#i wish i could let people in without letting them see inside my bedside drawer

[dandylion-s]

They have to invent a type of intimacy that doesn't involve being vulnerable or feeling like you're naked to the point of taking your skin off

[amillixnvoicesarch]

baby·:

   “I WISH you’d told me sooner. But it is what it is. I’ll give the doctor a call. She lives close, so it shouldn’t take her too long to get here. We’ll have that hand fixed up in no time.” How long had Alex been waiting for him to arrive? If he’d known sooner, the doctor would already be here by now and Alex would be seen to. He got his phone from his pocket, sending a message to the doctor and letting her know this was personal, but not for him. She replied almost instantly, saying she was on her way. Fortunately, things would be kept SECRET, so Alex wouldn’t have to worry about this information being out to the public.

   Seeing Alex cry pretty much breaks him. Henry started forward, his hands cupping his face so that he could wipe away the tears, thumbs gentle with his touch. “Alexander, sweetheart. It’s none of their business. But me … I’m sorry I’ve doubted things so much.” The truth of the matter was, he was often worried that Alex was going to leave, even before all of this mess. He knew that was the depression talking though, not that he planned on telling him that anytime soon. He was going to be honest about the rest though. “You had your whole life planned out. I was worried you’d leave because you never expected any of this and I couldn’t ask it of you if it’s not what you want. It doesn’t mean I want you to go. Most certainly not. I love you, Alexander Claremont-Diaz. And I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

   His heart warmed some at Alex’s words, but he ended up stepping a little closer to press a kiss to his forehead. “If it says anything, I’d been planning on proposing to you soon, BEFORE all of this mess happened.” He already had the ring and everything. It was tucked away discreetly in his bedside drawer table, he’d brought it with him just in case and thank god he did. “I love you. The love I feel for you, it scares me sometimes, I never knew I could feel this way about someone. But then you stepped into my life and changed my perspective on everything.”

   Henry dropped his hands from Alex’s face to take him into his arms, careful of going near his hand as he did so. “Our life isn’t a PR stunt. I would have you regardless of what my family think about it, of what the nation thinks about it. You ARE my nation, Alex.”

There’s TOO MANY emotions at once, and Alex isn’t sure he can handle them all. He’s always been emotional when it comes to personal matters, and even though he can put on a mask and pretend he’s alright, he knows he’s always going to crumble the moment Henry touches him. It’s so soft and filled with love that he can’t help more tears spilling over and onto his cheeks, wondering how long he’s actually been sitting here, trying to push everything down.

“I didn’t want to blame you.” He sniffles, leaning into the touch. “I mean...I don’t blame you for worrying.” It’s a lot, it has been even before Henry became king, and Alex isn’t above admitting he’d panicked, but thinking back NOW it seems stupid. Sure, this is going to take a hell of a lot of organizing and planning, but his love for Henry? That had NEVER been in doubt. “I just...I know you can’t see inside my head, but if you did then you would have known that I love you so fucking much that even contemplating leaving you had never crossed my mind. It physically HURTS me to be away from you...”

And he knows it’s his fault too, for not being able to say that out loud enough, but he’d been trying to protect Henry and had, in turn, somehow made it worse. His own arms wrap around the other man, holding him tightly, as if he never wants to let go. And Alex doesn’t. He closes his eyes and takes in the familiar warmth of Henry. HIS Henry. He thinks back to what he’s told him once, We can figure out a way to love each other, on our own terms. And that’s it, isn’t it? The people they are right now, in this room, are the people that matter, not the personas people out there get to see.

“Wait, you were gonna PROPOSE to me?” He asks, blinking as he pulls back, but doesn’t really give Henry the time to respond before pulling him in for a kiss. “God, I love you so fucking much.”

[chemicalpink]

Tied Desires ♡ Kim Taehyung x Reader

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x female reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: smut (at this point, do i ever write something else?) 

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: rope bunny, soft bdsm dynamic, brat reader, a bit of findom in there, soft dom tae

A/N: this was- a wild ride. A humongous thanks to @erotikkook for coming up with the name and the banner (support Cay’s work or else) AND to the amazing people that beta this @taegularities and @sugasbabiie​ you guys are amazing, I’m sorry you had to see first hand that I write my stuff without punctuation, my mother has always held that against me. Side note, I’m behind in like 20+ assignments from law school and I decided to prioritise this fic. Don’t do that kids.

Summary: Perhaps teasing Taehyung back could get you in deep trouble. It’s not like it wasn’t exactly what you were wishing for tho.

There had always been something so cathartic and almost therapeutic about the arrangement you had with Taehyung; while most of your relationship consisted of sweet glances, funny selcas on social media and the occasional brunch date being photographed to the public eye, the dynamic was turned upside down behind closed doors, lights barely on, the warmth that was brought upon your bodies as you feverishly made out as soon as the entrance door was closed. It was, of course, such a weird occurrence as Taehyung’s job kept piling up. However, lately, his usual playful teasing had turned into full bedroom eyes whenever there was a camera directed at him, the same bedroom eyes and attitude that had been reserved only for you to see for so long; of course something was bound to go down with it.

“Would you like us to get those inside your car?” the lady at the register said as you made sure to place the credit card back into your purse that Taehyung had given you once as an extension to his..

You smiled and nodded at her, stealing a quick glance at the dozen boxes that were scattered around the lobby of the store, most of them being really unnecessary things. But they would serve a common purpose: riling Taehyung up.

Once the boxes were secured in the back of the van, and you had asked Taehyung’s driver to head home for the day. as if on clockwork, your phone dinged a notification of an incoming text, Taehyung’s. Attached to it, and very prominently so, was a recent screenshot of a notification from his bank, asking him to verify his most recent purchase: ₩ 7,000,000 in a single exhibition from Gucci, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, anticipating his next message.

From: Taehyung [14:23] did you just buy 7 million won worth of gucci???  From: Taehyung [14:30] wait up To: Taehyung [14:32] only if you ask nicely 🤪 From: Taehyung [14:32] Y/N….

After making sure to look as close to Tae’s wettest dream as possible, white lingerie on, main bedroom lit only thanks to the subtly warm light coming out of the bathroom, you fixed yourself onto the bed, scrolling through whatever social media, waiting for Taehyung to come home. And he did. Earlier than any other time in the past month, silently making his way to the bedroom.

A dominant aura surrounded him, the exact same one you were hoping to bring out. He licked his lips over and over a few times as he seemed to contemplate you laying there on his bed ready for him, to which you could only stare back at him as he loosened the first few buttons from his shirt, deciding to turn his eyes to the floor where the dozen boxes laid untouched.

You sat up on the bed, hands on your lap, a teasing smile shooting towards your boyfriend as he pulled at some of the ribbons that decorated the black and white containers. Taehyung exhaled loudly, not exasperated, but definitely preparing himself for a punishment you were so loudly asking for. He raised an eyebrow at you as he asked, “You did this to catch my attention, then?”

“Why?” you said, smiling teasingly at him, unable to help it. “Did it work?”

Something feral crossed Taehyung’s eyes before he had one hand wrapped around the back of your neck, hovering over you as his loose hair strands covered his sight almost entirely, adding to his dominating low tone as his grip tightened almost painfully tugging at the roots of your hair. “Oh, so now you think you get to tease me, Y/N?”

He released you from his grip, a smile creeping up to his face as he heard you whimper at the loss of proximity.

“You don’t get to unnecessarily spend my money without having to face consequences, Y/N”, Taehyung said as he went back to the boxes, carefully picking out all of the cloth around each of them until there was a dozen of them on his hand. Your heart thumped violently against your chest in excitement and anticipation when he ordered, “Lay back down Y/N, legs up and open. I wanna hear you beg for me.”

Taehyung resorted to leaning against the vanity that faced the bed directly, the light from the bathroom beside it dimly illuminating the dark composure he adopted as he caressed the bunch of black material he had in his hands. You had always been a big fan of the way he seemed to never lose control once he was in the zone, how he was so seemingly unaffected at having you on full display. Completely at his mercy. 

“What are you waiting for? Panties aside, touch yourself, I wanna hear you scream.” 

Your hand was quick to pull the already sticky lacey cloth aside, biting your lips as the sensation had you already clenching around nothing, just from having Taehyung’s stare burning through you. You wetted your fingers as you caressed your folds, one elbow propping you up enough to have a somewhat clear view of your boyfriend staring back at you.

You rubbed your clit a few times, a moan escaping your lips as you threw your head back in pleasure. Grinding your hips into your hand, you rubbed yourself with the flats of four of your fingers, in an effort to increase the much needed friction as you felt yourself get wetter.

“Were you really that desperate for me, baby?” Tae’s tone was borderline mocking as he smirked to himself, barely sparing a glance at you whining on the bed; out of the corner of your eye you could see him tying up the black ribbons to one another. Feeling something stirring on your lower belly, you pinched your clit in an effort to ride out your orgasm, which was quickly cut off when Tae’s hand pushed yours out of the way as you felt your eyes prickling with tears at the sudden loss of pleasure. “Naughty girls don’t get to come so fast, Y/N.”

Taehyung’s fingers lightly caressed your folds, coating them with your wetness before he slipped them into his mouth teasingly, tasting you on his tongue for a brief second before he had you sitting on your feet, hands in your lap again as he took the homemade rope he had knotted while you’d touched yourself.

“Tonight’s safeword is gucci.” He glanced for the uptenth time at the unopened packages. “Bet you won’t forget that one.”

He moved to sit right in front of you, shirt sleeves around the mid of his arms as he took both of your wrists in his hand and started wrapping the silky material around them, binding them together.

“Put your hands behind your head, baby,” Taehyung said, continuing to wrap the rope expertly around your body, restricting most movements without hurting you too much. “Bend over a bit.” His fingers caressed your perked nipples almost unintentionally as he brought the tied ribbons to the front, face perfectly calm and concentrated as he made sure to frame your breasts with the material before bringing it down your waist and back once again. “Perfect. How do you feel?”

“Good.” You would’ve been lying if you’d said that you weren’t at least a little bit excited and nervous after going so long without one of your sessions with Tae, but at the end of the day, you knew there was no one else in the world you could leave your body at their entire mercy other than him. The rope was wrapped around your hips in no time, thighs stuck together as he manhandled you onto your knees. You were unable to hold yourself up, face against the mattress, ass up and completely exposed to him as he finished his work and stood back to appreciate it.

“The teasing game is one you can’t win against me, Y/N,” he said as his hands continued the work you had begun a few minutes prior to being completely tied up, lewd noises echoing against the walls as he wasted no time in inserting a couple of fingers into your cunt, a loud moan slipping past your lips. “You’re free to try, but you’ll end up like this every single time.”

He continued to work your orgasm up until he could feel you clenching down on his fingers, thighs trembling in anticipation before a low laugh bubbled up from his throat as he removed his hands from you. He left you whimpering against his sheets every time like a vicious cycle, tears running down your cheeks as you couldn’t even slightly move to relieve the pain that having him denying you orgasms for four times gave you.

“Aww look at you, so prettily ruined for me, Y/N.” His fingers had started to build up a turmoil in your lower abdomen once again as he methodically caressed your folds before thrusting two fingers into you lazily in favour of holding a conversation. “I guess I could let you cum this one time. Seven million won is really nothing, I keep that money as spare change.”

“Y-yes please, Tae.” Your pleasure built up faster than before as Taehyung leaned down to mouth at your folds, warm tongue working circles around your bud and fingers working you through the greatest orgasm you could ever ask for. The slurping noises took over the sound of your rigged breath and heavy whimpers as you came on his tongue, him moaning against you as your thighs spasmed violently. You could feel your eyes closing against your will, body and mind overcome with tiredness, yet somehow hazy and feeling like floating from being deprived of such activities for so long.

In the background you could hear Taehyung fiddling with the drawer of his bedside table before he cut the most restrictive parts of the rope around your wrists and thighs. “Did I hurt you?” His soft persona was back as he peppered your face with kisses, fingers wiping your tears away before he cut the rest of the silky ribbon, hands immediately massaging your tender skin.

“Not really, I missed that actually. I missed you.”

His face softened as he took your face between his hands, pouring all of his love in a kiss, an apology and a love letter at the same time as his mouth moved in sync with your own. “I’ll run you a bath and then we can order takeout. You’ll have to share your newly renovated and exclusively Gucci wardrobe though.” 

You nodded slightly at him while already having your head resting on the pillow, sleep taking over you as you faintly heard your boyfriend running the water to fill up the bathtub for you. 

[boldlyvoid]

Hypothetically | Chapter 25-27

summary: Reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.

friends to lovers, case of the week style story

A/N: Set between seasons 4 and 6, not following canon. all original crimes based on real-life stories.

Warnings 18+: Murderers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Blood, Guns, mentions of autopsy, Fluff, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bed-sharing, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Reader, Case of the Week, original crimes, Food mention, Smut, Oral Sex, Light BDSM, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, obgyn appointments and info, Home Invasion, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Pedophilia mention, non-con oral (male receiving), Pregnant Sex, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Homophobia, conversion therapy

Word Count: 18k

chapter 25

“What do you mean we’re working a missing dog case?” Hotch questioned his whole entire life at that moment as Mindy and Garcia explained the case they think they found.

“Sir, I promise you’re going to want to listen to this,” Garcia said softly, her green dress and pink hair pom-poms really reassuring him that everything was fine.

Y/N watched him roll his eyes and wish he was somewhere else, he had been getting more and more fed up with work lately. Having a hard time with Strauss, his wife, and the job in general. After Hayley almost died last year and being stabbed, he had the worst luck on the team.

“It’s going to take a minute for you to see what we see,” Mindy matched Garcia’s aura perfectly, dressed in a cat sweater.

“All 5 of these families have reported dogs missing in the Sacramento area. You think that’s not that weird, they’re probably stealing dogs for fights and step one in the serial killer handbook. But you’d be wrong,” Garcia explained, flipping from photos of missing dog posters to murdered families.

“The dogs go missing right, the parents put all their information onto a flyer, the flyer gets plastered into the neighbourhood where everyone sees it. The unsub takes the flyer, and the dog and returns it to the family just to get inside of the house. He learns what their safety protocols are like and then he decides to break in and murder,” Mindy laid it all out easily for them to follow.

“Is there any evidence that the killer is the dognapper?” Prentiss asked, chewing on the end of her pencil as she tried to wrap her head around it all.

“No,” Garcia pressed her lips together quickly. “But! Family number 5, they were murdered on Friday. Their crime scene is the newest, it’s where we’ll get the best idea of what’s going on.”

“Sir,” Mindy added. “If I’m correct about this, another family is going to die in 2 days. There’s been another small dog reported missing in Sacramento, the same type of family and everything. It’s a signature if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Send us everything you have, wheels up in 20,” Hotch sighed, taking his things and leaving the room.

“Is he okay?” Y/N asked Rossi.

Dave and he were the closest, Hotch never told his secrets of personal gossip to anyone else. He knew Rossi understood family problems the best. Having been married and divorced 3 times each.

“Don’t repeat this, Garcia that means you,” he teased her quickly. “He asked Hayley if she wanted more kids, after seeing you and JJ expanding the BAU’s gifted children program. She said she’d only have another baby if he took a few years off.”

“Oh,” Y/N wasn’t surprised. If Spencer wasn’t in the BAU he probably wouldn’t get it either. “He’s young, he can come back at any time, as you did.”

“Which is what I said to him. He just doesn’t know how he’d fill all the time yet, he doesn’t have an interest in fishing or cigars like moi,” Rossi explained. Standing up and straightening out his suit, “not to mention the writing chops to keep your brain fresh.”

“Come on grandpa, it’s time to board the plane you can brag later,” Derek patted him on the back. “Some of us like to stay active and have fun on our time off.”

“I’ll have you know I’m very fun,” Rossi argues as they leave the room. They were like a bunch of teenagers sometimes.

“Well, I’ll see you in a few days, just be in Vegas by Sunday at 2 pm,” Y/N frowned at Spencer. “Call me when you’re free?”

Spencer leaned in and kissed her softly. Rubbing his hand over her belly as he did so, saying goodbye to the little dude in there. “Be good, take care of each other.”

She smiled, wishing he didn’t have to go again. “We always do, come home to me safely boy wonder.”

In Penelope’s office, Mindy had basically moved in. It was big enough for the two of them and they worked together anyway. Sharing all the computer space, rolling around each other like crazy people as they switched jobs. That meant that Mindy’s office became Y/N’s office when she stayed back on a case.

Y/N would be 33 weeks pregnant as of Thursday, and officially Mrs. Dr. Reid by Sunday.

If everything went according to plan. This case seemed simple enough to get them home in time. If not, the flight from LA to Vegas wasn’t even that long. Y/N and Will had a plan if this was to happen, JJ and Spencer would head right to Vegas while Will and Henry flew in with Y/N. All she really needed was her wedding dress and hospital go-bag, and Spencer.

She wasn’t going to go into labour any time soon, Matty was still way too high and she was barely even having Braxton hicks contractions yet. If her body wasn’t practicing, surely it wouldn’t just start. She was a planner, she planned everything and this pregnancy didn’t seem to listen. All she wanted was for him to be born on or after June 10th, healthy and happy, that’s her only wish.

She hated cases like these, ones that made her sit behind a desk and just look at everything till it made sense. But it never did, not in her brain. Thinking like an unsub was the only time it made sense, but she never understood it. Kidnapping a dog just to kill a family was never going to be something one could just understand.

The only idea she had was to get someone inside the newest victims’ house and just wait for the unsub to return the dog. It would be the easiest way to bring him in for questioning. So she called Hotch.

“Hotchner,” he answered shortly.

“Hey, I was just wondering if you had a plan yet? If not, I’ve been thinking.”

“We’re trying to find a way to get eyes and ears inside the vics home,” Hotch explained, it sounded like he was driving and yelling over the speaker.

“I was thinking you could send in Reid or Morgan posing as a tutor or coach of some kind, then you can hide the equipment in the bag they bring in, it would be the least suspicious,” she ran her thoughts through to him.

“That would work, I’ll have the team see what we can do from our end,” Hotch ended the call abruptly. Still in the bad mood from when he left.

She couldn’t blame him, it’s a hard spot raising kids and having this job. Y/N and Spencer were still trying to figure out how they were going to pull it off. She couldn’t imagine what it was like for Haley, always being alone with Jack and half the time her life was in danger. The risk that came with the job almost didn’t feel worth it, especially when it meant losing your family on top of everything else.

They sent Derek in, with Penelope in his ear, as he set up the cameras and microphones. Setting up 24/7 patrol across the street in a model home. Meaning that Y/N’s job was basically over and all she had to do was kick her feet up and eat snacks until she could go home.

—

Spencer crawled into bed 2 days later around 4 in the morning, cuddling into her without even taking off his work clothes. She barely slept when Spencer wasn’t home, she opened her eyes when she noticed he was there, as if she hadn’t even slept yet.

He smelled like hotel soap and stale airplane air. “Hi,” he whispered as he tried to cuddle in close to her, being held back by her belly.

“Home just in time to have to fly out again,” she smiled at him softly.

“I know,” he sighed. “I doubt the bureau would like us if we used the jet to travel to a wedding. It’s bad enough we have one and no other unit does.”

“Are you excited or nervous?”

“Both.”

“Mmm,” she hummed along. “I’m nervous.”

“Why?”

“I still haven’t written my vows and,” she stopped herself, frowning a little as Spencer laid a hand on her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s all happening so fast. I feel like I haven’t had a chance to enjoy any of it and I’m worried if this is how fast the lead-up is, then how fast will the night be over?”

“Oh bunny,” he cooed. “I’ll make sure we get a moment alone, how about we sneak off during the party and go to the swing and just spend time together? Really make the most of our day.”

“Okay,” she smiled again. “A part of me wishes it was just us.”

“How about this,” Spencer said as he sat up, turning on the bedside lamp before getting out of bed. He looked through his underwear drawer and pulled out the box the rings were in. “Marry me, right now?”

“What?” She laughed.

“Just me and you, marry me?”

“It won’t count this way?” She rebutted, sitting up as well as she squinted in the light. Trying to wake up more.

“you’re not religious and you hate the government even though you work for them,” he reminded her. “Having a sheet of paper and dedicating my life to you are two completely different things.”

“I told you I don’t have my vows ready!”

Spencer sat on the bed, sitting directly across from her as he placed the rings on the bed. Taking both her hands in his as he looked into her eyes. “Just make it up?”

“You’re insufferable,” she teased him.

“And you love me,” he teased right back.

“Fine, Spencer Reid, you big fuckin’ dork,” she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “My whole life I’ve just wanted to love you. I don’t know how I managed to pull it off, but here I am."

She let out a long, shaky breath as she continued. "You complete me, I don’t feel right when you’re not around and I never want to lose you. Marrying you means more to me than just becoming your wife, I don’t care about the term or the tax benefits," she laughed as a tear fell down her cheek. he wiped it away quickly.

"I was perfectly content just being in your rotation. Being your partner for life is a blessing to me, I’m going to love you forever.” She picked up and ring and put it on his finger.

His eyes were glossy as he watched her shaking hand slip the ring over him. He loved her more than he even knew how to describe at the moment.

“Do you remember that one time you asked me to show you how a real man loves a woman?”

She laughed, looking down at her gigantic belly. “Kinda hard to forget when I’m carrying around this extra 30 pounds.”

“It reminded me of a quote I read on a swing one time,” he said softly, watching her eyes gleam as she knew where he was going.

“The unqualified truth is, that when I loved Y/N with the love of a man, I loved her simply because I found her irresistible. Once for all; I knew to my sorrow, often and often, if not always, that I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be. Once for all; I love her nonetheless because I knew it, and it had no more influence in restraining me, than if I had devoutly believed her to be human perfection.”

“What’s that from?” Y/N couldn’t stop the tears from falling down her cheeks, she had never known what book he was reading. She always wondered what his thoughts were in that moment when their eyes locked in remembrance all those years ago.

“Great Expectations by Charles Dickens,” Spencer replied, starting to cry as well.

That’s when she remembered it, looking over at the book that had been sitting on his bedside table for months. It was the book he re-read the most, the book he was reading that first night in Wichita when she asked to crawl into his bed. The book he put down before they conceived Matthew. The whole time she was falling in love with him, the way she did as a child, he was reading the same book because it reminded him of her.

“I didn’t expect that book to hold such a place in my heart the first time I read it. I only brought it to the park with me that day because it was the closest book to me, and I was having a really hard day,” he stopped to wipe his tears softly. “Yet somehow, every single bad day in my life has been made better by you. You’re my greatest expectation, and the only one I’m trying the hardest to live up to.”

“I love you,” she replied to him softly. Holding his face in her hands now as she stared into his eyes, “you’re always going to be everything I’ve ever wanted and all I’ll ever need. You’ve met every expectation, and beyond.”

“I love you,” he smiled. He took her left hand off his cheek, sliding the silver band over her ring finger, pressing it snugly against her engagement ring. “forever.”

“And then some,” Y/N added before kissing him softly.

She smiled against his lips, sitting back and looking at him with complete wonder. “Dr. Y/L/N,” she teased him, pretending to tip her imaginary hat.

“Agent Reid,” he copied her causing them both to laugh again.

“So when is our real anniversary then?” Y/N asked softly, trying to remember what day of the month it was.

“It’s April 20th.”

“Our anniversary cannot be 4/20!” She panicked. “Oh. My god!”

Spencer laughed from down deep in his gut, laying down against the sheets as she smacked his arm lightly. “I’m serious, but that’s so funny though,” she laughed too.

She laid back against the sheets then, Spencer cuddled into her side. His face in the crook of her neck while laying a leg over hers. She held him as close as she could, Matthew really starting to get in the way of everything she did now.

She let out a deep breath as she settled with Spencer against her. “I love you so much, my husband.”

“I love you more, my wife,” he replied. The words sounding like heaven on his lips.

chapter 26

She let out a deep breath when the dress actually zipped up. She was so worried that in the last 2 weeks her body had completely changed. JJ finished with her zipper, fluffing her dress and making sure everything was in place.

Her mom was wiping her tears for the 4th time in the last hour, Y/N couldn’t stop laughing every time she heard her sniffle. It didn’t feel as life-changing as her mother made it seem, Spencer and Y/N were already married in her opinion, this was just a nice formality for their parents.

She could hear all the people talking in her parent’s yard, a few kids yelling as they ran around each other. People were already drinking, there was food and snacks all around. It was just a big party where they were going to tell everyone exactly how much they loved each other.

As much as she was ready mentally, her body was shot. The butterflies in her stomach wouldn’t leave, the baby was kicking from the anxiety in her body no matter how hard she tried to calm down. It was nerve-wracking to be so open in front of so many people.

It was even worse with the fact she hadn’t seen Spencer since yesterday. As much as he claimed he wasn’t superstitious, he really didn’t want to see her before the wedding. Claiming his mother was the worried one, Y/N let it slide no matter how much she hated sleeping in her childhood bed all by herself with a mini-gymnast in her stomach.

“Are you ready?” JJ asked her softly.

She nodded, looking in the mirror at herself one last time. “Can I have a minute?”

“Sure,” JJ smiled, taking Debbie with her as they walked out of her room.

She stood in the window, opening the blinds and looking out towards the swings once again. Spencer was sitting there, swinging while staring at her window.

She smiled, feeling the butterflies leave her system in a beautiful flurry as their eyes locked. She was ready, she had always been ready to marry him.

She walked out of the room and down the stairs, holding the railing carefully. She was just wearing a pair of crocs under her dress, not trusting her big clumsy ass with heels.

She waited in the foyer as Emily walked across the street to gather everyone. She was officiating for them, Spencer wanted her to be the one to marry them, she was the closest thing to a sister he had.

Every single important person in their lives was in the crowd. Even Spencers father was there, in the back, quiet. Diana was happy to see him, Spencer felt indifferent. Gideon came too, which made it a little easier.

They all walked across the street then, gathering at the end of the makeshift aisle they laid out in the park. Penelope played a simple wedding march, starting the ceremony officially.

Everyone stood, turning towards them. Chloe went down first, dropping flower petals in big clumps here and there before running towards her mom. Then it was Y/N’s turn, opting out of the whole bridesmaid’s thing for the sake of not having to pick and choose between her co-workers and sisters-in-law.

Her dad extended an arm for her, she took it as she softly smiled at him. He looked like he was trying not to cry, “ready?”

“Let’s go,” she whispered.

Seeing Spencer at the end of the aisle was like a dream. She began to walk towards him, every step closer made her heartbeat louder and louder in her chest. Before she knew it she was standing in front of him, her dad giving her a soft kiss on the cheek before handing her over to Spencer.

The idea of giving her away was weird. He wasn’t giving her to him, he was simply helping her reach him. And he always had been.

Spencer’s hand was soft in hers and they stepped towards Emily together.

The music stopped then, causing them to turn to each other and smile. It was time.

