#not sure if i didn't talk to everyone the first time or what

[bluetimeombre]

۶ৎ Mess of a man.

| Joel didn’t know why he’d let his little brother convince him a night at the bar was what he needed. But he might need to listen to him more. Smut!

[this is pure FILTH. I don’t know what came over me, I need this out my system and I need Joel in mine STAT. If you’re a minor pls don’t interact, this is not a safe space.]

Warnings; language, drinking, age gap (Joel is in his late forties, reader is 21) masturbation reference, daddy, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, oral (both receiving), over stimulation, come eating?let me know if I’ve missed anything

"Still haven't gotten your dick wet, huh?" was Tommy's way of greeting his brother.

Joel grumbled something, propping his foot on the coffee table in front of him. "Get lost, Tommy."

He'd thought that with his daughter, Sarah, at summer camp he'd get six weeks of peace, get work done, maybe take his daughter somewhere nice when she got back. But he forgot he had a brother and he forgot how annoying he was.

Sure, six weeks without his kid was a perfect and maybe a once-in-a-lifetime to get his dick 'wet' as Tommy put it. But he'd been out the game for years, out of practise. He wouldn't know how or who to approach.

"C'mon, what kind of brother would I be if I let you mope around alone in the house," he said, whacking Joel on the shoulder.

"A good one." Joel took a swing of his beer, watching the sport without knowing what team was doing what.

Tommy turned off the tv and snatched away Joel's beer, getting him up from the sofa. "There's a bar I know where everyone looking to get fucked goes, c'mon."

Joel decided he didn't want to know how his brother knew this place but as Tommy was already grabbing his truck keys and heading out the door. He'd be damned if he let Tommy drive his truck.

Yeah... that was why he was going...

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The bar was already loud when he and Tommy got there and ordered their beers. Joel would have one, maybe another if he was here long enough but then he'd go home and... see to himself if he had to.

It would have been nice to have something for the evening. It had been a long time and his own fist wasn't enough. He had a pick if he needed, he guessed. He wasn't immune to all the single middle aged mom's around him that would talk to him on the school drop off, invite him to one of their garden parties. Even some with rings on their fingers always lingered too long when shaking his hand or asking for some 'construction' advice.

But none of them did anything for him.

Tommy patted his brother on the back as he winked at the lady behind the bar. "See anything you like, yet?"

They'd been there... what? Ten minutes.

Then yes, he saw something he liked and his jaw almost dropped.

Tommy spotted the way he stilled and followed his gaze. "Holy shit."

You were with three girls- your friends, Joel assumed- and a guy hanging onto you, an arm draped around your hips. You were nursing a drink, laughing with your friends, tongue darting out to the straw of your cocktail.

Joel was done. He knew it immediately.

You were only twenty-one, young and beautiful and worse, Sarah's baby-sitter. Sure, his daughter was fourteen but on the late nights he had to work he didn't like to leave her alone.

Enter you. Good grades, polite, always called him Mr Miller like it wasn't the hottest thing. You stayed every night Joel needed to work, you cooked for Sarah, even ensured there was left overs for Joel and Tommy sometimes.

You'd tidy when he never asked, you never drank the beers he left for you. You were perfect.

And Joel knew, the first day you'd baby-sat his daughter over a year ago he'd made a mistake. He knew it when he watched you walk down his porch, when he started offering you lifts home and wishing you'd accept, when he had a wet dream like a horny teenager and it was you under him.

This was some cruel joke.

As if you could hear his thoughts your eyes caught over the noise of the bar. There was shock registering first and then you were dismissing your group to walk over to the Millers.

Joel gulped when he spotted what you were wearing. A tight high collared shirt, your hair pinned and the shortest skirt with heels.

Like a present to be un-wrapped...

"If it isn't the Miller brothers," you grinned.

"Hey darlin'," Tommy greeted first, reaching up to give you a small hug.

Joel's jaw clenched as you hugged him back. But Tommy was respectful, hands staying high on your body. Better than Joel would do.

You pulled away and smiled at Joel. "Mr Miller."

He nodded, taking a swig of his beer as he watched your tongue dart out in search for the straw. Fuck.

Tommy held a hand on your back. "I gotta take a leak, keep him company would you."

Joel didn't know what kind of game his little brother was playing.

"Of course," you smiled, sliding into the seat Tommy had vacated. "Don't I strive to look after the Millers."

Tommy chuckled and winked at Joel as he disappeared into the crowd.

"Hi there," he drawled.

You smiled. Maybe it was the lighting, or the alcohol, but your eyes were darker than he'd ever noticed. "Hey. Didn't expect to see you here tonight."

"Sarah's at camp," he said. He was painfully aware you knew. You hadn't been around in two weeks because he'd had no reason to ask you. Well, no appropriate reason.

"She enjoying it?" you threw a leg over yours, grazing his leg as you did.

"Think so," he said, "what about you, huh? Enjoyin' your freedom?"

You chuckle. "You know I love working for you, Mr Miller."

"Joel," he corrected you. He took a swing of his beer, watching you watch him.

"Jo-el," you draw out his name.

Something in Joel stirred, his pants couldn't be growing tighter, right? Thank god for the dim lighting.

He cleared his throat. "So this is where the kids hang out these days, huh?"

"I dunno about kids?" you said, leaning your body over slightly. "Am I a kid?"

Joel let his eyes wander down. The expanse of your legs, the skirt riding up your thighs and the way your chest rose and fell with your breath. Then slowly, he trailed back up your body. "I guess not."

Of all those times he'd watched you from the porch, you'd always looked back at him at least once, maybe twice to give a little wave as he leaned on the door. Or when you'd started accepting his lifts home and would always linger in his seat when he turned the engine off, the two of you leaning over the console and chattering a bit longer. Or when it came to staying to watch a game with him when Sarah had gone to bed when he knew you hated sport.

Of all those times he'd never let his mind wander as much as it was not.

"Tommy dragged me out," said Joel, taking more of his beer.

"He dragged you?" you chuckled. "You didn't want to come?"

"I'm glad I did," he said.

You take a longer sip of your drink, nodding. "I'm glad you did too."

Joel watched you a second as you tilted your head, a small tilt to your head. "You wanna another drink?" he asked. He wasn't even sure how much you'd had already. Was all this new look and attitude the cocktails talking?

"I should be good," you muse.

Joel decided in that moment he'd either spend the rest of the night in your company, or go home alone. "Your friends not missing you?" he didn't even want to look back at your friends maybe waiting for you. Or that guy watching you.

You also didn't care to look back. "Let them."

Joel smirked as he brought his bottle to his lips. "Atta girl."

He heard your intake of breath and felt satisfied. Your leg kicked off your other one and had grazed his, going down and down and he was sure you weren't doing this on accident. Not anymore.

"You can't say things like that," you chuckle, shuffling in your seat.

God, your thighs were pressing together tightly. Such a pretty sight...

You leaned over in your seat. "Do you know how many women would kill to hear you say that to them?"

"Well, i'm saying it to you, ain't I?"

You look at him through your lashes and Joel's legs widen to accommodate for the rising need in his crotch. It was wrong. It was so wrong. It was crossing a line. "I think I'll take that drink, if you're still offering?"

Joel nods and waved someone over to get you the same. The two of you talked a little more as you waited, your drink sliding over moments later.

"It must get lonely," you said, fingers dancing around the condensation of the glass. "That house all alone."

It seemed both of you had forgot about Tommy at that point.

The game being played between the two of you suddenly seemed real to Joel. "You tryin' to get an invite over?"

"Maybe."

You didn't miss a beat.

Joel looked at you. People were piling into the bar, music was being played but all he could focus on was you.

Your hand darted out, your fingers grazing his knee.

He looked down at his knee, where you touched him. Could you make out the dent in his jeans. "You know, i'm old enough to be your father."

"So should I start calling you daddy?"

He chocked on his beer. He managed to finish it, smirking to himself. "You got a mouth on you."

"You started it looking at me like that."

Joel rested against the bar. "I'm your employer."

You shrug. "And i'm not at work."

Joel looked around the bar and found his brother making out with a woman at the furthest end. He was sorted. "Why do you hang out here, huh kid?" if what Tommy told him was true he wasn't sure he could handle the idea of you coming here, looking out for someone that wasn't him.

You shrug. "It's a good bar, good drinks, good company usually."

"Usually?" he teased, his hands on his thighs. "You know, Tommy told me some filthy things around this place."

You lick your lips, holding back amusement. "Really?" you stand to your feet, leaning on the bar closer to him. You slot perfectly between his thighs.

His hand danced close to your hip but didn't touch you. Not yet. "People come here for one thing."

"Enlighten me, Joel."

His name from your lips made his brain fuzzy, effecting him more than any beer. But he couldn't do it, god, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Of the counter. Of how good you'd look bent over the counter, tight skirt bunched up at your hips.

But the words failed with him.

It was like you could tell, like you knew every move of his and every twitch.

You take one more sip of your drink before sliding it over the counter.

Joel watched as you got to your feet and worry rose on him. Worry he'd lose all he wanted.

"I'm going around the back, i'm going to be there for two minutes before I call an uber to go home. See you."

You meant it to. He watched you walk off, only briefly waving to your friends as you wove in and out of the people.

You were giving him two minutes to fuck over his life.

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You waited, and waited for what you thought was two minutes. Truth be told you didn’t have a watch and lingering around the back of the bar probably wasn’t the greatest idea.

You could tap your foot and wait, rethinking your words and actions and hope that every time the door swung open, it would be your boss.

Joel fucking Miller. What game were you playing? More to the point, what was he doing?

Looking at you like that, carelessly letting his eyes wander as he imagined everything he wanted to do to you? You weren’t immune to his looks, his touches that lasted too long and the way he always watched you walk up to your front door, the engine only roaring once you were safe inside.

But now it seemed- faced with the ultimatum of fucking you or leaving you as nothing but his daughter’s babysitter- he was choosing the latter.

You’d really thought your lonely nights with only toys and fingers for company may have been rectified.

As you push yourself off the wall you really thought-

A sudden strong and rough hand grabbed your wrist and turned you back until you were against the wall and until lips were on yours.

You knew the scent, knew the strength of the body as Joel Miller pressed himself against you, groaning and licking into your lips.

You hands are in his hair, tugging at the curls of black and grey as you let him feel all your body, his arms caging you in and hand dragging down and down and-

"That was three minutes, sweet girl," Joel’s beard scratched your neck as he dragged his lips over your pulse.

You hold back a moan. The music in the bar was loud and the only people coming this way were the ones looking for a quick piss. Still you wanted nobody to stop this. "Wanted to give you a chance."

He nodded into your neck, biting the skin and winning a gasp from you. Joel tilted his head back, searching your gaze that only saw him. "Tell me you want this."

You nod. "I want it."

His hand cupped your cheek, thumb dragging down your bottom lip. He watched, entranced. "You’d let me down anything, wouldn’t you?" He whispered, looking as if he wasn’t all there. That some part of his mind was already fucking you against the wall.

You lower your head until you can reach the pad of his thumb, kissing the tip. "I want it."

"Oh, fuck baby," he groaned, pushing the pad of his thumb further into your mouth. Promises of things to come. "You’re gonna kill me sweet girl."

Your hand ran down his stomach until it meant the tightness of his pants and running up and down until you could feel the press of his length in your palm.

Joel indulged for a minute. His thumb in the warmth of his mouth while your other hand rubbed him right. Then he snapped back into reality as the door banged on the wall.

Not there.

Against himself, he took his thumb from you and grabbed your wrist, alerting you.

"I need your word that if we do this, Sarah doesn’t find out," he said sternly.

You chuckled. "Well I’m hardly gonna tell her I screwed her dad, am I?"

"Hey," he held one finger in front of your face, defying your smirk. "Your word, little miss, or I can drop you off home and you can watch while I take care of the problem you created."

You gulped. Maybe for a moment you forgot it was Mr Miller you were affronted with. Quickly, you nodded your head.

"Good girl," he surged forward and sucked on the bottom of your lip, his hips digging into yours. He groaned as you ground on him, nails digging into his biceps. "Feel wha’ you do to me, huh? You know how many times I’ve had to fuck my own fist and think of you?"

You practically melt at his words, leaning back into the wall. "Joel… please."

"Please what? Huh?" he taunted, rutting his clothed hips into your own, biting down on his lip as you threw your head back, moaning at the sensation. "C'mon, tell me what you want. Be a good girl and say it."

"I want you to fuck me," you whispered.

Joel scoffed. He left his hips against yours. He tutted. "I'm an old man, darlin', you're gonna have to speak up."

"Fuck me!" you all but screamed, desperation turning you into a mess.

Joel grabbed your hand and started to drag you from the alleyway, searching around as if his daughter might pop up out of nowhere.

You couldn't care less, didn't think about the group of friends you were leaving, or the guy that wanted you. Your hand circled over Joel's stomached t shirt, nails scratching as you leant into his side, lips marking up his neck.

"Fuck, baby," Joel groaned as he searched in his pocket for his keys. You joined the search, your fingers searching all around the dent in his jeans. "Fucking desperate, aren't you, huh?"

"Can't wait, Joel," you whisper in his ear, lips brushing, shivers running down his spine as you squeezed his crotch. "Please baby."

Joel grunted. He was practically shaking with the need to fuck you, to feel you against him. To have his hands wander all over you and memorise the way you moaned under him. There was so much more he wanted. Wanted to have you scream, wanted your neck bruised with his love and his back to carry the scratches from you.

He just needed.

"Fuck," he couldn't believe he was being so reckless. Couldn't believe that with a kiss and a grope you had rendered him a horny teenager. "Get in the back, babygirl."

He held open the door and practically pushed you in, climbing over you.

You jumped into his lap as soon as the door slammed shut and Joel chucked his keys somewhere to the front. Your lips worked against his, claiming it as yours and invading an unknown territory. You moaned as his tongue ran against yours and sucked it into his own mouth.

His hands were warm and large as they gripped your ass harshly, a soft slap echoing around his truck.

"You gonna let me slide my fingers into your pussy, baby?" he asked against your lips.

You moaned.

"Hey!" he grabbed your chin, pulling you back to stare at him. Your lips were already red and swollen. "You gotta talk to me baby. You want my fingers? Say yes."

"Yes please," you say, catching your breath. Your chest felt heavy, your pussy throbbing. "Please, want your fingers."

Joel smirked, finger tips brushing under the band of your skirt. "So polite."

The space at the back of his truck was small and cramped but he'd be lying if he hadn't thought about this. Hadn't thought about you in the back of his truck, cock stuffed down your throat or his face buried in your thighs.

All those times he'd taken you back, it had never been as innocent as he would let on.

But having you in his lap, begging for it, practically drooling with just his words, he had a feeling you weren't as innocent as you'd always made out to be.

Joel let the elastic of your skirt slap into place, causing you to jolt into him. As you jolted, he used the leverage of your hips to pull your skirt up and feel under you. "Jesus baby- you're soaked."

His finger slid up the cloth of your panties, collecting the dampness and smearing it.

You gasp as he presses into your pussy, pushing the cloth into you. "Joel please, I asked so nice."

"You did, sweet girl, you did," he nodded, watching as your eyes squeezed shut. "Hey- eyes on me baby, right here." He gently slapped the under part of your chin to get you to look at him as he easily hooked your panties to the side and sunk a finger in.

You hum out a moan, head tilted back.

Joel found the crevice of your neck, dragging his beard against the soft skin and relishing in the red that bloomed. "You like it? You like my fingers inside your heat? God, you're so warm."

"Like it," you nod, eyes shutting again.

Joel groaned low in his throat as he grabbed your chin and forced your forehead against his. "You keep your eyes on me, you understand me. Or i'll drop you off home. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mr Miller."

"Oh-" Joel sunk his ring finger in until he was knuckle deep. "You're so good for me."

You tighten around the feel of his fingers. He's barely curling them and already you're squirming at the sound of your own slick.

"Ride my fingers, babygirl, gowan' now."

Obediently you started to move, riding his hand. His rough palm moved with you. His mouth remained open in a small 'o' as you wither against him, moaning.

Joel couldn't help the filth that spilled from his mouth. But with every clench you gave around his fingers, you didn't seem to mind.

"So good for me... such a good girl,"

"Dirty too, riding me in the back of the truck you and Sarah ride in."

"Fuck, i've dreamt of this, you look so good with my fingers stuffed inside of you."

At his encouragement you grip his shoulders, moving faster until your skirt is ridging up your hips and the little wisps of your hair are sticking to your forehead from sweat.

His thumb pressed down on your puffy and begging clit.

"Shit- ah- fuck!"

Joel's hips involuntarily bucked up to yours. "You wanna cum, sweet girl?"

