#okay — that was cruel and defensive — I’m sorry

[byakuyasdarling]

I literally put in the post “Accounts who post Nae//gami DNI please” and one of them still interacted with me!! Please learn to read!!

Listen — I know you’re not the brightest because you like a nonsensical ship, but I do expect basic levels of reading comprehension and respect for someone’s boundaries!!

[asterias-record-shop]

professor’s favorite girl (r.a.b.)

Everyone knew you were a good student, so it normally didn’t come as a surprise why you got the highest marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts with the infamous Regulus Black as your professor. They truly didn’t expect what seemed like a cruel professor to have taken some sort of… liking to a pretty Hufflepuff. Holy shit, this is 3.3K words- (beware, ‘dark’-er fic!)

The first day you came into class, Regulus noticed that your skirt was tailored. And since then, he has noticed everything about you.

When you started wearing makeup to his class.

When you started doing your hair, and when boys started to realize how attractive you were.

Regulus didn’t think he could comprehend why some boys didn’t notice how attractive you were, it was something he noticed when you continued to take his class when you didn’t have to. As much as he knew your reasoning was true, that you really did love his class and excel in it, he couldn’t help but hope some part of it was because of him.

And he would quickly smash it whenever that possibility of hope came up again. He couldn’t entertain this, he shouldn’t.

Still, as you walked into his class a little later than normal, he couldn’t help but pause his lecture. You looked… different today, but he couldn’t place how.

“I’m sorry, Professor Black,” you said as you sat down in the seat right in front of his desk, a slight smile on your face before he noticed the bruise on your cheek. “Quidditch practice ran late.”

Oh, he was going to kill whoever gave you that bruise.

“Why do you play on a team that never wins?” Regulus’ response was slightly bitter, but it was mainly because you showed up hurt.

You giggled slightly, shaking your head. “Because it’s fun, Professor Black.”

“Did you go to the infirmary?” Regulus lifted the sleeves of his button down as he stepped out from behind his desk.

“No, Professor, I was already late,” you explained, shaking your head. “I’ll be okay.”

“Go to the infirmary,” his words left no room for discussion, his head jerking to the door. “Get checked out. I’ll catch you up later.”

He spoke as though you didn’t come to his class during lunch just to talk about the further actions of Defense Against the Dark Arts, and get ahead in the curriculum that he made specifically for you because you were so ahead. He specifically looked into the subjects you were interested in and built a curriculum around it, before educating himself more and giving it to you.

“I’ll be okay, Professor-”

“Go to the infirmary, Y/N,” he said again, turning his back to you as he grabbed his wand. “We will only be dueling with the spells we learned last class, and you’re ahead. If there’s anything new, I will catch you up.”

You sighed, setting down your stuff as you stood. “Yes, Professor.”

Originally, Regulus had a lesson planned for today, but he wouldn’t be able to focus with the thought of you in the infirmary. You weren’t even hurt bad, just a small and plain injury from a sport you did for fun, but he couldn’t focus.

So instead he sat down behind his desk, glaring at everyone as he tried to think about how you got that bruise. Even though you were a Seeker, normally, you were quick enough to get out of the tight spots you were normally put in — he guessed that this time, you weren’t quick enough.

Oh, his poor girl.

Regulus partnered up random students, his mind still on you as he stared a hole into his desk. Your pretty face didn’t look good with a bruise blooming on your cheek, the only bruises he would ever want on your body were the ones that he made. The thought of him gripping your thighs so tight that he left hand shaped bruises, or bruises made from how hard he would kiss your body or your lips – the only markings that should ever be on your skin should be his.

“Professor Black?”

Your voice made him look up, the sounds of spells being casted quickly being drowned out as you smiled at him.

The bruise was gone from your cheek as you gave him a slight wave. “I-I just wanted to say thank you. For worrying about me, I-I probably would not have gone to the infirmary… thank you, again. Besides, I’m all healed now!”

Your giggle made him smile slightly. “I didn’t think you were going to go,” Regulus spoke, tilting his head. “Normally you’re such a headstrong girl.”

His words make you shrug slightly. “Maybe it’s because I knew I needed to go.”

“Well you were a good girl and listened,” he hummed, tilting his head slightly. “Why don’t you sit and rest? I’m sure practice was exhausting.”

You quickly shook your head. “Oh no, professor, that wouldn’t be fair-”

Regulus laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, my darling girl, you should know not to argue with me,” a smile is left on his face when he saw the slight flush in your cheeks. “Go sit down. Rest.”

You swallowed, nodding. “Yes, Professor.”

He watched you walk away, your robe hiding the expanse of your thighs from behind before you turned around and sat in your chair, smiling.

When class ended, you stayed after as everyone left, sighing softly as you stood up and walked over. “Professor Black, can I ask you a question?”

Regulus nodded, slowly standing up and offering his hand. “Yes, of course. Let’s move into my office.”

Oh, he shouldn’t have said that.

“Yes, Professor,” you smiled so simply, perfectly innocent – was it real? Were you truly innocent?

If you were, Regulus wanted to destroy it – he wanted to corrupt you. He wanted to break you down and build you back up, with your entire structure dependent on him. If the Defense Against Dark Arts position truly was cursed, you were his curse.

He moved behind you to follow you into his office, closing the door and slowly locking it. He wasn’t even sure what came over him when he did so.

“I have a question on one of the books you assigned for our advanced curriculum,” you said, your face slightly scrunched in concentration. “Do you mind if I take off my robe?”

Regulus quickly shook his head, almost too quick. “Of course not.”

You smiled again as you sat down after slipping your robe off onto the chair, Regulus standing against the desk and leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked absolutely picturesque, his dark curls framing his face and his gray eyes piercing down at you.

“What about them?”

“One of the books,” you said, crossing one leg over the other with a slight sigh, completely ignorant to the slight lift of your skirt to show off more of your plush thighs. “The one about using protection spells from your own emotions. I am truly sorry if this is out of turn, but one of the spells stemmed from the emotion of lust, and I don’t understand how it would… do that.”

Regulus paused. Were you really that stupid? He didn’t even mean to do that, you did that yourself.

“Are you being serious?” Regulus was holding back a smirk, covering his mouth with his large, scarred hand.

Your face relaxed slightly, eyes wide as you tilted your head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, you stupid girl,” he said with a laugh, your face displaying deep offense with your wide mouth and eyebrows raised. Your face stayed like that until his hand pulled away from his face and he softly stroked your hair down to your cheek, your face relaxing as you stared up at him. Your eyes were so wide and innocent, were they always like that? “Have you ever felt lust before?”

Your eyes trailed up as you thought, your thighs squeezing together. “No-”

“Oh, I don’t like girls who lie,” he said, his hand pulling away from your face and slowly ghosting your form to settle on the exposed skin of your sigh. “I noticed you squeezing your thighs together… be a good girl and tell me what makes you lustful.”

You swallowed, your hands shaking as you inhaled deeply. “I-I can’t…”

His eyebrow raised. “You can’t?”

Your head shook as you swallowed, your hand softly wrapping around his wrist. “N-No… I can’t, it’s wrong,” you whisper, continuing to shake your head before Regulus twists his hand out of your grip and spreads his entire hand onto the expanse of your thigh. “Professor Black-”

“Hush, my darling girl,” he whispered, slowly bending down to be eye level with you as he rubbed your thigh. “Are you going to tell me or do I need to try my hand at casting without my wand?”

You inhaled shakily as his fingertips slowly drift under the hem of your tailored skirt, swallowing. “N-No… I-I will tell you… I-I have thoughts about you, bad thoughts,” you whisper, shaking your head. “V-Very bad thoughts…”

Regulus smiled, both of his hands holding each opposite side of your thighs as his face gets closer to yours. “What kind of thoughts?”

Your cheeks start to heat up, eyes burning as tears prick your eyes. “Pr-Professor Black-”

He laughed when he saw tears pricking your eyes, tilting his head. “Are you going to cry? What a pathetic girl,” he bit his lip, nose brushing to yours. “Why are you crying?”

You swallowed, shaking your head. “B-Because… m-my stomach is twisting really bad…”

He hummed, tilting his head. “Do you want me to check you out, my pathetic girl?”

Your hips started to squirm as you unconsciously nodded, his face ducking down to your ear.

“Get on the desk. I’ll show you what lust feels like.”

He knew the feeling of lust very well. It would churn in his stomach every time you walked into his class, and the heat would rush down to his cock when you opened your mouth to only say a few words.

And just like that, the lust started to pulsate again as you rose onto the desk, your pretty tailored skirt being hiked up on your thighs as you placed your feet on the edges of his desk, spreading your thighs widely for him.

Regulus stepped forward, his fingers starting to slip your buttons undone, revealing your lacy white bra that blended in under the white button down.

Fuck, you were so hot.

His hands settled on your thighs again as he slotted himself between your legs, clenching his fingers on your plush skin to try and prevent the slight tremors of all the lust coursing through his body. Regulus wondered if you felt the lust like he did, but he didn’t have to wonder for long when he saw the wet patch on your lacy panties that seemed to match your bra.

“Oh, my sweet girl correlates,” he groaned, his fingers slowly swiping over the wet spot, a smile developing on his face when your thighs jolted to try and tighten around his waist. “How pretty…”

You were unsure of what was going through your body. Your stomach was twisting much like it did when you would get turned on by what you would think about him doing to you before slipping your fingers into yourself in your prefect dorm and moaning into your pillow like you did last night. This feeling though, this was different.

It was like your core was pulsating, your walls clamping around nothing as he slipped your panties to the side, your entrance fluttering as his finger trailed over your entrance. A whine escapes your lips as he did so, your hips bucking as he smirked down at your cunt, only pulling his hand away to stick his fingers in his mouth.

You gaped as you watched him lather his fingers in his spit, and you certainly didn’t expect him to shove his fingers down your throat soon afterward. Your hips bucked uncontrollably, a loud moan falling from your lips before gagging around his fingers.

“Relax your throat, my darling girl,” he coos to you, leaning down to kiss against your temple. Oh, his lips quivered against your skin as he watched you gag and choke on his fingers, your saliva running down his knuckles before he pulled his fingers away. You let out soft coughs as his fingers slowly circled the sensitive bundle of nerves, whining loudly as he pushed his fingers through the ring, your walls clamping down on his fingers.

At first, he was slow, just like how you would begin to finger yourself. But then, he noticed how relaxed you were, and how it took him very little effort to actually stretch you out.

Still, he watched your reactions, your mouth wide as you moaned loudly, your arms raising to wrap around his neck to support yourself. “Pr-Professor!”

He groaned, smiling as you moaned. “Mmmm, my darling girl… you’re not very tight, is there a reason for that?”

He wasn’t complaining, this just meant he could fuck you faster – but he wanted to hear you say what you were doing.

“N-No,” you whimpered, lying through your teeth before he pushed his fingers farther into you. Unlike you, he knew what he was doing. He was flexing and twisting his fingers, parting them and scissoring into you as your tears started to run down your cheeks, a soft sob escaping your mouth as he pushed his finger deeper. “Professor!”

“What did I say earlier?” His fingers got rougher, a soft almost growl-like noise escaping his mouth. “I don’t like liars, you fucking brat.”

You yelped as his fingers got rougher, sobbing as you shook your head. “W-Wait, it’s too much! Pr-Professor, please! Stop, stop!”

It didn’t hurt, no – it truly was too much. You felt your stomach twisting, an unknown feeling settling at the pit of your tummy as his fingers twisted to press his thumb to your clit, roughly rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“No, I only listen to good girls. You’re not a good girl, fucking lying to me,” he snapped, his fingers getting rougher as he watched your thighs shake and hips rut desperately. “Tell me the truth or you’re not going to cum. Tell me!”

“I-I touched myself!” You sobbed as his fingers got faster, his index and middle finger pumping in and out of you as his thumb pushed rough circles into your clit. “I touched myself last night, I’m sorry, I’m sorry Professor!”

He groaned as he watched his fingers push and pull out of you, pumping as his lips ghosted yours. He hadn’t even kissed you yet, and he desperately wanted to. “You should be. Cum, fucking cum, my desperate little slut,”

You sobbed, shaking your head as you dug your fingers into the back of his perfectly ironed black button down. “W-Wait, Professor! It’s weird, it feels weird,” you hiccuped against his mouth as he softly kissed your lips, smiling. “Professor!”

“Oh, my perfect girl, are you going to squirt? Come on, I want to see it.”

You choked as you threw your head back, screaming out as your vision blurred, his fingers pushing as deep as he could get them inside of you, pressure never relieving from your clit.

Regulus just watched as you squirted onto his slacks, the liquid getting all over him as he laughed at how your hips rutted and your thighs convulsed uncontrollably. He continues to finger fuck you as you squirt, rubbing at your clit as you squirmed, sobbing as you bounced against his fingers, pleasure overwhelming your body.

“Are you going to cum again? Come on, do it. My perfect fucking slut, cumming back to back,” he grinned, biting at his lip as you felt your stomach twist again, tightening as you came again on his finger. “Oh fuck, my darling girl...”

You sobbed as he pulled his fingers out of you, his skin pruned from how wet you were, and his entire black sleeve soaked in whatever liquid came out of you. Soft sobs continued to escape your lips, hiccuping as he softly puckered his lips to yours.

“You’re such a good girl… you’re such a perfectly good girl for me,” he whispers, licking his fingers as your lips ghost his cheeks, desperately bucking your hips into the air as he took out his cock. “You ready, my perfect girl?”

You hiccuped, nodding as you stared at him while he pumped himself, his cock not exactly thick but making up for it in length – as well as the fact that it was basically picturesque, perfectly groomed with dribbles of precum sliding down the bottom of his shaft.

“I need words, my darling girl,” he whispered, delicately kissing your lips. You chased his mouth, fingers shaking as you held his shoulders. “Tell me you’re ready.”

“I-I’m ready,” you whisper, nodding mindlessly. “I-I’m ready, I’m ready to be a g-good slut for you.”

Your use of slut made him smile. You would be a good slut for him, and this truly was the beginning of his corruption.

So, with a strong snap of his hips, he pushed into you – a loud wail leaving your mouth as you sobbed. He didn’t waste any time, he couldn’t as he kissed you firmly, swallowing all of your noises as he pushed you back so you could tilt your head, turning the kiss wet and sloppy as you tried to swallow his saliva.

His thumb still didn’t pull away from your clit, but the circular motion wasn’t too much as you choked softly, trying to control all of your noises as he fucked into you. The slight curve his cock pushed into areas that you had never felt pressure in before, the feeling making your stomach twist into knots again as you whined.

“G-Gonna… gonna cum,” you whined, your words jumbled as you spoke, a smile developing on his lips as he pulled away.

“Cum then,” you didn’t need his permission this time. He had always been so desperate to feel you that it was a struggle not to cum into you there and then, but he knew that when you came, your plush walls clamping down on him would push him over the edge. “Cum my favorite fucking girl.”

You sobbed again, nodding your head as you leaned up, wrapping your arms and legs around him and cradling onto his body, groaning. “Regulus!”

Oh, he thought your walls clamping down on him would push him over the edge – no, it was you moaning his name.

His strong thrusts uncontrollably got rougher, a loud groan falling from his lips as he fucked into you even harder, another loud groan following the first as he finally came inside of you. Your eyes crossed as you threw your head back, a silent scream escaping your mouth as he continued to fuck the two of you through your highs.