It felt more like time stopped, however, getting a sort of tunnel vision for each other as the rest of the world faded away.

“Welcome everyone, you can take a seat,” Emily cut into the moment. “A few weeks ago Spencer asked me if I’d marry him off to his best friend, I of course said yes because who can say no to that face?”

Everyone laughed as Spencer blushed. “Spencer is the smartest man to work in the FBI, we’re not afraid to admit that. From the day I met him, he was nothing but informative and kind, as well as shy and personal. It took a while to learn anything about him, but once you get to know him he’s like an open book. And it’s a good story.”

“Like most good fairy tales, it’s a story told in two parts. Starting with a meet-cute of cosmic proportions, a plotline that would make any other ’right for each other at the wrong time,’ story run for the hills,” Emily exaggerated.

“And finally, a reunion,” her voice was soft then. “I’ll never forget the day Spencer held the door open for Y/N, she walked in with a smile on her face that was almost as big as Spencers. He introduced us to a childhood friend that day, not realizing she would become part of our family.”

Y/N felt herself getting a little choked up, seeing Penelope and JJ wiping their tears just off to the side.

“It’s a story best told in the first person,” Emily laughed at her own joke. “So, without further ado, ladies first,” she instructed, stepping away from the altar to keep the focus on them.

“Well?” Y/N shook her head at him, motioning with her hand for him to start speaking. Making everyone laugh once again. Spencer’s smile was adorable as he giggled.

“Would you say— hypothetically, of course, that soulmates are real, Doctor Reid?” She questioned him softly.

He nodded, “I would.”

“Good,” she smiled. “Because I think you’re mine. And I think I’ve known that for a very long time. There was something about you, that first day I saw you. You weren’t shoving dirt up your nose or pulling on my hair. You were reading a book, I believe it was Matilda, you were all by yourself and you looked sad.”

“Me, being me,” she laughed to herself, “I marched over to you and I asked if you wanted to play in the sandbox with me. One small gesture changed the entire course of my life, you became a friend and then a stranger again in the blink of an eye. I know what it’s like to know of you and not be in your presence and it’s the worst.”

She didn’t want to cry, but she knew she was about to. “I know you’re my soulmate because my soul physically aches when you’re not around. Like magnets, I’m pulled towards you and I’m willing to crush anything that gets in the way. You and I were once the same cosmic rock just floating through space, separated for millions of years until the time was right.”

“I found you right when I needed you,” she wiped a tear off her cheek quickly. “When we needed each other. And I’m never going to let you go.”

She turned towards Emily, grabbing a ring from her. “With this ring, you’re tied to me for eternity now, the way things always should have been.”

“I love you,” Spencer whispered, wiping his own tears before holding her hands again.

“Your turn, pretty boy,” she teased him one last time, laughing to try and stop the tears.

“Most of you know the story,” Spencer began his speech. Staring into Y/N’s eyes, trying to forget there was an audience.

“We met in kindergarten, she was wearing a sundress with green and pink flowers, much like today. You had bangs back then and a cute pink bow in your hair. And you were as stubborn then as you are now,” he smiled. “Mrs. Richardson had told me twice that we weren’t allowed to put water in the sandbox, no matter how important it was to the construction of my model pyramids. That’s why I was reading my book. You went to your backpack, grabbed a water bottle, and poured it right into the sand without thinking twice about the consequences.

“I didn’t really see you again until I was 13, I sat on that swing with my copy of Great Expectations by Charles Dickens while you sat in your window way up there.” He pointed at her house, past the swing set. “I’ll never know what you were reading or what you were thinking, but I have the exact moment I saw you ingrained in my memory,” Spencer’s words were soft as his thumbs ran over her hands.

“Out of my thoughts! You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read, since I first came here, the rough common boy whose poor heart you wounded even then. You have been in every prospect I have ever seen since – on the river, on the sails of the ships, on the marshes, in the clouds, in the light, in the darkness, in the wind, in the woods, in the sea, in the streets.” Spencer recited from memory.

“You have been the embodiment of every graceful fancy that my mind has ever become acquainted with. The stones of which the strongest London buildings are made, are not more real, or more impossible to displace with your hands, than your presence and influence have been to me, there and everywhere, and will be. Y/N, to the last hour of my life, you cannot choose but remain part of my character, part of the little good in me, part of the evil. But, in this separation I associate you only with the good, and I will faithfully hold you to that always, for you must have done me far more good than harm, let me feel now what sharp distress I may. O God bless you,” Spencer’s voice trailed off to a whisper as he reached the end.

“I read that quote moments before seeing you again, and part of me knew the universe had greater plans for us. And I knew, Love her, love her, love her! If she favours you, love her. If she wounds you, love her. If she tears your heart to pieces – and as it gets older and stronger, it will tear deeper – love her, love her, love her!”

“With this ring,” Spencer finally added. Lifting the last ring from Derek’s extended hand, placing it on Y/N’s ring finger where it belonged. “I vow to love you till my very last moments, and if heaven is real I’ll be waiting for your loving embrace.”

She wiped her tears quickly, looking up as she tried to stop her mascara from smudging. “You’re a dick sometimes,” she started to laugh before hearing the crowd do the same.

“You love me,” he teased her.

“I do,” she smiled, pulling him in and kissing him hard on the lips. Getting lost in his embrace as the world around them stopped.

—

Having every single person that she loved mingle around her parent’s backyard felt a little surreal. Her father and Rossi were smoking cigars together on the desk, Levi and Will were discussing training stories while Chloe and Henry chased each other around the yard.

Emily and Noelle were slowly dancing in their own little world to the music that played, not too far from Haley and Arron who had the same idea. Jack was talking to Derek, sharing stories about their favourite superhero.

Diana and Debbie were going around making sure everyone had a drink or a snack, discussing their children and showing off to everyone that was there. It was a lot to take in, but she wouldn’t change it for the world. This was the most perfect little wedding she could have ever asked for.

Spencer never left her side, holding her hand where ever she went for the majority of the night. Knowing she hated being the centre of anyone else attention, calming her down from all the eyes that were on her.

“Do you want to go to the swing?” He whispered in her ear when they were finally alone.

“Please,” she looked up at him with pleading eyes. Wanting to just be alone with him for a while.

She snuck out of the yard and across the street, Y/N sat down on the swing for the first time in years, her big belly thanking her for the relief. Spencer pushed her lightly on the swing, helping her swing in the late-night spring breeze in rural Nevada.

The light in her bedroom was still on, illuminating the empty room she called hers for the majority of her life. Still unable to process the fact that she did it, she married Spencer. She made a life in his orbit, she was happy and loved and making a family with the man of her dreams.

This was the best revenge she could have ever gotten on any childhood bully or predator in her life. Pure happiness, that no one could take from her. Knowing she did this on her own, meeting Spencer out of the blue and building a life of joy and peace was so unbelievably wonderful.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” Spencer asked softly as he continued to push her on the swing.

“I’m just amazed that I did it,” she said softly.

“Did what?”

“all this,” she waved her arm out in front of her. “I grew up, I made friends and a family and found the love of my life even after believing for so long that I never would.”

“the universe had better plans for you than you thought,” She could hear the smile on Spencer’s face as he spoke. “You’re so deserving of the world and then some, you’re worth the universe to me. Brighter than any star in the sky, more powerful than the big-bang.”

She dragged her feet along the sand, stopping the swing abruptly before turning around to see Spencer. His eyes glistened in the moonlight or the streetlight. Either way, his brown eyes were glowing as she looked up at him softly.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?”

She wrapped her arms around him as best as she could, pressing her cheek against his chest softly. “For showing me that love is real.”

“Being able to love you has been the best part of my life.”

She pulled him into another kiss, holding his face softly as she peppered kisses to his lips over and over. “You get me forever.”

“And then some.”

“Hypothetically,” she teased him lightly. “Anything is possible when the two of us get together.”

“I love you,” was all he could say before kissing her again.

They could hear the music travelling across the street for the yard, she wrapped her arms around him and swayed to the beat. Taking a moment completely alone with him to just appreciate him. To hold him close, hear his heartbeat through his suit jacket and just take it all in.

The rest of her life started at that moment, the birth of a new future. One with endless possibilities, endless happiness, and the most love in the whole world.

Soulmates, 500 years in the making.

Placing 500 more years of possibilities in the hands of Fate, who cradled them in her loving embrace. Making a future for them unlike any she’s made before.

Epilogue

2020

The birds chirping used to make her wake up with a smile, now it made her panic a little. She was so overly used to being woken up to a baby crying, a kid with a tummy ache, or the sound of fighting coming from the cribs in the twin’s room.

When it was quiet she worried, opening her eyes and looking around to see all 4 of her children cuddled up around her and Spencer. Completely asleep, and absolutely adorable.

Matthews’s face was beside hers on the pillow. His long hair falling over his face, just like his fathers used to all those years ago. She kissed her baby on the forehead, unable to fully understand that he was 10 now.

The twins were in the middle, Harper and Derek were attached at the hip all day long. Sleeping basically on top of each other, it was the only way they were peaceful. Since being squished together in the womb, they’ve become best friends and each other’s comfort person over the last 6 years.

Alice on the other hand was a daddy’s girl. Probably because she got the most time with him, 2 and a half years’ worth of all Spencer’s love and affection.

Spencer had quit the BAU when they got pregnant with their last baby, deciding he wanted to be with his kids full time. He wanted to be more present, to make more memories and just be a good dad.

Every morning Alice would find her way into the bed, she’d do whatever it took to get between Y/N and Spencer, cuddling into her father’s arms and going back to sleep. Almost every time, she would push her mom’s arms away, waking Y/N up in the process just to smirk at her as if to say; “haha my turn.”

She loved her little family. And they loved her too, she had been out of town for a week on a really bad case that required all hands on deck. They called her every day, begging her to come home soon, breaking her heart. So it wasn’t a surprise to see all of them snuggled in, taking in all the time with her that they could.

Matthews’s eyes fluttered as he woke up, his big beautiful brown eyes looking at her softly. “Mom,” he said softly with a smile before wrapping his arms around her neck and snuggling into her. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, Mr. Magoo,” she whispered into his hair, holding him close. He still smelled like her little baby, only bigger as he rested against her.

“Are we still going to Uncle Dave’s tonight?” He asked as he settled against her, wanting her to run her fingers through his hair. It calmed him as it did for Spencer, soothing his mind as it ran a million miles a minute.

“I think so,” she replied, picking him up softly and laying on her back more. “I think all your cousins are going to be there too.”

“Even Jack?” He asked, sitting up with wonder in his eyes. Jack was 15 now, and just the coolest dude in Matthews’s life. Much like how Spencer looked up to Hotch in the beginning.

“Even Jack!” She whispered with enthusiasm, trying to keep the others asleep but it was too late.

“Mommy!” Harper cried, pushing Derek away from her as she leaped into her mother’s arms.

“Hi sweetheart,” she couldn’t stop herself from laughing as she got smothered in hugs from the twins.

Spencer looked over at her then. Alice was snuggled into his neck, one hand on his shoulder, the other in his hair. She had always played with his hair every chance she could get. Especially whenever he held her or gave her a ride on his shoulders as they walked through the park.

“Hi,” Spencer smiled.

There he was, the love of her life. His smile made her feel at home, the love between them only growing every morning when they laid eyes on each other.

“Are you going to say hi to mommy?” Spencer asked Alice, rubbing her back softly.

She raised her hand to wave softly before dropping it back onto Spencer’s head with a smack, “ow?” He laughed lightly, making her bounce on his chest and laugh in response.

She was always quiet in the morning, leaving all the talking to her siblings. She was the calmest of them all, she was also the easiest of the 4 of them. She didn’t cry unless she was desperate for food or attention, she slept through the nights and was just all around not fussy at all. A literal blessing to their lives.

The twins were a lot, they knew they would be. She doesn’t miss the days and nights of them taking turns screaming. And she definitely doesn’t miss the ache of her body as two babies sucked her dry for almost 6 months. Breastfeeding kicked her ass the most, eventually making her lose too much weight and faint from low blood pressure, it sucked.

The outcome was beyond worth it. Derek and Harper were the craziest, funniest, loudest 6-year-olds in the whole world. If they weren’t writing a show, pretending to direct a spooky movie or pulling pranks on their father, they were planning to.

They had a specific dynamic, Harper was the planner and Derek was the do-er. Harper would come up with the sneakiest, worst ideas a child could have and somehow always managed to convince Derek to do it for her. A modern-day Jekyll and Hyde terrorized her home.

But Matthew, He was the sweetest. Being a single child till the age of 4 meant he was around Spencer and Y/N all the time, just the three of them. He’s shy but outgoing, he speaks his mind and he isn’t afraid to share his thoughts and feelings. He’s the best part of both of them but with all the confidence to follow his dreams. He was handsome and smart, he was sweet and kind, he was her baby. Forever and always, no matter how big he got.

He’s smart like Spencer, but not jumping through elementary school as fast. They agreed to let him decide when he turned 14. He deserved the chance to grow up with his own age group, to make friends and memories that were good and happy, to build the confidence to stand up for himself and others before he finished school. He didn’t mind it, he enjoyed helping other students when he finished his work early and asking for extra credit assignments.

And he liked being in class with Roz LaMontagne. They were smitten with each other from day one, always holding hands and playing nicely. JJ and Y/N always felt bad peeling them apart from each other at the end of a playdate, they were best friends.

It was like Roz had 2 older brothers with Henry and Matt, the 3 of them being so close in age they were often mistaken for triplets, with JJ and Y/N being their lesbian moms. It was a ruse that came in handy when they saw men checking them out, or when they wanted a family discount at the zoo.

Her life felt perfect, it was far from it in reality but she was happy with that. She worked long hours, her kids missed her every day, she didn’t see Spencer as often as she’d like and she was always tired. But that was what it took, she would work herself to the bone in an instant if it meant that she could come home and be snuggled like this every time.

“How was your week?” She asked Harper, brushing her strawberry blond hair behind her ear as she cuddled into her other side. Now having 3 children laying on top of her.

“Dad took us to the air and space museum,” Derek answered for her.

“No way!” Y/N enthused. “You need to tell me everything you learned!”

“The Museum is the largest of the Smithsonian's 19 museums and its Center for Earth and Planetary studies is one of the Institution's nine research centres. More than eight million people a year visit the Museum's two locations, making it one of the most visited museums in the country,” Matthew explained, remembering the sign at the entrance from memory.

“Wow, what was everyone’s favourite part? Maybe we can go again soon and you can all show me?” She suggested, riling them all up till they were bouncing on the mattress and screaming suggestions back and forth.

“Okay, okay,” Y/N settled them down. Watching them all sit-down and smile as they tried to stop laugh and listen. “Why don’t we go get breakfast and spend the morning together before we get ready to go to Aunt Penny’s party tonight okay?”

“I thought it was Uncle Dave's party?” Derek asked.

“It’s at his house but you know how aunt penny plans,” Y/N smiled at him. “How about you all go get dressed and pick something nice to wear while I talk to your dad for a bit?”

“Anything I want to wear?” Harper questioned her, very serious.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head, “something nice, but yes your choice.”

“Yes!” Harper screamed, hopping off the bed making the whole room shake as she ran down the hall. The sound of her bare feet slapping the hardwood carrying through the hallway in an echo.

“Matty, I’ll dress Alice, can you just watch her for a minute?” Spencer asked as he placed Alice in the middle of the bed.

“Sure,” Matthew smiled. “Come on Ali, I’ll read you a book?”

She put her arms out for her brother to carry her, and soon enough it was just Spencer and Y/N all alone again. Spencer and her both falling back against the pillows and sighing in the quiet.

Spencer pulled her into a hug, wrapping himself around her as he kissed her cheek, “I missed you so much, I hate when you’re gone.”

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you,” she said softly. “I got a job offer last night, and I think I’m going to take it.”

“What is it?”

“VICAP and the BAU are merging, even more, I’ve been asked to be the Chief of VICAP to personally overview the program and pass the information along to Prentiss,” She explained. “It would be a 9-5 thing, 5 days a week. I’d be home for dinner and all weekend long. We could have another baby or go on vacation? You know the possibilities are endless.”

Spencer kissed her again, “you’d be able to help people and be home all the time.”

“Exactly,” she smiled into his embrace. “I told them I’d let them know later today, they want me to start next month.”

“Follow your gut,” Spencer whispered, happy at the decision she was making either way.

“My gut is currently saying ‘feeeeed meeee’, so let’s get going!” She cheered as she tried to escape from his embrace.

He just held on tighter, tickling her stomach and kissing her neck, “help!” She cried, joking obviously and the kids knew that. Sure enough, 4 pairs of feet came running back into their room, dog piling them.

“I said help! Not suffocate me?!” She teased them as Spencer let her go, each taking a child and tickling them instead. Everyone was screaming again, giggling from deep in their stomach, feeling sick from how happy they were.

She loved every moment of it.

—

After 10 years, the BAU had gone through a lot of changes. Everyone seemed to come and go at least once, some leaving for good when their families started. But there were a lot of new faces now, once someone was on the team they were family.

It was a rare occasion for everyone to get together, especially now that almost everyone had kids. Spencer and Y/N went from being the 2nd set of parents to aunty and uncle to 8 kids in 10 years.

That meant that there were currently 12 screaming kids terrorizing Rossi’s beautiful backyard as the adults sat around the fire. “Please tell me no one here has a baby announcement to make, I don’t think I can handle a thirteenth,” Rossi complained, grey hair making him look more like papa Rossi than uncle Dave now.

“No,” everyone said in unison, laughing at the abundantly clear meaning. They were all too tired to do it all again.

“Like Spencer’s mom said, why have another when you can stop at perfection?” Emily joked as she leaned into Noelle’s embrace. “PJ is the best little guy in the world.”

“Spencer makes some great kids,” Y/N laughed. Remembering that time Emily nervously asked them if Spencer would be the donor for her child. Wanting her kid to be born with the best DNA she could think of.

“That he does,” Noelle smiled, looking into the yard to see PJ, Michael and Hank roughhousing like they always were.

They all had kids fairly close together, always making sure each new member of the BAU's gifted children program had friends who were more like family in their lives. Their small chosen family expanded not only in size but with the amount of love they shared for each other.

Henry was 12 now, Jack 15. They had always gotten along well together, being a little more on the nerdy side. They welcomed Matthew into their little group with open arms, as well as Roz.

Hotch ended up becoming Section Chief, taking a desk job so that he could spend more time with his family. They welcomed Jessie 6 years ago, right around the time Y/N had the twins. She was a spitting image of Haley with all the stern seriousness of Hotch. Seeing her and Harper try and work together was always funny. Harper and Derek were always trying to start shit somewhere, while Jessie ran to Y/N to tattle on them. It was the funniest dynamic out of all the age groups, and it was only going to get worse as they grew up.

“I don’t know,” Y/N sighed, looking at her kids as they all smiled and laughed. The joy they brought her was unimaginable, “I think 5 would be interesting.”

“You’re a psycho, and I should know, I’m an expert,” JJ just shook her head, blinking at the craziness. “I can barely handle 3.”

“Alice was so easy though,” she whined. “All of them were good, I miss having a baby who wanted to cuddle with me. It’s not fair Spencer gets all the attention now.”

“You could always quit, they’d love that,” he teased her softly, not wanting to wake Alice as she slept on him, tired from playing with everyone during the afternoon.

“My new position is going to be better for us,” she smirked.

“What position?” Penelope yelled at her.

“I’m going to be the VICAP unit chief,” she smiled, watching them all light up as they congratulated her. Starling the sleeping Alice on Spencer’s chest.

“I think I’ve done enough fieldwork, I’d like to cook more dinners and read more bedtime stories now,” she smiled. “I never thought I’d say that.”

“I don’t think any of us did,” Haley added. “I never expected Aaron to slow down, but when he did I think it was the best thing he chose to do. Jack and Jessie love having him around all the time.”

“To 10 plus years on the job, 10 years of friendship and the 12 new lives we brought into this world,” Y/N said as she lifted her can of ginger-ale, everyone following with their own drinks.

“To family,” Prentiss added.

“To family,” they all repeated.

Taking a sip before smiling at each other, everything ended up okay. It was more than they ever expected, and everything they hoped for.

—

The kids all fell asleep on the ride home. Spencer and Y/N each taking one of the twins upstairs first, placing them in their beds softly before returning to the garage for the others. Finding Matthew trying to carefully bring Alice inside to help his parents.

“Hey Matty it’s okay,” Spencer whispered, placing a hand on his back. “you go inside with your mom and I’ll take care of this.”

“Okay,” he replied, extremely tired as his eyelids drooped.

Y/N wrapped her arm around his shoulders, he was almost as tall as her already and she wasn’t ready for that. “Come on my baby,” she whispered as she led him into the house and up the stairs.

She helped him change into a pair of pyjamas before helping him into his bed, covering him in his adorable planet-covered sheets. She tucked him in nice a snug before sitting on the edge, looking down at him as he closed his eyes and settled in.

She brushed his brown curls off his face, making way for the kiss she was about to leave on his forehead. “Goodnight my Matty Magoo, I love you to the moon and back.”

“I love you to the edge of the milky way,” he replied with a small smile. “I’m excited for you to be home more. Dad worries about you and it makes him sad, I like seeing you both happy together.” He rambled all his thoughts out at night just like Spencer did.

She kissed his head softly, holding his cheeks in her hand as she looked into his beautiful brown eyes. “You are so sweet, have a good sleep and I will see you tomorrow. I love you.” She told him again, and she’d tell him a million more times if she could.

“I love you, too, mom,” he smiled one last time before closing his eyes.

She shut off his lamp, closing his door on the way out.

She stood in the hallway then, a hand on her heart as she thought about just how much she loved him. JJ wasn’t kidding when she said you grow a love so big you’d kill for them.

Back in the twin’s room, she made sure they were comfortable for the night, taking Harper out of the crazy dress and pants she picked out for the day. Tucking both of them into their little beds, kissing their heads before turning on their nightlight. They didn’t like the dark, and they liked to keep their door open a little so buddy could sneak in.

In her own room, she found Spencer in bed, shirtless with a book. He got sexier as he got older, it was impossible and yet it happened. Every year he looked different, in a wonderful way.

His hair was fluffy, his tummy was fuller— a dad bod as Penelope would call it. He wore glasses all the time now, having a hard time reading without them. It made him incredibly hot.

She changed into a cute pyjama set, satin shorts and a spaghetti strap top, wanting to get his attention away from whatever book he found this time.

She could feel his eyes on her as she changed, not wanting to look at him and make him stop.

He put his book down when she got in beside him, still on the right side after all these years. “What?” She asked him as he kept staring at her.

“Were you serious?”

“Yes I do think you’re sexy, I didn’t think you could read minds too?” She teased him.

“Funny,” he smiled at her. “Do you want another baby?”

She shrugged, “we could Russian roulette this and just see if it happens?”

“Seriously?” His voice dropped, softer than normal. “Because I would have 16 more kids with you if you wanted. They’re all so amazing, every time.”

“I know,” she felt her heart melt. “Matthew said you get sad when I’m not here, he worries for you.”

“All week, Harper wore her regular outfits because she likes making you laugh with her silly ones,” Spencer told her. They liked to share secrets about their kids at night. Basically profiling them.

“I love them,” her heart felt like it was going to burst.

“Come here,” Spencer requested, waiting for her to sit on his hips and look down into his eyes like she always did. She brushed the hair off his face, holding his cheeks in her hands.

His eyes are so much like Matthews, but it was Alice who looked the most like him. She had his nose, his chin, she was tall and skinny and just the most adorable copy of him. Every feature on him was in one of their kids, he saw the same thing in her.

“Are you sure?” She asked him softly.

“The only thing in the whole world that I know for certain is that I love you and this family. Even gravity is simply a hypothetical, but you and me… I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” his words soft and his expression softer.

She kissed him, pressing her lips against his for the first time in a while. It always felt like coming home, this was where she was meant to be.

When she pulled back all she wanted to do was look at him for a minute, to imagine what new little face the two of them could make together. All 4 of their children were so perfect, she couldn’t imagine a 5th possibility.

“Put a baby in me,” She whispered.

She didn’t have to tell him twice, he reached over to the night table to turn off the light before kissing her neck softly. His big, warm hands wrapped around her back, pulling her in closer to him.

He was so much different now from the first time they did this. Confident, stronger, older, but he was still her soft boy. He held her with care, kissed her like she was made out of glass. The contrast of his actions and the feeling of his rough hands on her body made her feel like she was on fire.

He pushed the straps of her shirt off her shoulders, dipping her back a little so he could kiss her cheek. He pushed her shirt down, freeing one of her breasts, holding it softly in his hands before kissing the newly exposed skin.

His tongue swiped across her nipple, making her gasp and grip his arm as she rutted into the feeling. He cradled her head in his hands, laying her back with her head now at the foot of the bed.

Still, between her legs, he pulled the satin shorts down slowly to see she never wore any underwear under them. He smirked, running his finger softly over her vagina, watching in awe as she spread her legs wider for him.

She could see how hard he was, his erection making a tent in his boxers as he teased her softly. “Still so perfect,” he praised her. “Look how tight you are, sucking my finger inside that tight heat.”

She tightened around him on purpose then, feeling his finger slip in even more. “Fuck,” he gasped. Moving down more to place a kiss on her clit.

Her breathing picked up then, even after 11 years of sex with this man, the thought of his tongue on her still made her shiver. He was just that good, always getting better every time he dove face-first into her.

Her back arched the second his tongue connected with her clit. Pushing herself into his tongue more and more as he explored her. Two fingers were inside of her now, Spencer’s mouth kissing and sucking and licking every single inch of her pussy as she quietly gasped into the darkness.

She wanted to scream for more, she always did, but she couldn’t anymore. There were 4 sets of ears just down the hall trying to have a peaceful night’s sleep, she had to remind herself of that every time.

“Fuck, Spencer,” she whispered, biting her lip so nothing else slipped out.

“What?” He whispered against her skin, kissing her groin and lower tummy.

“Please,” she begged softly, sitting up and climbing onto his lap once more. “Daddy?”

It had been years since she said that to him, not able to utter the words once he actually became a father. It lit a fire in him, pulling her in closer before he ripped the shirt off her body.

He held her against him, kissing her neck as he basically growled at the feeling. Becoming almost feral with the thought of fucking her. She was in love with the feeling, when he got rough with her it was the best.

She enjoyed every second of it, knowing she’d wake up in the morning with beard burn on her neck and between her thighs, not giving a single fuck. It was so worth it, the tickle of his facial hair on her skin beside his mouth, she craved it.

“I need you out of those boxers, sir,” she panted, holding his hair as he continued to kiss her neck.

He pulled off her, looking at her in the darkness with lust-filled eyes. “Lay back,” he instructed her.

