#lydia night situation /

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Down Bad — Spencer Reid x Fem Reader (Smut 18+)

Summary: After seeing that her ex boyfriend is engaged to his “rebound girl”, Reader finds herself missing the comforts and pleasures of sex.

Notes: ahh!! @reidsbookclub thank you my absolute love for reading this ahead of time. your enthusiasm and support and love is so so so appreciated <3 and this is my piece for @imagining-in-the-margins Friends with Benefits challenge

Word Count: 6 K

Content Warnings: Alcohol consumption (not drunk), oral sex (female receiving), p in v sex, (kinda) dom Spencer ( hopeful ending?), unprotected sex, some negative self body image (reader), finishing inside with birth control, breeding kink, possessive language, dirty talk/crude language (I know Spencer's probably a tab bit OOC but this is me trying here)

Down Bad

There was no way for my situation to turn crappier. My finger stood, haunted and frozen above my phone screen. The bathroom sink ran unattended as I attempted to defrost my heart. It had dropped to my stomach as my eyebrows shot up.

I still followed Lydia, my ex's younger sister on Instagram and Facebook. Her brother might have turned out to be a terrible communicator, but she was cool.

Just a couple of months ago, she was a student in Geology and the last time we spoke she was writing a paper on Ancient Rocks in communities that used aqueducts systems. What you could do with a Master's in Geology was beyond me and my office job. I'm sure she hears too many "you must live under a rock" joke from her dad. He was always cracking the most dad jokes that have ever dad-joked; I missed it. And Lori's South Chocolate Gravy Pie. I didn't even want to know how many sticks of butter it took.

Lydia had her arms thrown around a tall, leggy, blonde girl that looked like her name was Sarah or Hannah. The post was in black and white and Hannah/Sarah showed off her gorgeous ring.

lydia-nielson99 The best honorary sister ever <3!

When my ex and I dated, the idea of fine dining was a night out at a movie sharing a bucket of popcorn and an honest-to-God-attempt at moving hopping. We talked about marriage; he'd slip on fake rings made from grass blades braided together meticulously on my finger, kiss it, and promise me that he'd earn me something worthy of my finger.

The post had only been up for 43 minutes and already had gotten a hundred or so likes. I scrolled the comment section, ignoring the rushing tap, to read the comments from my friends, our couple friends. They must've liked Sarah/Hannah better, or at least liked her and Shane better together then Shane and me. I haven’t heard from them since the breakup.

Aren't most geologists analog? I slipped my phone back into my pocket and washed my hands, wishing that I could crawl under a rock, one of those ancient ones that Lydia studies.

I couldn't decide. I couldn't decide between a red that would give me a headache I could feel in my teeth or straight gasoline that would make my face, and heart, as equally numb.

I wanted something quick and something strong. I was so, so, so over Shane it wasn't even funny. But that didn't stop him from being the love of my life, to the loss of my life. I just wondered, as I roamed the supermarket with my metal carriage holding tequila, limes, Kraft Mac and Cheese, and frozen pizza bagels, if he told Hannah/Sarah the same things.

If he would sit across from her, now probably able to splurge on a dinner fancier than Taco Bell or Denny's, and hold her hands. Would he move her ring from her middle finger to her ring finger like he did on mine?

God, I cringed, dropping in a box of Double Stuffed Oreos, I let him, shit talk me under tables with promises of rings and cradles in the other breath.

I reached for the pint of strawberry as another text pinged. Internally I knew that I would soon face an onslaught of future wine moms just jumping at the chance to "check in with me" during "such a challenging and emotional time" for me. I ignored the message, but it pinged again.

Spencer: Penelope said that the new season of that show you like is on. We can watch it tonight. I think that Hotch is actually gonna let us out at a normal time.

Spencer, my roommate, always texted with formality and correct grammar. I actually think that it would be impossible for him to do anything, but use proper spelling and grammar.

Unlike certain geologists, Spencer is actually analog. When I was searching for a roommate after my break-up, our mutual friend Penelope put us in touch. And just mere months later we've formed a friendship that most days is closer to a partnership than it is to anything else. Friends were hard for me, and relationships even harder. Looking back, I think that allowed Shane to bulldoze through boundaries I didn't even know I should have.

Spencer, a certified genius and self-described technophobe, couldn't tell me the purpose of Instagram, let alone that my ex-boyfriend's sister posted a picture with her newest soon to be sister-in-law, Sarah/Hannah.

I dropped a pint of Rocky Road ice cream and looped around for an extra box of Kraft Mac and Cheese before replying back to Spencer.

Me: Worst. Day. Ever!!! Ice cream & carbs @ 7

I stared at the bottle of tequila, understanding that ever since my 31st birthday, me and excessive drinking due to external crises would result in bloating, headaches, backaches, anxiety, and an entire weekend of recovery. Maybe instead of several shots, but I already finished half of the bottle of red I bought as a bottom of the ninth decision.

"Tequila?" Spencer mused, dropping his bag on the table. "This must be like Defcon 4? And I should know, I work in national security."

I grunted, my fingers drumming against the table. The cheap speaker connected to my phone plays sad breakup music. I saw Spencer's wheels turn as he sat down with me at the table.

"Want boxed Mac & Cheese?" I asked, standing up to scoop some of the dinner into a plate for myself. I didn't seek it out often, but there was something familiar and comforting about Kraft Mac & Cheese. "I know it's got a lot of shitty stuff in it. But I'm actually going to lose my mind tonight."

My voice turned shrill and unsteady. And my eyes flooded with sharp, salty tears. Spencer stood and then backed away, his eyes and face melting in mutual pain. "What happened?"

"Shane's getting married."

"That explains the tequila."

I laughed. Spencer didn't offer any condolences as the seconds ticked and ticked. Instead he looked at me. He must've noticed the groceries. The Oreos, ice creams, and boxes of incredibly processed macaroni and cheese all screamed classic crisis for me. Being as smart as he is, Spencer could probably have told something about me within weeks of meeting me.

"Well, I already drank some of that red wine." I said. "The tequila doesn't sound like a good choice. But bad choices can be fun choices when you want to hide under a rock for the rest of your life."

Spencer still didn't offer anything, he kicked off his shoes and grabbed a bowl from the cabinet. "No tequila."

“You’re no fun." I huffed, grabbing my bowl and heading to the living room. "You promised me new episodes of The Queen's Court."

Spencer still frowned, his arms crossed as his steaming bowl of processed cheese pasta sat to his side on the counter. "I didn't think that Shane still was someone you thought about."

I sighed.

“It’s understandable. He’s marrying the girl he started dating right after breaking-up with you.”

I didn't think about Shane, not that often though. But he still was my first love. The love I shared with Shane was something he stole from me. I had given him all that youth for free; now I was thirty-one. Don't get me wrong, thirty-one is young, I don't feel old. But it's this weird, almost off-putting subliminal feeling when all of my friends either smell like weed or little babies.

"I don't love him. I don't want to be with him."

Spencer had rolled up his sleeves, revealing his forearms. He had a couple pictures of himself when he was younger. Him with his mom at one of his many post-graduate celebrations. One with his co-workers at a bar. He changed a lot; in pictures of the past he was thin and lanky. But now, when he would wear pants or cardigans or button downs with the sleeves rolled up, I found it difficult to not stare in appreciation. My sex life with Shane was good, consistent, and effective. While it might sound clinical to some, I think we both enjoyed knowing that we both knew how to, simply, get the job done for each other. I must be missing sex an awful lot to be getting flushed at the sight of Spencer’s arms.

Two years older than me, Spencer had had a life harder than most people. Penelope explained to me that he was finding it hard to live alone after he was falsely incarcerated. And working the hours he did at the BAU, he found it hard to find someone okay with someone coming home all hours of the night.

Like Spencer, I hated living alone. So together, we built a little home as roommates, as friends, and somewhere along the lines, as partners. And over the last couple of months, Spencer had never brought a date home. I had one hook up about two weeks after we moved in together. It was fine, but not enough to tempt back onto the horrid, vapid, devoid of anything promising landscape that was Bumble and Hinge.

"I just..." I bring my face into my hands in embarrassment. "I miss having someone to come home to who wants to see me."

Spencer crossed through the living room, bowl in hand. He sat criss cross on the floor like he did most nights. "I want to see you. I always want to see you, Y/N."

"You know what I mean, Spencer…And if I'm being honest...sex. God, I miss sex. Good, consistent, effective sex from someone that knows me."

Spencer and I never talked about sex. When we would watch movies that had sex scenes in it, neither of us would talk. One time we watched a movie starring whatever current Hollywood Pretty Boy had captured the hearts of the Internet at the time, and I commented that I would "ride that cowboy into the sunset." I remembered looking at Spencer for his reaction. Usually he would blush or roll his eyes or kick me playfully in the shin for being crass.

But that time he didn't. Instead, his jaw set, grinding firmly and unyieldingly. After that I didn't make sexy jokes or talk about sex in front of him. I thought it made him uncomfortable, till now I suppose

The music changed, and the breakup anthem of the century played. I stood up on the sofa, solo cup in hand and swayed to the music as Spencer stood below.

"You want sex?" Spencer asked. "We can have sex on this sofa right now if that's what you want. I mean, how much wine have you had?"

I busted out laughing, sipping the red wine from my solo cup. I didn't bother for a fancy wine glass. Besides, it was cheap and . And clearly it was working if it made me imagine Spencer Reid, my hot, stoic roommate with dreamy brown eyes, offering me sex.

"Spencer! Come, dance. Please!" His eyes shifted over my body. And he must have noticed the way my knees wobbled under the insecurity of the sofa cushions or the way my eyes must have been glazed and sparkly.

He obliged me, and his hand wrapped around mine. He raised my hand above my head to twirl me and then walked me down from the couch. "Let's get you on level ground. I hurt my leg a couple years after I started the BAU and it's no fun healing up."

He sat me down on the couch and placed a throw blanket on my lap. My bowl of Mac & Cheese was missing, but returned back to my lap, reheated. Spencer also replaced my solo cup, cutting me off, thankfully, from alcohol for the time.

"Peach flavored electrolyte water. And tomorrow I'll make you breakfast." He offered, sitting down on my right as he started the show.

"I didn't mean to be annoying and buzzed. I know you don’t like it" I said, not looking at Spencer. "I don't love him. Or like him. Or even want to be with him. Ugh. No, I just...I want…sex."

Spencer nodded, not even looking at me as the scene between the Queen and her lady's maid wore on. I kept trying to convince Spencer that the Queen was actually the villain and the warring clan would take over and let the series run on and on for an infinite amount of seasons. But it was campy and dramatic and exactly what I needed as I licked my, apparently, very open and painful wounds.

"What's the matter?" I asked, pausing the television. "You look pissed off."

"You know that he was the one that lost out when you guys broke up." Spencer's eyes didn't meet mine, even though the television remained paused. "He didn't deserve you. Not if he didn't know how goddamn lucky he was when he had you."

I don't let my heart think this means anything."What?" But I feel my cheeks prickle with

heat, just like they did when Spencer, albeit jokingly, offered to have sex with me.

"I said, it's his loss. If I had you, I wouldn't ever lose you, Y/N."

"I'm nothing special." I admit. I wasn't the most positive or confident girl, in my mid twenties I went to therapy for a good three years to sort out some baggage from my childhood. We all have something and mine was having a hard time seeing myself. I couldn't maintain positivity, to my brain it was better to remain neutral than to jam positivity down my throat that I couldn't honestly accept.

"You're not nothing special, Y/N." Spencer's voice cut through, sharp and confident. He sat up, his body sliding so close to mine that his knees touched my thighs. "You're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And you're smart. And funny. You make me laugh like no one has during a time in my life when I was convinced no one would be able to."

Our apartment isn't big, but it's enough space for Spencer and I to feel like we're could interact when we wanted, which was most of the time. But there was enough space for us to find our alone time when needed.

As Spencer's knees rubbed against mine and his soft eyes met mine, the room seemed to collapse. It was as if all the air was sucked out.

“And I am so...I've never been happier to have you be the last person I see before I go to sleep and the first person I get to see when I wake up. And if I...and if I had that with you the way he did? I wouldn't have messed it up."

"Spencer…" He raised his hand, showing me his palm, a sign that I think signified he meant no harm, but as he words, heated and charged sliced through me, I could feel them ricochet upon impact.

"I know…But, when I said I would fuck you on this couch, Y/N, it wasn't an empty promise. I meant it. And it wouldn’t have to mean anything.”

Spencer shifted on the couch. It creaked with his weight. The bowl of Mac & Cheese burned against my leg— even through the throw blanket. My heart was racing and racing till it skipped a beat. It nearly stopped. He sounded so sure of himself. I wanted to laugh it off again, as if the thought of me and Spencer hooking up…no fucking on the sofa was something comedic or entertaining.

“Are you…Spencer…are you sure?”

I tried to keep my voice steady, unwilling to let him know that the thought of his hands on my body lit a fire inside of me, a fire that I had yet to challenge. But God do I want to tame it. Sex with Spencer would be messy and complicated.

Spencer’s eyes narrowed in on my face. I would’ve thought that being stared at so intensely would have made me want to sink into the couch so I’d be as forgotten as stray hair ties and pocket change. But I wasn’t. Spencer’s brown eyes, liquid bronze bore into me. I felt a hot excitement wash over me that I knew was arousal.

“Yes.”

“Is it bad that I want you to kiss me?” I sighed. “It’s bad timing for either of us. But…”

“But you want me to kiss you?” I nodded and Spencer moved closer to me on the couch. “You want me to help you forget how that man has made you hurt.”

“Spencer…” Before I could rescind my desire, not that I would ever think about it, his hand cupped my cheek. Spencer’s thumb brushed against my jawbone as his eyes scanned my face. I could smell his lavender mint body wash; crisp and clean.

His mouth was anything, but crisp and clean. It was hot and dirty. Spencer kissed me with a hunger that couldn’t be sated with just one kiss. I knew for the moment his lips touched mine, I was done for. I wasn’t a whiskey drinker; I hardly knew what it even tasted like. But Spencer’s kisses felt like it. He doesn’t drink, but his warm body was flush against mine and I tasted the heady, smokey warmth of a strong cocktail. His arms and torso were thick and solid.

I brought my hands up to his neck and carded my fingers through his scalp. He groaned, the vibrations tingled against my lips as he kissed me. Spencer’s teeth tugged at my bottom lip, pulling it out before he kissed it again. He shifted so his back was against the couch and I was hauled up to his lap.

“There you go, baby.” Spencer said. His hands were large and imposing against my back and I could feel their heat through my shirt.

My muscles and resolve transformed to liquid when he called me that. I could feel my heart surge and lurch and leap as Spencer’s lips nipped against my skin. It was so good, so warm, so achingly wonderful that I felt myself wondering if I could do this over and over. I loved my vibrator and I would continue to love my vibrator long after this once-in-a-life-time situation with my roommate would end. But there was nothing like straddling a man’s lap.

And Spencer Reid was a sight to behold. I knew he used to be skinny, but in the years that I didn’t know him, Spencer had grown up. He filled out his pants with his strong thighs and softer stomach. His pants were strained and tented. I grinded down, enjoying his haughty moan in my ear.

I arched my back, exposing my neck as Spencer’s wet, hot mouth pressed kissed along the column of my throat. Feeling him grin as he kissed me I tugged at his hair sharp and hard. His grunt is a mixture of surprise and pleasure. I didn’t think that he’d be this vocal but with me writing in his lap I felt him try to hold back.

“Just touch me.” I whined, kissing Spencer. “Please just touch me.”

His pants tented against my core. I tensed at the feeling of his erection. My pajama pants and underwear, though thin, offer only a sliver of the friction I desired. Spencer’s fingers, quick and nimble, didn’t hesitate to undo the drawstring bow.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Spencer murmured, kissing my temple. His lips are like a tattoo kiss as he resurrects something inside of me that I had long buried. “Sit on the couch.”

I scrambled to sit, my body acting of its own accord as Spencer’s words rattled through me. He was so confident, so sure, so certain. And his hands never left my body. It was as if there was some internal pull between the two of us. He sank to his knees and swung my right leg over his shoulder. I lifted my butt and he slid my pajama pants off my legs. Tossing them to the floor, Spencer licked his lower lip and looked at me as if I was good enough to eat. I supposed that we were about to find out just exactly how good I was.

“Open up for me, baby girl.” Spencer whispered, his breath landed on my skin and made me jump. “Let me see just how pretty you are.”

Spencer Reid had a dirty mouth. My cheeks and chest and belly burned with arousal. He kissed along the edges of my panties. Spencer’s middle finger dragged along my underwear, teasing my clit through the cotton fabric. With the patience of a saint, Spencer tormented both of us. He looked at me as if he could commit me to memory. His eyes were heavy with lust and something that I swore could mean something more. But that line of thinking had red wine written all over it. It wasn’t drunk. Hell, I wasn’t even buzzed anymore.

“Jesus, I’m a lucky fucking bastard.”

Yet, I sat there. With my legs spread, held open by Spencer’s large hands, practically humming with need and desire.

“Please. Please. Just touch me.” I begged, beyond caring if I sounded wanton with need. Spencer smirked as he hooked a finger underneath my panties and slipped them down my legs. And there I sat, legs spread. Finally he obliged. With two fingers, Spencer dragged them up my exposed core. The heel of his hand brushed against my clit. His skin was soft and his fingers deft and skilled. I closed my eyes as the pleasure took control of my body.

Spencer slipped a fingertip inside of me. He could feel the wetness dripping from my cunt. I grabbed his wrist, forcing him to hold his hand against my core. Our eyes met and I could not tell which one of us decided to let his finger sink inside of me. I watched as he slipped inside and released a throaty moan. My cries were extinguished by Spencer’s unyielding mouth. He pumped in and out, in and out, before slipping out of my cunt all together. I lunged forward at the sudden loss and was met by Spencer’s wry chuckle.

“I am going to eat your pussy. And you are going to cum against my face with your legs around my shoulders.”

I groaned. It’s as if Spencer knew that my brain needed to be switched off. He nipped at my inner thigh. Blood rushed throughout my body and I felt my pussy heat at the sensation. Spencer’s soft breath was hot against my skin as he kissed. He licked a line up my aroused core before flicking his tongue over my clit. It was a teasing, tormenting motion that coaxed a wave of pleasure to build. He’s a man possessed, so far gone that I didn’t even attempt to hold back as a moan rises in my throat.

“Jesus. You are a sight to behold. I’m going to show you how a man takes his time.”

As if he could possibly spread me apart even further, Spencer squeezed my thighs. Clearly he wanted to see all of me. Taste all of me. I could feel a coil tighten in my lower stomach and as Spencer lowered his mouth to my core, I felt the coil snap.

His licks aren’t shy and timid like I imagined. They’re purposeful and powerful. And threaten to melt my carefully crafted guard. He’s already gotten me well past the point of foreplay. I’m so wet that I’m sure cock that tents his pants can slip inside without much resistance. But he didn’t stop. His tongue continued lick and nip and suck against my most intimate area.

“Is this all for me? So wet. So pretty, sweetheart. Your cunt is dripping for me.”

I panted, unable to form a coherent thought as Spencer’s heated gaze spread over me. “All for you. Only for you.”

“Well in that case, I think I have a job to do.

All I could see was red. His hands gripped my thighs. I hated my thighs, usually. They’re too soft and squishy and usually ruin most pairs of pants eventually.

“Fucking hell.” Spencer cursed as he sunk two fingers into my needy cunt. “You’re so hot and tight for me, Y/N. Look at you. All splayed out. All for me.”

“You don’t have to do it until I finish.” I blurted out. “I—I know this isn’t….I want tonight to be for you as much as it is for me.”

Spencer’s eyes shifted.

“Ssshh, shhh,” He cooed. He looked up at me with his eyes big and blissed out. It was almost too much for me to handle. I watched as he kneeled in front of me; pants had become too tight from the moment my fingers groped him. At this point it was nearly impossible to withstand.

“I’ve thought about this way too much for us to rush this. I’m going to take my time with you, baby. You are going to ride my face like a good girl.The only thing that’s keeping me from cumming in my pants is the thought of burying my face into your pulsing cunt followed by my fucking you raw with my leaking cock.”

I yelped as he and sucked along my inner thigh. My skin was impossibly soft and tempting. “Fuck. Fuck, baby. You’re perfect. You are a fucking dream.”

I fisted his hair, feeling the familiar rush of pleasure from my head to my toes. For a while it only set my own bedsheets ablaze, but now it spread to Spencer. He groaned against my core, still lapping me up as the wall of pleasure threatened to come crashing down.

One second I was moaning, feeling myself toe the precipice before I teetered over. The feeling built and crashed before I could even enjoy it.

“Fuck! No. Damn it.” I cursed myself for not being able to climax, despite the down right sinful things Spencer was hell bent on doing between my legs. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t…sometimes I have a hard time.”

“Don’t worry,” Spencer assured, his thumb brushing against my kneecap, “We’ll find our rhythm. Together. Anything you want. And I think I might actually die if I don’t get inside you this second.”

I laughed, dragging Spencer up by the shirt collar. He placed his hands against my hips and pulled me forward for a kiss.

I tasted myself against his lips and it turned my on beyond belief. “I want you. I’m on the pill and I want you. It’s awful timing because I don’t have any condoms and it’s a terrible idea but—”

I’m cut off by Spencer’s lips again. His mouth seared against mine, hot and needy. “I’m clean. I want this. I want you. So badly, sweetheart. So bad.”

I nodded, my mouth unwilling and unable to leave Spencer as he knelt in between my legs. He stood to his full height and took my hands. “I know I have promised to fuck you on this couch, but I have a bad knee and once I’m buried inside you, baby, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back.”

“My bed’s made.”

Spencer’s hands didn’t leave my waist as I walked him to my bedroom. I should’ve been more embarrassed as I walked with him, considering I looked more akin to Winnie the Pooh than a sexy hook up. But once I felt a sharp sting on my ass, I quickly realized that Spencer thought the opposite.

“Don’t blame me.” Spencer said. “With that ass you’re lucky I haven’t had the sense to take you over my knee already.”

I turned, facing Spencer and standing with just an oversized pajama shirt covering my chest. His hands hovered over my waist, pulling me towards him by the fabric of my shirt. “I need to see those tits, baby. They drive me fucking wild in the morning. When you’re sitting on that damn counter with your messy hair and no bra. You’re a sight to behold, baby.”

“On one condition.” I presented, attempting to act as if the dirty words that fell between us had no effect on me. “Those pants? They find their way to the hamper. And fast.”

Spencer chuckled as his fingers brushed stray pieces of my hair away from my face. He touched me with such tenderness that I could feel myself craving it long after it was gone. He dropped his pants, followed by his boxers. I meant to tease him about the mini double helix DNAs printed all over his boxers, but I was effectively silenced by his erection.

I felt him the entire time I sat and made out with in his lap. I could feel how hard and thick and long he must be, but seeing him out in the open made my body lurch with need. He devoured me with his lips, pushing me down into the bed as his quick hands rid me of my shirt. Spencer’s teeth met my nipple, nipping and twisting it to elicit the dirtiest moans from my lips. He smiled, sucking marks into my skin that would last even after all what stood between us shattered.

Licking my lips, I could still taste myself from his kiss. Never feeling anything quite this intense with anyone, I suddenly felt so naked and bare. But Spencer’s calm hands, big and gentle, soothed me wordlessly.

“I need you.” I begged, wanton with need, “I need your cock so bad.” I wasn’t a begging woman, but as Spencer pressed the tip of his cock at my entrance I figured that anyone can learn how to relent now and again.

Sweet kisses to my sweaty skin replaced his dirty words that made me flush. As Spencer hovered above me, I drank him in. His eyes were hazel, but sometimes, depending on what he wore, they were brown or green. I quickly unbuttoned his top, eager to have his warmth spread all over him. He was thick and solid— all man. From the muscles in his back to the furrow of his brow and the slight curl pattern to his hair, Spencer sucked all the air from my lungs.

I was weightless. I was floating. I was soaring.

When he finally slid into me it was with an excruciatingly slow speed. “Don’t wanna hurt you.” He mumbled, a hand brushed my hair and a pair of lips kissed my forehead. “Give ya a chance to see what you can handle.”

Emboldened, I wrapped my legs and interlocked my ankles around Spencer’s butt. He lunged forward and his forehead dipped towards my breast. His kisses were fast and erratic as I felt him sink deeper and deeper inside of me.

“You’re so thick…ah!”

“Oh fuck.” His voice was as raw and as affected as mine. “It’ll be fine, darling. You’re so perfect like this. Taking this cock like a good girl. I know how to make it better for you.”

His thumbs, rough and sharp, circled around my clit helping me to take his cock deeper and deeper. I whined, desperate for the relief and embarrassed at the way I’m at center stage. Spencer took me, made me his and I’m nothing but a mess for him. My bones are liquid as he reaches out for my hand.

It was like there was a blueprint to my body. I had it locked away somewhere. But somehow, somewhere along the way Spencer figured out where it was stored. He read the blueprint. And he knew exactly what to do to make my foundation crumble. With each stroke of his fingers against my clit or pulse of his cock in my pussy, he knew exactly what I needed.

Spencer’s lust filled voice rang clear. “You feel close. I’m so close. Can you come for me? Huh? Show me how you play with that pretty little pussy. How do you do it, Y/N?”

His hands and fingers dug into my lush body with an unrelenting desire I wasn’t accustomed to. Magic fingers. God. And I magic fucking cock. I grabbed his hair, dragging him down to my lips as I teased my clit. Looking down to where our two halves met nearly sent me over the edge. My cock swallowed Spencer’s thick cock, it was hot and erotic and I watched with my mouth hanging open in pure, unadulterated desire. My pussy, wet and hungry for more, begged him for more. I grabbed his ass with my unoccupied, dragging my fingernails down his skin as I begged for him to fuck me harder.

“Harder. Spencer. I need it.”

Spencer brought his face into my neck, kissing and biting my neck as he pounded into me. The angle set rockets of pleasure from my core to my toes, spurring me on as I practically chanted his name. Spencer moaned, his teeth sharp and mouth hot and heady as his kisses grew more and more frantic.

His thrusting was still sharp and calculated as his cocked continued to fuck me. “God, you look gorgeous when I fuck you. All fucked out from my cock. My girl.”

I liked the way he called me his. It was nice to be claimed. To be wanted and desired so badly that two letter little words were tacked on. It was a tiny word, but it changed the entire meaning. It was the sort of word that could make foundations falter and buildings collapse and roommates morph into something else entirely. Endorphins and hormones and who else knows what coursed through my veins.

It was just me and him. Together in a limitless space that neither of us would care to ever leave.

“So close.” I groaned and Spencer knew well enough to just continue rather than to change anything up. “That’s it, baby. Oh! Fuck. Spencer.”

My high came crashing down around me. I felt my cunt clamp around Spencer’s cock as he continued to thrust into me. His eyes watched me with an analytic level of observation. I knew he had a good memory; one that refused to allow him to forget much of anything. But as he watched me fall apart, naked and vulnerable and oh so aroused, it was like he was trying to commit me to memory.

“Come inside. Fuck! Spencer. Please. I need it. I want it.” I begged him, desperate for him to climax inside of me. I wanted to see what it would feel like to have his cum dripping from my needy, spent pussy. I wondered if it would feel different, if it would change something, something fundamentally.

His voice was hoarse and strained as he came, shooting spurts of hot cum into my cunt. It was unabashedly erotic, watching him fall apart with his bare cock stuffed inside me. “Fucking, hell. It’s never been like that before.” He kissed my jaw, holding me in place by my chin while still sheathed inside of me. It was a lovely feeling. Full and safe. I must have been so drunk on him because I thought I could stay like this forever.

The silence that fell between the two of us lingered for several months. Spencer’s fingers danced along my hip bone and up to my rib change. His eyes were closed and his hair was matted with sweat against his forehead. He had creases near his eyes and deep, well set-in bags under his eyes. I wondered how inappropriate it would be for him to spend the night with me. Naked of course. I don’t think either of us could handle having it any other way.

I never fucked my roommate. Nor have I been ballsy enough to have “feel better” sex with a friend. It’s not like I expected him to lay out a red carpet and get down on one knee after he gave me a handful of (earth shattering) orgasms.

“Y/N.” Spencer breathed. A beat passed before I dared to reply.

“Spencer.” He stirred beside me, his hand resting against my thigh.

“I think…I think we’re gonna need to try that again and again and again…” He rolled over onto me, kissing along my jaw. I felt the pads of his thumbs against my bare breasts and sighed.

God, help me. He’s my man.

Taglist: @foxy-eva @reid-ingandweeping @andiebeaword @boldlyvoid

(I know several people asked to be tagged, but if you didn't have that you were above 18 in your blog you won't be tagged in this one!

Please reblog, comment, and like! Feedback and encouragement and interactions are wonderful to receive. Thank you!

[blue-ink-pearls]

So, I know people are really desperate for Sandra Lynn to have hooked up with Pamela Dawn instead of Bobby Dawn, and I completely understand that!* Bobby Dawn is slimy and awful and we don't know much about Pamela, so maybe she's better? But it is 100% Bobby Dawn for two very clear reasons:

Sklonda literally said it was him

Bobby Dawn has always been a predator

The first thing we learn about Sandra Lynn's affair during Spring Break Sophomore Year was that she had just left Aguefort (she dropped out her senior year and got a diploma later on) and she was very young. She was asked to join an established adventuring party of people who were older than her and that had lost one of its members. She fell in love with another member of the party that was already in a relationship, they had an affair, and then when the affair was discovered, Sandra Lynn was blamed, kicked out of the party, and her name was smeared as far and wide as possible by the person who had taken advantage of her so that person could absolve themselves, likely in the eyes of their partner and the party.

So what we can immediately deduce from this is that Sandra Lynn was an outsider to her new adventuring party, likely looked down on as "just a kid", maybe disdained for being a dropout, and most definitely resented for taking the place of the (presumably) dead party member. She was in actively dangerous and stressful situations while questing with the party and she probably had little support from the group during that time.

Sandra Lynn was very very vulnerable.

When he met Sandra Lynn, Bobby Dawn would have been about 20 years younger than he is now, likely in his late 30s/early 40s.** Probably still handsome, still a "dashing" active adventurer. He was married to Pamela already (not just in an established relationship), since he had a child by then that was close to grown and I don't think the Church of Sol would be very happy about a child out of wedlock. He would have been a cleric of Sol and probably still preaching "the good word of Sol" but it likely wouldn't have been constant. You can't give sermons while fighting monsters. I'm sure he even saved Sandra Lynn's life a few times!

The thing about Bobby Dawn being a televangelist now, but not then, is that when he was young, he was probably just as good at persuasion, at finding vulnerable people and exploiting their weaknesses to get what he wanted, and yet he hadn't made a name for himself as a televangelist, so people wouldn't know to be wary of him trying to convert or manipulate them.

The scene between Bobby and Kristen, when Kristen is pretending that Cassandra died shows exactly what kind of terrible person Bobby really is. He is happy to find Kristen devastated, that she is having "a real dark night of the soul" and needs guidance. He refuses to help Kristen stay at Aguefort (something that's within his power), despite knowing how beneficial that would be to her well-being, because that goes against his own goals. He is smug and condescending and cruel. He is preying on Kristen's devastation and vulnerability (not knowing it's an act), to draw her back into the fold of the Church of Helio/Sol.

The person who did that to Kristen, is the exact same person who took advantage of Sandra Lynn when she was still basically a kid, just out of high school. He took advantage of her feelings for him, her inexperience and isolation. And then, when they were discovered, he threw her away and made her the villain so he could get away with it.

He ruined Sandra Lynn's life. Yes, she's happy now with her daughter, her partner, and the beautiful home they've made at Mordred Manor with Adaine, Kristen, Lydia, Ragh, Tracker, Zayn, Aelwyn, Boggy, and 15 cats. But Sandra Lynn ended up with self-esteem and relationship issues that she is still dealing with to this day. Those issues ruined her marriage, could have ruined her relationship with Jawbone, and likely played a hand in the difficulties between her and Fig in Freshman Year, as Sandra Lynn saw her daughter take her first steps into the world of adventuring.

Because Sandra Lynn first wanted to be an adventurer and Bobby Dawn took that away from her, just like he tried to do to Kristen.

