark with a mixture of affection and amusement as he looked down at the shirt in his hands. Without a word, he lifted it, slipping it gently over your shoulders, letting the familiar, slightly worn fabric settle around you.

The warmth of his hands lingered as he adjusted the shirt on you, his gaze softening as he took in the sight. You looked down, cheeks blazing when you caught a glimpse of his toned chest, the result of years of Quidditch training, each muscle defined and yet somehow perfectly understated. His eyes sparkled as he noticed your blush, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Come on.” he murmured, his voice soft as he reached for your hand. He squeezed it, grounding you back to the moment, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. With a gentle tug, he pulled you back toward the Slytherin common room, the warmth of his presence steady beside you as the night’s quiet secrets lingered in the air around you.

As you and Theo stepped into the common room, the lively energy of the celebration settled into a curious, knowing silence. Every eye flicked between the two of you—his shirt draped around you, cheeks flushed, Theo’s hair slightly tousled. It didn’t take much for your friends to put the pieces together, but no one dared to say a word, their smiles a mix of amusement and silent approval.

Draco raised an eyebrow, shooting a smirk in Theo’s direction, while Mattheo gave you a subtle thumbs-up, as though finally, after everything, a balance had been restored. Blaise’s grin was unmistakable, though he kept his comments to himself for once, nodding at you in quiet acknowledgment.

Across the room, Pansy caught your eye, her own gaze softened with pride and understanding. She gave you a small, satisfied smile, as if she’d known this was inevitable all along. You returned her glance, feeling the warmth of friendship and relief wash over you, grounding you in the moment.

Without a word, Theo’s hand found yours again, squeezing it gently. In that simple touch, everything felt right, all the struggles and tension finally giving way to a peace you’d both waited so long for. You looked around, surrounded by friends who had stood by you both, and for the first time in months, everything felt exactly as it should be.

And as you settled down into the couch beside Theo, your fingers still intertwined, a quiet contentment settled over the room, the unspoken promise of new beginnings hanging in the air.

Likes, reblogs and comments are always very much appreciated! ♡

© slytherinsmuse. please do not copy, claim, translate or steal any of my works as your own.

[thewertsearch]

EB: but in the end, you did it to help me, didn't you? EB: really, i should probably be thanking you! EB: uh… EB: are you there? AG: Yes, I am here. AG: Sorry, I wasn't sure what to say for a moment. AG: I am just so incredi8ly relieved you are not angry with me.

This is probably the first time anyone's ever appreciated Vriska’s 'help'.

She's used to (justified) hostility from the trolls. The idea that John would thank her is as alien to her as he is. She can barely comprehend it.

AG: I don't know, John. You'd 8e surprised how often people resent it when you try to help them! AG: 8ut see, you really get it. That's why you're special.

Well, hang on a second, Vriska.

Tavros resented you for a good fucking reason. Things aren't different because John's 'special', they're different because you're actively treating him better than your last apprentice.

Vriska enjoyed torturing Tavros. Maybe she did think she was ‘helping’ him, but she also knew it was a miserable experience for the guy. There was an undertone of sadism to it that can't be denied, no matter what her true intentions were.

Contrast this with John, who she killed painlessly in his sleep. She didn't torment him, she didn't gloat or insult him, and she went out of her way to make his death as comfortable as possible. Unlike Tavros, Vriska actually cares about John's well-being, and that's why he's more receptive.

John's thankful because he can tell that Vriska cares, and Tavros resented her 'training' because he knew she didn't. Does she really not grok the difference?

AG: I know how this is pro8a8ly going to sound, especially to a human. AG: 8ut I just killed someone.

And I think you’re having some very unwelcome feelings about it.

Just what is happening to you, Vriska?

AG: He was a friend. AG: Someone from our team. [��] AG: The truth is I killed him 8ecause at the time, I thought I wanted to, and sort of felt like I finally had to.

I think you killed him because that's what you're trained for. Years of FLARPing with Terezi has trained you to deal with problematic trolls decisively and violently, and years of feeding your lusus has taught you that being a murderer is what defines you. From multiple directions at once, your instincts were screaming that it was time for Tavros to die.

And yet... you're saying you thought you had to kill him. You're not sure anymore - and thus, a small crack begins to form in your worldview.

Vriska Serket is beginning to change.

[drdemonprince]

Hi Dr. Price,

I’m a huge fan of your work and I’ve found it immensely helpful in figuring out who I am.

In recent years I’ve discovered I am both AuDHD and Bi. My partner is also Bi and very supportive. However we have been together for over a decade and I’m struggling a lot lately with the fact that I’ve never actually been with anyone else. I’ve been spending a lot of time in queer spaces online and finding myself wishing I could at least experience some of what they do.

I love her more than anything and would never do anything to hurt her. She’s not interested in opening things up in any way, which I completely respect and to be fair I’m not even sure that’s truly something I would want either.

I guess I’m just asking if you have any advice on these overwhelming feelings of missing out on aspects of life I never knew I even missed? Other than using porn to get it out of my mind as I’m worried that’s affecting our relationship sexually, which is another issue. Should I find a dating sim game or something to push all of these thoughts on to? It’s kind of messed up but I feel like if I was allowed to flirt online and not actually act on it that might satisfy me? I don’t know.

If nothing else thank you so much for your work and giving me a space to get this off my chest. ❤️

Because I am of the mind that most longings for queer expression/recognition/community cannot and should not be met with media consumption, I'm not going to tell you that there is any kind of game that can simulate queer erotic contact in a way that will be remotely satisfying for you.

You and your partner's desires for your relationship and its boundaries are important and matter, but alongside that, I would also encourage you to listen to that urge that tells you that you'd love to flirt online with a sexy queer stranger as a way to let a little of the steam off.

The wants you are feeling are real, and when disregarded or left unattended they can spiral out in all kinds of unpleasant ways, from just regular garden variety frustration, to resentment, to conducting years long emotional affairs with agoraphobic instagram thot boys you met online (not that I know anything about that).

You want to be recognized by another queer person as a sexually desirable, available person, you want to feel the rush of a developing romance, you want the future to be filled with possibility and excitement, you want to know that your life is not over and that there's still more to learn about yourself and more experiences to enjoy -- these are all good things. These are important things, and I promise you that it is very unlikely that you won't get to experience more desire, attraction, sexual contact, romance, and heartbreak in the years to come.

Most relationships end. Those that last more than a couple of years undergo dramatic shifts over the course of their tenure. And so, it is very likely that you and your partner will either eventually split, or your various desires and capacities will become incompatible in certain ways, and you will contemplate some kind of change to the relationship dynamic (or someone will fail to communicate this and cheat. hopefully not that one. But if it does happen, well. It's very common and not the end of the world or even necessarily the end of the bond).

How does it feel to confront this information? That in all likelihood, this relationship will either end, open up in some way, change dramatically in its dynamic, or be marked by one or both parties stepping out in some way, however small, be it an online flirtation or a kiss at a party or a sexual affair? I think your feelings in response to that information is important too. And that regardless of what you and your partner decide for the time being, it is an important series of potentialities to reflect on and emotionally prepare oneself for. Also worth asking: are these potential futures ones that you can speak to your partner about? One of them will likely be headed for you in time, not through any fault of your own or due to lack of love, but simply because people change and relationships develop, just like a person develops. Whether or not these are subjects that can be broached is itself valuable information, too.

Now personally, I am very biased, but I think there is very little harm in having some virtual sex with a consenting stranger, roleplaying sexy interactions online, even getting on a dating or cruising app and posting a few anonymized photos and seeing what kind of attention you get and enjoying the rush. I think that kind of thing is all within the realm of the harmless and forgivable, but hey, my sister just ended an engagement over her fiance doing that kind of thing, so not everyone agrees with me clearly.

But I think it is worth at least contemplating the full, long continuum of infidelity that exists, from having a whole secret other marriage and family and keeping a partner in the dark about it on one end, say, and making bedroom eyes with a cute person at the bar and fantasizing about what if what if what if, on the other. If your partner did anything along that whole continuum, you might be hurt, and likewise they might be if you do.

You say you love your partner more than anything and would never do anything to hurt her. But you can't really promise yourself that. Every partner hurts one another in some way or another, sometimes even intentionally, over the course of a long relationship. But hurting one another in a relationship is, also, not the end of the world. We all make mistakes, say things we regret, lose control of our faculties at times, or are simply forced to reconcile that what we need conflicts with what another person does. And sometimes we put our needs first, even though it's uncomfortable.

I don't regret the times I cheated. I regret the lack of communication and cowardice that brought me to that half-formed, unarticulated decision. But I don't regret ever having chosen to listen to needs that had been powerfully screaming inside of me, typically for years before I attended to them.

I think you and your partner should continue having very frank conversations about these topics, and do your best to regulate your own anxieties and feelings of relationship threat when the other party brings up an activity or an idea that makes the other feel scared. The choice isn't to remain monogamous or to become fully polyamorous with no hierarchy. There are a lot of activities you can both decide are either okay or not okay, and conditions under which you will engage in them.

Even what counts as "monogamy" is subject to fierce debate, that's part of why so many jealous straight people destroy one another so easily. Is texting someone you think is cute in a flirtatious but ultimately just friendly way cheating? Is dancing with someone else cheating? What kind of dancing is okay and is not? Is cuddling on the couch? Working on erotica together? Kissing? Is watching porn with someone else cheating? Is masturbating to a video they sent you?

You might have a very visceral response to these questions, but those are just like, your opinions. They are not set in stone and you can easily find another monogamous person who is just as adamant about completely opposing rules and definitions of what monogamy means to them. And so, it's worth talking with your partner and really being honest with yourself about what it is you want to do, what is decidedly off the table, and what the hell it even is that you two are talking about when you discuss your relationship and its limits.

If it were me, and if I could wave a wand and make you and your partner feel okay about and agree to a set of relationship limits, I think you should consider flirting with actual queer people online. But I can't control other people's behavior or emotions, as much as I have tried. But you can at least contemplate (and then discuss) alternate ways of getting the kind of attention that you desire.

There are lots of things you can do to scratch your itch that are not having sex or dating someone else: LARPing (there is larping that has a sexual or romantic component!). Tabletop games. Acting or improv that incorporates romantic or sexual elements. Going to a sex party and just WATCHING people do stuff. Going to a gay bar and just hanging out and socializing. Going to a cruising bar and watching people fuck. Going to a dungeon for a class or a demo. Going on gay speed dating but secretly agreeing that you're not actually going to take anybody home, you're just gonna see how it feels. Wearing a slutty outfit to pride and waving and winking at people. Exchanging heartfelt letters with a queer friend who you have chemistry with but who respects your relationship.

These are just some ideas, but the possibilities are limitless. One day, you and your partner might agree that you are open to having sex with other people, or flirting, but not to them having other lasting relationships. maybe you'll have threesomes together or one partner will watch the other fuck casual hook-ups. Or maybe you'll just break up. Who knows what the future holds! No matter what it is, you can figure it out with both love and commitment to your partner, but also the courage to name what you are feeling and to honor your desires. None of those things have to be incompatible, and monogamy doesn't have to be incompatible with getting a little thrill here and there either.

Good luck!

[anothermansjeans]

not sure if you’re taking requests but i would love to see a part two to the singer!reader, like maybe the team all goes to her concert together! thank you!

HI!! i'm so glad the people loved the first singer!reader blurb!! this is a part 2 to the first one, and while the whole team isn't at her concert, i added penelope in!! i have plans for when the team first meets reader which will be in a separate blurb! hope you enjoy :)

cw: spencer and penelope at reader's concert :) a swear word (1), spencer is flustered

wc: 2k (i may have over done it)

singer!reader masterlist

++

Spencer sat in the cold police precinct in Philadelphia with JJ, Rossi, and Penelope (she was a vital resource, needing to come with the team on this case), counting down the minutes until Hotch, Derek, Emily, and a few Philly officers came back with the unsub in custody. As soon as they got back and the case was deemed closed, he could go and see you.

Obviously, he went to your concert last night, had you stay over, and slept in as much as possible before you had to leave for your next stop on tour and Spencer had to get to the office. The reason he was so hellbent on seeing you tonight as well is because when you're touring and he does his regular BAU job, the two of you barely see each other. Your tour kicked off three months ago, starting in Europe, and he didn't get to visit any of those shows, so when the U.S leg came around, he wanted to be as present as possible.

That too, was very hard.

Spencer loves his job, really, he does, but when he plans on using the allotted resting days the team gets after a case to visit you, and ends up getting called in anyway… he has grown some resentment over the time. So now– here in Philadelphia, where you are– he plans on missing out on the trip back with the team and instead, watch your show again. The only other thing in the back of his mind right now were the words of your last text to him.

Y/N: OH MY GOD OKAY!! i’m so happy you can make it, spence 🫶

Y/N: omg PLEASE invite that friend of yours too!! i'm so sorry she couldn't get tickets for d.c :(

When Spencer initially told you about Penelope and how she ousted your relationship just from a video online, you completely lost it. In a “oh my God, I'm going to piss my pants, I’m laughing so hard” kind of way. Your exact words to him when he was on the phone with you as he sat in his hotel room. You didn't have a problem with his friends and family knowing. You actually encouraged him to let his closest people in, but he valued you and how you wanted to keep him out of the public eye as much as possible, so he simply didn't say anything to anyone. The respect you have for each other is insanely beautiful.

So he felt as though he was between a rock and a hard place. He wanted to let the team in. They're his family, but once he lets them in– once he invites Penelope to this free concert offered by his girlfriend, he was losing an extra security blanket in keeping your wishes. He knew your wishes were solely there to benefit him and his job and her personal life, but it was still something that worried you to the point of breaking down every once in a while, and he would do everything in his power to make sure that doesn't happen again.

When those who went out to obtain the unsub came back, Spencer stood up, knowing once they got the confession they were done, and went to idly walk by the desk Penelope was sitting at.

“Yes, Mr. Into You. how can I help you?” She smirked at her words, causing Spencer to roll his eyes.

“You don't know that song is about me.” Her deadpan expression caused Spencer to sigh, “okay, fine. Anyway, I was wondering if you had plans for tonight. Like, after the case.”

Placing her hand on her chest, she batted her eyelashes. “Well, sweets, I'm flattered, but I don't think your girlfriend would be too happy.”

“Penelope.”

“Sorry!”

Wringing his fingers together, Spencer bit the inside of his cheek. “Y/N has a concert here in Philadelphia–”

“I’m well aware.”

“And she told me to invite you along tonight. She’s sorry you couldn't get tickets to D.C.”

A gasp left her lips and she stood to her feet quickly, “oh my lanta!” The volume of her voice caused chatter to quiet around them, and she sheepishly smiled at everyone, “sorry! But oh my– Spencer, are you joking? Because if you are, this is cruel and unusual punishment, Dr. FBI man.”

“It’s not a joke, Pen.”

“Eek!” She threw her arms around his neck without thinking, and Spencer, while he hesitated at first, eventually welcomed the hug. “Thank you so much!”

“You can thank her when you meet her.”

“Meet her–? I– oh…” Her eyes went wide with excitement, “I am so excited!”

And so was he. He didn't show it until the two of them got there though. You were very busy getting ready before the show, so when your manager met him and Penelope in the back of the venue, he insisted that the two of them went straight to your friends and family section and that he could see you afterwards. The excitement in his eyes became very apparent the moment the opening chords to your song Positions. Penelope was singing and dancing, while Spencer did his signature head bop– that's how you knew you made a good song.

it was about halfway through the set when you got to Nonsense, a song everyone looked forward to. You did a different outro every stop of the tour. Yesterday’s outro was a very colorful depiction of him and his… skills in the bedroom because you knew he was going to be there. There was no way he’d be embarrassed again.

“This song’s catchier than chicken pox is

I bet your house is where my other sock is

Woke up this morning, thought I’d write a pop it

How quickly can you take your clothes off, pop quiz?

There's a lot to do out here in philly

My man came here so he can come and feel me

His body keeps me warm, I'm never chilly.”

You laughed as you looked over to the family and friends section, and immediately recognized the face you love becoming tinted with red by the minute. A couple songs later, you performed one of your newest songs, Vigilante Shit. You were the most excited for this portion of your set when you added it after it first released. You were on break after the Europe leg and couldn't stop going over all of the choreography, Spencer being the very first person not on your team to watch, and he thought it was incredible (even if it was with a kitchen chair in his living room).