She always listened, laying back against the pillows as he freed himself from the confines of his underwear. Crawling on top of her and hovering slightly as he looked down at her. He brushed her hair off her face, kissing her lips lightly before smiling.

“Tell me again what you want?”

She smirked, “I want you to put a baby in me, fill me up. Let me make you a daddy again?”

The noise that left his throat was enough to make her clit twitch again, it was deep and guttural and beyond sexy. He became an animal on nights like this.

She spread her legs again, wrapping her knees around him as he pulled him in against her body. “Fuck me, Spencer.”

He lined himself up with her quickly, dragging the head of his cock through her folds a few times before he began to push in. Little by little, achingly slow. Teasing her, knowing just how badly she wanted him to pound into her.

“Yes,” she sighed as he bottomed out, dropping her head back against the pillow softly.

Her hands roamed his back, waiting for him to start to move again. Digging her nails in when he finally did, pulling out slowly before pushing back in with effort.

“Ah,” she moaned softly, covering her own mouth as he started to move faster.

“Shhh,” he reminded her, kissing her neck again as he found his rhythm.

“Shut up and fuck me then,” she sounded desperate. “Please,” she added. Not wanting him to stop out of spite.

“Shut up and take it,” he ordered, placing his own hand over her mouth as he fucked her harder.

She couldn’t believe it, he was holding one hand over her mouth while his other reached for her clit, making her jolt forward at the contact. It was everything she wanted, it was rough and powerful and just the best reminder that she belonged to him.

Spencer was hers, she was his, they created this entire world together. She felt so overwhelmed, she wasn’t aware that she was crying at the pleasure till Spencer moved his hand off her mouth to wipe off a tear.

“Keep going,” she encouraged him. “Please, please.”

“Shhh,” he soothed her, “I’m going to make you feel so good bunny, you’re going to be so full, so beautiful carrying another one of our babies.”

That did it for her, she tilted her head back as she arched her back. Pulling Spencer’s fingers into her mouth so that she wouldn’t moan too loud as she came on his cock.

Spencer shuttered at the feeling, fucking into her with vigour as he tried to hold in his own moans. Sounding more like a whimper when he finally came, spilling into her with the force of a Mack truck.

He dropped against her body then, breathing deep into her neck. She wrapped her legs around him tightly, holding him inside of her so nothing slipped out. “Fuck.”

“I love you,” Spencer breathed against her skin.

She ran her fingers through his hair softly before kissing his forehead. “I love you more.”

They stayed like that for a while, only pulling apart finally to get cleaned up. Spencer turned back on the light, helping her to the bathroom quietly before stripping the sheets off the bed.

She returned to a freshly made bed and a dressed Spencer waiting for her. She put her shorts and a t-shirt back on, slipping into bed and cuddling into him once more. Having to look presentable for when the kids eventually came running into their room at 7 am.

She sighed into his embrace, smiling softly against his skin. “What was that Buddha quote you told me all those years ago?”

“When you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making. So always appreciate and be kind to each other,” Spencer replied softly.

“Goodnight, Spence,” she kissed his jaw softly as she snuggled in closer.

“Goodnight, bunny.”

the end

[sunflowerim]

I LOVE YOU 3000!

-PART 40

Weekend 7

Harry reached sharply at 8 and was warmly greeted by Lux who couldn't stop smiling. Theo was playing with Cliff and upon seeing Harry, both of them ran to him at once.

"Will Cliff be joining us?" Harry asked, scratching Clifford behind the ears.

"No," replied Theo sadly, "he is not allowed, so we're dropping him at the dog sitters place."

"Aww Cliffy we'll miss you,'' Harry patted Clifford before looking around for Louis.

Louis emerged right then from the room wearing an unbuttoned sap green shirt over a plain white tee, sunglasses hooked in the t-shirt, chocolate brown fringe falling over his eyes. He looked beautiful.

Louis caught him staring but was awestruck himself to do anything about it. Harry stood in front of him wearing a pink shirt with white polka dots, buttons half undone (as always) and sunglasses atop his head, tangled in his curls.

They stared at each other without even moving a muscle when Theo and Lux started aggressively tugging Louis, breaking the moment.

"C'mon uncle Lou, let's goooooo."

"We're getting LATE!"

Within fifteen minutes, all of them were seated in Louis' car driving to the dog sitters house. The car speaker was playing 'Do you wanna build a snowman' on Theo's insistence and after dropping Clifford, they were driving off to the wonders that awaited them.

Harry waited with the kids as Louis went ahead to buy the tickets. Once they got the tickets, they stood with a group and a tour guide greeted them.

"Hello and welcome to the Warner Bros Studios- the making of Harry Potter. I'm gonna walk you through the sets and--"

Harry was distracted by Louis practically bobbing with excitement next to him. Soon the guide led them into the studio and they stood in a wide hall, at the centre of which a statue of the Gringott's dragon was suspended.

People around them were buzzing around and clicking pictures. Even Louis took out his phone and with great concentration took a picture if the dragon. From there, they were led to a set up of the inside of privet drive and the cupboard under the stairs.

"Oh my god, Theo look Harry's room," Lux pulled Theo out of the crowd to show him what she'd seen.

Next they went inside the great hall where and it was magnificent. Harry had seen the Harry Potter movies, but wasn't that deeply invested in them. But Louis. Let's just say Harry had come to visit the place with three kids and not two. Louis couldn't contain his excitement at all. He took in everything with eager eyes, took pictures randomly and every now and then Harry could hear him murmur "wish I was a wizard."

Slowly they walked through a lot more sets each as exciting as the last one. From the Gryffindor common room, boys dorm, Hagrid's hut, potions & herbology classroom, leaky cauldron, to the various shops of Diagon Alley, each captured the attention of the crowd and made everyone's jaw drop. They had a difficult time in the forbidden forest, where huge spiders kept appearing every now and then, scaring Theo and Lux, and Louis had to keep explaining that those weren't real.

There was a particular emotional moment when Louis was brought to tears by a stuffed werewolf because it reminded him of Remus Lupin. Both Lux and Theo, along with Harry had to console him afterwards. He had barely recovered when they were faced with a abstract statue of Sirius Black and Louis was sad again.

Soon it was time for lunch and they found some nice seats in the in-studio restaurant and ate to their fullest. Louis and Harry even tried butterbeer and Louis declared this should be available at all regular clubs too.

After lunch, they were led towards the Hogwarts Express and Harry took pictures of Lux, Theo and Louis one by one in front of the 9¾ platform. In another section, tourists could dress up in Hogwarts robes and sit on a broomstick and record videos and of course all three of them did.

All of them were amazed at the props section. Each and every prop used in the movies was placed in glass boxes and they looked so realistic, it'd make one think that they were actually in the wizarding world.

Walking around the wizarding world set up they didn't even notice the time and soon it was almost evening.

The tour was almost over and their last stop was the merch shop. Upon entering the merch shop, nobody moved for a few seconds. They were taken aback by the variety of items that had been stacked up for sale. Louis bought Lux and Theo a wand each and they couldn't stop waving it around even for a second. He himself wanted to buy a Gryffindor quidditch costume, which earned a tease from Harry,

"Fancy seeing you go to work in these."

"Don't be silly Harry, it's for Halloween."

At the end he settled for a Gryffindor t-shirt and bought robes for the twins instead. Hufflepuff for Theo and Gryffindor for Lux.

Louis even made Harry take the Sorting Hat quiz right there, so he could buy him something. Hufflepuff.

"Yay, Harry you're with me," said Theo running to hug him.

Harry wouldn't buy a robe so Louis got him a t-shirt too.

They also bought a Hogwarts poster for the twins' bedroom at Louis' (because their mum wouldn't let them put up so many posters in the room in their own house and well Louis is the cool uncle so he'll obviously buy it for them).

On their way out they bought loads of chocolates and in his excitement, Louis didn't notice that Harry was lingering a little longer at the payment desk.

It was a wholesome day and it left them exhausted but happy.

After exiting the studio, Louis drove them to his favourite restaurant for dinner. The twins were staying with them tonight and had insisted Harry stay back too. Harry readily agreed and Louis was the happiest.

Theo had fallen asleep in Harry's lap and Lux in Louis' and the two of them slowly climbed the stairs to the apartment carrying the kids in their arms.

After reaching the apartment, Louis woke them up for a while to brush their teeth while Harry got them ready for bed. As Harry and Louis tucked them in their bed, they both said their goodnights in sleepy murmurs.

Harry was feeling tired too and went to the guest room (which had begun to look like his room) after wishing Louis goodnight.

As Harry settled in the bed, he took out his phone, deciding to post some pictures.

As he finished posting some pictures, he noticed that Louis had put up some stories on Instagram too. He was amused by the excitement which was radiating off of Louis' stories. He really was a kid at heart.

Harry was about to keep his phone down and go to sleep when he noticed that Louis had posted a picture. He quickly scrolled up and when he saw what Louis had posted, his breath hitched.

Harry will never know what possessed him at that moment that he jumped out of bed and pulled the blue wrapped packet from under the bed, deciding to go to Louis' room at once. He grabbed a clean t-shirt (which belonged to Louis) from the bedside drawer and at once made his way across to Louis' door. Clutching the packet tightly in one hand, he softly knocked.

Harry waited for about 2 seconds before the door was opened by Louis, still shirtless.

"What happened Harry? Did you need something?" Louis asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

"No, --um yeah, I mean- I wanted to give you something," Harry replied waving the packet slightly.

"Oh come in."

They made their way to the bed when Louis seemed to remember he wasn't wearing a shirt and quickly dived into the drawers for one. Harry's brows furrowed in frustration when he saw Louis putting on a black tank top and coming over to sit next to him.

"What did you get me?"

"See for yourself," Harry said handing the packet to Louis.

"You didn't have to," Louis continued, carefully opening the packet, "When did you even--"

Louis paused midway, opening the box in the packet, gaping at the content inside. "Harry, you-- I-- you- thanks wow, I mean- how did you-", he tried forming a coherent sentence while picking up the carved wooden wand from the box.

Harry chuckled quietly, "I saw how intently you were learning the wand choreography. It's only fair that you have one too."

Louis flung himself on Harry, knocking the breath out of his lungs, "thank you so much, I love this."

Harry hugged him back tightly, trying to steal as much warmth as he could before he had to let go.

Louis let go after a few seconds, face flushed and went back to examining the wand. Harry watched Louis' eyes sparkle as he held out his wand and tried out some moves. Louis couldn't stopped smiling and that made Harry's insides flutter.

After a while, Harry decided it best to leave, "So I'll leave you to your devices. Goodnight."

Harry got up to leave but was stopped by Louis tugging the hem of his t-shirt.

"You could stay if you want," Louis said, ducking his head down.

"Here?" Harry asked, unsure, not letting his hopes get the better of him.

"Here," Louis replied looking up, holding Harry's gaze.

"Um okay."

Harry sat back on the bed as Louis shifted around to remove his clothes from the bed. Harry moved back in the bed and leaned against the headboard. Louis joined him soon and for a few moments both were quiet, not knowing what to say. The silence wasn't uncomfortable though.

Louis had kept the windows open which let in the cool summer breeze and Harry felt at peace listening to the sound of crickets with Louis beside him.

Louis started first-

"I saw that you posted a picture of me from your main."

"Yes."

"Wouldn't that be a problem?"

"Why? I can hang out with my friends."

Friends

Harry quickly tried to correct himself after seeing the look on Louis' face, "Not that I consider you one-- I mean-- yes I do, but not in that way, you know-- I mean-"

"It's okay Harry. I know," Louis replied, relaxing once again and slowly sliding down the bed, lying flat on his back.

Harry watched him as the moonlight settled on the curves of his face, and watched as his eyelids fluttered slowly, the moonlight dancing in the shadows of his eyelashes.

Harry tangled his fingers with Louis' half afraid that Louis would remove his hand but Louis just tightened the grip.

"Thanks for today," Harry hummed so slowly, that Louis missed him.

"Hmm?"

"Thanks for today," Harry said, a little louder this time, "for everything actually."

Louis craned his neck upward to look at Harry's face and said, "Someone's being sappy today."

Harry smiled and slid down himself, propped himself on his left elbow, head resting on his hand and looked down at Louis. "Well you make me one."

"You make me one too."

If Harry could choose one moment to relive over and over again, it would probably be this, him lying beside Louis, their fingers intertwined and his face hovering inches above Louis'.

They gazed at each and even in the dim moonlight that had filtered in the room, they could see every inch of each others face clearly and suddenly without a warning Harry leaned in and kissed Louis.

Louis' brain short circuited and he froze for a second before giving in. Harry astounded by his own courage didn't waste time in climbing on top of Louis and taking his breath away.

Harry could feel the butterfly convention in his stomach going feral.

Louis let out a nervous laugh when they stopped to catch their breaths. Harry's curls were all over his face and Louis brought his hand up tuck the wild curls behind his ears.

"Harry are you sure?" he managed between ragged breaths.

"Yes," Harry replied, his voice strained.

"But-" Louis stopped, not knowing how to say it.

"Oh god," Harry groaned, "you're gonna make me say it aren't you? Yes Louis Tomlinson, I want this, if it wasn't clear enough. Just that-" he paused, "you're the first-"

"-bloke you're snogging?" Louis completed with an all knowing smile.

"I would have framed it better, but I guess that works too."

With that Harry closed the gap between them again, hands fiddling with the fabric of Louis' shirt which he managed to pull off in a few minutes.

"Shouldn't have put it on," Harry murmured in between their kisses.

Louis tangled his hands in Harry's hair and tugged at it in response.

"I love seeing you in my shirt," Louis said, rolling them over, settling on top of Harry, legs straddling Harry's hips, "but right now, I'd like for it to disappear."

Louis grabbed his wand from the bedside table and pointing it down at Harry, said "Evanesco!"

Harry watched in amusement as the boy above him, held a wand out and incanted a vanishing spell in the middle of a heated moment. Trust Louis to be dramatic. Louis' eyes glistened in the dim light and Harry obliged instantly. Louis leaned in on Harry and they got into their rhythm again, slowly discovering every inch of each other's skin, neither willing to let go.

--

When Harry woke next morning, he pleased to find himself on top of Louis' chest, listening to his heartbeat and feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of Louis' belly underneath his hand. He slowly got up, careful not to wake Louis up and got off the bed, planting a kiss on Louis' forehead and made for the bathroom. He quickly freshened up, and returned to the room, to find Louis sitting up, with his back facing the window, sunlight slipping in through the curtains and illuminating his back. Louis smiled sleepily and beckoned Harry to come over. Harry started making his way over to him but suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"Stay here, don't move, I'll be back."

He dashed out of Louis' room and into the guest room and returned a minute later with his phone.

"Can I take a picture?"

"What?" Louis laughed in disbelief. "You can't be serious, I'm in my boxers."

"That won't matter. You look beautiful."

A slow blush spread across Louis' face and Harry took that as a cue to move forward. He stood at the end of the bed on Louis' right side and with great concentration took a picture.

"Let me have a look" Louis asked.

"Nuh, uh. You'll see when it's time."

Louis pouted his lips in faux sadness which earned a kiss from Harry.

"Now freshen up, the twins will be up anytime soon."

Inside the shower, Louis couldn't stop thinking about last night. He could feel a stupid grin spread on his face everytime he thought about Harry.

God. He might be in love.

Louis emerged into the drawing room and an amazing smell of pancakes wafted into his nose.

"Hey how'd you know?" Louis asked, making his way over to the kitchen and climbing on top of the kitchen counter.

"Huh? --oh this? Lux told me. Pancakes. Household favourite."

"You're spoiling them."

"You're one to talk," Harry raised an eyebrow at Louis and had to force his thoughts from wanting to kiss Harry again to the delicious pancakes being cooked.

The twins absolutely adored Harry and wouldn't let him leave even after breakfast. Lot's of negotiations and promises later, they finally agreed to let Harry leave. Louis walked him to the door and as Harry was leaving, he reached out and held his hand.

"Um, you do realise that we've watched 21 out of 22 movies and it's just week 7?"

"So what? If you thought you'll get rid of me after a few calculated weeks, you're wrong mister. I think we established that already."

"Yeah, I was just checking if it stands," Louis replied sheepishly.

"After yesterday, you don't have to worry," Harry said, moving closer and pressing a chaste kiss on Louis' lips.

And he was off.

Louis would have stood in the doorway for a little longer if the sound of giggles behind him didn't break his train of thoughts.

Lux and Theo were peering around from the couch and had apparently witnessed the display of affection.

"Are you going to marry him uncle Lou?" Theo asked, his expressions a mix of glee and confusion.

"No Theo, put your mind to rest," Louis ruffled Theo's hair.

"Do you love him? Like mommy and daddy?"

Louis smiled at that, "I don't know Lux, maybe ask Harry, next time you see him."

Lux beamed at that and soon Louis was getting the twins ready to be picked up by their mum.

Louis' sister actually stayed for an hour and they talked about all sorts if stuff, catching up on things they'd missed in each other's lives. Louis thought for a moment of he should tell her about Harry but then decided against it. It was too soon.

No sooner had all of them left, when Louis got a notification of a new post from Harry's private instagram. He quickly opened it and what he saw took his breath away again. Harry seemed to be doing that quite often.

Harry Styles was going to be the death of him.

-----

Note : first of all I'm so sorry for the late update, my college schedule is all packed up ugh -_- Secondly I've never been to Warner Bros Studios myself, so excuse the narration!

PREVIOUS / NEXT

INTRO

[hinac0lada]

debunked

RISS’ NOTE: a small drabble for my grande king<3 happy bday bubu i’m so proud of u and i lob u mwa

ALEX’S NOTE: the flavor of this drabble is, chef’s kiss 3000x

CHARACTER PAIRING: oikawa tooru/f!reader

WC: 2.1k

WARNING/s: nsfw/smut, pegging, some dirty talk, femdom,  mommy kink (tooru n reader are aged up)

as always, nsfw will be under the cut!

your sex life with oikawa was beyond one of equipose. you meet each other's needs and desires, aftercare is always the best, and all was roses and peonies. but sometimes, people like to be nosy and assume things about your sex life, putting unnecessary expectations on the two of you. it was all fun and games and you'd usually brush it off, but there was just this one assumption that irked you the most.

‘you think (name) could ever dom oikawa?’

‘with her looks? no way. a total sub.’

who were they to assume your sense of dominance just based on your looks? you weren’t exactly insecure, but for some reason, the comment disturbed you in ways you would’ve never imagined. it ignited this burning passion, this desire to prove them wrong. to debunk all those theories - that were undoubtedly wrong.

and so this leads to the both of you to start this conversation that is taking place in your shared bedroom.

“soo, pegging right?” oikawa cups a hand on his chin as his expression turns into one of contemplating his decision.

“can’t say i’ve tried it before.”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms as you stare him down. “you don’t have to do it if you aren’t ready, babe.” he scoffs at this, jutting out his bottom lip as his face scrunches up in protest.

“i’ve been ready, baby-”

“but are you sure?” you cut him off with a concerned yet somewhat shy look, tone full of wary. he chuckles at this, any sign of teasing gone as he takes your hands to cradle them close to his chest.

“there’s no one else i’d trust with this more than you, love.” a faint blush blooms from the soft gesture, still maintaining eye contact with the brunette. you give a small smile, pleased with his answer.

“i’m glad. there’s no turning back after this, okay?” he gives a firm nod at this, beaming. “mhm! i’ll get my turn after right?”

you pull away, standing up as you reply with a giggle. “of course, tooru. as many rounds as you like.” he silently cheers at this, stripping off his shirt and shorts as he sends you a bashful look.

“mind you, i haven’t really done this before so… be gentle, baby?” you stripped along with him, dropping the articles of clothing on the floor. “no promises babe, but i’ll try,” you cast a small wink with a cheeky grin.

“what should our code be?”

“our safe word could be emerald?” he suggests, now free of his clothes as he kicked them away with his feet. you nod and made your way to the cabinet where the stuff you needed was stored in. “emerald it is.”

you rummage around the cabinet to look for the strap, smiling lightly to yourself. “i won’t lie, i’m kinda nervous,” he hums at this, dipping by your shared bed as he patiently waits for you to retrieve the godly piece of silicone about to be placed right up his ass. if you enjoy it, who was he to complain? 

“you and me both, love. but do let me prep up - do we have any lube around?” 

“i think we do! try checking the bedside table,” you looked over your shoulder, eyes leading to the said furniture before turning back to search for the device. he wordlessly turns his gaze over to the mentioned furniture, hands trailing over the drawer and pulling it, noticing the required item they needed for preparation. he takes it out, pleased that there was still a generous amount inside the container. “i got it.”

“nice, well.. i found it,” you stood up, turning to face the male, teasingly displaying the main star of tonight's show. “isn't it a beauty?” he turns his gaze towards the plastic dildo, giving it a once over with a small snicker. his dick was still bigger after all.

“how cute.” he comments. you roll your eyes, letting out a small giggle as you walked over to where he was situated, giving a gentle kiss on his forehead. “your dick is still bigger, yes. don’t let it get to your head.”

“it should be basic knowledge,” oikawa leans in to snag a kiss from your lips before handing the bottle of lube over to you. “prep me up, baby.”

“alright, tiger,” you opened up the bottle full of lubricant, coating a generous amount on your fingers before sitting down in front of him, pulling him closer. “tell me when it hurts baby, i don't want to hurt you okay?”

he gives a nod, leaning in to kiss her cheek as he shuffles even closer. “mhm, i will. emerald, okay?” he asks again for reassurance.

“emerald,” and with that, you slowly insert a single digit inside his tight hole, peppering kisses along his neck; occasionally sucking on certain spots. he lets a small grunt escape his lips, the unfamiliar but somewhat pleasurable feeling of fingers moving around his butthole was foreign but he takes it nonetheless. pleasured sighs fanned over your head as he let you mark his neck.

“do you feel good, baby?” you mutter in between kisses, leaving love bites on his neck, butterfly kisses tracing his jawline. you took pleasure in hearing the sighs of your beloved, enough to spur you on even more as you felt the slight throb of your core in between your legs.

“y-yes, love-” he grunts, feeling your long, nimble fingers stretch his puckered hole in order to prepare him for what was to come. “more, baby. i want more,” 

“hmm? i didn't quite hear you baby,” you purred in his ear, a smirk gracing your facial features. it was kinda like payback at this point, recalling the times oikawa would edge you until you’re in tears. 

“you have to earn it first,” you added on, slowing the pace of your fingers to a more painstakingly slow one much to your delight. he whines lightly, hands dipping down to rake his fingernails on the side of your thighs, rubbing his growing erection against your knee.

“please,” he swallows, feeling himself loosen up. “f-fuck me, mommy. please, i want you to fuck me-” he gasps at the slow thrusts of your fingers, feeling himself shiver at the feeling. 

“good boy, you're doing great darling,” you placed a kiss on his lips, free hand making its way to his pulsing cock, slowly rubbing the head in the process. you gradually quickened the pace of your fingers.

“how do you want me to fuck you tonight baby?”

“fuck me with- with your strap-” he stutters out, feeling his cock twitch against your hand, groaning out praise and pleas as he shuddered in your hold. you couldn't help but chuckle at the state he was in, seeing as he's enjoying himself. you insert another finger inside his tight walls, pace quickening as you multitasked with fingering his hole and giving him a hand job. “loose enough yet, tooru?”

he shivers once more, a flushed expression adorning his pale skin. “y-yeah, i think i'm ready now..” 

“alrighty!” you exclaimed, a little too excited - the giddiness that you felt was overwhelming as you knelt on your knees, adjusting the little device that you were wearing. 

“get on your knees and let me see that cute little ass,” you snicker, patting his rear as he got on all fours. he gave you a look as turned around, getting on the position you requested of him. he turns his head to the side, admiring your profile from his doggy style pose he was under.

you position yourself in front of his hole, [e.c] irises meeting with his own, the glint in your eyes telling stories of excitement. “you ready for me, baby?” he grunts in affirmation, bracing himself. “yes,”

“yes what?” you smack his ass lightly, hard enough to hurt but not enough to leave a mark. he yelps at this, the slightly pleasurable burn tingling his pale asscheeks. 

“y-yes, mommy,” and without hesitation, you slowly let the silicone dildo enter his tight butthole, watching the piece of silicone disappear inside him with amusement. “does it hurt, baby? feel alright?” his grip on the bed sheets tighten, figure shaking a bit at the sudden invasion in his ass. 

“a-a little... just take it slow-” he groaned out, eyes fluttering open.

“i promise babe, just tell me when to move okay?” you lean in to smother the nape of his neck with kisses, caressing his sides to soothe him down. he lets himself have a moment, trying to adjust before he lets out a shaky sigh.

“you can try moving, love. please, make me feel good.” 

“your wish is my command, my pretty boy,” you started thrusting in a slow but steady pace, resuming back to gently bite the nape of his neck to where his sweet spot is. he throws his head back, shuddering at the way your teeth bit down on his neck, knowing exactly where to mark him. “fuck! ahh- more, mommy, more,”

“more, you say?” you pulled out and violently slammed it in again, hoping you didn't hurt him by accident. “shit! fuck yes-” he pants, hole tightening around the strap as his ass slammed against your naked hips.

“how bad do you want it, baby?” you whisper by his ear, before pulling out and thrusting in again, actions getting repetitive. 

“i want it.. so bad-! ram i-it into me, mommy-!”he gasps, ragged breaths leaving his lips as he whines from the pressure building up. you grab onto his hips to control the pace, continuously ramming into his ass, pressing his head down onto the soft mattress. “who makes you feel good like this, baby?” he moans out loud, lewd pleas and erotica echoing left and right as he drowns himself in the pleasure. 

“fuckfuck, you mommy! m-mommy's fucking me so fucking good!”

you quicken the pace at an inhumane speed, the sounds of praises and moans that echoed in the room filled you with excitement, ignoring the tingles on your thighs. “oh yeah? do i fuck you so good to the point you're losing your mind right now?” you emphasize this with a harsh slap on his ass, the impact receiving an immediate reaction from his drunken yelp.

“y-yes, mommy!” he wheezes, feeling his cock twitch from how hard he was of how downright hot the situation was - fucking him like a bitch in heat. “shitshitshit, i-i can't-!” you pull him up using his hair, tugging him close to you, bodies exchanging heat as the room got even more humid. “can't what baby? can't handle this fucking dick inside your ass?” you pant, keeping your pace steady but fast as you bite down on his shoulder.

oikawa arches his back against your breasts, shivering from the heat radiating from their bodies from their aggressive rut. “m-mommy, please- let me cum! i'll be your good boy, i s-swear!” pathetic whines and pleas escaped his lips as his tongue lolled out from his mouth, legs quivering underneath.

“mm, let me think about it, baby,” hearing his whines sent shivers down your spine - one violent thrust after the other, disregarding the weariness you were starting to feel. your only goal was to make him feel good. his cries only grew louder, the pleasurable burn in his butthole catching up to him as he reached down to rub his hard-on, desperate to get off.

