#idk why i have such a trauma around it I take HOURS

[albino-whumpee]

I´m studying to get into university and I come across chemistry again and suddenly my brain becomes the smoothest shiniest lil blob of fat you´ve ever seen. 

[stevesgother]

Savior Complex - S.H

Paring - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC - 1.9k

Warnings - Blood. Mention of vomit. Partial nudity. Let me know if I missed anything!

Authors note - This is my first fic...ever. Constructive criticism always welcome but pls be nice. Takes place directly after the events of S3. Hurt/comfort, angst, acknowledging Steve’s trauma bc damn.

Summary: ANGST, hurt/comfort, happy ending but not a lot of resolution, friends to ? lovers? idk its up to you!

Inspired by my favorite poem of all time, that has always reminded me a little bit of Steve.

“In this space right here that we have made for each other, you can say anything and I will not abandon you. Unwrap the worst things you have done. Watch me hold them up to the light and not even flinch”

The air inside Steve’s car was heavy with tension and the thick July heat.

You sat parked in his driveway, the rest of The Party having dispersed to their own homes; their parents waiting for them with open arms and misty eyes. 

Not you. 

And Certainly not Steve Harrington.

You and Steve weren’t what you would call “close”. Until now, that is. Shared trauma tends to have that effect. He knew you had a tumultuous relationship with your parents, and it didn’t take much deducing to realize his parents weren’t in the picture. Barely in Indiana, let alone spending anything close to quality time with their only son.

The idea of spending the last few hours of this nightmarishly long day in his big, empty house was sounding lovelier by the minute. On the grounds that it ‘wasn’t safe to be alone right now’. You didn’t read too much into it; he was right, after all. Part of you wonders if he just didn’t want to be alone. Sluggish, and noticeably more bloodied than you, Steve made his way to the front door with you in tow. His house was silent; eerily so. Everything pristine and well manicured, as if no one lived there at all. 

“There’s a guest bedroom upstairs, and a bathroom down the hall, to the right. Towels in the cabinet next to the shower.” He doesn’t even look at you as he says it. You try not to feel like you’re burdening him, blaming his avoidance on the exhaustion and not the unwelcome presence of you in his home.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” He finally meets your gaze. The shiner he sports on his left eye is still swollen, but less so. The front of his sailor suit you once thought so endearing, is now stained with blood and vomit.

“You’re bleeding.” You say quietly. “You have -” you wince, “- open wounds on your face Steve. Probably a concussion too and that’s if we’re being modest.”

He wears a tight-lipped expression you can’t quite read. You can tell he’s frustrated, and his exhaustion is bone deep. It nags at your heart. Maybe that’s why you don’t just drop it when he answers you.

“Not my first rodeo, I’ll be fine just-” He pauses, “go shower, and get some rest. God knows this shit won’t just be over come tomorrow.”

You take a tentative step forward. “Please just…just let me help. I can disinfect the cuts around your eye. I was a girl scout! Though in hindsight I realize how useless that sounds and-” you’re rambling now; nervous.

“Stop.” You’re taken aback slightly by his tone, you haven’t known Steve to act hostile. Not in a long time. “I don’t need your help, and I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not ‘pity’ Steve! Why is it so hard for you to believe someone might want to help you?” You take a step forward from where you stand a few feet from him. You reach up to touch his forehead with the hope of better assessing his injuries.

‘Enough!” He swats your hand away, “God, I should’ve never offered for you to stay here. You think you’re some type of savior, but you’re not.”

His words feel like a knife to the chest. You knew what he was trying to do, you knew he didn’t really mean the things he said. Not when he’s like this. For the first time since you arrived tonight, you thought of how many times he’s had to come back to this empty, soulless house all alone. Damaged, emotionally and physically. Wounds he’s had to patch alone. No gentle caress of another’s hands. Just the stinging of antiseptic in his nostrils, and the heaviness of everyone he’s ever loved abandoning him.

“You don’t mean that.” You say, shaking your head in a disbelieving way.

He laughs, humorless, “Yes I do. I really, really do.” A bitter sharpness to his words. It burns like liquor washing down your throat. “Go.” 

“No!” Now you’re the one raising your voice. “Being stubborn is for when someone is haggling you at a flea market. Not when someone is trying to love you.”

Love. You realize what you’ve said a beat too late, but you stand defiant despite it. You do love Steve. This fact, collecting cobwebs in the back of your brain for months, being spat out onto the floor in front of you both is what compels you to what you do next.

Steve, who was previously standing with this index finger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose, is now staring at you like a deer in headlights. Before either of you can blink, you’re closing the gap between the two of you, sure of yourself. You wrap him in a suffocating embrace and he struggles against your grip.

“Stop! Please I don’t need you-” He all but shouts. Still, you sense a dent in the armor.  A crack in the wall he’s spent so long building to keep you out; to keep everyone out.

Eventually, he stops struggling. His knees give out from underneath him as the trauma and the pain and the events of today catch up to him. But not just today; a year ago when his girlfriend broke his heart at Tina’s stupid party. When Michael Harrington cut him off on the grounds of him being a disgrace to the family name. Everything flooding back to him all at once. Everything he’s spent his youth avoiding.

You sink to the ground with him, still holding him tight. He stops making an effort to hide his sobs, but instead clings to you like you’re the only tangible thing keeping him here. You sit beside him, with one arm wrapped around his shoulders and your free hand cradling his head to his chest so he can hear your heartbeat. A heart that finally beats for him.

“I know.” You soothe. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” The hair you’re gently stroking, which is usually so voluminous and perfectly styled, is now dampened with blood and sweat.

“I’m sorry-” He sobs, “I'm so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t want you to be sorry. I’m not sorry.” 

He cries harder at that. Shoulders shaking and breath shallow, he looks at you. You cradle his sweet, bruised face in your hands. You think, like a pomegranate, Steve Harrington is beautiful, and worth the mess. Wiping his tears with your thumbs and careful to avoid the cuts and swelling that decorate his face, you give him a smile. Shy, but earnest.

“Can you take me to bed?” He asks you, eyes bleary.

–

Neither of you speak as you turn on the faucet and watch the porcelain tub fill with scalding hot water; still not hot enough to wash away the memories this day has tainted you both with forever. Tentatively, you lift your shirt over your head, and slip your shorts down your scraped legs, revealing your mismatched bra and underwear. A pang of guilt washes over you when you look down and realize Steve took the brunt of the Russian soldiers. He was the bravest and most selfless person you had ever met.

You give him a look that asks “is this okay?” as your fingertips brush the cotton of his ruined Scoops uniform. You aren’t sure what the boundaries are anymore. Momentarily Steve worries this will irreparably change things between you two. He nods anyway. You lift the shirt over his head, catching a glimpse at the real extent of his injuries. His ribs were badly bruised, and he had clotting cuts all over his abdomen. Something swirls in your stomach at the sight of his chest hair. You wish the circumstances of this moment were different.

He pulls his own pants and socks down with a hiss, eyes screwed shut, leaving you both in just your undergarments. He steps into the tub and slowly sinks beneath the hot water. You step in behind him, and he looks over his shoulder at you, a look of confusion contorting his features. You don’t bother to explain, for the fear that speaking would break the trance you both seemingly were under. You had built a space here for each other, one you didn’t want to leave just yet.

Sitting behind him now, you wrap your arms around his chest and pull him flush to you. You rest your chin in the space between his shoulder and his neck, and close your eyes. You can feel how he tries to match his breathing to yours; slow and rhythmic.

You reach up to the hanging shelf on the wall above your head, and grab the cedar and sandalwood body wash. The second you open the bottle, your senses are flooded with him. Only in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever get to smell his scent in any way other than passing. A slight brush of shoulders in the hallway; a friendly hug when you’d gotten back from a month long vacation.

With a dollop of body wash on a washcloth you found on the edge of the tub, you gently start to scrub the blood and grime off his freckled skin. Like this, you can see every birthmark, every scar, the way the hair at the nape of his neck curls up around his ears in the damp bathroom air.

Steve rests his calloused hand on your knee and squeezes. A silent reassurance that what you’re doing is okay, that he’s okay, that he’s here. Everything feels overwhelmingly intimate as your hands explore his body. You lather his thick, brown locks with the shampoo you found next to the soap. With a heavy sigh, Steve allows his head to fall back into the crook of your neck. He doesn’t tell you, but this is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for him.

You’re not sure how long the two of you sit in the tub together, but at some point he turns to face you, cupping your jaw in his larger hand. The look he gives you is so tender, you think you might cry. His caramel eyes flicker to your lips and back up to your eyes, so fast you would’ve missed it if your senses weren’t dialed up to 11.

With the delicacy of someone touching a flower petal, he closes the gap and presses his cut lips to your soft ones. Hesitant at first, giving you the option to pull away. He fears he may have misread the moment when you separate from him, a look in your eyes that he can’t read. His worry dissipates as you take his face into both of your hands and kiss him deep and slow. You only break when the air feels too stiff to continue, the water droplets accumulating in the air and Steve's kiss making it difficult to catch your breath. His hands slide from where they were grasping your hair, and down to your neck where they stay.

“I love you, too.”

[in-my-feels-probably]

Home - Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

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Request: Have you considered Benedict falling for a friend of Daphne's? Like if they're as close as Pen and Eloise but maybe with a little less drama? I think it would be funny for Benedict to ask for advice on how to talk to her and Daph being done. Just "you've known her for as long as I have."

Hi! Thank you again for the request, this is such a cute idea. I hope you don’t mind, but I made the reader a Featherington. I went a little off track too, it was easier for me to write that way. If this isn’t what you were looking for, I’m happy to take another request or alter this one. Sorry for the long wait on getting this out, but I hope you enjoy this :)

(Warnings: insecurity, middle child trauma, nothing else i think? idk, let me know if i missed anything)

—

Living in Grosvenor Square certainly had its ups and downs.

On one hand, you were mere steps away from your best friends. The Bridgertons lived right across the street, and you could visit them practically whenever you wanted. On the other hand—the not so nice hand—your family is the Featherington’s. Which isn’t an inherently bad thing. You loved your family, and could ignore most of the negatives. It just certainly has its pitfalls, being a Featherington daughter.

The Featherington’s—while rich and somewhat dignified—aren’t considered to be the most respectable of families. There wasn’t any one main reason why members of the ton didn’t much like your family, they just didn’t.

It wasn’t a personal grudge with you they had. In fact, you were quite liked by the ton.

More often than not, however, they didn’t pay much attention to you. It was easy to forget you were there when the rest of your family was the center of attention.

You were born soon after Phillipa but before Penelope, making you a middle child.

Your Mother seemed to connect with her eldest far more than her youngest, and that put a strain on your relationship. Not only that, you were much more akin to Penelope, having a lot more in common with her than your older sisters and your Mother combined. You were a bit of a wallflower, like Penelope, and it was a hard trait for your Mother to get past.

It wasn’t all negatives, though.

One of the biggest perks of being a Featherington was the fact that you lived directly across from the Bridgertons. You had spent most of your life over at their residence since the day you developed the ability to walk.

And, subsequently, the ability to walk across the street.

Violet Bridgerton’s first girl—Daphne—was born right around the same time as you were, and she decided Daphne was going to need a friend. Being the first girl born to a family of three brothers was a challenge, and Violet thought it best that Daphne should be able to socialize with a girl her age.

By the time you were both able to talk, you became inseparable. Just as your sister Penelope had come to develop a deep friendship with Eloise Bridgerton, you had come to develop your own with Daphne.

And by extension, you became good friends with her eldest brothers.

Anthony was the oldest, quite a bit older than you. He was already a handful of trouble by the time you showed up, and he already had plenty of practice teasing girls with his sisters as victims. In your first few years, he’d make it his mission each time you visited the house to fluster you, and annoy Daphne. It was harmless fun, and it never really bothered you, although he tried his hardest nonetheless. But as you got older, he became quite protective over you. It was like you were another sister to him, and you definitely bantered and squabbled like siblings do. As annoying as he could be, you loved him like a brother.

Colin was a similar story, although you saw something more to him. It was easy to, with the way Penelope talked about him endlessly. She could ramble for hours, making you listen to every painstaking detail. You definitely understood her affection for him, though. He’s charming and kind, much like his other brothers, but he’s also fun and witty. Daphne tended to favor him the most. They were closest in age, after all. Between her and Penelope, you spent quite a lot of time with him, and you certainly enjoyed his company.

But—besides Daphne—you enjoyed no other Bridgerton’s company like you did Benedict’s.

Benedict was different. He was more.

He was just as kind and charming as Anthony, and just as witty as Colin—certainly as annoyingly beautiful as Daphne—but he was more than that, too. He was sensitive and sweet, far more so than the rest of the Lords of the ton. He was passionate about art and love and valuing the little things. He didn’t care about marrying the prettiest girl for advantage, or inheriting her dowry. He cared about pursuing his dreams, and inspiring others to do the same.

Just the way he talked about his passions and values was enough to make any girl swoon, and yet he was still genuine with his words. It wasn’t for flattery or manipulation, he meant every word. Everything he did, he did for himself and the people he loves.

If it weren’t for Daphne currently holding the number one spot, you’d consider him your best friend.

He’d consider you the same.

You spend just as much time with him as you do with Daphne, and over the years, he’d come to cherish your company.

You saw him for him, not for his title. You listened to his endearing ramblings about his passions because you genuinely enjoyed hearing about them, not because you felt obligated to listen. You treated him like a person, not a prize to be won. It was all he could ask for in a best friend.

But that’s just it. That’s all you were to him. A best friend.

He was so sure that was all you’d ever be. Perhaps one day you’d be his sister in law, considering how close Penelope and Colin had gotten. You’d be family, and that was alright with him. It was what he expected. And then the unexpected happened.

He started falling.

—

The first time he noticed his feelings for you had shifted was the evening of a ball the Queen was throwing.

You’d come over early to get dressed with Daphne, wanting to help make sure she was perfect. She had finally revealed to you her ruse she was sharing with the Duke, you being the first person outside of their agreement to know. You were shocked at first, but as you listened to her speak, you gave her a knowing smile.

“You love him.”

Her eyes widened in shock, her cheeks blushing a rosy pink. “What? Why would you say that?”

“You love him,” you said again, smiling gently at her. “I’ve never seen you speak with such passion. With the way you talk about him, there’s no other possibility. One couldn’t possibly think that highly of another without feelings being involved—”

“You speak of my brother like that,” Daphne interrupted, chuckling when you swallowed your words.

You chose to ignore her statement, continuing to advise her on the best course of action for how to get through the remainder of her agreed upon days with the Duke. If the way he looked at her without her knowing was of any consequence, you were sure he felt the same way about her. All she had to do was make him see that.

When it was time to leave for the ball, all the Bridgerton’s piled into carriages. Daphne was hurried out the door, and she left with her Mother and Anthony, leaving you behind. When you tried to head back home to be escorted by your family, Benedict stopped you.

He had opened and closed his mouth a few times before he was able to choke out any words. Normally, he found it pretty easy to talk to you. But for some reason, the sight of you standing by his front door made his knees weak.

“I’m afraid they’ve already left,” he finally said, stopping you at the door. “They must have assumed you’d be accompanied by us.”

You groaned, feeling a pit form in your stomach. “I have no other way to get there. I promised Daphne I’d be there for her. Pen, too. She seemed quite nervous about attending tonight.”