When performing, you always put on your best show, but sometimes, if Spencer’s in the audience, you amp it up a bit. Which is what you did now. One of the moves involved having a leg propped up on the chair and slinking your hand down your body. When Spencer was there, you went extra hard with the facial expressions, giving it more sexuality. You also made sure to roll your body and stick your ass out a bit more whenever you stood up from the chair, making sure you're giving him a good view. It’s what your boyfriend deserved.

And while you always thought you were doing good by him (because he would never tell you otherwise), he was always as red as a tomato– especially now with Penelope next to him, moving her phone camera between you and him, capturing the dance and his reaction. He felt his warm cheeks begin to cool when you moved onto your next song, but that flush inevitably came back the moment you picked up your guitar for the acoustic set and shifted your eyes towards him.

“We are now moving onto the acoustic set!” The crowd went wild, as always, and you continued, “tonight is actually a little different… I’ll still sing ‘Picture You’ and ‘Dress’, but I wanted to add a new one.” You began strumming your guitar gently, “It’s not released yet, but I have someone here I want to dedicate it to… this one’s about you, you know who you are. I love you.”

“Oh my God!” Penelope once again whipped out her phone, but all Spencer could do was stare at your trembling hands as you continued to strum.

“Oh, no, did I get too close?

Oh, did I almost see what's really on the inside?

All your insecurities

All the dirty laundry

Never made me blink one time”

He held his breath as you continued to sing.

“Unconditional, unconditionally

I will love you unconditionally

There is no fear now

Let go and just be free

I will love you unconditionally”

And he released the air from his lungs.

“Come just as you are to me

Don't need apologies

Know that you are worthy

“I’ll take your bad days with your good

Walk through the storm, I would

I do it all because I love you

I love you”

And as you continued with the song, Spencer felt tears well up in his eyes. Of course, he didn't let any of them fall, slyly wiping them as Penelope was putting her phone back away.

You had about 2 songs left when Spencer spotted one of your security guys discreetly getting his attention so that he could go backstage. He tapped Penelope on the shoulder, and tilted his head towards the guy. “We’re gonna watch the rest of the show backstage if that's okay?”

Mouth opening and shutting, she nodded her head, following the two men in front of her. Spencer could tell Pen felt out of her element back there with the rest of the crew, especially knowing that in about thirty seconds now, you were going to be saying your goodbyes and head off stage.

“Thank you so much, Philadelphia! I had a wonderful time. Thank you to my band, and my dancers. The amazing audio techs and the entire crew that keeps this show running! Have a great night!”

Running towards them, you gave Spencer a big smile before leaping into his arms to give him a hug. “Hi. You were incredible,” you felt him mutter against your neck.

“Hi. Thank you,” you muttered back, only staying in his arms a second longer so that you could greet the other guest. “Hi, I’m Y/N!”

“H-Hi! I’m Penelope!” Not knowing what to do, she stuck out her hand, but you brushed it aside, opting for a hug instead.

“I’m more of a hugger.”

She laughed and gave you a nod as you released each other. “Me too.” She looked between you and Spencer for a moment with a wide grin. “You're even prettier in person. You're also incredible, and your music is amazing and I love everything about you.”

“You're too sweet,” you gave a pout when thinking of her words, “you're gorgeous as well! And I love this dress! Spencer has told me all about you and the rest of the team.”

The three of you continued to chat for a bit, and once you noticed the crew packing things up, you turned towards Penelope and gave her a smile. “Do you want to go out with us? We were just gonna grab dinner.”

“Oh, no! I have someone picking me up.”

“Are you sure?” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows.

“Yes, boy genius, I’m sure. Derek stayed behind so that he could get me back to Quantico. Oh! You need to meet the rest of the team sometime.”

You immediately agreed, squeezing Spencer’s hand so he knows to introduce you to everyone else soon. “One hundred percent.”

“Anyway, I will let you two love birds go. Have a nice night, and I’ll see you at the office, Spencer!”

After getting security to show Penelope where to go to leave, Spencer turned back towards you and pulled you back into his arms. He has never felt so loved in his life, and thinking about you, and that song, and everything life has to offer him at the moment caused the unshed tears from before to finally fall.

“Spencer, are you okay?” You pulled back to see the tears, and cupped his face, “baby, why are you crying?”

“The song was beautiful.”

He didn't answer you explicitly, but from his words mixed with the reaction you knew what was going on. “Thank you… I love you so much,” you said, wiping his cheeks.

“Unconditionally?”

You scoffed and shook your head. “Of course silly.”

++

singer!reader taglist: @itsleilabxtch @wietske27 @taylorswiftilovecowboylikeme @marshatesthisreality @ladylincoln @delightfulmakerpiegiant (tagged some people based in interest! lmk if you want to be taken off the taglist!)

let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

[grussellsprout]

Is This Where It Ends?

Authors Note: this is my first smau fic I have written or fic in general so please leave any suggestions down in the comments that I could do better on when writing and feel free to write any requests in my inbox for current or past drivers on the grid! This is probably gonna be multiple parts and is inspired by Bailey Zimmerman's "Where it ends"

Pairing: Logan "wanna be Captain America" Sergeant x mixedblackcountrysinger! reader

fc: Various pinterest girls

Trope: Childhood best friends to lovers to ex's to ?

Warnings: Logans gonna be problematically toxic sorry guys.

Background: You and 2023 F1 rookie Logan Sergeant grew up together while being neighbors and moms being best friends with each other growing up. The both of them trying to push their kids into a relationship since they were teenagers because of their own teenage dreams of becoming each others in laws. What happens when Logan and you finally give in and give it a shot falling in love however with your music sky rocketing and his racing career going not as expected. What happens when your sweet childhood best friend turned "love of your life" gets resentful of your success and taking you, your love, and support for granted

youruser

liked by logansargeant lilymhe and 954,649 others

youruser Finally got around to making my debut album after much anticipation from y'all. American Romance is out now! featured pic of the inspiration of the album overfilled with love and admiration for the absolute love of my life.

Tagged:logansargeant

logansargeant I love you so much my cowgirl. So proud of you baby!

| youruser awww I love you too Logie Bear thank you sm honey 💕💕💕 liked by logan sargeant

user3 Anyone else feeling incredibly single after listening to her album? just me?

| user2 ALL OF US DO

| landonorris felt incredibly single mate after that listen

| user2 LANDO? damn even the album got to him

lilymhe When do I get my own song or an album @youruser ???? Thought I was the love of your life

| francisca.cgomes get in line for your own song I get one first bc I'm really the love of her life????

| youruser You both will gotta leave the best for last @francisca.cgomes @lilymhe

user7 mother is mothering again

user5 SLAY THE HOUSE DOWN Y/N

With the debut of the new album my social media was exploding and the songs were absolutely everywhere you went. I had interviews left and right on the most know late night shows, even getting to host an episode of SNL as the music guest. Even reaching the media on the paddock being a topic for everyone on the grid as it was blowing up. However it was the only thing that they were discussing with Logan, I could tell it was starting to get to him especially with the his and the team performance in Australia and it heading into the Montreal GP. I tried to make him feel as supported by me in his career as I could. I started to cancel interviews to go to every GP there was on the calendar for the season when he started to show the slightest of signs the media attention getting to him but he just kept pushing me away. No matter what I did to try and give him the support and attention I thought he needed or wanted from me. However it just never felt enough even though I was giving it my all. Showing up to all the sessions with him (attempted to be hand by hand) early in the morning and not leaving the paddock until he was done and set while giving my entire attention to him, even while he was in the garage talking to his mechanics; there I was following him around like a puppy just happy to be there. Meanwhile whenever he did seem to acknowledge my presence, his girlfriend's presence, all he could do was give me a scowl because I was in his way, or distracting the team, or something to get me away from him. We were never like this before, he was never like this before. I was starting to regret releasing the catalyst to what feels the ending of my relationship with who was my everything, who i thought was gonna be my forever.

F1gossipandwags

F1gossipandwags Fans saw y/n l/n looking extremely shocked and confused while upset outside of a restaurant in Miami on Sunday night after Logan Sargeant’s DNF earlier that day. Reports shown while in the restaurant y/n with Sargeant she seemed to be comforting her childhood love while it was only appearing to be irritating Sargeant causing him to “flip out” and storm out of the establishment dragging the music star with him breaking off the 3 year relationship.

user43 WAIT WHAT??????

[kritzel]

Adams Past Thoughts

(English isn't my first language so sorry if I make mistakes)

After finishing HH I got to thinking, was Adam always the way that we see him in the show.

Because he, Lilith and Eve were created without original sin. So it wouldn't make sense for him to be a complete idiot from the beginning.

Here's what I think could be a possibility on what happened (after all we don't know how biased Lilith's book is):

First he and Lilith are created

Maybe he didn't really boss her around and it was more like a situation of a sibling telling the other sibling what to do (I know they where married but it's the only example I could think of)

"Just because you're older doesn't mean you can tell me what to do" kinda way (since Adam probably was made first)

But it was not supposed to be an order from Adam more like a suggestion

So Lilith walks of and meets Lucifer

Heaven realises Lilith won't work as a wife and they create Eve from Adam

Eve is a lot more naive than Lilith

Adam is explicitly told to look after her and make sure she is alright

He does just that and they both are happy together

Lucifer and Lilith create the fruit

And in a rare moment where Eve isn't with Adam she finds the tree

Eve eats the fruit

She gives it to Adam

He eats it too because he loves Eve and doesn't want her to endure the punishment alone

Everything goes downhill from here

I believe they were not really capable of feeling negative emotions before they ate the fruit

Eve being the first to eat it develops a lot of doubts towards Adam

Why wasn't he looking after me? That's what he was supposed to do now we are stuck in a world filled with danger and death

Adam ,who before the fruit didn't care about Lilith leaving him, was now starting to yearn for the woman he never had. She was supposed to be his and now she is with the most hated being of all creation.

They never really expressed the thoughts they had after eating the fruit with eachother

Resentment started building up without them really noticing

They still held love for eachother and tried to survive in a world full of danger

It went alright in the beginning

They had two kids

Everything seemed to look up

But of course Cane kills Abel

And that was the last nail in the coffin

Adam and Eve could not cope with the loss of both their sons (let's pretend Seth never becomes a person in this story)

They still tried to stay together

But the resentment grows bigger

Love turns into hate and a lot of hurtful things are said between them

They separate and go there different ways

And lets pretend Eve really did have something with Lucifer

As soon as Adam hears about that his hate for Lucifer and Eve just grows bigger

What is wrong with these women? What is it about this Lucifer?

He develops a lot of doubts about himself in his living life. Which causes him to develop the fear of being left by anyone who he lets into his life.

After he died he hears all about how great he is being the first man and all

And over the years he starts believing that he can do no wrong and it was only his wife's and Lucifers fault that everything went to shit

And even though deep down he wants a meaningful relationship he opted to just go for hook ups in fear of losing someone again

And after a few thousand years those things develop into the kind of person we see in the show

But this is just one possibility

I hope it is understandable what I'm trying to convey

Please share your thoughts with me.

What do you think happened all these years ago?

[neodreamgirl]

i wonder how the other members feel...

*assuming they weren't aware

**I already made a post talking about how i'm proud of the victim for speaking out

anyway, I wonder how they must feel that their hyung is a weird ass bitch. the way they all talked about him, his talent, his hardwork, etc...the way the 127 members would talk about how much they missed him since his accident back in August of last year. I always think of that video of the Kangaroo unit and how much Chenle wanted his attention. They literally adore this man.

i especially wonder what they feel considering what happened last year with Sungchan and Shotaro leaving to debut in a new group. Let's not forget the situation with Lucas, too. Lucas was hidden for two whole years and then was officially kicked out the same year Sungchan and Shotaro announced their future plans. The lack of stability in this group might be draining to the other members if you think about it. I'd go as far to say that it's chaotic and dysfunctional. I would be on my toes every day if I was a member of NCT are you kidding me? Let's not forget the debut of the Japanese unit, NCT Wish. While members are being kicked out to form new groups and solo careers, an entire reality series is released to debut a new unit. Just like that they're expected to move forward. I'm happy, mind you, that the Wishes got to live their dreams and debut, but the timing of it all really is messy. That is the fault of the management of course, not the members'.

and now THIS? are you SHITTING ME? how do you even process this entire situation? everybody unfollowing him on sns, events being postponed, names trending, people coming up with rumors, pointing fingers at you wondering if you knew etc...ON A GLOBAL SCALE? Oh hell no. Someone you've known, respected, bonded with, formed a brotherhood for over a decade is a FREAK. A LOSER. I remember when I found out someone close to me was a pedophile. I lost my damn mind I couldn't eat. I wondered for days and weeks how I missed the signs. It caused me to not trust ANYONE, not just men. I couldn't even trust my own judgment for a long time. The feeling of having to detach from someone you care so much about because they're a disgusting human being is damaging as hell. You fight with yourself every day because you feel wrong for cherishing happy memories with that person because you feel dirty, but at the same time those moments were real. What do you even do? You force yourself to forget the love and bond so you can accept hate and resentment. It's not like you can forgive the person? Forgive them for what? They didn't do anything to YOU. You're not the victim. You just hate them for being a horrible person.

It's difficult. I really hope that the innocent members of NCT don't beat themselves up. I understand their confusion on a personal level. It's not easy to let go of someone you loved for so long, but you got to. Taeil needs to be dropped by everyone around him. It needs to be done. I hope they find someone to talk to about these things. These changes. Just everything.

Also, just letting y'all know but me mentioning Lucas, Sungchan and Shotaro leaving the group doesn't mean that I believe they should still be in NCT lol i'm talking about the instability of the group

[calaisreno]

An Arrangement

1200 words / Prompt: Hobby

Summary: Mycroft finds an ally

Mycroft Holmes regards the police officer who is sitting on the other side of the desk. Dark eyes, prematurely greying hair. Good at his job, recent promotion. A sense of humour (laugh lines), and an uncompromising commitment to honour. Maybe that’s not quite what it is. Honourable, yes, but it’s an inner sense of rightness, a gut feeling about people. Not impressed by power.

He wonders what DI Lestrade is thinking about the man he’s come to see without an appointment. 

“You’re here about my brother,” he says, sparing him the explanation. 

Lestrade nods. “I’ve seen him around, talked with him a few times. Last night—”

“Thank you.” Mycroft isn’t good at thanking people, not when thanks seem so inadequate. “I am truly grateful that you found him before… well, before more serious harm was done.”

Lestrade looks at him directly, openly, and Mycroft imagines this is the face he uses when interrogating a suspect. “You don’t know what to do with him.”

Surprised at the deduction, he responds. “I have taken some measures. It seems what I’ve attempted has not been successful, but I have the means to try other things.”

“What about your parents?”

“Our parents are not able to fully grasp the problem. Sherlock has always been… difficult. They have never understood him, and blame themselves for his problems. The matter elicits a great deal of emotion, and I have elected to be my brother’s keeper, so to speak, in order to spare them that ordeal.”

“Mr Holmes, I can’t claim to know Sherlock as well as you do, but I know a thing or two about addiction. The measures you’ve taken… well, nothing’s going to work until he’s ready to work on himself.”

Mycroft smiles grimly. “Mr Lestrade, I’m sure you’ve met many junkies in your line of work, but I’m equally sure you’ve never met anyone like Sherlock.”

“True enough. First time I met him he was high, stumbled on a crime scene I was investigating. It was like he had x-ray vision or something. Described exactly what had happened, pointed out where the murder weapon was, even suggested that the murderer was left-handed and had a limp. I didn’t dismiss him as a nut job because I could see it all— he was right.”

Mycroft’s smile is more genuine now. “My brother is several levels above any junkie you’ve met, Mr Lestrade. His problem is one he could solve, if he turned his mind to it. He resents my interference, however, and resists the measures I’ve taken. I will not give up on him, however long it takes. You need not feel responsible for Sherlock.” 

Lestrade stares down at his hands, which he holds clenched in his lap. When he speaks, his voice has lost something of the policeman. 

