#th: shift change conversations

[majkemaniiia]

"So I'm not saying that you're off today," Magica says, as she hands over the till to Mim, their shift change underway, "but I will say you've been off for weeks."

This is the part where Magica goes home, isn't it? Nope. Not happening. She and Mim have been dodging each other on shifts or are busy on shifts and that's not exactly the right time to talk about whatever big, personal things Mim is going through. No need to air that out to customers.

However. The store was empty + Mim on Shift = Perfect opportunity!

"So, as your friend and store aunt, I am here to offer an ear. And chocolates, if you want some. Because I bought more as an offering. Or a bribe. Whichever suits you best."

@madmagicmim

Shift Change Conversations || Fuchsia

[lowkeyerror]

Ours Together pt 2

Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Notes: Graphic depictions of violence, could be described as slight gore, more hurt/comfort, fluff, hopeful ending (i think), protective Rio and Agatha

Summary: With the three of you on the same page, walking the road should've been a cake walk. However things take a turn, when you end up with your own trial.

An: Yall asked for a part 2 so you know I had to deliver 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Part 1 | Part 3 | Masterlist

Waking up in between Rio and Agatha brought a small smile to your face. It’s a luxury that you thought was long forgotten. You were careful to rise without waking them. Your back cracked as you stretched, the ground of the road was not comfortable in the slightest.

“So you’re a familiar?” Lilia speaks, staring cautiously.

The way your eyes cut over to her is soft. It’s softer than you want it to be. You look at the ground and then the sky, deciding not to look at the witch.

“Yep,” a rough sigh comes out with the simple word.

“It typical that familiars have a second form. A pet or a-"

“Do they look like pet owners to you?”

The others begin to stir, before the conversation can go any further. You’re grateful for the interruption. You were not here to dig in to your past. Well, not any more than reigniting your relationship with Rio and Agatha.

“Look alive, witches. Let’s get this show on the road,” Agatha yawns as the words leave her mouth.

Though you’d rather do anything else, you prepare yourself for the journey.

“What’s wrong?” Rio falls into step with you as you begin to walk the road.

“I still don't want to be here,” you admit kicking some of the dirt up with your heel.

Rio takes your hand in hers, “We can leave whenever you want.”

You dismiss the thought with exasperation, “I’m not abandoning Agatha.”

Rio squeezes your hand, “I don’t want to leave her either, but I don’t want you to be burdened by whatever this is.”

“Woah,” Alice’s voice, makes you look away from Rio.

The other witches also stop, most with their mouths agape. The sight before them unfathomable. This was drastic change from the other trial they had come in contact with.

Instead of a house, there was large mansion. The building was purely white with gold accents. The pillars that stood on each side of the building seemed to go all the way.

The color leaves your face staring at the building. You drop to the ground and begin to scramble away from the building. You shake your head vigorously. Your eyes wide in horror, you try to find the breath in your lungs but you struggle.

“No, no, no, no,” you begin to mutter under your breath.

Agatha and Rio are by your side at a moments notice. Agatha’s hands rest on your face and you can feel Rio’s arm wrap around you.

“Breathe baby,” Rio whispers in your ear.

You search Agatha’s face frantically, “Agatha, I can’t… I can’t. I’m not even a witch, I’m not in the coven. Why?”

“It’s not real, sweetheart. We know it’s not real,” she whispers for only you and Rio to hear.

You close your eyes and begin nodding your head. You swallow hard, trying to focus on the feelings of their hands on you.

“I’m guessing this is her trial,” Jen says, breaking the moment between the three of you.

Agatha glares at the witch, “She’s not going in there.”

Teen interrupts, “I don’t think that’s how the road works.”

The scowl on her face only deepens, “Then make it work Teen. She’s not a witch, she’s not in the coven, she shouldn’t have a trial.”

Alice interferes, “Is it possible it’s not her trial? The three of you are close.. could it be Rio’s or Agatha’s.”

“It would be mine, if not hers,” Rio offers up.

Lilia interrupts, “We have to go into this trial.”

“NO!” Your voice didn’t boom when you yelled, instead it cracked in desperation.

The conversation dies there, but not because of your outburst. You feel the energy shift all around you.

“The seven are coming,” Agatha mumbles under her breath.

“Nope,” Jen immediately turns to run into the building.

Lilia goes in after Jen. Alice and Teen hesitate, but they follow the other two women forward.

