#but the gif would've been worth it

[charlieconwayy]

Shameless Celebration ● [10/10] episodes ↳ Requiem for a Slut [7x12]

[icepandawarrior]

It's crazy to think that Julie had fine ass Gina Torres, Ms. Jessica Pearson herself in The Vampire Diaries...

Just to have that blue eyed grinch face smirking bourbon drinking pick me fucking loser fave of hers kill her off and for no fucking reason

[knightofleo]

[schmweed]

[aelswiths]

Secret Diary of a Call Girl: TLK Edition

For @aethelreds

[dilf-docs]

It Always Leads To You

joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!

word count: 5,199 words

side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)

part: I / II

Holidays linger like bad perfume.

Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.

"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.

There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.

You nod. "Just tired. That's all"

He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"

"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.

He makes a funny face, and you laugh.

"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"

He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.

"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"

"Hey" Nick calls you out.

"Yeah?"

"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.

It's his. Joel's house.

"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.

It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.

"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"

"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.

"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"

You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.

"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"

Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.

As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:

"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"

"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"

"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.

"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"

The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.

There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.

You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.

Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?

You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.

"I-I need some air"

It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.

You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.

You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.

"Need help?"

That you're wrong, apparently.

You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.

He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.

"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.

You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.

"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.

"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"

"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"

You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.

"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"

"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"

Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.

"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"

Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.

"Y/n-"

"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"

As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.

"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"

Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.

"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"

The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.

As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.

"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"

He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.

The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.

"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.

"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"

"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.

Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.

"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"

"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.

"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"

You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.

He'll pay for that.

"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"

It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.

"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.

"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"

"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.

He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.

"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"

The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.

"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"

Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.

It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.

You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.

The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.

"Can't sleep?"

You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.

You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.

"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"

"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.

He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.

"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.

He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.

"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.

If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.

A goddamn coward.

Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.

You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.

"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"

"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"

You nod, still absent as he walks away.

"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.

"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.

"Put this in there, will ya'?"

He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.

"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.

"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.

"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.

Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.

Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.

"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"

Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.

"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.

You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.

"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.

"You think that low of me? Please"

You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.

"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."

"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"

Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.

"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"

Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.

"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"

You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.

"You didn't tell me you were close"

"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"

"He still got you a present, though"

You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.

"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"

Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.

Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.

"What is it?" your dad asks.

"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.

You remember it all too well.

"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.

But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.

"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.

You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.

As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.

"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"

The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.

"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.

You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.

"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"

You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.

"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.

"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.

"What the hell?"

This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.

"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.

"No?"

"It isn't fair"

"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"

"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"

He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.

"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"

Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.

"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"

His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.

"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"

He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.

Joel teases your needy core with his finger.

"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"

He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.

"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.

"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"

He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.

"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.

Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.

"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"

It's New Year's Eve.

"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.

And now, Nick is leaving.

"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"

You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.

He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"

"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"

You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.

"See you, y/n. I love you"

Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.

Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.

"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.

"I ain't do shit"

You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"

"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.

"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"

"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"

Your breath hitches.

"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"

He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.

"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.

This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.

He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.

"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.

"Don't"

Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.

Your dress was the first thing to go.

"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"

"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"

He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.

"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.

He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.

"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"

"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"

He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"

You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.

"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"

"Do it, Joel. Just do it"

You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.

His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.

"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"

You needed him, all of him.

"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.

Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.

"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"

"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"

He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"

Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.

The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"

He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.

Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.

After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.

The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.

"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"

He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.

Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy

[swiftdove]

collateral damage

pairing: rio vidal x agatha harkness x fem!reader

summary: after being stranded by your ex-lovers, you've found a new life, hoping to finally move on. unfortunately, fate just doesn't seem to be on your side.

content: angst, allusions to smut, sapphic yearning

a/n: i'm obsessed to say the least

You should've known.

From the moment Agatha stepped foot into your pitiful excuse of a store, you should've slammed the door shut. For years, you'd been reeling from the wounds inflicted by your so-called lover. If you could even call her that. Never, did she once, refer to you as anything other than her 'pet'.

You supposed the name was fitting. You were practically a dog, groveling at the ground she walked on. Hoping, begging, praying, dying that she wouldn't leave. 

Then, without a trace, she vanished from your life, set on her next twisted mission. You had simply been a means to an end, a brief footnote in her life. 

It didn't help that the only other person you cared about, Rio, had followed in Agatha's absence. They'd left you alone, desperately trying to piece together the shattered remains of what you once had. 

Sometimes, you wondered. You wondered if they ever felt guilty about what they did, and if they ever thought of you from time to time. Then, you scolded yourself for even daring to believe that the Agatha Harkness and Rio Vidal would have the time of day to care about you. You had drowned in that pit of self-deprecation for years, slowly re-learning how to live without them. 

And just as you thought you were finally free, the wretched witch came back, pulling you back under her spell. If it were anyone else, you would have said 'no'. But it wasn't just 'anyone else'. It was Agatha. You weren't sure where this sick, borderline-obsessive love for her came from. You had left it to depreciate in the back of your mind, where you would have preferred for it to have stayed.

Unfortunately, Agatha had had other plans.

It was stupid. You hated yourself for it.  You hated that tiny spark that you felt when she said your name, that familiar warmth in your chest when she came close. You would've given anything to stop the feeling.

If only Agatha knew. Throughout her long, melodramatic speech about the rewards of The Road, all you could do was stare at her in disbelief. The promise of being with her, even if it were for a short while, was enough to have convinced you. If you had known, back then, that Rio would have been joining you, you would have eagerly accepted the offer without hesitating.

But then again, time had cast a golden glow over your past relationships. You hadn't remembered how unwanted you had felt in their presence, how much they hadn't cared about you.

Sat around the warmth heat of the fireplace, your gaze lay wistfully on the two women. Situated across from them, you felt more distant to them than you had when you were alone.

"I have a scar," Rio suddenly spoke, glancing over at the coven.

"No, you don't," Agatha shot back, almost instantly. 

Your ears perked, waiting for Rio's next words.

"Yes, I do," Rio replied, glancing over at Agatha, her solemn gaze worth a thousand unspoken words. It was their dynamic, their silent conversations, that left you feeling like a second-choice. The feeling settled into the pit of your stomach, which you desperately tried to keep from coming back up.

"A long time ago, I loved someone." Rio shot another pointed look at Agatha. "And I had to do something that I did not wanna do, even though it was my job. And it hurt them. She is my scar."

If you had the choice to go deaf right there and then, you would have chosen it immediately. Although, you knew it wouldn't stop the sharp pain you felt in your heart. Seeing them together was enough. 

"I have to go stretch my legs," Agatha said, walking away.

Just like she used to walk away from every problem in her life. Like she did with you.

You couldn't bear it. One more second in their presence, and you were sure you would have thrown up.

"Same," you replied quietly, walking in the opposition direction to your past lover. 

It was only until the warmth of the fire was long gone, that you felt the tears sliding down your cheeks. 

Breaking down into sobs, you brought your knees to your chest, burying your head inside. You shouldn't have come. You should have said no. 

It seemed as though fate was constantly punishing you, tugging at your heartstrings until they threatened to break. You hated that a part of you wanted to hurt them. Just enough, so that you too would have left a scar. But you knew you couldn't do it. You wouldn't. Not after they shared, so intimately, their past with you, letting you devour every fiber of their being.

You knew why they were the way that they were. That's why it hurt so much to watch them, again and again, fall victim to their pasts. That's why you could never leave, knowing how much pain they had endured, knowing that their wounds ran too deep to ever heal.

Sympathy was a knife, stabbed straight into your back when they left you to dry.

"You good?"

You'd been so deep in your emotions, you hadn't noticed the dark shadow looming over you. Swiveling around, you were met with a pair of manic brown eyes.

"Rio," you exhaled, quickly wiping away your tears. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Rio shook her head softly, pushing her tongue against her right cheek. Her fingers trailed up your leg, sending shivers down your spine. 

"Come on, now," she lulled. "You never were much of a good liar."

"Maybe I've changed," you replied sharply, pulling away from her touch.

Rio's grip tightened, her fingernails digging into your thigh. "Maybe you have," she replied dismissively. "Is that why you never called?"

You scoffed, turning away from her piercing stare. "No. We're not doing this - this wasn't my fault. You and Agatha left without saying a word to me. Call me crazy for assuming you were done with me."

"Now there's the Y/N I know," Rio bit back. "Always jumping to conclusions."

You rolled your eyes at her. "What does it matter anyways? You seem perfectly fine without me. I didn't seem to have left a scar."

"Is that what this is about?" Rio questioned, a taunting grin tugging at her lips.

You refused to dignify her question with an answer.

"Aww, was our little baby feeling left out?"

A mocking, cruel voice rang out in the air, one that you knew all too well.

"Fuck off, Agatha," you snapped. You were hardly in the mood to deal with her heartless jests tonight.

"Someone's forgotten their manners," Agatha remarked, her voice laced with venom. 

Rio chuckled, her grip still deathly tight on your thighs. You could feel the blood seeping out of your skin, onto her fingers.

"I wish I could have forgotten you instead," you retorted, unsure where this newfound attitude was coming from. 

"Now, now. Don't get too cocky," Rio warned, although the grin on her face said something entirely different.

You bit back a scoff. "What's this, anyways? Last time I checked, you both hated each other."

The Green Witch shrugged. "We both share a common interest."

Refusing to take anymore of this, you made a move away from them, eager to escape Rio's death grip. Unfortunately, the two witches were unwilling to let you get away so easily.

"Don't," Agatha cautioned, her voice alone enough to stop you in your tracks.

"What do you want?" you snapped, finally turning towards her.

Your eyes narrowed as Agatha's smile turned into something sinister.

"You," she replied definitively. 

You laughed sarcastically, barely believing what was happening right now. "Are you fucking kidding me? You left me. You can't - I - don't you think we're too far gone now? I mean, you left me wondering where the hell you -"

"We didn't want to leave," Rio interjected.

"Then why did you?" 

"We cared too much about you to stay," Rio explained, gently interlocking your fingers with hers. "It would've only have hurt you."

"Well, you hurt me either way," you replied bitterly, flinching at the coldness of the witch's fingers.

Rio sighed. "I know. I know we did."

Exasperated, Agatha tilted your head up with her fingers, forcing you to look her in the eyes. "Pet, we're sorry."

"Well, sorry doesn't cut it anymore. Not in my books," you snapped, wrenching yourself out of their grasps. "And don't call me that. I'm not your pet."

Without looking back, you walked back towards the fireplace. Unbeknownst to you, the two witches you left behind were hardly satisfied with your answer.

"She's forgotten who she belongs to," Rio murmured, staring into the back of your head.

Agatha tightened her jaw, shaking her head. Her eyes met Rio's, a knowing smirk playing on their lips. 

"It looks like we'll have to teach her a lesson then, hm?"

[entitled-fangirl]

Lady Hightower.

Gwayne Hightower x wife!reader

Summary: the reader is approached by Criston Cole. Gwayne doesn't like the look in Cole's eyes.

A/n: this is a drabble to keep the writer's block away 😅 I'm still sick, but it's getting better slowly

Masterlist

.............................................

"Lady Hightower," Criston Cole approached the woman.

Y/n turned, her 6 month son in her arms. Her brows furrowed, "Yes?"

He stepped to her, and only then did he realize he wasn't sure why he did it. 

She noted his hesitance and a worried expression came over her face, "Is my husband alright?"

"Yes," he quickly reassured. "He is fine. Just fine."

She nodded and let out a relieved sigh, "That's wonderful. Thank you."

He nodded too, an awkward silence overtaking them. 

She shifted the baby in her arms. "I thank you," she finally said, "For your service to the crown."

Criston moved a step closer to her, "It is worth fighting for."

Her brows furrowed as she noticed his movements. "You've recently been promoted to the Hand of the King, I've overheard."

A smile came across his face, "Indeed. His grace truly blesses me."

Her patience began to turn to annoyance. "My father-by-law should be in Old Town by now. Hopefully with Daeron."

"Lord Hightower is a wise man. The crown shall miss his guidance."