“let me help you with that,” you chuckle at his desperation, grabbing his stiff cock to help him reach his climax whilst in the process of catching up to your pace from before. the stimulation from both his cock and asshole was too much, having yet another moan escape from his bruised lips. “fuck, i'm cumming mommy! c-cumming~!” 

“come on baby, cum for mommy,” you pant, sighs escaping your lips before picking up the already fastened and secure pace - ignoring the ache you felt in your legs as you wanted him to reach the climax he’s begged for so nicely. he lets out a few more grunts and moans escape his lips, shaky breaths growing louder as he finally reaches his high, dick spurting out ribbons of cum all over your hands as it dripped to the bed sheets.

after thrusting a few more times, you stopped with a shaky sigh, bringing up the hand previously jacking him off to your mouth to lick up his cum, humming in satisfaction. “you taste so good, my good boy,”

he shivers, panting as he drops down to the bed, spent from being pegged. “th-thank you, mommy,” you remove the dirty strap, stretching a bit to ease the friction from your stiff joints, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead before getting up to clean the hot mess. 

“you did great, my love. i'll run you a bath, okay?” he hums in approval, moving to sit up from the bed. he felt sticky and dirty after all. “alrighty~”

after a few minutes of prepping a hot bath for your lover, you came back from the bathroom and kissed his once bruised lips. “thank you for this, tooru. i love you.”

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[altagraye]

Faith  miniseries (part 1)

**T. W.!!: self harm, suicidal thoughts, self doubt, sad reader.

*this is my first xreader ever so i hope it aint sloppy. 💋

There were very few things that scared the Winchesters but tonight their fear was palpable. Most of the time they were passive and observant. Even Dean didn't want to open that can of worms. Ever since that hunt a few weeks ago, the one no one talked about on the 2 day drive home, something with you has been wrong. Like you got your wires crossed and you haven't been the same since. It has been gradual, like watching someone sinking in quicksand or dying of cancer.  

You weren't stupid, you could tell that they have been distantly observing you as if you had a ticking time bomb strapped to your torso at all times. You noticed the change of mood in the kitchen when you'd finally gotten yourself out of bed to grab a cup of coffee. It's like your presence sucked the life out of a room, much like a Dementor from Harry Potter. You didn't know which hurt more, the deafening silence, the obvious coaxed smiles from Sam, or the steady stares from Dean when your back was turned. Sometimes when you were awake enough, you heard the brothers arguing about something, you'd tricked yourself to overhear certain words in their heated arguments, and convinced yourself they hadn't been arguing about you. But they clearly were.  

Cas, the usual flat faced stoic of the Bunker had twinges of concern in his oceanic orbs. Were you that messed up? That a fuckin' angel was concerned about you? What the hell happened? It started with that hunt. That much you know, right? Maybe it started before that? When it did sink in, you started to spend much more time cooped up in your room. You liked the softness of your bed and the warmth of your bed-covers. Suddenly you didn't want to go...anywhere. You spent your days sleeping and struggling to keep your eyes open enough to hear what Sam had conjured up about a potential case. The nights, those were the worst though. In the night you couldn't get to sleep if you tried. And that was when you felt most alone. You hated being awake, if you were awake you were thinking. And thinking means remembering just how much of a screw up you knew you were.

Team Free Will just came back from a hunt which you had to pull teeth just to get to stay in the confines of the Bunker. It had been a few days. You don't remember the last time you ate. Was it when you ate the second to last slice of apple pie in the middle of the night when your insomnia was at its peak? Or was that this evening when you woke up to a grumbling stomach that you couldn't ignore, so you quelled it with warm chicken broth. You didn't feel deserving enough to eat solid food today. Your lips were cracked and severely chapped even though you knew you kept your lip balm in the bedside table, within reach. Your long hair is disheveled in its bun and you can't stop sneezing because you forgot to take your medicine today, again. What a failure. You can't take care of yourself. It would be so much better if you could just lay down in your bed and sleep. Sleep and dream, forever.  

Face it, the Winchesters are so much better without you. Dean doesn't need you burdening him. He would only have to carry your dead weight around on cases. You can't even muster up the courage to walk up to houses and round up info on the local legends, doing door-to-door sweeps. What in all Hell makes you think Dean could be attracted to someone, some frail little girl trapped in the past? You weren't his type anyhow, a plus-sized book worm didn't turn him on. How could it? You saw his porno-mags. Those girls were, perfection. Miles away from what you were. They were tall, sculpted shades of golden skin. They were the definition of success, confidence, beauty. Qualities you'd convinced yourself you weren't. You saw their type in multiple bartenders that you painfully watched Dean flirt with. From your table at the bar, it stung to see Dean's pearly whites brighten in the lights of the illuminated bar. His expression full of child-like glee, effortless and innocent. Sam was next to you for protection, his face buried in his tablet searching diligently through lore and articles of missing peoples.  

You shuffle your feet audibly into the kitchen. Even though you don't feel like eating, you need to eat at least a sandwich in Dean's presence. The brothers were sipping beer at the table in the kitchen while you fixed yourself a wimpy pb & j. Sitting down at the very edge of the metal table you stared for a long moment at your sandwich. I hate this, it's making me sick to even look at food, you think to yourself. You take a bite and chew slowly, wanting so hard to spit it out. You're too fat already. Why do you eat in the first place? Those thoughts stew in your head as you notice the Winchester brothers are staring at you. You notice someone is talking to you but it doesn't register. You swallow the bite unwillingly, closing your eyes like you had just done something terrible.  

"Y/N? Earth to Y/N?" You recognize the husk in the voice to be Dean's. You flinch and look at him, wishing immediately you hadn't stared into those perfect green orbs. The expression on his face let you know that he knew there was definitely something wrong with you. God you're such a freak. You drag your tongue on your left canine, the one that has always been particularly sharp. Feeling a cold sweat begin to drip down your neck, you start to panic. You drop your sandwich on its plate and rise from your seat. You need the sanctuary of your messy bedroom, the softness of the mattress. You need the coolness of the sheets. Your small feet tap the tile of the floor beneath you but you notice sound behind you that will your body to go faster. They were following after you.  

You'd never been more afraid that they'd find out what was in your head. That Dean would find out how you felt about him and about yourself. That can't be an option. You knew what would be next, what was inevitable. The dreaded talk. You finally reach the knob of your bedroom door, your palm slipping as you fumble with it from sweating. Just as they are about to reach you, you open the door and slam it shut behind you, locking it. You heart is racing against your chest. Locking the door isn't enough. So you barricade the door with your dresser. As you do so, you feel yourself breaking and hot tears flow down your face soaking into your hoodie.  

"Y/N?! C'mon, open the door." Sam says.

"Whatever it is we can talk about it. Y/N. Please?" Dean's tone is almost unlike him. You'd only ever heard him use this kind of tone with children who were in the midst of trauma from an awry hunt. Is that what he thought of you as? A wounded child in need of coddling? Or maybe even worse, a wounded animal.

You don't answer and there is a long pause. You need relief and release in the only way you know how. You rummage through your bedside table drawer and find a thin hunting knife, the one Dean gave you a few years ago. Your first gift from him. You pull down the fleece-like fabric of your sweatpants to reveal scars, left over from self-inflicted pain, years gone by. They were raised and pink lines. They wouldn't understand. You hear thudding from the other side of your door, that can only mean the brothers are getting more desperate, using their bodyweight to try and get inside.  

"Y/N!!" Dean yells for you in between the thudding.  

"GO AWAY!" You yell as you drag the sharpness across your skin. Red bubbles up from the cut and for a few seconds you feel relief. But it doesn't stop the pain. You cry more, sobbing uncontrollably. The salty tears blurring your vision until they spill over staining your cheeks. You need more, so you add more cuts, one by one. Oddly you chuckled at your macabre artwork, thinking you just made your thigh look like a piece of lined paper. You start your work on the opposite thigh, digging in a little deeper with each line.  

You hear someone suck in a breath sharply. Someone was in the room with you. During your release, you never noticed the dresser move or the door opening. Looking up from your bloodied thighs you see Dean staring back at you. His blade still in your hand, red dripping down your skin and slipping into the pure white sheets.  

"Y/N? Hey, that's okay. Put the knife down, alright?" He said to you smiling at you flashing his bright white impeccable teeth, Sam in the background of your bedroom doorway with his hand clasped over his mouth in a blank stare. More tears sear themselves into your eyes and flood over. Your lips are quivering. You drop your knife released from your trembling hand, it thunks itself into the wooden floor below. You don't dare look back at Dean. You curl yourself up as best as possible granted the size of your stomach won't let you pull your knees to your chest.

You collapse onto your bed facing your pillows, you sob into them and hold one tight to your face in a feeble attempt to hide yourself. You feel Dean sit next to you on the bed, and he begins to stroke your back in soothing motions. His effortless acts of kindness make you break more. You feel the onset of a nasty headache forming, from the intensity of your sobbing. You can barely make out Dean telling Sam to bring a first aid kit and water. Dean shushes you and continues to stroke your back and your arm.

"You don't have to tell me anything. Just take deep breaths, 'kay? Here, I'll do it too." He breathes deep in and out, hard enough to be audible. Why was he so nice to me all of a sudden?? You begin to feel numb, and you weren't sure if this was from the emotional break down or the blood loss. Had you cut too deep this time? Sam returns with the first aid kit. You note its metal clink on the bedside table. You unbury your face from your pillow only to get a breath of fresh air. You don't look at Dean or Sam. You couldn't. Dean thanks his younger brother for the glass of water and the kit.  

"Can you give us a minute Sammy?" Dean asks.

"Sure. As long as you need." Sam confirms and you hear the heavy footed thuds of his boots exit your room. Dean does something that you don't expect. He lays down on his side, with you. Spooning up against your form. You mentally whack yourself in the head, he's getting his jeans all bloody, that you're sure of. He continues to stroke your arm softly. He hooks his chin into the nook of your shoulder.

"Whenever you're ready. I'm all ears." He tells you, the gentleness in his tone brings you to tears again. You weep silently. Was this really happening? You don't budge or say a word as sleep takes you over and you feel so amazingly content. You melt into the rhythmic breaths that Dean takes. The act soothes you into dreamland. For the first time in a while you think, I want to wake up to him next to me. And you swear you smile in your slumber.

End part 1.

*criticism is taken constructively.

*comments are golden.

[juulcharg3r]

Why’d It Have to Be Hermione?

Summary: Your boyfriend and best friend suck. Based on the song Hailey by WRENN

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Girlfriend!Reader 

Word Count: 2,030

WARNINGS: Swearing, cheating, angst I suppose (I don't think I'm very good at making things sad outside my own brain oops)

Same day, same night

Always feeling our fights

Like a fire in an empty house

Gone off somewhere

All I know is you’re not here

You think I’d have learned by now

 You had had a premonition that this birthday wasn't going to be as pleasant as the last three with Ron had been. Maybe it was the rain, though you usually rather quite liked the rain, or maybe it was the screaming match you were currently having with your boyfriend of four years. 

“Are you kidding me, Ronald? It's my BIRTHDAY!” You’d been with Ron since your days in Hogwarts, since 5th year, and he had never missed your birthday before.

“Bloody Hell, Y/N, it's not like I can control it! It's an emergency meeting, I have to go.”

“You promised we would spend the whole day together.” 

“And we will! Just not right now. I have to go.” You watch Ron grab his wand and bag and head towards the door, “I’ll see you later.”

“Fine. I love y-” The door slams, effectively cutting you off. “Great. Best birthday ever.” You let yourself fall backwards onto the bed you shared with your boyfriend, “The Dark Lord is dead. What the fuck could they possibly be having a meeting about at 6A.M.?” 

You stew in your thoughts, your anger slowly subsiding. Maybe you were being unreasonable. Ron was right, he couldn’t control when they had meetings. You were just hurt because he always had meetings and had canceled many dates for them. You just wanted to spend your birthday with him, to have one day where he spent the entire day with you and all his focus was on you for once. 

Eventually you sit up and mope downstairs to make yourself coffee to wake up. There was no point in trying to get a few more hours of sleep, not after a fight with Ron. They always left you feeling empty and you were left sitting alone in a desolate house. 

It was awful. Constantly fighting with Ron about the littlest things, about the stupidest things. It had been going on for months and it was always the same. Ron would either miss a date or one of you would do the littlest thing, then you’d fight, he’d leave and go somewhere, and you’d cry yourself to sleep in the spare bedroom. He would come home eventually (he always did), though you never knew when and if you’d ask he would say he went to the pub and then things would go back to normal between you two. 

But when you would do laundry the next day, you'd notice his clothes would never spell like the cigarettes and beers that normally came along with a trip to the pub. 

The fights would eat you alive. For days after you would feel awful, like you were being burned from the inside out. The arguing left you feeling empty inside but as if you were on fire. You were like an empty house on fire, nothing inside to burn but the structure was slowly but surely succumbing to the flames. 

“Why haven’t I learned?” 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Ron finally came home, six hours later. There was no way in hell a meeting lasted six hours, but you were tired of arguing. 

“Hey, Baby.” Ron grins at you as he walks in and kisses you on the lips. 

‘Hey!” You smile tightlipped at the man you love, “How was the meeting?” He seemed to be in much better spirits than he had been this morning.

“It was fine.” Came the simple response.

“Oh, what was it about?”

“Y/N you know I can’t tell you that.”

“Right…” You trailed off before you remembered your original plans for today and became excited again, “Well do you still want to go to the art museum? I want to see the new exhibit on Picasso!” 

“I’m tired from the meeting and I just want to relax. I’m going to nap before dinner tonight, Babe, you go without me.”

“What? The whole point was… Okay. Fine.” You accio your wand and wallet and apparate to The National Gallery in Muggle London. “Fucking piece of shit,” you stomp into the gallery, but the sight of the paintings quickly erases your anger. You had always loved art and were impressed by the skills that some people hold. You could see their passion in the brushstrokes and the feelings poured into the paint.

 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 Eventually you made your way to the exhibit on Pablo Picasso. Something about his art just spoke to you, you weren’t sure what it was. 

An hour and a half later, you thought you had seen all his work encased in the exhibit until in the back corner of the room you saw it. A painting you had never seen before entitled The Melancholy Woman. 

You stood staring at it with an air of familiarity, though this was the first time you had laid eyes on it. You realized it was because you had been sitting in the same position all this morning. After getting your coffee you had spent several hours sitting on your couch facing the window but not looking out. You instead wallowed in self-pity wondering what had happened between you and Ron that caused all the fighting. 

“Oh my god.” Faced with the reality of your own sadness you all but ran out of the gallery and to a good spot to apparate home. 

 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 You say she’s just a friend, well okay

Why’s she showing up at midnight on my birthday?

Why’s she crying in your arms looking a mess?

And you’re looking at me like you gotta confess

Not the first time you held her

 You were home now and were curled up next to Ron on the couch watching your favorite movie. Ron was stroking your hair and you felt lighter than you had in months. You and Ron had had a wonderful evening at dinner, for the first time in a long time. You went to your favorite restaurant and laughed all night long, but the sense of foreboding from this morning lingered. You shook off the feeling and thought maybe your premonition was wrong and you were just being silly, nothing bad had happened after you came back from the art gallery. 

Then the doorbell rang. 

You and Ron look at each other weirdly, who was showing up at your house this late at night? You both pad to the door, Ron looks through the peephole and then opens the door with hesitance, “Mione? What are you doing here? It’s nearly midnight.” Hermione, your best friend since second year, looked like a mess, her hair was knotted, and clothes wrinkled. 

The foreboding feeling that had been licking at you all night was now crashing over your entire body. 

Hermione was crying and was well past ruining her mascara, “I... I don't know.” Then she threw herself into your boyfriend's arms and started sobbing violently. 

You were too shocked to move. What do you do in this situation? Your best friend was sobbing in his chest at midnight on your birthday. You were about to ask if she was okay when Ron looked at you and the expression turned your blood to ice. He looked like he was about to confess something horrible to you and you knew then that this wasn’t the first time this had happened. This wasn’t the first time he had held her, crying and not. 

You took a step back, shaking your head, “No no no no no. You didn’t. No-”

“Y/N let me explain!”

“No, you fucking didn’t. This is a lie. This can't be real. Did you really? Are you serious? With her?”

“Baby please,” Ron untangles himself from Hermione and leaves her on the floor to approach you. 

You hold out your hands to stop him from getting closer, “Did you even have a meeting today? Or were you just with her? Were any of these ‘emergency meetings’ real or were they just excuses to go see her?”

“Y/N…”

The sound of your name on his lips told you everything you needed to know, “That's what I thought.” You glare at him with more anger and sadness than he thought possible, “And on my fucking birthday. Fuck you, Ron Weasley.” You dash upstairs to the bedroom you once shared with your boyfriend. 

 Mascara stains dripping down your t-shirt

Now I’m packing a bag, but I gotta ask

Out of everyone, everyone else

Why’d it have to be Hailey?

 You throw clothes blindly into an old, ratty backpack while ignoring as Ron begged you to stay. As you pack you stew in your own thoughts, wanting to scream at him, wanting to punch him in the face, stomp on his head, and just ask why. 

“I gotta ask… Why’d it have to be Hermione?” Your brain was stuck on the mascara stains on his shirt as he stood in the doorway of your bedroom. She ruined everything, both Ron’s shirt and your heart. She was your best friend, how could she? She knows how much you love him.

“W-what?” 

“Out of everyone, everyone else in the entire fucking wizarding world, why did it have to be Hermione?” 

“Y/N, I…” Ron trails off, he doesn’t know the answer to your question. 

“I mean I guess that explains what I heard in the back of Harry and Ginny’s birthday card to me,” you open your bedside table drawer and take out an envelope with a card in it. It's one of those cards where you record a birthday message in your own voice for the recipient. You throw it at your boyfriend and cross your arms. When he opens it, the sound of Ginny and Harry’s voices yelling out greetings and the lyrics to Happy Birthday to You burst out. After their offkey rendition that had initially put a smile on your face, in the background there is the faintest conversation going on. 

“Are you gonna tell her?” The first voice asks. 

“There’s no point.” The second responds. 

“She’s gonna find out eventually.” The first voice presses. 

“I mean it doesn’t matter if she does at this point.” The second voice concludes. Then Harry and Ginny finish their well wishes for you and say goodbye and that they love you. When you first listened to it you thought you were hearing wrong, but after this… There was no mistaking it now, those were the voices of your boyfriend of four years and your best friend of seven years.

 You say that I’ve got it all wrong, but I think I know you better than myself

Don’t you get tired of always playing the victim and running your mouth?

 “No, Baby, no. You- you’ve got this all wrong! I wouldn’t-”

“Ronald, we have been together for too long. I know you better than I know myself sometimes and this is one of those times. You would because you did.”

“No Y/N I didn't I swear!! Hermione came onto me! I love you; you know that! I wouldn't cheat on you, it was an accident, I swear!”

At this point you couldn't hold back the tears and were openly sobbing, “It wasn't an accident, Ronald.”

“YES, IT WAS!”

“Maybe it was an accident the first time, but you chose her over me every time after that. It was a choice that you made and now you have to live with it.” And with that you shove past him, bag and wand in hand and sprint down the stairs. You pause to stare at Hermione who no doubt heard your entire conversation. “I hope you’re happy, Hermione. You got what you wanted.”

“Y/N/N, I’m so sorry-”

“Save it. I do not care what you have to say. I hope you and Ron are very happy together.” You step over her body on the floor, out the door, and out of their lives forever.

 Why’d it have to be Hailey?

Why’d it have to be Hailey?

Out of everyone, everyone else

Out of everyone, everyone else

Why’d it have to be Hailey?

Why’d it have to be Hailey?

FINISHED

[honeypirate]

Figure It Out part six? I think

Hinawa and Fem reader

The one with the week apart. The one with the letter.

This one is shorter

Masterlist

Day 1.

After they leave, you make your way back to his bedroom. You go to crawl into his bed but a note on his desk catches your eye, your name neatly written on the top.

“Y/n, you’ve just left. I have a moment and there’s something I want to say.

I’ve always thought that life was best alone, working for the world and doing your duty because everything ends in flames.

Feelings, I thought they were exhausting and pointless, I liked to live without them. I always failed though, in one way or another. Caring too much for my team, for what my captain needs of me.

Then you came into the eighth and it was like the light was turned on, like the sun rose on me. I was in a dark world but now I have light.

Feelings are exhausting, that idea hasn’t changed. They’re exhausting like the way a kid gets exhausted at the end of a summer day, they come inside sunburned and pleased with their mischief, eager to wake up the next day and do it again.

Y/n, my precious y/n. Thank you. For changing my perspective and opening up my eyes to the happiness I was so desperate for. Thank you for bringing the sun.

I’ll see you soon. I promise. T.H.

Your fingers brush across the small drawing of a flower at the bottom and smile. God you were crazy about him. You felt a little annoyed “not nice Hinawa. You’re just making me miss you more” you sniff and laugh, walking over to his wardrobe and pulling out one of his hoodies to slip on before going back to bed. You had a week of holding down the fort, most lonely nothing will happen and you have approximately two days worth of paperwork. You’re going back to sleep.

When you wake up you go into Obi’s room and pick a record for dinner, a decent rock one with good drums. You tried to snoop through Hinawa’s room but felt too guilty after two drawers of his desk. Cleaning your wound by yourself sucked and added to the reasons why you miss Hinawa.

Day 2.

Make that one day of paperwork.

Today you finished all of your paperwork and actually started some of Arthur’s before you snooped around their desks, not feeling bad for stealing some of their stashes of candy. You walk into Obi‘s office and sit in his chair, spinning around once before opening his bottom drawer, laughing when you see a note that says “don’t drink my good stuff y/n” on top of his saved bottle of whiskey. You shake your head and close the drawer.

You take his sticky notes and a pen, drawing an obvious stick figure picture of Obi lifting weights and at the top you titled it “Captain/Dad of the eighth” you stand and make your way back out, deciding to go raid Obi’s records again for dinner tonight. Your wound sucked to clean and you still miss Hinawa. You were tired of being alone already. Obi called to check in on the coms. Everything was fine for everyone. You went to bed early, reading one of the books you found in Hinawas room before clapping with a chuckle and hugging one of his pillows to your chest.

Day 3.

You had breakfast on the roof today. Basking in the warm sun from the chair you carried out there. You went to the market and got some fresh fruit and vegetables. Talking to the lovely shop owners brought you so much happiness you thought about leaving every day to talk to people so you didn’t have to be alone. You went out to the cafe in town for dinner, talking to the owner who was your friend for a while. Feeling a little better than before. You played cards and ate candy tonight, going a little nuts. You wrap the guitar around your shoulder and played it as you walked, your fingers stinging from rebuilding calluses. You stopped Obi’s office to draw another stick figure but this time of Hinawa, you got him perfectly, titling it ‘HinaMom’ with a little tiny heart.

Day 4.

You’ve started singing to fill the silence. Any song you can, you played your guitar and walked around singing, just hanging out and entertaining yourself. You went into Obi’s room to look through his music book for any rock songs he had you could learn on the guitar, spending the rest of the day learning a song called Bad Company and already planning on asking Vulcan to make you an electric guitar for this song. You eat dinner on the roof, your fingertips sore from the strings but less today than yesterday. Obi checks in and you talk to him for like twenty minutes, couldn’t quite stop talking, he eventually just handed the phone to Hinawa with a chuckle. “Hey” Hinawa’s voice came through quiet and you felt your heart race as you smiled “hello” you said and you heard him chuckle and then you hear a door close, you assume Obi left the room. “How’s the princess?” He asks softly, a hint of embarrassment and a smile in his voice. You laugh “surprisingly well. The prince is still worried?” He laughs with a tongue in cheek sound, like he was internally cringing at how gross and cheesy this is, you chuckle “people worry about those they care about” he says and you sigh “stay safe. I worry about you too” you say and he hums “as you wish” Obi comes back in the room and says something and then Hinawa says goodbye, and you’re feeling alone again.

Day 5.

You find your way into Vulcans shop, deciding to try and make something. You rummage through his scrap metal pile before finding small strips of metal and you cheered as you brought to his workbench. You find his tools and grab the ones you recognize, putting on his mask as you weld it all together in the shape of a giraffe that he told you about before. Leaving it on his workbench for him to find. (Where it’ll end up living, precious to Vulcan, for the rest of his days). you’re doing a good job at cleaning your wound now, it hurts a little less now that you haven’t ripped it at all recently. You did all your laundry and made sure to return Hinawa’s shirts you’ve been wearing as well as washing his bedding so it would be nice when he gets back. You stop by Obi’s office and draw another picture, this time of Tamaki, Maki, and Iris. It looked pretty good, you drew a small version of you in the top corner and title it ‘sisters’

Day 6.

You bake. You bake everything you can think of with the ingredients you had. Cookies, cakes, and muffins filled the kitchen by the time you went to bed that night. Obi didn’t check in tonight which you assumed he would but you thought he must be busy. You make your way to his office again, drawing a picture of Viktor, Vulcan, Shinra, and Arthur. Your proudest one, it really encapsulated their personalities. Shinra had his feet flames and grin, Arthur had a horse and a sword, Vulcan had his horns and wrench, and Viktor had a thumbs up. You titled it ‘brothers’. (Obi put all of those drawings in the back of his journal)

You shower before bed and put on another one of Obi’s shirts, putting on his clean bedding and playing more of the guitar before clapping out the lights.

Day6.5.

You wake when the covers shift and he lays beside you. You cuddle into him as he pulls the blankets back up. “Is this a dream?” You whisper and he laughs “fortunately for us both, this is real” he whispers back as his lips brush across yours. You sleepily pull yourself tight against him, your eyes burn as you bury your face in his neck “welcome home Lieutenant” you whisper and he sighs into you. “You have no idea how much I missed you” he whispers back and you hum against his skin “I’ve missed you more” you sigh and press soft kisses to his neck. He hums and his arms tighten around you “y/n” he whispers out, like he was dying to say your name. A part of you wishes in this moment that your name was for him to say alone. You hook a leg over his hips, your side hurt a little but not enough to worry. You lean up and kiss his chin “Takehisa” you whsiper and search his eyes. He looked tired, bags under his eyes. “You look tired” you say and he smirks “always with that perfect bedside manner” he jokes and misses your nose. You laugh and playfully tap his chest “Come here” you say and wrap your arms around him, pulling him as you roll to your back, pulling his head to your chest.