As he came down, he slowed his movements – still not stopping – as he kissed you again. “I think you should stay after class more.”

You nodded, desperate to continue this. You truly were your professor’s favorite girl.

I do not ever give consent to my work being published on other platforms or being translated at any point, even if it is a request. If my work is on any other platform, it’s without my permission. Your media consumption is not my responsibility.

© asterias-record-shop

[endless-ineffabilities]

eclipsed (Aemond Targaryen x f!reader)

You loved him. He didn't feel the same. Until everything changed – but is it too late?

main masterlist ▪︎ word count: 1.7k

a/n: I envisioned modern Aemond as I was writing this. Also, the usual taglist is sadly not included for this spontaneous oneshot. I trust that the angst will find you if it's meant to be!

Aemond Targaryen was once everything to you. 

Your guiding light. Your sun and your stars. You knew you had a heart, you knew it was beating true, because it worshipped him with such a ferocity that would put a devotee to shame. Nothing and no else compared. You would have been content to simply exist in his orbit, to watch as he lived and loved.

He loved you too. You knew that. But as a brother loved a sister, as a friend loved a friend. 

And all kinds of love were meant to appear dim and pale in comparison to what he felt for Alys.

He doted on her. She was everything to him. She was his guiding light, his sun and stars. You could never compare. 

It was an unbearable truth, one you had tried for too long to ignore, but there came a time when you reached your breaking point. One evening, you asked to meet him. You knew you were about to ask for so much more – you were asking for something he could never offer.

You were asking to be seen. 

You could no longer sit idly by, watching the sun shine on the world while the moon was left in the shadows.

When you confessed, his reaction was as callous as it was predictable. Aemond laughed in disbelief, as though your words were at the end of some punchline. “Okay,” he said dismissively, “I love you too.”

“No.” You shook your head, looking away. You had to bite your lip to keep the tears from falling. “I love you, Aemond.”

“Yes, I know,” he smiled, taking a step closer, grimacing when you put your hands up to stop him from reaching out for you.

“I’m in love with you.” You had to take a deep breath before you continued. “I love you. Maybe you knew all along. Maybe you didn’t. But you have to know that.”

There it was, suspended in the atmosphere between the two of you, before the inevitable crash and crumble. 

“I don’t get it, darling.” He exhaled roughly, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You love me?”

“What don’t you get?” Your voice came out sharper than intended, but you couldn’t be anything but honest. 

“I… this is… but you’re like a sister to me!” 

“Oh, fuck off, Aemond.” You waved his words away, trying to dampen just how brutal they stung. Just how much they cut deep. 

“Well, then,” he sneered, his eyes darkening with a defensive anger. “Thanks for that.”

“Is that…” You met his eyes once more, that heart-wrenching shade of blue. “Do you have anything else to say?”

His gaze hardened. “I’m with Alys.”

“I know that.”

“I love Alys.” He spat the words out like they were meant to be a scolding. Didn’t you know this? What exactly were you expecting from him? That he would cry and take you in his arms? I love you too… I love you too… I always have…

“I know that too.” The first bitter tear fell down your cheek. You inhaled sharply, wiping at your face with the back of your sleeve. You began pacing in an attempt to get a hold of your nerves. You did not want to have a complete breakdown in front of him. But then again, the worst has already happened. How much more humiliation could there possibly be?

“I’m sorry, darling.” His voice softened as he reached for you again, and this time, when you resisted, he simply caught your arms gently and pulled you against him. “Truly, I am. You have no idea.”

He held you, however long you needed to be held. He was good like that, he always has been. But it felt like a cruel comfort – mere scraps of affection when you wanted the entire feast. 

“I do love you, you know,” he murmured into your hair, his voice soothing as it broke your heart anew. “Always, I promise.”

And he did. 

But it was never going to be enough.

You were the moon to his sun, forever watching from a distance, knowing you would never truly share the same sky.

Aemond rarely saw you after that night. A week passed, then two, then a month. The silence between you stretched longer than he had expected, but still he thought nothing of it. Perhaps you were simply giving each other space, allowing the awkwardness to settle.

But then, when he tried seeking you out, there were no responses. He found out from a mutual friend that you had moved to another region. There was a promising work opportunity, apparently, one that had been too good to pass up.

You just conveniently failed to mention this to him. 

You drifted from his life without warning, and Aemond was not prepared for how deeply it would hurt. How lost he would feel. He was out of orbit, reeling, mourning the ghost of someone who still lived, but seemingly no longer wanted anything to do with him.

Alys was not blind to it. But there was nothing she could do. She could only watch as Aemond’s light began to dim, gradually fading until it barely reached her. She had no choice but to stand by as he became a hollow version of the man whom she thought loved her so fiercely.

An entire year passed before Aemond saw you again. 

It happened by chance, or perhaps some cruel twist of fate. You were there, with your adorable flushed cheeks and smile as bright as the sun. He did not know what to expect, but there you were, hugging him like the long lost friend he had become.

You looked better than ever, while he was barely getting by. 

“You look like you could use some sun, Aem,” you remarked lightheartedly, noticing how pale he got. “I can’t believe it’s been so long.”

You appeared carefree, but all Aemond could feel was the weight of the past year pressing down on him. 

“You left me,” he spat out before he could help himself. It sounded like an accusation, like a wound that never healed. How could you?

“I did leave, yes,” you say tentatively, confused by the venom in his tone. “But I don’t think I left you.”

“What would you call it then?” His tone was bitter, bordering on desperate. 

“I moved away,” you shrugged. “It happens. Friends move away, they move on.”

“You weren’t supposed to,” he muttered. His hands clenched at his sides when what he truly wanted was to reach for you.  

“I had to,” you replied, your voice quieter. “It was the only way.” 

Aemond frowned, his gaze fixed on your face, searching for something he couldn’t quite name. "The only way for what?"

You spoke again, slower, “It was the only way to get over you.”

He was hanging by a thread, and right then, he became untethered.

“I loved you, Aemond,” you continued. “And I couldn’t just stay there and watch you be in love with someone else. I’m sorry, but I had to leave. It was the only thing I could do to save myself.”

Your words hit him like a blow. He stared at you, the one who had been everything to him once – his anchor, his confidante, the one constant in his life. If only he hadn’t been too goddamn stupid to realise it then.

You reached over and squeezed his hand. He looked down and without thinking, he interlaced his fingers with yours. He felt you hesitate for a moment – a brief second where you considered pulling away – before you gave in.

The old you wouldn’t have given it a second thought. The old you would have held onto Aemond with everything you had, believing that if you just stayed close enough, he’d realise what was right in front of him.

But you were different now. Everything was different – no sunshine, just grey – because you said that you loved him.

Loved. Not anymore.

The roles were reversed, and maybe he deserved it. The bitter irony wasn’t lost on him as you pulled your hand away, offering him a soft, understanding smile. 

“And Alys?” you asked suddenly, your voice gentle but curious. "How is she?”

He stiffened. A part of him thought that staying with Alys was his path forward, the thing that would make sense of the chaos in his life. But it hadn’t. Not really. 

“We’re not together anymore,” Aemond finally admitted.

You blinked, visibly surprised. “Oh. I’m… I’m so sorry, Aemond. I didn’t know.”

He let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. It wasn’t… meant to be.”

You studied him, your brows furrowing in concern. “Even so, I know it’s hard,” you said softly, your voice full of empathy. “Breakups are… They’re never easy. But there’s someone out there for everyone. I truly believe that. I mean… I found someone, didn’t I?”

His entire body tensed, his breath hitching as his mind tried to process the full weight of your statement. You had found someone. You had moved on. There was the proof, hitting him right in the face. 

He had lost you. For good.

“You… found someone,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it out loud would somehow make it more real.

“Yes. I did.” There was a tenderness in your voice, but it only twisted the knife deeper. “He’s wonderful, Aemond. He’s kind, supportive. I didn’t think I’d find something like this after – ” you paused, glancing away for a moment before meeting his gaze again, “after everything.”

“Are you in love?” The words came out before he could stop them, his voice tight with something like despair. He hated himself for asking, for needing to know, but the question was out there now, and he couldn’t take it back.

“Aemond.”

“Can you tell me this, at least? Do you… love him?”

There was a long pause, as if you were choosing your words carefully, and when you finally spoke, the answer was clear. “More than anything.”

You had become someone else’s sun. Someone else’s guiding light.

And he was the moon, forced to watch and drift in shadow. 

For the first time in his life, Aemond Targaryen understood what it meant to lose everything.

[wendichester]

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 outta love³,

summary. dean's falling out of love.

pairing. dean winchester x reader genre. angst

wordcount. 874

notes / warnings. shout-out to the amazing @candy-coated-misery0731 for coming up with the idea for this third part ehe // depiction of depression, self-isolation, reckless behavior (implied alcohol use and dangerous hunting choices), angst-heavy

ᯓ★ read part 1, part 2

Dean’s still standing in the kitchen long after the door shuts. Your jacket is gone. Your voice—those last few words—isn’t. They linger like smoke, wrapping around his throat until it’s hard to breathe.

"You didn’t love. Not enough."

The thing is—he did. Still does.

But love, it turns out, doesn’t mean a damn thing if you’re too much of a coward to show it.

He stares down into the coffee cup in his hand like it might tell him what to do. All he sees is the reflection of a man who let you walk away. And didn’t stop you.

You don’t cry at first.

That would feel like surrender.

Instead, you move through the days like a ghost. You check into a shitty motel two towns over, the kind with peeling wallpaper and towels that smell like bleach and smoke. You take a job on a hunt that someone else passed on, something nasty and a little too complicated to handle alone. You don’t care.

You pack light. Work fast. Sleep less.

Every bar is your new church. Every bottle, a communion. Every night, a prayer you don’t even bother aiming at the sky.

It’s not revenge. Not exactly.

It’s survival, minus the will to survive.

Dean keeps your mug in the cupboard.

He tells himself he’ll put it away tomorrow. Then another tomorrow. Then a week passes, and it’s still there, untouched, waiting.

Like the rest of him.

He hunts, sure. Goes on a salt-and-burn with Sam. Slays a few demons. Takes a hit or two that hurts worse than it should.

Sam doesn’t push at first. But one morning, he finds Dean staring blankly at the bunker wall like he’s watching something that isn’t there.

“She’s not coming back,” Sam says gently, not cruel, just… honest.

Dean flinches like the words cut. They do.

He doesn’t answer. Just walks out and doesn't come back till well after dark.

You don’t answer his texts.

You see them. Every single one.

The first ones are soft, almost careful.

Just checking in. You okay? I’m sorry. I miss you.

Then there’s a few angry ones. Guilt-sharpened. Defensive.

You think I didn’t love you? That’s bullshit. I never meant to hurt you. You just—left.

You ignore them. Leave him on read.

Because none of it matters now, does it?

Intentions don’t stitch up wounds. And I’m sorry won’t build a goddamn time machine.

Dean dreams about you.

In some, you’re smiling. In others, you’re bleeding.

He wakes up sweating, heart pounding, always reaching for the empty space beside him before he remembers.

It’s colder now.

He’s colder now.

He tries to bury himself in work. In whiskey. In routine.

He tells himself you’re probably fine. That you needed to get away. That maybe it’s better this way.

He doesn’t believe it.

Especially not when Sam gets wind of the job you took solo. One that went south. One that left your name on the list of local injuries reported at a hospital just outside Tulsa.

Dean doesn’t wait.

He gets in the car and drives.

You’re bandaged when he finds you.

One arm wrapped. Lip split. Your jacket stained in places it shouldn’t be.

You’re sitting outside the hospital, smoking a cigarette like it might keep your heart from caving in. Something you picked up recently, because who cares?

When you see him, your body doesn’t even flinch.

Your soul does. But the body? The body’s used to surviving disappointment by now.

Dean pulls up fast, slams the car door like it offended him.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he barks.

You exhale smoke, eyes dull. “Wasn’t.”

He stops. Looks at you harder.

“You almost got yourself killed.”

“Wouldn’t have mattered.”

Those words shouldn’t leave your mouth with that tone. Not with that flat, dead air behind them. But they do. And Dean looks like you just tore out what was left of his heart.

“Don’t say that.”

You blink at him slowly. “Why? It’s true, isn’t it? You already mourned me. Might as well make it official.”

Dean steps back like your words are bullets.

“You don’t mean that.”

You don’t answer.

Because part of you does. Or did. Or wants to.

It’s easier than saying, I didn’t know how else to feel alive without you.

He doesn’t leave.

Not this time.

He leans against the car, hands on his hips, jaw clenched like he’s holding himself together with molars alone.

“I fucked up,” he says eventually. “I know that.”

You don’t respond. Just watch the smoke curl from your cigarette like it’s more interesting than the ruins he’s standing in.

“I was scared,” he says. “And I thought I was protecting you by pulling away. But all I did was make you feel alone. I know that now.”

You flick ash to the ground. “Little late.”

“I know.” His voice breaks. Just enough to cut through. “But I’m here now. If you want me.”

You don’t look at him. Can’t.

Because the worst part isn’t that he’s here.

It’s that a part of you—God help you—wants to fall into him all over again.

And that part?

That part still believes he could be your home, if only he knew how to stay.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[mammons-lover]

Lucifer (looking very disappointed): I called a family meeting today because of the acts you all participated in yesterday. You collectively showed me I can’t leave any of you alone, surprisingly even you, Satan.

Mammon: It’s not our fault, those assholes started it!

Leviathan: Yeah, we were actually behaving before they showed up.

Lucifer: Okay, so tell me what happened.

Flashback:

All the brothers are walking home after class until someone bumps into Belphegor so hard he falls.

Demon: Watch where you're going, loser.

Asmodeus: What did he just say?

Mammon: That asshole did not just push Belphie.

Satan: Hey, dickwad, how 'bout apologizing to my brother?!

Demon: How about I shove that apology up your ass?!

Back to now:

Mammon: You see? We didn’t start it!

Satan: Yeah, he pushed Belphie. Why would anyone do that to him? Look how frail he is.

Asmodeus (grabbing Belphie’s face): And look how adorable he is. How can someone be so cruel?

Lucifer: Okay, I understand. But did you have to start an all-out fight that ended up spreading around the school?

Mammon: It’s not our fault that everyone started getting hype!

Leviathan: Kinda is Mammon’s fault though.

Mammon: What?!

Flashback:

Satan and Mammon are fighting a couple of guys. Suddenly, someone runs straight toward Mammon, so Asmo jumps on the demon's back.

Asmodeus (hitting them in the head repeatedly): You won’t jump my brother!

Mammon: Asmo!

Mammon turns around and sees Asmodeus get flipped onto the floor. Mammon rushes to hit the guy but punches the wrong person.

Demon #2: What the fuck, man? Did you just punch me?!

Mammon: Nah, dude, it was that guy. I saw what happened and came to see if you were alright. That guy is insane. (pointing at the guy who flipped Asmo)

Demon #2: Hey man, you wanna fight?!

Demon: You wanna go, bro?!

Present time:

Mammon: Oh, I totally forgot I did that. My fault, but in my defense, I was just trying to help Asmo out.

Lucifer: I appreciate you all looking out for one another, but you are supposed to be responsible, even if that means backing down from a fight.

Belphegor: Come on, Lucifer, you know we aren’t like that.