Bobby Dawn has shaped his career as a high priest of Sol and as a televangelist by portraying himself as the epitome of righteousness. He is rotten to the core, a predator in a job where he is meant to help people, and I CANNOT WAIT to see the Bad Kids take him down.

*I don't really understand it. Pamela Dawn is likely just as bad as Bobby. She's the chief paladin of the church of Sol, her husband is a televangelist and a High Priest of Sol, and she would have been around the same age as Bobby and having an affair with a vulnerable young girl who she then kicked out of the group and slandered. It being Pamela would still be awful!

**Even with the assumption that both Bobby Dawn and his child had their kids at a young age, the math still has to take into account that Sandra Lynn's daughter is the same age as Bobby Dawn's GRANDSON.

[serpentandlily]

Lost in a Labyrinth - Azriel x Reader

Lost in a Labyrinth Part II - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine. 

Warnings: smut (minors dni), reader is a prostitute, uncomfortable situations (nothing extreme)

a/n: thanks for all the love on the first part! Hope y'all like this one just as much!

➻❥ Part I

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Part II

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

“You look well rested.”

Cashmere winked at you from her seat in front of her vanity. She was brushing out her long hair, getting ready for the evening. You let out a sigh and plopped down at your own vanity in the dressing room. 

“I am,” you replied. “Someone bought out all my nights this month but no one’s shown up. It’s…strange, don’t you think?”

Cashmere shrugged, going back to looking at her reflection in the mirror. “Seems to me like you’ve got yourself a secret admirer.”

You began putting on your makeup for the night, not that you’d have any clients. But you were still expected to be in the Courtyard for a bit. “Secret, maybe, but they're definitely not an admirer. If they were, why wouldn’t they come get what they paid for?”

“Some of these Lords just throw their money around to impress us. I wouldn’t think too much about it, Serenity,” Cashmere said. You fought the urge to cringe at the fake name. “Consider it a vacation of sorts.” 

“Until Lydia finds out,” you snorted. “Then she’ll probably double book me.” 

“Just rub some kohl under your eyes,” Cashmere suggested. “Make it look like you’re still having sleepless nights like the rest of us.” 

“Not a bad idea.”

More girls walked in and you fell silent. Telling Cashmere about your current situation was one thing. You trusted her as a friend. But some of the other girls would likely pass on the information to Lydia and that’s the last thing you wanted. 

You finished your makeup before shrugging on a new lingerie set with a dark pink silk robe over it. You followed the girls to the Courtyard, ready to perform your nightly duties so you could retire back to your room for another peaceful night alone thanks to your mysterious donor. 

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Your vacation was short lived because the next day, Keir showed up and requested sixteen specific girls, your name included, for a party that was being hosted in Hewn City with some elite nobles. Even the High Lord and Lady would be present apparently. Not that you’d be allowed to approach them. Every time you worked these kinds of events, all the girls were given strict instructions on how to dress, what to wear, and what Lords to entertain. 

A dress was waiting for you in the dressing room. It was a long black dress that fell to the floor with two slits on the side to show off your legs. It was backless with a few thin straps that criss crossed on your lower back. Sitting beneath it was a pair of silver heels and on your vanity sat a matching silver jewelry set. 

You had to forgo your bra for the dress, likely the reason it was chosen. You did a sultry smokey eye and dark red lip for your makeup before you pinned your hair into a pretty updo to show off the back of the dress. 

By the time you were finished getting ready, the other girls were too. It wasn’t long before you were being led into the throne room. During parties like this, only the elite and those invited had access to this room in the castle. 

The ebony floors were polished, the carved pillars spanning so high you could hardly see where they connected to the ceiling. Various nobles mingled together, sitting on settees, smoking cigars, with glasses of wine and whiskey in their hands. 

The High Lord and Lady sat on their thrones on top of the dais at the front of the expansive room, dressed finely in all black with their crowns on their heads. Standing next to the High Lord was the General, the big, brutish Illyrian. Next to the High Lady stood the Shadowsinger, his eyes scanning the room. You’d seen the Shadowsinger plenty of times during the occasional trips your High Lord and Lady made to Hewn City. But that night he had walked through your doors in The Labyrinth, you had been taken aback by how beautiful he was. 

Memories of your night with him flashed through your head and you tried to fight off the blush and heat that started coursing through your body. Azriel had been a generous lover. Far more generous than your other clients, that’s for sure. He had actually cared about your pleasure. Not to mention he was the hottest male to walk through your doors.

It was a pity that he had disappeared so quickly and never returned.

“Alright, girls, you know what to do,” Lydia hissed at the group of you. “Do not embarrass me. Anyone who steps out of line will receive a new mark.” 

That was the last thing you wanted to do. You looked down at your hand, at the small tattoo on the inside of your ring finger. You only had two more marks left. Two marks and then freedom would be yours. 

You started mingling with the various Lords, pretending to eagerly listen to them brag about the most mundane things like their latest hunt or new investments. Servants meandered around, filling wine and whiskey glasses. 

When you were younger, you had accepted them like most of the other girls. Having a little alcohol in you always made the night easier. But you were going to steer clear of it—not wanting to jeopardize your progress with Lord Keir and Lydia. 

You started making your way towards the front of the room. You had to steer clear of the High Lord and Lady but the wealthier and more important males always sat near the front. And if you caught the attention of someone Keir wanted gone, that would be just an extra bonus to the money you’d be making off them. 

You were used to eyes trailing after you everywhere you went, but something else was tugging on your senses, making you feel not like you were being ogled at like always but watched. 

Your eyes darted around until they landed on a familiar pair of hazel ones. Azriel hadn’t moved a single step from his post but his eyes were on you. Your steps faltered for a second, taken aback by how intense his stare was. 

Was he scared that you would out him? Address him in front of his High Lord? He should know that you couldn’t. The same way he couldn’t mention anything that took place in the Labyrinth. 

Your name being called shook you from your thoughts. 

Your attention was pulled to a handsome male with long, white hair that matched his equally pale skin. Lord Thanatos’s golden eyes were running up and down your body as he sat sprawled in an armchair like it was the High Lord’s throne. He beckoned you to him with two fingers. 

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you had no other choice but to go to him. He was your least favorite client but he had a weird obsession with you. It was rare for him to choose any other girl in The Labyrinth besides you. You gave him a seductive smile, slipping into your role for the night. “How may I help you, my Lord?”

You let out a small gasp as he latched onto your wrist and pulled you onto his lap. The Lords around him all snickered. He brushed your hair to one side before whispering in your ear, “You’re going to be helping me a lot tonight, sweetheart.” 

Your insides shriveled up. Lord Thanatos was your least favorite client because of how rough he was with you. But he paid a lot of money so Lydia and the guards often looked the other way, only sending a healer into your room once he left. 

“I’m looking forward to it, my Lord,” you purred, resting a hand on his chest. You weren’t, of course. Not even because of the pain he’d inflict on you but more so because Lord Thanatos was Keir’s secondhand man and closest confidant. Which meant those two lines tattooed on your finger would still be there when you woke up tomorrow morning. 

Lord Thanatos went back to chatting with the various nobles seated on the couches and settees around him. If it wasn’t for his wandering hands on your body, you would’ve thought he was ignoring you. His hardening cock that was pressing into your backside had you shifting as much as you could to his thigh. You glanced around the room only to find Azriel’s eyes still on you. His fists were clenched, his face frozen with a hint of anger. Anger and something else that seemed suspiciously like longing. 

You shifted again in Lord Thanatos’s lap for an entirely different reason now. 

Cashmere happened to be walking by when Lord Thanatos grabbed onto her wrist and yanked her down to sit on his other thigh, forcing the two of you to share the small space. 

She giggled. “Two of us? Don’t tell me you’re getting greedy, my Lord.” 

You exchanged a small look with her. It didn’t happen often but sometimes clients wanted to take two girls at once. You preferred when you were chosen along with Cashmere, because you two were close friends which made it less awkward. 

“I think Serenity wants someone to play with,” he smirked, his thumb brushing the underside of your breast. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 

“Anything for you, my Lord,” you smiled. “You know how much I love to please you.” 

He leaned back in his chair and tossed his arms behind his head like he commanded the room. “Go on then. Kiss.” 

You glanced at Cashmere who gave you a dip of the head so you reached forward and hooked some of her ginger hair behind her pointed ear before kissing her lightly. She tasted like cherry wine. You pulled back after a second and for some reason, your eyes caught Azriel’s. He was closer now, leaning on a pillar, wreathed in shadows—watching. He twirled his dagger in his hand with ease. 

“Oh come on, Serenity. Don’t play coy,” Thanatos laughed. “I know that mouth can do better than that.” 

Cashmere grabbed your face lightly, her eyes shining with a look that urged you on. You kissed her properly this time, caressing her face. This time the two of you gave the Lord what he wanted. But you could feel Azriel’s overwhelming stare still on you. 

It wasn’t until your lips were swollen and you were panting that you finally let up. You could feel your lipstick smeared all over and wiped it with your hand. 

“Oh, she’s made such a mess of me, my Lord,” you pouted. “Will you excuse me so I can fix myself up?”

“Sure, sweetheart,” he said, pulling Cashmere closer to him. “But don’t keep us waiting.” 

“Of course,” you said with a nod, rising from his lap. 

When you glanced at the pillar Azriel had been leaning on, he was still staring. It was a bit unnerving. You let out a shaky breath and quickly hurried out of the throne room and into one of the bathing chambers down the corridor. You rested your hands on the edge of the sink, staring down at the basin. You just needed a breather. Just a second to collect yourself. 

Not a moment later, you felt a prickling sensation on your skin and the hairs on the back of your neck rose. Your head shot up and you left out a gasp as your eyes met a pair of hazel ones in your reflection. 

Azriel stood behind you, his shadows swarming him. 

You whirled around, backing into the sink. 

“What are you doing here!” 

Azriel took a step forward, out of the darkness. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he stated in a low voice that had goosebumps rising on your skin. 

You crossed your arms, staring up at him entirely confused both by his appearance in the bathroom of all places and his remark. “Shouldn’t be where? In the bathroom?”

“No,” he growled, stepping closer. “You shouldn’t be here, at this party.”

“What do you mean? You know what I am. We were hired—” You cut yourself off as you had a realization. “It was you, wasn’t it? The one who booked up all my nights?” 

Azriel said nothing, gave no reaction other than his large wings twitching. You swallowed thickly and turned back around, away from his daunting stare, finding it easier to stare at him through the reflection on the mirror. You summoned your small clutch with some magic before pulling out your tube of lipstick. 

“Look, Azriel,” you began, starting to apply your lipstick. “You’re not the first male to feel ashamed after sleeping with me. If you’re doing this to absolve yourself from whatever guilt you have, consider it forgiven.”

Azriel stepped closer, his face darkening. “I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood my actions. I do not feel ashamed because I slept with you, angel. I’m ashamed that I made you sleep with me.” 

You shoved your lipstick back in your purse, turning around to face him. “You didn’t make me do anything. I knew what this job entailed when I signed up for it, okay?”

“But is it…is it what you want?” 

You shrugged your shoulders. “I can’t say it’s been a dream of mine. But it's a hell of a lot better than being sold off to some male and having all my freedoms taken away.”

Azriel ran a hand through his dark hair, tousling it. “Those shouldn’t be your only two choices.”

“Well, take that up with our High Lord, Azriel, I don’t know what to tell you,” you sighed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my client is waiting—”

You went to brush past Azriel to the door but he grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“Don’t,” he breathed, “Don’t go. I know you don’t want to be with him. I could see it in your eyes.”

“I don’t have a choice, Azriel,” you snapped, trying to pull your wrist free. “So let me go.” 

“Sounds like you’ve already had all your freedoms taken away,” he bit back, his grip unrelenting. 

“You know nothing,” you argued. “If this is the one thing I have to sacrifice to keep all my other ones, then so be it. Besides, I’m almost—”

You cut yourself off, cursing in your head at your slip-up. No one could know about the deals the girls at The Labyrinth had with Keir. If word got out because of you…

“Almost what? What were you going to say?”

Azriel’s eyes were pleading with you, like he was hanging off every word that came out of your mouth. You let out a shaky breath and shook your head. “Nothing. Nothing, forget it. Now, please let me go. You’re going to get me in trouble with Lydia.” 

You tried to leave again but Azriel pulled you back. “I can’t stand to see you look so miserable with him. Please, let me help you. I paid for you tonight; I’ll go tell Lydia that I’m taking you back to the—”

“She won’t care. She’s just going to give you your money back,” you cut in. “Lord Thanatos pays a lot of money to have me. More than whatever you gave her.” 

“Then I’ll pay twice as much as him,” Azriel stressed. “Or whatever I have to in order to make sure he doesn’t end up in your bed tonight.” 

“I take my orders from Lydia. What she says goes.” 

“Fine, give me five minutes,” Azriel said with heavy resolve. “Just avoid him for now and I’ll sort it out.” 

You looked at him closely. “Why do you care?” 

“Don’t…don’t ask me that,” Azriel murmured before he disappeared in a whirl of shadows, leaving you stunned and confused. 

You left the bathroom finally, making your way back to the throne room. Your mind was screaming at you to go back to Lord Thanatos before you got in major trouble, but something else in you wanted to listen to Azriel. You had no idea why. You grabbed a champagne flute off a tray from a server and made yourself look busy near a pillar that concealed you from Lord Thanatos’s view. 

Five minutes passed and you were beginning to lose faith in Azriel, resigning yourself to the night with Thanatos when he stepped out of the shadows behind you. You let out a gasp of fright, spilling your full glass of champagne. Azriel grabbed the empty glass from your hand and set it on a table before taking your hand in his and guiding you away from the pillar. 

“I sorted it out,” he whispered under his breath to you. “But Lydia seemed…suspicious of my interest in you.”

“What do you mean?” You hissed back.

“She’s wary of you being a spy for the High Lord,” Azriel answered, quickly. 

You held back a laugh at that. “Then I guess we’ll have to make her think you’re interested in me for…other reasons.”

Azriel stopped and pulled you close to him, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Don’t get me wrong, angel. I am interested in you for all those other reasons, too.” 

A chill skittered down your spine and you looked up at him with a coy smile. “Good, that’ll make this easier than.” 

“Make what easier?”

“The show we’re going to put on for her,” you whispered.

Azriel’s cheeks turned a bit pink and you just knew you were going to have fun with him. 

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Azriel found an armchair next to some empty couches in clearsight of Lydia and sat down, spreading his legs apart in invitation and patting his thigh. His face was unreadable as you sat in his lap, tossing an arm around his neck and throwing your legs over his thigh, leaving them to dangle. He placed an arm around your waist, his hand lying flat on your stomach, and pulled you closer to him. 

Azriel leaned in, whispering, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“You won’t,” you replied, honestly. 

His eyes searched yours for a second before he nodded. You placed a hand on his chest, running your fingers over his leathers. “Aren’t these a little constricting?” 

His throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly. “I’m used to them.” 

You hummed, your eyes darting towards Lydia to see her watching the two of you. “Well, I much prefer you out of them, shadowsinger.” 

Your words had their desired effect. Azriel’s chest rumbled with a quiet growl, his hand caressing your waist. You giggled, pressing a few kisses to his jaw. His scent of cedar and night-chilled mist seemed to envelope you. He gripped your dress in his fist, his entire body tense. 

“Tell me something about yourself,” he whispered, lowly. “Anything.” 

“What do you want to know?” 

Azriel nudged his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. His breath ghosted over your skin, causing goosebumps to spread. “Something real.”

You were never very forthcoming with your clients, always keeping your personal details secret and making up stories and lies to feed their curiosity. But something made you not want to lie to Azriel. 

“My name is Y/n,” you started, shifting closer to him so no one else could overhear anything said. His hand that was on your waist slipped to the exposed skin on your back, his fingers lazily trailing up and down. “I was born to a low-ranking noble and his bitch of a wife, my mother. I was going to be sold off like cattle to some Lord who had already gone through three wives—you can guess what happened to them—but my friend, the one you saw me with earlier, helped me escape.” 

Azriel’s grip on you tightened, pulling you flush against his hard chest. You melted into the heat of his body, the thin dress you had on did nothing to keep you warm. The hand that was on your back slipped to your thigh, parting your skirt so he could touch your smooth skin. Your heart jumped in your chest.

“Tell me their names,” Azriel growled into your ear. “Tell me their names and consider them gone.” 

You laughed, darkly, twisting your arm around his neck to stroke the hairs at his nape. “No need for that. They’ve been…taken care of.” 

Azriel’s other hand drifted up to your throat, grasping it lightly and tilting your head back so he could pepper his own kisses along your jaw and neck. Your breath hitched and you found yourself grinding down on him, gasping as you felt his hardening cock. Suddenly, none of this was pretend. Had it even been pretend in the first place? No…no, it hadn’t. You had been burning and burning for him since the night he had stepped into your room. 

“I’m sorry—” 

You turned to look at him and kissed him firmly before he could finish his sentence. He groaned as your lips met his and you pulled away entirely too soon, lingering only centimeters away. 

“I’m not,” you purred.

Whatever resolve Azriel seemed to have, whatever dignity of yours he was trying to preserve, all of it was forgotten in the moment. He lurched forward and kissed you again, his hand on your throat angling your head to his liking—the rings on his fingers were cold against your heated skin. You moaned at the feeling of his soft lips, at the taste of him. 

His tongue swiped your bottom lip and you gave into the subtle request, parting your lips for him and deepening the kiss. The hand that had been rubbing circles on your thigh slipped dangerously close to the place between your legs that seemed to be begging for him. You’d never been so turned on in your life. The thrill of knowing eyes were on you and the feeling of Azriel consuming you caused your brain to numb all thoughts. 

His hand on your throat slipped down your side, his knuckles running along the side of your breast. You arched into his touch with a mewl and he answered with a small huff, his wings twitching. Meanwhile his tongue was still exploring every inch of your mouth, claiming you in a way that had you throbbing in his lap. 

Azriel pulled away, leaving you panting for air as he began to trail kisses down your jaw and neck again. His wandering hand landed flat against your stomach, pushing you farther into him until you were flush against his body, your legs falling open to either side of his thigh. Your half-opened eyes darted around the room. 

It seems Lydia had lost interest in the two of you but another set of eyes were on you. 

“The High Lord’s watching,” you murmured as he tugged on your earlobe with his teeth. 

“I don’t care,” Azriel growled, his mouth moving to nibble on the delicate skin of your throat.

“He’s not going to get mad that you're allowing yourself to be seen with Hewn City scum?” 

“Fuck him,” he snarled, biting down on your skin and causing you to gasp. He soothed the mark with his tongue before kissing his way up to your mouth again. “Stop talking about another male while you're sitting in my lap.” 

“Yes, sir,” you smirked before he kissed you again, his hips thrusting up into your backside. You groaned, your core rubbing against his thigh with his movement and causing a strike of lightning to flash through your body. The need for him was overwhelming. You’d never felt this way towards anyone. 

His hand drifted higher on your thigh, until his thumb traced the inner junction between your thigh and hip and felt the wetness that had started to spread there. A small whine came from the back of his throat that had butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach. You pulled away from his kiss to stare up at him with lust filled eyes, his own full of hunger and craving. 

“Azriel?”

“Yes, angel?” 

“Get us out of here.” 

Azriel didn’t need to be told twice. His shadows engulfed the two of you and transported you to your room in The Labyrinth. You were on your knees before him not even a second later, overcome with the need to taste him, to touch him, to devour him whole. You pulled at the laces on his pants, your fingers working quickly. Azriel’s hand slipped into your hair, fisting your locks in between his fingers. 

“Angel, you don’t have to—”

“Azriel,” you cut him off, staring up at him with hazy eyes. “Shut the fuck up.” 

Before he could reply, you yanked his pants down causing his large member to spring up, already hard and leaking. You nearly groaned at the sight. He was so big, so big and thick. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the head of his cock and he hissed, his fists tightening in your hair. 

You stared up at him as you took his cock in your hand and licked up his entire length. He let out a loud moan, tossing his head back at the pleasure. You smiled at the sight, your other hand sliding down your body between your legs, hoping to relieve some of the throbbing.

But Azriel growled and yanked your head back.

“Don’t you dare touch yourself,” Azriel commanded. “Only I get to touch you there.” 

If it had been any other male saying those words, you would’ve laughed in their face. But it coming out of Azriel’s mouth only made your throbbing intensify. You whined, but listened, grasping his cock with both hands and finally taking him in your mouth. 

“Fuck,” Azriel hissed, guiding your movement with his hand in your hair. “Fuck, your mouth feels so good.” 

Your thighs rubbed together at his praise and you continued to bob your head back and forth, swirling your tongue under his cock and running it along his veins. His hips began to thrust in time with your movement, his hand guiding you to take more and more of him in your mouth until he was fucking your face. 

“You’re taking me so well,” he moaned, thrusting into your mouth. “Good girl.” 

You choked, tears beginning to slide down your cheeks. Normally you would hate a client treating you like this but with Azriel it felt different. Maybe because his rough taking of you was coupled with small words of praise and encouragement, urging you on.

“Just like that,” he groaned. “Fuck, angel, you look so pretty with your lips around my cock.” 

You whimpered, taking more of him until his cock was hitting the back of your throat. Your hands jerked the part of him you couldn’t take because of his unbelievable size. His groans and growls kept you going, kept the fire between your thighs burning. You needed him more than you needed air. 

Azriel yanked you away from his cock by your hair and you whined at the loss of contact. He pulled you up off the floor, his eyes nearly black with lust. “Take off your dress,” he ordered. 

You maintained eye contact with him as you quickly stripped yourself before him. The air around the two of you was intense, the need for one another so tangible. In this moment, you weren’t Serenity, the prostitute who worked here. But Y/n. The girl underneath the mask. 

“Get on the bed,” he demanded. “On your knees.” 

You scurried to the bed, doing as he asked. You were entirely exposed to him in this position, your arousal dripping down your leg. You could hear him taking off the rest of his leathers and waiting in anticipation until his hands fell on your hips, rubbing them softly. 

“Gods, you are so beautiful,” he murmured, one hand trailing up your back and gently moving your hair to one side so he could see your face. His cock rubbed against your folds, gathering your wetness. “Fuck and so ready for me.” 

“Azriel, please,” you begged. You could feel yourself gripping around nothing, needing to be filled by him and him only. 

“One day, I’m going to worship your entire body,” he grunted. “But I need you, angel. I need you right now.” 

“Please,” you begged again. “Take me. I’m yours.” 

Azriel slammed into you so quickly, it knocked the breath from your lungs. You moaned at the feel of him, at being stretched so thoroughly. He waited a moment, his breathing labored, allowing you to adjust before he slid back out and roughly thrust back in. 

“Say it again,” he growled, taking a brutal pace, slamming into you over and over again. 

You whimpered, “I’m yours.” 

“Again,” he snarled, his pounding into you causing the whole bed to shake. 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the intense pleasure. Your whole body was tingling at his touch, at his words. “I’m yours, Azriel. I’m yours.” 

One hand stayed on your hip to help keep you in place while the other slithered up your back and into your hair, fisting it again. He pulled your head back, exposing your neck as he drilled into you. Your back arched as you cried out at the feeling. You had already been so turned on, your orgasm was quickly building. 

“More,” you groaned. “More, Azriel, please.”

He growled and yanked you up by your hair, pulling your body flush against his. The new angle felt deeper, his cock brutally hitting you in that sweet spot that had you seeing stars. His hand traveled from your waist to your breasts, squeezing and caressing them. Your head fell back against his shoulder as your body arched into his touch. 

He released your hair to rub circles on your clit, leaving you both breathless and screaming. 

Your body was entirely his in this moment. He controlled every ounce of your pleasure, every cry that came from your lips. You had never reveled in giving yourself up like this before. Not until Azriel came. 

“Azriel…I’m gonna….I’m gonna,” you panted, the lewd noise of skin smacking together the only other sound in the room.  

“Be a good girl and cum for me angel,” he whispered, huskily, in your ear. 

His words pushed you over the edge and your orgasm slammed into you. Your entire body clenched around him as waves and waves of pleasure crested through you. Your vision went white hot with it. Azriel’s name fell from your lips like a Devil’s prayer. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, fucking you through your orgasm. Until you finally came down from your high, your body slumping in his hold. He let you fall to the soft bed, your face smashing against the cushions as he held you up by your hips. His rhythm became desperate, feral until he finally came, burying himself in you with a loud growl. 

You were both still panting as he slid out of you with a hiss and fell to the bed next to you. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled your body on top of his, letting his wings stretch out. You laid a cheek on his chest, feeling safe as he wrapped both arms around you. 

“Don’t leave this time,” you whispered. 

Azriel kissed the top of your head. “I won’t.”

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Three days later, you were sitting in Lydia’s office, your nightgown covered in blood, a numb look on your face. Keir was standing before you, leaning against her desk with his arms crossed as he sneered down at you. 

The burning on your ring finger was lingering, one of the tally marks gone. 

“Lydia tells me that the shadowsinger has taken a special interest in you,” Keir said, stroking his jaw. Your eyes remained distant, staring past him to the wall. 

The blood was still warm on your skin and you knew the body lying in your bed hadn’t even stiffened. You knew better than to talk during these meetings, allowing Keir and Lydia to converse with each other while you sat there. 

“Show me your hand,” Keir ordered. 

You lifted your arm, holding it outstretched to him. He took it, twisting it to see your ring finger.

“She only has one mark left, my Lord,” Lydia added from behind her desk. 

“I see that,” Keir said, letting your hand drop. “Your last target is the shadowsinger. Kill him and you will have completed our bargain and will be free to go.” 

Your heart dropped into your stomach, your eyes going wide as you finally looked at the male standing above you. “W-what?” 

“You heard me, girl,” he snarled. “Kill the shadowsinger and you’re free to go.”

Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. 

Keir’s words played in your head over and over again as you made your way to the bathing chambers to finally wash the blood of your latest target off you. 

Kill Azriel and you’d finally be free to leave this place. Finally free to take all the money you’d been saving up and leave this damned court to build a new life for yourself. The dream you’d had all along. Kill Azriel and your dream of being free would finally come true. 

Kill Azriel.   

Kill Azriel or…don’t and end up stuck here, lost in The Labyrinth forever. 

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

taglist: @itsswritten @impossibelle @lilah-asteria @heartless-tate @sheblogs @jesskidding3

@landofpetrichor @thecollegecowgirl @5onedirection5 @cherry-cin @fayeatheart

@brieflyclassymortal @saltedcoffeescotch @glitterypirateduck @eyebagsanonymous @chxosangxl

@daardyrnitta @seasonallyapril @janebirkln @marvelouslovely-barnes @frobrotbaggins

@purple-writer8 @scooobies @superspideyparker @feyretopia @sidthedollface2

@xmalfoyweasleyx @slut4acotar @stbwe @shedreamswithstars @quinzzelx

@sevikas-whore @fightmedraco @ubigaia @sunshineangel-reads @tothestarsandwhateverend @fandomarchiveilyd

@i-am-infinite @scatteredstardustt @rosessndri @sweetestrose569 @roses-r-red54330

@mell-bell @esteriiqww @y0urm0m12 @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @adharanotfound

@romanoffslegacy @theskyisbrighthere @feyres-fireheart @andwereallmadhere @florabelll

@whorefortim @hnnybee0 @strangersunghoon @krowiathemythologynerd @yeetamorrow

@the1harmony @mal-adaptive-dreams @honoredalone @sfhsgrad-blog @mali22

*If you don't see your name, tumblr wouldn't let me tag you :((

[illiterateaffairs]

breaking point | stiles x reader

masterlist

pairing: stiles stilinski x f!reader (best friend/witch)

word count: 2,589

warnings: brief mention of having a period but one sentence! cursing, angst, kissing (oh my!)

summary: set at the end of 3b. you pride yourself on being the strong one in the pack so your friends don't have to be. but after recent events - watching stiles get possessed, losing allison and aiden - you can't push your feelings away any longer. thankfully, there's a sweet boy outside your window ready to be there for you this time.

author's note: i have so much i can say about the world in which this story lives but don't want to drone on and on...so another note at the end and more to come. hope you enjoy! <3 (and for anyone following me for jamie tartt x reader content...do not give up on me yet!)

You couldn’t remember the last time you cried. 

You think it had to have been when you were a kid. Maybe a scraped knee. Maybe after you had rewatched Bambi for the thousandth time.

What you do remember is the core reason you stopped letting yourself cry. 

Seeing Scott after his parents divorced taught you there were worse things in life than cuts and scrapes. You’ll never forget the look on his face the day his dad moved out. You and Stiles tried every trick in the book to make him smile but it took days for you to see his crooked grin again. 

Though, that was nothing compared to when Stiles lost his mom.

You had never experienced grief like that, that wasn’t a cartoon animal in a movie. It was anyone’s guess why your families let Scott and you attend the funeral, but the three of you were already codependent by eight years old. You were overwhelmed by the sight of seeing your silly, sweet best friend cry so hard, and it was harder to watch his dad fight through his own tears. Even Scott got choked up. But not you. 

Of course, you were just as devastated. Claudia was like a mother to you. But observing the equally upset people trying to comfort young Stiles made you want to be the one person in the room who could just be there for him and let him mourn. Even as a little girl, you had the selfless instinct to put your feelings aside and prioritize your friend’s.

You stay strong so they don’t have to; that became your mantra, even subconsciously. 

No matter what shit you were going through, you swallowed your own fears, pain, and anger so you could be there for whoever needed you. And that decision soon became a part of your programming. Even if no one was around, you never let yourself break, no matter the situation. 

You stopped crying during movies, no matter how depressing. 

The first time you experienced period cramps so bad you had to stay home from school, you just bit your tongue and didn’t shed a tear. 

As you transitioned to middle school school, and into high school, and your feelings for Stiles went from innocent crush to more, you pushed any heartbreak down when he looked right past you at Lydia Martin. 

Admittedly things have gotten harder the last year. Being there when Scott was bitten by a werewolf was startling but you swallowed your fear for him and focused on his well-being. You even held it together when you started learning of your own supernatural abilities and family secrets that changed everything you thought you knew about yourself. In moments of danger and near-death, you focused on making sure Stiles was okay. Making sure Allison was okay. Lydia, Derek, Isaac, even Jackson at times. You were physically incapable of taking a minute to assess how you felt about things, your mind just redirecting to concern for your friends and loved ones. 

There were some close calls. Mainly when it came to Stiles.

The night he played his first lacrosse game with you cheering in the stands ended with Gerard kidnapping and scarring him. The second you saw his face afterwards, you nearly let the damn break. 

It was no surprise that the last few months were particularly challenging. You could hardly stomach watching Stiles, Scott, and Allison nearly sacrifice themselves to save their parents, your hands plunging Stiles into the ice cold water. It was nearly impossible to watch him become the shell of who he was in the weeks following until he wasn’t himself altogether. 

And then Allison…

You felt the loss of Erica and Boyd heavily but you knew Isaac and Derek were taking it harder, so you were there for them. However with Allison…she was one of your best friends and that made it infinitely more difficult to bear. But she was Lydia’s best friend. Scott’s first love. They needed you more than you needed to cope on your own. 

And then, tonight. Just as you finally put an end to the horror that was the Nogitsune, your pack was hit with another loss: Aiden. Lydia’s relationship with him was complicated, but that didn’t make her any less devastated as she ran out of the school and took in the scene. Holding your friend while she sobbed over the death of two of the most important people in her life is traumatizing, but reaffirming nonetheless; you had no right to cry when someone else was going through worse. 

It was an unhealthy and ridiculous thought, but it was what your brain had been conditioned. 

So here you were, slowly entering your room at an ungodly hour after making sure Lydia would be okay on her own. If it were up to you, you would have stayed with her, but she remained firm that she needed to be alone. And you trusted she meant that. You drop down onto the edge of your bed, heavily, the weight of the last few days - weeks, months, year - making you collapse. Normally, you could push any swirling thoughts away and mindlessly get ready for bed, but as you struggle to pull off your boots, your mind is racing. Scenes of Allison dying, Lydia’s scream, Scott’s face, Stiles collapsing, play in your head. Your lip is quivering. Your hands shake as you drag the shoe’s zipper down your leg. And then suddenly, the unfamiliar feeling of a hot tear streams down your face. You wipe at them hastily, trying to snap yourself out of it but they keep coming. 