He relaxes against you and takes a deep breath as your run your fingers through his hair. “What time is it?” You ask, wondering if you should worry more about letting him sleep. “It’s around one” he says and you nod “will you kiss me again? And then we can go to sleep” you say and he chuckles as he crawls up your chest, keeping his knee to the side to take his weight as he places his elbows by your shoulders and his hands holding your face, his thumbs brushing your skin as he looks down at you with a smile. “You’re a sight for sore eyes” he whispers and gives you a peck before pulling back to look down at you again with a soft smile. Your hands reach up and wrap around his back, scratching up under his shirt. He leans down and presses his lips to yours again, lazy and sloppy, conveying how much he missed you. He pulls back and yawns as he catches his breath and you laugh, pulling him down to you again. “Let’s sleep Take’. You need it” his are closed already as his cheek is pressed into your chest over your heart “I need you” he mumbles already half asleep as he relaxes fully you sigh and your hands bury in his hair as you’re already falling back asleep by the comfort of being in his warm embrace. “Goodnight kitten” he whispers, comforted by finally having you in his arms again.

[theladyofdeath]

The Cadre {18}

A Throne of Glass, 1920s Period AU.

Summary: Orynth became Aelin Galathynius’s kingdom the moment the Prohibition began. She sang every night, the voice of the city’s underground world, her cousin selling the liquor that was banned by the authorities. She was living the dream, young and free, until the Cadre, until Rowan Whitethorn, came into her life.

Since Rowan Whitethorn returned from war, everything had changed. His aunt wants to take his crown, old enemies have returned as business partners, and he can’t sleep without feeling as if he’ll be suffocated by the memories of war. Little did he know that when he came back home he would be leaving one battlefield and entering another.

All characters belong to SJM. I am no more than a fan with a plot.

**Warning: mature content - language, alcohol use, drug use, sex, murders and shit.

A/N: ……….Enjoy this short chapter, with only two chapters left....you know the next one is going to be serious. 

Links:

The Cadre Masterlist

Full Fanfic Masterlist

My Askbox

The sun was rising before Gavriel found the nerve to open the letter Lysandra had slid beneath his door the night before. He knew it was from Aedion, even though she hadn’t said a word. After staring at it for hours, though, Gavriel slowly undid the seal and pulled out the folded letter.

A photograph fell onto the floor.

Gavriel stilled, staring at it breathlessly before bending down and taking it into his shaky fingers. They were so young then, he and Saoirse. The sight of her, of him smiling broadly as she clung to him, broke his heart. Slowly falling back on his bed, Gavriel’s eyes didn’t leave the photograph. He brushed his fingers over her captured beauty, as if he could reach out and feel her, still, sitting right in front of her.

Aedion looked so much like her.

Especially those Ashryver eyes.

It pained Gavriel to look into those eyes, because when he did, all he saw was her.

His Saoirse. 

Refusing to put the photograph down, Gavriel picked up the letter. 

It was short.

Simple.

Powerful.

Gavriel,

I recently came across a handful of my mother’s belongings. I never knew much about her, as I never had the chance to know her. As you know, she died after having me, due to complications that I will never understand. And I think you know this, because, after reading my mother’s journals and finding this photograph, I’ve come to the conclusion that you loved my mother very much. I know that she loved you. She wrote a lot about you. How much she loved you, and how she couldn’t wait to have your baby, so that she would forever have a piece of you with her, even though your love was prohibited. 

Choosing to believe that you loved her just as much, I wanted to write to you, letting you know that I know that I’m your son.

I’m not sure how you feel about that, and I do not expect anything from you. I only wanted you to know, and to let you know that I know, too.

You can keep the photograph.

Aedion Ashryver

He read it over and over and over again, each time feeling more worthless than the last. How awful Aedion must think him, knowing that Gavriel’s his dad. Gavriel had never said a word to anyone, save for Darragh and Rowan, and now that Aedion knew…

Aedion must hate him.

But Gavriel did what he had to, did what he thought best, what Saoirse had thought best before her death: That Gavriel stayed away, that the bad blood between their two people would be too much for a child to bear.

But Aedion was no longer a child.

There was so much he wanted to say to his son, so much he should have said, but he wasn’t sure if he should, wouldn't be sure if Aedion cared to hear.

With the letter in one hand and the photograph in the other, Gavriel was bolting from his room and down the hall, where he pounded on Lysandra’s door.

She opened it, a moment later, dressed in her day clothes, preparing to go into the office. She blinked. “Good morning.”

Gavriel held up the letter, the photograph. “Do you know?”

Her eyes grew soft. “Yes, I do.”

“How long have you known?”

“A while,” she confessed. Before Gavriel could ask her why she kept it hidden from him, she stated, “It was not my secret to discuss.” 

The tension faded from Gavriel’s shoulders as he leaned into the door frame, eyes weary. “I’m sorry.” What he was apologizing for and who he was apologizing to, he didn’t know, but it sounded like the right words to say.

Sorry to Aedion, for being worthless.

Sorry for you, for barging into your room like a madman.

Sorry to Saoirse, for I’m the reason she’s dead.

“Do you wish to speak with him?” Lysandra asked.

Gavriel hesitated.

“If you do, he’ll listen,” Lysandra said, and she sounded certain. 

Gavriel said nothing. He had too many thoughts, too many emotions coursing through him. So he nodded, numbly. 

“Walk me to the office?” she asked, after watching him for a moment. “It’s a nice morning.”

Gavriel nodded, once more, clearing his throat. “I’ll...let me get dressed.”

“Okay,” she whispered, smiling brightly. “I’ll wait.”

And she did, as Gavriel wandered back into his bedroom and dressed. Before he left, he put the letter into his bedside stand and the photograph into the inside pocket of his jacket.

~~~~~

It was early afternoon when Rowan met the others and they walked toward the offices in the building above the Fireheart.

He’d woken up, once again, with his arm around Aelin; but, this time, his shoulder hurt like shit as he woke up with the realization that he’d been shot.

Rhoe fucking shot him.

And now it was time to make amends. 

Whatever the fuck that meant. Rowan could confidently say that he’d never been shot by woman’s father before, after said father realized that Rowan was fucking his daughter.

As he smoked a cigarette, all he could think about was the mess he’d gotten himself into.

And how he didn’t give a damn, because he wanted to wake up every morning with Aelin Galathynius in his arms.

Which is why he walked into Rhoe’s office with his head held high. Gavriel and Vaughan accompanied him inside, while the other three stood just outside, waiting.

Rhoe said nothing.

Neither did Rowan as he took a seat.

Gavriel and Vaughan waited patiently. 

“How’s the arm?” Rhoe asked, at last, nodding to Rowan’s shoulder.

Rowan cocked his head. “Feels like I’ve been shot.”

Rhoe nodded, slowly, with pursed lips. “I’ve been told I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Funny,” Rowan muttered. “I’ve been told I deserved it.” 

Rhoe snorted, and folded his hands on top of his desk. “There is no need to worry, boys. Our deal is secure.” 

Rowan stilled.

That was too easy.

“After talking to my daughter, I’ve come to realize that she should have never been a part of the deal to begin with, and so from this point forth, she will remain out of our dealings.”

Rowan still didn’t say a word.

His eyes narrowed.

“Then is this a good time to ask for your men to stand by my side come Saturday?” Rowan asked, steadily.

Rhoe sighed. “Against Arobynn Hammel, I assume?”

“Yes,” Rowan answered, without hesitation. 

“I’ve already lost a lot of men, Rowan,” Rhoe answered.

“I realize that,” Rowan said, “but Arobynn doesn’t want them dead, just me. It’s for appearances only, unless things get out of hand. In that case, they’ll be in the back.”

“I see,” Rhoe said, clicking his tongue. 

“I would not ask if it was not crucial,” Rowan continued.

It was a simple question, really, although not a simple request. Rowan didn’t know what else to say, though, aside from begging, but he would never become so desperate. He would rather die than beg.

“Nonetheless,” Rowan said, clearing his throat as he rose. “Send word with your answer. If I have your men, they will need to know the plan.”

The three men made their way toward the door, but Rhoe called out, “May I have a moment with you alone, Whitethorn?”

Vaughan tensed, but Rowan nodded, “Of course.”

After giving Rowan a look, Gavriel walked out, Vaughan close behind.

“Sit,” Rhoe said.

With a sigh, Rowan did so, resuming his seat. He waited.

“I have been very protective of my daughter,” Rhoe went on, rigidly. “After her mother’s passing, she has been all that remains. She is wild, yes, but she is a good woman, Rowan.”

Rowan looked at Rhoe for a long moment before saying, “I know you think you know me, Rhoe, and perhaps you do, to a certain extent. Only a certain type of man can do what we do, I realize that. But, I do not disrespect women, and I would have stayed away from Aelin forever if I did not intend to treat her with love and respect.” 

Something in Rhoe’s eyes softened as he said, “Good, because she loves you.”

Rowan must have looked surprised, because Rhoe grinned, weakly. “She told me as much when she was ripping my head off after you left the room last night.” 

Rowan chuckled as he nodded. “Sounds right.”

“Do not break her heart, Whitethorn,” Rhoe said, smile fading. “I mean it.”

“I don’t intend to,” Rowan said, honestly.

Rhoe nodded, once more, as he opened the top drawer of his desk. He slid a small velvet bag across the desk. “Take that, then. For when the moment is right. The way Aelin looked at you last night was the same way my wife used to look at me. And that,” he nodded toward the drawstring back, “was Evalin’s. Upon her death, she wished it to go to Aelin.” 

Fully aware that he was full of confusion, Rowan opened the bag and looked inside, where a ring, with a small sapphire surrounded by white diamonds sat.

Rowan was speechless. He looked back up to Rhoe. He opened his mouth to say something, but Rhoe cut him off. “Call it a truce.” He gestured, once more, to Rowan’s shoulder. “And don’t break her heart.”

Rowan nodded, lips snapping shut as he secured the ring in the bag and placed it in his jacket. When he got up and walked to the door, Rhoe said, “You have my men. And myself. We can meet tomorrow to discuss strategy before the club opens.”

Without turning back to face him, Rowan gave the man a curt nod and left the room.

~~~~~

“Will you miss me, my love?” 

Arobynn watched Maeve walked across their room, the firelight outlining her bare frame.

“Of course,” Arobynn murmured, still catching his breath.

Maeve was a brutal, ravenous woman - especially in bed. 

“Good,” she grinned, falling on her knees at the foot of the bed and crawling toward him. “I shouldn’t be gone long, though. You must send word, either way, after your encounter with Rowan and the boys. I’m eager to hear how it all turns out.”

Arobynn snorted, brushing Maeve’s hair out of her face. “I already know how it will turn out, and I’ll be just as eager to share the news and dwell in our victory. Rowan Whitethorn will die, the Cadre will crumble, and I will rise to the top of this city. Then, once you return, we will run this empire together. No more hiding. All three of us.” 

Maeve’s fingers swept across the small bump that had formed on her abdomen. “Now that young Cortland is out of the way.”

Arobynn still felt guilty for the encounter with Sam. He had truly loved him, but now he was having an actual child, a true heir to the kingdom he was building. He would not let Sam get in the way of it. 

May the kid rest in peace and forgive him in the next life. 

Arobynn’s hands covered hers atop her skin. “We are so close, Maeve. So close to accomplishing the dream.”