“Forgive me for speaking so freely. I know what it’s like to talk to someone on the phone, to say see you later, knowing that it might be the last thing you say to them. Guarding your words so you won’t sound bitter, won’t drive him away, when all you want to do is shake some sense into him, scream at him, lock him up until you can make him right.”

“Ah.” Mycroft leans back. “Your own brother.”

Lestrade smiles. “Five years younger than me, baby of the family. Our parents worked hard, and we did all right. All of us but Andy. I don’t know why. He was bright enough to do anything, be anything. We loved him, but something made him feel unloveable. It was never enough.”

“I’m sorry.” There really isn’t anything else to say when someone admits something so personal. This conversation is far more personal than he wants it to be. 

“I always take an interest in the addicts because of Andy. Maybe I can figure it out, save someone when I couldn’t do anything for him. Last time Sherlock and I spoke, I made him an offer, said I’d be willing to talk to him about homicide cases I’m working on, if he stays clean. He seemed to like that idea, said he might be a ‘consulting detective,’ the one I come to when I’m in over my head.”

Mycroft shakes his head slightly. “Sherlock is meant for something greater than police work, Mr Lestrade. I’m afraid you’ll find he quickly loses interest.”

“I don’t know, Mr Holmes. What police do matters. I’m not suggesting that Sherlock would make a good policeman. I saw a spark in him, though, one I hadn’t seen the other times we talked. Even if solving a crime is just an intellectual exercise to him, it might be the thing that keeps him from needing his next dose. That’s how you solve addiction, I think, one dose at a time.”

“That’s very simplistic.” Mycroft frowns now. “Believe me, I understand what rehab entails. And I know the success rates of most programmes.”

“True, there are a lot of failures. I don’t mean to suggest that I can cure him. You can’t cure an addict. But you can give them something else, something that absorbs them, even for a while. And maybe over time they’ll learn that there is something they want more than drugs.”

“You’re asking my permission,” Mycroft says. “I give it to you with conditions. First, you must not let him in simply to let him down. If you invite him to solve things, you will need to keep giving him things to solve. I’m not sure that’s feasible, but it is my condition. Do not treat him like a hobby.”

“I wouldn’t.” Lestrade looks at him solemnly. “I’m doing this because I think I can help him, and it would go against everything in me not to try.”

“I have another condition. You must check in with me and let me know if you see him slipping. Sherlock doesn’t see me often, doesn’t answer my calls. As I’ve said, he resents my efforts to help. You will recognise the signs. If he’s doing poorly, I want to know. I don’t care about confidences and trust between you and my brother. I must know if he is in danger.”

“I’m willing to do that.”

“Even if it involves lying to him?”

This gives the detective pause. “I want him to trust me, and lying to him would break that. I don’t want him to think I’m working for you. At the same time, I won’t pass along anything you say to me; our conversations will remain confidential.”

“In addition.” He sighs. “I am appalled that I must say this, but I would be remiss not to mention it. Do not use my brother. People have used him before, taken advantage of him. I’m not suggesting that you are the type of person who would do that. I don’t know you, Detective Inspector Lestrade. But if I ever learn that you have done such a thing—” He breaks off, giving him the humourless smile that explains more than words. “It would be very unfortunate.”

“Of course.” Lestrade looks sad. “I would never.”

“Very well, then.” 

He extends his hand. Lestrade takes it, gives it one shake, and nods. “You’ll be hearing from me.”

---

Shoutouts to everyone who is writing these! I'm so impressed 💕 Please keep writing your mini-epics, fluffy/angsty one-shots, hilarious AUs, limericks, and whatever else your brain comes up with. Please do tag people, and if you're posting on AO3 as well, consider adding to my MayPrompts2024 Collection. Much love to you all 💕

[mewguca]

I was thinking about how people should talk more about the parallels between hunter and moon

This is a rather self-indulgent piece...I find it very comforting to be able to express my emotions through a media I love like this...that's probably my favorite thing about art. Being able to express something...being able to connect emotionally with the viewer...is really nice

textless versions and a long rambling under the cut

Hunter is often viewed as a very strong and agile slugcat...they are the "hard mode" after all. Hunter probably has a lot of physical prowess. But, with the rot...they become weaker. At its worst, they struggle to do basic movements...until they eventually die. Of course, in my version of events...Hunter's rot is cured, but it still leaves lasting side-effects. Their scars go beyond simple battle wounds...there's a sort of pervasive sickliness throughout their whole body. Treatment helps, of course...but

You know how that is, right...? You have to keep getting treatments. You have to work for your recovery. And you have to work to prevent your body from getting weaker again...Or y'know, that's how it is if you've ever had any reoccurring or chronic health issues. It's...a struggle I feel like doesn't get expressed very often...so I wanted to express it through my version of Hunter.

Even though Moon isn't anywhere near as organic, I feel like she can relate to similar struggles. She used to be like a god...a powerful supercomputer who could do just about anything! But...she couldn't bring herself to do the one thing that'd preserve her own wellbeing. She delays and delays on forcing Pebbles to stop with her administrative powers until it is far too late...

Maybe she thought she could handle it. That everything would be fine if she just waited for Pebbles to understand...or waited for him to stop. If she just kept sending messages, eventually he would listen.

But he didn't. Things didn't get better. And by the time she finally took action against it, it was too late...her forced communications did nothing but make her brother furious with her...because she "ruined everything." She could only accept her imminent collapse...

When she woke up again, she had only a few neurons left to run on. Her umbilical was broken, her overseers were out of her control, and even the roof over her head was incomplete.

She couldn't do most of the things she used to. She could hardly move. She could hardly even think. She could barely remember who or what she used to be...and she didn't have great ability to remember the present, either.

It must have been really painful...but she keeps doing what she can anyways. She reads the pearls you bring her. She tells you about the items you bring. She gives you information as best as she can. She is kind and hospitable. She encourages you. She could be so bitter and depressed...so resentful and cruel...but she isn't. I'm sure she has plenty of bitterness and resentment, plenty of hopelessness and great sadness, plenty of suffering...

But when she sees the little slugcat, she's still kind to it. She is grateful for what she has. She is happy to see you. And she keeps on living.

She's so strong...she is a huge inspiration for me.

So, I think if anyone could relate to Hunter's struggle...Moon is probably the closest. I think people should talk about their relationship more...after all, Hunter is her "little savior." I think they would be wonderfully close. They could support each other in their struggles to keep living, even if their bodies fight against them. I also think their friendship is just cute! Great potential for angst, for fluff, for comfort...idk. everything, really. It would be wonderful for them to reunite when they're both in better shape...as creatives, we can make a versions of events where that happens. It's really wonderful to me...for a work of art to inspire others to create art because of it.

This game means a lot to me...and it means a lot to me that it resonates so much with other people as well. So, thank you...

[itsgrimeytime]

Maneater (Part One) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Dialogue Prompts: "Don’t play friendly with me." + "Try me."

Summary: You and Rick Grimes had a backstory, one no one knew except you and him. It's one you refused to share, you never really wanted to get into it. All anyone needed to know was you hated the man. When you're in a rough spot, and you could use the shelter the question is... does he hate you?

TWS: Blood, gore, mentions of death, gun violence (just violence in general), swearing, angst, a touch of abandonment, grudges, and all things typical of TWD.

[[A/N: y'all ever heard of TENSION?? Or enemies to lovers??? Because I'll tell you what, I have :))) Lowkey, you have a good reason to hate Rick, but like... you'll see. also I am living in delusion for what Rick looked like in the Alexandria timeline, so just know I picture the gif, okay? Thx <3 ]]

Before you go thinking this is another long series, this is just a two/maybe three-parter. There was more to this idea than what I felt I could naturally convey in one one-shot. So, let me know if you want to be tagged for the continuation.

"Shit."

This really, truly, was never supposed to happen. This was the worst-case scenario, the kind of thing that plagued your dreams with things that were so not probable they shouldn't be scary. And yet here you were, in nightmare territory.

"Y/N? Really, is that- is that you?" the familiar face spoke -Glenn, you realized now.

God, it had been so long, you'd thought for sure at least half of that group had vanished.

Well, maybe they had. You weren't exactly sure, but Glenn hadn't really looked worse for wear. He suited the lifestyle well, actually, which you were a little impressed by -the pizza delivery guy had come a long way.

"We thought you..." he faltered off, still a bit in disbelief.

"Died? Nope," you finished, bitter, sure, but you'd never really had the chance to get over it, "-despite your wonderful leader's best efforts, I remain unscathed."

Glenn frowned.

The joy from moments before dissipated in the now fairly tense air between the two of you -others you recognized weren't there, but you imagined they were wherever he came from. Which you were currently trying to keep in the very back of your mind -you'd never follow him to them, you just couldn't.

"I should've..." he began, words seeming to come to a stop, "-Any of us should've stuck up for you. It wasn't right."

There was a bit of pleasure hearing that, somewhere deep in your chest, you appreciated it. But while the idea was good, it was very much too late. The resentment that had developed in your chest, had only solidified there -unbreakable and set in stone. You hadn't trusted a soul since, not fully anyway.

This world was filled with broken hearts, and yours was one of them.

And that was something Rick and his group had to live with, whoever they were now because that... was their fault.

You hadn't meant to hate Rick Grimes specifically, above everyone else, but the words came out of his mouth.

'Get out of here, we can't... we can't have a group this divided.'

You could still see him now in your head, clean-shaven and dressed in his uniform, taking the world by storm despite not knowing what the fuck he was doing. You were different then, scared but ready to do what you needed -hell, the first time you'd ever even held a gun was against a walker. It was with that group, they'd taught you.

You swallowed down the bile in your throat, and pushed through the rubble -your feet ached from being on the move for so long. You couldn't remember the last time you slept, or even sat down.

You couldn't not in this world, it was all about motion, about survival, about getting through the next few hours at a time.

"Look, I know you're upset, and you have every right to be," Glenn began -following you close behind, "-but we have a place... It's safe, you could sleep. You could eat. There are houses, hot water-"

You froze in place, the idea spreading a sort of warmth in your chest, something you'd forgotten somewhere along the path. Hope. Yet, there was still a sting there -deep under your skin, "Glenn-"

"It doesn't have to be forever," he added, and now that you looked at him, he did seem clean -his clothes washed and the desperation that dusted your skin was so distant you could hardly see it, "-just for a few days."

Feet frozen to the spot, you exhaled -the breath shaking you to the root, it had been so long, but how could you trust him? How could you trust any of them?

You remembered Glenn had looked hesitant, that day, his own suspicion drawn in his eyebrows but it hadn't gone farther than that. He hadn't said a word. No one had. But now, he was here offering solace, safety. And you knew it wasn't just out of pity.

The world had enough of that on its own. You had enough of that on your own, your story spilling to listening ears -they'd all been the same. Still, you could use a break.

And as much as you didn't trust the group, whatever it had become, you knew that if anyone had survived this long -they'd been skilled. Skilled enough for you to breathe, for you to close your eyes and sleep.

You sighed, wiping the sleep from your eyes, or rather the lack of, "Just a few days?"

"As long as you need," Glenn reiterated, somehow conveying that you never had to leave, it was a small thing. But comforting.

"I get to decide when to leave?"

Glenn frowned, his own body almost shrinking in on itself, disappointment. You'd never thought you'd see this, someone from so long ago -the regret, the remorse, "Yeah, of course."

And you were thinking about it. As your joints ached and your throat burned for water, the breeze felt cold against your bones, and you truly couldn't imagine it getting any warmer. The sun setting only meant it could get colder, and you were currently without a roof.

"Okay," you quietly agreed, despite the churning in your stomach saying otherwise.

That was when one of the others, neither of which you knew, spoke, "But, didn't Rick say-"

"Shut it," Glenn exhaled, tone icy and you suddenly realized maybe they were new to him too.

The walk was long, not grueling since Glenn had known exactly where he was going -he'd always had that sense of direction though. You remembered the early days when he'd been the one to volunteer to go back to the city, he'd known so much. Maybe he was just made that way? Or it was some sort of thing they'd invented. It had been a long time.

"There's a few of us that'll be happy to see you," Glenn spoke, casually walking beside you as the other two paired off behind you.

You swallowed the tensing of your shoulders, the last time you'd been in a group it hadn't ended well, and every time before that too actually. You didn't meld well with groups, let's just say that.

"I don't think so," you hummed, remembering so far back in your brain that day -the eyes all set on you, strong and decisive. You couldn't imagine who else survived other than Rick Grimes himself. Because this world wasn't what you expected, you shouldn't have survived more that a week... but here you were.

Glenn didn't say anything else, you assumed he noticed your more pressed tone -as the opposite of an invitation to keep talking. It stung a bit, watching the man's face solemn considerably, but there was also a sick part of your brain that had been waiting for this day.

As you approached the new community, Glenn spread out his hands -with a voice close to an announcer, "Welcome to Alexandria!"

Alexandria was big, bigger than you thought really. When you pictured the homes, there was bordered up windows and broken glass -blood stained into the wood. But these?

They were almost pristine.

Your head spun as you made your way through the gate, Glenn casually guiding you through the space without much forethought. It seemed he'd known this daze, he'd experienced it himself, maybe?

You knew how this world was, Alexandria seemed to be a new wave of something fresh.

Actually, you'd seen signs once or twice but never pursued it. Things like that didn't quite work in this world, you were scared of what it may truly have been. But Glenn had brought you hear with the promise of a bed to sleep in, so you assumed whatever kinks were there had already been worked out.

Or maybe you hoped they would.

In your haze, you hadn't noticed the two other members bump ahead -headed straight for a particular place, you assumed. Nor did you really notice Glenn kind of easily navigating in front of you.

Until, you heard the voice you'd vowed to never hear until the day you died.

"Glenn?" the drawl was deeper now, older and a touch more dangerous, "-The others told me you brought someone back, I thought we talked about-"

"Rick," Glenn interrupted, voice steady and calm -he had been prepared for this, "-it's Y/N."

There was silence there, as you trailed your fingers along the trim of the house ever-so-gently -the dirt stained into your fingertips didn't need to smudge there. It would've ruined it.

"What?" His voice was low, and despite how much you wished you could understand the tone, you couldn't -you didn't know him.

He could be angry, in disbelief, in shock. You had no clue, instead focusing on the ivy running up the sides of some of the houses -rubbing the leaves with your thumb, muttering, "Wow."

"Y/N?"

You blinked out of your haze, stilling at the direct contact with you -it felt odd, hearing your name out of his mouth. So familiar yet, so so far off. Yet, the sting still burned deep under your skin -it would probably never go away.

Without turning around, you acknowledged him simply -direct and without much other force, "Rick."

Then the space grew even quieter, the tension laying thick into the air -you could feel it set the prickling of goosebumps on your skin.

With a heavy breath, you turned around -equipped to set your eyes on his skin.

He looked... different. His hair was much longer, curled at the nape of his neck, and he had a beard -now littered with grey. It suited him, he'd been too uptight back then, now though, he'd seemed more adjusted.

"Y/N, I-" he began, and you could hear it -the pity, the 'I'm sorry'. You couldn't take it, not from him. Not now.

It was too late, it made you want to rip your hair out. And thrash and cry and scream. Scream for all you'd lost, scream for the fear you felt that day, pushed into the woods -separated.

You spoke, pushing back the bite in your tone as much as you could, "Don't play friendly with me. I'm here for a few days, at most."

Rick's mouth snapped shut, jaw setting. He seemed frustrated, but that was hardly your problem, the whole thing was his really. He could die with that regret, aching to give an apology for his wrongdoings... and you would let him.

The area, which you now realized was slowly filtering people in, eyes all beginning to focus on you and Rick. Questioning, mostly, but you figured any pushback on Rick and you'd end up dead. So, you pushed back -the strength of your tone settling and the brush of the cold warming.

You didn't need to make enemies.

And then you heard it, a familiar voice, older than you'd expected, you'd known that voice younger... what was-

"Y/N?"

Your breath stuttered, as you spun on your feet and there he was, taller and older, "Carl? Oh my god-"

You hadn't even thought about it, that where Rick was Carl would follow. You had less than high hopes that he'd even survive this far, and yet, here he was right in front of you.

You'd known Carl early on in the group, he had been so young. Lori needed help sometimes, and she'd grown close to you, so, pretty quickly, she'd trusted you with him. In the early days, he was stuck to your side -playing games with the sticks and rocks you could find nearby, giving him comfort when his Mom seemed too far to touch -she was often like that. Her eyes were far, and her mind farther.