You bite down on your lip, nodding and looking at where his forearm- taunt and veiny- disappeared under you.

Joel rested his head next to yours, kissing the sweat at your neck. "Tough baby, you're so dirty. Dirty girls have to do a lot of waiting till they get their reward."

Slowly, he retracts his fingers.

"Look at all this mess," he tutted, looking at how his fingers glistened with your need. He pats your hips, "up."

You fall onto the seat next to him, legs spread and head resting back on the car door.

You watch as Joel lifts his hips, un-buckling his belt as he starts to pull off his boxers and jeans. Your foot danced over to his lap but he impatiently pushes it away.

"You want to cum, don't you?" he asked, sending you a dark look. His hand grabs your ankle as you nod and kisses the bare skin above your heel. "Then behave."

The hand that you had just been riding wrapped around his cock and brought it out.

Your mouth opened as you stared at the beauty of the thing. He was big, bigger than you'd seen and bigger than you'd dare dreamed. He shone with pre-cum and your arousal as he spread what was on his fingers. His hand worked himself up and down as he relaxed back in his seat.

He looked over at you. "Eyes up here, baby."

Your gaze flicked up to him. "So pretty, Joel."

He chuckled and tugged himself. "Always knew you'd like it. God, you've no idea the things i've dreamt."

"Tell me. Please."

Joel leaned his head back, moving up and down his length slowly as he re-called every filthy dream his mind conjured. "Your hands wrapping around me. Your mouth being so warm and wet as you fuckin' choke on it. God, bet your throat's not used to a man's cock, huh? Only used to boys, ain't that right?"

He opened his eyes, peeking at you.

You'd dared closer to him, leaning over. You nodded.

"Bet that kid in there was hoping you'd give him a chance," he went on, his other hand coming up and thumb and forefinger tugging at your chin. "He didn't stand a chance as soon as you saw me, did he?"

You shake your head, shuffling closer into his side.

He jerked your head toward him. "Answer me."

"Only want you, Joel," you tell him.

You lick your lips, eyes darting from him to his leaking cock. The tip was red, begging for attention. "Can I- Can I please?"

Joel stroked back your hair. "Go on then, baby. Have a play." He stretched his arms along the back of the truck and watched to see you move.

But Joel quickly realised you didn't come around to play.

You'd always seemed so innocent- so un-knowing- when you looked after Sarah, when you helped him clean down the kitchen, when he'd offer you lifts back or to stay over you'd always blush and lower your head.

You were lowering it now, throwing your hair back over your shoulder and holding the base of him.

First, you touch him with your lips lightly and he smiles, daring not to think this might be the only time he lets you touch him like this. Your lips are so pretty and pink, swollen and wet from kissing him as you drag them along the sides.

Then you pepper kisses along the skin and start moving your hand around the base.

"You really gonna tease me?"

"Wanna take my time," you mumble into his though, kissing the skin.

Next, your hand cups his balls that were heavy with need. He wasn't exaggerating, it had been years since his last good fuck and no amount of jerking himself off to the thought of you could satisfy him. As your fingers played with his balls, rolling them around and giving them warmth and attention they craved, you made out with the tip of his cock.

You collected his pre-cum with your lips and tongue while still fondling him.

He could feel his shirt stick to him, his chest rising and falling quicker. Shittin-fuck. How was he supposed to last if this was what you were giving him?

"Easy, baby, easy," he eased you, stroking back your hair.

He knew you heard cause you were smirking then opening your mouth and taking him deep, almost all the way in one.

Joel groaned and grabbed the door. "Shit-ah-"

He didn't care if he wasn't far from the bar. Didn't care if anyone tried to get a look in through the fogging up windows. He didn't care if Tommy came by and applauded him for getting his dick wet. All he cared for was the feel of your wet mouth all the way down him, spit drooling down his cock.

You were doing so well and he wanted you to know.

"You wanna take me deep, huh?" he grunted, clutching onto your hair and holding you down. You gagged around him. He chuckled. "I'm not even all the way in there. You got room for more?"

You dragged your mouth up, taking a deep breath and nodding. You wiped your mouth from the mess you made and went in again.

This time, you took him again and again, deeper, bobbing him in your throat until he was a grunting and groaning mess. His hips moved of their own accord, shoving himself in even when there was nowhere else to go.

But the sounds of gagging, of his balls slapping against his own thighs as he moved, of the moans coming out of you were enough to almost having him finishing in your mouth. Almost.

He wanted to, boy did he, but he wouldn't, not until your cunt had swallowed him.

Joel pulled you up, letting you release him with a pop. "Want to be inside, need to be inside."

The truck wasn't the best place but it was the only place he had for you. He wished he could give you a bed, give your hours to welcome him, but Joel needed like he'd never needed. He imagined this is what starvation was, having your treat dangled in front of you.

And you were moving with him, lying down on the back seats, legs accommodating him as he slid in between you.

Joel gently pulled down your panties and stuffed them in the back of his pocket. If he was gonna have to jerk himself off to thoughts of you again, having your soaked panties was the least he deserved.

He glanced down at your swollen pussy and salivated.

Your hand trailed down, circling your clit as you moaned at the time he was taking.

Joel grabbed your wrist, bringing it up to his mouth and nipped at the skin. "Only I get to touch, yeah, babygirl?"

"Yes," you answered, breathless.

Joel loomed over you, bringing the tip of his leaking cock to smear himself over your folds. "Tommy told me somethin' real interestin'. Ask me what?"

"I don't- I don't care about Tommy, right now," you grab his shoulders, trying to pull him forward.

"He tol' me-" Joel strained, his lips brushing yours. It wasn't just your torture he wad delivering. It was his own. "He said people go to that bar to get fucked. Is that why you were there?"

For a moment you seemed shocked to hear it. Then the palm of your hand held his cheek, running over the stubble.

"Worked, didn't it?" you teased.

Joel sunk into you with ease. "Yeah."

He hid his face in your neck as you arched your back into him. 'Take it, take it,' he spoke into your skin, tattooing the words there.

"Joel-" you gasped, holding onto his back. "Fuck!"

"You're ok, baby. You're ok, babygirl," his breath was short. He needed to feel you more, the half way in wasn't enough. "Fuck, you grip me so well."

You gasp, holding him in you. "Need-need more."

"I dunno baby, you think you got it?" he teased.

"Yes, yes."

"What have I said about speaking up?"

You groan, throwing your head back on the seat. "Fuck me, please Joel!"

With a grunt loud enough to be heard outside, Joel sunk further into you. 'Shit, yeah.... fuck,' spilled from his lips as he slowly took himself out of you before sinking in all the way again.

"You feel me?" asked Joel. He held himself up over you because he'd be damned if he wasn't gonna watch you fall apart on his dick.

"Feel it, feel you everywhere," you mumble.

You really did. You felt the soft seats of his truck, smelt him everywhere. The smell of old cologne, cigarettes (though you were sure he didn't smoke) and new wood. It wasn't just his cock sinking into you but his voice as he mumbled filthy things in your ear. His hand dragged down your face, gripping your neck. Not tight enough to cut airways but tight enough to make you squeeze him.

He stuttered, "sh-shit. If you do that again I won't last," he told you. "And I want you to come first."

"Then fuck me Joel," you said, looking up at him.

Joel looked down to where he disappeared into you. You were already rocking your hips into his, desperate for something- anything. His hand pushed back some of your hair as he stared at you with something more than need. Desire. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Wasn't it? Wasn't it everything you wanted since he first laid a hand on your shoulder and led you into his home, welcoming you to his life. "Yes."

His thumb dragged out your bottom lip before his lips were smashing onto yours, wet and sloppy as his thrusts increased.

He moved his hips in and out rapidly, giving you no more time to adjust. It wasn't long before he had to release your lips to breathe.

"Ah- shit!" you yelled.

"That's it baby, be as loud as you like. Let the whole fucking street know who's fucking you," he panted. His hands were at your neck, holding the both of you steady.

"Joel!"

"Shit! You feel so good!"

Joel tugged down your top, not in the mood to care if it rips. It's not like he was letting you back in that bar. He pulled out your tits and latched onto them like a child, nipping at the nipple.

Your hand winds itself in his hair, pulling at the roots and throwing your body into his. You could feel his cock stretch you, the pain mixing delightfully with the pleasure. With every thrust he tipped you closer and closer onto the ledge and as his warm, wet mouth sucked on your nipple, the other hand squeezing and playing with the other, you knew it would be the best orgasm of your life.

"I'm gonna, arg-"

Joel licked around your nipple. "Not yet."

"Joel!"

"Hold it!"

He pushed himself up, holding onto the back of the seats as he used the position to put a foot on the ground and fuck into you harder.

The windows were steamed, your bodies slick with sweat.

The truck was fucking shaking at how hard he was moving you.

You threw a hand out behind you to hold onto the door, bracing yourself as you rocked your body into his.

Joel threw his head back, his neck stretching you and tempting you. "Best fucking pussy out there. And I've been wasting you as a babysitter."

"Yours," you mumble. He hadn't even asked and you were giving him the promise.

His lips tilted into a lobsided smirk as he leaned closer to you. "You mine, huh? All mine? My girl, my pussy?"

"Yes," you nod.

For a minute you can only hear your breaths with the sound of his hips slapping into yours.

Joel's fingers dig into your thighs and bring your leg up to wrap around his waist. "Mine," he all but growled into your chest, nipping at the skin. "Show me. Show me you're mine. Cum."

He thrusted into you hard, his thumb holding your stomach down and playing with your clit until you were coming all over his cock. 'That's it baby... all over me.... there's a good girl.... keep coming,'

Joel fucked you throughout. He had his own finish to reach but watching you fall apart, your mouth open in a silent gasp as your fingers claw into his shoulders.

He cupped your chin, smiling down at you. "You gonna help an old man out?"

You were in no state to, coming down from your highest high.

Joel cupped your ass and lifted you from the seats that were slowly soaking in both of yours juices. "Ah-" he yelled out at the new angle he was reaching, his balls heavy hitting your pussy. "Yeah- there- just there baby."

"Joel!" you yell. "S'to much."

"No it's not," he shook his head. His eyes were screwed up as sweat rolled down his cheeks. "You can take it. You know you can."

Your pussy was throbbing, squeezing him so intensely you didn't know how he was still moving.

You bit down on your lip as you watched him concentrating hard. You test the waters, wrapping your legs around his waist until your entire lower body was in his weight.

"Fuck!" Joel's jaw clenched as he looked down at you, his fingertips digging into the skin of your soft thighs until he was sure bruises would be there for only him to see. "I'm gonna... shit- Where you want it?"

"Inside, please," you mewl.

Joel looked at you, danger in his eyes. "No, baby, we can't."

You nod and squeeze his hips. "I'm on the pill."

The words were heaven to his ears.

You squeeze around him and Joel yelled out, falling atop you as he spilled out inside of you.

"Take it! Take it! Fucking let me- let me in!" he yelled, hips stuttering as he fell into you. One of your legs remained around him but the other he let drop, holding it weakly.

You were sure you were still coming down from your high as his hips stuttered on yours. You could feel every drop of him smear on your pussy and leak out.

Then Joel's fingers danced around the space his cock was softening in you, pushing it all back in.

His brows rose as he looked down, a shaking laugh coming out. "I-"

You didn't want to hear the words that came after. The regret. The 'we shouldn't have' or 'think about Sarah'. You just wanted this moment of feeling held and cared for by Joel to last a little longer.

Your lips move against his slowly, tasting the salt of sweat from the both of you on there.

He didn't push you away, he just held his lips close to yours, in small and attentive brushes. "How do you feel?" he whispered, pulling back enough to look around your eyes.

"Good," you nod, "real fucking good."

Joel chuckled and looked down. Slowly, as not to hurt you, he pulled out.

You moaned at the sudden emptiness in you, lying there to catch your breath and so you didn't have to prepare for regret in his face.

But it seemed regret was the last thing on Joel's mind.

He had no idea what kind of animal was possessing him or just how far his need went. But when he fell back against the door, listening out to the low drum from the bar, he saw your swollen cunt. Red and white. Red from how hard he'd fucked you and white from the mixture of you and him.

Something growled inside of him- maybe it was him- but before either of you understood what was happening, Joel lunged back in and spread your thigs, diving in.

You lurched up onto your elbows, looking down at him. You could see the top of his hair, his eyes closed and you could feel his nose moving around you and nudging you. "Joel, what are you- holy-"

Joel hummed into your pussy. It was heaven on his tongue, dripping into him. So sweet and all you. He'd never felt closer to a person before. Never felt such a need. He was slobbering like a damn dog over your pussy.

"What the fuck have you done to me, huh," he'd pulled back only enough so you could understand his words.

Neither of you were sure if he was talking to you or what laid between your legs.

He opened up your pussy and went in, tongue fucking into you. He was caught between wanting to push his spill back into you and eating you out till you were dry.

"Joel!" you screamed, voice breaking. "You-you can't-"

"I fucking can," he snarled. His face was being pushed into your cunt as he shook it, smearing both of you all over him.

There was nothing you could say or do before your legs trembled and you came all over his beard and lips. You didn't know what to do, whether to push him off you or pull you closer.

Joel held your hips into his mouth and groaned as he took in everything you gave him.

Every flick of his tongue had you shaking. Every time he gripped your thighs you made a noise of pleasure.

Hours might have passed since he first discovered heaven between your thighs before he pulled himself out.

His face was wet with you. It was sinful and like nothing you could ever imagine. "Look at what you've fucking done to me."

You'd made an absolute mess.

[guilty-ff]

𝐒𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞

After walking out mid-argument, Dante ends up with Enzo, bad advice, and demon-grade alcohol. The goal? Forget everything. But what good is drinking your feelings away when your body won't even let the alcohol stick?

Pairing: Dante x Fem!Reader

Genre: Oneshot, romance, hurt comfort, mild Angst, Fluff!

Warnings: language, Emotional miscommunication, Mild alcohol use, Mentions of past trauma/abandonment issues

Authors comment: This idea hit me while rewatching the 2007 anime. Dante was drinking and I thought, if he can even get drunk with his regeneration?? Wouldn’t it be fun (and a kinda tragic) seeing Dante all frustrated, trying to get wasted but his demon healing just won’t let him?

It didn't start with a fight.

It started with quiet tension. A half-answer here. A missed call there. The kind of things that build in the background, until one day, something stupid stirring up the tension.

Tonight, it was the dishes.

Not the end of the world, right? Not even a big deal. Just a small, silent irritation. The sink was full. Again. You'd come home late to that same damn pile, untouched, like a monument of Dante's laziness.

"Seriously?" you asked, not even raising your voice at first. "You said you'd clean the kitchen."

Dante, lounging on the couch with his boots up and one arm slung behind his head, barely turned his head. "I will."

"When?"

He yawned. "Eventually."

You stood in the doorway to the kitchen, fists clenched at your sides. "You live here too."

"Yeah," he said, stretching, "and I kill demons for a living. One of us is clearly more exhausted."

That did it.

"Oh, you're exhausted? Try coming home after twelve hours of dealing with people who actually communicate, only to realize I'm dating a guy who thinks emotional labor is a side quest."

He sat up a little at that. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you don't show up, Dante. Not for the little stuff. Not when it matters."

He stood now, slowly, arms crossed, like you'd just challenged him to a duel instead of a conversation. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Physically? Sure. Emotionally? No. I have to dig to get anything out of you. You dodge every serious talk with a joke. You ghost me for hours after missions. You don't answer texts. You act like I should be grateful you're even around."

He narrowed his eyes, jaw tightening. "You think I don't care?"

"I think you're scared to."

Silence.

For a second, the world shrank. There was no sound, only tension in the air. His mouth opened. Then closed.

You took a breath. "You treat this like it's temporary. Like you're just waiting for me to leave. You act like I'm disposable, like everyone else who's hurt you. That's not love, that's defense"

His voice was too quiet when it came. "Everyone leaves."

"And that gives you permission to push me away first?" you snapped. "To be cold and dismissive and act like you don't need anyone?"

His eyes flashed. "I never said I didn't need you."

"Then act like it, Dante!"

He flinched. Not visibly. Not in a way most people would notice. But you knew him. You saw it, in the small drop of his shoulders, in the tight line of his mouth.

He looked at you like you'd touched a bruise he didn't know was still sore.

Then, without a word, he turned and grabbed his coat.

“Don’t,” you said quickly, your anger slipping away. “Don’t walk away. Not again.”

But he was already at the door, and then gone.

He didn’t take his phone, didn’t say a word, didn’t shout, just the soft click of the door as it closed behind him.

And then, silence.

You paced the apartment, every minute ticking louder than the last. You called once. Twice. Ten times. Nothing.

And when he finally walked back through the door two hours later?

He was dragging a crate of alcohol like it was his soul in a box.