“Not to worry,” he smiled, offering you his arm. “You can ride with me.”

You sighed in relief, thanking him profusely. “Well, aren’t you a lifesaver? Thank you, Benedict.”

“Of course,” he nodded, helping you into the carriage.

As you settled into your seat, a thought occurred to you. “Benedict…why are you still here? Not that I’m not grateful, but I don’t understand. You’ve been talking about going to the palace for days to see the Queen’s gallery. I would have expected you to be the first one out the door. But here you are.”

He was quiet for a moment as he took in your words, his eyes softening on you.

There were many things he could have said to you to easily explain it away. I’ll see the gallery soon anyways, or, I promised my Mother and yours that I’d make sure you got there safely. Numerous excuses he could have come up with to satisfy your curiosity, and yet, all that was coming to mind was, I can see the gallery another time, but I may never get to see you alone and sitting in front of me looking this beautiful with your undivided attention again, and I won’t pass up on the opportunity for anything.

“I don’t know,” he finally said as he shrugged his shoulders, feigning innocence. “But here I am.”

—

He didn’t truly acknowledge his feelings for you until months later, after attempting to ignore it for so long.

The second time he noticed was when he found out that the only reason he got into art school was because Anthony made a sizable donation to the Academy.

You had found him alone during yet another ton gathering, sulking on the edge of the party. Daphne had already gone home to Simon, and wouldn’t return for some time. Besides Penelope—and occasionally Eloise—Benedict was one of the only people you actually liked enough to be around. And seeing as both Penelope and Eloise were nowhere to be found, Benedict was your only hope.

You just hadn’t expected to find him nearly in tears, anxiously tugging at the cufflinks at the bottom of his sleeve.

It didn’t take much to get him to spill, and you found yourself pulling him inside to keep him away from prying eyes while he was in such a state. He told you all about Anthony’s meddling, and you knew it had crushed his heart to find out that he hadn’t actually achieved anything on his own.

“I know he did it out of the good of his heart…but I wish he hadn’t done it at all.”

He brought his hands up to cover his face, groaning into them. You reached for his wrists and tried to pull them away, but he wouldn’t budge. He finally relented when you said his name softly, letting you take his hands in yours.

“Benedict, it doesn’t matter how you got in. You’re an incredible artist, that’s all that matters,” you said softly, squeezing his hand in yours.

He shook his head, sighing in frustration. “I’m not. My work is child’s play compared to the other artists at the Academy. They all knew why I had even been given a spot in the first place. I’m an imposter, Y/N. A fraud. It was humiliating.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, darling,” you lightly chuckled, your smile fading when his defeated look didn’t waver.

“Alright, that’s it. Fess up. This can’t be all that’s bothering you. I know you, and I know you’re not one to give up that easily. You’ve been flustered all week, so what is it? You can tell me. Not that I have anyone to tell, but I won’t tell. I promise.”

His eyes softened on you as you spoke, and you could feel his grip on your hand get tighter. “I just…I’m tired.”

“Of what?”

“Of being second.”

You frowned, swiping your thumb across the back of his hand. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s just something Anthony said,” he murmured, keeping his eyes on your joined hands. “How I may be the second son, but that it doesn’t mean I am any less required to do my duties to the family. It’s rich coming from him. I’ve been second to him literally my entire life, and he’s only recently started taking his role seriously. I’ve played Father’s role since his passing. Isn’t it just my luck that he’s getting the credit for it?”

“You may be second to him in birth, but that is the only way you’re second. You’re every bit as good as him, Benedict,” you said firmly, but you weren’t sure if your words were sinking in.

He was uncharacteristically quiet, though his grip on your hands hadn’t wavered. His eyes were still on the floor, and his shoulders were shaking as he took uneven breaths.

“I know what that feels like, you know,” you finally said, making him glance up at you. “I’m a Featherington. A middle child at that, and it’s no secret my Mother favors my older sisters.”

Benedict let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “She’s wrong to. I don’t mean to be rude, but you and Pen are worlds more interesting and gracious than your sisters. The eldest, at least.”

“You don’t even know them,” you said in shock, but you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing, too.

“I don’t need to. You’re the only one I’m interested in knowing. Middle child or not.”

You couldn’t help but smile, although his kind words weren’t enough. The more you thought about just how second to the world you were, the more your smile faded.

“It’s not just being the middle child,” you continued, speaking softly. “I love your sister more than almost anything in this whole world, but I have always been second to her, too. She was the diamond of the season the second she was let out of leading strings, and now she’s my Duchess. I’m so happy for her, but it does put a damper on your confidence. Watching your best friend grow into this person everyone loves, and it’s like she didn’t even try.”

“Y/N—”

“Sometimes I feel awful, thinking this way. I know she tried, I was there for her every time she’d get overwhelmed. But she made it look so easy. I don’t know how she did it,” you rambled, taking a shuddering breath as you stopped yourself from speaking.

Benedict’s eyes softened on you as you spoke, making you want to shrink away from his gaze. He was being kind, and you didn’t know if it was genuine or not. If he was faking it for your sake, that was much worse than his actual pity.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make this about me, let’s get back to you—”

“Y/N,” he said again, this time effectively silencing you. “You can’t possibly feel that way.”

It was your turn to look at the floor. “Why shouldn’t I? It’s true.”

“That is the furthest thing from the truth,” he said gently, taking your hand. “You’re every bit as good as my sister. I know she makes things look easy, but she spoke just as highly of you as you do of her.”

You raised a brow. “Really?”

“Really. She used to tell me how kind you were to her, even after Lady Whistledown printed her supposed scandals. You were never judgemental.”

“I have no right to judge anyone, especially not her. She’s never said a bad thing about anyone, it isn’t right that people just took a scandal sheet as truth. And, if anything, she was kind to me. She, Eloise, Colin, and you are pretty much the only members of the ton that treat me like a normal person and not an outcast because of who my family is.”

Benedict smiled, squeezing your hand. “I would never dream of treating you any other way.”

You fought the flush that crept up to your cheeks, feeling the heat settle in them. You cleared your throat, shaking your head.

“Anyway,” you smiled, meeting his eyes. “I don’t mean to keep you away. Should we go back to the party? Someone may be looking for you. You’re quite popular, you know.”

Benedict couldn’t help but smile. And as he watched you look up at him through gentle eyes and an open heart, he couldn’t bring himself to move. It was like his feet were stuck to the floor, and he didn’t want to do anything to pull them up. He shook his head, keeping his hand in yours.

“No,” he finally answered, taking a seat. “Let them look. I’d much rather spend my evening with you. If you’ll allow me to, that is.”

You shook your head, taking a seat next to him. “I’ve got nowhere I’d rather be.”

—

The third time he noticed was when you, Daphne, and he accompanied Penelope and Colin to promenade throughout the square. She and Simon had come to visit, and she wanted to spend time with you and her family.

This time, he couldn’t ignore his feelings.

You followed behind Colin and Penelope, giving them enough room to speak privately without feeling like their older siblings were on their backs. You smiled as you watched Penelope look up at him, Colin being as gentlemanly as ever.

“It took him long enough,” you said, making Benedict chuckle.

“I thought he’d never figure it out.”

“Me either,” you agreed, grinning as you watched Colin smile down at your sister. “I should bash him over the head. I’ve listened to Pen spend countless hours rambling on about how utterly oblivious Colin can be. He owes me a debt.”

“He isn’t the only oblivious person I know,” Daphne piped in, making your eyes widen.

You had told her countless times about your feelings for Benedict, and how he never seemed to reciprocate them.

What you didn’t know is that he had done the same, on more than one occasion going to his siblings for advice on how to address them. Pushing them down until he couldn’t feel them seemed to be working, at least until now. And as far as he knew, you didn’t reciprocate his feelings either.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said nervously, silently pleading with her to drop the subject.

“Neither do I,” Benedict added, making Daphne chuckle.

She just grinned, ever so slightly raising a brow. “I mean Anthony, of course. It took him quite a while to realize that what he felt for Kate was much more than rivalry. I practically had to beg it out of him.”

“You’re a little matchmaker, aren’t you?” You asked, smiling at her. “Who’s next? Eloise, perhaps?”

“Perhaps…you?”

You immediately stilled, making them stop, too. “Me?”

“Don’t look so surprised, Y/N. You’ve been my best friend for ages, and I know what’s good for you. You’re lonely. And as awful as it is, the ton will start to talk. If the only people you talk to outside of your own family are Benedict and I, they’ll begin to notice.”

You frowned, nodding. She was right. Harsh, but right. The threat of becoming a spinster was looming over your head every season, and it had only gotten worse after Daphne married in her first season. Your second season came and went, and you were now in your third.

Without any prospects.

And it was looking like your baby sister was going to beat you to the punch as well. You were silent, a small frown on your face.

Thankfully, Benedict broke the silence. Just the thought of you marrying someone—especially someone who didn’t deserve you—made his skin crawl. He felt like he could keel over, and by the look on your face, he could tell you were feeling similarly. He couldn’t keep himself from turning you away from Daphne’s advice.

“Why settle?” He asked cautiously, giving you a sympathetic look. “Don’t let the ton pressure you. You’ll know when it’s the right time.”

You had fully made it around the square, now back in front of your house. Penelope was saying goodbye to Colin, at least for the moment. His Mother invited you and Penelope to dinner to welcome Simon and Daphne home, and so they’d see each other again in mere hours.

You gave Benedict a grateful smile, nodding. “You’re right. Thank you. If you’ll excuse me, I think it’s time to pull our siblings apart before they actually become attached at the hip. Mother wants us home before we join you later.”

Daphne chuckled, taking your hands in hers. “I think you’re right. I’ll see you soon, dearest.”

You squeezed her hands in yours, before going to gather your sister. You gave Colin a knowing smile, turning and heading inside with your sister in tow. The Bridgerton’s did the same, filing into their house one by one.

The second Benedict shut the door behind him, he collapsed against it, groaning. “What was all that for, Daph?”

“What? I was simply giving you both a little nudge. God knows you needed one. You’re even worse than Colin was, brother.”

“I don’t need a nudge. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

Colin laughed, taking off his coat as he headed up the stairs. “I could hear your stuttering. It was laughable.”

“Oh, piss off,” Benedict pouted, waving away Colin as he chuckled the rest of the way up the stairs.

Daphne offered him a small smile, letting out a sigh. She took his arm, leading them to the sitting room. After promptly sitting down, she gave him an expectant look, and he reluctantly sat next to her.

“Out with it,” she urged. “Why did our conversation with Y/N bother you so?”

“I don’t know,” he huffed, shaking his head.

Daphne narrowed her eyes, speaking gently but firmly. “You do know, Benedict. Admit it. You feel something for her.”

“Does it matter? She doesn’t feel the same way.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Daphne exasperatedly asked, nearly bursting at the seams.

She knew of both your affections for each other, and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to tell either of you about the other. It didn’t feel right, going behind the other’s back. She had decided the moment she knew of each of your feelings to let the matter run its own course. What she hadn’t anticipated was it taking this long.

It was getting near impossible to keep the secret, and she decided a little meddling was excusable.

“She’s never said anything to me that would allude to her feeling anything for me. What would you have me do? Ask her directly?”

“There’s an idea,” Daphne shrugged.

Benedict sighed, trying to shove down the anxiety he felt at the thought of confronting you. “You saw me out there. I wouldn’t even know where to start. How do I talk to her?”

“You’ve known her as long as I have, brother. She’s your best friend! Just talk to her. She’ll understand, I promise. She won’t hurt your feelings if that’s what you’re worried about. You know she won’t.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m going to be sick at the mere thought of talking to her about it?”

Daphne smiled, her eyes softening. “Because you love her.”

Benedict’s shoulders fell, like Daphne just saying it out loud was the first time he was admitting it to himself. Like his feelings hadn’t fully sunk in, and now they were hitting him all at once like a freight train. It was a realization for him, and it both excited and terrified him at the same time. His emotion was clear on his face as his mouth fell open, making Daphne’s smile widen.

“Don’t worry, brother,” she reassured him. “It will all work out. I truly believe that. Take the afternoon to yourself, and keep your mind off of it till dinner. You’ll know the right thing to say when it’s time.”

—

That evening, you returned to the Bridgerton’s residence with Penelope.

The family gathered in the sitting room before dinner was ready, but Daphne pulled you away before you could follow. She took you all the way to the backyard, sitting down on the swing. She motioned for you to follow, and you took a seat on the swing next to her.

“I wanted to apologize about earlier,” she said softly. “I saw your face, I know I upset you. That wasn’t my intention, and I hope you can forgive me.”

You shook your head. “Don’t apologize. I needed to hear it. I might not like it, but I needed to hear it.”

“It hurt, Y/N. You don’t have to minimize that to spare my feelings. It’s alright to admit it. Do you…do you want to talk about it? I think there’s something more to it that’s bothering you, love.”

She was right.

Of course she was, she was always right. You sighed, turning to look back through the window into the house. You could see Penelope standing with the rest of the family, laughing at something Colin was telling her. He was smiling down at her like she had hung every star in the sky, just so he could have the chance to watch them sparkle. It was beautiful.

And it was painful.

“I just,” you started, keeping your eyes on Penelope. “I’m happy for her. I’m so happy for her. But I’m feeling a bit left behind.”

Daphne took your hand, leaning closer. “What do you mean?”

“I feel so selfish saying this, but…it’s what I want. She’s getting all that I want. All my life, I’ve wanted what you and your family have. You’re all so loved, and you love each other so deeply. Pen deserves that, I want her to have that. And I have no doubt that by the end of the season, she’ll have it. She’ll marry Colin, and officially be a Bridgerton. Part of the family. But she won’t be mine anymore. And I won’t be hers.”

Daphne frowned, squeezing your hand in hers. She turned you to meet her eyes, giving you a knowing look.

“I have a feeling this has more to do with a certain brother of mine. And I don’t mean Colin.”

You frowned, and she knew she was right.

“This is about Benedict. With Penelope being with Colin, it’s a reminder that you’re not with him. And you want to be with him.”

You couldn’t deny your feelings any longer. “I do. God, I really do. But it’s more than that. I want to be his family. I want to be your family.”

“And you’ve had to silently watch Penelope get what you’ve been waiting for,” Daphne said in realization, her heart breaking when you nodded.

Daphne stood up, pulling you with her. She wrapped you into a tight hug, refusing to relent until you hugged her back. You sighed in frustration, letting her gently rock you back and forth.

“Y/N,” she said softly, pulling away. “You’re already my sister. Regardless of who you end up with, whether it’s my brother or not. Wherever you end up, it doesn’t matter. You will always be my sister. You never have to worry about that. Not ever.”

You smiled softly, squeezing her hands. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, a throat cleared behind you. You quickly turned to see Benedict standing at the door.

“Mother told me to come collect you both. Dinner will be soon. Daph, Simon is asking after you.”

Daphne nodded, turning back to you. “Come along, then.”

“Actually,” Benedict interrupted, his eyes falling on you. “Could I have a moment alone with Y/N, please? If it’s alright with you.”

“Of course,” you said nervously, nodding towards Daphne.

Daphne smiled, nodding back. She patted Benedict on the shoulder as she headed back inside, closing the door behind her.

When she was gone, Benedict gave you a sheepish smile. He motioned for you to sit down, and you took a seat on the swing. He sat on the swing next to you, turning his body so that he was facing you. His knees brushed yours as he settled.