Lucifer: Yes, I know. Moving on, from what I heard, only Mammon, Satan, and Asmodeus were fighting, so why are you two marked up?

Beelzebub: Well…

Flashback:

Once the other guys started fighting, their friends joined in, leading other demons to jump in. While that was happening, Levi was calming down a pissed-off Beelzebub, and Belphegor was watching everything, smiling.

Leviathan: Come on, Beel, they’re taking care of it. There’s no need to step in.

Beelzebub: You’re right. I-I’m sorry.

Leviathan: There we go, just breathe���

Demon #3: What are you smiling for? Huh?!

Belphegor (acting confused): You’re talking to me?

Demon #3 (taking a step towards Belphegor): Who else would I be talking to?

Belphegor: Definitely not me. Get out of my sight, bottom feeder.

Demon #3 (throwing a punch at Belphegor): You little shit!

Leviathan: Beel, no!

Beelzebub tackles the demon to the floor before he can land a hit on Belphegor and starts punching him. Leviathan tries to pry Beelzebub off the demon but gets elbowed in the face by Beelzebub, then gets shoved by another demon.

Demon #4: You trying to jump my friend?!

Leviathan (holding his bloody nose): What?! No, I was just—

Demon #4 (throws a punch at Leviathan): I don’t wanna hear it! You’re dead!

Leviathan starts fighting the guy, and Belphegor stands on a nearby branch, watching the whole ordeal.

Mammon’s fighting three guys at once, Satan just body-slammed someone, Asmodeus is banging someone's head on the floor, Beelzebub is punching anyone near him, and Leviathan is now fighting two guys. Belphegor can’t be any happier. They are all fighting for his honor. He stands there laughing with pride, but his smile fades when he sees Lucifer.

Present time:

Leviathan: See, Lucifer? We didn’t start anything; everyone else threw punches first.

Beelzebub: Yeah, and didn’t you tell us to always defend ourselves?

Lucifer: I am going to give you all a pass, only because you didn’t start it. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t going to be punished.

All the brothers: What?!

Lucifer: School property was destroyed. Even after I brought you home, they were still fighting at the school. Tomorrow, every student will be assigned a task to help repair the school.

Satan: I guess that makes sense.

Lucifer: Everyone, go wash off. If you need help with bandages, I’ll be in my office.

Later that day:

Lucifer: Honestly, I’m impressed. While making my way to each of them, I saw how coordinated they were at fighting.

Diavolo: Me too. When I watched the footage from the cameras, I couldn’t help but be in awe. My favorite part of it was Belphie.

Lucifer: Belphie?… but he didn’t fight.

Diavolo: I know, but the way he was watching and laughing, he looked like a war leader proud of his soldiers. It was adorable. Even more adorable that they were looking out for the youngest.

Lucifer: I guess it was nice to see them look out for Belphie. He doesn’t have a scratch on him.

The rest of the night, the brothers and Diavolo reminisce about the fight while wrapping each other’s wounds and applying ice packs.

[madwcman]

hi!! what about a best friends to lovers with tasm peter parker AND AND she thinks he likes someone else but he’s been whipped for her since FOREVER😋!! thanks a lot hehehe

a/n: let’s pretend this didn’t take me so long to answer, thank you for requesting!! enjoy ♡

pairing: tasm! peter x reader

“you’re avoiding me.” looking up from your phone, you see your best friend and now crush, peter parker. his arms folded over his chest, with a sour face.

“i don’t know what you mean pete.”

“liar.” and that you were. not only were you out hiding from him now, sitting in the bleachers of the football field. you’ve also been avoiding peter for the past two days after realizing you had a crush on him. which was an issue. not only was peter your best friend, but he also liked another girl. you thought she was better than you. not only was she smart but she was pretty. the perfect girl for peter.

“i’m not a liar, peter.” you sigh, looking back at your phone. avoiding peter’s eyes.

“you’re literally avoiding me right now!”

“i’m talking to you aren’t i?”

you hear peter huff as he sits down next to you. “you’re not even looking at me.”

you shrug him off. you’re not willing to answer him at the moment.

“what’s wrong, sweet girl?” peter questions, softly. he reaches for your hand.

“it’s nothing peter, i promise.” you mummer, as you put your phone away, looking straight out to the football field. still trying to avoid peter’s eyes. but you do hold his hand.

“you’re lying again.” at the moment you wonder if it’s his spidey senses that give you away or if peter truly knows you. you hope it’s the second option.

“can we just drop this?” you finally turn to look at peter. his boyish and charming smile, traded in for a small frown.

“no, my best friend has been avoiding me for the past two days!”

“i have not-“

“can you just tell me what’s wrong?!”

“Peter, i like you okay!” you yell out, taking your hand from peters. you tilt your face down, embarrassed. “i’ve been avoiding you because i know you don’t feel the same.”

it’s silent for a few seconds. but peter’s loud laugh breaks the uncomfortable silence. “are you laughing at me?” you ask, slightly confused, flabbergasted and a little offended.

“no!” he giggles, uncontrollably. you send him a glare. he’s being a little cruel, in your opinion.

your eyebrows furrow, as you push peter away from you. “you’re laughing!”

“i’m sorry, it’s just you’re so oblivious!”

“what?!” your voice raises, you can’t help but be slightly annoyed and defensive. you’re not oblivious.

“sweetheart, i’ve been in love with you since forever!”

oh, you’re shocked. you’ve never expected to hear those words from peter. “forever?”

“forever.” he shakes his head, as if to assure you.

“what about that girl you’ve been hanging out with?” voicing out your confusion, you couldn’t help but think of the beautiful and smart girl peter has been around lately.

“who, sadie?” you didn’t know her name. but you shake your head, assuming.

“sadie’s my lab partner. ”

“oh.”

“oh?” you feel slightly dumbfounded as peter eyebrow quirks up, questioning you. he’s simply curious. you have his full attention.

“i’ve been thinking you’ve liked her this whole time.” you admit, bashful. you can’t help but feel flustered while admitting this to peter.

peter can’t help but laugh again. this is comedy gold. he couldn’t love or cherish anyone as much as he does you. “oh, this is hilarious!”

“it’s not that funny!” you defend yourself, how could you have possibly known she was his lab partner!

“this whole time-“

“shut up.” you try and give your best intimidating glare. as he continues to laugh.

“we could have talked-“

“shut up!” you pushed him away, playfully. you try to conceal your smile, with peter it’s hard. you can’t help but smile around him.

peter scoots back over to you, warping his arms around you. “my poor sweet girl,”he mumbles into your hair. “you’re never allowed to avoid me again.” he states, before kissing the top of your head.

[mediumgayitalian]

Nico really fucking hates capture the flag.

Well, not always. Last week was fun. Last week was the annual Everyone Against The Stolls (to atone for their crimes), and Nico got to chase Connor around at top speeds, cackling, committing his shrieking and begs for mercy to memory. That was nice. That almost made him forgive the fucker for digging a trench under Nico’s unwelcome mat for him to fall into at seven thirty in the godsdamn morning.

But tonight’s game is boring.

He’s been standing, alone, at the base of the flag for the past forty bajillion hours. He’d raised a few dozens skeletons to spar with at first, since animating them to fight himself isn’t technically against the rules, but that got dull fast. (It isn’t much fun sparring with a partner who doesn’t have a brain. He already has to do that enough with Percy when he comes to visit camp.) He’d climbed the various trees around the clearing, or at least he tried until he got reamed by the dryads for climbing on a manner that was too annoying (?), and tried his hands at a few summoning spells. Nothing held his interest long.

And now he’s just standing, doing nothing, and he’s not allowed to leave. He has to stay in this stupid spot on the off chance that someone comes stumbling over to fight him for the flag.

“You’re our best swordsman, she said,” he says mockingly, beaming the nastiest vibes he can manage in Piper’s vague direction. “We need you on our defensive line, she said. Nyeh nyeh nyeh.”

His checks his watch. He groans. He looks critically over the grass, looking for a softer patch, and when he locates it he throws himself dramatically upon it, groaning louder.

“This sucks!” he yells, to no one.

“Will you shut up!” shouts back the dryad he pissed off earlier. “For the love of photosynthesis! Fuck!”

He bites his tongue hard to hold back laughter. (If he can avoid getting his entire cabin overgrown with prickle bushes again, that’d be great.) “Sorry,” he calls, trying with everything he has to sound contrite. Convincing his father to fight the Titan War was easier, actually. Acting is not his calling.

“Hmph!”

At least listening to see if she’ll come out and yell at him again provides something to ease his boredom. Yes, he’s going to regret bothering her, but in his defense, solo guarding is cruel and unusual punishment. He’d rather sit by an outlet with a fork and see if he can poke and let go fast enough to avoid dying. That at least would be interesting.

A rustling of leaves recaptures his attention, and he pauses.

“Holly?”

When no one answers, which is odd because she’s taken every opportunity in the last hour to either insult him or pelt him with stones, he lifts his head.

“You’re not going to scare me, dude. I had my fear glands surgically removed to become a better soldier.”

Not true. Obviously. But a fun bonus of being the camp weirdo is that no one doubts anything he says. He’s working on convincing everyone younger than him that he needs weekly tributes of chocolate delivered to his door every Friday or the dead are going to take over the world. So far, it’s working.

“Look, Holly, I’m sorry about the zombie, okay, I promise it didn’t mean to sneeze part of its brain on you —”

The rustling sounds again, only this time Nico can see that it’s not Holly’s tree, and in fact she is nowhere to be found. Alarmed, he jumps to his feet, shifting so he’s balanced on the balls of his feet, poised to attack. Is Piper’s plan failing? Has someone actually managed to make it all the way over here without getting (gently, probably, although they lost the last game and Piper gets cranky without dessert) maimed?

The rustling sounds for a third time. This time, an armoured someone stumbles out of the underbrush, tripping over their own foot and nearly landing flat on their face.

Nico has his sword at their throat in a millisecond.

“Wo-oah, Morbius. That’s probably my least favourite sword you could stab in me.”

Nico goes bright red. “I have never wanted to stab you more than right this second.”

Will, chest plate skewed to the right, quiver completely empty, and black paint smeared under his eyes, snickers. He puts a finger on the tip of Nico’s sword and pushes it away from his neck.

“The opportunity was right there, babe. I couldn’t not.”

“You really, really could. In fact at all times, you should remember these words of wisdom: shut up.”

“…Damn. Inspiring.”

Nico rolls his eyes, but the effect is somewhat lessened by the smile on his face and the obvious pleasure in his expression. He’s even feeling merciful enough to accept Will’s kiss, although his sword keeps a good amount of distance between them. (Will’s on the blue team, after all. It would be unprofessional to be fraternizing with the enemy.

…Well, too much, anyway.)

“What’re you doing here? You’re supposed to be with the other archers, sitting in trees and causing havoc.”

Will shrugs, grinning lazily. “I quit. This game is senselessly violent and I’m Against It On Principle. I’m a pacifist, you know.”

“Uh huh.” Nico raises an eyebrow. “I assume this doesn’t count you choking Cecil out in a headlock, this morning.”

Will opens his mouth. Nothing comes out. He closes it again.

“Cecil is my mortal enemy,” he grudges after a moment. “He doesn’t count.”

“‘Course not. Not like you cried for two hours when he went to visit his mom last weekend or anything.”

“Will you — stop saying I cried. I barely teared up, okay. Barely.”

Nico can’t quite force down the stupid grin that pulls across his face, matching Will’s, nor can he resist grabbing the leather straps of his boyfriend’s armour and hauling him close.

“You better not be here to distract me,” he mumbles, leaning close and pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw, the corner of his mouth. Will hums, settling his hands on Nico’s hips.

“Nope. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Drama queen.”

“Excuse — I am the least dramatic, I’ll have you know. I’m a pinnacle of solemnity. I am a shining beacon of stoicism. I am — mmfh,” He trails off. “Okay, doing this now, mhm.”

Nico smiles triumphantly into the kiss. Will, he has found, is very easy to shut up, despite his long-running nickname of Motormouth. It’s almost like he has an off button that can be accessed only by Nico sticking his tongue in his mouth. Nico is doing his civic duty, honestly. He should be compensated for his service.

(‘Course, doesn’t hurt that Will smells, like, really good, all the time, and his lips are soft as hell and he is actually quite the kisser, in fact. That is definitely a fun bonus.)

He smooths his hands over Will’s shoulders, travelling up the sides of his neck and settling in his hair. Will keens, slightly, when he wraps a finger around a frizzy golden curl and tugs, slightly, when he scratches his nails along his scalp. The rush of power at the feeling makes Nico dizzy, and his sword clatters to the ground as he busies himself with more interesting — and important — things.

Like pulling more of those sounds from his boyfriend’s throat. Or making his knees buckle, again, like he did the other night — gods, that was good, it made Will flush scarlet and Nico feel like he was fuckin’ floating, to have Will so needy and touchy and totally at his mercy —

“Free line to the flag! Go go go go!”

Nico startles, whirling towards the sudden cacophony of noises. To his horror, what looks like half the camp, helmets shining with plumes of blue, comes pouring into the clearing, weapons raised, voices mixing in one long, victorious shout. He lunges for his sword, but before he can grab it, two strong arms tighten around his torso, pinning his hands to his side.

Immediately, he knows he’s been set up.

“Oh, you — fucker!”

He feels the curve of Will’s grin against his neck. “First shower privileges for a whole month, baby.” He noses along his jaw, pressing an apologetic kiss to his cheek. “Couldn’t resist.”

Nico struggles, aghast, watching the once-red flag shimmer in Lou Ellen's hold to a bright, shining blue. “I am breaking up with you, you traitor, you Iago, you vixen — ”

Will snorts. He ducks down and pecks Nico on the lips, again, and again, and then shifts to his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his temples, his forehead, and all over his face, making louder and louder mwah sounds until Nico is laughing, punching his shoulder and shoving him away.

“Okay! Okay. Let me go, you villainous toad. We will discuss how much you’ll have to grovel for my forgiveness after Piper finishes yelling at me for getting distracted.”

Will presses one last kiss to his nose, smiling cheekily before stepping away, heading towards his boasting team. “Enjoy that lecture! Love you!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Nico rolls his eyes, resting his aching cheek in his hand. “Love you too, asshole.”

[fandomnerd9602]

My Tears Ricochet

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

Warning ⚠️ ANGST AHEAD ⚠️

Pain, trauma, grief, all things that can manifest itself in an instant if you’re not careful enough to treat it. For your doe mate, it all came back to her in an instant.

It all began when you and Wanda arrived at the Sanctuary to a whole commotion going on. You ran up to Yelena, Natasha’s wolf sestra, her tail swishing happily.

“What’s going on?!” You asked the blonde haired wolf.

“Natasha went on a solo op,” yelena smiled, “she caught Dreykov. Hauled him right into the courtroom”

“Dreykov?” Wanda asked. You noticed she went pale white, she started stumbling a little.

“Bambi?” Yelena asked before jumping and helping you to catch your die from falling.

Wanda was breathing heavily, her heart rate jumped as the world around her was blurring. She knew that name. In her mind, she was back in that horrible place.

The lights became too bright. The noises became too loud. Tears flooded Wanda’s eyes.

“Wanda?! Bambi?! Baby can you hear me?!Get her out of here!” The voices of you and Yelena seemed to intertwine as Wanda tried to focus herself. She couldn’t focus herself. It was all too much.