“So close,” she repeated, and kissed him, softly. 

~~~~~~~

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[hidinggal]

Bruce's Bat Baby

This is a story I wrote about this post I saw this is my take on the Bruce part.

Bruce and I had met shortly after he had adopted Dick Grayson and quickly fell in love with him and everything about the Wayne heir. We got engaged around the time he adopted Cassandra Cain by this time Jason Todd had lived and died and lived again and the most recent Robin was Tim Drake. I went out most nights I also preferred to stay in and work the coms with Barbara Gordon. Then came Stephanie Brown she was a surprise to they the least but she wasn't a shock like Damian was to the Bat family. Bruce had a biological son. Sure we weren't married but we already had all these kids, it hadn't occurred to me that he might want kids with me. Two years later we got married. We were at a calm and then the conversation of us having kids came back up two months after we got back from out honey moon.

I was sitting on the bed getting ready to crawl under the covers when Bruce came in and looked me in the eyes, “What about another kid?” 

“Who’d did you find this time?” I asked wondering if he had found another kid on the side of the street, “Someone else try to steal the tires off the bat mobile.” I crawled across the bed, shoving my feet under the blankets and then the rest of my body. Bruce laid down beside me on top of the blankets, I cocked my head, “What?”

He smiled at me, kissed me on the head and then turned off the lights and the conversation wasn't brought up again. 

But two weeks later we had a gala event all the kids went a few of the titans came too, me and Bruce spent most of the night helping Lois and Clark on an article. That night Bruce and I had one too many drinks, we woke up that morning tangled in blankets with Bruce's alarm going off. 

He covered me up and kissed me on the head before he left for work, I had the day off. Dick came over from an off shift and after I got showered and changed he got into bed with me and we watched movies while Cassie, Steph, Damian , and Tim were all in school Barbra had work as a librarian. Luke and Duke also had work. So while Alfred cleaned the house Dick and I watched old movies and ate popcorn, Ace came to join us. 

Dick fell asleep with his head on my shoulder and I think I fell asleep too because when I woke up to Jason who spent the day doing whatever taking the photo of the two of us, he saw I was awake and without having to say anything he got into bed laying down next to me and grabbing the remote and choosing the next movie. When I woke up again, Dick was gone and so was Jason in there place was Cassie and Tim who were crossed legged at the end of the bed Damian was curled up asleep, all three of them in their school uniforms. 

Eventually we got up and moved to the dining room where I made the four of us lunch Alfred wasn't too happy but he cleaned up. 

A few days had passed and I was at work at Wayne Enterprises sitting in my office when suddenly a wave of nausea rushed over me. I raced to my private bathroom off from my office and threw up. I sat down on the floor with my head in my hands as another wave hit me. 

I didn't tell anyone about that. The sickness began to happen in the morning and Bruce caught on. For the first three or four days I had managed to get out of bed into the bathroom throw up and shower and change, but today Bruce followed me to the bathroom and held my hair back without a word. His large and calloused hands massaged my back as I leaned forward and heaved. When I was done I leaned into his embrace, he had a wet washcloth and wiped my face with it, folding it over he put in on my head as I caught my breath. “How long has this been going on?” Bruce left the washcloth on my head, i leaned my head back and stared at the ceiling, Bruce intertwined his fingers around me. 

“A few days.” I went to lean forward and stand up but him hands caught me and with a wet slap the washcloth hit the floor. “Let me up.” it was a quiet whisper those last three words, “Its just the flu.”

“The flu?” He asked as I leaned forward away from his becoming embrace. Bruce placed one hand on my waist keeping me down and one on my forehead, I brought my hands up to his and kept the coolness of his skin on my head. “You're burning up.”  He began to make slow movements to stand, “Lets get you into bed.” with one arm on my back and one under my legs he picked me up and carried me to the bed. “ill call you off work and ill tell Alfred to make you breakfast in bed.”

“Go to your meeting” He kissed me on the cheek,

 “Ill have Dick check up on you when he gets back.” Bruce leaves for work knowing that after his shift today he wont be going on patrol, he will be crawling into bed with me. 

A few minutes later, Alfred walks into the room, I'm sitting up ready for a breakfast tray, and he sets it down, overtop my legs the first thing i do is unroll my napkin and a pregnancy test falls into my hands, I look up at Alfred with my mouth open in shock, ”Master Bruce told me your symptoms, it could just be the flu but it could be a child.” I look away from him and look down at the light blue and purple stick, “Now close your jaw you'll catch a fly, Mistress Anne.”

I utter a quick thanks before he leaves the room and closes the door, I stare at the stick i left on the mattress next to me, outside the door I hear Alfred tell the kids I'm sick and not to bother me before school. I can hear Jason doing the crossword on the bench in the hall outside of my room, my eyes never stray from the stick until I move the tray and head into the bathroom. I pee on the stick and sit on the floor with a timer on my phone set for two minutes. 

Me and Bruce always had a family when we started dating he had Dick and I was here when he got everyone else, his own children, Gordon's daughter, i was here when the accidents happened, Babs lost her ability to walk and when Jason died. I was here for them, so maybe if that stick says what i think it says they will all be there for me, I've been apart of this family for so long that sometimes it feels like because they all have the hero thing and yea I do it to but they do it more often and they all have that bonding of shared trauma and because I was raised in a middle class family, I will never have what Bruce and the kids have. My phone begins to buzz without looking I click the phone off and stand up. I look at the little plus sign on the stick. I get in the show and change into new pajamas and by the time I'm coming back into my room to hid the stick in my bedside table, the breakfast tray is gone. 

After tucking the stick away on my bedside table I walk out of my room to the kitchen where Dick and Jason are arguing, they both stop when they see me, “Don't stop on my account.”

I open a cabinet but due to the fact that I'm normally waring heels when i'm out of my room and not dark pink bunny slippers I couldn't reach the crackers, Dick saw and without hesitation he grabbed it for me. He then put a hand on my head, “Fevers gone, how ya feeling?” 

“Thank you,” I pull the box of crackers out of his hand and head to another set of cabinets to grab the peanut butter, “I'm feeling better.” Trying to contain the smile on my face as I pulled the butter knife out of a drawer. I sat down at the table and the two of them sat with me, “What were you two fighting about?”

The two of them sit at the counter with me and begin to rant about what happened on patrol last night, we laugh together and the moment Alfred sees me he lets me finish eating before he ushers me back to bed, both Jason and Dick wish me good luck as Alfred tucks me in, the two of them go back out on patrol. 

I sit in bed with Ace until Bruce comes home, His shoulders are tense so when he sits on the edge of the bed I crawl over to him and begin giving him a shoulder rub. “How are you feeling, Dick said the fevers gone.”

I smile, “Better.” I begin to crawl to my bedside table and I pull the purple and white stick with the faded plus sign out I set it down and go back to rubbing his shoulders. “Turns out it wasn't the flu.”

“Hmm” Bruce just leans into my massage, “What was it? A cold?”

“No” I pull back and grab the stick i then wrap my arms around him putting the plus in his line of sight. “I think we should go to the doctor before we start telling people,” Bruce grabs the stick out of my hands and stands up before turning to look at me, “I know its a lot, I think Alf-” Bruce has the biggest smile on his face, he puts his hands on waist and spins me around the room.

He sets me on the ground, one of my slippers flew off, he kisses me hard, keeping that cheeky grin of his, “Ill call the doctor, we’ll drop the kids off at school, Jason and Dick will patrol again, we will go out to lunch than  if its true.” He kisses me again, “We will have a family dinner in a few days.” I'm not sure how long we stood their and hugged and cried I also don't remember going to sleep or driving the kids to school because next thing I know me and Bruce are sitting in the waiting room of the doctors office.

I don't hear the nurse call the name or the doctor introduce herself I vaguely hear her explain what's she's gonna do I'm too busy thinking about when the baby was conceived, I think it was the night of the gala and so does Bruce that was a little under a month ago a little more than twenty two days, we should be able to hear the baby's heartbeat. I put on the hospital gown and Bruce folds my clothes eventually the doctor walks back in.

She places cold gel on my stomach and Bruce's hand is in mine. I turn my head to look at the screen and there it is a small looking peanut shape, “There it is.” The doctor points at the grey and white on the staticky screen and suddenly this is real, this is I sat on the bathroom floor when I knew the truth, I think I have known since that night that there was a baby inside me and I've always been a parent but now Ill actually be a mom, I didn't know I was crying until Bruce wiped away my tears and then we heard it a small and tiny noise that whispered of love and screamed joy in both our ears a little heartbeat. 

The doctor spoke to us some more, I got prenatal vitamins and other meds she thought I would need. She told Bruce about everything I would go through and then some, I got changed and we got lunch then headed home. Bruce showed the photos to Alfred before he even had his coat off. Alfred congratulated us, he was going to invited everyone to dinner next week. The two of them left me alone to go plan. 

The next week goes by fast the only question I get are why I haven't been out patrolling for the moment I've been shrugging them off but I think Damian is getting suspicious although he hasn't said anything. Bruce has been getting up an hour early so that when I get morning sickness There's towels and bottled water set up in the bathroom for me, He’s also been cutting back on his patrolling shifts and has been telling the kids that's me and him are working on a project for work. When in reality we are working on plans for the nursery, we have kids but we've never had a baby before this was new territory, given we had eight months we had no idea what to do and we still are clueless. 

Me and Bruce wore our dinner clothes to work, business causal we were in meetings all day, and eventually time was for dinner, we had made it so that only immediate members of the so called “Bat Clan” were allowed to dinner. Alfred cooked a chicken dinner with biscuits, mashed potatoes and gravy there was corn and peas as well. Dick was in his police uniform and Jason wore his normal clothes but with a tie on top of everything. Tim, Damian, Steph and Cassie were all wearing school uniforms, Duke and Luke also were wearing business casual and Babs was wearing a blouse and skirt.

They brought up old conversations and family photos to Steph's famous food Instagram page, and to the last meme Tim tagged Bruce in.  Dick brings up a case he’s currently working on down at the GCPD and Jason says something inappropriate that makes everyone laugh. Cassie doesn't say much but she nods and a smile appears on her face. As the conversation dies down Babs asks the question, “Is there a reason were having family dinner tonight, I don't mind its just-”

“I'm pregnant.” I say the whole table is quiet, both me and Bruce are trying to take in everyone's expressions. 

“And during the remaining eight months i will be hanging up the cowl, the justice league doesn't know yet why I'm giving up being batman.”

“This is real?” Jason says eyes wide.

Cassie lets out a laugh and signs congratulations. 

“Baby names!” Stephanie pulls a pen out of her pocket and begins writing on her cloth napkin, I let out a laugh as Tim leans over to help her.

“You need boy names too!” Cassie leans over to read the names as Tim yells at Steph.

“Congrats you too.” Dick says nodding his head he then glances at Steph's napkin that is upside down to him, “Does that say Dino Nugget?” 

Jason leans over and reads the list, “I don't think Batman is going ot name his child Baby Bat.”

The rest of the evening was spent it a cheerful mood and ended with Bruce showing everyone the ultrasound pictures. 

The night was a success now came the hard part, preparation for the baby and the next nine months.

PART 2??? how was this 

[svnflowervol666]

Hiii I just read all your writings and I LOVED THEM 💖💖 So can you write a lil blurb where it's Y/N's birthday and he does some cute shit for her

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: tiny mention of smut (at the end)

Author’s Note: I absolutely ADORED writing this one. Thank you so much! Requests are open, so drop an idea into my inbox if you’ve got one! Take care and tpwk.

Just as she was finishing up her makeup in the bathroom before work, an unflattering photo of her longtime boyfriend wearing a bright green face mask illuminated her phone screen, signifying that he was trying to facetime with her. The photo always made her laugh no matter how hard her day had been, so she’d set it as his contact photo.

“Hello my beautiful boy,” Y/N sang when the call adjusted and she could finally see Harry’s face smiling at her from ear to ear.

“And hello to you too, my beautiful birthday girl!” Harry exclaimed right back.

Much to his protest, Harry had ended up smack dab in the middle of a North American tour on his girlfriend’s birthday. He’d tried his hardest to schedule a break in between today so he would be able to spend some time with her on her special day, but it didn’t end up working out and both Harry and Y/N were fairly bummed about it. 

“Thank you, love,” she grinned into the camera, making Harry’s heart soar. 

“Ye’ getting ready f’ work?”

“Unfortunately,” Y/N faked a pout, “Should be an easy day, though. What about you?”

“Just got back to m’ hotel room. Show tonight was great. I wish you could’ve gotten off work to hop on tour for a few days.”

“You know how my boss is,” Y/N sounded somewhat sad and it made Harry’s chest feel tight knowing how badly she had wanted to come visit him.

“Hmm,” Harry pondered, “’M starting t’ think she’s got a crush on me n’ that’s why she never gives you any days off.”

This made a laugh blossom from deep in Y/N’s belly.

“Everyone’s got a crush on you, bubby.”

“Too bad I’ve only got eyes f’ you. Anyways,” Harry quickly moved on to the next subject.

“I’ve called you to tell you where I’ve hidden your birthday present.”

“Harry,” Y/N scolded him, “I told you not to get me anything.”

“Yeah, well, ye’ know I wasn’t gonna listen. Love spoilin’ ya. It’s in the back of my underwear drawer. Should be a little velvet box.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry to which he blew her a cheeky kiss through the screen in response. She grabbed her phone while she traveled from the bathroom into their bedroom and began riffling through Harry’s intimates drawer. 

“Quick question, H. Why your underwear drawer?”

All Harry could see of Y/N was her forehead while her fingers moved past his folded up boxers and dug for the small gift.

“It’s the only thing of mine you don’t steal. Figured it’d be least likely t’ be found if I kept it in there when I left.”

“Touche, my love. Alright, I’ve got it. Want me to open it now?”

“It would kinda make sense to, now, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re such a smartass.”

“You love me anyway.”

She chuckled as she propped her cell phone up against her bedside lamp so Harry could see her reaction when she found out what was inside. When she removed the small metallic bow that was placed on top, she lifted the lid and her expression turned into one of confusion and uncertainty.

“Is this the ring that you lost a few months ago?”

Indeed, it was. It was Y/N’s favorite out of the hefty collection of rings that Harry hoarded. Sometimes, Harry would let her pick out which rings he wore and her eyes always landed on that one. She was never able to give him a reason other than she was simply drawn to it; the way it danced in the sunlight when his hand stuck out from the covers in the morning, the way it accentuated his perfect, long fingers. 

Or perhaps, there was a reason why she loved it so much. This ring in particular was one that Harry had purchased from a local jewler when they were on a holiday in Greece. That very same night, Harry had gotten wine-drunk (more like wine-wasted) and had confessed a secret to her. 

“You know something, Y/n?” he drunkenly babbled whilst wagged his finger adorned with his new ring in her face, “I’m gonna marry you one day.”

She’d never bring the memory back up to Harry, however she was never able to forget that night or his ring waving itself right in front of his face. It was just another one of those moments where she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Harry was the one for her. Knowing this, one could have seen why Y/N had gotten rather upset when Harry had revealed to her that he had “misplaced it” and had no earthly idea where it had gone. Unbeknownst to her, Harry hadn’t actually lost it at all.

“It is. I didn’t actually lose it. I know ye’ love it, so I had it sized down to fit your finger. Do ye’ like it?”

“I love it. Thank you, Harry.”

Y/N felt her eyes instinctively well up with tears. She hadn’t told Harry, but she always had a hard time whenever he was gone for prolonged periods of time. The bed was always cold, her meals didn’t taste as good, and there was no one there to hold her when her day went less than ideal. Knowing how much thought went into a gift like this only widened the hole in her heart that appeared every time Harry left for tour.

“Aww, don’t cry, lovie. Not on your birthday.”

Y/N gently wiped the corners of her eyes and shook her head, “I’m good. Promise. Just miss you a lot is all.”

“Miss you too, baby. I wish I wasn’t so far away from ye’.”

“It’s only a few more weeks, right? I’ll survive,” Y/N stood up from where she was sat on the bed and straightened out her blouse before picking the phone up from the nightstand, “Guess I should probably head out now.”

“Alright,” Harry reassured her with a wrinkle in his brow. 

He absolutely hated knowing that his girl was upset. Not only because it was her birthday, a day that was all about celebrating her, but because he was on another continent and couldn’t be there to soothe her.

“I’ll call you again tonight. Sound good?”

“Sounds great.”

“Have a good day, Y/N,” Harry said sincerely.

“I’ll try.”

They exchanged one last loving look before Y/N ended the call and left the house she shared with Harry to go to work.

Her day wasn’t half as bad as she’d envisioned it to be. Upon arrival, her coworkers greeted her with her favorite coffee and donuts accompanied by a plethora of multi-colored balloons tossed about the office space. Everyone was extra nice to her and offered to take on some of her paperwork for her, which she certainly didn’t mind. Around lunchtime, she received a massive delivery of canary yellow sunflowers from the one and only, Harry Styles. Attached to the bouquet was a simple note card that read, For my sunflower on her special day. -H. This earned her a series of hoots and hollers from the other employees at the office (and she almost swears a scolding look from her boss), which she promptly brushed off and continued on working.

On the long drive home, she’d chatted with her small, close group of friends about the outing they had planned for her that weekend. It was mostly about the bars they had planned on going to and about how wasted they knew they were going to be, but even the playful banter in between them couldn’t manage to pull Y/N out of the funk she was in. Sure, she could put on a happy face and act like she enjoyed the attention she was receiving for her birthday, but none of it really meant much when the one person she cared about most wasn’t there to celebrate with her.

When she opened the front door she was hit by the overwhelming scent of aromatics coming from her kitchen. She hadn’t cooked anything this smelly in at least a few days and she certainly didn’t recall smelling it on her way out the door this morning, so her senses were on high alert. Her finger hovered over the emergency button on her cell phone as she rounded the corner, only to be greeted by a tall, curly-headed man-child boiling pasta in his periwinkle-colored bathrobe.

“Harry?!”

“Fuck,” he cursed aloud, “I didn’t think you’d be home this early. I thought I’d have it all done before you got here.”

Typical Harry. The boy’s got big ideas, but his ability to pull them off seldom comes to fruition.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Come kiss me, stupid.”

Harry took a few long strides over to his girlfriend and engulfed her in a bone-crushing hug and kiss, one that left her breathless and feeling full of love. His lips worked passionately against her own and the tip of his tongue prodded at her bottom lip, just the way that he knew she liked. When he pulled back from holding her mouth against his, he saw that she was really crying this time, unable to stop the flow of salty tears from running down her cheekbones and down her chin.

“What are you even doing here?” she asked Harry as he wiped her tears with the pads of this thumb. “I thought you had a show tonight.”

“You see, Y/N. Time zones can be a beautiful thing. I found out I could make it here with a few hours t’ spare before my next show, so I hopped on a plane right after I got off the phone w’ you.”

“You didn’t have to do this, Harry.”

“But I wanted to. Hated seeing you upset this mornin’.”

He noticed she was twiddling the ring he’d gifted her this morning around her finger, to which he raised her hand and inspected it with his own eyes instead of through his phone screen.

“Looks good on you, dunnit?”

Y/N nodded her head, still unable to comprehend that her boyfriend had flown across the globe to see her on her birthday. There weren’t many people on this earth like Harry, and she had never felt happier to know that she had the privilege of being loved by one.

“I love it, H. I really do. Thank you. For all of this.”

She moved her hand away from Harry’s face to kiss his lips once more.

“How long are you staying?” she continued.

Harry sighed, “’ve got to leave at 2am to make it to the show on time.”

“That’s alright. Any time is better than no time.”

“Exactly,” Harry agreed with his love, “So why don’t ye’ go upstairs and change while I finish cookin’ so we can make the most of it, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back,” she pulled him in for a third kiss before reluctantly leaving Harry’s side to take off her uncomfortable work clothes.

Just as she ascended the steps that led to their bedroom, she heard Harry call out.

“Actually, don’t bother! It’s not like you’ll have your clothes on for very long anyway!”

[sagesparrow394]

One Night of Normalcy

This is my @sanderssidesgiftxchange gift for @anyarally! I wish you a happy New Year, and I hope you enjoy the fic!

Ship(s): Analogical, background Moceit

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve, and Virgil is spending the evening around his boyfriend’s house, and meeting Logan’s parents for the first time. All he hopes for is one night of normalcy, and to stay out of yet another of his parents’ fights.

Warnings: This fic contains domestic abuse, both physical and verbal. There is a gay character who is heavily implied to have been forced into a straight relationship.

----------

Virgil took a deep breath, adjusting his flannel shirt in the mirror. Today was the day: Christmas Eve, and he was meeting his boyfriend’s parents.

Virgil knew there was no reason for him to be nervous. When planning for the day, Logan had frequently reassured Virgil that his parents were kind and warm-hearted people, and they truly were according to Remus and Roman. The two twins had worked with Logan on a science project once and, having gone around Logan’s to complete it, knew Logan’s dads well.

Virgil went to his dresser, checking his reflection in the mirror, before reaching for his make up. After putting on foundation, he reached for his black eyeshadow, only to pause. Would black make him seem too angsty and edgy? He didn’t want Logan’s dads to think he was some evil bad boy - what if they thought Logan could do better and convinced him to break up with him? Maybe he should go for his purple eyeshadow… But what if they thought the bright glitter was too much? Maybe he should just not wear anything. But his face looked so bare without it!

He groaned, holding his head in his hands, before reaching out. If he grabbed the black eyeshadow, he'd use black, if he grabbed the purple eyeshadow, he’d use purple, and if he missed both, he wouldn’t wear any.

He felt something in his hand and opened his eyes. Purple it was.

When he finished applying it, he pulled on his hoodie, before heading to the door of his room. He gently pressed his ear to the door.

Things were quiet. Goo-

SLAM!

Never mind. He stood corrected. He stayed listening, trying to work out where in the house his parents were going as he heard their voices yelling.

“I can’t believe you!”

“It was nothing-”

“Nothing?! NOTHING?! Thomas, I told you one thing, one rule! And you fucking broke it!”

“Nico and I are just friends, we ran into each other in the food court, we were just talking. I don’t see what’s-”

“Just friends?! That’s not what it looked like! And by talking, I know you mean flirting, you fucking slut!”

Virgil winced as he heard the sound of a sharp slap. Maybe he shouldn’t leave. It would be safer to keep his door shut and not risk passing his parents. He’d text Logan, telling him plans were called off and apologising. Then, he’d curl up in bed and hope his dad was okay, and that his mom wouldn’t come and take his wrath out on him instead.

And that’s when there was a vibration in his pocket from his phone.

Logan: Dad wants to know what your favourite cookies are - I’m assuming he’s planning on baking some. I’m warning you in advance, he is very excited about tonight

And then another message came through.

Logan: Though I must admit, I am too. 💙

Virgil couldn’t help but smile a little. Okay, he’d risk it. He’d have to be quiet, but he’d sneak out and would make sure he got to Logan’s right on time.

He responded to the message and then pocketed his phone, before slowly pushing his door open. He tiptoed down the hall and then down the stairs, making sure to avoid all of the squeaky floorboards and steps. Then he tiptoed towards the front door. As he went, he passed the kitchen and couldn’t help but peek through the doorway. His mom was still screaming as his dad, who was nursing a red bruise on his face. He held his breath, quietly tiptoeing past, and heading to the front door. He opened it as quietly as possible, stepping outside, before closing it equally silently. He paused for a moment, and then quickly hurried off.

-

Knock knock!

Logan looked up from his book at the noise, before hurriedly placing his bookmark in and putting the book on his bedside table. He got up from his bed, before running downstairs, where he caught his dad just about to open the door. “Dad, wait!”

Patton turned around. “What is it, kiddo?”

“I… It’s just… I don’t want you to come on too strongly. No offence, Dad, but you are… a lot. And I don’t want Virgil to feel overwhelmed straight away. So, maybe just head back to the kitchen for now, and I’ll bring Virgil in to meet you and Pa, okay?”

“Okay, okay, kiddo. But don’t leave me waiting too long,” Patton said as he began heading back to the kitchen. “You know how excited I’ve been to meet him!”

“I know, Dad.” Logan nodded. He turned back to the door when Patton was gone, opening it. “Hey, Verge.”

“Hi, Lo… I’m not too late, am I?”

Logan chuckled. “You’re early, actually.” He stood up on his tiptoes, pecking his lips to Virgil’s. “Come on, you can dump your stuff in my room, and then I’ll introduce you to my dads.” He took Virgil’s arm and gently pulled him along, heading upstairs.

When they stepped into Logan’s room, Virgil found it to be almost exactly how he’d imagined Logan’s room to be. There were glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling, arranged to form constellations. He had a bookshelf against one wall that was crammed with books - too many to fit properly on there. He had a desk, his laptop resting on it along with a bunch of papers strewn around and quite a few empty jam jars. A telescope was set up by his window. The sheets of his bed had a pattern of planets and stars.

Logan sat down on his bed. “You can put your bag down anywhere. By the way, if you want to wait a bit to meet my parents, I don’t mind. You can take as long as you need.”

Virgil smiled, dropping his backpack on the floor after getting something out. “Thanks. I think I wanna just spend some time with you for a bit.” He sat down beside Logan, wrapping his arms around the shorter boy before pulling him onto his lap. “Hey, Lo?”

“Yeah?”

“Merry Christmas.” Virgil handed a present he had gotten out of his bag to Logan.

Logan smiled, before reaching over to his bedside. He opened the top drawer and pulled out a wrapped gift as well. “Merry Christmas to you too.” He handed it to Virgil. “You go first.”

Virgil pulled open the wrapping, chuckling as he saw what was inside. “Oh my gosh, I love it…” It was a plush spider with cute little fangs, and purple patches that matched his hoodie all over it.

“I made it myself. Well, with some help from Roman and Remus as well,” Logan explained. “They’re much better at arts and crafts than I am. Though Remus did almost stab himself in the finger with the sewing machine…”

Virgil pecked a kiss to his cheek. “It’s perfect. Thanks, L. Now go on, open yours. I’m sorry if it isn’t as cool as what you got me…”

Logan rolled his eyes, tearing the paper. “Virgil, I’m sure, whatever it is, it’ll be perfect.” He pulled the last of the paper away, eyes lighting up as he held up a soft blue turtleneck sweater. “I love it! Thank you so much, Verge.” He pulled the sweater on. “How does it look?”

“Perfect.” Virgil hugged Logan close, smiling. “So soft… I love how you act so stoic and smart in front of everyone, but you turn into a cute little soft teddy bear when it’s just the two of us.”

Logan’s face burned a little. “Oh, hush…”

Virgil pressed a small kiss to his neck. “Love you.”

“... I love you too.”

They stayed there together, cuddled close. Virgil’s hand slipped under Logan’s sweater at one point, tracing the stretch marks on the other’s stomach, and Logan nuzzled gently into him in response. Unfortunately, however, the moment was ruined by Virgil’s phone blaring his ringtone - I’m Not Okay (I Promise) by My Chemical Romance. Virgil pulled his phone from his pocket.

“What is it?” Logan asked.

“My dad…” Virgil frowned at his phone. He didn’t want to get involved if his parents were still arguing… His mom might be even angrier if she’d found out he’d sneakily left. He declined the call. “It’s probably nothing.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You just hung up? My dad would freak out if I declined a call from him. He’d get scared I’d been kidnapped or something.”

Virgil shrugged. “Eh, it’s fine. It’s probably nothing. Anyway, I don’t want our time together interrupted.”

Logan flushed. “Sap.”

“You love it…” Virgil grinned, pinching his boyfriend’s cheek lightly, causing Logan to gently shove his arm.

“Me being chubby does not entitle you to be able to do that kind of stuff.”

“Hm… I think you’ll find that’s exactly what it means.”

Before Logan could react, Virgil’s hands slipped back under his shirt, pinching his love handles. Logan let out a small squeal, erupting into giggles. “Virgil!! Stop!”

Virgil grinned. “Ticklish, huh?” He continued tickling Logan’s sides, the other quickly going red in the face as he collapsed back on his bed.

“Virgil! Stop!”

“But your giggle’s so cute… I rarely get to hear it. Let me have this? Please?”

Logan frowned. “‘M not cute…”

“Sure you’re not.” Virgil leaned over and pecked his lips. “Definitely not the cutest guy I’ve ever seen.”

Logan raised an eyebrow as his face burned even redder. “Is your goal for today just to fluster me as much as you can?”

Virgil shrugged. “Well, it wasn’t until you said that. Now, maybe it is.” He ran a hand through Logan’s hair.

“You have to be careful, Virge. If you make me look all flustered and unruly, my dads will get the wrong idea when we go down and meet them.”

“... Good point.”

Logan chuckled as Virgil leant back, and he sat up. “So, do you want to go down and see them now? My dad will probably combust if I have to keep him waiting much longer.”

“... Sure.” Virgil paused. “You won’t leave me alone with them at any point, right? Nothing against your dads, but I just-”

“It’s okay, I’ll be with you the whole time.”

“Good…”

Virgil stood up, before offering Logan his hands, pulling him to his feet. The two left the room, starting to head to the kitchen.

“By the way, you know how your dad asked what cookies are my favourite?”

“Yeah. He wouldn’t trust me when I told him chocolate chip, and insisted I ask you to be sure and show him your response.”

“Well, you might be happy he didn’t trust you.” Virgil smiled. “I lied and said my favourite was Crofters cookies, since I know you love them. Surprise.”

Logan smiled back. “You didn’t have to do that…”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

The two arrived at the kitchen. Logan took Virgil’s hand, squeezing it comfortingly as he led him inside.

And there Logan’s parents were. One of them was standing at the kitchen counter, humming to himself happily as he made the cookies. He had ginger hair, freckles across his face, and was wearing a light blue polo shirt, khakis, round glasses, and had a grey cardigan tied over his shoulders. Sitting at the table, Logan’s other father was drinking a cup of tea while reading a book about Immanuel Kant and his work in philosophy. He was wearing a yellow button-up t-shirt and black pants.

“Dad, Pa? This is Virgil. Virgil, meet my Dad, Patton, and my Pa, Janus.”

“Hi…” Virgil awkwardly waved. 

Janus gave him a gentle smile, nodding in welcome. “Hello, Virgil. I like the eyeshadow.”

Meanwhile, Patton eagerly turned to face Virgil. “Hey, kiddo! It’s so nice to finally meet you! Lo’s told us so much about you!”

“He has…?” Oh god, what kind of things has he said? What if Logan made him out to be really bad? What if he was about to be kicked out or, even worse, hurt-

No, Virgil, calm down. This is Logan, your boyfriend who loves you. He wouldn’t make you look bad. Not to mention, Patton looks excited to meet you, so it’s unlikely Logan has said anything that would make them hate you.

“Yep! He’s always talking about fun things you’ve done together, and things he loves about you. It’s so nice for him to have someone - he’s been a lot less closed off since you two started dating.”

“Dad…” Logan muttered, face burning red.

“Oh, it’s okay, you know I’m just teasing you. Anyway, you two came down just in time! The cookies are about to go in the oven and I was thinking, while they cook, we could play some board games. Just some nice family Christmas Eve fun!”

“Family?” Virgil could help but repeat that in disbelief.

“Yeah, kiddo. You’re part of the family now. So, any games you like in particular? We have Clue, Monopoly, Trivial Pursuit, Scrabble, Sorry, The Chameleon, Spyfall… and quite a few others! We always get at least one new one each Christmas, so we’ve gathered quite the collection.”

“I’ll show Virgil the shelf of games and we’ll pick one out together.” Logan took Virgil’s hand, before leading him from the room. He led him into the living room and to a bookshelf in there. He opened cupboards at the bottom, revealing board games stacked upon the shelves inside. “Take your pick. Personally, my favourites are Clue and any trivia games.”

“I, um… I don’t really know board games too well.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You don’t?”

Virgil shook his head. “My family aren’t exactly the, uh, sit and play and have family time kinda people… I only really know the games that the YouTubers I watch play. But I have a feeling your dads aren’t really the types to play Cards Against Humanity.”

Logan chuckled a little. “No, they are not. Well, maybe Pa would, but Dad, definitely not. But are there any games here you recognise from YouTube that you would like to play?”

“Um, I’ve seen people play Clue, the Chameleon and Spyfall, and they looked cool.”