“What is it?” You asked, giving him all your attention.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

Your eyes softened on him, and you laid your hand on his arm. “I’m alright, Ben. Better now, since you’ve arrived.”

“Cheesy,” he smiled, but his heart was fluttering in his chest. “You know how to make a man smile, don’t you?”

“I didn’t think I was doing anything in particular,” you shrugged.

Benedict’s smile widened, and he couldn’t help but ponder his feelings for you. From the moment he found you alone on his doorstep, to when you took care of him at his lowest. From the way you treated his family, to the selflessness you never failed to put before your own wishes. From the way you made him feel, to the way he so desperately hoped you felt. He couldn’t stop himself from confessing, hoping his words wouldn’t come back to haunt him.

“I have to tell you something,” he murmured, taking a shuddering breath after he realized what he said, and what he was about to do.

You nodded. “What is it?”

“I think—and in case this is a huge mistake on my part, please forgive me—but, I think…I think I’m in love with you.”

You stiffened, standing up from the swing. “What?”

“I,” he stuttered, standing up as well. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was—”

You cut him off, taking his hands in yours. “Say it again.”

Benedict’s eyes widened, and you had caught him at a loss for words. He felt like you had punched him in the gut, sending him to his knees. But he nodded, squeezing your hands in his.

“I love you,” he said again, softer this time as he looked at you through gentle eyes. “I’ve loved you from the moment you got into that carriage with me, and I’ve loved you every moment since. I love you.”

Your shoulders fell, and you could feel the tears welling in your eyes. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, clinging tightly to his hands. You felt like your knees could give out, and the only thing holding you up was him.

“You’re not lying? You’re serious?”

Benedict almost laughed, nodding. “Yes, Y/N. I’m serious. Do you really think I would jest about this?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as well, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth. “All that time. All that time, and you couldn’t tell me? You certainly waited long enough.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, darling,” he said, cocking his head in confusion.

You were starting to worry him now, concern written all over his face. It made your heart clench in your chest.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. You were so happy, you couldn’t help but hold him close, smiling wider when you felt his arms wrap around your waist, despite his confusion. You held him tight, standing up on your toes so he could hear you loud and clear.

“I love you too, Benedict.”

He instantly pulled away, holding you back at arms length. “You what?”

“I love you,” you said again, taking his hands. “And I’ve been waiting ages for the day you’d finally tell me you felt the same. I never thought I’d hear you say the words, but I am so happy that you did.”

It was his turn to ask. “You’re serious? This isn’t a joke?”

You shook your head, and he squeezed your hands. You brought one of your joined hands up to press a kiss to the back of his, smiling up at him.

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my entire life.”

—

A/N - Hi! I’m so sorry this took so long, it took me a long time to figure out what I wanted to write. Not sure why this one was so difficult, but I finished it! I hope you enjoyed it :)

[phthalomushroom]

The Family (3)

last next

pairings: modern!mafia!aemondxreader

summary: You had left Kings Landing and the Targaryen family four years ago. Now back and living with your old roommate you realize that the life you had thought you escaped had seemingly been waiting for you. But will the family really let you go? Will the people you left behind forgive you? Can you forget the past and look to the future?

word count: 3.3k

warnings: language, mentions of trauma, mentions of shooting, alys rivers, Italians, drunk aemond??

notes: this felt rushed but it is also long - sorry about that, idk what happened I've been super busy!!!

You hadn’t spoken to Baela the entire way home.

To say you were more than pissed was an understatement. You couldn’t tell if you were more mad at the situation or at your best friend for keeping such monumental information from you. You stormed into your apartment with a plan to shut yourself in your room for the night when Baela stopped you.

“I was told not to tell you.”

You whipped around. “What?”

“Aemond… wanted to be the one to tell you.”

“And how would he have told me?” You had blocked his number and his social media when you left the city, fully shutting him out of your life. She gave a weak smile.“He didn’t say.”

You crossed your arms. 

Baela let out a long breath. “Listen, even if Aemond didn’t ask me not to say anything, I wouldn’t have brought it up.”

“You're my best friend Baela, I should have been told. What kind of friend are you?”

“One that remembers how fucking destroyed you were when you two broke up. One that remembers you leaving the city, fleeing from everyone all because of a fucking guy.”

“Which is why I should have known!”

“Why!” Her voice rose. “So you can run again?”

“I wasn’t running!”

“Then what the fuck were you doing?”

Escaping.

But you couldn’t say that. You couldn’t say that because it would make everything that happened that night too real. It would make everything and everyone you had shut out all these years pointless.

“I couldn’t deal with another 10 hour train ride,” Baela said after a minute of your silence. “Clearly there is still something you have towards Aemond.”

“Baela-”

“Whether it’s feelings or unresolved shit, I don’t know. Just… maybe seeing him, talking to him, will help you.”

She moved past you to go towards her room. She stopped with her hand on the door. “I’m sorry for the part I played in this, but Aemond asked and-”

“You couldn’t say no.”

She frowned, opening the door to step into her room. “He’s the head of the family now since Otto is in jail. You know whatever is asked goes.”

Your heart dropped. 

Aemond was head of the family?

********

You had an awful night's sleep. You tossed and turned, thinking about what Baela had said. 

Aemond was head of the house, he now ran the family which meant he called all the shots. He finally achieved what he had wanted all those years ago, but how he got there is what plagued you.

Your clock was nearing eight in the morning when your phone chimed. You looked at it seeing a message from an unsaved number, your heart sank as you read the screen.

Heard you're back in town, we need to catch up. - A

The fucking bastard. 

You had half a mind to tell him how caught up you were when you decided against it. You threw your phone on your bed and began getting ready for the day, making your way to the kitchen. You saw a note on the table from Baela, apologizing for last night and how she wanted to talk it over more when she got back from the dinner tonight.

You crumbled the note throwing it in the trash. You had already forgiven her in all honesty, you couldn’t be mad at her for long. Besides you were being too harsh on Baela, after all you hadn’t told her anything from that night. She only knew that you and Aemond weren’t together anymore and that you needed to leave right away. In the end you were taking a lot of your frustrations out on her rather than the real person causing it. But to redirect those feelings meant that you would need to talk to Aemond and that wasn’t going to happen.

Not anytime soon anyway.

You sent Baela a quick text telling her all is forgiven and that you would see her when she got back from the celebration dinner. 

You rummaged through the cabinets trying to find anything to eat but it seems like you’d need to do a grocery run. Thankfully you didn’t start full time at work till next week, your employer understood that you needed to settle into your “new” home. 

At least that's what you had hinted at when they asked when you could start.

You put your shoes on and headed out of the apartment, going to the cafe that was a block away from where you lived. From what you remembered this place had the best chocolate croissants and made the best drinks you’ve ever had.

You had just put in your order, sitting at one of the corner tables, scrolling through your phone as you waited for your name to be called, when the chair across from you screeched.

You looked up meeting the delightful green eyes of Alicent Hightower. 

You nearly choked on your spit.

She smiled cheerily at you. “I heard you were in town.”

You smiled back, putting your phone in your bag. “I just got in yesterday, I was gonna call but-” 

She held her hand up. “Best not to, there are prying eyes and listening ears all around that house I swear.”

You laughed. Alicent Hightower had been like a mother to you when your own mother left. When you had come crying to Aemond freshman year when your family was falling apart, Alicent was the one who wrapped her arms around you and let you stay in the house until you were ready to go back.

You still remember her rage when you had told her about the note your mother left.

She truly was one of the things you missed about the Targaryen family. 

“What are you doing on this side of the city?” Alicent, along with most of her family lived in an estate on the East side of the city that overlooked the canal.

“You know this side makes the best pastries.” She gestured to the boxes by her feet. 

“Georginos is pretty stellar.”

She grinned, reaching across the table to give your hands a squeeze. “And how are you doing?”

You put on a convincing smile. “Great, no problems yet.”

She nodded. “Good to hear. After what Aemond told me, I’m surprised you decided to stick around here.”

Your heart dropped. “What?”

“The rats, dear. I don’t know how you and Baela are able to live in an apartment with rats in it.”

You swallowed your confusion. “A lot of traps.”

“Aemond said he’s heading over later to talk with the exterminator, I’m confident he’ll take care of you.”

You nodded along. “Yup!”

She squeezed your hands again. “I’m so happy that you and him could remain friends all these years, I mean I had half a mind to drag him to Winterfell and make nice.”

You nodded along, hoping your face didn’t show the confusion and anger you felt.

“Anyway, what is your number? I've missed our chats.”

You hastily reached into your bag, wanting the uncomfortableness of this conversation to end. You pulled your phone out and along with it, the invite from Alys.

Alicent’s eyes widened, upon seeing the crumpled invitation. She looked up at you smiling. “I was hoping Aemond would take my advice on inviting you.”

You gave a half hearted laugh, shoving the invite back into your bag.

Could this get any worse? 

“So I take it I'll be seeing you tonight then.” She stooped to pick up the pastry boxes. 

Come fucking on.

“I actually wasn’t planning on attending.”

She frowned. “Why not?”

You stumbled over your words. “I’m Aemond’s ex.”

“But you're part of the family.”

“It wouldn’t look good if I came.”

“And why not? You and Aemond are still best friends, it would be absurd for you not to be there.”

“I just don’t think Alys-”

Alicent snorted. “Screw what Alys thinks, I’m the one paying for the whole damn charade. I might as well get a say in who gets to come.”

Just then your order got called. She grinned pushing in her chair. “Till tonight, dear.” 

You watched her walk out, at a loss for words frozen in your seat.

What the fuck just happened?

********

You had managed to fill Baela in on the phone of what happened in the cafe. Telling her about Aemond’s lies to his mother and the insistence of Alicent that you attended the dinner. Baela was able to stop by after work so that you two could walk in together.

You had just managed to find a dress in the back of your closet that would work for the formal occasion, your boxes from Winterfell still hadn’t come yet, to your dismay. The dress was slick black that had a perfect neckline that accentuated your boobs and yet didn’t do too much to make it seem like you were trying. Baela had described it as ‘tasteful sexy.’When you were looking in the mirror you couldn’t remember for the life of you where you had gotten it but didn’t care as you quickly left for the event.

You were already late and you didn’t want to have to spend anymore than an hour at the dinner. Luckily it was at Federicos, the whole place having been shut down for the special event. 

The restaurant came into view as you walked up the street, you could see Jace, Luce, and Rhaena all standing outside waiting. 

“You ready?” Baela asked. “We can bail out now, Luce can vomit on cue.”

“Tempting but gross,” You responded. You let out a long breath fidgeting with your handbag. “If I don’t show up Alys will be smug, and Alicent will hunt me down.”

“You don’t say no to the family.” She squeezed your hand.

You approached your friends, plastering on a smile that you knew you’d have on all night.

Rhaena hugged you first. “Finally, I’ve been trying to get Baela to let me come over to see you.”

“Yeah, it's been a crazy first day back.”

“Are you ready to go in?” Jace asked.

 “Of course, I’ve been wanting those garlic knots since we left last night.”

You hated faking it for them. You’d rather leave, you’d rather not be here. But maybe this was a fateful way of telling you to face your shit head on. So you took a deep breath as everyone filed inside, squared your shoulders and knew that you would get drunk as shit after this.

For now you picked up a cocktail from the bar with the others and sipped carefully, you needed a clear head for the night. You already spotted Alys making her rounds around the room, but hadn’t noticed Aemond among the crowd. You looked around again seeing Alicent sitting at the corner booth, nursing a glass of wine.

“I’m gonna go make an appearance with Alicent,” you told Baela.

You snaked your way through the crowd, all mostly being people from Alys’s side with a few Targaryens and Hightowers mixed in. A part of you wondered why more of the family hadn’t come but those thoughts were put on the back burner when you took the seat across from Alicent. 

She smiled. “Glad you could make it, love.”

“Glad to have been invited.

She waved you off. “Of course.”

“This place looks amazing, Alys really outdid herself.” You looked around at the black and white monochrome decorations that were dispersed around the restaurant. 

“It’s tacky,” she frowned. “And dull.” 

You chuckled. “You are just as blunt as I remember you.”

She lifted her glass. “Always.”

Her eyes drifted over your shoulder just as you heard a voice say your name. You turned to see a wide eyed Aemond Targaryen standing in all black with an empty whisky glass in his hand and a beer in the other. His hair that was cut short the last time you saw him had grown out and was now tied in a bun at the nape of his neck. He was as handsome as ever and the skip your heart did told you everything you needed to know.

You needed to be strong and you needed to be cold. 

You swallowed the panic that rose and instead raised your glass to him. “I guess congratulations are in order.”

That seemed to knock him out of his stupor as he gave you an easy smile. 

You heard Alicent get up from her seat, rounding to her son. “I can take this to the bar, you two should catch up.”

Aemond let her move past him, taking the empty glass from his hand before he slid into the seat opposite of you. He leaned back like he didn’t have a care in the world, his eyes glazed. “You never answered my text.”

“What text?” You took a sip of your drink.

He smirked, taking a sip of his beer. “You never were a good liar.”

“I blocked your number.”

“I got another number.”

You shook your head, he was still insufferable it seemed. “Seems like a lot of trouble to contact an ex.”

“You’re worth it.”

“You're engaged.” You weren’t going to let him win this. 

He leaned forward putting his forearms on the table as he set the beer down. The veins of his forearms strained slightly. “I was going to tell you when we met up.”

“And how would we have done that?”

“Well if you were going to continue ignoring me it was going to be more of an “accidental” meeting. I think that would have been charming.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re insane.”

“And you are still as beautiful as the day I first saw you.”

“I wonder how Alys would feel about that comment.”

“Alys isn’t here,” he slurred. 

Now that pissed you off. Yes, you hated Alys Rivers but like hell were you going to be treated like some mistress. “You're an asshole, you know that?”

He shrugged, leaning back as he took a swig of his beet. “I don’t understand how I can be the asshole when you're the one wearing a dress that I bought you. That is just insulting to my soon to be bride.”

Your stomach turned. That’s where you knew the dress from. Aemond had gotten it for you on your last anniversary. But if he was going to be an asshole about it, so could you. Strong and cold, that’s what you needed to be. 

You shrugged like he did. “A lot of men have bought me a lot of things over the years, I must have just forgotten.”

Something flickered in his eyes at that, like a fire had suddenly been lit. “You’re lying.”  

“Kinda like how you're lying to your mom about us.”

His face blanched, clearly taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

“We’re best friends? You’re helping with the rats in my apartment?”

He regained his composure quicker than you thought. “We are best friends and I did help with the rats.”

“That was the first week we moved in and it was one.”

He waved his hand. “Semantics.”

“We haven’t talked in years and from what your mother tells me it’s like we talk everyday.”

He leaned on the table again“What are you doing here, (y/n).”

“I was invited by your beautiful fiancee and your mother.”

“No, what are you really doing here?”

You ground your teeth. “Your mother invited me. You don’t say no to the family.”

“Except you.”

“What?”

“Everyone else can’t say no but you.”

You frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“You were always the exception, (y/n). Then, now, always.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“I know that if you really didn’t want to come here you wouldn’t have, rules be damned. So why did you really show up here in a dress I bought you for our anniversary?”

You hadn’t realized it but during your exchanging of words his hands and yours had moved closer, your fingertips just touching.

Just then Alys came around the table sitting on Aemond’s lap, he pulled his hands away snaking them around her waist. “We’re doing toasts soon, honey.”