“Get away! Get away from me!!!” She shouted, throwing her arms around. You felt a slam of her hand and arm to your face and chest, you fell to the ground in total shock.

Wanda’s vision cleared just enough to see what she did to you. “D-detka? Baby I-I didn’t mean to…”

She bolted. Running down the hallway of the place she had started to see as home.

The only thing that echoed in her ear was you calling after her. “Wanda! Baby it’s okay! I’m fine! Wanda!!!”

Wanda practically locked herself in the supply closet. Curled up in the fetal position, Wanda tried again to steady her thoughts but the memories, the pain, the torture, it all came flooding back.

“Wanda?” Natasha’s calming voice called out to her.

“G-go away” she cried into her long sleeve shirt.

“We’re not going anywhere, my doe” you answered back. You sat there on the ground outside of the closet.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered against the wood of the door.

“Baby you have nothing to be ashamed of,” you reassured her.

It took a few days but Wanda found herself and you sitting in the waiting room of one Doctor Stephen Strange - the only doctor your doe trusted at this point. But even with that, she found herself shivering just being there.

You tried to reach across to take her hand and calm her but she retracted her hand from yours. It wasn’t that she didn’t yearn for your touch. In her mind, she had hurt you too much already. The red bruise on your face was still evident. Just seeing it caused Wanda’s heart to shatter again.

In truth, the bruise didn’t bother you. Sting a little at first but you knew it was a defense mechanism and your doe could never hurt you intentionally. So you put on a brave face and tried to make sure she still felt loved. But she kept her distance from you still.

“Wanda?” Doctor Strange wandered into the waiting room, his honey badger tail waving side to side.

Wanda got up and you followed suit.

“Sorry (Y/N) this is just Wanda.” He offers you a sad smile. Wanda turns to you a little worried.

“I’m not going anywhere, my doe” you reassure her.

My doe. That phrase once gave her such comfort. Now it almost seemed like a cruel joke after the way she hit you. Wanda felt she could never forgive herself.

She gave you a solemn nod and walked off with Strange, leaving you alone in the waiting room.

Doctor Strange guided Wanda into his little office. She took to sitting on a couch while he took his favorite red chair.

“Wanda, first things first, this is a safe space,” he began softly, “ you can tell me anything and I won’t tell anyone outside of here. So what brings you to my office today?”

“A couple days back, I-I freaked out on my detka.” She tried to explain.

“A panic attack. Okay”

“I-I hit my detka. I-it was an accident! I-I didn’t mean to hurt my…”

Strange raised a hand up, “I know. It was an involuntary reaction to a traumatic memory.”

“Yes.” Wanda took a deep breath and laid her head against the couch’s arm.

“What do you feel triggered it?”

“Dreykov.” The answer came out as a mere whisper as the memories came flooding back again.

The story of her past. It kept her up in the early hours of the morning. The only thing that brought her a soothing balm was the feeling of your arms around her and now even that held a bad memory. All because of her actions.

Her story. The one she laid out for Doctor Strange was as followed:

Wanda Maximoff was born to her momma and poppa along with her twin brother Pietro. At a young age, she and her brother were called freaks for the antlers they had. She did everything she could to hide them, file them down, wear hats, and yet the humiliation continued.

Eventually, at only twelve years old, her home and parents were destroyed in an accident, leaving only Wanda and her brother to survive together. They were on the streets until age sixteen.

That’s when the facility, actually known as the Red Room, found them. The doctors and staff promised room, food and board. It was all a trap.

Countless hours of torture and near death experiences haunted them. Eventually Wanda and Pietro were separated.

Wanda felt truly alone. And then she met another deer hybrid by the name of Vision. He seemed to be from the British forests. He was nice, kind and caring.

Wanda found his kindness and compassion really endearing. She found herself falling in love with him.

Eventually she fell pregnant by him. But then the facility separated them too. And then came the needle pricks, the doctor’s probing, the loud noises, the heavy medication that kept her docile and unable to focus.

And then they came into the world. Her boys. Two of them. She whispered their names in their ears. Billy and Tommy. She was in love the moment she saw them. They were her hopes, her future, all wrapped into two small bodies.

The boys were with her for less than three months when the facility and its director Dreykov came and snatched them away from her. She begged and pleaded but they refused. She hadn’t seen her boys since.

And then came the task force. Natasha, her eventual wolf pal, led her team on the raid of the facility Wanda was trapped in. Natasha was stern yet motherly in all the right ways. A scientist was about to kill Wanda when Natasha burst into the room and slashed the guy to ribbons with her wolf claws.

“Hey there Bambi,” her eventual friend said, “wanna get out of here?” Wanda couldn’t get out of that facility faster.

Wanda then went on to explain how she met you and get butterflies instantly. She didn’t know what it was at the time but she knew she wanted to never leave your side again.

“And now I feel like I messed it up! All because of Dreykov.”

Strange looks to her, “Wanda you are NOT the villain here. You are a survivor. And a brave one at that”

“How do I move on? How do I learn to live again?”

Stephen chuckles, “seems like you’re doing a fine job already with (Y/N).”

“But I feel that I messed that up too!” Wanda buries her face in her hands.

“What would you hope to say to your boys?” Strange asks her gently. “Some day”

“They won’t hurt you ever again. Your momma and poppa will keep you safe. (y/N) is a good mate they will protect you” Wanda hugs her legs to her chest.

“Use that. Make it your mantra.” Stephen gently replies. He takes off his glasses and puts down his notepad, “you are stronger than you know. Smarter than you realize. And braver than most people.”

Tears begin to make their way down Wanda’s porcelain face. “Thank you Doctor Strange.”

“Only speaking the truth.” He gives her a sad smile. “Just take it slowly. You got yourself a wonderful support system with you. (Y/N), Natasha, and the rest of the staff at the sanctuary.”

Wanda gave it some thought. She had Natasha. And at the end of the day, she still had you. A small smile made its way across her face, “I do”

Wanda left that appointment feeling tired and yet a little confident too. You were right there in the waiting room, waiting on your doe.

She came right up to you and hugged you tight. “I love you so much” she whispered in your ear. You rubbed her back reassuringly, making sure that she felt every bit of love that she deserved.

“I love you, my doe” you kiss her shoulder affectionately, “I’m not going anywhere”

It was a long road ahead. But Wanda was confident she could face it. She had you. She had Natasha. And eventually she’d have Pietro and her boys back in her arms.

Tags @lifespectator @olsenmyolsen @julieromanoff @revanshand @russianredassassin @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7

[sydneyindawoodz]

”Back Off”

pair: caitlin Clark x fem!reader

It had been a tough practice, and as you waited for Caitlin outside the gym, you couldn’t help but feel a little out of place. You weren’t as loud or outgoing as her friends, especially Connor McCaffery, who never missed a chance to poke fun at you for being quiet. Today was no different. As he walked past, he gave you a smirk, clearly looking for an opportunity.

"Hey, why so quiet, as usual?" Connor teased, stopping in front of you. "I mean, you’re dating Caitlin Clark. You should probably learn to keep up with her, don’t you think?" His words stung, making your stomach twist in knots, but you didn’t know how to respond. Connor wasn’t being outright cruel, but his constant jabs made you feel small, like you didn’t fit in Caitlin’s world.

Just as you were fumbling for a reply, you heard Caitlin’s voice from behind. “Connor, knock it off.” Caitlin stepped up beside you, her expression firm as she shot him a look that left no room for argument. “She doesn’t have to be loud to be amazing.” She reached for your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours as she turned to you, her face softening instantly. "You don’t need to change who you are. I like you just the way you are—quiet and all," she said, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

Connor, clearly caught off guard by Caitlin’s protective tone, raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, I was just joking. No need to get defensive.” He backed off, leaving you and Caitlin alone.

Once he was gone, Caitlin turned to you fully, concern in her eyes. “I’m sorry he does that. I’ll talk to him and make sure he stops.” She lifted your chin gently with her free hand. “Don’t ever let anyone make you feel like you’re not good enough, okay? I’m with you because I love you, just as you are.”

Your heart swelled at her words, and all the tension from earlier melted away. You gave her a small smile, squeezing her hand in return. “Thank you,” you whispered, grateful to have someone like her by your side.

[pretzel-box]

you killed me with the last part of sunkissed 😭😭 i NEED a happy ending for it ill go insane!!!!!!!!

Sequel to Sunkissed Collection. Final Part.

Tags: Fluff, Established Relationship [Marriage], more fluff, comfort, reunion, more fluff again.

Words: 1,2k

Authors Note: It was a close call between not posting another part anymore or satisfying the mass of readers.

“It feels like… we’re not meant to be together,” Sebastian screamed suddenly into the hallway, his voice cracking under the heavy emotions he tried to conceal. All the words that didn't come out previously, were now spilling out of his mouth into the silence of the facility. “Not anymore.”

His breath hitched, his chest tightening at his own twisted words and his guilty mind ran wild with thoughts that screamed at him. His fluorescent eyes, usually so guarded, shimmered with the threat of unshed tears as he stared at you, a torrent of emotions storming behind them. For a moment, he was silent, lost in the tumult of his feelings. He doesn't know anymore at this point. He wished he could just run to you at full speed, tackle you from behind and start where you two left off. And at the same time, he knew it was unrealistic. You deserved your happiness, without his new life…

“And yet,” you continued his sentence, standing at the end of the hallway, the hand hovering above the door handle as if you had waited all along. Your voice was like a gentle balm in the heavy air, a strong contrast to him. While he was on the edge, you tried to be his lifeline, trying to save him from himself. “We aren't meant to part ways either.”

Sebastian's gaze met yours, and he felt his heart stir at the sight of your smile—the perfect, warm smile he cherished so deeply. The one that, in his darkest moments, always brought him hope. It was a sign that everything was okay. And if it wasn’t, then somehow, someday, it would be. Seeing it again after all those years, not in his broken memories, but right in front of his very eyes, made something in him flip. He thought you had already left.

“Oh, Sebastian,” you murmured, your voice carrying a tenderness that seemed to melt away the fear holding him back.

He flinched as you took a few gentle steps forward, your hand reaching out to him with such care, such deliberate grace, that he couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth, his cheeks flushing with a mixture of surprise and longing. “Even if it seems impossible.” Your fingers hovered near his skin, tracing soft circles over his cheekbones, gliding into the dark waves of his raven locks. The touch was so familiar, so filled with unspoken love, that he felt his defenses crumble. “I would do anything.”

You were still here. You hadn’t left.

“Anything to give us one last chance, even when I know it's already over.”

Slowly, hesitantly, Sebastian raised his own trembling hand, placing it softly over yours. He was scared, terrified that this was just another cruel trick of his mind. But the moment his cold fingers touched yours, a spark ignited in his heart, warm and real, spreading through him like wildfire.

He felt a rush of emotion—a mixture of relief, hope, and an overwhelming love he’d buried deep within himself for so long. You were here. Truly here. And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you could find your way back to each other.

“I’ve missed you… so much.”

Sebastian’s breath hitched as the dam of his deep emotions finally broke. Tears began to fall freely, tracing the contours of his cheeks, and his body trembled with the force of his sobs. He could no longer hold back the pain, the guilt, the relief that flooded him all at once, that suffocated him from the very inside. It felt like a tidal wave crashing over him, threatening to pull him under.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice raw with emotion. “I’m so sorry for everything… For what I’ve become, for the things I’ve done to survive… I—” His words were cut off by a sob that tore through his chest, his shoulders shaking as he buried his face in his hands, ashamed to meet your all loving eyes.

You moved closer, wrapping your arms around him with a loving care, pulling him into a tight embrace. “Sebastian,” you whispered softly, your voice filled with a quiet, unwavering love. “Look at me.” When he didn’t, refusing to disgust you further with his apperance, you gently lifted his chin with your hand, guiding his tear-filled gaze to meet yours. “I love you. No matter what you look like, no matter what you’ve done… I love you.”

He blinked, his three eyes wide and shimmering with fresh tears, his breath catching in his throat once more. “But… how can you?” he whispered, his voice breaking with the weight of his guilt and self-loathing. “After everything… how can you still love me?”

You smiled softly, a tender warmth in your mesmerizing eyes as you held his gaze. “Do you remember our wedding vows?” you asked, your thumb brushing away the tears on his cheek. “At the beach, with the waves crashing behind us? You promised me to be my home. And I made the same promise to you, Sebastian Solace.”

He nodded, barely able to speak, the memory flooding back—the salty breeze, the sound of the ocean, the way your eyes sparkled with happiness as you exchanged your vows. He remembered how you both laughed when the wind caught the veil, how you both spoke with such conviction, such hope for the future.

“Those vows… they weren’t just words,” you continued, your voice soft but firm. “They were a promise. A promise that I still keep, no matter what. I don’t care what you look like now or what you’ve done to survive. I care about you, the man I married, the man I still love with all my heart.”

A strangled cry escaped Sebastian’s lips, a mix of relief and heartbreak, and he collapsed against you, his arms wrapping around you tightly as if afraid you might vanish if he let go. “What belongs together will be together, Sebastian. No matter what comes before, between or after.” His face buried in the crook of your neck, his tears soaking your skin. “I… I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice muffled, full of anguish.

You stroked his dark hair gently, pressing a soft kiss to his temple like you did countless times before in the past. “Maybe,” you replied, your tone teasing yet full of love, “but you’re stuck with me anyway.”

He chuckled softly through his tears, a small, broken laugh, and for the first time in so long, he felt a flicker of hope. You were here, holding him, loving him despite everything. You hadn’t turned away, hadn’t abandoned him.

“You’ve always been stubborn,” he whispered, his voice trembling but softer now, filled with a kind of peace he hadn’t felt in years.

“And you love me for it,” you replied, a smile in your voice as you held him close, feeling the tension slowly leaving his body.

“I do,” he murmured, his grip on you tightening. “I love you so much.”

And as you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, it felt as if the world around you faded away. It was just the two of you, together again, bound by the love and promises you made on that beach so many years ago. And for the first time in a long time, Sebastian dared to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for happiness, since he was home once more.

[kingstarkingslay]

a pretty long head cannon about how Sirius leaves little notes for Remus in his books ( bear with me here ) :

Sirius sneaks into Remus’ Advanced Potion-Making and scribbles “This page tastes like licorice. Lick it.” Remus, half-asleep, actually licks the book. He chases Sirius down the corridor, throwing the book at his head.

Sirius starts underlining random passages and adding commentary: “Boring. Skip this.” “Imagine Dumbledore in this hat. (You’re welcome.)” Remus pretends to be annoyed, but James catches him smiling at a particularly stupid joke about troll politics.

Sirius gets bolder. “You sighed three times reading this chapter. Tell me why over tea?” “This character reminds me of you. (It’s the tragic backstory.)” Remus starts keeping the notes, tucking them between his favorite pages like pressed flowers.

Sirius steals Remus’ copy of Wuthering Heights and underlines every angsty line, adding: "This is us. You’re Heathcliff (brooding) and I’m Cathy (dramatic)." Remus writes beneath it: "Except I wouldn’t die for you. I’d just make you tea and tell you to stop being ridiculous." Sirius underlines that too, with a heart.)