Without much less of an introduction, he ran to you with ease, despite the filth you must've been covered in. Especially compared to him, who seemed to be as perfectly clean as the rest of them. He ran into you, arms wrapping tight around your figure -and god, he was so much taller. You bit back a sob, how much had you missed?

"I thought you were dead," he spoke, muttering into your shoulder and his hands gripping desperately at your shirt.

You remembered the tiny version of him kicking and screaming, 'Why do they have to leave, Dad?!' He had been crying so hard his body was shaking, they practically had to tear him off you. You'd told them you'd leave in the night when he was sleeping, so it wouldn't be so hard on him. He couldn't put up as much of a fight if he wasn't there.

"You've gotten so tall," you laughed, pulling back and wiping at your eyes -gesturing to his stature.

Carl laughed too, wiping away his own tears.

You forgot for a second where you were, and how long it had been. Only reuniting with someone you cared tremendously about. The moment was bittersweet with the eyes of many sliding across your figure, the scar detailed across your arm, or maybe the bandage wrapped around your head. You'd had some run-ins, but you'd taken care of them with what you could.

The next few days were a bit stuffy, the doctor (who you didn't bother to learn the name of) had been keeping a close eye on you -consistently telling you to rest and sticking the one and only sheriff on you when you resisted.

Apparently, she thought that it was the best idea.

The single thread that didn't have you running out of this place wore a sheriff's hat and seemed to relish in your arrival. Carl had been by your side frequently, introducing you to practically everyone (including Glenn's wife, Maggie, what-) -which you had originally been strictly against, but the kid was your soft spot.

You'd felt more at ease after a run-in with two familiar faces, Daryl and Carol. They both did similarly to Carl, and you couldn't seem to fault them too much. Not at that moment anyway. It was midday and Carl had run off with some people his own age, which you refused to separate him from that. It was important, he needed it.

And you needed something too.

The space felt cramped, with someone constantly looking over your shoulder and someone else always in your area. It was a far cry from your previous loner life where your days fell to silence and the slice of whatever your blade was echoed through it. Before Glenn, you hadn't spoken out loud in months.

So, with new energy from the hot water and regular meals, you'd found yourself roaming the streets towards the fence. Just for a sense of normalcy, you needed to taste the adrenaline, feel the blade in your hands, and the urgency in your movements. Dancing with death.

Trying to watch your back, you kept your eyes behind you -ducking behind some of the unused houses that you'd scouted out earlier in the day. It wasn't like you were leaving forever, just a few hours that's all you needed.

"And where are you going?"

You jumped, turning to the sound in front of you, and because god simply hated you it happened to belong to one Rick Grimes. His eyes leveled with you, standing confidently in your way like he'd expected you. And shit, maybe he had.

Stammering, you regained your composure, "Where's Carl?"

"Asleep," he responded with ease.

"Look, I'm not-" you groaned, "-Why are you keeping me here like a prisoner?"

"Doctor told me to keep an eye on ya," he answered, once again too prepared, it infuriated you to no bounds, "-you don't think I'd notice you scopin' out an exit?"

"That's not-" you straightened your posture, pressing your lips into a thin line, "I don't have to explain myself to you. So, kindly, if you would get out of my way, I'll be back in an hour."

Rick chuckled, not in a really joyful way either, neither of you was quite joking, "Yeah, not happenin'."

"Rick," you echoed, tone ice and hand tightening on where your blade rested on your hip -a handmade hilt someone had made you a long time ago, "-move, or I'll make you."

He paused, licking a line across his teeth, and slowly making his way into your space. Your breath caught in your throat, but you stayed strong in your place -eyes set on his and shoulders set in place. He didn't speak until his face was right in yours, a breath away, and his expression remained unchanged -his eyes only betraying the heaviness of his words, "Try me."

Rick didn't reach for his gun, which sat with was at his hip -inches from his hands. You knew he wouldn't pull it on you, it wasn't in his character, but there was a chill in his tone -something new.

What happened to him?

You washed out the worry that settled under your skin for a second, that didn't need to be there. He'd abandoned you -they all had.

Setting your jaw, you exhaled -pulling back and letting your hand fall to your side, "Look, I just need an hour."

Rick stared at you, you couldn't read him -years of age, and most likely tragedy by the missing faces, gracing features you once knew. And even then, he was new -you hadn't known him.

"This place is-" you faltered off, looking back to the houses, where most lights were switched off in the dark -except for just a few spare ones, "-suffocating. I've been on my own for so long, I feel like I'm having an out-of-body fucking experience here. This isn't... I need something familiar."

He still hadn't said a word.

"So," you began, strong, before deflating, "-just let me kill some of the dead, yeah?"

Rick pursed his lips, before sighing deep and heavily, "Okay."

You opened your mouth to rebuttal, before the words set in, "Okay?"

"Just let me tell Michonne and Daryl I won't be around for a bit," he continued, seeming to waltz on past you, and then those words hit you.

"Rick, I don't need a babysitter," you answered, that lick of bitterness slinking through your skin again -your mouth opened before you could stop it, "-you weren't worried years ago, were you? Why now?"

He stopped in his motion, frozen solid by your words. A part of you felt vindicated, he deserved it -it may have been years for him, but that was the way your way in this world had started.

You hadn't expected him to speak, but he did.

"You can't do that."

A flash of frustration hummed under your skin -burning hot and bright -who was he to say anything to you, "I can't do that? Do what? Talk about what you did to me? The day you kicked me to the curb at the beginning of the fucking apocalypse...?"

"I've been tryin' to apologize since you got here-" he started, tone angry in the way of hands shaking not voice raising, "-you won't let me."

Something in you snapped.

"So what?" you started, tone shaky and you'd say it was for rage but you could feel the tears burning behind your eyes, "You think I want an apology from you?"

Rick looked lost then, and something in you begged to keep going. The dam was cracked now, and the water could flood out -who better than the man who hit the nail in the coffin, "What...?"

"You, you don't get the resolution that would get you. You don't get to sleep well at night because you said sorry, no."

He didn't speak.

You laughed, the tears were free now, years of being locked behind something as thick as the shell you wore after that day -your breaths were ragged and you felt like maybe your heart would be out of your chest, "I never wanted to live through this."

"Y/N-"

And there was something there in those words, heavy and gravelly against the cool night air. But you couldn't dwell on it. You had too much to say to him, to all of them really, but just him would do.

"No," you exhaled, taking a deep shaky breath in, "-Rick, I just need to know one thing."

He opened his mouth, assumedly to answer your question, but you still couldn't let him speak. Your brain was going so fast, you had to keep up.

"Did you ever ask them why?"

Rick spoke then, slowly, "Who?"

"Shane," you spoke, the air seemed to get heavier, "-and Lori. Did it never seem odd to you that it came out at the same time? That they'd both seen me that exact same day?"

Rick stilled, and his jaw seemed to set.

That was what had gotten you kicked out, Shane and Lori had alleged you'd taken more supplies for yourself -stolen from everyone. You weren't sure of the specifics, whether it be an extra graham cracker or a tissue to wipe your busted lip, as you didn't let them get too far into it. They'd been egging him on, Shane on some sort of masculine level and Lori using their love as a pawn -you'd seen it clear as day. Rick hadn't.

"I was going to tell you," you spoke quietly, barely a brush over the wind of the chillier nights.

He didn't have to ask what. He knew you assumed he had known pretty much immediately after you noticed their absences. Something had happened, maybe not long after you'd left. You could only assume so much.

"I didn't know," he echoed out, his voice strained in a way you'd never heard from him -pained, regretful.

Without much else, you turned back the way you came -voice steady and strong across the space between you two, "I know."

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Four

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors note: I’m here:) finally. It’s been a while, idk how long, not that long but long enough i guess, sorry for the wait! This one is wordy but also has a lot going on, so hope you enjoy!

Ngl, this can probably be read as a standalone if anyone’s seeing this and not started the series, it’s just a bit angsty and mostly smut? But unsure, I said probably! X

Warnings: Arguing, usual Matty and Mouse thinking (feels like it needs its own warning at this point, they’re saddos), smut, unprotected sex, EMOTIONS (because yeah)

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

There was something raw in the bitterness that was love. Like the sour skin of an apple that was first thought to be sweet. Love was deceiving in itself really, but it was never alone. It brought life and light. It wrought anger. It stirred both jealousy and pity. It gave and gave, until all you were left with was that tart tang aftertaste. 

Some people revelled in it.

Others, withered away.

Years before, perhaps maybe not even that long ago now, Matty would have belonged to the former. He had enjoyed the strings he found that could tie him to people, sex and money had given him the ability to do it, to keep them there, to pull them alongside him. And he’d indulged in it all, beyond what most would consider extortionate. 

And still, even after everything, when the fun had ended and the games had been discarded, and he’d just been tossed off somewhere to the side… Alone once more. He had continued on. On and on and on, until he ultimately had lost himself completely.

The last few months had shifted something in him though.

And now here he was, still angry and bitter and resentful. But full of actual love. The raw type. The kind that left you marvelling at the most stupid things— insipid little concepts that held no actual value or any real detail worth getting all starry-eyed over.

It had wormed its way into the hollow shell that was his heart and rebuilt some part of him that he believed he had long since destroyed.

He wanted to scoff at the very thought. The very idea that an emotion could be felt so strongly that it differed the world around you; that, singularly, it could change you. The notion was far too complex, too out there to even begin to fathom, but then again, Matty supposed that emotions were exactly that. Complex.

It sent his mind reeling. Had his entire body aching with a fever to expel the feeling completely, if only so that he could think freely again, so it wouldn’t hurt to merely breathe anymore.

You should have told me.

He knew that. He had admitted as much.

And yet, he still hadn’t told her.

He’d lied.

Why didn’t you tell me?

And that was the question, wasn’t it? Why hadn’t he just told her?

Fear, he guessed.

Yet another morbid emotion in which Matty had always been so wary of. Another lost feeling he thought he’d swallowed whole and hidden somewhere deep down. Because there was no fear in a drug induced haze. When you were off partying or chasing some other euphoric high. What the fuck was there to be fearful of? When the chilling buzz which shook you to your very core blanketed over everything else.

When there was always that silence.

That numb quiet he had chased and craved and cherished.

Though, he supposed, it was nothing compared to the fear of losing this.

Of losing her.

Still, Matty could not for the life of him find it in himself to tell her exactly that. Those words lost on him, lodged in the column of his throat and etching themselves a home there.

“Where do we go from here?”

He blinked at the sound of his own voice, looking up at her shadowed expression and at how tired she then seemed. How different she now looked compared to the moment they’d first met. 

She’d been something of a presence even then. Always effortlessly complex. With her soft smile and guarded eyes. Eyes he’d gone and fucking wondered about for hours on end.

Those eyes which were now caught on the far wall stood opposite, the one lined with coloured photo frames and that odd little doodle Teddy had gotten in trouble for only a couple of weeks prior. 

The realisation made Matty mourn the few days they’d spent apart.

After a long moment, she finally shrugged at him and he found himself swallowing tightly at the movement. Startled by her seeming lack of care. 

“I don’t want to lose you, Squeaks.” 

It was honest. As honest as he could be.

She huffed an amused breath in return though, “Not like you’re short on company, Matty.”

He felt his gaze snap up to meet hers then, head shifting with it. 

“What’s that even meant to mean?” He asked her, frowning now, at the way she had crossed her arms over her chest and how her shoulders had hunched on their own accord whilst she casually moved to glance out the window. Matty forced himself up onto his feet, hating the fact she had turned away from him.

“I saw everything, Matty.” Mouse replied tiredly, as though she was fed up, fed up with this, with them. “I saw the articles.”

Matty’s stomach bottomed out at her words, he stepped towards her. “Nothing happened.” He murmured, taking another step closer. “Nothing fucking happened, Squeaks. I swear it.”

She tensed but didn’t quite flinch at his sudden approach, so he kept a little distance between them, even as desperate as he was to hold her. To shake her enough so that she would see sense, that she’d realise how stupid he would have had to have been to have gone near anyone else. That girl was no one, she’d meant nothing. 

“You can swear that, can you?” She mocked him, one corner of her mouth toying with a merciless smile that didn’t quite suit her. “You were gone, Matty. Fucking out of it. That much was clear to see just from the photos alone.”

Matty stared at her helplessly.

She shook her head.

“I’d had a couple drinks. That isn’t a crime!” He stressed, automatically falling onto the defensive, “Didn’t mean I was stupid enough to get with the first person I fucking saw! That girl- she was off her head too. Had mates with her even! But she was just trying to help me, Mouse. That’s all it was.” 

She was shaking her head again now, tongue catching on her incisor; a dead giveaway to how stressed she was, how anxious she was getting. Matty only wished to shoulder it all, that defensiveness of his faltering slightly at the sight of her trying to hide it all. To stay strong. How fucking long had she had to do that?

“I feel like such a fool, Matty.” She finally spoke, her voice trembling with the onslaught of tears that glazed her eyes but she didn’t dare let fall. “A fucking fool. ‘Cause I’d thought that things were okay, that we were okay. That I could finally relax and let you in. But then-“ She paused, a sad huff leaving her, “Then you went and dropped this mess in my lap and somehow expected me to just deal with it. To tell you it’s all fine. That we could make it right.”

Mouse turned then, ever so slowly, looking about as defeated as Matty had ever seen her. He felt his chest burn with the last breath he hadn’t remembered taking let alone hold onto, too afraid to look away, to even move. 

“But you embarrassed me. You’ve made the whole world believe I am that fool. That I was as naive as they’d first made me out to be. As my friends thought me to be.” 

Her smile was shattered and broken, her voice wet and hoarse, but she continued on even as her hands fell limply to her sides and she took a single step closer.

“And to make things worse, you didn’t just hurt me, Matty. You hurt Teddy too.”

–

Hit them where it hurts.

That was the saying, wasn’t it?

But it only left me feeling all the more sour- gutless. As well as a little stupid, I supposed, wondering if Matty even cared for Teddy at all, or how he had felt the last couple days.

Though I shouldn’t have second guessed it, not when the way Matty’s face immediately paled and then fell proved me wrong. 

Deep down, I knew that he cared. In his own odd way he had always cared. But to know it and to see it were two entirely different things.

And although it was true, that Matty had in fact hurt Teddy. It still felt like a shitty thing to say to him then. But he’d hurt me as well, hadn’t he. And even though I’d been hurting most of my life, Matty being the reason for all that hurt pained me in a way I couldn’t even comprehend. 

“I didn’t-”

I scoffed at his attempted reply, but my heart wasn’t in it, breaking all over again. I wondered how long we could drag this out. If we even would.

“Mean to?” I finished for him, shaking my head stupidly. “I know you didn’t mean to, Matty. Doesn’t change the fact that you still did it.”

His eyes slipped closed just as his lips fell apart, and when he opened them again I was stuck staring into his devastated gaze. 

“If I could take it all back, I would.” He breathed, “I promise you I would.”

I swallowed back my own tears, even as they burned and pricked at my throat and eyes. “But you can’t.”

And it was as simple as that, wasn’t it? He couldn’t ever take it back. 

I don’t want to lose you.

He knew just how to get under my skin, past all that rusted armour of mine.

It was what made this all so much harder. 

“Tell me what to do, Squeaks.” Matty croaked pleadingly, hand reaching out towards me before he looked down at it, blinked, and then let it fall. “I’ll do it, just– tell me.”

What was left that he could do? When it felt like things had so suddenly and so horrifically fallen out from under us.

“I don't know.” I told him honestly, in a barely there whisper, “I just don't know, Matty.”

He stepped even closer then, hand moving to capture my jaw in a determined haste, not restraining himself like he had just moments before. I tried to pull away, titling my chin and looking off to the side as I clenched my teeth, but his thumb was there, luring me back in, forcing me to meet his eye.

“I’m not just gonna give up.” His other hand jumped to cradle my face, a cushion to those heated words. 

I was reluctant in my needless wanting, desperate to be held whilst simultaneously wanting to push him away. So I lifted my hands up to cover his own, unsure of the choice they’d make. To stay, or go.

