#except they made. more than just one girl

[transformers-spike]

After the autobots eating puss hc I AM BEGGING for the Decepticons counterpart. Please please please pleaseeeeee I need my evil boys and girls eating pussy and eating it GOOD

Will be doing the cons I've seen until now in the show. So sorry Shockwave, you gotta wait this out.

Dreadwing is, to put it simply, horrible at eating out. Please don’t hold it against him, he wasn’t exactly out there back on Cybertron, and things got even worse when he was cooped up in his spaceship hunting down Autobots and Wreckers. Can he even remember when he last ate valve? Probably, Cybertronians have better memories than humans, but there’s no way he doesn’t cringe inside recalling the event. He has no idea what he’s doing, he’s the furthest thing from a Casanova, the antithesis of a sex god. Show him some mercy and give him instructions, he’ll listen to them as best he can, you just wish he would go harder and stop holding back like you’re made of glass. To be fair, by Cybertronian standards you’re extremely fragile, but… you trust him enough not to kill you with his glossa. It’s all awkward licks without your input, staring down at your pussy like it’s a bomb he has to defuse, and it’s not very sexy when he’s analyzing your genitals instead of eating you out. He can treat you like a gentlebot as much as he wants, protectively cupping you in his servo while on his knees, bringing your little body to his intake and ex-venting against it, leaving shivers down your spine. But the second he gets to work it feels like you bought a vibrator on Temu and received a bootleg PS5 controller. Either you beat the circumstances and cum against his face, or you make no progress in the span of hours. Cut the guy some slack, he’s trying his best to please.

Skyquake has the opposite problem. No, sadly not in the sense that he can tongue fuck you until you see Primus and get a drawn out “Nice” from their God/Creator/Dad. Bad cunnilingus runs in the family. The issue is, he’s too rough. If it’s not the general glossa to clit action, it’s the way he’s holding you in his servos, digits wrapped too tightly around your itty bitty body, enough to make you wince. He will adjust his grip if asked, but don’t expect him to remember during the entire act. You offer a prayer to the fallen Cybertronians who had their anterior nods bitten off by a walking jet with no chill. Squirm too much and he’ll assume he’s doing a good job, beg him to stop and he’ll take it as encouragement to keep overstimulating you. Except it’s not overstimulation – oh no. He’s turning your pussy numb faster than you can say “I wish it was your brother”. He’s well-meaning, just too intense for your own good. You have to treat him like a rescue, lure him in with treats and train him to stop biting you at random intervals. If you manage, he’ll lower his aggression, if only a little bit, and he’ll try being more mindful of your reaction, shedding his one track mind for a night or two. There are complicated cases, then there’s Starscream who, like the drama queen he is, has to be number one in avoiding your genitals like the plague until he feels safe enough to give them a try. Ironic since he can shishkebab you with those giant claws, but dude needs to trust you enough if he’s going to stick his glossa between your folds. Worst thing is; he’s good. Not just good, but fantastic at eating out. Who fucking knows how many Cybertronians had their valves ruined at his servos, but you have to earn your keep, make it to the top of his most trusted list and reap your reward. He enjoys the act, leaning all casually against a wall with you in his servos, keeping your thighs apart with two sharp as steel digits; applying languid licks to your pussy until you’re shaking in his gentle grip. Buck into him, he encourages it, it feeds into his ego, and by Primus the more praise you slather onto your words the better he does. Give him any kind of appreciation and he’s clinging onto it like the holy grail. He gets off on pushing you to your limits, having you beg for more as he assures you in a silky voice that you will get your dues soon. Absolute 10/10, do recommend.

Soundwave does not possess a proper “mouth” by human standards, doubtful he even had one when he was forged. But he has a sort of… throat intake for lack of a better word which he uses to refuel. Fear not fellow robot-fuckers! He makes up for what he lacks in other ways, mainly making proper use of his tentacle-like cables, each possessing a number of thin wires. Under usual circumstances, he uses them to connect to machinery or, in case he needs an extra oomf during a brawl, lights his opponent the fuck up with one billion volts of pure ass-kicking electricity. Now, don’t worry, Soundwave isn’t planning on turning your pussy into a death row inmate. He’s got enough control over his own frame to avoid this worst case scenario, and he’s certainly not clumsy enough to accidentally fry your pussy like a thanksgiving turkey. Those wires feel way too good inside of you, dragging across your clit with ease and squirming between your folds like miniature tentacles. The whole ordeal is akin to a consensual hentai experience with no need to yamete kudasai him; he can gauge your reaction on his own. After all, as the Intelligence Officer, deciphering body language is a must.

If you're letting Airachnid eat you out, you have no survival instincts. I'm not saying you're an idiot, but you're widely overestimating her “kindness”. Let's all take a moment of silence for the fallen valves of innocent Cybertronians. If and only if she has the barest sliver of empathy, she's going to torture your pussy until you're a crying mess caught in her web, without turning you into her newest trophy once the deed is done. At least not a dead trophy, because once she gets her servos on your squishy little human body, you belong to her, a hypothetical deal with spider Satan in exchange for the best head of your life. She's cruel in every sense of the word, but her talent at pushing you to the brink of insanity leaves you willing to risk everything, including your genitals, in this one sided power dynamic. Bound in her web, she delights in ghosting her digits over your throat, pushing down just enough to remind you of your place in this bargain. She can end your precious organic life whenever she pleases, mixing fear with pleasure as she presses her lips to your pussy.

Breakdown is a special case, always has been. Among the vast majority of Decepticons, he doesn't aim to make you beg, nor to destroy your sense of self with his glossa. He's just… a guy, completely normal next to the others, and this, ironically enough, makes him stand out. He's good at what he does, not mind-blowing by any means, just average. He has practiced enough with valves and made his partners overload plenty of times. A pussy is small, sure, but he's had minicons before, you're in safe servos here; and he’s not rusty at it either, he's one of the very few Cybertronians on Earth who frags on the regular (in no small thanks to Knock Out). Contrary to what his status indicates, he's more than just the “smash your opponents into scrap” soldier. It feels nice to lower his inner walls around someone other than his partner. There’s a major difference between the self-assured intimidation he wants to exude and the softness he craves. As such, shows exceptional gentleness handling you, cupping you in his huge servos or, if you're a daredevil, holding your hips with two massive digits as you grind your pussy against his intake. 

“Cute,” he thinks as you hump his face like an overly territorial parakeet. You may be a little shit, but you’re his little shit that he pampers and pleasures until you mellow out and relax against his chassis.

Knock Out fucks. End of discussion. He FUCKS. He has fragged on Cybertron, he's fragging on the Nemesis, you cannot stop him. Am I exaggerating? Possibly, but Knock Out is a young Cybertronian with the libido of an unneutered bull, so of course he can eat pussy. Issue is, he's smug about it, teasing you with the tip of his glossa until you beg him to put in some actual effort. He draws out your pleading until you have tears in your eyes, then he grants you the orgasm you've been dying for. Have fun being handled like a particularly juice push pop candy, you must sacrifice your dignity for robot cunnilingus. Knock Out may want you to assume he's a natural at human pussy, but the truth is; he's been googling the topic nonstop like a horny 14 year old on his dad's computer. He actively wants you to believe it’s an effortless task, you have no idea how much time and effort he puts into researching the topic, all for your admiration. Now please, give it to him, especially after all this hard work. Just don’t mention how you glimpsed his internet history.

Calling Megatron intimidating would be an understatement. Sharp denta don’t mesh well with pussy, nor does an ex-gladiator current warlord with your squishy body. But he “begs” to differ. Head from this bitch is the equivalent of sticking your entire hand in the jaws of a rabid rottweiler; you can do nothing but pray he doesn’t bite down. You’re the dumb little fleshling who found itself in his grasp, and he’s not letting go anytime soon. Human pussy is infinitely more fragile than Cybertronian valve, and he makes sure to remind you by skimming his jagged denta over your thighs. You’re caged in his servo, arms squeezed at your sides as you let the tyrant savor you to the last drop, leering down at you with half-lidded optics. He looks like he’s about to bite a chunk out of your private bits, and the fear makes you taste all the sweeter. Unscrupulous as he is, he has no shame stroking his spike during the act, growling between your legs promises of what’s to come. If you’ve survived this long, Megatron values you to a self-indulgent degree. Keep back and let his glossa drag you to the highest highs and the lowest lows, it’s not like you can do anything between those claws. He treats you as he pleases, but what pleases him most is making you cry out and twist in his grasp from overstimulation alone. Humans are so terribly sensitive.

[sunfairiess]

𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 || 𝐣𝐣 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

pairing: jj maybank x fem!routledge!reader

tropes: 3rd person narration | sarah cameron’s pov | childhood best friends to lovers | brother’s best friend | best friend’s sister | fluff | soft boy jj

synopsis: sarah cameron meets her boyfriend’s sister for the first time, and understands what being soulmates means.

warnings: cursing, slightly mention of violence

wc: 2.9k

it’s my first time writing a character x reader (and actually writing a ff in years lmao) so i really hope this turned out well! also, i apologize for any typos or grammar errors but english is not my first language <3

song rec: about you - the 1975 ♡

“c’mon guys, time to go back. it’s starting to freeze out here.” pope said, placing his fishing rod by his side before getting up and walking towards the helm of the boat, kiara following him to keep him some company. he was right: the temperature had started to drop, and honestly he didn’t even know why the pogues decided to go fishing at the end of november.

they were all there, except for the pogue princess as they liked to call her. she was john b’s younger sister, just by one year; and even though she was definitely a pogue down to her core, she actually almost looked like a kook: she was always composed, never drank too much, never even touched a cigarette or a joint, and she worked her ass off every afternoon at the country club to help john b with the bills and to afford a few of the things she liked.

she was smart, kind, the type of girl to lighten up a room with the sound of her laughter. she was also one of the reasons why the ‘no pogue-on-pogue macking‘ rule was made: everyone kind of had a thing for her, and jj maybank was the first in line.

“i seriously regret coming, i think i’m going into hypothermia.” jj said, shuddering a little bit. yes, it was cold, but it wasn’t that cold. jj just liked to be dramatic.

“gosh, you’re such a pussy.” john b laughed, smacking his best friend behind the head. they’ve know each other for more than ten years now. they weren’t friends anymore, they were brothers. they loved and cared for each other very deeply, even if they were acting like jerks most of the time.

as pope started the engine of the hms pogue, ready to go back to the château, john b took his sweatshirt off to pass it to sarah, his new girlfriend. she was a kook, but she was different. she didn’t care about how dissimilar their lives were, she loved spending time with the pogues because they were real. they were amazing friends, they were funny and smart, and the kind of people you could have a serious conversation with. they weren’t superficial like the kooks, and she loved them for this.

she felt a little tap on her leg, catching with her vision her boyfriend’s sweater. she gave john b a smile and slid the blue piece of clothing on. “so, i’m meeting your sister for the first time today, uh. big step.” sarah joked, slightly pushing his arm.

since the first moment they started dating, john b had always talked about how he wanted her to meet his sister. she was the most important person in his life, especially after his dad went missing at sea during a storm. he actually wanted sarah to meet her right away, but she asked him to wait a couple of months, just to see if they were solid about this relationship. “yup, and trust me you’re gonna love her. she’s like a little ball of sunshine, she wouldn’t even hurt a fly.” he said, smiling at the thought how of sweet his sister was with everyone.

“he’s right. i don’t think i’ve even ever seen her mad.” jj stated, shifting his seat from john b’s right to sarah’s left.

“she seems really nice, but i’m not worried about me liking her, because, by what you guys always say about her, i already do. i’m just worried she won’t like me, you know because of the whole pogue-kook thing.”

everyone bursted out laughing at sarah’s words, her face more confused than ever. “what? what did I say?” kiara left pope at the helm of the boat, and went to sit in front of her, crossing her legs together. “you don’t need to worry about that, she doesn’t give a shit about the rivalry. trust me, she looks like she walked out of a cruise brochure. the only thing she wants is to see her brother with someone who makes him happy, which you do, so she’s totally gonna be fine with it.” sarah smiled at her words, feeling a bit more relieved now.

even though pope wasn’t seating next to them, he could still perfectly hear their conversation and see sarah’s tensed body. that’s why he decided to lighten up a bit the discussion. “you know, one time she made jj dress up as a reindeer.” he said getting out a chuckle at the memory of jj dressed as one of santa claus’s reindeers.

kiara followed him with a loud laughter “oh my god it’s true, i almost forgot it.”

sarah gave them an amazed look. she was enjoying this too much to not say anything. “okay, this is actually the funniest thing i’ve ever heard. did you had a red nose like little rudolph, too?” she said with a smirk, turning her head towards jj’s.

“oh shut up, all of you. i only did it because she asked. besides, she looked so happy when i changed into that costume. i would honestly do it again.” jj let out an involontary smile at the thought of y/n. it was like this all the time: wether he wanted it or not, the only thought of y/n made him feel like he was the happiest man on earth, even if he wasn’t. she just had that effect on him.

“god, it’s sickening how whipped you are for my sister.” john b said, mimicking a gag reflex.

jj rolled his eyes at his words. sarah switching her gaze between the two boys sitting one to her left, and the other to her right. she then stopped to look at jj. “wait- you like y/n?”

“like? hell, he loves that girl. he’s been in love with her since he was six. the random hook ups he has? that’s all for show. he only does it to not draw suspicion, since the only girl he’d like to fuck— and sorry john b— is y/n.” pope said, fully exposing his friend’s feelings.

not that jj cared anyway. everyone knew how he felt about her, he didn’t even try to deny it anymore.

“and you’re completely fine with it?“ sarah asked john b, knowing how protective he was when it came to his sister.

“i wasn’t always. first time he told me he loved her? i punched him. not my finest moment but i was kinda mad.” john b replied, slightly chuckling, reminiscing his right fist hitting jj’s jawbone. “i mean, the day before he tells me he sees her as a little sister and then that he wants to sleep with her? hell nah, i wasn’t having that.”

“and what changed your mind?”

“because it’s jj. i know my best friend, and i know how much he cares for her. i knew he was never going to hurt her, i’m actually pretty sure he would die for her.”

sarah nodded along. the look on jj’s face confirming that what john b had just said was a hundred percent true. in that moment a thought crossed her mind, making her think about how what jj and y/n must’ve been something truly special.

“bubba, we’re home.” john b shouted, as he opened the château’s door. the house was silent, except for a light melody coming from the bathroom and the sound of the shower running. “shower! be right there!” sarah heard y/n shout back, as every one of the pogues sat on the couch: her ending up between her boyfriend and kiara, next to who was seated pope; and a bit far away from them jj. she figured he left the space empty for y/n.

about ten minutes later, while the pogues were having a conversation about an upcoming party at the boneyard, a sixteen year old girl came out of the bathroom, wearing a pink sweater and long white sweatpants. white socks at her feet and long wet hair cascading down her back. she walked up to them, bending slightly to place a kiss on her brother’s cheek, and proceeding to do the same with all the others.

she then retraced her steps and stopped in front of sarah. “so you’re the reason why my brother stopped being a cranky old lady.” she smiled, offering her her right hand. “i’m y/n, it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“sarah. it’s a pleasure to meet you too, john b’s always talking about you.” sarah replied, shaking her hand. y/n let out a small laugh, as she walked towards the end of the couch were jj was seated.

she plopped down next to him, tucking her legs under her bottom and leaning into him. he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer and gently leaving a kiss to the side of her head. “he’s always talking about you too. i swear the other night he woke me up around 3am just to tell me how amazing your date was. which, don’t get me wrong, i was very happy to hear about.”

“you literally throw a pillow in my face.” john b said.

“duh, because you woke me at 3 fucking a.m. i love you bird, but for gods sakes let a girl sleep.” she replied, making everyone laugh at her comment.

the conversation resumed pretty quickly, this time through with jj paying way less attention to it, more focused on the girl next to him.

the entire evening, between laughters and bottles of beers, sarah observed how jj and y/n were always caught up in their whole world. jj’s hands being constantly on her body, wether it was a arm around her shoulders or his hand on her leg. they were glued to each other, sometimes even whispering between them words only they could catch.

for the second time that day, sarah thought about how jj and y/n’s bond was special, going beyond simple friendship.

it was almost two a.m. when kie and pope left, both returning to their respective houses to avoid their parents storming out on them. sarah instead was going to spend the night there, so since jj and john b were on the front porch smoking a joint, obviously a jj’s idea, she and y/n were the only two people moving around the living room, cleaning up the mess of empty beer bottles and pizza boxes.

the whole night she noticed how jj and y/n acted around each other, so since they were now alone, she just felt like she had to ask. “so what’s the deal between you and jj?”

“there’s no deal, we’re friends.” y/n said calmly.

“bullshit, i noticed the way you look at him and how he looks at you. that’s the look of love, sweetie.” sarah decided not to mention how jj actually felt about her. it wasn’t her place to say tell the truth.

“nah, jj would never go for someone like me. he only sees me as a little sister, besides i’m not even his type.” she replied, giving her a kind smile, even though she felt like a lump was stuck right down her throat. y/n always knew she wasn’t the kind of girl jj would want, the were total polar opposites, and truthfully she never even considered herself that much beautiful to have a chance with him.