Remus opens his battered copy of Peter Pan to find, in Sirius’ messy script: “Moony—I’d never grow up if it meant staying like this with you. (Cheesy? Yes. Do I mean it? Also yes.)” He doesn’t say anything. Just hands Sirius the book later, with a single word added beneath: “Okay.” (Sirius beams so hard he trips over the sofa.)

Remus is trying to focus on his Defense Against the Dark Arts essay, but Sirius keeps nudging his foot under the table. Finally, Remus snaps open his textbook to find: "You’ve ignored me for 17 minutes. That’s cruel and unusual punishment, Moony. - Your Prisoner Sirius Black" Remus scribbles back: "Solitary confinement lasts another hour. Stay quiet and maybe I’ll reduce your sentence." (Sirius spends the next 45 minutes dramatically sighing and folding notes into paper airplanes.)

Sirius slips a note into a random library book Remus is holding: "Meet me in the Restricted Section in 10 minutes. Bring snacks. -Your Favorite Criminal" Remus, flustered, scribbles back: "We’re banned from the Restricted Section." Sirius’ reply, passed under the table: "That’s why it’s fun."

After a full moon, Remus wakes up to find Sirius’ handwriting in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them: "You drool in your sleep. It’s disgusting. (I watched you for an hour. Worth it.)" Beneath it, in Remus’ sleepy scrawl: "You’re a creep. (But you’re warm. Stay.)"

Years later, Remus finds an old potions book in Grimmauld Place. Tucked inside is a yellowed note: "If you’re reading this, I’m probably dead. (Morbid, sorry.) But just in case—you were the best part of it all. Padfoot." (He doesn’t cry. Not where anyone can see.)

[pkg4mumtown]

Medicine at Midnight

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Summary: A night out with Hotch and his team leads to either the best or worst mistake you could have made.

Content Warnings: smut 18+, alcohol, GN!reader (no Y/N), friends with benefits, strong language, first person POV

A/N: My entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Criminal Minds Friends with Benefits Challenge. It also happens to be the first CM fic I’ll be posting but certainly not the last! I’m currently working on a multi-chapter Hotch x Male!Reader fic, so stay tuned. I’ve also added the playlist I used for Hotch inspiration at the end of the post.

Also available on AO3

I barely managed to enter my apartment and drop my gear to the floor when the shrill ringtone of my cellphone broke the otherwise pleasant silence.

Fuck. Me.

I plead to whoever is listening that it’s not my section chief calling about a case. I ripped the cellphone from my pocket, too frustrated to even look at the caller ID as I snapped out my last name.

“Rough night?” came the deep, soothing voice on the other end.

Oh.

“Hey, Aaron,” I sighed and relaxed. “Sorry, I thought it was another case.”

“It’s okay. Are you busy?” He asked and I could hear the slightest hint of hope in his voice.

“Depends on what you’re going to ask me and...what I’ll get in return,” I stressed. “I just got home.”

“I can promise free drinks,” he chuckled, the vibrations buzzing through to my end of the phone. “The team is going out and Dave just went out of town.”

Hotch doesn't need to say more than that for me to understand what he’s asking. He wants a social buffer and for free drinks I’ll do just about anything for him.

~

His team had helped the DC Field Office with a case that I oversaw about six months back. The case had quickly spiraled out of control with multiple unsubs, and I begged my chief to let us call the BAU in for help. While they didn’t swoop in and solve the case in a matter of days, they certainly got it back to a manageable position. What would have taken months of work was quickly cut down to two weeks.

Since it was still relatively local, Hotch’s team would go home every night and come back bright and early. One of the first nights with them on the case, I waved them goodnight; standing like I would be leaving shortly after them. As they disappeared out of sight, I sat back down and stayed firmly planted at my desk. I was still flipping through files over the umpteenth coffee of the day when soft footsteps stopped in front of my desk.

“You’re still here?”

Hotchner.

“Yea, I’m just...” I gestured vaguely to the files. “I don’t really know what I’m looking for anymore. Just hoping I can find something.” I gave him a tight smile as he hovered by my desk. His bag was nowhere in sight, so it was clear he had no plans to leave either.

The grim smile on his face confirmed that he was doing exactly the same.

“I’m sure he's waiting for you at home,” he nodded to the picture on my desk as I went back to looking at the files in front of me.

“That’s my cousin,” I stated without having to look. “No one’s waiting for me, I promise you that. Plus, you don’t seem like you’re leaving either, so...”

“Got me there,” Hotch smirked, shifting his weight nervously as I paid half-attention to him. “I won’t snitch if you won’t? My son is with his aunt, so my apartment is a little depressing.”

At that confession, I looked back up at him as his expression turned crestfallen.

“Deal. You can pull up a chair, if you want.” I suggested, seeing that the floor was pretty much empty now and it seemed cruel to make him sit by himself wherever we were able to stuff his team on the cluttered floor.

This went on for the next two weeks that the BAU worked with us and each night the ice broke a little more. That extra hour or two after the team left progressed from talking about the case to talking about ourselves. It was surprisingly easy considering his personality on a case, but once his defenses came down, he was more relaxed and even threw in a smile that I began to notice was quite rare.

I began noticing his nearly imperceptible antics when he was stressed. His tight expression would feign focus but his white-knuckled grip on whatever was in his hand told a different story. I caught myself pressing a finger to his tight fist throughout the day, making him aware of what he was doing before removing my fingers as soon as his fist loosened. At some point, he stopped straining his hand muscles, but I’d feel his finger pressing firmly against one of mine whenever he was near me. It was usually brief, just enough to feel the ridges on each other’s fingers before his touch was gone.

After the case was over, I never expected to hear from him. Hotch’s number stayed saved in my phone from the case, but never once did I expect to see it flash across my screen while driving home one night. Drinks became a nearly weekly occurrence between the two of us—provided neither of us were on a case—and while nothing more ever happened, I couldn't tell what his endgame was. We chatted about the weeks we both had, family, sorrows—all of it—all the while our hands pressed against each other just to feel another person.

I chalked it up to anxiety for him and loneliness for myself.

~

Despite our nights out together, we never went out with his team, and I hadn't seen them since the case all those months ago. So, it was a little unnerving to accept his invitation. How would he explain us being on friendly terms now despite not knowing each other prior to the case? Would they even care? Does it even matter?

“Uh, sure. Where at? I just need to change,” I answered him.

“I’ll pick you up in twenty?” he asked, and I shouldn’t have been surprised at his need to drive by now.

Control freak.

“Okay.”

“See you soon.”

I changed into something more comfortable, but not too comfortable. I didn’t want to look like I wanted to stay home curled on my couch.

Even if that sounded heavenly right now. Hotch could come, too.

When Aaron sent a text to tell me he was here, I was out the door in a few seconds. The inside of his SUV lit up as I opened the door, revealing him dressed in a dark, long-sleeved sweater and jeans.

“Hey,” he greeted me as I climbed in.

“Thanks for picking me up.”

Once I was seated and buckled, I rested my arm on the center console next to his. His sleeves were pushed up to his forearms, his hair tickling my skin as he took off. At the first red light we hit, he adjusted the radio and brought his hand back down to land directly on mine.

He didn’t move it, and I didn’t want him to.

The air was thick with booze and sweat as we entered the bar. It was different from the one Hotch and I usually frequented, preferring something quieter and lower key than this one. It’s crowded, not surprising for a Friday night, but it sure did make it more difficult to locate his team. This time, I'm the one initiating contact, pressing two fingers into his palm as we approached where the team was tucked into a back corner booth. I removed my fingers before they noticed our approach.

“Hotch!” They all greeted him at varying levels of excitement with empty glasses already littering the table.

How long had they been here already?

Morgan had begun moving the team deeper in the booth to make room for us when I recognized a member of their team who I had only seen via a computer screen.

“Hey, nice to see you again,” I greeted everyone, having to raise my voice as the music battled with the overlapping conversations around us. “You must be Garcia,” I reached over and shook her hand as we slid in.

Her excitement was contagious, and I couldn’t help myself from grinning as she spoke and reintroduced the team by first name. There were looks and eyebrows exchanged between the others as they likely wondered exactly what I’d feared, but none of them expressed their questions verbally.

“Drink?” I heard Hotch ask as a waiter came by and I nodded to him, knowing it’ll help my nerves.

I didn’t even need to tell him what drink to order at this point.

“Thanks,” I smiled and felt him shift closer to me until our legs were practically glued together.

It must have been my lucky day because the team kept the conversation topics relatively light as the night wore on. There were plenty of shots going around—Hotch only agreeing to have one with them in solidarity—coupled with food, a few spill mishaps, and raucous laughter. Hotch laughed and smiled with them but not nearly as loudly. He did surprisingly well anxiety-wise, so I wasn’t entirely sure why he wanted me here in the first place. I was having fun, though, and he’d insisted on paying for me, so I didn’t think too hard on it.

My hands were both above the table fidgeting with the condensation on my glass as we loudly discussed the current topic. Hotch tapped his fingers on his glass rhythmically with one hand while the other dropped below and landed on my leg. I jumped at the contact and hoped everyone was too inebriated to notice.

No dice.

Spencer's glassy eyes snapped to my movement briefly, JJ made eye contact across the table with Penelope, Emily stared me dead in the eyes, and Derek stared at Hotch. If I wasn't also in the same line of work, it might not have been so noticeable considering they hadn’t stopped the conversation.

Hotch played it off, slouching back against the booth and laughing at whatever Emily was recanting, looking a little more at ease with the touch.

Now, I notice the difference.

As nonchalantly as possible, he relaxed his arm, slipped his hand between my knees, and tucked his palm under my leg to cup where my hamstring met the bend in my leg. I could feel his warmth through my pants and the way his thumb obsessively traced the inner seam near my knee.

I almost thought they would ignore the way he was leaning noticeably closer, and I was sorely disappointed when Penelope spoke up after Emily finished.

Penelope's eyes were perceptive, and she leaned forward playfully while Derek leaned into her with his arm draped over her shoulder, “So, you two,” she began. Her eyes were twinkling with far too much mischief and now I believed every word from Hotch about how much trouble her and the man next to her got in to together, “You’re...?”

I grinned, laughing off her intrigue and kept my voice as steady as possible, “We’re friends.”

Derek in this state was even more blunt, teasing Hotch further with a smirk playing on his lips, “With benefits?”

Penelope gasped that he followed up with that line while the others hid giggles behind their drinks.

Hotch’s brow furrowed and he lifted his drink off the table as a flush rose up his neck to his cheeks. He took a sip while looking in my direction and I held his gaze. There’s a look I didn’t quite recognize there. “Without sex?” he finally said once he swallowed and set his glass down, “Then, what’s the benefit?”

The entire table erupted into laughter. Derek and Penelope were practically laughing on top of each other, Emily was laughing behind the hand clasped over her mouth with huge, surprised eyes, and Spencer was laughing into JJ's shoulder.

I was just as surprised as them and hadn’t broken eye contact with Aaron yet. His hand had reassuringly squeezed my leg as he smirked to let me know he was joking. With a challenging glint in my eyes, I finally responded as the laughter died down a bit. “My delightful company, asshole,” I shoved him with my shoulder. “And someone to talk to and...did I mention my winning personality?”

Hotch laughed, closing his eyes and leaned heavily back into me. He moved his hand from my leg to wrap his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side.

“Dick,” I murmured playfully through a fake frown.

Aaron just slid over a leftover shot as consolation.

The rest of the night passed in a blur, but the sudden mention of sex has me sweating underneath my clothes. Hotch’s heavy arm and sweater did nothing to help that. It wasn’t like I was unaware of his attractiveness; I was simply unsure of his intentions considering we had never spoke about our relationship. There were plenty of times I had to talk myself out of kissing him despite how easy it would have been, but the look in his eyes when he said that had me digging up all those thoughts again.

It wasn’t a terrible idea. We were both single, busy, and hung out enough as it was. I liked to think were both mature enough to handle something like that. I took another long swig of my drink with a deep frown that I didn’t realize was there.

“You okay?” he dropped his head to murmur close to my ear.

He snapped me out of my thoughts, and I gave him a reassuring grin, “Yea.”

The bar crowd grew thinner and thinner as time passed. Reid looked like he could fall asleep any second and JJ was the only barrier holding him up. The team soon rose, promising to take cabs home to reassure their boss that they were all responsible adults.

Derek gave Aaron one last sly smirk before following Penelope and the others. Hotch just shook his head at him with an amused sigh.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” Aaron murmured once they were gone, his voice low now that the bar was much quieter than it was hours ago.

“Of course. It was fun,” I leaned my head on his shoulder.

Despite the absence of the others, he didn’t retract his arm, and my heart started pounding a little faster at the thought. His touch felt more intimate after all that and it made my thoughts race.

How much was I reading into this? How wrong was I? And did I want to do something about it?

“Ready to go? It’s almost midnight,” He asked.

I nodded, finishing my drink.

The drive back to my place was quiet and I fiddled with his hand the entire drive. Between that and my constant looking over at him, he definitely knew something was wrong.

“What’s on your mind?” He raised an eyebrow and gave me a quick glance but refocused his eyes back on the road immediately.

“Hmm?”

“You’re being weird. Is it what I said back there? Because I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he gave me his full attention once he pulled up in front of my building.

“No, no, you’re fine,” I squeezed his fingers. “Just a lot on my mind,” I sighed. I looked out at my apartment building next to us and pursed my lips.

Fuck it.

“You—uh—wanna come up?”

There was absolutely no other reason for me to ask that. He had to know why I was asking without me saying it outright.

Right?

My nerves were on fire and my mind raced with all the possibilities he could come back with. Silent, Hotch took a beat to think and reached for the keys in the ignition, “Sure.”

Oh.

I was hyper aware of Aaron’s presence as he followed me upstairs to my apartment door. My hands were practically shaking with anticipation as I fiddled with the keys. Once I was inside, I left the door open for him and heard him lock it behind me. The click cemented my determination on the matter.

“Make yourself at home,” I nodded toward the couch and started flipping lights on. “Want something to drink?”

“I still have to drive,” he declined, his eyes following me to the kitchen.

“You can always stay here,” I reached up into my cabinets for two glasses and poured a drink for myself and a scotch for Hotch.

“Is that so?” His voice rumbled behind me, much closer than he had been a few seconds ago.

When the hell did he sneak up on me?

I turned to face him, finding him far closer than I imagined. I passed him his drink, which he took a tall sip of, and I hurried to catch up.

That sip must have given him the courage he needed because he set the glass back on my counter and took another step forward. His hand found my waist with a light touch. It wasn’t hesitant by any means, but light enough to ask permission to continue. Unlike the nervous movements in his hands earlier, his hands were confident and intentional now.

“Is this okay?”

“—eah,” I struggled to say as my voice got caught in my throat.

Hotch took the glass from my hand and set it behind me, crowding what little space I had left. We were tense with anticipation as we both leaned in, giving each other enough time to back out. His nose brushed mine, then his lips, before he was fully pressed against me. His tongue flicked out making me gasp and open mine wider. My hands slid under his sweater, feeling his warm skin beneath my fingers. We stayed like that; exploring, consuming, devouring until there was a pause between us. The was air heavy with desire and our breathing.

As I caught my breath, I reached back and grabbed my glass, taking the opportunity to throw back the last of the liquid. Aaron did the same, keeping his eyes fixated on the way my lips wrapped around the glass. I left my glass on the counter and took his hand, tugging him toward my bedroom. I heard his glass clatter on the counter as he left it behind in a rush to follow me.