Her head tilted as she studied him, "Indeed, it will." She forced herself to calm down, adjusting the baby against her shoulder once again.

As she did so, Criston took a breath, beginning to enter close proximity to her.

She looked up, his face closer to Criston's than she would've liked. "Ser Criston?"

"My lady."

"You're a loyal man, aren't you, Lord Hand?"

His eyes flickered over her face, "Yes."

She took a large step back and let out an annoyed sigh, "Quite loyal indeed." She looked around, "Where is my husband?"

Criston released a sigh of his own at his failure, "He should be coming back from the stables."

Gwayne did indeed step into the courtyard, a curious look coming to his eyes at the sight of his wife with the knight. The curiosity turned to worry when his wife immediately approached him when he came into her line of sight. 

"Dear husband!"

He reached out and took his son from her arms, wrapping an arm around her waist. He leaned down to her ear, "What did he say to you?"

"I'm glad to see you is all."

He looked past his wife to glare at Cole. "You're sure?"

She reached up and caressed his face, pushing his messy red hair from his forehead and speaking with a soft voice, "Gwayne."

He forced himself to take a breath and calm himself. The baby in his arms let out a soft whine. He looked down at his son, gently rocking him back and forth. "Did you scare the bad man away, my son?"

Y/n smiled, "Well, having him surely helps."

"Not enough," Gwayne smiles. He leans down and kisses her cheek. "Perhaps I need to give you another."

Her cheeks flushed. "Gwayne," she scolded.

A bright smile came over his face. He continued his teasing behavior, "Shall I?"

"This is improper to discuss here."

"I am not offended," he said with his infamous smirk.

She feigned offense, "Give me my son."

She reached out to take him, but Gwayne turned away from her, keeping the baby close. 

His wife giggled lightly, reaching out further, "Gwayne, give me my son."

"He is my son as well."

She playfully huffed. "Then we shall both pray to the Seven that he does not become as teasing as his father."

"Keeping a son from his mother, Lord Hightower?" 

Gwayne lifted his head up, seeing Criston Cole walking to them. He cursed under his breath, "Lord Hand."

"You didn't answer my question."

Y/n sighed, stepping next to her husband and resting a hand on the baby in his arms.

Gwayne shook his head with a clenched jaw, "I wouldn't dare, Lord Hand." A satisfied smirk came over his face, "She knows I would never break apart a family."

Criston smiled in slight offense as he tried to laugh off the man's digs. "Yes, you're a perfect man. Aren't you, Lord Hightower?"

The two stared at one another for a while as the tension grew.

"Excuse us, Lord Hand," Y/n finally interrupted, "But I'd like to welcome my husband back properly."

Criston forced a fake smile to his face, "Of course, my lady. How rude of me." He looked at the two, then the babe, his eyes studying the child longingly. He let his smile drop as he began to step away.

They watched him leave, a bold smile coming across Gwayne's face at his wive's boldness. He leans down again, "Welcome me properly?"

She grins, "Perhaps after the sun sets."

A shiver of lust ran down his spine, "Why only then?"

"We must wait until our son sleeps, Gwayne."

He wraps his free arm around her waist, placing a soft kiss on her lips, "Perhaps he can find sleep before the sun does."

She giggled lightly, "How so?"

"In the arms of his father," he stated as if obvious, "How else?"

She shook her head, "He wouldn't possibly-"

She froze, seeing that the baby in her husband's arm was already asleep, slumbering peacefully.

He looked up at her with a smirk. "Let us lay him down. I have a reunion to enjoy."

His wife grinned, dragging the man indoors.

......................................

[zombeesknees]

#i will never forgive them for the premature cancellation

Favorite TV Relationships ♡ Lucy Preston and Garcia Flynn (Timeless)

[storiesforallfandoms]

winner ~ josh futturman;future man

word count: 2263

request?: no

description: in which she walks in on her best friend..."celebrating" his big win, and decides to help him

pairing: josh futterman x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (masturbation, oral - m receiving, unprotected p in v, josh is a bottom bitch but we been knew)

masterlist (one, two, three)

My hand was raised to knock on the door when it suddenly swung open. Mrs. Futturman smiled at me. "Oh, hello (Y/N)! Come on in!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Futturman," I said as I stepped past her. "Is Josh home?"

"Yes, he's upstairs in his room playing that fantasy game he loves so much."

Of course he was. I could've predicted that. If Josh wasn't at work, he was locked in his bedroom trying to beat an unbeatable video game. If I was ever able to actually coax him out of his room to come over to my place, all he'd do was talk about the game. It was like an addiction for him. I guess it could've been worse; Josh could actually be socializing and getting a girlfriend.

Yeah, I know. Best girl friend with a crush on my best guy friend cliche. Unrequited crush on a friend and all that.

"Hey (Y/N)!" Mr. Futturman said as he came down the hallway. "Looking for Joshy?"

"That I am, Mr. Futturman. I know he's in his room."

"Diane and I are going out for a few hours. Help yourselves to whatever you want!"

Josh's dad patted me on the shoulder and his mom smiled at me before they both walked out. I watched as they got into their car, then turned to do exactly as Mr. Futturman said: help myself to whatever I wanted. I grabbed a can of soda from the fridge and one of Mrs. Futturman's famous cupcakes. I would've grabbed one for Josh, too, but if he was deep enough into his game I knew he wouldn't be eating for a while.

I climbed the stairs to Josh's room. If we hadn't been such good friends, I would've knocked on his door instead of just walking in. If I had paid more attention to the sounds coming from his room instead of his mom's delicious cupcake, I would've realized they were not the sounds of his video game.

Honestly, if I hadn't come over at all, I wouldn't have seen what I did.

Because instead of finding my best friend deep in his game, I found him with his head thrown back against his gaming chair and his hand wrapped around his cock, furiously pumping. The sounds coming from his mouth were sinful and things I definitely should not be hearing. I was frozen, watching the entire situation that I knew I should not have been watching. I was so shocked that my drink and cupcake slipped from my hand. The soda can clattered to the floor, soda spilling all over the floor at my feet. It was that sound that finally made Josh open his eyes and turn to look at me. I could only imagine my panicked expression matched the one on his face.

"Shit," he breathed, trying to pull up his boxers.

I finally remembered myself and turned away as he tried to cover himself. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't know..."

"You could've knocked!"

"When do I ever knock, dickhead?" I could hear him still struggling. I fought every urge that was telling me to turn around and look at him again. "Your parents told me you were playing Biotic Wars."

"I was. I - uh - I beat the game. I was...celebrating."

Under different circumstances, I'd probably get very excited over Josh beating his game. That would make him the first person to ever beat Biotic Wars in the entire world. It was certainly an achievement worth celebrating.

But a different idea crossed my mind.

I turned back to Josh, who still had his pants around his ankles and his boxers haphazardly pulled up. I could still see the outline of his hard cock fighting against the material of his boxers.

"Maybe I can help you celebrate."

He looked at me in confusion. I swallowed my nerve and started across the room. Josh's eyes followed my every move as I came to stand in front of him. His eyes widened as I sank to my knees in front of him. I watched his face as I reached for the waistband of his boxers, waiting to see if he was going to protest.

"Please," he whimpered.

I couldn't help but smirk as I pulled his boxers down to meet his pants. His cock sprang free, red and painfully hard. I couldn't help but marvel at the size. I had definitely fantasized about him when I was alone, but I was definitely doing him an injustice with those fantasies.

I pushed Josh so he was sitting down in his gamer chair again. I wrapped my hand around the base of his dick and pumped slowly. Josh's mouth fell open as I took the tip in my mouth, still pumping my hand at the base. I swirled my tongue around the head every so slowly, looking up at him through my eyelashes. I held his eye as I took more of him into my mouth, going down just enough for my mouth to meet where my fist was wrapped around him. His head fell back against his chair again as I began to bob my head on his dick.

I held on to his thigh with my other hand, trying to keep myself steady as I picked up the pace slightly. Josh was a moaning mess, putty in my hands (almost literally). I glanced up at him again, watching his Adam's apple bob with every lewd sound that came from his mouth.

"Can you take it any deeper?" he asked. "Please?"

There was something about the begging tone of his voice that turned me on even more. I removed my hand from the base of his dick, placing it on his other thigh and taking him further into my mouth. His eyes screwed shut as he moan out into the room again. I could feel his dick twitching in my mouth with every inch that I took in. Eventually I almost had him completely taken in, the tip all but touching the back of my throat. I had never felt so grateful to not have a gag reflex.

His hand found it's way to my hair, just resting there at first as I started to pull my head back. But then I was being shoved back down at such a quick speed that my eyes suddenly watered and I quickly had to pull off to start coughing.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I just...it felt so good. I needed to be in your mouth again."

"It's okay," I said. "But maybe don't shove your dick down my throat suddenly, okay?"

He nodded quickly. "Okay, okay. Please put my dick in your mouth again."

I smirked up at him. "Well, since you're being so good and using your manners."

He moaned out as I took him into my mouth again. I didn't tease this time. I immediately picked up my pace. Saliva started dripping from my mouth and ran down his cock. I was somewhat impressed by the fact that his chair hadn't toppled over or broke or anything with the sheer force of what was going on.

Josh's hand fisted my hair as whimpers and moans escaped from his lips. I could feel his dick twitching, signaling that he was getting close to his release.

"Stop," he said, his hand pulling at my hair. "Wait, stop."

I pulled off and looked up at him. "Are you okay?"

"I am so much more than okay. I'm actually really close, but I want to be inside of you before I cum. If...if that's okay, I mean."

I was off my knees before he could even finish his sentence. I got onto his lap and pressed my lips to his. It caught him by surprise, but he was responding to my kiss quickly. His hands held my waist as I awkwardly straddled him in his chair, the plastic of the arm rests digging into my legs.

"We have to move to the bed," I said between kisses. "I can't fuck on this thing."

"I figured it was a long shot, but the thought was so hot to me," he said.

I got off his lap and he stood. He kicked his pants and boxers off into a pile on the floor before reaching for my shirt. He paused a moment, like he was waiting for my permission. I playfully rolled my eyes and pulled the shirt off myself and removing his as well. I started kissing him again, deciding to give him the pleasure of taking off my pants and panties himself. Once I had them kicked to the floor, joining the other discarded clothing, we both started backing up towards his bed. I lightly pushed him so he was laying down on the bed before climbing on top of him.

"Fuck," he breathed. "This is a nice view."

I giggled. "You're a real charmer, Josh."

I spit in my hand and lathered it over his already saliva soaked cock. I hovered over him, lining him up with my entrance, before slowly sinking down onto him. We moaned in unison as I went down until he was buried completely inside of me. His hands were gripping at my hips, no doubt leaving crescent indents in my skin.

"Please move," he begged. "Fuck, I need to feel you, please."

"I never took you to be such a sub," I teased. "But I like to hear you beg. Can you ask me nicely one more time to ride your cock?"

"God, please ride me. I need to cum so bad. I wanna feel you before I cum."

I put my hands against his bare chest to steady myself and slowly began to grind on his cock. He was buried so deep inside of me, hitting the one spot my past hook ups could only dream of hitting. With every slow grind, he was nudging that spot more and more, and his pubic bone was rubbing against my clit. I hadn't realized how turned on sucking his dick alone had made me, but I felt like I wasn't about to last long either.

I leaned over to kiss Josh's lips. His tongue ran along my bottom lip, asking for entrance, which I granted him. My grinds had turned into bounces on his cock, the pressure inside me building more and more by the second. I could tell by the way his dick was twitching that he was getting close too.

"Shit, I'm gonna cum," he breathed. "Fuck, I-I don't have a condom on."

"I'm on the pill," I assured him. "I want to feel you cum inside of me."

"Fuck!" he cried out, his head lulling back onto the pillow beneath him as he finally reached his climax. The feeling of his warmth filling me up was enough to push me over the edge as well, crying out into the otherwise silent house.

I sat on top of him as both of us tried to regain our breaths. Josh sat up, wrapping an arm around my lower back to cradled me as he flipped us over. I gasped as he slowly pulled out of me, feeling his seed running out of me.