You’re on the verge of hyperventilating when you sense someone outside your bedroom window, hearing something bump against it a second later. Without another thought, you’re up and pulling the curtain open, your hand nearly raised to cast one hell of a spell on whoever could be lurking outside at this time after the night you experienced. But your stomach drops when you see Stiles perched on the other side of the glass. Even quicker now, you pull open the window and yank him inside anxiously. 

“Woah, you’re quick. I didn’t even get a chance to knock,” Stiles mutters softly.

“Stiles!” you gasp out as quietly as I can, “What the hell are you doing? You should be in your home, asleep, resting, safe! And you’re risking your life for the second time tonight climbing up here!”

As you scold him, your hands grip onto his flannel, searching him up and down for any sign of distress. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Stiles whispers, his hands reaching out to gently rub your shoulders, “I’m okay, I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not,” you shake your head, “You should be home. You should be with your dad, the last few weeks have been killing him.”

“I texted him,” Stiles bypasses quicker than he should, “I just wanted to see you.”

You look up at him for the first time since he’s been in the room, your eyebrows pinching, “You what?”

“Yeah, I…” Stiles pauses as he observes your face. He gently lifts his right hand to cup your face gently, his thumb wiping a tear, “You’re crying.”

Shit. You’d forgotten about that. 

You swallow thickly, making half a move to pull away from him, but he’s instinctive and doesn’t let you get far. You start shaking your head, averting your gaze again and aggressively wiping at your own face in another attempt to hide. 

“No, I’m okay. I’m fine.” you insist.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” Stiles argues. 

“No it's not,” you shake your head more, “God you shouldn’t be comforting me, you almost died tonight.” 

“But you’re allowed to be upset. A lot has been happening.” 

“But Lydia and Scott…”

“No, Allison was your friend, too. It's been a rough few days...”

“No, Stiles, stop, it's not that!” your voice cracks as you quietly exclaim, looking at him firmly now, “The last few days have been…awful. I am so sad about Aiden, and I am devastated about Allison, but I can’t stop thinking about how Scott and Lydia must feel.”

Stiles sighs, “You cared about them too.”

“I know that, but Lydia lost her boyfriend and her best friend within days. Scott lost, like, the love of his life. And that’s what makes my stomach hurt. My mind keeps going to how much it must be hurting them, and I can’t even comprehend it- I can’t even go there because it seems excruciating. And then I feel guilty for even thinking about that, when that’s not what happened to me. They lost their person, and you’re still…” 

Your voice trails off when you realize the implication of what you’re saying.

He’s your person and he’s still here. 

You feel your eyes widen as you process what you just admitted to your best friend. You take in his own surprised expression as he realizes it, too. His hands are still on either side of your face as you look down and sputter, trying to form another coherent sentence. 

“I just meant…so many bad things have happened the last few days, but the one thing I can't stop thinking about is how I almost lost you tonight…” you whisper. You force yourself to look at him again and his lips part, still in a state of…shock? Awe? 

When he doesn’t say anything after a few seconds, you hurry to fill the silence. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be saying or thinking any of this.”

You make another attempt to pull away from him, but he pulls you closer. 

“No, no,” he whispers.

“You don’t have to say anything to make me feel better, in fact that’s the last thing you should be doing,” you continue rambling.

“Hey, stop it. You don’t ever have to apologize, especially not to me. Just because someone may have gone through worse, doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to react or mourn or feel. You’re always so strong for us but it's okay not to be sometimes. And…” Stiles takes a deep breath, “You’re not the only one thinking about what-ifs tonight.” 

You look at him curiously as he continues. 

“What if I had been stronger? None of this would have happened - that thing couldn’t possess me. What if I had been smarter and figured out how to stop the Nogitsune sooner? What if I had really hurt you when he was in control? What if he targeted you the other night or tonight? What if we lost you instead. Despite everything that happened with everyone there, I can't stop thinking about you, you, you. What if I had lost you?” 

You feel your eyes beginning to well up again, at your body’s mercy with no way of stopping it. You could hardly process Stiles' words, in disbelief of the weight they carried. 

“Stiles…” you whisper, but are unable to complete the thought. 

“That’s why I’m here. I couldn’t stomach being away from you right now.” Stiles pauses, before taking a deep breath and continuing, “I'm sorry for not saying it sooner, and sorry for every second you have spent thinking I don’t feel the way you do. You are the most important person in my life, and all I care about half the time. I am…crazy about you. Maybe that’s a poor word choice after my mental state the last few weeks, but it’s true. And if I’ve learned anything from all of this, it's that life's too short. And I don’t want to spend another moment of my life not being with you.”

You stare at Stiles, forced to blink away stray tears. Your heart is racing and you’re still unable to form words, with a million different thoughts swirling in your head.

Not encouraged by your silence, Stiles starts to grow anxious, slowly stepping back and removing his hands from your face as he speaks again, “Was that…way too much, way too fast?…I can go.”

You hardly let him move an inch before you’re stepping back into his space and holding his arms firmly in place. 

“You mean it?” You ask emotionally, “It’s not just the near death experience talking? You really mean it?”

Stiles nods excessively leaning closer, “Every word. You’re my person, too.”

Your lips twist, as if trying to smile but your emotions are all over the place and it just leads to you choking out a sob. In seconds, Stiles' hands move from your face to wrap tightly around your waist as you sink into his embrace.

“I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t wake up tonight.” You cry into his shoulder as he rocks you back and forth. 

“I’m here. I’m okay,” Stiles whispers soothingly, “Mostly because of you.” 

You try to steady your breath as you reply, “Scott and Kira did most of the work.”

Stiles rubs your back, “Not just the ritual tonight. The thought of getting back to you is what held together the last pieces of sanity I had left.” 

You slowly pull back so you can look up at him again, “Really?”

Stiles nods, reaching up to gently wipe your face, “Yeah…I don’t think I could have survived any of it without of you.”

You take a deep breath, briefly thinking about how much torture the last few weeks have been for him, but push the thoughts away when it becomes too much to stomach. You tenderly place your hands on his face. “I’m sorry we couldn't bring you back sooner.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t think about that. I’m here now, yeah?”

You nod, your eyes flicking around his face, taking in every detail you can see in your dimly lit room. “Yeah…”

Stiles gently brushes a piece of your hair back, whispering, “Right where I want to be.” 

As if by a gravitational pull, your face inches closer to him, your noses brushing first, before your lips finally meet in a soft, timid kiss. Your first real kiss. It only takes seconds for the two of you to become more comfortable, any trepidations fading away as you practically melt into each other. You sigh as his hands move down the curves of your body, your own hands gripping his hair. You would have never, ever pulled away if you didn’t need to breathe. Stupid lungs. 

You stay in contact, pressing your foreheads together. 

Breathing heavily, Stiles asks, “Can I…stay here tonight?”

You nearly laugh, “If you even had half a thought that I was going to let you leave after this, you’re out of your mind.” Not even a second goes by before you realize what you had said, your eyes going wide but then you see half an amused smile on his lips.

Stiles shakes his head, shushing you as he pulls you back in for another kiss. 

After a few more moments of kissing, and after you finally change and curl up in bed with him, your thoughts turn back to the recent events and you find yourself crying again. But unapologetically, comforted by Stiles' embrace and the fact that he was feeling the same things as you. And that it was okay to feel them. You both mourn Allison and all the friends you've lost. And eventually, you fall asleep in each other’s arms. The last few weeks had fully broken you. But it was okay, because you had someone to help pick up your pieces whenever you needed. And you’d be there to do the same for him. 

---

author's note: lmao i never know how to end things. but there it is! my first stiles fic in years. some may have read some of my old work from a years ago, but writing for stiles was my one of my first forays into fanfic over a decade ago. i always fall back on my stiles hyperfixation and with the return of fall, its back in full force.

i envision this work as part of the oc/reader character i've developed (mostly in my head) over the years, where she grew up as stiles and scott's best friend, pining over stiles and eventually finds out she is a witch. however, i never fully committed to a teen wolf rewrite, so i've written a few tidbits a while ago. i have an overall narrative i think she follows, but i also love the idea of playing with different ways stiles and the reader can get together, and this was the idea i've had most recently thinking about season 3b. i imagine the reader had already admitted to her feelings, but the timing wasn't right so she's finally giving into them and stiles finally reveals he reciprocates them. i could go on and on about the details for this "world" and the many alternate routes it can take.

let me know if anyone has any interest is seeing more of witch/bestie!reader x stiles in all of its shapes and forms, and feel free to inbox me any questions/thoughts/anything. also let me know what you thought of this! it finally got me writing again after a year, so i'm a little rusty, but eager to get back into it again <333

and again, i haven't forgotten my jamie series...i am trying to get over a hump of writers block for the next chapter but after that i'm locking in. :)

[naughtyneganjdm]

Love's Second Chance: A Holiday Reunion - Chapter 10

Summary: Tensions are high when Y/N comes home from her trip with Negan to the city when she finds that Joel is already inside of her home waiting for her with a special surprise.

Characters: Joel Miller, the reader (OC), Negan Smith, Elizabeth, Peter, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60501985/chapters/155947468

Warnings: Swearing, angst, dirty talk (maybe?), etc.

Notes: I put this chapter up late last night. Realized I made a mistake. Took it down. Forgot to put it back up. And yeah. My bad. So here it is. Sorry that my schedule is a bit off for this one. Thanks again to those that read this story.

After the day they spent in the city with Negan, coming home almost felt disappointing. Sure, that was a life that Y/N really didn’t think she fit in with but getting that escape from this small town helped more than she ever knew it could. For as long as she could remember, she felt stuck in this town. A place she dreamt of getting away from her whole life. Yet rarely left. And when she did? It was never for very long. But it was never in a way like Negan had given her and the children.

“Thanks for everything, Negan,” Elizabeth spoke up from the backseat, finally drawing Y/N from her thoughts. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw that Elizabeth was looking at the signed baseball that Dale had given them when they were at the baseball stadium. Letting out a small sigh, Y/N felt Negan squeezing at her hand from where their fingers were hooked in her lap. Sweeping her thumb over the back of Negan’s hand, Y/N realized how fast this all was really moving. They were completely comfortable in this situation. It wasn’t awkward at all. The children liked Negan and this felt right. Everything felt right between all of them. Being divorced and dating someone new always seemed like it would be a hard thing, but nothing with Negan was complicated. “This whole experience was really cool.”

“No problem kiddo,” Negan stole a quick glance back in the rearview mirror, giving a smirk and a simple shrug. “Hopefully I’ll get to take you and your brother during the season. So that way you can see it fully and meet the team.”

“No shit,” Peter blurt out causing Negan to snort.

“You’re gonna fit right in kid,” Negan assured Peter who nudged his sister with his arm. What was crazy is that Peter had a mouth like Negan. Peter may have looked like Joel, but his personality and his outward attitude was much more like that of Negan’s. “You and Liz can come to any home game you want. You’re always welcome to come.”

“Always?” Elizabeth repeated and Negan immediately nodded. By the tone of her voice, Elizabeth seemed both skeptical and excited at the same time. “So if I wanted to bring some friends?”

“I will always have tickets waiting for you and you’re welcome to come back any time you want as long as you talk to me beforehand,” Negan declared, bringing Y/N’s hand up to place a kiss over the back of her hand. Thinking about what he said, Negan tipped his head from side to side and let out a small laugh. “Within reason of course. Everyone will have to be…clothed.”

“Yeah, cus’ we know Lydia would take advantage of that shit,” Peter noted teasing Elizabeth about one of her closest friends. “She would hope that all of the players were changing when you went back into the clubhouse.”

“Enough,” Elizabeth silenced her brother causing him to laugh before going back to his phone that he had been playing a game on. Once they pulled onto the street, it had Elizabeth’s eyebrows furrowing and she let out a tense breath. “Dad is here?”

Turning to look toward her home, Y/N realized that her daughter was right noticing that Joel’s truck was parked in the driveway. Sighing loudly, Y/N thought about her last interaction with Joel. Which only made her imagine that this was going to be uncomfortable.

“I thought you were going to drop us off at dad’s later,” Peter commented when Negan pulled into the driveway. The original plan was for Negan to drop them off and he was supposed to go to his mother’s home to check in with her. But now that he saw that Joel was at her home, Negan didn’t know if she needed some kind of back up so he was waiting for some kind of direction with what she wanted him to do.

“I thought so too,” she frowned, squeezing her fingers around Negan’s. She could only imagine what she had waiting for her inside the house with Joel. They weren’t supposed to see each other again until tonight when she dropped the children back off with him. “Thank you for all of this. Yesterday was amazing. All around.”

“It’s no problem,” Negan winked, leaning across the car to faintly brush his lips against hers in a kiss. A loud, disgusted groan fell from the backseat that was followed by a real one after Elizabeth clearly hit her brother for being silly. Laughing against her lips, Negan tipped back and nodded toward the house. “I’ll let you go in and deal with things. I’ll go check in on my mom. If you need me, just let me know and I can be back here in no time.”

“Thank you,” Y/N slurred, giving Negan another kiss goodbye before gathering her things. “I’ll call you later.”

“I look forward to it,” Negan pushed his sunglasses further up his nose, his jaw flexing when she worked her way out of his car.

Giving her a big, cheesy smile had her snickering as she closed the door and waved to him. Wiggling his fingers, Negan waited for them to get out of the car before pulling back slightly to make sure they got to the door. Once they were inside, she looked back to wave telling him they were safe before he finally pulled away.

“Hey dad!” Peter immediately screamed making Y/N tense up with how loud he was purposely being. Moving through the first floor, Peter was desperately looking for his father, but didn’t see him. “Dad! Where are you? I have something to show you!”

“Hey. Inside voices please,” she requested with a small laugh, moving in beside Peter to brush her fingers through his messy hair. There was a sense of worry flooding her veins over the fact that Joel wasn’t anywhere to be found on the first floor. Elizabeth went to go upstairs, but Y/N reached for her hand to stop her. Right now? All she was going on was what she knew. And that was Joel was very upset the last time she saw him. If they couldn’t find Joel, this might have been bad. “Maybe I should go look upstairs first.”

“Why?” Elizabeth tipped her head to the side, confused why her mother would even suggest that. “Where do you think dad is?”

“I’m up here,” Joel called out, his voice sounding incredibly raspy with how loud he was yelling. A weight had been lifted from Y/N’s shoulders, thankful that Joel seemed to be okay. For some reason, the worst-case scenario had flooded Y/N’s head thinking that maybe Joel had done something to himself in their old home.

Pushing through his sister, Peter ran up the stairs skipping a few steps as he went to get to the second floor. Running down the hallway, Peter threw his hands up in the air and huffed, “Where is here?”

“Up here,” Joel scoffed from the top of the ladder that was out from the attic. Scrambling toward the pullout ladder, Peter grabbed a hold of it and laughed. “Common sense buddy.”

“Don’t ask me to have any of that,” Peter snickered, swiftly moving up the ladder toward the attic where Joel was. “What are you doing up here?”

“Well…” Joel stammered, helping Peter get up into the attic. Once his son saw what he was doing, Peter dropped his bookbag at his side and a surprised expression flooded his young features. What was once a dusty, half-finished attic full of junk was a clean, fully finished attic. There were just a few more things that Joel had to complete.

“Mom!” Peter yelled out moving back toward the opening in the floor to gaze down at his mother who stepped up to the ladder. Waving her on, Peter motioned her dramatically to climb up. Pointing behind him, Peter was trying to tell her it was big. “You need to see what dad did while we were gone. It’s nuts.”

“I was hoping to…” Joel huffed, stopping himself when Y/N started to move up the ladder. Clearing his throat, he stepped back and away from the opening to allow her to come up into the attic with them. Originally he wanted to finish the whole thing before she came up here to make it a surprise, but he obviously had run out of time. As she stepped up into the attic, Joel nervously stroked at the back of his neck hoping that she didn’t hate what he had done. He had cleaned everything out, finished the wooden floor and the walls. Did the shelves that he promised he would do. Put the walls up where it was needed and painted them. All he had to do was finish with the large window he was putting in near the nook so anyone that was sitting there would have plenty of light. Y/N was standing at the center of the attic looking around and Joel shrugged his shoulders. “I cleaned all of the junk out of here. The boxes that are over there are the things we would still want. Photos and what not. I brought all the books up here, just haven’t put them in the shelves. I found a desk like the one you wanted and I set it up…”

Pointing over toward the desk that he had gotten, he led her toward it and saw her eyeing it over. There was a photo that he had placed upon the empty desk. Grabbing it, she lifted it to see that it was a family photo from when the children were younger with the two of them. Joel had Elizabeth on his shoulders and he was making a goofy face while she was holding Peter when he was a baby in her arms.

“You can set up your workspace in here so you no longer have to work in the living room or in the dining room,” Joel rubbed his hands together and cleared his throat. Nervousness flooded his body. This was something he wanted to do as a surprise. Something that he knew would have made her happy in the past. And more than anything he wanted her to be happy with it. “I figured you could use that area of the attic for maybe a sitting area? Or somewhere to do your photography. So I just kind of left it open so you can decide what you want to do with it.”

“Wow,” she breathed out, her arms folding in front of her chest when she gazed over the work that Joel had done. Joel’s eyes were locked on her trying to read her emotions while she looked everything over. Considering they weren’t even gone that long, she couldn’t believe how much Joel had gotten done on his own. “This is really nice. You did a good job.”

“From what I remembered, this is exactly what you wanted it to look like. Right?” Joel looked for confirmation noticing the way that she bit down on her bottom lip and nodded. There was a sense of awe in her eyes and it took his breath away. What he had try to do was remember everything she told him she wanted up here in the past when they were married. “Good. That’s really good.”

“I’m gonna get Elizabeth. She needs to see this,” Peter swiftly moved down the ladder which brought Joel’s attention to it.

“You give me a few months and I’ll be able to build a staircase so we don’t have to worry about Peter tripping down the ladder and breaking…everything,” Joel explained with a half smirk, shoving his hands into his jean’s pockets.

“Joel,” she began, taking notice of how tired he looked which made her wonder how long he had been doing this. “You did this all on your own?”

“Most of it,” Joel explained throwing his hand up toward certain areas. “I needed Tommy’s help to carry some of it up here, but I had the thought during the middle of the night after…well, I just realized I always promised you that I would finish this and I never did. I know the key is supposed to be for emergencies only, but you weren’t home and I was going to try to finish it before you got here, I just…” Joel paused to look around, “didn’t.”

“You should hate me right now,” she suggested causing Joel to frown, his hands sliding to his hips to rest them there while adjusting the way he was standing. An ache grew at the center of her chest. After she had turned down Joel and let him know that she didn’t want to be with him, she couldn’t believe he would even do something this nice. “After everything that happened…”

“I don’t hate you. At all,” Joel reasoned with her letting out a huff at the thought. That was hard to believe with how broken she had left him at the school. “I understand it. I may not like it, but you made a decision and I have to honor it. It’s my fault that it turned out the way it did to begin with. This isn’t to make you feel guilty…or…whatever. I did it cus’ I should have done it a long time ago. I want to do the things I always said I would and…never did.”

“But you don’t have to,” she stressed noticing the way that he had a hard time looking at her with his chocolate brown eyes. Reaching out, her fingers curled around Joel’s wrist getting him to look up at her. Pulling it forward, she gave Joel’s hand a small squeeze. Stepping closer, she wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a hug. Resting her head against the center of his chest, she closed her eyes hearing the way his heartbeat grew louder. “Thank you.”

After a moment of awkwardness in his lack of response, Joel finally wrapped her up in his arms and rest his jaw over the top of her head, “You’re welcome. I want to do this.”

Silence followed. Maybe he should have said something more, he just enjoyed the hug that she was giving him after everything they had been through. Joel wasn’t even sure she would want to talk to him after everything. So this was nice.

“I probably smell really awful right now,” Joel confessed, knowing that he had been working hard. And he was sweating. “I don’t know if you want to keep hugging me like this.”

“You’re a contractor Joel. I was used to this smell for years,” she assured him with a tiny chuckle, hearing the steady sound of Joel’s heartbeat underneath where she had her head resting against his chest. “Thank you so much for doing this.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t do it sooner,” Joel apologized in a whisper only to have their hug broken up by the sound of footsteps coming up the ladder. Looking to it, Joel saw Elizabeth’s eyes lighting up once she saw what it was Peter was freaking out about. “Hey Ellie.”

“Dad! This is so cool,” Elizabeth stammered, wiping her hands off on her pants when she got up into the attic. “Much nicer than it was the last time we were in here. A lot less dusty.”

“I’m glad you noticed,” Joel grumbled under his breath causing Elizabeth to chuckle at Joel’s straight forward attitude. “I was hoping to finish before you got home, but I’m a few hours out from that. I have to finish the window. Put the books into the shelves…”

“We can help you with that,” Elizabeth offered and it made Peter immediately scoff. That was like their daughter. Always wanting to help her father with any of the projects that he was doing.

“No thank you,” Peter frowned going to leave only to have Elizabeth grab him by the shirt to pull him back. Stumbling into place, Peter’s big brown eyes stared out at his parents and he offered up a big, crooked smile. “I’d love to help you guys! I can’t think of a better way to spend the rest of my day!”

“Good boy,” Y/N laughed moving across the attic to wrap her arm loosely around Peter who rolled his eyes at his sister’s antics. “It’s only polite for us to help your father after he put in all the work that he did.”

“And it’s for mom. It’d be nice to do something for her,” Elizabeth noted causing a warmth to flood Y/N’s body. It was nice to hear that Elizabeth thought she deserved good things.

So that’s what they did. They all helped Joel finish what he had left. What was strange about it was that it was the first time in many years that they had worked together as a family on a project bigger than cookies. Even long before they actually were divorced.

They worked together well. With Joel directing them what to do, it was pretty easy. Once everything was finished and cleaned up, it left only for her to bring things up to fill the space that Joel had done for her along with go through the boxes of important things that he left.

With Joel finishing something up over by the window with Peter, Y/N worked with Elizabeth to go through the old boxes which were some of the children’s old toys, clothes and of course pictures that she figured she would just leave as is right now.

A loud groan pulled her away from where she was seated with Elizabeth on the ground seeing that Peter had jumped onto Joel’s back with his arm wrapped around his father’s shoulders and his legs wrapped around Joel’s waist. This was something Joel and him had done a lot in the past. Fake wrestle with each other. She had always warned Joel that it would come back to kick him in the ass one day, but he still did it with Peter.

“Y’know, this was a whole lot easier when you were fifty pounds lighter,” Joel grunted using his weight to flip Peter over his head onto the cushion of the nook that was by the window. Loud laughter followed once Joel started tickling Peter to give him pay back for the sneak attack. “I’m still stronger than you.”

“I give,” Peter burst out in laughter trying to push his father’s hand away, but Joel wasn’t stopping. “This is cheating! Mom!”

Getting up from the ground, she moved over toward the nook with Elizabeth following her who joined in with Joel tickling her little brother who howled out in laughter while trying to push them both away, “I don’t remember there being any rules.”

“Mom!” Peter called out once more, tears running down his face from the laughter of having his father and his sister tickling him. “I’m too old for this! I’m too old for the tickle torture!”

“You’re never too old for that,” Joel alerted him with a smirk, finding amusement in the way his son’s face was beet red. A moment later Joel felt hands tickling at his ribs which had him using one of his hands to try to swat them away. “Hey!”

“You’re never too old for tickle torture,” Y/N replied back having Joel trying to swat her hands away when he started laughing. “It’s you he got the ticklish gene from.”

“Is not, stop,” Joel demanded trying to hold back a laugh now that she had his full attention. “I really am too old for it.”

“Dad’s ticklish?” Elizabeth started in with her mother giving Peter a moment to catch his breath now that they were focused on Joel. Soon Joel was wiggling like a fish underneath them trying to get them to stop. “Why did I never know this?”

“Because daddy isn’t ticklish,” Joel growled out managing to flip Y/N over onto her back on the cushion of the nook. Pinning her down, Joel’s fingers curled tightly around her wrists to pin her down onto the cushion. The room went silent with his lips hovering just over hers with both their laughter filling the air. Realizing the position that they were in, Joel’s laughter slowly lowered down until his nose slightly nudged hers.

“Mom? Dad?” Elizabeth stammered drawing the both of them to look over at Peter and Elizabeth who were now staring out at them with a surprised expression. It had Joel immediately letting go of Y/N to move away from her to sit at the edge of the nook area. “You okay?”

“Of course,” Y/N carefully pulled herself up into a seated positioning realizing that both Elizabeth and Peter were unsure of how to respond to what they had just seen between their parents. “How about I go make us something to eat for dinner? I’m sure everyone is hungry after everything.”

“I’m hungry,” Peter held his hand up eagerly eliciting a smile from Joel’s lips at how silly his son was. Hopping up from the sitting area in the nook, Peter headed for the ladder to crawl down first. There was an odd expression in Elizabeth’s eyes still when they awkwardly moved across the room.

“You coming,” Elizabeth noticed that Joel stopped and he held his hand up. “Dad?”

“I just want to make sure that I’ve got everything,” Joel waved for them to go ahead downstairs. Turning away from them, Y/N assumed that he needed his time so she gave it to him.

Going down the ladder first, Y/N helped Elizabeth down carefully. Changed into something more relaxed and then went downstairs. Joel was still in the attic by the time she got in the kitchen. Once she was in there, something at the center of the table caught her eyes. The flowers that Joel had tried giving her the other night that she had left were in a vase as the centerpiece of the table.

Seeing them took her breath away. Guilt ate away at her remembering that night. How she reacted, the things that Joel had said. What she had done to punish herself. Having Joel put them there confused her. Footsteps drew her to look back over her shoulder to see Joel walking into the kitchen, slowly coming to a halt when he noticed her eyeing over the flowers.

“I got them for you,” Joel reasoned with her, shoving his hands into his pockets. Shrugging, he tried to come up with some good kind of explanation why he brought them here, but at the end of the day? It just felt like the right thing to do. “They belong with you. I wasn’t going to throw them away or give them to anyone else because…they are yours.”

“Thank you,” all she could do was say that. Looking at them had her eyes burning. Emotions were eating away at her which was inappropriate. Especially after how she turned him down when he gave them to her. Forcing herself to look away, she moved for the refrigerator to see what she had. “You can go see what the children are up to. I’ll find something to make.”

“I’d like to help you,” Joel offered, showing his hands to her to show that they were clean. “I just grabbed some clothes that were still here that were mine lingering around. I’m clean. I won’t get anyone sick.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she lifted her head from where she was looking. Shrugging, Joel moved around the refrigerator to help her look for things.

“I could really go for a burger,” Joel declared with a huff reaching out for the ground beef that was there. Looking at the packaging, he grabbed a few more things and surprised her with the way he started to help her prepare the meal. Having her eye him over like that made him feel strange. “What?”

“I can’t remember the last time we made a meal together,” she responded, her eyes full of surprise with him helping her.

“I should have been helping you all along. Lord knows I eat enough of your food. I might as well help you make it sometimes,” Joel commented with a wink. Going back to get the burgers prepared, Joel could hear her moving around behind him getting some potatoes to prepare to make some French fries. “Remind me I have something in the truck that I want to add to the attic before I leave.”

“You have more?” she teased him, moving in beside him at the counter to start working on the fries.

“This one was planned in my head for a very long time. I think you’re going to like it,” Joel suggested giving her a quick glance. Clearing his throat, Joel went back to working. Softly speaking up, Joel knew that he was testing the hot water here with saying this. “I wish I would have spent more time with you when we were married. We should have been doing things like this all along.”

“We did at first,” she reminded him hearing Joel sighing when he dropped his head forward. “It was fun playing a game of what the hell can we make for a meal with these odds and ends of supplies that we have.”

“Lots of rice bowls, mashed potatoes, ramen and those cheap pasta packs,” Joel recalled with a shudder causing her to giggle. “I’ll never look at instant mashed potatoes the same way again. That was gross. Beans. Christ. I couldn’t believe how many ways you could come up with a way for them.”

“We did our best,” she noted with a laugh, moving over toward the spices that he had already gotten out to look through them. “But we managed.”

“We did,” Joel agreed with her, thinking back to when he was younger. “I have a confession to make.”

“Yeah?” she looked to him with an amused expression.

“All those things we mentioned I have a hard time eating, but there is one thing I still love after all of this time. I can’t get over Chef Boyardee,” Joel informed her hearing her giggling in response. “Some days, I won’t even bother to warm it up. I can eat it right out of that can. It’s like the boy inside of me still lives somehow when I eat it.”

“No wonder you like coming over here and stealing my food so much,” she playfully stammered nudging him in the ribs hearing his amused scoff. “There is nothing wrong with that. I remember how much you liked it when we were younger. I never got the whole eating it out of the can thing, but you like what you like.”

“Ellie likes it,” Joel reminded her about their daughter drawing her to laugh. “What?”

“She’s a mini version of you because she loves you so damn much,” she pointed out getting Joel to look up at her while she continued cutting up the potatoes. “Anything you did? She was doing growing up. If you drank from the milk carton? So did she. You were…you are her hero. So of course she likes eating it like that. You would always sit her on the couch with you, watch cartoons with her and eat from the can. She thought it was so cool. It was your special thing together.”

“Who knew eating cold ravioli from a can could be so special,” Joel sighed loudly remembering what it was like when they were younger. How he would be the first one up on the weekends even though he was exhausted because he wanted to spend every minute with his daughter. “I love her. So much.”

“I know you do,” she couldn’t deny that fact. Joel loved both children. He showed it. In a lot of ways. He always did. “And they love you just as much. You did good with them Joel. Even when you were busy, you showed up for them. I don’t regret you being their father one bit. My children grew up knowing love from both of their parents. Not many people get that. So in my mind? I was lucky you were their father.”

“That’s uh…that’s really nice,” Joel breathed out loudly, working to help her with the fries now. Hearing her say that made him surprisingly emotional, but he didn’t want to show her that with his actions. “Thank you.”

“It’s just the truth, Joel,” she stated with a long exhale knowing that she didn’t regret having him in her life, she just wished things would have gone differently.

“Can I ask you something?” Joel wondered, his jaw clenching when he turned to face her, bracing his weight on his right hand against the counter. Waiting, she didn’t seem to give him an answer because ultimately he would ask anyways. “Why me? Why was it me that you had a crush on growing up? Negan was your shadow. He would have done anything for you. He did do everything for you. Why was I the one that you were obsessed with?”

“I wasn’t obsessed with you,” she feigned being offended which got a very over the top serious expression from Joel. Finishing with cutting the potatoes and preparing them correctly, she took a minute to think things over. “I don’t know. You were really cute. With your big brown eyes, your dimples and the way you tried to act so grumpy. You were something new. Something I wasn’t used to. And then the older you got, the hotter you got. Maybe it was because you didn’t give me the time of day that had me so hooked on you. I knew you had zero interest. I didn’t get it.”

“I didn’t have zero interest,” Joel countered with a huff, folding his arms in front of his chest and leaning his hip now against the counter. “You just…scared me. You were very on. Showing up all the time. And you could kick the ass of a boy twice my size. I could too, but you were this girl two years younger than me holding your own. You were more like one of the boys than…”

“Someone to crush on,” she finished for Joel who thought it over, but didn’t respond. Instead the crease over his nose seemed to grow more. “What was it that made you finally like me?”

“What do you mean?” Joel stammered, moving around her to prepare to start cooking the food. “I told you the other night the day that I fell in love with you. Why would you think it was anything else?”

“It was just a quick switch,” she remembered how fast Joel went from being her friend to essentially throwing himself at her. “You didn’t want me to suddenly you were making out with me and dragging me home to sleep with you.”

“Do you regret that it was me that took your virginity and not Negan?” Joel wondered causing the color to drain from her face at the thought. “I know you guys did things, but I took your virginity and I wonder if you would have preferred Negan.”

“Sometimes,” she was honest with him eliciting his breathing to grow louder. There were a lot of nights where she thought about the what if with things. “I think Negan would have maybe been a little more…”

“Romantic?” Joel stammered having her nod her head a bit. Knowing that she thought Negan might have been a better first did have him insanely jealous. “So you didn’t like our first time together?”