You can hear the seven getting closer.

“My love, we must move forward,” Agatha tries to hide her panic, but you see through it.

“We will protect you,” Rio helps you to your feet.

You look behind you, the seven quickly approaching. You look at the building once more, before rushing ahead inside.

Agatha looks at Rio, “Take her out if things get too much.”

Rio shakes her head, “We do not know the repercussions of leaving in the middle of a trial.”

“We both know what happens in there Rio. I can’t bare to see it.”

Rio grabs Agatha’s hand as they rush towards the building together, “She is stronger than we give her credit for.”

As they enter the building a bright light almost blinds them. They see the coven members dressed in all white. Most of them having full halos. Agatha looks similar. Rio however is dawning an all black hooded cloak. If it weren’t for your distress, she would’ve laughed.

The clothes felt wrong against your skin. There wasn’t much around. The walls were painted with clouds. The only other thing in the mansion was staircase in the middle of the room. It looked like it led nowhere, but you knew better.

“Where’s the trial? Do we just get to leave?” Teen says focusing on the stairs.

You try to keep your breathing normal, “Just give me a minute. I know what we have to do.”

“What is this place?” Alice looks around.

Lilia’s eyes sparkle, “I think this is Heaven.”

The coven turns their attention to you.

“Are you-”

Agatha interferes, “We’re already in the trial, save your questions to the end.”

Rio adds on, “Or better yet, don't ask any questions.”

“Let’s get this over with,” you wipe your hands on the white pants.

You stand at the bottom of the stairs. Agatha stand on the left and Rio on your right. The link their arms through yours.

“Up we go,” Agatha directs the coven.

When you get to the top, you can see an abyss waiting for you at the bottom. You can’t see the bottom, and you know what you have to do.

“It’s easier if you don’t look,” you turn your back to the abyss.

“Are you seriously just going to-”

Before Jen finishes her question you are leaning back first into the abyss. Your lovers at your side trusting you completely. The rest of the coven is hesitant, but they eventually all jump into the hole.

It's like you’re being pulled down. It feels like it’s never going to stop. When it does, it’s abrupt. You’re expecting flames and heat, but instead there’s only dirt around you.

The space is shaped like a cylinder. There’s a gracious amount of space. The floors and walls were both constructed of dirt. You looked at the ceiling and it too seemed to be dirt. It was like you all were buried alive.

“Take me back upstairs,” Lilia says looking around the dark and dirt filled hole.

“So, Y/n what now?” They turn to you, looking for guidance.

You use your hands to dig into the ground. You pull out a scroll.

“How did you-”

“Where else would it have been?” You snap at the Teen.

Rio peers over your shoulder, “Fly free with your clipped wings or submit to the sin of the earth.”

The dirt begins to rise as Rio finishes reading the paper. You look up again, this time being able to catch a glimpse of the white room where you had come from.

“Taking us down, to go right back up. How clever,” Agatha says.

“So is now the time we ask the questions?”

“Stand back,” you ignore the question, hoping to get this over with quickly.

The group listens to you. With much discomfort you pushed out the muscles on your back. There were a few loud pops and cracks. You bit your tongue to mask the pain. Your wings popped out and everyone in the room gawked.

“They’re-”

“White?” Rio says with confusion.

You wrapped them around your body, surprised to see white wings sprouting from your back.

“Questions later, fly up,” Agatha says and you do as she instructs.

You begin to flap your wings, dirt flying about in the space. You shoot up to the exit in less than 5 seconds. Instead of freedom you find yourself smacking hard against a piece of glass. You pound on it, hoping to break it.

“I can’t break it,” you call back down.

“Then we’re missing something,” Jen calls out.

The dirt begins to rise in the room at a faster pace.

“Start digging, maybe we’ll find something else,” Teen starts digging, the rest follows.

“Shit,” you hear Agatha cry out.

You decide to fly back down. You land close to her. “What is it?”

She pulls a pair of scissors out of the ground. Her palm bleeding from the cut on her hands.

You scramble back again.

“Didn’t it say something about clipped wings?” Alice recalls.

“That’s why they’re white,” Agatha connects the dots.

“Fuck no,” Rio stands in front of you. “I’m not letting you clip her wings.”

“We’re going to die,” Teen argues with the Death.

Agatha shares a look with Rio, “Get her out of here.”

You shake your head, “No, I’m not leaving you here. Give me the scissors.”