Earlier...

Dante sat in Enzo's crusty kitchen, arms crossed, sulking like a kid who'd lost his lunch money.

"I dunno, man," he muttered. "She said I treat her like she's disposable."

Enzo was already halfway through a beer and nodding slowly. "Well, do ya?"

Dante squinted. "No."

"Then it's simple: she's wrong."

"She's not wrong," Dante admitted.

"Oh."

There was a pause.

"Okay," Enzo tried again, rubbing his stubbled chin. "Maybe she's just being... emotional. Women, y'know. Feelings and all."

Dante stared blankly. "You've been divorced three times."

"Exactly. I know things."

Dante dragged a hand down his face. "I shut down. That's the problem. I don't know how to talk about any of it: The nightmares, the constant fear that everything's gonna go to hell again, so I don't."

Enzo blinked.

"Jesus Christ."

Dante laughed bitterly. "I never learned how to let people stay. Mother died. Vergil left. Everyone I ever cared about either died or disappeared. She gets close and it's like... my brain starts screaming. Like she'll vanish if I breathe wrong."

"Alright, alright," Enzo said, waving his beer. "Enough of that. You're spiralin'. That's girl therapy talk."

"It's called trauma, Enzo."

"Whatever. You don't need therapy. You need alcohol."

Dante looked up slowly. "What?"

"Alcohol! Fixes everything. You drink, you talk, or maybe you don't, and then she feels bad for you and bam, makeup sex."

"That's... not how people work."

"Worked for my second wife. For a week."

"You're an emotional hypocrite," Dante muttered.

“Exactly. Look,” Enzo said, searching through his stash like it was some kind of treasure chest. “I’ve got the good stuff. Demon-proof, Hellfire brand. This stuff would probably knock Cerberus out cold.”

Dante barely registered the words. His mind kept going back to the mission, the one he screwed up. He took down Cerberus, got paid, and then… nothing. No text, no call, no follow-up. He promised he wouldn’t do this again, but here he was, pulling the same bullshit.

Enzo, oblivious to the storm rising in Dante’s head, kept on his monologue. “You know what’s crazy? You take down Cerberus like it’s a walk in the park, get a fat paycheck, and still can’t pick up the damn phone? What happened, Dante? You don’t even have the decency to say ‘Hey, I didn’t die fighting a three-headed mutt. I’m fine.’” Enzo scoffed.

Dante’s frustration bubbled over. “I—”

“I know, I know,” Enzo interrupted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s tough, man. That damn Cerberus battle really took it out of you. Big, bad demon, yada yada… but here’s the thing, you still can’t handle texting her? You get all emotional, come back looking like a damn mess, and then ghost her? That’s cold, bro.”

Dante felt a knot tighten in his chest. He wasn’t just mad at Enzo for talking about it like it was some kind of joke. He was mad at himself. He promised his lover, he really did, but once again, he failed. He couldn’t get out of his own way.

Enzo kept going, still not realizing how much he was digging in deeper. “Look, you’re so good at demon slaying, but when it comes to basic human interaction? You’re trash. And I don’t even mean like ‘rookie-level’ trash, I mean pro-level trash. You can take down an ancient demon, but you can’t pick up the phone? Dude, even I managed not to screw things up like this in my old relationships, and I’m a disaster. Like, seriously, I’m the disaster.”

Dante slammed his head against the counter. The guilt was suffocating.

Enzo, not noticing a thing, just kept yapping. “It’s not that hard. You show up at her place, look tragic, say nothing, drink dramatically. That’s the secret. Women love that tortured crap. Hell, I love it, and I’ve been through some shit.” He smirked, clearly thinking he was dropping wisdom. “Why do you think I’m always pulling in these tragic, mysterious vibes? I sell it, man. If I can do it, you can do it.”

Dante groaned, rubbing his face. “This is not helping. That sounds manipulative."”

Enzo didn’t even notice. “You’re telling me it’s manipulative? No, no, no. It’s drama. It’s called drama, son. We’re in the business of devil hunting and trauma bonding. You think any of the girls I’ve been with cared about me picking up the phone? Nah. It’s all about the act.”

Dante looked at the Hellfire bottle in Enzo’s hand, then back at Enzo’s grinning face, and sighed heavily. “I can’t get drunk anymore.”

Enzo raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed by Dante’s crisis. “Not with that attitude."

Dante raised a brow.

"Look," Enzo said, now dragging a wooden crate out like it was treasure. "You show up at her place, looking tragic, say nothing, drink dramatically."

Dante looked at the crate, then at Enzo, then sighed like the broken man he was.

"You're a disaster."

"And you're takin' the box as the next paycheck, so shut up."

Back in the apartment, Dante wordlessly slammed the box on the counter and uncorked a bottle like it owed him money.

You stood at the edge of the living room, arms crossed, watching this demon-slaying idiot fumble with the strongest liquor in the realm.

"Are you... drinking?"

He didn't look up. "Enzo said it would help."

"Oh no."

You stepped closer. "Dante. Tell me you didn't just trauma-dump on Enzo."

He swallowed a third of the bottle and winced. "Kinda."

"You told the greasiest man alive that you're emotionally shut down?"

"Yep."

"And he said drink through it?"

Dante slammed the bottle down. "He said it would either make me cry or pass out. So far it's just making me thirsty."

You deadpan blinked. "You're half-demon. Your liver literally regenerates."

"I KNOW."

You sat down at the table, chin in your hand. "You thought you could drink away emotional repression?"

He gestured at the second bottle like a broken man. "This one has a skull on it. Maybe it'll work."

"You're pathetic."

"I'm trying," he muttered.

"By what? Hiding from the consequences of emotional negligence?"

"I don't know how to do this," he said, shoulders slumped. "I know how to kill and destroy things. But I don't know how to stay."

Silence. Just the ticking clock. His hand tightened on the glass.

"I figured... maybe if I just felt something strong enough, I could finally say it."

You blinked at him.

"...So your genius plan was to outdrink your own trauma?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "It made sense at the time."

"You're a disaster," you said flatly, but your voice cracked at the edges, not from anger now, but from relief.

He finally looked at you, eyes tired, haunted, and young in a way that made your chest hurt.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he said, quieter. "I wasn't trying to disappear, I just... I don't know how to do this. When you got mad, it felt like- like it was already over. So I figured if I could just feel something... anything loud enough, maybe the words would follow."

You stared at him, then exhaled a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding.

"That's the dumbest emotional strategy I've ever heard."

He opened his mouth to argue, but you cut him off by stepping in and kissing him. Fast, warm, and full of everything you were still too exhausted to say.

He froze, then breathed out through his nose, leaning into it like something in him had just... let go.

When you pulled back, you raised an eyebrow.

"You still owe me a full conversation, idiot."

He gave a half-smile. "Can I be drunk for it?"

"You are very sober."

"Unfortunately."

He gave the ghost of a grin.

"Honestly? When you started yelling, I flashed back to the one time my old man raised his voice at me."

You narrowed your eyes. "Sparda yelled at you?"

"Once. Real quiet. Real disappointed. Genuinely horrifying." He held up a finger. "But you? You're way scarier. Banshee-level scary."

You tried not to smile. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"Wasn't meant to be," he muttered.

"Also," you added, grabbing the bottle and inspecting the label, "this says 'Do Not Consume If Mortal.'"

He groaned. "Enzo's gonna kill me."

"No," you said, placing the bottle on the counter. "I'm gonna kill the both of you."

Later, as he lay half-curled on the couch, shirt half-off, a bottle abandoned at his side, he mumbled just loud enough to betray himself:

"Damn it... Enzo's advice almost worked. Makeup sex counts for emotional healing, right?"

You, brushing your teeth in the next room, spit into the sink and yelled,

"You really are allergic to accountability."

Next morning:

It took exactly one full day before you marched Dante back into Enzo's trashfire excuse for an office.

You didn't knock.

The door flew open hard enough to rattle the coat rack and knock over a stack of demon-hunting magazines from 1998.

Enzo, chewing a meatball like it was his final meal, froze with sauce halfway to his chin.

"Well, well, if it ain't my two favorite lovebirds-"

"You gave him poison in a bottle!" you snapped.

"Technically it's concentrated hellbrew-"

"HE TRIED TO DRINK THROUGH HIS FEELINGS."

Enzo raised his hands in mock innocence. "Whoa, whoa. I didn't tell him to turn into a drunk cowboy in your kitchen. I offered an alternative path to emotional growth. Through liquor."

Dante stood awkwardly behind you, very much regretting his life.

"You," you pointed, turning to him. "You listened to him."

"In my defense," Dante muttered, "he said it was demon-proof and emotionally numbing. I panicked."

You folded your arms. "So your brain went: 'Hmm. I have unresolved abandonment issues... Better drown them in demonic Everclear and hope for the best.'"

He gave a sheepish shrug.

"And it almost worked," he added.

You slapped his arm. "It didn't."

"Okay, but technically we-"

"It didn't."

Enzo was now watching with the same face he made when demon entrails exploded in his car: morbid curiosity and suppressed laughter.

"Look, sweetheart," Enzo said, "not everyone's good at feelings. The kid's got a sword twice his body weight and the emotional range of a wet sponge."

"Hey-!" Dante frowned. "I tried to talk about my issues."

"You tried to mainline whiskey and stare into a mirror."

"Same thing!"

You glared at both of them. "You're not off the hook either," you snapped at Enzo. "He doesn't need alcohol, he needs a therapist."

Enzo scoffed. "I've been a therapist for years."

"You once told Dante to 'punch grief in the face.'"

"And he did! It was very liberating."

You sighed, hard enough to summon storms.

Dante reached up behind his head and mumbled, "Okay, okay. Maybe I'm bad at this."

"No," you said. "You're terrible at this."

"...But I still wanna try."

Your anger melted just a little.

He stepped closer, rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know how to fix everything in here," he said, tapping his chest. "But I don't wanna lose you just because I never learned how to talk."

You held his gaze.

"You're lucky you're hot," you muttered.

He smirked. "Jackpot."

You groaned.

Enzo stood up, wiping his hands on a suspiciously oil-stained towel. "Alright, lovebirds. Get outta my office before you start trauma-bonding on my furniture."

Dante turned to leave, and Enzo pulled him aside at the last second.

"Hey," Enzo whispered, voice oddly serious. "Next time she yells, listen. And don't try to drown it out. You'll screw it up worse."

Dante nodded.

"Also..." Enzo handed him a sealed bottle with a wink. "Save this one for after you make up. You'll thank me."

You grabbed it and dropped it in the nearest trash bin.

"No, he won't."

As the bottle clattered into the trash, Dante groaned into his hands.

“She’s gonna kill me."

[mallory524]

Hii can I request John Walker (or Thunderbolts if u dont write for him) with a reader who like passes out if they overuse their powers?

tyy love ur headcanons!!

(I LOVE THIS!!)

john walker x reader

tags- losing consciousness, canon level action/violence, teammates to lovers, comfort, implied no olivia (doesn't affect anything)

word count- 1020

notes- I am a proud John Walker girl and i straight up giggled when i saw I’d gotten a request for him😭(also you’re so sweet!! thanks!!)

The first time it happened during a mission, John thought you DIED. Even days later, he was still thinking about the moment he saw you collapse to the ground. He had rushed to your side in the midst of all the chaos and started frantically trying to find your pulse. Yelena had to tell him repeatedly that this happens to you sometimes, and that you just overdid it and you were fine. John figured she'd laugh at him for "overreacting", but she didn't. Yelena understood, and neither of them ever addressed the tears that had been in his eyes.

That whole incident forced John to address the very real feelings for you that he’d started to develop. You're so attractive and smart, and every time you use your powers, John's just mesmerized by how cool you look. He thought about you all the time, and those 40 seconds he was convinced he had lost you were terrifying. He didn't want you pushing yourself too hard like that again.

He kept worrying that all the energy you were exerting was hurting you. Whenever you guys were on missions, he’d be constantly glancing over at you to make sure you were doing okay. Sometimes he'd step in to help if he felt like you were trying to take on too much at once, even if you were handling things just fine.

As helpful as that all was, you misinterpreted it as John making fun of you. One night while putting your gear away, you noticed him closely watching you, like he was ready for you to collapse at any moment.

"Oh, cut it out, Walker."

"What are you talking-"

"I'm sorry I slowed us down that one time, it won't happen again. Geez," you had said. When you turned to meet his eyes, though, you were floored by the amount of real concern in them.

Instead of arguing back like he always does, John just sort of wearily throws his hands up in surrender. "Sorry. I know you know what you're doing."

Things were different after that. You were both terrible at communicating with one another about your feelings. About 3 months later, you actually started being honest with each other and a relationship started!

Now, you don't feel like you always have to hide your affection or your concern for one another, because it's all out there in the open.

John is way more comfortable letting you know he worries about you than he was before. He has trouble with the words sometimes, but he shows it in little ways.

He washes your suit, awkwardly folds it, and leaves it on your bed the night before a mission. He fills up your water bottle and he makes sure you're getting enough to eat. He knows that if you overuse your powers, you'll pass out anyway and a balanced meal probably won't change that, but he figures it can't hurt. He's your biggest cheerleader, and everyone jokes that he's the one running the fan account they found that posts clips of you from the news and other public appearances. John says that “obviously” he doesn’t have time to run a fan account, but he does at least follow it.

Despite his constant reminders not to overdo it, it still happens. John’s always there to carefully scoop you up and take care of you for the rest of the day.

One night, you guys are way outnumbered, and John's trying to fight this guy who’s definitely been enhanced in some way.

John might be doing okay now, but he's getting tired and the man's started to get the better of him. He's far away from you, and this man is obviously powerful, so you're really going to need a lot of energy to hurl this guy out of the way. That's energy you don't really have.

More people are closing in on you and that man is starting to pummel John and the rest of your friends are getting ambushed too- it's too much. You know you’re running out of steam and now you're getting overwhelmed. You take a deep breath in, try to steady yourself, and you finish this. Your moves are intentional and carefully aimed in many directions, but anyone watching would just see one big burst of light that illuminates the dark street and ends the entire fight. When the dust settles, all of your adversaries are down, but so are you. You don't do that kind of thing often; it's too much at once, and it's too much on your body.

When you wake up, you're in the car, and John is tending to your injuries and Alexei high fives you, saying you did a great job.

You're injured, you can feel that, but you notice John's pretty roughed up, himself. "Are you okay?" you ask him quietly through a yawn.

"Oh yeah. I heal quickly, you know. That guy was just really strong. You're a lot stronger than I think you realize, too."

You wince upon hearing that, even though John's softly smiling at you and clearly not mad. "Yikes, sorry. I was hoping you wouldn't get caught in the crossfire."

He just kisses your forehead.

"Don't apologize. But stop overworking yourself... and don't do that move again, it was terrifying."

"Well, stop trying to take on the scariest people we run into, that's terrifying," you say as you reach for the first aid kit to patch up a long cut on John's face, but he gently swats your hand away.

"No, get more rest. I'm fine. Lay back down. It's a long drive."

You don't even try to argue with him on this one. You're exhausted.

You know how the rest of tonight will go, too. John will make sure no one wakes you up again for the rest of the car ride, and then he'll carry you back into the tower and gently set you down on your bed. He'll be there for you in the morning to help you with anything you might need help with. He'll always be there for you. No matter what.

[wosostories]

Heath Sisters PT 7 (USWNT x Teen!Reader)

Masterlist

USWNT X Teen!Reader

First training session continued.

Note: Anything that makes it sound like I know what I'm talking about is completely made up. If you believe any of it I have successfully created believable word vomit. And if its not believable, well I made it all up so...

By the time that the team breaks for lunch Y/N is perched on a soccer ball watching the older girls practice. 

Tobin grabs her water before walking over to her sister. 

"You're too wide." Y/N says. "You need to tuck in more before you make the cross. Or you need to make the cross go farther before curling in, but that's harder so just tuck in more." 

"Yeah ok, that makes sense." Tobin nods along. 

"Y/N why would she do that? Her cross is landing where it needs to so why?" Alex asks. 

Y/N just looks up at her confused. "Because the cross isn't landing where it needs to. On that last try Wambach missed the header because it came down to low before she could get to it."

"Ya but that was because I was a step behind, not because Tobin didn't make a good cross." 

"No it's because it was too far from you. If Tobin had moved in a little more before sending it the ball would have been at the perfect height when you got to the front of the net."

"So then she just need more height in the cross right."

Y/N shakes her head, "No cause that gives more time for the defense to get on the attacking player. You don't make the run when the ball is that far out until it's crossed in, otherwise you are likely to get an off sides call, so you lose the defender in the run and the ball comes perfectly to you for the header."

"You're saying all of this as if you could do it." Carli says with an annoyed tone. 