“Sure I did. It just…” she paused looking Joel over noticing the way that he seemed uncomfortable with the idea. “It hurt. But it’s not because you were bad or awful at it. You weren’t. I just wasn’t ready and I was rushing things. Negan and I were used to each other back then. I think he would have known my body a little better.”

“Not to be that person…” Joel grumbled under his breath, his right hand pressing to his hip while he stared down at her with some frustration in his features. “Negan and I both have big dicks. Bigger than normal. So I reckon no matter who you had for your first it woulda hurt. I don’t think it’s fair to think that Negan wouldn’t have hurt because his dick is big too.”

An uncomfortable sound filled the air with Y/N’s face flooding with humiliation. Straightening his posture, Joel felt his heart hammering in his chest knowing that the sound came from behind him. Dropping her head down into her hand, Y/N tried to hide her embarrassment with Joel looking back over his shoulder to see Elizabeth standing at the entry way of the kitchen.

“Ellie…” Joel started, turning on his heel to try to apologize for what his daughter undoubtedly just heard.

“Adding that to the list of things I never wanted to hear in my life,” Elizabeth held her hands up in the air to silence Joel before he could say anything more. Disgust flooded her young features and Joel suddenly felt angry with himself for letting that out. “I’m going to file that away and pretend I never heard that.”

Pacing a bit, Elizabeth considered her next move and could barely look her father in the eyes after walking into their personal conversation, “I was going to come help with dinner, but I think we all could use a few minutes of space. So I’ll give you both ten minutes to finish this conversation while I go take a minute to die on the inside.”

“I am so sorry,” Joel’s thick southern drawl followed with Joel attempting to step forward, but Elizabeth immediately threw her hands up and shook her head. “You should have never heard that.”

“It’s okay. It was my fault for interrupting a conversation I never wanted to hear in the first place,” Elizabeth hushed her father noticing that Joel looked completely mortified that she heard that to begin with. “I’m going to go try to burn that information out of my brain though before I suffer an eternity of disgust from knowing what you just said.”

“I’m sorry Elizabeth,” Y/N apologized to their daughter knowing that it was partly her fault that Elizabeth heard what she did. Instead of responding, Elizabeth stood there for a moment. Gazed at her father, shook her head and then covered her eyes dramatically before walking away. “When the children are awake we need to be careful what we say.”

“I didn’t…” Joel paused looking down, shaking his head in disbelief that his luck was that bad for his daughter to hear. “Should I go say something? Should I…”

“I don’t think so. I think she’s uncomfortable right now and needs some space to let that pass,” Y/N suggested noticing the color that flooded into Joel’s face from the embarrassment finally starting to set in. “No daughter wants to hear about their father’s…”

“Fuck…” Joel scoffed brushing his fingers through his hair in a distressed manner. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“It was a bit blunt for you,” she noted hearing Joel growl under his breath and fall back against the cabinets, bracing himself by his hand on the edge of the counter. Lowering her voice, she folded her arms in front of her chest and huffed. “How do you know about Negan’s…size?”

“We grew up together,” Joel shrugged his shoulders, but the glance she gave him was almost scrutinizing his answer. “You were best friends with him too.”

“I was screwing around with him,” she commented causing Joel to grunt.

“I was on the baseball team with him. We took showers together in the locker room. I know what a lot of the guys looked like naked,” Joel stammered, throwing his hands up in the air frustrated. “It’s not like Negan had a problem walking around naked all the time.”

Snapping his fingers, Joel drew up a memory of when they were younger and shook his head, “That one time all of us went skinny dipping in that lake. Remember? We were all naked around each other. A lot.”

In his rush to explain himself, she raised her hands and motioned him to lower his voice, “Right. I’m sorry. I forgot.”

“You just have a thing for guys with big…” Joel’s voice turned into almost a whisper, “dicks.”

“I don’t have a thing for…” she was overwhelmed by his comment, letting out a laugh and shaking her head. “I liked both of you before I ever saw you naked. Just because you’re both well endowed doesn’t mean that’s the reason I liked you. I blame your smiles. With your fucking dimples, I was a fool for both of you from the start.” 

“Which brings me to my next question. Why didn’t you get with Negan back then? He clearly thought the two of you were dating,” Joel continued on with their previous conversation in a quieter voice and it had her frowning. Disappointment flooded her features and she shrugged.

“Because I’m a bad person,” it seemed like she truly believed that answer and she wasn’t fucking around. “I had someone perfect, but I was so obsessed with you. As you put it. Once you gave me attention? I felt like I was the luckiest girl in the world. You finally saw me. And I hurt the person I loved the most in the world at that time. When I had no one, I had Negan. What I did was wrong. I hurt him. And it all makes sense with how he reacted. I deserved worse.”

“For loving someone else?” Joel countered with a frustrated scowl. “You can’t help who you love. Him being a dick and writing both of us off wasn’t the way to do things.”

“What would you rather him do? Beat the hell out of you and tell me how I broke his heart?” she pushed hearing Joel’s breathing growing louder.

“Yeah. I deserved it,” Joel stammered noticing the way that she was staring up at him with confusion in her eyes. “I was with you two every day for years. I knew how he felt about you. But the way I felt about you and liquid courage trumped that. I could have stayed away from you. But I didn’t. I let my emotions and feelings for you drive me. Negan saw how amazing you were from the beginning. I took longer,” Joel acknowledged seeming to get angry at the idea of Negan. “But you needed him. I needed him and he wrote the both of us off. Treated us like we were trash that you could just throw on the corner of the street. He was our best friend and he abandoned us.”

“And he probably felt abandoned by me,” she reasoned with Joel throwing her hands up in the air. “Once I had you, I couldn’t get enough of you. I didn’t want to be away from you. I could have gone to him, but I was greedy. I was selfish. I was focused on him completely ghosting me. Not once did I think about what I had done to him. I was an ignorant, stupid little girl.”

Anger flooded Joel’s features when he shook his head and went back to getting things going, “But I don’t regret it. I think about the what ifs sometimes. But it gave me our children. I wouldn’t want to change that for the world. I loved my life for a very long time. No matter how poor I was. Or how pathetic I may have been. I loved you. And you loved me. That was enough for me. And I wouldn’t give those moments up.”

The anger that Joel had over Negan was soon replaced with a softening expression followed by confusion. Slumping forward, Joel huffed loudly and cleared his throat, “You make me feel guilty.”

“For what?” she decided to ask while turning away from him while they started their dinner.

“For wanting more,” Joel stammered under his breath, biting down on his bottom lip. “I was so upset that everything I deserved got ripped away from me. Everything I worked so hard for…”

“And I understand why you felt that way,” she replied trying not to get emotional about things. “You were really too young to be making the decisions you were. I understand how what happened could upset anyone in your position.”

“You never once thought about wanting more?” Joel was desperate for some kind of response knowing that he felt like the worst person alive after what he did the other day and having her turn him down. “I know you had big dreams too.”

“Everyone has big dreams,” she suggested hating that they would always go back to this because it just made things more complicated between them. They had a good day and it was now being replaced with emotional conversations about their past. “Life just had a different plan for me. You, Elizabeth, Peter and Tommy were enough for me. I was okay with just being a mom, a wife and working the job that I did. It grew on me and I wouldn’t give up those days for anything.”

“I had to grow up fast,” Joel reasoned with Y/N trying to find the right thing to say, but he knew that it wasn’t coming. “I just had a break where I let my regrets eat away at me and I fucked up. But I think I should point out the depression that I went through. I should have gotten help for it, but instead I ignored it. And I think that’s why what happened…happened.”

Nodding her head, she didn’t know what to say, “We can’t change the past Joel. Like you said, what happened, happened. And in some fashion it was probably meant to happen.”

“You have to know that I love you,” Joel stressed, stepping forward to grab a gentle hold of her arm to get her to look at him. “Y’know that, right?”

“And I love you too,” she sighed, lifting her hand to press it in over his giving it a firm squeeze. “Divorce isn’t going to change that. You were a big part of my life. You’ll always be a big part of my life. I can’t hate you Joel.”

“Hey,” Elizabeth called out from the entrance of the kitchen looking between the two of them. Lowering her hand from Joel’s, Y/N swallowed down hard and went back to cooking. Joel looked sad when he made his way back to the corner of the kitchen to rest there. “Is it safe to come back in and help?”

“It’s safe,” Joel answered for them, his eyes lowered to the ground showing the disappointment he had in everything.

Together the three of them finished with dinner and they all ate together with the children talking about what Negan did for them in taking them to the stadium. Peter dominated the conversation with his excitement allowing Elizabeth to talk about it on occasion. By the expression in his eyes, Joel was jealous. Y/N knew Joel long enough to know that look that he was trying to hide from the children. They both liked Negan and they both thought what he did was incredibly cool.

After dinner, Joel grabbed something from the truck which led to the children starting a snowball fight with Joel. What was supposed to be a quick trip to his truck ended up being a while with him playing with Elizabeth and Peter. Even though their children were older, it was sweet that they could still find fun in spending time with their parents and doing silly things.

Once the sun started to set, she noticed that they were beginning to build a snowman together with the snow that had fallen. Going out to help them, she brought some things to help decorate the snowman and once they were done, they all took a step back to look him over.

“Could be better,” Peter suggested drawing Joel to huff and playfully nudge his son with his hip knocking him into the snow. “Hey big butt!”

“I’m sure the fall in the snow hurt you really bad,” Elizabeth teased her little brother only for him to throw another snowball at her. They both scrambled to grab more snowballs while fighting with each other leaving Y/N and Joel still standing before the snowman.

“I can’t remember the last time we made a snowman together as a family,” she commented, gazing over the snowman with amusement. “The children had to be really small.”

“I think we should make him a partner,” Joel suggested, brushing his gloved fingers through his hair. Sure, they were all cold and it was almost completely dark, but he meant it. “He’s going to be lonely and before he inevitably starts to melt, he should have someone to share those moments with.”

“I thought you were going the romantic route, but then you had to make it depressing,” she noted with a laugh, shrugging her shoulders, starting to work on a base for the next snowman with the snow that she could gather. Joel was helping her and it took a while for the two children to help them, but eventually they got the base together. With the last part for the head, Joel let out a grunt when he lifted it and once he rest it on top, his feet slid out from beneath him from the icy snow which led him to fall to the ground.

“Smooth,” Peter laughed, looking down at his father hearing the groan that came from Joel.

“Let’s go grab some girly stuff to make them match,” Elizabeth tugged her brother toward the house leaving Y/N staring down at Joel who was blinking up at the sky.

“That was smooth,” she sighed, reaching her hand out to help Joel get up to his feet. “You’re going to need some hot chocolate to warm up.”

“We all are,” Joel agreed with her, helping them finish the second snowman. Once they were done, Elizabeth did her best to get a selfie with all of them in it so they could cherish the snowmen that they made together.  Grabbing what he originally came out for, Joel followed them back into the house where they got some hot chocolate and sat together talking about old Christmases together. It was nice reminiscing about things, but ultimately it upset Joel because he knew they were memories that they would never truly have again.

Warming up, it seemed like time went by super fast and before they knew it, it was late into the night. Heading up to the attic, both Y/N and Elizabeth followed Joel to see what he was adding. String lights. Which brought forth a dreamy state to the whole area.

Together with Elizabeth, Joel got them up and the way he wanted. Moving over toward the nook, Y/N took a seat on it and sighed loudly. It looked nice. When they were living here together as a family, this was as close to what she pictured back then. A place to be able to work, relax and find inspiration in her work.

At the corner of the room Joel and Elizabeth were laughing about something with the sound of Peter’s footsteps coming up the ladder, “Whoa. This is actually really cool. Maybe we can come up here sometimes too?”

“Of course you can,” Y/N motioned her son forward, but he held his hand up which drew attention to the fact he brought the baseball that Dale had given them at the stadium.

Laying back against the cushion, Y/N stared up at the starry sky feeling her heart skip a beat. God, she would have loved this when they were younger. It was nice now, but then? It would have been the perfect escape to just relax.

“Dad, check this out. The coach of the team gave both Elizabeth and I these,” Peter threw the case with the ball inside of it in Joel’s face, clinging to it tightly. “Isn’t that super cool?! I’m sure this is worth a ton. Don’t you think?”

“I reckon it is,” Joel agreed with Peter, grabbing the case and eyeing over all the names that were on it. “That was really nice of the man to give you both one of these. You’re really special kids.”

“He’s special alright,” Elizabeth reached out to brush her fingers through Peter’s messy, dark hair drawing him to groan out and playfully push her aside.

Handing the ball back to Peter, Joel pushed his hands into his pockets and sighed loudly. Once his eyes were locked on Y/N, it took his breath away watching her lay like she was staring out dreamily at the night sky over her.

“I was thinking of doing the backyard next when it gets warmer. I remember how we always talked about what we wanted it to look like. I promised I would do that too, but I never…” Joel paused when Y/N turned her head to stare out at him and he shrugged his shoulders. “I never did that either.”

Hearing the sound of a cell phone ringing, Elizabeth gestured them to wait as she made her way down the ladder of the attic. Peter was now standing there alone, holding tightly to the ball, “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna put this in my room.”

“We’ll be here,” Joel threw his hands up in the air. And like that, both children were gone. Swallowing down, Joel noticed that Y/N moved over and pat down on the cushion next to her to have Joel join her. Unhurriedly moving across the attic, Joel laid down beside her and looked up at the stars. Huffing out, he motioned her to wait and got up to turn the lights off except for the string lights he just put up. Making his way back, he laid in beside her and curled his arm around the back of his head to get comfortable. “This is nice.”

“It is,” she agreed with him, enjoying the silence that they had together after all the stress that had been going on lately.

“I should have given this to you sooner. I’m sorry,” Joel once again apologized which she wished he would stop doing. “You were the one thing that gave my life magic other than the children and I should have been filling your life with special things like this all along.”

“Joel,” she turned her head, her eyelashes fluttering at him with the way she smirked. “Stop apologizing for things. It is what it is. Things happened.”

“I can’t just be okay with it. I did a lot of shitty things and you were right,” Joel countered, turning on his side to face her, his hand nervously stretching out to caress in over her side. “I never deserved you to begin with.”

“You were…you are a good man,” she assured him, placing her hand over the center of his chest rubbing a small circle over it. “I was very lucky to be with you when I was younger. You were better than you are giving yourself credit for.”

“Right. I was great. Then I dropped the ball and I’ve been trying to make up for it,” Joel pointed out realizing that it was a little too late. “I uh…I think we are good together Y/N. Not just us, but the four of us. We have fun. We’re a good family.”

“Joel,” her breathing grew louder with the roughness of Joel’s thumb dragging across her bottom lip. Sliding in closer to her had her eyes coming to a tight close and she swallowed down hard. “We’ve always been good parents.”

“It’s more than that,” Joel stated with a frown, pressing in closer to her to pepper faint kisses over her lips. It had her tremoring beneath his touch. “I think you know that deep down, the four of us are meant to be together. We’re good together.”

Each kiss grew in strength, with Joel curling his arm around her stronger to pull her in closer to him on the cushion they were laying on together. Brushing his tongue against hers, the sweetness from their hot chocolate still lingered and it made Joel smile against her flesh.

“You taste sweet,” he hummed against her flesh, crawling in over her. A nervous sound escaped her lips when he lowered himself down to rest himself between her thighs. Starting to kiss her again, Joel took his time with his fingers sweeping along her jawline. It felt like he was mesmerized by her features with him peppering loving kisses against her lips. “You are so beautiful.”

Burying his head against the side of her neck, Joel kissed at the sensitive parts of her body. His palm slid over her side and down over her back to pull her closer to him. Bucking his hips faintly against hers had her whimpering out, her fingers sinking into his dark hair. Tugging softly at it, her eyes slammed shut with him nipping at her chin.

“Stop,” she begged, placing her hand over the center of Joel’s chest to get him to put some distance between them. Everything felt like it was spinning. Heat ran down her spine and her heart was hammering in her chest. “Joel, I love you. I do. But I’m dating Negan. I care about Negan and I…I want to give this whole thing a shot with him.”

“I just…” Joel tried to speak, but she pulled herself into a seated position and buried her head into her hands. “You’re taking it that serious?”

“Yeah,” she was honest with him feeling guilty that she let it get as far as it did in the first place with what just happened between her and Joel. “He’s really good with me. And the kids. I feel happy when I’m around him.”

“It’s not going to last Y/N,” Joel was irritated with what he was hearing, his eyebrows furrowing when he pulled himself up into a seated position beside her. “He’s just here for the holiday and then he’s going to leave. The guy has one season of baseball left. Do you really think he wants to be tied down to someone like you?”

“Someone like me?” she repeated what Joel said, finding herself lost as to where he was going with that.

“You know how celebrities are. You’re a normal person with two children. You’re divorced,” Joel listed off things that he thought Negan wouldn’t want when it came to dating someone. “Spring training starts in February. And I’m sure he’d had to leave before that to be with the team. His life is going to be filled with fan events. Interviews. Photoshoots. The guy right now has been trending on social media forever. He’s famous. And him retiring has just made him more famous. People are going nuts about him. You have what? Three months with him and then he’s just going to leave.”

“Negan isn’t like that,” she suggested to Joel who gave her a glare.

“All rich people are like that,” Joel slurred, bracing his hands on the cushion realizing that he was upsetting her with what he was saying. “Right now, you’re a distraction while he’s home. Something familiar. But when things get busy with his life, you know people are going to hound him about dating a nobody with two teenage children.”

“A nobody,” she stammered, her chest hurting with Joel rambling off what he was saying.

“I don’t…you’re not a nobody. That’s not what I meant,” he threw his hand up finding himself flustered seeing that she was getting upset with what he was saying. “You know what I mean with how people are in the media Y/N.”

“Yeah, I get what you are saying,” she held her hand up almost as a request to get him to stop talking. “I’ve listened to everything you’ve said.”

“I think you’re focusing on the wrong things,” Joel claimed, placing his hand in over the center of his chest. “I love you. Okay? You’re just gonna end up hurt and I don’t want to see that. I don’t. You care what people think about you and I promise you it’s gonna draw up so much shit once people learn that Negan is dating you. About you. About our family…”

“I hear you,” she stopped him before he could continue and she crawled over him to get off the cushion. Pacing in the attic, she shrugged her shoulders and sighed loudly. “I just would still like to give this thing with Negan a chance.”

Hearing footsteps returning, Peter was coming back up and by the look on his face he could tell that there was tension between Joel and Y/N, “You two okay?”

“Yeah. I’m going to get your father a pillow and some blankets,” she offered looking back at Joel. By his dark eyes she knew that he was disappointed with where their conversation ended. “It’s late. Why don’t you spend the night up here so you can enjoy what you’ve done. Get to experience it for yourself.”

“Sure,” Joel frowned, dropping back onto the cushion again looking up at the sky.

“You okay?” Peter moved over to sit down beside his dad at the edge of the nook area with his legs hanging over. Y/N had headed back downstairs to go grab the things that she had offered to Joel.

“I’ll live,” Joel stretched out with a lump growing in his throat.

“You two aren’t ever getting back together, are you?” Peter wondered with a seemingly disappointed expression. Gazing over at Peter, Joel didn’t know what to say. It was a hard question to hear from Peter and he just shrugged. “I guess that’s a stupid question. If you two would have gotten back together it would have been four years ago. Not now.”

“It’s not a stupid question,” Joel stated reaching up and out to squeeze at his son’s shoulder. “Don’t say that.”

“I don’t understand why you two split anyways. We were always so happy when I was younger,” Peter recalled how things were when he was a child. They got separated when Peter was only nine so he was still pretty young. “I thought mom loved you.”

Hearing that had Joel’s eyes coming to a tight close. In the past, Y/N had mentioned how the children blamed her for them separating and Peter saying that just confirmed it, “When she kicked you out of the house I was so angry. I hated her for making you leave. We were a family and I never understood why she took you away from us.”

“She didn’t…she didn’t kick me out of the house,” Joel admitted behind a grimace, his throat tensing up at the thought. “Peter, I left. I’m the one that asked for the divorce. Not her. Your mother begged me to stay and I…didn’t.”

“Why?” Peter’s face twisted with confusion and even though he was used to his son being silly, Joel could see that Peter was actually conflicted with what he just learned. “What did she do?”

“Why do you assume that it was her that did something wrong?” Joel pushed himself up into a seated position.

“Because mom never complained about you. She just cried all the time,” Peter stressed what he remembered from when he was younger. “I mean she tried to pretend she was okay, but I heard her crying when she was alone. I just figured she was upset with something she had done. If it was your fault, wouldn’t she have said something?”

“Your mom is a really good mom,” Joel stressed what he knew to be true. “She never wanted you to hate me or feel negatively toward me. I just had a lapse in judgement and I’m the one that asked for a divorce. Not her.”

“And you regret it?” Peter wondered having Joel inhale loudly and nod. “Does she know you regret it?”

“It’s complicated,” Joel stammered not knowing the right thing to say.

“Hey,” Y/N’s voice drew both of them to look over at her and she held the pillow and the blankets up. Carefully hopping up from where he was laying, Joel cleared his throat and gave her a nod. “You’ll have to let me know what it’s like up here.”

“Will do,” Joel gave her a wink and then went to set up the area for him to get comfortable. Peter was still there sitting on the edge contemplating everything. Stealing a look back over his shoulder, Joel noticed that Y/N was still watching the two of them together. When their eyes locked, Joel sensed that she was sad before moving down the ladder to leave them alone. At this point? Her decision was made and Joel felt like he was just supposed to deal with it.

----

Tonight was sleepless for Y/N. Since she hadn’t called Negan during the day, he showed up at night to check in on her. It was uncomfortable considering Joel was up in the attic sleeping, but it was something that Joel was just going to have to get used to. Having Negan around was going to be a normal thing for them.

Lifting her head from Negan’s chest, Y/N let out an extended breath to look over Negan. Repeatedly the words that Joel had said to her about Negan had run through her mind. How she was just something to keep his interest while he was home. It was hard for her to believe that considering how good he had been with her since he had come to town.

Stroking her fingers over Negan’s abdomen, she lowered her head back against the center of his chest. Listening to his strong heartbeats comforted her. His breathing was loud letting her know that he was still sleeping. Forcing herself to close her eyes, she tried to sleep, yet she couldn’t stop thinking about things. Her mind wouldn’t relax.

Why couldn’t she sleep and just let it go?

“Ain’t he sweet?” a southern drawl caused her eyes to open slowly. Once she saw Joel standing at the door to her bedroom, she felt her throat tensing up with her head lifting from Negan’s chest. “Look at the two of you together.”

“Joel,” she spoke his name feeling uncomfortable that he had made his way down from the attic to come and see them together. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

“Why not? This used to be my home too,” Joel reminded her with a tip of his head, unhurriedly making his way to the corner of the bed to lower down onto it. Looking to Negan, Y/N was surprised to see that he was still sleeping with Joel approaching them. “Shouldn’t I be able to go anywhere I want?”

“Please stop this,” she begged of him, panicked that this was going to lead somewhere bad. “We’ve talked about this extensively Joel.”

“Stop what?” Joel retorted with a snort, leaning further back and bracing his weight on one hand. “I’m just having a conversation with you Y/N.”

“It’s inappropriate considering the situation,” she suggested looking to Negan when his breathing shifted, but he was still sleeping.

“What? You two are fully clothed,” Joel pointed to Negan, throwing his hands up in the air when she exhaled loudly. “For fuck’s sake, he’s sleeping anyways.”

“Can we please just talk in the morning?” she requested, pushing herself up into a fully seated position, doing her best to not wake Negan up with her movement. “I know you have a lot on your mind, but I just want to have a peaceful night, okay?”

“What is it about him?” Joel tipped his head to the side gazing over the sleeping Negan. “You obviously are still in love with me, so what is this? You’re trying to just make me jealous? Punish me for the things that I did?”

“No Joel, that’s not it at all,” she tried to reason with Joel having his face scrunch up in disbelief. “Yes, I love you, but I love Negan too. He’s incredible…”

“To you,” Joel pointed out with a huff. “We both know what Negan is capable of. Things he did. Sure, he acts different now that Lucille has passed away, but we both know the kind of man he is capable of being.”

“Knock it off,” she warned Joel who was obviously trying to start something. “I don’t know what it is about the two of you, but he’s been nothing but good to me and your children. When he didn’t even have to be. So please Joel, just go upstairs and sleep.”

“It always had to be a competition with you,” a deep rumble of a growl stammered from behind her. Looking over her shoulder, Negan’s eyelashes were lazily fluttering to an open. Negan’s voice was tired leaving it sounding raspier than normal. It took a minute to gather himself, but Negan dragged himself into a seated position, pressing his back against the headboard. “Not everything has to be a competition between us Joel.”

“Come on,” Joel scoffed, throwing his hand up dramatically. “When you’re sleeping with my ex-wife when I’m doing my best to get back with her, how couldn’t I?”

“Sleeping with your ex-wife?” Negan repeated, scratching at the side of his face. “We’re doing a little more than sleeping together. You act like I’m only here to get fucked.”

“You’re a man Negan,” Joel retorted, turning to face Negan fully. “You could have had anyone in this town, but it was my wife that you went after.”

“Ex-wife,” she corrected Joel who immediately rolled his eyes at her quickness.

“There is no feud between us here Joel. We were teenagers when everything happened and I’ve grown up,” Negan insisted, letting out a tense breath when he shrugged. “In some ways at least. I just care about Y/N and the things that she wants.”

“Right,” Joel mocked Negan’s tone having Negan snickering in response. “I’m sure that’s the only reason that you are doing this.”

“Listen, buddy…” Negan began, but Joel held his finger up in the air to silence him.

“I’m not your buddy,” Joel snapped at Negan which had Y/N in a panic. Why did this have to happen? With their children in the house, Y/N assumed that Joel would behave, but this was happening.

“You know what the difference between the two of us is?” Negan pointed at his chest and then toward Joel who shook his head dramatically waiting for some kind of answer.

“Can we not do this?” she asked them both, sliding forward in the hopes that they got the hint that she didn’t want the two of them fighting. Especially since both children adored Negan and Joel. Having them fight would just make things way more complicated for them.

“No, this needs to be said,” Negan assured her, sliding his left hand out to cover her knee to give it a supportive squeeze. Adjusting his position on the bed, Negan slid more toward the middle of the bed and it had a breath catching in her throat. “You want her all to yourself and if you can’t have her, you’ll have a shit fit. Me? If she wanted to be with you? I’d accept it.”

“Bullshit,” Joel’s jaw flexed, his angered brown eyes narrowing when his head tipped forward trying to intimidate Negan in some way. “I know that’s not true.”

“It is. I’d be okay with her picking you because I actually want to see her happy,” Negan declared with a firm shake of his head. “Even if she decided that right here, right now she wanted both of us…I’d be okay with it.”

Something switched in Joel’s face, the seriousness of the moment suddenly changing to confusion. Going to speak up, Joel stopped and then let out a tense breath, “Do you mean like a three-way?”

“Why the fuck not? If that’s what she wanted,” Negan muttered with a half-smirk. “If she wanted to be between the both of us? Who am I to say no? Unless you couldn’t handle something like that Joel. Are you too much of an alpha male to be able to share?”

“Share?” she repeated what Negan said, her heart fluttering at the idea. “You’re…you’d be okay with that?”

“Why not?” Negan threw his hands up in the air letting out an amused exhale. “I’m not an asshole. Like I said, the thing that matters the most to me is that you are happy. Joel. Me. Both of us. I’m okay with it.”

Gasping out, she felt the firm grasp of Joel’s fingers pulling on her jaw to get her to turn toward him. Hammering his lips in over hers, Joel’s kiss was determined eliciting an amused rumble from Negan behind her. A gentle tug on her jaw brought her to Negan who captured her lips in a kiss as if trying to prove something to Joel.

“Just like that?” Joel snorted with Negan faintly pulling his lips away from hers. “No jealousy?”

“Not from me,” Negan claimed with a wolfish smile, nipping at her bottom lip to give it a small tug. Chills were flooding her spine with Joel pushing at the material of the t-shirt she was wearing. Revealing her shoulder to him, Joel started pressing heated kisses over her shoulder having her trembling slightly at his touch.

“What is going on?” she placed her hands over both Joel and Negan’s chest to get them to back up. Right now it did feel like they were trying to have some kind of competition between them with her to prove a point. “What are you two doing?”

“He says he doesn’t care, so if he means it why not have both of us?” Joel growled, his thumb sweeping in over her jawline having her whimper. “It’s what you want, right? What you don’t get with me, you get with him and vice versa. So, take advantage of his offer.”

“The children are home,” she reminded both of them wondering if she was the only one that saw this as inappropriate.

“We’ll find ways to keep you quiet,” Negan captured her jaw between his thumb and index finger to bring her to kiss him. With a flick of his tongue over hers, Negan had her purring out against his lips. “So why don’t you just enjoy what it is that you really want.”

Both men were kissing over the sides of her neck having her heart rate skyrocketing with both a nervousness and want for them.

Just then, the sound of a car alarm went off eliciting a gasp from Y/N’s lips when she sat up in her bed. Letting out a tense breath, she realized that it was all a very realistic elaborate dream that her mind conjured up. The bed beside her was empty. She had spoken to Negan before bed, but he hadn’t come over.

Swallowing down hard, she dragged her hands down over the front of her face letting out a tense breath, “I can’t believe I just did that…”

If that car alarm hadn’t gone off, there was no question that she was about to have a sex dream where she was between both Joel and Negan. Reaching for her phone on the nightstand, she looked at the time and felt like the room was spinning around her.

Pulling herself up from the bed after letting her body calm down, she left her room. Taking a look around, the hallways were dark showing that everyone was still asleep. The ladder for the attic was still down which had her mind going to Joel. Moving up the steps of the ladder, she stopped when she reached the top.

Laid stretched out across the nook area of the attic was Joel deep in sleep with Peter laid out over his chest. Their loud breathing told her that they weren’t waking up anytime soon and truthfully? This was a sight that she actually liked. Even after a complicated dream like that, seeing the two of them this way warmed her heart.

Cautiously moving up into the attic, she unplugged the string lights to give them a break. Now the only light that was filtering into the room was from the stars and the moon from the outside. Which meant there wasn’t much light to filter throughout the attic that Joel had just finished for her. Thankfully there was a small light that she always had plugged in for the children when they would walk in the hallway to make sure they wouldn’t get hurt at night.

Stealing one more look at Peter and Joel together, she let out a long exhale. Leaving, she was careful to walk back down the ladder to the second floor back toward her bedroom. Laying back down, she thought about how realistic that dream was. It might have possibly been the most realistic one she ever had.

For some reason, her brain was doing a good job fucking with her lately and she didn’t know how to feel about it.

----

Tags: @chainsawsangel @fancypeacepersona @violent-darkness @negansbestie @elegantfanficluv

@sanctuaryforthelost @dead-of-niight @dilfsandmartinis @jennydehavilland

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nothing Has Changed - 13

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Author Note: So... I wrote the story outline until the ending. I didn't expect the story to turn dark. Prepare yourself.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 💖💖💖

“I had a miserable life when I lived here,” you said, your voice trembling with old resentment.

Bucky’s eyes softened as he listened. He took a step closer, his shoulders slumping. “You’re hurting. I get it.”

He touched his chest, his fingers pressing against the fabric as if trying to reach his heart. “But… it’s not only you.” His voice broke slightly, and he looked down, struggling to maintain composure. “Me too.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his movements agitated. “That’s why I’m doing this,” he continued, his voice low and earnest. “I’m trying to fix all the pain we both caused.” He looked into your eyes, his expression pleading. “I need to make things right.”

You watched him, torn between your anger and the vulnerability he displayed. His words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, both of you stood silently, understanding shared suffering.

Flashback Start

Growing up, Bucky never felt the warmth of a real family. His father, Alex, was distant, never saying a word to him, never laughing, never making silly jokes, or even getting angry. It was as if Bucky didn’t even exist in his father’s eyes.

Lydia was always the one to initiate conversations at home, but Alex only responded with monosyllables: ‘Yes,’ ‘No,’ and ‘Just go by yourself.’ He rarely stayed home, often spending his nights at the construction office.