“since when jj has a type? doesn’t he hits on every breathing human being?” sarah knew this probably wasn’t the right thing to say, but sometimes people needed a little push to blurt out their feelings. to her surprise though, y/n laughed, most likely because she knew how their friend had a habit of flirting with almost every girl he met. it didn’t matter if they were pogues or tourons, or hell even kooks sometimes. a pretty girl is a pretty girl, doesn’t matter where she comes from.

“kinda, but he always hooks up with victoria-secrets-models type of girls, if you get what i mean. and apart from that, we want different things. he doesn’t do relationships and i don’t do random hook ups. not to mention how the possibility of me and jj being together would probably give an aneurysm to my brother.”

“eh, i wouldn’t be so sure about that, ya know. either way though, you like him, don’t you?“ sarah said, remembering the conversation she and the other guys had on the boat.

busted. y/n stayed silent, sailing her lips in a thin, straight line. she then closed her eyes and took a deep breath, getting ready to spill everything out. she figured it was time to tell the truth anyway, since sarah clearly figured everything out.

“i met jj when i was four, we were in kindergarten and some older boys were picking on me. i was smaller and basically on the edge of tears, until i saw this blonde boy running towards me and putting himself between us. even if he was younger than them he still took my defense. after that he walked me home and told me he was a friend of john b’s. since that day, i don’t think i’ve ever liked someone that wasn’t him.“

she took a small pause, just to catch her breath. but she was so caught up in narrating the whole story, that she didn’t notice john b and jj leaning against the doorframe.

jj’s eyes almost bursting out of his face at her words, not expecting to hear her confession. john b, very aware of how his best friend was going to lose his shit any minute now, he places his finger against his mouth, mimicking him to shut up.

“as we grew older the roles kinda reversed and i started to look out for him: when he would come here bruised because of his father i would hug him and clean him up; even if younger than him i helped him study, you know just avoiding he would fail some subjects. at night, dad used to let him sleep next to me or john b because he didn’t want to be alone, thing that of course dad prohibited when i turned twelve. that didn’t stop him though: he would sneak out as soon as john b would fall asleep and come under the covers with me.”

she let out a laugh. “would sir. freud love this? probably yes, but it doesn’t matter. he deserves someone that cares for him, everyone does. and it’s not pity or mercy, i genuinely want to be there for him, because he deserves the best. yet, because of his father he’s convinced he’s worthless, but he’s not. gosh, he’s so funny and smart, which i know sounds weird but he is. he would die for his friends and cares so much for us. and i’m sure he could make it out of obx if only he wanted to. and he’s always so supportive and gen-“

she could’ve kept going on, but she suddenly noticed the two boys staring right up at her. jj’s eyes were watery, like he was going to cry any second now. he didn’t cry much, only when really fucked up things happened in his life, but for the first time he felt like crying not because he was sad and tired but because he was happy. because finally he could’ve had something great going on in his life. he could’ve had her.

without saying anything he launched himself into y/n’s arms, letting her stumble back due to the rushed impact between their bodies. he hold her tight, his arms around her waist and hers around his neck. his face placed in the space between her shoulder and her neck, breathing in the smell of the coconut soap she always used. he didn’t care about sarah and john b still being in the room, he wouldn’t even care if a freaking zebra walked in the house. she was the only thing that mattered. she was his whole universe.

“you shouldn’t eavesdrop, maybank.” she said with a smirk, putting a bit of distance between their bodies so she could look at him in the face, but still managing to play with the of hair at the nape of his neck.

“did you actually mean it? like for real?”

“every word, jay. you know me, i would never lie to you.”

jj maybank was impulsive. half of the time he never thought before acting, which pretty much resulted in him dealing with the aftermath of his stupid decisions. that’s why he didn’t think twice in grabbing y/n’s face with his hands, pressing his lips against hers.

at first he felt her stiffening, probably surprised by his gesture, and for a moment he really thought he had just screwed everything up. but then her hands went to his shirt, yanking him even closer if possible, and he sensed her relaxing, her lips moving against his.

after what seemed like hours, he pulled back, only because they both needed air. if it was up to him, he would’ve spent hours kissing her without getting a break.

“i’ve been loving you for a long time, princess.” she smiled, her cheeks almost hurting because of all the happiness she was feeling.

“well, you’re very lucky then, because i’ve been loving you for a long time too.”

“i can’t watch this, i think i’m gonna throw up.”

sarah nudged her elbow into her boyfriend stomach, giving him a look that said ‘shut the fuck up or i’m killing you’. john b raised his hands in the air, admitting defeat.

and, as they watched jj starting to kiss y/n again, sarah thought of how her own relationship was truly amazing. but in her opinion? what y/n and jj had was the true definition of soulmates.

[cobaltperun]

Jerks With Hearts of Gold - Work For It

Request: Tara Carpenter x Female Reader

Summary: The first kiss should not be this difficult to get, yet nothing is ever easy for Tara Carpenter.

Masterlist / Side story of this request

Word count: 2.7k

She could no longer deny it, she could no longer fight it, and she hated every single thing about it. Except she didn't actually hate it, she absolutely loved it, only she would never admit it, especially to anyone other than herself.

Tara Carpenter was in love with a jerk.

How could this have happened? Sure, she wanted to live her life, set aside everything that's happened while being comfortably cautious about which people she let in, but she did not expect to let the biggest jerk of them all in. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she took it not just a step, but a fucking marathon further by falling in love with you. So, there Tara was, lying on her bed facing the ceiling and glaring at it as if she had your face painted right on it. She might as well have it painted there, because that's all she could see when she closed her eyes. Your smiling face, that stupid grin when you prove her wrong, or when you get the upper hand in a debate, or when you just annoy the living hell out of her.

“Jerk,” she muttered as she looked through window that was somehow facing the direction you were in. Of course, you were far away, too far for her to even see your neighborhood from her window, let alone your apartment, but just the fact that she knew she would be looking in the direction of your apartment if she looked outside her window infuriated her. Why did you have to be so good to her? You stopped smoking just for her, and that really was the true start of her downfall. But you couldn’t stop there, could you? Ever since she opened up about the attacks she survived you've been crazy attentive to everything she was feeling, noticing even the minute details about her mood shifts.

Somehow, despite only knowing you for a relatively short period of time, Tara was absolutely certain you wouldn’t turn out to be a Ghostface. Maybe worse than even that was how sure Tara was that if she confessed and you returned her feelings that the two of you would just stay together. That you would never break her trust or her heart.

And that just made her afraid that one day she would do that to you. Because there was that feeling deep inside of her, that thought that maybe she did ruin everything she touched, and that she just wouldn’t know how to let you love her.

Yet at the same time, Tara knew she wanted that kind of love, that almost unconditional love, more than she wanted anything in the world. So, Tara picked up her phone and sent you a message.

~X~

You were bored beyond what you imagined was humanly possible. You were so bored you might actually consider doing schoolwork that was still far from the deadline. That's how bored you were. You weren't in the mood for a movie or some new TV show or a new book or anything that would reasonably take more than a few hours to finish, but you also weren't in the mood to go out and have fun, or go to a stupid party if Tara wasn’t there, or anything of that nature.

Luckily, just as you were about to lament on your ruined night, your phone rang and you jumped to your feet cheering loudly that there was even a smidge of distraction to be had tonight.

You placed your palms together in front of your face praying to whatever higher being that might exist. “Please be Tara, please be Tara, please let me annoy her tonight!” because you would not be that desperate to actually send the message first. Not after sending the first message four times in a row.

You plucked your phone off your charger and the screen lit up and you pumped your fist at your side. “Yes!” you exclaimed. It was Tara. “Oh, I love this girl!” your eyes widened when you said that.

Well, you did love her, and you knew that, and you knew how you loved her, how much, and how intensely. But you haven't really said it out loud and with that sudden realization the urge to annoy her faded away and you just opened the message she just sent you.

Tara: Let's meet up tomorrow

Please I'm bored

Well, that was direct and right to the point, just the way Tara always was, and you grinned like a fool because you would get to see her tomorrow instead of waiting for the next week's classes. So, you replied with a simple ‘Of course! Usual time usual place?’

It took Tara less than a minute to reply, and you've never thought a simple ‘yes’ would make you this happy.

You walked back to the bed and just fell on top of it, still grinning. You loved this girl. You loved her so damn much and she didn't even know it and maybe, just maybe you could confess tomorrow. Just see how it goes. At least you won't be painfully stuck in friendzone and things would be clear, you would know if you should give up on these feelings or if you would just have to wait for some time until she got more comfortable. You understood perfectly well just how difficult opening up would be for Tara, and all you really wanted was to know if there was even the slightest chance that she might one day reciprocate your feelings.

~X~

She must have done something right lately because all of a sudden and without even considering all of those things Tara ended up being really lucky. First of all, she didn't have classes today, Sam was working, and all of her friends had classes, so no one was free to hang out with her. Not even Chad and he was the most relaxed about classes out of all of them. At least before the exams, once the exams were going then he was the one worrying the most.

That would probably be something you and Chad could bond over. You had the same annoying nonchalant approach before the exams only to completely flip it once exams actually started. She still smiled, because somehow, despite everything, she found that endearing.

The usual spot was your code of sorts, for a small secluded spot in the park that Tara found when she first came to New York, back when she felt the need to escape from everything and pretend she was just a normal teenager. And you came to appreciate the spot as well, so instead of hanging out in a café bar or some other place, one of you would get the drinks and the other some snacks and you just go and sit at the park. And it worked well, because not only was it a nice place where she could breathe easier, but it had designated spots for picnic, so that was just another plus in its own way.

Her heart was hammering in her chest as she walked through the park toward the place where you would meet up. The basket filled with your favorite food felt a lot heavier than it really was. You weren't really a flowers kind of girl, or rather Tara wasn't, she just felt that would be a bit too on the nose and she wants to be a bit subtle about everything. Although… There was nothing subtle about being twenty minutes early.

She picked a good spot for the picnic. The one with a nice shade, far enough from the people walking through the park, and light fresh breeze blowing through her hair bringing in the scent of the flowers blooming in the park.

“Guess we are both early,” Tara jumped when she heard your voice and flipped around to see you standing there sheepishly rubbing the back of your head, all the while holding a bag filled with a couple of bottles of probably juice if she had to guess. You were kind of boring like that, not really consuming alcohol, but she guessed that would make Sam like you more because you weren't some party animal.

“Damn it, you scared me!” Tara put her hand over her chest trying to calm her heart rate down. Getting scared was not one of her plans for the day!

Your eyes widened and immediately she could see the guilt on your face. “I'm sorry! I should have texted you or something, I just didn't want you to rush if you weren't here and-“ you facepalmed, you didn’t forget about anything, you just got eager to see her and she wasn’t expecting you. “God, I'm such a fool for scaring you like that!” there you were being the caring, gentle dumbass she fell in love with.

Tara smiled widely, unable to restrain her reaction. “Hey, it's fine, come on, let's just sit down and start this again, OK? Shit, look at us,” Tara laughed as you joined her, still looking at her apologetically. “We're like two teenagers trying to go on their first date instead of hanging out as friends,” she chastised herself and you to an extent because you were both nervous and she couldn't wrap her head around why you were nervous. She was the one who intended to confess her love for you… unless…

No, that couldn't be right.

The two of you knelt down on the blanket and began taking things out of the bag you brought, and the basket Tara brought. “You really went all out! And it's all homemade!” you commented, and Tara just knew you could see the blush on her face.

You only complimented her cooking, once granted she only cooked for you once, and ever since then has been practicing, wanting to impress you once more.

“I just grabbed the leftovers,” of course she wasn’t going to tell you the truth. She would die of embarrassment if that happened, but you knew, you probably knew every single time she uttered a ridiculous lie just to save face.

You snorted at that. “Of course, of course, I wouldn't dare to imply the great Tara Carpenter would prepare food for an occasion this beneath her,” you laughed and despite the joke you just said something just didn't feel right about it. It annoyed Tara more than she ever imagined it would. She just hated that there was a certain sense of self-deprecation within your voice.

So, Tara reached up, grabbed you by the chin and pulled you closer. “Don't you dare ever think that,” she leaned in, intending to kiss you and get all of this confession bullshit out of the way, and just show you how she felt instead. But then you smirked and pulled away from her and her hand was just left hanging in the air, empty, while her lips remained stuck, slightly pursed as she intended to kiss you.

“Work for it, Carpenter,” you did not just say that. You did not just deny her of the kiss she wanted for so damn long.

“What the fuck?!” Tara just stared. You actually did that to her. “Work for it? How do I- I mean- You know-“ she paused, taking a deep breath. “Was I reading this all wrong,” she gestured between the two of you. “And you actually don’t feel the same way? Y/N, I can take it if you don't feel the same way, I'm not some-“

You interrupted her by placing the tip of your finger on her lips and snickering and now she was just confused. “I do feel the same way, I love you too, Tara,” you said it so easily even if she didn't, even if she wasn't all that sure she could say those three words anytime soon, despite how genuinely she felt them. “I just want you to work for the kiss. You've been a pain in my eyes for so long, I deserve this!” you laughed and took a bite of the sandwich she so carefully prepared, choosing all the ingredients you loved, and here you were saying she had to work for the kiss.

“What do you even mean by work? How?! Tell me how?!” she demanded red in the face from the anger and the embarrassment and because she was denied of what she wanted and like a petulant child that was suddenly rejected she was just about ready to throw a tantrum.

And that wasn't like her. She was denied so many things as a child, it wasn't in her nature to throw a temper tantrum, yet with you she really felt like that. She felt like the way you were loving her, even when you were just friends, was allowing that child within her to come out for perhaps the first time in her entire life.

“Ask for it, you can’t just take it,” you winked at her. “Come on, now, Tara, all you have to do is ask,” oh, you were enjoying this. You got your victory. You knew she felt the same way that you did before you even uttered a single word and here you were eating it all up like the menace you were.

“I'm just not gonna do it,” Tara pouted and refused to look at you even if she knew you would just shrug and keep eating the sandwich.

“Whatever works for you,” you were being way too nonchalant about this and she should have been elated that you felt the same way that she did, but this was infuriating in so many ways. Of course it had to be like this with you it couldn't be just an easy, simple confession, followed by a soft kiss, followed by a passionate kiss that would threaten to consume both of you. No, it had to be this complicated and difficult because that's who you were and that's who she was. She was Tara fucking Carpenter and every single thing in her life just had to be complicated.

Well not this time.

“Let me kiss you,” she leaned in and you burst out laughing backing away once more not allowing her to claim her reward.

“That's not how you ask, dumbass,” you just laughed and sure, fine, she could play that game too.

“I want to kiss you,” you were still leaning away and she faked a smile, speaking through gritted teeth. “Come on, Y/N, people are watching. They're looking at me leaning closer to you and you are not working with me here,” she was working hard for it and she had the right to her hard-earned reward.

“Not the magic word, Tara,” surely you weren't going to make her actually ask for it! You loved her back, why was this so complicated! She even licked her lips to tempt you, and she saw you looking down on her lips, she knew you wanted to kiss her as well! You just weren't giving in.

Fuck…

“Please, can I kiss you?” there. She asked. You smiled and didn't back away as she leaned in and that was all she needed to just go in and press her lips against yours for a heated, passionate kiss. And when she pulled back, she truly was rewarded by getting to see you being a stuttering, embarrassed mess. “Cat got your tongue?” she asked and stuck her own tongue at you, the tongue that was mere seconds ago inside of your mouth because of course she couldn't go for a soft kiss for the very first kiss. She had to be intense with everything that's included.

Especially with this because you deserved to be loved just as intensely as you loved her.

Safe to say you failed to construct a proper sentence for the next twenty or so minutes. Frankly she was impressed it only took you that long to get your composure back and actually start putting words together in a way that made sense.

[ashwhowrites]

Man I always have the best ideas for your requests and then the moment I see they’re open it’s like no thoughts only smooth brain.

Can I request where reader is friends with both Eddie and Steve, they become a little trio. Reader is attracted to both of them but keeps it secret because she doesn’t want to mess up the dynamic, doesn’t know how she’d pick when she loves them both. Eddie and Steve both really like her but their situation is complicated. They’ve been secretly together for a little bit but both agree they want reader. It’s just how do you spring that on someone and if they refuse not make everything weird? (Plus, people are really judgmental about same sex dating and alternative dating etc.) They both actively flirt with her, treat her right, they think they’ll actually reveal if she confesses to liking one of them. They all go out together as they normally do but there is a lot more teasing flirting from both boys to her. She says goodbye to them at the end of the night but is so keyed up from the flirting and what not she has to have an answer. She is intent on telling them that she likes them both and doesn’t know what to do. Except She catches them messing around? (Cause obviously they liked the flirting a lot too.) She’s super embarrassed and lowkey a little sad that they kept the relationship from her and that if they’re together they won’t want to be with her. But then Eddie and Steve confess and happy fluffy sexy ending.

Thank youuuuuu I love you mwah

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

⚠️little bit of smut

Flirting game

Y/N dreamed about the day she'd fall in love ever since she was young, how her heart would race from eye contact and plan a future by their side. She didn't expect how hard it would be to be in love with two different people.

Y/N, Steve, and Eddie had been close friends and didn't spend much time apart. It was easy for them to get along, and they barely had boundaries. Everything in their life was shared and secrets didn't exist. Well, that was a small lie.