“It’s not about that, Matty.” I heard myself say pathetically, voice wavering with each word, “You can’t just forget this.”

His dark eyes were trained on me, flickering over every square inch of my scarred face. I’d never felt insecure about them when I was around him, but this moment felt too heated, too high strung. And I’d been burning the candle at both ends the last few days, so with him being this close, this intense, every emotion I’d felt was brimming closer and closer to the surface. 

Instead of facing him, I turned away, hiding once more as I worked my jaw and felt my hands slip down to the backs of his forearms.

A shared breath and then,

“Don’t do that.” Matty whispered in the quiet, almost begging. “Don’t hide from me.”

His thumb smoothed over the skin of my cheek and I was all but putty in hands, looking back at him just as a tear escaped me and slid to meet the pad of it. 

Matty brushed the tear away without thought, before he leant in to rest his forehead against my own. The action forced me to cling tighter to his arms, eyes closing to keep from embarrassing myself any further. I wouldn’t cry. 

I wouldn’t cry.

“Look at me.” He demanded, nose so close that I could practically sense its phantom touch. And foolishly, I did as he asked. “You-” His breath stuttered as his eyes pleaded with me, sounding forced as it broke free from him, his fingers making a home for themselves in my hair. 

“You don’t know what you do to me. How much of a mess I’ve made of myself. How much I have missed you.” Matty confessed, his voice quiet in the small space shared between us, in a place where we were both sheltered and unseen. “And I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry. Enough that I’ll keep on repeating it until you fucking believe me. Enough that I’d do just about anything for you to see how much I want this.”

He sucked in a breath, and I blinked back at him, lips tingling with the sensation of his proximity. 

“I know I messed up. I know.” He repeated, eyes flickering back and forth between my own whilst his thumbs trailed the line of my hair. “But all I’m asking for is a chance to make it right. To be better. Squeaks, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat if I could.”

His breath was tickling the skin of my cheek as well as the corner of my mouth, it almost made it difficult to think let alone remember how to breathe. I wanted–

Suddenly my eyes were looking down, focused on his parted mouth, on the stubble he’d let grow across the cut of his chin as well as his upper lip. His nose finally brushed past my own, touching ever so carefully as one or both of us pressed nearer, almost there, inching closer but not close enough.

“Tell me no.” 

Instantly, I was thrown back to that first night he kissed me. I hadn’t told him no then, and for some reason I couldn’t find it in me to decline him now. 

So instead I took, all but biting as my hand cradled the back of his neck and closed that short amount of distance between us. My nails dug into the exposed skin of his nape, where the collar of his shirt jumped with each move he made. My teeth nipped at his lower lip, angry in my attempt to swallow him whole, teeth clashing as we both stumbled, moving and moving until Matty’s back hit the nearest wall.

How the roles had reversed, I thought to myself as Matty’s shoulders flexed beneath his shirt and jumped under my ever roaming hands. I hated the desire that it stirred through me, knowing how easily he could take back control with his carefully contained strength. But he didn’t, instead he gave my fury something to latch onto.

My hand lifted to pin one of his wrists somewhere to the left of his head, glare not wavering even as his stubborn gaze met my own. He was as riled up as me.

“You have some nerve.” I all but spat, watching on as his chest rose and fell, questioning how quickly everything had switched.

“Yeah?” Matty bit back, those familiar brown eyes- a colour that had always brought me comfort- were blazing now as they trailed over the flush that I was sure lined my face. “Why’s that? You’re the one with me pinned, darlin’.” 

His heavy gaze traced the bow of my lip, slumping ever slightly in his stance so that his head could fall closer forward. My breath hitched.

That was all he needed apparently, to earn the upper hand here. Because in a moment, the room was spinning and then I was the one being crowded against the wall, fury be damned.

Contrary to my previous endeavour, Matty’s touch was still as careful as ever, making it that much more obvious that I could slip away if I so wanted. But the question was whether or not I did.

“Matty–”

But he just carried on, as though he hadn’t even heard me speak, voice a low breathy murmur. 

“I’ve been stuck in this endless loop. Driving myself mad.” He told me, his knee angled enough so that he could let his head dip towards the juncture of my neck, his mouth pausing by the shell of my ear whilst a finger gently trailed its way up over my hip. “Wonderin’ if I’d lost this for good.”

My heart pounded in my chest as the ghost of his words tickled my skin, tensing when his nose ever so slightly grazed my jaw. 

That finger of his continued to move, working its way up my torso, jumping across my ribs and up to the bone of my collar. My gaze was fixed on the opposing wall, on the mirror that framed my dazed face and the back of his head. My hand worked its way into his unruly curls.

“But you’re as stubborn as me, see.” Matty added, luring me in, “And I’m not the type to give up on a sure thing.” His words held enough bite that I snapped back to meet his stare, he tilted his head at me whilst I scowled.

“Excuse me?”

Matty smiled, lids heavy as his careful hand danced its way back down my front. 

“And this,” He said, almost in a whisper, ignoring my retort as he hooked my leg around his waist, “This is a sure thing.”

A soft breath escaped me even as I batted his hand away, but he simply reached up to grip at my chin, touch tender even with the way his calloused thumb dragged down my lower lip.

I was slowly beginning to imagine that this was all a dream, something my sick mind had gone and conjured up in hopes to ignore all of the hurt he had put me through. Because this couldn’t be right, things couldn’t have fallen back into place this easily. 

“Matty.” I tried again, firmer this time, but was captured by the look his eyes held, probably having understood the expression that must have just crossed my face.

“What did you do, Squeaks?” He asked me almost hurriedly, shaking my chin between his forefinger and thumb, my previous anger and doubt melting slightly as I leaned further into his touch. “Did you want me to hurt, too?”

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question, his swift change in topic. Baffled by the fact that he was now trying to pin this back on me. 

Was that really what this was? I wanted to ask.

Matty didn’t give me the opportunity to say a thing though. My surprise had stalled me briefly, but it had evidently been long enough to allow him to simply carry on.

“What did you do, eh? Tell me.” He breathed before he pressed his mouth to my jaw, once and then twice, pulling away just as I tilted my head to accommodate him, “Did you go out, baby? Find somebody else? Or did you just stay here, waiting for me?”

I reeled back, anger spiking again. “Fuck you.”

Matty’s eyes flickered back and forth between mine. 

“I’m trying to get you to.” He said, always so brazen and snarky, even in the moments where I hated him most. The hand I had previously slapped away went back to the leg he still had draped over his hip, snaking up over my knee and to my thigh. 

My glare didn’t waiver, even as my breathing picked up at the pressure his fingertips wrought on my skin. 

“Tell me no.” He finally repeated, eyes failing to meet mine. And how was I supposed to? When having him this close brought back that fire he’d put out in me, when he was kissing my neck so sweetly?

“We’ll regret it.” It was as close to a no as I could get, enough to have him pause. Matty looked to me then, his hold loosening on my body but still holding. Hoping.

“Do you care?”

I marvelled at the question, did I care?

I cared so much it pained me.

But he hadn’t meant it like that. That much I knew.

Do you care if you regret it? Because, what if you don’t? 

With Matty there was always chance– he was the type to play the odds, to push his luck.

What if.

What if, what if, what if?

Shaking my head, I was forced to question if he understood me as much as I did him. If he could see each of my thoughts just as they dawned on me, flashing across my face like a story being told. 

Then I wondered whether or not I even wanted him to understand. This, this thing we were doing would only further complicate things between us, but perhaps this could be a goodbye.

But, if this was a goodbye, why was he looking at me like that? Watching and waiting for me to truly answer.

Tell me no, he’d said.

Matty’s gaze swept over my face, as though trying to read me, maybe in hopes to find what it was he was really searching for. 

Tell me no.

“Please.”

And my resolve broke at the word.

“Okay.” I heard myself say in reply, nodding quickly, and that was seemingly all the permission he needed before Matty was wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me towards him fully.

My hands floundered momentarily before they were back on his shoulders, his teeth nipping at my neck. 

I moaned, eyes falling shut as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses down my skin, teeth scraping before his tongue swirled to soothe their angry ambush. I could smell him everywhere now, the shampoo I was so used to stealing, as well as the only aftershave he’d ever claimed to like.

His hips rolled into mine, pressing himself right against the fabric of my trousers and the underwear which had grown damp during our heated argument. 

I didn’t want to linger too long on the thought of my body’s obvious betrayal, too caught up in him to think about how wrong this should all feel.

“Shit.” Matty groaned, breath catching with it as he continued to grind against me.

I gasped back, grabbing at him harder as he bit down on the curve of my neck. I nipped at his jaw in retaliation, nails digging into the skin of his back, hoping to leave a mark.

“I knew you’d miss me.” He grunted into the base of my throat, the hands which held my waist dipping beneath the hem of my shirt to explore further. “Even when you’re angry you’ll wait. ‘Cause no one else can touch like me.”

A whine bypassed my lips almost involuntarily as he continued to rut against me, I wanted to be angry- no, in fact, I was angry. But all emotion other than want was blurring at the edges of my mind now, being pushed further and further back by each eager kiss he peppered along my jaw.

“You really–” I jerked in surprise, cutting myself off with a short gasp when his hand slipped past the hem of my trousers, fingers pressing against the damp fabric he found there. 

“What was that?” He provoked, and I could hear the smirk in his voice as he trailed over my covered clit, causing me to whimper before I was biting down on my lower lip. Matty didn’t like that much. “Come on, I wanna hear you.” He muttered, pressing a little harder, wanting a reaction. “Tell me.”

“You’re such a bastard.” I panted, head falling against his shoulder as my hips pushed further into his touch, seeking more.

Matty laughed, all breathy and lovely, mouth catching on the lobe of my ear before he hissed, “Yeah, but you like that about me.”

His hand was gone with that and I was almost tempted to ask, to even plead with him for its return, aching all the more now, enough that all I could think about was riding his fingers until I couldn’t think at all. 

But then Matty was grabbing my waist again, his grip hard, firm, and I swallowed when he whispered into my ear once more.

“Jump.”

Without thinking, I jumped. 

We collided, his mouth on mine and the two of us moving as though it was second nature. And in a way, it was. But it shouldn’t have been. I knew that. I tried to remind myself of it. 

He shouldn’t be here.

But he was. Walking his way through my flat with ease, effortlessly missing each sharp corner and the miniscule step which led back into the hallway. He was blind, my hands in his hair as he manoeuvred us into my bedroom, throwing me down onto sheets that he’d never seen, let alone slept in. 

I tugged him down with me, his hands moving to unbutton those fucking jeans he always wore as he worked his way back into my mouth. 

He hovered over me after kicking them off, my head pressed to the pillows as his eyes roamed every inch of my face. “Beautiful.” He whispered, as though he hadn’t really meant to say the word aloud.

My breath hitched anyway but Matty paid it no mind, leaning in closer to kiss me again, slower this time around, though his hands were still quick, tugging at the hem of my top enough so that I got the hint. I lifted myself up, breaking away to take it off and toss it to the side. 

Matty kissed his way down my neck again, following the trail of scars down my torso until his fingers paused to hook around the top of my trousers. I nodded at his silent ask, planting my feet a little firmer on the mattress so that they could follow my tee.

Matty stopped then, kneeling between my parted thighs, eyes caught on the panties I was wearing, and I could swear something in his gaze shifted as he stared down at me. 

“Lace?” He murmured, fingers curling around my thighs tight enough to bruise as he pushed forward, closer to my face. “Really?”

It was a loaded question. Almost felt like an accusation.

I shrugged– I hadn’t meant to end up here, but it hadn’t been subconscious when I’d picked them out of the pile this morning. He liked the way they looked, had told me so one night spent at his when he’d talked me into smoking a couple joints with him sprawled out on his living room floor. 

I opened my mouth to reply but Matty didn’t quite catch the motion, already busying himself with the task of pulling the lace down my thighs. His fingers, calloused from years of playing guitar, dragged alongside the black material rolling down my legs. I tensed at the feeling, zeroing in on the slow motion, then listened to him groan at the sight before they were gone completely.

I watched him pull away, balling the damp fabric up in a fist before leaning over the side of the bed to drop them on top of his jeans. 

“A souvenir?” I couldn’t help but question, mostly out of mirth, but humour helped deflect from the weight I felt at having him here.

Matty hummed, fingers already back on me, trailing the length of my right leg before he was stretching his way back up again, head stopping between my parted thighs and nosing at a crease sat at the very top. He didn’t answer me though, instead choosing to shut me up with another gasp by dragging his thumb across my folds.

“Matty.”

“Hm?” He hummed again, having sat back on his heels to watch me squirm as he continued on. I shot him a rather annoyed glare.

“Take off your shirt and fuck me.” 

His brows rose languidly when he flicked his eyes back up to meet mine, then tilted his head. “But I’m having so much fun.”

With a swift kick to his side, Matty’s hand fell away and he shook his head around the beginnings of a smile. “Always so demanding.” He tutted and before I could spit something back– probably about him being the biggest hypocrite I knew– he was placing his hands either side of my head and leaning forward so that his lips were right beside my ear, his breath fanning the shell of it. “You gonna beg for it?”

My breathing grew heavy as I watched him pull away, dragging a finger up the inside of my thigh before stilling ever so briefly and venturing on, up over my hip and then my ribs. He pressed a slow kiss to my chest, eyes flicking up to find mine as his tongue swirled over the skin, there and then gone.

“Come on–”

He huffed a quiet laugh, the force of it lighting goosebumps over my exposed flesh. “Come on, baby. Beg.”

I rolled my eyes, reaching up to grab at his neck but he was already dancing out of my reach. He jutted his chin. 

“Matty.” I huffed.

“Yeah?”

I really wanted to throttle him, “Fuck me. I’m not asking.”

The corner of his mouth tugged itself up into a small smirk, “Good enough.”

A disbelieving chuckle escaped me, one which was quickly cut short by his wandering hands finding purchase on my hips once more, before he dragged me down the length of the bed, his mouth finding purchase on the swell of my breast.

He pressed fast kisses along the curve of it until his tongue flicked out over the nipple, causing me to gasp. My hands flew out to tangle themselves in his hair when he lapped it into his mouth to suck and I groaned at the weight of his hands cradling the curve of my back. 

“Matty.”

He hummed and the sound sent vibrations rippling out across my skin, I fisted my hands into his curls harder.

Shifting until my hips found his whilst he lavished at my chest, I pressed up into him, both annoyed by the fact he was still clad in his boxers and pleased by the very visible wet patch I could see. I ground against him and the sensation elicited moans from the pair of us, his hands flying down to hold my hips steady.

“Patience.” He murmured, but I was having none of it, lifting a leg against his arse to spur him closer. Matty’s head jerked up at the surprise before he looked down at me and stared. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“You better hope not.” I replied, hands finding the hem of his shirt and dragging it off before he could fight me on it. “I’ll make it painful.”

“Counting on it.” Matty murmured back, hair now a mess, either from the clutch I’d had on it moments before or from the way I’d all but yanked his top over his head. “On all fours,” He said roughly, tapping my outer thigh twice. My already flushed skin heated further at the understanding of how he wanted to take me but– contrary to popular belief– I didn’t argue and rolled onto my stomach.

Palms to the sheets, I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees, eyes trained on the headboard. I grinned to myself when I heard Matty groan at the sight, looking back over my shoulder only briefly to see him palming himself through his boxers.

“Don’t have all day, Healy.” I prompted after a moment passed, just before the mattress shifted beneath his weight. I heard something drop to the floor a second later before he was right up behind me.

I jolted a tad at his sudden touch, then was forced to focus on the way his hands slid over my hips with that same familiarity they’d always done, moving up to the swell of my arse to squeeze it before dropping back down to spread my legs further apart.

A moment passed and I was forced to wait in the silence he then gifted me, waiting and waiting until I finally went to say something. It was then that I felt a finger glide down my spine, dragging ever so slowly over my jumping muscles. 

“Hands,” Matty then reminded and I was forced to blink away the haze I had drifted into, reaching up to grab onto the headboard just as I felt him swipe his dick between my thighs, guiding himself up over my folds, pushing past them so he rested at my entrance. 

I let go of a rush of air, splaying my hands further against the headboard before he slammed into me without any warning at all, all the way up to the hilt whilst I cried out at the sudden fullness. “Fuck.” I hissed, head falling between my shoulders as I winced. 