The only time Alex seemed to notice Bucky was when he got hurt. Bucky vividly remembered the first time he felt his father’s care was when he fell from the playground. That moment stood out, making Bucky believe that, perhaps, his father still cared for him. But Lydia noticed it too.

From then on, Lydia started orchestrating accidents to make Bucky get hurt just to garner Alex's attention, trying to fabricate a close-knit family facade. For a while, Bucky didn’t find it strange because he finally received attention from both his parents. Then one day, he fell down the stairs, even though he was sure he had been careful.

While he was resting, Bucky overheard a heated argument between his parents. Alex’s voice echoed through the house, filled with anger and frustration. “You’re an insane woman, hurting your own kid?” he yelled.

Bucky’s nanny had witnessed the incident. She saw Lydia push Bucky down the stairs, and the look on Lydia’s face had been terrifying, like a devil’s. When Alex came home, the nanny told him everything. The truth about Lydia’s actions deepened Alex’s hatred towards his estranged wife.

When Bucky got sick, his father never visited him. Weak and confused, Bucky asked Lydia, “Mom, why doesn’t my father like me?”

Lydia hugged him tightly. “Sweetie, your father loves us, but he’s like this because of that woman.”

“That woman?” Bucky asked, not understanding what his mother meant.

He started to learn the truth when he overheard his father one day. “Why is she suddenly sick? Send her to the city,” Alex said, his voice stressed and weary. He threw himself into a chair, mentioning another woman’s name—someone who wasn’t Lydia.

Bucky didn’t fully grasp the situation, but he noticed his father coming home even later than before. One day, he heard his father scream when that woman died. Alex drowned his sorrows in alcohol, becoming a shadow of himself.

Young Bucky, filled with confusion and pain, found it easy to blame someone else for his father’s misery. His resentment grew until one day, tragedy struck again. Alex died in a car accident.

At the funeral, guests offered their condolences to Lydia, but no one paid much attention to Bucky. Even if they did, he didn’t understand the meaning of death. So, he waited outside and saw a thin, ghostly man from a Christmas movie—it was Tom. With him was a little girl peeking from a window near the funeral home.

Lydia suddenly appeared beside Bucky. “You see that man and the girl?”

Bucky nodded.

“That’s the husband and daughter of the woman who made your father hate us,” Lydia said, her voice dripping with bitterness.

Bucky clenched his fists, his young heart filling with hatred. From that day, he despised you. He noticed you weren’t close with Tom but didn’t seek his attention like Bucky did with Alex.

Bucky started bullying you, finding a twisted sense of superiority. His friends joined in, making it worse. For a kid, it felt powerful to look down on someone.

When you left with Ransom, Bucky felt an unexpected emptiness. He thought you would realize Ransom was a jerk and come back, but you didn’t. He began to wonder why he missed you.

Was it because he lost his scapegoat, or was it guilt? The guilt of making you leave town gnawed at him.

One day, he learned that Lydia had lied. All her stories were lies. Your mother had never done anything to Alex. It was just that his father still loved her. The weight of guilt and the sins he committed against you ate him alive. He couldn’t sleep or eat and eventually sought therapy.

Bucky’s voice trembled with a mix of anger and hurt as he confronted his mother. “Why did you do that? Why did you lie about everything?”

Lydia’s face twisted with a blend of defiance and bitterness. “Because I’m the victim in this loveless marriage. You have no right to be mad at me.”

Bucky’s frustration erupted. “I’m allowed to be angry! You made me believe your lies, and because of that, I made someone’s life miserable.”

Lydia’s slap was sudden and sharp, stinging Bucky’s cheek. He recoiled, his face burning with pain both physical and emotional. His eyes widened in shock, his expression a mix of disbelief and deep hurt.

“I gave everything to your father!” Lydia’s voice was a mix of anger and desperation. “My family business, my money. But that man only had eyes and a heart for that woman. To him, I was less than a bug.”

Bucky’s fists clenched at his sides, his shoulders shaking with the effort to control his rage. “So you still don’t feel guilty for lying to me?”

Lydia’s eyes were wild, her face streaked with tears. “Why? Why should I feel guilty?” she screamed, her voice cracking under the weight of her own grief. “I sacrificed everything for that ungrateful man!”

“Because I’m your son!” Bucky shouted back, his voice breaking. “You gave birth to me! You should feel ashamed for using me as a pawn in your twisted games.”

Lydia’s face contorted with a mix of pain and anger. She grabbed at her own hair, her body trembling as she cried. “Are you ashamed to have me as your mother? You have everything—status, money! That’s why you were the popular kid at school. Everyone envied you!”

Bucky’s eyes flashed with a mix of fury and sadness. “You think that’s a justification? You think all your lies and manipulations are okay because I had status and money? You don’t understand the damage you’ve caused!”

Lydia’s sobs grew louder, her body slumped as if the weight of her own actions was finally crashing down on her. She looked at Bucky with a broken expression, her tears mingling with the anger still in her eyes.

Bucky turned away, his own tears threatening to spill. The air between them was thick with unresolved pain and regret. He felt the crushing weight of their fractured relationship, knowing that no amount of words could undo the damage that had been done.

He had made your life hell for something you didn’t do. The realization tormented him.

After graduating and returning to town, Bucky decided to make a difference. The first thing he wanted to do was apologize to you. But when he visited Tom, you never came home. He saw how Tom lived and the state of the funeral home and decided to help. He also planned to build a new hospital in town because the lack of medical facilities had contributed to your mother���s misdiagnosis.

Then, out of nowhere, you came back.

Flashback End

“High price to pay for what you did,” you said, your voice cold and steady.

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly, pain flickering across his face. “I know. I deserve every bit of it.”

You paused, taking a deep breath. “But one thing I appreciate is that you realize your own fault.” Your tone softened slightly, but your eyes remained guarded.

Bucky’s face brightened at your words, hope lighting up his expression. “Well… I even sent my mom to the police for you,” he said, a touch of pride in his voice.

You nodded slowly. “That’s the most extreme act to prove yourself.”

Just then, Tom appeared at the doorway. His eyes flickered with concern as he took in Bucky’s disheveled appearance. “Bucky? I heard about Lydia. Is it true?”

Bucky nodded, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Yeah, it’s true. She’s in police custody now."

Tom sighed deeply, glancing between you and Bucky. “Why don’t you come inside, Bucky? Let’s talk about this. There’s a lot we need to discuss.”

Bucky looked at you, silently seeking your approval. You gave a small nod, and he followed Tom into the house.

🛒🛒🛒🛒

The next day, you went to the grocery store to buy some essentials. As you were browsing the aisles, you spotted Steve looking at a shelf of canned goods.

“Hey, Steve,” you greeted, your voice casual.

He turned, a smile spreading across his face. “Hey! I’m going to the city next week to meet the gallery owner.”

“That’s great,” you replied, genuinely happy for him.

Steve’s smile widened. “I won’t forget your help.”

You shrugged your shoulders, a hint of a smile on your lips. “I still don’t care.”

Steve chuckled, noticing the smile. He nudged your shoulder playfully. “Sure you don’t.”

“Hey guys. Fancy meeting you here.”

Both of you turned around to see Bucky approaching, his expression a mix of surprise and hesitation.

“Oh, hi,” Steve greeted him, his tone polite but lacking warmth. The air between them was thick with an unspoken tension, the remnants of a once-close friendship now strained.

Bucky’s eyes darted between the two of you. “What are you guys up to?”

Steve cleared his throat. “I was just thanking her. Because of her, I got an offer to work in an art gallery.”

Bucky’s face fell slightly. “You’re gonna leave?” His voice grew quiet. “Wow. Congrats, buddy.”

The awkwardness between them was palpable. You could feel the tension building, and it was too much to bear. You decided to continue shopping, hoping to escape the uncomfortable atmosphere. “I’m going to keep shopping. See you around, Steve.”

Steve nodded, a small, grateful smile on his face.

Bucky saw this as his cue. “Let me help you. Besides, I’m going to help Tom later.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t object. “Fine.” Turning to Steve, you said, “See you.”

Steve nodded again, giving you a supportive smile.

Bucky quickly followed you, calling over his shoulder, “Let’s meet up later, buddy.” He didn’t wait for Steve’s answer, his focus solely on catching up with you.

Steve watched the two of you walk away, a somber expression on his face. “It’s better if we don’t,” he murmured to himself, the weight of past conflicts evident in his tone.

Join the tag list? 🩷💙🩷

@bagoffeelings

@darkofimagination

@starsofcloud

@cherrybubblebullet

@winterslove1917

@thezombieprostitute

@namoreno

@sagebarness

@tenaciousathleteoperatorgarden

@unaxv

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@hopeful-daydreaming

@freshlemontea

@eat-limes-bitches

@kandis-mom

@scott-loki-barnes

@winters1917

@differenttyphoonwerewolf

@arunabraganza

@ordelixx

@esposadomd

@sapphirebarnes

@cjand10

@bellabarnes1378

@thetravelingtyper

@buckitostan

@mostlymarvelgirl

@5upersoldiers1xt

@jjanereid

@cakesandtom

@queen2234

@learisa

@springsheep

@mrsstuckyboo

@read-just-cant

@loki-laufeyson68

@anixerz

@ghalouha

@jeremyrennermakesmesmile

@emerald-writes

@mcira

@barnesxstan

@bxtchboy69

@lokislady82

@mrsnikstan

@calwitch

@thedonswife13

@calwitch

@otterlycanadian

@bonkybarnes106

Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[devilfic]

❝right place, right time❞

XI. I only have eyes for you.

parts: previously plot: it's the day of the bachelor auction. who's taking bruce home? pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: 18+ toward the end (MDNI), surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, brief violence, sexual content (implied penetration, light dry humping), alcohol consumption, reader is going through it so i personally think they're allowed to be a bit messy, vicki vale slander... a little bit, gcpd slander a lot a bit. words: 8.8k. a/n: it has been a HOT minute and I totally meant to have this out in time for thanksgiving but alas. big girl has big girl responsibilities. regardless, I wanted to say thank you sm for 3k followers!!! ahhh!!! that's so many. love u all

“…Judge Mathers thankfully suffered only minor injuries, and while the culprit has yet to be apprehended, police say they’re confident the investigation will progress in the coming days. Further investigation into just how Mathers was attacked is also ongoing. In other news, Bridge Industries stock has fallen…”

The door to your office swings open, startling you, but Emily is rushing in with arms too full to notice. She shuts the door just as quickly as she’d thrown it open, and as you put the TV on mute, she begins to rattle off frantically, “Are you as excited for tonight as I am?”

If by excited, she meant “stomach turning in knots”, then she’d be right on the money. You ignore her question to point at the plastic bags draping over her arms, “What’s that?”

“With your help? My outfit for tonight.” You watch her gather them both by their hangers and unzip them, revealing two dresses in sparkly red and silky navy. The lighting in your office really fails to do them justice. “What’s Bruce’s favorite color?”

There is—unequivocally—only one answer. “Black.” Her eyelids droop at that, holding the red dress to her chest forlornly, and you rush to amend the situation. “I mean… but who really cares?”

That was not what you meant to say.

What you’d meant to say was that Bruce’s favorite color didn’t matter because Emily ought to dress for herself, and that you didn’t even have the marbles to think about any of this when the news had so thoroughly soured your mood.

Said mood was already fragile by the time you’d had your morning coffee, and in between paperwork and your own thoughts, you’d turned on WGOT for background chatter. It had been just your luck that the very first thing you’d seen was a report on the attempted murder of a local judge. As a Gotham native, these kinds of things don’t easily faze you, but the name had.

Her face had meant nothing to you when it appeared on screen, stern and clear, and her name would’ve meant just as much had you not been poring over Dimitri’s case recently. You never attended Dimitri’s trial, had heard only what Russo and co. had relayed to you, so you’d never had the chance to meet Judge Lydia Mathers or watch as she ruled on the fate of the arrested Vipers. The police weren’t saying who did it, but you knew what was left unsaid. It could be no coincidence.

What threw you for a loop was how it happened. There was no confirmation on the where, and the when being “sometime last night” didn’t narrow anything down. It was sloppy still—that much was evident, she was still alive—but it was also close. Way too close.

As far as you knew, anyone involved in your case that was still in Gotham had been informed beforehand of the threat, and she had the bodyguards to rival your own. How did someone doped up on venom get close enough to almost kill her?

You feel your desk vibrate as you receive a text, your heart speeding up, but you only get a quick glimpse before Emily draws you back in again. “I care. Look, I get that this is your life now and all of this utterly bores you, but this is fun for me. I want to enjoy this, and I want to look good doing it. Just… indulge me, okay? And don’t make fun of me for it.”

The twinge of sadness in her voice makes you wince. It wasn’t Emily’s fault you’d been having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day since the night of Bruce’s party. It also wasn’t her fault that you had yet to be honest about why you really had cops and guards on your tail now, why you couldn’t meet at yours for drinks after work, and it certainly wasn’t her fault that you’d told her the night Dimitri attacked you, you'd actually been targeted by the gang of the guy who took you hostage all those weeks ago. As far as she knew, Mr. Wayne was just taking very, very good care of you.

You’d invited her to this auction to have a fun night out, something you hadn’t had in a while, and if you had to gather some marbles to make it so, you’d do it.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Emily. That came out wrong. I just meant that it shouldn’t matter what he likes because you’re going to look amazing in anything. And if Bruce has eyes, he’ll love how you look in the red.”

She doesn’t look quite as convinced. You see her look over the dress, scrutinizing.

You circle your desk, taking the dresses from her and setting them over the back of a chair. “How about this? I take a picture of both dresses, send them to Bruce, and ask which one he likes more. Won’t even mention you.”

Her eyes widen like saucers. “No! No. Don’t. It’s fine, you’re right. I’ll wear what I want, and I’ll look great in it.” You reach up to pinch Emily’s cheek and she bats at you with a laugh, ducking away to steal her dresses back. “What are you gonna wear?”

“Probably what I wore to our New Year’s party last year.”

“Saucy. You’re picking me up at eight, right?”

“Our ride will be courtesy of Mr. Wayne.”

“Must be nice having a driver and an entourage. Bruce is awfully generous for a patient.”

You think about the paperwork you’d been slogging through before you’d turned on the news, and you don’t have the heart to tell her that by the end of today, Bruce would no longer be your patient anymore.

You wave her goodbye, and when the door shuts behind her, you snatch up your phone to read the message you’d received.

Detective Gordon Can we talk?

Your shoulders slump. You'd hoped it was Bruce. You hadn't heard from him since last night, and after the news, you'd expected... well... anything. Really.

“I saw the news,” You start before James has even breathed a greeting into the phone. “I’m just glad she survived.”

There’s a pause on the other end. It’s long enough that your blood pressure spikes in response, and you assume the worst. “I… actually didn’t call to talk about Mathers. Have you been to your apartment recently?”

“What? No. What happened?”

“There’s been a break-in.”

It’s not the senseless destruction you’d been dreading. Your apartment had looked worse back in residency during finals week. You’d expected overturned couches and pictures knocked off walls, but if it hadn’t been for your very well-documented alibi, no one would’ve guessed there’d been a break-in.

It is clear, however—from the drawers thrown open about your apartment—that someone had been looking for something.

“So, again: the noise started around eleven this morning, and Ms. Fletcher says she came up to check on you since she wasn’t expecting you back without stopping by first-“

“And I was right.” Judith affirms from beside you, clutching her purse with conviction.

The cop who’d been debriefing you narrows his eyes, but otherwise doesn’t comment on the interruption. “Right. So Ms. Fletcher came to investigate. Knocked on the door, nobody answered. She used her copy of your key to get in, looked around and noticed things didn’t look right, called your name, and then saw someone rush past her out of the apartment before she could get a good look at their face. Mr. Fitz next door says he heard someone throwing open cabinet doors just before Ms. Fletcher says she arrived.”

You gnaw the inside of your cheek, eyes flitting over the mugs you’d left drying by the sink. They’re untouched, but the dish towels in the drawer beneath them have been rifled through to hell. “Yeah, the walls are thin in the bathroom. I’m always careful about that.”

“I know Ms. Fletcher said she didn’t see ‘em take anything, but it could’ve been something small. Something they could fit in their pocket or the bag they were carrying. Jewelry, cash, sensitive documents maybe.”

Dimitri didn’t give a shit about any of that, and he sure as hell wouldn’t have left a witness alive if he could help it. If anyone could even possibly identify him, let alone a little old lady, Judith wouldn’t be standing next to you today.

But that left you with more baffling culprits to consider.

You turn to Judith, "Did they look like they were part of any gang?”

Judith shakes her head. She reaches into her purse and pulls out her memo pad, showing you her neat recollection of the intruder. She’d made a marked list: young, wearing a shoulder bag, with nothing in their hands. Short, dark hair. Skinny build. Nervous. The description didn’t exactly strike you as someone looking to hurt you.

Your ears perk up at the conversation behind you, both members of your detail chatting with each other in hushed voices. They don’t do a good job of hiding what they’re saying, and as you listen in, you hear one of them complain about this being a “waste of time”.

You bristle. You catch the cop’s eye, recognizing him as one of the cops working your detail at the hospital the other day, and he turns to survey your living room instead.

James is sidling up to you in the next second, having done his own assessment of the place before you’d arrived. “Your bookshelves got a little rearranging, but nothing destroyed. You wanna take a look?”

You follow the detective through your apartment, poking through everywhere you’d left something even vaguely important, but all the valuables you hadn’t taken to Wayne Tower seemed to be perfectly intact here. You were more miffed about your underwear being strewn about now that that was clear. When you reach your bedroom, the one place void of any cops, you grab some of them off the floor and begin to fold them back into the drawer.

“Could it have been a… I don’t know, a pervert? Could’ve been looking to steal a pair of these.”

“Perverts know where to look. They wouldn’t ransack every drawer just for a pair of underwear.” James’ brow twitches. “At least we know it's not Dimitri. He'd have come here himself. But this? Whatever our guy was looking for, they knew you wouldn’t leave it in plain sight. It’s just… sloppy.”

You scratch your head, hoping some clue would reveal itself the longer you looked. A muddy footprint, a bloody knife, a syringe. Something. It was relieving not to see the last one, at least.

You glance around your room, at the drawers thrown open. You think about the front door (locked, Judith had to use her key) and how, if you didn’t want anyone to know what you were doing, you wouldn’t force your way in. You’d be quiet, pick a lock, put everything back where you found it. But if you couldn’t find what you were looking for, you'd be desperate. You'd make mistakes.

You feel James watch you from where you’re crouched on the ground, tucking away the last of your clothes into the drawer. You notice him knocking his pen repeatedly against his kneecap. “So, Mathers.”

You glance up at James. “It was him, wasn’t it?” James nods, solemn. “Where did it even happen? There’s no way he could’ve gotten into Bristol—let alone a guarded mansion—without getting caught.”

“She wasn’t in Bristol.”

“So, what? The courthouse? Her office?” You slam your drawer shut, drawing attention from the cops outside your bedroom door.

James notices. He turns and shuts the door, sealing you off from the rest of the apartment, and comes to take a seat on the edge of your unmade bed. There’s a severity to him all of a sudden. “It happened at the Iceberg Lounge.”

You’d heard things about the Iceberg Lounge. Loud, dark, dirty. As exclusive as any other shitty nightclub in Gotham. Somewhere a guy like Dimitri could slip into easily if he wasn't mid-high. “He’s attacking in broad daylight now? Then he… he doesn’t care if he’s caught. He’s losing it. He’s-“

“It wasn’t broad daylight, either. The lounge is one thing but there’s another layer to it, a club beneath the club for people like… like Gil Colson. 44 Below. It’s high-profile, hard to get into, a safe place to do dirty business. It’s where he found Mathers.”

Your mind reels. You remembered Gil Colson. You found him quite hard to forget. “He found her there? How?”

“Impersonated a waiter, maybe. Could've known someone who could get him in. All we know is that he couldn’t have been on venom at the time. He would've been tweakin', there’s no way he could’ve gotten in without someone noticing and those exclusive type joints don't really like the look of venom. He planned this out.”

“…Why was she there?”

James glances at your closed door, as if worried someone might be pressed up against it, listening. “I can't say much yet, but if we're right, Dimitri's only one of many kids like him who've been screwed over by Mathers.”

“We, meaning…” You trail off, and James nods once. “He wasn’t- I haven’t heard from him since last night.”

“Knowing him, he's probably looking into it right now.” James rises to his feet, then holds a hand out to help you up. “Until then, don’t go anywhere alone. This is heat Dimitri wasn't prepared for, which either means he’ll hide like before or he’ll be desperate to finish the job. And please, for the love of God, don’t talk to any more press.”

Your eyes flick up to James’ as soon as “press” slips from his lips.

You shoot up from the ground, rushing back into the living room where Judith’s reprimanding the cops from earlier. The second you breeze past her, she spins, reaching for your arm. “There you are. Where’s Mr. Gordon? These young men were complaining about—”

You know what they were complaining about. You almost—almost—unleash the mounting anger inside you onto the both of them, but that would be a waste. “They can stay here for all I care. I need to go.”

Both cops look about ready to protest, but Judith beats them to it. “Go where? What if whoever did this is waiting for you? What if they try to hurt you? What if-“

“She can try. I’m sure someone will get it on camera.”

Your detail doesn’t abandon you like you hoped, but they can barely keep up as you barrel through the doors of the Gazette, nearly mowing down an intern on the way inside.

There are rows of desks on either side of the newsroom, lined up against each other with computer screens illuminating the faces of tens of reporters. You scan each row, each wired and restless face, in the hopes of catching sight of Vicki Vale.

You’re about halfway through the room when someone catches you by the arm, barring you further entry.

She’s small, but her razor-sharp stare is enough to freeze you in your tracks. For now. “Can I help you?” She asks, looking you up and down, a swirl of curiosity laced within the stiffness of her tone. Her badge hangs against her chest, and you see the word "editor" printed beneath her name. Perhaps she wanted to know what story you were about to tell.

“I’m looking for Vicki Vale.”

She isn’t dumb. The way she straightens at Vicki’s name, the disdainful way you say it, means you've told her everything she needs to know about you. You feel her grip tighten around your upper arm and you know she’s going to make this difficult. “Is she expecting you?”

“It’d be stupid of her not to.”

You don’t think she knows. Her nose crinkles at that, and when she feels you begin to resist her, she scrambles to keep you in place, “Vicki’s busy—“

You don’t need to hear the rest of what she has to say, knocking into her shoulder as you shove past her. If Vicki was busy, you’d free up her schedule.

You turn a corner and there’s a long hallway of offices on either side of you. You begin reading each door’s placard for her name, your patience thinning as the bustle of keyboard clacks and voices crescendo. You almost don’t pick up on her voice at first, a shrill and nervous thing through the crack of a door to your left. You shove it open before you give it a second thought.

And there is Vicki, a once-neat bun falling apart as she levels that same French-tipped fingernail at a stranger on the other side of her desk. They both turn to you in shock.

You don’t immediately notice it, seeing only red with Vicki, but you take in the stranger’s dark buzzed hair, slim cheeks, and… messenger bag. There’s a lanyard hanging from their neck with a smiling badge just like the one Vicki flashed you the other day. Their name is… something. You’re too furious to read it.

You beeline for Vicki’s neck.

She sputters when you take hold of the collar of her suit jacket, shoving her up against the wall where her journalism degree sways on the nail, threatening to slip and shatter against the floor. You hold her there. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

Her lips part, pleas and excuses pathetically falling flat at your feet. You’ve never seen her scared, and something buried deep inside you preens for just a second. She tries to stutter something out, but it’s nothing discernible, nothing proper.

The stranger—who you’re certain now is her intern—grabs at your arm to pull you away, but you shove them off, holding Vicki steady. You hear the editor from before too, shouting something from the door to the office. You shake Vicki again, “You’ll do anything for a story, right? Including breaking into my home?”

“It’s not—” Vicki gasps, grasping at your hand. “I didn’t!”

“She didn’t, it was me! It was my idea!” The intern tugs on you again. “I swear, she… Ms. Vale told me to look into you but she never told me to go that far, it was all my idea. Please.”

Through your anger, you inspect the kid’s face and... yeah, to your utter despair, you feel certain they’re telling the truth.

They look more beaten up about it than you expected. It saps nearly all the rage right out of you, leaving you deflated but still boiling under the skin. Your hands slacken and Vicki inches off the wall a little bit, freezing when your eyes cut to her, and she holds her own hands up in surrender. “I was… I was just telling the kid off when you came in. Honest.”

After a few moments of catching your breath, you motion to the intern’s bag. “You didn’t steal anything off me, did you?”

“No,” they stutter, “no, I wasn’t… I just wanted to see if there was something… a lead to go off of. And then the old lady saw me, so I bolted.”

Vicki huffs. “I don’t know where he got the idea, but it wasn’t from me. I have more integrity than that.”

The woman at the door watches on with rage almost comparable to yours, and you wonder if Vicki is actually telling the truth or saving face. You spin to face Vicki again and she winces. “I’d think about what kind of example I'm setting if the kid thought this was even remotely okay. Don’t come near me again unless you want me to really knock some sense into you.”

You release her, and it takes a little more composure than you thought not to send her reeling into the file cabinet next to you.

One of your detail is hovering outside of her office when you come out, barely meeting your eyes as you make your way back out into the newsroom. He follows dutifully to the door, stretching to hold it open for you as you stomp out into the street.

Bruce’s guard is waiting by his car when you approach, going to open the door for you, and as you go to duck inside, the cop sidles up to you with a wobbly smile. “Didn’t know you had it in you, doc.” He jests.

You’ve got one foot in the car, one hand on the roof, and you really can’t help it when you look him in the face and spit out: “Fuck you.”

“Jesus. What is your life these days?”

The horrified look Emily gives you affirms your decision to pregame in the car, taking a swig from her flask on the way to the venue. “This isn’t even the worst thing to happen to me this week.”

It comes out before you have a chance to stop it, and the way Emily perks up makes your heart stop. After the night you were attacked by Dimitri, you had been extra careful about what you tell her. You wished you could say it wasn’t because you didn’t trust her with your past, but every time Alex’s name sat heavy on the tip of your tongue, you could not bring yourself to confess.

From the day those records had been sealed, you had done your best not to talk about it. Your past was always glazed over with vague stories of teenage-typical rebellion, Alex’s life omitted from your own as if you hadn’t seen it snuffed out right in front of you. It was easier that way, you figured. You promised you would never go back to that life, and you couldn’t if it never existed.

But like all wounds left untreated, the infection spread and spread beneath the surface until you could ignore it no longer. Until Dimitri came along to force it back open.

You hadn’t confided in anyone like you did Bruce. Bruce, who you still hadn’t heard from all day.

“Did something else happen?”

Your thumb strokes the polished steel of her flask and, after a few seconds of deliberating, you respond. “Bruce fired me today.”

Her eyes widen. “You’re shitting me. Today? When?”

You take another swig, sinking back into the leather seat. “This morning. I signed the papers first thing.”

"That's crazy. You’re an amazing doctor. And you both got along so well! Why—“ Emily frowns, cutting herself off.

“It wasn’t anything personal. After I was attacked again by that gang and Vicki found me out, we both thought he should find a more… exclusive doctor. For his own privacy and safety.” The lies come easy, and you’re drinking down the bitter feeling until the flask starts feeling light. “He’s letting me borrow his guards until they catch the guy who attacked me the other night, at least."

Emily watches you from the corner of your eye and you get the feeling she has something she wants to ask, but she settles on an impressed whistle. “Wow. He’s… really generous. How is he still single? He's gotta be a playboy, be honest.”

Should you even tell her he wouldn't be single after tonight? You remember Bruce's promise to introduce you as his date, and your stomach flips. You glance at her. “Answering that could technically be a HIPAA violation, so...”

She slaps your shoulder, but the way she tucks her face into her hair tells you everything you need to know.

Bruce is... nowhere to be seen.

You try not to make it seem like you’re looking for him, but after networking for a half-hour, your stomach turns at every black suit that squeezes by. You’d even gotten desperate enough to message the… Bat-Phone?—You hadn’t asked if that was what he wanted you to call it—but there was no response. It didn’t help that you’d spotted Vicki Vale five minutes ago, skulking through the crowd but keeping a wide berth from you. You supposed it was the singular mercy she could grant you. Her intern was, unsurprisingly, not in tow.

When you did introduce yourself, you introduced yourself as you—the general surgeon, a representative on behalf of Gotham General—and kept whatever small talk you could about Bruce to a minimum. Batman, however…

“Honest to God, I don’t know what else it’ll take. Does he need to stop a bus of orphans from driving off a bridge? All anyone has to say these days is that if he were any good, the city would be safer by now. Rome wasn't built in a day!” Your opinionated companion is the mother of one of the bachelors tonight. She’d proudly declared her son the most eligible: a 6’1 firefighter who’d worked his way out of Crown Point and had graced the GCFD’s firefighter calendar as Mr. December four years in a row. She even had pictures to show you, painstakingly scrolling through her smartphone that looked like she’d just pulled it out of the box.

She’d taken up the seat next to you after drinks were served, and had no intention of moving any time soon.

“People are fed up,” you reply, watching guests laugh and take photos with Mr. December by the open stage, “after that Riddler guy flooded the city, it was like a wake up call. People realize they have to rely on a stranger to keep them safe. Not the GCPD. Just someone who cares.”

Felicia—that was her name, and it took a great deal to remember it after she’d thrown it at you so haphazardly—rolls her eyes. “Well I, for one, am glad someone cares. If they didn't, you wouldn't be here and neither would I.” Her hand closes around yours and you feel a disgusting ache. It's the same ache you feel when Judith fusses over you: affection that was freely given.

The auction eventually starts, and while you try not to make a habit of it, you begin checking both phones under the table every so often for something. At one point, Emily accuses you of checking up on a partner she doesn't know about. That gets you to keep your hands to yourself for the first half of the night.

It's at least to your relief that Mr. December lives up to the hype.

He’s charming and cuddly, a real mama’s boy, and the bids go flying without further ado. He goes for a nice sum to a handsome man in a velvet suit, and Felicia leaves when they do.

The next few bachelors go by with varying levels of excitement, but with each bid, you feel yourself getting antsier. You sneak a peek at both phones again, but there’s still no response.

You start to expect him not to show up all, or to have called in an understudy to fill in for him while he scaled rooftops. You’d kill him if he left you hanging after all this, after he insisted you come. After he told you he’d introduce you as his real date. After he expedited that contract termination to the literal day of—

“You okay? You keep shaking your leg.”

Emily’s voice brings you back to. Your eyes had been burning holes into Dr. Dreamy in the lab coat, but you hadn’t processed anything about him in your frustration. You still your legs, trying not to flush with embarrassment, “Yeah, sorry. It’s just been a long day.”

Her brows pinch. “Is... whoever you're waiting to hear from being a problem? Do we need to head outside for a breather?”

“And miss your shot at Bruce? No way.”

The worry in her eyes doesn’t go away, but you don’t miss the little bit of relief she lets slip through.

Dr. Dreamy comes and goes, and it's getting closer to the end of the night with no sign of Bruce. The others at your table theorize they might be saving him for last. You check your phone every minute now, the incessant nagging at the back of your mind growing more prominent as the hour stretches on. You start to wonder if he's scaling those rooftops at all, or if he's bleeding out in an alleyway with no one to care. Perhaps he had been for hours, wilting away in silence, while you sat in this silly outfit at this silly auction waiting for him to show.

Minutes drag. The fifth bachelor takes the stage. Bids are placed. The fifth bachelor goes off with a pair of friends.

The auctioneer takes to the mic, and Bruce's name sets off a ringing in your ears. There's excited applause. Emily hoots and hollers. You hold your breath waiting for him to come out, to just put your nervous thoughts to rest.

You wait. And wait. And wait.

The smile on the auctioneer's face slips some. He looks off to stage left, mouthing something to someone behind the curtain. Applause turns to murmurs, and the jazz band that'd been playing low in the background picks up the volume. You look down at your phone one last time, at the messages left unanswered. The auctioneer laughs into the mic, "Sorry about that, folks. It seems our sixth bachelor is running a little late—"

You slip out of your seat, rushing down the aisle between rows of confused guests, the flip phone nearly crushed in your iron grip as you begin to dial the only number it knows.