Y/N was head over heels for Steve. She felt it was obvious since she could never keep her cool around him. She craved to run her hands through his hair, feeling how soft and silky it was. His sweet compliments paired with his smile made her stomach do flips. He was softer than Eddie, offering a comforting shoulder. He listened to all her feelings and made her feel accepted.

To make it more complicated, she was in love with Eddie too. His long hair and boyish charm never failed to make her heart race. His dirty jokes warmed her cheeks. His rough exterior always had her attention and she wanted his attention on her.

She felt tugged between the two. Steve pulled one arm and Eddie pulled the other, and she wasn't sure who she wanted to win. Her plan was to suffer in silence until one of them made a move, but one night got too hard to walk away from.

~

"Steve this place is amazing," Y/N said in awe as she walked around Steve's newly owned apartment. Eddie nodded as he sipped on his can of beer, walking behind her.

Steve smiled as he handed her a glass of wine. "Thank you, there's one place I want you to see." Y/N was intrigued, blushing to herself when Steve ran his fingers down her arm and moved to hold her hand. Eddie smirked as he stood behind, sharing a look with Steve.

Y/N let Steve lead her blindly, enjoying the feeling of his hand in hers. Steve walked her down the hall and stopped, a smirk on his face as he opened the door.

She looked in the room, expecting something exciting but all she saw was a bed and boxes. "What is it?" she asked, not understanding what he wanted to show her.

"It's my bedroom," Steve said, his hand still in hers. She looked at him confused, and then she felt Eddie's body pressed against her back. She held her breath as he moved his nose against her neck, her eyes locked on Steve.

"You know what happens in a bedroom right, baby girl?" Eddie whispered into her ear. She tried to cover the fact that her insides were burning as she stood between them. Steve moved closer until his body crashed against hers.

"Don't look so scared, love," Steve chuckled, pushing up her head as he placed a finger under her chin, "The bedroom is for sleeping." Eddie and Steve moved away at the same time, allowing air to move through her lungs. Their touch was gone and she felt cold air wash over her. She stood in shock and confusion as the boys walked down the hall. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out what happened.

"Coming?" Eddie asked from down the hall. She turned around and nodded, quickly walking towards him.

They worked on putting away boxes for the next few hours. Steve's apartment slowly came together as more drinks were shared. Building up an appetite, Steve ordered pizzas declaring they'd take a break for food.

"Since I have no table, the floor it is!" Steve said cheerfully as he sat on the ground. Y/N held her third glass of wine as she took the spot across from him, and then Eddie joined after. Steve and Eddie's knees touched and Eddie's knee touched hers, all connected in a way.

They talked among themselves as they ate. Y/N listened closely as Steve talked, watching his lips form the words. She was so zoned in on him that she didn't realize she dripped sauce down her chin, but Eddie noticed.

When Steve finished his sentence, Eddie reached over gaining her attention when he swiped his thumb over her chin. She jolted in surprise, her eyes on Eddie as he cleaned up the sauce. She was stunned by the small intimate touch, staring in awe when Eddie slipped his sauced thumb into his mouth. He soaked in her stare, giving her a wink. She quickly looked away, gulping down the rest of her wine.

Eddie excused himself to the bathroom and Y/N breathed a sigh of relief. With her body warm and brain in overdrive, she stood up to grab water from the kitchen.

Steve followed, walking quietly enough that she didn't know he was there. She opened the fridge and let the cold plastic soak into her skin. She took a few sips as she calmed herself down. She turned around and her back was pressed against the fridge. Steve looked down at her with a smile, loving the way her breathing picked up.

"Are you feeling okay? You look a bit warm," Steve said reaching his hand out and pressing it against her forehead.

"Um, yeah. I think I need some rest, though," she said, needing a break from the way these boys were throwing her around. Steve clicked his tongue, and his hand moved down to her neck. She held her breath as he leaned in, his face inches from hers. She couldn't help but look down at his lips, wanting to lean in. Steve's lips formed into a smirk, and he backed away, his touch no longer lingering on her skin.

"Do you need a ride?"

"No!" Y/N knew she wasn't going to survive a car ride with him. "I can drive."

She grabbed her keys and practically ran to the door, saying goodbye to Eddie as he approached.

"She's leaving?" Eddie asked, watching as the door closed.

"Yep. But I think our plan is working," Steve smiled walking over to Eddie.

"Then why won't she just admit something?" Eddie groaned. It's been months of the cat-and-mouse game, and he wanted it to end.

Steve wrapped his arm around Eddie's slim waist, bringing the boy against his chest. "She will, I know she will." Eddie rolled his eyes as he lost patience.

"In the meantime, we can enjoy what the little show does to us," Steve flirted, placing a hand on Eddie's chest. Eddie smirked as Steve's hand slid down his body, landing on the button of his jeans.

"Yeah? Turns you on working her up like that?" Eddie teased. Steve unbuttoned his jeans, sliding his hand inside. Eddie shivered as Steve teased him over his boxers, the touch setting him on fire.

Steve pressed his lips against Eddie's, moving his hand inside Eddie's boxers to wrap around his cock. Eddie moaned into his mouth, diving his hands into Steve's hair. Eddie slid his tongue into Steve's mouth, their tongues massaging against each other. Steve moved his hand up and down on Eddie's cock, twisting near his tip forcing his pre cum to drip out. Steve smeared the pre cum along Eddie's length, using it to help jerk him off.

~

Y/N was halfway home when she turned around. The heat between her legs reminded her how badly she wanted them. Even though she was scared as hell to tell them the truth, she made her way back to Steve's.

Her head was all over the place and she had no idea what she would say but kept moving forward. She dug out the spare key Steve gave her and let herself in. The house seemed empty but she knew they were there somewhere.

She walked down the hall towards the bedroom, freezing when she heard the sound of moans. She gulped as she went to step back, not wanting to intrude on Steve's private time. But a part of her wanted to see, she wanted to see Steve moaning out curious of what was making him feel so good. She stepped forward, peeking her head in the open doorframe.

Eddie and Steve were naked and tangled in Steve's sheets. Their naked chests pressed against each other as Steve pushed himself in and out of Eddie. Their moans meet each other in the air between them. Y/N stood in shock. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. She never thought anything was going on between them, hell she didn't even know they were gay. She felt hurt that they kept this from her and that her feelings didn't matter anymore.

She turned to sneak out but her step caused a loud creek to echo throughout the hallway. The boys froze and looked towards the door, catching Y/N's stunned expression. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Then she booked it, running down the hall. Steve and Eddie called out to her, quickly scrambling out of bed and throwing on their underwear as they ran after her.

By the time they reached her, she was staring at the door, trying to decide whether she wanted to leave.

"Y/N..."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let myself in," she apologized. She turned around and took them in. Their sex hair, Eddie's marked chest, and Steve's bruised lips.

"It's okay," Steve coughed, "can we talk about what you saw?"

Y/N nodded and hugged herself. "Are you guys...together?"

"Yeah, for almost four months now," Eddie answered.

"Four months?" She screeched, she dropped her arms in shock. "Why didn't you guys tell me? Did you think I wouldn't accept you?" She accused.

"NO!" Steve rushed, "It's just we are so used to hiding so we hide from everyone."

"So was all the flirting to throw me off? Make sure I believe you're straight? Because that's fucking shitty! You played with my feelings!" Y/N cried, getting so frustrated that tears began to fly down her cheeks.

"No, baby. It is nothing like that," Eddie said softly. He slowly walked up to her, and she allowed him to touch her arm. "We weren't playing with your feelings or using you. We meant the flirting, we were hoping if we made advances towards you that you would tell us how you felt about us."

"How I feel about yo-ouu...b-both?" she stuttered. Did they already know? She looked between the two with fear in her eyes.

"We are both interested in you. We both have strong feelings for you." Steve confessed. Y/N was stunned by their confession. All the time she hoped they'd look her way, and they truly were.

"What do you feel about us?" Eddie asked, leaning closer to the shaky girl. He smiled as he cupped her cheek, landing a soft kiss on her cheek. "Just tell us," he whispered, his lips leading down to her neck.

She gasped in pleasure, and her eyes met Steve over Eddie's shoulder. Eddie continued to kiss her neck as Steve stared into her eyes.

"I want to be with both of you," she moaned out, Eddie's teeth sinking into her neck. Steve smiled at the confession and walked towards them. He walked around her, his naked chest to her back as he pressed his lips to the open side of her neck.

Y/N shivered as both of their lips pressed against her skin, her eyes closing as their hands began to work up and down her body.

"Let us show you how much we want you," Eddie whispered.

"Please," she moaned.

"Our pleasure, baby girl," Steve whispered against her skin.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123 @emxxblog

[certaimromance]

ꫂ ၴႅၴ Tall Child.

Aaron Hotchner x BAU!reader (platonic)

Summary: No matter how hard you try to impress him, Agent Hotchner never seems to be satisfied with your work. And it all comes crashing down when you decide to confront him.

Words: 2,7k.

TW: mentions of crime. reader was injured (nothing serious). angst WITHOUT happy ending. hotch being a father figure. soo much angst (yes, again). father and rebellious daughter type discussion. temporarily located in the first season. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: He is so ❤️‍🔥daddy❤️‍🔥 but also 💔dad💔 for me, okay?

This was painful to write, so I loved it (I literally wrote it with I Bet On Losing Dogs by Mitski in the background).

♡ Enjoy! ♡

Anyone who knows you knows that your lifelong dream was to help make the world a better place.

And from your day one at the BAU, you felt like your wildest dreams had come true. You were saving lives, reassuring victims, and helping to bring to justice those who tormented them so they could never do it to anyone else again. You were making a real difference in the world, even if you weren't the caped superhero you wanted to be as a kid.

But, as they say, nothing's perfect. And your job had more contradictions for your mental and physical health than there were fingers on your hands to count. The long and unstable schedule, the few hours of sleep, nightmares about the atrocities you saw, no social life outside the team...and of course, the constant disappointment you felt from Aaron Hotchner, your boss.

From day one, you had worked tirelessly to prove yourself. You craved the approval of your superiors, the respect of your colleagues. The job was demanding, yes, but you wanted to show that you could not only handle it but thrive under the pressure. And you had earned the trust and admiration of everyone around you, except for him.

Agent Hotchner was an enigma to you. There was something about him that both intrigued and intimidated you. He was always so calm, without showing much emotion, without so much as a smile for you. He was a wall you couldn't break through no matter how hard you tried. You had tried so hard to impress him, to make sure he saw your dedication, your work ethic, but you always seemed to fall short. His approval, or lack thereof, hurt more than anything else. You had gotten used to it by now, but it didn't make it any easier.

And now, here you were, in his office, watching him scrutinize your medical diagnosis. He had just glanced at the report from the doctor that had followed you back from the Utah case. Your shoulder, a minor injury, but one that could’ve been avoided if you hadn’t thrown yourself headfirst into the danger in the way you did.

Finally, after several moments of awkward silence, you dared to speak. “What do you think? I am practically at my best.”

Deep down, you knew you were lying through your teeth and that you were not well with an injured shoulder, a concussion, and several bruises, but you refused to say so out loud. You were a brave girl, and he should know.

Hotch looked up from the report in his hand and stared at you. It was the kind of look that made your hair stand on end and gave you a feeling that something was wrong.

“No, you're not.” He sighs and closes the folder before walking over to the desk you were sitting behind. He leans against it as he looks at you, arms folded across his chest. “You disobeyed a direct order during the case. You abandoned your partner.”

“I didn’t abandon Reid,” you replied, your voice sounding more defensive than you intended. You straightened in your chair, wincing slightly as your shoulder protested the movement. “I simply suggested he wait behind me. And it worked, didn’t it? He saved the victim, and I stopped the unsub.”

Teamwork, as you liked to call it.

“It paid off this time,” he said, his voice low but firm. “But that doesn’t excuse disregarding protocol. You put yourself and your partner in unnecessary danger. That’s not the kind of decision-making we can afford here.”

Oh no, here comes the usual chatter you didn't want to hear this time. Normally, you would be quiet, listening and nodding at his every word, but this time there was something different. You just longed for congratulations. Was it really so difficult for him to tell you once that you did something right?

You stiffened in your chair, the ache in your shoulder suddenly more pronounced. “With all due respect, I evaluated the situation and made a hard decision. I’m not some rookie who doesn’t know how to handle themselves in the field.”

Even as the words came out, you felt very nervous. You didn't know if it was the drugs they gave you in the hospital to fight the pain or if it was just your shyness leaving your body completely for no reason.

“I’m not questioning your skills,” he replied sharply. “But you’re not operating at one hundred percent, and that affects your judgment. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard for months—longer, maybe. And now you’re injured. You need time to recover and think about this.”

God, no.

“I don’t need time; I need to work,” you shot back, frustration lacing your tone. This job was your lifeline, your purpose. Without it, who were you?

“You know we work as a team. A unit. And when one part of the unit breaks down, there are consequences.” His voice wasn’t just firm; it was unyielding, like a warning. The way he said it almost felt like he was speaking to a child—a reprimand you didn’t want but knew you had earned. “No one is above the team, not even you.”

You didn't know if it was the way he said it or the words he used, but it was like the straw that broke the camel's back, and you were tired of putting up with the situation. This was the first time you had made a decision on your own, the first time you had not discussed your ideas with the team only to have them ignored and then spoken louder by someone else. Finally, you had acted, and even that was wrong.

You were tired, fucking tired of being ignored and judged much more harshly than the rest.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, barely audible but heavy with frustration. The ache in your shoulder seemed to flare as if your body was responding to the tension in the room. “And what consequences are you thinking of, sir?” you asked, your voice dripping with sarcasm. There was no hiding the venom now. “What’s worse than not being valued even when I do my job?”

His gaze turned hard as if your tone had cut him deeper than any physical injury could. He didn’t take kindly to disrespect, especially from someone who had otherwise followed his orders without question. You saw the shift in him, the quiet fury simmering beneath his usually controlled exterior. If you were anyone else, the conversation would have already escalated. But you weren’t anyone else. You were someone he knew far too well.

“Don’t use that tone with me,” he bit back, his voice low and steady but carrying a weight that made your stomach twist. There was no mistake now—this wasn’t just about the case. This was more personal. “You are suspended. Your gun and badge on the table. Now.”

Oh, oh, oh.

The words hung in the air between you like a guillotine, sudden and final. The room seemed to close in on you, the breath in your chest catching in surprise. You didn’t know if it was the shock or the disbelief, but your mind struggled to grasp the magnitude of his command. Suspended? Your world was spinning.

You opened your mouth to speak, to argue, but the words caught in your throat, leaving you with nothing but a hollow sound of confusion. “What? Why?”

“Agent, you disobeyed a direct order and endangered yourself and your partner,” he said firmly. “I don’t take your actions lightly. Suspension is not a punishment—it’s a consequence. You need time to heal, both physically and mentally.”

The idea of being sidelined was incomprehensible. The thought of doing nothing—being stuck in your apartment, forced to be still—felt suffocating. No. You couldn’t accept it.

“This is ridiculous. I did my job! I stopped the unsub! Reid saved the victim because I made the right choice!”

You saved a life, even if it meant risking a little of your own. You did save it.

“And what happens next time?” Hotch shot back, his voice rising slightly. “What happens if your judgment falters again because you’re running on empty? What if next time, it’s Reid who doesn’t come back?”

Then, silence.

The thought of Spencer getting hurt turned your stomach and made you question your actions. If anything happened to him, you would never forgive yourself…His life did matter, a lot.

“Gun. Badge. Now.” Your boss talks again. He gestured toward the desk.

Your fingers trembled, betraying you as you reached for the gun on your hip. The cool metal felt foreign in your hands, like something that had never truly belonged to you. Your mind screamed for you to stop, to stand your ground, to fight this. But your body, exhausted and broken, refused to cooperate.

You opened your mouth to speak, but your voice cracked before you could get the words out. “I…I didn’t mean…I just…”

Finally, with a shaky breath, you placed your gun on the desk. The thud it made as it landed felt like the sound of everything you had worked for being shattered in front of you. You could feel the sting of unshed tears burning in your eyes, but you wouldn’t let them fall. Not here. Not in front of him.

It didn’t matter what you said. It never seemed to matter, not with him. You had tried so hard to be the one who did everything right, to be the one he could rely on, and yet all you had earned was this—this cold, final judgment. He wasn’t just your boss in that moment; he was the embodiment of everything you had tried to prove yourself against. A reminder that, no matter what you did, it still wasn’t enough.

The words spilled from your mouth before you could stop them, the bitter taste of them already familiar. “You think I’m weak, don’t you?” The tone you had intended to be defiant came out more like a desperate plea. “You think I can’t handle this, that I’m just some liability?”

He didn’t flinch at your outburst. His gaze softened, but just barely. “No,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle but firm. “I think you’re pushing yourself too hard. You’re not weak. But you’re hurting, and I can see it. You need time to recover.”

The words hit you like a slap, unexpected and unwelcome. You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips as you tried to fight back the burning in your chest. You refused to let the tears well up, to let them gather where he could see them. Not here. Not now. Please, not now.

“I don’t need time,” you said, your voice sharp, biting. But underneath the defiance was something raw and desperate, a quiet plea that you couldn’t fully suppress. “I need to be here. I need to do my job. I need to save lives.”

The last part came out as a whisper, as though saying it too loudly would shatter the fragile conviction you had left. You felt like you were slipping, like the ground beneath you was crumbling, and all you could do was cling to this one thing—the job. The only thing that made you feel like you mattered.