“Y/n, you don’t have to do this,” Rio tries to reason with you.

“Just heal the wounds when it’s over,” you say to her softly.

Agatha still has the scissors in hand, “I won’t let you.”

You get close to her. Your hand reaching for the scissors as you lean in. You can see her squeezing them firmly in her grip, deepening the cut in her hand.

“It’s not real,” you whisper to her just like she had done with you outside.

Her grip loosens just enough for you to pull the scissors from her hand. The dirt is piled at the mid thigh level now.

You once again fold your wings over your body. You turn your head to get a good look at your back. Your eyes follow the seam of where your back is lined with your wings.

Your hand shakes as you open the scissors, opting to use them like a letter opener. The nerves are piling up inside you. Your eyes close and you get a glimpse of your past. You see yourself kneeled over in pain with your back covered in blood.

“We’re running out of time,” Lilia says, as the dirt begins to climb higher.

You scream as you cut off your wing in one swift motion. The pain makes you want to fall to your knees , but its impossible with the dirt surrounding you. Tears fall rapidly as blood pours from your back. Snot drips from your nose as you sob at the pain.

You’re in too much pain to notice, but the dirt begins to rise at a slower pace. No one is happy, or joyful as they look at you in agony.

“Fuck,” you mutter as your body shakes violently at the pain.

The scissors had slipped from your hand at the sheer force you made the cut with.

“Rio,” it comes out of your mouth through gritted teeth. She’s close to you, and you know she carries a blade. “I- you have to do the other one.”

Rio’s eyes widen, “ I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Please, my love. I- I can’t die like this. Please, I just got you back, please.”

Your pleading breaks Rio’s heart. This didn’t feel fake, it was real. The wound pouring from your back, the tears in your eyes. The panicked look in Agatha’s face as she watched this unfold. The suffering felt real.

Rio pulls her dagger out, wading through the sand to get right behind you. It was hard, with the sand covering most of her torso. The sand burned as it pressed into your open wound.

Rio’s hard was cool and soft as it touched the bottom of your wing. She felt through the sand to find the seam of the wings. Once she found it she took a deep breath.

“Forgive me, my love,” her cut was much more swift than yours.

You fell forward as the yelled ripped through you throat. It burned your esophagus. You folded forward, Rio’s arms try to hold you from underneath your stomach, not wishing to touch your back.

The wings lay in the dirt beside you. The dirt that had covered everyone started to sink down back into the ground. Once it was all gone, one side of the wall began to open up. Stairs appeared, indicating the trial was over.

Rio is quick to carry you out of the trial and back on to the road. She hopes that bringing you back to the road will erase the injuries. However as she feels the blood coating her clothes, she knows they are here to stay.

She lays you on your stomach and you groan. She straddles the back of your legs. The weight of her is lost on you, all you can feel is the burning from where your wings were supposed to be. You squirm under her when her tongue connects with your back.

She licks the brutal cuts on your back, the taste of your blood clouds her thoughts, but she doesn’t dwell on it. Her own tears gather as she waits for the wounds to heal.

Agatha rushes to her side, “Is she going to be ok?”

Rio holds her breath, but as she sees the wounds slowly closing she nods, “She’s going to be ok.”

Agatha pulls Rio into a chaste kiss, “Are you ok?”

Rio’s forehead rest against Agatha’s, “No, I’m not.”

The rest of the coven watches the scene unfold with intrigue.

“So your familiar is an angel?” Teen can’t help, but ask.

You whine under Rio as you feel a new pain simmer in your back.

“Off,” you mutter, and Rio gets off of you.

You stay laying as you feel a well-known ache spread through your body. You dig your palms into the ground and let out a huff of irritation. In the spots that Rio had just healed, a set of wings popped out.

This time, they were black like tar. It hurt just as much as before. You prop yourself on your knee before standing to your full height. Just like when your voice had echoed, your eyes were purely black.

“I was an angel,” your voice vibrates through the road.

“What happened?” Jen asks, mesmerized by your wings.

Agatha and Rio are seconds away from forbidding the coven from asking questions. You use your wings to bring them into your sides.

“I fell in love. The higher ups, said it was… impure. Which was a falsehood; there had been nothing in my life or after that was as pure as this love. They wanted to have me banished to hell. I was ungrateful, wasting my eternal happiness by fraternizing with… Rio.”

“Why not Agatha?” Alice questions.