You make it to the double doors at the back of the convention hall, both ushers on either side of the exit moving to open them for you, and as the phone begins to ring against your ear (heart thumping in tandem), that's when you hear it.

The audience is so loud that you can't hear the ringing or the thumping anymore. The auctioneer's voice just barely peaks over the raucous jazz band. You turn, one foot across the threshold, and see him center stage.

You almost want him to look pitiful. You want his hair to be drenched from the rain, suit askew, bloody knuckles and coal still clinging to his eyelashes: the very image of late and sorry and embarrassed for making you wait for him. But he's not. He's breathless, sure, but he looks less like he missed his train and more like he'd been having a few at the open bar. His suit is crisp, his hair neatly slick with one strand delicately—stylishly, infuriatingly—dipping into his eye. He smiles in apology at the crowd and his docility is not like the kind he displayed at the mayor's party, insincere as it had been.

And it overwhelms you that you feel, above the frustration… relieved.

You realize your phone is still ringing and the ushers are waiting for you to make a decision, so you end the call and head back to your seat where Emily immediately pounces on you. "Is everything okay? You almost missed him."

You tuck the flip phone away and put on a smile.

"And that, gentlepeople, is what we call being fashionably late." The auctioneer gets a round of laughter out of the crowd for that one. Even Bruce chuckles good-naturedly. "I almost had to step in for you myself, Bruce!"

"You are quite the catch." The crowd laughs harder, flattering him, already enraptured in his spell. You seek out his hands but he keeps them tucked politely behind his back.

"Oh, I disagree. No offense to our other fabulous bachelors, but I think I can confidently say you're the one we've all been waiting for. Am I right?" Emily stands in applause, whooping with her hands cupped around her lips. The edge from waiting for Bruce to show ebbs as you watch her. "Before we start the bidding, we ask all our bachelors to tell us a little bit about themselves. So, Bruce, what's the exclusive? What makes you one of Gotham's most eligible bachelors?"

Bruce looks out into the crowd, eyes sweeping over... everyone that isn't seated at your table. A grin plays at his lips, "I was told by our generous sponsor that I was alarmingly handsome, but those were his words, not mine."

"Oh, yes. Alarmingly handsome, alarmingly rich, and you even give to charity. But besides the obvious," the auctioneer leans in, brandishing a friendly smile, "What else can our bidders know? To help them make the tough decision to bid on you, of course."

"Well... I enjoy the rain and watching the sunset above the city."

"Above the city! Are we talking spontaneous helicopter rides here? Because if that isn't romantic, I don't know what is." Bruce doesn't clarify. He continues to grin, though it feels more private this time. Your finger twitches against your thigh. "What about any secret talents you can show us?"

Bruce thinks for a moment. You watch him straighten up, and without moving any closer to the auctioneer, you watch him remove one of his hands from behind his back. In it is a key ring that looks wholly unfamiliar to you. Bruce holds it up to the light, letting them plink! plink! plink! against each other as he dangles them before the auctioneer. "Do quick fingers count?" You watch the auctioneer's eyes widen, and though he laughs, it's tinged with a nervous air.

The auctioneer snatches the key ring from Bruce and stuffs it into his pocket, and the crowd is laughing so loudly that you barely hear him ask Bruce when he'd had the chance to swipe them. Bruce does not answer. That forces a shocked laugh out of you.

"Right, well, I'd be worried about you taking my car for a spin, but I'd be more impressed if you got it to start." You notice the auctioneer placing a little more distance between himself and Bruce as he continues, "One last question before we start the bidding: Bruce, what's your idea of a perfect date night?"

He really thinks about this one. You buzz, and so does Emily. You don't know why you're so interested to know. "A bit cliche, but I enjoy a quiet night in. Cooking together, listening to a record, enjoying each other's company. I've never been the fancy type. It means the most to me if it's just... us. No one else."

You sit up in your seat, and Bruce's eyes flicker near you. Past you. As if on purpose. You feel Emily rest her hand on your knee and you see her starstruck, eyes twinkling, but before you can see if Bruce is looking back, they're moving onto the next question.

You don't hear it. You see smiling mouths, the rumble of laughter on the breeze. Stage lights blink off his eyes, off his teeth as they shine at the crowd.

"A quiet night in. Cooking together..." It was cliche. Entirely unoriginal. You'd done it before, as had the majority of the dating population. It was simple, not fussy. Not special.

And yet.

It had not been long since you bumped shoulders with Bruce in his very own kitchen, cooking together, fingers colliding in the sudsy sink as you dried dishes and poured wine. The way lovers did, or the way almost lovers would.

The auctioneer quiets down the swoons that roll through the room at... whatever Bruce had said. "Alright, I think everyone's had enough of me tonight. Let's do what we came here to do, folks! We'll start the bidding at—"

Paddles soar into the air before the first number is spoken, and you're overwhelmed by the shouting overlapping as bidders fight to place highest. Emily is jumping out of her seat to be on top every time, and as the number steadily grows, your mind is still reeling.

You grip the fork on your plate, dinner having gone cold an hour and a half ago. You dig the prongs into the flesh of an uneaten brussel sprout as the bids begin to thin out, Emily rising above them all.

But you hear the last number and the sudden silence beside you. You look up to see Emily teetering, hesitant, as an elegant woman across the way stands with her paddle triumphantly in the air. The auctioneer asks for a higher bid, and your stomach twists at the quiet. Emily is not raising her hand.

"Going once..."

You turn your head to her, seeing the dejection in her eyes.

"Going twice..."

Bruce's smile is statuesque.

You grab Emily's paddle and jump to your feet, doubling the bid.

The elegant woman stutters on a retort, floored by the jump in number, and seems to weigh the cons of one-upping you. Your bid goes once, goes twice, and she settles back down into her seat.

The auctioneer whistles loud. "Sold! To the... lovely lady in red and her friend."

Bruce finally looks at you.

"So, just to confirm, you'll be the one paying the bid for number 26?"

You sign off the check with a flourish, ignoring the scary amount of zeros tacked onto it. “Yep.”

“And you understand the date is only valid for the name attached to the bid number? In this case, Emily Madison.”

“100%.”

The woman you hand the check to looks it over a few times, and you’d be offended if you hadn’t written down the absurd number yourself. Finally satisfied, she smiles at you, “Thank you. This will feed a lot of families this holiday season.”

It would, and it would make looking at your bank account later sting a little less.

You find Emily at the front of the stage, posing with Bruce for pictures, and the smile on her face warms you up enough that you almost—almost—ignore that recurring, uneasy feeling in your stomach.

As if she could sense you, Emily turns and finds you in the crowd, eagerly waving you over between photos. You think the meek hand you put up will be enough to deter her, but she continues to wave so fervently that it catches the attention of everyone else. You slip onto stage beside her just as Bruce's eyes flit over to you.

After two more pictures, Emily locks her arm against your side, "You are the best."

You glance up at Bruce to find him already staring at you, the stage lights casting a warm honey glow against the halo of his hair. It angers you how good he looks right now. If you were right and he'd just come off a Bat shift before getting here, you would actually be furious. "I'm sure Bruce would have been beside himself if you didn't win, especially after inviting you personally."

He nods, placing a hand on Emily's bare arm, and you watch her short-circuit in real time. "It's true. Although, I will say, that last bid was a shock. For a second, I thought..." Bruce trails off, cutting his eyes to you.

"I get enough of you at work." You almost say home instead. "Sir."

Emily snorts. Bruce's eyes flash, but all he does is grunt.

You watch him turn fully to Emily, "The organizers are the ones who finalize time and place, so I'll eagerly await our next meeting. It was a pleasure seeing you again, Dr. Madison." And, in a rather rakish move, goes to kiss her knuckles in a gentle bow. When his fingers curl around hers, you see the skin of his knuckles unbroken.

You can't help yourself. The second he pulls away, you snatch his hand in yours and shake it firmly, catching the both of them off guard. "Thanks for inviting us, Mr. Wayne. I can't wait to hear all about what you cook together." You press your thumb into his skin and swipe it across the back of his hand before walking away, a flustered Emily trailing after you a few paces behind.

On the way out, you rub your thumb against a dark, pressed napkin. It comes away with a cream smear.

"Is that-"

"It's me." You drop your things by the front door, shutting and locking it soon after. "No need to kick the door down."

Judith sighs through the phone. "What did Mr. Gordon say? Is it safe for you to be back?"

"The punk that broke in was some reporter's intern and he got quite the talking to, he won't be back. I'm just grabbing some stuff before I take off." You balance your phone between your shoulder on the way to the kitchen pantry. "And my detail's right outside. They'll come in if they hear anything."

"Do you want company?"

Your heart breaks a little bit. You know you ought to say yes; you hadn't had much time alone with her since you'd left, and you already felt terrible for up and leaving her by herself, but the last thing you want is to be around anyone. "No... no. I have to run soon, anyway. I don't want you to make the trip. Plus it's late."

It was late. It was nearing midnight, if your microwave could be trusted.

"That's why I offered, child."

"We can do lunch sometime instead."

You hear Judith pause on the other end, can feel her weighing the pros and cons of arguing further with you, but eventually she relents. "Alright. Be safe. Don't be stupid."

You hang up soon after, and another glance at your phone lets you know that Emily had made it home safe. You shoot off a goodnight text and set it aside, letting yourself lean into the sink-side with the full weight of the day on your shoulders.

The memory of Vicki's intern makes you wince. Vicki makes you wince. Your mind barely brushes over the topic of Dimitri and Judge Mathers before you're leaning over the sink and flipping the faucet on. You cup cold water to your lips, flushing out the wine from dinner.

Dinner, which you'd eaten only half of.

You hadn't slept in your own bed in days, and now you were loathe to. Strangers had been through here. You felt the need to scrub the hardwood until their footprints went away, to tidy until it looked like it did when your life was normal. When you didn't instinctively look to that living room window.

Bruce probably wondered where you were. Or maybe he was out again, back to saving lives, being busy. You feel a pettiness arise in you over knowing that he was out there, doing exactly as you'd expect (and even want) him to do, and yet in the short amount of time you'd gone without hearing or seeing from him, you'd experienced the full range of human emotion.

Maybe it also didn't help that Bruce had been the one to bring you into his world, and yet he'd sent his lawyer to deliver the severance agreement.

But you still live in his house. You know his secret, a secret he has told no more than one person. You sleep a few doors down from him every night. You've touched those scars on his stomach, on his back. Your hand has slipped beneath the armor where seldom anyone else has gone. What do you have to be upset about, really? What are you compensating for?

Your breath hitches. A heavy presence settles behind you, and someone shuts off the faucet.

You get lightheaded. Had the water been so loud that you hadn't heard someone enter, or your thoughts so consuming? You're still bent over, still clutching the sink, and you know that you're screwed from this angle no matter how you spin it.

A hand travels from your shoulder, fingers dangerously close to the neck, only for the hand to pull you up and turn you into their arms. It's Bruce—or Batman, rather—as he levels his severe gaze on you. You're still lightheaded, so you don't say anything.

You think he's going to say something, but all he does is let the hand on your shoulder slip away, leaving burning skin behind. Water runs from your lip down to your chin. Before you can, Bruce is slipping off his glove to wipe it away with his thumb. "Vicki didn't come anywhere near me tonight."

At the mention of her name, your hackles raise. "Her intern broke into my place. Did you know about that, too? Since you keep tabs on people like her?"

Bruce's eyes darken. You see the muscles in his jaw tighten. A few beats pass in which you stare him down, and he circles around an answer before he settles on the only one he can manage. "When?"

"This morning. Gordon came by, thought maybe it might've been Dimitri but... didn't have the right stink. So I paid her a visit." His eyes flicker around your face as you try to remain impassive. "Guess I must've scared her real bad, huh?"

You slip past him, kicking off your shoes by the door. You had a feeling this conversation would be a long one.

"I'm sorry. She's... never gone that far before."

You scoff. "Not your fault you were busy hunting the guy that wants to kill me," you say, and you mean it truthfully, but it still comes out bitter, "and it was the kid's fault, being stupid."

You feel Bruce's eyes trained on you, trying to pick you apart from behind. You feel him assessing every step you take to the living room, your eyes finding the window cracked open, letting in a chilly breeze.

"I'm sorry for being late." His apology is quieter as he makes his way into the room, keeping a sizable distance between you.

"I can't have you at my beck and call, can I?" Your question lingers in the air. You turn to look at him and see him working his jaw, thinking. "But it was... kind of embarrassing. I agonized over what I should say to Emily, if it would hurt her feelings, ruin her night even. And then you didn't show and I thought it was good, maybe for the best. But then you were late and I got... worried. Because I hadn't heard from you all day. And I had a really shit day.

"It crossed my mind that something could have happened to you, and I was seconds away from going to look for you when you suddenly appeared like nothing happened. I was relieved, it's just..." You feel that anger coming back, and however irrational, you level your gaze on Bruce's. "A quiet night in? You couldn't look at me once on that stage, but you had the gall to say—" You laugh. Bruce's head tilts just so, still watching you. "Is that what you wanted? My attention?"

In the back of your mind, you know it's unfair to do this now. For all you know, he hadn't taken a second to breathe after the news on Mathers broke. He'd done the same the night Russo was attacked. You were interrogating him like he'd thrown you to the wolves, and not like you'd just gone without him for a little longer than usual.

But you've had a shit day—really, a shit month—and there wasn't a liquor strong enough to soothe your wounds. You were prey, desperately clinging to some sense of control. Of course you were angry! "Anger" didn't feel like the right word for it, though, now that you really thought about it.

No, it was close. Eerily similar. Burning just as hot.

You stalk toward him. "Did you hope it was my number? Did you want it to be me?"

And this—you think—this enigma you've unraveled, has been at the center of everything. For better or for worse, you'd sealed your fate that night on your living room floor.

You think that if anyone were to fix this, it should be him.

Bruce is trying to figure out what to do. You can see the wheels turning. He's still, something in his eyes reaching for you. The thought of what it might be... oh. You're not angry.

You grab the back of his neck and bring his lips to yours, swallowing the tiny breath he releases into your mouth.

You feel him hesitate, but it's only for a moment. A moment long enough to make your stomach flip with budding regret—guilt at your own recklessness—but it's crushed beneath Bruce's heel when he gathers you into him by the waist, bordering on desperate for contact. The hand that had wiped the water from your chin cups your cheek now, and it's for the better because when he starts kissing back, it feels like he's trying to eat you alive.

You maneuver him away from the kitchen, following after him as you bump the wall, narrowly avoiding the heavy weight of Bruce's boots until you feel the plush of your rug beneath your feet. A thought forms in your head.

You press down on Bruce's shoulders until he gets the hint. His knees hit the floor, his lips separating from yours with a wet pop! and the ragged sound of his rough breathing. Bent at the waist, you pull back enough to see him looking up at you, hands still grasping for your hips. You don't like not being able to see all of his face right now, and so you slip your fingers underneath the neck of the cowl and tug it off, revealing his tousled hair that had looked so perfect earlier. You were the only one to see him like this. Your chest swells with pride.

You pry his hands off you and place them on his own waist instead, keeping his gaze the entire time. "Off."

Your command is but a whisper, and Bruce takes a second before he's peeling off his chest plate and utility belt and gloves, and eventually the under suit is hanging open at his hips like it had at your kitchen table not so long ago. He sits so pretty on his knees, chest flushed, waiting for you.

There are new scars on his skin. There would always be new scars. As your eyes trace each one, you almost laugh. His bullet wound stares back at you.

You shove him onto his back.

He falls to the ground with a thud and as you're straddling him, you hear a knock at the door. Bruce's hands pause in finding your hips as a voice carries through. "Hey, uh... you alright in there?"

It's the cop who couldn't be assed to look after you. "Yes." You hiss.

"You sure? Look, I know earlier—"

"Please fuck off." Bruce makes a noise from beneath you. When you look down at him, his eyes are lit up like they were at the auction. His hands finally settle on you, locking you against him, and a thrill rises within you. You wait for the silence outside to follow, and then you speak, hushed. "You never answered my question."

Bruce blinks away the haze settling over him, "What?"

"You wanted it to be me. You like when I... look at you. When I see what no one else sees. You like my attention or you wouldn't keep coming back." Your finger traces his bullet wound and you see his lips purse before any sounds could sneak past them. Your other hand travels up his chest, reaching until you can feel the edge of his stab wound.

Bruce's eyes narrow. You almost think you've struck the wrong nerve. "And you like looking at me."

You sink your weight against his lap and his eyelashes flutter.

You feel one of his hands sink into your hair when you bend to kiss the fading scars along his chest, feel his hips buck off the floor a little when your tongue presses into a purpled bruise. "We have to be quiet," you chasten, "I hear you pay your security well."

Bruce's breath warms the top of your head and he angles you away from his skin, eyes singling in on your puckered mouth. His other hand plays at your hip, fingers rubbing back and forth through the material until his fingers slip underneath and find the hem of your underwear. You shiver. His finger hooks underneath the hem and pulls teasingly, drawing a muted whimper out of you. "I'm sure you're creative enough to find a way."

Your eyes flicker to his. You rut your hips against his own for good measure, watching his jaw tick in an attempt to stay silent. "For me or for you?" Then, you begin to slip down his thighs, your kisses passing his navel and getting closer and closer to where his under suit still clings to skin. You feel something bump your chin.

The hand in your hair tightens just so. You feel lightheaded again.

You move back just as he sits up. You see the paint around the crease of his eyes beginning to run a little bit, the fingers stuck in your underwear now tugging with an urgency.

a/n: if I had a nickel for every time I wrote reader getting upset with bruce at a public function only to makeout with him when they got home i would have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice right. anyway bruce used ur underwear as a gag happy holidays

[nino-rox]

Stiles x Male Reader | Fluff

Requested by Anonymous User - Not Proof Read

Teen Wolf AU - First time cuddling

Cookies & Cuddles

It had only been a week and a half since you and Stiles had started dating, but it felt both brand new and incredibly familiar, like you’d been circling each other for much longer. The thrill of finally being together was still fresh, but there was also that comfortable ease that came from years of friendship. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you pulled a tray of cookies from the oven, the smell of chocolate chip filling the kitchen.

You’d baked them as a surprise for Stiles, knowing how much he loved them. His sweet tooth was no secret, especially when he’d confessed it during one of those late-night conversations when it was just the two of you, sitting on the steps of your house. Stiles had been rambling about some bizarre case with Scott, and then out of nowhere, he'd gone off on a tangent about cookies. You’d laughed at the time, but tonight, you thought it’d be a nice gesture.

He arrived just as you were setting them down to cool, his Jeep rumbling to a stop outside. You could hear the faint sound of him locking it before his footsteps made their way to your front door. You opened it before he could knock, a habit you’d developed. Stiles stood there, his usual awkward smile on his face, hair even messier than normal—probably from some other crazy supernatural situation he hadn’t even told you about yet.

"Hey," he said, eyes lighting up the moment they caught sight of you. His shoulders visibly relaxed, and you could tell that being with you, even after a chaotic day, was becoming his safe haven.

"Hey yourself," you smiled back, stepping aside so he could come in. As soon as he entered, his eyes immediately darted to the kitchen, catching the scent of freshly baked cookies.

"Are those...?" His expression was priceless—wide-eyed, like he’d just stumbled upon a treasure.

You chuckled, "Yep. Thought you’d like a little treat after today."

"Okay, you’re officially the best boyfriend ever," Stiles declared, making a beeline for the kitchen like he hadn’t eaten in days. "No, seriously. You didn’t have to—wait, yes you did, because these smell *amazing*."

You followed him, laughing at his enthusiasm as he leaned over the tray, inhaling deeply. “I figured you needed something nice after whatever supernatural craziness happened today.”

He turned to you, still grinning. “Do you know me or what? But yeah, it was… intense. Scott almost got his head ripped off, Malia turned into full-on were-coyote mode, and Lydia’s banshee scream? Nearly deafened me again. But all in a day’s work, right?” He smirked, but you could see the exhaustion behind his eyes.

“You’re always saving the world,” you teased lightly, stepping closer to him. “But now you can relax for a bit.”

Stiles’ grin softened as he met your gaze. “I like that idea.” He reached out, fingers brushing yours before taking your hand in his. “You’re like my calm in the storm, you know that?”

Your heart swelled at his words, and for a second, the world outside really did feel distant. It was just the two of you, wrapped in the quiet comfort of your kitchen, the faint smell of rain still lingering outside.

“C’mon,” you said, tugging him toward the couch. “Cookies can wait until they cool.”

Stiles followed, still holding your hand, and as you sat down, the weight of the day seemed to fall away from him. You both settled in, his arm resting over your shoulders, pulling you closer. His body was warm against yours, the faint scent of his cologne—something woodsy and familiar—mingling with the ever-present hint of mint from his gum. It was a comfort, something uniquely Stiles.

You were quiet for a moment, and then Stiles broke it, his voice softer now. “You know, it’s weird. We’ve been dating for what, like a week and a half? But I feel like...”

“Like it’s been longer?” you finished for him.

“Exactly.” He squeezed your hand. “I guess that’s the benefit of knowing each other so well, huh?”

“Yeah, makes things a lot easier,” you said, smiling. “But it’s still new, and I kinda like that. Figuring all this out.”

He leaned his head against your shoulder, and for a moment, everything was perfect. His heart beat steady, his breathing calm—until, in true Stiles fashion, he couldn’t resist. “So, uh… how does this work?” he asked, gesturing between the two of you, his expression mock-serious. “Is this where we do the whole ‘first cuddle as a couple��� thing? I just don’t want to mess up the *routine* or anything. There’s like, a protocol, right?”

You laughed, leaning into him. “Pretty sure you’re doing fine so far.”

“Good to know,” he said, voice dipping into that soft, vulnerable tone he only used when it was just the two of you. He paused for a second, then turned his head slightly, his lips brushing your cheek. It was a tentative, sweet gesture, but it made your pulse race all the same. He pulled back, looking into your eyes, searching for any hesitation, but you smiled, giving him the go-ahead without words.

Stiles leaned in again, this time pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. The kiss was slow, gentle—like he was savoring the moment, taking his time to explore the feeling of being this close to you. His lips were soft, and you could still taste the faint mint on his breath.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were smiling, a little breathless. Stiles’ face was flushed, but the happiness in his eyes was undeniable.

“I think I like this ‘routine,’” he said, grinning.

“Yeah?” you teased, still close enough to feel his breath against your skin.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, pulling you closer again, his thumb gently brushing along your jawline. “We should definitely make this a regular thing.”

You chuckled, settling back into the couch as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly. The rain outside had picked up again, tapping softly against the windows, but inside, the world felt warm and safe. Stiles, ever the fidgeter, started tracing lazy patterns on your hand, his other arm snug around your waist.

“This is nice,” he murmured after a while, his voice starting to grow a little drowsy.

You nodded, feeling the same contentment wash over you. “Yeah, it is.”

For a few more moments, neither of you said anything, just enjoying the quiet comfort of being together. Then, out of nowhere, Stiles perked up. “Wait, the cookies! Did I miss the cooling window?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, they’re still good. You want to grab some now?”

“Hell yes,” he said, jumping up with renewed energy. He dashed to the kitchen and returned, holding a plate of warm cookies in triumph. “I’ve survived another day in Beacon Hills, and I deserve this,” he declared, handing you one before taking a huge bite out of his own. His eyes closed in bliss. “Oh my God, these are perfect.”

You grinned, taking a bite yourself. “Only the best for the hero of Beacon Hills.”

Stiles beamed at you, chocolate smudging the corner of his mouth. “Okay, stop. You’re gonna make me blush.”

“You’re already blushing,” you teased, leaning in to kiss the chocolate from his lips. And just like that, you found yourselves kissing again, sweet and soft, the taste of cookies mixing with the warmth of the moment.

In that instant, the world outside faded away. No werewolves, no banshees, no looming threats. Just you and Stiles, in the calm of a stormy Beacon Hills night, knowing that whatever craziness came next, you had each other.

[plussizefantasia]

CozyTober Day 10: Unsanctioned Halloween Party

Tony Stark x wife!reader, with a healthy dose of Iron dad thrown in

WC: 1.1k

a/n: This one kind of got away from me and I left the end kinda open in case I want to come back someday but I like how it turned out. Reblog if you liked it and Day 11 should be out in a little bit (i'm working on it as we speak)!

You used to think that couples' costumes were cheesy and unoriginal. Then you started dating Tony, who could sell a hair dryer to a bald man and suddenly you were wearing couple’s costumes every year. You two had gotten to the point that you felt the need to one-up your own costumes every year because literally nobody else was on your level. This Halloween you had gone to the ‘Stark Spook Spectular’ together as Beetlejuice and Lydia, you in the poofy red dress and Tony in the classic black and white suit and crazy wig.

You had partied the night away with your friends, danced, drank, and did some truly epic karaoke. When the clock struck 1:00 am you bid your goodbyes and had a car drive the two of you to your brownstone home a couple blocks away. 

“Wonder what Pete’s up to?” Tony spoke into your hair as the two of you leaned into each other in the backseat.

“He said he was gonna go to Ned’s and watch some scary movies while eating his body weight in candy.” You think back to the conversation you had had with your non-quite son earlier that day when he had stopped by after school.

“Good. Normal kid stuff.” Tony replied pulling out his phone. He had a habit of doing that when the two of you were on the way home. He would check in on the security system from his phone, you supposed it was so he could be ready for any situation he might walk into.

You weren’t expecting his shout of “What the shit.” and the way he suddenly sat up and more-or-less launched you up into the air. 

His small mutter of apology was quickly overshadowed by Tony shoving his phone in your face, the live feed of your living room displayed on the screen.

There, in plain view of the camera was Peter Parker, frantically trying to keep the nearly 200 hundred teenagers that filled your house from destroying the place. It would be adorable the way he threw coasters down and pushed shoes off your coffee table if you weren’t so pissed that the kid had thrown a party in your absence.

It wasn’t long before you turned the corner onto your street and could see and hear the damage for yourself. Lights strobed out of your windows and you could hear the music that was blaring even in the car with the windows rolled up and down the street. 

The car slowed to a stop in front of your house and you jumped out of the back, not even waiting until the wheels stopped rolling. Tony paid the driver and raced after you entering the front door only seconds after you did.

The music while appropriately themed for a Halloween was about 15 dB too loud and drowned out whatever your husband was trying to tell you.

You wove through the throngs of teens, glaring at any who dared to make eye contact with you and tried to make your way to the access panel in the kitchen. The only physical interface for FRIDAY is on the first floor. A few buttons later the music stopped. 

Shouts of confusion and anger were heard but none really registered in your mind. A frantic Spider-boy slid around the corner and into view, his arms laden with empty bottles and glasses.

“Hey, who touched-” He stopped. His face drained of color and he froze right where he was. 

You cocked your hip out and put on your strongest don’t you dare face. You ran your tongue across your front teeth and tsked at him which was enough to startle him from the “freeze” state he had succumbed to.

‘Mr and Mrs. Stark!” You didn’t even notice Tony was standing behind you, his own dad-face activated and in full force. “I-I can explain.”

“Don’t.” You put your hand up. “Even bother.”

You took the deepest breath in the history of deep breaths. “If you do not live here you have ten seconds to get out.” Nobody moved. 

“Ten. Nine.” Tony started counting behind you and every single person in the house jumped into motion. 

Teens spilled out into your front yard and you’re even sure you say some start to climb out of windows, too afraid that they would still be within the walls when Iron Man reached zero.

You waited for the house to empty, dead-eyeing kids as they walked past you, before turning back to a pale-looking Peter. Still standing in the same spot and with arms still full of trash. 

“Here is what is going to happen. We-” you motion at Tony and yourself “are going to go upstairs and change out of our costumes. You are going to clean however much you can during that time and then we are going to talk about this.” 

“Don’t leave, I know where you live.” Tony tossed his way before ushering you up the stairs and into your room. He helped you unzip your dress and you took his wig off for him.

“Is it bad that I’m kind of happy?” He spoke up.

“Only if it’s bad that I am too.” You responded. “Why are you happy?” You ask him.

“I just get so worried about the kid, I mean he’s so smart and he’s got the whole world on his shoulders. I just wish he’d loosed up sometimes.” Tony spoke with a rare vulnerability in his voice. “What about you?” he asked back, “Why are you happy.”

“Well, I know that we’re not his parents, I know that. But it’s kinda nice to have these normal moments ya know? It feels like tonight, we’re not owners of a multi-billion dollar cooperation and celebrities and spies and superheroes and all of the million things we are every other day. It just feels like we’re Mr. and Mrs. Stark, and our son has just thrown an illicit party while we were gone and it’s all just so very… normal.” 

During your rant, you slowly walked across the room so that you were standing behind Tony. You wrapped your arms around his middle and rested your forehead on his back. 

“I think-” you paused, “I think it’s okay that we’re happy, as long as we don’t tell Peter.”

Tony’s frame shook as he laughed and you could feel the slight tension he was carrying bleed out of him.

“We better get down there, kid’s probably freaking himself out way more than we ever could.”  Tony moved you in front of him and kissed you softly. “Ready to go be the most normal non-parent parents in the world?” 

“I’ve been waiting my whole life for this moment.” You nodded and said deadpanned. Breaking moments after into a small fit of giggles that had your husband smiling at you with love in his eyes.

[carlsdarling]

PLEASE do a part 3 of Carl with an older reader! It can be hcs, a blurb, whatever I just need more of that series 🤭

Carl x Older!Reader Headcanons Part IV

More headcanons... I adress with this more than one request, as there were many requests for a sequel. Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, oral (male receiving)

Carl always gets insecure and it drives him crazy when older guys give you interested looks. Last week, Jesus from Hilltop tried to strike up a conversation with you. Carl was standing a few meters away with Rick and some other people discussing the exchange of goods and kept looking over suspiciously the entire time. Rick noticed this angrily and had to keep chiding Carl to concentrate on the conversation, while Gregory stared irritably from one to the other. After a few minutes, Carl couldn't take it any longer - he turned around with an angry snort and marched over to you and Jesus, where he immediately put his arm around you possessively to mark his territory. Jesus frowned in amazement and raised his right eyebrow. "You... well, you two are..." he tried to pose a question, but Carl gruffly and aggressively cut him off. "Yes, we are. Do you have a problem with that?" Jesus raised both hands placatingly, rolled his eyes and backed away. "What does this guy think he's doing?" Carl hissed irately. "But Carl, he was just..." That was as far as you got because Carl pressed his lips roughly onto yours, gripping your hips, before pulling you behind the nearest shed, pressing you face-first against the wall to push up your dress, pull down your panties and take you from behind with fierce, jealous thrusts. The night that followed was filled with angry sex.

Carl is cuddly. He would never display it publicly, but as soon as the two of you are alone, he is all over you and wants to be held and cuddled. He is such a cute mix of being awkward and trying to be manly, especially when it comes to sex. He hasn't found his persona yet - either he acts overly dominant, or he submits to you completely; letting you take the lead and having your way with him. It’s pretty adorable.

Although the two of you have sex every day, you often surprise Carl by catching him pleasuring himself - usually in the bathroom. Each time he's embarrassed, each time he pretends it's just an one-time thing, and each time you end up in bed. Or in the shower, where you usually suck him off while he buries his hand in your wet hair and moans with his head thrown back, moving his hips. You love to put a hand on his butt in the process to feel the play of his muscles, or to toy with his balls. You also love the taste of his cock and his cum, as Carl loves to cum in your warm mouth and to see his cum dripping from your luscious, wet lips.

