#his friend who's already going through a lot of hurt

[kisses4reid]

scare | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,, (part 1)

synopsis - you’re in a relationship with some one else and have a pregnancy scare, both your own reaction and spencer’s makes you realise that you’re not happy.

genre - bau!reader x spencer, friends to lovers, multi-part, pregnancy scare, reader has sort of a douche bf, one sided love (at first), angst and fluff

warnings - pregnancy talk, mentions of sex, unhealthy relationships, stress, sickness

w/c - 1.4k?? take a guess cause that’s mine.

a/n - i’ve got 9 weeks free. yeah, i have a job. and yeah, i have about 6 other hobbies i enjoy. but am i gonna make promises i can’t keep about writing more?? yeah. i am. here, enjoy. (pls lemme know abt mistakes it’s rlly late at night rn.)

The plane whirrs, small chatter from Morgan and who you assumed to be Penelope over the phone humming along with the music you try to distract yourself with. It isn’t working.

Because every song has its own special and quirky musical instrument that happens to sound like a message notification. And you keep getting your hopes up.

Your left leg started to bounce, your fingernails found their way to your anxious teeth. And Spencer noticed.

He noticed about halfway through the case, when you stopped talking as much, started drinking an influx of water, started discreetly taking pain medication. At first, he thought it was a simple stomach bug, and he knew your stomach didn’t agree with a lot of travel. But then you started getting nervous.

Spencer glanced at you a few times before moving, sitting next to you (attempting to be discreet). He can’t be discreet though, because every time he’s around you, his body does this weird thing where it can’t decide whether it should be instantly calm or instantly more nervous. Your presence stopped his fidgeting hands, his tired thoughts. But god, when he looked at you, it’s like his heart wants to see you for itself.

And right now his heart hurt, why were you scared?

You barely noticed Spencer sit down, usually you would, but your phone was annoyingly blank, silent. You turned it off and on three times, and re-entered the plane’s wifi password five times.

And now your stomach was grumbling, and not in the way that those nice small sandwiches can help out with.

“Are you okay?”

You jumped, taking your earphones out and staring at Spencer surprised. You laughed nervously, quietly, “Spencer! Sorry. Yeah, I’m fine.”

His warm eyes searched yours and for a second you could ignore the tight feeling in your chest. It made you think back around 8 months ago, when Penelope, your childhood best friend and now co-worker, created a pros and cons list for both Lloyd, and… Spencer.

It was unprofessional and inappropriate, especially when you decided to listen because you had nothing better to do. And especially when she started making some good points.

He squinted his eyes, and you sighed.

“Sorry, I’m just a bit antsy. Feeling a bit… off.”

You felt sick, and stressed, and like your thoughts were going to be the cause of your death. Because you’ve never been sick like this. And to your overworked brain, it only meant one thing.

Spencer’s a great profiler. And although the team collectively agreed to not profile each other, it becomes hard for Spencer when the girl he’s in love with is so obviously in distress. Even worse when he can’t be the hero.

“I can leave you to sleep if you want.” He says, getting up to leave.

“Oh, no. That’s okay. Honestly, I think sleeping would just make it worse.”

Ah, right. Travel sickness, Spencer thought. He gaps his mouth slightly and nods. He relaxes into the couch and looks over to you, heart picking up slightly as pieces of hair fell from your loose ponytail.

You looked over to the table he was previously sat at, the book you gifted him last Christmas open and nearly finished. You smiled to yourself, but it was bittersweet.

“You’re actually reading it?” You asked, looking back at him with slight surprise.

“Of course. I’ve read it 6 times already, it’s a great pallet cleanser- Just like you said in that Christmas card!” He smiled childishly, like he was recalling the first snow.

“I know right! It’s so simple but interesting, I mean I’ve only read it three times but to me I always found it to clear my head.”

Spencer angled himself towards you, “Did you know that the author actually interviewed his daughter’s teachers to see what ages teachers were more invested in compared to class sizes? He said in an interview that depending on a students intelligence, there’s an underlying emotional connection made between student and teacher,” he took a breath, “It plays into the intelligence to ego ratio that so many people claim isn’t true. Which I’m not trying to say you have a big ego, or that I do-“

You waved you hands, “Woah, woah. Why would I think you’re talking about me?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Well, you’re very intelligent.”

“Oh!… Thanks for thinking I’m intelligent, or smart.” You shrugged, “But I think you insulted yourself. You don’t have a 187 IQ for nothing do you?”

“You remembered my IQ?” He laughed nervously. His smile warms your chest like a candle. Like that candle he got you randomly in April, after you mentioned your favourite one being used up by your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend. Ugh.

You smile falters for only a second, “Of course. You only mention it to every person that second guesses you.”

He nods and smiles, “Must be my ego.”

You laugh, subconsciously bumping your shoulder with his. But- Jesus. Your stomach is queasy.

“Hey, uh, do you want some travel sickness pills?” He reached over for his satchel but you grab his forearm and smile as convincingly as you can.

“No, no. We’re landing soon, but thank you.”

You’re overreacting.

That’s what he said. When you texted your boyfriend of a year and a half that you thought you were pregnant he said, You’re overreacting. Two words, two hours after your first text, on his day off.

Maybe you are. You started feeling sick on a slightly more gory case, it’s lasted ever since the case started, you get travel sick as well.

The headaches are from the computer screen and stress. The stress is from fatigue. The fatigue is because of the lack of sleep. The lack of sleep is because of the headaches.

Why do you always do this? Always thinking that there’s something wrong with you. Always being the biggest person in your own life, selfish.

But… what if?

There’s a sudden squeak from behind you, and you instantly snapped out of it. You took a deep breath and looked at your surroundings. You were at your desk, standing, the strap of your bag clutched in your hands - god, your knuckles were white. Your eyes darted in surprise and confusion, and you jumped once again when Spencer spoke into the silence.

“You okay?”

“Um…”

You didn’t look back at him, only looking down at your shoes and taking a deep breath. You plastered on a smile despite the bile collecting in your throat.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve gonna go, the bus leaves at um…”

You took out your phone. He didn’t even respond to your text asking him to pick you up.

“I’ll drive you home. But uh, I gotta pick up some groceries. I hope you don’t mind.”

He curved to your desk and gently took your bag from your hands, glancing at the way you traced your knuckles and how the leather strap now had slight wrinkles in it. He smiled, warmly. And he started walking like you rejecting the idea wasn’t an option.

Which is wasn’t, because he knew you too well.

“Well, a cucumber actually has 3% more water than watermelon. So if you really want a refreshing snack, cucumber is your man.”

You smiled and raised your eyebrows in interest. He’s had many vegetables and fruits in the basket, not a lot of protein. Explained a lot.

My man, you thought with a smile.

My man, you shivered.

“I don’t like cucumbers.” You said like it was distraction, and he nodded, picking up some kewpie mayo as he you around to the next aisle. He glanced at you,

“I know. You say it’s tasteless. I like it.” He shrugged.

“I know.” You smiled, and he smiles back.

God, you wish you could bask in it, the warmth. But your chest was still tingly, and your heart hadn’t stopped aching ever since you got excited about an email notification.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay? I noticed you’ve been tense for like… a week.” He grabbed some pasta sauce and put his hand on your shoulder to turn you around - you obviously looked too far into your own head.

“Yeah, just feeling-“

“Y/n.” He turned to you, stopping your venture into the dairy aisle. His eyes were hard, worried. The fluorescent lights swayed slightly. A worker walked by the end of the aisle with a trolley full of food.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t,” he lifted one arm, wanting to rest his hand on your upper arm, to help you, “Don’t say sorry. Just tell me what’s going on.”

“I have been feeling sick. That’s true. And I’ve been stressed and, thinking a lot. A lot.”

It felt weird to nearly tell Spencer about your relationship problems. It was like complaining to a doctor about healing crystals. It was like a slap in the face. Maybe that’s why you never did tell him about it, because it was facing your fears.

It was the pros and cons list made by Penelope.

But I’m overreacting.

“It’s nothing.”

Spencer sighed. You had that habit, of nearly opening up, and then shutting the door just as he was about to walk in.

You heard his sigh.

“Okay. I gave Lloyd my car because he has the day off, and he likes going to his friends houses on his days off. And, I told him something that should probably freak him out. But he doesn’t really care. I don’t think he really cares, about anything. At least about me.”

You started walking, because holy shit you’ve never said that out loud before, and Spencer followed you,

“Y/n, if you want to tell me something-“

“I think I’m pregnant.” You stopped, and started picking at your fingers, acting as if it was admitting to not knowing your left and rights, or that you don’t really like coconut.

His eyes widen, and his heart drops. It was like his worst nightmare coming true- jesus, how could he even think about himself right now? The girl he loved felt trapped with a man she thought might be the father of her baby.

Spencer gulped, “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

You looked at each other, scared, you more than him. And then you cringed,

“God, I’m sorry Spencer. I shouldn’t have said anything-“

“No- Y/n, it’s fine. I’m glad you told me-“

“I haven’t even, like, taken a test yet-“

“Wait so-”

You spun on your heel and looked at him exasperated.

“So… let’s go get some tests.” He said (he hopes) calmly. He was really trying, to pretend to be calm and collected. That’s what you needed, a clear head to replace yours.

He paid for everything, even the 5 pregnancy tests and the over sized lollipop you put in the basket to ease your nerves later on.

The moon was high, you were about three hours late to get home now, and your head was attacking itself with rambles and aches and honestly, you were sick of it.

You shivered, huddling in your jacket and drawing only slightly closer to Spencer. His silence was like a hook, drawing you in closer and higher and taking every word you had been thinking that day to the tip of your tongue.

You looked up to him. His hair fell into his eyes, the breeze reddening his cheeks slightly.

It’s Spencer. You’ve known him for nearly 6 years, but it feels like you’ve known each other for ever. You know everything about him, and he knows everything about you. Well, not everything. He doesn’t know how you feel in your own apartment, how every anniversary had been forgotten even when it was the ‘1 year’ mark, how you felt like you were raising an over grown child who could drink.

He knows you’re strong, but admitting all that? I’d look weak.

You have looked weak in front of Spencer. He stayed overnight in your hospital room, he held you when you watched a little girl die, he wiped your tears when you watched a sad short film during your break.

You couldn’t hide anything from him.

“I don’t think I’m pregnant- Well, I mean I might be, but there’s a very low chance,” You started, Spencer’s jaw clenched for a millisecond, “I’ve just been feeling sick and… it could be because of stress from work, or just general stress- like, I don’t know.”

Spencer moved the grocery bag to his other hand.

“Kids are great, don’t get me wrong. Some people don’t get the chance to have kids. I mean…” You gulped, and Spencer finally looked down at you. But now, all you could do was stare at the car park’s concrete floor. Speaking out loud was like clearing your brain, the fog was lifting. “Lloyd doesn’t want kids. I do, at least in the future, not right now. I just hope it’s not with-“ You cut yourself off, and slow down a bit. Spencer matches your pace.

I just hope it’s not with him.

He gulps, and clears his throat, looking down at you with understanding eyes, “With everything that’s going on.”

“Yeah… yeah. You know, my job, my…” It’s no use lying to Spencer. He knows. He’s known, for a long time.

Your chest was tight, and you made eye contact with the pregnancy tests lying on top of Spencer’s groceries. The thought of going home, rushing to the bathroom, avoiding your boyfriend who was already waiting angry, made your throat close up. Because only now, when you were three hours late from work and ignoring his one attempt at a phone call, Lloyd texted, ‘I think you need to calm down.’ It was a bare minimum, and finally Spencer could see you realizing it.

No, ‘Wre you okay?’, ‘What’s making you think this?’ ‘Where are you?’

No. He was making you out to be the crazy one, the one to be over thinking, over bearing, too much.

You were confused. To put it blankly. And scared. And questioning your life decisions. And honestly you just wanted to curl up in a ball and to have Spencer make you bad cucumber salad at his warm apartment.

You looked up to Spencer but he was already looking down at you, reaching for his keys and nodding, “You can come to mine, it’ll be okay.”

taglist (open) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover @c-losur3 @littlelearningbrat @khxna @laurakirsten0502 @cultish-corner

[wqlfstqr]

◟𖥻 ♡⃕ spider boy, king of thieves:

spiderman ! percy jackson

▰▰▰ pairing(s): percy jackson x female!reader.

Spider-boy, king of thieves Weave your little webs of opacity

author: percy jackson is the textbook definition of a peter parker variant, fight me

y/n loved Percy Jackson, she was sure of it. Had been sure of it for years now. For some time, she had been sure, too, that those feelings were one hundred percent reciprocated.

Percy and her, they had this pull towards each other, or that's what everyone else seemed to believe when they said the two of them were perfect for each other. Sadly, y/n was aware that the fairytale everyone seemed to buy was far from perfect and, as much as she wanted to be with him, something always seemed to get in the way.

This was the thrid time they broke up, and y/n was sure it was going to be the final time. Of course, they always seemed to find their way back to each other but she couldn't allow that to happen another time. As much as she loved him, she simply couldn't.

Because dating Percy was a mess, a hurtful mess. it wasn't always like that. they used to be happy and in love, but then he started disappearing for hours with no communication, arriving late to pick her up or standing her up on dates, and he always gave some kind of made up explanation about it. The last straw was when he arrived two hours late to the winter dance he had promised to take her and then refused to tell her why.

y/n's friends seemed to think there had to be two explanations: he was cheating on her or losing feelings for her. Either way, she didn’t want to find out, so she broke up with him before he had the chance to break her heart again. Now there was absolutely no going back, even if all she wanted to do was call him back and take back everything, that wouldn't even work since he never even answered his phone.

"so this is the last time, huh?" her best friend said skeptically, as if she really didn’t believe her. Fair enough, she had already gone back to him two times already.

"yes, and you'll see I really mean it this time." she reassured her friend as she held her phone in between her ear and her shoulder, her hands busy while she went through her closet. "this trip is just what I need, when I'm back I won't even remember who Percy Jackson is."

That was hardly the truth, but at least she hoped she could begin to get over him while she was away for the holidays. She was going to Boston to visit family there, and maybe some time apart from the city and from Percy would be just what she needed.

"y/n, you know I love you" her friend started and she was taking the clothes she needed for the trip but she paused when she heard her tone. "but I find that hard to believe."

y/n was about to reply in her defense, when her gaze landed on a blue sweater in her closet. Percy's sweater. She didn’t even know how long it had been there, but she knew exactly what to do.

"i'm being serious, I'll even go and give him his things back before I go to Boston." she decided, dropping her own clothes in her suitcase before taking the sweater from her closet.

that was something she had never done in the past two breakups, and she did have a lot of his stuff just hanging around in her room. Some of his clothes, his camera from the last time he came around, some of his books, drawings, comics, even the christmas gift she had already bought and wrapped for him weeks ago.

She hadn't realized how much of his stuff she had until she hung up on her friend and she already had a box full of his things. It was difficult not to cry while going through it all, everything held a memory behind it and every memory having anything to do with Percy was painful enough to bring tears to her eyes.

Still, she managed to keep her feelings in check as she took the box and walked out of her apartment, thankfully her parents seemed to be too busy packing to have any questions as she slipped out of the front door. Then, walking to Percy's was easy enough since he didn’t live too far from her, so twenty minutes later she stood upside of his apartment with the box in one hand as she knocked with the other one.

It wasn't Percy that came to open, and she should've been grateful that it was Sally instead, but her smile almost dropped because maybe she had wanted to see him. Still, Sally was too sweet not to smile at her as she opened the door. "y/n! what are you doing out in this cold? and without sweater!"

something she could admit was that she was going to miss was Sally, Percy's mom was just the sweetest and always cared for y/n like she was family. And now the tears were threatening to spill again.

"I wasn't planning on spending too much time out of my house." she started, biting the inside of her cheek because she couldn't, for the love of God, cry in front of Sally. "I was just dropping Percy's stuff off."

Sally looked at the box in her hands and finally seemed to register what was happening, her smile fading slowly as she now looked at the teenager with pity. y/n knew she was probably aware of the break up, Percy always told Sally everything, but it was hard having to stand there and act all tough when the woman was looking at her with such sadness.

still, Sally was nothing if not positive, so after a second she smiled again. "he's not here right now, but you can come in and wait for him if you want." she opened the door further, as if welcoming her in.

and y/n knew she shouldn't, she should just leave the box with Sally and forget all about Percy, but she simply couldn't say no to Sally. And, well, she hadn't seen Percy since last week, it would hurt to see him one last time. Maybe make sure he was doing alright.

"okay" she nodded and stepped into the apartment, following behind Sally as she beamed at her.

Of course, Sally gave her some hot cocoa and blue chocolate chip cookies while she waited, and she made sure to avoid the breakup topic when they both sat down to talk. y/n loved Sally, she was always full of stories and advice and a kind of motherly love y/n herself wasn't used to receiving from her own mother.

But after an hour, Percy hadn't came back and Sally didn’t have a clue where he was, so she sent y/n to wait for him in his room while she went to run some errands. Which y/n should've refused to do but yet again didn’t.

"And y/n?" Sally called as she opened the door, the younger girl was still amazed at how much the woman trusted her just to leave her there. "I can't say I know what exactly happened between you and Percy, but I can tell you he cares about you."

Yeah, that's what y/n had wanted to believe for years, what everyone always told her. But now she wasn't so sure about it, still, she smiled at Sally and let her go before she went into Percy's room, which was exactly how she remembered from the last time she had been there.

She tried not to look around too much, knowing she would feel too nostalgic about it all, instead she busied herself with playing some game on her phone while she waited. Unfortunately, thirty minutes later Percy hadn't arrived and she was already too tired of waiting for him. That's all she ever did. So she stood up from his bed, leaving the box there and shortly after making her way to the door while the dissapointment settled in her stomach.

but then just as she was about to turn the knob, she heard some ruffling behind her back and then the noise of Percy's window opening. She immediatly turned around, her heart racing as she expected to find some thief entering through the window, yet she had to stop herself from screaming when she didn’t find thief but, far from it, Spider-man.

what was Spider-man doing in Percy's room? As he entered the room, y/n put her hands over her mouth to stiffle a stragled sound. Spider-man didn’t seem to realize she was there as he started crawling through the roof.

y/n was gaping at the superhero, unsure of what to do as her mind raced through countless scenarios. Yet, nothing could have prepared her for what happened next. She let out a squeak she couldn’t contain when Spider-Man started to remove his mask, catching his attention

wait wait wait y/n froze when she realized- first she recognized the hair. his hair. the one she had ran her fingers through countless of times. When he finally turned around, she already knew who he was.

Percy looked as shocked as she was once his eyes finally found her, her pale face and her back against the door she had been trying to open just seconds before. "this is not what you think it is." he blurted out, still hanging from the roof.

She had trouble finding her voice again. "so you're not Spider-man, you just go around crawling on people's ceilings dressed as him?" she asked, surprised at the slight sarcasm in her shocked voice.

He let go of the roof, y/n was about to point out that his amazing landing didn’t exactly help his case at all, but he looked at her with panic in his eyes so she shut her mouth. "well maybe it is what it looks like."

She lost her breath, and she knew she had to sit down soon, so she simply walked past him and took a seat in his bed, exactly where she had been minutes before. Percy's eyes shifted at the box placed beside her, and he looked like he was about to question it before he shook his head and pushed it away so he could sit.

"So you're Spider-man." she managed to say after a few seconds of silence that felt like hours.

"I guess I am." he replied, shrugging like it wasn't a big deal at all, for a moment y/n wanted to throw something at him but now that she knew he was Spider-man, it was likely he was going to catch it before it even came close to hitting him.

That thought opened the door for many others as realization dawned on her: Every time he caught something without even looking, every time he was late to dates or disappeared for hours only to reappear suddenly—she realized it all added up. The missed calls, unanswered messages, and the times he stood her up, and-

"Oh my god, is this why you were late for the winter dance?" he seemed to hesitate before he nodded slowly, she averted her eyes to look at anything but him, she couldn't look at him right now. "so you let me break up with you instead of just telling me the truth?"

"it's not-" he stopped himself, taking a deep breath before he could go on. "it's not like that, I just wanted to keep you safe."

She didn’t know if she was annoyed or sad, but she sure as hell wanted to cry. "Percy you've been lying to me, that's not fair."

Percy rubbed the back of his neck, looking directly at her even though she wasn't looking at him. "I know it’s not fair. I know I messed up. But I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me. I thought you’d be safer if you didn’t know, if I kept you away from me."

"Safer?" she scoffed, finally meeting his gaze with her eyes filled with tears. "Percy, you don't get to decide that for me. Do you know how much it hurt to think you didn’t care? I thought I wasn't enough for you for so long."

Seeing the tears in her eyes made Percy want to reach and hug her, but he knew her too much to know that she would probably pull away. "I care about you, that's why I did it." he felt like he was drowning as he tried to explain himself. "you mean everything to me, I wouldn't want to risk putting you in danger."

Her lips trembled as the anger melted into exhaustion. She wanted so badly to just let it go and fall back again into his arms, but the wound in her chest still ached. "You should’ve told me. I would've understood you."

He hesitated, his shoulders sagging as he admitted, "I was scared, okay? Scared the people after me would use you to get to me. Do you think I wanted you to feel like this? To lose you to this?"

The room fell silent again, but after a moment she looked away and stood up from the bed, she couldn't bear another minute there "I don’t know if I can forgive you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Not right now."

And with that, Percy let her go. He had so many things to say, but he knew it wasn't the right time, it was better to just give her some time to think. But he also knew that she wouldn't let her walk away again, not this time. Not ever again.

y/n's parents were very mad at her but she couldn't bring herself to care just yet. The boston trip would've been an excellent idea after all the mess with Percy, but instead she had decided to skip it altogether and stay home for christmas.

Fortunately, New York was big enough so that she could avoid running into Percy. Unfortunately, it was difficult not to think about him when everything reminded her of him.

y/n loved to spend her afternoons walking through the bustling streets of New York. Right in that moment, she was trying to distract herself, but everything reminded her of him: the street vendor they always stopped by for pretzels, the bookstore where he had listened to her talk about every book she had read, the park where they had shared their first kiss just under a snowy day like this. Every way she looked to, there was a memory of him hidden.

She was so lost in thought that she didn’t even notice him hidden, following her every step until suddenly strong arms wrapped tight around her waist, and before she could even gasp, she’s was already soaring into the sky. Wind rushed past her as she looks at the the familiar red-and-black suit. "Percy!" she yells, half-angry, half-dizzy from the height.

He chuckles, the sound muffled through the mask. "Hey. Missed me?" she wanted to keep screaming at him, but she looked down and realized just how high they were so she gasped intead, holding tighly onto him.

He swung them higher, the city blurring beneath them until they landed on the rooftop of some random building. She stumbled a little, trying to catch her breath, but Percy steadied her.

"What the hell, Percy? you can't just do that and-" the words died in her mouth once she looked at what was waiting just in front of her.

"Surprise." he said softly, motioning to the cozy picnic blanket and basket waiting for them. The setting sun was casting a golden glow over the skyline, the view breathtaking.