"I had to clean my sheets anyways," he said, eyeing the mess between my legs. "Hold on, let me clean us up."

He hurried out of the room and returned with two cloths. He passed one to me and we both cleaned ourselves up. He tossed the cloths onto the floor with the rest of our discarded clothes before getting back onto his bed with me. I was a little shocked when he pulled me into his arms, but I wasn't about to protest to post-sex cuddles.

"So," he said, running his fingers up and down my arm, idly, "how long have you been wanting to do that?"

"Uh...since I went through puberty and realized what sex was?" I offered.

He whistled. "That long, huh? And you never told me?"

"How was I supposed to tell you? Hey Josh, I know we've been best friends since primary school and you probably don't view me like this, but I have a massive fucking crush on you. Anyways, enjoy your video game that you never stop playing."

"Who says I don't view you the same way?"

"Well, obviously you view me as someone you want to have sex with considering the fact that we just had sex."

"I view you as more than someone I want to have sex with - "

"Friends with benefits is still just seeing me as someone you wanna have sex with."

"Will you listen to me?" he said as he covered my mouth with his hand. "I mean I like you, too, (Y/N). I always have. But I thought you only saw me as a friend, so obviously I wasn't about to say anything."

I groaned and pushed his hand off of my mouth. "God, we are such a cliche, aren't we?"

He chuckled and placed a finger under my chin, tilting my head up so that he could kiss me on the lips again.

"At least this finally happened now that you finished that game," I said. "I never would've gotten your attention beforehand."

"That's not true!"

"Josh, you didn't pay attention to me before. Being your girlfriend wouldn't have made much of a difference."

"It totally would've!"

"Shut up before I decide to take back everything I said."

I kissed him before he could come up with a comeback.

[livinginshambles]

Hear me out, please |James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: The aftermath of when James found out you were his 'cinderella'. James tries desperately to get your attention to get you to hear him out. A tiny twist.

Notes: Not proofread, grammar mistakes. Timeline might be a little off, but magic so whatever i guess? Sorry for the long wait, I hope you guys will think it was worth it!!

Masterlist Part one Part two

___________________________________

A lot of things went through James' mind as he stood there in the Great Hall. You could hear a pin drop before Regulus finally shot into action and dashed out the hall to go after you.

The murmuring started to continue now that the first silence had been disturbed.

"Oh gosh, she's so dramatic," your sister laughed. And she put a hand on James' shoulder to pull him back to his seat.

James turned his head slowly. His attention zeroed in on the hand on his shoulder. He coiled away.

"What the fuck have you done," he spat at her.

Marla's eyebrows shot up. "We did you a favour," she stated, as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

It sent James over the edge. He grabbed her upper arm and harshly shook it.

"A favour? A favour!?" He asked incredulously. His voice raised in volume. "What on earth is wrong with you!" He screamed and looked around; his eyes blown out. "With all of you!"

"You mean what the hell is wrong with you, James?" Your other sister, Alyssa, piped up. "Why are you defending her?" That last word was spat out with so much disgust that it opened finally James' eyes to what you must have endured. He fought the urge to slap her expression off her face.

James let go of Marla's arm and pushed her a few steps back while doing so.

No, he needed to fix this. He just had to. If you would just listen to him, he would explain it all. And then he'd protect you. From every hurtful comment out there.

If you would just let him.

"Regulus," James grimaced. The boy was blocking his path and view, standing in the doorway. You were out of sight, or at least out of James's sight.

"Potter," Regulus curtly nodded at him.

"I need to talk to her."

"You've said plenty."

James 'brows furrowed, and his jaw flexed. Why was everyone deciding everything for him all of a sudden? Why couldn't everyone just mind their own bloody business? If they had, none of this would have occurred.

He would be patrolling with you in the evening, and you would make him laugh about one of your dry remarks. He wouldn't have known that it was you who he was looking for, but in time, maybe he would've figured it out. Or maybe he would've pushed his mystery girl to the back of his mind to let you and all the new feelings in.

"Actually, I haven't. I haven't said enough because everyone is saying things in my place instead. But I never got the chance to say what I want to say, and every time I do, it seems too late. I just want to talk to her." The words flew out of James' mouth, built up regret, anger, and disappointment from how things had escalated.

"Perhaps you haven't said much." Regulus looked James up and down and weighed his words carefully. "And maybe that's part of the problem. But right now, she's certainly heard enough. She doesn't want your grand words."

James closed his eyes in frustration. He wanted to protest, he wanted to scream at himself and pull his hair out, but ultimately, he just wanted yet another chance.

He hadn't expected it to be you. Not at all, but the longer he thought about it, the more it made sense, and the more it seemed... right. And he didn't know why he had been so adamant to form some sort of relationship with you, but the way his heart blossomed when you were around only pulled him further in.

James looked at the ground, as if the solution to his problems would be written down there.

"Okay," he relented.

Without a moment of hesitation, Regulus went to slam the door in his face but stopped at the box that James held put to him.

"What's that supposed to be?" He flatly asked James.

With a heavy heart, James showed Regulus the pair of glass slippers that you had left behind at the Yule ball, and that he had so carefully carried around with him.

James searched for his words his. "I've been holding on to these to return them to their owner," he made an attempt at a smile but dropped it, feeling pathetic. He wondered if he looked as pathetic to Regulus as well.

"Well, I suppose I should return them, now that I've found her." James pushed the box into Regulus' hands, threw one glance past the boy in hopes to catch a glimpse of you, and rubbed his face with both hands as he dejectedly walked away from the Slytherin dormitory.

Perhaps he could try again later.

You stared at the glass slippers in your hand. It felt cool to the touch and looked so beautiful, but you couldn’t help the bitter taste left in your mouth. With one smooth movement, you threw and smashed one of the slippers against the wall opposite of your bed. It shattered in pieces, and you had to smile at that. Even with every spell to reenforce the glass so you could actually walk on it, it broke. Then you gathered every bit of frustration you had in you, and you screamed as hard as you could, tears flowing in frustration.

You hated that you were crying. But the sheer defeat and powerlessness that you felt was too overwhelming, your voice cracked mid-scream and you threw the other slipper to pieces in anger as well. It wasn’t even about the gossiping amongst the students anymore.

You were so tired; you actually couldn’t bring yourself to care about what everyone must be thinking right now. But your sisters and James. You dug your nails into your palm.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror and straightened your posture. With your hands, you smoothed out your frown, fixed your hair and put on a wide smile. All in all, you looked psychopathic, but anything was better than pathetic. You turned on your heel and got ready for your first morning class.

James watched your empty seat in Divination class. This was the only class in which the last two years were put together. He wondered if you would show up. But he knew you. Possible more than anyone. So, he knew that you would never miss a class, because you wanted perfect grades and a perfect attendance rate. You were just like that. Ambitious.

James mind replayed your words again. He was every worst characteristic of Gryffindor; you had said to him. ‘Arrogant, prideful, and reckless’.

Next to James, Sirius was also lost in thoughts. Your words resonated in his head as well. Prejudice creates a vicious cycle. It was true. Sirius’ eyes flickered towards the other empty seat where Regulus was supposed to be. He had completely abandoned Regulus, giving his brother the cold shoulder, and despising his elitist thoughts, undoubtedly created by his mother. Because he had abandoned Regulus.

Sirius wondered what would have happened if he had tried to maintain a good relationship with Regulus after having been sorted into Gryffindor. He wondered if he would have been able to convince Regulus to run away with him.

There was a knock on the door and Regulus walked in with a blank face. He nodded his head in apology at the Professor and took a seat. The door opened again, this time with a little more force.

“My sincere apologies, professor.” You wore a smile that sent chills up James’ back. His body almost involuntarily shot up to go up to you, but he caught himself, and he longingly looked at you as you passed by instead.

After having gotten used to your discrete gestures of acknowledgement in the form of waves, smiles, nods or even winks, James’ heart tugged when you didn’t spare him a glance. You graciously took a seat and motioned at Professor Trelawney to continue.

James jumped up when class was over. His belongings had long since been packed, and he dashed towards your leaving figure.

“Y/N!” he called out to you.

You turned around and looked him in the eye. All the words that James had prepared during the rest of class escaped his mind. James felt those chills again and he finally understood that in all his years with fights between the two of you, you had been petty, threatening to take points away. You had been angry, throwing insults back at him, and you had very much been a major asshole in general. But you had never been this hostile.

“Let me say this once, so we can all be done with it, and never talk about this again, Potter,” you sharply stated. “I am sorry that I wasn’t who you wanted me to be. However, let me make it clear that this was my secret and mine to share. And I made perfectly clear that I was not going to, so your blatant disrespect to publicly call me out the way you did, is simply appalling.”

Remus called James’ name and James made the mistake to look back. When he turned to you again, you were already further down the hall, turning the corner with a steady pace.

James didn’t see you around anymore until Thursday morning. His eyes basically lit up and he repeated his apology in his head. “L/N, wait,” James tried, and he chased after you. Unlike last time, you didn’t stop. Curious students watched you two pass while James tried to match your pace.

“Hear me out, please.”

“I said all I wanted to say, Potter. Let’s stay out of each other’s way from now on.”

“After you let me explain,” James pleaded.

You laughed. “Nothing you tell me will change my mind. I won’t believe anything that comes out of your mouth.” You gave him an annoyed look.

Still, James was not planning on giving up. You weren’t the only determined one here. He grabbed your arm and dragged you into a room. Your eyes squinted and gave him the dirtiest look they could. James immediately let go of you, hands up in defence, a string of apologies following suit.

You glared at him and went to walk straight out of the room when James pulled you back again, and this time, he cupped the sides of your face, and pressed his lips to yours.

For a moment, you hesitated, utterly confused and surprisingly rather okay with the unwarranted kiss. And then anger hit you. Did he bloody think this would woo you, and sweep you off your feet and make everything alright? How dare he kiss you in attempt to manipulate you. You slapped him across the face in shock less than a second later. James blinked back at you in horror at his own actions.

“Godric, no- I- I am so bloody sorry, I shouldn’t have- I’m- I don’t know what went through my head, please wait-” You slammed the door in his face when you left. James hit his head softly against the door. And then he hit it again but a bit harder as he cursed. “What the hell is wrong with you mate,” he groaned to himself. “You bloody git.”

He stared at the dark wood of the door in front of him reluctantly. To be honest, he wouldn’t mind just staying in the room to rot away, how was he going to face you now?

“Lily, please go in my place,” he begged the redhead. “I’ll take your Tuesday shift, I promise.”

Lily shook her head. “Stop being a baby, James. You reap what you sow and I’m not patrolling tonight.” She walked past James and then turned back around.

“Some friendly advice, James, stop being so pushy. No is no, and it might have been cute as 11-year-olds, but not anymore. We’re no longer kids. But good luck.”

James reluctantly dragged himself towards the Great Hall where he could see you pick your nails in front of the door. He felt ashamed, guilty, and absolutely not ready to look you in the eye.

“Hi,” he awkwardly managed. “So about-“

“You’re late. Let’s get a move on it.” You cut him off.

“Right, yeah, we should do that- patrolling.”

It was quiet, not a word spoken between the two of you as James trailed half a step behind you. He glanced at the side of your face. Shadows and light flickered across your face every time you passed a torch.

The silence of the castle did him good, he realised. He’d much rather walk in silence next to you, than be in the midst of all that chaos that was going on right now. He smiled and stuffed his hands in his pocket happily.

“What are you smiling about,” you asked, a frown on your face.

“Hm? What? Oh, sorry.” The smile dropped of James’ face.

“Well, you don’t have to stop smiling because I said so,” you shot him a strange look. “I just wanted to know what’s so funny.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” A beat. And then, “Lily told me to stop trying to apologise to you if you don’t want to hear it.”

You considered his words. You supposed you mostly wanted someone to be angry at. You didn’t want to hear James out and then maybe see that your anger was misdirected. You wanted to stay bitter.

“I don’t.”

“Okay, well, I’ll stop.”

“Good.”

Despite the fact that he hadn’t been able to apologise, and nothing had been cleared up between the two of you, both of you felt yourselves relax a little more. You continued to roam the corridors in silence.