When Carl started getting close to Enid, it bothered you - but whenever Carl asked you if you were jealous, you denied it because you felt silly admitting it. Then Carl and Enid spent more and more time together, and gradually you began to feel uncomfortable with it. After all, this girl was a much better match for Carl in terms of age; besides, it was obvious that Enid had a crush on Carl. And she was sure to make a move on him soon, if she hadn't already. You became increasingly ill-tempered towards Carl, especially when he came home late and admitted to spending time with Enid when you asked where he was. You withdrew more and more from Carl, you hated this friendship, but you didn't dare speak openly to Carl about it - until the situation escalated one evening when Carl didn't come home again until around midnight and you could watch from the window as Enid hugged him goodbye. You were boiling with rage and left the house through the back door to spend the night at Lydia's, ranting at Enid the whole time. The next day, when Carl was on guard duty, you'd had enough: you sought out Enid and told her rudely to her face that she should keep her damn  slutty hands off Carl and respect his relationship with you. When Enid laughed at you and claimed that Carl was a much better match for her, you snapped, went nuclear and slapped her across the face before pushing her to the ground and running home. Of course, Enid told Carl about it and Carl confronted you. "Why would you do something like that?" he asked helplessly, ruffling his hair, his beautiful blue eye worried and annoyed at the same time. "Enid didn't do anything to you." Upset, you threw a sofa cushion against the wall, no longer able to hide your hurt and anger. "Oh no?" you shout, on the verge of tears. "You spend almost every evening with her, and she's clearly chasing after you!" Carl shook his head with a sigh and said that wasn't true, he and Enid were just friends. As a result, you withdrew even more from Carl and didn't let him get close to you anymore; you blocked all his advances and attempts at reconciliation. Did that horrible, homely girl have to destroy your relationship? You started to detest Enid. Carl realized that things couldn't go on like this; he also realized that Enid was trying to charm him and distance him from you. One evening, Carl came into your bedroom with a large bouquet of red roses. "I'm so, so sorry, Y/N," he said contritely. "You were right about Enid. And I was unfair to you. I shouldn't have neglected you like I did.“

Carl crawled under the covers to you and kissed your neck longingly. "Please, let me make it up to you," he pleaded, his eye expressing affection and desire. "You are my eyerything... you always were, always will be... I am so sorry..." You had missed it so much, his skin so hot against yours, his moans, Carl sucking your nipples with those sultry noises, his big dick inside you, stretching you out, his hands on your body, the trembling when he climaxed and his thrusts got faster and harder, his fucked out face, his messy sweaty hair and all the cuteness overload. Afterwards, Carl told you, holding you firmly in his arms, that he had virtually cut off contact with Enid because she was constantly trying to steal him from you. "I love you, Y/N. Only you. It's just you and me." Finally reassured, you were able to sleep in his arms for the first night in a long time without the fear of losing him.

You and Carl haven't talked about it openly yet, but you've recently started clearing out a room in the house, painting the walls a sunny yellow and furnishing the room with baby things as if by accident - you got a cradle, baby clothes and a rocking horse from Maggie, and apparently your friend Lydia dropped a few hints in the community, because one day Abraham turned up with a still-original baby changer that he'd looted from somewhere and then got to work setting it up. Rosita found baby bedding and a mobilée somewhere. Deanna retrieved Spencer's old storybooks and put them on the little blue shelf that Gabriel had given you, and Michonne brought some baby bottles, a plush dinosaur and lullers from the supermarket. "When would you and Carl like to have a baby?" she asked straightforwardly. "Or are you already...?" She gazed meaningfully at your belly. "Uuum... no... and actually... we've never talked about whether we even want a child..." you mumbled.  Michonne eyed you with incomprehension. "And why the baby's room then?" You seemed embarrassed. "It was just... we kind of started furnishing it, but that doesn't mean we wanted a child... it was more out of... boredom?" Michonne just grinned knowingly.

A few days later, Carl told you in bed at night that he wouldn't mind skipping the condoms. Your breath caught in your throat. "Do you mean...?" Carl nodded fervently. "I would love to have a baby together," he whispered with so much affection.

Tags: @tessasweet @taylormarieee @loveforcarl @knochentrocken0808 @xxcarlswifexx

[mysticallystilinski]

can u write a fluff where stiles has another panic attack and the reader is there to comfort him :D

trepidation | s. stilinski x fem!reader | fluff/angst

summary: you and stiles get trapped in the winter night of beacon hills, something may change it all

warnings: swearing, panic attacks, slight angst, anxiety, and mentions of harm

a/n: { hi! it’s lav, i hope you guys enjoy this, and please request more, as i’ve literally have no ideas.. }

trep·i·da·tion

noun: trepidation

a feeling of fear or agitation about something that may happen.

———————————————————

the night was cold as you held your hands in between your warm thighs. stiles was driving his jeep in the sleet, ice roads. the power previously went out, and now you and stiles were heading to the pack. before your phone died, lydia had called you when she sensed something was happening. she had a hard feeling in her conscience, but she couldn’t pinpoint on what it was exactly. her breathing fell short onto the phone as your battery level promptly went to zero.

“stiles, my phone died. do you have a charger?” you lifted your head up to catch the gaze of the quiet boy. he tilted his head slightly, and licked his lips in attempt to chap-pen them. “uh, i think it’s around here somewhere.” he states. he uses his free hand to navigate around the back of the jeep in attempt to find the missing cord. he directed his gaze to the back seats for a split second to try to find it. his other hand, controlling the wheel, slightly tilted to the right and you felt a bump hit the tire.

you and stiles both looked at each-other in accord as he released his right hand from the backseat and placed both hands on the steering wheel. the car slowly went for a stop as something got lodged into the old jeeps tire. “you have got to be kidding me,” you huff out. “stiles, please tell me you still have that spare tire on the back of your jeep?” you smile shyly in attempt to butter up his reaction to the unfortunate event.

“remember that day last year when me and scott were playing around.. with the tire,” he laughed playfully, but with a sense of frighten. “you have got to be fucking kidding me,” you grit straight through your teeth. stiles smile fades into the black of the night as you open up the jeep door, and head out by the back of the car.

it wasn’t an ideal night, it was freezing cold, the power went out, and not to mention you guys were in the middle of the woods.

you heard the jeep door ram as stiles emerged from the left side of the car. “who’s idea was it to take the shortcut route,” you sneer. stiles gave you a menacing look as he popped open the back of the trunk. the jeeps blue figure moved up slowly with the guide of stiles hand. his eyes scanned the messy space in front of him in search of something that may help. he sighed for a few seconds in defeat as nothing came up in his scan. “maybe you should look with your hands”, you snickered. you took a step closer to the large vehicle and dived straight in. you began to shuffle around the papers, and the tools in attempt to at least find something useful.

you couldn’t manage to find anything helpful in this situation. stiles was still behind you, and you felt his cold gaze latch onto your soul. “what if we never get this car started,” he questioned frightfully. “trepidation”, you said. “what?”, he asked. “trepidation.. a feeling of fear or agitation about something that may happen.” he fell silent at the sound of your quip words. the cold was bustling as the night grew darker. you knew stiles was panicked, and not knowing what to do. but you didn’t know to what extent his fear was at.

you heard staggered breathing from behind you. quickly, you whipped your head to see stiles on the floor, tears dripping down his eyes. “it just came out of nowhere”, he yelped in pain. “what did? what came out of nowhere?”, you briefly asked. stiles eyes were as cold as stone. he stared into the open gape of the trees from behind you. you quickly got onto the floor next to him. stiles was known for loving physical touch from you during these episodes. you pulled him into a hug, his head laid onto your chest. “stiles, it’s gonna be okay”, you whispered while hugging him. your hands got trapped into his brown locks of hair. his cold body shook while he whispered some words of breathe and it’s gone. “stiles what happened?”, you ask persistently.

his breathing began to get heavier, and heavier. you strained at the sound of him gasping for air. it was like his head was underwater, and you didn’t know how to drain it. “stiles, please, look at me”, you plead. he stares into your lighted eyes, and starts to breathe. “listen to me sti.. trepidation”, you speak. his eyes grew warmer as your voice seemed to echo in his entire mind. “trepidation.. a feeling of fear, or agitation about something that may happen”. you see his body move up and down with the beat of his each breath. his face was less tense, and his body more relaxed. panic attacks weren’t uncommon for him, but this one sparked fear into you.

“just remember stiles.. trepidation.”

———————————————————

[littlejazzy]

👻 Spooky Shows For Spooky Littles 👻

The season is changing, and with it, Halloween approaches! Here's a list of shows that are thematically appropriate, viewable for free on Archive.Org or free with ads on Tubi! It's organized kinda sorta from shows for the littlest little to things that might be more appropriate for middles - but don't let that stop you from exploring anything that looks interesting!

Super Monsters (2017) [S1] [S2] [S3] [x] [x] [x] [x]

The children of various monsters learn lessons and how to use their monster powers! (The [x]s are various specials that occur after the main series)

Ruby Gloom (2006)

Staring the titular Ruby Gloom, this is a really cute show about her and her slightly spooky friends!

A Pup Named Scooby Doo (1988)

Adapted for a younger audience, Mystery Inc. is similarly aged down in this extremely cartoony and silly animated series!

Sabrina The Animated Series (1999)

Admittedly, Sabrina is pretty cutesy, but she is a witch, so watch as this fact gets her into hijinks and adventures with her friends and talking cat! (Tubi Mirror)

Tutenstein (2003)

A 10 year old mummy is brought back to life after 3,000 years and has to adjust to modern day! Heavy focus on Egyptology and fairly accurate portrayals of Egyptian deities and myths!

Growing Up Creepie (2006)

Adopted and raised by a family of bugs, Creepie is a girl who's entering middle school and learning how to interact with humans! There's a heavy focus on bugs and fun facts about them!

Bump in the Night (1994)

A stop-motion cartoon, Mr. Bumby is a monster that lives under the bed, who at night has adventures with Squishington (a slime monster who used to live in the toilet tank) and Molly Coddle (a ragdoll)! (Tubi Mirror)

The Addams Family (1972)

An animated adaptation based off of the original comics, watch the spooky family and their kooky adventures!

Beetlejuice: The Animated Series (1987)

Follow the adventures of Lydia Deetz and her best friend from the Netherworld, Beetlejuice! (The archive is only for the first season - as of posting this, the full series is available to stream, with ads, on Tubi)

Freaky Stories (1997)

An animated anthology show hosted by two, gross live-action puppets!

Scooby Doo, Where Are You? (1969)

(Only available on Tubi) The original show that started it all, watch Scooby and the gang explore spooky places and solve mysteries!

Making Fiends (2009)

Follow Vendetta as she makes fiends, while Charlotte makes friends!

The Real Ghostbusters (1986)

This show follows the adventures of the Ghostbusters after the events of the original film! Some episodes are silly and cartoony while others can get a bit more intense and serious. The last few seasons are a spin-off show for younger audiences.

Extreme Ghostbusters (1997)

Follow-up to The Real Ghostbusters, this show follows the adventures of a new team of 'busters... in the extreme 90s!

Archie's Weird Mysteries (1999)

Watch Archie and his friends explore the strange and sometimes spooky secrets of Riverdale... but, erm, not like the latest adaption, lol (Tubi Mirror)

The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy (2001)

After losing a bet to two children, the Grim Reaper is forced to be friends with them - mayhem ensues! (due to how the files are named, the series is scrambled, but is otherwise all there)

Tales from the Cryptkeeper (1999)

Animated anthology series of kids and teens facing spooky situations! (Tubi Mirror)

Nightmare Ned (1997)

Ned has frequent nightmares based off of what happened to him during the day!

Monster Force (1994)

A group of teenagers from the futuristic year of 2020 fight monsters and creatures using high tech gadgets!

Roswell Conspiracies: Aliens, Myths and Legends (1999)

(Only available on Tubi) Aliens live among us, evolving into what we know to be monsters, myths, and legends - A man named Logan joins the Global Alliance, a shady government organization, to unravel conspiracies and to do good!

GhostWriter (1992)

A live-action show, a team of children gather clues and evidence to solve neighborhood mysteries and crimes... with the help of a ghost who can only communicate with them by altering written text! (due to how the files are named, the first 9 episodes are out of order)

Gravity Falls (2012)

Twins Dipper and Mabel Pines explore the mysteries of the titular town of Gravity Falls! (if you have the space, probably make a copy of this one, lol)

Eerie, Indiana (1991)

Live-action show that follows new teenage resident of Eerie, Indiana, Marshall as he finds out that his new town is, well, eerie!

Goosebumps (1995)

Each episode/two-parter is based off of R.L. Stine's books, this live-action anthology show will give you, well, goosebumps! (as a bonus, here's pdfs and e-pubs of every single book - enjoy!)

Are You Afraid of the Dark? (1992)

The live-action spooky anthology show of all time, this show is perfect for middles ready to get scared! Listen and watch the Midnight Society gather around the campfire to tell spooky tales!

📼 Enjoy your shows! And remember - if you really like something, you should probably back it up! 📼

[mieczyslawhale]

Pack mama stiles, season three rewrite.

Durring the four months between semesters, Stiles hangs around as derek trains jackson and issac. Smart assing his way into being better for eachother while trying to find erica and boyed. Helping Derek find real eastate in becon hills for all of them. A home for when they find erica and boyed.

Then issac goes missing and Derek nearly looses it. Stiles holds their efforts together, even hiring a private gun woman to find and protect the betas.

At the end of the day he and lydia start spending more time together. Having movie nights where they talk about the struggles and efforts. With Lydias help Stiles is directed to focus on his own sexuality. Realizing much sooner hes bisexual.

Javkson gets the news hes being moved to london and Derek practically forces him out for safety. Stiles breaks up their verbal fights and tells jackson to stay in contact, that even though jackson 'doesnt care' he'll still update him on the situation.

----

Jump to Derek and scott breaking into the vault. Derek convinced erica isnt dead even though issac said he saw her dead. He finds her body, hearing a faint pulse in her body. Hes a littke frantic and they call stiles. As stiles is breifed on what happened he thinks a second then asks Allison if she has any volt arrows that can send electrisity through her to restart her heart. After high tension arguing and stumbling Alason shocks erica making her heart stop. Shes to weak to do anything but heal. They drive her to the loft and drop her off with peter and Stiles. Stiles lays her down then forces Peter out. Once outside the loft he connects a line of mountain ash to keeo her inside and anything else outside. He doesnt explain himself as he runs to Lydia after she calls.

-----

Erica, Boyd, Issac and Cora move in with Derek. While stiles is running around dealing with finding patterns in ritual killings derek is faced with the Alphas. Hes scared and tries to throw issac out but stiles yells at derek to back off. (This is also the first time cora is meeting stiles. He just barged in without noticing her)

Stiles argues with Derek until. He admits whats going on. Leaving out that hes scared but stiles knows. Stiles tells Issac to pack a bag. As the weakest of the pack he to is worried for his safety. He comunicates as much to scott. Making his friend take in Issac for safety. Stiles tells derek what hes up against and that he wont be much help and he knows Derek wont be either with his durach problem. Its durring this conversation cora realizes they are mates. But derek hasnt told stiles about it.

------

During the lacross trip. Stiles thinks derek is dead the whole ime hes running around keeping the pack together. On the bus lydia sits with him and holds his hand as he morns now thay scott is healing. But the moment passes when he has to stop the betas from commiting suicide. A high stress situation that leaves him drained when he gets back to becon hills. Only to find derek isnt dead.

His celebration is stopped when derek becomes more withdrawled. Walking away from him and seen around school with stiles teacher. Hes pissed. Heart broken. But hes got murders and betas to worry about.

(I like to headcanon jennifer put an emchantment on derek when she touched him and seeing stiles beg for help, his mate, broke the enchantment)

[andreafmn]

12 Days of Ficmas ❅ Day 1

Word Count: 4.8K Paring:  Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader Prompt @alloftheprompts: Character A and Character B broke up but now they meet at a Christmas party.

Summary: In unpredictable Beacon Hills, Stiles and (Y/N) being together was one of the only things that made sense. But sometimes the smallest of changes can create the biggest of chaos. And a simple college admission letter can do just that. Maybe all it takes is the right Christmas gift to make things better.

A/N: yup, that's right, I'm doing 12 Days of Ficmas again (even if I haven't finished Kinktober 🫣🫣 but I am nothing if not a masochist (and a slight procrastinator) But enjoy!! This story actually made me tear up, honestly. But it wouldn't be one of my stories if there wasn't an insane amount of angst 😅 Also, disclaimer, I have not seen the last two seasons of Teen Wolf or the movie so, sorry for any inconsistencies.

Next ->

“Let’s just get this over with,” (Y/N) sighed as she fixed the Santa hat on top of her head. “They don’t have to know yet.”

“Yeah,” Stiles grimaced. “It’s better to wait until after the holidays, I guess.”

It was the first time Stiles and (Y/N) had ever been terrified to enter Scott’s house and face all of their friends. Even worse, they had to pretend everything was fine between them. 

Since they were little, the pair had been inseparable. Being next-door neighbors allowed them to grow close at a rapid pace. It was in her that he found solace on the nights his mother’s illness would take the best of her mind. He would run over to her house and climb the lattice that ran all the way up to her room. 

And she wouldn’t ask questions. (Y/N) would simply let him in through her window and distract him until he eventually drifted off to sleep. She did not need any explanations or reasons to comfort Stiles. She simply knew he needed her, and so she was there for him. Because if there was anything she knew of, it was the pain of slowly losing a parent.

They shared a bond that no one could break. Even as Scott entered their duo and they became the perfect trio, Stiles and (Y/N) shared a connection like no other. So, it came as no surprise to anyone when they got together. Even after Stiles had continuously professed his love for Lydia. Even after (Y/N) and Boyd had a quick fling. Everyone knew that it would be the two of them at the end of the day. 

What no one expected was that one day, they wouldn’t be Stiles and (Y/N) anymore. Hell, not even they had seen it coming. 

Their downfall had begun the second week of December. For some reason, the couple had not spoken about what happened after high school. In their senior year, they were focusing on the present, leaving the future where it was. Because what they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them. 

(Y/N) had applied under early action to various colleges, thinking nothing of it. But there was one college that had been her dream since her father had passed, and that was her only early decision application. She had worked every day since to make sure she was at least close to being accepted. But it was never a sure thing. 

She had promised herself to put it in the back of her mind. Stressing over that envelope would only drive her into madness. As much as she wanted it to be true, she knew the reality of the situation. The chances she could ever get in, much less with a full ride, were slim to none. And hoping only made things worse.

Still, that hadn’t stopped her from applying; it hadn’t stopped her from wishing. 

“Honey,” her mother had said one afternoon after she got home from school. “Look what came in the mail.” 

In her hands, there was a white manila envelope with blue lettering that clearly read: University of Oxford. 

(Y/N) could have sworn she could feel her heart in her throat, beating at an unnatural pace and threatening to leap out of her body. She crossed the distance between her front door to the kitchen faster than she had ever done before, needing to feel the paper in her hands. Only seeing it was not proof enough that it was real. 

“I don’t think I can open it,” the girl worried. “What if it’s bad, mom?”

“You won’t know unless you see, my darling,” she smiled softly. “But no matter what, you will still be the most impressive young lady I have known. And any college would be lucky to have you.”

With trembling hands, she broke open the envelope and pulled out a beautiful and crisp piece of white paper. “Dear (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” she read before taking a steadying breath. “It is with greatest pleasure that we inform you that the Admissions Comittee has decided to offer you admission to Oxford University through our binding Early Decision (ED) option on a full scholarship.”

As (Y/N) read those words, tears spilled from her eyes, and the papers fell from her hands. Her mother wrapped her arms tightly around her, showering her with words of love and encouragement. It had been everything she had worked for. Something not even the supernaturals of the world could take from her. 

“You’re going to Oxford, baby girl,” her mother cooed. “I knew you could. Your dad would have been just as proud as I am.” 

That moment should have been the happiest in her life so far. But there was a dark cloud that lingered over her as she celebrated. She had not told anyone she was applying to a college so far away, much less the reason she would be doing so. Mostly because she was terrified she wouldn’t get in. But part of her knew it was because she was leaving all her friends behind, leaving Stiles behind. And that was the hardest part. 

For the rest of the week, as she celebrated internally, she hid the biggest news of her life from all of her friends and the boy she had deemed the love of her life. Anyone would have thought she was the one harboring a secret supernatural life with the way she was guarding her secret. And, maybe it shouldn’t have been something she kept to herself. Maybe they would have all been excited for her and understood the reason for the distance. But something deep in her stopped her every single time. 

If her friends had noticed there was anything different from her demeanor, they didn’t say a thing. In the midst of final exams and the Christmas holidays soon approaching, everyone seemed to be stuck in their own heads. So, if they were in their heads, they couldn’t know there was something happening in hers.  

But that Friday night, at the same hour Stiles would always sneak in, (Y/N) knew there was no way she could continue to hide her secret any longer. 

“Come on,” he chuckled as he jumped onto her bed, holding his arms open. “Tell me what’s going on with you.” 

“What do you mean?” she said, forcing a smile. “Why do you say that?”

“You know you can’t lie to me. I may not have super hearing, but I can tell, (Y/N).” 

“Yeah,” she chuckled softly. “You know me too well.” 

“Of course I do,” he smiled as he crossed the distance between them and caressed the softness of her cheek. “Now, please, tell me what’s wrong?” 

That was it. That was the moment that had changed them, the moment that had broken them. 

(Y/N) took a steadying breath and took his hands in hers, focusing on the veins on his hands rather than his worried eyes. “I got a letter last week,” she started with a sigh. “I told you about all the colleges I had applied to as early action.” 

“Of course, you bright mind, you,” he said. “Did you already start getting the acceptance letters?” 

“Uh, there’s another college I actually applied to. Early decision.”

“Like binding early decision?”

“Yeah, exactly,” she said, her voice trembling as she spoke. “I, uh, I applied to the University of Oxford. And I got in.”

Instead of embracing her, Stiles dropped her hands, taking a step away from her. “In England?” he asked as though he was offended. “Why would you wanna go that far?”

“It’s not about the distance,” she grimaced, finally meeting his hurt eyes. “It’s about what that school means. That’s where my dad went to school. That’s the place my parents met. That was the school that started my entire life, Stiles.” 

“So, why didn’t you tell me about it? If it was so damn important, why did you never mention it?” Stiles seethed, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “You wanna start a new life, is that it? Follow in your parents’ footsteps and meet the love of your life there? Great, (Y/N). And you made sure you did it in a way you couldn’t back out.”

“Stiles, that’s not…”

“So, what? Were you gonna wait until graduation to tell me that you were moving halfway across the world to get away from us? From me?” the boy cried. “Or were you simply going to disappear and start a new life without telling anyone? But I guess that’s your thing now, huh? Keeping big shit like this until you can’t anymore.”

“That’s not fair, Stiles,” she frowned, hugging her arms tightly across her torso. “I didn’t want to get my hopes up, so I didn’t say anything. That doesn’t mean that I would have never told you about it. I’m not looking to escape. I’m looking to start my future.” 

“And it looks like you were starting it without me then,” he croaked. “What does that mean for us, (Y/N)? We ride it out until graduation, and then you leave for the rest of your life?” 

“I don’t… you wanna b-break up?” 

“It’s inevitable now, isn’t it?” Stiles said in a tone that broke her more than the words he was speaking. “You’re gonna be in England, and I’m gonna be god knows where. It’s better just to do it now.” 

That night was nothing like she had imagined it would be. She had hoped Stiles would have been excited for her and promised her everything would be alright. That somehow he would have the answers to how they could withstand so much distance because they had to make it. Out of everyone in their friend group, those two had to make it. 

Instead, it had taken a turn for the worse. One second, Stiles was standing before her with a smile on his face, and the next, he was leaving through her window with tears streaming down his face. What she had most been dreading was that scenario to play out, and a week before their friend’s holiday party, it had. They had gone through life-threatening and mind-boggling situations, but it was a college acceptance letter that broke them apart. 

The coming days (Y/N) spent buried in bed. Although she should have been celebrating one of her biggest achievements –other than saving lives and defeating many, many creatures– she had wasted more tears during that time than she had done the past years of her life. She was distraught and defeated, and she had no idea how she would make it through the last semester of high school, much less how she would have made it through a Christmas party. 

Somehow, they had arrived at Scott’s house at the same time, even after she had made sure she left twenty minutes after Stiles. The universe liked to play its mean tricks, but that one was almost unforgivable. 

“Let’s just try to stay out of each other’s way,” he grimaced. “The less we are near each other, the harder it’ll be for them to find out.” 

“Harder to find out what?” Scott asked as he swung the front door open, his signature goofy grin stretched across his mouth. Instinctively, Stiles draped his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders and smiled brightly. “Ooh, did you bring your brownies, (Y/N)?” 

“Yeah,” she smiled. “Still warm from the oven.” 

“Wouldn’t be a party without them,” Stiles commented. “Now, let us in. It’s kinda cold out tonight.” 

The second they were inside, Stiles broke for the living room while (Y/N) moved to the kitchen with Scott. She set the tray on the overfilled kitchen island, noticing to the side that the dinner table was perfectly set up. “Oh, the table looks nice,” she commented. “But I thought we’d be doing something more low-key.” 

“Yeah,” he chuckled awkwardly. “Lydia thought it’d be fun to do a more grown-up dinner party.” 

“Yeah. Place settings and everything.” 

“We were waiting for you guys to start eating,” he said. “We’re doing gifts after.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

Slowly, the rest of the group trickled into the kitchen, greeting and hugging (Y/N) as they looked over all the food and served themselves their plates. And, of course, her seat was right next to Stiles’. Even if she had wanted to sit anywhere else, the rest had already taken their assigned seats, and the only open spot was the one that had her name. 

She gave her ex-boyfriend a small smile, looking anywhere but into the brown of his eyes. Her heart beat against her chest, threatening to jump out of her body. It made her fidgety as everyone ate, thinking any of the wereanimals around her would be able to tell how she was feeling. 

But Scott was laughing with Stiles, Malia was talking to Lydia, and Hayden, Liam, and Mason had their own conversation running. (Y/N) was all by herself. She was surrounded by all the people she loved, but it was the loneliest she had felt in a long time. Without the usual comforting words from Stiles, she couldn’t help but feel so out of place. It was the happiest time of the year, but the girl was miserable, and it hurt that it didn’t seem like the boy she loved was sad as well. 

“Alright,” Lydia spoke up as everyone ignored their mostly empty plates. “Now that our bellies are full, I think it’s time for Secret Santa! And I truly hope you all kept it a secret this time.” 

“Not that it’d matter anyway,” Liam chuckled. “We all know we ask for help every time.” 

“Anyways,” she said, ignoring the soft laughter that erupted from the group. “Let’s go to the living room, and (Y/N) you’ll go first.”

“Oh, uh, sure,” she smiled as she followed the group into the living room. She crouched under the decorated Christmas tree, pulling out the gift that had been there for almost two weeks. “I got Lydia.” 

“How wonderful!” the redhead mused, quick to hug her friend and rip away the wrapping paper. Inside the gift box was a mosaic picture of Lydia, Allison, and (Y/N), the first time they had finally considered each other friends. “Oh, it’s beautiful! I wish I could take it with me everywhere.” 

“It was hard to get it just right, but I loved how it turned out.” 

“It’s perfect, (Y/N),” she beamed. “Thank you.” 

“Of course. I love you, Lids.” 

“Love you too,” the girl said as she wrapped her friend in a tighter hug. “My turn!”

Lydia had gifted Liam nine books out of his TBR list —nine because of his lacrosse number. Then, Liam gifted Scott a new leather jacket so he could “actually look cool when riding his motorcycle,” Liam snickered. Scott then gifted Malia a light blue hoodie to add to her ever-growing collection, while Malia gifted Hayden a journal and pen set, saying it was for when her mind felt too busy. After a warm smile and a hug, she announced her gift was for Mason, laughing as he pulled out an ugly cat sweater. Once the loud laughter subsided, Mason gifted Stiles a massage mat for his Jeep. 

“For when you’re taking really long drives,” the boy smiled, clearly proud of himself. “There’s quite some distance between here and D.C. It’ll come in handy.” 

“Yeah,” he chuckled as he hugged Mason. “Thanks, man. It’s great.” 

“Don’t mention it.”

As Mason sat back down, Stiles cleared his throat as he pulled the last gift. Everyone knew by then who it was for. There was no one else left. “Well, I guess you all know who this is for,” he said. “I hope you like it, (Y/N).” 

The girl received the bag with a soft smile, trying her best to swallow the tears that were threatening to spill. She had forgotten for a second how cruel the universe could be. She pulled out the white tissue paper first before finding a beautiful brown bear dressed in a blue knit sweater. Around its neck, there was a necklace with something she could only assume was a soundwave. With curiosity washing over her, she looked to Stiles for an explanation. 

“Uh, so, it’ll make a lot more sense if you press the bear’s hand,” he stammered. Once she died as told, the sound broke her. From deep in the belly of the teddy bear, her father’s voice rang out, singing the words of “You Are My Sunshine.” There was not a single night when she was little that her father didn’t sing that to her, and even as she grew old for the lullaby, he would call her sunshine. “I got a recording from your mom of your dad singing the song when you were a baby,” Stiles spoke over the music. “And the necklace is the image of the soundwave of your dad calling you sunshine.” 

Tears had long since fallen down her cheeks, clutching the bear in her arms as though it was her own father. With her eyes closed, it was almost as though he was right there, singing to her. But it was what came after the song that shattered her. “You’re gonna do great things, (Y/N),” her father said through the bear. “I love you forever, my little sunshine.” 

At that moment, all she wanted to do was hug Stiles and kiss him like she had done a million times before. That was the boy she had fallen in love with. The one that cared and listened. The one that had made her heart race and her stomach turn into butterflies. She wanted to tell him she loved him and never let him go, but she couldn’t. Just like she could never do with her father. 

“I, uh,” she said as she stood from the couch, feeling as though she would faint in the crowded room. “I need some air.” 

(Y/N) stammered her way out of the living room and through the front door, only allowing herself to break down when she was at the end of the driveway. She fell to her knees and hugged the bear to her chest as she cried, letting the hurt that had accumulated over the years spill onto the pavement. In less than six months, she was going to walk into a new life halfway across the globe without the support of her father and now, without the support of Stiles. All alone. 

She should have been celebrating. She knew that. She should have been crying tears of joy and jumping into her love’s arms. Instead, it was the bear’s arms that she could feel. The softness of its fur, the sound of her father’s voice. 

Without even realizing it, she had begun singing along to the lullaby, sniffling between words as the tears didn’t relent. “You’re gonna do great things, (Y/N),” her father said once more through the bear. “I love you forever, my little sunshine.” 

“I love you too, dad,” she cried. 

“Hey,” his voice startled her. Through teary eyes, she looked up to find Stiles draping a jacket over her shoulders. He slid to the ground next to her, facing the house before them as she was now. “I’m sorry. I bought the gift weeks ago, and I wasn’t sure if I was still allowed to give it to you.” 

“No, it was… i-it was perfect,” she stammered, running her hand over the bear’s fur. “It’s just everything rushed over me. Like the breakup, the fact that I won’t be here next year, the fact that my dad won’t even see me gradua…”

Another string of sobs ransacked (Y/N)’s body, but that time it wasn’t the bear she was hugging. Stiles had wrapped his arms around her, pressing her into his chest. She could smell his cologne and feel his warmth, a feeling she had missed for the past seven days. All she wanted was to melt into his touch and profess to him all that she felt. But she couldn’t. Not anymore. Because he didn’t want it. 

“I didn’t want things to be this way,” she cried into his chest. “I didn’t want everything to fall apart.” 

Stiles remained quiet as she cried, a hard feat for someone like him. But he let her cry and cry until only quiet sniffles filled the air. Because he hadn’t wanted things to be that way either. 

He knew he had overreacted. When he had told (Y/N) his plans of enrolling in George Washington University all the way across the county, she had told him they could make it work. Especially if she got into any of the ivy leagues she had applied to on the East Coast. It had been fine. Hell, it had been perfect. 

But when she told him that she wouldn’t just be a couple of states away but that she would be on another continent, he couldn’t help but let his abandonment issues take control. 

He knew she was brilliant. He knew she deserved to do and be all that she had dreamed. But he feared that once she achieved all of her goals, he would just not fit into her life anymore. 

“You’re gonna go on to do great things, (Y/N),” he sighed sadly as her tears stopped. “You’re gonna go to Oxford, just like your parents, and you’re gonna probably graduate at the top of your class on your way. And I’ll be here —well, in Washington, technically—cheering you on.”

“But why couldn’t we be great together, Stiles? We couldn’t we both go on to do great things, together?”

“Come on, (Y/N). Once you’re there, you’re gonna meet so many people, and you’ll have guys falling on their knees for you,” he chuckled dryly. “I won’t fit into your new world. I mean, you said it yourself: that’s where your parents met and your life began. And now, maybe you’ll have a new beginning. And years from today, we’ll run into each other, and you’ll tell me about your job and your husband and your kids, and I’ll be so happy for you. Because you serve all the love and happiness in the world, even if it’s without me.”