He pulled his mask off as he turns to face her, his sea green eyes full of guilt. "I know it won't solve everything, but I just need you to listen to me, and after that if you hate it, you can push me off this roof."

That made her smile just a little, unintentionally showing the lingering affection she had been trying to bury. "as if that would work, you would probably land on your feet."

He laughed, and she realized just how much she was missed that laugh.

However, before she could even try to commit it to memory, he turned serious again as he took a step closer to her. "I'm really sorry for not telling you the truth sooner, I should have never let you believe that I didn’t care about you. I can't take what I did back, but from now on I swear to you that I'll never keep anything else from you again. Just let me show you how much you mean to me. One day at a time"

She tilted her head to the side, giving him a soft smile. "You’re really not going to give up, are you?"

"Not a chance," Percy replied almost immediatly, as if he didn’t even need to think about it. "You mean too much to me."

She looked at him for a long moment of silence, but she didn’t say anything, she simply stood there in silence before she finally sighed and went to sit on the blanket he had set up, he seemed confused but immediatly followed her to sit beside her. He didn’t push her, didn’t try to force a resolution. He just sat there, letting her process, letting her feel.

"Does this mean I don’t get pushed off the roof?"

"Don’t push your luck, Jackson," she replied, rolling her eyes even though there was a smile tugging at her lips.

They both sat right there in silence until she finally speaked again, looking up at the sky before going back to find his eyes, that were already on her. "one day at a time." she granted finally, and before he could even begin to smile, she continued. "but no more secrets."

Percy’s lips twitched into a small smile, and he nodded. "no more secrets."

She smiled at him, and he smiled at her. And they both knew that maybe not everything was okay just yet, but they would work it out. They were both in silence, except this time it was peaceful knowing that there was no secret between them.

However, as much as Percy was happy, he was also Percy so he couldn't hold the silence for much longer. "have you ever wanted to see New York the way I do?" he asked.

She hesitated, narrowing her eyes at him. "What does that mean?"

He stood up, offering her a hand as his eyes had a certain playful shine on them. "trust me, just let me show you."

And because y/n would follow that boy just about anywhere without any doubt, she took his hand after a second and let herself be pulled by him. It all happened so fast, one moment she's was standing up and the next he had her arms wrapped around her waist, stepping backwards off the ledge of the rooftop.

"Percy!" she shrieked, clinging to him instinctively as they both hung upside down.

"Relax, I’ve got you," he told her, chuckling softly. He started to walk slowly along the side of the building, his movements careful. She clutched onto him tightly, her heart racing from the adrenaline... and maybe from being so close to him again. "I always do."

When they reached a quiet spot where they could see the skyline, he stopped, holding her steady. "Look" he said softly, holding her with one arm as he uses the other to point to the city.

She followed his gaze, her breath hitching at how breathtaking the city lights looked shining beneath them. "it's beautiful, Percy" she mumbled.

"You’re beautiful" he didn’t meant to say it out loud, but he did and maybe he didn’t regret it, because when she looked at him, just a moment, the weight of their recent struggles melted away.

She rolled her eyes, but a small laugh escaped her. And it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. "That’s the corniest thing you’ve ever said."

"hey! I’m trying here" he replied, grinning. "besides, you deserve all the cheesy lines in the world."

y/n shook her head, but she couldn't hide her smile. And maybe, she thought, it isn't perfect at all but it's right. He's right for her. They are right for eachother.

They stayed there, just looking at the city underneath them as the night stretched on until it's was time for her to go back home. With the city humming below, Percy swung her back to her apartment.

The night air felt cold against her face, but thankfully her apartment wasn't far away. in no time, Percy was settling her down on the fire scape by her window.

"home sweet home." she couldn't see his face since he had put on the mask, but she knew he was grinning.

"thank you for dropping me home, quite literally." she smiled at him as she opened her window, but she didn’t step inside just yet because she wanted to be there with him for a longer moment. "and for everything else."

"anytime." once again, y/n wished she could see behind the mask because she could swear he was smiling, and she loved seeing that smile. Percy seemed like he was also buying time before he had to go. "hey, we're ok?"

"we will be" she nodded, and that seemed to be a good enough answer for Percy, who nodded back and took a deep breath.

Not knowing what else to say, she finally stepped into her room. Percy he took a deep breath as he saw her, then legs hooked over the ledge and he hung upside down, his head poking through her winsow.

"good night, y/n" he mumbled softly, ready to swing away. but just as he was turning to leave, she finally spoke.

"wait, Percy" she called for him, making him stop and turn his face back to her almost immediately, he looked alarmed, like he was bracing himself for something terrible to happen.

He was about to ask what was wrong, but y/n didn’t even stop to think before she pulled his mask down, uncovering his lips. Percy, perched outside her window, let out a surprised gasp just as she leaned in and claimed his lips with hers.

Percy's breath caught in his throat as he froze, surprised. But when he finally did react, he steadied himself, and leaned into the kiss, his heart pounding so hard he was afraid it might jump out of his chest at any moment.

The kiss started tentative, a mix of hesitation and longing. But as they melted into each other, the city around them faded away. For the first time in weeks, she felt whole again.

When they finally pulled apart, she could finally see the smile on his face. "and there it is folks, Spider-Man always gets the girl."

She rolled her eyes, swatting his chest lightly, but she couldn't possibly fight the smile tugging at her lips. "You’re impossible."

"And you love it." he replied, his grin widening.

y/n chuckled, looking down at him, her heart full. "I’ll see you soon, Percy," she said, her voice playful yet fond.

"make that tomorrow." He winked at her, then swung away into the night, leaving her standing by the window, knowing that they would be alright.

[maysileeewrites]

midnight answer

Robb Stark x fem! Reader || 18+; MDNI!

Synopsis: Moments like these, when he’s so tender and gentle are the hardest to remind yourself that this doesn’t mean anything. You and Robb are just friends - friends, helping each other out, as he put it - nothing more, nothing less. And Robb’s heart certainly doesn’t beat for you, like yours does for him. 

c.w.: angsty smut!! (I feel that this is the best way to describe this lol), lots and lots of angst and emotional hurt with an eventual happy ending, yearning & notions of unrequited love, Robb being an emotionally-stinted idiot (I fear that’s becoming a canon event in my Robb fics lol)

word count: 3.2k || masterlist

i’m your midnight answer,  queen of the night 

The nights are the worst. 

And yet, somehow, they’re simultaneously also the best. 

They’re the only part of the day during which you can really pretend that Robb is yours. And not even that’s entirely true, and maybe that’s what’s so disheartening about it. 

Because how can you really pretend that he’s yours when he always leaves your side, sometimes just moments after finishing inside you? 

How can you pretend that his heart is yours, when sometimes, he’s deliberately not looking at you, just thrusting himself into you, his head lowered to the crook of your neck? 

Robb’s heart was claimed a long time ago, when he first met Talisa - Talisa, who has been dead for almost a year now, not that that changes a single thing -, you’d known that when you first started sleeping with Robb. 

Just as you’d known that love was never supposed to be part of the arrangement - definitely not for Robb, at least. 

He’d made that abundantly clear after the first time you’d slept together. 

„Look, I really like you, but this - this isn’t - this doesn’t mean anything“, he’d said, his back turned to you, already walking back over towards his table with the maps of Westeros spread out on it, while putting his robe back on. 

„This is just - two friends helping each other out.“ 

„Sure“, you’d said, trying to swallow down the bitter pang of heartbreaking disappointment you’d felt. „Just two friends - two friends helping each other …“ 

Robb wasn’t even paying attention to you anymore, his eyes already glued to a letter from one of his allies. You’re not quite sure, but you think that he didn’t even notice walking you out of his tent a few moments later after you couldn’t bear the heavy, uncomfortable silence anymore. 

Robb was right - this really didn’t mean anything, you tried to tell yourself as you walked through camp back towards your tent, crossing your arms in front of your chest, trying to fight off the chill of the cool night air. 

This didn’t mean anything, you were just two friends, helping each other out. 

Nothing more, nothing less. 

But, of course, your stupid little heart just had to go and fall in love with him anyways. 

Maybe it serves you right, if you really think about it. Maybe this is what you get for agreeing to this arrangement in the first place. 

Maybe you should have seen the signs, instead of trying to ignore them. Maybe you should’ve acknowledged that in all your years of knowing Robb, you’d always felt drawn to him, like there was something tying the two of you together. 

Maybe, you’d always held love for Robb in your heart and just didn’t realize it sooner. 

Not that any of that matters, now. 

Certainly not right in this very moment, when you’re in Robb’s arms, your hands tangled in his auburn curls, your legs around his waist, with him moving inside you, his hands on your waist keeping you in place, as he continues to thrust up into you. 

Just then, his ice blue eyes find yours, and for a moment, every sad, disheartening thought you’ve had about Robb and the hopelessness of your situation fades away. 

These bittersweet, dangerously hopeful moments are the worst. 

These moments when he looks at you like this could really be something more. Like there’s something there, something more, some feeling he’s having that goes beyond the purely phyiscal arrangement you’d initially agreed on. 

Your name falls from his lips like a prayer, and just when you think that he couldn’t possibly confuse you anymore, he cups your face with one hand and leans in to kiss you. 

Your stupid, traitorous little heart starts to beat faster as you tug on Robb’s curls harder, reciprocating the kiss. 

You and Robb rarely kiss. 

Sure, you’ve gotten each other off with your mouths countless of times, and Robb usually loves to explore the rest of your body with his lips, but you don’t really kiss. 

The few times you’ve kissed, it always was a spur of the moment thing. Like that one time Robb seemed so overwhelmed by his orgasm that he’d cupped your face, pressing his lips to yours in a hungry, bruising kiss. Or that other time you’d been in this exact position, Robb looking up at you and you’d felt that the tension between you so intense to the point that it was almost unbearable and so, you’d leaned forward and kissed Robb, trying to somehow dissolve the tension. 

But other than that, you barely kiss. And when you do, it’s usually hungry and bruising, your mouths clashing together. 

Not so tender, and - loving. 

And no, you can’t go there, thinking thoughts like that. 

You simply can’t. 

And so, you do the only thing you can think of trying to distract yourself - you use Robb’s distracted state and start moving your hips, meeting his powerful thrusts with your own movements. 

Robb groans loudly, the sound alone enough to have you clenching around him. 

„Gods“, he groans, his blue eyes finding yours again, „keep doing that and I won’t last much longer.“

You smirk, doing exactly what he tells you. 

Robb closes his eyes, groaning again. You love seeing him like this, coming undone, pure, unfiltered pleasure overtaking his features. 

It doesn’t take much longer for both of you to reach your peak, your hands tugging harshly on Robb’s curls, trying to steady yourself against the white-hot waves of pleasure crashing over you. Robb pulls out of you just in time, though you can’t help but think that this time, it feels more like an afterthought instead of the usual necessary precaution. 

After, when he’s cleaned you both up and tenderly tucked your robe over your shoulders, Robb presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head - another thing he rarely does, if ever. If you think about it, this might be the first time he’s ever done that. 

You bite down hard on your lip, avoiding Robb’s gaze for a moment. Moments like this, when he’s so tender and gentle are the hardest to remind yourself that this doesn’t mean anything. 

This doesn’t mean anything - you and Robb are just friends. 

Just friends. 

Nothing more, nothing less. 

And Robb’s heart certainly doesn’t beat for you, like yours does for him. 

And so, you get up, trying not to look at Robb, tying your robe tighter around yourself. 

But just when you turn to move away from Robb, his hand suddenly grasps yours. 

He softly utters your name, and you can’t help it, you look up to meet his bright blue eyes. 

„I - you - you don’t have to go … I-“

Your heart starts beating faster. 

„What - what are you saying, Robb?“ 

„I’m saying that I want you to stay“, he says, running a hand through his curls, which only serves to make them look even more disarranged. 

„Oh“, you say, suddenly feeling quite breathless. „Oh, I-“

Just say yes, your heart seems to tell you, pounding fast in your chest. 

Don’t agree, is what your mind tells you. Don’t agree - you’ll only fall harder for him, which will make it all the more unbearable when he’ll break your heart in the end. 

But what if he won’t break your heart? 

What if maybe - just maybe - he’s starting to feel the same way you do? 

„You alright there, love?“ Robb’s concerned voice breaks you out of your thoughts. 

And of course, now he has to go and call you love as well - something he also never did before. 

You tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, trying to force a smile onto your face. „Just - a litte lost in thought“, you say, trying to shrug it off. 

You’ve never before asked me to stay the night - what is it that’s changed for you now? 

„But sure, I, uh - I can stay the night …“ 

Robb smiles. In this moment, he looks so happy, his smile lighting up his whole face; so serenely beautiful, it physically pains you to look at him. 

„That sounds wonderful, love“, he says, coming to stand in front of you and cradling your face in his hands. 

Your heart aches as you smile up at him. 

„It really does.“ 

🐺⚔️ 

When you wake up, Robb is still fast asleep behind you, one hand spread rather possessively across your stomach, his other arm slung over your waist, keeping you pressed to his chest, just like every other morning. 

Two months have passed since Robb first asked you to stay the night. 

Two months in which you stayed nearly every night. (Two months for you to fall even more in love with Robb, and for the moments in which you think that there might be more to his feelings than he’s letting on to only become even more painfully bittersweet.) 

A few times he even came to your tent - something that also never happened. 

He’s never stayed the night though, at least not until now. 

Another first. You seem to be experiencing a lot of firsts with Robb, lately. Like last night, when he’d kissed you good night, before scooping you up in his arms. He’s never really done that before. Sometimes, he’d kiss you on the cheek or on the crown of your head, before walking back to his own tent. He’s never before given you a proper good night kiss, though. 

What does it mean - if it even means anything, because sometimes, when you get really frustrated with your whole situation with Robb, you feel as if with Robb, you can never really be sure of anything. 

These moments during which you feel as if there’s more to his feelings for you than what he’s letting on - do they even mean anything in the grand scheme of things? Because if he’d truly developed feeling for you, wouldn’t he have said something, anything by now? You’ve been sleeping with each other for over a year now - surely if he’d really feel more than just friendship for you, you’d have noticed it somehow. 

Which, in the end it just means that you’re a fool - a fool not to have better protected your emotions, especially when you’d always known how this would end. With your heart broken into a thousand pieces, and Robb’s heart still dead and unbeating, never beating for you. And how could that ever be, when he loved Talisa as much as he did? When you’re nothing more than a friend, and what you’ve been doing for over a year is nothing more than just two friends helping each other out. 

„Mornin’, love.“ 

Robb’s soft voice, still heavy with sleep, draws you out of your thoughts, as do his lips, tenderly exploring the soft skin of your neck. You’ve been so deeply withdrawn into your own thoughts that you haven’t even noticed Robb wake up. 

„Sleep well?“, Robb murmurs, before softly kissing a spot on your neck that’s already tender and sensitive to touch from all the attention he gave it during the night. 

You try to force yourself to say something, anything, but the words won’t come out. You feel your heart starting to beat faster, your throat starting to constrict. 

Robb, of course, notices your silence - and also the way your whole body stiffens, when he sits up behind you, resting his head on the crook of your neck. 

„Something the matter?“, he asks you, his voice now laced with concern. 

Still, you cannot bring yourself to answer him. 

His concern - it means nothing, you’re trying to convince yourself. You’re just friends - just friends. Oh, how you hate that word. Because how can it ever be enough for you to just be Robb’s friend, when you love him so much that sometimes it physically pains you to even be in the same room as him? 

Robb says your name, his tone pleading. When you still don’t answer him, he carefully lets you out of his grasp, before shuffling around on the bed, until he’s sitting right in front of you. 

„Love, please talk to me.“ 

And something about the urgency in his voice and the intense emotion in his bright blue eyes finally breaks you down. 

„What - what is this, Robb?“

Your voice is shaky and uneven, sounding as though you’re on the verge of breaking down in tears. 

„What-“, Robb starts to say, but you immediately cut him off. 

„No, really, Robb, what is this? What - what are we even doing? What - why are you still doing this to- why are we still doing this?“ 

„I don’t-“

„Look, I know - I know what we’ve agreed on, in the beginning. I know that - that this … we’re just friends, right? Just friends - friends“, your tone turns bitter and you laugh darkly. „Friends, helping each other out … well we’ve helped each other out a lot, haven’t we?“ 

You laugh again, shaking your head. The words continue to come, though - it feels like once you’ve started talking, started finally voicing your thoughts and pouring your heart out, there’s no stopping it. 

„Look, Robb, I get it - I do, I really, really do. This - it’s just - it … it doesn’t even mean anything, right? Not to you, anyways … I get it - and I wish I didn’t, but I do … you, you just - you needed someone - someone to be there for you, after Talisa-“

„Stop“, Robb suddenly interrupts you, the word so strong and forceful that you wince. 

Your heart aches and you blink furiously, because even though you've already faced away from Robb, you don’t want to cry, not in front of him. Not yet. In just a few moments, once he’s finally broken your heart once and for all, you can break down and cry. 

Because - of course. 

Of course, just the mere mention of Talisa is enough to scare him off for good. You shake your head, angry at yourself. How could you have been such a fool, not seeing that this was always how this was going to end - with your heart in pieces, because you’d been naive enough to believe that Robb might feel the same way you do. 

„Gods, I’m such an idiot“, you whisper, your voice breaking on the last word. 

„You’re right“, Robb suddenly says, his voice sounding just as broken as yours. You don’t care though, not in this moment, with your heart already aching. 

„You’re right - I did need someone after - after Talisa died. I did need someone - I needed you. Gods, how could I have been so blind and stupid?“ He laughs bitterly, and even though you’re still facing away from him, you can tell just by the tone of his voice alone and his frustrated sigh that he’s running a hand through his curls in desperation. 

„I needed you - I needed - gods, after she died, I felt as if nothing would ever make sense anymore, as if I’d never be happy again.“ 

You bite down hard on your lip, already regretting how you’ve just opened up to Robb. Your heart’s already bleeding, you really don’t want to hear about how much he still loves Talisa. 

„And I needed - I needed to drown my grief, to numb the pain, somehow. And you - by the seven, I was so stupid … I needed you, craved your presence so much that by the time I realized how much I wanted you, how much I loved you, I’d already messed everything up by starting this whole situation in the first place … but gods help me, I don’t regret it. I know I should - gods, I really, really should, when I’ve already hurt you so much, but - gods, after Talisa died, everything was so dark and heavy and I didn’t think that I’d ever truly feel alive again … but then you - you showed me so much light - and gods I wish that I’d realized sooner what I have with you …“ 

„Robb“, you interrupt him, voice shaky, heart pounding in your chest, „what - what are you saying?“ 

Robb doesn’t answer your question immediately, in fact, the only thing you hear is the rustling of the thick fur covers you always sleep under. Then, suddenly, Robb is right in front of you, kneeling down on the floor before you, carefully reaching for your hands and lacing your fingers together. 

His eyes find yours. 

For a moment, it feels as if the whole word has stopped moving. 

For a moment, there’s nothing else, just you and Robb, looking at each other, both of you breathing heavily, regret burdening you down. 

„I’m saying that I love you - gods, I love you so much and I’m an idiot for not realizing it sooner.“ 

You let out a choked little noise at his words, causing Robb to smile softly. 

„I’m saying that I love you and that if you’ll have me - if you can forgive me -  I’ll love you. I love you, and I just - I just want to be with you … if you’ll still have me, that is …“, his voice trails off, yet his gaze doesn’t leave yours. 

His eyes look watery and he’s blinking back tears furiously, but that’s not the thing you’re focused on. No, what you’re focused on is the intense emotion in his eyes - all his love and yearning for you, the emotions perfectly mirroring your own. 

„Robb, I-“, you start to say, but he cuts you off almost immediately. 

„I’m sorry for not realizing things sooner, I’m sorry, I - I’ve probably been quite the jerk, especially in the beginning, but I-“

„I get it“, you interrupt him, squeezing his hand. 

He looks like he’s on the verge of interrupting you again, and so, you do the only thing you can think of in that moment to shut him up - you lean forward and kiss him. 

Later, you’ll have time to reflect on your emotions and on what you mean to each other, together. Later, there will be time to properly talk things through. 

But right now, you just want to be in this moment with Robb. Because while you know that there’s a lot you both need to talk about, a lot that you need to process, you’re sure that there’s one thing you won’t need time to properly work through: Robb loves you. 

Because no mater how unattainable, how unbelievable that notion seemed only a few weeks ago, you just know that it’s true. 

Maybe it’s the way Robb said it, with so much sincerity, his voice so full of emotion. 

Maybe it’s in the way he kisses you, desperate and urgent, as if to make up for time lost. 

Maybe it’s in the way his hands have found their way to your waist, holding on tightly to you, as if he never intends to let go of you. 

Or maybe it’s in the way your heart flutters when Robb starts to bunch up the fabric of your nightdress around your waist with one hand, using his other hand to gently spread your legs apart, before he kneels back down on the floor again. 

But maybe it doesn’t matter how you know - maybe the only thing that matters is that you do know. 

Robb loves you. 

And so, you close your eyes, tangling your hands in Robb’s auburn curls, getting lost in the moment completely as Robb starts kissing his way up the inside of your thigh.

tagging: @rheanyraaaa @inkandarsenic @amethystinie @strrvnge @samieree @justmymindandstuff @prettydeeryess @whppxdit4chi

[woncon]

➳ sick duty.

➶ poly!ateez x gn!reader (yungisang focus) ｡˚ °

-ˏ` ✎﹏ Yunho is sick, and you and Yeosang are on sick duty. When the others still haven't arrived with jelly, you decide to go to the nearest shop in the raging storm and buy some, because Yunho really wants them.

➴ genre: slice of life, sickfic, estabilished relationship, polyamory, non-idol!au

: ̗̀➛ warnings: poor yunho has a fever, one sexually suggestive offer, petnames, nudity

⌨ :: 3.5K words ♡ ︵ . .

⁀➷ This idea came to me when I saw a double rainbow in early June while listening to Golden Hour Pt1. It was supposed to play in the summer, but I never got to the end. Now autumn came and I decided to write it. But in this rainy, gloomy weather it seemed better to set it in a more autumnal setting. That changed my basic idea a lot, but I'm happy with it as it is.

⁀➷ My lovely @wonsheep, I'm still sorry the rain poured on you so heavily on Wednesday. :( But it was very motivating, as you can see. Many thanks for reading through the story and founding my silly mistakes!

➳ mlist

I'm hot.

I want tea.

I'm cold.

The sickly season of the autumn-winter months spares no one. Yunho, who is hard to dislodge from whatever well-endowed giraffe's legs he has, is now curled up in the middle of the bed, disconsolate because he didn't pull on a thick enough scarf, or was carelessly underdressed in the living room, or simply spent too much time around a co-worker who has been lurking with some virus. Whichever the case, the poor guy is in a terrible mood.

"I want medicine," he whispers his next wish.

You look at your watch.