I breathed through the bit of pain that came with the thrust, acknowledging that Matty didn’t move an inch and instead keeping still, hands holding my hips even as he leaned over to whisper, “You good?”

His voice was surprisingly soft in the quietness that encased the flat, reminding me of other times we’d spent here, both like this and in other odd moments. It made my chest ache.

I took another moment to adjust to him before I nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

He hummed in turn but didn’t question it, just waited, thumbs circling the skin on my hips for a moment in a manner so gentle and yet so very Matty, before finally, he moved. 

His thrusts were shallow and slow at first, his thumbs keeping the same steady tempo as they continued to soothe the tops of my hips. I moaned at the feel of him, before I managed to roll my hips back to meet his own, enjoying the sound that escaped him.

“So good.” He said, hand sliding further up my side and towards my ribs before I was titling my head back and Matty was holding a fistful of my hair. He just held it for a bit, forearm pressed against the skin of my back before his thrusts began to grow harder, tugging more and more.

The room was quickly filled with the sounds of our groans along with the bedframe rocking against the wall and I praised all the Gods above for the fact that there were currently no neighbours residing in the flat beyond it, before I was quickly swept up once more in the thick scent of sweat and sex. Matty fucking into me with a desperation I’d never quite experienced from him before.

I panted beneath him, nails digging into the wood of my headboard whilst he picked up the pace.

I couldn’t quite focus on anything but him. His breathy whispers, his fingertips which dotted my skin, the feel of him rocking in and out of me. It was almost as though nothing else existed but this moment, even if I knew it would soon end. His thrusts getting sloppier, his grip tightening, his murmured praises increasing by a tenfold. 

“Come on, baby.”

I liked when he called me that.

Made me feel special. 

But that thought soon soured. Because, was I really? 

How could I be anything special when my whole life I’d been nothing but a doormat for people to walk all over? I couldn’t help but think that Matty would be the same, like he’d gotten too close and finally seen what everybody else already had.

“Squeaks, baby. What do you need?”

I whimpered at his ask, tears collecting in the corners of my eyes. “I–”

What the fuck did I need? It wasn’t meant to feel so loaded, that question. But it felt as though the walls were now closing in. Because was this it? Was this the end?

“I–” I tried, feeling Matty’s fingers slip from the ends of my hair before a gentle palm laid itself flat on the small of my back.

“So good for me.” I heard him say and I moaned at the slight praise, breathing harder as he continued to mumble mostly to himself, “So pretty. So good.”

I was almost there, back arching under his palm as the other moved away from the right grasp it held on my hip, fingers finally finding my clit, knowing exactly what I needed.

“Yes.” I panted as the combination of his hard thrusts and steady hand sent my head into a dizzying pool of water, “God, yes. I–”

I think I screamed as I came, his fingers working deftly whilst mine clung to the headboard, body trembling as I fought to keep myself up. But Matty was there, holding me long enough so that he could reach his high and pull out with a loud grunt, coating my inner thighs. 

We stayed there for, I don’t know how long, until he finally released me, falling away whilst I slumped forward onto the pillows before us. He followed a second later, still catching his breath as he stared up at the ceiling. I watched him, eyes hidden behind my forearm and a sprawl of hair that had fallen over my face, content to soak in what I could of him. What I had left.

Then Matty shifted beside me, I half expected him to get up and leave with some half-arsed excuse on the tip of his tongue, but he paused when he caught my heavy gaze. I let my eyes trail over the side of face, on the tired circles settled beneath his lash line and the slope of his nose.

He looked back towards the ceiling.

“You got your souvenir, remember?” I found myself saying, stupidly, voice just above a croaked murmur, “Don’t let me keep you.”

Quiet. And then, “Do you want me to?”

I knew what he meant, but still I asked, “Want what?”

Matty’s head slowly turned towards me, eyes guarded and peering over at my devastated form. I wondered what he made of me right then, if he thought anything at all. 

When he offered me no words, I refused to add anything either and felt what was left of my heart crumple up into a pitiful bundle when he pushed himself to the edge of a bed with a barely there sigh.

The air in my lungs caught as I watched and waited, eyes trailing after him as he rounded the bed frame to pick up his discarded boxers. I let them slip closed again, not wanting to watch him leave. 

I listened to his feet pad across the hardwood floors and out of the room. My chest ached with every step but I didn’t dare stop him, burying my face further into my pillow. 

I laid in wait for the front door to open, for there to be a clue to his evident departure, but then the footsteps returned. I didn’t dare give myself false hope, knowing he must have forgotten something to have come back. But the padding continued, closer and closer until they were back by the bed and I held my breath as it creaked, my eyes stinging just as I felt a warm damp cloth press against my inner thighs, wiping me clean.

I choked on the sob that wanted to escape me and the cloth paused for a split second before venturing on. I waited, wondering why he was doing this, why he was dragging it out.

Just leave already.

But then the cloth was pulling away again, and the bed was creaking again, and the tears, they wouldn’t stop. 

Stay. 

Please just stay.

I gasped into the pillowcase, stomach tensing with the strength to keep quiet. To let him leave quietly. 

I wouldn’t cry.

And then there was quiet, at least for a moment or two, before the bed dipped once more and there was a hand in my hair, combing the strands from out of my face and tucking them behind my ear.

When I opened my eyes, he was still there. Dressed and ready to go, but still sitting there beside me. Whilst I laid bare, curled up into a ball to better protect myself from his knowing gaze.

Suddenly everything hurt. Suddenly I felt exhausted and was falling apart at the seams.

Matty moved carefully, stretching toward the foot of the bed before returning with the sheet to cover me up, laying it gently over my trembling shoulders. He leaned in to press a slow kiss to my forehead and then went to move away again.

My hand caught his wrist.

And then I was flat out sobbing. Hysterical even. Crying into the pillow almost soundlessly as I gasped to try and catch my breath. Because I wanted him to stay. I needed him to stay.

Not just for me. But for Teddy. And for the life he brought into my dreary flat. To the kindness he never failed to gift me.

I needed him to stay.

I needed him.

I opened my mouth to ask, to let him know. But I could hardly even bear to look at him, blurred as he was through my onslaught of tears, Matty still held the key to all but destroying what little I had left.

His hand returned to my hair, fingers tangling themselves in it, a sudden contrast to the rough grip they’d held there earlier. And then he settled further onto the bed, back pressed against the headboard whilst he continued to run his fingers through my hair.

The tears still flowed but the sobs came less and less, until I was blinking at his shadowed figure in the dark, holding out hope that somehow he’d just know and he’d stay. 

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Love at first sight

PAIRING | Prince!Tony Stark x Civilian!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 9.7K

SUMMARY | Howard and Maria Stark, the current reigning king and queen, are planning on retiring, but they aren't able to until the heir to the throne is married. Their only son, Tony, feels like it isn't the right time for him to get married, nor does he have anyone he would even think about marrying in the first place. This all changes when you walk into his life and turn his entire plan for the future upside down.

RATING | Explicit (E)

WARNINGS/TAGS | Modern royalty AU, a few mentions of 'Y/N', referenced arranged marriage, use of nicknames (Darling, Baby, Angel, Gorgeous, Babydoll)

SMUT | Virgin!Tony, Virgin!Reader, size kink, daddy kink, breeding/pregnancy kink, dirty talk, lots of praise, fingering, handjob, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), cream pie, implied aftercare.

A/N | I want to wish the happiest of birthdays to @ccbsrmsf1 today! I'm so grateful for you, your love and support! Getting to know you has been the best thing that has happened to me the past couple of months, and without you I know I wouldn't be where I am today! This is one of your birthday presents from me, and I cannot wait to see what you think of this! I love you 3000, bestie! 🩷

A/N 2.0 | This one-shot is written based on this request from @ccbsrmsf1 and this Instagram post featuring the amazing artwork of @petite-madame! Thank you so much for the request, @ccbsrmsf1; I hope you enjoy what I did with this because writing was a lot of fun. This story is beta-read by @mrsbuckybarnes1917, for which I'm very thankful. 🩷

A/N 3.0 | Please note that the header for this fic has been changed as of March 10, 2024. If you see any reblogs with a different header, please note that those have been reblogged before this day, and I, unfortunately, cannot change those headers.

EVENTS Masterlist | @marvel-smash-bingo | Royalty AU

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | Photo: Source

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist

~ Tony's POV ~

Tony sighs softly as he looks at himself in the mirror, currently getting dressed to attend a ceremony he's not entirely sure he understands. He knows the point of the ceremony - to find a suitable woman for him to marry. The current King and Queen - Howard and Maria Stark - have been looking to retire due to their age and for Tony to take over the throne, but he can't do that without marriage.

And that is just about the last thing on his mind. It's not that he doesn't want to take over their position because he does, but he knows he's not ready for marriage yet. Tony knows that if he enters an arranged marriage, he will resent the woman he is supposed to rule the Kingdom with, and he doesn't think any woman deserves to be treated like that.

Just as he closes the last button of his shirt, he hears a knock on the door, and with a simple 'come in,' he allows the person to enter.

"Are you ready to go, Darling?" a woman asks softly and gently, and Tony meets her eyes in the mirror. Long, blonde hair flowing over her shoulders and her floor-length silver gown makes her look angelic to Tony.

"Almost, Mom. I need a moment to put on my tie, and then I'm ready to go," he tells her reassuringly. She nods before leaving the room and letting everyone know the ceremony can start. In the large ballroom, about 25 women from the Kingdom have gathered with their parents to give their daughters a shot at getting married to the heir to the throne.

Not long after, Tony can hear the loud music from the ballroom. He knows his parents are introduced, so he must prepare for his grand entrance.

His tie is quickly tied, and with one last look in the mirror to fix his hair, he is out the door and ready to head to the ballroom. However, just before he can turn the corner to lead to the ballroom, he finds a woman wandering the halls and feels he needs to help her.

"Are you looking for something?" Tony asks gently, and the woman snaps her head up at him. With big, round eyes, she looked at him, and that one look had a warmth spreading through his chest like he had never felt before. Is this what love at first sight is like? Tony wondered, and a soft pink blush appeared at the thought.

With a soft smile and a voice like an angel, she tells him she got lost on her way back from the bathroom, where she had gone to freshen up before the ceremony. She got lost on her way back to the ballroom because the palace was like a giant maze.

"If you go through that door on the side, you can get back into the room without anyone noticing; that way, you won't draw too much attention to yourself," Tony tells the woman, and she does after a quick thank you. As soon as she slips through the door, Tony feels an almost empty feeling in his chest. The woman is gone, and the warmth she brought along went with her.

Now, all he wants is to see her again. In whichever capacity that may be.

~ Reader's POV ~

Since leaving the bathroom, finding the way back to the ballroom has been a maze. Just when you were about to give up all hope and maybe sit somewhere in a corner until someone came along, you ran into a tall man with dark curls, the most beautiful dark brown eyes you've ever seen, and a suit that perfectly displays every inch of him, leaving nothing to the imagination.

"Are you looking for something?" the man asks in a deep, smooth voice, and for a short moment, you're not sure what to do. You stand there as you get lost in his eyes before your mind snaps back to the moment, and you tell him what you are doing.

"I-I got lost, actually! I'm here for the ceremony, and I went to freshen up in the bathroom for a moment, but on my way back, well- I guess it's pretty clear I got lost," you tell him with a nervous chuckle, and he gives you a reassuring smile as an answer. Aside from the smile, you noticed the soft, pink blush on his cheeks, giving him a boyish charm that made him look beautiful.

"Oh, that happens all the time! If you go through that door on the side, you can get back into the room without anyone noticing; that way, you won't draw too much attention to yourself," he says, and you turn around to look at the door he's talking about. You whisper a soft thank you before turning around and going through the door, your heart racing a mile a minute as you look for your parents.

"Where were you?! The ceremony has already started!" your mother said to you, and you apologized before sitting next to her, waiting for the King and Queen to be introduced, followed by their son, Prince Anthony Edward Stark.

As soon as he walks through the large doors that lead into the ballroom, your eyes go as wide as saucers because you immediately recognize the man you have just been talking to. You just told the Prince his palace is like a maze. However, you only get to think about that briefly because as soon as the ceremony officially starts, all you can think about is what will happen.

One by one, every daughter is brought forward by her parents, and they give a speech to the King, Queen, and Prince about why their daughter should be the one to marry him and why they are the perfect fit to rule the Kingdom. This ceremony has taken place for years and years, and it is how King Howard and Queen Maria got married, too. But it's not what Tony wants.

When they are about to call you forward, the Prince gets up from his chair and wants to make an announcement. He clears his throat before announcing to everyone in attendance that the ceremony will be over, and everyone can go home.

"I want everyone to know that this is unnecessary to continue. I have made it clear to my parents that I am not ready to get married, and even though I respect our royal traditions, this is one I can not get behind," Tony declares, and a murmur rises throughout the room.

"And the reason for that is because I have met a woman who I would like to get to know better," he finishes, and that's when a roar flies through the room. A few parents are upset that they didn't even get a chance to introduce their daughter, let alone allow them to be chosen by Tony.

His eyes are searching for yours in the crowd, but you're already ushered away within the large group of people, quickly getting lost. Your heart sinks into your stomach at the idea you didn't have a chance to get introduced to him, even though you feel the same about marriage as he does. But since you're of age, you had to join, whether you wanted to or not. And now you're rushed outside, but your life suddenly doesn't seem complete without him. Without the man who made you believe in love at first sight.

~ Tony's POV ~

Since the ceremony, Tony has been walking around with a heavy feeling in his chest as he tries to find out more about you. But there appeared to be no trace of your existence wherever he looked. From asking everyone who could know about you to even going out on the streets to see if he could find you, it was all to no avail. That all changed one afternoon when he finally ran into you in a place he never expected.

He has been looking for you throughout the town and has worked up quite an appetite. He enters a small bakery with a simple yet beautiful sign saying 'Y/L/N Bakery.' The smell of fresh bread is spread out onto the street as he walks by, and as he feels his stomach rumble, he goes in to try one of the delicious pastries on display in the case.

"Good afternoon! How can I help you?" the woman behind the counter says, but she doesn't recognize Tony as he's dressed, so no one will recognize him. For a moment, he feels a little sting that you don't remember him, but that's gone as soon as it comes when he looks into your eyes again.

It's all there: the eyes he's been dreaming about, the hair he's been longing to run his fingers through, and the lips he's been dying to kiss. The woman he had been thinking about ever since running into one another in the palace.

Before his mind has caught up to what is happening, he stumbles out something unexpected, making you laugh in response, his cheeks heating up instantly.

"I want to go out with you," he said, and as soon as the words left his lips, he could feel the embarrassment flooding his body. This was not how he wanted to approach this; he didn't even know your name for crying out loud!

"Oh! Uhm... Well-" is all the woman on the other side of the counter can say, her hands rubbing together nervously.

"Y-You seem very nice and all, but I- I don't even know your name," she tells him, and Tony nods in response. She's entirely correct, and he is making a complete idiot out of himself in this bakery. He's secretly thanking every God he can think of that there's no one else in the bakery alongside you two.

"Tony. My name is Tony," he quickly says.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Tony. I'm Y/N." Tony allows himself to let her name swirl throughout his mind, and it is by far the most beautiful one he has heard.

"Y/N," he whispers, letting the name roll off his tongue to taste it.

"Yeah, that's me! But to return to your earlier offer, I'm taking my break in about 20 minutes. If you want, I can sit here in the bakery and have a little chat with you. It's not exactly 'going out' like you asked, but I hope it's okay with you," Y/N tells him, and he nods. He'd love nothing more than that.

~ Reader's POV ~

As soon as Tony walks into the bakery, there is something familiar about him. You can't quite pinpoint what that exactly is, but something about how he moves is like you've seen it countless times before. You watch as he takes his place at one of the small tables in front of the window. His movements are graceful despite his broad stature.

The 20 minutes fly by in the blink of an eye, and your Dad walks in to take over your duties for the next 45 minutes so you can take a long break.

"I'll just take a few pastries and go sit with him," you tell your Dad as you point at Tony. He's a friend who swung by, so I figured I could spend my lunch break with him," you say with a smile. After an approving nod, you take four croissants before putting them on two plates and bringing them to Tony.