"I-I mean I can show you if you want." Y/N says her eyes darting down to her boots. 

"Alright everyone back on the field I want to see what the kid means." Abby calls. 

They set back up in the crossing drill. Y/N gets passed the ball. She megs the defender on her before sending in the cross. She is little further infield then what her sister had been before. The ball lands perfectly for a signature Wambach header. 

When the team looks back up Y/N is already talking to Tobin about how to get around the defender if a meg isn't an option. 

"Also make sure not to curl it in to much just because you are moving in closer. You want the ball to go out a little bit further so it's closer to her from the start. The less she has to run onto it the better. But you can stay wider if you want to put it at Christen's feet. If you do that though be careful of…" 

"What the hell was that?" Abby asks running over to the younger girl. 

"A cross into the box." Y/N responds. 

"Ya I know that, but I've never had an easier time getting to a headed ball." 

Y/N just shrugs and turns back to her sister. Abby grabs her shoulders and turns Y/N to face her. "Do that again." 

"U-uh yeah ok…" 

They set it up a little differently so that there will be multiple runners in the box. Y/N also takes the cross from a different part of the field. 

This time Y/N sends it to Christen's feet to show what she had been trying to tell her sister before. 

Y/N doesn't have the opportunity to get as wide as she wants to send the ball into her so she makes the curl back in more aggressive. The ball tucks itself right into a gap of defenders as Christen runs on to the ball. The ball finds her instead of her finding the ball. It was like Y/N knew exactly where she was going to be at the exact right moment. Neaher saves it off the line despite the amazing strike. 

"Ok yeah, I agree with Abby. What the hell was that?" But as they turn back to Y/N she is apologizing. 

"Sorry about that. Should have let it hang another half second on the curl. That would have gotten you a little further in front of net and more options on where to slot it."

"What are you talking about Y/N? That was perfect."

"B-but it got saved. A perfect cross leads to a shot that can't be saved." 

"Tobin," Becky says quietly as she approaches from the other side of the field, "just what kind of pressure are you putting on your sister? You do remember that she is 11 right?"

"Of course I know how old my sister is. It's not my fault she is a genius." She pauses and turns to her sister, "Which reminds me no soccer after lunch. You have to get started on your school work."

Y/N lets out a sigh. "Ok…" she says a little dejected digging her boot into the grass.

"Oh come on you're almost done. You'll be done with high school in like a year. So just get it done now so you don't have to worry about it over summer alright. Then we can play all the soccer you want."

"Alright." Y/N runs back over to her stuff and the team finally makes their way back on the bus to go back to the hotel for lunch. 

"It's not like normal for all of you guys to be late." Coach says as they get on the bus. 

"Oh we went back on the field for a minute. Y/N was showing us how to improve our crosses into the box." Abby tells her. 

"Oh yeah that makes sense."

"Wait no it doesn't. You were getting advise from an 11 year old on how to improve your crosses?"

"Yeah!" Kelley says. "And then we went on the field so she could show us and it was awesome. It was like there was a magnet in the ball and it just floated to exactly where it needed to be in the box."

Coach looked back to where Y/N was sitting with her sister on the bus. She was curled up against her chest eyes drooping closed. 

'She sure is something.'

[daydreamgoddess14]

Lunch

Did someone say accidental mini series? 🙈

You all liked Breakfast so much, I thought I'd make you some Lunch too. Hope you're hungry!

Word Count: about 1.5k

Thunderbolts* (platonic for now) x F!Reader, no warnings, just some domestic sweetness. Bucky x F!Reader if you squint. It's still brewing.

They were never really around for lunch. It was your prep time, organising. Quiet. You couldn't decide if you liked it better that way. You made meals to reheat and they helped themselves. It was getting to the stage where, with a fully stocked kitchen and batch cooking, you had more and more downtime. Valentina had requested your exclusivity, so taking on other clients was out of the question. You peered through the glass door of the oven and willed yourself to wait a little longer. Not quite yet.

“What's cooking?”

“Pie.”

“Smells done.”

“Uhuh, not yet it's not.”

“Sure? I think I can smell burning -”

“It's not burning.”

“What's burning?”

“The pie.”

“Nothing is burning, John. Bucky just thinks he's the next Top Chef.”

The timer dinged and you checked through the glass again.

“You gonna take that out?”

“Patience, Barnes.” You counted to 20 and opened the oven, pulling out a beautiful, golden topped pie.

“That looks…”

“Perfect.” You smiled happily.

“Amazing,” John grinned. After everyone’s initial trepidation, it became very clear that the way to a Thunderbolt’s heart was very much through their stomach. You’d been given limited information on their backgrounds - some were more infamous than others - but you could tell immediately that hot, homemade meals had been in very short supply for all of them.

They all seemed to have their favourite times of day to pay you a visit. Bob was usually up first and watching you make stacks of pancakes for breakfast, Ava came hunting for snacks mid-morning. By lunchtime, John was always starving and vocal about it. Yelena liked something sweet in the afternoons, and Alexei began hovering anytime after 5pm, heavily anticipating what was on the menu for dinner.

Bucky seemed to have no specific time.

Some days he wandered through just as you were packing things away. Other times he showed up before anything had even made it into the oven. He never asked for anything, not like the others - just leaned against the counter and observed. Quiet. Watchful. Not unfriendly, but unreadable.

At first, you thought he was just keeping an eye on things. Habit. Distrust. You didn’t blame him - it was clear none of them were used to softness.

But then you started noticing the patterns. How he always lingered just a little longer than he needed to. How his eyes flicked toward your hands when you were kneading dough or slicing fruit, like he was cataloguing the motion.

How, every once in a while, he’d pass you a fresh towel without being asked. Or wordlessly refill your water glass. Or sit with a cup of coffee, hours old and probably cold - just to stay in the kitchen a little longer while you worked.

You hadn’t expected that.

You weren’t sure what to do with it.

“You, uhh, cutting that now?” John asked hopefully.

“Don't you want lunch first?” You asked, looking at the pile of bagels you'd already prepared.

“Oh yeah. Didn't see those,” he said sheepishly, “what's in the pie?”

“Plums,” you told him, holding up your purple stained fingers.

Bucky looked up at you, at the deep purple that had seeped into your skin, then back at the pie.

“Tell you what,” you continued talking to John. “Have lunch while this cools a little and I'll whip up some cream and a sauce.”

Like a kid, he fist pumped the air and darted off to find the others.

You could feel that Bucky wanted to say something, but he didn't. Instead, he watched you take out the tupperware of chopped plums from the fridge and tip them into a pan. You poured sugar over them and stirred the sticky, sweet mixture. Across the counter, he inhaled. The scent of sugar cooking and plums filled the kitchen.

The others started wandering in, taking plates and arguing over bagel fillings. Yelena came around to you at the stovetop and wrapped her arms around you.

“Thank you,” she murmured, squeezing so hard you thought she was trying to practice her heimlich manoeuvre. She peered into the pan. “Plums?”

“To go with the pie.”

“Bucky's favourite, again,” she grumbled.

“And I'll make your favourite next.”

“The cake? With the -”

“Chocolate in the middle. Yep, I know.”

She nudged you gently with her shoulder.

“Favouritism,” she warned, shooting a glance at Bucky.

“Not from me there isn't.” You challenged.

“Sure, sure,” she smirked and rolled her eyes, moving around to where Bucky was sitting. “Cookies, that pizza with the really thin crust… Not your favourites at all, right, Barnes?”

“Pretty sure everyone likes those, Lena.” He shrugged.

She looked at you, then back at him.

“Hmm. I'm watching you.” She warned. Then, “Alexei, no! That one's mine!”

“Snooze you lose!” He laughed loudly, leaving Yelena chasing after him for the last Swiss cheese bagel.

Bucky put the last two on plates, and pushed one in your direction.

Like vultures, they started circling. Bringing their plates to the dishwasher and hovering while you whipped cream in a glass bowl. Bucky came around the counter, reloaded the dishwasher correctly, and then took the bowl and whisk from your hands.

“I can do that,” you insisted. He flexed his hand, the dark vibranium catching the light.

“I can do it faster.”

“I'm quickly discovering that patience is a virtue you don't possess,” you laughed, taking out a huge knife from the drawer.

“Watch what you're doing with that thing.”

“You watch what you're doing. Don't over whip that.”

“Yes ma'am,” he grinned.

“I watch this show all day,” Alexei beamed, looking between you both.

You tore your eyes from Bucky and focused on the pie, cutting neatly through the centre, then turning the stand and cutting again, and again, into equal slices. Ava passed you the first plate and you used the flat of the knife to lift the slice from the rest of the pie.

It was glorious. Deep purple, filled to the brim and covered with golden sponge and surrounded by rich, crumbly pastry. You placed it gently on the plate.

John sighed, “goddamn that looks -”

“So good. Shotgun first slice!”

“Lena! I should get first slice!” Alexei complained.

You leaned over to look at the cream Bucky was still whisking, “you can stop now. Thank you.” You swapped the plate for the bowl and dolloped a spoon of cream on top of the pie, followed by a drizzle of the jammy, sweet sauce.

You looked at the assembled group, at lovely Bob who hadn't once argued over who was first, who was better, and you handed him the plate.

“Thanks!”

“Not fair.”

“He's literally the only one who never argues about food. Except Bucky, I guess, but then that would be favouritism, wouldn't it, Yelena?” You arched your eyebrow.

They stopped complaining once they all had a plate in hand.

“I marry the pie.”

“This is heaven.”

“I can marry you?”

“No thanks, Alexei. I'm taken.”

“I'll convince you. You'll see.”

No one else was listening to Alexei. All eyes had turned to Bucky who didn't look up from his plate.

Yelena clicked her tongue, “s'good pie,” she said slowly, as if waiting for someone, anyone to make eye contact with her. Eventually, Ava did. She tilted her head marginally in your direction and then flicked her eyes to Bucky. Ava shrugged.

They finished the pie and filtered away to enjoy what remained of their day off.

You grabbed your tote bag and keys, calling out, “I’m running to the store - text me if you need anything.”

“You have her number?” Bucky asked no one in particular.

“You don't?” Ava asked, surprised. He didn't answer. Only the low hum of the dishwasher and the quiet clink of dishes settling as they cooled filled the kitchen. The tower felt still, peaceful, for once.

You were gone for over an hour.

The store turned into the producers market turned into the bodega that somehow imported your favourite olives.

He swallowed, slowly. “Didn’t want it to go to waste.”

When you pushed the door open, he was there. Bucky, fork in one hand, pie plate in the other, standing barefoot in the kitchen like a man caught red-handed. He froze, mouth full, guilty as hell.

You stopped in the doorway, raised an eyebrow. “Second slice?”

You walked over, set your bag on the counter. “That was my slice.”

He looked guiltily at the pie. “You didn’t have one?”

“I was waiting.”

He hesitated, then held out the plate like a peace offering. “We could share?”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “Only if I get the bigger half.”

He sighed. “Deal.”

You leaned side by side at the counter, passing the fork back and forth, the pie disappearing in easy silence.

He cleared his throat, voice low. “What you said to Alexei earlier… was that real?”

“What, when he proposed to me over pie?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. Well -” You paused, then shrugged. “Well no, actually. Saying no is still taking some getting used to. It's… recent.”

“Oh.” He looked down. “Sorry.”

You took the plate from his hand and stole the last bite. “I'm not.”

Tagging on request: @doilooklikeagiveafrack @althea-tavalas @tellybearryyyy

[fandomlit]

haunted by the living (sirius black x reader)

requested by anon "hello! can you please write for older!sirius? it’s hard for his wife to be comfortable in his presence again after so long so she kind of ignore him because she just doesn’t know how to act, and during a meeting with the order, he saw her talking with everyone expect him. like she’s even close to severus and he gets jealous."

summary when sirius returned from azkaban, the idea of seeing you was his greatest motivator. but when you don't know how to interact with him, he's left to wallow until remus convinces sirius to show you the man he's been all along; the man you fell in love with.

warnings ANGSTT, pure angst so much of it, swearing, drinking

a/n okay so maybe i got carried away w this one but im obsessed with this idea

gif cred belongs to @peaceseller

it was hard to get back into normal life after spending so long is azkaban. sirius was finding different ways to adjust every day--from the amount of his appetite, to even feeling like the days were faster. there were many things different from before his time in prison to the modern day. but there was one thing in particular that he hadn't expected to change to much:

you.

you and sirius had been married for two years when he was arrested, but had been pining lovers in hogwarts for three years before that. he dreamed of you nearly every day in his azkaban delusions and the moment he first saw you again brought sweet, sweet relief to his heart. that is, until you completely turned away from him and resumed talking with a confused molly.

he felt like he's been walking on eggshells ever since.

you still stopped by grimmauld place nearly every day like every member of the order, but it was always in the company of someone else and never did you offer more than a few glances at sirius throughout the evening. if his cabin fever in the old, traumatic home wasn't already driving him mad, your interactions surely would. but he had no idea what to do.

he confided in remus one evening after everyone else had left. they sat in the kitchen, a warm butterbeer in remus's grasp with a glass of firewhisky rested in sirius's.

"it breaks my heart, moony," sirius spoke gravely, gaze trained furiously on the table as he thought about the mere glimpse he had gotten of you that day before you turned away from him. "i don't know what to do."

remus was silent for a long moment, nodding minutely to himself. "i think she's just scared, sirius."

sirius's head snapped up and he was less than surprised to feel a tear shake loose and roll down his cheek from the movement. "scared? of me?"

remus's lips pursed. "no," he said softly. "not of you, i don't think." he let out a sigh and tilted his head back, looking somewhere faraway as he considered his words. "i think she just spent so long thinking of you in a certain image, in a certain sense of betrayal, that it's hard for her just to go back from those thoughts. she can't just rewire her brain all in a month, you know. i imagine she's just struggling to grasp that you, this entire time, have just been you.'' though his heart panged harshly in his chest, sirius watched remus's expression carefully as he continued, "y/n was completely broken after you were taken, sirius. she didn't want to believe a word the press was saying, because she knew you better than anyone else, but sitting there in denial hurt her.

"after a while, i think it was easier for her to believe what they were saying rather than sit there knowing that you were innocent and there was nothing that she could do."

they were both silent for a long time after that, drinking thoughtfully.

"do i just wait it out?" sirius asked quietly. "wait until she comes to me?"

remus let out another long sigh, raising his mug to his lips again. "it's hard to say." sirius nodded, looking down at the near-empty glass in his hands. "but if i were you.." his gaze raised again. remus gave him a smile that was half-amused and half-pitying, "i would start to try to make her see that you're the same as you've always been. stop the moping, start becoming someone who can't be ignored. you know--start being more.. you."

sirius contemplated that for a moment before letting out a short laugh. "you were always the schemer of us, moony." he smiled at his friend, to which they both laughed and clinked their glasses, downing the rest of their drinks before they began to delve into ideas.

it was three days later that you made your next appearance at grimmauld place for their weekly reports over dinner. sirius and remus lingered by the doorway, helping everyone with their coats and making sure mrs. black stayed quiet as they entered.

when you arrived with tonks, you gave remus a hello and him a brief nod before you began to remove your coat. sirius slid behind you swiftly and grasped your collar before your hands could even get near.

he felt you stiffen for a minute as he muttered a gentle, "allow me." keeping a respectable distance and touching anything other than the thick material of your coat as little as possible, he helped you slip your arms out and then take it into his hands to hang up.

"thank you," you spoke softly, not making eye contact as your head inclined in his direction. before he could even breathe, you whisked into the kitchen with tonks following behind with a grin on her face. she turned and flashed sirius a thumbs up before disappearing around the corner.

sirius didn't realize that he still wasn't breathing until remus clapped him on the back. he grinned, his heart fluttering like he was a pining student all over again for you. "she spoke to me!"

"it's a small start," remus nodded, laughing as if he was just as relieved as sirius was, "but it's a start!"

sirius rode that high for the rest of the evening, despite having no other opportunity to directly interact with you again. but the few glances you stole at him that evening had him feeling especially prideful when he went to bed that night. it was the most hopeful he had felt since he first saw you.

a few nights later there was no regular order meeting, but many of the members ended up in grimmauld place anyway. it was a less serious evening than usual; there was little news to work with that week, and so there was a jovial, casual dinner that ensued. it wasn't the first time that such an occasion occurred, but it was the first time you had attended an evening like this.

sirius, as per usual, had made some grumble about being cooped up in the dusty home, which was received with better spirits than usual. many of the order teased him as they downed their meals and drinks.

remus nearly choked as a tipsy tonks pointed at sirius with her fork, "maybe if you looked less like a criminal you'd be more fit for the public, eh? lose the facial hair, i say!" the table burst into laughter, even kingsley tipping his head back to let out a deep laugh.

sirius threw his hands up. "no razors in azkaban, you know!" the laughter only continued, and sirius couldn't keep the grin off of his face as he saw you laughing along. "you stay a certain way for ten years and you find it hard to go back!" he saw something flicker in your eyes for a moment when he glanced over, but his attention was grabbed again before he could decipher it.