“One more hour before you can take the next one,” you say, brushing his hair away to touch his sweat beaded forehead. It's still as warm as underfloor heating.

Frustrated, he rolls to the side and buries his head fully into the pillow. You drop your hands back into your lap, helpless. It's simply exasperating to watch him suffer, to listen to his snotty, ragged breathing mix with the rain beating against the window.

“Do you want something to help?” you ask, when he turns to you again and raises his feverish eyes to you. The skin around his nose is flushed from all the blowing.

“Jelly.”

Yunho is convinced that jelly sweets can help him. Or at least when he's sick, he likes to eat sweets. Other times, not so much. Unfortunately, you guys weren't prepared for Yunho being sick in the near future. Plus, there's a storm brewing, the kind you haven't seen in a long time. It's been raining steadily for a week now, sometimes more, sometimes less. The others went to do the shopping with the car, leaving Yunho behind with the promise to bring him some jelly. He responded with a small, grateful smile.

Now, looking at his tortured expression, you would give a lot to see that smile again, the hope in his eyes. You reach out and take his hand. You sigh. Gently, slowly, you caress the back of his hand, knowing how sensitive he is to touch when he has a fever. You don't want to overdo it and hurt him, but at the same time you want to let him know physically that you're there for him.

"It's on the way." You really hope it is. The last time Jongho called, they were already at the checkout. Your youngest friend boasted that they were bringing five full bags of jelly beans. That was about twenty minutes ago. No news since then. It bothers you that you can't offer an immediate solution to Yunho's every wish.

Before Yunho can ask any more questions, the door opens. Yeosang arrives with a tray holding a steaming mug and something wrapped in napkins that you can't identify yet. With cautious steps, he moves to the other side of the bed among some discarded clothes - because Yunho didn't want to shower this morning, just threw everything off the bed he'd chosen as his regular place - and then takes a seat, placing the tray safely on the bedside table, gently moving Seonghwa's half-finished book.

“I've brought the tea," he says to Yunho. "And I found some biscuits to go with it."

Interested, the patient moves up on the pillow, but still looks vulnerable. Yeosang holds the cup in his hand and gives the man small sips. Meanwhile, you get up and gather up the laundry strewn around the bed and take it to the bathroom. On the way, you hear a conversation emanating from the kitchen, from which you hear the word 'jelly bean' clearly spoken at one point. So after throwing the laundry in the hamper, you go to the kitchen instead of the bedroom. The room is filled with the smell of hot water and tea leaves. Mingi is putting away the tea ingredients. The call is already finished, his phone is on the counter.

Originally, Mingi wouldn’t be on sick duty today. Today's subordinates are you and Yeosang, Mingi just didn't want to leave the apartment in this crazy weather and he’s helping you instead. It's not like this sick duty thing is strict in your relationship, and it's set in stone that Mingi can only nurse Yunho on Mondays and Fridays and holidays or anything. That said, there are rules. For example, Mingi usually only needs one nurse when he gets a cold or something more serious, but at such times it is Yunho for most of the time. Then there's Jongho, who, if he falls ill, no matter what the schedule, has all eight of you at his disposal twenty-four hours a day. Or, again, there's Seonghwa, who hides the fact that he's sick until it's too obvious, and you're all freaking out as to why he won't let you take care of him.

Yunho usually hardly gets sick. When he does, even a mild cold will get him down. And when he is ill, he's even fussier than the sick Wooyoung, and only one lover has a hard time coping with his demands. Usually two people are enough to care for him if there are jelly beans nearby. Which, for now, there aren’t.

“Are they on their way home?” you ask Mingi, who's packing honey. 

"It's worse downtown than here," he says. "The traffic's bad. They're just moving towards home inch by inch."

You both look out of the window, and the tapping of the rain remains as unrelenting as the fever that plagues Yunho.

“Is the tea to his liking?”

“I'm sure of it,” you smile at him. Mingi is usually insecure when it comes to Yunho's well-being. You suspect that the boy's illness was a more significant reason for Mingi to stay home than his desire not to get wet. “But you can ask him.”

You return to the bedroom with Mingi at your side. You remind yourself that this room now functions as a ward. The patient is huddled near the edge of the bed, munching on biscuits soaked in tea, so that they don't scratch his throat.

“It's not jelly,” he mutters, then pulls away from Yeosang and lies back on the upholstered cushions.

You look at Yeosang. Your theory is that you're thinking the exact same thing. If jelly beans are the only thing that helps your boyfriend, you'll do anything to get them. You're even willing to go to the convenience store in the pouring rain, because when you are on sick duty, Yunho mustn't lack anything.

"We'll go and get jelly beans," you say. Yeosang nods his head in commitment.

“We'll go?” Mingi looks terrified. “All of us?”

You can't leave Yunho alone in this state. It's a good thing that Mingi is here, in addition to Yeosang and you, ready for action, and not stuck in traffic with the others downtown. 

“No. You stay here with Yunho and look after him.”

Mingi continues to blink. 

“We'll be quick, don't worry, you don't have to multitask. Yuyu will probably fall asleep soon.”

"It's not me I'm worried about," he protests, "You'll get wet and cold."

"The store is not far away. We won't have enough time in the rain to freeze to death."

Yeosang wraps Yunho in a blanket and kisses him on the head.

"Mingi?" The man folded in a burrito addresses the worried individual.

“Yes?”

“Gimme a hug.”

Mingi doesn't resist, but climbs onto the bed, swapping places with Yeosang, who pats his shoulder as he passes. Before you even leave the room, you hear Mingi apologize and ask for Yunho's forgiveness.

Yeosang sticks the umbrella out the door. Just a little to test how much it rains. There's really barely any surface out, but the wind immediately grabs it and tugs it further. He pulls it back in time before the umbrella swings out or the wind wins, and you close the door with a great struggle, which also wants to jump off its hinges from the violent gusts of wind.

“I think this will stay here,” Yeosang says, and then drops the solid black umbrella behind you.

You zip up your raincoat. It occurs to you that maybe Mingi is right, and you're so wet you'll get stuck in a puddle of icy water. Yet the idea doesn't discourage you, doesn't make you stay, because Yunho needs the jellies.

Yeosang adjusts his hood, then holds out his hand. You embrace him tightly. You check your wallet stashed in the waterproof pocket one last time and place your hand on the doorknob. Then you push it down. The door swings open, and you let it drag you along with it. The back of your coat gets soaked immediately. The rain doesn't fall, it instead pours down from behind in a wave with the wind. Clinging on to Yeosang in vain, it's hard to keep up your own pace and not lurch forward like a rag doll. It's a wonder your boyfriend can close the door.

Although the shop is indeed a block away, at this time it feels like you're wandering for eternity. For one thing, the scenery is completely different in the rain, it's harder to navigate, especially in the raging, commanding wind. Around one corner, Yeosang has to pull you in, because out of nowhere a car appears, its wheels gallantly splashing a full puddle onto the pavement.

Somehow, you do reach the store. As soon as the automatic door closes behind you, the storm is out of the way. Inside, the weather is pleasant. Only the clothes clinging to your skin and the small puddles and mud stains on the floor left by other shoppers are reminders of what a doomsday is happening outside.

“Huh,” you sigh in relief. The first game of the war against weather is over. You only have one more to go to succeed in the jelly bean mission.

“We're crazy," Yeosang shakes his head in disbelief. Then he smiles up at you, sweetly and lovingly, because he's proud you're crazy. You return it.

Insanity is part of sick duty to some extent. Last time San must have used up thirty tissues a day, and ran out in the middle of the week. Hongjoong ran so fast to replace the used-up packets that he was almost hit by a truck. And when you were sick and craving nothing but a mug of hot tomato soup when all the shops were closed and there were no tomatoes at home, only ketchup... Well, Jongho tried.

You purposefully seek out sweets. Luckily, you don't have to wander around and scout the place, you'll often find yourself here. You take off two bags of Yunho's favourite flavour, sour apple. You remember again how pitiful your otherwise healthy and cheerful boyfriend looks.

“This will help him,” Yeosang says encouragingly, as if he's reading your mind.

You nod, then head for the cashier. You get in line. From here, you can see the window and the rain pouring down.

For the first time since the jelly bean plan was born, you have time to think about Mingi's excuse when he cuddled up to Yunho. It's my fault. I'm sorry. But how could it be his fault that Yunho caught a cold?

You're rewinding the previous two weeks. Yunho was in home office the whole time. He really enjoyed it, and when he wasn't working, he was playing video games. He didn't put his foot out until one time when he had to pop down to the shop for something. It didn't rain so heavily that day, just a gentle drizzle. Maybe Mingi had taken off Yunho's blanket one night? It couldn't be, either, because they'd been sleeping far apart lately.

It's your turn, so you suspend your musings. When you get back, you'll ask Mingi and hope it's not too embarrassing for him not to tell you. If he feels guilty, you could help him and reassure him that it's not his fault.

You and Yeosang pay. You put the bags in your coat pockets. You pull the hood up, not that it matters. You cling together again, then step out onto the soggy pavement. 

The way back is harder. This time the wind brings the rain from the front. Each blast smacks you in the face. Neither of your hoods can stay up. Your hair gets wet, the rain drips under your coat. You successfully step into a puddle, literally splashing in the muddy water, and the inside of your boots get soaked. You're wet everywhere, from your elbows to your toes. It's really annoying, but you don't falter, clutching Yeosang's arm until you reach the sheltering door of your home to drop in like two wet rags on the threshold and with a combined effort you shut out the cold, ominous wind. Yeosang slides along the door, his hair leaving a wet streak on the wooden panel.

“We did it,” he sighs, and proudly rattles one of the jelly beans he pulls out of his pocket. The bag is intact, of course.

“We did,” you agree, and pull him up off the ground.

Suddenly you're faced with the problem of not knowing what to take off first because everything is equally soaked. It's almost as if your clothes are the cool part of your skin, plus outer layers. Finally, following your boyfriend's example, you throw your coat on the floor first, then your shoes on the doormat, and socks after.

Before you reach for the next layer of clothing, there is the sound of footsteps. You think Mingi is coming, but when he sighs, you realize it's not your tall lover.

“You guys are adorable and dedicated, but silly at the same time," says Hongjoong with crossed arms.

“But at least Yunho’s jellies will hold out until he heals,” answers Yeosang, taking off his shirt.

“When did you arrive?” you ask.

“About a minute ago. But we'll talk later. Now go take a shower before you too end up feverishly next to Yunho,” Hongjoong advises, then retreats and San steps forward. He unconcealedly runs his eyes over Yeosang's naked torso, and yours, which still has your shirt stuck to it, rather tightly, so it might even be useless.

“If you get sick, I'll be on sick duty every day. The thing is, the adorable, dedicated, silly people are just my type” he winks.

“Move over, Sanie," Wooyoung appears and nudges the other one in the side, "You promised to help hyung pack up.”

San hums and walks away, but still smiles in your direction. You all love to oblige Hongjoong and Seonghwa, and that goes for when there's an opportunity to flirt as well.

“You two are sexy, all wet,” Wooyoung admits. “If you need help with the shower, let me know. I'll be within earshot.”

“We'll consider it,” you promise. Wooyoung nods with a grin, and he also retreats to the kitchen.

You pass through the hallway, but before you can go to the bathroom, Jongho stands in front of you with a plate of jelly beans. “Here. I thought you should be the ones to give it to him. You made a greater sacrifice, and most of us stayed dry. Except for Hwa hyung, who opened the door and held the umbrella.”

“Thank you,” you say at the same time. While Yeosang takes the bowl, you press a kiss on Jongho's cheek.

When you retire to the bedroom, the scene is quite cozy. Yunho is in bed, hugging Mingi, craving jelly beans, and you offer him what he craves most, and what you fought Mother Nature for.

“We got it,” you report.

Yunho snaps his head up. The mere hope brings life to his sick features. You stand by the bed, careful not to get rainwater on it.

“Here, hyung," Yeosang hands the bowl to him in a soft whisper.

“I hope you weren’t too desperate, baby. We hurried as much as we could.”

“You're the best," says Yunho, touched, between bites. “I love you.”

“We love you too, giant baby. Very much,” you assure him.

And he smiles up at you. The mission is a complete success. Whether all that time and getting soaked was enough to put you to bed remains to be seen. In the meantime, you bask in success.

Mingi sneezes. Then he reaches under the pillow and takes out a handkerchief. “My throat may be a tiny bit scratchy.”

“Should we set up someone on sick duty for you too?” Yeosang offers readily.

“Our poor boyfriends,” you sigh, watching them. Yunho in the midst of illness, Mingi as he probably slips into a state of flux.

“I deserve it,” murmurs Mingi, looking ruefully at Yunho.

“Why do you think so?” you ask the question that has been nagging at you for a good twenty minutes.

“When we ran out of milk last week, Yunho and I went to the grocery store... I offered to make out with him in the rain. It didn't rain much, and there was no wind. Still, that's how Yunho got cold.”

"Come on," the other protests hoarsely. He sucks on a jelly bean with great enthusiasm. You wouldn't believe he can taste it. “You offered, I agreed, I could have said no, but I didn't. All in all, it was worth it.”

“Worth it?” Yeosang raises his eyebrows. “You were dying before the jelly arrived.”

"If you haven't kissed Mingi in the rain, you won't understand," he declares, then turns to Mingi. “Want a jelly, princess?

Yeosang and you leave them alone, let them romance each other in the infirmary. Barefoot, you stomp off to the bathroom. You open the door, and a thick, fragrant steam rises from the room. A pleasant warm breeze reminds you how cold you are. You hurry inside. Yeosang closes the door to keep the comforting steam from escaping.

Seonghwa is already drying his hair and got dressed. You look at him expectantly, ready to be reprimanded. But he has no such plans. He takes your face with one hand and Yeosang's with the other. “I am proud of you. Take a bath, then we can watch a movie. We made a whole list while we were stuck in traffic.”

Yeosang hums, you nod in response. Good idea. At this time of year, there's no point in doing anything other than curling up on the sofa together.

You bask in Seonghwa's soft touch until the last moment, and the knowledge that he's proud of you. It's really enjoyable to play good cop, bad cop with Hongjoong, and they don’t scold you twice. Regardless, you need to figure out a way to cheer up that boyfriend of yours who called you adorable, dedicated, and silly all at the same time. 

“So he probably caught it while kissing,” you acknowledge what you've heard by tugging your trousers down after Seonghwa has left you alone.

“Interesting.”

“And understandable. Sounds romantic.”

“Do you want to go back?” Yeosang glances up at you as he pulls towels out of the closet. The look in his eyes is willing. It embarrasses you to know that he would take a single word from you and go back with you into the pouring rain to fulfill that desire.

“I wouldn’t do it in this weather. But, for example, standing in a cool summer drizzle, refreshing after the heat. When me and my partner won’t be so likely to have a fever for a week.”

“Last summer Woo did it with someone. I think it was with Sanie, but I'm not sure. Maybe he caught Hongjoong hyung in a moment of weakness.”

“Really? Is it fashionable to kiss in the rain in our relationship?”

“A bit.” Yeosang undresses completely. 

Your hand is over the laundry basket, you've dropped the last of your clothes in it, yet you don't move. You’re looking at Yeosang. At his naked back, how rainwater is dripping from his hair, onto his delicate muscles. The line of his shoulder blades as his back narrows, ending in the lovely hips you'd hold in your hands for days. And of course you can't neglect his ass or his thighs or his whole being, because once you start looking at him, one part of him is not enough, and the whole of him is overwhelmingly wonderful.

He turns back to you. “Are you coming?”

“Sure.” You follow him into the bath. You take his face in the palm of your hand and kiss him on the lips. “Wooyoung was right.” 

“About what?”

"You're sexy when you're wet," you explain, and at the same time you probably reveal that you were just staring at him.

"He didn't just say that to me, love," he replies, pulling you close. Then he opens the water. The warm, soothing drops fall on your head and drip down your chilled skin. Like rain.

“I have an idea. Let's kiss here like it's raining.”

“Oh,” Yeosang smiles sweetly. His thumb caresses your cheek. “Okay.”

And you shower until the hot water runs out.

[ruh--roh-raggy]

Roller Rink (Boss! William Afton x Fem! Reader) - FLUFF

Hello hello! I wanted to write something short and sweet to get back into the swing of things, so have a skating date with Will! Let me know what you think!

🪩song recommendation🪩

WARNINGS: Age gap (reader in her mid 20's, Will is in his 40's), not edited, the fluffiest of fluff, Reader and Will skate together at a work party

My Masterlist! ~ Tip Jar! ~ A03 Link!

💜 Thank you for reading! If you like my work consider supporting me by liking/reblogging/leaving a comment below! 💜

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“Chrissy! Hey, hop in!” You call to the bubbly blonde who was already bouncing down the driveway, her skates slung over her shoulder. She piles into your Mercedes Wagon, vaulting over the middle row into the third row of seats that faced towards the back of the windshield.

“I can't believe your bosses rented out the entire Roll-A-Rama! They're so cool for letting you bring us!” One of them exclaims in the packed cab.

“Mr. Afton and Mr. Emily love to throw a good party.” You respond with a laugh. You pulled your sunglasses off the top of your head, shaking out your hair as it blew back in the breeze from the open window. You were on your way to Freddy’s annual summertime bash, your car filled with the excited screams of your friends. 

“Are we going to get to see you flirting with your man?” Your copilot teases, nudging your shoulder.

You can't help but scoff and roll your eyes in response, “my man?”

“Girl, come on! You have been in love with this man, forever! How have you not made a move yet?” Someone else chimes in from the back seat.

“Because he's my boss?” You reply through a dumbfounded laugh.

“That just makes him even hotter.” You hear someone argue in response, a collective agreement from the rest of the car.

“You guys are ridiculous.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Just try not to embarrass me too badly.”

“No promises, if he's hot I'm gonna have to say something.” 

You pull into the lot, recognizing a lot of your coworkers with their friends and family milling around in the parking lot, which appeared to be getting set up for a BBQ. “Everyone that’s drinking follow me to get wristbands!”

“Well, the party certainly has arrived.” Mr. Emily greets you all with a bright smile. “Ladies, how are we doing today?” He continues chatting casually as he checks all of your ID’s. He chuckles as he hands back the final license he had to check, “Hurricane has two r’s in it sweetheart.”  She cringes as he catches her fake. “Are you driving home?” He asks quietly.

“No, sir.” She responds nervously. He wraps the purple wristband around her wrist.

“If anyone asks, you stole it.” She nods, the look of pure shock on her face making you chuckle. “Now, which one of you lovely ladies is driving tonight.” You raise your hand. “Alright, you know the drill. Go give your keys to Will, he's going to hold them to make sure you're good to drive before you leave.” There was a hurried, excited murmur through your group, a couple elbows being exchanged at drawing too much attention.

It wasn't hard to find him, the hulking mass of man lurking by the skate rental counter was a relatively difficult sight to miss. He straightens up when he sees you approaching, you hear one of your friends let out an impressed ‘wow’ as he rises to his full height. “Do us all a favor.” She whispers to you. “Climb that man like a damn tree.”

They all hung back while you went to go talk to him. You willingly surrendered your keys to him before he even had the chance to ask. “Planning on getting into a little bit of trouble tonight, are we?” He asks with a smirk.

“Me? Never.” You pout playfully at him. “I'm hurt that you would even think that, Mr. Afton.” Your heart races as you watch his silvery eyes flicker over your form.

“You're right, a good girl like you would never cause any trouble.” Your cheeks grow warm as you try to come up with a flirty response.

“The only trouble I can see myself getting into tonight is with you.” He raises an eyebrow at you, an almost impressed expression passing over his features.

“Is that right?” He chuckles, taking a couple steps closer to you. “Careful, little lady, you're going to end up with a lot of unwanted attention from me tonight.” He chuckles.

“Who says it's unwanted?” You shoot back, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and letting your eyes wander over his strong, broad shoulders. “I'll see you later, Mr. Afton.”

“Oh, yes you will, rabbit.” He winks at you before you hurry back to your friends.

“You're seriously blind if you can't see how into you he is.” You're immediately pulled into the squealing mass of girls all fawning over how cute you would be with Will. You weren't going to lie, you were really hoping he was planning on following through on his promise to see you later.

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After grabbing some food your group headed back inside, laughing as you all laced up your skates. “Mr. Emily!” You call out to him as you see him strolling past with his wife.

“Hey honey, how are you? Everyone's having fun I hope?” He asks with a cheerful smile.

“Oh yeah, we're having a blast! I was just wondering if, um, if you've seen Mr. Afton?” Your cheeks grew warm as the question tumbled from your lips.

“Will? He's already skating.” He leans down to speak quietly. “Between you and me, I think he's looking for you.” He chuckles.

“Me?” You ask, earning a nod from Mr. Emily. “Why would he be looking for me?”

“I've heard you're quite the skater, young lady, and Will is looking for someone… well, someone who can keep up with him.” He chuckles. One of your friends elbows you slightly, arching her brow at you. You're practically pulled from the bench, getting dragged to the wall to look out over the rink floor. Sure enough, you found Will. He wore a pair of dark purple skates with bright yellow wheels, which easily stood out from his otherwise entirely black ensemble of jeans and a tight fitting T-shirt. He was skating in the middle of the rink, easily gliding around the center as he practiced a few simple warm up moves in time with the music that was playing.

“What are you waiting for? Go talk to him!” You're ushered out onto the floor, nervously cracking your knuckles as you rolled in his direction.

“Well, well, well, look who decided to join me.” He glides over to you, you thought your boss was a big man before, but seeing him wearing roller skates gave him a new, even more monstrous height.

“Mr. Emily was telling me you were looking for a skating partner…” You trail off with a coy smile.

“You think you're up for the task?” He rebuttals with a chuckle.

“With all due respect, Mr. Afton, I may be young but I'd like to think I'm pretty talented.” He offers you his hand with a gentle smile.

“Then why don't you prove it, rabbit.” Your hand slips into his. You both started off slow, just rolling next to each other at the start.

“I didn't think you'd be into something like this.” You remark casually.

“There's a lot of things you don't know about me, little lady.” He chuckles.

“I guess you're right, but there's a lot you don't know about me either.” Will’s hand comes to the small of your back as he carefully steps around you, avoiding your coworker that was sprawled out on the floor after slipping on his skates.

“I know a lot more than you think, rabbit.” You barely caught his response, the feeling of his hand burning against your skin.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” You challenge.

“Well…” he pauses for a second to think. You had found yourself drifting closer to him the longer you skated. Your awkward gliding side by side now turning more into a synchronized strut as you allow yourself to bump into his side. His hand slides across your back, wrapping securely around your waist as he keeps you tucked safely into his side. “I know that you don't like crowds, you prefer colder weather because you always get so, adorably excited whenever you can start wearing sweaters again… and don't think I haven't noticed your little Fizzy-Faz obsession.” He finishes with a laugh.

“What flavor-” You're cut off as he suddenly stops down to bring his face closer to yours.

“Cherry, because it always stains your lips the prettiest shade of pink.” He shoots you a playful smirk, noticing your flustered expression. You perk up when the music changes, Will glances at you curiously.