I threw him a look over my shoulder and tugged my top off, throwing it off to the side. Aaron didn’t need to be encouraged anymore further and ripped his hand out of mine to follow suit. Clothes and shoes were haphazardly discarded until there was nothing left between us. I barely had time to sift through my drawer for the essentials before he was grabbing me around the waist and tugging me onto the mattress. His mouth reconnected with mine, his fingers digging into the mattress as his hips ground down against mine.

“Fuck me, please,” I panted as soon as our mouths separated.

“Gladly.”

He blindly reached for the condom I tossed near him. Once he located it, his oversized fingers fumbled with the packaging. The task was eventually accomplished with minimal difficulty and only a couple giggles as he accidentally pinched himself. The laughter eased the butterflies in my stomach, and I hoped this wouldn’t fuck up whatever we had going for us prior to tonight.

Aaron quickly snatched the bottle of lube and coated his fingers generously. As his fingers pressed against my entrance, I whined in anticipation and wriggled my hips to get him moving. I watched his eyes flutter shut as he put more pressure, jaw dropping in concentration as he focused. As soon as his fingers breached, he couldn’t help himself.

I felt the wet heat of his mouth descend on me, his tongue swirling and lips sucking on my overly sensitive skin. I was torn between tilting my head back to enjoy the feeling and wanting to watch his mouth work. I finally decided to look down, my breath catching as I saw his eyes already trained on me through his lashes. His cheeks hollowed ever so slightly as he sucked making me reach to grab his hair for any sort of purchase. The noises that came from him were sinful and I eventually had to pull his head away once I felt myself ready.

“Need you, please,” I pulled him up to me, feeling him pull his fingers out gently.

We were both understandably impatient with the mix of alcohol and lust. He reached for a pillow with his clean hand and stuffed it under my hips for a better angle. With one last pass of lube over the condom, I felt the blunt press of him against me.

“I’ve got you,” his breath stuttered as he guided himself inside slowly.

My fingers dug into his shoulders as he bottomed out before moving down his back and urging him to go. I let out a moan of relief as his hips started moving, rocking into me slowly at first. Without warning, his mouth sealed over mine and swallowed the gasp I let out as he sharply thrusted, hitting exactly where I need him to.

“More,” I mumbled against his lips.

Aaron was efficient, even now, and repeated himself until I was a whining mess underneath him. He sat up, making enough space to slip his hand between us. I clenched involuntarily as his calloused fingers stroked me, bringing me that much closer to release.

“You feel so good,” he panted. “Squeeze me again.”

I do as he asked, squeezing around him each time he pulls out. The groans pulled from his chest only added fuel to the fire and I didn’t know how I ever survived without hearing them. My hands couldn’t stay still, moving from gripping his arms to running across his collarbone and chest.

“I’m gonna come, I—” I had cut myself off by bringing Hotch’s mouth back down to mine.  My muscles tightened as my release washed over me, fingers digging into whatever I can reach while I clenched around the cock still driving inside me.

Aaron removed his hand from between us, doubling down on his efforts to finish himself. His head tucked into my neck, giving me an even better opportunity to hear Aaron’s moans as he reached his orgasm. His hips stuttered as his release pulsed throughout his body, making him tremble in my arms. When he couldn’t handle the overstimulation anymore, he let himself slip out of me.

He let out a deep hum as we caught our breath, pressing one last kiss to my neck before pushing himself up to his feet. He cleaned himself with a grimace with me not far behind, eager to get the slick substance off my skin. I headed straight back to bed, flopping on the slightly sweaty sheets.

I’m too tired to fix that, I decided.

“I meant it, you can stay,” I mumbled in the dark as I heard his movement pause somewhere between the bed and the bathroom. “Don’t need you getting behind the wheel right now.”

“Mm, thanks,” his sleepy voice returned.

The bed dipped beside me and soon the length of his body was pressed against my back.

~

A sharp jolt pulled me out of my deep slumber. Through the haze I finally I heard the piercing ringtone of a phone. It’s not mine, I realized as I listen to it a second longer. The bed shifted next to me and frantic footsteps thudded across my floor as Aaron looked for his phone.

If he ended up with a case, it was going to massively suck for his hungover team.

“Hey, Jess,” he answered in a far less panicked tone than his feet originally suggested. “Uh, yea. Yea, one is good. Okay, see you then.”

He came back into the room with a more relaxed posture than when he left. He sat on the edge of the bed on the side I was still curled up on, watching him move with sleepy eyes.

“Just Jessica letting me know she’s dropping off Jack at my place at one,” he relayed.

A quick glance at the clock let me know it was only 10:00 AM, which wasn’t bad considering the night we had.

Aaron's hand found my ankle through the sheets, letting his hand glide up to my calf and back down. His face was contemplative though not as outwardly noticeable as the way I chewed the inside of my cheek.

He spoke first.

“That was,” he started, letting a smirk spread over his features, “fun.”

“It was. I…wouldn’t mind if it happened again.”

“Me either,” he punctuated with a squeeze of my calf.

There was a comfortable silence for a minute until he spoke up again, “I’m just—I'm not really looking to—.” He stopped and started again, “Since Haley died I—I’m just not...”

He didn’t have to explain to me the fact that his ex-wife slash high school sweetheart being murdered had done a number on his psyche. I didn’t blame him.

“I get it, Aaron. I’m not either. I’m way too busy and—I just don’t want to,” I replied. It wasn’t a total truth, but it also wasn’t a total lie. I was too busy but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to.

For Aaron, though? I would take what he gave me.

He relaxed a little, his eyes a little sad and I wondered if he could see right through me.

I hope he didn’t.

“I should go,” he murmured, leaning forward and pressing a chaste kiss to my cheek while the other side was pressed into my pillow.

When he pulled away, I turned my head to really look at him head on, not expecting him to come back down and kiss me again. This time on my lips, slowly and sensually; a far cry from the desperation last night.  When my eyes opened, he was already up and looking for his clothes.

“I’ll see you next weekend?” I rubbed my hands over my face, sitting up as he gets dressed.

He flashed me a look as if to say “obviously” and threw my discarded top at my face.

“Be careful,” I called after him.

“You, too,” he paused, patting his jeans to make sure all of his belongings were in order. When he was satisfied, he gave me a gentle smile and headed in the direction of my front door.

“Lock the door behind me!” he yelled back before opening the front door and shutting it behind him.

I rolled my eyes and flopped back over onto the bed on my side. I still smelled his scent on my sheets and wondered how I could have thought that this would be a good idea.

~

Ever get the feeling nothing else will do?

I could hear you singing

I can’t explain, I need

Medicine at midnight

But it ain’t no cure

Medicine at midnight howling

But it ain’t no cure

I may be sick but you know I’m yours

-Medicine at Midnight, Foo Fighters

[prettyflyforawhitelie]

I wanted to request something for Husk, if that's alright! Their rooms are next to each other, and Husk just so happens to hear her cry. Reader is not being loud, she just couldn't hold back a particularly strong sob and he heard her. He keeps listening and now that he is paying close attention, he can hear soft sobbing. He goes to check in on her and she apologizes for waking him up, but is too shy to admit she was crying right away. I would love to see some fluff/comfort! Thank you <3

This is adorable! I love love love writing fluff. Thanks for the request! This turned out a bit angstier than I planned, but I think it balances out nicely with the fluff. If you want one that's just purely fluff, please message me and I will be happy to rewrite/write another! I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Husk x Reader

Warnings: Violence, Weapons, Drink Spiking, Alcohol

Word Count: 1809

“This Night has Opened my Eyes” - Husk x Reader

Today had been a long day. And that’s the understatement of the year. This was the day that you and the other residents of the hotel had been planning on for months… the war against the angels. You had prepped weapons, defense, and plans all of yesterday, but nothing could have stopped the inevitable bloodshed that accompanied war. Angels were cruel, fierce beings that didn't care about the lives of sinners so long as they increased their “kill count.” They hunt sinners for sport, and nothing, not even the princess of Hell, was going to stand in their way. 

This was evident when Adam and the angels mercilessly broke through the forcefield that Alastor had cast around the hotel. Fuck. That was you and your friends’ only shot at winning this battle. As you scan your environment to assess how many angels are coming at you, you also assess the casualties among your newly found “battalion”. So many of Rosie’s cannibals were surrounding you, dead. The sight was awful. Families, all with hopes and dreams, lay crushed beneath your feet. You look around for any signs of life from your friends, seeing Angel wielding 6 machine guns and… was that Sir Pentious and Cherri kissing? Never mind that, you had one person and one person only on your mind… your boyfriend Husk. Last night, you were expressing how worried you are about the possibility that one (or both) of you may not make it out of this war alive. He assured you that he could hold his own, particularly worried about you. You trusted your fighting abilities, but if something happened to Husk and you weren’t there to help him, you don't think you would ever be able to forgive yourself.

You find yourself facing your worst nightmare after fighting off two particularly feisty exterminators. You turn a corner of the horribly wrecked hotel to continue your search for Husk, only to be met with your boyfriend’s injured body laying on the ground, struggling to crawl to shelter. 

“HUSK!” you shout, running to him and helping him up. 

When your hands moved to his back to guide him to shelter, you noticed that something was missing. His - his wings. They were brutally ripped off of his back, leaving only grotesque stubs where they used to be. 

“Oh- Oh my Satan, we need to get you the fuck out of here. Why didn't you call for me? For anyone?!”

“I- I didn't want anyone-” he struggles to finish his sentence, fading in and out of consciousness. “I didn't want anyone to get hurt”

You managed to essentially drag him just out of sight of the exterminators, behind a particularly dull-looking building. You used any loose pieces of clothing that you could spare to put together a makeshift-bandage, only half-stopping the blood that was seeping from his back. 

“I’m sorry… you’ll be okay. Please be okay. I’ll make you okay.” you say as he winces from the pain. 

And for the first time in your life, you prayed.

To whom, it was unknown. I doubt the prayers of the damned are granted, but you needed more than anything for this to just be a bad dream. 

************************************************************************

As you wake up, your body is drenched in a cold sweat and tears are streaming down your face. You realize that this was all some fucked up dream, but the fact that it could become a reality very soon terrified you. You simply couldn’t stop the tears from running down your face, small sobs escaping from your lips. 

You reach your side table for your phone, only to see that it’s 3:42 AM. Damn, you really hoped you weren’t being too loud right now. Stifling tears, you notice several missed texts from Angel:

_____________________________________________________________

[12:00 AM]

💬Angel: I saw what he put in there, i dont think its deadly… might give you a wild trip tho. but i gave the guy a good beat down on ur behalf lmaooo ;) Left u in ur room to sleep it off, didnt want any idiots to seeya like that

[12:34 AM]

💬Angel: bitch whyd you lock ur door :(

[1:00 AM]

💬Angel: Y/N are you up yet?????

💬Angel: shitshitshitshit

💬Angel: Pls text me when you get up!!!!

____________________________________________________________

Reading these texts suddenly flooded you with memories of the night before (or, really, a couple hours ago.)

You and Angel Dust had decided that, fuck it, if the extermination was coming in a few days, you might as well party like there’s no tomorrow. Heading to the nearest club, you guzzled beelzejuice like it was the last thing in Hell and maybeee fucked around and flirted with a couple guys. As one of the guys you were talking to brought you a drink while Angel was on the dance floor, you downed it and started dancing with him. It wasn’t until your vision started fading that you realized that this asshole spiked your drink. Luckily, Angel was able to spot the signs from across the way and immediately scooped you up and brought you back to the hotel, screaming at the guy as you left. According to his text, I guess Angel went back to the club and fucked the guy up a bit, which made you feel a bit better. Sometimes experiences like these remind you that, yeah, you’re still in Hell. 

Remembering this only made you cry more. The tears flowed for a multitude of reasons: you were so angry that someone had the balls to spike your drink - to spike ANYONE’S drink! You were also so mad at yourself for allowing some rando to buy you a drink without you looking. You were also so grateful that Angel had such a watchful eye and cared for you so much. You guessed that the hallucinogen the man spiked you with was the cause of your terrifyingly hyper-realistic dream. 

You then remember what time it is, realizing that you had let a particularly loud sob escape your mouth. Shit. You really hoped that nobody woke up because of your crying. That would be embarrassing… to say the least. This thought was interrupted by a knock on the door. Damnit. 

“Who is it?” you ask.

“It’s me,” Husk replies. 

Husk had heard your quiet sobs from the next room over and was listening by your door. As he heard that the cries weren’t dissipating, he decided to check on you. You quickly tried to hide any evidence that you were crying, wiping your tears on your sleeve and trying to eliminate any signs of redness on your face.

“What’s up?” you ask.

“Can I come in?” Husk replies.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” you say, waiting for him to enter.

“Hello?” you ask.

“It’s locked.” he replies.

You remember Angel’s text with a small laugh and get up to open your door, taking one more precaution to wipe your face before doing so. You open the door to see Husk’s tired yet worried face.

“You ok?” you ask him.

“I think I should be asking you that.” he says while entering your room, leaving you standing at the doorway. 

“Uh, I mean, yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“I heard you crying from my room.” he says, looking at you worriedly.

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I mean, it’s, like, 4AM.” you reply, trying to seem nonchalant and like he was the one interrupting your sleep.

“Okay, I may be tired, but I’m not dumb.” he says, matter-of-factly. 

“I wasn’t crying! I was probably just snoring or something.” You take his hand into yours. “But, I appreciate you checking up on me. Okaygoodnightseeyouinthemorningbyeeeeee!” you say while trying to lead him to the door.

“Sure.” he says, clearly calling your bluff. “You do know you can always talk to me, right? That’s what I’m here for, hon.” he says, genuinely looking into your eyes while holding both of your hands. His pure care for you overpowers any urge to hide your emotions from him, and you exhale.

“Fine. I was crying.” you confess.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I guess.” you lead him back to sit on your bed. 

“I- I went out with Angel last night. I think, if i can remember, some guy spiked my drink with what I assume is a hallucinogen.” You could see Husk becoming visibly angry. “Anyways, Angel got me out of there before anything bad could happen. I guess I came back up here and passed out, but I had a horrible dream.”

“You better have a description of the guy so I can beat his ass to a bloody pulp-”

“No. It’s not that.”

“What is it then?”

“The nightmare… it was-”

“That’s what this is all about? It couldn’t have been that bad-” he asks.

“No, you don't get it. It was extermination day… the angels were ruthless. I looked around and I… I couldn't find you anywhere. I fought angels and searched relentlessly for you, only to find you left for dead with your-” you shift in your seat, the mere thought of the nightmare making you upset. “-With your wings torn off. I tried saving you, but I just knew… I just knew you wouldn't make it.” 

As you stare into the distance, clearly bothered, Husk realizes just how much this scared you. When he first heard that all of this commotion was about a nightmare, he was surprised. You weren’t exactly one to get too emotional at the slightest of things, so this was new for you. But Husk realized why this was different. This nightmare was a very, very real possibility and a decently rational fear. There really was no telling what would happen come extermination day.

“How about this,” he says, placing one of his hands on your shoulder.

“Tonight, we forget about all of this. Extermination, angels, all of it. I’ll sleep in here and we can cuddle, you can talk to me or just fall asleep. We can sleep in as late as you want and just be here, in this room, right now. Just in this moment, you and I. How does that sound?” He asks.