"i think it'd help if you didn't have that mischievous look about you," bill grinned, leaning back in his chair. "you've got that look that fred and george always do--you always look like you're up to something." the table chuckled again.

"should've seen him when that mischief was at work," remus mused. "could never keep a secret when him and james had some new scheme forming. right, y/n?"

there was a collective intake of breath--or maybe that was just me, sirius thought to himself--as the attention of the table shifted to you. you had a wary look in your eyes as your cheeks went adorably red, but you still smiled with a chuckled, "don't i know it." your gaze turned to sirius for the briefest of moments, but that short second where your eyes met had his entire body feeling electrified.

"so, y/n," tonks piped up as everyone had nearly finished their plates. there was several conversations going at once now; kingsley and moody were muttering to each other about something more serious than the tone at the table, while bill and remus chuckled to each other. but the second your name was spoke, he was zoned into your expression. "what have you been up to? i feel like i never see you outside of this place anymore!"

"yes, i'm sorry, dora," you smiled guiltily. "work and order duties have been keeping me plenty busy lately. we're getting closer to winter, which means people somehow get more reckless."

sirius couldn't help but smile at that little implication--you were still working as a healer, then. his mind flashed with memories of you patching him and the other boys up back in the hogwarts dormitories and the hell you would give them for their recklessness on nights other than the full moon. that helping, passionate y/n was still sitting in front of him, even if she was more reserved in present company. his heart sank when he acknowledged that it was mostly his presence tampering down your energy.

".. seems to happen every year!"

you suddenly let out a loud laugh at whatever anecdote tonks had just finished, and sirius snapped out his brooding mind. you held a hand to your mouth as the uncontrollable laughter spilled out, your friend looking positively self-satisfied as she shot a pointed look at sirius. he raised his glass minutely to her when he took a sip.

"you never fail to entertain, dora," you sighed and sirius found his eyes glued to your bright features; the flush on your happy face and the unconscious curve of your lips were so familiar to him that his heart ached. he knew he had to be smiling himself.

eventually, moody stood up to go and rest of the group followed. remus stayed behind, saying something about having a drink before turning in, but sirius's gaze was too focused on your retreating form and he found himself following the group to see them out.

they all gathered their coats and began to step out one by one, waving their tipsy and happy goodbyes to sirius as they went. you were the last of the group, and shockingly you offered him a wave and wary smile before turning around. he gave you a nod before turning, not wanting to press his luck with you any further this evening--he already had plenty of dream fuel for that night.

"by the way," you offered, and sirius immediately spun back around to see you gazing at him, but with a less cautious smile on your face, "i like the facial hair." you turned and left before sirius could even think to react. he let out a laugh when he could breathe again, grinning like a maniac to himself.

"what's got you kicking your feet?" remus questioned, nudging a glass of firewhisky toward sirius, who immediately took a swig before throwing his hands dramatically out.

"i'm never shaving again."

sirius noticed a serious increase in efforts to interact from you after that evening. it was never anything major--just more smiles and looks and you seemed to get more and more comfortable every time you returned to grimmauld place.

but it was two weeks later when it at all came together.

it had been a quiet day around the house, and sirius had just accepted that it was going to be a day without a visit from an order member when the front door opened. moments later, you stood in the kitchen doorway and his heart stopped.

you seemed taken aback to only see sirius standing there. "hello, sirius." his heart hammered as you placed a gentle hand on the doorframe. "sorry if i'm interrupting your evening.. has severus stopped by at all today?"

he couldn't help the burn of jealous that instinctively sparked in his chest at the idea of you seeking out severus instead of him. "no, not today." you nodded, still hesitating in the doorway. "why?"

you shrugged. "just checking in on hogwarts mostly. and harry." his lips quirked at that. a few moments of silence passed where he couldn't decide what to say, but knew that he would say anything to get you to stay at least a little longer. but just then, kreacher set down a dinner plate at the table and you broke the silence with a soft, "well, i'll let you get to your dinner, sorry if i interrupted your evening." you began to lean away and sirius couldn't let it happen.

"you should stay." the words came out quickly, and probably more desperately than he would have liked, but they made you pause. "for dinner," he clarified, and nearly immediately kreacher set another plate at the table. sirius had never felt a deeper appreciation for the house elf than in that moment.

you seemed to grapple with yourself internally for a moment, eyes locked on the plate of food and what it could possibly mean to you. residing it as his last effort, sirius spoke sincerely, "please." your eyes drifted to meet his and he couldn't read your expression, but you finally stepped into the kitchen.

"you've always been very convincing, sirius." he didn't bother to suppress his grin as he stepped over to help you remove your coat and pull out your chair for you. he scrambled to sit as you spoke your thanks, noticing how intensely his hands were shaking as you took a long sip of your water.

you both had barely began to eat when sirius couldn't hold his tongue any longer--not with you finally sitting alone with him. "how have you been, y/n?"

you nodded as you swallowed your bite of food. "good. things have been hectic lately, but i've been known to handle chaos well." you looked up at him to see him smiling knowingly and nodding along. a small smile crept to your lips as you spoke softly, "how have you been, sirius?"

hearing his name on your lips, so casually, was like a breath of fresh air and heaven all in one. he forgot his cabin fever for a moment. "fine enough."

"i'm glad," you spoke gently. he realized his gaze was heavily locked on you and rushed to look away, picking at his plate for a moment so as to not make you uncomfortable. he would never forgive himself if he ruined this night by being too eager.

there were a few minutes of silence where he tried to mentally dig up any casual conversation starter that wasn't ,"how's the weather?" or, "what did i miss?". but you put a stop to those thoughts when he heard you take a quiet, shaky breath.

"i'm sorry, sirius." your voice was no louder than a whisper, but his gaze snapped to you in an instant. you were staring down at your plate of food, fork trembling in your hand. "i-i know i've been terrible. i've been avoidant and distant and-and everything a wife shouldn't be." his heart broke at the tears that slipped down your cheeks. he bit his tongue and resisted the urge to wipe them away for you--this was your moment of truth, not his. "i've just had a hard time believing any of this is.." you lifted your head and wiped the tears from your cheeks, but your eyes still didn't meet his. "real."

sirius nodded. when it seemed you weren't going to speak again, he said quietly, "i know. me either, honestly." your gaze finally turned to him and you seemed less than surprised to find his already burning into yours. "from my imprisonment to my release, all of this has been unbelievable. and truly.." his hand inched toward yours on the table. he took it as a small victory when you didn't flinch away. "i don't blame you one bit for your reaction."

your gaze flicked between his hand, so close to yours, and his solemn face. "you don't?"

"no," he whispered seriously. "at first, i was hurt. remus heard me blubber about it for weeks." his heart swelled with a small bit of pride when your lips quirked at that. "but he helped me understand your perspective, and i see why you would be hesitant. you thought you were lied to, and after so many years you found out that that was a lie. it's hard to live like that."

you shook your head. "i'm so sorry, sirius." once again, his name was bliss on your lips. and he nearly ascended when your hand was the one that reached to his, fitting your palm perfectly into his grasp. he squeezed tight, feeling like a schoolboy again at the way such a small touch made his heart pound. "i never wanted to believe any of the lies, but.. when no one's around to tell you they're lies, it's so hard. and then to find out that i was right all along, it was such a shock, i.." you frowned at him. "i didn't know what to do. who to trust. it took me back to all of those years ago when you were taken from me and i could barely breathe, let alone think."

his heart ached for that past version of you that he couldn't comfort. but it swelled for the version of you that bared the truth to him now. "i know. and i swear, y/n, i will never give you a reason to doubt me again. i-if you choose to give me another chance."

he was worried he had jumped the gun when more tears slid down your cheeks. "sirius black, do you seriously think i would leave you now?"

sirius couldn't help the joy that forced him out of his chair. his arms wrapped around you, forcing you to stand with his embrace. you immediately clung to him and he never in his life had felt something so inherently right.

he pressed his lips to your hair and whispered, "i love you so much, y/n." at first he thought it was too quiet to hear until your face turned out of his chest and toward his.

"i love you, too, sirius," you spoke, and leaned in to kiss him. he instantly melted into you and realized his earlier thought was far too soon: this was right. this was everything.

sirius kissed you as delicately and as passionately as he could all at once; like he was trying to tell you about all of the thoughts he'd had of you over the years, of how he dreamed of this very moment, while at the same time praying that if this were a dream, he wouldn't shatter the illusion.

you kissed each other breathless, until you couldn't stand it. but standing in that cool kitchen with your foreheads pressed to each other, faces flushed and eyes hooded, it felt just as intimate as anything else.

"please, y/n," sirius whispered, "stay with me."

you pressed another long kiss to his lips. "i don't think there's any chance of getting me to go now." sirius couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. before either of you could say another word, he scooped you into his arms as you gasped. you laid a hand on his still-pounding heart as he carried you away to the stairs.

and as you lay in bed together, your eyes memorizing every feature of the face you hadn't gazed upon in far too long, you muttered to him one last apology, "i'm sorry. i had something so wonderful taken away from me once.. i couldn't bear if that same thing was taken again."

sirius's moonlit eyes turned to you, and the adoration in them stole your breath. you weren't sure your heart was going to survive this evening. he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "i'm not going anywhere, my love."

[emeraldserenade]

Soulmates Aren't Always Just Two ~ Joaquín Torres and Sam Wilson

synopsis: you've waited years to meet your other soulmate

tw: fem!reader, poly!Sam x poly!reader x poly!Joaquín, age gap (Sam is older than reader and Joaquín by 11 years after the Blip), angst, reader and Sam feel horrible about not having Joaquín from the beginning, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Another soulmate AU, hehe. I just love them, your honor.

I got WAY too carried away with the whole Sam thing in the beginning, so I had to make it a both Sam and Joaquín fic.

➽──────────────❥

You've known Sam since forever, he was your older brother's best friend. You've known he's your soulmate since your mark first appeared, he was there at the announcement party on your 18th birthday. The party of your closest family and friends to let them know if you were one of the few who didn't have one or if you had multiple.

You remember coming out of the bathroom, your mother in tow, and looking at Sam. Your eyes brimmed with tears, you would lie and say they were happy tears. You don't remember if you felt the jolt of the soul tie snap into place when you grabbed Sam's hand. Everyone was so busy congratulating you two for find your soulmate so young to properly remember. You struggled the whole night, wanting to tell Sam about the other and the fact that he was 16 years older than you.

You felt paralyzed having to tell Sam that you had another soulmate, you were sure he would hate you. But, he just hugged you and told him he had another two. You compared them and easily found out that whoever it was, was the same person for both of you.

You two felt broken, you loved Sam and Sam loved you, but you weren't in love. As time went on, it got easier for you two. You got used to the casual intimacy, the hand holding and small kisses pressed to cheeks, foreheads, and heads. The sitting with each other and being pressed against each other and the sharing things when there wasn't enough. You spent your joined family vacations in your own room, curled into each other while you stared blankly across his chest while he stared blankly ahead at the TV. You would talk about how you both felt ungrateful, that the only person who could understand what you were feeling was each other. You felt empty, like there was a missing piece because there was.

Then Sam left for the Air Force, you were told by their family coordinators that feeling lonely and empty while he was gone was common. And they weren't wrong, you did feel lonely, just not empty (or at least anymore empty than normal.) You feared that he would be hurt and you wouldn't see him again, but you weren't stuck in bed like they said you would be. You wrote letters back and forth when he couldn't talk over the phone, then he was home. His wingman, Riley, had died and Sam wanted to be sent home. You met him at the airport and he collapsed into your arms, allowing himself to cry in your hold.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Your dynamic changed from that day, Sam was scared of losing you too. You moved from Delacroix to DC with Sam, he said he wanted to help at the VA there. He wanted to help with soldiers who came back after war specifically, and you wanted to help Sam. The line was crossed, you went from platonic to romantic. Sam facing the fact that he could lose you before you found your third, paralyzed him.

Your families celebrated when you moved in together, they had been trying to get you married since you turned 18. It was a topic you and Sam discussed, and he bought you a ring. A trip down to Delacroix and one meticulously planned event from Sam and you two were engaged. You genuinely didn't see it coming, you thought he was just going to buy a ring and give it to you. But Sam wanted to propose, he loved you and wanted you to have the best he could give you.

You kept pushing the wedding back, at first you weren't ready, you wanted to enjoy your engagement. Then, it was you lost the venue (you didn't, you and Sam canceled it because it didn't feel right to get married without your third). Next, you two didn't want a summer wedding in the Louisiana heat. After that, Sam was helping Captain America and you two didn't have time. Finally, Sam was on the run and you had no contact with him. Or at least, everyone thought you had no contact with him.

But you did, a card showed up from Tony Stark at your door one day. A note in the envelope that read "If you want to know how Sam is, use this card at this address" and you did. Every time you wanted to know how Sam was, you would go to the small mom and pop convenience store and within the next week, a letter from Sam was safely tucked into the potted plant by the door.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

When Sam returned, a car from Tony Stark was at your door. You packed a bag and jumped in, you were just told that it was important. You showed up at the airport where a jet was waiting for you. A flight later, you were in the Avengers headquarters in upstate New York.

"Y/n," you heard Sam before you saw him, but when you did, you dropped your bag and went running.

"Holy shit, you're alive," you breathed out, squeezing him tighter. You hesitated to believe it was real, you had one too many dreams of this.

"Yeah, I'm alive, I'm alive, baby," Sam hugged you just as tight, the fear and anxiety from being away from you melting away.

"This is real? I'm not dreaming again?" You pulled away a little to look him in the eyes.

"This is real," Sam laughed and you smiled, you missed his laugh.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You sobbed and cried and screamed and threw things when you got the news. Sam was dusted because of the purple alien and you were left alone, alone to possibly find your other soulmate if they hadn't been dusted. You finally understood when the family coordinator told you when Sam joined the Air Force, the intense loneliness and emptiness. Steve and Natasha kept you company, told you stories about how Sam would tell them all about you when they had downtime.

You told them stories about Sam in return, how you two would spend a lot of time in the hotels depending on what was planned. Your families not concerned in the slightest about what you two got up to since you were soulmates. Your favorite stories were accompanied by wild hand gestures and colorful speech while your more solemn ones were accompanied by you spinning your engagement ring on your finger and you staring at a wall as you spoke.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You were back in DC when you got the call, Nat was dead, Steve was old, Tony was dead, and so many more things happened. Yet all you cared about was the fact that Sam told you he was on his way home.

You cleaned the house and fixed your hair and makeup, you barely had time to change out of your messy pajamas before Sam was at the door. He still had his goggles on, making it obvious that he flew from the airport here.

"You need to stop doing this to me," you mumbled into the base of his, his arms securely wrapped around you.

"I don't plan on ever doing this to you again," he told you, his hold tightening when your first sob broke out.

"I almost gave up, I almost called Nat and told her I wanted to move," you admitted. "It's been 5 years, Sam," you had to face the fact that you were no longer 16 year younger than him, you were only 11 years younger.

"I know, baby, I know," he was reeling from the fact that you went five years without him and it only felt like a blink of an eye to him.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Sam met Joaquín before you did and the two got awkward, Sam told Joaquín about you and Joaquín was relieved that Sam knew. Sam took Joaquín back to the apartment where Bucky and Zemo where, he wanted to keep Joaquín close.

"Sam? Is that you?" Your voice sounded from the small kitchen where you were finishing dinner, and Sam rushed over to pull you into his arms.

"You two remind me of me and my wife," Zemo mused and offered a Turkish Delight to Joaquín, Joaquín politely turned it down.

"What are you doing here?" Sam ignored Zemo but you offered him a smile at his words.

"Bucky told me what's happening, thought you could use a touch of home," you informed him and your eyes strayed to Joaquín, you knew right away without having to touch him. "Are you? Is he?" You looked between Joaquín and Sam, both nodding at you. You were pulling away from Sam with a quick kiss in an instant. "I'm y/n," you offered him your hand and he shook it, the soul tie snapping into place. You could finally say that your's and Sam's tie definitely did snap after your soul marks appeared.

"Joaquín," he told you and you were hugging him, your face buried into his neck and your tears falling hot on his skin. Joaquín didn't hesitate to pull you closer to him and Sam joined the hug as soon as he was around the island.

"Ah, there's three of you. How nice," Zemo awkwardly shuffled into the bathroom yet none of you cared.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You rushed to the hospital after Sam called, you could tell just from his voice that he blamed himself.