“I love this song!” You exclaim giddily. One of your friends whips past you, spinning and dancing along to the beat.

“You want to go join your friends?” He asks, you could hear the twinge of disappointment in his voice.

“If it’s all the same to you Mr. Afton… I’d like to stay here with you.” A smile slowly stretches across his features.

“You can call me Will, sweetheart.” He responds with a chuckle. “And I’d love to have a pretty little thing like you on my arm all night.”

“Dance with me, then.” You insist with a coy smile.

“Don't have to tell me twice.” He smiles. He maneuvers himself behind you, his hands coming to rest on the curves of your waist as he allows you to take the lead. He follows you closely through some of your favorite moves, “guess you weren't all talk, were you, baby?” You smile, taking his hand in yours.

“What can I say? I found a pretty good partner.” He chuckles at your response. You squeal as he tightens his grip around your waist, pressing you into his side as he effortlessly lifts you from the ground, spinning with you in his arms. You skated with Will for hours, enjoying some intimate small talk as he wrapped you up in his arms, his scruffy cheek pressed to yours as he leaned down to whisper compliments in your ear, each one leaving you more flustered than the last. He taught you a few more complicated moves he had learned over his skating career, both of you lagging as you fell into him more often than you would care to admit. But, every time Will was there to catch you in a strong embrace. Every so often you would catch sight of your friends, all of them ecstatic that you had managed to snag some alone time with the man that seemed to occupy your every thought. Your cheeks would grow warm as they would blow kisses at the two of you, one even screaming “get it girl!” As you rolled past, Will chuckled at the passing comment.

“It almost seems like they were expecting this to happen.” He says, shooting you a knowing smirk. Your heart pounded in your chest as you glanced up at him. It was the first time tonight you had really stopped to acknowledge how handsome he looked tonight. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled down at you, his steely gray eyes almost seemed to shimmer under the neon roller rink lights. His strong arms stayed wrapped around your waist, muscles tensing under the delicate touch of your fingers. The musky smell of his cologne mixed with the subtle scent of cigarettes and machine oil clouded your thoughts. 

“Will, I…” you swallow thickly, your mouth dry as you try to push out the confession you had been hiding for so long.

“Alright, you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here!” You both stumble slightly as the lights suddenly flash on, Will catching himself on the wall, pulling you flush against his chest to keep you upright.

“You okay?” The concern in his tone made your chest tighten.

“Yeah, thanks to you.” He scoops you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style as he skates towards the edge of the rink.

“Would you…” he sucks in a deep breath. “Would you like to join me for a coffee or something?” You can't help but smile at his awkward invitation. “Call me selfish, but I'm just not ready to say goodnight to you yet.”

“I would love to. However, I'm the designated driver for whichever of my girls didn't get picked up by one of your horndog chefs.” You explain with a chuckle. He carefully sets you down on the neon star covered carpet, “unfortunately, it would have to be some other time.”

“I could always help you get everyone home.” He offers quietly.

“If you don't mind being in a car full of drunk party girls.” You giggle.

“Spending time with you is worth it.” He slings a heavy arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side as you head to take off your skates.

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“You are huge!” Chrissy drunkenly slurs as Will slides into the driver's seat of his car. You attempt to hide your embarrassed expression, dropping your face into your hands with a laugh, Will simply chuckles at the outburst.

“Where am I headed, kiddo?” Will asks, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. She slurs out her address, Will seemingly having caught enough of it to know where he was heading. Chrissy sits forward, bringing her face next to yours in an attempt to whisper something, her lack of volume control at the moment made her attempt less than successful.

“He's seriously your boss?” You nod in response. “He's fucking hot… no wonder you want to–” You quickly clamp your hand over her mouth.

“Chrissy, you're drunk.” You laugh trying to quickly snap her off the subject.

“You're drunk!” She responds when she finally manages to push your palm away from her face. “I'm just saying, if she doesn't let you bring her home, I'm available!”

“Chrissy!” You exclaim in horror. Will snorts out a laugh at her statement.

When you finally drop her off your mind was absolutely reeling, not knowing what Will would have to say to you after listening to your friends drunk ramblings. “She's safely inside, her sister looked terrified of me.” He jokes.

“Well, it's not every day you have an incredibly handsome wall of man dropping off your drunk sister, I guess.” You froze after you registered what you had said. “I am so sorry–”

“So, you think I'm handsome?” You were nervous to look at him at first, not sure how that question was supposed to be interpreted. Your shoulders soften as you meet Will’s gentle gaze. You nod apprehensively, still too nervous to reiterate that fact out loud. “Well, if it's any consolation, rabbit…” He slides closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulls you into his side. He gently takes your chin between his fingers, not allowing you to look away. “I think you're very, very pretty.” He growls seductively. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips come to rest against yours. Kissing Will was a lot different than how you had imagined it. He was surprisingly gentle with you, as if you were made of glass. His fingers gently kneaded against your plush waist, his other hand leaving your chin in order to cradle your cheek in his palm, his strong fingers lacing their way into your hair. You kissed him until your lungs burned, so caught up in him that you had neglected to breathe.

It takes you a moment to regain yourself. Your eyes hazy, pupils blown, Will’s chest filled with a sense of pride at the sight. “Will?”

“Yes, bunny?”

“Did you still want to grab that coffee?”

His smile widens in response, “of course, pretty girl. Anything if it means getting to spend more time with you.”

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[randooffthestreet]

Roach didn't know much about his captain other than his last name and callsign. He didn't take too kindly to questions, and most were too intimidated to even try asking. He couldn’t help but be curious, though, when he saw a picture sitting on his captain’s desk. The others had already left after the debrief, going to the tarmac to get ready, but he lingered, staring at the unfamiliar face among his COs.

His captain noticed him still standing there and looked up from the paperwork in his hand. “Something the matter, Sanderson?” Roach furrowed his brow. “Who is that?” He signed, watching his captain turn his head to try and see what he was looking at.

When he saw the picture that he usually hid before debriefings, he sighed heavily, picking it up and staring at it…almost longingly. “You already know Gaz and Price, yeah?” He nodded. Captain Price had retired a few years back, entering a cushy and well deserved civilian life, and Captain Garrick was the one who had recommended him to join TF 141.

The silence dragged on for a bit, Roach shifting uncomfortably as he waited for a response. The captain set the photo back down. “You would’ve liked him. Everyone did, even if he didn’t know it himself most of the time.”

His breathing stuttered over another sigh, and Roach was almost alarmed by how much emotion his usually stoic captain was showing. “You were friends?” He asked.

Captain Riley hesitated, chewing his lip. “You could say that.” He said roughly. “His name is- was Soap MacTavish. My sergeant. Johnny.” He stared at the picture for a bit longer. “Roach- you’re a smart kid. You’re skilled, one of the best soldiers the SAS has, you know that?”

Roach found himself becoming a bit shy at that. “Not better than any other soldier.” Riley shook his head. “You are. Don’t doubt your abilities, kid. He was too. Better than me, even if he didn’t believe it.”

Ghost crossed his arms, leaning forward in his chair.

“Listen, Gary.. live without regrets. That’s all I can tell you. The thing I regret the most was not telling him everything I wanted to. Don’t do that to yourself. Rejection hurts a hell of a lot less than not knowing if something- if-”

He cut himself off, rubbing his temples. “Fuckin hell. You didn't ask to listen to me ramble. The people you trust can hurt you the most. By betraying you…or by leaving you. But love- friendships- those are worth being hurt for.” Roach just stared at him, trying to take in all this new information.

“It’s alright, sir. I understand.” He hesitated before continuing. “Johnny sounds like a good man. Especially if you liked him.” Captain Riley laughed softly. “He was more suited to be captain than I am. Would’ve kicked your ass for calling him Johnny, though. Go get ready for the mission, kid.” He saluted and left the office.

Ghost picked up the picture again when Roach left the office, tracing his face through the glass of the frame. “You would’ve liked him, Johnny. He's a good kid. Miss you.”

He kissed his fingers and pressed it to the glass before tucking it back in a drawer of his desk. He didn’t need someone else asking questions.

[httpvomitello]

Hi! If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to request something. Our BAYVERSE boys (separately) meet April’s best friend. Over time, they fall in love with her. Although she’s kind and sweet, she’s also somewhat reserved and prefers that the guys don’t come to her house too often—not because she’s rude, but because she “wants to avoid her nosy neighbors seeing them.”

However, one night, the guys show up at her house unannounced and only see a little boy or girl who, upon seeing them, screams for their mom in fear. The reader rushes over, scared by the scream, and when they see her, her “secret” is revealed: she’s a single mother. She had avoided mentioning it or letting the guys come over when her child was around because she wanted to avoid the risk of them making her feel bad about how the child’s father used her and abandoned her when she got pregnant—or worse, rejecting her child. It’s not that she doesn’t trust them, but she and her child have already endured a lot of humiliation from others in the past due to the man who used her and left. She just wanted to avoid the risk and the pain of going through that again.

Hello, hello! Soo, I decided to do it in separate parts, because that way it will be easier to read. I hope you like it! ♡♡♡♡

Shell of Trust *⁠.⁠✧

The night was quiet, save for the distant hum of traffic and the occasional bark of a dog. Leonardo landed silently on the rooftop of your building, glancing down at the soft glow of light from your apartment window. It was late, but the others had finally convinced him to check in on you.

You’d been distant lately—kind but reserved. Leo understood boundaries better than most, but something about the way you always avoided having them over to your house tugged at his thoughts. You weren’t rude about it, just… firm. And while he respected that, he couldn’t help but feel like you were keeping something from them.

“You’re overthinking again,” he muttered to himself, leaping down to the fire escape. The light spilling through the curtain drew him closer.

Before he could knock, the faint sound of a child's laughter reached his ears. He froze.

Still, curiosity got the better of him, and he gently rapped his knuckles on the glass. The laughter stopped abruptly, replaced by a small, terrified scream.

“Mommy! Monster!”

The panic in the voice sent a wave of guilt crashing through him. He stepped back instinctively, heart racing. The sound of hurried footsteps followed, and you appeared at the window, eyes wide and startled.

When you saw him, relief flashed across your face, but it was quickly replaced by something else—an emotion he couldn’t quite place.

You slid the window open. “Leo?”

“Sorry,” he said quickly, his voice low and calm. “I didn’t mean to scare anyone. I—uh—just wanted to check on you.”

Behind you, a little girl peeked out from behind your legs, her wide, tear-filled eyes fixed on him. She clutched your hand tightly.

You turned, kneeling beside her. “It’s okay, Violet. He’s a friend of Mommy’s. He won’t hurt you, I promise.”

Leo’s heart clenched at the sight. The girl—your daughter—hid her face in your side, trembling slightly. He took a small step back, giving her space.

“I’m sorry,” you said, standing up and motioning him inside. “Come in, but… keep your voice down, okay? She’s still a little shaken.”

He climbed through the window carefully, his movements slow and deliberate. Once inside, he stood awkwardly, unsure where to look.

Your living room was cozy, with toys scattered here and there, and a faint aroma of something sweet lingered in the air. It felt… homey.

You guided Violet to the couch, sitting her down gently. “Stay here for a minute, okay, sweetheart? I’ll be right back.”

She nodded hesitantly, her eyes darting back to Leo as you led him into the kitchen.

The moment the door closed, you turned to face him. “I’m sorry, Leo. I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

“Find out what?” he asked softly, though he already knew the answer.

You sighed, crossing your arms protectively. “About Violet. About me.”

He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You hesitated, leaning against the counter. “Because… I didn’t know how. People judge single moms all the time. They assume we’ve made mistakes, that we’re damaged goods. I didn’t want you—or the others—to look at me like that.”

Leo’s gaze softened, and he stepped closer. “We’d never think that about you.”

You shook your head, your voice trembling slightly. “You say that now, but I’ve heard it all before. People pretending to understand, pretending it doesn’t matter, but then they change. They look at Violet like she’s some kind of burden. I couldn’t risk that—not for her and not for me.”

Leo’s chest tightened at the pain in your voice. He could see now how much this secret had weighed on you, how deeply you had wanted to protect your daughter.

“Do you really think I’d be like that?” he asked quietly.

Your eyes met his, uncertainty flickering in them. “I don’t know. I wanted to trust you, but… I’ve been wrong about people before.”

He nodded slowly, taking in your words. “I understand why you’d feel that way. But you don’t have to hide this from me—or any of us. You’re an amazing person, and from what I’ve seen, an incredible mom. Violet is lucky to have you.”

Your lips parted in surprise, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. His words were genuine, unshakable, and they struck a chord deep within you.

“She’s my whole world,” you whispered. “I just… I didn’t want anyone making her feel like she wasn’t enough.”

Leo smiled softly. “She’s more than enough. And so are you.”

The tension in your shoulders eased, and you let out a shaky laugh. “You’re really something, you know that?”

“Good something, I hope,” he said, his tone light.

You nodded, a genuine smile breaking through. “The best something.”

From the living room, Violet called out hesitantly, “Mommy?”

You turned toward the door. “I’m here, sweetheart.”

Leo stepped aside as you went to check on her, but not before glancing at him over your shoulder. “Thank you, Leo. For being… you.”

As you disappeared into the other room, he leaned against the counter, a small smile tugging at his lips. He’d always admired your strength, but tonight, he saw a whole new side of you—and he was more certain than ever that you were someone worth fighting for.

[moeitsu]

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Ch 21 - What We Might Have Been

Summary: As tensions within the camp simmer and new challenges surface, the gang finds themselves slipping further into uncertainty. Amid the chaos, Kate and Arthur navigate the weight of their individual struggles, leaning on their bond to weather the storm and hold onto what matters most.

Ao3  Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters

AN: Big chapter folks. Nearly 12k words. There's a lot of dialogue in this one, and I sorta got carried away. But there are some characters who needed to speak and who am I to stop them!

TW: Some angst. Brief mention of DV. Micah being a POS.

Tag List: @photo1030 @ariacherie @thatweirdcatlady @ultraporcelainpig @marygillisapologist @eternalsams @lunawolfclaw  @yallgotkik

**please let me know if you would like to be tagged in future chapters!

Story Tags: Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Emotional Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Touch-Starved, Sexual Tension, Friends to Lovers, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Blood and Violence, Survivor Guilt, Caretaking, Period-Typical Racism, Anxiety, Emotional Constipation, Self-Doubt, Men Crying, Bathing/Washing, Sweet/Hot, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff

The sharp cry of an egret pierced the humid morning air, reluctantly pulling Kate from the depths of her slumber. Her mind was still tangled in the remnants of a dream, the line between reality and memory blurred. For a moment, she believed she was back in that blissful night with Arthur, so vivid and warm it felt as though it had just happened. But it hadn’t—it had been a fortnight, though her heart refused to let it drift too far away.

The details of that evening swept over her like a soft breeze: the lush, downy quilt cradling her as she sank into feather-stuffed pillows; the steaming bath that easily fit two, its lavender-scented vapor curling like whispers into the room. She could still see the wallpaper, a delicate pattern of tiny pink roses, cocooning them in a world of their own, safe and unbothered. It had been a sanctuary, a rare moment of peace in a life otherwise fueled by chaos.

But that sanctuary was far away now, and as her eyes adjusted to the dim, decrepit room around her, the reality of Shady Belle settled in. The tattered walls, the scent of mildew, and the low hum of crickets reminded her where she truly was. She groaned and pulled the threadbare blanket over her face, wishing she could disappear back into the comfort of her dream.

Through the worn, holey fabric of the blanket, a flicker of movement caught her eye. Arthur’s shadow flitted across the room as he moved silently, stepping in from the balcony where the faint smell of cigarette smoke still lingered. His presence filled the space, grounding her in a way that made her heart ache and settle all at once.

“Mornin’, beautiful,” he murmured low and familiar, as rough as the calloused hands she knew so well. The cool press of his lips against her forehead was a contradiction to the sticky humidity in the air, and she found herself smiling despite everything.

Kate stretched and let out a long yawn. “Morning,” she mumbled, still thick with sleep. She blinked away the grogginess as she caught sight of Arthur fastening his gun belt, his movements slower than usual. 

“Did you sleep alright?” she asked, noticing the weariness etched into his face.

Arthur glanced over at her, offering a tired but genuine smile. “Yeah, I guess. Just got a lot on my mind,” he admitted.

Kate swung her legs over the side of the bed and started pulling on her boots. “Dutch got you running more jobs already?” she asked as she tried to gauge his mood.

He nodded, reaching for her belt and handing it to her from where it hung on the chair. “Wants me to go talk to some fella named Rains Fall,” he explained. “Apparently, he showed up at the mayor’s party. Dutch heard Cornwall’s name tossed around and thinks it’s worth diggin’ into.”

Kate paused, the memory of Rains Fall flashing in her mind. She remembered his calm yet commanding presence, the quiet dignity in his voice, and the deep sorrow in his eyes. It had been hard to forget. 

“Rains Fall,” she murmured, buckling her belt. “If he’s reaching out, it must be serious.”

Arthur shrugged, his expression guarded. “Serious enough for Dutch to get interested. But Cornwall’s in the mix, so you know how that goes.”

Kate’s stomach turned at the memory of Leviticus Cornwall. The man’s wealth and influence were dangerous, and whenever the gang crossed paths with him, it never ended well. She bit her lip, debating whether to bring up her other concern. 

“That reminds me,” she ventured, “did Dutch mention anything to you about the Trolley Association?”

Arthur gave her a sideways glance as he adjusted his holster. “Yeah, somethin’ about it. Says there’s two big scores down in Saint Denis—the Trolley company and the bank. Not sure which one we’re hittin’ first.”

Kate’s heart sank. She understood the gang needed money, but Dutch’s plans always came with too high a cost. She tightened her jaw, forcing herself to tread carefully. 

“Arthur, I don’t like this,” she said softly. Carrying a note of caution, as though testing his reaction. “Saint Denis ain't some little backwater town, we’re up against an empire here.” 

Arthur sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, his exhaustion evident. “I know, darlin’. I don’t like it much either, but we’re in a tough spot. Just a little more money, and we’ll be outta here. You and me, wherever you wanna go.”

Kate frowned. She’d heard this promise too many times before, a line borrowed straight from Dutch’s playbook. “I need to speak with Dutch about the Trolley,” she said firmly. The memory of Angelo Bronte’s cryptic words at the garden party still gnawed at her. It felt important—urgent even—and Dutch needed to hear it, no matter how he took it.

Arthur’s brows furrowed. “You’re not gonna change his mind, sweetheart,” he said gently, tone laced with reluctant understanding. “Just tell me what you wanna say, and I’ll pass it along.”

Kate hesitated. She could trust Arthur to relay the message, but that wasn’t the point. She needed Dutch to hear it directly from her, to look her in the eye and acknowledge her words. They brought her along to gather intel, and that’s exactly what she had done.

“I’ll tell you,” she said after a beat, “but I’m still going to try. If there’s even a chance he’ll listen, it’s worth it.”

Arthur studied her for a moment, his expression a mix of admiration and concern. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” he said with a faint smile. “Just… be careful, Kate. Dutch doesn’t like bein’ challenged.”

Kate met his gaze, “I’m not challenging him, Arthur. I’m trying to save him from himself.”

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The air on the second-floor balcony was thick with cigar smoke, curling lazily in the humid morning breeze and trailing up into the sky like ghostly tendrils. Dutch and Micah leaned on the rickety railing, their postures casual but their expressions sharp. From their vantage point, they had a commanding view of the camp below, the makeshift village bustling with life as gang members went about their business. Dutch stood like a monarch surveying his kingdom—or a dragon perched atop its hoard.

Kate hesitated in the doorway as Arthur held it open for her, his hand lingering briefly at her back as though offering silent encouragement. Her eyes flicked to Dutch, whose gaze was already on her, a faint smile playing at his lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Micah, as usual, wore his smirk like armor, leaning slightly closer to Dutch as if staking his claim to the man’s favor.

“Arthur, Kate,” Dutch greeted smoothly, gesturing with the glowing end of his cigar. “What brings you two lovebirds up here so early? Come to enjoy the view?”

Kate stepped forward, resisting the urge to glance at Arthur. She could feel his silent presence behind her like a steady anchor. “I overheard something at the mayor’s party,” she began firmly. “Something I think you need to know.”

Dutch’s brows lifted, feigned curiosity masking the calculation in his eyes. “Oh? Do tell,” he drawled, taking another drag from his cigar.

Kate swallowed, steadying herself. “Angelo Bronte mentioned the Trolley Association,” she said, measuring her words. “He said it was a trap. He wasn’t speaking to me—he didn’t think I’d understand. But he said it in Italian, and I caught enough of it to know it’s bad news.”

Micah let out a low chuckle, his grin widening. “A trap, huh? And you just happened to understand the lingo, did you? Convenient.”

Kate shot him a sharp look. “My mother was Italian, Micah. I know enough to get by. Bronte wasn’t trying to hide it—he didn’t think anyone would care. He was talking to one of his men, warning him to stay clear of the deal.”

Dutch’s expression remained inscrutable as he took another puff of his cigar, exhaling slowly. “And what exactly did you hear, Kate? Let’s not be vague.”

Kate’s jaw tightened, but she pressed on. “He said the association was a setup, that there is no money. Anyone trying to hit it would be walking into an ambush. He mentioned the Pinkertons by name—said the whole thing was bait to draw out rodents like us.”

“Rodents,” Micah scoffed, leaning back against the railing. “Sounds like a scare tactic to me. Bronte’s just tryin’ to keep us from touchin’ his city’s treasures.”

Arthur, who had been silent until now, finally spoke, calm yet unyielding. “Micah, if it’s true, we’re walkin’ straight into a noose. Bronte’s got no reason to warn his own men unless there’s somethin’ to it.”

Dutch tapped the ash from his cigar, his gaze fixed on Kate. “You’re sure about this?”

Kate nodded, holding his gaze. “I’m sure. Bronte’s exact words were ‘They‘ll owe me a bounty.’ I don’t like the man, but who else could he be talking about? And I doubt he’s lying to his own people.”

Dutch was quiet for a long moment, the usual gleam in his eyes dimming just slightly as he weighed her words. “Well,” he said finally, “if it is a trap, that’s good to know. But sometimes, Kate, traps are where the most treasure lies.” He added with a wink.

Arthur sighed and Kate felt her heart sink. “Dutch, please. If we don’t take this seriously, we could lose everything.”

His smile returned, though it felt colder now. “You let me worry about the big picture, darlin’. That’s why I’m here.” He turned to Arthur, his voice shifting to the commanding tone Kate knew too well. “Arthur, you take care of Rains Fall. John and I’ll look into Bronte and the Trolly. Make sure we’re not missin’ an opportunity.”

Kate noted the way Micah shifted uncomfortably at the lack of mention of his involvement. His unease brought her a moment of vindication. Arthur gave a stiff nod, but Kate could see the tension in his jaw. He didn’t agree, not fully, but he wouldn’t challenge Dutch here.