You look at Rio, who gives you a nod, “They didn't like my relationship with Agatha much either, if I’m being honest. Rio was different, forbidden because she is Lady Death.”

The coven members all look to Rio, their eyes wide in shock. Rio simply waves her up, wiggling her fingers in response, “Guilty.”

Lilia speaks next, “But if you’re her familiar, why would your relationship be an issue?”

“I wasn’t her familiar then,” you explain. “I became Agatha’s and Rio’s familiar because Rio interfered during my banishment ceremony. These ceremonies were somewhat of a public shaming. My wings had been forcefully yanked out of my back. Brute strength just ripped them right out of my back. They were in the middle of speaking when she appeared. I’ve never seen her so furious, yelling at Life and God and the other angels. She made an offer for my soul.”

Rio clicks her tongue a few times, “No, no I made a threat. They were going to give me your soul or I would take every soul that passed to hell. There would’ve been no more angels. A demon uprising would've been imminent. They didn't really have a choice.”

“Wait, I know this story. An angel who was swayed by darkness due for banishment, but saved by Death itself. You’re the first fallen angel,” Teen speaks enthusiastically.

You chuckle, “Not exactly the first, there’s one before me, but I am the first with this look. The black wings, dark eyes, echoing voice.”

“So what happened after you threatened them?” Jen is extremely invested.

“She took me to Agatha. I was powerless without my wings. They were trying to figure out what to do. When Rio went to heal the wounds they left on me, we didn't expect new wings to sprout, but they did. The power was different, stronger. They helped me navigate it.”

“It took us some time to realize what the agreement meant for her. They did not believe in our relationship, which is why they made her our familiar. It was a punishment,” Agatha adds some more context.

“How is that a punishment?” Teen’s confusion shines through.

“It burns to be away from them. Literally boils my insides,” your wings fold back into your back.

“Ok, kids, question time is over. We’re setting up camp for the night,” Agatha claps her hands together.

You can see them want to protest, but an eyebrow raise from Rio quiets them all. They begin to set up a camp similar to the night before.

“Come with us,” Rio tugs at your arm.

You follow her and Agatha away from the rest of the coven.

When you feel like you’re far enough from the rest. Your shoulders slump and your body trembles, getting the last of the aches out.

The two witches stop both worried for you.

“I’m fine,” you say softly.

Agatha can’t help but pull you into her, “You’re not, neither of you are. I think it’s time you left the road.”

Your head rests on her shoulder. Your lips press a gentle kiss against her neck, “I don't want to spend any time apart. Especially now.”

Rio is careful as she presses her front against your back, wrapping her arms around you. You grab her arms pulling her flush against you. The warmth of the two women, soothes the aches in your body.

“Baby,” Rio tries.

“Just hold me for a few minutes, please,” you beg the both of them.

The both tighten their grip.

“We’re not going anywhere sweetheart,” Agatha kisses the top of your head.

“Not ever,” Rio doubles down.

You breathe them in. Finding comfort in their presence. Agatha’s hand find a place in your hair, rubbing the tension away. You lay your hands over Rio’s keeping them against your skin.

“Aggie what do you need from this place?” You whisper against her skin.

“My purple.”

You raise your head to stare at her, “I can get them to blast you. Then we can all go home, together.”

“I tried that already, sweetheart. They know about my powers,” she admits to you.

“What if there's nothing at the end of this? We don't know what this is?” Rio tries to reason.

Agatha meets Rio’s gaze, “I do know what this is, you know too. We all know that the road isn’t real. Yet, here we are standing on it, going through trials. This magic is familiar to me, the sigil prevents it, but I know who that boy is. He’s just like his mother.”

“We can find another coven,” you suggest.

Agatha lets out a humorless laugh, “My reputation proceeds me, sweetheart. There are no more witches who wish to gather with me. Lilia, I trust her divination. This is the only way.”

“Then we have to stay,” you turn around to look at Rio.

Rio averts her gaze, “We must go after the next trial.”

You steel your gaze, “Why?”

The Green Witch looks to Agatha for help.

“Sweetheart, it’s not safe here. You just had to clip your own wings. Rio has work to do, and she can’t do it in here. Go with her and I will see you when this is over.”

“Agatha, I-"

She kisses you, softly, “I will come back to you. I won’t be going anywhere. It will be us three, I promise.”

“One more trial don’t say goodbye yet,” you say against her lips.