His eye drifted to you, before he looked at Alys. “I’ll be there in a minute, just need to finish this conversation.”

Alys suddenly looked at you, her eyebrows shooting up as she tried to look surprised. “Oh, you came! I gotta say I didn’t think you’d show.”

You looked at Aemond then. “I’m just here for the celebration.”

She smirked. “Well I hope your gift is nice, gods know enough of these people only gave us cash.”

She stood up then, leaning down and giving Aemond a long kiss. You looked at your now empty glass. 

He pulled away first, giving her a weak smile before she darted off back in the crowd. He folded his arms over his chest. “Celebrating Alys and I’s engagement? Seems very mature of you.”

You scoffed. “And how would you like me to react Aemond? Smash all the glasses, destroy the present table, burn the whole place to the ground?

It was his turn to scoff. “Well at least it would be a reaction, instead of this cold whatever.”

“I have been nothing but polite since we started talking.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

“Then what are you talking about, Aemond?”

He leaned forward. “You’re shutting me out, putting walls up, being cold.”

“And what’s the problem with that? You were the one who told me to leave, Aemond. Then I come back and you’re trying to act like we’re friends. I don’t know you.”

“You’ll always know me, just like I will always know you.”

“Then how come I look at you and I don’t recognize you.”

“Maybe you don’t want to recognize me.”

“Don’t do that.”

He smirked. “Do what?”

You gestured to him. “Those stupid fucking games - answering my questions with questions, giving stupid fucking philosophical answers.”

He crossed his arms. “And why is that?”

You huffed. “You’re a prick.”

He shrugged. “At least I got some reaction out of you instead of that ice princess bullshit.” His voice went high pitched as he mocked you- “congratulations are in order, beautiful fiancee.”

“Is being nice a crime now in your family?

“No but being a liar and a coward is.”

You rolled your eyes. “Get a grip, Aemond.”

“What’s the real reason you came tonight?”

“I was invited by Alys and your mother, you know how they both can be.”

“Bullshit,” he spat. “I think you came here because you were curious, you couldn’t stay away.”

You wanted to laugh. This was such bullshit, what even was happening right now. Was he mad at you cause you weren’t mad? 

“Admit it.” He scooted closer.“I think you wanted to be here tonight to see for yourself if you could get me back.” He was leaning across the table now, his eyes flitting between yours. His voice dropped. “The ring was always yours, she’s just keeping it warm for ya darling.” 

You could smell the alcohol on his breath. He was clearly drunk and now he was being cruel. When you knew him he would never have let himself get to this level of intoxicated and he certainly would never have been so mean to you.

What the fuck happened when you left?

You shook your head, looking away from him.“I’m not here for you, Aemond.”

He arched his brow. “Then why’d you come?”

“To see for myself that everything we had was a lie.”

He leaned back, shaking his head. “What are you talking about?”

“Seeing you tonight like this, with her, I understand now that it wasn’t love we had but convenience.” You started getting up. “I hope you two are very happy together.”

He stared wide eyed, watching as you began pushing through the crowd. “Wait.”

“Goodbye, Aemond. Have a good wedding.” You waved over your shoulder as you walked away from Aemond Targaryen.

Tag List: @dixie-elocin @liannafae @toodlesxcuddles @watercolorskyy @zenka69 @bellaisasleep

[arjwrites]

— Good to know bc im here to request another Castiel x Winchester!reader (oldest sister) hehehehe...

Remember when Castiel became a human and that reaper April used him? I was thinking about the reader in her place, where she ACTUALLY likes Cas and takes care of him. The reader really loves him and doesn't care that he's a human now with no angel powers, he's still the man/angel she loves and care (I'm still mad that Dean kicked Cass out of the bunker)

It's his first time being human, he deserves some love 😞 (And I rlly need some comfort aughhh)

I think I wrote too much, sorry! It's just that I really love human Castiel, he deserved more ❤️‍🩹 — 👼 angel anon

Lessons on Humanity- Human!Castiel x Reader

Summary: Human!Cas arrives on your doorstep in need of a helping hand. Taking him under your wing, you offer him more than he bargained for.

Warnings: None (I don't think???) GN!Reader, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: Well, this took forever. Idk why this gave me the WORST case of writer's block ever, but.... I think I just wanted it to be perfect for you, angel anon!!! I hope you enjoy hehehehehe <3333

Leaving hunting behind had been a tough decision, but leaving your brothers and Castiel behind had been even harder. But after all the years, your body screamed for rest, and your heart mourned the years of loss and trauma. It wasn’t like you had completely up and abandoned them- you still took their calls, visited the bunker from time to time, and took on many a research request (which had always been your specialty anyways). But you had grown so tired of the life. And as much as moving into the bunker had been a massive improvement from the endless series of motel rooms you’d grown up with, living in a concrete man-cave with your brothers had proven difficult. And you had always craved a home- somewhere that could be uniquely yours. This had led you to settle down into a sweet cottage, a bit off the beaten path in a quaint little town- not too far from the bunker, but far enough. It was cozy, nothing fancy by any means- two small bedrooms, a slightly outdated kitchen, and a snug little living room you had furnished with thrifted couches and a secondhand TV. What it lacked in elegance, it made up for in character. It wasn’t much, but it was home.

It was a Friday night. You had just gotten off work, ordered a pizza, popped your favorite playlist in your speakers, and were currently dancing around and vacuuming your living room. Ah, domesticities. It was always a nice feeling to be done for the weekend, to have a job you could hang up for a few days and not worry about until Monday morning rolled around. Not like hunting, with its worries that clung tight to you all hours of every day. After finishing your cleaning task, you flopped to the couch, clicking through the TV to find a suitable show to binge alongside your food. 

Two crisp knocks at the door pulled you from your search. That was quick, you thought to yourself. You practically skipped to the kitchen to grab your purse, wanting to hand the delivery driver a few extra dollars for the particularly speedy service. But when you swung the door open, more than just the chilly evening air sent a wave of shock your way. 

“Oh my God,” was about all you could whisper. In front of you stood Castiel, though he didn’t look much like his usual self. He wore a sweatshirt you didn’t recognize and had a slightly unkempt, unshaven look to him. But beyond his appearance, it didn’t feel like Cas. His shoulders were slumped over as if he was carrying the weight of them for the first time. He wore an expression so tired, so hurt, that your heart broke at the sight of it. 

“Cas, honey. What happened?” 

“I don’t have my grace. I… lost it. They told me I couldn’t stay. I didn’t want to bother you, but… I didn’t know where else to go.” 

“Oh, Cas. Come in, God, come in.” Your brow furrowed as you gestured for him to enter, concern filling your body. What had you missed? Why didn’t he have his grace? Why wasn’t he with Sam and Dean?

Cas gingerly stepped through your door, barely making it inside the threshold before turning to you, as if he was waiting to follow your lead.

“Come, come sit,” you beckoned him after you, leading him into the living room and patting a seat for him on the couch. He sat, glancing around your room before landing his gaze back to you. You could tell there was something different about him- it was like he was seeing everything around him for the first time. 

“So tell me what happened, Cas,” you hummed, gathering every ounce of soothing calm you could muster in hopes you could offer him some comfort.

Cas jumped into his story, telling you all about Metatron, the angels, and him losing his grace- all the things you had missed out on since stepping back from hunting. You nodded along, listening intently, compassionately, quietly- that is, until he told you about the events that lead him to your doorstep.

“He kicked you OUT?” You rose to your feet as he said this, unable to contain your anger in your seated posture. You felt the rage bubble from the deepest part of your stomach, rising quickly to your chest. Poor, sweet Castiel, who tries so hard and deserves so much. Cast out like he was nothing. It was enough to drive you into a blind rampage. Cas, on the other hand, remained seated, eyes fixed to the carpet, dejected. 

“I just don’t know what to do. I have all these… feelings I’m not used to.” 

“Of course you don’t, honey. It’s all so new. I’ll help you figure things out, alright?” You thought for a moment about what may be most urgent. “Cas, how long have you been human for?”

“Well, a few days now.”

“And have you eaten? Drank water? Slept?” 

“I had a candy bar.” 

“Oh, you poor thing, Cas. Look… Sit tight, I’m going to get you a glass of water, and I have food on the way. Do you like pizza? No, you don’t know if you like pizza, do you…” You let your voice trail off as you hustled to the kitchen, fixing him a glass of water and returning it to him hastily. 

Cas lifted the glass, inspecting it, before tipping it back and downing it in one go. You watched the water slide out of the cup, disappearing down his throat in record time. There was one basic need supported. 

“Alright, Cas, why don’t you sit there and relax for a little? I’m going to go make up the guest bedroom for you. Is that alright?” You tilted your head to the side to better gauge his thoughts on the matter. Cas returned you a soft smile and nodded. You let out a subtle puff of breath in relief before retreating up the stairs. 

As you grabbed bedding from the linen closet and began to stretch the fitted sheet over the mattress, you couldn’t help but allow your body to take over the menial routine, while your mind fluttered off elsewhere. The angry pit in your stomach persisted, a deepening disgust for the way the angel had been treated, including by your brothers, of all people. But nestled in your chest above your swirling stomach sat your heart, which swelled at the thought of Cas, here with you. In all honesty, he had always meant a lot to you. You had so much admiration, so much reverence for the angel- of course, now that he wasn’t exactly an angel, that didn’t change anything. That was never what it was about. You saw deeper than just Cas’s angelic power- you saw him. Grace or not, there was no changing that. This was still the same angel, the same man, the same being you had always known. Only now, he really needed someone to be there for him. And you intended to do that- slowly, surely, gently. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your name being called from down the stairs. Instantly, your mind snapped to the worst-case scenario- call it a lingering hunter’s instinct. You raced down the stairs, only to find Cas perched on the couch, exactly where you had left him.

“Someone knocked on the door,” he whispered wide-eyed, as if it was some sort of intruder behind the door, waiting politely to be let in so he could go about his business.

You breathed a sigh of relief, willing yourself not to get frustrated at the poor man- he had no idea. Scared, lost, confused Castiel. 

“It’s just the pizza, sweetheart. Don’t worry,” you replied, giving him a soft smile of encouragement. 

With the pizza paid for, food on your plates, and your favorite mindless comfort show on TV, you and Cas began to settle in for the night. You and Cas. It was insane to see the angel in such a domestic setting. The two of you were sat at opposite ends of the couch, nibbling pizza in silent unison. You weren’t sure what to do or say, overwhelmed by Cas’s newfound presence, heartbroken by the things he had experienced, and overall just worried for his wellbeing. But, out of fear of pushing his limits- he had already been through so much the last few days- you fell into a comfortable silence that padded the space between you. 

That silence was broken by a yawn coming from the other end of the couch. Cas’s face contorted in a decidedly un-angelic expression, before drawing inwards in confusion. A giggle inched its way towards your lips, but you suppressed it.

“You must be tired, Cas. Let’s go up to bed,” you hummed. Quickly and efficiently, you snapped off the TV, balanced your drinking glasses and plates on top of the pizza box, and slid everything into its rightful place in the kitchen. Re-emerging to the living room, you extended a hand to Cas, pulling him up to his feet before turning to lead him up the stairs. 

“This is your room, over here,” you pointed, ducking in the door to show him around. You snapped the bedside lamp on to illuminate the space. “The bathroom is just down the hall if you need to use it. And my room is just next door, if you need anything at all.” 

Cas’s eyes scanned the room before settling back on you. He threw a tight-lipped smile, murmuring his thanks. He was bashful, certainly overwhelmed by the avalanche of human emotion and sensation he was experiencing. You really didn’t want to push it, but there was one more thing you wanted to offer him. 

Crossing the room, you pulled Cas into a hug. You felt his hands hover for a moment before he rested them across the middle of your back.

“I’m sorry, Cas. You didn’t deserve any of this. But I’m here to help you, whatever you need, okay? You deserve to have someone be there for you.” It was a desperate plea for the man to recognize his self-worth, to provide him with a bit of comfort during this terrifying transition. Your words weighed heavy in the room, anticipating a response that never came. But, you could’ve sworn you felt Cas’s shoulders dip and the muscles of his back soften into the hug. 

After a minute, you pulled away, snapping back to your lighthearted self. You wished the man a good night, retreating from the room and closing the door behind you. Crossing the hall and tucking yourself into bed, it wasn’t long before you drifted to sleep.

-

You rose early the next morning. Usually, you would stroll downstairs in your bathrobe or whatever mismatched pajamas you slept in, but this morning you hopped in the shower straight away, dressing and fixing your hair. Once you made your way down to the kitchen, you got to work pulling together a breakfast you thought Cas would enjoy- pancakes, bacon, and some fruit, all while brewing a pot of coffee. You weren’t sure he’d have much of a taste for it yet, but you certainly were in need of a cup. 

As you neared the end of your preparation, you heard the guest bedroom door swing open. Cas descended the stairs into the kitchen, somehow looking slightly more disheveled than when he had arrived on your doorstep the night before.

“Good morning, sunshine!” You offered, hoping he would take it in jest.

“Hello,” he responded. His eyes were puffed with sleep, his hair stuck up in every possible direction, face dotted with yesterday’s stubble that was inching into scruffy beard territory. Looking at him was a clear reminder that you needed to help him figure out how to clean himself up today. 

“How’d you sleep, hun?” In any other conversation, this would be a simple pleasantry, but in this case, it was an earnest inquiry.

“Not well. I think I had a dream. It was terrible,” he replied. His gaze remained vacant.

“A dream?” You thought for a moment- was it the sensation of dreaming that he wasn’t used to? Or was it a nightmare? “Tell me about it, Cas.”

“Well, I don’t remember a lot of it. I just remember I was running. And when I woke up, my heart was pounding and I was sweating and I couldn’t breathe. But I didn’t actually run- just in the dream.” 

“Oh, Cas, honey, you had a nightmare.” You approached him, reaching up a hand to run a thumb over his stubbled cheek. “If that ever happens again, you can always come into my room. I’m right next door.”

“How will that help?” He inquired.

“Well, sometimes it’s nice to talk about it, if you want. Or, sometimes it’s just nice to be around someone else, so you don’t feel like you’re facing it alone.”

His nod in response sent a surge of care through your body. Rather than sitting there, gushing over him, you figured you’d channel your worry into something productive- getting him fed. 

“Well, I made some breakfast. Have a seat, I’ll make you a plate.”

You pulled out a chair for him at the table, gesturing for him to sit down, before scrambling to pull together a plate piled high with a stack of pancakes, a few slices of bacon, and some strawberries and bananas you had carefully sliced. You rested the plate in front of him, giving him a minute to inspect it, before returning to grab food for yourself. 

“Well, what do you think? I figured chocolate chip pancakes would be a safe bet. Everyone likes chocolate chip pancakes.”

Castiel clumsily sliced another bite from the pancake, lifting it to his mouth. He chewed pensively, mulling over the question.

“How do I know if I like it?” 

You thought for a moment.

“Good question. Does it make you feel happy?”

He nodded. “I think so.”

“Well, Cas, I think you’ll find that one of the great joys of humanity is the opportunity to figure out what makes you happy. We don’t get a lot of say in what goes on down here, but we do get to pick our favorite foods, favorite colors, favorite people, and fill our lives with those. It’s the small pleasures that make the difference.”