"Sam?" You walked into the observation room to find Sam watching them work on Joaquín.

"I saw Riley," he admitted and you hugged him.

"He's strong, love. Joaquín will make it through this," you comforted him.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"I heard about your talk with Sam, welcome back," you smiled at Joaquín as he awoke and you saw him look guilty. "How did I end up with you two? Sam blames himself and you're about to blame yourself. God, can we just all agree to blame Ross?"

"I'm sorry," Joaquín muttered and you just softly shook your head.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, love. You want to be like Sam and that's admirable," you reassured him before giving him a small kiss, one that was meant to calm him a bit more. It had the opposite effect and you heard the heart monitor pick up, you pulled away with a laugh.

"Is everything ok?" Sam came rushing in.

"Yeah, everything is fine. Joaquín's heart just started racing when I kissed him," you told Sam, both of you smiling and laughing as Joaquín grumbled about how he couldn't help how in love with you he was.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests

[oh-no-its-dragons]

Step Two

Bodhi knows exactly how it happened. When it settled. 

For @empyreanevents' Bodhi Week, day 5: Window

Personal challenge checklist: ☑ don't mention Xaden ☑ Bodhi has a nice day

(cw for lots of talking about sex and specifically one explanation of how sex can look from an aegosexual perspective. 🖤🤍💜 please keep in mind that I'm drawing heavily on my experience, but there are many different ways to exist on the ace spectrum. this is a direct sequel to yesterday's Step One, which was inspired by look around, look inside by @theoppositequeens.)

Somehow Ridoc had slotted himself into my life and made it look easy. I was used to thinking of myself as the odd one out, tagging along to social events that my friends had been invited to. 

Ridoc sought me out. Invited me, specifically. And at first I worried that meant I would have to stick around watching him be the life of the party long after I might have ducked out if I were alone, but instead he noticed. He checked in with me. Sometimes he kissed me good night before I left, and sometimes he left with me. 

It was good, but it took some getting used to. 

Ridoc was forthright about most things. "I have a hard time keeping my inside thoughts on the inside," he described it. It meant he didn't shy away from saying what he was feeling, even when what he was feeling was —

"I'm so horny I can't think," he announced, and not for the first time, but for the first time I answered him before he could say he was going to go see if Tyvon or whoever was around.

"I can help with that," I offered. I'd been thinking about it a lot, about what it might feel like to offer, what I would do if he took me up on it. Ridoc had been good at listening so far. 

It was fucking terrifying to risk it, but whatever we had was working so far. Gods, sometimes the thought that someone could understand me made me want to hide, because I was sure that if I were understood then he'd see that there was something wrong with me, some disconnect between my brain and my body that couldn't be fixed. 

"You don't have to do that just for me," Ridoc answered, almost automatically. "I thought you weren't into sex."

"I'm not, not exactly. Not the way people think of it. But I'm not into planning revenge on Henrick, and yet I like helping you with it. Because it's you, I guess." Ridoc opened his mouth and closed it again, and his throat bobbed like he was swallowing whatever he'd started to say. 

Watching him not talk was surprisingly adorable. Whether he was listening or thinking, his forehead scrunched up and he sometimes chewed on his lip like he was pouting. Ridoc could be a lot more than people seemed to realize; he was all over the place a lot of the time, sure, but when he did focus he was intense, like suddenly instead of being all warm, comfortable shades of brown I could see the frost in his eyes where his signet came from. 

But I needed to not get distracted, because he was talking again. "Are you okay talking about sex more than we have?"

"Yes," I said, because I was learning it was always yes with him, "but I haven't put a lot of things into words before, so it might be slow. Or I might say something and then realize I'm wrong."

"Most people are bad at talking about sex." Ridoc slid over until he was next to me on the bed. "Even people who fuck all the time! There's so many assumptions, guys who think everybody's automatically into the same things they're into, or people who will just get in bed with somebody but never say what they like best or ask their partner what they should start with."

"I thought everyone else just knew," I admitted, but it didn't feel like a bad thing when I was saying it to Ridoc.

Ridoc laughed. "When people ask me for sex advice, I have two things I always tell them. One of them is that if you want to be good at something, you have to practice."

"I bet most of them like that advice."

"You'd be surprised! A lot of people want to be good at things right off the parapet. It's more fun to think of yourself as a natural sex savant who's just instinctively good in bed, rather than as someone who's taken specific instructions about what to do with their tongue."

"What's the other thing?"

"It goes along with the first one, actually. It's talk to your partner. And I give that advice because people don't do it. I know this because a lot of people are surprised when I do."

I nodded at that. "So, what, as soon as I brought up something sex-related, you want to talk about it?"

"If that's okay with you, yes, I want to talk about it. Because I meant it when I said I don't want you to feel like you're obligated to get me off. Sex isn't — well, at least it doesn't have to be transactional like that. So, let's go back a little bit. What's sex like for you? What have you done that you enjoyed?" Ridoc slid so close he could throw his legs over me and he was practically sitting in my lap. He laid his head on my shoulder.

I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him tighter against my chest. Like I was eight and he was my old sheep stuffie. "For me, it feels like sex is two different things that everybody else can do at the same time, and I can only do one or the other. I can focus on my partner or I can do the thinking that gets me off."

I felt Ridoc nod, his hair tickling my neck. "Can you tell me more about that?" When I glance down, I notice a bulge in his leathers. 

"Are you turned on by this?" I asked him, trying to twist my neck so I could see his face without making him move.

"Yeah, sexy talk is totally a turn-on for me." He huffed a laugh, his breath warm against my shirt. 

"Is this sexy? Or just about sex?" I was curious.

"Both. It's the same thing to me. And you are changing the subject."

"I didn't mean to," I told him, sighing. "Okay, so focusing on my partner is easy to understand, right? I'd just be touching you, using my fingers, maybe even my cock, but it's not about me getting turned on or staying turned on or whatever."

Ridoc nodded. "That part makes sense, yes."

"Actually getting off is much easier for me to do alone." It was hard to talk about it without the shame welling up about being selfish, or thoughtless, or rude. "I can't focus on a partner. It's like trying to control magic without grounding. I need to be… in my head, I guess. Like I'm watching through a window, like I need to focus on what I'm thinking and what I can feel."

I trailed off when I realized that Ridoc was watching me intently. A smile played on his mouth and there was hunger in his eyes that I didn't understand. "Do you know what that sounds like to me, Bodhi?"

"...Selfish?" Maybe if I said it first, it wouldn't sting as much when he agreed.

"No!" He shifted in my lap, pushing at my chest until I lay back on the bed and he was on top of me. Ridoc pushed his chest up so he could meet my eyes. "You don't sound selfish. You sound like a challenge."

I wanted to pull away, to leave the room, except it was my room and I didn't really want Ridoc to stop being on top of me. "A challenge to see if you can fix me?" I asked, still unsure what he meant.

"A challenge to learn what you like. What works for you. What if I said I wanted to learn to be what you need in all the ways, not just cuddling?" Ridoc was fully smirking now. "Would you like it if I kissed you?"

"Yes," I answered before I'd even finished processing the first part of the question, and Ridoc was on me like he was late to breakfast and I was the last sausage on the tray. There was that focus again, the absolute certainty that my mouth was the only thing in the world worth his attention right now.

And in that moment I believed him. I believed him when he said he wanted to learn me. I believed that I could be learned, not fixed.

If I let him, he would take me apart, not to put me back together, but purely to enjoy the picture I made as he did it.

I still wasn't sure it was possible, but I could tell Ridoc was sure. That, more than anything, made me willing to try.

[the-sprog]

Caving and writing a plot bunny because I have ideas and now this is too flashed out not to write a fic for it, and I'll forget if I don't write it down somewhere

Timeline I've come up with:

Nicky AU where Sonic has been, for years, telling his parents that he (as Nicky) is part of team Sonic, but he only does coding (like for robots and their communicators) for them and never fights in the front lines.

What happened is that after a few months of Sonic taking over Nicky's body to save the day, Nicky started to take care of the issues himself out of spite. Done with the fact that everyone liked Sonic more than him. It came to a point that Sonic didn't show up anymore, making Eggman (who went to Hedgehog village for Sonic) lose interest with the place.

When he turned 6, he moved away to go live with Uncle Chuck, so he could study somewhere more challenging. He an Amy barely talked anymore, as she would turn every conversation into Sonic praise, worsening Nicky's inferiority complex. During his stay in the bigger city, Eggman attacks and Nicky figures out he's been Sonic all along. And running? Oh, he LOVES running.

However, he starts getting severe social anxiety fueled by a really strong impostor syndrome, causing the start of his selective mutism. For a while, Uncle Chuck is the only one he talks to as Sonic (Nicky still goes to class without issues).

That's when he meets Amy again. She left home shortly after Nicky to go find Sonic and join in his adventures. I imagine that her relationship with her parents wasn't all that great, so she decided to run away when Nicky, her only safe space, left.

Meeting her really hammer in that he's not good enough to be Sonic, as Sonic used to have no issues beating Eggman and his robots to scrap metal.

Not too long after, he meets Tails, who had actually been to Hedgehog village for Sonic as well and knew Nicky and Sonic were the same person. He explains to Nicky (while fixing up the Tornado (who is actually Uncle Chuck's)) that Sonic told him he was from the future and that he couldn't explain what had actually happened in fear of messing up the timeline and creating a paradox. He said that everything will be explained in due time and that he's sure Nicky will figure everything out.

At first, Sonic talked to Tails, too. But it was clear that Tails, just like Amy, had a very specific idea of how Sonic was. Scared of disappointing Tails by being too much like Nicky, he stops talking with him as well. When Uncle Chuck dies, they take the Tornado to start traveling and fighting Eggman. This is when he tells his parents that he joined Team Sonic, saying that he wanted to repay them after they helped him stop Eggman. In exchange to letting him come, he gave them the Tornado.

He continues his studies remotely, still as Nicky if course.

It isn't until the end of the whole Angel Island Death Egg situation that Sonic speaks for the first time in forever. The whole adventure, the emeralds, helping Knuckles, it all made him feel... like himself. Like for the first time he actually was Sonic. Knuckles never learns that Sonic used to not speak, because he was under the impression they were just busy with Eggman and that Sonic was simply a hedgehog of few words until he got closer to people.

Shadow only learns about it when he meets Classic Sonic. The time shenanigans is also how Nicky was becoming Sonic.

Until his mom, Brenda, and his sister, Anita, come surprise visit them. The team had kind of settled down, mostly to give Tails an actual workshop. Afterall, between the Tornado, Shadow's chaos control, and Sonic's running they had no issues getting to wherever was getting attacked.

When Amy opens the door to see Brenda, she's confused, but excited. Before she can say anything wrong, Sonic invites them in, telling them he'll go get Nicky, and pulling Amy to the side to ask her to just go along with whatever Nicky says. She doesn't get the chance to ask how he knows where Nicky is and why his mom thinks he's at their house, but she agrees.

Sonic goes to tell Tails, warning him about Any possibly blowing their entire cover.

As Nicky, Sonic puts on glasses and an oversized sweater. He changes his iconic shoes (with a non small amount of reluctance) and takes things slow.

Amy is... Conflicted. She's happy to see Nicky, truly, but she's not happy that he's lying to his mom and sister. She doesn't understand why he's doing it, as to her it doesn't seem like him. She remembers him a lot... Meeker. Smart and nerdy, but kind of a coward. She'd always thought he'd have gotten along with Tails if they'd had the chance to properly meet, and there they are. Acting like they've been friends for years.

When Shadow shows up, Sonic thinks he's going to fuck it all up. Amy accidentally saves him by introducing him as Nicky, to which Tails explains he's the one that deals all their tech related problems and needs.

Shadow sees through it, raises an eyebrow, and asks if they're fucking with him. They assure him not. Then Brenda and Anita introduce themselves and Shadow takes Sonic aside to get a better explanation. Which he gets in the form of panicked rambling. Shadow agrees not to rat him out, but he also doesn't agree to cover for him.

Shadow tells everyone that he was supposed to meet Sonic for a run, but that the hedgehog bailed on him to go help the Chaotix. Internally, Sonic cusses him out because he knows he'll have to pay then for their silence.

Amy tries to get him to stay, as they'd made plans with Knuckles to have a picnic nearby, but Shadow claims to have some GUN paperwork to deal with. Sonic knows it's bullshit. He knows Shadow doesn't do paperwork.

But she convinced Brenda and Anita to join them.

Nicky meets Knuckles, gets his hand fake crushed (which he lets his mom bandage and ice) and yells at Anita when she says she wants to be part of Team Sonic, too.

Of course, that's when Eggman attacks. Seeing Nicky, Eggman immediately targets him. For old times' sake, he says.

Any tries to contact Sonic but he's not available, so she contacts Chaotix, but they say he's not with them. Tails tells her to call Shadow, and she -reluctantly- does.

Shadow helps save Sonic, making it clear that he's going to hold this over his head forever.

Anita is distraught.

Amy asks Shadow why he said Sonic was with Chaotix.

Sonic tries punching Shadow for his shitty lie. He doesn't succeed, as he's determined not to use his speed, and Shadow gets him in a headlock. Calmly, he says he doesn't know why Sonic would lie to him, but the hedgehog is not his problem. He lets go of Nicky, who gets fussed over by his mom.

Tails, who's been keeping this secret for years, decides that throwing Sonic under the bus to save Nicky some grief is justified. So, he tells them that Sonic has severe social anxiety and does do well meeting new people in these kinds of circumstances. And that he's never met parents of friends he's made, and he couldn't face them.

On the one hand, Sonic gets upset at Tails for telling everyone about it because yeah it's kind of based on the truth. But on the other, it's his mom and sister (and Amy but she kind of already knew. Shadow also knew but not the reason behind it all. So he knows he's going to have to answer questions about it) so he pushes it down.

This is all I have for now actually lol idk how this fic would continue, but I think this start is kinda good. Maybe Eggman fucked up too much and Sonic reveals himself. Idk.

[sundrop-writes]

[Hope this is okay]

Could you do a wee thing about the Teen Wolf guys supporting their [mate/partner/wife/other] giving birth?

Your teen wolf stuff hits me right in the feels and I am thinking of this one a lot lately.

see, this is why I love keeping old requests in my inbox, because then when I am feeling the creative flow for that fandom again, I can just go back to those requests

also, I just picked four of the first guys from the show that came to mind, but please let me know if you want me to talk more about Vernon or Jackson or others. they are underappreciated and I love them too

Teen Wolf requests are OPEN. Please read my Rules before requesting!

How would the Teen Wolf boys help you through giving birth?

Included: Isaac Lahey, Scott McCall, Derek Hale, and Stiles Stilinski.

Warnings: usually I try to do GN!Reader with my reactions, but this one called for Fem!Reader - so the reader uses she/her pronouns and has the ability to get pregnant; obviously, there is mentions of giving birth and the types of medical complications that can come with it (though I purposefully didn't go into too much detail with the unpleasant aspects of giving birth); in every single one of these situations, the reader is dating the specific character and the pregnancy would be due to having sex with them, even if it's not explicitly mentioned; mentions of the reader's stomach 'getting rounder' with the progression of pregnancy, but this isn't meant to indicate that she was previously thin, just a mention of pregnancy causing the stomach to look more filled out; mentions of general Teen Wolf themes like danger, the main characters being targeted by killers, etc.; and I think that's pretty much it for this. This is mostly just fluff about our favourite guys. And like usual with my reaction fics, it's unedited.

A/N: Also I apologize in advance because I kind of went haywire toward the end and just had fun coming up with dramatic situations where someone could give birth. It's the fanfic writer in me - nothing can be peaceful, everything has to have some kind of drama.

...

Isaac would be incredibly sweet and attentive.

Isaac is someone who is good under pressure - in fact, because of his (deeply unfortunate) childhood, he genuinely thrives under pressure. He didn't react well when he found out that you were pregnant - at first, he believed that he wouldn't be well suited to being a father, and he genuinely believed that you wouldn't want him to be the father of your baby, so he tried to run from the whole situation for a while.

But once you assured him through love that you knew he would make an amazing father, he had the whole duration of your pregnancy to settle in to the idea of it, and he shifted from skiddish and timid and seemingly constantly terrified to hurt to you to someone who was far more confident as your partner. He turned into a genuine support system.

He became someone who cradled your stomach, constantly had a hand on your back, always ensured the safety of you and your unborn baby - whether it was something as small as you lifting a box or carrying in groceries, he went out of his way to take care of you.

So during your labour, he was nothing short of a servant. He put a cold cloth on your head, made sure you always had water with a straw ready at your lips the moment you turned your head, made your voice was heard so that you got exactly what you wanted and needed. And of course, he was the type of partner to bring you a giant serving of whatever food you were craving that you hadn't been able to have during pregnancy once you had been medically cleared, and he had been assured that everything with you and your new baby was fine.