The next three patrols were spent in the same basked silence, occasionally one or two words exchanged. James had so many things he wanted to tell you, but he didn’t want to ruin anything. And then you suddenly spoke up again.

“Good luck tomorrow.”

James perked up at your words. “Thank you,” he grinned at you gratefully. “Are you going to watch the game?”

You shook your head. “No, I’ll be helping out in the infirmary.”

“Did you finish your herbal research then?”

Your eyes flickered up at him in surprise. “Yeah, Madame Pomfrey and I will put it to test.” James nodded along.

“Well, if you ever need a patient, I’d volunteer,” he joked. He watched in triumph as you shook your head in amusement.

“Better check your broom for hexes tomorrow,” you replied. “wouldn’t want you to fall off your broom and break a bone or two.” James snorted.

You pulled the curtain to the side with an exasperated expression. “I was only kidding Yesterday, Potter. What on earth are you doing here.”

James gave you a weak smile, trying to hide the pain in his arm and ribs. “Volunteering to be your very first patient, of course.”

“Tell me you didn’t break your bones on purpose,” you squinted your eyes at him.

“I didn’t break my bones on purpose,” James obediently replied. He shifted in curiosity as you rummaged through a cabinet. “Is this not fixable with any spells?” He pondered when he saw you pull out several vials.

“Externally, yes. But you’d be in the same excruciating pain as if they were still broken. You motioned towards the vials. “Hence the herbal potions.”

“Is that the one with the Nettle and Dittany?” James nodded his head to the bottle on the left.

You hummed in approval, not bothering to hide the fact that you were impressed. “Who knows, Potter. Maybe you have a future of a healer as well.” James beamed in pride at your compliment.

“Just keeping my options open.” James sighed happily. He was glad that he could joke around with you again. You tapped a bottle against his cheek. He let you pour the potion into his mouth.

“Now what?”

“Now we wait.” You pulled out a stool and sat down with a notebook in case you needed to take notes of the effects of the potion. At one point, you must have fallen asleep with your face buried on James’ infirmary bed. A strand of hair was tickling your nose and you huffed to get it out of the way. James shifted to tuck it away with his non-injured hand.

You opened your eyes and jumped up. You looked around disoriented and when your eyes landed on James, who had tilted his head, you felt embarrassment creep up on you. “I’m terribly sorry, that was unprofessional of me. Are you feeling any better?”

James nodded. He sat up to prove it, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “All better. And if you get to apologise, so do I, right?” He looked at you hopefully, internally praying that you wouldn’t just march out straight away. “Will you hear me out?”

You sighed, knowing what would come next, but this time you sat down on the stool again instead of walking away.

“I didn’t know.” When you didn’t respond, he repeated himself. “I didn’t know it was you, and I didn’t know it was going to be published in the newspaper because I wouldn’t do that- you know that I wouldn’t.”

He looked at you and saw you staring back at him. He took it as a sign to continue and cleared his throat. It felt so dry all of a sudden. You quietly reached for a cup of water and handed it to him. James took a sip, a deep breath, and started to ramble on without breaks.

“Sirius found your parchment and then you sisters found it too, but I didn’t. I really didn’t. Sirius said they had already run off and he tried to fix it on his own, so he didn’t tell me, and I only found out right before you did and I would never have written such a mean article about you, because we’re friends- well, at the very least I considered us friends- and I just wanted you to like me because-” James stopped.

“What, you fancy me?” you rhetorically commented. 

James’ heart stopped and his face flushed. “No, of course not! I just- Well, I don’t know- It’s, uh I guess I just,” James tried to form a coherent answer, trying to weigh what answer would scare you away.

You frowned and let your eyes flicker across his face. “Stop it,” you shook your head in denial.

“Would it be so bad?” James murmured. “I didn’t know. But I know I liked the girl behind the paper. And I know I liked my patrol partner.” He hesitated and took a step forward. “I think you liked me too, before you knew my name.”

“Yeah,” you replied. “Before I knew your name. Once I learned it, I no longer did,” you lied. “Because we would never work. Every student said so. All the whispers and comments, insults and rumour were right.”

James shook his head.

“So, date me to spite them. Prove them wrong,” It was a pathetic attempt, but he saw the consideration flash in your eyes, and the more he thought about it, the more he started to get convinced that this was a decent idea.

“You’d have us enter a fake relationship to spite everyone?”

“It wouldn’t be fake to me,” James shrugged, getting more confident by your open attitude. “And who knows, maybe I can convince you that the guy from the paper is still inside of me.”

“This is so stupid,” you shook your head.

“Guess what,” Sirius asked Remus, he covered the page of the book Remus was reading to capture his attention.

Remus slapped Sirius’ hand away. “What,” he replied curtly. Sirius moved to sit on the table of the library. “Are you angry?”

“Mildly annoyed, yes.”

“Because…” Sirius trailed off unsurely. He hoped that Remus would finish the sentence for him, which, luckily for Sirius, Remus did.

“Because I think it’s time you guys stop pestering her. I know you planned to get James in the infirmary. Leave her be, you’ve done enough damage as it is.” He sounded disapproving. Sirius dropped himself back on the table, laying across it as if he was a sacrifice on an altar.

“Prongs likes her.”

“Yeah? Well, he’s handling it terribly,” Remus drily remarked. He took off his glasses and started to wipe them with the hem of his sweater. Sirius patted his pockets, reached into his left one and handed Remus a cleaning cloth for glasses.

“Why are you guys nice to me,” Remus asked quietly.

“What are you talking about Moony, you’re our best friend?”

“I know, but why?” Remus lowered his voice. “I’m a werewolf, aren’t I? I’m a literal monster. So why are you nice to me. But somehow feel the need to keep pranking and bullying Slytherin students? We’re in our last year. Don’t you think we should grow up?” And with ‘we’, he meant ‘Sirius and James’.

‘I know, Moony.”

“Do you now?”

“I think I’m going to talk to Regulus.”

Remus choked on his spit. “I’m sorry, Pads, you’re what?”

“I just don’t want to be like L/N’s siblings. I know I sort of am, but I don’t want to be. And you said we should start being nicer right?”

“Pads, last time you said something to him, he literally hexed you.”

“I insulted him,” Sirius heard himself say and he felt weird for a moment.

“He’s after your ass during every Quidditch game, trying to knock you off your broom.”

“Well, that’s just the point of Quidditch,” Sirius defended again.

Remus smiled at Sirius. “Alright, just be careful. Mid-terms are coming up and I’m too busy with studies to fix you up again.”

Sirius grinned. “If all goes well with Prongs, I could ask L/N to patch me up.” Remus threw a quill at him. “I think I’ll go find L/N later, see if she knows where my brother is.”

The door opened and Remus looked behind him. He did a double take and put his glasses back on to make sure he was seeing things correctly. Sirius was still laying on the table, looking at the ceiling.

“I think I’ve found her,” Remus remarked, uncertainly.

Sirius sat up and gaped at the sight on you and James, walking into the library together while talking. James was holding a pile of books and by the colour of the cover, he knew that those were not James’.

“I’m sorry, did I miss something?”

You looked up in alarm at the words and found Sirius and Remus sitting at a table in the corner. “We talked it out,” you nonchalantly mentioned. Remus gave you a smile and Sirius just stared at you. Then; “Hell yeah, Prongs, I knew you had it in you to confess.” Sirius jumped off the table and patted you on the back with a grin.

You laughed back uncertainly and looked at James with questioning eyes. James looked back at you, reassuringly. He moved all of your books to one hand and guided you to a seat with the other.

“Where’s Regulus,” Sirius asked immediately as soon as you sat down.

You raised your eyebrows. “He’s in the astronomy tower. Didn’t want to join James and I to the library.” You smiled at recollection of the younger Black’s reaction to you and James.

“No way.” He had replied. “What are you two planning?” James had looked at Regulus with an offended look. “What are you talking about? I fancy Y/N and she fancies me, so we decided to make it official.”

“Yeah, I’ll believe you fancy Y/N, but there is just no way she would enter a relationship with you of all people. What’s the deal.”

Sirius nodded. “Well,” he started, “I mean, if he wants to, he uh, the library is a public space, so he could join. If he wants.” Sirius awkwardly sat down on a chair. You squinted your eyes at him. “I’ll be sure to let him know,” you said. You watched as Sirius puffed out a sigh in relief.

You glanced down at the messy scribbles on Sirius’ paper and raised your eyebrows. You’d imagined that the elder Black would have a better handwriting than that. “Anyway, do you need help with Transfiguration as well?”

The news of your relationship spread like fire. Your sisters both received it with a sour look on their faces. “He’ll see we were right, and he’ll leave you again,” they said, purposely loud enough for you to hear it. James had just entered the room and walked straight past them towards you with a flower. He dropped it next to you and sat down beside you.

Against your will, your heart made a small jump and the corners of your mouth tugged upwards. James’ eyes flickered towards your lips and quickly looked away happily. Then he leaned in a little and whispered, “We’re not breaking up if it’s up to me.”

He shifted in his seat, subtly scooting over closer to you. “Go on a date with me tonight,” James whispered.

“We don’t have time tonight. Patrol, remember?” You argued back.

James grinned and shook his head. “Afterwards.”

“It’s past bedtime afterwards. I will not-”

“Sneak around the castle and get caught, I know. But you forget that I have an invisibility cloak.”

You laughed this time. “I’m almost tempted to take 20 points off Gryffindor for your outrageous plan.” Your eyes twinkled and James joined in. He put his hand over his heart in fake shock. “You wouldn’t do that to your boyfriend,” he squinted his eyes, challenging you.

“If he misbehaves,” you answer amusedly. But then you hummed in thought. “Fine, I’ll bite, what do you have in mind.”

James’ grin widened. “The lake’s still frozen,” he whispered. You deadpanned. “I can’t skate.”

James leaned his head against you. “Exactly, it’s the perfect chance for me to show you my gentlemanly skills and woo you.” You turned your head and breathed in the smell of James’ shampoo. "You just want an excuse to hold my hand," you mumbled in his hair. You could feel James smile against your shoulder. “I’m your boyfriend, I don’t need excuses,” he joked.

James swore his heartrate sped up an unhealthy amount when you confirmed, “No you don’t.”

He was absolutely beaming next to you as you were patrolling down the corridor, hand in hand. Your eyes flickered over to James once in a while. It was suspicious to you that he’d been quiet the entire time. James on the other hand was just looking at your intertwined hands with interest.

“Never held hands with a girl before, Potter?” You laughed, but no venom was found in your voice.

James nodded. “Never held hands with a girl before,” he confirmed, not ashamed at all for it. Why should he. You looked at him with curiosity. “What about Lily?”

James snorted. “Have you ever seen us hold hands?”

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p’.

“I was stressing a lot about being a good boyfriend, my hands got really sweaty,” James bashfully explained. You lifted both your hands and squeezed his hand a few times. “You don’t stress about being a good boyfriend for me?” you couldn’t help but ask. You immediately groaned internally and looked straight to the floor, intently watching your feet as they simply fascinatingly put one in front of the other. I mean, have you ever seen something so-. James wasn’t having it.

“’m not stressing with you. I have a pretty good feeling about us.” He sighed contently. You huffed. “Well, I have high standards, and I’ve been told I’m pretty high maintenance, Potter.” You stuck your nose in the air haughtily.

“First, you should stop calling me Potter,” he remarked.

“James,” you nodded. A chill ran up his spine. “And second?” you inquired.

“Second?”

“Second,” you looked at him expectantly.

“Oh! Right, second; I didn’t know you had a relationship before?” And just as soon as those words left his lips, he cussed himself out in his head. Great, now he seemed either a twat as if he couldn’t believe someone like you could have a relationship, or a twat who was jealous and obsessive. And it’s only the first week. James averted his eyes to the wall on his left. Ah yes, the wall seems to be made of stone. Very sturdy, very wall-like-

“No, I’ve been single pretty much my whole life.” You put on your usual sour face, and vaguely gestured to it. “Not very approachable, as I prefer.”