He considered your words for a moment, before spearing another bite with his fork. You giggled to yourself. It was adorable to watch him navigate the things you took for granted with so much fascination and uncertainty- something as small as taking a bite of food required all of his concentration and contemplation.

As you sipped your coffee, you considered the task that lay before you. It was your job to teach Cas how to be human- something you wouldn’t necessarily call yourself an expert on. With hunting dominating your upbringing and occupation thus far, you certainly hadn’t had the normal human experience. But you took the challenge in stride, knowing that Cas had much to learn. 

-

Saturday had come and gone. You had spent the entire day teaching Cas a crash course in human life skills, covering important topics like brushing your teeth (which proved more difficult than you thought it would be), remembering to drink water (you struggled with this yourself most of the time), shopping (the two of you thrifted him a whole wardrobe), and anything else you could think of as you went about your usual routine. 

As the day wound down, you and Cas sat on your back porch. The emerging twilight buzzed, and a warm breeze filtered through the trees and wrapped itself around the two bodies curled up in the lawn chairs. You were tired, he was tired, so another comfortable silence had settled into its now familiar place between the two of you. You could faintly hear the sound of children laughing and a mother calling after them, voices muffled by the distance that separated you from these neighbors down the street. You smiled to yourself, and Cas took notice. 

“Thank you for helping me today,” he offered hesitantly, as if afraid to disturb your thoughts.

“Anytime, Cas.” You were still a bit lost in thought as you responded.

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Why does being human feel so… Heavy?”

There was something about his tone of voice that snapped you out of your daze. Turning to him, you instantly recognized the worry that was weighing on him. 

“I just… I used to be a soldier. I had divine purpose. I’ve always had something to work towards, and now… I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

“Life is a complicated thing, Cas. Most people spend an entire lifetime figuring out their purpose. You may be thousands of years old, but you’ve only been doing the whole human thing for a few days. Be patient with yourself.” 

“You seem to handle it all pretty well. Leaving hunting, making a life for yourself. You have it all figured out,” he frowned.

“Want to know a secret?”

He nodded, silently, eagerly. 

“I’m not handling it well. And I don’t have it all figured out. Nobody does. That’s the whole game. That’s life. You take what you’re given and you do what you can with it. But the beauty is, you get to choose.” 

“How do I know what to choose?” 

You smiled in spite of yourself. 

“That’s the big question. No one knows what’s right for you except you.” 

Cas’s hand reached across to yours, giving it a squeeze that sent your heart aflutter. Fingers intertwined, you settled back into the evening, pensive.  

- 

Sleep that night hadn’t come easy by any means. What had started as worry had now spiraled into full-on anxiety, warding you away from slipping into sleep. Each time you closed your eyes, your mind drifted down the hall to Castiel, separated from you by nothing more than a dozen footsteps and couple pieces of drywall. It was as if you could feel his inner turmoil. And beyond that, your heart ached for the man. All you wanted to do was go to him, be with him, comfort him. But the fear that you were taking advantage of his newly human state still plagued you, so you lingered rigid and sleepless in your bed. Just as you rolled over to attempt comfort and hopefully find some sleep, there was the faintest knock at your door- so quiet, you barely registered it. 

At first, you weren’t sure if you had actually heard the sound, but when the noise was followed by slow footsteps shuffling away, you snapped up in bed.  

“Cas! Come in,” you called. After a second, the door swung open.

“I had another one. A nightmare.” Cas spoke matter of factly, and yet, very soft and reserved. He lingered in your doorway, timid, waiting for you to give your blessing on his entrance.

“Oh, come in, sweetheart. Come sit.” You patted the space beside you, the noise muffled by the thick, fluffy comforter. Cas made his way into a seated position on the bed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, hesitant to pry but insistent on providing support.

“No.” His response was tense and succinct without being rude- you knew he was processing a lot of feelings, and wanted to give him grace.

“That’s okay. Would you like some time to think through it? Or would you like to be distracted?” 

“I’m not sure.”

“Take your time. I’m here.” 

There was a beat of silence. Giving him space was your top priority, as much as you wanted to leap across the bed and into his arms. 

“Maybe, distracted?”

“Sure thing. I’ll put on a movie, we can watch for a bit.” You snatched the remote from the table beside you, flipping through a few movies you thought Cas may enjoy, before settling on a lighthearted Disney movie. Your finger pressed play and adjusted the volume to a dull hum. 

You watched for a while in silence. As the movie was picking up, breaking out into a cheerful musical number, your eyes darted to Cas. Expecting to see him enamored by the animated wonderland, you were taken aback when his eyes locked with yours instantly. It was like he had been looking at you the whole time. 

“Hey, Cas.” He wouldn’t look away, and the eye contact was entrancing.

“Hi.” His voice was gruff, a mix of sleep and something else you weren’t entirely sure of, though you were starting to get an idea. 

“How are you doing?” 

“Better, now. Because I’m with you.” His words sent a wave of warmth through your body as you felt yourself inching closer to him, subconsciously. Clearly, he felt the same pull, as you both shifted to face each other directly. 

“Can I ask you about another feeling?” He was usually bashful with his questions, but this time, his voice was steady. His eyes were fixed on you with an almost palpable intensity, a kind of focus that made you fidget, suddenly so aware of yourself. 

“Of course,” you responded. He was now just inches away from your face. 

“What is this feeling I get when I’m this close to you?” His words were slow and genuine, and yet in some ways, it seemed like he already knew.

“What do you mean?” 

“It feels a lot like the nightmare. My heart beats fast and I can’t breathe. But it’s… Different. It’s good. I like it.” His eyes flickered as the words melted you.

He was so close to your face you could feel each breath tickle your nose and lips, as if pressing gentle precursors to tease you into taking the next step.

“Can I try something else you might like?” You could barely speak above a whisper.

He began to nod, lifting his head, but before he could complete the motion, all your defenses came crashing down, and you melted together- lips and limbs intertwining as one. And for the first time since becoming human, Castiel truly felt peace.

-

There’s something special about humanity. Sure, it has its ups and downs. There’s pain, fear, grief, death. Cas knew all those things already. They were what scared him most when he lost his grace. But he could have never known this, without experiencing it for himself. 

The early hours of the morning crept into the bedroom. Everything about the room was warm and soft- a kind of heaven that rivaled even the real thing. Cas watched as the rays of sun slipped through the window to kiss your skin softer, sweeter, more intimately than he ever had. Yet. 

There were many things about being human he hadn’t been prepared for. He had lost purpose, drive, direction. When he was first stripped of his grace, it had felt like his newfound heartbeat was mocking him with every pulse. But now? That heart served to pump more than just blood through his veins. His heart beat for you. His whole angelic life, he had been guided by divine word, but nothing had ever felt as holy as you, here, sleeping in his arms. You had taught him humanity, alright. And now, he finally had the chance to do something, to feel something, to experience something more beautiful than he could’ve ever imagined. He could love you.

Cas let the sounds of your breathing lull him back to sleep.

[quillkiller]

microfic: sirius & family trauma, 950 words

cw: death and implied abuse

idk what came over me. i wrote this mostly to project onto sirius and i dont even know if it’s supposed to be set in canon or in a modern au. enjoy i guess !

Sirius’ father dies on a regular tuesday. He hasn’t heard from him in several months before that, but his brother had called him from the hospital.

So here he was, sitting in an impersonal waiting room, his brother half asleep on his shoulder, staring at an ugly painting on the wall in front of him. It was a little crooked, Sirius thought. It was driving him a bit mad, and he wanted to correct it, but he didn’t want to wake Regulus.

Their mother was in the hospital room with their father— with her husband. The thought made Sirius feel strange, almost sick. Sirius’ mother was his devil, and she had always been the very picture of evil to him. It was easier to cope that way, thinking there was no good in the woman that had spat him out into the world against his will. It had shaken him to the very core of his bones to learn that his mother had refused to let Orion be alone when he died.

His mother had been at her husband's side for ten hours now, sitting by his bed, waiting for him to stop breathing. Every once in a while she came to speak to Regulus, sometimes glancing at Sirius. She had even touched Sirius’ shoulder and given him a gentle squeeze. Something he did not think her capable of.

Sirius’ father dies on a regular tuesday, which feels comically underwhelming and anti-climactic, all things considered. He had been such a large presence that even his absence had felt suffocating. He had been something Sirius couldn’t get rid of even even if tried. Always looming like a shadow in every corner of Sirius’ life.

Sirius had wished him dead more times than he could count, and now that he was he realised how unnerving it was. It was a lot more fun having a complicated relationship with your father when he was alive for it. It felt a little too final, a little too scary, now that he was a corpse a few doors down the hall and not someone Sirius could pick a fight with just for kicks.

Regulus had mostly been quiet, not really saying much. It had all been a little too surreal, too big for both of them. His brother had cried and made himself small against Sirius like when they were kids, getting snot and tears on Sirius shirt. Sirius had teased him for it, Christ, Regulus, you’re such a baby, and Regulus had laughed into his shoulder. Sirius had laughed too– until it escalated, and then they were both laughing. Sirius didn’t know why they were laughing, or why it was so funny, only that it was.

It went on like that the entire night, until morning, until their father had taken his last breath and his heart stopped. They were laughing hysterically about nothing in particular, and a moment later they were both so quiet it felt like the world around them had melted away or narrowed down to nothing but these four walls. Nurses came and went, offered them drinks or snacks, and two of them sat down and gave them a talk about grief. They were both biting their tongues trying not to burst out laughing again when one of the nurses said: At least you have all these wonderful memories with him.

It’s difficult being an older brother to someone whose father has died. Almost to the point where you forget that your father died, too. It’s hard watching Regulus mourn him and know he’s going to carry this with him for the rest of his life. Sirius would take the burden from him if he could. He’d do anything if it meant his little brother didn’t have to go through this, not even having a choice. It feels desperately unfair and cruel that Sirius can’t protect him from this.

Sirius had left home, almost cutting all his ties to his family. Regulus was the only reason he never managed to cut them all. He’d tried to get Regulus to come with him— to move on with him. Had told him that blood isn’t what makes a family, and Regulus had said No? What about you and me?

So he hadn’t cut all his ties with his family— continued to stick it out for his little brother who refused to let go. He suffered through the occasional family dinner or social function, but at least he had his own apartment to go back home to.

He knew Regulus would mourn differently than Sirius would. Knew that Regulus thought that their father had done unspeakable things to them, but maybe he’ll make a good grandfather one day when I have children. Sirius didn’t think so, but he never said.

Not like it mattered anymore, anyway.

Sirius had always been more like Orion than Regulus. Both his mother and his brother had told him so more than once. Sirius despised the very idea, the very thought that he would one day grow into becoming his father. Had fought violently to refuse his legacy. Had fought harder to stop his father looking back at him through the mirror.

Strange, now, how he’d never see his father again if he wasn’t looking in the mirror. Regulus had mostly taken after their mother.

Sirius’ father dies on a regular tuesday. The view from the tenth floor is beautiful, the sun just starting to come up, another day coming alive. The painting is still askew, and still will be when they leave this room.

How strange that a day, a night, like this can end. That this room will be the same, only empty of two brothers holding onto each other the best they can waiting for their father to die.

Sirius’ father dies on a regular tuesday.

[mintyeve322]

for anyone concerned by my writing style on my posts that my fic(s) might have no capital letters, random capital letters, or some other issue, i just wanted to clarify i type posts and messages very different from stories.

in stories I'll use proper punctuation, capitalization, spelling, and grammar. (at least to the best of my ability) i just couldn't give two shits about that stuff while I'm rambling here.

just a warning or heads up, haha.

anyway, so that we're on topic, fiddlestan time below the cut.

I think their relationship is pretty quick to take off but slow to be official. i feel like Stan is so starved for affection that she's scared to acknowledge her feelings, especially since affection is sometimes just "platonic girl stuff". don't worry stan, overly affectionate heterosexual female friends drive me insane too.

on Fidd's part, i think she is hesitant to make things official because at first she's not sure if her feelings are genuine or if she's accidentally using Stan, but once she realized thats not it, she's still hesitant to say anything because she doesn't wanna make Stan uncomfortable if she's not right about her feelings.

Fidds is a people pleaser and unhinged as hell before she uses the memory gun, let alone afterwards, so she for sure has made or aquired some crazy shit as gifts for Stan. She for sure has made her at least one robot that malfunctioned and had to be decommissioned, she bought Stan a fish, I'll do some fish research to figure out what kind later but it has some sort of significance, to occupy the empty tank in the shack since Frilliam is lost at sea. She's probably helped Stan make exhibits and made a cryptid up that reminds her of Stan. I feel like she'd get gifts for Stan constantly, and Stan wouldn't know how to act about it because her instinct is to be skeptical of kindness but Fidds was her sister's friend and she hasn't asked Stan for anything in return and she doesn't know why.

Related to Stan's belief that affection is transactional, if Fidds ever gets nervous about the portal or if Stan keeps something from her, like why she got arrested last night or where she found a part and Fidds says she owes Fidds an explanation, Stan will shut down and probably cry in her room for an hour.

Stan is VERY worried that Fidds is gonna reveal one day that she's only there for some sort of payment or gain on her end, and if she even implies that Stan owes her something, Stan will spiral until Fidds is able to figure out the problem and apologize, even if she agrees that she does owe Fiddleford something for all she's done.

Related to this, there's probably a period of time where Fidds is working really hard, to the bone, for Stan. She hates not feeling useful and may have hit a road block she's trying to push through or something, and when Stan tells her to take a break, she interprets it as a sarcastic "just let me do it, idiot" comment and not the "please take a break im worried about you" way stan intended it, due to the fact Ford, with her one track mind, has been harsh to her in that way before.

Fidds is apologetic and swears she's almost got it she just needs more time and please don't maker her leave she promises she can do it, and Stan has to basically grab her, look her in the eyes, and tell her she just needs to take a break and come back later. Fidds says she just wants to be useful for Stan, and Stan tells her she doesn't care if she's useful, she just needs her there and burning herself out working on the project is not worth it. they have a long conversation about how even if fidds never worked on the project again Stan would still want her around and its sad and fluffy.

also a thing where stan gets frustrated and implies Fidds isnt useful and has to comfort her and insist that isn't what she meant because it genuinely wasn't what she meant agh i love miscommunication hurt/comfort

idk im rambling and i feel like we're all so busy unpacking Stan's trauma we forget that Fidds has very real trauma from her work with Ford that has plenty of hurt/comfort potential as well.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

drabble #13 - the massage

kai parker x reader

summary: kai's sure he'll win the bet. you're positive he won't.

tags: massage, teasing, clingy!kai, minor mention of murder (bc it's kai)

word count: 835

a/n: idk why i'm in my cheesy fluff era of writing, but here's more

“Relax,” you giggle, feeling his muscles tense. 

“I’m trying! It’s weird.”

“It’ll feel so much better if you stop moving around.”

“What are you even doing?”

“Trying to help you relax.”

Kai sighs, clearly unsatisfied with your answer. Nevertheless, he stops adjusting his position and takes a deep breath.

“There you go.”

He mumbles something incomprehensible, but you don’t respond. After a second, you start again. The massage tool in your hand makes a slightly squeaky sound as you run it up his back. You make circles on his shoulder blades, then inch up to his neck. He shrugs his shoulders uncomfortably.

“Kai!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No! Yes! I don’t know!”

“Pick one. Tell me to stop, and I will.”

“Don’t stop. I like it, it’s just weird.”