Logan nodded, picking up the three games. As he did, Virgil rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, you really, like, see me as part of the family? I mean, your parents barely know me…”

“Of course.” Logan stood up straight, the games in his arms. He paused. “It doesn’t make you uncomfortable, does it?”

“No! No, the opposite actually… It’s nice.”

Logan smiled. He gently pressed a kiss to Virgil’s cheek. “Let’s head back to the kitchen. Then we can set up the games, and I can wipe the floor with you all and win them all.”

Virgil smirked. “Oh, I’m not so sure about that, L. I’ve watched enough videos to know the strategies. You’re going down!”

“We’ll see about that.” Logan grinned, heading back to the kitchen. Virgil was about to follow when his phone rang yet again. He pulled it from his pocket, frowning at his mom’s name. “Sorry, Mom, I’m having a fun night. I’m not getting into a fight with you.” He declined the call, before putting his phone on silent. Then, he headed to the kitchen.

-

Playing board games with Logan, Janus and Patton was so much fun! Virgil had honestly never felt so comfortable around a group of people.

They played the Chameleon first. Janus had little to no competition, winning every single time he was the Chameleon, no one suspecting him at all.

“How are you so good at this?” Virgil had asked.

“I’m a lawyer,” was Janus’ only response.

Then it was Clue. Logan had been the winner of this one. He had gone full Sherlock mode, using deductive reasoning to slowly whittle down the options until he had the murder, the weapon and the place. All three games of Clue they played, he had won.

“You’re so good at this,” Virgil had sighed, staring at him admiringly.

“Elementary, my dear Watson,” Logan had replied, before pecking a kiss to his cheek.

Then, finally, they played Spyfall. Somehow, he didn’t know how, Virgil was the winner of this game. He expected to be a terrible spy due to his very clear nervous fidgeting. However, he was able to blend in pretty well - mostly due to the fact he was equally fidgety when he wasn’t the spy, fearing that his answers weren’t as convincing as they should be. Therefore, no one could tell the difference in his body language between games.

The whole evening had just been so fun. Virgil didn’t want it to end. He got to spend time with the adorable and smart love of his life, and experience what it was like to have parents who actually loved each other through Janus and Patton. The two of them had such a pure, loving relationship with the quick hugs and kisses they shared as they passed each other.

As they’d been playing, the cookies were baked and then left to cool. Once the games were done, Patton placed the cookies on a plate and put them on the table.

“Dig in, kiddos!”

Logan didn’t hesitate to take one, and Virgil did the same just after. He took a bite and his eyes widened. “Whoa, these are really good.”

“Aw, thanks, kiddo! My very own recipe. Logan asked me to try making cookies with Crofters, and he was my taste tester as I tried different recipes.”

Virgil chuckled. “I’m not surprised with his sweet tooth.” He smiled down at Logan, who flushed a little.

And then Virgil felt his phone vibrate in his pocket yet again. It had done so a couple of times while they were playing, but now Virgil was getting sick of it. Why were his parents so desperate to drag him, their teenage son, into their bullshit?! What was he supposed to do about it?!

He pulled his phone from his pocket, going to turn it off. Only to pause. It wasn’t his dad’s number, or his mom’s. It was an unknown number. Usually, he declined unknown numbers. Talking to people he knew on the phone was scary enough. Strangers? No way in hell. But… something about this felt different. Weird.

He gave Logan, Patton and Janus a look that said “excuse me for a moment”, before standing up. He pressed a quick kiss to Logan’s head, before heading out to the hallway.

Once he was gone, Logan turned to his parents. “So… what do you think?”

“Oh, kiddo, I’m so happy for you!” Patton smiled. “He’s such a sweet boy.”

Janus nodded. “And anyway, it doesn’t matter what us two think of him. The two of you seem very happy, and you clearly love each other very much. And that’s all that matters.”

Logan smiled. He got to his feet, walking around the table, before hugging both Patton and Janus close. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank us, Lo.” Janus reassured as the two fathers hugged their son in return.

As they were hugging, Virgil came back in. He was as pale as a sheet.

“Verge?” Logan pulled away from his fathers, frowning. He went up to his boyfriend, who was trembling in the doorway. “Are you alright?”

Virgil swallowed the lump in his throat, looking between the three faces staring at him, concerned. 

“My dad’s in the hospital and my mom’s been arrested.”

[kyloswarstars]

Come on! • Part 1 – „A Stranger“

Peaky Blinders • Mini-Series

Vendetta had brought your family back to Small Heath for a while. As a Blinder you received orders from Tommy like everyone else did as well. Your current one: Keep eyes on Bonnie Gold. When you first heard those words you wouldn’t have dared to imagine this order would take a complete turn on you.

Pairing • Bonnie Gold x Shelby!Reader

Words • 2.1k

A/N • This Mini-Series is following the events of Peaky Blinders S4 (means: SPOLERS). Lemme know if you like ittttt 🌚

Come on! • masterlist

/////

There was one rule you had set for yourself: Never. Fucking. Care. You did what you pleased. With anything, anyone, at anytime. Life was too short – perfect example: your brother John – to stick to someone else’s ideals or follow the law. Or, worst of all, society’s expectations.

Being a Shelby was innate. Being a Blinder was a choice. One your brothers may have disliked because you were together with Finn, the youngest Shelby, but… you didn’t care. The first time you stole a Peaky cap and caused havoc was thrilling. Who said only the boys could have fun? Yes, society. And what did you do about that? Exactly, you didn’t fucking care.

You should probably care a little more sometimes as it would be good for your own health, but after John passed recently, that thought was thrown in the cut before put into reality.

Being back in Small Heath, due to the vendetta, didn’t automatically mean everything was back to normal. A lot of things were different. Your temper, boiling under your skin and making you want to destroy something, was the same as ever. It was fuelled by dismay over the grief that was still lurking. Every other day it dragged you into this black cloud. The strange thing was that it felt so soft, so easy to fall into it. And once you let yourself fall and started to grieve, it seized you tighter, not wanting to let you breathe again. Once you cried, you wouldn’t be able to stop. So, whenever you felt that grief creeping up on you, you harshly removed yourself out of this black cloud before you couldn’t stop missing John anymore.

One of the disadvantages of running away from your feelings: Your temper, this always hungry beast inside of your chest, asked for an outlet. Throughout the day this outlet came in the shape of boxing. Even as a kid you had imitated Arthur throwing punches whenever something was troubling you. The physical exhaustion numbed your thoughts. But in the nights, boxing wasn’t so easy. Punching air didn’t do shit.

Standing in your old room at Watery Lane, already having pulled every piece of clothing out of the wardrobe and the pillow cut open, feathers flowing around the room, you took a look in the mirror. The way you viewed yourself was normal to you – you knew it wasn’t how most of the others viewed themselves, though. You just didn’t care at all for your appearance. The time people spent with worrying over their appearances was just wasted lifetime to you. What did it matter how you looked in the end? Everyone dies no matter what you look like.

Dead. John is dead. Tiny black clouds were reaching out for you, trying to make you sit on them and carry you into their nightmare land. Not with me.

Not being able to throw your fists into a punching bag, you closed them around the scissors you found in a drawer. In the rush of letting out air, getting free of that intense feeling of being trapped, you didn’t care at all when you took the scissors and started to chop your hair of – strand for strand.

All of the cut hair gathered at your bare feet, tickling between your toes. With every trim your breathing returned to a steadier rhythm. The mess on your head, when the scissors couldn’t cut anymore hair, didn’t allow you to fully settle yet. Opening the door and glancing into the hallway, none of your siblings seemed to be awake – every door was closed but one. You rushed to the only door being open: John’s old room. And indeed you found an old bar of shaving soap and brush in his bedside cabinet.

Picking up your knife, which had been laying on the floor with your shoes, you soaked the shaving brush in some water, swirled it over the soap and applied the rising foam on the remnants of your hair. It was the first time ever you felt a blade being pushed over your head and it was great. You could almost hear every single hair being relentlessly shaved off. The thoughts wouldn’t leave your brain faster, without hair in the way, but you were finally able to fall asleep now, once you were done shaving your head.

/////

Sun was just starting to rise outside, meaning you didn’t sleep that long, but at least a little bit. Throwing on some pants and a shirt, you grabbed your bag and cap after brushing your teeth.

The betting shop was still quiet but that would change soon. You planned on being out of the house by then.

Arthur was sitting in the kitchen, having some breakfast and sipping on his tea. When he saw you coming in, he choked on a sip. Crashing the cup down to the table, he coughed it out, looking at you in shock. „Y/N, what the fuck happened to your hair?“

„It’s gone,“ you shrugged.

„Yeah, I can see that.“

„So… then you know what happened,“ you teased and grabbed a slice of bread, making your way to the door.

„Nah, you’re ain’t going nowhere.“ Arthur got up and pointed over to the betting shop. „Tommy has an order for you.“ A small chuckle escaped him. „And I’m gonna go with you to see his reaction on your baby head. Can’t miss out on that.“

If you cared you would’ve hit him for saying you looked like a baby with the bald head but you really, really didn’t care. It was the awaiting order which you cared about. You just wanted to leave for King Maine’s, not being bothered with a job to do first.

When you entered the office, Tommy didn’t look up. Only when you reached his desk did he spend a second on diverting his eyes from papers to Arthur and you. For a moment, Tom’s eyes were fixated on your head, you knew because they were looking to high up for the goal being your eyes, but he didn’t care. Just like you.

„New order, Y/N. Keep an eye on Bonnie Gold when you’re at the boxing hall. Need to know how he’s keeping up.“

Bonnie Gold? The guy who had shot a man at John’s funeral, rode by with his father on a horse and later killed another Italian, one of Changretta’s men? „I’m not a fucking babysitter, Tom.“

„You’re not. You’re my messenger. So go do your work.“

„Even worse,“ you muttered under your breath, but that was how Blinder business worked. You did as you were told.

Leaving Watery Lane before anyone else could stop you, your excitement was slightly impaired. King Maine’s was your hiding spot where you went to when everything got too much. You punched your thoughts out, your grief and also your fucking heart because some days even feeling it beat in your chest seemed to be too much to take. All you could hope for was to have some peace before he would show up at King Maine’s. 

That wasn’t the case, though. Bonnie Gold was already there. Of course he would be.

Your immediate reluctance to ‚keep an eye on someone‘ faded as you entered the hall and stood there, watching him for a minute. It wasn’t even eight and Bonnie was already sweat-soaked, fully invented into mauling a punch bag. That was some dedication right there. 

Leaning on a pillar and still observing him, some of the other boxers greeted you silently. For a long time you were visiting King Maine’s now and never has there been any strange glances or lewd whistles. Perks of being a Shelby probably.

His fists slowed down. Bonnie placed some final punches then let go of the sandbag, went over to a bench, and grabbed a bottle. While he was drinking he looked around and eventually spotted you.

You didn’t hide you were watching him. Actually, you stared right back in his eyes from afar. Until Maine shouted from the other end of the boxing hall to not distract the Gold boy. Cautiously regaining your balance, you grabbed your bag and went to change in this super tiny lumber room. It was your own personal changing room, provided by King Maine with some reluctance. But as a Shelby one of your brothers, if not yourself, always made sure you were treated the right way.

Starting your boxing session, your thoughts that had kept you awake all night until you chopped of the hair, were slowly starting to fade. You hit them right into the punch bag where you wished they would stay forever. From time to time you felt two eyes on your back. And whenever you turned around you stared back at those two eyes, Bonnie Gold’s eyes.

The first boxers who had come to King Maine’s studio in the morning were replaced by a few other locals by now. It were always the same guys here. Fellas, pretty loyal to the Shelby’s, and most of them trying to become a Blinder one day. But except for a handful they were just pricks, all mouth and no trousers. If you gave them a cap to cut someone’s eyes they would probably shit themselves.

By noon you had tired your lungs out, your clothes were soaked in sweat, and you granted yourself a minute on a bench before you would go back to Watery Lane for lunch.

Bonnie Gold was still there. He walked over to you when you started to unwrap the bandages on your hands.

„I know you’re supposed to watch me.“ His voice didn’t sound like you had expected it. It was calm and almost a little teasing. 

Only looking up for a second, you turned your attention back to the bandages. Untangling them was a profession you still hadn’t managed after all those years. „A strange way to start a conversation with a stranger.“

„You’re not a stranger.“ He sat down next to you.

I didn’t invite you to sit with me, you thought. „I never talked to you before so I would call you a stranger.“ 

„Okay, then let me restart.“ He turned towards you and reached out his hand for you to shake it. „I’m Bonnie Gold.“

„I know.“ You didn’t shake his hand as a matter of principle. Strangers, even though he wasn’t really a stranger, didn’t get body contact from you. Maybe during a training fight in the ring but not because society expected you to shake someone’s hand even though you rather liked to keep your personal space.

„See! You know who I am. And I know who you are.“ He didn’t mind you not shaking his hand; he only grinned at himself.

„Doesn’t change the fact you’re still a stranger.“ You rolled up the bandages, which you were finally able to wrap off your hands, and shot him a smirk. 

„A stranger you’re supposed to watch.“ Bonnie winked at you. „But Tommy gave me orders too.“

The question as to why he even knew you were supposed to keep your eyes on him popped up but you really didn’t care for that. „Well, there are two things you need to know, Bonnie Gold. First thing: Tommy gives out orders to everyone, including me. I may have gotten an order but the second thing is: I don’t do things, not even following Tommy’s orders, if I don’t enjoy doing them.“

„Is that so?“ His smirk still didn’t leave his lips. He seemed to quite enjoy this conversation.

„Indeed,“ you confirmed your previous statement, kinda playing along with this vibe.

Bonnie leaned over a little and lowered his voice so only you were able to hear him. „Didn’t your brother also tell you to stay away from dangerous men?“ 

Leaning in as well, mimicking him: „You think you’re a dangerous man? To me?“ This thought made you actually laugh out loud for a second.

„I killed men,“ he stated in all seriousness.

„So did I,“ you returned, enjoying the blindsided expression on his face. „I guess that equals it out.“

Bonnie Gold slowly found his grin again, stood with his hands up in surrender. „One point for you.“ He walked off but decided to come back once more. „If you’re willing to we should get in the ring together for a training. I think this could be interesting.“

Contemplating it, you stood as well, slowly backing up. „Tomorrow at seven. I promise I’ll go easy on you.“ Hearing him laugh at your words when you turned and left for the small lumber room, you had to grin again. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad having to keep your eyes on him. He was kinda… cute.

[emilystoryspot]

Bruces Bat Baby

This is a story I wrote about this post I saw this is my take on the Bruce part.

I originally posted this on my main right here I'm leaving it up but I'm posting the rest on this account

Bruce and I had met shortly after he had adopted Dick Grayson and quickly fell in love with him and everything about the Wayne heir. We got engaged around the time he adopted Cassandra Cain by this time Jason Todd had lived and died and lived again and the most recent Robin was Tim Drake. I went out most nights I also preferred to stay in and work the coms with Barbara Gordon. Then came Stephanie Brown she was a surprise to they the least but she wasn’t a shock like Damian was to the Bat family. Bruce had a biological son. Sure we weren’t married but we already had all these kids, it hadn’t occurred to me that he might want kids with me. Two years later we got married. We were at a calm and then the conversation of us having kids came back up two months after we got back from out honey moon.

I was sitting on the bed getting ready to crawl under the covers when Bruce came in and looked me in the eyes, “What about another kid?”

“Who’d did you find this time?” I asked wondering if he had found another kid on the side of the street, “Someone else try to steal the tires off the bat mobile.” I crawled across the bed, shoving my feet under the blankets and then the rest of my body. Bruce laid down beside me on top of the blankets, I cocked my head, “What?”

He smiled at me, kissed me on the head and then turned off the lights and the conversation wasn’t brought up again.

But two weeks later we had a gala event all the kids went a few of the titans came too, me and Bruce spent most of the night helping Lois and Clark on an article. That night Bruce and I had one too many drinks, we woke up that morning tangled in blankets with Bruce’s alarm going off.

He covered me up and kissed me on the head before he left for work, I had the day off. Dick came over from an off shift and after I got showered and changed he got into bed with me and we watched movies while Cassie, Steph, Damian , and Tim were all in school Barbra had work as a librarian. Luke and Duke also had work. So while Alfred cleaned the house Dick and I watched old movies and ate popcorn, Ace came to join us.

Dick fell asleep with his head on my shoulder and I think I fell asleep too because when I woke up to Jason who spent the day doing whatever taking the photo of the two of us, he saw I was awake and without having to say anything he got into bed laying down next to me and grabbing the remote and choosing the next movie. When I woke up again, Dick was gone and so was Jason in there place was Cassie and Tim who were crossed legged at the end of the bed Damian was curled up asleep, all three of them in their school uniforms.

Eventually we got up and moved to the dining room where I made the four of us lunch Alfred wasn’t too happy but he cleaned up.

A few days had passed and I was at work at Wayne Enterprises sitting in my office when suddenly a wave of nausea rushed over me. I raced to my private bathroom off from my office and threw up. I sat down on the floor with my head in my hands as another wave hit me.

I didn’t tell anyone about that. The sickness began to happen in the morning and Bruce caught on. For the first three or four days I had managed to get out of bed into the bathroom throw up and shower and change, but today Bruce followed me to the bathroom and held my hair back without a word. His large and calloused hands massaged my back as I leaned forward and heaved. When I was done I leaned into his embrace, he had a wet washcloth and wiped my face with it, folding it over he put in on my head as I caught my breath. “How long has this been going on?” Bruce left the washcloth on my head, i leaned my head back and stared at the ceiling, Bruce intertwined his fingers around me.

“A few days.” I went to lean forward and stand up but him hands caught me and with a wet slap the washcloth hit the floor. “Let me up.” it was a quiet whisper those last three words, “Its just the flu.”

“The flu?” He asked as I leaned forward away from his becoming embrace. Bruce placed one hand on my waist keeping me down and one on my forehead, I brought my hands up to his and kept the coolness of his skin on my head. “You’re burning up.”  He began to make slow movements to stand, “Lets get you into bed.” with one arm on my back and one under my legs he picked me up and carried me to the bed. “ill call you off work and ill tell Alfred to make you breakfast in bed.”

“Go to your meeting” He kissed me on the cheek,

“Ill have Dick check up on you when he gets back.” Bruce leaves for work knowing that after his shift today he wont be going on patrol, he will be crawling into bed with me.

A few minutes later, Alfred walks into the room, I’m sitting up ready for a breakfast tray, and he sets it down, overtop my legs the first thing i do is unroll my napkin and a pregnancy test falls into my hands, I look up at Alfred with my mouth open in shock, ”Master Bruce told me your symptoms, it could just be the flu but it could be a child.” I look away from him and look down at the light blue and purple stick, “Now close your jaw you’ll catch a fly, Mistress Anne.”

I utter a quick thanks before he leaves the room and closes the door, I stare at the stick i left on the mattress next to me, outside the door I hear Alfred tell the kids I’m sick and not to bother me before school. I can hear Jason doing the crossword on the bench in the hall outside of my room, my eyes never stray from the stick until I move the tray and head into the bathroom. I pee on the stick and sit on the floor with a timer on my phone set for two minutes.

Me and Bruce always had a family when we started dating he had Dick and I was here when he got everyone else, his own children, Gordon’s daughter, i was here when the accidents happened, Babs lost her ability to walk and when Jason died. I was here for them, so maybe if that stick says what i think it says they will all be there for me, I’ve been apart of this family for so long that sometimes it feels like because they all have the hero thing and yea I do it to but they do it more often and they all have that bonding of shared trauma and because I was raised in a middle class family, I will never have what Bruce and the kids have. My phone begins to buzz without looking I click the phone off and stand up. I look at the little plus sign on the stick. I get in the show and change into new pajamas and by the time I’m coming back into my room to hid the stick in my bedside table, the breakfast tray is gone.

After tucking the stick away on my bedside table I walk out of my room to the kitchen where Dick and Jason are arguing, they both stop when they see me, “Don’t stop on my account.”

I open a cabinet but due to the fact that I’m normally waring heels when i’m out of my room and not dark pink bunny slippers I couldn’t reach the crackers, Dick saw and without hesitation he grabbed it for me. He then put a hand on my head, “Fevers gone, how ya feeling?”

“Thank you,” I pull the box of crackers out of his hand and head to another set of cabinets to grab the peanut butter, “I’m feeling better.” Trying to contain the smile on my face as I pulled the butter knife out of a drawer. I sat down at the table and the two of them sat with me, “What were you two fighting about?”

The two of them sit at the counter with me and begin to rant about what happened on patrol last night, we laugh together and the moment Alfred sees me he lets me finish eating before he ushers me back to bed, both Jason and Dick wish me good luck as Alfred tucks me in, the two of them go back out on patrol.

I sit in bed with Ace until Bruce comes home, His shoulders are tense so when he sits on the edge of the bed I crawl over to him and begin giving him a shoulder rub. “How are you feeling, Dick said the fevers gone.”

I smile, “Better.” I begin to crawl to my bedside table and I pull the purple and white stick with the faded plus sign out I set it down and go back to rubbing his shoulders. “Turns out it wasn’t the flu.”

“Hmm” Bruce just leans into my massage, “What was it? A cold?”

“No” I pull back and grab the stick i then wrap my arms around him putting the plus in his line of sight. “I think we should go to the doctor before we start telling people,” Bruce grabs the stick out of my hands and stands up before turning to look at me, “I know its a lot, I think Alf-” Bruce has the biggest smile on his face, he puts his hands on waist and spins me around the room.

He sets me on the ground, one of my slippers flew off, he kisses me hard, keeping that cheeky grin of his, “Ill call the doctor, we’ll drop the kids off at school, Jason and Dick will patrol again, we will go out to lunch than  if its true.” He kisses me again, “We will have a family dinner in a few days.” I’m not sure how long we stood their and hugged and cried I also don’t remember going to sleep or driving the kids to school because next thing I know me and Bruce are sitting in the waiting room of the doctors office.

I don’t hear the nurse call the name or the doctor introduce herself I vaguely hear her explain what’s she’s gonna do I’m too busy thinking about when the baby was conceived, I think it was the night of the gala and so does Bruce that was a little under a month ago a little more than twenty two days, we should be able to hear the baby’s heartbeat. I put on the hospital gown and Bruce folds my clothes eventually the doctor walks back in.

She places cold gel on my stomach and Bruce’s hand is in mine. I turn my head to look at the screen and there it is a small looking peanut shape, “There it is.” The doctor points at the grey and white on the staticky screen and suddenly this is real, this is I sat on the bathroom floor when I knew the truth, I think I have known since that night that there was a baby inside me and I’ve always been a parent but now Ill actually be a mom, I didn’t know I was crying until Bruce wiped away my tears and then we heard it a small and tiny noise that whispered of love and screamed joy in both our ears a little heartbeat.

The doctor spoke to us some more, I got prenatal vitamins and other meds she thought I would need. She told Bruce about everything I would go through and then some, I got changed and we got lunch then headed home. Bruce showed the photos to Alfred before he even had his coat off. Alfred congratulated us, he was going to invited everyone to dinner next week. The two of them left me alone to go plan.

The next week goes by fast the only question I get are why I haven’t been out patrolling for the moment I’ve been shrugging them off but I think Damian is getting suspicious although he hasn’t said anything. Bruce has been getting up an hour early so that when I get morning sickness There’s towels and bottled water set up in the bathroom for me, He’s also been cutting back on his patrolling shifts and has been telling the kids that’s me and him are working on a project for work. When in reality we are working on plans for the nursery, we have kids but we’ve never had a baby before this was new territory, given we had eight months we had no idea what to do and we still are clueless.

Me and Bruce wore our dinner clothes to work, business causal we were in meetings all day, and eventually time was for dinner, we had made it so that only immediate members of the so called “Bat Clan” were allowed to dinner. Alfred cooked a chicken dinner with biscuits, mashed potatoes and gravy there was corn and peas as well. Dick was in his police uniform and Jason wore his normal clothes but with a tie on top of everything. Tim, Damian, Steph and Cassie were all wearing school uniforms, Duke and Luke also were wearing business casual and Babs was wearing a blouse and skirt.

They brought up old conversations and family photos to Steph’s famous food Instagram page, and to the last meme Tim tagged Bruce in.  Dick brings up a case he’s currently working on down at the GCPD and Jason says something inappropriate that makes everyone laugh. Cassie doesn’t say much but she nods and a smile appears on her face. As the conversation dies down Babs asks the question, “Is there a reason were having family dinner tonight, I don’t mind its just-”

“I’m pregnant.” I say the whole table is quiet, both me and Bruce are trying to take in everyone’s expressions.

“And during the remaining eight months i will be hanging up the cowl, the justice league doesn’t know yet why I’m giving up being batman.”

“This is real?” Jason says eyes wide.

Cassie lets out a laugh and signs congratulations.

“Baby names!” Stephanie pulls a pen out of her pocket and begins writing on her cloth napkin, I let out a laugh as Tim leans over to help her.

“You need boy names too!” Cassie leans over to read the names as Tim yells at Steph.

“Congrats you too.” Dick says nodding his head he then glances at Steph’s napkin that is upside down to him, “Does that say Dino Nugget?”

Jason leans over and reads the list, “I don’t think Batman is going ot name his child Baby Bat.”

The rest of the evening was spent it a cheerful mood and ended with Bruce showing everyone the ultrasound pictures.

The night was a success now came the hard part, preparation for the baby and the next nine months.

PART 2??? how was this

[pippki-writes]

An Ill-Fitting Name: Snippet 4

NOTES:

Snippet 1

Snippets 2 & 3

Features lyrics from Danny Schmidt’s “This Too Shall Pass”

Faoust belongs to @thebiggestnerd - she writes him, the healer (whose contribution I summarized in this snippet, I don’t think she comes up again much for our murderboy here so I didn’t go too in depth with her) - everyone else is mine.

Longer post, 8,066 words folks! Buckle up.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

The name is like an ill-fitting coat, but it’s either wear it, or go naked in the cold, metaphorically speaking. He knows Faoust will kill him, but he’s not dead yet.

The officer sitting outside the room tilts her chair back on its legs, in one ear her radio turned low and largely ignored, holding her phone out playing music and keeping her other ear tilted to the room and its occupant for signs of life. He listens to the music coming from her phone:

We think too big

We think our self is one whole thing

And we claim that this collection

Has a name and is a being

But deep inside

When every cell divides

Well, it sets upon the rule that states

Self-interest is divine

He scrapes out an involuntary cough, and the officer lets her chair fall forward as she twists to check on him.

She tries to interrogate him, but he can’t talk, and only whispers “no.” He writes on her notepad, “I’m expecting a visitor,” and refuses to communicate further. His intuition is that Faoust will come here for him eventually, though he doesn’t know how long Faoust will let him live. Maybe Faoust won’t come while he’s in the hospital. But hovering over the edge of the pain, death feels certain and he knows where it will come from.

Finally, a visitor arrives. He hears the footsteps approaching, certainly heavier than any of the nurses that have tended to him, and the sound of a respectful shuffling in place, acknowledging the officer guarding his hospital room.

A familiar voice speaks. “Hey. I’m here to see my friend Asmodai, officer…?”

He can hear the sound of the officer crossing her arms, but she neither gets up nor offers her name. “Don’t suppose you might be able to tell me what the hell happened to him and how he ended up here?”

“Nah, wish I could. Is he ok?”

“He’s not in great shape. I’m not a doctor but he’s bad off. And not the kind of bad off that happens accidentally.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Almost as crazy as whoever did this. You don’t have any ideas?”

“Nah. I’m not really an ideas guy. Just a guy who worries about my friends. Can I go see him or...?”

The officer gives a defeated little grunt. “Yeah, sure. Go ahead. We can talk later.”

Dorien walks into the room as though he belongs there. Machines. IVs. In the middle of the room, bed propped up, staring at him, there’s that bastard Asmodai. Dorien takes a moment to breathe, staring back, looking angry. Dorien reminds himself why he is here. Not to kill him. Not to bring retribution. Just information to help Faoust. He clenches and unclenches his hands.

It takes Dorien a moment to realize what Asmodai is doing. The slight, strange sound, chest heaving—he is, very quietly, laughing.

He hasn’t come to terms with how to refer to himself—he is no more Isaiah than he was Asmodai, but he supposes, out of respect for the wish of a self who once knew what it wanted, he will call himself Isaiah until it fits. Or until he’s dead.

Isaiah laughs until the sound breaks into a cough. For starters, this was not the visitor he was expecting. And he can see why he would have been drawn to Dorien. Tall, dark-haired, handsome, and vulnerable. So many of his favorite things. The wizard Asmodai, before he stole his name, had been much the same.

Dorien keeps himself in check, and comes closer to the bedside. He doesn’t want the officer to hear him.

“What’s so fucking funny?” Dorien growls quietly.

Isaiah frowns. Talking will be an effort. He can’t even breathe too deeply, thanks to Dorien’s best attempts to slowly crush his ribs the other night after what he tried to do to Faoust. This is merely a fact—he doesn’t feel particular malice over it. He tries to choose his words carefully, so as not to waste them. There’s no volume, only whispering, but even the whispers are so resolute, so final. The playfulness of Asmodai is gone.

“Too much...to explain. What ...do you want...to know?”

Dorien folds his arms, lest he be tempted to do anything. “C’mon, what do you think I’d be here wanting to know. The magic-blocking cuffs. How do we take them off? Where’s the key?”

Isaiah shakes his head. “Didn’t get...a key. Wouldn’t...have wanted it.”

Dorien glares down at the bastard who nearly succeeded at killing the love of his life, and proceeds to try to get information out of him while texting Faoust. The conversation is slow going. The answers Dorien gets are halting and unsatisfying.

Faoust texts Dorien: "I want to know what he thinks should happen next."

Dorien looks down at Asmodai. “So what do you think should happen next?”

Isaiah sighs, unfazed. “Talking...not exactly....easy. Paper? Pen? Your phone?”

Dorien looks around for paper. He’s dumb, but not dumb enough to hand over his phone. He finds a notepad and a cheap pen in the desk drawer, and throws them on Asmodai’s lap.

Isaiah scribbles, handwriting messy and difficult on the flimsy pad, “He kills me for what” a scribble then, crossing out an “As,” and the writing resumes, “I’ve done. Why wouldn’t he? It’s inevitable.”

Dorien tears the paper off the notepad and holds it up, taking a picture to send to Faoust. “You’ve really fucked up, Asmodai.”

Isaiah’s mouth twitches a little at the name.

Above the top of the note, in the picture, Faoust can see Asmodai staring at the camera. There is no fear, nothing pathetic in the way he looks. Resolute. Certain. Final.

Faoust frowns. He had hoped for a bit more fight. But this is sort of like putting down a rabid dog at this point. It's not enjoyable for anyone involved.

Faoust: "tell him I'm disappointed that it came to this"

Faoust: "tell him I'll be there soon. As soon as my magic is back"

Dorien reads his phone, and before he can speak another note is being waved at him that reads “tell him come talk to me himself. This is fucking ridiculous.” Dorien sighs and snatches the note, snapping a picture for Faoust. There is a touch of defiance in Isaiah’s eye.

Faoust's lip curls in irritation and a tiny bit of embarrassment. Fine.

Faoust makes his way to the hospital, to the third floor, to the charge nurse.

“Looking for my friend,” says Faoust, “A John Doe?”

The charge nurse points with a pen. “The room with the officer. There’s already a visitor and technically I shouldn’t let too many people visit at once, but you know what? The world is hell. This hospital is hell. Go nuts.”

“Amen,” Faoust replies, heading over to the officer. “Hi, I'm here for my friend. I guess I have to answer questions first?”

The officer squints up at him suspiciously. “Damn, did the city call a prettyboy convention and I missed the memo?” She lets the chair rest back on all four legs. “I dunno, what do you know about what happened to your friend?”

“Not much. We were out partying, I know pandemic and all, but spare me the lecture. I told him goodbye and to call me when he got home but he never did.” Faoust pauses. “I heard he's bad. Maybe a hit and run?”