“The only life you need to save now is yours,” he said, his voice quieter but still heavy with authority.

You froze, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a crushing tide. Your stomach churned, and you fought to keep your composure, to keep from lashing out, even though every part of you wanted to scream. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t.

A bitter, trembling laugh bubbled up from your throat, unbidden and full of venom. “If it had been Reid or Morgan, you wouldn’t be doing this,” you snapped, the accusation like a raw wound exposed to the open air.

For the first time, something flickered in his eyes—anger, hurt, or something you couldn’t quite place. His jaw tightened, his posture stiffening, and when he spoke, his voice was sharper than before, each word deliberate and cutting.

“No,” he said, the firmness in his tone slicing through the room like a blade. “Because they would never have done this.”

The silence that followed was deafening. It slammed into you like a tidal wave, drowning out every other sound. His words rang in your ears, echoing in the hollow space left behind by your crumbling defenses.

They would never have done this.

Your chest tightened, a deep ache settling in your ribs, and for a moment, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. The accusation hung in the air, heavy and unforgiving. He wasn’t just saying you’d made a mistake—he was saying you were the mistake. That you weren’t good enough. That you never would be.

“Is this because I’m a woman?” you asked, the words coming out sharper than you intended. There was a bitter edge to them, a question that had been gnawing at you for far too long. “Because Elle is too, and even she has more, or is it because of my age? Reid is younger, and you never doubt him.”

“It’s not about any of that,” he said finally, his voice low and tight. But it wasn’t reassuring. It only sounded like an evasion, like he was brushing your concerns aside, and it made your chest ache all over again. “It’s not about your gender or your age.”

“It’s about me,” you said, the words like glass shards scraping at your insides. “It’s about how you don’t trust me.”

For the first time, you saw a flicker of something in his eyes—something almost like guilt, but it was fleeting, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. He opened his mouth, but the words he spoke next were measured, controlled. Too controlled.

“No,” he said, his voice so steady it almost hurt. “That’s not it.”

You stared at him, heart racing, hands trembling, as the truth wrapped around you tighter than you ever thought possible. His words weren’t just dismissing your feelings—they were rejecting everything you had ever believed about your worth, about why you were here, in this moment, fighting so desperately for something you couldn’t even name.

But this time, it was different. You weren’t going to back down. Not anymore.

“Then what is it?” You whispered, voice breaking, tears finally threatening to spill. “What is it, Hotch? What is it about me that isn’t enough?”

“It’s not about you,” he said, but his voice lacked the certainty it usually held. “It’s not about trusting you…It’s about protecting you.” His gaze softened just enough for you to notice, but it only made the pain worse. “I can’t lose…I can’t let you lose yourself.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You were trembling, your pulse racing in your ears, but now there was only a terrible stillness. You swallowed, trying to push down the bitterness that rose up in your throat.

“You don’t get to make decisions for me,” you snapped, barely holding back the frustration that bubbled to the surface. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for me. You don’t get to act like you’re my father, making me follow some imaginary line, keeping me under your control. If you want to raise someone, you already have a baby at home.”

The moment the words left your lips, you saw it—just the faintest flicker of hurt in his eyes. The barest flinch. But it was enough to make you feel the weight of your accusation like a stone, sinking into your chest. The silence that followed was thick with it, suffocating, and you could feel the air growing heavier between you.

“I’m not your dad,” he said, the words low, the icy calm of his voice unmistakable. There was no anger in it, just a hollow, painful truth. But the sting of it was sharp enough to leave a mark.

You blinked, the sharpness of his response cutting through you like a blade. You wanted to fight back, to lash out with everything you had, but something stopped you. Instead, your voice came out quieter, almost hollow as you whispered, “I know…Do you know that?”

And then, just like that, you turned away, your breath ragged in your chest. You didn’t wait for his answer, didn’t wait for anything. You couldn’t stand the ache that had taken root in your chest, the fear that had begun to take shape in the corners of your mind.

And the door slammed behind you.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Secret Kindness

Summary: Joel Miller x Fe!Reader -> It's no secret Joel Miller could be an asshole, but it was a secret that that wasn't all he could be.

Disclaimer: I haven't finished my re-watch but I wanted to write something for him. Kinda friends to lovers, oblivious idiots in love, descriptions of scars, bruises, cleaning wounds, kinda a 'who did this to you?' trope. Swearing, light spoilers for Field of Dreams? Fluff. Not Proof Read.

It was no secret that Joel Miller could be an asshole. 

From the unspoken stories from his brother, to his treatment of people in general; untrusting, strong dislike, to simply his responses when talking to people. Mostly it was in grunts or short sentences. 

Except, for some reason nobody else could see that Joel wasn’t just an asshole. He could be kind, funny, and deeply caring. That was something you had known from the minute you’d seen him. 

Having arrived in Jackson a month or so after the winter, you had heard stories about Tommy Miller’s brother Joel. Most people called him an ass – never truly giving a reason why. But when he walked back into town with who you presumed to be his daughter with him, you saw there and then a side to Joel Miller that nobody cared to mention. 

How he constantly looked around for the girl, watched her every move in fear she might get hurt. How his hand came to her shoulders, leading her away from looking at the group of people staring at them and towards the bar where Tommy had just walked out from. 

And over the following weeks, you saw small parts of Joel that you felt nobody else had even cared to see. He helped Tommy where he could, and helped others where they’d let him. A couple of times you’d see Ellie – having met her briefly one afternoon when she was sat with Tommy as he tried to fix a toaster – struggling with her homework, only to turn to the one man who a lot of people were afraid of in town. With a calm nod, he’d walk over and help her. 

Then you finally met him. 

Usually, you were on patrol in the afternoons, taking over after Joel’s detail. Except, with one of theirs getting sick, you offered to cover. The other’s didn’t want to pair off with Joel because of their preconceived notions of him, or were more than eager to do so, which made Joel slightly uncomfortable. 

So, when you called out to be paired with him, he agreed. Though, neither of you missed the looks two of the women in the team gave you as you walked past them and followed Joel. 

That was the day you became friends with Joel. 

“You know, if it makes you that uncomfortable, I can make a swap with one of them. Just because the world went to shit doesn’t mean someone should feel like it.”

Joel thanked you and, although he never gave an actual answer to your offer, part of him was pleased to see you in detail regularly. 

Over the following weeks, you got to know more about him. About Ellie. About Tommy. About his life before Jackson. And he got to know yours. 

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the right thing.” Joel suddenly said to you one day. 

You’d both been walking the grounds around the town and found yourselves looking over and in behind the wooden posts. People were mostly going about their day, working or playing. 

“Right thing about what?”

“With Ellie. She’s just a kid and she’s already seen so much. She deserves a normal life.”

“She has a normal life, Joel. As normal as it can get these days. And that’s because you gave it to her.”

“Did I, though? Y/n, she hadn’t even seen a car before we hit the road.”

With a small sigh, you walked a little further up and met Joel where he stood. “If you’re that worried about her, show her something. Teach her something. A life skill that isn’t about survival.”

“Like what?”

You shrugged and looked back over the town. There has to be something. 

“Do you know how to play the guitar?” You asked after a moment, turning back to him. 

He nodded. “Use to.”

“Well, I’ve got a guitar in my house. Found it when I was rummaging through the attic. Teach her how to play the guitar.”

You walked away and a little further through the trees, Joel quickly followed after you. “I don’t know any songs.”

“I’ve got a guitar. There’s gotta be song books somewhere in that attic. We can look when we get back into town.”

“And if there isn’t?”

“Then…make one up? It’ll be like riding a bike. Trust me.”

“Trust me.” Joel repeated. “Trust me, she says. Have you ever even played the guitar?”

You let out a small laugh. “Once. I wasn’t very good though.”

A few hours later, yourself and Joel were standing inside your house at the bottom of your attic ladders. 

“After you.” 

You stood so far away from the steps, Joel already had a feeling he knew what would be awaiting him. 

“There a reason I’m going first?” He asked, already halfway up the ladders. 

“No…”

He looked down at where you were standing; holding the ladder steady. “Okay, maybe. I found the guitar and then a massive spider. It ran away quickly. I couldn’t find it so that room is now his.”

Joel’s boots hit the floor of the attic and after a few minutes you heard a stomp before he called down to you. “Spider’s dead. You’re safe.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Walking up the ladders, you peaked your head over the edge of the floor before taking a look around. The coast was clear. And for the next twenty minutes, you and Joel rummaged through a couple of different boxes until you both found what you were looking for, including some extra things.

“Watch your step.” Joel stood behind you a little as you climbed down the last couple of steps, the heat of his hand warming your hip before he stepped around you and pushed the ladder back up into the door, closing the hatch. 

Carrying the case of books down, you followed Joel with the box of clothes that you’d deemed salvageable. 

“Thanks, for your help.”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Joel nodded. “Tomorrow.”

Just before you closed the door, you called out for him. “Joel?”

He turned around. 

“You’re a good dad. And Ellie’s a good kid. You’re doing a good job.” 

He didn’t know what to say, feeling grateful if a little awkward and unsure of himself. Looking at you from the path to your home, he wanted to walk back and…hug you? He wasn’t too sure. So, with a low nod, he gave you a brief smile before he thanked you once more and headed back home. 

As the next day came into view, Joel was rushing around the kitchen since he’d missed his alarm leaving Ellie to pound her fist on his bedroom door. 

“Done your homework?”

“We don’t have homework this week.” Ellie told him as she took another stab at her eggs. “Were you meant to see Y/n this morning?”

Joel shook his head, pulling the hot toast from his toaster before reaching for the butter knife. “Don’t think so. Why?”

“Because she’s at the door.”

A knock came less than a second later and Ellie watched as Joel became something more than just flustered. “Uhhh.”

“Want me to get it?”

“Go ahead.” He reached into the cupboard above his head and pulled out a jar of peanut butter. 

As Ellie answered the door and let you inside, letting you follow her through the house towards the kitchen, Ellie didn’t miss how neater the kitchen looked since she left. 

And she didn’t miss how Joel’s hair had gone from sticking out in most places and his shirt being buttoned wrong, to being neat and tidy. 

“Y/n’s here.”

“Hey,” Joel practically breathed out. “Were we meant to meet-”

You shook your head. “No, don’t worry. I just…” You held out the pile of clothes in your hands. “I found some more clothes last night after you left. And considering they won’t fit me, I figured you might want them. I’ve dropped some into town already but I saved these in case you needed some.”

“He does.”

“Ellie.”

“What?”

Joel looked back at you. “Thank you. That’s, uhh, that’s nice. Thanks.”

With a little awkward nod, you placed them on the kitchen table where Ellie took one from the pile and held it up. It didn’t seem like it would fit Joel. 

“There’s some there for you, too,” you told her. 

“Thanks.” 

A moment of silence settled over the kitchen before Joel’s mind was kicked back into reality. “Right, you’re gonna be late. Have you got your-”

“Lunch, books, jacket.” Ellie sounded off. 

It seemed like the list was a ritual. 

“I’ve got it all now let’s go.”

You followed Joel and Ellie out of their house and through the town, Joel walking Ellie to school before he made his way further down the road and towards the stables. 

It was your day to clean out their stables and since Joel was on construction, he’d offered to be the one to help fix a couple of the stable doors. 

And all day, talking or working in silence, you both missed the looks and stares from the rest of the town paterons. 

To them they’d seen Joel go from an asshole who spoke in grunts and rough gestures to witnessing a foreign side to him that apparently you only got to see. 

When you were around him, people saw him actually smile. A few even heard him laugh. Of course, when people mentioned it to Tommy, he was a little shocked they hadn’t seen it sooner. It had shocked him to his core when he saw his brother seem a little like his older self when he was with Ellie – laughing, smiling, joking. Even if it contained a few more swear words. So when he saw Joel practically skip into work (he didn’t. But he definitely had a pep in his step) Tommy made sure to keep an eye on what had caused the change. 

The only thing that had changed in his life outside of Ellie was you. 

You’d come into his life and the side of him that was only visible to his family was very, very slowly becoming visible to the outside world. 

Then the rumors started. 

And they circulated for months. 

“Heard any good new ones?” Tommy asked, leaning over the bar top, pretending to be interested in Ellie’s homework. 

“Overheard one of the teachers. They said they’ve met before but because she was running a herbal shop when we were on the road. Apparently she slipped something into his tea that made sure he only ever liked her if they met again.”

Tommy choked back a laugh. “Well, shit.”

“Still doesn’t beat him being a warlock and being cursed to spend his entire life with her.” Ellie said.

“Do you know who started that one?”

Ellie shook her head, pretending to be interested in her homework, too. You and Joel were on the other side of the bar, setting up a couple of hanging features before Maria could get to the ladders again. Despite her being seven months pregnant, she was determined to ignore her midwife. 

“Not yet. But when I do they better run. I like Y/n.”

“I do, too. And it really should be the other way ‘round. She’s cursed to spend her life with him. I used to live with him. I’ve seen him in the morning.”

“We’ve all seen him in the morning.”

“S’Not my fault I’m not a morning person.” Tommy practically stood to attention as Joel made his way over. “You two giving me shit?”

“No,” Ellie said far too innocently. 

Joel hummed. “I’m sure. Tommy, you seen the 2x4 I left here?”

Looking under the bar, he held it up. “This?”

Joel took it from his hand. “Thanks.”

“Hey, Maria and I were thinking about having a family dinner this week? What’d you think?”

Joel nodded after taking in Ellie’s reaction. “Sure. When?”

“Tomorrow? About 7?”

Joel nodded. “We’ll be there.”

“Hey.” 

Joel turned back to his brother. “Want to invite Y/n?”

Joel looked from his brother, to you where you were measuring out the centre of the wall on the ladder, and then back to his brother. “I can ask.”

Tommy smiled and Joel went on his way. “How long do’ya think it’ll take?”

“At this rate? An eternity.”

The next evening rolled around and you found yourself being dragged towards Tommy and Maria’s home by Maria. 

“My shift ran late but I didn’t want to come empty handed.” You explained to Tommy and Joel as you were practically launched inside by the former’s wife. 

“All is forgiven.” Tommy told you as he showed his wife what was in the tupperware you’d brought with you. “Right?”

“Yes, all is forgiven. Now let’s eat.”

Sitting down at the dinner table, Joel held out his arm and let you walk inside before him, where he held your chair out for you before tucking you under and sitting beside you and Ellie sitting on his other side. 

However, halfway through dinner, your body jerked til you sat straight. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Just twisted myself.”

All in all, it was a nice family dinner. A couple stories were shared, some updates given and then you found yourself being walked home by Joel since Ellie had given a small salute to you both before reaching your path, saying she had to rush home to do…something. 

“Have fun, kids.”

“Take the main road!”

“Whatever you say!”

Joel gave a small groan. “She’s gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.”

You smiled. “She’ll be safe, Joel.”

Walking you to your door, Joel saw your body react to something that didn’t seem to be there. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? That’s the forth-”

You let out a laugh. “I promise, Joel. I’m okay. Just twisted myself on patrol today.”

He didn’t seem to believe you. “I swear. I’ll be okay.”

With a sigh, Joel accepted your promise. “Okay.”

Then you did something that even shocked you. You leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, for walking me home. And for inviting me. It was a fun night.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“We should do it more often.”

Joel smiled. “Just might.”

Then a familiar silence settled over both you and Joel. The kind of silence that was begging for something more. But then, taking in a breath, you stepped back. 

“Thank you, again. Goodnight, Joel.”

“G'night, Y/n.”

As you shut and locked the door, Joel found himself smiling as he walked away, his gaze drifting back to your home every now and again as he made his way back down the path and through the town to his own home where Ellie was waiting for him in the living room. 

“So, did you kiss her?”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” The look Joel gave Ellie made her feel like she was under a spot-light. It was past ten pm. 

“Answer the question?”

“Ellie.”

Standing dramatically, Ellie sighed. “Come on. I know you like her. And she likes you. Why not just kiss her already? Give the rest of us a break from the looking, and the staring and the smiling and the looking.”

Taking his daughter by her shoulders, he steered her towards the stairs and up them. “Teeth and bed. Now, please.”

“Ugh, fine. But you know I’m right.”

“Goodnight, Ellie.”

Eventually, after hearing the tap turn off and Ellie’s bedroom door shut, Joel shut his own and lay down in bed, his last thoughts being on you and what Ellie had said. 

I know you like her. And she likes you.

A few days passed, however, before he saw you again. Which worried him more than he wanted to admit. But when he finally did, he knew the minute he saw you something was wrong. 

Ellie had knocked on your front door early in the afternoon having snuck out of school. She’d invited you to watch a movie or two with her and Joel that evening. 

“We found a whole bunch at the back of one of the closets. Please say yes.”

You smiled. You’d been dying to see both of them for days but the pain that had started as your side had practically spread across your entire body overnight. 

“Okay. So long as it’s okay with Joel.”

“He said it’s okay.”

Joel didn’t know anything about it until Ellie got home from school and told him what would be happening. But he wouldn’t have said no anyway. 

Ellie had practically flung the door off its hinges when she saw you walking up the steps of their porch. 

“Someone’s excited.”

“Come on, come on, come on.” 

Ellie pulled you inside and shut the door. “Joel! She’s here.”