“I can be more gentle.” You do, but he only mumbles more.

“Now I can’t feel it at all.”

“Well then you’re going to have to sit still.”

“I just… what are you even holding?” Without much warning, he flips around to face you. The massage roller in your hand receives a weird stare that makes you laugh. “What even is that?”

“It’s a little tool that helps you relax by easing the knots in your neck and back. Now do you want me to continue, or not?”

“Where do you buy something like that?”

“Literally anywhere. Dollar Tree. Target.”

“I’ve never seen that in my life.”

“Your life has never lived in this decade, Malachai. You lived in the nineties for twenty years.”

“Rude.”

“I’m just saying! Things are different now. We have massage rollers.”

“Weird.”

“Unless you’d prefer to go to an actual massage person, but I bet you’d chicken out.”

He gives you a look. “Me? Chicken out? Do you know who you’re talking to?”

“Um, yes, actually. I’m talking to someone who would absolutely chicken out if anyone but me was touching them.”

“Bet you twenty dollars you’re wrong.”

“You don’t even have twenty dollars.”

“Yes I do.”

“From where? You-”

“Borrowed some the other day.”

“Borrowed?”

“Stole,” he corrects.

“You- Kai!”

“It’s okay! He was using it anymore!”

“Now why’s that? Is he dead?”

“...Maybe.”

“Kai, you can’t-”

“He shouldn’t have made that comment about you within my earshot. He had it coming.”

“Good lord, boy.”

“So twenty dollars I can get through this message-”

“Massage.”

“-thing you’re talking about. I win, you owe me.”

“Probably won’t happen.”

“Guess we’ll see.”

You’ll admit, Kai being anywhere without you gives you an extreme amount of anxiety. Not only because he’s a sociopathic serial killer, but also because you’re overprotective of him almost to a fault. Despite his bully-like attitude to many, he’s a child at heart. He’s gone through so much to make him the way he is, starting in early childhood, and you can’t bear for him to have anymore trauma. It’s probably toxic, thinking of him in such an endearing way, but you can’t help it. You love him. 

“It’ll be one hour, okay?” The massage therapist says as she takes him back. You nod your head at her and Kai’s little wink, then she brings him to the back. 

He bonded to you immediately. Maybe it was because you could see past the bad boy persona he donned on to gain respect. Maybe it was because you were the first to give him a second chance after the merge. Regardless of the reason, he learned you were a person he could trust, so he did. And even though all your friends tell you you’re brave to be friends with such a dangerous person, you’re there for him anyway. He’s pretty sure he loves you, even though he’s afraid to admit it. 

You pull out your phone to pass the time with a game, but no more than ten minutes later, the therapist returns to the waiting room. She catches your attention with a cough, to which you look up questioningly. 

“He’s asking for you,” she says. “I think he’s nervous.”

A little smile creeps on your face at the knowledge that you’ve won. You were right, and he was so determined he could beat you. “Okay.”

She brings you to the room where he’s lying down on the table. You can’t see his face until he pops up slightly to look at you. 

“Hi.”

“Hi there.”

Neither of you bring up the bet. Boy, he does look nervous. A non-joking Kai is a worried Kai, and for a split second, you wonder just how bad of an idea this is. 

“Can you just stay here?”

“Of course.”

“I’m gonna need you to relax,” the woman says, seeing the tension in his muscles before even touching him. 

You take his hand in hopes to reassure him. A little squeeze elicits a deep breath, and a lot of the strain drops. 

“Good. Let me know if you need anything.”

He shakes his head despite the awkward position on his stomach. “No,” he mutters, rather muffled, “just them.”

[sebastianstanisahotmf]

Overlooked

Steve Rogers x reader

A/N This fic is about how overlooked Steve's trauma was in the films. It's just my opinion since he definitely would have had struggles but they weren't really seen in the films. Once again this is just my opinion. Idk if I like this though so I might delete it. I'm not sure though. Also, all mistakes are my own so if you see any feel free to comment them and likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated.

18+ MINORS DNI, THERE'S NOTHING EXPLICIT IN THIS FIC BUT IT DEALS WITH HEAVY THEMES

Summary Steve is struggling and you convince him to get help

DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER APPS/SITES. THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR.

Warnings Fluff, angst (a lot), allusions to being suicidal kinda (if these things trigger you in any way then please don't read it)

Steve was your everything. He was the reason you woke up with a smile every day. You trusted him with your deepest secrets and he does the same with you. That’s how you got into the position you were in. 

Steve was lying on your chest while you ran your fingers through his soft hair as he sobbed. It broke your heart to see him in such a state but, there was nothing you could do but hold him until the crying stopped. 

This wasn’t an unusual situation for the both of you to be in. This broke your heart when you came to that realisation since it made you think of how much you saw Steve in such a state.

It was because of Steve being misunderstood by everyone. Everyone saw America’s golden boy who bravely fought in WWII and continues to fight for justice. They saw his best friend -formerly the winter soldier- fighting his inner demons and PTSD. 

What they didn't see was the man who was scared to admit he was tortured by memories as well. They didn’t see the man who had nightmares almost every night. They didn’t see the man who would cry for hours on end thinking about the people he watched die, the people he was too late to save, the people he thought he should have swapped places with. 

They might not have seen that, but you did. You saw the look of pure horror on Steve’s face after each nightmare, you saw the way his hands trembled and you saw the way Steve would try to fight back the tears. You saw everything. 

Steve was so thankful to have you in his life. You brightened his day and made life worth living. Especially in moments like these.

His arms were wrapped around you as he snuggled into your chest. The blanket was over his head; a cocoon of safety, protecting him from the outside world. 

As his sobs turned into whimpers and his breathing evened out, you slightly lifted the blanket so you could look at your boyfriend.

“Do you wanna talk about it baby?” you questioned.

“Could y-you just hold m-me for a bit l-longer?” he replied.

“Of course I can,”

You stayed like that for a while before a thought entered your mind.

“How about we tell Dr Cho or Banner about this Stevie.”

“W-why?” He stuttered, trying not to panic.

“Because babe it hurts me to see you in such a state, especially as often as it has been happening lately.”

“It’s not that bad doll. Bucky’s got it worse,” he responded.

“Maybe he has, but that doesn’t take away from your struggles.”

“B-but what will everyone think? I’m supposed to be Captain America, the man with a plan. Their symbol of hope,” he said, starting to hyperventilate.

“Look at me, Steve,” he lifted his arms so he was resting on them and facing you, “Breathe with me,” you took slow, deep breaths in through your nose and let them out through your mouth.

Steve started to copy you and in no time, he was back to breathing normally.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time baby. Nobody is,” 

“B-but-”

“It’s okay to have struggles. You have every right to ask for help. You went through a war, lost your best friend and then woke up seventy years into the future. If anyone deserves to get help it's you.”

Steve looked at you with pure admiration and love in his eyes. 

“I love you so much, doll.” He leaned in to kiss you, it was so gentle and full of love.

“I love you too Stevie, that’s why I want you to get help. Please. I’ll go with you if you want and I’ll be there for you. Every step of the way.”

“You’re perfect darling,” Steve replied, laying back down on your chest.

“So does that mean you’re going to ask Dr Cho or Banner for help then?” you asked hopefully.

“Yeah, I will do it tomorrow,” Steve looked up at you and then continued in a voice so small and innocent it almost didn't sound like him, “Will you still come with me?”

“Of course I will babe,” you responded with a smile.

_________________________________________

The next day, you woke up to Steve kissing you on the cheek and smiling at you. 

“Good morning, doll,” he whispered.

“G’morning baby,” you replied, kissing him.

“I already booked an appointment with Banner at 1:15pm.” He told you with a smile on his face.

You pulled him down to kiss you, “I’m so proud of you Stevie,” you kissed him again, “so proud.”

Steve’s cheeks had gone red from the praise. Then, he got up and went into the bathroom, leaving you alone in bed with a big smile on your face. 

Once Steve came out of the bathroom, you went inside while he went into the kitchen to make the both of you some coffee and pancakes.

Maybe Steve was struggling but he had you and that’s all that mattered. You gave him purpose and someone to love and he would forever be thankful for that.

Taglist: @buckys-wintersoldier, @nicoline1998enilocin

if you want to join my taglist just click on the link

Also, if you want to see the things that I repost then you can follow my other account @sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs

[callofdudes]

✨COD as text messages✨ (incorrect quotes)

(may or may not scar you)

Soap: I need to go to the hospital.

Gaz: Why?

Soap: Everytime I close my eyes I can't see!

Gaz: Idiot.

-------

Rudy: Wanna come over? No one's home 😏

Alejandro: Be there in a few minutes 😍

Rudy: K

Alejandro: I'm here where are you?

Rudy: I told you no one is home

-------

Price: Hey do you have any condoms I could use? I really need one for tonight.

Soap: Captain?! WTF!! Do you realize who you just texted?

Price: Ya I know that I texted you son. And I also know that you have some. I need one is that ok? I don't want to make the same mistake again.

Soap: Is the mistake me?

Price: ...

-------

Gaz: Dude what is your street name?

Soap: Lil Marco

Gaz: You live on a street called Lil Marco?

Soap: Ohhhh you meant my address?

-------

Alejandro: How do you spell 'me'?

Rudy: ummm... M and E

Alejandro: You forgot the D

Rudy: There's no D in me...

Alejandro: ...I can fix that

Rudy: I'm blocking you

-------

Nikolai: How was Price's surprise party?

Soap: it was great! We scared the cum out of him!!

Nikolai: Soap that's not funny.

Soap: omg! I'm so sorry I meant cum

Soap: NOOOO! I meant we scared the *CRAP out of Price!

Nikolai: ok because the other ones my job :)

Soap: ...

-------

Alex: Dude how drunk was I last night?

Gaz: Well, at one point I convinced you to try and bite your own nose.....

Alex: Then what happened?

Gaz: You were rolling around on the floor for an hour screaming "ITS GETTING AWAY ITS GETTING AWAY!!!!!!"

Alex: I hate you more then words can express....

-------

Soap: Simon there's a moth on the outside of the bathroom door can you get rid of it?

Soap: Pls hurry because I'm going to cry

Soap: Simon

Soap: Ghost!

Ghost: Ghost is dead. You're next. Love, Moth

-------

Price: In a meeting

Price: In a meeting

Price: In a meeting

Price: In a meeting

Price: In a meeting

Laswell: Are you in a meeting?

Price: No, why?

-------

Soap: You're so beautiful.

Soap: Let me take you out. I wanna get you a table at Liv

Soap: Boy I wanna write a song about us

Soap: What u want me to call it?

Ghost: Restraining Order

-------

Alex: What does IDK, LY & TTYL mean?

Gaz: I don't know, love you, talk to you later.

Alex: OK, I will ask Farah

-------

Price: How is practice going?

Ghost: Terrible I want to stab everybody here

Price: Okay just don't get any blood on your clothes

Ghost: You're a military captain you shouldn't be codoning this

Price: Don't tell me how to live my life

-------

Soap: Dude

Soap: Buttholes are like pockets

Soap: Like you can store stuff up there

Soap: And keep it safe

Gaz: no they are not

Gaz: do not do that

-------

Soap: Hey

Ghost: Hey

Soap: How are you

Ghost: I am fine. How about you?

Soap: I've been better

Soap: I'm actually really surprised you texted me

Ghost: You texted me

-------

Price: Hi babe, what are you doing?

Nikolai: Nothing much, 'em really tired. Just going to sleep now babe. And you?

Price: In the club standing behind you

-------

Gaz: So, I hear you like bad boys

Alex: Yea

Gaz: Well, I'm not trying to impress you or anything but my bedtime is 7:00, but I go to bed a 7:02!! WHAT NOW!!

Alex: IS THAT EVEN LEGAL???

Gaz: Idk, I just like living dangerously

Alex: MARRY ME!!!!

-------

Soap: How could you?? I trusted you and you cheated on me!!!

Soap: Oh, sorry Simon That was meant for (guy)

Ghost: Oh.

Ghost: On a completely unrelated topic, have you seen my shotgun anywhere?

-------

Nikolai: You got a letter.

Price: Ok.

Nikolai: From the bank, I think.

Price: Ok.

Nikolai: Tasted important.

-------

Ghost: Come downstairs and talk to me please. I'm lonely.

Soap: Isn't Gaz there?

Ghost: Yes, but I like you more.

-------

I don't know where this idea came from. I found a few funny screenshots that made me think of these guys so I went down a rabbit hole to make these. I'm sorry for any trauma these may have caused 😂. Let me know if you want to see more!

[miya-twins]

idk why but. hcs on msby4 picking each other up. like, physically. I was thinking of them being poly while I came up with it but it could also work platonically

Hinata - he's so so easy to pick up. it all starts with omi unceremoniously and without a word picking him up from where he's sitting on the counter (in front of the coffee maker omi wanted to use) and putting him back down on the kitchen table instead. the other two observed this and a light switched on in their heads. now they all pick hinata up a lot. he's kinda indignant about it, but not truly bothered. he does absolutely everything he can to also pick all of them up at any opportunity to even things out tho.

Bokuto - super loves to pick people up and carry them around, will do it for victory hugs or to carry them home or just because. and really who wouldn't wanna be carried by bokuto so they generally let him. bokuto also loves to be carried just as much, which is a bit more difficult since he's quite heavy, but at least hinata and atsumu are frequently up to the challenge, it might make their arms hurt after long hours of volleyball practice, but bokuto's joyous laughter is so worth it.

Atsumu - he can't be surprise picked up. if you try, he'll immediately lodge one leg between yours and twist out of your grasp, possibly sending you face first to the ground. bokuto and hinata had to learn this the hard way. atsumu says it's some kind of reflex/trauma response from osamu throwing him into the river by their house one too many times as kids (when asked how many times he threw osamu into that river, he won't give a number, but insists it's more times than osamu got him). so atsumu only gets carried if he asks for it, which he frequently does because he likes it. He likes carrying the others more tho, he likes showing off how strong he is.

Sakusa - the least enthusiastic despite having started it. will rol his eyes if asked to carry anyone, but will usually do it anyway. tho if his joints feel bad, he'll only say yes to hinata, which bokuto and atsumu find unfair and hinata feels is a dig at his height (it is). he won't let himself get carried in public, but he secretly enjoys being carried, and once the other three figure that out, they take whatever chance they get to carry him from room to room in the sharehouse. omi still pretends to be annoyed by it, but literally nobody believes him because his poker face is horrible.