Micah’s grin returned as he looked between them. “Looks like the boss has it handled. Ain’t that right?”

Kate clenched her fists, frustration bubbling beneath her calm exterior. “I’ve told you what I know. Do what you want with it, but if this goes south, don’t say you weren’t warned.”

Dutch turned his attention back to the bustling camp below, his voice cutting through the morning air with sharp finality. “You’re dismissed,” he barked, waving them off with a casual flick of his hand. The tone carried his usual arrogant authority, though Kate and Arthur were already making their way down the creaking stairs, the conversation clearly over in their eyes.

Dutch’s posture stiffened as he turned to Micah, his demeanor shifting from the polished charisma of a leader to the prickly defensiveness of a cornered alley cat. “That includes you,” he snapped, his voice low and edged with warning.

Micah scowled, his mouth twitching as if biting back a retort. With a huff, he pushed himself off the railing, muttering under his breath as he stormed toward the door. “I’ll be havin’ a word with Kate soon enough,” he grumbled, the words dripping with irritation and something more sinister.

Dutch didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the horizon, but his jaw tightened. The tension in the air lingered long after Micah’s footsteps faded, leaving the balcony eerily quiet except for the distant hum of the camp below.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate settled in with the girls near the edge of the property, the late morning sun casting long, golden beams over their little corner of the camp. Mary-Beth and Tilly were huddled over a shared wash bin, their hands working diligently through the soapy water as they chatted. Karen, standing nearby, wrung out damp shirts before draping them over the sagging clothesline. 

Abigail perched on an overturned milk crate, her needle flashing in the sunlight as she sewed a hole in John’s shirt. A few feet away, Jack was skipping rocks across a shallow muddy stream, his gray mutt Cain loyally trotting beside him.

Sadie had left only moments before, tipping her hat in farewell as she and Pearson headed to the market. The small circle of women now felt more intimate, their chatter uninterrupted by the rest of the camp. Kate took her seat beside Abigail, leaning her head playfully against her shoulder.

“Why do men always have to be so difficult?” Kate sighed dramatically, though her tone held a teasing edge.

Abigail barked a laugh, not missing a beat. “They’re born that way, sweetie. Only know how to think with that ugly thing danglin’ between their legs.”

Kate snorted, shaking her head. “Ain’t that the truth,” she muttered under her breath, drawing more giggles from the group.

Abigail’s sharp eyes caught movement through the trees, and she nudged Kate with her elbow. “Speaking of the devil,” she teased, nodding toward the treeline. Arthur was saddling Belle, his familiar figure framed by dappled sunlight as he prepared to ride out for the day. “We haven’t had a chance to talk since you got back. We’re dying to hear the details!” Abigail’s voice held a mischievous lilt, her grin barely restrained.

The mere mention of Kate’s night with Arthur sent a ripple of excitement through the group. Mary-Beth and Tilly immediately turned their wide, eager eyes on Kate, while Karen, who had been pretending to ignore the chatter, stepped closer, her interest betrayed by the sly smirk on her face.

Kate groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Absolutely not,” Mary-Beth said, practically bouncing with anticipation. “We need every detail. Was it romantic? Did he make you feel like a princess? Oh! Was he yearning for you, like Romeo yearning for his Jul–”

“Let her speak!” Tilly cut in, her voice brimming with laughter as she waved Mary-Beth into silence. “You’re scaring the poor girl.”

Kate peeked through her fingers, already blushing at their enthusiasm. These women were more than friends—they were her family, and she couldn’t deny how much they genuinely cared about Arthur, too. Their curiosity wasn’t just nosy; it was fueled by a shared hope to see Arthur happy again, and by extension, to see their family hold on to some measure of joy amid their chaotic lives.

“Alright, alright,” Kate relented with a small smile, sitting up straighter. “What do you want to know?”

“How was it?” Mary-Beth asked in a rushed whisper, as though trying to keep the moment sacred. “Did he sweep you off your feet? Was there candlelight? Poetry?”

Karen snorted. “Arthur Morgan? Poetry? Now I’ve gotta hear this.”

Kate laughed, her cheeks warming. “It was... perfect, in its own way. We stayed at this little inn outside of town. We shared a fancy wine—Italian red fit for royalty, no less.”

“Italian red?” Tilly repeated, grinning. “That man knows how to impress.”

Kate nodded. “He even drew us a bath after we—” she looked down bashfully remembering the moment, “it was so relaxing, he really put so much thought into it. It was like, for one night, the world didn’t exist. Just us.”

Mary-Beth clasped her hands to her chest, her eyes shining. “Oh, that’s so romantic. I knew Arthur had it in him!”

Karen chuckled, shaking her head. “Never thought I’d hear Arthur Morgan and romantic in the same sentence. I’ll give him credit, though—he’s full of surprises.”

Kate hesitated, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “He was... vulnerable, too. I think it scared him a little, being that open. It had been so long for the both of us, we were frightened by the intimacy of it in our own ways. But I could tell he wanted me to know how much it meant to him.”

Abigail gave Kate a warm, approving look. “Good for you, Kate. It’s about time Arthur had someone to knock some sense into that thick head of his.”

Mary-Beth leaned closer, her grin downright mischievous now. “So when are we gonna see some little Morgans running around, huh? Oh, I bet they would be so cute!”

The laughter around the circle faltered as Tilly, with a quick flick of her wrist, gently swatted the back of Mary-Beth’s head. “Quit getting ahead of yourself. This ain’t no place to raise a child right now,” she chided. Her words hung in the air, drawing a fleeting glance toward Abigail. Tilly quickly softened, not meaning to offend, but Abigail only nodded solemnly, her needle pausing mid-stitch.

Kate felt her chest tighten. There was that word again—children. 

Her fingers fidgeted, wringing the fabric of her shirt as if trying to ground herself. Arthur’s words from the night before echoed in her mind. He’d been so understanding, so patient. But a stubborn ache still nestled deep within her, whispering that she wasn’t enough. That she could never give him the family he might yearn for, the one he deserved.

Her thoughts drifted to another time, another life. She could still see Lorena’s tiny face, pink and wrinkled, the way her cries had filled the cold night air the moment she was born. The overwhelming joy of holding her for the first time, her fragile body fitting perfectly in Kate’s arms. She could remember the fear when Lorena wouldn’t latch to her breast, followed by the sheer relief when she finally began to suckle. And her husband—his face softened with awe as he cradled their daughter, his hand so large against her tiny frame. It had been a fleeting dream, one snatched away far too soon.

Kate swallowed hard, the memories burning her throat. These women had become her sisters, her confidants in a world where trust was rare. She owed them the truth—not just for their sake, but for her own. Speaking the words aloud felt like carving them into stone, grounding herself in a reality she couldn’t afford to dream away.

“Girls,” Kate said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. But it was enough to draw their attention, their chatter silencing as they turned to her. Abigail tilted her head curiously, Mary-Beth’s eager grin fading into something more thoughtful. Even Karen looked up from the clothesline, sensing the shift in the air.

Kate took a deep breath, gathering her courage. “When this is all said and done—if Arthur and I make it out of this mess alive—you know in my heart, I would love his child more fiercely than anything I’ve ever known.”

The rings Hosea had given her at the garden party suddenly felt like molten iron resting against her chest. She had worn them ever since that night, strung on a simple chain and tucked safely beneath her shirt. They were a constant reminder of his faith in her and Arthur—a faith that now felt like a bittersweet burden. Hosea had never spoken of building a family with Arthur, only of survival. His words echoed in her mind, urging them to keep moving, to never look back, and to carve out a life beyond this.

To live out her days with Arthur—that was the dream. The only dream that mattered. And yet, as much as she clung to it, the weight of those rings made her question if it was a promise she could truly keep 

Her voice wavered, but she pushed on, her gaze fixed on her trembling hands. “But I can’t have a baby. My scars run so deep, and I haven’t bled in years. The doctor said it’s just not possible.” She added with an air of defeat.

The confession hung in the air, heavy and unyielding. Mary-Beth’s mouth opened slightly, her usual stream of romantic notions and optimistic chatter nowhere to be found. Tilly’s dark eyes softened with understanding, while Karen’s jaw tightened. Abigail placed her mending aside, leaning closer to rest a hand on Kate’s knee.

“Oh, honey,” Abigail murmured, voice low and warm. “I am so sorry.”

Kate managed a tight smile, though her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “It’s alright. It’s just… something I’ve had to come to terms with lately. The thought of having children again never even crossed my mind until I met Arthur.”

“Does he know?” Tilly asked quietly, like it was a secret they were trying to keep amongst themselves. 

“Arthur knows,” Kate confirmed, “and he’s been… well, he’s been strong about it. But I guess it still stings, y’know? I just don’t want him to think less of me be–”

“He would never think that Kate,” Karen interrupted, intense and almost angry. “Don’t you ever sell yourself short because of what you went through. You are a survivor, Arthur knows it too.”  

“You didn’t deserve that pain,” Tilly said firmly, her voice resolute. “None of it.”

“No, you didn’t,” Mary-Beth agreed, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her apron. “But you’ve got us now, and Arthur too. We’ll always be your family. And if anyone deserves happiness, it’s you.”

Kate nodded, “seems it’s all a girl can really ask for these days. Happiness.” Her throat was too tight to speak further. 

Abigail gave her knee a reassuring squeeze before sitting back, resuming her sewing. But the energy in the circle had shifted—less playful, perhaps, but more intimate. These women, her sisters in arms, had embraced her truth without judgment, offering her the quiet strength and support she hadn’t realized she needed.

Jack’s cheerful laughter broke the moment as he chased Cain along the water’s edge. The sight brought a small, genuine smile to Kate’s lips. Children weren’t in her future—but she wasn’t without family. And for now, in this fleeting moment of peace, that was enough.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The afternoon sun blazed down on the camp, its relentless heat turning the air thick and sticky. Cicadas shrieked from the swampland, their hum almost deafening as it blended with the soft rustle of the bayou breeze. Kate wiped the sweat from her brow and cupped her hands around her mouth, calling out again, her voice tinged with worry.

“Lorena!” she shouted, cutting through the oppressive haze. Her mare was nowhere in sight. Kate’s stomach twisted with unease—Lorena always came when called. Even from a distance, she had an uncanny knack for recognizing Kate’s voice. But now? Silence.

Miss Grimshaw had sent Kate out to gather firewood, complaining that the damp logs wouldn’t burn worth a damn. Kate had been happy to oblige, eager for an excuse to stretch her legs and ride out of camp for a bit. But now her mind buzzed with worst-case scenarios. Did she wander too far? Or… did something happen to her? Images of lurking gators and toothy predators crept into her thoughts, making her heart pound faster.

She jogged back into camp, weaving between wagons and tents, her boots kicking up dry dust. “Kieran!” she called, sharp with urgency. She spotted him near the edge of camp, hunched over a rotting fence as he worked on a battered leather saddle. The young man flinched at her shout, straightening so abruptly that his hat nearly tumbled off his head.

Kate quickened her pace, closing the distance. “Kieran,” she repeated, softer this time, though her nerves still frayed her tone. “Have you seen Lorena?”

Kieran turned to face her fully, and Kate’s breath hitched. Beneath the brim of his straw hat, his right eye was swollen and discolored, a deep purple bruise spreading across his cheekbone. She winced, anger bubbling at the sight. The others were too harsh on him, always using him as their punching bag.

Kieran stepped back instinctively, holding up his hands in defense, his good eye darting nervously. “I—I swear, Kate, I was meanin’ to tell ya,” he stammered, words spilling out in a panicked rush. “But you were with Miss Mary-Beth, and I didn’t wanna interrupt—”

“Easy, Kieran,” Kate said, lifting her hands to calm him. “Just tell me what’s going on. Where’s Lorena?”

Kieran hesitated, glancing down at his boots like a guilty child caught in a lie. “Micah took her,” he mumbled, the words almost too quiet to hear. He flinched at the cold look that flashed across Kate’s face and quickly added, “B-but I tried to stop him! I swear I did! Told him, ‘You’ll have to get through me if you want her!’ And, well… he did.” He gestured to his bruised face, grimacing.

Kate’s fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. “He said he was takin’ her to exercise by the lake, just past the manor,” Kieran continued in a rush, voice trembling. “I didn’t wanna bother you or the girls. They, uh… they don’t really like me much. But I should’ve told ya sooner, I know I should’ve. I’m sorry.”

Kate exhaled slowly, trying to tamp down the storm of anger brewing inside her. Micah. Of course, it was him. This wasn’t about exercising Lorena—it was a ploy, a pathetic attempt to get under her skin. She’d seen him pull stunts like this before, but involving her horse? That was a step too far.

Still, she couldn’t bring herself to snap at Kieran. The poor man had already taken a beating for trying to protect her mare. “You did what you could,” Kate said, her voice steady, though her jaw remained tight. “Thanks for telling me.”

Kieran’s shoulders sagged with relief, but guilt still clouded his expression. “Take Branwen with ya,” he offered, nodding toward his gelding tied nearby. “He’s fast and steady. He’ll get you there safe.”

“Thank you,” Kate placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll handle this, Kieran. And don’t let these idiots make you feel like you’re less than you are. You’re better than all of ‘em. Remember that.”

Kieran’s face flushed, and he gave a shy nod. “Be careful, Kate.”

“I will.” She turned on her heel, her boots crunching against the dirt as she strode toward Branwen. Her mind was already racing with how she’d confront Micah—and what it would take to bring Lorena back safe and sound. Whatever game he was playing, it ended here.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The sun was dipping low, casting jagged shadows across the bayou as Kate rode Branwen toward the lake Micah had mentioned. Her heart hammered in her chest, but her resolve was steely. The thought of Lorena—her steadfast, loyal mare—being used as a pawn in one of Micah’s twisted games only fueled her determination. 

She thought of the last time he had decided to cross her, the cool press of her jawbone knife against his throat as she led him away from the others for private conversation. Clearly her threat didn’t do much good, or perhaps Micah was more stupid than he looked. Maybe this time I’ll take a pound of his flesh as penance, Kate thought with a vengeful sneer.

As she approached the clearing by the water, she spotted them. Lorena stood grazing peacefully near the water’s edge, her glossy midnight coat shimmering in the golden light. Upon her arrival the young mare looked up and tossed her head, expressing her unease at the situation.

Relief washed over Kate for a brief moment—at least her mare was unharmed. But then her eyes found Micah. He was perched lazily on a fallen log, his hat tilted back and a smug grin plastered across his face, as if he’d been waiting for her.

Kate dismounted Branwen swiftly, her boots crunching against the damp ground as she approached. Micah’s grin widened, his sharp eyes tracking her every move. She fought down the urge to wipe his smile off with her fist.

“Ah, look who finally came runnin’,” he drawled, his voice thick with mockery. “I was wonderin’ how long it’d take you to miss your precious pony.” He sat up on the log to face her fully.

Kate stopped a few feet away, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Cut the shit, Micah. What the hell are you playing at? You’ve got my attention so get on with it before I shoot you for stealin’ my horse.” Lorena came closer and nuzzled her snout against Kate’s back, standing protectively behind her.

Micah chuckled lowly, shaking his head as he stood. “Steal? Oh, come on now, darlin’. I was just takin’ her out for some air, stretchin’ her legs. You really oughta be thankin’ me for my kindness.”

Kate’s jaw tightened, and her simmering anger finally reached its boiling point. She slapped him hard across the mouth. Lorena’s ears flattened as the sound echoed over the lake. 

“Don’t insult me! I know damn well you didn’t do this out of the kindness of your heart. If you went through all this trouble to get my attention then you’re wasting your time.” She turned to her mare, prepared to jump in the saddle and take off without a moment's hesitation.

Micah only chuckled and rubbed at the pink mark across his cheek. He stepped closer, his grin fading slightly, replaced by something more calculating. “Fine. You wanna get straight to it then? Here it is—I’m happy for you and Arthur.” The words dripped with insincerity, his smirk returning as he added, “Real happy. Warms my heart seein’ the two of you lovebirds all cozy.” He wrapped his arms around his body and shimmied, mocking her affections.

Kate rolled her eyes in annoyance, her voice icy. “Fuck.You.” She spat. “You don’t give a rat's ass about my life, or Arthur’s.”

“How perceptive,” his laugh was sharp and bitter. “You’re right. I don’t give a shit. But you two are livin’ in a damn dream world, and dreams don’t last long out here sweetheart.”

Kate’s heart pounded harder, though she kept her expression steady. “What are you gettin’ at, Micah?” Pulling a brush from her saddle bag she idly cleaned Lorena’s coat to maintain an air of indifference. There was an undeniable threat hidden behind his words that put her on edge.

Micah leaned in slightly, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret. “I’m sayin’ you and your cowboy should saddle up and ride out while you still can. Things are shiftin’, Kate. Dutch is losing sense, and this little family of his? It’s startin’ to crack. You stick around, you ought to get caught in the crossfire.”

It was clear as day—Dutch was leading them into darkness. Kate could see it, and so could Arthur, but his loyalty bound him like chains. That unwavering faith, instilled in him since he was just a boy, refused to break. Arthur still clung to the hope that Dutch, his fearless leader, would guide them through every trial, that he’d brave the fires of hell itself for their sake. But Kate knew better, and the others were beginning to catch on. If it were up to her, she would have taken Arthur and the Marstons and left the moment the raid was done. The image of Jack’s terrified face and Abigail’s heart-wrenching sobs would haunt her forever. No family should have to endure such horror—especially not their child.

After Sean’s death and Jack’s kidnapping, it felt like the next tragedy was just a card flip away. And Kate had no faith in the hand Micah was dealing—he knew something the rest of them didn’t, and she was certain he was betting it all on a game rigged in his favor.

Unflinching, Kate squared her shoulders. “Funny how you care so much all of a sudden. You’ve been gunnin’ to get rid of Arthur since the day you joined. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Micah’s grin faltered, his eyes darkening. “Arthur thinks he’s untouchable, thinks Dutch will always have his back. But you’ve seen it, haven’t you? The favoritism shiftin’. Arthur ain’t who he used to be, maybe it’s time a good fellow like me takes the reins.”

Kate took a step closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous calm. “You’re right, I have seen it. But you? You’ll always be on the bottom of the totem pole, no matter how hard you try to claw your way to the top. Arthur doesn’t trust you, and neither does anyone else.” She wanted to believe that was true, but she couldn’t deny that nearly every trap they’ve fallen into, Micah and Dutch had some part in it.

Micah’s jaw clenched, the easy arrogance slipping for just a moment. Then he laughed again, though it was hollow. “Maybe. But at least I know how to adapt, Kate. Can you say the same for Arthur? For you? We’ve all seen the way he looks at ya, like he’s caught between love and loyalty. Maybe all he really needs is a little push.”

Kate felt a pang of unease at his words, but she refused to let him see it. “We’re stronger than you think. And if you’re trying to scare me, it’s not working.”

Micah tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “Suit yourself. Y’know, Kate, you and I woulda made a hell of a team. It’s a damn shame you gave up on all that Red River nonsense.”

The name hit her like a gunshot, her breath hitching as her body stiffened. Red River. It wasn’t just a place or a memory; it was a wound she had worked tirelessly to sew shut, only to feel it tearing open again. How did Micah know? His words coiled around her like a noose, tightening with every second of silence. Her mind was scrambling for answers, for any clue as to how he could have dredged up a chapter of her life she had buried so deep it felt like another lifetime.

Red River had been a crucible, a place where violence wasn’t merely a means to survive but the only currency that mattered. It was a legacy. River, her old mentor, confidant, and the closest thing to an ally she’d ever known in those days, had worn the title like a crown. To him, it was a badge of honor that commanded respect and dread in equal measure.

The name wasn’t just earned; it was carved into the memory of every place they left behind. Kate could still see the black ink of the newspapers they passed on those rare occasions they ventured through town after another excruciating bloodbath. The headlines always whispered the same chilling phrase: Beware—The Red River Flows.

She could never forget the weight of that notoriety, the way strangers’ faces twisted in fear at the mere mention of them. It was intoxicating at the time, but the high never lasted. It was always followed by the sickening crash, the realization of just how deep they had sunk into the abyss. The rivers they left behind weren’t just crimson; they were poisoned with regret, a tide she had fought desperately to escape.

Kate had left it all behind, swearing never to look back. Yet here it was, rising from the depths like a vengeful spirit. Her secrets had been flooding back to her lately—first her barren womb, now the dark and brutal truths she had fought so hard to escape. It was as if the world itself was conspiring to remind her of what she’d been, of what she was still capable of becoming.

Micah’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts, a mocking lilt dripping with arrogance. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya when this all comes crashin’ down.”

Kate turned her back on him, running a hand down Lorena’s neck, grateful to feel the warmth of her trusted companion grounding her to the present. “Stay out of my way, Micah,” she said without looking at him. “And stay the hell away from my horse.”

As Kate swung into Lorena’s saddle, her gaze flicked back to Micah. He stood there, smirking, but beneath the amusement lurked something colder, more calculating. She didn’t trust him—she never had—but his words clung to her like a spur, prickling and persistent.

As she rode toward camp, the wind tugging at her hair, her mind churned with unanswered questions. Whatever Micah was scheming, whatever cards he held close to his chest, one thing was certain: she’d do whatever it took to protect her family. They wouldn’t be the ones to pay the price.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The storm rolled in with a vengeance, its low growl reverberating through the bayou as clouds smothered the fading light. Rain fell in relentless sheets, drenching everything in its path. Arthur Morgan squinted through the downpour as he guided Belle up the muddy path toward the crumbling manor they’d been calling home. Water sluiced off the brim of his hat and soaked through his coat, but he didn’t care much. He’d been through worse storms, though something about tonight gnawed at him—a nagging burden he couldn’t shake.

Belle snorted as Arthur dismounted, shaking her wet mane before trotting off to find her companion. The young cowboy turned toward the manor, ready to do the same. His boots sinking slightly into the mud with each step, his mind already ahead of him. The glow of candlelight flickered weakly in the upstairs window of their shared room, and he found his thoughts drifting to Kate. A pang of guilt struck him; their night in Saint Denis already felt so far away.

Since returning to their lives he’d barely had time to hold her, let alone talk like they used to. She deserved better than a man whose hands were stained and pockets full of excuses. His body was aching to be wrapped around his woman and let the world melt away. Wanting to throw caution to the wind and make love to her on their shared cot without a care who would hear. 

A sudden streak of color in the storm’s gloom caught his eye. Bright red, a startling splash against the gray monotony of rain and mud. He stopped, narrowing his eyes. It was Molly O’Shea, standing alone at the end of the dock, her dress clinging to her in the rain, her fiery red hair whipping about. Like a burning ember taking off in the wind. 

Arthur frowned. It wasn’t just odd to see her out here—it was unsettling. Molly rarely ventured far from Dutch’s shadow, and her fragile mood had been fracturing more and more with each passing day. The echoes of laughter and conversation drifted faintly from the manor, but Molly had chosen the isolation of the storm.