“Then who calls you high maintenance?” James thought bitterly, feeling the need to defend you. “Calm down, prince Charming,” you reassured him with a laugh. Maybe you could see the charm in his recklessness. “I can fight my own battles. And basically, everyone calls me high maintenance.”

The two of you walked side by side in silence again, making your way to the prefect room. You rummaged through a drawer, pulled out a document and started to fill it in. James leaned against the table. “Where do you go during Spring Break? Do you stay at Hogwarts? Because I can also stay at Hogwarts to keep you company, you know.”

“I have my own apartment.”

“You’re not even of age yet,” James pointed out, trying to hide his disappointment unsuccessfully at a missed opportunity of spending time with you.

“Professor McGonagall vouched for me,” you replied. James’ eyebrows flew up. “McGonagall?” He asked in disbelief. You just hummed in reply while you flipped the page to continue filling in the report.

“Well, if you want you can come with me?” You stopped writing and looked up at him intently. As if you were searching his face for any hidden intentions. When you didn’t find any, you gave him an apologetic look.

“That’s kind of you, James,” you smiled. “But I have Regulus staying with me.”

“He doesn’t stay at the Black manor?” James was surprised. You tilted your head. “Tell me, does Sirius stay at the Black manor?”

James quickly shut his mouth as realization dawned on him. Oh.

“Well,” he awkwardly shifted. “You’re both welcome,” he offered. You shook your head in laughing at the mental image. The thought of Regulus and Sirius living together for two weeks was just hilarious.

“I’m done, we can go.”

“Alright, I just need to pick up my invisibility cloak from the Gryffindor common room.”

“I’ll wait here,” you nodded. James offered you a strange look.

“What?” You asked, looking up at him.

“You’re not going with me?”

“What all the way up to the third floor? I think not,” you snorted, plopping down on a chair, and making yourself comfortable.

James huffed and didn’t move. “But what if something happens to me on the way there?” He dramatically sat down next to you on a different chair.

“What on earth could happen to you on the way to your room. This is Hogwarts, you know. The safest place in England probably.”

“What if a monster attacks me, and then I can’t come back, and you’ll think that I stood you up?” James retorted with a pout.

You shook your head and pinched the bridge of you nose. “There are no monsters in this castle, James, where do you think we are? You’re not going to run into a Basilisk on your way.”

James squinted his eyes at you. “But can you promise me that with 100% certainty?” You rolled your eyes in response. “Of course not, but would you take me with you and expose me to such dangers?” you sarcastically retorted.

“Well, technically speaking, and I’m not saying all Slytherins,” James held up his hands at your narrowed eyes. “Snakes are kind of your thing, right?” You closed your eyes. “Charming, you are. Let’s just go,” you sighed.

James grinned in victory as he held the door open for you. “For the record, I would totally protect you from a Basilisk.”

“If you say so.”

Sirius sat up in bed when the door opened, but no one came in. “Hey Prongs, how was ice skating?”

James removed the invisibility cloak to reveal your shivering form. Both of you drenched from head to toe, water still dripping from the locks in front of his eyes. “Got pulled under,” he stressed. “I didn’t know where to take her, I couldn’t let her clean record be tainted for being out past bedtime because of me, and I don’t know the Slytherin password, so I brought her here,” he started to ramble in a loud whisper.

Remus grumbled as he sat up too. “Bloody hell, Prongs, did you take her to the black lake or what?” And when James didn’t respond, “Mate, what is wrong with you.” He got up and walked to the bathroom to get a few dry towels to wrap you in.

James discarded his soaked clothes and dried himself off before putting on pyjamas. Then the three of them stared awkwardly at each other. “Well, she needs to get out of those cold clothes,” Remus remarked. Sirius stepped back. “Yeah, not my girl, not my duty,” he walked over to his bed and dropped down on it.

“Right.”

You woke up and the first thing you noticed was the red colours all around you. You sat up suddenly and blinked a few times. What happened? Oh, right. A hand had broken through the ice, wrapped itself around your ankle and harshly pulled you down into the freezing depths. So that means you’re either dead, or James got you out and brought you to the Gryffindor dorms instead of the infirmary because he kept your clean records in mind. Your heart filled with appreciation at the thought of that.

You looked around and found James on the floor next to you. He was curled up in an extra blanket, but it must be uncomfortable. You went to pull out your wand when you realised that you were wearing his sweater. The little shit changed your clothes, you huffed.

You quietly got up, found your clothes drying in the bathroom and slipped out your wand. With a quick levitation spell, you gently tucked James back into his own bed. Your eyes fell on the two parchments on the nightstand, and you allowed a nostalgic smile to adorn your face. You moved his hair out of the way and let your eyes rest on his peaceful face. Realising you were being creepy, you hastily turned around and snuck out of the room with your clothes and a rolled-up parchment.

“And where have you been,” Regulus sat on the common room armchair in front of the door. He looked like he hadn’t properly slept, and his tone was sharp. “And what atrocity are you wearing. Tell me you didn’t sleep with him?”

“You’re my brother, Regulus, not my mother,” you teased him. You pulled out a chair to sit next to him. “And no, I went skating, fell into the water, blacked out and woke up alive in the Gryffindor dorm. So don’t hex James, if anything you can thank him.”

There was a beat of silence. “I’m glad you’re okay, I was worried.”

“I’m sorry for worrying you. Did you stay up all night?”

“Yes, but mostly because I wanted to tell you something.” You didn’t immediately reply, waiting for Regulus to continue on his own instead.

“Sirius came up to the astronomy tower yesterday evening,” he quietly said. His voice sounded confused, as if he was still unsure of what had actually occurred.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course, I’m okay,” Regulus immediately said. “It’s just that he apologized.” He shrugged. “You think he meant it?”

You thought it over. “I think he did. He asked me last week you know. Where you are, and that if you ever want to join us in the library, you can.” Regulus nodded deep in thought.

“You know, James actually invited both of us over for the Spring Break.” You looked at Regulus to gauge his reaction to that. He looked slightly interested, though he tried to hide it.

“I suppose it’s still a month away, so we’ll see what we want then.”

You nodded and then got up off the chair. “I’m going to change into something else, before my fellow house students want to jinx me,” you said.

“You’re dating James Potter; people already want to jinx you.”

You winked at him. “Well, I’ll be damned, you’re absolutely right. Isn’t that funny? You know what, let them try,” you challenged them as you smoothened James’ sweater.

James woke up and sat up straight in bed, confused. How did he get here? He Looked at the end of his bed and saw it still neatly tucked in- hospital corners. His lips twitched up. You had left, he realised, but you’d tucked him in. He let himself fall back onto his pillow and turned his head to the side. Then he frowned, put on his glasses, and grabbed the parchment. In your lovely handwriting was a message.

Maybe not a Basilisk, but you protected me as you said. Thank you, James. (All things considered, I enjoyed last night.)

James’ eyes traced the words before he carefully placed the parchment under his pillow with a giddy feeling in his heart.

James found you in the library with Remus. His heart skipped a beat when he saw that you were still wearing his sweater. Red looked out of place on you and James absolutely loved it. Sirius shared a look with him and then the both of them decided to sneak up on the two of you, simultaneously stealing your books from under you.

You and Remus narrowed your eyes at the both of them. “I am this close to kicking you guys.” You held up your hand to show your thumb and finger pressed together. James shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “But they’re touching,” he hesitantly responded. Sirius elbowed him in the ribs and quickly handed Remus both your books back.

You sarcastically faked a gasp. “Oh, Merlin, you’re right, they appear to be.”

James cheekily grinned and pressed a kiss to your temple. “You wouldn’t hurt your knight in shining armour,” he bragged, but without any real arrogance laced in his tone. You flipped him off with a grin and pulled out a chair for him next to you. “You’re late,” you airily said.

Sirius suddenly straightened up, his attention fixed on someone behind you. You turned around and waved Regulus over. “Come join us, Reg.”

Three weeks flew by in a blur, but- even though you’ve said this so often now- your were really enjoying your time at Hogwarts again. People’s gossips and predictions about yours and James’ relationship had turned into quiet whispers and envy.

James stood up for you on multiple occasions- after letting you have a go at the imbeciles of course. You had finally gone to a Quidditch game to support James, though of course not when they were playing against Slytherin. You had spent more time in the infirmary and James had joined you a few times by hanging out on one of the empty beds, occasionally handing you an ingredient such as Wolfsbane.

After having established that you absolutely loved hugs, James was always less that a step behind you, ready to give you the affection that you were too proud for to admit you wanted. You had been a frequent visitor to the boys’ dorms as well, making yourself comfortable in James’ arms as you dozed off for a nap. On other nights, you have even managed to persuade Regulus to join a handful of times as well. You wondered what would happen when James would graduate before you, but tried not to think much of it.

“So, we are definitely going to Hogsmeade together this week, right?” James popped up behind you and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“How scandalous, are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah, why? You have a boyfriend or something?” James humoured you.

“Or something,” you joked. The innocent comment hit both you and James at the same time. A reminder that you two were in fact technically not really dating. You shook the thought away.

“I’ll see you at 11 o’clock,” you replied.

James grinned, “I’ll be there five minutes earlier.”

True to his words, he was waiting for you in the courtyard when you arrived on the dot. James offered you his arm and you linked yours through his.

“James?” James hummed in reply. “Does your offer about Spring Break still stand? I mean, I know it’s next week already, and it’s sort of short notice-”

James perked up. “Yes!” he said, a little too quickly and enthusiastic. He cleared his throat and lowered his volume. “Yes, you and Regulus can still come.”

You sighed and nodded in relief. “Right, because Reg and I have been talking and we might take you up on that offer.”

It was evening by the time you and James made your way back to Hogwarts. James had his arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you held his hand. James pressed a kiss to your temple every now and then. “What happened to the glass slippers?” He suddenly asked.

“They broke.”

“They broke?”

“Yep.”

“But didn’t you enchant them?”

“I did, but I was so angry at you that I smashed them to pieces against the wall like over two months ago.”

“Oh… But have you changed your mind since then?” James decided to finally ask you.

“About what?”.

“Me, and us.”

You looked at James and quietly admired him. James kept his eyes straight in front of him, too scared to look at you and see your reaction.

“Well, we are walking together, coming back from Hogsmeade. There’s not a student in sight and yet we are still holding hands,” You light-heartedly replied with a teasing smile. You squeezed his hand for good measure. It seemed enough to make James look at you.

“I’d say we’re pretty good friends-”

“I’m in love with you.”

You froze in your tracks and let go of James’ hand. Well, that took you by surprise. Fancying someone and claiming to be in love with someone- not loving but being in love- that was a next level. You smiled amusedly, successfully hiding your insecurities. “James, you’re not in love with me.”

James frowned at your response. He’d accept your rejection, but not you doubting his feelings.

“Yes, I am,” he stubbornly responded.

“No, you’re not,” you retorted, equally stubborn.

“Am too.”

“You’re not, James,” you exasperatedly said. “You’re not in love, you just fancy me because you’re comfortable.” You shrugged awkwardly. "And you only feel comfortable with me because I know so much about you. Because you poured your heart out to a stranger, and it so happened to be me.”

James bit his cheek, considering your words. Then he grinned and nodded. Your heart dropped, but not as much as it could have, because you had already prepared yourself for this. The joy behind setting yourself up for disappointment by never letting yourself get your hopes up.

“Yeah, I’m really comfortable with you.” He agreed. “Isn’t that great? Isn’t that love too? Being comfortable to the point you don’t feel the need to keep secrets anymore, where you feel the most accepted? The most at ease?”

You stared at James then cleared your throat. “So, when did you start being all knowledgeable and romantic?”

James snorted. You were adorable when you were awkward. “I’m the most comfortable with you,” he earnestly confessed to you. He carefully, as if to not scare you away, put a step forward and reached for your hand. He squeezed it softly. I mean it.

James felt you pull your hand back and bit his lip, forcing it to curl up into an accepting smile. “Right,” he cleared his throat as he tried to form a reply. But you weren’t done yet. You pulled back your hand and then threw both your arms around James’ neck as your brought him in a tight hug. You dipped your head down into the crook of his neck.