“Is the door still attached? No Ellie sized hole in it?”

“He’s been grumpy all week.”

“I heard that!”

Then he appeared around the corner and your heart did the same thing it had been doing for weeks whenever you did see him. But that only caused you more pain in your chest. 

“Ellie, go and bring the box down. We need to see which ones need to be rewound.”

Ellie looked between the pair of you before disappearing up the stairs. 

“Hey, sorry I didn’t-”

“Show me.”

“What?” You took a small step back as Joel was about to take one forward. 

“Y/n. Show me.”

Carefully walking over to you, you shook your head. “I’m fine, Joel.”

He was a little less abrupt this time. “Show me?”

His fingers traced the hem of your t-shirt and with a reluctant but painful sigh, you carefully removed your jacket with his help. 

“Can I?”

With a soft nod, Joel took his eyes from yours and lifted the corner of your t-shirt only to be met with deep purple bruises with spots of black, green and yellow. 

“It’s not as bad as it looks. It’s starting to heal.”

Joel didn’t seem amused. “Y/n-” Then he noticed the others. “You’ve been cut. Jesus. Fuck. Come with me.”

Taking your hand in his, he pulled you towards the kitchen. “Sit down.”

“Joel, I’m fine.”

“Sit down.”

“If I sit down, it hurts more.”

Another silence washed over you both before he turned back to his freezer and pulled out a couple of ice packs. “Here…can I?”

You gave him your permission once more and he lifted your t-shirt and placed the ice packs against your sides. You could feel his thumb rubbing light lines across your side as he held you steady. 

“Got 'em’ I think a couple- holy shit.”

Ellie got a clear view of the deep bruises across you. “Ellie, can you run and get the first aid kit from the bathroom?”

“Yea, are you okay?”

You nodded. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Ellie.” Joel pushed. She nodded quickly then ran upstairs in search of the kit. 

“That’s what you told me.” Joel mumbled under his breath. 

“It didn’t look this bad.”

“When did it happen?”

There was no point in lying to him anymore. “Patrol before the dinner.”

“Who did it?”

“I slipped and fell against one of the trees.”

Flicking his eyes from your wounds and back to your face, one of his hands ran around the rim of your top until it was lifted high enough for him to get a clear picture, he shook his head. “Trees don’t tend to have rifles as branches.”

“It was mine.”

Joel pointed at one of the longer bruises. “This one…is yours.”

He pointed at the other one. “Whose was this?”

He looked you in your eyes but you shook your head. “Joel…”

“Got it.” Ellie landed at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Thanks, kiddo.”

Pulling a chair out, Joel sat beside you. “Sure you don’t want to sit?”

You shook your head. “Not yet.”

“Okay. Ellie, go and see if you can rewind some of those tapes.”

She just nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Joel waited until she left the room before asking you to remove your shirt. It took you a minute but with his help you finally got it over your head. Under any other context, Joel’s eyes trailing your body would have been for another reason outside of his brain counting each cut and scrape you’d gotten and each bruise that was trying its best to heal. 

“This might sting.”

You nodded and bit your lip as the cold disinfectant hit your wounds. Some of them you didn’t even know existed considering you could only turn your body so far to look in the mirror before it screamed for you to remain still. 

“Was it your partner?”

You swallowed thickly. “No.”

Your back was to him for the moment, so that made it easier to tell him the truth. “One of the others. They were hearing noises. His partner had left him and he got lost. Must have heard me and just…jumped. He didn’t mean to. He’s just a kid, Joel. He got scared. Did what most of us would have done.”

“You could have been shot.”

“But I wasn’t. I’m okay, Joel.”

He shook his head. “Says the woman covered in bruises and scars.”

“They’ll heal. I’ll heal.”

“What’s his partner’s name?”

“Joel.”

“Just tell me. If you don’t, I’ll ask around and Maria can be the one to deal with him.”

You sighed. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“What his partner did was stupid.”

“Joel.”

He grunted. “I promise.”

Swearing halfway through as Joel pressed another cotton swab of disinfectant to a scar, you told him his name. Joel had a couple of run ins with him over the last couple of months. A jock twenty years out of college, still trying to haze the kids under his authority. 

Ten minutes or so later, Joel had finished and replaced the ice packs you’d been holding at your side. 

Laying them on either side of your body as you turned around, your t-shirt falling back around your body. He slowly stood and you held onto his arms, your eyes closing. 

“Any better?”

You nodded. “Much. Thank you.”

You both stood there for a few moments, your eyes closed, feeling the throbbing in your sides settle more than it had done in the last couple of days. And as you let out a calm breath, Joel leaned against you a little and pressed a kiss to your forehead before you rested it against his chest. 

“I think I’m ready to sit now.”

“Okay,” Joel whispered before pressing another kiss to the top of your head before walking with you into the living room, finding a set up already made by Ellie. 

“I thought the blankets might help.”

You smiled at her. “Thank you, Ellie.”

She smiled from her spot on the floor by the TV, her finger still holding the rewind button down. Joel helped you sit down. 

“So, what are the options?”

Ellie read out a couple of the boxes. There were a lot of Disney films, a couple of thrillers and a few more different blockbusters. So, sticking his hand into the box without looking, Joel pulled one out. 

Ellie read the cover. “Field of Dreams.”

“Ooh, that’s a good one.”

Ellie looked at Joel for confirmation and he nodded. “Stick it in, kid.”

Sitting beside you, you leaned against Joel for support and very soon after, Ellie joined his other side. 

“Does he dream about a field?”

“Just watch it and you’ll find out.”

Around 40 minutes into the movie, Joel felt a steady weight against his arm where he turned and found Ellie fast asleep. So carefully reaching over, he pulled a blanket over her and held her steady against him. 

“She asleep?”

“Yep. Yet to get through a movie with her awake.”

You smiled. 

“You get much sleep recently?”

“Enough to keep me going.” Joel didn’t say anything but when he placed his arm around your shoulders, that said everything. 

“This always made me cry.” You whispered to Joel as Archie stepped across the line and became his older self. 

“How many times have you seen this film?” He’d caught you a couple of times mouthing the lines along with the characters. 

You felt your cheeks heat. “A couple. Before I came to Wyoming, one of my neighbours had a VCR and two films. This and The Parent Trap. Since I’d look after her two kids when she worked, it didn’t take long for me to learn the scripts.”

“So how much do you know of The Parent Trap?”

You felt yourself chuckle. “We can watch it and find out.”

Joel laughed quietly, too, before carefully pulling you closer. “How’s your side?”

You looked up at him. “Better. Thank you.”

“Good.”

Joel pressed a kiss to your head before getting settled with both you and Ellie. And just as Kevin Costner started to play a game of catch, you felt yourself drift off to sleep. 

You didn’t know how long had passed since the movie ended but when your body hit a soft surface, you stirred awake. 

“Shush, it’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

“Joel.”

“It’s okay. I’m gonna check on Ellie.”

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to your head but you mustered enough energy to reach out for him. “Come back.”

“I promise.” Lifting your hand, he pressed a light kiss to your knuckles. You woke up again when a weight dipped on the other side of the bed. Then you heard a familiar groan as his body settled into the softness of the mattress. 

You shuffled closer to Joel. 

Waking for the third time, the room was being lit with the soft rays of the sun and beside you, deep breaths were being taken by Joel as he remained in a deep sleep. 

If this was anyone else, you probably would have left. Hell, you wouldn’t have fallen asleep in the first place. But you trusted Joel. More so than most. You also found him to be steadier than most. He’d shared some of what had happened on the road with him and Ellie, as well as what happened before. Life hadn’t been steady with him, and yet, there he lay. Stable. Able. Strong. Maybe not as he was twenty years ago, but still. Trustworthy. And beneath it all…kind. Caring. Sensitive; even if he wouldn’t admit it. He knew when people were hurt, or hurting. And maybe for others he’d seem gruff. But not with you. Not with Ellie. Not with those he loved and cared deeply for. 

With his hand wrapped over yours, you lifted it and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. Maybe Joel Miller could be an asshole. But to you he was a decently kind man. 

Maybe others wouldn’t see that considering between the hour that Joel had left to pick a package up from Tommy, leaving you and Ellie to find another tape to play, your attacker’s partner found his nose broken and had been given a black eye. But you didn’t mind his kindness being kept a secret from the rest of the world. 

Those he cared for knew the truth. 

You knew the truth. 

And nothing could ever change that. 

[madhatterbri]

Do You Trust Me? | D.P.

Summary: Four little words cause Y/N to remember the man she met at the market. Aladdin AU.

Author's Note: WWE did this. My favorite Disney movie is Aladdin. They keep calling Damian street trash. This wasn't my fault. I'm literally just a girl.

Damian Priest Masterlist

WWE Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @mrsarcherofinfamy @terrortwinunicorn @brideofinfamy @miss-kuki-nz @hotwheels1108 @new-zealand-chic @magicalbuttertarts @keytothewardy @missbmc94 @surdelcielo

As always, requests are open! Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist. ❤️

Do you trust me?

Y/N tried to blame the blistering sun over Agrabah. The fear of being caught by her own father's royal guards for stealing to feed hungry kids. Knowing that Vizier Finn and his bird JD would make her punishment worse. Any plausible explanation she could think up on why she would trust a common thief. Yet, she couldn't think of one. Out of everyone in her life, she felt that she could trust him the most.

A man with humble beginnings who took care of himself by stealing. With hair as dark as night and dark brown eyes that resemble the chocolates imported to her country. His skin tan from his constant exposure to the sun. Y/N did more than trust him. She wanted to know more about him. Be close to him.

As the guards grew closer, there was only one plausible answer. "Yes,"

The man wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Her arms secured around his neck. The citizens of Agrabah looked up from the streets below.

"Are you sure about this?" Y/N asked.

"Nope," he answered.

"Wait, wait, wait, I'm the prin-" she was cut off once her feet were no longer safely secured on the roof of a house. Y/N buried her head in his neck. The feel of the wind, knowing they were soaring over a street, made her clench and scream.

Her savior swung them to another house across the street. His rough hands grabbed her soft ones. They continued to run through the streets until they made it his home.

The man she came to know as Damian proved to be quite nice. He showed her the beauty of the city outside of the wretched palace walls. Despite his poor lifestyle, he treated her to tea. Something she was sure he had limited supply of. Y/N found herself being drawn closer to him.

Do you trust me?

News of the prince coming to town cut her visit with him short. She had to return back to the palace, yet she knew she couldn't tell him her true identity. Leaving him with only the name of her handmaid, Damian never left her mind.

Over the next few days, a new prince came to visit her in the palace. Simply named Dam, he intrigued her just like the man from the market. He seemed to not be accustomed to royal life, but something about him seemed so familiar. Y/N would learn just how familiar one fateful night.

Dam was waiting for her on her balcony. Dressed in his princely white, he toyed with her about how he managed to visit her. Appearing hurt that she didn't believe him, Dam stood on the balcony fence and fell backward.

"No!" Y/N screamed and ran to the fence. Dam had a cocky smile on his face. He was on some sort of magic carpet. She raised her eyebrows in confusion. The princess had never seen such an interesting contraption.

"Come see the world with me outside of these walls and your books," he offered. The prince reached out his hand to take hers.

"I don't know about this," she spoke cautiously. Any misstep, and she would surely perish on the ground below.

Y/N stared at the man before her. The same four words that she played in her head every time she fell asleep. Whenever she closed her eyes, it was his face that she saw. Never one of the suitors that her father wanted her to marry. Except now he was in clothes fit for royalty.

She smirked. "I do, Damian,"

[ateez-himari]

[ARCHIVE] AMYGDALA

...

The best choice Then the second-best choice Third-best choice, choice, yeah

Disclaimer & Content Warnings; Please keep in mind that this is pure fiction and does NOT represent the real Min Yoongi nor his life in any way. This scenario contains heavy themes of mental health struggles, emotional distress, violence, trauma and attempted s*icide (I'm also not well versed in the medical field so please ignore all the inaccuracies in here-)

.........

The rapper hunched his trembling body over the young girl laying on the hospital bed, sleeping peacefully as though the blood staining her pink lips was not a product of her brother's instability. Tears from his hardened eyes were a rare sight yet in this moment they were nearly drenching the sheets, reducing him to a whimpering mess - a scene that Hoseok caught from the doorway, shocked at the vulnerability he was being exposed to.

"I did this..." Yoongi frantically repeated, sitting by his sister's hip. "I'm so fucking sorry Hima."

Hearing this distress, the younger man walked over to his bandmate and tentatively placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, eliciting a slight jolt that made a bloodied hand tighten around his sister's own bandaged one. The ringing in his ears muffled the idol's question yet the moment his brain registered it, the scene from earlier began replaying in his head like some sort of cruel torture, forcing him to face the consequences that the disaster in his mind was having on people simply guilty of loving him.

His staggering conscious state barely managed to register his sister's pleas for him to wake up, her small body kneeling next to his head crushing the pills that had nearly managed to take his life. All that he remembered feeling in this moment was the frustration of still being alive so with what little strength he could muster, which he did not realize was much more than the poor girl could handle, the man pulled his body upright and pushed her against a glass table. Not even the sound of the material shattering under her weight could snap him out of this deplorable state, and despite shards digging into sensitive flesh the girl scrambled back towards her brother, shoving his hands away from the liquor bottles scattered across the floor. Desperate pleas fell on deaf ears, as the alcohol mixed with a strange mixture of medicinal drugs running through his bloodstream blurred any rational thought, turning the frail body clinging to his own into nothing more than an inconvenience separating him from the relief he craved. "Why can't you just fucking let me die ?" He yelled out, sending her crashing against the nearest wall. "Such a fucking nuisance." In a fleeting moment of clarity while taking another swig of bitter liquid he managed to notice the stillness of his sister's body, crouching in front of her only to find that the strength behind this hit had been enough to knock her unconscious - gaze at last taking notice of the lacerations. Everything past that point was almost automatic, the only memory left being the intense pain burning his shoulder whilst he rushed to the hospital with the girl wrapped in his arms, bare feet hitting the pavement in a frantic rhythm.

Hoseok could do nothing except take in the man's explanation as both remained oblivious to Taehyung hiding behind the wall, torn between attempting to understand his bandmate's darkened mental state and feeling enraged at what this innocent child had been put through at his hands. Inside of the room, sheets rustled with the patient's movements and her brother expected yelling or even fear, only to completely break down at her small arms wrapping around his abdomen with pure anguish written over every inch of her body.

"Please don't leave me." Himari begged, burying a tear streaked face into his chest. "I won't be annoying anymore, I won't even take up your time anymore just please don't leave me."

"I'm so sorry..." Yoongi whispered, cradling the terrified girl. "You never should have seen this...I never should have done this to you, you don't need to forgive me, I'm so fucking sorry. I'll never try to leave you, never again, I swear it. Your big brother's right here, I'm staying right here, always...I'll fix this, big brother will fix everything..."

Neither knew in that moment that the promises would not be kept, that trauma would haunt her for years to come after having to save his life more times than her soft heart could handle, all that the man realized was that never in her life would hatred plague her soul - no matter how much he may break her in the process.

[Years Later - 2023]

Thousands of people watched the stage with teary eyes as the siblings shared an embrace heavy with matching scars carved deeply into their souls, the backing track speaking for them as it played their own voices back to the healing idols - '다 괜찮아질 거야'. None of the attendees aside from his bandmate will ever realize that his hands were grazing marks left by glass he could still see imbedded in her skin, nor how it was not an adult woman in his arms but a twelve year old child.

It's all gonna be alright...

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Quite the Workout Part 3 -Oneshot

Sorry it took me a minute, but here's part 3. ;) I also don't necessarily like the nicknames Bucky calls reader in this one...but it seemed to fit the vibe of the story. Trigger warning: derogatory name-calling, smut Word count: 2603

Part 1 Part 2

“I’ve never been in this room before,” Y/N said, looking around the smaller workout room.

Bucky hummed.  “It’s one of the private workout rooms.”

She looked around at the equipment lining the walls, the mirror along the wall across from the door and a large mat covering the middle section of the room.  There were no windows, and she wasn’t sure but she thought she heard the click of the lock when Bucky closed the door behind them.  “Why do we need a private workout room if we’re just sparring?” she asked, though she had an inclination as to what it was Bucky had on his mind.

“So I can give you a private lesson,” he said matter-of-factly.  “Who better to learn hand-to-hand combat and sparring with than the one and only ex-Winter Soldier?”

Y/N lifted an eyebrow at him.  “I know hand-to-hand combat, Buck,” Y/N said.  “You’ve seen me do it before.”

“Yes,” he nodded, walking toward her.  “But you’ve never had to go up against me.”

Y/N huffed a laugh as his eyes narrowed, looking like a predator stalking its prey.  “You sure you won’t get a boner while trying to fight me?” she teased.

Bucky’s expression didn’t waver except for his lips slightly curling into a smirk.  “No promises,” he said.  

Y/N rolled her eyes and got into a defensive stance.  She let Bucky circle her, watching him carefully and trying to think of the next steps he could take.  She’d seen him fight in the field multiple times.  He was wicked fast, strategic, and quite lithe for a man his size.  He was taking small steps closer to her each time he circled, almost imperceptibly if she wasn’t so aware of him.  Like lightning he suddenly swung at her, and she barely dodged his attack by mere centimeters.  It slightly scared her, her eyes widening and muscles tensing.  Most people, especially men she had ever had to fight were pretty predictable, they’re bodies indicating what their next move would be with each twitch, back swing and twist.  But Bucky was like a wild cat, slinking toward her one way then surprising her going a different way.  His hits were heavy but precise.  She tried to keep her breathing even and composed.  It would do her no good to panic.  She moved so that her back would never face him, frowning as she focused on the task at hand.