With a sigh of resignation, Arthur tugged his coat tighter and shouldered the burden of responsibility. Headed for the dock, his boots splashing through puddles as the rain needled his face. "Miss. O’Shea!" his voice was nearly swallowed by a crash of thunder. "What in hell’re you doin’ out here? Get inside before you catch your death!"

“Miss. O’Shea!” He shouted again after she didn’t move. Her shoulders were rigid, her arms folded tight across her chest. It wasn’t until Arthur reached her and grabbed her wrist that she reacted, jerking back like a startled animal.

"Let me go!" she cried, voice raw and trembling. "Leave me be, Arthur!"

Arthur tightened his grip, his patience thinning with the storm battering at his resolve. "For God’s sake, woman, what are you tryin’ to prove? You think standin’ out here in the rain is gonna fix anything?"

Her face turned up to his, and he saw it—anger and heartbreak etched in equal measure, tears mixing with the rain on her flushed cheeks. "You don’t understand!" she yelled, her voice cracking. "None of you do!”

“I’m just a goddamn shadow in this place. And now I’ve been tossed aside, burned to ash like his used cigar." She explained in a rush. 

Arthur’s jaw tightened, frustration bubbling beneath his weariness. He knew exactly where this was headed— she and Dutch had another fight, only adding more turmoil to their situation. “That ain’t true, and you know it,” he said, rough with exhaustion. “Dutch is just under a lot of pressure. Now quit actin’ foolish and—”

“I am no idiot, Arthur Morgan!” Molly’s fists struck his chest, weak but relentless, her anger spilling over like a dam that had finally burst. “I know I deserve better than this!”

Arthur flinched at her words, not from the force of her blows but from the rawness of her pain. He raised his hands, palms up in a gesture of peace. “C’mon, Molly. You know what I meant,” he said softly, already regretting the edge in his earlier tone.

Molly’s eyes blazed as her fists continued to strike, her voice rising over the pounding rain. “He only cares about his plans and himself, and I’m tired of it! I’m done!” Her knuckles whitened as she clenched her hands, her words cracking under the weight of her sobs. “I gave him everything!”

Arthur stood firm, letting her vent her fury. He had seen this kind of desperation before, a fire that burned brightest right before it consumed everything. Deep down, he had hoped Kate’s idea to invite Molly to the garden party would give her a reprieve, a chance to bond with the others. But Molly had stayed on the fringes, choosing isolation. Now, Arthur was beginning to see why. She wasn’t just lonely—she was cast adrift in a sea of her own pain.

“You don’t understand,” Molly whispered, her voice breaking as her fists fell limply against his soaked coat. Her strength was spent, and her grief clung to her like the rain. “You don’t understand what it’s like to love someone who promised you everything, only to turn around and look at you like you’re nothing.”

Arthur exhaled slowly, his frustration melting into something softer. He reached out, pulling her trembling form against his chest, her forehead resting on his collarbone. “Look,” he began, his voice low and careful, “I know things ain’t exactly been easy lately but—”

“I see things clearly now,” she cut him off, her voice steadier but colder.

Arthur froze as her next words fell like a thunderclap. “And I will not let him cage me or my child.”

His breath caught, his chest tightening as if he’d taken a bullet. “What?” The single word slipped out, stunned and disbelieving.

Molly’s trembling hand wiped at her wet face, her defiance now tempered by visible fear. Arthur’s hands rested lightly on her shoulders, steady but not confining. “Does he know this?” he asked, his voice hushed but firm.

Her eyes darted away, her teeth clenching as she hissed, “He can never know.”

Arthur’s mind raced, struggling to piece together what this meant. He wanted to reassure her, to say it would all be fine, but he couldn’t lie—not about this. “Molly... Dutch needs to know,” he said slowly, forcing the words out. “You can’t keep somethin’ like this from him.”

“No!” Molly’s fingers grabbed fistfuls of his coat, her wide eyes brimming with panic. “Arthur, you have no idea what he’ll do! You don’t know!”

Arthur shook his head, the disbelief plain on his face. “You really think he’d hurt you?” he asked, though deep down, the fear in her eyes unsettled him more than he cared to admit. Molly looked away, her silence answering louder than words. The realization hit him like a gut punch, anger, guilt and betrayal swirling together in his chest.

“Shit,” he muttered, unable to muster anything more profound.

He dragged a hand down his face, the weight of the situation settling heavily on his shoulders. Glancing briefly at the flickering light spilling from the manor, he wished Kate were there. She’d know what to say, how to make this mess feel less impossible. “I-I’ll talk some sense into Dutch,” he stammered. “We’ll figure somethin’ out.”

“Please, you cannot tell him!” Molly’s voice rose, the wind carrying her desperation.

Arthur hesitated, his mind like a spinning weathervane. Torn between loyalty, duty, and the undeniable fear in her eyes. “This ain’t right, Molly. You’re askin’ me to—”

“No one can know about this, Arthur,” she interrupted, her voice cracking as the storm rolled closer, the thunder growling like a warning. “Not yet.”

The silence stretched between them, the rain hammering down as Arthur wrestled with his decision. Finally, he gave her a small, reluctant nod. “Alright. I won’t say nothin’.”

Relief flickered briefly in her expression, but it was quickly overshadowed by the lingering dread. She turned, her shoulders hunched as she trudged toward the house, the storm raging around her.

Arthur stayed behind, letting the rain soak him as he stared into the night. He could feel the storm brewing—not just in the skies above, but in the fractures threatening to shatter the fragile foundation of their gang. Whatever was coming, he knew he’d be standing in the middle of it, trying to hold the pieces together.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The storm outside howled, rattling the windows of the old manor and sending tendrils of wind slipping through the cracks. The flickering orange glow of the candles cast shadows that danced across the room's peeling wallpaper, painting the space in warmth and decay. Kate sat on the edge of their creaky cot, a book resting in her hands, though her eyes weren’t on the pages. She’d been listening for the familiar sound of Arthur’s heavy boots on the stairs, waiting for him to come back from another long day.

When he finally appeared in the doorway, she set the book aside, her lips curving into a soft smile. "You look like hell," she mused, taking in the sight of him. His broad figure was soaked to the bone, the rain glistening on his jacket as he moved into the room, shoulders slumped and eyes shadowed with exhaustion.

Arthur didn’t respond. He let his sodden hat drop to the floor with a wet plop, followed by the heavy thud of his soaked jacket and the clinking weight of his gun belt. His boots were kicked off haphazardly, landing somewhere near the door, forgotten as he trudged toward her like a man finally succumbing to the unbearable weight of the world.

Without a word, Arthur sank to his knees before her, as if he was praying at the altar. Bowing his head into her lap like a man at confession. His large hands wrapped around her waist, seeking her solace. 

Kate’s breath hitched, her heart softening at the sight. “Oh, honey,” she murmured, her voice laced with quiet concern. She leaned over him, her hair cascading around them like a curtain, sheltering him from everything beyond. “What happened?”

His wet hair and scruffy face pressed into the fabric of her skirt, damp and chilled, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, her hands moved instinctively, threading through his hair, her fingers trailing gentle strokes over his scalp. Each touch seemed to carry a quiet promise of comfort, warmth, and love. She could feel the tension coiled within him, the weight of it pressing down on his broad shoulders.

Arthur wanted to say everything and nothing all at once. The words clawed at his throat, desperate for release. He wanted to take the burdens off his chest and hang them out to dry in her sunlight. To lay in this moment with her forever, in this perfect silence. All else was futile, he couldn’t find the words to express that he felt like he was the only one taking the defense against a rain of arrows.

He didn’t answer right away. His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer as he pressed his face into the curve of her thighs, breathing deeply. Her scent—clean and warm, with a faint trace of the earth—steadied him, grounding him in a way nothing else could.

The confession lingered on the edge of his tongue, a restless weight he longed to release. He ached to tell her what he knew, if only to shoulder it with someone else. Arthur resolved to let Molly reveal the truth in her own time; it was the only kindness he could offer. 

Kate already carried so much, and he couldn’t bear the thought of adding more to her troubles. More often than not, he was the heaviest of them. So Arthur swallowed the hollow ache in his chest, forcing it down into the depths where it couldn’t touch her.

Her fingers continued their gentle work, combing through his hair and massaging the tense muscles at the base of his neck. "You okay, my love?" she asked quietly, her voice a tender balm to his frayed nerves.

A deep, weary sigh rumbled from his chest as he turned his head, resting his cheek against her like she was the only pillow he’d ever need. "Please tell me you had a better day than I did," he muttered, his voice muffled and low.

Kate smiled faintly, though her heart ached for him. She shifted slightly, her free hand coming to rest on his broad shoulder, her thumb tracing slow, comforting circles. "That bad, huh?"

Arthur let out a small, weary laugh, though it carried no real humor. “You could say that,” he mumbled, avoiding her concerned gaze. Eager to steer the conversation anywhere but the storm raging in his mind, he added, “How was your day?”

Kate raised an eyebrow, tilting her head. She knew that deflection when she saw it but decided to play along for now. “Well,” she started with a wry smile, “can’t say it was all sunshine and roses. Had a little run-in with Micah earlier.”

The mention of Micah’s name wiped the softness from Arthur’s face. His body stiffened, his shoulders squaring as tension rippled through him. That bastard had been giving Kate and the other women a hard time since the day he showed up, and it grated on him that Dutch wouldn’t let him put an end to it the way he wanted to—with a bullet. 

He leaned forward slightly, voice low and rough. “Shit, I’m sorry, darlin’. What’d he do this time?”

Kate waved a hand dismissively, though her jaw tightened at the memory. “Micah was just being Micah. Took Lorena to get under my skin.” Her tone was calm, but the spark of annoyance in her eyes was unmistakable. “I don’t want to get into it, though. Not right now.” She paused, her voice softening. “Tell me about Rains Fall.”

Arthur pulled back slightly, his brows knitting. She had a way of redirecting him, turning his focus away from her troubles without making him feel dismissed. He could sense a hint of something beneath her words—an eagerness she was trying to mask—but he didn’t press. Instead, he stood and began peeling off his damp clothes, speaking as he moved. 

“I didn’t see any broken bones or missin’ fingers, so I take it your girl’s okay?” The corner of his mouth tugged up slightly, his tone teasing.

Kate laughed, a genuine, soft sound that filled the small room and eased the weight pressing on his chest. Her laughter was answer enough. Arthur always admired her strength—not just the physical kind, though she could hold her own—but the mental and emotional resilience she carried. She didn’t back down, not even against someone like Micah, and though he admired it, it worried him too.

As he tugged a dry shirt over his head, Arthur grabbed a cigarette from the table and nodded toward the porch door, signaling his intention without a word. Kate’s eyes flicked to the cigarette, her lips tightening ever so slightly. She wasn’t a fan of his smoking, but she understood it. He only reached for them when his nerves were frayed, and she could tell that today had been one of those days.

She followed him outside, the porch roof offering them a small shelter from the rain. The storm still swirling around them but bringing with it a strange kind of peace in its chaos. Arthur lit the cigarette with ease, taking a slow drag as he leaned against the railing. Kate stood beside him, her arms wrapped around his for warmth, though she didn’t seem to mind the rain-slicked air when it blew against them.

Closing her eyes for a moment as a few drops peppered her face in wet kisses. Kate breathed in the smell of the storm mingled with the scent of Arthur. It was electric and powerful, yet comforting. 

“So,” she pressed gently, “how did it go? With Rains Fall?” 

Arthur exhaled a long stream of smoke, his eyes fixed on the horizon. For a moment, he didn’t answer, the words catching in his throat. But then he glanced at her, the warmth in her gaze enough to coax him into opening up about his day.

“It went about as well as it could, I guess,” he said finally. “He’s... wise. Gentle. But he’s carryin’ a lot on his plate. His people are bein’ crushed, and chased from their own land. He’s really struggling trying to hold ’em together. And running out of options.” He shook his head slightly. 

Kate hummed softly in acknowledgment, her gaze distant as she stared out at the rain. “I’m afraid it’s been that way for a long time, Arthur. They’re a dying herd, with nowhere left to go.” Her voice was tinged with sadness, her thoughts drifting to her own experiences with the Native tribes. Despite the immense losses they had suffered, she remembered their warmth, their resilience. They had welcomed her once, even when the world had turned its back on them.

Arthur leaned against the porch railing, silent for a moment, lost in thought. The cigarette burned slowly between his fingers, a faint orange glow against the stormy gray. “Kinda reminded me of...” His voice trailed off, the words sticking in his throat as his mind shifted to the gang. To Dutch. To the fragile threads holding them all together, fraying more with each passing day.

Kate turned to him, her hand finding his. She squeezed gently, her touch bringing him back. “Remind you of what?” she asked, her voice soft, coaxing.

Arthur shook his head and gave her a small, tired smile. “Sorry. S’not important,” he murmured, taking another slow drag of his cigarette before exhaling the smoke into the rain-laden air. He hesitated, then continued. “Anyway, Cornwall’s behind it all. And he’s got his claws in deep. He’s after their land—wants to start another oil rig on their reservation but they’re refusin’ to leave.”

Kate’s brow furrowed, her fingers still resting on his arm. “What does that mean for them?” She inquired, fearing she already knew the answer. 

Arthur’s expression darkened. “Cornwall’s got the U.S military involved and he denied a peace treaty. His people have nowhere else to go. They can hardly leave the reservation without gettin’ killed.” 

“Jesus,” Kate murmured as thunder cracked across the night sky.

“He wants me to talk sense into his boy, Eagle Flies. The kid’s stirrin’ up talk of a war. He’s ready to fight, Kate” He paused, running a hand over his face. “Rains Fall, though... he doesn't want all this bloodshed. And I don’t see what Dutch has to gain from gettin’ involved in this.”

Kate’s lips pressed into a thin line, concern flickering in her eyes as she studied Arthur’s troubled face. “What do you make of it?” she asked softly, her voice barely rising above the sound of the storm.

Arthur sighed deeply, the weight of the question pressing heavily on his chest. “I think Dutch wants to use Rains Fall and his son to take the heat off us,” he admitted, his voice rough with frustration. “But he can’t let Cornwall go. He’s convinced there’s money in this—some backdoor plan to get us out by stirrin’ up even more trouble.”

Kate reached up, her fingers brushing away a damp strand of hair clinging to his forehead. Her touch was gentle yet grounding, as though tethering him to the here and now. “You’re in a tough spot,” she said quietly, sympathy threading her words.

Arthur huffed a bitter laugh, devoid of humor. “I don’t like it, Kate. There ain’t nothin’ I can do to really help those people, and I don’t want to be the one to make things worse.” His gaze drifted away, out into the storm, the rolling thunder echoing the unrest roiling within him.

Kate placed a steady hand over his heart, her palm cool against his rain-damp shirt. Arthur’s fingers instinctively wrapped around hers, anchoring him. “And you don’t have to be,” she said firmly, her tone carrying a quiet conviction. “You’re not all bad, Arthur. I see the good in you every day.” Her hand slid upward to cup his cheek, her thumb brushing lightly over his scruffy skin. “Maybe it’s time to start choosing it.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into her touch before pressing a tender kiss to her palm. “You’re too sweet for me, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice thick with gratitude and weariness.

Flicking the glowing ember of his cigarette off the porch, Arthur turned to face the manor. He pulled Kate flush against him, her back resting against his broad chest as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Together, they swayed gently to the rhythm of the storm, the low rumble of thunder a steady backdrop. Arthur leaned down, brushing soft, lingering kisses against her temple, his lips speaking volumes where words could not. “Your turn,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. “Tell me about your day.”

Kate sighed, leaning into his embrace as her thoughts churned. She could feel the weight of his exhaustion in the way he held her, in the subtle tremble of his voice. There was more he wasn’t saying—an invisible burden he was shouldering alone. She debated whether to share her own troubles, but her instincts told her he needed something else. Something deeper.

Turning in his arms, she looked up into his stormy blue eyes, searching their depths. “Are you sure words are what you need right now?” she asked softly, dipping into something more intimate.

Without waiting for a response, she snaked her arms around his neck and kissed him, her lips capturing his with a hunger that had been building in her chest. Arthur responded with a low moan, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping past her lips in a fervent, wordless exchange.

The storm outside seemed to mirror their passion, the wind howling through the open porch door as a few of the candles flickered out. Their breaths mingled in the dark each touch and gasp speaking the truths neither of them could say aloud.

A faint creak cut through the noise of the storm, the unmistakable groan of wood shifting under a hesitant step. Arthur and Kate both froze, their heads snapping toward the sound. There, at the edge of the dimly lit porch, stood Jack, his small frame draped in a worn blanket. His wide eyes darted between them, curiosity and confusion painted across his young face.

Arthur cleared his throat, instinctively stepping in front of Kate as if shielding her from the boy’s innocent gaze. “Jack?” he asked gently, softening his tone. “What’re you doin’ out here? You should be sleepin’.”

Jack shifted nervously, clutching the blanket tighter around his shoulders. “The storm’s too loud,” he mumbled, glancing back at the open window of his room. “And Mama won’t let Cain sleep with me.”

Kate stepped forward, brushing her fingers lightly over Arthur’s arm before kneeling in front of Jack. Her warm smile cut through the tension like sunlight through clouds. “Well, you’re in luck,” she said softly. “We’ve got the perfect spot to wait out the storm. Want to hang with us for a bit?”

Jack hesitated, then nodded. Kate scooped him into her embrace, and Arthur noticed how much bigger the boy looked in her arms from the last time she held him. He was growing fast, and the thought tugged at something deep inside Arthur. 

“Does Cain help you sleep through the storm?” Kate asked as she cradled Jack close, her voice gentle.

Jack nodded again, his small head resting heavily against her shoulder. “But Mama says he has fleas,” he added, his tone tinged with disappointment.

Arthur chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Well, maybe your mama’s got a point. Those fleas might eat you alive in your sleep.”

Jack’s head shot up, his tiredness momentarily forgotten. “Cain does not have fleas!” he exclaimed, indignation lighting his face.

Kate bit back a laugh, shaking her head as she stroked his back. This storm had everyone on edge tonight. “Alright, alright,” she said soothingly. “Cain’s the cleanest dog in camp, I’m certain of it.” She winked playfully at Arthur. 

Arthur smirked, but his tone turned more serious. “C’mon, Jack. What’s this really about? I know you ain’t just upset over the puppy. You really shouldn’t be up this late.”

Jack hesitated, shifting uncomfortably in Kate’s arms before finally blurting out, “Nobody plays with me anymore.” His voice was small, as though he feared he’d be scolded. “I just want a friend.”

Arthur sighed, his heart twisting at the boy’s honesty. He placed a hand on Jack’s messy hair, ruffling it lightly. “You got friends, Jack. You got Hosea, Lenny, and even the girls. Hell, I’m your friend too.”

Jack scrunched his nose, unimpressed. “You’re too old, Uncle Arthur. I want to play with other kids.”

Arthur chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Ouch. Guess I’m past my prime, huh?” He ruffled Jack’s hair gently, trying to lighten the mood despite the heaviness settling in his chest. “Alright, listen. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll talk to your mama. Maybe see about putting you in a school. How’s that sound?”

Jack’s eyes lit up with a flicker of hope, and he nodded eagerly. “You think she’ll say yes?”

Arthur forced a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “We’ll see, kid. No harm in tryin’.”

As Jack leaned into Kate’s arms, already lulled by her presence, Arthur felt his heart lurch. He knew those words were hollow, a fragile attempt to bring the boy comfort. School wasn’t in the cards, not for someone living this life. Jack’s classroom was these four walls, his teachers were the outlaws who kept the camp afloat. Arthur knew it wasn’t fair—knew it because it was exactly how he’d been raised.

He swallowed hard, guilt gnawing at him. Jack deserved better than this, deserved a chance to run with other kids, to laugh without the weight of an uncertain future hanging over him. But the life they’d chosen, the life Dutch swore would set them free, was a cage in its own way. Molly’s words suddenly came back to him like a flood. 

I will not let him cage me or my child.

Jack gave a sleepy nod, his earlier frustration fading as exhaustion took hold again. Kate pressed a gentle kiss to his temple. “Let’s get you back to bed, little one,” she said, turning towards the door with him still in her arms.

Arthur followed Kate and Jack inside, the storm outside muffling into a distant rumble. The flickering lanterns cast warm, restless shadows on the walls as Kate carried the drowsy boy down the hall. By the time they reached his room, Jack’s head was already heavy on her shoulder.

Arthur leaned against the doorway, watching as she settled the boy into bed with a mother’s touch. His voice was soft, almost reverent, as he said, “You’re good with him.”

Kate glanced back at him, her smile warm but faint. “He just needs someone to listen,” she whispered, brushing Jack’s hair back before pulling the blanket snugly around him.

As Kate began singing a lullaby, Arthur waited outside, his arms crossed, gaze dropping to the floor. Her voice rose gently, weaving through the gaps in the old wooden walls:

"Darlin', I'd wait for you,Even if you didn't ask me to.Tie a lasso around the moon,And bring it on down to you."

The soft melody wrapped around Arthur like a memory he hadn’t known he missed. It held a kind of peace he wasn’t sure he deserved, yet couldn’t help but crave.

The creak of boots on the stairs broke the moment. Arthur straightened, his eyes meeting John’s as the younger man stepped into the lamplight. John’s gaze flickered briefly to the bedroom door before landing on Arthur.

“Storm keeping you up?” John asked, keeping his voice low.

Arthur shrugged, his jaw tightening. “Somethin’ like that.”

Kate’s voice drifted through the cracks again, the soft rise and fall of her melody filling the quiet tension between them:

"I'd bottle the feelin' you give me,And shelve that stuff for years to come.'Cause, baby, when your arms are around me,I'd swear that I'm holding the sun."

John adjusted his hat, stepping closer. “You look like you could use a drink.”

Arthur huffed a tired laugh. “You’re not wrong.”

But John wasn’t here to make small talk. “You find anything worthwhile from Rains Fall today?” he asked, his tone sharpening.

Arthur sighed, glancing at the warped floorboards. “Cornwall’s got it all locked down. We shouldn’t be meddlin’ in this, John. I don’t know what Dutch is thinkin’ anymore.”

John scoffed, his expression hardened. “He’s thinkin’ about his own damn survival, as always. If it’s any consolation, Kate’s intel on the trolley company checked out—there’s no money there. Absolutely nothing. Dutch is fumin’.”

“Good,” Arthur muttered. “One less suicide mission.” He straightened, his voice gaining an edge. “Maybe now Dutch’ll take her more seriously.”

John’s brow arched, his tone suddenly more pointed. “That really what you want, Arthur?”

Arthur frowned, his confusion evident. “What’re you gettin’ at?”

Pushing off the wall, John stepped closer, “it’s all a game to him.” Lowering his voice to a near whisper. “Dutch uses people like pawns. You were once his prized pony, and now you’re the retired work horse. He’s gonna use her, same as the rest of us. Her skills, her intel—he’ll put her on the front lines. And she won’t back down, not if she thinks it’ll help get us out of this mess.”