“And I’m the most vulnerable with you,” you mumbled against his skin. James sighed in relief, happiness, and love. He wrapped his arms around you protectively, as if to shield you in response.

You tilted your head sideways as you looked at James who was in front of you, down on one knee in your garden. James looked beautiful. His cheeks were slightly coloured from the cold and his hands held a small box with a ring.

“Love?” He asked, waving his hand in front of you, trying to get your attention. He didn’t sound nervous at all, in fact, he felt the most relaxed he’d ever been. This was definitely the future he’d imagined when he’d watched you laugh with his dad while bringing in the groceries. “My knee is getting numb from the cold, love. So, if you could just say yes or no,” he cheekily grinned.

You hummed in thought and then you replied, “Well, isn’t marriage a little too soon?” Your grin widened and spread across your face. “I mean, you’ve yet to officially ask me to be your real girlfriend.”

“Wait what-”

The end :)

Taglist:

@elsie-bells @charlie-weasley-is-underrated @dreamingofmarauders @moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @hollandweather @queerqueenlynn @locklyebrainrot @thisrandombitch @grac3aph3lion @earfquak3 @venomsvl @shrekscrustybudassy @middle-of-the-earth @sirene-noir @littlepoisonmushroom @faumpje @iloveutwice @katelebate @moonysupremacy01 @marina468 @fangirl-kimora @bellesowl @badasswlthafatass @sjprongs @armydrcamers @its-a-ittle-bit-cold @ireallywannasleep127 @sakuyoi @jsjcue @cashtons-wife @idllyastuff @severegiantjudgefriend @ivy-34 @moonyunebi @caspianobsessed @kquil @moonys-luvr @mindflay3r @magpiesworld @my-beloved-fandoms @papichulo120627 @nokkoongie @sbrewer21 @helloitsmeeeeeee @clumsyassbitch @lovelyteenagebeard @joeytribbiani18 @littlemisslovestoread @princesskittycatofmeowland

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

Selfish - Alastor x Reader Oneshot

You face-planted on your bed, what semblance of energy you had left disintegrating and blowing away in the wind.

Today was too long a day.

Charlie needed some comfort after seeing the news roast the hotel again.

Vaggie needed to be calmed down because everyone got on her nerves.

Angel Dust needed a good hug and reassurance that he was worth something.

Husk had drank too much and threw the empty bottle at you when said as much. (He apologized afterward and the guilt made it easier for you to usher him to bed)

Lucifer was disassociating hardcore and you had to walk him through basic selfcare.

Nifty....Was Nifty.

Not that you minded that they needed different help here and there. Everyone needed a helping hand, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen to. And as far as you were concerned, it really was the least you can do. You couldn't fix their problems, but you can carry some of the load for them. That was...something, right?

A knock on the door made you grimace. Masking your agitation with a neutral expression, you opened your door to see none other than the Radio Demon himself.

He grinned down at you, his arms crossed behind his back, his posture straight, his clothes smooth and unwrinkled.

But...his grin seemed a bit strained, at the corners.

Alastor was difficult to comfort as he insisted he didn't have emotions anyway. And he hated to be touched. And his favorite food was raw venison or demon meat. So most of your techniques didn't have much ground.

However, he did love to laugh. So when he needed it, you would often play the role of a clown.

You leaned against the doorframe, crossing your arms across your chest and looked up at him with an exaggerated grin.

"Whazzzzah?" You said, intentionally making your voice nasally and high pitched.

Alastor picked you up like a suitcase and carried you back to your bed, sitting you down on the edge of it and kneeling in front of you. His expression didn't change as his eyes flicked over you.

You swallowed thickly. "Er...What bees the ups my dudes?"

No change in expression. No confusion, no mild irritation.

You started to get fidgety. Maybe you needed some new material? You like doing the funny voices and the purposely incorrect grammar, but if he was sick of it it'd be-

You train of through abruptly derailed as Alastor's hand came up to cradle your face. The other one brushing some of your hair out of your eyes. One claw lightly grazed your skin and you winced.

"So Husker's little fit did hurt you, hm?" He said, pressing the pad of his thumb against a spot typically hidden by your bangs - now adorned with a partially scabbed-over cut.

You winced again "What're you talking about?"

"Oh, my dear. I heard what happened between the two of you. The drunkard got a bit too brash and ended up hurting you."

You sighed "It was an accident."

Alastor's eyes narrowed "Ah yes, it's always an accident with you."

You met his glare "What do you mean by that?"

The Radio Demon waved his hand, materializing some first-aid equipment. He didn't even let you know when he applied some antiseptic to your cut making you hiss through gritted teeth.

"A little heads up would've been nice!"

"An accident, my dear."

You deflated immediately "Ah. Okay, sorry-"

"Thank you for proving my point." He cut you off, a slight growl to his voice. Alastor slapped a bandage over your wound and pulled back, glaring at you intently.

"Huh?"

He rolled his eyes "Everything everyone ever hurts you with is an 'accident' to you. No one ever means to hurt you."

You scowled "Husk didn't mean to hurt me!"

"You're allowed to be mad you know." He huffed "Even if it was an 'accident', you could be mad he threw a fucking glass bottle at you!"

"He didn't mean to." You insisted.

"And Charlie didn't mean to dump all her woes on you, and Vaggie didn't mean to make you play peacemaker, and Angel Dust didn't need you to be a therapist. And Lucifer didn't need you to play nurse. And nifty...." he trailed off, unsure how to categorize your helping Nifty today. He shook it off and met your eyes. You glared back at him and pushed him away.

"No! None of them meant to! I chose to-"

"Would it really kill you to be selfish once in a while?" He said, tilting his head. Red eyes narrowed as his ears pinned back on his head.

"Firstly, i'm already dead. Secondly, I'm always selfish!"

"Give me an example."

"WELL, Mister Everything-Is-My-Business, I slept in to like, noon, yesterday-!"

"Because you spent all night listening to Vagatha."

"-and yesterday I ate the last of the spaghetti-!"

"From the meal you skipped while you helped Nifty hunt bugs."

"I hid in my room all day-!"

"Due to everyone not paying any attention to your immense discomfort at their ruckus."

"...You're dumb." You said, crossing your arms across your chest. Alastor rolled his eyes and pushed you down so you were lying on your bed. His hands were on either side of your head as he leered over you.

"Despite doing nothing but listening to everyone's endless ramblings all day, you're immediate reaction upon seeing me is to play jester and make me feel better."

"You looked upset." You said.

Alastor sighed "Exactly your problem, my dear." He moved away so he wasn't pinning you to your bed, calmly removing his monocle to clean it before gingerly placing it back onto his face.

You rolled onto your side to watched him. "...I don't think it's a problem to care."

"It is a problem to care too much."

"Well, you don't care enough so I guess we even eachother out."

Alastor hummed, looking away from you. You bit your lip. Maybe...you pushed that too far? You never really held back the sass with Alastor, but he was already irritated....

"Ask me for something." He said.

"Eh?"

He snorted, ears flopping in agitation "As you said, you care too much, i care too little. So now we'll do this: you care less about what I want and you care more about what you want."

You blinked, confused "....That's. Oddly sweet of you?"

Alastor snorted in response, still locked in a staring contest with the opposite wall. There seemed to be a bit of red creeping up the sides of his face.... Now was he turning red because he was mad or because he was....flustered?

"So. Can i ask you for anything?"

"Within reason."

"....Can I get a hug?"

The record scratch was audible.

"You have the Radio Demon offering you to do a favor for nothing in return, and you ask for a hug?"

"That's what I want?" You said, snuggling underneath your duvet. "Don't worry about it if you don't wanna-"

"Oh for the LOVE OF!" Alastor cut himself off, grumbling something under his breath that did not sound as jovial as his permanent grin may imply.

The man briefly disappeared into a puff of shadows before reappearing under the duvet with you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing your head into his chest.

You laughed. "Was it that hard to just lift the blanket?"

"Quiet, you." Alastor muttered into your hair. You sighed contently, snuggling closer to him.

"Can I hug you back?"

He tensed up next to you, so you dropped it. Despite his insistence on you being selfish, he didn't push you any further. Instead relaxing more as you made no move to hold him.

"Thanks, Alastor. I'm gonna drift off, so you can head out if ya want." You mumbled into his shirt.

"We'll see."

You didn't bother trying to fight sleep, letting the exhaustion of the day catch up with you and your troubles drift away as you listened to the Radio Demon's heart.

Alastor was still there when you woke up, but don't you dare mention it.

[1000sunnygo]

Ooo stories! 🍿Let me open my history book lol

IIRC, tpn replaced Bleach and the then-popular scan site Mangastream was promoting a new series. The image was the good old first chapter color cover (Emma sitting on a cliff), the editorial texts gave away something eerie going on. I read the first chapter the exact day it came out on mangastream pre-official release (back then, manga+ app didn't exist and we only had the fan scans).

I wasn't blown away but that Cony panel left an unsettling feeling, so I kept coming back to read its updates every week.

It was... mostly text-heavy and boring, almost all chapters felt the same. But I wanted to know how they escape. The moment I really got hooked was Norman's shipment announcement, and the remaining chapters of escape arc were all extremely good. I wasn't convinced by Norman's 'death' at all but Ray's suicide as a cliffhanger got me good 😅 I thought the arc's ending was amazing.

The came the Forest arc, I wasn't sure what exactly should I look forward to. Yugo annoyed me (he was like that in early chapters), GP chapters weren't extraordinary, Norman's Lambda update didn't excite me much either (because ofc he was alive. Why did anyone ever doubt?) Some time after following the series, I eventually dropped it.

Me in the Haikyuu server lmao I used to get mad at tpn chapters always coming out before Haikyuu (back when KnY was far less popular than tpn and used to release last hahah)

Fast forward to inevitable anime announcement, I checked the PV (because I still loved the escape arc conclusion) and was thrown off by adult female seiyuus voicing the boys..

the funniest thing is that I ended up never watching the Dr. stone anime.

Early 2019, TPN was on my watchlist but I didn't immediately start it. I tuned in to watch the clip of Norman catching Ray in ep. 4 when it came out (one of the few moments I remembered), and I do think I watched episode 1 pretty early. Then finally decided to binge it along with Dororo around episode 6/7 release week.

One thing the anime made me realize that I didn't until then: Norman was so. Freaking.

CUTE.

He'd always been my favorite of the three but I never particularly cared him until then. Anime Norman completely rearranged my brain program. Look at that ball of marshmallow, how can you not.

I checked out the latest manga chapter (ch. 119). I didn't know TPN had a timeskip so, for some reason, Emma's tall legs in the hugging panel caught my attention more than Norman's growth spurt lol. I kept peeping the spoilers on and off without properly catching up.

That's also when Norman's sudden reappearance bummed out some fans are the controversies started brewing. I was immediately on defensive mode lol.

even though I wasn't sure about his developments myself..

But thanks to the anime my protective instincts were all time high... and Shirai did the Cruelest thing Possible - releasing Norman and Emma's 'argument' chapter the same week Norman's shipment episode aired. I remember sitting with my lunch box when some spoiler panels came out, I was so sad I completely lost my apatite...

Alright I'll cut the topic there and move to my, uh, "rise in the fandom"... *coughs*

Long series like OP and Naruto were rich in background information, and Haikyuu had an outdated but an excellent masterlist. Luckily, TPN wikia's interview page was a good collection of links. I started reading them even before I caught up on Goldy Pond, and made a Google doc to store the important links myself.

I found that novel 1 of TPN hadn't been translated and heard rumors that it had some noremma scenes. I browsed Eastern sites and finally found some untranslated pages. I could read some Japanese but didn't consider myself reliable, so I made a Twitter account and replied to the most popular translator to catch her attention. Luckily I did, and she then bought and translated the entire novel. So it was partly my contribution that novel 1 story 3 got translated during a bad noremma weather kk

I joined TPN's reddit server, and sometimes translated fanarts on twitter. Around this time, the "TPN telephoneland" event was released, where you could call a number and hear recorded speeches of the main characters. I understood most of the Japanese audio but others were struggling with it, so I decided to translate them myself, those were the official TPN content I translated. If the server hadn't been so supportive, I probably wouldn't have taken the risk.