Bucky’s smirk never left his face.  He knew he had the upper hand, and she knew it, too.  As much as she could hold her own against most assailants, an enhanced person was a totally different animal.  He finally stopped moving and waited for her to make the next move, his head tilting in both question and challenge at her.

Y/N couldn’t stand the anticipatory, charged silence and attacked, swinging her arm through the air toward his face.  She knew he would dodge it easily, so as he moved his head she twisted her body and punched his ribs with her other hand at the last second before springing away from him.

Bucky huffed a breath and smiled as he turned to face her.  “Good girl,” he praised her.  “Good strategy.”

Y/N shook out and flexed her hand that landed the punch.  It was like punching a brick wall.  As proud as she was at landing at least one punch, she didn’t let it deter her from being realistic about her chances.  She wasn’t enhanced, didn’t have any powers to help her.  They sparred for a while longer, Y/N doing her best to just not get hit or hurt.  Most of her movements were defensive or evasive, and she could feel her endurance diminishing as time went on.  Bucky seemed to be enjoying himself, his eyes raking over her figure more often than not, which only made it harder for her to focus.  

“Would you quit ogling me and just fight?” she finally grunted as she missed hitting his torso once again.

“It’s not my fault you decided to spar with the tiniest, tightest shorts known to mankind,” Bucky retorted, his hungry gaze flitting over her lower half for the hundredth time.  “Trying to distract me with those thighs of yours.”

“Aw, I thought you liked my thighs,” Y/N said patronizingly.  The shorts had been a conscious decision, which he of course picked up on.  

“I do,” he winked.  “And that ass that’s practically hanging out of those shorts.  And what’s peeking at me between your legs every time you kick at me.”

Y/N smirked.  She conveniently hadn’t worn underwear, either.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said nonchalantly.  “I’m just here to spar with my mission partner.  It’s not my fault if he’s a horny, thigh-obsessed, sick little pussy puppy.”

Bucky’s eyes widened at her.  He suddenly sprang forward and tackled her, blocking most of the fall with his body before rolling them over until he was on top of her.  Y/N squirmed and struggled, trying to fight him off but failing miserably as his metal hand gripped both of her wrists and held her hands up above her head and firmly against the mat.  She tried to lift her legs enough to kick him off, but he positioned himself between her legs, keeping them spread wide so she couldn’t bend them high or wide enough to get at him with her feet.  His flesh hand gripped her throat and she gasped as he squeezed.

“Watch your dirty mouth, baby,” Bucky growled, his face an inch away from hers.  His eyes were dark, his nose scrunched and lips curled over his teeth like he was snarling at her.  He looked more dangerous to her than he ever had before, opening up a flood of conflicting emotions that had her body responding in strange ways.  As much as she was panicking at being so easily taken down, her hips were trembling with need, her pussy hot and throbbing at the danger.  “Wearing the smallest shorts with no underwear to try and throw me off.  Once again, proving that if anyone is sick in this relationship, it’s you.”  He kissed her hard, making her hum against mouth as he stole the breath from her lungs.  The kiss was all tongue and teeth, nipping at her lips and sucking on her tongue before quickly pulling away.  He squeezed her neck again and she opened her mouth wide to suck in a breath.  He leaned down and licked a tear that she was unaware had fallen down the side of her face.  “Look at you, so desperate you’re shaking beneath me.  Such a sick, horny, pretty little bitch.”

Y/N nodded, her wrists trying to twist out of his grip.  His flesh hand moved down slowly from her neck and over her chest, kneading her breasts roughly and rucking up her tank top and sports bra so her breasts were exposed before traveling down her torso to the rim of her shorts.  He yanked them down, maneuvering her legs so he could pull them all the way off so she was opened wide and splayed out naked for him.  Y/N was panting at his rough treatment.  They had been together a couple of times since that mission where she had teased him about getting a boner watching her fight, but it had never been this rough or needy before.  She had once again said too much, done too much, and pushed him too far.  This was punishment.

Bucky never let go of her wrists, his metal hand a literal vise pinning her against the mat.  His flesh hand felt her all over, his fingers teasing her cunt and clit before quickly pulling away, then he would lean down and bite or lick along sensitive spots on her body until she was a whining, moaning, crying mess.  

“Bucky…please!” she cried out after he edged her again, pulling his fingers away from her pussy.

She yelped as he slapped her puffy pussy lips.  “What did you call me?” he asked gravelly.

“I’m sorry!  I’m sorry,” she pleaded, trying to grind her hips up toward him, his hard cock tenting his sweats and brushing against her every time he moved.  “Please Sergeant!  I can’t, I can’t handle it, please…”

Bucky tickled the space above her pussy with the tips of his fingers, sliding them up her stomach, making her flinch, then kneaded her breasts again, pinching her nipples too hard one at a time.  She thrashed her head back and forth, biting her lower lip to keep herself from being too loud.  Then he slapped her tits, and she shuddered with a long groan.  “You’re my little slut, aren’t you?”

“YES!” she screamed.  “I’m your little slut, Sergeant!”

Bucky smiled.  “Good girl,” he said, then sunk three fingers deep inside her.  Y/N moaned loudly at finally being filled, her head wrenching back against the mat with a thud.  His thumb rubbed at her clit as his fingers squelched in and out of her, changing the pace randomly and sporadically curling his fingers deep inside her, brushing against the special spot and teasing her.  

“Sergeant, can I please cum?” Y/N begged, her legs moving up over his hips and hooking her ankles behind his ass.

“No,” Bucky murmured.

Y/N whimpered at the denial, trying hard to stave off her impending orgasm.  She decided to try something else.  “Sergeant, will you please fuck me with your cock?”  His eyes snapped up to look at her.  “Please?” she quickly added again.  “I want your thick, fat cock inside me.  I need it.  Please?”

Bucky paused for a second before removing his hand from her pussy and pushing down his sweats and boxers just far enough to release his cock.  Y/N moaned at the sight of it, hard, long and thick, pulsing with need like she was.  He stroked himself, wiping her wetness onto himself before rubbing the tip through her lower lips.  She shook again, desperate for him but trying not to move too much for fear that he would take it away.  

“This what you want, baby?” he teased her, rubbing her clit with the tip of his cock.

“Yeah, yes, Sergeant,” she whispered.  

“Is this what your pretty little pussy needs?” he asked, rutting his hips against her so his cock length ran up and down through her pussy lips.  Y/N nodded frantically, shivering each time the head of his cock would catch against her clit or at her entrance.  “Is this what my pretty little bitch needs?  So desperate for my cock.  You gonna take all of me?”  She nodded again, more tears falling down the sides of her face.  “But you’re not gonna cum til I say so, are you, slut?”

Y/N shook her head.  “No, I won’t cum til you say so, Sergeant.  Please!”  She knew how desperate and insane she sounded, but couldn’t find it in herself to care.  It was hard to believe that just a few weeks ago this would have been unfathomable to her.

Bucky hummed, then suddenly slammed himself all the way in with one hard thrust.  Y/N sobbed at finally being filled the way she wanted so perfectly like only he could.  He harshly blew out a puff of air, his eyes shut tight as he tried to keep himself composed.  “Jesus, baby.  Always so tight for me.”  Her pussy fluttered and he moaned.  “Don’t cum,” he grunted, his eyes opening and glaring at her in warning.

Y/N shook her head again.  “I won’t, I–mmh,” she moaned as he snapped his hips into her.  “I won’t,” she whined.  Bucky’s gaze raked over her, his flesh hand moving to grip and feel her thigh over his hip.  He rolled and thrust his hips into her at an agonizingly slow pace, letting her feel every inch of him moving in and out of her.  Y/N’s fingers were going numb from the tight grip of his metal hand around her wrists, and she whined again.  “Sergeant, can I please touch you?”  

Bucky looked like he was getting lost in the sensation of fucking her, and he absentmindedly nodded, his metal fingers releasing her wrists slowly.  She stretched and flexed her hands and fingers as she lowered her arms and reached up to cup the sides of his face.  Her nails scratched his beard and back into the hair at the nape of his neck, and he shivered at the feeling.  Her hands felt him down his back then tugged at the bottom of his shirt, which he quickly pulled off and flung it aside.  With his metal hand now free he used both hands to feel her up, the cool metal feeling soothing against her warm skin.  Her nails dug into his back as his thrusts got harder.  “I love it when you mark me up,” he groaned.  

Bucky’s metal hand moved back up towards her neck, and he gripped her throat while his flesh hand nestled at her pussy.  As his metal fingers slightly squeezed her throat his flesh fingers started flicking at her clit.  Y/N’s hips bucked under him, her legs starting to shake around his hips.  “Sergeant!  Please, if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum.  Please, can I cum?”  She was begging, something she never thought she would do.  “I’ve been so good for you, Sergeant, please?  Please please please please?”

His metal hand squeezed harder and she gasped, her eyes shutting tight.  His hand moved away and tapped her cheek hard, making her eyes snap back open in shock.  “You think you deserve to cum after teasing me?  After calling me a…what was it?  ‘A sick, little pussy puppy?’”  He was driving his hips into her impressively fast and hard, his flesh fingers never stopping on her clit.

Y/N whimpered.  “I’m sorry, Sergeant.”

Bucky smirked.  “I do love this pretty pussy,” he said, tapping her clit quickly with his fingers.  “So if that makes me a sick puppy, so be it.  But you will always be my pretty, little, desperate-for-my-cock-bitch, won’t you?”          

“Yeeesss,” she hissed when he roughly tapped her clit again.  “Yes, Sergeant.”

“That’s my good girl,” Bucky smiled.  His fingers started rubbing and flicking her clit fast, his thrusts getting more brutal by the second.  Her pussy fluttered around him dangerously and his metal hand went back to her throat, squeezing harder until her eyes rolled back.  “Cum, baby.  Cum on my cock, you desperate cumslut!”

Y/N finally let herself relax enough so that his fingers drove her over the edge and she came hard around him with a garbled scream, her entire body shaking as her vision went white.  She heard Bucky’s loud groan above her and then felt him pull out of her fast, his heavy breaths panting as he stroked himself to finish, then she felt his hot cum spurt onto her right thigh, then a little on her left thigh.  She whimpered, her body limp, nerves feeling shot with overstimulation and yet numb all at the same time.  She felt Bucky’s lips replace his metal hand, kissing the red marks his fingers had made.  

“Good girl…my good fucking girl,” he murmured, nis nose and lips nuzzling along her skin up to her mouth.  “Your thighs have never looked prettier.”

Y/N huffed a laugh, her eyes still closed as his metal hand pulled her by the chin to face upwards so he could kiss her deeply.  She hummed as he pulled away.  “Yes Sergeant.”

[honeyxbunny99]

Sandor Clegane~ The Bitch and The Hound pt.10

Sandor raced through the city, determined to find his princess. His surroundings were in stark contrast now to the world of death and men on fire he’d only just left behind; silent except for his own boots on the slick pavement. All the important women would be shut up inside a cellar in the castle— that’s where she should be— but he knew she had been left behind with the hungry dogs. At last he came to the kennels and looked in her window first. He looked in every window and called her name but could not find her. That kennel master! The one who got her eye. He rattled the gate in frustration and tried to focus among the barks and snarling. If the kennel master wasn’t there, he must have been waiting somewhere in the city to watch for a breech in the wall; a signal to release the hounds. If (Y/n) wasn’t here then he seemed a useless character. Maybe she was dead. No, no no! Little finger! Sandor recalled a passing insult from Joffrey after his small counsel meeting.

~He had walked out of the room with a smug smile and looked up at him.

“Your bitch is about to finally put herself to good use, what do you think of that?” Sandor had said nothing at the time, only wearing his usual neutral expression. “Littlefinger has presented me with an idea that I think will work out well for everyone… Maybe you can even fuck her again, if you don’t spend all your earnings on drink.”

When Joffrey finally turned his head to walk away, Sandor sneered and thought of crushing it with his bare hands. He continued on with his duties that day and the next, checking on (Y/n) when she was asleep to ensure she had not left. Perhaps it would have been better for her to become a whore, but he despised the thought and felt a strange gratitude to her that she had chosen the hounds over the whorehouse. Then Anna had dragged him there urgently, though as soon as he knew it was something wrong with (Y/n) he had truthfully charged ahead of the girl. When he heard her voice that day, he heaved a sigh of relief. After the state he’d left her in that night though, he figured she must have gone with Littlefinger. The bastard had finally gotten what he wanted.

A gentleman might have settled on the decision that (Y/n) had made her choice, and was at least safe, but no one ever accused Sandor Clegane of being a gentleman. He marched forward in the rain toward the brothel that must have housed her.

~

After scarfing down all your food and drink, you looked closer into your colorful new room. There were dresses in the ornate wardrobe— all more revealing than anything you’d worn prior— lots of bottled fragrances to choose from, and makeup that would suit your complexion. If you looked at the shiny objects hard enough, perhaps you could actually believe this life was what was best for you. A room without windows, another locked door. A much prettier cage than before, you considered, throwing yourself back on the plush comforter, but a cage nonetheless.

Your eyes closed and you realized just how tired you actually were. Bringing your knees to your chest, you held yourself like a child and drifted off to sleep easily. Peace did not last long for you unfortunately. You awoke to the sound of swords clashing and women screaming. They got in! They’ve breached the wall! You leapt up out of bed and raced to the farthest corner of the room. The door was locked but how much would conquerors care about that? A locked door is so much more tantalizing than the many open ones they’d find leading up to yours.

“Where is he?!” You could barely make out a man’s voice through the door.

More women screamed and wept and you hyperventilated, looking for something to protect yourself, or end yourself, with. The sound of boots and slamming against walls grew louder and you finally picked up the small chair at the vanity and threw it at the mirror, shattering it.

“Unlock it!” Just as you feared. All the beautiful women out there but the beast only wanted what he could not have. You picked up a large shard of glass and cornered yourself again. You watched your hand shake as you held the makeshift weapon out in front of you. As you heard keys fumble into the lock you whimpered and turned the sharpest edge of the glass against your throat.

“Leave me alone!”

“It’s alright, (Y/n)..” You recognized Littlefinger’s voice, but it did nothing to quell your fear. He’s going to let them in!

“You said you would protect me!!” You cried desperately, yelling in surprise when the door burst open, the razor point in your hands digging into the soft flesh of your neck and drawing blood.

“Aye, and I will.”

Sandor Clegane pushed the smaller man into the room and kicked the door shut behind him. His blade was already extended and drenched in blood. Petyr fell to the floor and turned slowly onto his back to look up at The Hound.

“Now, Clegane, let’s not be hasty… It was (Y/n)’s decision to come here, I only welcomed her with open arms.”

“Did he touch you?!” You knew the question was for you though his angry eyes never left the coward on the floor.

For a moment you were too stunned to speak, too stunned to move, too stunned to breathe. Suddenly his eyes found yours for a second and it released you from your stillness. You felt the pain at your neck and lowered the mirror shard, realizing you had clenched it so hard in fear that it had made 2 slices across your palm. “No,” you tried to answer honestly in spite of your breathlessness. “No he didn’t do anythi—“

“Anything aside from rescuing a damsel at her most distressed, I assure you.” Sandor’s boot came down hard on Baelish’s chest, sending the man gasping for air. “It was you that put her there! You with your incessant talking—your trading secrets! It’s as if you put her there by your own hand and you expect us to be grateful?! I ought to cut off your hands!.. I think I will!!”

You had watched his eyes grow wilder the more he spoke and you could hardly recognize his handsome features caked in layers of blood. Really you weren’t sure why you did it, your only thought was to stop the violence and get him out of there. “Wait!” You charged forward, but Sandor had already brought his sword down and severed the hand of Petyr Baelish. You screamed and Petyr could only stare as the blood poured out of his wrist. You covered your mouth in shock but Sandor quickly grabbed your arm and pulled you over the body.

“We’re leaving!”

A guard emerged from one of the rooms in the hall and cut the arm that Sandor was dragging you with. He turned and fought and eventually stuck the man to the wall with his sword. You had the opportunity then to run or hide but you didn’t. You waited for him to look at you and take your hand again and when he finally did, you followed. The whores cowered in their rooms, holding each other as they watched the pair of you run out of the brothel. You understood why they were terrified of him. Any sensible woman would be. As he guided you over the bodies he’d left in his wake, you did not feel terror. You felt almost a sick sense of honor. All this brutality to get to me. My protector.

As you stepped out into the night air you were surprised to find it raining. It was like a jolt to your senses and you finally squirmed your way out of The Hound’s grasp. He looked back at you, waiting for some explanation or fight. “Where are we going? Has the war ended?”

“The war’s over alright; we lost. We’re going somewhere that isn’t burning…” He reached for your hand again but you yanked it back.

“Anna. Where’s Anna?” “How the fuck should I know?” “So you expect to leave her behind to be raped and tortured by the Baratheons?! They burn people alive, Sandor!”

“She’s not important enough to be burnt alive-“ you walked up and slapped him.