"I hope you're hungry, Tony. I brought you something to eat," you tell him as you set the plate before him. He looks up at you. He has taken off his sunglasses, and that's when you realize who's in front of you—the Prince you were supposed to be introduced to during the ceremony a week earlier.

"Thank you, Y/N. That's very kind," he says as he looks at you, drinking in every inch of your face. You're wearing less make-up, and your hair is in a messy bun, but Tony likes something about how you look now even more than when he first saw you. You look more like yourself; he can tell you're in your element here.

"So, how long have you been working here?" Tony asks you just as you're about to take a bite out of your croissant.

"I grew up with the bakery. My Dad, who is behind the counter now - has owned this for almost 40 years, and I will take over somewhere in the next few years if everything goes according to plan! I have always been here, and since my sixteenth birthday, I have worked here," you say proudly. You love talking about the family bakery because it is your true happy place.

The rest of your lunch break is spent discussing your work inside the bakery and what you like to do in your free time. All too soon, however, the time has passed, and it's time for you to return to work.

"Y/N?" Tony asks, and you look at him as you're standing up. "Do you want to go out with me? You know, on an actual date?" He's wringing his hands nervously, and a blush is on his cheeks as he looks at you with a hint of nervousness.

"I'd love to, Tony. How about you pick me up on Saturday at 1? For a picnic in the park?" you ask, and he agrees. With one last goodbye, he leaves the bakery and returns to the palace. All you have to do is get through the next three days, and then you'll be able to see him again. Until then, you have the memory of him and his sweet words to keep you company.

The day of your date with Tony has arrived, and you're just about to step out the bakery door, so you can wait for Tony to meet you there. The sun is shining, and the temperature is very comfortable but not too hot, so you wear a red summer dress with white sandals and sunglasses to finish it off.

"Have fun on your date, Baby," your Dad says as he closes the container where he puts some pastries for you to take. He sends you off with a kiss on your head, and you're very grateful that your parents understand the situation. However, you didn't mention that you are going out with the Prince because you didn't want to put too much pressure on your picnic.

"Thank you, Dad. I love you," you say before walking to the front door, ready to meet Tony. You're a few minutes too early, so you sit on one of the tables on the little terrace, letting the sun warm your skin as you wait. Luckily, you don't have to wait long because before you know it, Tony walks your way, and he looks like a God in the outfit he's wearing.

Tight, beige shorts that reveal his legs perfectly, spanning over his thighs and hips just enough to frame his bulge nicely, too. The light blue shirt he's wearing spans tight over his upper body, the buttons looking like they're about to pop with one wrong move. Topping that with his neat facial hair, a pair of sunglasses, and his messy curls, he looks like he walked right out of the romance novels you've been known to enjoy now and again.

"Good afternoon, you look beautiful!" Tony says as you kiss each other on each cheek as a greeting. The smell of his cologne invades your senses almost right away, and it is so manly yet very clean at the same time, and there's a bit of him in there to finish it off. You have opted for a light, floral smell, which Tony takes a slight whiff of, and he immediately knows it's his favorite scent and wants to smell it every single day from now on.

"Shall we, Gorgeous?" he asks, and you look at him as he calls you that. Butterflies in your stomach go crazy as you nod before hooking your arm through his, allowing him to lead the way to the picnic. The pastries your Dad gave you are in a bag hanging over your shoulder as you two make your way to the park at a slow, comfortable pace.

"So, I know this is a bit of an odd question, but what is it like to be a Prince?" you ask, deciding to get right into it. The question has been swirling through your mind since your first conversation, and you couldn't wait to ask him.

"Going for the deep stuff, are we?" Tony asks with a chuckle, the butterflies in his stomach going crazy this time. You hum in response, looking up at him, smiling as you listen to his story.

"Well, where do I start? There's nothing extraordinary about it if you ask me. I attend some events with my parents; I am preparing to take over the Kingdom one day, and things like that. It's not as glamorous as everyone might think," he shrugs, but you don't believe him for a second.

"I'm not sure I believe that for even a second! Your life seems much more interesting than you make it out to be. Constant parties, fancy dinners, and things like that, I feel like that must be a dream!" you tell him in a teasing yet enthusiastic tone, and he can't help but smile as he listens to you talking about your perspective of his life.

"You know what, if it weren't for the ceremony, we wouldn't have met, and that would have been a real shame," he says after thinking for a moment.

"Speaking of which, were you there as a guest, or...?" he lets his question trail off, the rest of it implied as you know what he's about to ask. He wants to know if you were one of the candidates for the arranged marriage.

"I was one of the ladies who was supposed to be introduced to you, but right before we could get up, you decided you didn't want the ceremony to continue because you had already met someone. And that's kind of why I was surprised when you asked me out, to be honest. If there is someone else, why would you be going out with me?" you ask, shyness creeping in as you ask the last question.

Tony chuckles as he shakes his head, and his curls bounce playfully when he does.

"Gorgeous, the only reason I said that is because of you. You're the woman who I saw and wanted to get to know. You're the woman who caught my eye, and ever since we ran into each other, I knew none of the women in the room would compare to you and your beauty. You're the one who made my heart beat faster, and I was quite sad I never caught your name that night," he says, and that's when the two of you come to a halt.

"Do you- I mean- Really?" you ask him with furrowed brows.

"Yeah. I know it's probably way too soon to say this, but I never believed in love at first sight until I met you, Gorgeous. The moment I walked into the bakery and saw you again, it felt like my entire life fell back into place again, and I knew I wanted to get to know you better," Tony tells you as he looks into your eyes.

Even though his are hidden behind sunglasses, you know they're focused on yours as he says those things. Your gaze flicks down to his lips as you bite yours before you stand on your tiptoes, reaching for him. Your lips make contact with the facial hair on his cheek, the feeling of it scratchy against the softness of your lips.

"Thank you for finding me, Tony," you whisper as you watch his cheeks turn red. A smile tugs on the corners of his lips as you move to be flat on your feet again.

The picnic was like one straight out of a fairytale. Everything felt so natural between you, from cracking jokes and laughing constantly to some of the most amazing foods you've ever had. At one moment, Tony moved to interlace his fingers with yours, and you two have been seated like that ever since.

"Your hand is so much larger than mine, look! Mine is completely dwarfed when it's in yours," you tell him as you raise your hands, and Tony can feel himself twitch in his pants as you say that. It's something he's been dreaming about: you're so much smaller than he is, and in his dreams, he can't get enough of telling you just that and how much it turns him on.

Lucky for him, you then change the topic, and he goes to sit a little differently, so you won't be able to see the fact that he's pitching a tent already like a horny teenager.

The rest of your date goes by smoothly, and you're back at the bakery right before dinnertime, just as you promised your parents.

"Thank you for the amazing date, Tony; it was an honor to be taken out by the Prince," you tell him as he pulls you in for a hug. His strong arms pull you against his chest comfortably, and you never want to leave his hold if you can help it.

"You're welcome, Gorgeous; I'll be looking forward to seeing you again soon," he tells you before moving down to place a kiss on your cheek, and you turn red at the feeling of his facial hair - wondering what it would feel like to have it scratch the same way between your thighs. You quickly push the idea away because you've only ever been on one date with him, and it is inappropriate to think about him that way.

After your last goodbye, you walk into the bakery before letting out a small sigh, and your Dad immediately knows what's going on in your head.

"So? Did you two have fun?" he asks with a quirked brow, and you nod.

"We did. Tony's very kind and funny, and he invited me to a party in a few weeks as his date, so I think I can consider it a success!" you tell him as you walk to the back, and he nods. It warms his heart to see you this happy and to know it's the Prince making you feel like that secretly feels like a cherry on top for him. Though you don't know that he knows, and he would like to keep it that way for now.

Since the two of you shared your picnic in the park, Tony has been by the bakery a few times during your lunch break, and it is definitely the highlight of your day each time he did, but now he's dropping by for an entirely different reason.

The bakery is empty, as it's right before closing time, and you're just cleaning up. The bell above the door rings, pulling your attention to the man you're slowly falling in love with.

"Hi, Tony! What are you doing here?" you ask curiously as you see him walking in.

"I just wanted to give you a little something for our date tomorrow," he says as he holds up a large bag with what you can only assume will be very fancy and expensive.

"A little something, you say?" You walk around the counter, take the bag from his hands, and peek inside. Inside is a stunning dark blue evening gown, a pair of shoes, a matching set of silver earrings, and a necklace to finish the look.

"You got me all this?" you look at him wide-eyed. You had gotten a beautiful dress from a small boutique in town, which is nothing compared to the silky gown in the bag you're holding. It would have been fine for the gala Tony invited you to, but this will make you look like you fit right in.

"I don't even know where to begin with thanking you," you whisper as you look up at him. He has a warm, inviting smile on his lips as he looks back at you.

"There's no need to thank me, Gorgeous. As long as you wear this tomorrow, you will be the most beautiful woman there, and I know for a fact I won't be able to keep my eyes off you all night," he tells you with a wink before placing a kiss on your cheek, leaving you with a warm spot there as he turns around and heads out the door.

The next evening came all too soon for your liking, but you're very fortunate Tony was waiting for you in front of the palace, ready to escort you into the large building. As soon as you get out of the car, you see him, and the suit he's wearing fits perfectly and has a matching color to your dress.

"Wow, you look magnificent tonight, Gorgeous," Tony says as he helps you out of the car, ready to be escorted in.

"You look amazing too," you tell him with a shy smile as you look at him; his hair is slicked back neatly this time, and even though you miss his curls, this makes him look like a true gentleman and the boyish charm you fell for has never left his face.

"Shall we?" he asks, and you nod, allowing him to guide you into the palace and lead you through seemingly countless hallways and doors. Eventually, you reach the hallway where you two first met, and Tony can't help but draw attention to it.

"Remember this? This is where you told me you got lost in the 'maze' of this castle," he chuckles.

"What do you think? It's hard to forget! But secretly, I'm delighted I ran into you here. Otherwise, I most likely wouldn't have been here tonight," you tell him, but he shakes his head.

"I am sure I would have picked you even between all those women. There's something about you that feels like I'm coming home, and I cannot get enough of your presence. You make me laugh without a single effort, and I feel butterflies whenever you smile or even look at me. So yeah, I think I would have picked you that night, but I'm also glad we took the odd route here and did it this way," he says as he bends down to kiss your cheek, his facial hair tickling you again.

"I'm glad we did it this way too, Tony, but I also think we should go in because I don't want to make the King and Queen wait for our arrival!" you tell him, and he nods. The two of you walk in through the large doors of the ballroom, and he quickly guides you to the large table at the back of the room, where they are currently seated.

"Oh, Darling, it's wonderful of you to join us tonight," Maria says warmly as she looks at you, stretching her hand to introduce herself.

"I'm Maria Stark, and this is my husband, Howard. Anthony has told us all about you already, and we're honored to welcome you tonight," she says, and you feel a little chuckle bubble up as you hear her using Tony’s full name. He smiles in return as he hears your chuckle, and the butterflies in his stomach go wild at the sound. He can listen to that sound for all eternity and never get sick of it.

"That's my official name, but I usually go by Tony in casual settings," he whispers in your ear, and that's when it clicks. He has given you his nickname, which makes perfect sense.

"I'm Y/N Y/L/N, and it's an absolute honor to meet both of you tonight. Thank you so much for inviting me along," you tell them, and they nod in response. After that, Tony guides you to the chair on his left, and you look into the ballroom, which feels odd.

"Do you ever get used to being seated here? Because I feel a little awkward sitting here, knowing I'm just one of them," you tell Tony, and he gently shakes his head.

"You'll get used to it eventually, but there's no need to feel awkward about sitting here, Gorgeous. You belong here just as much as everyone else sitting at this table," he says, and you choose to believe him. Even though it's still a little bit awkward at first, you're quickly getting used to it, just like he said, and before you know it, the dinner is over, and it is time to dance.

"Did you want to share a dance with me on this wonderful evening, Gorgeous?" Tony asks as he stretches his hand for you to take, and you take it as you get up from your chair, ready to be led onto the cleared space that will now function as the dancefloor.

For the better part of an hour, you and Tony have been enjoying yourselves there, doing everything from silly dances to slow dancing. You two have done everything, and now it's time to take a little breather. Tony grabs your hand before pulling you through the large doors, the halls, and a balcony, where you have a beautiful view of the city.

"How are you enjoying yourself so far, Gorgeous? Are you having fun?" he asks as he stands beside you, his elbows on the balcony railing as he looks at you. Like Tony's, your face is flushed from the warmth and dancing.

"It's so much fun! I never knew dancing would make me so happy!" you tell him excitedly, and it works wonders for Tony, too. That's precisely why he gathers every last bit of courage before standing up straight and taking your hands.

"Can I ask you something? There's no pressure for you to say yes or to give an answer now, even, but there's something on my mind, and I have to ask you before I feel like I'm going insane," Tony tells you with a breathy laugh, casting his eyes up as he takes in a deep breath.

Your heart starts beating faster, and the butterflies in your stomach go crazy as you look up and into beautiful, deep, dark brown eyes.

"From the moment I met you, I knew you were the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. You make me feel normal in a world where I never used to fit in, and you bring a smile to my face without even having to do anything. And because of that, I want to ask you something significant."

With that, he lets one of your hands go in favor of placing it on your waist and pulling you close to his body, ready to seal the deal.

"Y/N Y/L/N, will you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?" he asks, and you answer him with a breathy yes, your arms flinging around his neck and shoulders as you pull him close to you. His facial hair scratches nicely against your neck, and that's when you get the sudden urge to kiss him.

You pull back just enough to face him, leaning in to capture his lips with yours. His lips are soft and gentle as he kisses you gently, his hand touching your cheek as he deepens the kiss. Even though he isn't your first kiss, this is by far the most memorable one, and it feels like it goes on forever.

His tongue against yours feels like velvet, and you two can't stop exploring each other's mouths as time goes on until the need for air becomes more prominent than the need for each other. This time, it's his turn to pull away, and you look at him as the realization sinks in. You're officially the girlfriend of Prince Tony Stark, and it feels damn good to be in this position.

The past few years have been fantastic as you have been by Tony's side as his girlfriend and learning everything there is to know about taking over the throne together with Tony. At first, you still worked at the bakery, but once you talked with your parents about being by Tony's side instead of taking over the bakery, you moved into the palace for good.

It has been quite a change for them, but they have always supported you. After officially meeting Howard and Maria, they were sold on the idea. Now that a few years have passed, Tony has been working on preparing a beautiful yet straightforward proposal because he wants to give you everything you want and more, but he also wants to keep it small.

And that's how you find yourself on a beach in Hawaï with the love of your life, sipping on a cocktail in the sun. Here, no one knows he's a prince, and it is a nice change of pace for once. The ring Tony has chosen is handmade by the best jewelry maker money can buy. It is a stunning silver band with a single diamond in it. Simple but perfect for you.

"Gorgeous?" Tony suddenly asks as you're in the middle of reading a romance novel. Your attention is pulled away as his voice calls out for you, and you look up at him with a small smile.

"I had something very fancy planned for tonight after dinner, but I have ultimately decided that I want to keep this very small and intimate, so here I go," Tony starts as he gets up from his chair, the ring clutched in his hand.

"I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side. Over the past few years, you have shown me what true love is like, and I am grateful every single day that you have walked into my life because it wouldn't be the same without you here today," he tells you as he goes down on one knee, and you quickly discard your book without a second thought.

"Y/N Y/L/N, will you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?" he asks, and you give him a loud and enthusiastic 'YES!' before swinging your body forward and pulling him into a hug. The two of you fall over together and laugh loudly as you let everything sink in that just happened. He proposed to you, and it's all you could have asked for.

"I love you so much, my Angel; of course, I will marry you," you say as you kiss him passionately, officially sealing the deal before moving away to allow him to put the ring on your finger. From that moment on, you're officially getting ready to become Y/N Stark-Y/L/N, and you can't wait for that day to arrive.

The rest of the vacation is spent enjoying each other's company and discussing what life will be like as an engaged couple.

"We have to tell our parents as soon as we're home. They deserve to be the first ones to know. And after that, I don't care who knows because I want to shout from the rooftops that I'm going to be your wife," you tell Tony as you're cuddled in bed together on the last night in Hawaï.