[writtenicarus]

AFTG Headcanon Series [4] Kevin

part 1, part 2, part 3 part 4, part 5

Okay first of all let's start off by saying this man is so much more then vodka and goddamn exy, seriously

The fandom and the foxes never take his trauma and issues seriously and it hurts me to the core so much

A year after he told Wymack he was his father he started getting him Father's Day cards, he was extremely embarrassed at first and ran away but Wymack found him after and hugged him

Eventually sees Bee about his drinking problems, he tries very hard to work on it but it's still quite tough and he relapses several times

Trials to call Jeremy and Jean once every two weeks to check in on them, see how they're doing, he's trying to build friendships

Still gets upset on both Riko's birthday and the anniversary of his death but, again, it's another thing he's working on

Is able to set boundaries with Andrew, he doesn't trust him as much as he used to after what happened on the bus trying to figure out where Neil was but he's at peace with it, he doesn't feel bad. Andrew fucked up, he's allowed to distance himself

Finds new friends that take the same classes as him

Starts truly coming out of the shell he was forced into throughout his teenage years and is able to discover who he is as a person

Gets really close with Neil by the end of Neil's second year at Palmetto and he values Neil's opinions on everything

Doodler!!! This man will absently draw on anything without noticing including the people around him

Doesn't like hugs from just anyone but if he does trust you will hug you for hours

Is not really the type to get sick but when he does he takes absolutely no time off to feel better, he just pushes himself until he breaks and moves on

Silently judges people whenever he leaves the house

Idk why but I could see him being really really interested in marine biology

Writes a book at some point in his life - whether it's about exy or whatever he does eventually and it does really well

Can tie his shoelaces at an alarming pace because he used to being forced onto the court as soon as possible, but also because he can't wait

I'd like to say he eventually Coaches his own team, but I don't think he would, I think he would play until he couldn't no longer and opt for a quieter life (perhaps pursuing marine biology)

Misses his mom oh so very much

Hates any form of hot drink unless it's extremely black coffee or tea with ONE sugar

Is trying to get out of the funk he's in when it comes to food, he is trying to learn that not all foods are bad and will kill him just because they're not fruit or vegetables

Afraid of dying and drowning (why he works so hard on being a strong swimmer)

Can't sleep fully in the dark, he got used to it early on but after being at Palmetto and getting used to the life around him, if he ever was put in a dark room it triggers a lot of flashbacks for him

Always helps Abby with dinner when the foxes go to her house, she will never be Kayleigh but he eventually sees her as a motherly figure

Overall, I think his recovery and development as a person starts with him realising he doesn't have to box himself up anymore

Part of why he cared so much for Exy was because it was all he had

Now he has so much more

[radskull-69]

Vent? I guess?? More like talking about this INSANE guy omg

This guy has got to be the worst person I have ever fucking met omg

they never respect boundaries, even SIMPLE ones, like: kissing ppl on the cheek without consent, name calling, trauma dumping, touching

and this guy isn’t even confirmed he has autism, which is fine normally. Because neither am I, and so are most people.

but this mother fucker has gone to TWO offical autistic tests and BOTH said he didn’t have it, but the iNtErNeT quiz said he did so I guess he has it-

said I probably have adhd because I have daddy issues???

has kissed me and my bsf on the cheek without asking and when we confronted him he said he has ‘memory issues’ and doesn’t remember it (it happened only hours prior). Then had a panic attack since we ‘cornered him’ (I texted him on discord)

he CONSTANTLY trauma dumps, like he’d just walk up to me and without even saying hello he’d rant about his ‘broken foot’ or how ‘he hasn’t slept for three weeks straight’

and he so obviously fakes every mental illness and disability ever, it’s annoying bruhhhh. He’s half blind, half death, has scoliosis, schizophrenia, Tourette’s, autism, pregnancy? And so much more I can’t even name (none of these are officially confirmed either, and he only ‘uses’ or has the disability randomly on a blue moon when no one is talking to him)

once when I was getting kicked in the legs and being called useless by a shitty friend he laughed along and agreed I was useless, so in our next class we shared I refused to partner with him and just sat down at my desk. I was his only friend in that class but I didn’t care.

he slammed his chair into the desk, cried and ran out the room. When the teacher asked what’s wrong he went on a rant how ‘no body likes him and how he hates the school’, The teacher offered to be his partner but he said no and just ran outside..

then behind my back to my REAL friends he said I was being a cold asshole to him for no reason?

this mother fucker has faked a pregnancy for two years straight.

when I was dating this guy he sent me his kink list and said ‘I’m fucked if he gets horny’. We’re both minors, just started dating, and he knows I’m asexual.

AND THATS NOT EVEN ALL

once we were making some spicy butter chicken at school, and he was in charge of crushing and adding the spice.

when I ate my butter chicken it was really spicy to me, and I know I’m very sensitive to foods and people like to tease me about it. Which is funny and I can laugh along with it.

but this guy just kept and kept on making fun of me nonstop, calling me a pussy for not handling the spice and how I was ‘so white’ for how i was acting.

so I said- ‘maybe since I’m autistic I take it differently then most others?’ And I thought he’d sympathise since he’s also ‘autistic’.

nope.

motherfucker said ‘erm- well- my autistic level is higher then yours so-👆🤓’

WHAT

what does that got to do with ANYTHING!?? And you don’t even have a confirmed ‘autistic level’, neither do I?? What even is that!??

I hate this guy so muchhhh, the ONLY reason I keep him around in the friend group is because I’m worried he’ll victim blame himself again and make me look bad. Also because as cruel as it sounds, the drama he brings is so entertaining.

luckily my friend group agrees this guy is toxic as fuck and annoying, I’m planning on cutting him from the group the next time he does something fucked up to me again so I can call him out.

because dear GOD is he so annoying..

Idk why I even dated him bruh.. I think he’s what made me aro-ace and that not all relationships are just ‘friendships with extra hand holding’

[joemothersfavoritechild]

“across the street” pt. 3

-mike schmidt x fem!reader

-3.2k-ish words

-no trauma au

an: sorry, i had a lot going on my life lol. not sure why this one took so long for me to finish, but here it is in all it’s corny glory. also, if it’s bad pls don’t tell me. idk how to do this lmao

summary: you bump into someone at the mall & go on a date with your hot neighbor

part two is here!

————————————————————————————

Clothes covered your bedroom floor and you continued adding to the pile. Your date was today. In a few hours, more specifically. Nothing seemed right, lunch is more casual than dinner but you don’t want to be too casual. A dress is probably too much, but leggings are not enough. You grumbled to yourself, Mike probably wasn’t worried about his outfit. He’d probably look good in anything, you decided.

You dropped another hanger on your bed, eyeing the growing pile. How could nothing be appropriate? You had a surplus of clothes, probably too many. How could one guy make you nervous to the point where you hated all of your clothes? Was that normal? Even your favorite dress was hideous to you right now.

Fuck this, you thought. If nothing feels right, you were just going to buy something that did. You were a responsible adult with a savings account, one outfit wouldn’t doom your finances. You reorganized your closet, swiftly taking your phone out to search for the nearest mall.

A mall was a good choice, you thought as you pulled into a parking spot. And being a Tuesday, it wouldn’t be packed full of teenagers. You stepped out of your car, locking it behind you, and walked towards the entrance.

As you walked through the doors, you noticed a map on the wall. Perfect, you can find something that’ll work. There are tons of stores, so you begin your shopping spree.

You spend a while browsing, more window shopping than anything. Clothes at the mall were kind of expensive, making you grimace at the price tags around you. Eventually, you found a small shop with decent prices. You settled on a nice shirt that you found, 22.99. Not too bad, and you could wear a pair of jeans that you had at home. As you checked out with the cashier in front of you, you glanced at the time on your phone. You glanced out of the shop, reading the sign that points to the food court.

You took the bag from the cashier, telling her to have a good day as you walked out of the store. You followed the sign, deciding to grab a treat on your way out. You deserved it.

The food court was massive and surprisingly empty. There was probably a total of ten people scattered around the building. Your eyes scanned the booths, trying to decide on which to stop at. Your eyes caught a familiar figure, doing a double take and stopping in place. Your heart pounded.

It was Mike, in his security uniform. He was surveying the room, hands on his hips. You inspected his face, noticing the serious expression on it. You knew he was a security guard, but seeing him in action was a completely different thing. It was hot.

As if he can sense your presence, you’re caught in his gaze. He’s smirking at you now. Your cheeks heat up, and you look away in embarrassment.

You look back up at him. He’s staring, looking you up and down. He makes eye contact with you again.

Fuck.

Before you can make a run for it, he’s walking towards you. His hands rest on his security belt as he struts towards you. You could make an exit, leave before he got close enough, and claim that you didn’t see him.

But he was fast, cutting through the middle of the food court, he stood in front of you in less than a minute.

“You miss me or something?” He asked. You internally rolled your eyes at his sudden confidence.

“You work here?” You ask, ignoring his question.

“I told you I worked at the mall.”

“I didn’t know it was this mall.”

“What other malls are there?” He asked sarcastically.

“You tell me.” You said, matching his banter.

He tried to hide a smile, but you could see it.

“What’re you doing here?” He asks.

“I was just picking up a shirt. I thought I’d grab a snack.” You answered, and he nodded.

“You like ice cream?”

You thought about it for a second, ice cream sounded good.

“Who doesn’t?”

“Follow me.” He said, leading you through the food court.

He stopped in front of a little shop, the two of you standing side by side. The place was cute, covered in rainbows and pictures of ice cream. He waved at the worker there.

“Your usual, right?” The girl asked.

“Two please.” He corrected.

You watched as she filled two cups with a swirl of chocolate and vanilla ice cream. She placed them on the counter in front of you, inputting something into the register.

“Let me get it.” You say, reaching for your wallet. His hand on your arm stops you.

“I’ve got it.” He says, taking his wallet out of his pocket. It’s small, a simple dark brown leather. Very Mike.

He pays for the ice cream and grabs the cups from the counter. You grab the spoons and some napkins.

“C’mon.” He says, guiding you to a table nearby.

He takes a seat, and you sit in front of him. He pushes your cup towards you and grabs a spoon from your hand. His fingers touch yours for a moment too long.

“Thank you.” You say, scooping some of your ice cream into your mouth. It’s refreshing. The flavors are classic, but not too overpowering and the texture was perfect. Mike knew his ice cream.

“Of course.” He says, copying your movement. He sucks on the spoon for a moment, still making eye contact with you.

You have to look away, your mind putting torturous thoughts in your head. Maybe you were ovulating, or that’s what you told yourself.

His voice brought your eyes back to him. You didn’t hear a word he said.

“What?” You asked, noticing him laughing at you again.

“I asked, do you like it?”

“Oh,” You looked down at your ice cream. “Oh, yeah. It’s good, you didn’t have to buy it though.”

He looked at you in a way that you couldn’t describe, narrowing his eyes. You hid a smile as you watched him.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing.” He said smiling, shrugging and looking away from you.

You kept your eyes on him, pondering conversation topics.

“Long day?” You asked.

“Nah, it’s been okay. I had to kick out some college kids earlier though.”

“No way.” You said in a skeptical voice.

“It’s true, they kept connecting to the speakers and playing weird shit. Fart noises, the whole nine yards.”

“Oh my god.” You said, laughing as you went for another scoop of your treat.

“Living the dream.” He said, pulling another laugh from you.

“You’re funny.”

“I try.”

You smiled at him again despite yourself. God, he was charming. In a “this is just who I am” kind of way. Your hangout went on for at least another fifteen minutes, both of you eating and smiling.

Talking to Mike was easy, he listened to you. And not like a nodding along to appease, like an “I remember every little detail about what you said” kind of way. He asked questions and added things to the conversation. He laughed along to your jokes and widened his eyes when you deemed it appropriate.

Eventually, though, he was torn away from you by the sharp crackle of his walkie-talkie. He eased up from his seat slowly, as though he was being pulled through molasses.

“I’ll see you soon,” He said.

“You will.”

As you watched him walk away, he turned and looked at you again. You smiled and gave him a small wave. His eyes lit up, and he held in a small laugh as he nodded to you.

You sighed as he was out of view.

———————————————————————————

You stood in front of your bathroom mirror, desperately looking at yourself. You had already changed, put a little makeup on, and you were attempting to make something of your hair. It seemed to have a mind of its own.

You decided to put it up, choosing a style that suited your face. As you leaned back to glance over yourself, you smiled. You looked nice.

You grabbed your phone, checking the time. You had about five minutes until Mike was supposed to be at your door. You smiled, thanking the universe for your timeliness.

You added a few spritzes of perfume to your ankles, thanking the internet for this piece of your routine. You froze as you heard a knock on the door, your breathing suddenly picked up.

You grabbed your phone, pocketing it as you walked into the living room. You fast walked to the door, looking through the peephole. Mike stood there, staring at his feet while holding a little bouquet. Your heart softened as you opened up the door.

He smiled at you.

“Hi.” You said, taking the flowers from his outstretched hands.

“Hi. Um, I hope these aren’t too much. A guy was selling them on the street, it just made me think of you.”

“No, not too much at all. Thank you, Mike. They’re pretty” You replied, looking at the small flowers.

He had gotten you a bunch of orange carnations, tied together with a green ribbon. Even if it was last minute, the gesture wasn’t lost on you.

“You’re pretty.” He muttered immediately.

When you looked back up at him he had a sheepish grin on his face, almost embarrassed at the words that slipped through his lips.

“Thank you.” You said with a smile, looking back at the flowers in your hands.

“Want to come in for a second? So I can put them in some water?” You asked, opening the door wider at the suggestion.

He nodded, following you inside. He tailed you as you went into the kitchen. You set the flowers on the island when you got close enough.

Vases were not something that you prioritized in your home, so you settled on an old mason jar that you found. As you filled the glass up, you could hear Mike fiddling with the flowers behind you. He met you at the sink, grabbing the jar from you and placing the flowers inside of it. He arranged them in a neater shape, noticing your gaze.

“It’s not a gift if you do all the work.” He stated, placing them behind the sink.

You paused, watching him. He was right, of course, but most people didn’t think that way. Most people gave you the flowers and called it a day, but that wasn’t Mike. Mike was caring, you noticed. Whether it was with you and flowers, or with his sister and the tender way he took care of her. He was a caring man, and you liked it. It was good for you.

“They look good.” You settled on, trying to push the fuzzy feeling to the back of your mind. You suddenly noticed his outfit. He was now in black pants and a grey button-down shirt.

“No uniform? You look nice.” You asked.

“Oh,” He replied, looking down as if he had just noticed. “I brought an extra pair of clothes to work.”

You smiled, god how was he so nice? He got you flowers and went out of his way to look good for you, and this was all after a few days of knowing you.

“You ready to go?” He asked.

“Yes, I’m starving.” You answered, following him back to the front of the house. You grabbed your bag and locked the door behind you.

The drive to the restaurant was a comfortable silence, the only sound being the quiet radio. His car was on the older side, but it was nice nonetheless. It was clean and smelled nice. Bare minimum, but it was still impressive.

You made small talk on the way.

“How’s work so far? You have to kick any other crazy people out?”

“Eh, it’s fine. It’s funny you say that because there was a crazy lady there today.”

“Oh, yeah?” You asked, suddenly curious.

“Yeah, she was just standing there in the middle of the food court. Totally staring at me.” He continued, eyes wide open as he glanced at you.

“What’d you do?”

“I bought her ice cream.” He said, smiling at the road.

You narrowed your eyes at him, finally understanding.

“That’s just mean.” You said, feigning annoyance.

“No, you don’t understand. Two very separate occasions.” He said as he pulled into a parking spot.

He brought you to a cafe, you realized. It was a small place, but it was beautiful. The inside was very homey, decorated with couches and rugs. The lighting was yellow, really bringing the space together.

He brought you up to the counter, which had plants placed on the corners of the granite. You smiled at him while he ordered, noticing his haste. He’d memorized his order, it was cute.

You ordered your food and drink after him, glancing at the menu as you spoke.

“Oh, and one of those brownies,” Mike added as he took his wallet out of his pocket. Your eyes widened, very curious about this brownie. You had a soft spot for sweets.

The worker nodded and then rang them up. As you walked with Mike to a couch in the corner, you spoke up.

“Let me send you my half, please.” You said, talking about the money.