I posted the translation on twitter too, and found the courage to pick up TPN's drama CDs for translation. The Spanish-speaking Norman fans found my Twitter account and were mostly responsible for spreading my posts, so I was slowly becoming more active on twitter.

Early 2020, I watched the YouTube video "Five Norman facts you didn't know" (?) and cringed at how basic it was. I wrote some lesser known Norman facts on the comment section, but decided to delete the comment and make a Twitter thread instead. The post popped off, people loved it a lot haha.

One of the @tpnmanga translators were on the reddit server and talked about me with the account owner YAG. He DM'd me and invited me to the mod team. I contemplated but eventually joined so I could spread the drama CD translations I still think my arrival was a factor behind that translator slowly leaving tpn fandom she felt she was being replaced ;-; oh well

Later, some of us from reddit server made our own niche server. We began circulating and sharing information among ourselves. I could bridge the connections between server fans, TPNManga team and Twitter's fans, which greatly helped in gathering source materials and (later) translating the extra chapter (Dreams come True).

All the books I translated had been gifted to me. I had always been moderately active in fandoms but TPN fans really helped me to step up properly. I'll forever be grateful that they'd been so so supportive even though I'm clumsy as hell and my posts are full of silly mistakes 😭

Then TPN season 2 happened, idk how (probably thanks to YAG) my twt followers increased threefold and I started feeling uncomfortable by the over-exposure, so I hid behind a private account lol.

When and how did you get into TPN? For me I discovered TPN in 2021 through the Fandom page where I spoiled myself about Conny and some other stuff which I forgot and in 2023 I purchased the first two volumes of the manga and I fell in love. And the rest is ancient history!

Sorry about my little history lesson!

You're good! (If anyone else wants to share how they got into the series on this post I'd been down for that too)

My sister and a friend recommended the anime to me at some point (I want to say after it was on US Netflix) as something I might like. I did not pay any attention to this at all lol. They did lord this over me when it became one of my favorite series. But I managed to avoid all spoilers for it other than the orphanage being a farm, which wasn't a big deal to me since it happens so early on.

Fast forward to March 2021, within the ballpark of a day or two of the season 2 finale airing in Japan. I finished watching another series on Netflix, and it recommended TPN to me. I thought, I vaguely recognize this title, the description sounds interesting, and the thumbnail looks cute, so why not check out the first episode.

(dmotta3's blind reaction lives rent free in my head and inspired this post)

I got to the end of episode 6 and realized that my idea to just check out one episode at 1am was terrible because it was now 4am. But I had the day off from work, so after going to bed and doing everything else I needed to do that day I wrapped up the rest of season 1 because was hooked. I had to know what the fuck is up with these little babies with the mental fortitude and emotional maturity to handle this fantastical dystopia they found themselves in so well. And the final six episodes delivered and then some for me.

Me within watching the first ten minutes of S1e01: oh this kid with the black emo hair is going to be my favorite :)

Me upon watching S1e11: LKJFSDLKFLKDFJL OMFG?? OM?FG?? 🥴🙃🥴 THERAPY! THERAPY FOR A THOUSAND YEARS FOR YOU!!!

I noticed the second season wasn't on Netflix, so while avoiding as many spoilers as I could I took a peek around and discovered that a lot of people were unhappy with season 2. I asked some friends who had watched it if they liked it, and they said it was all right, but not as good as season 1. So what I ended up doing was figuring out where the first season left off in the manga, and then read a few chapters before watching the corresponding parts in the anime to see where it really diverged. By the time I got to the bunker in the anime and saw there was no dad to go in it, I dropped it entirely to focus on reading the manga. It took roughly four days from me putting on the anime on a whim to me reading the bonus chapters and epilogue, and I was initially kind of bummed about it for reasons I've discussed here.

(Chart I made to explain to a friend group my personal enjoyment of the series by arc because it's one of the silly things we do with each other, while avoiding some spoilers by removing the names of the last few arcs. I'd rank Cuvitidala and the human world arc a bit higher now and Return to Grace Field arc lower, but the rest is still largely the same.)

But even with my gripes with the series, it had nestled itself inside my heart and mind, and I was endeared to it enough to buy the blu-ray of season 1 and import the soundtrack.

Another crucial aspect for me was that @1000sunnygo was translating the mystic code book around this time as well as a plethora of other content that wasn't receiving official English releases. This kept me engaged with this silly little shounen that had endeared me so deeply, as I had new official content and information to look forward every now and then in addition to latching on to some fanfics that proved to be foundational for my personal interpretation/enjoyment of the series. It also helped explain some of the issues I had with it, one of them being the pacing toward the end due to Shirai trying to salvage his health after being in serialized publishing for almost four years while still maintaining his sense of artistic integrity by ending the series on his own terms. I don't think this frees said choices from critique, but it helped me personally accept them more.

And then after almost ten months after first watching season 1 on a whim, I made this blog, though I didn't really start using it until February 2022. It was a first for me since I usually just keep everything on main in a random hodgepodge, but the brainrot wasn't going away, and I couldn't put my mutuals through another major interest, so here we are roughly 2.5 years later.

[deansbeer]

where the waves rest easy ⎯⎯ DEAN WINCHESTER.

⎯⎯ you and dean take the kids to the beach, where he opens up about his past, his love for you, and the life you've built together after leaving hunting behind.

♡ KARI YAPS! @deanswidow also contributed a tiny lil idea 4 this so dedicating this 2 her <3 ur dean's babygirl bc it felt right 🤍 love u pooks !!!!!

♡ WARNING(S) fluff | angst | family bonding | mentions of past violence | major character death (pls dont hate me I’ll cry) | grief. mdni ♱ 18 plus. adult content.

📖 JACKLES library.

IT'S BEEN TWO YEARS SINCE DEAN QUIT HUNTING.

two years since he put the colt and his sawed-off shotgun away for good. since he walked away from the life that had defined him for so long. since he said goodbye to the monsters, the blood, and the constant weight of death hanging over him.

two years since sam died.

god, you still catch him looking at the horizon sometimes, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists like he's bracing himself for something—like he's expecting the next apocalypse to come knocking at your front door. but it never does.

because dean walked away.

he walked away for you. for your family. for SAMMY, the little boy with his brother's name and his father's stubbornness. for JEMMA, the baby girl who's only been on this earth eight months and already has DEAN WINCHESTER wrapped around her tiny fingers. he walked away because he couldn't do it anymore—because burying his brother nearly killed him, and he knew if he didn't stop, he'd be burying you next. or the kids. or himself.

and you know sam would've wanted this for him. he would've wanted dean to have what they'd always dreamed about when they were kids: a home, a family, a life that wasn't overshadowed by death and duty.

so dean quit.

he got a job as a firefighter, of all things—because of course he did. being a firefighter lets him save people without the baggage of what came with hunting. it's hard work, but it's honest work, and it keeps his hands busy. it keeps his mind busy, too, most of the time. and you? you're a kindergarten teacher, which means your days are filled with crayons, storytime, and glue-sticked chaos.

it's not the life he ever thought he'd have—hell, it's not the life he ever thought he deserved—but he loves it. he loves you. he loves his kids. and even on the hard days, when the itch to hunt creeps up on him, or when he sees something on the news that makes his instincts scream at him to grab his gun, he reminds himself why he stopped. why he has to stay.

because this is worth it.

you and the kids are worth it.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

it's a friday when DEAN suggests going to the beach.

you both decided to take a day off—something rare, since your lives are usually so busy between work and the kids. but today, the sun is shining, the weather's perfect, and dean woke up with that lopsided grin you love so much, the one that makes him look ten years younger.

"whaddya think?" he asks as he pours you a cup of coffee, jemma balanced on his hip like she's always belonged there. "a beach day? sammy's been talking about it all week, and i think the squirt here could use her first dip in the ocean, don't you?"

you laugh, taking the coffee from him and leaning up to kiss his cheek. "sounds perfect."

so you pack up BABY with towels, sunscreen, a cooler full of snacks, and all the other million things you need when you have two kids under three. sammy's bouncing with excitement the entire drive, and jemma babbles happily from her car seat, her chubby hands reaching for DEAN every time he glances back to check on her. what a daddy's girl.

when you finally get to the beach, the first thing you notice is how peaceful it is. it's not too crowded—just a few families scattered along the sand, kids building castles and couples lounging under umbrellas.

and you can tell the moment DEAN steps onto the sand that this place means something to him.

you've been here before, of course—this is where he proposed to you. but there's something about the way he looks at the water, the way he takes a deep breath like he's letting go of something heavy, that makes you realize just how much this spot actually means to him.

"you okay, baby?" you ask softly, slipping your hand into his.

he turns to you, and for a moment, the smile he gives you is so FULL of love it makes your chest ache. "yeah, sweetheart," he says. "just… this place. it kinda reminds me why i'm here, y'know?"

you nod, squeezing his hand. and then sammy tugs on his leg, demanding to go play in the water, and DEAN laughs, scooping him up and spinning him around before setting him down and chasing after him.

you watch them run toward the waves, and your heart feels so full it might burst.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

a little while later, you're walking along the shore with him, jemma cradled in his arms. sammy's still splashing in the water, his laughter carried on the breeze, and you can't help but smile as you watch him. he really is a miniature version of DEAN—same green eyes, same freckles, same mischievous grin.

"he's got your stubbornness, too," you say, nudging DEAN with your shoulder.

he chuckles. "yeah, well, he gets that from both of us, sweetheart. don't kid yourself."

you laugh, leaning your head against his bicep as you walk. the sand is warm beneath your feet, the waves lapping gently at the shore, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.

"you remember why i proposed to you here?" he asks suddenly, his voice soft.

you look up at him, surprised. "of course i do. but i wouldn't mind hearing it again."

he smiles, his eyes distant for a moment as he looks out at the water. "it was right after we found out sammy was on the way," he says. "i was scared out of my fucking mind, if i'm being honest. not about you—about being a dad. about screwing it all up. but then we came here, and you were sitting right there"—he nods toward a spot near the water—"and you just looked so… happy. like you weren't worried about anything. and i realized that if i was gonna do this—if i was gonna have a family, a real life—it had to be with you. because you make everything better, y'know? even when it's scary. especially when it's scary."

his voice cracks a little at the end, and you blink back tears, reaching up to cup his face. "baby…"

"i mean it," he says, his voice rough. "you saved me, sweetheart. you and the kids—you're the reason i'm still here. the reason i didn't just… give up after sam."

you kiss him then, pouring everything you feel into it. he kisses you back, jemma squirming a little between you but not enough to break the moment.

when you finally pull away, you're both smiling, and for the first time in a long time, you see nothing but peace in his eyes.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

the rest of the day is spent soaking up the sun, building sandcastles, and chasing sammy around the beach. DEAN lets him bury him in the sand at one point, laughing as both SAMMY and JEMMA work together to pile sand on top of him.

"i think they're plotting against me," he says, grinning up at you from his sandy grave.

"probably," you reply, laughing as jemma pats a handful of sand onto his chest.

as the sun starts to set, dean takes both kids down to the water to look for crabs. sammy's eyes light up every time he spots one, and jemma claps her hands excitedly, even though you're pretty sure she doesn't know what's going on.

you watch them from a distance, your hand resting on your stomach. it's still early—you haven't told DEAN yet—but you know he'll be just as thrilled as you are when he finds out you're expecting again.

watching him with SAMMY and JEMMA, seeing the way he lights up around them, there's no doubt in your mind that he was meant to be a dad.

and as you sit there, watching the man you love with the family you've built together, you realize that this is what happiness looks like.

it's not perfect—it's messy and chaotic and sometimes downright exhausting—but it's yours.

and you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

later that night, after the kids are asleep and the house is quiet, DEAN pulls you into his arms.

"thank you," he whispers, his voice barely audible in the darkness.

"for what?" you ask, resting your head against his chest.