This tenderness from Husk, though he is your boyfriend, was refreshing. He truly knew how to calm you down when you needed it most. 

Nodding your head, you both get under the warm covers of your bed. You rest your head on Husk’s chest, savoring the slow movements of his breaths. As he moves his hand to stroke your hair, you slowly start to fall into a deep and peaceful slumber. As you both basked in each other’s warmth, Husk’s soothing purring made its way into your ears, the music of your dreams. No amount of money in Hell could get you to gamble away the pure jackpot you held in your arms on this night.

[sunsetmade]

Taking Chances

Rafe Cameron x Pouge!Reader

Summary: The pouges take pleasure in locking Rafe away, all except for one.

She had felt bad for him. Why? She wasn’t really sure. Yes, he had done some… not-so-good things, but in her eyes, everyone deserved a second chance.

So, every time she saw him, instead of groaning or rolling her eyes like the other pouges, she would give him a soft smile. It was so subtle that she never thought he would even notice. But he did. Her kindness confused him, and sometimes angered him. Why was she so nice to him?

But over time, he grew fond of her soft nature, even though he’d never admit it. And any time he would insult the pouges and give them a hard time, she was always left out of the berating.

This dynamic between them, though, became more complicated as treasure kept getting discovered. She was out regularly searching for the treasure with the pouges, and he was out hunting them.

The hardest time was when they locked Rafe in the tiny closet on a boat they had stolen. His screams to be let out were loud and torturous. She closed her eyes, resting her head on her arm, hoping to drown him out.

“You okay?” Pope asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. She could tell he thought she was becoming seasick, which wasn’t entirely false. She looked up, giving him a weak smile, and nodded. His screams rang out again, and she couldn’t bear it any longer.

“I’m going to bring him some food,” she said quietly, hoping not to seem suspicious.

They nodded, and she grabbed some spare snacks, taking them down to the tiny closet. When she reached the door, she hesitated, his pleads to be let out having stopped. His heavy breaths could still be heard. She took a deep breath and opened the door.

His bloodshot eyes met hers, hard and guarded. She bit the inside of her lip. “I brought you some food,” she said, her voice softer than she intended.

Rafe’s gaze didn’t soften, but he didn’t look away either. He just watched her as she slowly placed the snacks in front of him. After a long silence, she sat down beside him, her body tensed, and eyes scanning his beaten-up clothes and exhausted face.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

Rafe’s eyes snapped to hers, confusion flickering in them. “Sorry?” he repeated, his voice hoarse, raw. “For what? For locking me in here?” His voice was rough, raw, his throat clearly sore from all the screaming. But his words weren’t directed at me—they were more like a challenge, testing the waters of whatever this... this strange connection was between us.

She flinched but didn’t look away. “For everything,” she said quietly. Rafe’s eyes flickered for a moment, the hard, defensive exterior cracking just a little as he saw the raw sincerity in mine. The silence stretched between us, the tension heavy and thick, like the air before a storm.

I wasn’t sure what I was doing there. I wasn’t even sure why I was apologizing to him, of all people. He didn’t deserve my sympathy—he was cruel, dangerous, and had made it clear more than once that he saw the world in black and white. But there was something in his eyes now, a vulnerability, that made my heart ache. Maybe he was always like this, underneath the arrogance and bravado, but no one ever bothered to see it.

I had learned a long time ago that Rafe’s anger wasn’t about me. It wasn’t about anyone, really. It was just the armor he wore to shield himself from the world. I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to steady my nerves.

“They just want to be careful. Assuming you’re going to trick us again.,” I said softly, but intending for him to listen. “I know that.” He responded. The words tasted bitter as they left my mouth, but it was the truth. The pouges didn’t trust him—hell, I wasn’t sure anyone did. But I also knew that Rafe wasn’t beyond redemption. I could see the flicker of something better in him, if he’d only let himself feel it. But he wouldn’t. Not yet at least.

Rafe turned his gaze toward me again, his eyes narrowing. “You’re not like them,” he muttered, almost to himself. His voice was so quiet, I almost didn’t hear it, but the weight of it lingered in the air. There was something fragile in his tone that caught me off guard.

I blinked, surprised by the admission. “What do you mean?”

He didn’t answer right away, and for a moment, I wondered if I had imagined it. But then he sighed, rubbing his face with his hands, a weary gesture that made him seem older than he was. “They think I’m the bad guy. They always have. But you—” He stopped, as if unsure how to finish the thought.

“I don’t think you’re the bad guy,” I said before I could stop myself, my voice soft but sure. The words felt too honest, too raw, but I couldn’t take them back now.

His gaze held mine for a beat, and something shifted in his expression. It was so fleeting, so quick, that if I hadn’t been watching him so closely, I might have missed it. But there it was. The smallest hint of vulnerability, the barest hint of hope.

“You’re crazy,” he whispered, but there was no malice behind the words. Only disbelief.

I let out a shaky breath, standing up slowly. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy. That somehow, I was walking a dangerous line between kindness and betrayal. But I couldn’t walk away now—not when I finally understood that Rafe Cameron was as broken as everyone else. Maybe more so.

“I’ll see you later,” I said, my voice quieter this time, unsure if I was speaking to him or to myself. He didn’t respond, but his eyes followed me as I turned to leave, his gaze lingering long after the door clicked shut behind me.

As I walked back to the others, my heart was heavy, my mind swirling with thoughts of Rafe. I wasn’t sure what I had done, or if anything would change. But for the first time, I wasn’t afraid of him. I wasn’t afraid to see what was underneath all the hate and anger.

And maybe, just maybe, I was starting to believe that he wasn’t beyond saving.

[dadvans]

Tommy keeping Buck away from his daughter for 10 years is so much more cruel than anything the show has ever done 😭

(part one) (part two)

Their first day together is going so well, until halfway through their hike Mary scales a two-story high downed redwood trunk like it’s nothing.

“Holy shit,” Buck says, as her head pops out between a gap in the exposed tangle of roots and calls down to Tommy to take her picture.

“I know,” Tommy says, smiling to himself, pulling his phone out of his pocket and raising it up. “She’s always been like this. Started climbing before she even knew how to walk.”

His words land like a bucket of ice. “Oh.”

“Nearly gave me a heart attack the first time I looked away for a second and when I turned back she was halfway up my old stereo and headed for the bookcase. She—“ he turns to look at Buck and Buck’s face must give it all away, like it always has, because it shuts Tommy up real quick and he stops smiling. “I’m sorry. Should I not—?”

“No, it’s okay,” Buck replies, swallows as he watches Mary climbing on the roots now. She’s going to get a splinter, he thinks dumbly. “That’s why you guys are here, right? So I can know her.”

The night Tommy told Buck about Mary he’d said he was sorry, but he got defensive real quick when Buck had accused him of hiding a daughter from him for ten years. Had said he was protecting them all from hating each other more in the long run, because he’d known Buck would have wanted to do the right thing, but that it wouldn’t have necessarily been a good thing. Didn’t deny it when Buck had asked, if he hadn’t seen the picture of a little girl on Tommy’s phone, even with the opportunity to come clean on his own, would Tommy have said anything at all? Sounded almost angry when Buck told him that it wasn’t Tommy’s choice to make for both of them and he’d replied, curtly, “Actually, it absolutely was.”

“Right,” Tommy says. When Buck looks at him now he looks more openly shame-faced, something soft and sad in his expression. Buck viciously hopes it’s him knowing now that he was wrong— he was wrong about everything.

“Daddy, watch! Daddy, Buck, watch!”

A tendril of grief works itself loose in Buck’s stomach as he looks up again to see her swinging above both of them.

He clears his throat. “So,” he says, “how old was she? When she first started climbing.”

[epinebleue]

i can fix him (no really i can) (m) (chibs telford) | 04

It was as if the pieces began to slide into place. He had pulled away from her the moment she had stepped back into Charming. Not in an obvious, cruel way, but in that subtle, almost imperceptible retreat of someone who had already decided he wasn’t allowed to want something.

pairing: filip “chibs” telford x eloise “ellie” teller (original female character)

genre: angst, fluff, mature.

content warnings: cursing, depiction of loss and family issues.

author's note: it's been a while! please tell me what you think of this, your feedback is always welcomed 🥰

tag list: @daphnen21 @undead-ahead-wh0re

chapter index | previous chapter | next chapter

Ellie’s phone vibrated, the ringtone so loud that the noise drowned the chirping of the birds that had nested in the tree outside her window.

With her face still buried in the pillow, she stretched out an arm to grab the device. Not even bothering to glance at the name on the screen, Ellie pressed the green button before pulling it to her ear.

“What?”

“Damn, not even a good morning?” A feminine voice said through the speaker. “California’s rudeness has rubbed off on you this soon?”

“I’m sorry, Maya.” Ellie turned to lie on her back, unable to open her eyes. “I got to the hotel pretty late. It’s seven in the morning over here.”

“Yeah, I figured. But I couldn’t wait any longer, I wanted to know how it went.”

Ellie’s mind regressed to the night before. Immediately, her heart sank.

“Should there be more?”

Chibs held her gaze for a moment, the weight of her words sinking in. His heart tightened, but he quickly shook his head, his cigarette dangling loosely from his fingers as he took another drag. He let the smoke settle in his lungs, then blew it out. It dissolved in the cool evening air.

Six years. Six fucking years. And yet, here they were, just as tangled as before.

“Maybe you should ask yourself that.”

Ellie didn’t answer, her eyes fixed in the darkening horizon. But he saw her clench her jaw.

Upon her silence, Chibs resumed:

“I’ve seen you grow, Ellie.” He began, turning Ellie’s stomach. Why did he have to say it like that, as if explaining it to a small child? Would he always see her like that? “I could never see further than that.”

God, she wanted to scream and kick the floor. Six years away and she still hadn’t learned to not make a fool of herself in front of him. It was pathetic, really.

Ellie’s eyes flicked to him, sharp and defensive.

“It’s fine, Filip.” She said, quietly. A small fake smile splattered on her face. “I did something stupid at a time when I was vulnerable. You did what you had to do.”

The girl turned her back to him then. She threw the remains of her cigarette to the concrete and stepped on it to extinguish it.

“I came back because my brother needs me, because my nephew needs me. That’s all I’m on.” She let the words fall from her lips like a shield, even though they didn’t feel like the truth. “You don’t have to worry about me or my feelings anymore. I can handle myself. I’m a grown woman.”

“Well, it was… expected.”

Silence took over the call for a moment.

“I’m sorry, Ellie.” The girl opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling above her. “Are you okay?”

“I am. I just…” Ellie stopped herself. “I knew exactly how my mom would react, and yet she disappointed me, you know?”

“It makes perfect sense, actually.” Maya said, and Ellie couldn’t see her, but she knew she was nodding her head. “You were hoping for something different, something better. I think everyone has someone they know will let them down, but they keep holding out hope that, one time, it will be different. And when that hope gets crushed, they feel like they were the ones who were wrong for expecting more. It’s okay to be disappointed, Ellie. Fuck, I’d be, too. But sometimes people can’t give you what you need, even when they’re supposed to. Wanting it doesn’t make you weak or foolish.”

Ellie, who had sat with her back against the headboard, grabbed her best friend’s words and took them close to her heart. They were warm, comforting. She held onto them.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“You have, but it’s always nice to hear it.” Maya let out a giggle. “I just want you to be okay. Will you be okay?”

Ellie’s eyes drifted to the window, the sunlight barely creeping through the curtains. for a moment, she allowed herself to feel the weight of everything: the confusion, the pain, the disappointment. She wasn’t in her childhood home, forced to hide her emotions. Right there, in a little room of a hotel in her hometown, she found a fleeting shelter.

A small breath escaped her lips as she smiled.

“What are you talking about? I will.” She answered, her voice a little steadier. “I’m a tough kid.”

“Is it weird that I’m nervous?”

Jax’s soft laugh filled the elevator.

“What for?”

“Maybe nervous isn’t the correct word. Excited? I’m literally shaking, look.”

Ellie stretched her arm and held it in the air so that Jackson could see her wobbling hand.

The elevator dinged as they reached the sixth floor, where the neonatal unit could be found. Ellie followed Jax through the white, brightly-lit corridors, the sterile smell sticking to her nostrils.

They turned a corner and walked to the end of the hallway. Past a viewing panel, Jax opened a door and stepped aside, allowing Ellie to step into the room first.

There, inside an incubator, a newborn seemed to be peacefully sleeping. Ellie went mute as she left her purse in a chair by the door, walking forward until she was in front of the incubator. Her first instinct was to touch him, but her plan found the cold wall of the machine. She didn’t care.

Ellie couldn’t utter a word, too overwhelmed by emotions. Her brother, a person she had known forever, had made a baby. How crazy was that?

As if sensing movement outside, Abel shifted slightly.

“Doctor says he’s doing great.” Jax said, reading his little sister’s expressions. “In spite of it all, he’s going to be okay.”

Ellie just couldn’t take her eyes from Abel. Never would she have thought something so small could hold such strength.

“Hi, Abel.” She whispered, finally finding her voice. “You’re so beautiful.”

Her voice cracked, and so she went mute again. She blinks quickly, trying to get rid of the tears that had gathered in her eyes. But Jax was family, after all, and knew how to read her. He took a step forward and stood beside her, his palm finding her back to caress it.

“You can cry, Ellie.” He said, softly. “He’s worth crying over.”

Ellie looked up to his brother, her lips pressed into a smile. Jax was right: he absolutely was.

“Hi, baby. I’m your aunt, I’m Aunt Eloise.” Once again, Abel shifted in the crib as if he could hear what she was saying. “I’m going to buy you so many toys, and so much candy.”

Ellie had sacrificed a lot of things the moment she decided to leave Charming. First and foremost, her family. She had always known it wasn’t the best, but it was hers.

She had missed out on being there as Opie and Donna’s kids grew up, watching Jax turn into the man he was today.

The plan had been clear from the start: staying in Charming for at least two months, knowing Jax would need all the help he could get with Abel.

And now that she had seen Abel, she didn’t want to see anything else.

She couldn’t help but wonder if she would be able to pack her stuff as easily as she had thought. How could she leave him? How could she walk away from his little life, one she wanted so desperately to be a part of?

Just the thought of missing out on watching him grow up tore her heart apart.

But millions of people lived far away from home, right? She could still visit on Christmas and birthdays. She could still call him every day.

It had been enough once. Why didn’t it feel enough now?

As Ellie stood in front of Abel’s incubator, the weight of her conflicting emotions felt almost unbearable. She wanted to stay, to be there for Jax, for Abel, but the reality of it all, the life she had left behind in Charming, the life she’d tried to escape, pushed her away with immense force.

She turned her head slightly to glance at Jax, who had been quietly watching her process the moment. He seemed to be deep in thought too, standing a few steps back, giving her space.

The quiet hum of the hospital seemed to deepen, and before Ellie could say anything more, Jax’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, glancing at the screen before he answered it.

Ellie didn’t want to listen to his conversation, but the quiet buzz of his voice filled the room as he stepped back toward the door, glancing at her before walking out into the hallway. She followed him, not wanting to leave Abel but knowing she had to, feeling as if there was an unspoken understanding between the two of them that this wasn’t the end.