“Have you even asked yourself if that’s what I want?” (Y/N) asked as she left his warm embrace, her red eyes boring into his. “I’m not leaving because I’m searching for a new life. I want to go to Oxford because it’s one of the last things I can share with my dad. I can walk down the same halls he did, I can take classes in the same classrooms, and eat at the same places he did. But I was always going to come back, Stiles. Because my friends are here, my mom is here, because you are here. I don’t want to run into you and talk about another man or the kids I would have with him. I don’t want to run into you at all. I want to walk beside you, Stiles. If I ever have kids, it’s only if they’re a part of you too,” she cried, fresh tears falling down her already-stained cheeks. “If you don’t love me anymore, then fine. I can understand that, and I can walk away. But don’t you dare say that you wouldn’t fit into my life because you’ve been there longer than anyone I know, and I need you to be there until the end. Because I already lost someone important to me and I can’t lose you too. Not you.” 

“(Y/N), I don’t want to lose you either,” he sobbed. “But how can we fight with the distance? How could we ever withstand the fact that we’ll be an ocean away?”

“We have gone through worse battles than a plane ride, Stiles. We have been on the brink of death more times this past year than any person would in their lifetime. Do you really think being in a different time zone is the limit to our relationship? I know the future isn’t promised but you were the one person I always knew would be there.”

“I’m scared, okay?! I’m scared that you’ll meet someone better than me, (Y/N). I’m terrified that you’ll realize that maybe I’m not the guy that can give you your happy ever after,” he finally confessed. His voice croaked, and his chest heaved as the words fell out of his mouth faster than he could ever stop them. “This week has been torture without you. But it’s made me realize that Beacon Hills has always been too small for you. After May, you’re gonna go out there and find your place. And this town will be nothing but a memory you’ll come back to.”

“There is no one better for me than you, Stiles, and Beacon Hills will always be my home,” she replied softly. Her cold hand found his cheek, and she wiped away his tears with her thumb. “I don’t want to know a life where you’re not there. You can’t give up on us without even trying, Stiles. You just can’t.” 

Without thinking twice, (Y/N) crashed her lips onto his, sinking into the warmth of his mouth. After a week, kissing him felt like the very first time. It was desperate and filled with need —the need for closeness and passion, the need for love. Instinctively, Stiles’ hands found her waist and pulled her closer to him, wondering how he ever thought he could live without her touch. 

“I love you, Stiles, and I don’t even want to think about ever having to love someone else,” she whispered as she parted from him. “My heart belongs to you. And if this is the end, it’ll still remain in your hands.” 

“I couldn’t love anyone else like I love you, (Y/N),” he replied with a soft smile. “But I just can’t help the thoughts that flood my brain sometimes.” 

“Then don’t listen to them and listen to me when I say that since the moment I met you, I’ve known you were it for me. There is no other man waiting for me in Oxford. It’s you, and it will always be you,” (Y/N) said before kissing him softly once more. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me, Stiles Stilinski, and you’re the only thing that I want to keep happening to me.”

“I can’t believe I ever broke up with you. Especially during Christmas,” Stiles chuckled as he rested his forehead against hers, flicking the tip of her nose with his own. “It was honestly the worst week of my life.” 

“Including being possessed?” Scott’s voice startled them as he came into view. “Although, I get it because this was completely avoidable.”

(Y/N) chuckled as she took Scott’s extended hand and got on her feet, wiping away any tears that still remained. “Did you hear that whole thing?”

“More or less,” he chuckled. “It’s a bit hard not to when I was coming to see if you guys were okay.” 

“We’re good now, Scotty,” Stiles grinned. “Just had some unresolved feelings to work, though.” 

“Can you not mention the whole thing about the breakup? I don’t wanna make it a whole thing.”

“That’s a bit hard, (Y/N),” Malia called from the open front door. “We all kind of already know.”

“Oh, cool, great,” she said as she hid in Stile’s embrace. “That’s not embarrassing at all.”

“Eh, at least our parents are back together,” Liam commented. “Best Christmas present.” 

“It really is, huh?” Stiles whispered as he kissed the top of her head. 

“Yes. Very cute and adorable,” Lydia added in a desperate tone. “Now, can we go back inside before Hayden and Mason finish all the brownies?”

As the group walked back into the house, Stiles and (Y/N) shared one more moment together on the front porch. “Hey, look up,” Stiles said with a smile. “Mistletoe.”

“Funny that they’d hang that at a werewolf's home,” she chuckled. “Although, I’m pretty sure that one’s plastic.”

“And I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to kiss me.”

“Maybe I’m waiting for another guy to kiss under the plant.” Stiles frowned at her words, and all she could do was laugh. “Too soon?”

“Much,” he said. “Now, come here.”

He snaked his hands on either side of her face and kissed her passionately. He kissed her for every day they had spent apart. He kissed her for every hurtful word he had spewed. He kissed her as a promise of his love for her. Stiles kissed her like she was his future. 

Next ->

My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts  or buy me a coffee to support me and my love of writing If you’d like to be tagged in every 12DoF work, any fandom or story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!

Taglist:@bellabadacadabra@winter-soldier-101@zheezs14@cevans-winchester @andreiafaaria @bluetreecloud20@sunshine2894@skyesthebomb@esposadomd@blueshoelaces@then-worship-at-my-altar@yuki254

@honeylovemoon @beckiej0073-blog @baebeepeach @cecehensonn @catgirlpwr@magimtz23@perle-noir22@adaydreamaway08@hufflepuffobsessedwithmarvel@thatgirljayy@sugasthreedollarkookie @laylaskywalker @fandomonetwo @fruitylilfuck @haroldpotterson@yaskna@elijahssuit@ellabellabus07@scarletdfox@halleest@sunflowerleii@shara-ne@nngkay @mar @saltedcoffeescotch @thecollectorofwords @gabi-princesada1d @zealouscookierebeltrash@sleepilysworld@laylasbunbunny@treatiseofselena @american-sataness @brittany-appleyard24 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187@ivory-raptor@euphoria1992 @hopexargent @druigsluver29 @fresita1218 @the-house-of-rose-and-ember@elizabeth916@heccatee@cerejinha

@caosfanblr @heartfilia01 @shadowwolfqueen @jinxxangel13 @arcaurix @cheshirecat484 @venusesworld

[herefortheships]

What do you think of the Bj and Lydia controversy due to age?

You know, the short answer I have for this is that I do not think it should be an issue that's even brought up anymore. Lydia is now an adult woman in her 50s; plenty of people end up with a partner who is 10+ years older than them, meaning that they would have been a full adult if they would have come across their partner at sixteen. And that's just speaking about the real world; let's not forget Beetlejuice and the characters in that world are all a work of fiction. I don't think the fact that they met when she was a teenager all those years ago should even be an issue to ship it or not. As a matter of fact, people can ship whatever they want. They can even ship it in the first film and it's not an issue... Shipping in itself is inherently innocent. These characters and the situations around them don't even exist, and therefore, whatever you imagine with them, has no effect in the real world. Shipping is no different from a kid grabbing a couple of dolls and making them kiss. It's all in good fun.

Let me tell you, I had written a long freaking essay under this question 😅, but I decided to leave all of that for a separate post. But a few notable points from that essay which I think would be good to include here are the following.

Back in the 90s and early 2000s we had ships with pretty big age gaps on network TV and nobody batted an eye about the age gap (as far as I'm concerned). I'm talking about Buffy the Vampire Slayer specifically in this post. This was before social media, but as far as magazines and fandom spaces go, I'm sure the discussions around Buffy's love interests in BTVS centered around which hot vampire was better for Buffy, Angel or Spike. (Even nowadays we see this kind of article, exhibit A). And you don't see these articles starting with disclaimers and trigger warnings, either.

For those who haven't watched BTVS, Angel was around 240-something when he slept with 17 year old Buffy. He slept with her the night she turned 17, by the way; they were already together while she was 16. At the time he was turned into a vampire, Angel was around 26 years old. Angel met Buffy when she was 16, but he was stalking watching Buffy since she was 15:

Now about Spike. Spike met Buffy when she was 16, but he didn't actually become obsessed with her until she was around 20. Still, they got together and it wasn't ever an issue that he met her when she was a teenager. In Spike's case, he did stick around and interacted with Buffy multiple times before they started dating. In Betelgeuse's case, we know that while he watched Lydia from afar, he never actually managed to interact or even be seen by her during the years they were apart.

A lot of antis throw around the word "grooming" around Beetlebabes; I don't think they understand the meaning of that word. To put it simple, to groom someone is to condition them and emotionally manipulate them for years into a certain behavior, in this context, into falling in love or becoming sexually involved with the groomer. This term, therefore, cannot and will not ever apply to Betelgeuse and Lydia's relationship (it also does not apply to Spuffy, while we're at it). How can it? When they only had a few interactions over 30+ years ago and only met now after all that time.

And about those interactions in the first movie, the fact that Betelgeuse attempted to marry Lydia is attached to an idea of sexual inappropriateness only when that particular idea is projected onto what actually happened in that scene. Objectively, for Betelgeuse, marrying Lydia was a means to an end; there was no sexual or romantic implications in their marriage in that movie.

I believe in the case of Betelgeuse x Lydia versus ships like Buffy x Angel or Buffy x Spike, people are quick to see an issue in one where they never notice an issue in the other for the following reason: While Angel and Spike are hot, young-looking vampires, Betelgeuse is gross and does look like a dead guy. That is literally the difference. Spike and Angel are good-looking hotties; Betelgeuse... I love him lots and he is hot for me, but he is not conventionally attractive. I bet you if Betelgeuse looked like Michael Keaton did playing Bruce Wayne... People wouldn't have an issue that he's lusting after 50-something year old Winona Ryder, (also a hottie herself btw).

Let's add here before I close off this post that both Angel and Spike did objectively horrible things to Buffy when they were soulless (Angel while Buffy was still a minor), and meanwhile Betelgeuse has never harmed Lydia (no, the insta-pregnancy didn't harm her; everything that happened in that scene was an illusion). He didn't even behave inappropriately toward her in the first film when he was wilder and hornier than he is now. And yet shipping Bangel or Spuffy (last I checked lol) isn't widely seen as problematic. I ship Spuffy to the moon and back, and used to ship Bangel as well at some point 🤷🏻‍♀️ and I haven't seen people attacking shippers nor have I seen discussions of these ships being inappropriate (though I'm sure there must be... it's 2024 and the purity culture fandom infection has spread widely), not in the way I see Beetlebabes fans being harassed.

Anyway, I wrote a separate post about this and will post it eventually. This wasn't meant to be this long, but here we are 😅.

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High Junior Year Ep 17

It’s Emily Axford’s World, We’re Just Living in It

Welcome back to Fantasy High where this monster 3+ hour bombshell of an episode is dropping during one of the busiest weeks of my life! There is SO much going on in this episode that I’m absolutely going to have to speed through things to get this out before the next episode but I’ll try to hit on all of the most important points. OK, ready, set, let’s go!

We closed out last ep in the middle of downtime where we learned that Jace had a scar from being infected with a rage crystal shatter star and from there we still have a bunch more downtime to get through. Highlights!

Riz investigates the footage from the crystal cam and again has the feeling that he needs to go back to his office and check out any open-ended clues because he’s missing something. 

Gorgug tries to work on a way to harness the power of the Night Yorb’s darkness since it’s trapped in his van since they’ll probably be fighting a solar deity soon. He does mention it to Henry but not why he’s doing it. He also looks into the Cloud Rider and confirms with the Aviation Club goblin kid that it would be powerful enough to lift the Hangman (referring not to the motorcycle, but to Bill’s ship which is now Seacaster manor). 

Fig writes another Ankarna themed song and rolls an insane 37. That’s powerful enough that she’s able to commune with Ankarna in her dreams. She calms the distressed Ankarana with the paladin spell Atonement and by commiserating that both of their girlfriends are “out of town”. Ankarna calls Fig her hero and says that “She’s always known” before she wakes up. 

Fig keeps haunting Ruben's dreams but they're abjured so she can't straight up talk to him. In his dream, she sees his house in Elmville and feels rage as well as fear. She sees a glade in Far Haven Woods and a scared pre-emo Ruben which makes her think that that's where they did whatever they did to kick things off and that maybe the old Ruben is still trapped somewhere. 

She then goes full Emily Axford and–along with the help of Fabian, British Kristen, Gorgug, and Adaine–goes to Ruben’s house and FAKES THE DEATH OF WANDA CHILDA BY KIPPERLILLY. Once she’s “dead” Adaine casts Enlarge on Gorgug and throws a cloak on him so he can take her away the in the same way Buddy’s body was taken away. It’s the performance of a lifetime with a 34 but the craziest part is they know someone was watching through the window but they have no idea who it was. InSANE. Imagine if it’s just Kipperlilly watching from Ruben’s window like ???????

Finally she gets Eugenia to design a tattoo for Fabian’s bday that will let him cast Ghost Step. She’s gonna secretly tattoo it on him because sure why not. 

Kristen talks to a very stressed Jawbone who has been dealing with a lot of angry kids lately which is, como se dice, troubling considering the whole rage god situation. She downloads him on everything going on and reveals that she was gonna try to have British Kristen steal files so she can see if the addresses of the angry kids form a 24 pointed star but instead she helps Jawbone clean his office and asks if she can have the addresses. He can’t give out student info but he says he’ll check a map and see if they form a star as well as checking on Jace. Kristen tells him to be super careful because the last teacher they talked to was Yolanda, RIP. (He also mentions the Sophomore Year Hotel Cav fight as being a weird thing that happened and the murder attempt of Lydia–things that we’ve already flagged as loose ends. We’ll get back to this).

Bobby Dawn is freaking out because they can’t find Buddy’s soul in corn heaven. Kristen reveals that he’s not in corn heaven and in fact is following a new god (after confirming he doesn’t have a rage crystal). Bobby Dawn thinks he’s being punked–especially once Kristen says the new god is her god’s ex-wife–but Kristen is being pretty sincere (so sincere that Murph is melting into a puddle anticipating she’s about to give the game away to one of their least fave NPCs–imo, she didn’t give away anything game ending but she was def playing with fire). Bobby tells Kristen to call him if there’s anything he can do to help find Buddy and Kristen dips to go talk to “[her] friend Murph.” Not Riz, Murph the irl guy, lol. As that happens, Bobby goes to have a whisper convo with his wife Pam who is also there. Suspicious.  

Riz/Murph makes the connection that Lake Shimmerstone is called that because of the gem filaments that flow from the Mountains of Chaos. It's a classic "no rolls necessary" moment. 

Kristen finally checks the bylaws and sees that the major change made was that there is no longer any inaugural period post election. So once the votes are counted, whoever wins is president right away. It was a change by Mazey requested by a faculty member--they think Jace. 

Kristen checks on her brother finally and it doesn't seem like he has a rage crystal but he's pretty bummed that he hasn't been able to convert any of his friends despite being a good paladin. He's also having a little existential crisis because he has non Helioic friends who don't actually seem like scary heathens. But then he was warned that sin might be tempting. Kristen tells him that she understands and that he has to decide whether he knows himself better than their parents. She says she's always around to talk. She then does a Relaxation roll and loses 3 stress tokens! Brennan also has her roll a d6 for the Relationship track roll with Buddy and on a 6, loses her final stress token!

Like Fig, Kristen also gets to commune with her goddess. Cass says that she's trapped and the king will come to Spyre. She says her wife's "fiery hand" grasps her in death and she has to protect her from the upcoming destruction--but she can't do it as herself. She tells Kristen that Ankarna has a champion as well and when Kristen asks who Cass says she already knows the champion. Finally, she urges her to look into what Kalina said because there was to be a good reason for her saying Ragh’s name. 

I’m going to leave the bullets for a moment (largely because Tumblr gets mad at blocks of text that are too big) to say that Adaine and Fig go to Ayda’s geocache and find an insane amount of spell components which would have been super useful earlier in the year. It also has instruments for Fig including a new bass that Brennan says he’ll get Emily the item card for ASAP. Back to bullets!

In his research, Riz finds the location in the Mountains of Chaos of the Temple of the Fallen Sun where Lydia's party members stopped in their travels. 

Riz looking into the Loam files sees that the person they're after must have had some ability to stun their opponents which is probably the reason for the lack of defensive wounds. He also learns that Ruvina's festival was called the Festival of Frost which sounds a lot like Frosty Fair. 

He finds some text about something called the War of Shattered Stones which apparently took place around when Ankarna's domain changed. 

On a hunch that there is more going on with the rat grinding than meets the eye, the whole gang takes a field trip to Lake Shimmerstone and Riz finds evidence that at some point the Rat Grinders were taken here while a massive giant was fighting deadly monsters. That doesn’t make sense so they call in some rats to question who tell them that there was a giant fighting these monsters and basically leaving the killing blows to the Rat Grinders so they’d get the XP–which is mechanically insane diegetically but we’re gonna ignore that. The rats also confirm that this was when Lucy was still around. The Bad Kids think that the RG’s made a deal with this giant (who the rats say is a guy btw) to get powered up and they got crystals as their end of the bargain. 

OK, that basically wraps up downtime. One more piece of business before we head to the Temple of the Fallen Sun! Zara has a talk with Fig where after heaping praise on her, she passes along a message–the appearance of a surprise meteor shower which was arranged by Ayda and is the most romantic thing ever. I won’t recap it, just watch it yourself. I can’t do it justice. Before Fig leaves for some hot tub time, Zara asks about Fig’s evaluation and Fig assures her she already turned it in. 

Time for a griffon road trip! And strap in because this is a MEATY lore dump. Sandra Lynn brings everyone on griffons to the Temple of The Fallen Sun and Riz brings his files because he can’t shake the feeling that he’s missing something. 

They find this infernal temple littered with humanoid bones and Fig can tell with her divine sense that it's a temple to Ankarna. There is a place where Ankarna’s name was destroyed and replaced with a Ranger’s symbol that says: Do Not Enter. Fallen Temple. There’s also evidence that someone tried to rewrite Ankarna’s name but it’s not her actual name. It’s the glyph that means her but isn’t her actual name. Which suggests that there’s a group of Ankarna followers that are trying to do stuff involving her but that don’t know her name. 

Everyone who can loads up on Truesight and See Invisibility before they enter the temple. There are a bunch of pretty good Investigation checks but, in particular, Riz gets a 32 and Fig gets a Nat 20.

Fig sees a vision (and Adaine can see it too--I assume as elven oracle she can just piggyback on anyone else having visions lol) of two giantkin wearing robes with a sun emblem being executed by armored individuals wearing robes with a fiery emblem on it. This temple was built right when Ankarna's domain was changing. They’re seeing the old priests of Ankarna being executed by the new ones. 

It's clear that this temple was built as a part of a state religion--the focus on conquest and strength is very empire-y. Adaine sees some writing in Giant and casts Comprehend Language so she can read it. There’s a bunch about the War of Shattered Stone and some new stuff about the temple being built for the glory of the House of Sunstone. They walk through the temple and see all this awful equipment for torture and execution. They get the sense that this is where Ankarna was changed. Her new followers did a bunch of heinous stuff in her name to force her to become infernal. As above, so below and all. 

Adaine casts Legend Lore and Brennan basically salivates. 30 seconds later, Riz rolls a Nat 20 to Investigate his files. So we’re about to crack this whole thing wide open folks. Let’s do this!

Fig and Kristen explore a chamber and Kristen's shards glow so bright she has to wrap fabric around them so they don't hurt peoples' eyes. They realize that their goddesses have been in this room together before. It's where they got divorced. Fig sees a vision of a bunch of Cass's followers dropping their weapons and backing up slowly and then being brutally slaughtered by the new guard of Ankarna. 

Adaine's Legend Lore starts: Sunstone was the top clan of the giants and conquered all the others--Thunderfist, Hornspear, Moonspeak, and Frostblade (Lucy’s ancestors). Ships got better which meant people started mingling and so did their gods. Ankarna and Cassandra got married. Things were good for a while but the leaders of the church of Sol didn't like having two sun gods in their pantheon so they whispered in the ears of some of the Sunstone guys that maybe conquest was the way to go (this was when they started conquering the other clans).  

Clan Frostblade rose up to fight because Ruvina was so concerned with stopping her sister and at the sundering of the Cliff's of Colcath, House Sunstone was destroyed. 

At this point, Riz realizes the thing he was missing in his files and it’s the thing we noticed ages ago. The weird moment in Sophomore Year. How did Ragh get cursed so he could see Kalina in the first place? Brennan plays the clip, looking like the cat who ate the canary. Porter did “Barbarian Healing” on him. That’s not a real thing. Lay on Hands is though. Porter is the one who infected Ragh. Emily, who has hated this man from day one, is LIVING. 

Back to the Legend Lore: The sundering of the Cliffs of Colcath. Sundering as in breaking. As in Cliffbreaker–Porter’s last name. 

They start putting things together. Him telling Fig he's a paladin to his ancestors. Gorgug sees him smite a giant stone with the force that would be needed to fell a bunch of trees in the woods. Disasuding Fig from being a paladin of Cass. His connection to Jace from the start. The large figure healing Buddy? He’s big as hell and Paladins can revivify. And Ankarna telling Fig that she’s known all along. 

The Legend Lore Concludes: After the sundering at the cliffs, the remaining Sunstones changed their names (to Cliffbreaker) and went into hiding. The Frostblades destroyed Ankarna's name to free her from the corruption (but I guess that went a little too far and backfired). The name was lost but a lot of Ankarna's true followers waited for her return. That includes Bakur who the Bad Kids realize was trying to bring back not infernal, ragey Ankarna but sunny justice Ankarna. But he was stopped by her mortal followers. 

Sandra Lynn watching all of this is like, “Well shit,” and points out that if the world isn’t already in chaos they must not have everything they need yet. The Bad Kids figure the opposition must be missing the name and a successful election. The election is in four days so that’s how long they have to stop it. In one final sick fusion of bard and paladin, Fig uses a riff from her base to uncover an older image of Ankarna and Cassandra pre-corruption and then they head back home. 

(Note: This comes up later retroactively but before they leave, they also check for footprints and see recent ones of Porter, Jace, and Buddy. It looks like they teleported in.)

Kristen casts Sending to warn Jawbone that Porter is bad news and then they speculate some more. There was a question in an earlier episode about what does it actually mean that Ankarna died in the Red Waste. They figure out that it means that the last follower who remembered her name was killed there. 

They talk to Bakur who says again that he was betrayed by Ankarna’s mortal followers. He also mentions that even in her infernal state, she would refuse to grant her followers spells when they had plans to hurt her sister or wife (even when Ruvina’s followers were attacking her). 

Bakur realized that Ankarna's followers were interested in her power but not in her. Bakur also overheard conversation from Lydia's party that said that Ankarna needed to be remade in a place where a god has been borne. A god. Any god. Riz flashes back to Kipperlilly Jawbone asking where Yes! was borne. 

Fig with some help from Adaine makes a fake version of Ankarna's name to give to Porter--Bacharath written in Giant. While Fig goes to give this to Porter, Adaine is hiding outside with Detect Thoughts on and Riz is hiding nearby invisible and recording.

Fig finds Porter and tells him and she found a new god and found her name but it’s annoying because she can’t read Giant which she needs to do to rez the god. She does it really casually and acts like it’s no big deal and Porter tries to play it cool but Adaine can tell with her Detect Thoughts that he’s chomping at the bit to get that name. She makes sure that Fig crits on her Deception with a portent. He (not at all) causally offers to help Fig translate and snatches the piece of paper from her. Fig then challenges him to spar and he agrees. Brennan asks for a Con roll and when Porter stomps his foot, everyone is immediately stunned (remember the mention of the stun effect and not defensive wounds earlier). Everyone but Riz who rolled a Nat 20. So he keeps his Invisibility. He also gets a high enough luck check to feel that there is someone else invisible nearby, close to Fig and Porter (note: later, Brennan tells Adaine that while she had Detect Thoughts up, for a moment she could detect the thoughts of an invisible KP). 

The last thought Adaine gets from Porter as her concentration drops on Detect Thoughts is, “Did I lock the office?”

Porter helps Fig up and doesn’t actually fight her but it feels like they just saw Porter do a Legendary Action which is a weird thing for a teacher to do–even a strong one. Fig asks what the hell that was and Porter plays it coy, saying senior year is gonna be really exciting. Riz is absolutely not having that non-answer and Misty Steps into Porter’s office. With his high investigation, he just finds everything so back to bullets:

There’s a note where he’s intimidating Halo St. Croix (the paladin teacher) into letting him teach the multiclass paladins. 

There are MCATs signed for him to teach both Lucy and Buddy paladin lessons. 

There’s an encrypted message between Porter and Bobby Dawn where Bobby is basically saying he’s very happy for Sol to remain the ONLY god of the sun in town but a new war god? That could be OK. He also suggests Porter look into Devil’s Honey for his plan. 

There's medicine to help with a psychosomatic allergic to feline dandruff (prob Kalina related). 

There’s filo dough–the kind you use to make baklava (a honey based dessert). 

There’s a leather cord, probably used in the casting of Spy’s Tongue Curse than smells rank. 

There are tons of blenders full of whey, protein powder, and ambrosia–food of the gods. Together, they piece together that mortals aren’t supposed to eat ambrosia because it kills them. Not in a violent way–they just ascend to the afterlife. They figure that Porter is basically eating god supplements, with the intention of supplanting Ankarna and becoming the new god of rage. Explains why he suddenly has legendary actions. 

There’s some cryptic, vague communication with the Rat Grinders which doesn’t give much away but is enough to tip them off that Ruben’s house is the place where they plan things. 

With that they go to investigate Ruben’s place. Before they go, Riz sets up a dead man’s switch that will release evidence if he doesn’t stop it–just in case they get trapped or held up or something. Adaine also calls her sister so she can cast a bunch of protective wards on Fabian’s place–she’s a master abjuration wizard after all. 

Riza goes in first and disables all the traps in Ruben’s house which means they won’t get caught but the RG’s will know someone was there later. Here’s everything they find and, like the rest of this episode, it’s a lot:

Adaine finds Oisin’s workstation and most notably finds a picture of his dragon ancestor hanging out with Kalvaxus, some notes about the Cloud Rider, and notes about stealing summons from other people (remember Adaine's mephits going haywire at Fabian's party). There's also some notes about a way to write telekinetically on the inside of a sphere. They’re not sure what that means. 

In Ruben's sound studio, they find notes from Porter helping Ruben write the song Get Mad--the song he did at Frosty Fair. 

Gorgug hacks into their private servers and sees all their communications. KP insists that they only call Cass the Nightmare King and (presumably) refers to Porter as the "Big Guy". She says he wants the Nightmare King and should have her locked down sooner rather than later just as soon as she shows herself in the Astral Plane. There's also stuff from last year where KP is really excited. She says the Big Guy has been looking out for them for a while and she's hyping Lucy up saying she gets to be the champion (something we know she didn't want). KP is specifically excited that this will allow them to keep up with the Bad Kids. Jace is also mentioned as a conspirator under the acronym JSD which isn’t slick at all lol.

Kristen sees evidence of Buddy helping with a ritual and stuff about where a god was "borne" (spelled correctly) so clearly they know a lot about what's going on. She also finds out what KP wants to do once she's President: she wants to shut down Aguefort as a school forever which will nullify the protections and wards it has centered on it, the big one being that Elmville can't be moved to any other plane of existence while school is in session. They think the Rat Grinders want to teleport the whole town–perhaps to set up a divine domain. Which would need followers–specifically angry followers. IDK about y’all but I feel like being randomly teleported to the Astral Plane would make ME pretty angry. 

There are texts post Lucy but pre Buddy where they're like what are we gonna do now? There's a "We're all in this together now" vibe (like some kind of twisted High School Musical) and they resolve to "talk to the Big Guy"

We learn Buddy was chosen for the same reason Lucy was a good candidate–connection to Ankarna. Lucy because Ruvina was her sister and Buddy because of similar domains (Helio’s domain is a Solar offshoot). Also I didn’t mention this before but Buddy did *not* know what he was doing. Oisin and Ivy are joking about his cluelessness behind his back (Booooo I was rooting for you dude). 

There’s a message from Jace telling them to stop antagonizing the Bad Kids even though they want revenge which leads the Bad Kids to question what they ever did to them. 

In Oisin's room they also find a lot of stuff about dragons and an image of a fetal god being protected by the Nightmare King. Also they remember how cloudy the Nightmare King's realm was (maybe a cloud rider connection?) 

Deep breath, this is a lot of stuff and we’re almost done. 

There's stuff about the Thistulespring tree and Ruben’s song spreading the rage vibes that represent the crystals in the ground. 

They realize that Porter is probably using the Devil's Honey to lie to Ankarna about his intentions as he's communicating with her.

They see that for the ritual they needed a body (Porter), Ankarna's name, the protective storm of the NIghtmare King, and his name inscribed by the champion of the old goddess. They realize that’s why Zara never got her eval. Fig is the champion and she did Porter and Zara’s eval on the same sheet which he swiped for this ritual. He literally made Fig a paladin so he could get what he needed. Diabolical. Aguefort needs better hiring practices. 

OK. Phew. Finally done. They head out and the next day is election day. Porter isn’t at school that day which is not surprising but is concerning. They don’t see the RG’s either. After school it’s time for the big party/election at Fabian’s place. Mazey gets a booth set up and Jawbone is there as faculty to make it legit. Aelwyn has warded up the place. Fig is there as Wanda cause she’s a maniac. Adaine is casting Detect Magic continually at the voting booth to watch for shenanigans. Also Ragh shows up and he aced his tryouts! He’s gonna be a profesh bloodrush player! Hoot growl all around!

But Riz (and honestly Murph) is unsettled. Everyone’s at this party where Fabian’s victory is a sure thing? All in one location together? Rat Grinders nowhere to be seen? This is WAY too easy.  

Which is Brennan’s cure to drop the other shoe. 

Things are just like Adaine's visions...until they're not. The sky was always clear in her visions and now storm clouds are brewing. She gets a Sending spell from someone, "You didn't see the storm coming? Must not be a very good Oracle." Oisin. Suddenly, ping pong balls with runes inside of them start raining down from where they've been stuck in the unkept Seacaster manor for months. From when Oisin "missed" his shots. Telekinetic writing inside a sphere. Runes inside ping pong balls. As they fall, there's a sudden lurch. Winds kick up and Seacaster manor is flying above Elmville. Everyone rolls initiative! 

I’m not doing proper Honor Roll/Detention this week because this was such a long episode and I'm exhausted. Honestly, Honor Roll for me for getting this up in time. Detention for Fabian for not using is 10k gold allowance to have someone clean his house in the past 9 months. 

Random Notes

Gonna just stick to a few plot relevant ones to keep this brief. 

Re: Adaine not seeing the storm in the same way that the previous oracle couldn't. I wonder if that’s just a blanket thing that weather evades predictions or if they did the same thing that was done during Kal’s plan to evade that oracle's sight before Aelwyn sunk her ship.

I don’t think I made it clear but Porter def killed Yolanda according to this ep. 

Porter’s Legendary Action is able to stun someone for multiple rounds which in combat would be devastating. 

I’m shocked they never tried to talk to Ruvina at any point during the campaign. 

I am still VERY concerned about Riz being made staff by Jace and given silver. That feels suspicious given we know he’s on Team Porter Ascension. 

I didn’t get into it because it was nebulous and would have messed with the flow of the recap but there was something there about teleportation circles and the Rat Grinders continually casting teleport to make a circle and maybe that’s how they’re gonna get Elmville into the Astral Plane. Just mentioning it in case it comes up again.

I don’t think we got closure on the “where the god was borne” thing. Because borne means carried, not created, right? I wonder if Seacaster manor would count because the corpse of Yes! Was brought there by Ankarna. 

The Rat Grinders and Porter have at least 2 obstacles they don’t know about. They don’t have the real name (unless they got in since Fig gave Porter the fake one) and Fig is literally domain squatting on Ankarna’s domain. She already called dibs so any claiming will have to go through her. 

I think it’s really nice that Adaine tried to do a relaxation track for Kristen. Handshake meme, her and Riz.

Emily insisting so hard and consistently that Porter was evil that Brennan just made him evil has some real as above/so below energy lol.