"for this," he says, his hand moving to rest over your stomach. "for giving me a reason to keep going. for giving me a family."

you smile, tears pricking at your eyes again. "you don't have to thank me for that, my love. you've given me just as much."

he presses a kiss to your forehead, holding you close. and as you drift off to sleep, you can't help but think about how far you've both come—how far he's come.

because DEAN WINCHESTER may have walked away from hunting, but he's still a hero.

he's YOUR hero.

and he always will be.

♡ SPECIAL TAGS. @beausling @a1ecmcdowell @jasvtsc @titsout4nicholas @aileenunfiltered @frosttbitessam @bluestrd @archiveofvirtue @ultravi0lence14 @rubyvhs @ohsc . . . ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

[fawnning]

EAT MY HEART OUT WHEN NO ONE'S WATCHIN'!

turbo!okarun x ayase!reader, 2.3k. MDNI

song rec; house of cards, bts

explicitly implied that both reader and okarun are well over 18, supposed exorcism? no intro though, ropes used, uncomfortable positioning, okarun is his usual bleak self just much less, afab reader, not proofread.

"You're gonna have to do better than that, shit makes me sad." Okarun whispers behind you, his voice is groggy and intimate, it makes you wonder if this would ever die down after the first round of attempt. 

"What gives you the idea that I'm not?" You're so cocky and adamant it pisses even yourself off. 

"If you really needed my assistance, I woulda expected a thank you at least, y'know?" you start.

"I know, and I'm sorry, really, I am," He sounds so pent up you're sorry for him again. "It's just, I can't stop, 's like I don't even realize it."

"I've got an idea, it might not work, but it's well worth a try," You flip the switch on, the light is dim but it gives you a clear image on what you're working with now.

Somehow Okarun looks much worse, like he's been put through and denied for centuries, maybe.

"Granny mentioned something about warding off spirits with ropes internally,"

"This fucking sucks," He growls out of desperation. "Just gimme a sec, I'm sure it's somewhere in here." You grab at a thick wad of the rope that was scattered around the room, a few yards of red might do the trick.

"What are you even planning on doing? Looks dumb," He sounds dumbfounded as you bring him to his knees, cuffing both wrists, you decide to let him stay free to an extent by letting his hands rest in the front, you tie a knot secure enough it might just cut his blood circulation off.

"This looks.. awfully familiar," He stares from the sidelines of his view. "Too bad you're gonna have to put up with it," You wrap the rope around his neck, tight enough he's got room to breathe and bark around more.

"That should do the trick," You ponder at the years of helping Okarun maintain his composure, it's a stretch to say that he hasn't thanked you enough, but now seems like the best time to get a rise out of him, it's no risk either, when it's someone like Okarun, you've known him since he's donned what could be titled the worst haircut since the dawn of time.

"Y'know, Okarun, don't you ever feel an ounce of pity for me?" You start, it's obviously a joke but it overwhelms him, all those years of having been saved by you, vice versa.

"Of course I have, I mean, it might sound a lil' stupid but I've always wanted to show you how appreciative I am, sounds cheesy so I figured you'd hate it anyways." There's always a catch to his words, stringing depressingly, but it fits his character.

"Oh, not at all, Okarun, if I were you, I would've done something a whole lot long ago." You murmur and smile down at him, he looks so pretty on his knees you're praying this happens biweekly, any more and you'd end up paralyzed accordingly. 

"And what might you be talkin' about?" His cocky attitude flares up for each and every second you keep him waiting at the edge. 

"You know, all those times you've at least thought about me," You pine on, dragging him closer to the corner of the bed by the rope.

He crawls, he follows obediently and he doesn't ever seem to take his eyes off of you. 

 "I know how badly you need it," Now you're facing him, he still stares up into your eyes in desperation, you watch as his eyes darken to a deep shade of scarlet as he shys away. 

"Don't even think about it, sweetheart, He leans into your space. "Not like this, ain't ideal, ain't a good way to leave a nice impression," 

"Then what is? You know you've been leading me on for years on end," Cuffing his face, you trace along his sternum. 

"Such a pain in the ass," He croons into your neck, resting at your chest, "Lemme feel you," He brings both hands to unbutton your jeans, despite being restrained, he does it with ease. 

"Show me what I'm workin' with, will ya?" He eases right in between your thighs, like he fits right there. 

You question it for a second before he glides a finger through your wet heat without skipping a beat, "That's more like it," his brash manner isn't a deal breaker anymore, if anything, it adds on to the situation. 

"That's what being good gets you, but you haven't exactly been good, haven't you?" At this rate he doesn't want to continue playing dumb just to get into your pants, he breaks past the barrier, Okarun tosses the remnants of the rope to the floor, the part that's still wrapped around his neck remains intact, by control of your hands, your wish.

"Mind games until you made me resort to this, y'know I ain't that typa guy," He adds on. "One to have things my way, but you, you're a completely different case." 

"Always wanted to know what that sweet cunt feels like, too much f'me to handle, figured I'll make things easier for you."

"The rope too, how flattering," He grabs one end of the rope, traces it from your shoulder blades down to the flesh of your cunt. 

His fingers are squeamishly long and slender, watching it feel the mound while he continues to tease you. "Fuck," You whisper, your breath is hot, dense as the air as you watch Okarun continue to glide the rope around either sides of your thighs. 

"Hurry up, can't wait any longer," You whine. 

"What gives you the idea that I'm being patient? If we both had things our way, we'd be at the end of the bed right now, you'd be crying for more," He sketches a wide picture and you're eager to paint it complete for him. 

"You're mean," Your hands grasp for the bedsheets. "I can get worse," he binds your thighs complete, now you're unable to move your arms, your legs are free to roam but he's certain you'd never run away, he grants you the right to speak, wants to hear you scream his name, he says. 

"That good for you? Needed me to keep you bound from giving me what I want." His fingers ghost over your pussy, his fingers slip upwards from your sweet spot, then downwards, you groan over the way he mocks you. 

Just as you least expect it, he brings his fingers to your mouth, coats his fingers wet with your spit before sliding a finger through your slit. 

"So fucking wet," He murmurs, curling the digits where you feel it best. "all of this f'me? Too kind," He digresses, he could never do anything like this, but now it's different, he's been keeping you in check for too long. 

You mewl and toss around just as he brings his free hand to hold you down, he jostles you back in place, resting your thighs around his shoulders. "That's too much, please, Okarun, 's too much," you squeal, feeling yourself go numb for a little over a minute, your very core being played with past your orgasm. 

"Messy, too bad." Okarun hums, he's pleased with the girl he's always wanted to see. To become. If he can evolve into a tale of corruption then sure can you. 

"Okarun— Ken, Ken, 'm gonna cum again," you wail and it slips past your mind voice. Within a split second, he pulls back, the fucking audacity. 

Ken.

Lot's of new firsts tonight, this one defied all odds in his mind. 

It's a lingering thought but you wonder if this is even his first time, you dared not to question it at the start out of what could've been labelled as fear. 

"Say that again," 

"Ken," 

"Fuck." 

He lines his swollen tip over your nub, teasing you where it hurts the most before bottoming out inside you. 

You angle your head to face him, watching as he attempts to ease his cock into you. It's big, there's no way it would fit. He notices as you slowly push away. 

"Hey, no sweat, just the tip, how's that for ya?" He soothes, you hum keenly in response. 

"That feel good?" He whispers. 

"Uh huh, feels too good," You nod and babble, eyes shut, head tilted back, the whole nine yards. 

"I got another thing I wanna try," He interrupts, pulling the tip of his cock to feel your mound, he pushes it slightly down and you watch as it shifts in size for each thrust Okarun gives. 

You feel Okarun as he picks up his pace, followed by you garnering what little energy you've got left to spare. 

"Fuck, can't—" He pulls out in a flash, his eyes are half lidded as he watches his cum sputter onto your lower abdomen.

Now he's slightly embarrassed and his movements are ever-so-slightly rigid, a wave of regret and satisfaction washes over him.

"Again, I'm sorry for that, but I gave you a forewarning," He settles by you in bed.

"Anytime," You retort languidly, undoing the rope around Okarun's wrists. 

"Plus, I still owe you one," It's odd, but as friends, you two are bound to retain an even tally of orgasms. 

"Don't put it like that, dude," He groans.

"You're right though, maybe not now." He murmurs, burying his face by your neck, he hums before drifting off. 

[stark-ironman]

Hello, Is it possible to do a request of read x hugh. The reader was in their 20s and hugh 55 and the reader brought hugh to meet the parents,but the parents didn't agree with age gap? (no smut, ending can anything) Thank you so much :)

I Choose You

18+ Only No Minors

A/N: I sort of know what this is like since I have an older man, not as old as Hugh but still so I hope you like it!!

You grip Hugh's hand tightly while he drives down the street to your parents house, nervously biting your lip as you both approach the house. "Darling, it's going to be okay." Hugh calmly tells you once he pulls into the house. "I told them you was a bit older than me but I never specified to them the exact age. They're going to flip on me." You whimper but Hugh hushes you quickly.

"I'm sure it will be okay. Besides, with my beard shaved off I don't look a day over 40." He jokes, causing you to choke out a laugh and look at him. "Promise me you won't leave me after their interrogation?" You ask. Hugh leans over to console and kisses you softly, "It's going to take more than meeting your parents to get me to leave you, love." He sincerely tells you with a soft smile.

"Let's do this then.." He gets out of the car and walks over to your side, helping you out and let's you lead the way, your hand intertwined with his. You knock softly on the door as Hugh wraps an arm around your waist, kissing your forehead softly right when your mom opens the door.

"Y/N! Oh, it's so good to see you!" She exclaims, hugging you tightly before letting you go. "Oh... who is this?" She asks, her eyes roaming over Hugh with a weird look on her face. "Hugh, ma'am. Nice to meet you." Hugh extends his hand out to shake your moms but she turns slightly, calling for your father.

"There's my little girl," Your father says with a smile, pulling you in for a hug as he looks over at Hugh. "Well, who is this gentleman?" He asks as he checks him over. "Hugh, sir." Hugh smiles and extends his hand out, your father taking it cautiously.

"Aren't you a bit old to be dating my daughter?" Your father asks and you grab Hugh's hand nervously. "I probably am but it's something we talked over very thoroughly before anything fully happened." Hugh explains as he smiles at you.

"How old are you exactly?" "55.." Hugh slowly says, knowing the reaction he's most likely fixing to recieve. "What on earth does a 55 year old man have to do with a 27 year old woman!" Your dad exclaims, causing you to flinch but you calmly look at him. "I'm the one who came onto him, dad. He would've never acted on anything if I didn't initiate it." "He has no right being with you. He's only a 10 years younger than me!" Your dad yells.

"I know but I couldn't help it. I love him, dad. He makes me the happiest I've been in a long time." You smile at him, Hugh staring proudly down at you but your father quickly ruins the moment. "No daughter of mine will date a man this old. Either you break it off with him or stay off my property and don't come back."

You look at your father with wide eyes, trying to make sure you heard him right as Hugh steps in front of you. "Let's not make any rash decisions while angry. I know this is a shock but I promise, I'm not going to hurt her and I know you don't either. She's the light of my life and I don't want anybody doing or saying something they're going to regret." Hugh tries to say but your father shakes his head, "Get off my property, both of you."

They go inside the house and shut the door, tears flowing quickly down your face as you bury your face in Hugh's chest. "You should go." He quietly says, causing you to quickly look up at him. "I'm not worth you losing your relationship with your parents. Go inside with them. I'll be okay." He says, tears forming in his eyes as well.

"I'm not doing that," He looks down at you, eyes staring at you with sadness, "I don't care what they say. I'm happy with you and you're everything to me. I don't care that you're older, I love you for who you are. If I have to go no- contact with my family or friends then so be it. You're all I need, Hugh." You explain and he kisses you deeply, holding you close to him.

"You're all I need, darling. I love you more than life itself." He kisses your forehead then rubs your shoulders. "Let's get out of here before they come out with a baseball bat." You say, leading him back out to the car, getting in and he starts the car.

"It's us against the world, darling. Nothing will ever change that."