Jax’s voice softened as he spoke, stepping further away to take the call in private, though Ellie could still hear snippets of his conversation. He was probably speaking with someone from the club, a member or someone who needed something.

Ellie quietly stepped into the hallway, hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket, her mind still focused on Abel. She needed a minute to process everything, to figure out how to handle the pull between her past and the life she wanted for herself.

As she turned down the corridor, she noticed a familiar face approaching. She blinked, her heart skipping a beat as the last person she expected to see emerged from the hallway.

Tara Knowles, looking as composed and as put-together as always, was walking toward her, a light frown on her face as she glanced at Ellie. It only took a second for both of them to recognize each other. Tara’s eyes widened in recognition, followed by a surprised, almost disbelieving expression.

“Ellie?” Tara asked, softly, with a mixture of surprise and something else. Curiosity? Concern? Ellie couldn't tell.

Ellie’s heart fluttered. She hadn’t seen Tara in years, not since the day she’d left Charming. Their relationship had never been bad, but she had seen how Tara’s departure had broken Jax’s heart.

It was difficult to be objective in times like those.

The youngest Teller smiled faintly, feeling awkward but trying to make the best of it.

“Hi, Tara.” She said, offering a nod of acknowledgment. “It’s been a while.”

Tara blinked, still processing the fact that Ellie was in front of her.

“A while?” Her lips curled into a faint but genuine smile. “It’s been six years.”

Ellie felt her chest tighten slightly at the mention of the time that had passed. Six years. The distance, the years apart, the mistakes. So much had changed since then…

“Yeah.” Ellie agreed, shrugging her shoulders a little. “Six years… Seems like a lifetime, huh?”

Tara nodded slowly. The two women shared a brief silence. There was an undeniable distance between them, a gap that only time could create. Finally, Tara spoke again.

“I didn’t expect to run into you here. I thought you’d still be…  away.”

Ellie’s gaze dropped for a moment, but she met Tara’s eyes again. “Yeah. I… I came back for a little while. For Jax. For the baby.”

Tara’s expression softened at the mention of Abel.

“I get it.” She said, her voice quieter. She took a step closer, her gaze lingering on Ellie. “How’s everything going?”

Ellie felt a wave of tension rise in her chest. It wasn’t like things had been easy between her and the family when she left.

“It’s… complicated. But I’m here now.” Ellie said softly, glancing over at Jax, who was still on the phone, his back to them.

Tara’s gaze followed Ellie’s, her eyes flicking toward Jax before she turned back.

“I’m glad you’re here.” She said, a small but genuine smile on her lips. “We should meet up and catch up.”

Ellie hesitated, but there was something kind in Tara’s offer, and for the first time in a while, Ellie found herself wanting to bridge the gap.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Ellie said, nodding. “We should grab coffee sometime.”

Tara’s smile widened, her posture relaxing just a little. “It’s a date then. I’ll text you.”

Ellie felt a tiny weight lift off her shoulders as Tara gave her a small wave and turned to walk away, her movements graceful, professional. That was a woman comfortable in her skin.

As Ellie watched her go, she couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, a little less burdened by the awkwardness of the past. Maybe it was possible to reconnect after all.

Jax finally ended his call and came over to her side.

“Everything okay?” He asked, his voice soft.

Ellie nodded, her smile returning. “Yeah. Just… talking to Tara.”

Jax raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a grin.

“That’s a surprise.” He looked back down the hall where Tara had disappeared, and then back at Ellie. “Well, look at you. Making friends already.”

Ellie’s gaze shifted back to Abel’s room, her heart still full of emotions she couldn’t quite explain.

“Well, it’s never too late.”

“Aren’t you guys supposed to, you know… be good at this?”  

Juice sighed, his hands wrapped loosely around the shotgun, eyes fixed on the game counter. He slumped forward, trying to mask his irritation, but failing miserably. Then, he glanced at Ellie with a hint of defensiveness.

“I underperform under pressure, okay?”

The girl raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a playful smirk.

“I bet you do.”  

The sound of Bobby and Tig’s laugh echoed around them, low and scandalous. Juice shot them both a glare before turning back to Ellie, now visibly annoyed. Without a word, he passed her the shotgun, his fingers brushing hers.

“Why don’t you try, princess?”  

Slightly taken aback by his challenging tone, Ellie took the shotgun, her fingers expertly finding the trigger.

“Are you sure you want to turn this into a competition?”

Juice smirked, as if delighted by her question.

“Chickening out already?”

Ellie straightened her back and strode to the stand confidently. Juice stayed behind, his arms crossed. Ellie found it funny how one simple comment had been enough to ignite his fury.

Men were always so goddamn protective of their ego.

“You’re on.” Ellie shot him a look over her shoulder as she settled into position. “I’ll beat your ass and win the giant elephant.”

As she lifted the shotgun to her shoulder, the group fell silent, the tension palpable. She adjusted her stance with precision, like she’d been doing this her whole life. Juice, on the other hand, fidgeted nervously, rubbing his temples.

Then, with a sharp crack, the first duck went down. Ellie didn’t even flinch.  

Juice could simply stare.

“Shit.” He whispered.

Growing up, Ellie couldn’t stand watching Gemma and Clay kiss in front of her. She would usually turn to Jax with the biggest face of disgust and laugh when he silently gagged, pretending to throw up.

Carrying her huge purple elephant, she walked behind her mother and her husband. They behaved like two horny teeangers, and it made her stomach turn. Jax’s arm falling on her shoulders pulled her out of her head.

Ellie glanced up at her older brother, his familiar presence grounding her in the moment. Jax’s mischievous smile softened when he saw the way her eyes lingered on their mother and Clay.

“Do you think Mom ever loved Dad like that?” She asked, the question slipping out before she could stop it.

Jax remained quiet for a beat, his gaze shifting from Gemma and Clay back to Ellie. It was as though he was searching for an answer in them, or maybe he was just buying time to avoid a topic he didn’t know how to address with his little sister.

“I don’t know.” He finally muttered. “Maybe? At least I hope so.”

Ellie’s heart twisted. If she loved him that much, how could she cheat on him? She glanced at their mother, now laughing as Clay whispered something in her ear. How could love feel so tangled? It seemed like it wasn’t just messy, it was shattered. How could they all be caught up in something so complicated, so unpredictable?

“Hey, you okay?” Jax asked, nudging her gently.

Ellie gave a small, tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, just thinking.”

Jax chuckled, a soft sound of understanding. “Maybe it’s better not to think too much about it. Trust me, it doesn’t help.”

Ellie laughed, but it was bittersweet. Her shoulders relaxed a little, though the knot in her chest remained. Maybe Jax was right. Maybe it was better to let it go for now. But something told her, deep down, that she’d have to figure it out eventually.

The sounds of the carnival filled the air as Ellie, Jax, and the others walked through the crowd. The lights of the Ferris wheel flickered overhead, and the scent of popcorn and candy floss drifted through the air. Ellie felt her mind wandering, caught between the present and memories of the past, when a familiar voice pulled her back to reality.

“Ellie?”

She froze. It was the voice of someone she hadn’t heard in years. Turning around, she found herself staring at none other than Tristen Oswald, the girl she used to babysit. Tristen looked completely different. Older, of course, but there was still that same energy and warmth in her smile.

“Tristen?” Ellie asked, her heart giving a small leap.

Tristen’s face lit up as she rushed forward, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Oh my god, it’s really you!”

She threw her arms around Ellie in an enthusiastic hug, making Ellie laugh.

“I didn’t even recognize you at first!” Ellie said, pulling back slightly but still keeping her hands on Tristen’s shoulders, taking in the sight of the young girl in front of her. “You’ve grown up so much.”

Tristen glanced over her shoulder at her parents, who were standing a little further back.

“I was just talking to my mom about you. She always said you were the best babysitter we ever had.”

“I remember those days.” Ellie couldn’t help but smile. “You were such a little handful back then.”

“And you still survived!” Tristen’s laughter rang out. She shifted her stance, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “You should totally come with me on the Ferris wheel. Please? It’ll be just like old times. I swear I’m still scared of the heights, so you can totally protect me.”

Before Ellie could answer, Tristen’s parents stepped forward.

“Ellie?” A warm, familiar voice called out. Ellie turned to see Karen and Elliot approaching, both looking as polished as she remembered. Karen gave her a welcoming smile, her eyes twinkling with genuine fondness. “Well, well, look at you. It’s been so long.”

Ellie smiled back, a bit surprised but pleased to see them.

“It’s been a while.” She said. “How have you two been?”

“We’ve been good.” Karen replied smoothly. She paused, glancing over at Jax and the others, who had fallen a bit behind. “And you’re looking well. I hope things have been treating you kindly since you came back.”

Ellie gave a small, stiff smile.

“I’m doing okay, yeah.”

Elliot, who had always been a bit more reserved, nodded in agreement. “Good to see you back in Charming. It’s been… long.”

Jax, noticing the tension in the air as Karen and Elliot exchanged polite words with Ellie, stepped forward, flashing a tight smile at Tristen’s parents.

“Hey.” Jax greeted them, his tone casual but respectful. He gave them both a quick nod before turning back to Ellie. “What’s the verdict? Are you going up on the Ferris wheel with Tristen?”

Ellie glanced at Tristen, who was still looking at her with wide eyes.

“I think so.” She said, offering a playful grin. “Besides, it’s been ages since I’ve been on a ride like that.”

Tristen’s smile widened as she gave Ellie an excited thumbs-up.

“I’ll save you a seat!” 

She said, turning toward the entrance of the ride, practically bouncing on her heels.

Before Ellie could follow, Karen leaned in, her tone becoming a little more sharp. 

“Don’t let her drag you into too much trouble, Ellie.” She said quietly, though there was a kind smile on her face.

Ellie nodded, sensing the underlying tension. Karen had always been nice to her, but six years had passed. None of them were who they were then, and Karen seemed to be unsure of where Ellie stood now.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on her.”

Karen seemed to soften, her smile warmer.

As Ellie walked toward the Ferris wheel, where Tristen was waiting, everything started to feel strange, bittersweet. Tristen turned, waving eagerly for her to join her in the line.

Some things never change, she thought. Especially not in Charming.

Ellie glanced around as she waited for the beer. The fair was flooded with families munching on stale popcorn and rancid hot dogs, lovers holding hands in the stands, and parents chasing after toddlers. The sunset cast a golden hue over everything, making it look like a postcard. She pulled out her phone and snapped a picture to send Maya.

In the distance, she spotted a familiar figure. Ellie grabbed the beer and made her way toward him.

Juice was sitting on a bench, alone, his expression slightly tense, his eyes scanning the crowd. When he saw her approach, he gave her a short nod but didn’t smile.

“Where’s the elephant?” Juice asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Ellie slid onto the bench opposite him, adjusting her white sundress and taking a breath before answering.

“I gave it to Tristen.” She pushed a strand of hair out of her face, meeting his gaze. “Something tells me she’ll appreciate it more than I ever will. Her mom didn’t look that happy, though.”

Juice leaned back a little, a small frown tugging at his lips.

“You gave away your prize? Guess you’re not a monster after all, huh?”

Ellie chuckled, shaking her head slightly. “I told you I wasn’t that bad, but you never listen.”

The girl took a sip of her beer, watching the crowd as she did. A child darted away from his mother, who chased him, laughing. The sound made her smile, just a little.

After a moment, Juice asked the question he had been dying to make, his voice genuine.

“Where did you learn to shoot like that?”

Ellie sighed, looking out at the fairgrounds as she gathered her thoughts. The noise around her seemed to fade as she remembered.

“Well, my mom and I didn’t exactly get along. Shocking, right?” She paused, and Juice noticed the slight shift in her expression. She swallowed the lump in her throat before continuing. “She wasn’t into... you know, doing fun, girly stuff with me. So, my dad picked up the slack. He taught me all the ‘manly’ stuff he could.”

Juice took a swig from his bottle, studying her. The flickering lights of the fair seemed far away as she spoke.

“That sounds like a hell of a dad.” He said, softly, picking up on the sadness that had crept into her voice.

Ellie stared at her beer bottle for a second, letting the bitterness of it take over.

“What about you?” She asked then, shifting the focus. “What’s your scar?”

Juice hesitated, his eyes wandering to the ground before meeting hers. He leaned forward slightly, contemplating his answer.

“I came from a single-parent household.” He began, voice quieter than before. “Dad left when I was a kid, and my mom worked all the time. Had to figure a lot of stuff out on my own.”

Ellie could feel the weight of his words, recognizing the loneliness in them. She tilted her head slightly, her voice softening.

“My brother told me you’re a hacker.” She said, her tone light but genuinely interested. “So you must be a smart guy. How does someone like that end up tangled in this mess of a club?”

Juice didn’t hesitate to answer this time.

“I guess... I just never really felt at home anywhere. But with this club... I’m finally where I belong. Even if it’s messy. Have you ever heard of ‘found family’? That’s what it feels like. I don’t know what would’ve become of me if I hadn’t found them.”

Ellie’s heart tightened at his words. She often forgot that the club was a place for outcasts, a place that offered protection, stability and, most of all, support. But she also couldn’t shake the feeling that the world they were in was something she could never fully understand.

“Glad to know it feels like family for someone here.” Ellie said, lifting her bottle and clinking it gently against his. "Cheers to that."

Juice met her gaze, his eyes softening just a little. “Cheers.”

Chibs walked through the fair, his boots crunching on the gravel. He’d needed some air, some time to clear his head. The past few days had been too damn much: too many club politics, too many problems to solve. But as he passed the food stalls, the sounds of children laughing and the smell of greasy food, his thoughts kept drifting back to Ellie. Ellie and that conversation they had had the day she arrived.

He hadn’t meant to be cold towards her, but what else could he do? He couldn’t keep thinking about her like that, but she had a way of sneaking into his mind when he least expected it. He tried to shake it off, focusing instead on the bustle of the fair. He didn't have time to think about her.

But then, through the crowd, he saw them.

Ellie and Juice were sitting together on a bench, sharing a laugh. Ellie looked so at ease, so carefree. And Juice? He was leaning in a bit too close for Chibs’ liking, laughing a little too loud.

Fucking hell.

Chibs stopped in his tracks, his chest tightening. His mind immediately told him to look away, but his eyes were locked on the pair. He didn’t want to feel this way. He couldn’t afford to.

He took a step back, trying to retreat without being noticed. There was no reason to let this scene get to him. But damn it, the sight of Ellie looking so comfortable with Juice twisted something in his gut.

His fingers tightened around the bottle he’d been holding, almost as if trying to crush the jealousy that had risen up in him. Juice was a good guy. Hell, he could understand why Ellie would gravitate toward him. He was smart, charming, and, more importantly, not twenty years older than she was. Chibs wasn’t the kind of guy who could give Ellie what she needed, or deserved.

Well, not that he cared anyway, right?

Still, the image of them together lingered in his mind. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to look away.

But the pain wouldn’t go away so easily.

Chibs walked toward the food stand where Tig and Bobby were, trying to focus on anything other than what he’d just seen. His brain was working overtime, trying to convince him it wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t like he had any right to be upset, right?

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thoughts. But the more he tried to push it down, the more it fought to escape. He didn’t have feelings for her. No, that wasn’t possible. He couldn’t afford to have feelings for anyone. Especially not Ellie. She was too close, too involved with the club.

He couldn’t risk making things complicated.

No reposting or translations allowed.

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