"I want that too, Gorgeous, more than you know," he whispers before kissing your head. And with that, you fall into a deep sleep, the ring on your finger and your hand on your future husband's chest. Right now, life couldn't possibly be more perfect.

Not even six months have passed since Tony proposed to you, but tomorrow is officially the big day. You will become Mrs. Tony Stark and marry the man you fell in love with after an accidental meeting when you got lost. It is safe to say he saved you that day and has never let you go since.

Now, you're gearing up for your last day as an engaged woman and the last night away from your husband-to-be. As per tradition, the bride and groom sleep apart on the last day before their wedding, and now it's time for the two of you to say goodbye because you won't see each other again until you're at the altar.

"I can't believe the day is almost here, Gorgeous. I'm marrying the woman I love, and I feel so lucky to have you by my side. Going through all this with someone as amazing as you feel like an absolute godsend," Tony whispers, his forehead touching yours. Tears stream down your face as he tells you that, and your eyes are shut to take in the moment.

"I can't believe it either. But the moment you and I met happened for a reason, and that's exactly why I'm so happy to be here with you today. You have turned my life upside down, but I'm glad you did, Tony. I know my life wouldn't have been half as fun without you. And to call you my husband tomorrow is the cherry on top," you tell him, and he agrees.

"And tomorrow, I finally get to see you naked for the first time," he whispers, making you laugh in response.

"And tomorrow, we finally get to see each other naked," you whisper back. You two have both been raised with the belief of waiting until marriage to have sex, which will make your wedding night even more special. Tomorrow, your life together will officially start, and you're celebrating it by giving your virginity to each other.

"I should go, Tony. I love you so much, and I will see you at the altar," you say before locking your lips with his for the last time until tomorrow. The kiss is bittersweet as it is goodbye for now, but the wait will be worth it. The two of you stay together for as long as possible, but when you officially have to go, you say your last goodbye before heading to your room.

Since you two started dating, you have barely been apart, so it is always challenging to be away from him, but it's almost unbearable on this night. You only want to crawl into your huge bed and under the sheets, ready to warm your cold feet on your fiancé's legs. His arms envelop you in a comfortable hug as you feel his facial hair scratch your face gently with the kisses he places.

All of that would have to wait for one night. Rationally speaking, you know you'll be fine, but it is still a little challenging to be away from him. However, as soon as you step into the room, that is all forgotten, as an entire team of women is on you.

They're taking last-minute measurements to ensure the gown is perfectly tailored. The last things are discussed for tomorrow, and Tony is going through the same thing in his room. Once it is all done and the dress and the suit are perfect, you're left alone, and it is time to sleep.

The next day arrives way sooner than you thought it would, and you feel well-rested as you sit up in bed, looking at the dress on your closet door. The white lace is made from the finest materials and perfectly suits your body, and you can't wait to show Tony what it looks like.

Breakfast is waiting for you, and you dive in immediately, needing to be well-fed to have the energy to go through today. Royal weddings are always a spectacle; yours won't be any different. However, the fact that you will see your parents again on this celebratory day makes it all worth it, because they have always dreamt of seeing you get married one day. 

You hear a few knocks on the door before it swings open, and the entire team of women in your room yesterday is back again, ready to make you look perfect for your wedding day.

"Are you ready to be transformed for your special day, Ms. Y/L/N?" one of the ladies, Olivia, asks you. She's the one who made the last-minute additions to your dress and is seemingly the group's leader. She's very kind and tells you everything that will happen today as you're seated in the chair.

"First, we will do your hair and make-up, after which you will put on your dress and shoes. When you're fully ready, Anthony has requested a private first look with you, so that has been scheduled first. After that, it is time for the official ceremony and the party afterward. How does that sound?"

"Perfect," you tell her, and everything is set. It takes a few hours to get you completely ready from head to toe, but your breath is taken away when you look in the life-size mirror against the wall. You barely recognize yourself, but simultaneously, you look beautiful and exactly how a royal bride should look.

"Now, we will escort you to a different room where Anthony is already waiting for you so you two can have your private first look," Olivia says. You nod before letting her guide you to the room where Tony is. Before you knock on the door, she wishes you good luck, and now it's time to see your husband-to-be again.

You knock on the door, and as soon as you hear his 'Come in!' the butterflies in your stomach go wild. The door opens slowly, and you see Tony standing in the middle of the room, with his back to you, so that the surprise won't be ruined yet.

"Hi," you say as you walk into the room, and Tony immediately gets a huge smile, though you can't see it.

"Hi, Gorgeous. How're you feeling?"

"Better now that I'm seeing you again. Your suit looks beautiful," you tell Tony as you look at the black fabric of his suit, every inch of it tailored to the Gods around his broad physique.

"Can I turn around? I am dying to see how beautiful you look in your dress, as well," he says impatiently, and you can't help but laugh at his impatience.

"Yes, Angel, you can turn around," you tell him, and as soon as he does, his mouth falls open. You can also see tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as he drinks in every inch of you, from your hair to your face and the white lace to the smooth silk adorning your body. He has never seen you be more beautiful, and he can look at you like this for the rest of his life.

"Wow..." he whispers before stepping towards you, your hands immediately grabbing his when he's close enough.

"I'm the luckiest man on earth today," he says before kissing your lips softly and ensuring your make-up doesn't smudge.

After a moment of comfortable silence, you ask him, "Are you ready to get married?" He nods, and after one last kiss, you leave again. It's finally time to marry the man you love. Everything goes by in a blur, and before you know it, you're standing before your soon-to-be husband, Tony.

"Ready?" he asks you. "Ready," you tell him.

"Dearly beloved and honored guests, we are gathered here today to join Anthony Edward Stark and Y/N Y/L/N as they unite to become one. This contract is not to be entered into lightly but thoughtfully and seriously, with a deep realization of its obligations and responsibilities. Please remember that love, loyalty, and understanding are the foundations of a happy and enduring home," the officiant says, and you nod along in response, unable to take your eyes off Tony for even a second.

"Do you, Anthony, take this woman, Y/N, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and health, in good times and bad, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself unto him for as long as you shall live?''

"I do," Tony says, and the butterflies in your stomach are doing constant somersaults as the words slip out of his mouth, followed by a large smile.

"Do you, Y/N, take this man, Anthony, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and health, in good times and bad, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself unto him for as long as you shall live?''

"I do," you say with confidence. A smile tugs on the corners of your lips as you look up at Tony, knowing it won't take long for you two to be officially declared husband and wife. The moment you've been looking forward to for months is here, and it cannot happen soon enough for your liking.

After a short vow exchange followed by the exchange of the rings, it is time to seal your marriage for the rest of your lives.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride," the officiant says before stepping to the side, and Tony doesn't hesitate for a second as he closes the gap between you, his lips feeling perfect on yours. Your first kiss as husband and wife is soft and unrushed, making it the most amazing one you've ever shared.

"I now present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Anthony Stark!" the officiant says, and Tony grabs your hand in his as he walks you down the aisle again, ready to celebrate your union and the beginning of the rest of your lives together.

"I love you, Gorgeous," Tony says before carefully grabbing hold of your waist and dipping you back at the end of the aisle before his lips descend on yours again, and the reaction from everyone in the room is overwhelming. The happiness is palpable, and you're feeling happier than ever now that you're officially married to the man you love.

The party thrown in your honor after the ceremony was impressive, and you shed your fair share of tears during the night. From the speeches to the father-daughter dance, not a single moment will be forgotten, and you're thankful to have shared it with your closest family and friends.

But now, it's time for your first night as husband and wife. It will be your first time for each of you, and it is soothing to know that you go into it without expectations and with the same level of experience. You can get to know each other's bodies and find out precisely what the other likes at a slow pace, which eases your nerves tremendously.

"Let's get out of these clothes, Gorgeous. I've been fantasizing about what you're hiding underneath all these clothes, and I'm dying to have my first taste of you," he whispers in your ear, with goosebumps erupting on your neck. His hands glide from your shoulders to the zipper on the back of your dress, pulling it down slowly.

When it's fully opened, the fabric slides down your body, and you're left in your heels and the delicate white lingerie you wore underneath it. Tony's breath hitches as more of your skin is revealed, and he can't stop looking at the perfect globes of your butt.

"You're perfect," Tony growls as his hands wander, touching every inch of your body he can reach as you lean back in his touch. Your back is plastered against his chest as his hands glide from your hips and stomach over the soft cups of your bra, your nipples instantly hardening at the feeling of him.

Your breathing slowly intensifies as he takes his time gently playing with your nipples through the cups of your bra, kneading and tugging on them to give you the perfect amount of stimulation. Your panties are ruined as you keep getting more and more aroused.

"That's it; you're doing so well for me right now," Tony says as he lets one of his hands glide down over your stomach and to the front of your panties.

"Hmm, so wet for me already, Babydoll," he says, and you nod, spreading your legs a bit as he slips his fingers underneath the elastic of your panties, his fingers gliding through the warmth and wetness between your thighs.

"Fuck, you're drenched," and with those words, he pulls his fingers back before putting them into his mouth and moaning at the taste of you. After just that one small taste, he knows he's hooked, and he can't wait to get to taste your sweetness straight from the source.

"Lay down on the bed for me, Gorgeous," Tony gently orders, and you do as you watch him strip down to nothing but his underwear, which is when you can see a clear outline of his hardening cock. He's about half hard, but it's already impressive, and you're starting to wonder if it'll fit inside you. Tony can read it on your face, and he is quick to soothe you.

"Don't worry, Gorgeous, we can take it slow. It's okay if we don't go all the way tonight, and if we do, I will make sure I will do anything in my power to make sure you're comfortable and not in any pain," Tony says between the kisses he places from your ankle to your thigh and the edge of your panties.

"But first, we have to take these off you." It's all the warning you get before he rips the panties off your body with a force that has you gushing right away from how much it turns you on, and Tony is looking at your pussy as if he's looking at the Eighth Wonder.

"You have a beautiful, perfect pussy, Gorgeous. Dripping wet and so tight, I bet it'll taste and feel amazing," Tony says, and you nod as you sit up on your elbows, wondering what he's doing.

"Lay back, Babydoll; right now is all about you, and I want you to think about nothing but me," he says before diving into your pussy headfirst. If you didn't know better, you would think he had done this countless times before because, with every movement of his tongue, you can feel your orgasm building inside you.

Your moans become uncontrollable the closer you get. When Tony moves to pay every bit of attention to your clit, he has to hold your legs open with his arms as you keep rutting up against him and trying to close them from the overwhelming amount of pleasure.

"That's it, Babydoll, doing so well for me!" he tells you as you're on the edge, and the second he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks you fall apart, writhing in his hold as he works you through your first orgasm. Your entire body is trembling as Tony lets you go, but it is one of the best feelings you've ever experienced.

"You taste even better from the source, you know that?" Tony says as he crawls over you before kissing you deeply, the arousal on his tongue now coating yours, too. It is hotter than you ever thought, and you enjoy every second.

"How're you feeling so far, Gorgeous?" Tony asks as he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear.

"Good," you tell him with a dopey smile, and he can't help but fall in love with you even more now. This was only your first orgasm, and he is planning on pulling at least one or two more out of you tonight.

"I'm glad about that. But before we move on to the next part, I want to tell you that you can stop me anytime, okay? If anything doesn't feel right, we can stop and readjust or stop altogether, okay? Nothing is more important to me than your comfort, so I want you to tell me if anything is off, okay?" he asks, and you nod.

"I will, Tony. But... May I touch you first? There?" you ask as you point to his now fully hard cock, and he nods in response before moving to take off his boxer briefs.

"Of course, Babydoll," he says, and soon the fabric is on the floor, and Tony is fully naked, too. You swallow thickly as you look at his size, which you estimate to be around 10 inches long, if not more. It's looking like an absolute monster cock, and your mouth is watering at the sight, but at the same time, you're very worried it won't fit inside you.

First, you bring your hand to him, wrapping it around gently before starting with gentle strokes up and down, earning yourself some groans as you repeat the same motions. Precum starts to leak from the tip, and you're getting more confidence as you go on. Tony is almost at the point of orgasm when he suddenly stops you.

"That's it for now, Babydoll; if you keep going, I'll cum already, and I was hoping I could save that for when I'm buried deep inside that delicious pussy of yours," Tony says before grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in for a deep kiss.

"Let's get you comfortable by taking off this bra," Tony says as he unclasps it before throwing it away, revealing your beautiful breasts to him. His hands immediately start to knead them, and his mouth descends onto one of them, sucking and licking it as your hips buck up to gain some friction too.

He keeps this up for both of them until he's finally moving up your body, his cock lying between your thighs as he looks into your eyes.

"Remember what I said, Gorgeous. You can stop me whenever you want," he tells you again, and you nod. With that, Tony grabs hold of his cock before letting the tip slide through your folds, your body jolting each time it rubs over your sensitive clit.

"I love it when you're so responsive for me," he tells you with a big smile, and you smile back up at him. After teasing you for a few minutes, he finally lines his cock up with your entrance, just leaving it there for a moment before pushing in.

"How're you feeling now? Do you still want to continue?" he asks, and you look deep into his eyes.

"Yes, Tony, I want to continue. Make me yours, please," you beg softly, and he shushes you with a kiss. His eyes are constantly trained on your face as he slides in the tip carefully, a moan already leaving your lips at the feeling of it.

"Oh, fuck! You're so tight for me, Babydoll, such a tight, warm pussy for me to slide into," Tony breathes into your ear as he slowly slides more and more of his cock in, pulling back before thrusting in just a little more each time. With constant time to adjust and gentle thrusts, he is slid in completely, and you're both moaning and groaning messes at this point.

"Oh my, fuck! You're perfect for me, Babydoll, nothing but perfect," he groans as he starts thrusting, building up the pace slightly. After a few minutes, he carefully adjusts his position, and with this, he has you seeing stars and moaning even louder, your sweet spot being hit with every stroke.

"D-Daddy! Harder!" you beg him, and that's when Tony stops for a short moment. His cock twitches in your heat as the word keeps swirling through his mind. A deep red blush appears on his cheeks, and for a moment, he's a little unsure if he likes it, but that doesn't take long.

"Say that again, Babydoll, call me Daddy again," he begs of you this time, and you comply immediately.

"Please, Daddy! Fuck me harder," you ask him as you're getting impatient, and that's precisely what he does. He keeps building up the rhythm carefully, but eventually, he is fucking you with so much force the mattress creaks loudly and the bed bangs against the wall, but neither of you cares for even a second.

"That's it! Such a good girl for Daddy; you gonna let me cum in this pussy of yours? Huh? You're gonna let Daddy fuck a baby into you? That's what you want, isn't it, me fucking a baby into you so you're beautiful and pregnant, carrying the baby that Daddy fucked into you," he growls at the end, and all you can let out are a string of broken moans.

"M so close, Babydoll, so close and I'll fuck a baby into you, Daddy'll give you exactly what you want," is all he says before you're both falling over the edge, and Tony can feel you clenching down onto him as he spills his cum inside of you, releasing every drop of it deep inside you until there's nothing left.

Tony quickly rolls off you and to the side so he won't crush you before pulling you against his chest to ensure you can both come down from your highs comfortably. The silence in the room is more than welcome as you're both catching your breaths and enjoying the moment.

That night officially marked the beginning of your lives as a married couple. Three months later, you and Tony have officially been crowned the new King and Queen, while Howard and Maria are enjoying their well-earned retirement.

It only took nine months after your coronation for you to become pregnant with your beautiful baby boy, the heir to the throne. And his name? Anthony Edward Stark Junior. He is a carbon copy of his Dad and the sweetest boy you have ever met. When people say they don't believe in love at first sight, it is clear they have never looked into the eyes of their own baby because when you do that, you instantly know it's true.

There is such a thing as love at first sight, which brought you to this moment. Your amazing husband and beautiful son are creating a wonderful family with you, and in this formation, you know you will be able to rule the Kingdom effortlessly, and you can't wait to give the crown to him.

But for now, Little Anthony can stay as small as he can be for as long as possible. He has all the time in the world to grow up, and you only have a short time to enjoy him as a baby. And that's precisely what you plan on doing with your fantastic husband, King Anthony Stark.