“I’m not leaving without her!” “Well I’m not leaving without you!”

With that assurance you started on your way toward the servant’s chambers in the Red Keep. Sandor grumbled but followed behind, watching your back. The city was still surprisingly quiet; no soldiers invading or patrolling— only the sound of heavy rain and dogs howling. Maybe she’s at the kennels to check on me! You decided to make a sharp turn in that direction and when you could finally see it, Sandor grabbed you from behind.

“(Y/n), we can’t be here! They’re going to come when all my men are dead and I can’t fight them all! We have to go now!” You looked up at him, heard the desperation in his voice, and nodded the smallest bit, tears springing to your eyes. “I’m going to the stables, just stay right here alright?” He moved your body so that you were crouched behind a vendor stand and then ran off.

With only your own company now, the screams were much louder. Littlefinger was right— from this spot you’d have the perfect position to hear the agony of war. You peeked your head up when the dogs started barking again, and your heart sank when you saw Charlie sneaking around the kennels. He grabbed the iron key ring from his pocket and you heard him shush the dogs in vain. “(Y/n)?” He called into the kennel, watching for the kennel master all around him.

“Charlie!” You called out, standing up a bit and waving so he could find you.

His eyes opened wide and a smile graced his boyish features when he saw you. He reached into his other pocket and pulled out an apple, holding it up proudly in the light from inside the kennel. You giggled and emerged from the stand finally, beginning your walk over to him as you heard the clip-clop of horse hooves from the direction Sandor ran off in. You were overjoyed to see him! Maybe he could go with you, or tell you where to find Anna.

“Did you really think we’d leave you behind?! Nah, we still love you!” He joked, tossing you the apple. You caught it and smirked at his cheeriness in spite of the literal war around him. “We’ve got to hurry though, Anna’s already—“

“Behind you!”

You warned in horror as the Kennel master ran out of the shadows and immediately clubbed Charlie on the back of the head with his baton.

“No!” You cried out, horrified.

Charlie instantly dropped to the ground and you raised your hands in defense. The crazed man struck again, flinging both your arms into the bars of the main gate. You screamed in pain and crumpled to the floor. You were powerless as you watched the older man strike two more blows to Charlie’s head and face. “Think you can steal from me, boy?!”

You heard Sandor run up behind you and kill the horrid man, but you could not take your eyes off of Charlie’s broken face.

“Oh my Gods, Oh Gods Charlie I’m so sorry! Please! Please! You’re alright!”

You couldn’t feel the pain in your arms any longer as you crawled to cradle him in your lap. His eyes were wild and filled with blood and his whole body spasmed in your arms. “Look at me, please! You have to look at me! You have to be alright!” You sobbed, lying to yourself that if he could only find your eyes, he would heal. He had to heal! He had to grow up and tell jokes and fall in love and run away with you and Anna!

“Charlie??” Your lip quivered and your face scrunched in horror as you adjusted his head to sit better on your leg and brushed his dark curls out of his eyes. “Please, I’m so sorry!”

His eyes finally drifted to yours and you tried to breathe and smile for him. “See, you’re going to be okay!” The seizure began to slow, his muscles relaxing, and you held him tighter in your arms, laughing exasperatedly in relief. He breathed out the first letter of your name and you nodded. Then he went still. Horribly still.

Your eyes scanned over his entire face and you shook his shoulders gently. “Hey…” you whispered. “Hey..” a little louder this time as the tears filled your eyes again and the buzzing in your ears returned. “Charlie wake up.. w-wake up…” you whimpered, looking down at his lifeless body.

You looked up at Sandor, who was stood over the dead kennel master. He looked back at you with an indiscernible expression.

“Help him.. Y-You have to, have to help him!” You sobbed. “I can’t.” He said after a moment of silence.

“Fuck!” You cursed, head dropping onto the boy’s chest as you rocked him back and forth.

~“What about when I’m older? You can be my second… my last maybe.”

“Sure Charlie… When you’re a man I’ll kiss you.”

“You said I’d stay a little boy forever!” “Well when you’re older and I’ve decided you’re not monstrous, how about then?” “S’a deal!” ~

You wailed at the memory and pulled the boy even closer to you. You begged the Gods for mercy, though they never seemed to hear your prayers. He did not deserve this, and you could not stand living with the knowledge that it was your fault.

“Fuck are you doing here?”

You heard Sandor’s voice above you and recognized a horrified gasp that could have only belonged to Anna. Still, you couldn’t look. You brought your head up to look over Charlie again. Freckles and brown eyes, cloaked in blood.

Never again would you see his cheeky smile.

Never would he grow up to be a man, or live a life out of the servitude he loathed so much.

~”There are people who care about you, (Y/n); me, Anna, your family, and yes even the hound! If you stay here you’ll die!”~

He only ever wanted the best for you. He was going to set you free, knowing the risk.

~“I think you’re great, (Y/n)…”~

Your fingers brushed through his tangled curls for the last time and you sniffled.

You’re not monstrous, Charlie…

You stroked his cheek with your thumb and leaned down to plant a kiss on his cold lips. “I love you too, Charlie.” You confessed when you pulled away. You adjusted slowly to give him as much peace as possible and felt Anna’s hand guide you to stand straight. You laid eyes on Charlie’s killer and the buzzing turned to ringing once again. You were deaf to anything Anna or Sandor might have said. Instead, you picked up the baton from the ground where the master had dropped it and stepped over his body. Sandor had stabbed him through the gut long ago, and you were sure the death had been painful. You hovered for a moment before releasing all your rage. It’s not enough. You swung the baton back again and again, hammering it into his face. Every crunch of bone was a small relief and you screamed, falling to your knees and hitting him until your arms felt like gelatin.

“He’s dead, princess..”

You opened your eyes and saw what once was a face was now a pile of red and gray mush. You dropped the baton and walked away on weak legs, not daring to look down at Charlie again. Instead you saw Anna ride up on a black horse and stall next to the one Sandor had brought. You didn’t have to think or speak or move anymore; Sandor lifted you up and laid you on the horse. You were grateful because you weren’t sure how alive and capable you were right now. You were watching the scene from a bird’s eye view, and you could return to your body even if you wanted to.

As Sandor mounted the horse behind you and adjusted your body, you replayed the events of that night. You had never seen such atrocity. Never committed such violence. Yet behind you was Sandor and Anna. Ahead of you was the sun rising in the distance. You rode to an uncertain future, and prayed the pain would remain in King’s Landing.

A/N: a small chapter, but I wanted to get something out before I didn’t have time. I’m moving house this weekend, but I will try to make time to continue the story sooner rather than later. At least they’re together again, right?.. Right?

[triscribeaucollection]

(Fiddling around with a new MCU time travel idea)

There are a couple of kids in Tony’s living room.

Well- there’s one bonafide child, early elementary school age, and then one teenager somewhere on the cusp of young adulthood. But Tony would bet if he put their ages together and divided by two, he’d get a number in the realm of ‘should probably still have a babysitter when the parents go out for an evening’, ergo, kids.

They’re still asleep, for the moment. Or, unconscious, rather. Not awake, at any rate, and they haven’t been since falling through a big glowing circle into his living room, teenager curled protectively around the little girl. Which is a little annoying for two reasons; first and foremost, Tony has questions, but also he’d rather not have Pepper or anyone else walk in and demand to know why there are two unconscious children lying on his sofa.

That’s just such an awkward question. Though he does at least have proof in the form of security footage that the pair arrived by means entirely beyond Tony’s control. Speaking of which; Tony flicks a finger, and JARVIS dutifully rewinds said footage to the beginning, and plays at an again-reduced speed. Ultimate slo-mo doesn’t reveal any answers, however. There’s no prior warning before the light flares, startling video-Tony into spilling his coffee as he crosses the room, and no hints to be found beyond swirling white and orange as the kids fall through. The light vanishes as soon as they’re clear, then the boy hits the floor, hard. There are honest to goodness cracks in Tony’s floor, he had JARVIS run a scan on the structure beneath his lovely thick carpeting just to check.

No cracks in the kid’s bones, though. And- okay, in all honesty, questions and unknowns and everything else aside, Tony does prefer it that way, rather than the reverse.

As far as JARVIS could tell with further scanning, neither kid bore any injuries - just some lingering traces of quantum energy, fading further with every minute. With any luck, as soon as that finishes up, there’ll be some waking up and answering of questions.

Though of course Tony couldn’t just sit around and do nothing while he waited.

The little girl is definitely wearing designer brand clothing: durable sneakers, high quality shorts and collared shirt, a lightweight jacket that wouldn’t look out of place in a magazine for children’s spring collections. Also, just to hammer home the fact she comes from money, JARVIS detected extremely sophisticated tracking beacons inside every single garment. Even the socks. Tiny devices, clearly some kind of advanced nanotech... With a mini Stark Industries logo etched onto each one.

Trouble is, Tony’s never made beacons this small and impressive before.

Her watch is a similar conundrum. It’s red and yellow, clearly meant to look like any other cheap Iron Man themed child’s decoration, except for housing what Tony would swear is the same sort of satellite connection he puts into all of his suits for JARVIS to link up with. Top of the line encryption, tiny hologram projection, more tracking software with options to send specific distress calls, and all of it bio-locked, which- which should have been a problem. Even without an AI present in the device to fight him, it should have taken Tony significant time to crack through the locks and get a good look at the watch’s internal circuitry. Instead, it- recognized him. Recognized his bio-signature, and let him in.

He’s still mulling over the implications of that one.

Now, the teenager, there lie some other mysteries. Far shabbier clothing, for one thing. The ragged shoes alone look like they’ve picked up grime walking from one side of NYC to the other and back. Jeans with a faded appearance that’s not artistic enough to be artificially crafted; sweatshirt that has some amateur stitchwork patching up the elbows; t-shirt with holes in the hem and a cartoon character Tony didn’t recognize on the chest.

Thing is, JARVIS didn’t recognize the character either. Not even after running a search through the whole dang internet. And it wasn’t an indie creation, there was very definitely a Disney logo on the shirt’s tag, where it stuck up from the back of the collar.

And then there’s what the kid’s got under his clothes.

No, Tony did not undress him, but peeking out from under the cuffs of that sweatshirt and visible in the gap between pants and shoes is a very different sort of material. Durable, flexible, extremely form-fitting to be hidden so well by regular garments. Physically rifling through the kid’s sweatshirt pockets turned up a pair of gloves and mask, too. Very Halloween-y, Tony would probably jump out of his skin if he turned around to find those big white eyes looming out of the dark. Attached to the gloves, he also found a couple of small gadgets, fairly sophisticated, capable of spitting out an atrocious substance clear across the room. A large, sticky web still occupies the far wall by his bar as proof.

Those, Tony gingerly set down next to the girl’s watch, to be considered later. When their owners are awake, and capable of telling him things like hey don’t touch that button.

In the meantime, he’s finally accepted there isn’t much left to do but wait, idly replaying the security footage over and over, less idly hoping there’s some kind of change before any company arrives.

His luck, perhaps predictably, falls through.

“Sir,” JARVIS announces into the otherwise quiet room. “Miss Potts is on her way up.”

With a long, drawn out, highly exasperated sigh, Tony sets his empty glass aside and stands to face the music.

---

“Time travel,” Pepper says flatly. That’s a very clear, Pepperish tone of you can’t be serious. But before Tony has a chance to voice his defense, she’s already sighing, and bringing up a hand to rub at the bridge of her nose. “Why do you think this is time travel?”

So he starts reviewing the data.

The cartoon character that doesn’t exist yet only earns a raised eyebrow - when Tony gets into the particulars of the girl’s watch and trackers, Pepper looks a little less unamused, a little more disconcerted. Pointing out the boy’s suit and gadgets and drawing her attention to the web still occupying his wall even earns two whole startled blinks. “That’s... Tony.��

“Yeah.”

“Tony.”

“Yeah,” he repeats, fully in agreement. “But it’s either time travel, or R&D has been doing some serious overtime tinkering without letting either of us know!”

Pepper rubs a hand over her face, sighing again. When she pulls it away, her gaze goes to the pair of kids, girl still held in the boy’s arms, both of them laying on their sides where Tony managed to haul them up onto his sofa when the whole bizarre event began. “What do we do, then?”

“Not much we can do, besides haul them down to the infirmary and try injecting things to induce an early wake-up call.” Even as he says it, Tony swipes up and enlarges the holo-window with the energy reading and its total dissipation countdown. T-minus eight hundred and seventy-three seconds. “Otherwise, wait to see if anything happens in about fifteen minutes.”

Pepper let loose her third sigh, and went to get a glass of wine.

[all4minnie]

ew LMAO. this was something i made at like 4am a few days ago, I didn’t know what to do with it so i’m posting it. This is literally my very first post 😭🙏

A Forgotten Place, A Familiar Face

PAIRING : former UA student!reader (who lost their quirk) x class 1-A

SUMMARY : After the war, you lost your quirk and faded from the world of heroes, retreating into a small, forgotten life running a diner. Years pass, and your old friends from Class 1-A have moved on—except, they never truly forgot you. One day, unexpectedly, they walk into your restaurant, small-group-reunion being held, and the emotional weight of their return shatters the walls you've built around yourself. As you struggle with the feeling of being forgotten and unimportant, they remind you that you’ve always mattered to them. Over time, with their support, you rebuild your sense of belonging and finally find peace in knowing you are truly seen and loved.

WARNINGS : emotional/angsty content, mentions of self-doubt and self-criticism, mild injury (cutting finger), depictions of tears and breakdown, themes of Isolation and feelings of being forgotten, mentions Inability to keep up with others, emotional recovery and reconnection. (If i forgot anything, lmk!!)

THEME : angst, isolation, reconnection, self-worth & validation, regret & acceptance, fluff (?) at the end. (girl idfk, this my first time)

The clock on the wall ticks steadily. The greasy kitchen exhaust fan hums, and the sizzle of a fresh batch of fries fills the air. You wipe your hands on the apron, an over-worn, faded thing that’s seen more than a few messes. The restaurant you run isn’t much—a hole in the wall, really. It used to be a bustling place, full of potential. But now? It’s the same old regulars, the same tired faces. You had to let go of the hope that you’d ever make it big.

Your quirk—the one that once made you stand out among heroes—was gone. Disappeared when you almost didn’t make it out of that final battle. That was years ago. You weren’t a hero anymore. Hell, you weren’t even really a part of the world you once fought for.

You used to be close to them. To everyone. Class 1-A. You were all a team once, fighting side by side. All kinds of situations were you all, inevitably, pulled together even more. By tears? Stronger. By laughs? The bond was one you couldn’t imagine breaking. But that was before your life changed, before you were forgotten— A shatter of the world off somewhere new. But it wasn’t new to you anymore, years in this dump of a place. You couldn’t even remember the last time anyone reached out. It didn’t matter though, did it? You couldn’t force people to care. They had moved on, just like the world did after the war.

The bell above the door rings, cutting through the usual quiet hum of the diner. You don’t think much of it at first. Another customer, maybe. The door opens with that familiar creak, and you glance up automatically, your attention barely wavering from the plates in front of you. But something stops you—a voice.

“Hey, is this the right place?”

You freeze.

Your heart skips a beat. It’s so familiar—so unbelievably familiar that you feel like you've slipped through a crack in time. You look up, your eyes locking onto a face you haven’t seen in years. Izuku. His green hair, his nervous smile—it’s all the same, just as you remember. And behind him? Faces hard to forget. You almost can’t believe it. For a moment, your mind refuses to process what’s happening. But then, it hits you—the reality of the moment crashes down.

You weren’t expecting them. You hadn’t even thought about seeing them again. Yet here they are, standing in the doorway of your small, worn-down restaurant like a dream you once had, a dream you couldn’t quite let go of.

Before you can react, the plate in your hands slips, the porcelain crashing to the floor with a sharp, deafening sound. You gasp, eyes wide, your heart racing in your chest. The room feels too small. Too tight.

You kneel to pick up the pieces, your fingers trembling with the weight of everything that’s suddenly come flooding back. You reach for the shards, but as you do, your finger brushes one of the edges. A sharp pain slices through you. You barely register the blood beginning to trickle down your hand as you pull the glass pieces into your palm.

It’s funny. The glass is sharp, but it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the emptiness in your chest.

You let out a shaky laugh, but it’s hollow—empty. Like a laugh you’ve been practicing for too long. A joke you’ve told so many times that it doesn’t mean anything anymore. “Look at me... pathetic, huh?”

You don’t even try to wipe away the blood. The cut is small, but it stings, and it’s enough to remind you how much you’ve been pretending. You’ve been pretending to be okay for so long, acting like this quiet life you built for yourself was all you could ever have. But now, it’s so painfully obvious that you aren’t okay.

“I... I didn’t think anyone would come looking for me,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “Guess I was wrong. I mean, you’re here, right?” You wince as the blood keeps trickling down your finger, but you don’t even care anymore. “Huh. What a coincidence..” A scoff of a laugh escaped you, a deep sorrow tugging at your heart strings.

The rest of the group seemed to be frozen in place. That’s funny. Just like how you’ve been feeling for years. Then, as if something had clicked, Izuku steps forward, his voice soft but full of a sorrow you haven’t heard in years. “we... we thought you were lost. No one could find you. No one knew where you went.”