“No way.” He laughed, sitting next to you on the plush loveseat.

“It’s common knowledge that the person who asks the other out pays.”

“Must not be very common, because I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He teased, looking at you mischievously. You shook your head at him.

“You’re annoying.”

“I was funny earlier.” He continued his teasing.

“That was earlier.” You retorted, narrowing your eyes at him.

He tried and failed to hold in his laugh. You couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

Soon enough, your food came. It was really good. Mike’s was also good, you assumed, as he very loudly groaned at his first bite.

“Let me try it, if it’s so amazing.” You suggested, holding your fork towards his meal.

“Go for it, you won’t be disappointed.” He said, pushing his plate towards you. You slowly took a bite of his food, trying to hide your enjoyment.

It was good, though you would think it’d be awful. He had gotten some weird salad, one with grilled chicken, apple slices, and a pomegranate vinaigrette. You chewed slowly, trying to put a facade of disgust on. He didn’t fall for it.

“Ah, you like it. I can tell.”

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes, stubbornly.

Your date went really well, eating and talking about yourselves. That’s what dates were for, so you went all out. The two of you talked about your plans for the future, what you wanted out of life, and your equally boring and unfulfilling jobs. Eventually, though, the topics landed on parents.

“So your parents won’t babysit Abby, ever?” You asked with raised eyebrows. He sipped on his coffee.

“Nope. We haven’t spoken since I moved out and took her with me.”

“I’m so sorry, Mike.” You said emphatically, you knew what shitty parents were like.

“Don’t be, they sucked. Were yours any better?”

“Not really. We’ve just never really gotten along.” You said with a shrug. He nodded in understanding.

“Seems like we’re in the same boat.” He said, nursing his coffee again.

“Tell me a little more about Abby.” You changed the subject, desperate to know something about the girl you were going to be babysitting during the weekends. Mike’s eyes lit up.

He told you that her favorite color was purple. She loved drawing, puppies, and any form of glitter. She was very girly and always wanted to give him makeovers. She liked to build forts and loved spaghetti and pizza.

Hearing more about Abby made you adore her even more. You loved kids and they always seemed to gravitate towards you. It seemed like babysitting would be fun, especially since you had some tips on what she liked.

Your date had to come to an end at some point, although you were both hesitant to depart from the bubble you had created.

Mike still had to work for the rest of the afternoon, and no matter how many times he told you that they didn’t care, you didn’t want to get him in trouble. He drove you back home, holding your hand in his the whole time.

When you stopped in front of your house he stopped you from opening the car door.

“Wait.” He mumbled, jumping out of the car and running to the passenger side. He opened the door for you, holding out your hand to help you out.

“How chivalrous.” You commented and you stepped out of the vehicle.

“You know me.” He said, shutting the car behind you. He followed you onto the sidewalk in front of your house, walking you towards it.

“This is me.” You said sarcastically as you walked to the front door. He smiled at your words, letting out a little chuckle.

He followed you to your front steps, just looking at you. You returned his gaze, suddenly warm with the tension that you felt. You looked at him curiously, as he glanced at your lips. You understood his intentions.

“Can I?” He asked, getting closer to you.

“Please.” You whispered.

He pulled you close by your hips, your fronts touching. You giggled at the quick movement, cut off by his lips on yours. You closed your eyes on instinct. His lips were soft and warm, all sweetness.

After a few moments of gentle kissing, you pulled away from him smiling. He shared your sentiments, smiling at you as he pushed a stray hair behind your ear.

You had wanted this so bad. And the real thing was even better than you had imagined, it made you want more. You crushed your lips back onto his, eagerly this time. He met your pace with vigor, picking up on the lust behind your actions.

He pushed you up against the door with his hands at your waist. You hungrily pulled him closer by his hair. He groaned into your mouth, allowing your tongue in. You sighed as he brought you impossibly closer.

God, he tasted good, like the brownie you shared earlier, and something else that was distinctively him. His hands eased under your shirt, kneading into the skin of your stomach.

He spread your legs apart with his knees, caging you in a little bit more. You moaned shamelessly when he pressed it up against the crotch of your jeans. He breathed it in like a breath of fresh air.

The sound of a front door shutting brought you both back into the present. He detached his lips from yours, drawing deep breaths. You felt his warm breath on your face.

His glossy eyes looked down on you as he licked his lips. He rested his forehead against yours, both of you coming down from the high of making out on your doorstep.

You started smiling at the situation, pulling one out of him as well. He pecked your lips again as if he couldn’t bear to be away from them. You fought against pulling him back to you. You suddenly remembered his words from the day before.

“On the first date? I thought you wanted to take it slow.” You remarked, he chuckled.

“I just needed to taste you.” He said, kissing your lips again. Your eyes closed involuntarily.

“And it’s basically our second date, so it cancels out.” He murmured as he pulled away.

————————————————————————————

**i do not give anyone permission to use my work as your own

this belongs to @joemothersfavoritechild **

[b3achysurfur]

ok so I don’t believe Aiden is dead. there’s a lot of reasoning behind why I think this, but it’s very vauge because all my theories lead down two separate paths.

SBG CHAPTER 60 SPOILERS AHEAD

idk if y’all noticed the computer like affect around this scene but it only happens three times. All of which are in Ashlyn’s perspective of the incident.

in the second photo, the computer like fliter only appears on ashylns face, the view of Aiden is mostly clear.

I have a lot of questions, and I haven’t picked a theory/explaintion for sure yet, but one of my ideas are that it’s Ashlyn’s fear completely taking over here. We already knew from the beginning of sbg that ashyln often doubts what she sees, as if she doesn’t trust her eyes to tell the truth. we’ve seen her make up excuses and fake scenarios to cope with her reality and things she’s doesn’t understand. This is not her fault though, as we’ve seen it links back to her childhood.

She can often times be pessimistic about situations, always readying for the worst situation to happen as if it’s the only way things could go down. This also relates to her childhood.

Given these two facts, as well as the disorienting fliter over Aiden’s body and her facial expressions, i think it’s safe to assume that Aiden’s injuries are not as life threatening as they appear to be. Yes, I know a ceiling fell on him, I’m not saying he’s not badly injuried. But I don’t think it will provoke a reaction in his real-world body as it did for Tyler, or at least not one as serious.

this side of his face is almost completely fine, minus a few bruises (given some are from the car crash). although, since it’s a head injury, it only takes one side of his head to be damaged for it to be life threatening. But the biggest impact is to his jaw/cheek, not necessarily his skull.

also, the computer-like fliter goes away as soon as another person is thrown into the equation. The streaks return to their normal color of white, and the werid glitch affect on them disappear.

see how the streaks start glitching as soon as ashlyn notices Aiden’s in deathly trouble? Almost as if it’s not real/something is off. We’ve never seen these glitches before (trust me I pay attention to these things).

anyways back to the image before this where Taylor grabs Aiden. The fliter is gone, and ashlyn snaps back into reality with the help of Taylor and her instructions. Taylor’s reaction is to immediately get Aiden under something safe. This part gets a little messy since we don’t have any scenes after this to show which explaintion makes more sense but wtv. Either Taylor is full of adrenaline and is in full protection mode, which is why she doesn’t hesitate to drag Aiden to safety, or she’s aware that his injuries aren’t as bad as Tyler’s / they’re not life threatening. A blow to the face will 9/10 knock you unconscious, regardless of how powerful the hit was. Taylor may have assumed that’s what had happened to Aiden, and she didn’t have time to second guess herself. She is done letting things harm her brother and friends. Anyways, her stepping into action grounds ashlyn and pulls her back to reality.

Also, this scene looks familiar doesn’t it? In the second image, the group was unable to control their emotions and were acting on pure adrenaline and feeling. Ashlyn is obviously experiencing a strong mix of fear, stress, and past trauma. If these two images are comparable, ashlyn mentally assuming/seeing the worst of the situation is not unusual.

Basically, I feel this event is exaggerated because ashyln is trying to cope with the situation. Understand that she is blaming herself for everything right now. Tyler flew out of the car just yesterday. She found him on tree just a few hours ago. She was the one who sedated him. She pulled him off the tree. She saw everything first hand, she felt the most guilty/responsible. Ashlyn has always been the one emphasizing how dangerous their situation is, but to finally see it happen right before your eyes is traumatic.

Aiden has been her main source of comfort since day 1, ashlyn has a soft spot for Aiden. He is her rock of support. So, after seeing Tyler’s ‘death’ and the affect it had on him irl, it’s not crazy to believe she is exaggerating watching Aiden ‘die’. It also makes sense because she’s watching it happen right before her eyes, while she only saw the aftermath of Tyler’s ‘death’. Ashlyn convinced herself Aiden died because she’s not in the right headspace / not mature enough to process it properly. None of them are.

I know a lot of people are speculating that the glitching effect + fliter is them shifting back into their reality since ashlyn said they only had 3 mins left, but I disagree. Lmk if that explaintion would intrest you lot.

again this is all just speculation that is quite underdeveloped. I just wanted to share it before I lost my train of thought. thank u for reading 😋

[aquaquadrant]

Hi there. I’m going insane and it’s your fault. Like I discovered your absolute emotional masterpiece of a fanfic the other day and it’s all I think about anymore I’m so obsessed; I downloaded tumblr bc of you and I don’t really know how this site works but I do know how to click the ask button so that’s your problem now. I got words for you

First off: HOLy the writing and the voices are so good??? Like the characters say things the way their irl counterparts would say it? How?? Teach me your ways? Actually tho what did you do to learn to do that, is it innate, do you practice?

Second: “He wouldn’t have known the sight of Tango’s pale skin flushing bright red all the way down his chest.” That sentence just kinda stuck out to me from the last chapter… for some reason... anyways (idk what my point is here but it sure has got me thinking thoughts :P )

Third: I said I was obsessed, and I think it was an understatement. I didn’t study for my chem final because of this (still got an A tho so dw) and I went to bed for three days straight thinking about it and I woke up every morning thinking about it. (It took a solid hour to snap myself out of it when I actually needed to get work done lol) And on the plane ride home for break I drew some things so I’ll just leave these here if you don’t mind (umm ignore the tango faces on the first page and his left hand on the second, there's something Wrong™ about them I gotta practice, ok?)

idk if the formatting is good or whatever but here they are

As you can see I love love love the scene after the nightmare. If I remember correctly, Tango started wearing the gloves to protect his claws so they could heal after he escaped, and then when Jimmy gets hurt he just instinctively gives them to him?? Hello, the symbolism??? Tango just surrenders his own protection, both physically, because he would rather protect Jimmy, but also emotionally bc it immediately reveals what he considers a flaw in himself, monstrous, hideous. And Jimmy sees him throw the walls up again, “He quickly shoves the gloves at Jimmy, moving to get up. “I’ll uh, I’ll get another pair tomorrow-”” but Jimmy won’t let him, instead looks at what could be considered Tango’s entire soul —his trauma, his Hels origin, the feral, blaze side of him, the side that lies and hides and lashes out at any who get too close, the “ugliest” parts of him —and loves him despite it? Even sees the beauty in him? Yea, no, I’m normal about that—

Anyways idk how long these things are supposed to be but I have a couple more thoughts so you’re still stuck with me. Ummm let’s see… I adore your impulse design. So I’m taking that, thanks. (If that’s ok) also was thinking about how Jimmy would wear shirts with the wings getting in the way (see bottom of 2nd pic), and then thought maybe that’s why he’s so good at embroidery or sewing in general, cuz he has to make custom clothes. And then I thought what if he made some *cough* outfits and had Tango judge them… or asked for help putting on/taking off a particularly difficult shirt... haven’t had time to draw that yet but ya know… one day. Aaaaand the blaze rods could theoretically make a pretty cool fire crown when Tango's angry, also blazes do damage when you touch them, but I don't think you get set on fire? So it must be the blaze rods themselves doing damage, so I imagine when Tango's fighting they swirl around him both to attack whoever gets too close and to block any incoming projectiles (see middle left of 1st pic). +gradients on the blaze rods :]

Last thing, I showed my sister the fic last night and she’s already read through it twice so you’ve infected two of us. We were theorizing on what’ll happen next chapter. We both think that the others will piece together, to some extent, Tango’s backstory before they figure out how to remove the collar, what with the cuffs he wears, the comments Atlas made about a farm, Atlas’s mentioning about using Jimmy that way for his feathers, etc etc. and the comment that Tango can hear everything? Yea, no, when that collar comes off he’s gonna be distraught, I’m wagering that everything immediately bursts into flames around him or something (cuz that’d be cool). I think he'll probably try to run away, too, but we'll see

Anyways, that’s not all my thoughts but this is getting pretty long, so maybe I’ll send another ask later if that’s alright. Have a good day! Post again soon! Please. Please I'm begging you. For my sanity plea-

(actually tho take ur time. quality is worth it, and this is nothing but quality)

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! omg welcome. this was genuinely SUCH a lovely ask to read, but i wanna take the time to properly answer it so i’m gonna continue under the cut cause boy can i ramble

first off: HELLO, you got a tumblr bc of HTP?? incredible. i’m honored that this gay angsty little block man au was your introduction to the hellsite (affectionate). and don’t worry, i welcome asks no matter the length (tho i might not get to everything in a timely manner)

second of all: i’m SO happy you enjoyed my character voices. that’s definitely something that’s taken a bit of practice, especially for more understated characters that don’t have super obvious or unique vocal traits/vernaculars. i find it helpful to a) have spent a decent amount of time watching the source material and b) always go over my dialogue with the character’s voice in my mind, and see if it sounds like something they’d actually say. ofc, sometimes liberties can be taken based on the plot/setting of a fic but generally i spend a lot of time and effort on getting character voices right, so i appreciate the appreciation <3

thirdly: i like that particular sentence too ;0

fourth: THAT ART THO??? oh man. impulse looks amazing (i’ve always loved demon!impulse and gotta credit @lunarcrown for bringing that vision to life 💃) and the wings are SO well done, like you conveyed that leathery thin bat skin texture perfectly. the various tangos are SICK, i luuuuv seeing him in full blaze rage mode, using those blaze rods to their full effect. and those hands… goddamn. not only do i respect the hand anatomy but the ROSES… the shackles and their metallic texture… the gradient on tango’s claws… chef’s kiss 💋👌 and THANK YOUUU the post-nightmare scene was one of my favorites from that chapter, and you’ve summed it up beautifully.

moving on: as with all of lunar’s designs, she’s happy to inspire so BEHOLD, DEMON IMPULSE UPON YE (that’s a yes from both of us LOL) i love ur idea about jimmy making custom shirts to work around his wings, that’s one of those little details i never put much thought into but it fits so nicely with him being into embroidery. so jimmy def makes a lot of his own clothes (and occasionally some for tango), co-signed and approved. and ur on the right track about tango’s blaze rods- most of his defensive fire comes directly from them, doing that crazy swirly fireball thing that actual blaze do, but he does also have the ability to produce fire from his hands, he just doesn’t do it often. it takes a bit more concentration and practice, and he spent so long trying not to use his abilities that it doesn’t come second nature to him anymore. he was way more of a fire starter as a kid in hels.

last but not least: AWW it’s so sweet u got ur sister into the au (lord knows i’ve dragged mine into many a fandom 😂) glad y’all enjoyed it so much, AND now u have someone to theorize with 👀 i won’t say anything more on the matter other than i hope to get the next chapter out over the next couple weeks, so stay tuned…