“I’m never going to say goodbye again, ok? It’s just a promise to meet later.”

You look at Rio, “And we’re staying together, right.”

Rio’s hand reach to cup your face. Her eyes are serious when they look into yours, “I’m never leaving you again.”

You press your lips hers, need seeping through your kiss. When you break the kiss, you find yourself between the two women again.

“Let’s get back to the camp, and rest. I’m sure you’re exhausted, sweetheart.”

“Carry me?” You ask.

Agatha rolls her eyes but scoops you up anyway . You hang on to her like a koala causing Rio to laugh.

“You have wings,” Agatha grumbles.

You nuzzle deeper into her, “They’re not as comfortable as your arms.”

“She got you there, my love,” Rio moves in closer to walk shoulder to shoulder with Agatha.

“You’re carrying her next time.”

The three of you share a laugh. A nice moment to end a chaotic couple of hours. The stress of the road ahead not lost on you, just pushed aside for a moment. There had been enough pain for the day. You didn’t want to dwell on the near future, opting instead to think of the moment it was over. When you’d finally get to have Rio and Agatha to yourself.

[asumi2020202]

Blessing disguised as a Curse

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen!reader.

A/N: After the 1st episode of season two I'm currently obsessing over Jacaerys. So, many Jacaerys stories will be uploaded as well as Aemond cuz I Love him too. Thank you for reading this fiction.

Summary: You were Alicent's daughter. Younger than the three, Aegon, Aemond and Helaena but older than Daeron. After returning from Dragonstone, Rhaenyra proposes a marriage pact between her eldest and you. A man your mother had warned you about.

___________________________ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ______

People and gatherings made you nervous. Anxiety coursed through your veins everytime someone started a conversation with you. Solitude was what you preferred. Your comfort was your sister and by some means her bugs as well.

Your mother warned you of the people that were coming back to Kings Landing. She told you to keep distance from them. Though you paid almost no mind to her words which were half controlled by your grandsire, you couldn't help but ponder about those people she talked about.

You knew them from the start before they fled to Dragonstone after taking your precious brother's eye. You had felt hatred towards them but 'what if they change?' You had thought countless of times.

You loved your siblings more than anything. Having a father only by name in the court and a stranger in the halls as he supported your half-sister with everything she had done even if it was killing someone.

You love them. You tried to be there for them through everything. You love Aegon even if was arrogant and misbehaving. You love Aemond even if he wanted revenge. You love Helaena even if she is called weird by others and is obsessed with bugs. You love Daeron even if you have almost no memory of him left.

_________________________________________

You were playing with little Jaehaerys and Jaehaera while Helaena was telling you more facts about bugs. She loved that her baby sister also had interest in her bugs and helps her catch them.

"Did you know that butterflies join their bodies together to reproduce?" Helaena asks you meeting your gaze.

"Really? I used to think they flap their wings together." You reply as you played with Jaehaerys while little Jaehaera sat on your lap.

"Hmm. The male butterfly often dies soon after they mate." Helaena spoke as her gaze shifted back on her embroidery.

"So then the female butterfl-" you were going to reply when the doors opened to reveal your mother.

Both you and Helaena looked up at her while the children were escorted away by the maids. " They have landed. Remember what I have told you my sweelings. Be on your best behaviours." Alicent spoke.

"Yes mother we understand " you replied speaking for both you and your sister. Alicent left the room after nodding at you.

_________________________________________

After meeting with her daughters, Alicent left their room. A maid informed her that Princess Rhaenyra had wanted to meet with her.

Alicent let the maid guide her to the room where Rhaenyra was present. When they reached the place, the maid opened the door to let the Queen inside.

Alicent was met with Rhaenyra. She could tell just by the looks that Rhaenyra was pregnant.

"It has been too long since we were granted the chance to converse" Alicent spoke, breaking the silence.

"Indeed it has been. I know you were busy with the royal matters at hand, so I asked for you at a time when you would be free." Rhaenyra replied looking into Alicent's eyes.

"Is there any important matter that you wish to discuss with me?" Alicent asked.

"Yes, there is one actually. The rift between us has lived far too long. I propose a marriage pact. My son Jacaerys will inherit the Iron Throne after me. Let my son and your youngest daughter be betrothed together so they shall rule together.

We are one family. And long before that we were close friends." Rhaenyra said and looked at Alicent for an answer.

"I sh-" Alicent was going to speak but Rhaenyra interjected.