He would do anything for you, and he had no problem letting everyone around you know that.

...

Scott would be a nervous wreck.

Scott is someone who is really unsure and when he has time to think about things too much, he begins to panic. So him having multiple months to think about everything that could go wrong with your pregnancy would just mean that he has multiple months to panic about it. He is excited to be a father, yes - but he is also absolutely terrified about it.

So when you called him and told him to rush to the hospital because you had gone into labour, Scott found himself stalled. He rushed to the hospital, found out what room you were in, and then - for some idiotic reason - found himself stuck in the hallway. His brain was desperate for ways to cope, and as he sat on a plastic chair outside of your room, bouncing his knee, he kept thinking about the fact that if he didn't go inside your room, then nothing could go wrong. At the very least, he wouldn't know it if anything went wrong.

But eventually, his mother came out - looking to get you a cup of water - and she gave him a harsh, disapproving glare when she found him sitting there when you had complaining that he had been late and not answering his phone. And after a stern talk where she told him that it didn't matter if he was scared, parents have to push down their fear and just do it anyway (because that's what she had been doing for him during his whole life) - he finally stepped through the threshold and found you sitting on the bed.

You were in some pain, but otherwise - perfectly fine.

And when he held your baby in his arms for the first time, he realized that what his mom said was absolutely true. He would just have to face this like he had faced deadly Alphas and hunters and giant killer lizards - terrified, pretending to be brave, and most of all: with love in his heart reminding him what was most important. He would push past all of his fear because he loved you and your new baby.

...

Derek would be incredibly protective.

Right from the moment that you found out you were pregnant, Derek was incredibly protective of you. He was weary of you riding in the car with anyone else driving but him - and in fact, he traded in his Camaro for something with much higher safety ratings, and a roomier backseat so that he could install a highly rated carseat (which looked odd to outsiders when your pregnancy wasn't even showing and you didn't have a baby to put in there, but he wanted to be well prepared). He insisted on preparing all your food himself to make sure it was safe, and any time you slept, he stayed away to keep watch over you.

From the moment he knew you were carrying his baby, he became a slave to his wolfish instincts, needing your safety to be his top priority at all times.

So naturally, this meant that he didn't trust you to be locked up in some hospital to give birth. After a lot of discussion about why it was important to him, you agreed to participate in a ritual that was ingrained into the Hale family for generations - giving birth outside. It was a werewolf thing - the need to commune with nature, especially when a baby's life was just beginning. Derek set up a very nice tent for you, and called upon the Hale family emissary - Deaton - to help you through your birth.

But other than that, he was very strict about who else was allowed to be around, still incredibly protective over you. He held your hand the entire time, coached you through the pain with soothing words and a strong hand on your back. And ultimately, your baby was born under the light of the full moon, the first member of the new generation of a strong Hale family that Derek once believed to be dead.

...

Stiles would be an unexpected hero.

Someone who threatened to faint at the sight of blood and once nearly vomited just at the mention of having to amputate Derek's arm during a similar type of medical emergency - he literally became your rock. It was a well known fact that Stiles loved to research, and from the moment that he found out you were pregnant, he had a book in his hands, a highlighter between his teeth as he tried to force himself to remember all the relevant information about breastfeeding, infant neck support, foods that could be harmful to a nursing mother.

And as your stomach grew rounder and your due date drew nearer, something that Stiles grew increasingly obsessed with researching was field deliveries. You had a birth plan in place - you were going to go to the hospital, and Melissa and Stiles were more than prepared to advocate for what you wanted - a drug free, natural delivery with very little medical intervention.

But for some reason, Stiles - every the paranoid one, especially after everything he had been through - was growing increasingly fixated on the idea that you simply wouldn't make it to the hospital once your labour started. So he had to soothe himself by researching stories of babies who had been delivered in the backs of taxis, babies who had been delivered on the side of the road, babies who had been delivered on boats in the middle of the ocean and technically didn't have a legal country of origin.

And he also became increasingly obsessed with researching any possible complications you might have during labour - because he believed that he would have to be the one to deliver your baby. And when you came across him with his laptop open, watching delivery videos again like a how to - you told him that if he didn't stop fixating on this, stressing you out, then you were going to give birth in the middle of the floor.

Little did you know - once again, his intuition had been spot on.

So when you got stuck at The Beacon Hills Animal Clinic - the power knocked out due to a raging thunderstorm, a circle of Mountain Ash that Deaton had put down being the only thing keeping you, Scott, and Stiles from being torn apart by a pack of raging Alphas - and of course, by your luck, just then your water broke and your contractions rocketed forward two minutes apart...

It was then that Stiles stepped up and actually insisted that it was one of the better situations you could have been 'stuck' in. You were surrounded by medical supplies - the Mountain Ash was keeping the Alphas at bay. You had all the time in the world, and all you had to do was trust him. So you held Scott's hand and stared into Stiles's eyes, and he used all of his well researched knowledge to bring your baby safely into the world.

...

If you enjoyed this, definitely check out the rest of my Teen Wolf Masterlist

[desturns]

when reporter!matt stood outside the wedding venue talking to his friend on the phone, the last thing he expected to happen was seeing bridemaid!reader run past him.

“yeah, man, i’ll probably be here for another forty,” matt mumbled into his phone as he glanced down at his watch, the boredom seeping from his tone like a leaky gas pipe. “so, i dunno, if y’want to get drinks, ‘m down–”

“let's go, ziggy, go!” a sort of feminine and pitchy voice cuts him off, obviously in a hurry by the way she speeds past him, holding up her dress so she doesn't trip.

jacob is speaking over the phone, pestering matt over why he went so silent all of the sudden, but matt was too focused on the way the girl threw herself into the taxi that immediately drove off once she got in. the way the driver shouted back at her like they'd known each other their whole lives. and the sight of the girl's thong as she quickly ditched her dress.

his eyes widened and a slight flush appeared on his cheeks. . . yet for some reason, he didn't look away as the taxi got farther and farther. it was only when jacob was about to cancel on the plans when matt was snapped back into reality.

the whole wedding was a drag if you'd ask matt. it was the typical bullshit of trading vows, rice getting thrown around, bridesmaids and groomsmen dancing and sneaking off together during the reception. matt was thrilled that it was almost over and by the time the bride called for all the single women to the floor, he wanted to actually cheer for joy. not that he cared for the throwing of the bouquet in the first place—he already had enough of the women in that crowd flirting with him.

he listened to the bride make her speech, her words translating to a bunch of “blah blah blah”s in his head. it was the same every time, anyway. his eyes did a short sweep of the women in the crowd. too old, too young, looks clingy, definitely off her rocks tonight–

oh. the girl with the white lacy thong, and she was wearing the same dress she took off in the back of the cab. she didn't look to be in a rush or shouting for anyone this time, but she did look absolutely enthralled as the bride spoke, hanging onto every word she was saying. his eyes crinkled a bit in amusement, but what was the real kicker?

when he saw her get pummeled to the ground when the bouquet was heading in her direction.

he couldn't resist the opportunity to help the poor bridesmaid that got knocked over. what, with the way everyone else seemed to disregard her, too busy pretending that catching the bouquet actually meant anything in terms of their love life. and maybe he wanted to know why she was getting naked in the back of a taxi before.

when he reached her and knelt down, her eyes were closed and her head was swaying just slightly. he was able to get a better look at her face, or rather, the way her lips were parted and the few stranglers of hair fell around it. she was really. . . pretty, if matt was being honest.

“miss? y’still with us?” he spoke gently despite the small smirk on his face as he watched her slowly, yet surely, regain consciousness. her eyes placed on him like he was a complete stranger, which was fair, he was.

not for long, though.

“yeah. . . i think,” you muttered after groaning from feeling your head throb on your left side, already cursing out paloma for shoving you too hard like you were some rag doll. with the man's help, you grab his hand and allow him to pull you up softly, not even letting go as you wobbled once on your feet again.

matt was quick to place his other hand behind your back for balance, his eyes sweeping over your face once more. “woah, woah, slow down, yeah? don't move too fast, you hit your head kinda hard.”

“i can thank the bitch with the sunflower in her hair for that,” you signed as you looked back over at paloma, eyes rolling as you realized she was the one to grab the bouquet. you looked back at the man—this gorgeous, blue eyed man who made you feel kind of good in getting his attention, even from falling—and shook your head, dismissing the knockout. “i’m fine. really, just a little. . . unprepared. it happens more than you think, to be honest.”

“you usually get pushed and hit your head on the way down?” he mused, his hand finally releasing yours yet his other never leaving your back. just in case you wobbled again, obviously.

his comment made you feel a little flustered, but the humor in it made your mind switch to that from the fact that your head was still throbbing. you brought your hand up the side where you fell as if rubbing the area would help at all. “nah, but you know what they say. . . bouquet catching is a serious sport. very dangerous.”

a small, amused grin broke out on matt's face. if anyone knew about the "dangers" of bouquet catching, it was him—he'd seen at least 70 by now, all with their own accidents. but you were funny, and he liked that. when he offered to get you a drink at the open bar, you refused because you weren't a drinker, but that didn't stop matt from continuing conversation with you. or making sure that you got home when he saw you were still a little light on your feet.

it was a silent ride between you, matt, and the cab driver who you had used all night. he couldn't help, though, but to be curious about what he saw before. and what perfect time to bring it up than any?

“i like your thong, by the way,” his nonchalant voice cut through the silent and through your thoughts, your head immediately snapping over to him with a confused look.

“i'm sorry?”

“no, it's just–okay, maybe that wasn't the best way to ask, but before i saw you get undressed in the back of this here very taxi. saw your thong. it was quite a show.”

realization hit you and before you knew it, you were a blushing mess. you didn't think to check your surroundings before getting changed, but in your defense, you were in a hurry. it wasn't easy attending two weddings in one night. you found yourself biting your lip to stop from laughing, a nervous habit you had whenever in an awkward situation, and just nodded your head. “sorry you had to see that, gosh, that's. . . really embarrassing, wow. . .”

“eh, don't be embarrassed. you looked good,” he shrugged his shoulders, noticing the way his comment had somehow made you even more flustered than before. “can i ask why you were getting nude in the back of a city cab. . .? y’know, not that i’m judging or anything.”

you sighed softly, a small giggle escaping you as you could only feel your cheeks heat up more. “um, well, i was in two wedding parties tonight, so. . .”

his eyes nearly bugged out of his head. to matt, the less weddings he had to cover the better, but to hear someone be that dedicated to making both in one night? it was a little surprising and slightly humorous to him. and if anything, he was more intrigued by you than before.

he didn't know what it was, but when the taxi finally pulled up to your apartment and you gave the cab driver $140 because he “knew what he did”, matt was curious about you. and when you left your bulky journal behind in the car. . . he was gonna satisfy that curiosity.

A/N guys new au!! this is the introduction and i cannot wait to write lil blurbs and shit off these two. don't be afraid to ask about them! i plan on doing some major world building <3 love yall!

also, @throatgoat4u also has a 27 dresses au!

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

[xmaruu11]

Hello! Fellow comic writer here ^-^ Hope you and Doody are taking a little downtime after the recent update!

I discovered DH just after the Mother Spore arc, and I was curious how quickly the series grew to the audience it has now. Was it steady and gradual or did something give it a boost all at once?

I HAD THIS ASK SITTING IN MY ASKBOX FOR MONTHS CUZ I WANNA TALK SO BAD ABOUT IT !! BUT LIFE HAPPENED AND I COULDNT

Get ready for story time!

A lot of people think DDVAU started in 2024, after mother spore. But it didn't. Yes the boom of the story was January-February 2024, but the story has been going on since 2022, November 2022.

When we started DDVAU Doody and I were both University students, in our second year im pretty sure, so the updates didn't have a schedule and there wasn't an overarching plot. The idea for the mother spore arc happened in january / february 2023. But at that point we were working on chapter 10 and the valentines special. And then life happened, personal stuff happened and we took a hiatus until August 2023, and then December 2023. Again, it took,, time...

DDVAU had a small following at that time, and both of us were okay with that, we weren't expecting the amount of support it had during that time (2k notes per update), we felt overwhelmed with love at that point!

Then mother spore part 1 happened, december 2023. That was the first time I decided to go crazy on twitter and start posting with // DDVAU spoilers, and just be a fan of my best friend work. I didn't know that by doing that, it called a lot of people attention. This chapter ended up in a cliffhanger AND it showed a lot of other characters that we never shown before, so a lot of people were interested because their favorite guy appeared! Also we had multiple pretty cute moments between characters. Then people started livetweeting and sharing their opinion using DDVAU spoilers. It kinda snowballed after that. People asked what it was and people shared.

Doody and I thought it was gonna just be that, one simple update and then it stopped. BUT IT DIDNT! Then February 2024, Mother Spore 2 came out, and the whole process of last time repeated. And since this one had more action, everyone was more curious and more interested in what was going on. I keep tweeting and interacting with fans, cuz I am patient 0, DDVAU biggest fan.

THEN the DDVAU server happened, and a lot of people started joining, and I joined as well. People shared fanart, theories, we were able to chat and be nerds with each other. It build up hype for the next hiatus since again.. Doody and I were still university students.

Mother Spore and the end of volume 1 dropped in August 2024. The process repeated again, I also streamed again to keep the hype up. Doody and I yapped for hours and shared fun tweets and live reactions.

AND THEN, the first merch drop happened and once again people were surprised and sharing their thoughts and ideas and everything. Then our lovely friends and guys at the DDVAU server, planned an entire Zine for christmas to surprise doody and I, which again CRAZY!!

Then volume 2 happened, we started uploading it to webtoon and just kinda, kept doing what we like. The monthly schedule helps to build up hype, monthly streams and just,, having fun with my friend helps a lot.

But of course, nothing would have happened if we didnt have so many lovely and wonderful people that just support everything we do. All the lovely people who buy merch and support the kofi (since its the only way we actually get paid as an indie project), all the lovely people who are in the discord, share on twitter and tumblr and tiktok and literally anywhere.

Its always great and so lovely :D

DDVAU growth didnt happened overnight, we worked for a year before mother spore exploded, and then we just kept sharing our passion and love for this story, causing so many more people two get interested.

This is a dream came true, and I wanna thank everyone for letting us live in it

[igglemouse]

Week 1 ~ Introducing Magdalena ~ Tuesday

I start the day greeted by little energetic barks from my little guy Bruno. He's very happy to see me although I was just in the other room? I suppose I should move his bed to my room one day, I can't imagine being a little guy like he is and spending that much time alone.

Honestly, it was a selfish decision to adopt him. I didn't want to be here all alone all day long either so I suppose he wouldn't want that either but it looks like he won't hold a grudge against me as long as I give him his ball.

Such a cute little fella! There will be no singing about how we won't talk about him in this house, no no no.

The relationship I have with my sister is what you might expect. One of love and loyalty...but, there is one catch. She's a little loca. Crazy in the head, no? Perhaps that's too harsh but she proudly runs with the wrong crowd and while I do love her, to death, I also try to keep a safe distance from whatever she's up to in fear that I might get pulled into it. Sometimes it feels like even phone calls might put me in danger.

It's nice to hear from her though?

I can't allow her to get in front of my dreams or ambitions and I will not allow being a little unfit to also get ahead of them. While I failed the last audition I am doing all I can to pass the next. Failure is just an obstacle, just a bit of challenge to leap over and I will clear each one put before me, eventually.

Can someone also tell me why it's so chilly outside as well? I guess it's one of those DSV things huh? Random weather?

But I do have some very good news, very very good news even. I got the part! Yep! The music video! In fact, it all happens today! I'll be heading out a little later for it and to prepare I've decided to listen to a lot of Marco's music to get a better feel for him and watch a few of his videos. I know it's just a music video and my part in it will be eye candy but I have to do my best for every opportunity I get because that alone could be my big break. You never know whose watching, after all.

As for Marco, I'm aware of him, casually, but I am finding that a lot of his music is so very romantically inclined. Just songs about love and passion and heartbreak and more love! He's a real crooner with a very smooth voice and whenever he sings in Selvadoradean it does make me feel a certain way...just a little bit!

I can't wait to tell papa about it and he's just about as excited about it as I am. He only hopes that the video is tasteful for me, reminding me that it might upset my mom if it isn't. I'm not sure why that matters? Mama is kind of a hater, my hater, as crazy as that sounds, but let's not dwell on her right now, yes?