You chuckle bitterly, a tear slipping down your cheek that you hadn’t even meant to shed. “I guess I wanted to be lost,” you whisper. “I didn’t want anyone to find me. I didn’t want anyone to remember me... because I didn’t remember who I was anymore.” You wipe at your cheek, as if the tears are somehow less real if you ignore them.

Katsuki’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife, surprisingly gentle. “You think we forgot you? After everything, you think we’d just moved on?”

You shake your head, the laughter slipping into something darker. “I didn’t even move on, Bakugo. I couldn’t. I just... stopped mattering. People forgot, and it was easier that way. Easier to pretend I was never meant to be part of all that hero stuff. I wasn’t a hero, not without my quirk. Not after everything.”

You shrugged.

You stop talking, the words sticking in your throat. It doesn’t matter anymore, does it? The world’s gone on without you. They’ve gone on without you. New lives. Beautiful ones, too. You’re too deep in the excuse of yours to even envy them anymore.

But then, before you can close off again, Ochaco steps forward, her voice soft and warm. “You don’t get to decide you don’t matter. We get to decide that. You’ve always mattered. You always will.”

Tears fill your eyes again, more freely this time. “I thought... I thought I was just... forgotten.” Your voice cracks.

“I’m sorry,” Izuku whispers, kneeling beside you, his hands gently taking yours. “We should’ve tried harder. We should’ve done more.”

You pull your hand away slightly, shaking your head. “It’s not your fault. I... I was the one who disappeared.” You swallow, trying to force the lump in your throat down, but the words spill out anyway. “I didn’t think I was ever going to be here again. I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you guys again.”

“We’re here now. We’re not going anywhere. You don’t have to carry this by yourself anymore.”

And then, in that moment, it all falls away. The weight of the past, the years of solitude, the feeling of being invisible, all of it disappears. You’re not the same person you were when you lost everything. You’re someone who is finally seen— truly seen. And for the first time in so long, you can breathe again.

The restaurant is busier now, the scent of sizzling food mixing with the laughter of old friends catching up. The once worn-down walls are brightened, the mismatched tables now having the touch of home. Your apron is cleaner—neater—but it still bears the marks of a life lived in small moments, a life rebuilt piece by piece.

And they’re all here— your people, not just as memories but as the living, breathing souls you thought you'd lost forever. Izuku, with his ever-present smile; Ochaco, light and bubbly; Bakugo, still as blunt as ever, but with an unspoken warmth underneath; Shoto, Mina, Kaminari, and just a few other people you’ve fallen close to, back into the piece of the puzzle board once missing. They’re not just visitors. They’re friends. Molds of your soul.

You stand behind the counter, wiping down the counter when Sero calls you over. “Hey! come sit with us. We’ve got something to talk about.”

You look at them—each face as familiar as your own reflection. But this time, there's no doubt. No fear of being forgotten. No sense that you don’t belong.

You smile, that same old, genuine smile that had been buried for so long. “I’m coming,” you reply, your voice steady now, the cracks filled with something solid—hope, maybe. Or maybe just the quiet joy of knowing you’ll never be forgotten again.

As you join them at the table, the weight of the years lifts. It’s just a group of old friends now, no longer separated by time, by distance, by the fractured memories of the past. You are seen. You are loved.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel... whole.

ALRIGHT this was low-key gonna just sit in my damned drafts but i’m fighting that urge. maybe AT LEASSTTT one person will like this so 🤷‍♀️ we ball nonetheless. it’s low-key poorly written, barley even authentic and genuine but i just wrote it to feel something. ANYWAY!

[almayver]

GMM2025 Lineup Game / Tier List

Rules: write your thoughts on all the GMMTV series pilots released (or just the ones you plan to watch) and tag people whose thoughts you wanna know about!

@jojotichakorn @wangxianinventedromance and @valentinaonthemoon tagged me in basically different variations of this, so I'm gonna smush them all together. Thanks for tagging me 😊 I love to be given the chance to ramble.

Prefacing this with a reminder that I am the personification of CinemaWins so I find things to like in everything, and that I was born to yap, so this will be long :)

I'm going to do it in the order of the trailers and put the tier list at the bottom. I'm adding a twist to mine and tracking the most important thing to me, Will I cry? (mostly just so I can look back and see if my guess was correct)

Dare you to death: I LOVE a good murder mystery. Yes. Give it to me. Snarky partners solving a crime was THE dynamic i was raised on and I still love it. It's going to be so entertaining trying to pick up clues and stuff while seeing these two bicker and fall in love. Don't think ill cry on this one, but serial killers, brothers, possibility of whump? There's a chance.

Head 2 Head: FUCK YES. Starting with the fact that I adore SeaKeen with all my heart, this one has me so invested!! Their bickering-flirting? ON POINT. When Sea says the line of “I've been saving my lips for you for ages” while flipping him off?? Yeah, that's my shit. But add to that the whole magic plot of seeing that they are in love and together years in the future, but then he dies!!! In his arms!!!! Yes. Yes. Just yes. “I will do anything to prevent that from happening…except not loving you”?? Yep. They made this show for me specifically, the rest of you can stay only if you are nice. The side couple also has me 👀. Basically, I loved every single second of it, and I'm ready for it. Oh, I will absolutely cry. No doubts about this one. These boys had me weeping with their soft rom-com, adding looming visions of death to it? yes, I'm ready to cry.

Burnout Syndrome: I'm intrigued by this one! Looks very messy and full of complex feelings all around, with some very very interesting characters. I don't actually have more to say about it except !!!, and it's on the watch list for sure! Hmm from what I get, I'm thinking is going to be more in the stressful, thoughtful side than in the emotional one for me, so maybe teary eyes but not full-blown crying.

I Love “A Lot Of” You: I've only seen one thing in which this topic didn't feel wildly offensive, so. Hmm. Even without that whole can of worms, I'm not fully interested in it? It seems cute and fun I guess, and the title is very sweet but eeeh. Not in the watch list for now, unless it gets some strong endorsements once it starts airing.

Whale Store xoxo: Oh this looks lovely! So so so warm and sweet. Having a character in just full-blown crisis and feeling lost, is always the best way to get into my heart. Add to that a sweet girl, full of joy, trying to help?! And the You've got mail vibes with the whole small business being threatened by the family of the love interest, plus feeling a duty to the store because of a parent without knowing if its what you truly want? Say less babe, I'm there, I'm seated. The side couple story also has me really intrigued. Oh yeah, tears will be very much present. Not full on wailing, but rom coms do make me cry, I see some tears due to both the angst and the character finding herself.

Only Friends-Dream On: Making the entire first half of the trailer one shot that manages to explain all the dynamics is enough for me to put it in the watch list no questions asked. I haven't watched Only Friends and from the bits I know and have seen I know I wouldn't enjoy it purely for weird personal reasons. This however? Oh yeah bestie sign me up, ill have popcorn ready, let the messiness begin. Also, the cast is insane and as someone who was absolutely taken by Ohm and Leng week after week, I'm so excited. Hmm, I'm going for yes. At least one of these assholes is going to be broken in a way that speaks to me and I will cry about it, I see it in my future. (Side note, please tell me I'm not the only one that laughed at the characters being called Jack and Dean)

That Summer: I CHEERED. Troublemaker sent to the beach to find some discipline finds a kind, amnesiac prince is something that i didn't know I needed so hard but fuck i do. It's going to be so fucking charming, and it has this very quiet emotional vibe to it that I'm going to eat up weekly, yes sir. I have no thoughts except loud cheering, I'm just excited for it. I was going to say I hope it comes in summer like that means anything to me. pft. Umm, yeah probs some tears, nothing too big, but I can see some emotional moments hitting hard specially considering the two people acting here. *side eyes that We Are scene that I still can't fucking rewatch because it did enough damage once*

My Romance Scammer: Marriage scam!!!!! I could cry of joy. This is the kind of shit I love sorry. It's so messy and at its core very silly, and I'm just going to have such a good time watching. It's going to be fun! I also feel like some of the backstories of these characters are going to be interesting and emotional, I'm excited for that. I was going to say I won't cry, but I always cry with fictional weddings and I'm guessing some sort of “real” wedding is going to happen at the end that will break me, so maybe.

Melody of Secrets: I'm fucking thrilled. As a horror fan, I don't know what I did to get this gift but ill fucking take it, thank you. This was SO WEIRD!!! Isn't that great!! What the fuck was happening? Is it ghosts, is it magic, is it a curse, is it trauma? I don't know, and the character doesn't know either, and ooof the journey we will go in while trying to figure it out! My only request for this show is that I want to say “What the fuck??” every episode. That's all. Whether I cry or not depends on where they are going with it so, no clue. Possibly.

Love you teacher: I had such a strong negative reaction to this, that it kind of went back around, and now it's in my watch list? It was a journey. So, fun fact about me, one of the fanfiction tropes that I adore the most and I will eat up every single time it pops up even though it's not that common is amnesia in an established couple (I'm sure no one was kind of scared I was going to say something else). I just love the idea of a couple having to kind of fall in love again, with the angst of one of them not knowing anything while the other has all the memories and feelings. It's specially interesting if the person with amnesia has a very different life in the present to what they expected/think they should have, or in a enemies to lovers dynamic? it fucks. So I was really really excited. And then he was 7 years old, and I got so shocked I stopped processing the trailer. But now I'm intrigued. I want to see if this show is going to surprise me, I'm going to be there seated for the first couple of episodes at least because there is something there that just, its intriguing. I think there is a chance this one will be special. I mean if I hate it I can just stop watching right? No big deal. The other thing is that Dome gave me a show so fucking special to me that I have to give the dude a chance. He already surprised me. I trust him enough to know that this will be fun at the very least. And also, if I do stick with it, tears 1000% guaranteed. The emotional beats of this will hit, absolutely, and motherfucker over there knows how to hit you with emotions with the simplest stuff.

MU-TE-LUV: Yeah so I'm probs only watching the SeaKeen and OhmLeng parts. Those are actually so compelling to me and I love watching them act, so I will be having fun with those stories. The rest fully depends on my mood and what other people are saying when it airs. Also, the Dew one that is just Amarres: la serie, kind of seems interesting. I kind of doubt this one will pull my heartstrings much but hey I'm willing to be surprised!

Cat for Cash: I have my blanket and my warm drink ready, I will be seating there just cooing at everything and feeling all the emotions. This is going to be a chill watch, it's going to be fun, and I love it for it. The familial shit is going to break me and sell me for parts, so that's going to be fun. And yes, absolutely going to cry, no-brainer.

Girl Rules: We all cheered. So what is going to happen is that I'm going to liveblog this, absolutely, and all the liveblogs are just going to be me being in love with Namtan, and I need everyone to be cool with that. In all seriousness, leaving behind my gigantic crush on her, this is going to be so gooood. Messy!!!! Hot!! FUN!!!!! The dynamics between all the characters are already delicious, and i can't wait for this one, it's going to be great. Grabbing pop corn and something to fan myself with. The NamtanFilm relationship has some real potential to pull some tears from me.

Boys in love: I love fluffy shit, sue me. We are going to sit here, and giggle and kick our feet and have a good ass time while doing it. The Chokun and Aston relationship drew me in so hard, I'm going to live there, but everything was just so sweet and delightful!! Its a fun time. Honestly, yeah, I can see a couple of tears. Not sad tears but more like, overwhelmed with softness kind of tears.

My Magic Prophecy: Once again, angsty visions of the future are always compelling to me, so I'm here for this. It's kind of in the same level as Burnout where I'm not shaking chihuahua levels of excitement but I'm interested! The relationship seems fun and touching, the science vs. magic thing could be interesting. If I get invested enough, yeah crying for sure.

A Dog and A Plane: I'm sure no one who has spent more than a minute in my blog knows this, but i fucking love these two so much. Shocker, I know. But seriously, they have something that makes me 20000% invested whenever they are together on screen and i didnt want to hope for a new show but i was secretly wishing for it and the universe decided to throw me a bone the size of Jupiter. And to add to it, they are bickering, they are horny, New is a fancy flight attendant and Tay Tawan is a paramedic with tattoos that wears a lot of tank tops. They both think the other one is better than them in some way. The plot is just the kind of rom com i eat up. And I know, I KNOW, I'm going to cry. I cry every time these two are involved. They will have one vulnerable moment and i will be in the corner cheeering with tears in my eyes. They will have the conflcit and the same thing will happen. They will have the happy ending and i will be weeping. I'm so fucking happy. Just one thing. I need them to fuck in that plane. I dont care where, I dont care how, but it has to happen. I have that small wish. Oh and MarcPoon!!!! Their bits seem so so good too.

Me and Thee: I made the joke that I read this Phumpeem au before, because actually yeah kind of, but also because these are the exact same vibes that drew me to Phum. The characters are super different and so cool, but oh lonely rich boy!!!!!!! I'm gonna have a new one for my list. And this one is so weird! and a dork! and loves soap operas so he is speaking my language. I love him already. The plot is also just for me. Teach me how to hit on someone?? And he uses it all on him!! yes yesssss. I cant wait to see more of them. I cant wait to see them each fall in love in such different ways and the conflict has the opportunity to be so so so my thing. In terms of crying, he is a sad lonely boy, i dont have to say more. I'm ready to imprint on him and feel very emotional.

WU: This was less of a plot and more of a "here, we heard you, they'll keep working together, dont kill us". I haven watched their show yet because of a silly reson, but i had been planning on binging it before the last episode next week, so im excited!! The brief glimpse we got compels me, i love me some red string of fate.

Memoir of Rati: I said I could watch them read the dictionary (and i fucking meant it) and instead they give me an intense period show??? I could cry. Look, one could say Great Sapol single handedly got me back into live bloging, i have a debt with the guy, add to that the fact that him and Inn became two of my favorite actors ever in just a couple of episodes? Yeah I'm here for this. They have an insane chemistry that is such a joy to watch, and i dont mind period shows, they arent my favorite but I find them charming if done right and they often teach me new things. These two are about to eat the shit out of these roles and i will be clapping while suffering. Also the AouBoom story is so interesting too!!! No notes. I'm going to cry like a baby multiple times. I still cry with their fake break up. This is going to kill me. Can't wait.

Ticket To Heaven: First let me list some fun facts about me. I was raised catholic in a very catholic family in one of the most catholic countries in the world. I still live in a house where my room is the only one that doesnt have some form of religious imagery. Bare a pop opera and Jesus christ superstar are two of my favorite musicals of all time. I ran away from religion before my confirmation but after my first communion, and every time i think about it i discover some new complicated feeling about it and a fun trauma it left behind. I am right now wearing a Look Khunnoo shirt.

They made this show for me and its going to break me. I'm already making playlists for it. I keep listening to Heaven while staring at the wall. This is just, gods, this is everything to me. The vibes of it are just so so so delicious. The aesthetic? The quotes? I am so going to relate more with Gemini's character, and thats going to be a fun painful little trip. And of course. These boys. I adore them. I'm ready to be killed by them acting the shit out of every single frame. I am going to cry in ways that will be dangerous to my health. I can't wait. There is no way that the ending isn't going to fuck me up, whether is super tragic, a time skip, a hopeful ending. Its going to be a Thing. Fucking Rosa de Guadalupe got me with its gay episode. and its. La rosa de guadalupe. This? Will murder me. I will listen to the ost and cry instantly like i do with Bare.

Basically im excited :)

And the tier list!!

I kind of did it in the scale of how much is it going to make me feel like a dog waiting for its owner, sadly pawing at the door, wanting to be let in.

I think everyone I would tag on this has already done it or has already been tagged so if you see this and you have thoughts that you want to share, you are tagged. This is legally binding. I want to hear your thoughts

If you read all that you can reclaim a cookie before leaving

[shannonsketches]

Why is the anime so weird, it's not even the same series dude?? It's like,

Anime:

GOKU: I have a great idea to bring peace to the universe, and my leadership and compassion alone will unite us all. I have No Flaws and am A True Relatable Everyman :)

VEGETA: NO! I AM THE BEST AND I WILL CAUSE PROBLEMS UNTIL I AM RECOGNIZED AS SUCH!!!!

Manga:

GOKU: Vegeta what's cornmeal made of? I know it's what the corn eats, but what's it made of? VEGETA: Hey Kakarot let's play the quiet game until one of us dies.

[queenoforeos]

Ruian scowled. “I’m afraid I don’t have a way of preventing that at the moment… but give me some time, and I’ll do whatever I can to sever your connection to the system. It’s risky, and there’s no guarantee that you’ll still be… functional… after this, but it’s the best I can do.”

Functional.

Ena didn’t like that word being used to describe her. It gave her an unsettling feeling.

“In the meantime… I don’t know how much comfort this will be,” Ruian admitted, “but I believe I can create a backup of your consciousness. If we need to, I can make a new body for you.”

it would be so funny if mizuki’s secret just. wasn’t related to their gender like at all

like of course it obviously is but what if. “yeah im (gender) but everyone already knows that it’s not even a secret my secret is that im actually super rich and have 93 billion dollars stashed under my bed”

and then we kill them and ransack their house and split all the money between us

[dw-flagler]

its kind of funny to me that in the comics supergirl kind of occupies the spot for like the edgy superman. which is kind of weird for her typical role as kid sidekick to superman because her thing as a character (at least the versions of her character that i like) is that she doesn't have a reason to help anybody and doesn't like earth. edgy superman. but she's also the kid sidekick. strange juxtaposition