"This marriage will help us reconcile with each other." She said.

"I shall think of it and give you your answer after the feast tonight." Alicent replied. "Thank you your grace." Rhaenyra smiled at her.

_________________________________________

Alicent had requested an audience with her father after meeting Rhaenyra to discuss about the marriage.

"Father I can't just sacrifice my child." Alicent pleaded. "I know Alicent but this marriage can help us take the throne and make Aegon the king." Otto reasoned.

"Tell Rhaenyra that you agree to this proposal. If y/n is married to her son then it will be easier to control them. When the throne is returned to the rightful heir, it will be easier to prevent war." Otto continued.

Alicent feeling defeated, agreed to her father's request.

_________________________________________

You were in your sister's chambers, waiting for her to get finished dressing up so you both could attend the feast together.

Your dress was simple yet the details on it were impressive. It was was a navy blue dress with golden details. It made you look ethereal.

When Helaena was done, the both of you left the chambers together. Holding tightly onto the hands of your sister as the maids escorted you to the feast hall.

All were seated at the table only getting up when Viserys arrived before sitting down again.

You were seated on the right side of Helaena as Aegon sat on her left. Aemond sat at the end of the table. Rhaena and Baela sat on your right. Starting small conversations which you could connect to and laugh with them.

You were trying hard to not feel nervous. You couldn't really face upfront only talking to Rhaena, Baela and Helaena.

Jacaerys had never thought you to be so beautiful over the years. When he first saw you after the years, he hadn't believed it was you. Only five and ten yet you were the most beautiful lady in his eyes. He had seen you accidentally when he was watching Aemond train, you stood in your balcony gazing at the sky. It was he who actually reasoned with his mother to marry you to him.

He couldn't take his eyes off of you during the feast. The way the dress showed your curves. The way you white hair was style. The necklace on your neck. He was in love.

You on the other hand couldn't even meet his gaze after what your mother told you.

'His brother took your brother's eye, who knows if one day he comes and decides to bring harm to us as well.' she had said.

Jace got up, walking upto you. Lending his hand forward, asking for a dance. You looked at your mother who just nodded. After which you had accepted his hand.

He led you to the side. The music had started. As you both started to dance. He didn't seem so bad. He seemed gentle, offering you bright smiles to which you just gave some small ones.

He looked different. Different than how your mother described him. Ruthless, arrogant, selfish and such.

After the feast, when the children went to their designated chambers, Alicent told Rhaenyra that she had accepted the marriage proposal. That she would try to forget the past and reconcile with her.

The two women decided that they shall break the news to the children and the king next morning, bidding each other a good night.

_________________________________________

You woke early as usual. Your maids had prepared you for the day. A knock on the door took your attention.

It was Jace.

The one who you felt some type of attachment to after the previous feast. He stood infront of your door as he said "Our mothers have requested an audience with us at the King's chambers. I was asked to inform you and take you to them."

"Very well then my prince, let us leave at once." You replied, getting up from your seat and walking down the corridor with him.

'My prince?' oh how sweet it sounded coming from your mouth. But he didn't want 'my prince', he wanted 'husband'.

He knew why they both were called, his mother told him yesterday night before he fell asleep. That the two would be married soon.

Upon arrival at the King's chambers, you greeted your mother, Rhaenyra and the king.

"Ah you've arrived. Do sit. Your mother and I have agreed on something and we wish for your answer as well." Rhaenyra said giving a smile while holding hands with Alicent like she used to when they were children.

You nodded your head as a sign for her to continue speaking.

"We have decided that you and my son Jace shall be betrothed together for the harmony of our family. Your mother has agreed and so has Jace but I wish for your answer." Rhaenyra finished her saying.

"It is a most judicious proposition. Wouldn't you agree daughter?" King Viserys who was resting in his armchair spoke up.

You looked at your mother, who stared at you and offered a smile and then to Jacaerys who looked around your face to find any kind of rejection.

You looked up at Rhaenyra, anxiety flaring through and spoke "if it can help the family be whole again and please my mother then I shall agree."

Rhaenyra's face brightened as did Jace's. Alicent only nodded.

"Well then. I believe we can start with the preparations right away." Rhaenyra said getting up to hold your hands as you looked up to her.

_________________________________________

"You've warned me my entire life about them mother, and now you simply marry me off to him. I don't get you." You spoke to your mother calmly.