I cannot go out without making sure everyone is fed though because how can you be at your best on an empty stomach? I do think Bruno is coming around to me but I suppose food helps a lot with that and it's so cute hearing him munch away happily but I will have to go and leave him alone for a bit, unfortunately. Maybe one day I can afford a sitter, right now that is not the case. Also, maybe one day I can afford bitter dinners than grilled cheese sandwiches. Could be worse, sure sure, but could be better, no?

It was a drive that had to be at least over an hour long because of course the wealthy live far far away from us regulars but arriving to the hills of DSV hit me hard. This is where I wanted to be, a house on the hills, looking down at the city beyond, living the good life. Perhaps this is my first step towards that moment?

The place before me was exactly as I expected, sleek, modern, and had to be worth close to a million simoleons? I could even imagine myself in it one day or in a place like it, ambling around comfortably and enjoying the result of my artistry on the big screen. Watching movies in my personal theater, working out in my personal gym, all before heading out for a lavish trip before I go off for my next big role. That, is what I imagined.

Unfortunately, my little day dreams are broken up by reality the moment I step through the doors.

The director, a man named Elijah Love, greets me with an imaginary smile and lets me know that this is all business and time is simoleons. Something I should always keep in mind moving forward.

So, I find myself in a bathroom again, posing and preening in front of a mirror. I am reminded of the question that Jaxton, the casting guy asked of us yesterday. Am I prepared for the world to see me in this way?

I turned this way and that, making sure that everything was covered. Despite the loose nature of the robe there were pasties over more sensitive areas just in case something slipped, so that wouldn't be an issue, but still, this video would be seen by millions? Was I ready for that?

I decided there was a line and that this wasn't it. I've seen Marco's videos, they were always classy and focused on romance, which sometimes focused on sensuality of love. There is nothing wrong with a little sexiness, no?

Besides, I look amazing!

It was then time for me to perform and I should add, improvise. Elijah gives me one simple direction. Be Alluring.

Easy enough. I settle on the piano, the top part of it? Not sure what that is called but it doesn't matter. I matter, that's where the lens are focused, I'm what the viewer will see.

I go for simplicity because my goal isn't to distract, it's to blend in to the video, it's to make sure that no one ever imagines this video with anyone but me. You might think it selfish but this is a selfish business.

The bigger the star the more the universe will rotate around it...

Speaking of gravity and physics, Marco Aparicio proved my point the moment he walked in. There was an aura about him, a man who was used to getting his way, a man who knew that one simple smile was all that was needed to disarm someone and a man, most importantly, that captured my attention immediately. My eyes locked onto his and instantly I felt something, a spark, maybe? A connection definitely. I hopped off of the piano to greet him, thinking this might be the start of something I could never expect and yet...

It was nothing. A simple nice to meet you with a courteous smile, I honestly don't think he looked at me for more than five seconds. Ouch.

I told myself I wouldn't be star struck and I wasn't. It was worse. I was in love. I think anyone seeing this video will say a few things and will comment on my performance but...this is no performance. The dance and small moments and the kiss, all of it was...well, you might as well have called me a method actress in this moment because I imagined it as real. I could imagine me and him, a couple, living in a place like this, a collision of stars that brightens the universe for the short time we exist within it...

Then I was back home, watching the cooking channel, and doing my best to forget it ever happened. It was a job and it was business. Marco certainly treated it as such. How many women have I seen in his videos today? Every video of his features one or another and each one bleeds passion through the screen and music. I was just another video girl in the end and here I am watching some old woman lecture her audience about the importance of a good thermometer for roasting turkey.

Still. I wonder if there was something more there...

Index ~ Next

[911confessions]

There's something about what's going on with the Triangle that makes me think people treat Buck as a Love Interest and not a MC because of the way the show frames him sometimes.

Like he was Abby's LI in season 1 - yes, he had development (a lot of it, but it was largely focused on her - he still credits her for his choice to change).

In season 2, they give him a sister (whose own storyline mainly focused on Doug and Chimney, they barely talk about Maddie crashing into his life after 3 years of silence and only focus on the sibling relationship when Doug attacks). Meanwhile Bucks out there bringing Carla to Eddie, attending Santa visits and boosting Eddie the entire time... Hes a little like Eddie's potential love interest.

This continues in S3 when he should be focusing on himself to get better and heal and address those abandonment issues he has and yet, it's all about Eddie feeling betrayed that his friend of barely a year couldn't talk to him for a couple of weeks. Like he didn't need Buck before the lawsuit yet somehow it was a big deal during and after... He apologized a billion times, Eddie never apologized.

And now with Tommy. People act like Bucks the one in the wrong when Tommy led him on. He never planned to be more than casual. He deliberately didn't try to get close to him, held him at a distance because he knew he was going to break up with him.

Like Buddies and Bucktommies both treat Buck as a LI. Like his bisexuality supported Eddie's coming out or Tommy get a family again with the 118.

And I think, despite having his own storylines and being an MC, the show kind of treats him that way too. Want drama? Give it to Buck, but don't spend too long dealing with it.

I mean, his first long term adult GF ghosts him, his sister comes back but even at Christmas only wants Chim and not her brother, he helps out the single dad but then he's expected to put C&E first even though he got his leg crushed, had a PE and then forced to babysit leading him to almost die in tsunami... All he wants is to not be left behind and be treated differently and everyone continues to prove he's all alone (Red showed that). Like wow.

Anyway, as an actual fan of Buck,.it really sucks that I get into the show and realize he's a LI to shippers. A prop whose feelings don't actually matter to them. It's sad.

I think Buck as a whole is very much a people pleaser. He gets happiness from making sure the people around him are happy and content even if that's at his own expense, which sucks. I feel your frustration for sure, and you bring up a lot of good points. I think what makes it sting even more is that Buck consistently gives so much of himself to others—Abby, Maddie, Eddie, and now Tommy—but rarely gets that same depth of emotional investment back from the narrative. The show gives him big emotional beats, but then kind of skips over the aftermath or redirects it to support someone else's development.

The Tommy situation is another example. People keep focusing on Buck’s feelings as if they’re a complication rather than valid. He was vulnerable, and yet he’s the one getting flak for wanting more while Tommy was always planning to walk away and never fully committed himself to Buck. He thought Buck wasn't ready and made the decision for him.

You're right—it does feel like he’s often treated as a narrative tool to serve other arcs. Even when something huge happens to him, like the tsunami or the coma, the fallout isn’t really about him. It’s about how others respond or grow from it.

Buck is a main character with his own arc, trauma, and growth, but sometimes it does feel like the narrative and fandom both frame him more like a Love Interest than a fully fleshed-out protagonist.

Fully feel your frustration, nonnie.

[cale-thames]

My opinion about Deruth:

I am actually neutral about Deruth. I really don't think about him that much. So I am going to give my opinion about Deruth without being biased.

If I think about him as a fictional character and without thinking deep, he is actually the 3rd best father in TCF. Ron is 2nd and you all know who is first. Deruth spoils his kids, always worries about them, support them, and tries his best to protect them. If I just consider what we saw in the actual novel, he is really a nice father.

But my opinion changed a bit after re-reading the novel. In 2 specific scenes, I felt like he isn't that good of a father.

1st:

tcfCale's thought about Deruth—

Deruth really seemed like the only person who cared for Cale. He didn’t even seem to care about Cale’s lack of manners. Well, a truly caring father should probably try to fix this personality of Cale… but this Cale did not care as he was not the real Cale Henituse.

2nd:

I don't remember the specific incident. But in one chapter, Deruth and Violan told Basen they should give tcfCale's safety the most priority. I personally didn't like it. Because it was clear favoritism to tcfCale. A good parent doesn't give any child priority no matter the reason.

But except those 2 times, Deruth seemed like a good parent to me.

Now if I don't think of him as a fictional character and think deeply, he is the 2nd worst dad in TCF. Because, where Ron is still loyal to his dead wife after so many years, Deruth fall in love with another woman within 2-3 years.

I am saying 2-3 years as Ron came into the Henituse household when ogCale was 5 years old and Deruth married when ogCale was 8.

And it was clear that Deruth didn't re-marry for any deeper reason, he simply fall in love with Violan (it was stated in the novel). And it was also clear that he didn't ask for ogCale's opinion. And when ogCale started acting trashy right after his 2nd marriage, Deruth should have talked to him.

I know Deruth invited ogCale for breakfast, I know he tried. But he didn't try enough. He didn't do anything when ogCale stopped his study, didn't do anything when ogCale started acting, didn't do anything when ogCale started drinking and he also didn't do anything when everyone called his son a trash.

If Deruth was a real person, I would HATE to have a father like him. I don't want a father who would let our relationship get broken just because he was a coward. And oh, Deruth didn't have a reason to be afraid of making his and ogCale' relation worse by crossing a line— because ogCale ALWAYS listened to him.

'His father was the one person that Cale listened to. '

I am sure the fans who only like tcfCale think Deruth is a good parent, as he was completely good to our Cale. But the fans who like ogCale think Deruth is a bad parent, as he didn't do enough.

I am a fan of both tcfCale and ogCale. So I like and dislike him at the same time. So I stopped thinking about him for my mental health.

[scrubbinn]

In Stars and Systems: Buddy talk

Prev - Next

Mirabelle 33 days since the King’s defeat

“Mira?”

You jump. Almost falling off the wagon before Iseabeau and Siffrin catch you. You weren't used to Siffrin starting conversations. Let alone tapping your shoulders to get your attention.

“Oh! Thank you, sorry you just startled me is all. Did you need something Siffrin?”

Siffrin points to your nails. They look damaged. Oh no, were you chewing on them again?

“Oh! Sorry…” 

You grip your dress to keep your hands away from your awful biting teeth.

“Have you taken your anxiety medication yet?”

“Oh! Yes. Don't worry! I took it about ten minutes ago, so it probably hasn't kicked in yet…”

Hopefully soon.

Siffrin's worried face didn't change. Noooo, you absolutely most definitely, DO NOT, want to make them worried.

You're about to reassure him but he starts speaking first.

“Feelings buddies?”

Oh no. Not feelings buddies. Now you have to talk about it! But it's not like Siffrin has been honoring your feelings buddies talks either! But, not being able to process everything they went through sounds pretty understandable.

Ooooh… maybe it wouldn’t hurt to talk about things. At least until your medicine starts working… What exactly are you so worried about? No that’s not right, it’s more like where do you even start.

“Oh Siffrin. I’m just… I’m worried about everything. I’m worried about leaving the King alone in the house. I’m worried about everyone in Dormont, and Claude, and Euphrasie. And this trip to Bambouche has me so worried that something might go wrong when we get there or even before that. And I’m worried about you Siffrin!”

Siffrin shuffles back into their spot in the wagon. He's trying his best to blend in with the tent supplies and snacks. Oh no, you made him upset, didn't you?

“The King won't move again. I promise.”

They sound so sure. They’re probably right. They would know the best after all. But, but, but. “But what about everyone else?!”

“Is Dormont known for getting attacked by powerful time craft wielding aristocrats?”

“Well, I mean it might be? It was kind of a big deal. Oh no… do you think they’re going to write about me in a history book? No that’s silly, of course they are! Oh, I have to make sure everything is accurate or, or… I’m rambling again aren’t I?

“It’s ok Mira. Dormont isn’t going to get attacked again. The others are going to be fine. As for this journey. We’ll be fine. Odile and Isa already triple checked everything. Bonnie has a ton of ingredients saved up, and if there’s any trouble, I can always loo-

“No!”

Siffrin seems startled, but you know this is something you have to put your foot down on. “You shouldn’t have to loop at all, Siffrin!.” 

The others are turning to look at the conversation. Even if you were quiet, everyone knew to keep an ear out for that L word.

“Sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t have shouted. But you promised you wouldn’t. Even if it’s a joke, it’s not a funny one!” 

You aren’t sure if it’s the sudden surge of anger or your medication finally working, but your other worries seem tiny by comparison. Siffrin looks confused? Scared? Now, it’s taken over by something else. Concern?

“When did I promise that?”

Ah, it was just memory problems. “You said it sometime… um… 

“12 days into your recovery.” Odile interjects.

“Right! Thank you Madame. You promised you wouldn’t ever put yourself in a time loop again, Siffrin!”

Odile continues. “You were exhibiting some odd behaviors and tried to play it off as a nightmare. One would assume it to be symptoms of PTSD. You were oddly cheery as well. I assume some sort of self defense mechanism to avoid our attention. But you at least promised me that you would avoid using timecraft in the future. And if you ever did use it, you would inform us immediately.”

Siffrin’s expression didn’t change at all. “Ok. I promise.”

“Pfft.. hehe.” You can’t help but laugh. “You already promised, Siffrin. What makes you think you need to do it again?”

That seems to have gotten them. “Well then it's a double promise. If I forgot it then I should promise it again right? So that it counts?” 

They shrink back into the supplies, trying to hide their face in their cloak. No one could find Siffrin’s old hat unfortunately, but it at least gave Isabeau an excuse to craft some for Siffrin to try.

The conversation seems to get Bonnie's attention as they climb over everyone to reach Siffrin.

“Frin are you getting forgetful again? You got a crab for brains sometimes. Here, have some pumpkin seeds. A nice lady in Dormont said it helps your brain grow better if you eat a lot.”

Bonnie puts enough pumpkin seeds into Siffrin’s hands that it starts to spill. It’s cute. Bonnie has been so energetic now that you’re all heading to see their sister. They must be so excited. Maybe you can let them take care of Siffrin for a bit. Then you can restart your conversation. Well, Maybe you don’t have to. Seeing everyone’s smiles makes you realize that you don’t need to worry about everything. You can rely on each other, and now you know that Siffrin knows that too... Yep, the medication has definitely kicked in now.

Bonnie passes out snacks to everyone, including the wagoner. You take a few dates and nibble on them. You look around to your friends. Madame Odile is doing her best to stay comfortable in the bumpy wagon. Isabeau is staring at Siffrin munching every pumpkin seed at once like a squirrel. Oh! And they're taking out the journal you got them! You scooch over to their tucked away seat, making sure not to pry of course.

Normally, you'd be super curious about dark mysterious Siffrin and their many possible secrets... but that impression got shattered pretty hard after you found out they were just shy. But! It's still great they're actually writing! It's a step in the journey of helping their memory problems. Maybe they'll be fine without it eventually. It'd be nice to see him change like that!

They write a few sentences before rubbing their fingers between the wilted petals of a flower they picked up in Dormont. The second he could, Siffrin darted to Jacintha's home and asked for five flowers. It was nice! Each of you getting a flower from Siffrin. Although they did gift one of their flowers for themself. You tried to explain that's not really how it works. But they said they were giving it to someone else in their own way. It sounded confusing and it didn't seem like he wanted to explain it any further.

The wagon hits a pothole and you're almost bumped off again. Isabeau catches you again. 

“You're giving me heart problems Mira. You’re so light. Are you eating alright?”

Not really. Even with your medication, you've been skipping meals a lot lately. Your stomach would be growling if not for Bonnie's snacks.

You sigh. “I'll be alright Isabeau, I'll make sure to eat a lot tonight.” 

“Well that’s reassuring, but maybe try not to skip so many meals anymore. Y'know, if you're ever dealing with something troubling you, your good friend Isabeau is here to help.”

“Hehe. Thank you Isabeau.” Leave it to him to always offer a hand. It's good to see him looking so bright now. Ever since he confessed to Siffrin, he can't help but give the happiest smile he can. Speaking of. You wonder if Siffrin ever got back to him about that. You hope the two of them are a couple now. It’d be so cute!

“Isabeau, can I ask you-

Madame Odile snaps her book shut for everyone's attention. “I'm sure we're all having important conversations, but unlike everyone here, my back can't handle another bump in the road. It's already getting late, we should set up camp soon.”

Ah. That's fair. You shouldn’t ask that question anyways. It’s probably something private. Isabeau asks the driver how much longer the walk to the next town will be and asks to stop here. It was nice to have so many helpful people here in Vaugarde. Everyone keeps talking about how they’d be happy to help the saviors of Vaugarde, but you’re pretty sure you got a lot of this kind of generosity when you were just a housemaiden. Still it’s pleasant to always know there’s a helping hand nearby.

You look at Siffrin. They know right? You’re not as perceptive as Isabeau and especially not like Madame Odile. But you can tell they’ve been hiding something since the end of your journey. You watch as they help Odile off the wagon, and you let out a brief sigh. You have to trust him that he’ll talk to all of you. Hopefully it’s nothing serious.

Maybe you can talk more about that stuff tonight… Feelings buddies… right?

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This was meant to be posted on Sunday, But the universe decided to give us a taste of post game Siffrin and made us incredibly sick. There will be a chapter this Sunday as well.

Hope you enjoy. If you have any questions about this story, you can always send us an ask or message us directly, the same goes for if you want to be added to a mention list so you'll always get an update for when the next chapter releases. That's all for now. Have a wonderful week ✨️