Arthur’s mouth tightened, a wave of unease crashing over him. Before he could respond, Kate’s lullaby came to an end:

"When dividin' up the universe,You could have mine."

The door creaked softly as Kate stepped out, her eyes warm but tired. She smiled at the two men, sensing the tension but choosing not to pry. “G’night,” she murmured, disappearing into the room she shared with Arthur.

John tipped his hat, his gaze heavy with meaning. “You sure you want her out there?”

The question lingered like smoke in the dim hallway. Arthur didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The thought of Kate in harm’s way made his stomach twist, a visceral fear that would tear him apart at the seams.

With a final nod, John headed to his own room, leaving Arthur alone with his thoughts. For a long moment, Arthur stood in the silence, the weight of his brother’s words pressing down on him. Finally, he turned and slipped into his room.

In the darkness, Kate’s soft presence called to him like a lifeline. She was already lying down, her head resting on the pillow, but she shifted as he climbed in beside her. Without a word, Arthur wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her close. His face buried in her neck, and he exhaled deeply, the storm outside no match for the one inside him.

“Will ya sing that lullaby for me?” His voice was so quiet, she almost didn’t catch it over the wind.

Kate smiled softly, her hands roaming his back in slow, soothing circles. “Of course, my sweetness.”

Her voice rose again, carrying him into a moment of peace he didn’t deserve, but one he’d hold onto for as long as she’d let him.

AN: Alright, I know this chapter was a lot to take in—definitely dropped a few big reveals! I hope it wasn’t too overwhelming or gave anyone whiplash. I'm starting to transition the story into "phase 2," so things will be picking up pace from here. That means we’ll be skipping over some of the game missions to keep things moving and eventually work toward wrapping up the fic. The scope of this game is massive, and I’ve been going back and forth on which details and missions to include, all while trying to put my own spin on the story. That said, I hope this chapter has set the stage for some exciting new plot developments that you’ll enjoy!

I made a playlist too if anyone is interested! Spotify Playlist

As always, thank ya kindly for reading :)

[everypanelofizuku]

Chapter 50 - Kill 'Em Dead

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Fuck I hate being an adult. I need a more adult adult to help with the volatile emotional situation.

[goldengirlgalaxy]

Clark is completely oblivious to the fact that Danny and the death god the Justice League is looking for are the same person.

After crashing, Danny transforms back into a human, cutting off any trackable energy the JL could follow, thus leaving them confused as several members of the Justice League Dark work to figure out what happened and set up various sensors so they can track down this potential threat.

Clark, meanwhile, eventually makes his way back to the farm to meet the kid his parents have been talking about. Danny's a bit nervous about meeting someone new, but lets a few small things slip to Clark, namely that he has powers and he wasn't in the best of homes prior to being picked up by the Kent's.

Clark, more than a bit concerned for this child, keeps coming around to see him. He brings over the rest of his family so Danny can talk to people closer to his age.

Over time, Danny opens up more and more, explaining how he gained his powers from a lab accident, how he had to hide the fact he had them from his parents due to their beliefs and practices, how he was left to defend his city, maybe even his entire world, from various rogues to the point he was running on little sleep some nights and failing his classes. He talks about how many of the people he protected saw him as an enemy, and the government even put out laws to give themselves the right to experiment on him. He talks about fighting the Ghost King and taking his place after he pulled his entire town into another dimension. He talks about Dan and his fear of becoming him, that one small mistake could lead to him turning out for the worse. He talks about how he misses his family, but at the same time is relieved he doesn't have to sit through another presentation about how his parents plan to rip him apart molecule by molecule.

Clark talks too, eventually letting Danny know he's Superman. Explaining how he's had to learn to control his powers from a young age to make sure he never hurt anyone. Explaining how he became a paragon, and the standards everyone has held him to. How he's made mistakes, some with worse impacts than others. How he's let his enemies get the better of him. How he's hurt someone for being born. How he's seen his own dark future, where he lets 'the right thing' become something much more twisted. And how he's still doing his best to make up for all his faults, working with a team to make things better.

Eventually, Danny trusts Clark. And after keeping it hidden for so long, he shows him his ghost half. The two share a nice moment, taking a flight around the countryside, enjoying the stars, Danny sharing how he's always wanted to be an astronaut as Clark describes the other planets he's been to.

Of course, Danny turning into a ghost just so happened to trigger every alarm and scanner the Justice League and Justice League Dark set up. And they just so happen to track him down to the farm town of Smallville. Surely Superman can help them stop what must be an intergalactic threat hiding out in his hometown.

Dp x dc prompt

In a fight, skulker accidentally throws Danny through a natural portal, and now Danny is stuck at Pluto, what the hell you bony bastard?! So now he has to fly all the way back to earth and hope the satellites don’t pick him up, but it’s actually Hal Jordan who sees him, and when later telling the justice league about a glowing boy in space who doesn’t need to breath and definitely wasn’t a lantern, zatanna cuts him off to mention the urgent need of addressing the insane amounts of dead following what feels like an insanely powerful god of death that definitely wasn’t in this dimension the day before. Bats is obviously the first one to notice they’re talking about the same person.

Back with Danny, he can’t seem to find his way around the states with how tired that flight made him, so he crashed down onto a farm on accident, while two sweet parents see this glowing boy fall from the sky and decided yeah. Might as well have another.

Clark, meanwhile, has no clue that the god of death sending the league into chaos is the same kid his parents have been wanting him to meet back at the farm.

[cyberesc]

IN THE PALM OF HIS HAND.

pairing: Prohero!Bakugo x Prohero!Reader

synopsis: After every mission, Katsuki makes it a habit of checking you for injuries. It’s a routine that’s as comforting as it is embarrassing, especially when your friends start to get the wrong idea.

rating: fluff

The hum of the city buzzed in the background as you and the rest of your team made your way back to the agency. The mission had been a success—minimal collateral damage, civilians unharmed, and the villain apprehended. But the moment you stepped through the doors of the agency’s lobby, you knew what was coming.

Katsuki Bakugou, your ever-determined longtime friend, was already making his way toward you, his gaze sharp and focused. You barely had time to greet the others before Katsuki was in front of you, his eyes scanning you up and down like he was searching for something.

“Kats, I’m fine,” you started to say, but it was no use.

Without a word, his hands reached out and cupped your face, his palms warm and calloused against your skin. He tilted your head gently, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he examined you for any signs of injury.

It was the same routine every time you finished a mission. No matter how minor or major, Katsuki always insisted on checking you over himself, making sure you hadn’t gotten hurt in the line of duty. It was sweet, in his own way, but it was also… a little embarrassing, especially when it happened in front of your friends.

“Seriously, I’m okay,” you mumbled, your cheeks heating up under his intense scrutiny.

“Just shut up and let me look,” he muttered back, his voice low but firm.

You sighed, knowing it was pointless to argue. Katsuki was nothing if not thorough. His red eyes flicked over your face, lingering on a small scrape on your forehead that you’d barely noticed.

“This,” he said, brushing his thumb lightly over the scrape, “looks like it needs disinfecting.”

“It’s just a scratch,” you protested weakly, though the concern in his eyes made your heart skip a beat.

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied, his tone brooking no argument. “You’re getting it cleaned up.”

By now, you were well aware that the rest of your team was watching. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Kirishima grinning like an idiot, Mina whispering something to Kaminari, and Sero trying—and failing—to suppress his smirk.

They’d all gotten it into their heads that you and Katsuki were more than just friends. It wasn’t hard to see why, what with the way he was always looking out for you, always making sure you were okay, but the truth was… well, the truth was you wouldn’t mind if they were right.

But Katsuki had never said anything to make you think he saw you as anything more than a teammate and a friend. Sure, he was protective, and sure, he got in your personal space a lot, but that was just how Katsuki was. He cared about the people in his life, even if he had a funny way of showing it.

“There,” Katsuki finally said, letting go of your face with a satisfied nod. “No other injuries?”

“Nope, that was it,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “Good as new.”

“Hmph.” He gave you one last look, as if double-checking, before stepping back.

You exhaled in relief, glad to have your space back, even if you did miss the warmth of his hands. But before you could fully regain your composure, Mina was suddenly at your side, her arm slung around your shoulders as she grinned up at you.

“You two are just too cute,” she cooed, batting her eyelashes exaggeratedly. “Honestly, how long are you gonna keep us all in suspense?”

“Mina, come on,” you groaned, trying to brush her off, but she was relentless.

“What? It’s obvious! The way he looks at you, the way you let him fuss over you—” She glanced at Katsuki, who was glaring at her but not denying anything, “—you two are like a married couple already.”

“Shut it, Raccoon Eyes,” Katsuki snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. “Ain’t nobody asked for your commentary.”

“Oh, touche, touche,” Kaminari chimed in, winking at you. “C’mon, Y/N, you’ve got to admit, it’s kinda romantic.”

“Yeah,” Sero added with a grin. “You’ve got your very own knight in shining armor.”

You could feel your face heating up even more, and you shot a pleading look at Kirishima, hoping he might intervene. But Kirishima just laughed, clearly enjoying the show. “Hey, man, they’re not wrong! You two have some serious chemistry.”

Katsuki looked like he was about to explode, and you decided it was time to put an end to the teasing before it got out of hand. “Okay, okay, that’s enough!” you said, holding up your hands. “We’ve all had a long day, so let’s just… chill, alright?”

Mina pouted, but she finally relented, giving you a playful nudge. “Fine, fine. But don’t think you’re off the hook. We’re gonna keep an eye on you two.”

You rolled your eyes, grateful that the attention was finally off you, but when you glanced back at Katsuki, you found him staring at you, his expression unreadable.

You opened your mouth to say something—anything—to diffuse the tension, but Katsuki beat you to it.

“Next time, don’t get hurt,” he said, his voice gruff but soft enough that only you could hear. “Can’t stand seeing you like that.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, all you could do was nod. There was something in his eyes, something vulnerable that made your heart ache.

“I’ll try,” you managed to say, your voice a little shakier than you’d like.

“Good.” He nodded, satisfied, before turning on his heel and heading toward the locker rooms. But before he disappeared, he glanced back over his shoulder, his gaze locking with yours. “Get that scrape cleaned up.”

You watched him go, your mind a whirlwind of emotions, and it wasn’t until Mina nudged you again that you realized you were still staring.

“See what I mean?” she whispered, winking. “Totally smitten.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands, but the truth was, you didn’t mind as much as you pretended to. Because even if Katsuki’s habit of fussing over you was a little embarrassing, it was also the highlight of your day.

And maybe, just maybe, one day you’d find the courage to tell him how much those moments meant to you.

© property of cyberesc 2024. please refrain from plagiarizing any of my works and do not repost/copy onto any other sites.

[distantdarlings]

HESITATING // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.9K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* After a trip to Hogsmeade, you realize that Theo seems to get an awful lot of attention from girls. To avoid getting hurt, you start to distance yourself from him to rid yourself of your crush. But Theo is not having it. (Smut)

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! No protection - piv, praise kink, slight body worship, biting (one time), fem reader, language, one time skip, dom!Theo (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

more than friends - Isabel LaRosa

---

Your eyes found the clock on your bedside table. You were supposed to meet Theo in the Great Hall in ten minutes, yet you stood completely still in your dorm, switching back and forth between two outfits. It was a Saturday, and you didn’t have the usual crutch of your school uniform, hence the inability to decide. 

As the year progressed, the temperature dropped outside as well as within the castle. When chills were scattered across your arms in class, your teeth were almost clacking together. At the thought, a small shiver went through you.

You decided on a heavier sweater and jeans, noting that if you were cold in the warmth of your dorm, you’d likely be cold in the stone Great Hall. 

You slipped the outfit on, selecting a thick pair of socks and a ratty pair of shoes you’d had since fourth year. It wasn’t the most stunning style, but it was efficient and comfortable. Five minutes to go.

You slipped your wand into your back pocket and headed toward the hallway, slipping the dorm door closed behind you. Theo was likely already there with his group of friends, ones you liked to call friends, as well. The sons of big names around Hogwarts and the wizarding world, in general, though they were just boys to you. 

As you arrived at the grand doors of the Great Hall, the boys in question caught your eye and shot excited waves at you. While some of them had a bit more pride than others, they always seemed happy to see you. A smile broke across your face as you walked over to the Slytherin table, claiming the space between Theo and Mattheo. 

“Hello there, darling,” Theo purred in your ear when the group went back to their conversation. A twinge of heat flared in your chest. You hid a smile.

“Miss me?” You asked, voice low. He smiled. 

“Of course I did.” He threw a playful arm over your shoulder. Though it seemed to be a friendly gesture, it felt like a claim to you. A claim by him placed onto you, alerting all who you belonged to. It made you embarrassingly happy. 

“Any plans today, boys?” You asked. The group turned to you. 

“Actually, we were thinking of heading down to Hogsmeade for the day,” Mattheo said. “We were going to ask if you wanted to go with us?”

“I’d love to, as long as I’m not forcing myself on the group,” you said, only half-joking.

“Of course not,” said Enzo, a sweet smile on his face. “We love hanging out with you.”

“Yeah?” You teased. Mattheo rolled his eyes.

“You know we like you,” he joked, running a mean hand over your head, tousling your hair. You exclaimed and pushed his hand away, laughing along with the dark boy.

“We definitely do,” Theo laughed, pulling you tighter against him for a moment. 

“Well, alright,” You laughed. “Heading there now?”

“Yes!” Enzo clapped his hands together and stood, already headed toward the door. The rest of you laughed and made to follow him. 

“What about jackets? It’s cold out there!” You exclaimed, rubbing your hands over your arms.

“Ah, I’ve prepared for that,” Theo said, picking up two jackets that had been placed beside where he’d once sat. You hadn’t noticed them originally. 

He selected the smaller brown one and slipped it over your shoulder while he pushed his arms through the black one.

“Theo!” You exclaimed, running your hands over the nice corduroy material. “Where on earth did you get this? Whose is this?” 

“Yours, of course,” he laughed as the four of you exited the castle and headed down the cobblestone path to Hogsmeade.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“Call it an early Christmas gift,” he said, smiling smugly. 

“You can’t be serious!”

“Of course I am,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I saw it in one of the shops last weekend and thought of you.” 

If you weren’t the wiser, you’d have thought your heart had melted and poured down through your rib cage. A blush filled your cheeks and your stomach at the thought of Theo thinking of you and then buying something. 

“Thank you, Theo,” you sighed. He laughed and shrugged it off as if he hadn’t just made your whole week, if not your whole decade. 

The whole way down to Hogsmeade, your heart refused to let go of your brain. The pink filter that had been placed before your eyes glowed brightly. This little crush of yours seemed to have elevated a bit, but you’d never admit that, of course.

The group stopped before the Three Broomsticks, eager to slip into the cozy building’s warmth and order several rounds of Butterbeer. 

The four of you pushed through the door and selected a round booth near one of the back windows. Enzo and Mattheo headed to the front counter to order for the group. 

“Have you got any plans for the rest of the day?” Theo asked, naturally sliding his arm around the back of the booth behind you. 

“Well, if you’ll have me, I’d love to stick with the three of you,” you suggested.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he smiled, playfully tugging on a piece of your hair. He was hoping you’d say that? 

“Here we are!” Enzo cheered, placing two pints of Butterbeer on the table before the two of you. Mattheo was close behind him, carrying two for the both of them. They slid into the booth beside Theo, with you and Mattheo on the ends and Theo and Enzo between you. It felt comfortable.

Between each of your smiles, all with different personalities, you’d found a very safe space to stay. Every moment with these people made up a memory you knew you’d remember until you could no longer. Nothing could have ruined this evening.

“Oh, my God!” A loud voice said, drawing the syllables out. The four of you turned to look at the unfamiliar face standing before your table. “Teddy? Is that you?”

“Teddy?” You asked, wrinkling your nose at the nickname. 

“Holy shit. Laverna!” Theo laughed. “How long has it been?” 

“A while! I’ve just been visiting recently and thought I’d stop by Hogsmeade after not having seen it for so long.” 

The girl standing before your table was incredibly gorgeous, with flowing platinum hair that reached the bottom of her spine and shocking blue eyes. Her skin appeared flawless and luminescent beneath the comforting lights within the restaurant. A fire of jealousy broiled in your chest. 

“Guys, this is Laverna,” Theo introduced her. “We were pretty close before her family moved to France, and she transferred to Beauxbatons.” 

“That’s me!” she giggled. It sounded like she even had a hint of a French accent. You struggled not to roll your eyes. 

“I was just going to get a drink. Do you want to catch up a bit?” she asked.

Theo ushered Mattheo and Enzo out of the booth. A bit confused, they got to their feet and allowed the boy next to them to slide out and give a hug to the beautiful woman. You sipped your Butterbeer. 

The other two boys sat back down and glanced up at you in scattered patterns. You ignored their eyes. You were pretty sure they knew about your little crush. Scratch that. They definitely knew. 

Over your shoulder, you could hear the two of them laughing and carrying on. You attempted to ignore the burning in your cheeks. Mattheo and Enzo nursed their drinks, fidgeting randomly. 

A few moments of randomized chatting passed before Theo finally came back, a poignant smile still painted over his lips. You looked away from him. 

“Sorry about that,” he laughed, scooting in next to Mattheo. You tried not to think about the fact that he didn’t sit next to you. You were being dramatic. 

“Alright, where to next?” He asked. The four of you discussed what to do with the rest of your day with random store names circling about. The final agreement was to head over to Honeydukes to enjoy some of their Christmas sales, and so Enzo could stock the small jar that sat beneath his bed. He tended to snack throughout the night as he was tending to assignments, refusing sleep. 

You gathered together and made your way through the small town, window-shopping here and there. Every time you pouted over Theo’s seemingly obvious interest in the gorgeous girl, you remembered the jacket currently around you. Theo cared about you. Was it the way you wanted him to? You weren’t sure. 

Once inside the colorful store, the four of you split and wandered your separate ways, each looking for different sweets. You always headed right toward the chocolate frogs, eager to extend your vast collection of cards. Perhaps it was a bit childish, but who cared? It was a fun hobby. 

You stopped before the rack piled high with the blue boxes and stared. You tried to guess which one would have a card you’d never gotten before, conjuring up every ounce of intuition you had.

With another second of thought, you chose the one sitting on the shelf directly in front of your face. You were excited to open it with Theo; he always loved to see you add to your collection. 

You turned the box over in your hands, examining the packaging. Out of the corner of your eye, a flash of red caught your attention. You turn to the left and notice Theo laughing aloud, talking with that same girl, Laverna, and another girl. A dark-haired goddess with blushed cheeks and a perfect figure. Fuck’s sake. 

The urge to crush the chocolate box in your hand flashed through your mind. You rolled your eyes and headed further into the store, trying to put distance between the two of you.

Mattheo was standing against a wall, browsing a rack of magazines, occasionally picking one to flip through. You stopped before him, leaning up against the same wall. 

“Pouting, are you?” He asks, not looking up from the magazine in his hands. You scoff.

“No, I’m not…I’m just…,” you sigh and close your eyes.

“Just in love?” He asked, glancing up at you with a smirk. 

“Fuck off,” you groaned. Was it that obvious? Maybe it was. You didn’t know. An exhausted sigh left your lips.

Uproarious laughter sounded from the corner. You recognized one of the laughs as Theo’s. The others belonged to women. That was it.

“Okay, I’m heading back to the castle,” you said, throwing your hands up. “Tell Theo I wasn’t feeling well or something.”

“What? Are you sure?” Mattheo asked, finally dropping the magazine. “We still want you here with us.” 

“It’s okay, I’m just tired,” you said. “I think I’ll just head back for a nap until dinner.” And with that, you paid for your candy and headed back to the castle. 

xxx 

Over the next week, you made an unintentional decision to skip meals with the group. You weren’t trying to avoid them—or maybe you were—but you found yourself wanting to be alone more and more the past few days. 

The thought of having to see Theo after Saturday, when he had the attention of half the girls in Hogsmeade, made you want to vomit. Perhaps it was jealousy pushing you away, but it was your anxiety keeping you there. Every time you thought of heading back to eat with the group, you reminded yourself that Theo hadn’t tried to reach out since you’d stopped seeing them. If he wanted to, he would, right?

With your decision to keep away from the boys for a while, you’d taken to eating in your dorm over your lunch break. Nobody else was ever in there, and it was kind of comfortable, to be honest. You would nibble on your meal and read, or draw, or whatever came to mind, and it was nice and quiet. 

You set your book on your bed and gathered the little meal you’d prepared for yourself. Pulling the covers back, you settled in and grabbed your novel. This was absolutely lovely after a busy morning.

Just as you’d begun to settle yourself into the routine you’d started the previous week, two shouts of your name shot through the air. Before the disappointment and onset of anxiety came shock. Was that Theo?

Rapid steps grew closer and closer until the dormitory door echoed a gentle knock as if the person behind it had slowed down just as they’d arrived. 

“Um…who is it?” You asked awkwardly.

“Baby, it’s Theo,” a breathless voice came from behind the door. “Please open the door. Please. I need to talk to you.”

Baby? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? The shocked mantra rushed through your head as you shakily ripped your comforter away, ignoring your food and book. 

You slowly pulled the door open, seeing a nervous Theo. His eyes were shot with blushed red, and his lips were swollen. Had he been crying?

“Theo, what—?”

“Please, can I come in?” he asked. His breath exited his body in short, rough pants. You nodded wide-eyed and moved out of the way. He pushed into the room, walking to the center of the room. His hands pushed through his hair repeatedly.

You pushed the door closed and pushed the lock. When you turned, he did the same, eyes on yours. His eyebrows were furrowed together, desperation painted on his face. His lips were parted, his eyes wanting. 

“What is it—?”

“You have to tell me what I’ve done,” he begged. “I feel like I’m going crazy.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean! Where have you been? You’ve been gone for days; the boys say you’re mad at me, that you might not come back—what the fuck are they talking about?” he demands, his eyes wide. 

Your lips parted stupidly. No words came, no matter how hard you searched for them. The only thought that could process within your brain was how you were gonna kill Enzo and Mattheo for saying such stupid things to him. If anything, they were likely trying to get him to come and talk to you—which, it seems, has worked.

“Theo,” you cave, “it’s not that I wasn’t returning or mad at you…I was…” You could barely get the words out. He watched you with intent and pressure. It felt as though you were about to suffocate.

“What? Please tell me. What’s wrong?” He begged, his voice cracking. He moved toward you, his hands raising to touch you, then hesitating and dropping. A line of shimmering tears pool within his eyes, and the pure shock of seeing Theo about to cry had your lips parting again. 

“I was…,” you groan, “…jealous.” You practically whispered the last part.

“Wait, what?” He gasped, his eyes widening even further.

“Theo, please don’t make me repeat it,” you sighed, pressing your hands to your face. “I’m embarrassed as is, I was jealous of those girls from last Saturday. I felt like every time I saw you, you were making another girl laugh, and they were all fucking perfect, of course, and I-I like you so much, Theo—”

His hands pressed to either side of your face, his fingers tight and warm. His eyes were widened, his breaths heavy. 