“Sure. Sure. Right.” The officer eyes him for a moment. “You’re a better liar than your friend. Go on in.”

“Liar? I- ugh. Fine.” He gives up on the officer and goes in the room.

“Alright you piece of shit. I'm here. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Isaiah looks at Faoust appreciatively. Yeah, he can see why he did all that shit. He sighs, wishing he could just fucking talk, and settles for hurriedly writing on the notepad.

Dorien mutters softly to Faoust. “He can’t talk..apparently.”

Faoust chuckles a little. “I should expect so.”

Isaiah rips off the note and holds it out. It begins with “A” scratched out and then “I resented the power you had over me. Wanted you to suffer. Wanted to kill you, and Dorien, and take your name, take your power. And didn’t want to kill you. Wanted to fuck and kill with you. Poorer judgment won out. Tried to make you suffer.” He sighs, frustrated at the time it takes to write, already writing on a new note.

Faoust reads the note and sighs. It was just as he thought.

“I wanted to just keep it fun and casual.” Faoust grits out through his teeth, “Why did you have to complicate things?”

Isaiah tosses Faoust a finished note: “No point in apologies. Won’t change what was done. No actions to right it” and starts writing a response to the question, tapping the pen on his chin, thinking.

“Wasn’t as fun fucking and killing without you. Didn’t like that.”

“That's called friendship, you absolute dolt.”

Isaiah pauses, and writes “Asmodai didn’t do well with having friends.”

Faoust runs his hands through his hair in exasperation. “Wait-Asmodai? Third person? Who the fuck are we talking to then?”

Isaiah makes a face. It’s difficult to explain. He writes. “I am. Was. Asmodai. For too long I think.”

He pauses, rolls his eye. He doesn’t feel like Isaiah either.

“I did what he did. But don’t feel what he felt, anymore. Memories, yes. Feeling? No.”

Faoust pauses. “So is..is Asmodai gone?”

“Depends on what you mean. The me that felt what he—I felt?”

Isaiah makes a quiet frustrated noise and slams the pen down. He is so tired of writing. He jots another note, mindful of trying to do magic around either of them. “Can I try magic on my voice? You mind?”

Faoust shrugs. “Go for it.”

Isaiah holds his right hand around his throat, eye closed. Healing has never been his strong suit, but he knows enough to get by. He just needs to be able to talk. His hand glows faintly.

When he speaks, his voice is rough, not much volume to it but it’s more than a whisper.

“If I don’t feel the things I felt when I called myself Asmodai, am I Asmodai?”

Faoust thinks. This complicates matters. “I'll be frank. If I were to leave you be, what would you do? Don't lie to me.”

“I would leave you alone.” Isaiah shrugs. “The things I ...Asmodai...I felt, I know them. Factually. I don’t feel them anymore.” He looks at Faoust sharply. “But I am responsible for what I did.”

Faoust thinks for a moment. “This is complicated. I'll need some time with this. What do you think you'll do when you're out of the hospital?”

“What do you mean, when I’m out of the hospital? You’re going to kill me. No further planning needed.”

“Well, I was thinking about waiting when you got out of the hospital regardless.”

Isaiah sighs. “Wish I’d known that sooner. Might’ve kept this magical existential crisis at bay.” He shakes his head. “No. Probably not. Asmodai—I. Fucked up too much. There was no way he...I...would win. It’s certain. You will kill me.”  He shakes his head again.

“Look. I don't want to kill you. Asmodai. At all. At this point it's about putting down an animal. That's all. And now there's this whole thing that you're not even who I knew anymore? This complicates things. Shit, if I were to kill you, it wouldn't even feel right.”

Isaiah makes a frustrated noise. “Fuck. The only reason I’m like this is because you’re going to kill me.”

“Do you want me to kill you?”

Isaiah dodges the question. “Back when I started killing to take power and names, I bound my own name away, far beyond my memory, and it would only come back if I was certain I was going to die. So I could die not as whatever fucking asshole whose name I stole. But as myself. Or at least. In the name I was born with, right?

“I was Asmodai. I was happy being Asmodai. But now?

“I’m no more Asmodai than I am this damn name my shit mother gave me.”

Faoust thinks. “Well, look. Fine. I'll kill you. Put you down. But I have to wait. I can't do anything until I have my magic back.”

Isaiah twists his lips a little. “Hm. Can’t help there. Told your boy here, I don’t have a key for the cuffs.”

This whole time, Dorien has just been watching, arms crossed and not believing this bullshit.

“Yeah,” Faoust says, “I heard. I've just got to wait. So you've got to wait.”

Isaiah sighs again. “Isaiah. Isaiah James. My name.” He shrugs. “Me. Not me.”

Isaiah twists his lips briefly in disgust at the taste of his own name on his tongue. “If you’re going to kill me, you ought to have my name.”

Faoust nods and rubs his face. “Look, I'll put you down. I will. But it's going to take like at least a week for me to get my magic back.”

Isaiah gives another shrug. “You know where to find me. I know what I’ve done. It’s only right.”

“Alright. You're not going anywhere?”

Isaiah gives him a flat look. “Where and how the hell would I manage to do that?”

“I mean, you've got magic. I don't. You could pull out some magic to take yourself somewhere.”

Isaiah rubs his fingers together on his right hand, little sparks arcing between them as he stares vacantly at his hand. “Where would I go? For what purpose? I know my fate.”

Faoust nods, satisfied. “Alright. Well then, we'll be on our way. You've got my number.”

Isaiah nods, dismissing the sparks. “I’ll be waiting.”

Isaiah wonders if it’s worth healing himself--physically, at any rate. He closes his eye and takes stock of all his pain. So many choices. And what else is he supposed to do with his time? The burns, he thinks, he will work on those. He hovers his right hand over his burned forearm, wrapped loosely in the day’s fresh gauze, and slowly works a healing spell, distracted by memories of the fight. Remembering the moment it all turned on him, when help came for Faoust while he had no one. He shakes his head, his thoughts wandering around. So many emotions that ruled him that he’s no longer bound by. Though perhaps he should be. He ought to be more angry. But he is mostly hollowed out. He does not even notice when his thoughts slip over the witch and his magic doesn’t so much as flicker, the healing steadily and slowly knitting in his skin.

Those were Asmodai’s problems.

The worst part is the waiting. Or perhaps the worst part, right now, is the burns on his arm—his healing magic is slow, the process tedious, and his head is empty of any warming memory to draw upon to make the healing go faster. There are memories, so many memories, but as he turns his mind to each of them in turn he feels nothing he can pull from. Perhaps it would have been better not to restore the nerve endings that had been burnt away—as they return, so too returns the opportunity for fresh pain to scream through his senses. And the drugs have trouble working their wonders as his magic interferes with the natural order of his body. Too late now, he’s already started this project. When the nurses aren’t looking in on him, he hovers his hand over the burned arm and continues the laborious process of working healing magic. Healing was never his forte. It still isn’t. Good to know, though it still seems like all he knows is a catalogue of things he was, and now isn’t.

Though perhaps, Isaiah thinks, it’s pointless to dwell on. Does he need that badly to know who he is now, if he’s only going to die? Not that he wants to die. Though, he can tell, Asmodai didn’t want to die in a particularly crazed and desperate way that Isaiah no longer feels. He doesn’t want to die, but then, he doesn’t feel a clear sense that he wants much of anything right now. From the moment the spell he placed upon himself fell away, he has simply accepted the fact of his death. Imminent. Inevitable. Deserved.

Asmodai was awful—not in a way that Isaiah feels, merely as a summary of fact considering the things that he’d done. The drives that motivated him. But to be fair, Isaiah had not been a good person either. No. He had been awful too. Killed people. Tortured them. Enjoyed it. Sought power beyond his measure, and took it.

Killed the dark wizard who taught him everything.

Sealed himself away.

What had he thought would happen, if this spell had ever had cause to come undone? He can’t remember, but he is pretty sure he would not have guessed it would leave him like this. So...uncertain.

Regret implies a level of sadness Isaiah doesn’t feel. He...wishes he had been someone different though. He wishes he had acted differently. Had recognized his limits. Recognized battles he wouldn’t win, and had the sense not to fight them.

The nurse surely notices when Isaiah’s arm does not look as bad off today as it did yesterday, putting fresh gauze on, but says nothing. Discreetly checks the patient chart—yes, third degree burns. It definitely said the patient had third degree burns. But you don’t last long in this town by asking inconvenient questions. Since the patient is conscious now, staring out the window, the nurse offers him his phone from his belongings and plugs it in for him. There’s a crack across the screen, but the phone works.

Isaiah has been working on healing his arm. It is such a slow, deliberate process. He isn’t sure why he’s doing it, but now that he’s started he’s committed to continuing. After all, what else has he got to do? His arm is still a mess of burnt tissue and pain, fresh nerve endings and the testament to his limitations.

Later, he looks through his phone, deleting pictures that bring him no particular joy to look at. Eventually he texts Faoust, “Have you decided how you’ll do it?” and nothing else.

Faoust: “something quick. Could stab you right in the heart.”

The heart had been Asmodai’s favorite, ripped from his victims—sometimes raw, other times he’d toast them before devouring them whole.

Isaiah: “poetic. fitting.”

Faoust: "look man. I really don't want to do this. You could go about your business. I don't care"

Isaiah sighs, and leaves the message on read for a few minutes. He thinks.

Isaiah: “I did wrong by you. I accept responsibility for it.”

Faoust: "and I'm telling you it's fine."

Isaiah waits again before responding.

Isaiah: “now I’m the one that needs to think on that”

Faoust: "Asmodai tried to kill me. He failed. You're here now. Not the same as Asmodai. It's not the same kill for me. Look, I beat the shit out of you. That should cover it. Do you really want to die?"

Isaiah sighs to himself.

Isaiah: “no, I don’t”

Faoust: "then I'm giving you your fucking out. Take it."

Isaiah pauses. Again, Faoust giving him the opportunity not to die, after everything he...Asmodai...he did. After so many times he honestly deserved to die. He was a warped and twisted thing, not right, and surely not to be trusted. But fuck. He didn’t really want to die.

Isaiah: “...ok.”

Isaiah: “fine”

Faoust: "want me to call a healer for you?"

Isaiah: “...seriously?”

Faoust: "otherwise you're going to be stuck at the hospital forever. No offense but I want you out of here."

Isaiah: “sure, sure. If I’m healing myself it’ll take forever”

Faoust: "you can't kill her"

Isaiah: “of course”

Isaiah thinks about the warning, which is fair, considering his history. He doesn’t even feel like killing anyone right now. Which is strange to him. He wonders to himself as he waits if this is the right thing to do, not insisting Faoust kill him. If he’s just avoiding fate and what he deserves. But when Faoust arrives in his hospital room with a healer, and she uses magic to transport the three of them out of his hospital room, he just watches quietly, making no protest. The empty alley she takes them to is cold, and Isaiah’s broken body falls to the ground painfully without a bed beneath him anymore.

He sucks it up, grits his teeth, and withstands the pain and the cold. Not out of any sense of pride, but because he feels he deserves it. He lists out for the healer the procedures the doctors had done, along with his own meager attempts at healing, and in turn, she tells him what she’ll be able to do. The metal they used to set his bones will always bring him some pain and discomfort, and there’s nothing she can do for his eye, the curse--

“The eye,” says Isaiah, touching his cheek lightly, “has been there a long time now. It’s fine.”

The magic of healing is painful, and there is a lot of it to be done. Isaiah doesn’t scream, not the way he did when Faoust beat him in the first place. He endures, and tries to focus on the fact that he deserves this pain. This doesn’t stop a few strangled screams and growls from bubbling up. Faoust watches impassively, satisfied.

When it’s finished, Isaiah breathes heavily for a moment, feeling every nerve on fire, taking stock of how he feels. He sits up, slowly, impressed and in awe. He gives thanks to the healer, to Faoust, and stands up shakily on knees that are no longer shattered. He summons up the illusion of clothes over his hospital gown, with no idea where he ought to go, what he ought to do. When Faoust tells him to get the fuck out of here, he readily agrees. Not the first town he’s been kicked out of. Always violent. Always deserved.

He could teleport himself, but where the hell would he go? There’s nowhere he belongs. There’s a dull ache in his bones, and he picks a cardinal direction and starts walking toward it. The speed doesn’t matter. Isaiah doesn’t strictly need actual clothes. He could use magic to keep himself warm. But the first window shop he passes, he swaps his hospital gown for the outfit on display, and keeps walking. He walks until he’s passed by a sign indicating leaving/entering, the liminal space of one town bleeding into another, goes to the first clean motel he can find, uses his magic to procure a room, and passes out after having walked for hours.

At the hospital, a call is placed to 911. A patient is missing.

The officer assigned to take the report is the same one who had been guarding the room when Dorien and Faoust visited. With the most deadpan expression, she questions the charge nurse on duty, intoning dully, “wow, just fucking vanished, huh?”

She files a missing persons report for “Asmodai / Isaiah James,” because in spite of trying not to hear things she doesn’t want to have to question, she hears them anyway. She makes note of possible contacts / persons of interest, “Dorien” and “Faoust,” and submits her report to see if she can get away with not following up on anything further.

She doesn’t even bother running any checks on any of the names. She doesn’t find anything out about a decades-old missing persons report for a runaway boy of the name Isaiah James out of Ohio. If anyone bothered to fingerprint the victim at all to try to ID him while he was unconscious, the prints have been lost.

After all, a lot of people go missing in this town.

It’s just one more.

Her supervisor literally flips a coin to decide if such absolute bullshit shoddy work will be accepted. Tails. That’s a nope. He rejects the report, and sends her a CAD message: “hit the streets and try again sweetie.”

Officer Dannic “Dani” Voros swears, loudly, in her patrol car in the hospital parking lot, and slams her computer shut. Growls, and opens it again to search for any information she can find about Dorien and Faoust. If she can find anything, she’ll talk to them at least.

Here’s what she finds: no drivers licenses. No arrest records. No voter records. Nothing in any database she has access to. No hospital records, which no, her friend in the hospital records should NOT have looked up for her probably but dammit, this was important. Well, not important to her, but it’s what she was supposed to be doing and she was getting very annoyed with the lack of any hints of paper trail for those two.

She starts angrily and haphazardly googling search terms, and some combination of tall, mysterious, handsome, and Dorien does bring back a tabloid article about the enigmatic artist, which brings up several printed interviews and connections to a particular pre-teen punk rock band apparently bankrolled by Mr. Dorien Godforbidhehavealastname, and the names of its musicians. Actual names. First and last names, unlike those recordless bastards Dorien and Faoust. She searches the names. Property tax records. Bingo. A lead. And an address. She puts the patrol car in drive and heads out. One conversation largely conducted through the few-inch gap of a chained door later, Officer Voros has both probably offended another citizen with an inappropriate joke, and obtained an address for the two handsome strangers that called on her missing person.

The cold rain makes all this work extra annoying. She debates putting off the follow up until more clement weather. Or just never. Reluctantly she puts the patrol car in drive and heads to the address.

She looks at the apartment building as she pulls up. No, correction. She looks at the giant skeleton covered in Valentine’s decorations outside the apartment building as she pulls up. The apartment building itself is an afterthought. As she arrives, the weather around the apartment changes. Suddenly it is clear and 59 degrees.

Officer Voros just stares at the atmosphere and blinks at it like it has personally offended her. She twists in her seat to look back down the street at the weather there, then stares at the apartment again, and sinks back in her seat for a moment, closing her eyes, and thinks to herself, “thiiiiiiis. iiiiiis. some buuuuuuuullshiiiiiiiiit.”

She sighs a very angry sigh, gets out of the patrol car, and goes up to the appropriate door. She raps on the door with her very best authoritative knock.

Faoust opens the door and clocks the cop. “Hm.”

Officer Voros puts her hands on her hips and brightens comically. “And they said I’d never find the secret prettyboy convention! Those bastards once again were wrong.” She smiles, and doesn’t offer her name. “Evening citizen. I’m hoping you might help me with this absolute crazy missing persons case I’ve been cursed with.”

“Oh yeah? Who?”

“Why, your dear friend or whatever bullshit you said at the time. Asmodai? Isaiah? You know, the guy SOMEBODY in this cursed plane of existence beat all to hell and put in the hospital.”

“Wait, wait, wait. How did he go missing? He couldn't stand, let alone walk? How did you lose him?”

“Yeah! That’s the crazy part, he just. Fucking. Vanished. Shattered kneecaps, pelvis, and all. Gone. Between you and me, that’s on the hospital. We weren’t watching him anymore at that point, but now it IS my problem to, you know. Figure out what the fuck happened and make sure there’s not a homicide investigation that should be happening here.”

Faoust shakes his head in disbelief as he tries to come up with a plan. “I could give you his motel room and location if you want? I mean, I haven't heard from him since I went to go see him?”

“Sure, sure. And it’s not like it’s illegal for him to leave the hospital. If he’s fine, I just need to lay eyes on him. It just seems real fucking suspiciously inconceivable how he’d have managed that in the state he was in, ya know?”

“Yeah, no, for sure. Let me go get some paper.”

Faoust leaves her at the front door and digs around in drawers looking for paper and pen. She stands at the front door, looking inside, pondering Faoust the whole while. He hands her a note with the address of the motel Asmodai had been staying at.

“Let me know if you find anything, yeah?”

Officer Voros takes the paper. “Of course.” She takes a blank card out of her pocket, a generic business card for the police department that doesn’t have her name on it. She writes down a phone number and offers the card to Faoust. “You think of anything else helpful, call or text me. Or if your prettyboy friend Dorien knows anything either.”

“Dorien doesn't know anything. At all. Not a braincell up there. But I'll keep it in mind.” Faoust takes the card and pockets it.

“Thanks. Stay safe citizen.” She heads down the steps and back to her patrol car, looking at the address. She knows the motel.

Officer Voros looks back toward Faoust from her patrol car for a long minute before she pulls out. She doesn’t have any sort of proof necessarily, just a feeling that Faoust was lying quite smoothly out of every side of his head right to her face. She types up a field contact for alias Faoust along with the address before she leaves.

Asmodai’s motel room ends up being a dead end. There’s nothing obviously off about the room, but she gets a weird vibe. Still a suitcase here. Some knives. Nothing much else. She does not discover that the room is under a stolen credit card in another name. She doesn’t look up any other purchases that stolen card might have made to connect it to an abandoned rental car that was impounded on Faoust’s street. She types up her report and deletes “went on a wild fucking goose chase because my corporal is a dickhead” from the report.

Officer Voros swears loudly, because she realizes she didn’t ask Faoust if the mysteriously vanished bastard had. a fucking. cell phone number. She groans. She decides she’ll pretend to have thought of that tomorrow, because she doesn’t want to follow up now.

The weak and cloudy light of morning is scattered further by the cheap, hazy curtains pulled loosely across the window. Isaiah wakes up, still dressed in his stolen clothes where he passed out on top of the covers. There it is—a dull ache in his bones, a twinge in his hips and knees as he pushes himself up to sit. He looks down at his palms, and they are smooth and untroubled, marked by nothing but the simple creases of where his hand folds. He flexes his left hand. The countless scars that had made a tangled nest there in his palm, the countless times he’d cut and called upon blood magic and done only a just-good-enough job of closing the wounds, when he remembered to heal himself at all, they’re all gone.

Isaiah doesn’t even have a knife, he realizes. His...Asmodai’s favored knives were either in the clothes left in the hospital, in the rental car, or in the motel room he has no intention of returning to. But it feels like he should have a knife. He has no money, but money isn’t too necessary when you’re flush with magic and short on moral qualms against stealing.

He heads out for the day to get a knife, zipping up his stolen coat. Something simple. New. He goes to the nearest outdoors store and sees a nice Benchmade folding knife with a black-coated blade and white handle and feels drawn to it. With an effortless bit of magic, the knife disappears from the case and appears in his pocket as he leaves the parking lot.

Isaiah flips the knife open experimentally, admires it, turning his wrist this way and that to see the sides of the blade. He unlocks the blade and closes it again, clipping the knife in his pocket. He doesn’t have a plan for it, but it felt appropriate in his hand.

Isaiah has been somewhat skirting around thinking about this fact, but taking the knife in his hand he has to confront it. He’s not someone who can go work a 9 to 5 job, take a little paycheck home, find someone sweet to love him and love in turn. Whatever he does next isn’t going to be some contented kind of life. That wasn’t the lot he was born to.

What he is good at...all he has ever been good at, is violence.

He walks slowly back to the current motel. He takes the knife out of his pocket, opening and closing it as he goes, thinking to himself. Magic, and violence. Magic and violence. This is all he’s ever known. Even if he wanted to do something else, how could he, at this point? He’s not a good person. And surely nothing he is capable of can be used for good ends. He hasn’t killed anyone in so many days now, and strangest of all, doesn’t feel particularly compelled to. Not averse to it either. But the stirring in his blood that craved to see the icy glint of fear through tears before an untimely death doesn’t move him, for now.

Officer Voros follows up with Faoust the next night, gets a phone number for her missing person, and puts in a request for a ping before taking a nap in her patrol car. She’ll follow up further in daylight hours. Before ending her night shift, Officer Voros tries to call the phone number Faoust provided for the missing person. It’s almost 6am, of course he doesn’t answer. She leaves a voicemail indicating for him to call the communications center so they can speak.

The next day, Officer Voros, as soon as assembly is done, goes to her patrol car and puts herself on a follow up before any calls can be assigned to her. She tries calling the number again. Isaiah looks at his phone. A blocked number. He silences the phone without answering, because who would be calling him? He hasn’t bothered checking his voicemail either, since he didn’t recognize the number that called. He’ll check it eventually. He sits in his motel room, opening and closing his stolen knife.

Officer Voros checks the latitude and longitude of the ping. Another motel. It’s within a mile of what technically counts as her jurisdiction, so technically she CAN go investigate her own damn self, OR she can call her counterparts in the next town over to check for her. She debates which sounds like more work. With an agonized groan that can surely be heard two counties over, Officer Voros puts her patrol car in drive and heads for the motel.

Officer Voros checks with the front desk, but thanks to his use of magic there’s no one checked in by the names of Asmodai or Isaiah James. She pulls up the coordinates on her phone to get as close as possible to the ping, and starts knocking on doors fruitlessly, starting with the ground floor. She has an idea, and dials the number again, and faintly hears a ring from a couple doors down. A little excited in spite of herself, she hustles down to the door and knocks.

Asmodai would’ve checked through the peephole before opening the door, if he opened it at all. Isaiah does not care, and opens the door as he silences his phone again, looking up from the phone at the officer.

“There you are, you mysterious bastard! Alive and unmurdered, and my hatred of paperwork thanks you for that.”

Isaiah feels a slight needle of panic, if only because he has done a lot of things that would not put him on the good side of the police. His eye darts briefly to her neck and back to meet her eyes.

“Here I am. Alive. Unmurdered, as you say.”

Officer Voros looks him up and down, frowning. This is definitely the same guy, that’s not a common scar after all, but he’s clearly not just unmurdered, but very significantly undamaged. “Didn’t you have a hell of a lot of shattered bones?”

Isaiah shrugs. “Modern medicine is a miracle.”

Officer Voros just blinks at him. She doesn’t believe him for a moment. “And I don’t suppose you might be able to tell me how you managed to make your way so secretly out of the hospital that they felt compelled to report you as a missing person?”

“Sorry, no. Not sure what the miscommunication was there. Quite obviously, I left the hospital.”

“Quite. Obviously. Of course.”

Isaiah smiles wanly. “Am I in trouble?”

Officer Voros continues looking him over suspiciously. “I suppose not. You left your paperwork from the hospital.” She hands him a stack of paperwork and billing statements. “Somehow.”

Isaiah takes the papers. “Oh, thanks.”

“And the belongings you came in with. Are still at the hospital.”

“Oops.”

“And a bunch of shit I’m guessing belongs to you is all left at another cheap motel.”

“You think?”

“No,” Officer Voros snaps. “I try to avoid thinking whenever I can. But I do think some weird ass shit is involved here with you.”

Isaiah’s hand twitches slightly, and he presses his lips together. “Hm.”

“But shit being weird isn’t my problem. Not my jurisdiction. So I suppose I don’t give a fuck. Glad you’re not murdered. Take care. Call your friends, they’re pretending to be worried about you.” She heads back to her patrol car.

Isaiah slowly lets out a tensely held breath.

Officer Voros sits in the parking lot, wrapping up her report. She tries calling Faoust from her blocked number. He answers, not knowing any better.

“Solid citizen! Faoust right? Your favorite friend-finding officer here. Found your friend.”

“Oh my god! Where was he? Is he ok?”

“He’s better than ok, considering the state I last saw him in. Damn near miraculous recovery. He’s just outside of town, another motel not far off the highway.”

“Oh man, thanks so much for finding him. I'll have to go see him. Are you able to give me the address?”

“That depends, are you going there to murder him?”

“Why the hell would Igo there to murder him?”

“Aaaa I’m just fucking with you. I’ve got a nice neat solved missing persons case here and if you went and murdered him it would just be an assfuck of paperwork that I don’t want to have to deal with is all.”

“Fucked up joke, officer.”

“Yeah, file a complaint on me if you’d like. Oh, right, address,” she says, and gives him the address and room of the Quality Inn where Isaiah is staying.

“Thank you. Despite the fucked up joke, I'm glad you found him.”

“Just doing my sworn duty and all that. Stay safe citizen,” she says and hangs up.

Without fully realizing it, Officer Voros has solved the first missing persons case in the department in nearly a year.

Officer Voros always keeps a spare portable radio among her belongings. She managed to get it more or less off the record, so that when she inevitably loses track of her actual radio again, she can make do with the backup until the original eventually resurfaces, and not get all manner of shit from her corporal for losing her radio AGAIN. She doesn’t think hard on the fact that her radio is once again MIA. It will turn up in time.

In his motel room, Isaiah switches the radio on, and fiddles between channels.

Isaiah lays on the bed, one hand manipulating the knife—open, closed, open, closed, each motion with a satisfying little sound—the other hand resting on the radio on his chest, occasionally following the chatter of traffic to a side channel. An officer keys up, her voice annoyed and muttering over sounds of entitlement in the background—“6676 to 200, switch to 2”—and Isaiah flips the radio to channel 2, partly because he is curious and partly because it sounds like the officer from the other night.

The officer keys up, he’s quite sure it’s her, and a voice that sounds like it expects the world laid compliantly at its feet cuts through the backdrop of everything the officer says

6676: 200 you on?

—this is AMERICA, I have RIGHTS, I demand to speak to your SUPERVISOR, I—

200: go’on whatcha got

—what is your NAME, no WHAT is your NAME—

6676: *you can hear the eye roll in her voice* can you just come over here and deal with this.

There’s a final indignant “do you even KNOW” in the background before the supervisor cuts over the traffic to advise he’s en route. Isaiah’s thumb closes the knife again with a sense of finality. He doesn’t care about the officers, but the woman in the background had the sort of voice you’d love to cut right out of her throat.

Isaiah sits up, goes to put the radio aside but pulls it back in front of him again. He focuses on the radio, whatever traces of grit and grime and little skin cells from the officer still stick to the plasticky radio, and does a tracking spell. He switches the radio off, puts it on the bedside table, and grabs his jacket on the way out the door.

Isaiah returns to his motel room. Hands clean. Knife clean.

He did not appear with an ear-splitting bang, as the witch does. He knows ways to move through shadows and though it isn’t instantaneous, it’s a hell of a lot quieter. Isaiah remained in the shadows, waiting. There, yes, the officer from the other night, and there, that must be 200, the human embodiment of an industrial refrigerator crossed with a boulder, and there. Jabbing her finger, practically frothing at the mouth, hair crisply cut, every line in her body set in the conviction of her own righteousness and that she should get what she wants. Isaiah didn’t even try to listen to what she was saying. It didn’t matter. He waited.

When the officers left, the woman turned to her minivan to get in. Or, that was what she intended to do. But she found as she walked, it was like her body was being pushed and pulled, and the sound had left her voice, and she walked into the shadows across the parking lot.

Without saying a word, Isaiah came up quickly behind her and slit her throat, and before a drop could hit the concrete sent her body and all its rapidly spilling blood deep, deep into the earth below.

Magic cleaned the knife. Magic cleaned his hands. He slipped back into the shadows and hurried to get the hell back out of Faoust’s town.

Isaiah returned to his motel room, everything clean. Feeling a certain ...satisfaction? Correctness? A bit of lost unease dissolved away within him.

Of course, Isaiah reflects on how different this murder was. He flicks the knife, open and closed. When he thinks of himself as he was, he has gotten in the habit of thinking of himself as an entirely separate person now. Asmodai was. Asmodai would have. So on. Asmodai would have taken far more enjoyment from the killing. Asmodai would have tasted the blood on the knife. Asmodai would have savored the delicious fear in her eyes, for as long as possible. Asmodai would have had the possibility of someone to share the experience with, though he resented so much about that fact. Asmodai was an idiot.

Isaiah switches the radio back on, quietly, to have something to listen to, since that’s all he has.

When Officer Voros was handling the latest missing person case early this morning, part of her was perversely satisfied—maybe that bitch descended back to hell where she belonged—and that other part of her, the part made of intuitions that guessed too correctly, that had long ago tried to bring up things that had since gone ignored, the part that she did her best to keep buried, that part felt a sharp jolt of unease. She was, officially, the last person to have seen the missing person. There was a security camera on the other side of the parking lot, and the footage made no sense. The victim—victim? Why was she already thinking victim?—missing bitch, then, started walking to her car, and then turned, and walked off to the far side of the parking lot, into grainy shadow. It didn’t look like someone had called out to her, she just...decided to go on some random bitch walk. In the dark of early morning hours, Officer Voros walked around the spot she went off to, clicking on her flashlight, looking for clues. Nothing.

It seemed appropriate for Isaiah to return to murder on his own...it’s all he knows. He’s not suddenly a good person. He’s not full of remorse for everything he did. It’s all just facts. Things that happened that can’t be changed.

He listens to the radio again today, and thinks with a sort of mirthless chuckle how hypocritical it would be for him to kill some of the people he’s hearing about. “If I were cutting throats for that, have to start with myself,” he thinks, over and over and over. Asmodai craved victims, sought them out. Isaiah is content to see what serendipity will bring.

Isaiah struck out into town yesterday to find a charger for his stolen radio. Listening gives him something to do besides think. He could have just gotten a commercial police scanner, or used an app on his phone to listen in, but that didn’t have the same appeal. He listens carefully, mentally keeping track of the addresses and where the officers are, when it’s announced anyway. The officer from the other night he can find easily enough, but without addresses and nothing to trace them with, magically speaking, finding any of these other officers would be incredibly difficult. Well, to do in a timely fashion anyway.

So he listens, and waits, hoping to feel that same jolt of dead certainty, knowing a voice spoke that would be his to kill.

Isaiah knows. An officer keys up “put me out with an animal problem at” and gives an address, and just before the radio cuts out he hears a man in the background, derisive, say “I don’t understand, it’s just a stupid—“ before being cut off by the end of the transmission. That voice. He felt it, like a nail being slashed at high speed across a chalkboard, a string plucked so hard it snaps, THAT is a man he needs to kill. He is equal parts thrilled and yet feels the calm certainty slipping over him. His knife is ready. He knows where to go. He slips out into the cold rain.

Sliding through shadows. Waiting. The man goes inside, alone. Isaiah slips inside, without a word, the only sound made is his knife blade locking into place. The man finds his voice is gone. The man walks toward Isaiah, against his own will, and kneels before him, fear shining in his eyes. Isaiah looks down, cold, comes around from behind, threads his fingers in the man’s hair and pulls back, hard, exposing his neck. He draws the blade firm and fast across the neck, and like the woman before Isaiah sends the body hundreds of feet into the ground below before a drop of blood can hit the floor.

He looks at the blood on the knife, for a moment, imagines the taste on his tongue like a mouth full of pennies. It doesn’t appeal to him, not right now. Magic cleans the blade, cleans the bit of blood on his hands, cleans the scene of any trace evidence, and Isaiah slips away.

- NEXT SNIPPET -