“No more,” he breathed, “please, tell me to stop, and I will, but I have to…” 

His lips pressed roughly to yours, his breath more like pants. He kissed you like you were air, his lips desperate and biting. The sound he pressed against your mouth was like one of relief. You gasped against him, finally realizing where you truly were and what was happening. Your fingers tightened in his hair, begging him closer to you. 

“I n-need you,” he shivered against your lips, breath shuddering. You nodded fervently, barely having time to wrap your arms around his neck as his hands placed themselves around your thighs. He yanked you into the air and placed himself on your bed, settling you over his lap. The way he’d forced you to straddle him pressed his firming core against yours, sending a shock of excitement through your body. 

His fingers began to quickly work the buttons of your shirt apart. When the fabric was finally split down the middle, he pressed his mouth to the top of your breasts, mouthing hot kisses against the soft flesh there. You sighed softly, letting your head fall back to allow him all the necessary room. 

“Wanted you for so long,” he mumbles against you. Your fingers brush through his curled hair, gently scraping against his scalp every so often. The feeling of his lips against you made your heart race to the point of beating against his tongue. 

Much to your dismay, he pulled away and shoved you back. You fell against the foot of the bed, completely helpless as he climbed over you. The domineering air he carried with him spread over your body, rendering it pliant beneath his searing touch. 

His fingers gently cradled your hips as he worked his mouth over your stomach, dipping his tongue across every curve and dip, savoring the taste of sweat that slid down your skin. As his lips heated your skin, the shaking breaths he blew through his nose cooled it down and had you reeling. The ceiling above you was all but spinning. 

He followed the curve of your body all the way up to your mouth, allowing his tongue to learn every inch of your abdomen. When his lips found yours again, the both of you were panting. The only thing standing between the two of you was your uniforms.

With a burst of confidence thanks to his session of worship, you gently cradled him in your hands, applying slight pressure against his most sensitive area. At the touch, he choked against you, sucking in a rough breath.

“Please,” he moaned. “Let me fuck you. I'll do anything.” He whispered your name. Over and over and over. Begging and begging. 

“Anything?” You smirked, watching as his eyes seemed to well up with the same liquid. He nodded quickly.

“I want you to do whatever you want to me,” you whispered. And if it wasn’t like giving someone a million bucks. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, a wave of relief washing across his face. The obvious desire written across his face and actions had you feeling wanted and gorgeous. The confidence built by the second.

His fingers quickly found the hem of your skirt and pushed it up over your thighs. At the sight of the thin bottoms you had on, a slow moan pushed itself between his lips. “Fuck,” he whispered.

His thumb came down to slowly swipe down the center of your core through your bottoms. You jolted at the soft action, not prepared for it. A smile spread over his face.

He gently pushed the fabric to the side, reveling in the feeling of the white lace against his fingertips. Once he’d revealed you, an even louder moan escaped from him. Only a moment passed before he pressed two fingers to his lips, coating them with a thick layer of saliva. He pulled them from his lips and began to lather you in himself. 

Your lips parted in a breathy whine at the feeling. His fingers were gentle but direct, only brushing the most sensitive spots before slowly filling you up to the hilt of his fingers. 

“Fuck, you just opened right up for me,” he groaned. His words sent shocks of lightning through your stomach. His skilled fingers stretched you out perfectly, preparing you for what was to come. The want in his eyes was growing darker and darker, imagining the next few minutes. It was all too much; you couldn’t wait any longer.

“Please, Theo, just fuck me,” you whined, “no more.”

“Yeah, baby? I’m gonna fuck you, don’t worry about that,” he whispered. “‘ve been dreaming about this cunt for months.” He makes quick work of his trousers, roughly ripping the clinking belt from its loops. He separates the button and pushes them down, revealing the dark briefs that framed every muscular curve. 

He separated your legs and placed himself neatly between them. His hands reached down to agonizingly trace himself up and down your core. You moaned at the feeling, bucking your hips against his warmth. You attempted to salvage any of his warmth, begging for the feeling of him within you. 

When he finally pushed himself into you, there was no resistance. The sounds that left your mouth chorused each other, echoing across the dorm room. He gave only a few seconds for you to adjust before building his pace rapidly. The pure length of him hit everything within you with ease. This time, there were tears welling up in your eyes as he abused every inch of you. 

Sweet nothings left his mouth as he pushed roughly into you. His strong hips showed no weakness, and the hands that gripped you branded bruises against your flesh. Every second of this moment would visit you for years to come, promising you’d never find someone like Theo. He was the body made to fit perfectly against yours, with the intent to love and please and hold. And, fuck, if he wasn’t doing exactly that. 

As he worked you closer and closer to the end, he reached down and pulled you quickly against his chest. Out of habit, your arms wrapped around his neck. Despite the change in position, he never let up on his speed or brutality. The only thing you could feel was his strong hands bouncing you up and down him. His teeth pressed into your neck, piercing the soft flesh there. And that was what did it for you. 

You finished around him hard and heavy, your limbs becoming pathetically weak. As you came down from your high, you could barely keep your hold around him. His arms tightened around you, holding you up as he fucked himself into you, harder and harder, until he was coming, too. The feeling of his release pouring within you and every thrust he performed to push it back within you pulled you out for the final moment. 

Stars danced around your head as he finally set you back down against the bed, his touch so gentle in comparison to what he had done prior. The contrast of his touch against you as he pushed the wet hair clinging to your forehead was blinding. You sighed contently as he lay next to you, eyes watching you closely.

“I’m sorry I was so emotional,” he whispered. “I thought I was going to lose you forever…before I’d even had the chance to tell you what kind of feelings I was harboring.”

“What kind of feelings?” you whispered back, turning over to face him.

“That I’m completely in love with you and have been for a long time.” Your heart swelled at the confession. Quiet giggles spilled from your mouths at the realization of what he was saying.

“I’m in love with you too, Theo,” you laughed. “That’s why I was so jealous.”

“Because I’m so sexy?” he teased. You rolled your eyes and placed a playful smack on his arm.

The moments that followed were filled with quiet laughs and sweet kisses. And before either of you had noticed, you’d both drifted off against each other. Afternoon classes were a lost cause, as was the hope of meeting back up with Mattheo and Enzo for dinner, but neither of you minded. 

*Tag List: @lilymurphy03 (if you want to be added to the tag list for any future works, please send me a dm or message in my inbox, thanks!)*

[svtswhorehouse]

DATING SEUNGCHEOL INCLUDES…. — sfw

• sugar daddy or boyfriend? (the answer is both.)

• the definition of a REAL MAN. no one has ever treated you with as much respect or given you as much love as seungcheol has.

• you're his pretty little passenger princess and he's your personal chauffeur.

• mom and dad of the group, duhhhh.

• he would drop anything and everything just to give you his undivided attention, no matter how important it is.

• yes. he would still love you if you were a worm.

• he would definitely give you his bank card without a second thought. it would also be linked to your phone, he insists on you using it always and would throw a fit when you don't.

• you would also give him your card at times and he always takes it without a fight, but would never use it.

• would take you out on dates in which you can dress up pretty and maybe dine at a fancy and EXPENSIVE restaurant. don't be fooled though. he also pays attention to the little things so if you're into books, he's taking you to a library themed restaurant. if you like animals, he's booking a ticket to orlando and ya'll are going to the rainforest cafe or something.

• you would never have to lift a finger ever again.

• he would wash your car, fill it up with gas, and take it to go get serviced without any complaints.

• he would burn down the world for you.

• he always puts you first. if he had to pick between you or the company (if they ever made him choose) he doesn't even need to think, it would be you every time.

• also your body guard ! any social gathering ya'll attend, he always has his eyes on you no matter how far away you are from him.

• times in which you do drive yourself, ya'll are definitely the type of couple to have life 360 on each other. he would text you saying to slow the fuck down if you're speeding.

• no matter how much you insist he goes to sleep and no matter how late you're getting home — it could be 4 in the morning, he will ALWAYS wait up for you.

• he has the habit of buying you anything you even slightly mention. he also pays close attention to the things you look at when out shopping together and they would show up delivered to your apartment the next day. he would take the heat from you, but still would continue to spend his money on you.

• when you have a bad day, he is already there with open arms ready to give you the biggest bear hug and shield you from the rest of the world.

• whenever you two go out together, he always has a hand on your back to guide you through crowds or just so everyone knows that you're off limits.

• if you ever lose during game nights with friends or really anywhere, he would do the penalties for you!

• he always makes sure you're on the inside when walking near a street.

• if you ever doubt yourself or feel insecure, prepare for a long serious conversation with lots of tears because he WILL NOT be having any of that. no. not when he thinks you're one of the most beautiful, talented, and honorable people he knows.

• you have never felt so safe and secure than when he's around.

• he will constantly be saying "i love you." definitely the type to call you back immediately if you forget to say it and hang up.

• he has a personal agenda out for revenge against anyone who hurts or disrespects you in any type of way.

• he will be your designated driver for not only you BUT your friends as well during girl's night out.

• he may be competitive, but when it comes to you, he would let you win just so he can see a smile on your face.

• says he CAN'T (won't because he's stubborn) fall asleep if he's not cuddling you.

• he becomes the softest most kindhearted person in the world when it comes to you.

• he gets jealous easily, but he trusts you with his whole heart so he doesn't dwell on it for too long.

• when it comes to arguing, no matter if he was in the right or wrong, he is always the first to apologize. definitely the type to get you chocolate, flowers, and ALWAYS gets you a teddy bear after.

• would make you sit on his back when doing pushups or would give you a piggy back ride when he is doing pull-ups !

• he LOVES when you wear his clothes. you would always find his shirts or hoodies on your side of the closet and be like "hmm, how did this get here?" ask your boyfriend.

• rarely ever calls you by your name. always calls you baby or something cute. he also insists that you don't call him seungcheol. he will pout if you do.

• definitely impressed your parents right off the bat. your family absolutely adores him and your parents treat him like a son.

• he would tease you by giving you a hug when he's all sweaty after practice.

• he INSISTS on picking you up EVERYDAY after work.

[miharuki]

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖁𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖃 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 (𝕱𝖊𝖒) 2

You woke up with a headache, feeling your head throb painfully. For a moment, you really thought you were in your real-life home until you looked up and saw the bed canopy, adorned with fine, luxurious fabrics. A typical bed of ancient nobility, you couldn't even sit up without your head pounding from the pain. Who would have thought that crying so much could make you feel this bad?

In pain, you turned, now looking out of the bed. For a moment, you began to notice that the furnishings in the room were more refined, even though they were of a different color. You started to think that this room wasn't, in fact, yours. Looking at the door, you noticed the luxurious details that accompanied it, making you realize that you were neither in your real-life bedroom nor in your noble bedroom in this world.

You started to think a lot, which made your head hurt even more. But you finally managed to understand what happened last night and how you agreed to go with the young man. Now, finally turning to look at the ceiling, you sighed, knowing you were probably not in extreme danger and that being kidnapped was off the list since you had agreed to the situation.

Placing your hands on your face, you thought about the situation at the ball, now considering how your family in this world would probably disown you. What initially seemed like a simple matter turned out to be much worse. In this world, being disowned didn't just mean being removed from the family's inheritance; it meant being officially regarded as not part of the family at all. It was as if they erased you not only from their will but also from their lives. In more extreme cases, it could even mean being expelled from the house.

"Are you alright? You were quite warm last night; you had a fever," said a familiar voice. Turning, you confirmed it was the same young man from yesterday.

Forcing your aching body, you managed to sit up in bed, placing a hand on your forehead as the dizziness from the headache set in. "Yes, it's nothing serious. I apologize for my manners," you said. It was evident that simply lying in a bed that wasn't yours while the host stood by was considered almost impolite in this world.

"Liar… please, miss, don't push yourself too hard. You still seem unwell," the young man said, his voice calm and concerned. If you could look now, you would see the care and worry in his eyes.

"I've been sick many times before," you found yourself thinking, almost mocking your own situation. The boy seemed to sense your sadness and silence. He raised his hand and gently placed it on your shoulder.

He had already felt he was violating your space by touching you the night before, but the pain of seeing your sick body had pushed that feeling aside. Now, with you safe, he felt he needed your permission, but he couldn't help trying to comfort you, the same person who seemed broken and exhausted when he brought you here.

"Forgive me… you went to the trouble of bringing me to your home because of my actions. This is not appropriate behavior for a girl like me. I apologize profusely for invading your residence like this," you said, lowering your hands to your lap and bowing your head in a formal gesture of apology, even while lying in bed.

Nomura noticed that you referred to yourself merely as a girl, not as a lady, which would have been more appropriate. He understood that what happened yesterday had deeply wounded you, so much so that you began to see yourself as inferior, no longer worthy of being called a lady.

His free hand clenched into a fist as he thought about the castle and the ball from last night. He knew who was responsible for this, and he couldn't help but feel anger. At that moment, all he wanted was to drive a sword through the heart of the crown prince, the first prince, and especially his former best friend.

"Please do not apologize, miss. The events of last night were not your fault, and bringing you to my residence was my decision. I had every right to do so, especially when I saw you in such a vulnerable state," he said in a sweet and gentle tone. You turned your head to look at him, observing those kind eyes that looked at you as they had last night. But just making that movement caused your head to throb again, and you placed a hand on your head, wincing in pain. This made him place his hands on your back, gently guiding you to lie down on the bed.

"Please, miss, you are not in the best condition. Lie down and rest. I will accept nothing but your rest," he insisted. With your eyes squeezed shut from the pain, you allowed yourself to lie back down, sighing as you felt his touch slowly fade away.

Nomura watched as you complied, stepping back slowly. He looked at you with sadness before leaving the room. As he walked down the corridor towards his office, he couldn't help but look at the floor, feeling nothing but anger. Calmly, he entered his office and closed the door behind him. His teeth clenched in fury, and only one thought filled his mind: "I want to kill him!" Finally, he sighed, running his hands through his hair before sitting in his chair and looking up at the ceiling.

"Even after countless times, or timelines, you remain the same Prince Luka."

"Miss? Your tea." An maid entered the room with a cart carrying a teapot and a white porcelain cup. She sat down on the bed, and you were beginning to feel a bit better. Before you could say anything, the maid delicately placed a tray on your lap and set the cup on it.

You pondered for a moment. You couldn't stay here forever, even if your parents had disowned you. Eventually, you would have to return home just to gather your belongings, assuming your country in this game had indeed expelled you. If so, you needed to plan where to stay, especially since the Diamond Wars were looming.

"But what stage of the game are we in now? I mean, why should I worry? She's the protagonist and a princess, not me. She can handle things on her own," you thought to yourself as you glanced down at your lap. Your head still ached, but it was less intense compared to when you first arrived at the lord's house.

"Miss?" the maid's voice called out, and you lifted your head to look at her. She was pointing to the cup of tea. "Your tea, if you don't drink it, it will get cold." You turned your head, picked up the cup, and murmured a thank you before taking a sip. Lowering the cup, you continued to stare down, then glanced back at your lap.

"If I may ask, do you know of a good area where there might be houses? Preferably in the countryside," you asked calmly, surprising the maid with the sudden question.

"With all due respect, ma'am, why do you ask?"

"I need to find a place before I'm kicked out of home all because the protagonist is a little princess with her harem on her side, not to mention they humiliated me and literally labeled me a liar in front of high-status people and people from other regions," you thought of saying, but bit your tongue and shook your head. "Forget about what I asked," you said, looking down at the empty cup in your hands.

A few minutes of silence passed before the maid carefully took the cup and bowed respectfully before leaving with the cart.

"It's what she said," the maid recounted the situation to the man in front of her, who could only look thoughtfully out the window. "Poor Lady," Nomura thought, watching from the window as the carriage took you back to your home.

"I apologize, my lord, but do you think Lady might be considering moving away?" The thought of you being away from him was making him nervous.

"I need you to deliver a letter for me…"

pt1

"I'll possibly do Part 3."

@aiimee9 @chlov @uhkaey @notleclerc @taylorazureeee @sassykitkat22 @zuumaa @mononlogue @party-9 @endaculi @heartless-tate @mel-vaz @poptrim @kitty-chan33 @surprisemodafakas @reni502 @slowlysweetnightmare @hotnbloodied @yandereoverlord @mel-star636 @aphrodit333 @hotvinimon  @cupidsgift @bien-bonjour14 @l0v3rrl @heraxochi @yamekocatt @lovorette @acenby-weirdo @kisalovesoobin @wutap @ron000 @lazydelusionsimp @kthehoeforfictionalmen @forbidden-sunlight @bubbles2416 @rosegracewood09 @b2mmyy

@julietdelamare @snowlotr @kitkatmochi @happydeertraveler @lem-hhn @crazytacokoala @mitzukichan18 @hey-im-bored504 @resident-cryptid @thefbiiswatching @beardedblizzardexpert @mymemd @smilefortae @emperatris-rinaka

@pinkrose1422

[crushpunky]

drew and actress!reader on the kitten interview

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

this was highly requested, hope you enjoy <3

“Not sure how I got the short end of the stick with these three.” Y/n teased as she crossed her legs in front of her, joining Chase, Rudy, and Drew on the floor of the interview space. Cameras and crew surrounded them, a small makeshift barrier of boxes dividing them from where the cast sat on the floor.

“Ouch.” Rudy said, placing his hand over his heart in faux hurt. Drew grinned, leaning back on his hands, his fingers resting closely to the curve of y/n’s back.

“Are we ready for the kittens?” One of the producers asked.

“Bring in the cats!” The four of them cheered, clapping excitedly as one of the crew members entered the space, kittens in hands. Y/n put her hands over her mouth, squealing quietly as they placed the tiny creatures down in front of them.

“How long until y/n starts crying?” Chase said, as they continued to watch the kittens stumbled along the ground.

“She already cried on the drive here so…” Drew said, causing y/n to elbow him before returning her attention to the cats. A small gray kitten waddled over, climbing its way into y/n’s lap, its paws padding along her legs softly. The four of them talked sweetly to the kittens as they continued to play, climb, and run along the set.

Who in the Outer Banks cast consistently makes you break character?

“Oh JD,” Rudy said, moving to lay on his back as a small orange kitten rested politely in his lap.

“Yeah…” Drew watched one of the kittens crawl along his arm. “Or Nick Cirillo.”

“Agreed, agreed,” Chase said. “Y/n?”

“Hmm?” Y/n asked, clearly still entranced by the gray kitten playing with the sleeve of her shirt. The boys broke into laughter, causing y/n to groan. Of course she knew it was going to be difficult to answer questions with the smallest, cutest creatures alive in front of her, but she at least thought she’d be able to answer one question.

“I’m sorrryyy!” Y/n laughed. “Um, I think I’d have to say JD or Drew.”

“Me?” Drew asked with a quirk of his head.

“Yes! It’s just so weird to see you acting like… for lack of better words, a crazy person.” Y/n grinned, her nails scratching the scruff of the gray kitten’s neck.

What’s your favorite behind-the-scenes memory from filming Season 4?

“Oh, probably when Drew dropped me on my ass.” Y/n said, causing Rudy and Chase to laugh at the memory and Drew to shake his head emphatically. They had been filming a scene where Rafe picked up y/n’s character, carrying her over to the couch, however, Drew had miscalculated and dropped y/n straight on the hardwood floor. He had felt so awful, stressing as a pretty gnarly bruise began to form along her back over the week.

“I’m sorry! It was an accident.” Drew groaned, running his fingers through his grown out buzz cut.

“I know, I’m just kidding, baby.” Y/n cooed, pressing a kiss to Drew’s cheek.

If you could create a playlist for your characters, what songs would be on it?

“Do you guys have playlists?” Drew asked, looking between his co-stars. 

“Oh yeah,” Rudy said, patting the head of the kitten sleeping soundly on his stomach.

“I’ve got like a lot of… dark stuff.” Drew chuckled, glancing over at y/n, who was entranced with the gray cat that was still lying politely in her lap. Drew noticed the sparkle in her eye as she tickled the cat playfully, the kitten letting out a small meow.

“Um, a lot of Taylor Swift, of course… some Fleetwood Mac.” Y/n answered, attention still on her new furry friend.

“I think you’ve got a new family member, Starkey.” Chase teased, pointing at the furball in y/n’s lap.

“Oh, yeah, I think Charleston needs a little kitten friend.” Y/n said, blinking her eyes at Drew playfully. Drew said nothing, just grinning and chuckling lightly.

What’s your biggest ick?

“If you don’t like animals.” Rudy said, y/n pointing at him with a nod. At her movement, the small gray cat in her lap leaped off her knee, landing on Drew’s stomach. The kitten crawled up before flopping down on his chest, wide eyes peering up at Drew. Y/n squealed, watching the little cat having a staring contest with big old Starkey.

“I’d say, um, being rude to service people. That’s a big ick.” Drew whispered, his hand moving to rest next to the kitten’s paws.

“I would say hating on people for liking things,” y/n said, scratching the gray cat’s head. “Like, let people like things. Who cares.”

“Yeah, I agree.” Chase said.

If Outer Banks could crossover with any tv show, which show would you choose?

“Seinfeld?” Rudy laughed, the orange cat resting on his lap stirring slightly as his stomach moved as he chuckled.

“I’ve been digging Rings of Powers lately. I think it would be kinda cool to be in Middle Earth.” Drew answered, sitting up slowly, the cat sliding to rest in his arms.

“Alright, nerd.” Chase teased, causing y/n to giggle and Drew to roll his eyes at the jab. Contrary to what his very frat boy-esque exterior may give off, Drew was a nerd at heart, more than okay with spending the night reading Harry Potter or watching Lord of the Rings.

“I’m gonna say, and I think JD and Austin would agree with me, It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.” Y/n said, the boys humming in agreement.

“I feel like JJ would really get along with the Gang.” Rudy said.

Who was your celebrity crush growing up?

“Robin Williams. I had a huge crush on him growing up.” Rudy answered, petting the kitten in his lap softly. The gray kitten resting in Drew’s arm began to climb up his shirtsleeve, balancing on his forearm as Drew lifted it higher.

“Padme and Anakin in Attack of the Clones were… life changing.” Y/n said, watching the kitten walking carefully across Drew’s arm. One of the kitten’s paws slipped off, causing the kitten to fall and y/n to let out a small yelp. Drew was able to catch the cat’s small body before it fell too far, the cast letting our relieved sighs.

“You saved him.” Chase gasped, Drew lifting to hold the kitten against his chest, a sweet smile on his face. Y/n cooed at the way the kitten rested in Drew’s large hands, resting her head on Drew’s shoulder as the two of them looked down at the cat.

“Hmm,” Drew hummed quietly, “maybe Charleston does need a little friend.”

Y/n grinned, pressing a kiss to Drew’s cheek before squealing excitedly. Y/n turned to Chase, shaking his shoulders excitedly as Chase joined in on her excited squeals.

“Thank you Buzzfeed!” Rudy said, elbowing Drew playfully.

“Yes, thank you Buzzfeed!” Y/n joined, thanking the crew for their new furry friend.