"Sweetling, I know it is difficult for you but it is for the greater good. It is to uphold the realm and make peace." Alicent reasoned while placing her hand on your face.

No other word was spoken as you went back to your chambers.

You liked Jacaerys after the events of last night but you couldn't help but worry about what your mother told you. You couldn't help but worry about your siblings, you would have to leave your home and go to Dragonstone with them.

_________________________________________

Three days since that day, your wedding was held. You and Jace cut your lips and the your palms. Holding your hands together, you both drank from the same cup with your other hands. The septa reciting the vows the both of you had to take.

Your families bear witness of the event. Of the love that was to blossom.

After the feast that was held, you left for your now shared chambers in the red keep.

Jacaerys came in a moment after you. You felt nervous. It was your first night together. As if a miracle, he sense your nervousness.

"Is something bothering you dear wife? You even left the feast early." He asked softly not to startle you.

Wife. Oh how you knew you will love him just from how that word slipped from his mouth.

"It is nothing lord husband. It's just that I don't fare well in gatherings. I find solace in solitude." You reply back.

"Well I hope that from now on I can be your solace." Jacaerys replied with his bright smile as he came closer to you. Your chest almost touching his lower chest.

He was tall. You had tilt your head up to meet him. You didn't move aside as he cupped your cheeks and looked at your for permission.

As you nodded, he took the sign and kissed you. You both had consummated that night for the first time.

________________________________________

The day came when you had to leave with them to Dragonstone. You would eventually come back when Rhaenyra would be crowned.

You stood before your siblings and parents, kissing the cheeks of your siblings. "Will you come back soon?"

"Of course my little cuddle bears." You said as you crouched down to meet the level of your nephew and niece.

You climbed on top of your dragon, Moonfyre as they all bid you farewell. You heart saddened as you thought that Helaena would be alone now with Aegon ignoring her. Aemond might not even apply his ointments properly. And your mother.. would be lonely.

Moonfyre sensed your worry and sadness, letting out a low groan. She was as beautiful as the night. A white dragon whose color slowly went from white to grey. Eyes as bright as the moon, earning her name when she hatched.

_________________________________________

Viserys was dead. It had been moons since you left. A raven had informed Rhaenyra that her half brother Aegon had usurped the throne.

The weight of the matter forced her to go in labor. Her child was a stillborn. It pained her. You knew it tore her from the inside but she had to focus one the matters at hand.

Ser Eryyk had came with the crown of King Jaehaerys I. Daemon crowned her as the queen as all bowed. Otto came to make peace with them which resulted in rejection straight up in his face.

She sent her sons to earn the favor of other houses.

_________________________________________

"Y/n" you heard her call you from the back as stood near the stairs of Dragonstone, gazing at the sea.

"Come walk with me" she told you. As you both went down the stairs to the beach, you both had a gentle conversation.

"Do you wish to switch sides? I would not blame you if you do for they are your family." Rhaenyra spoke.

"All my life, I've seen them being neglected. By both father and mother. I was their and still am their comfort source.

Aegon always told me that he will not sit the iron throne. He told me that being a king will only hold him down in one place, and that he wishes to fly free like a dragon." You pause, looking at her eyes while gently holding her hand before continuing.

"And now they tell me that he has Usurped the throne. That he is now the king and that he now rules. That doesn't seem like the Aegon i know." You told her as she looked at you and nodded her head.

_________________________________________

You stood in the middle of Rhaena and Baela as see someone tell Rhaenyra a few words as she broke down.

She turned around, her eyes filled with rage and sorrow.

Lucerys was dead. Vhagar attacked him.

You felt helpless. Did your brother intentionally kill the Heir to Driftmark? You knew he had a deep hatred for Lucerys for taking his eye. But he wouldn't go as far as to kill him.

A raven had been sent to Jacaerys, informing him of the news. You couldn't face the queen. She knew you were innocent but that cannot pardon the sin of your brother.

You had began to open up but now your alone again. The little child seeking solitude. Hiding from people.

_________________________________________

A raven had arrived, delivering a letter to you. It was from the Red Keep. It was Aegon.

Dear Sister,

I know what has been done cannot be changed, but Aemond didn't actually wanted to kill Luke. It was grandsire. He got in his head like mother. He lost control over Vhagar.

I don't wish to rule. They told me that inorder for Rhaenyra to rule, she would have to kill us. That she would kill us all to secure the throne for her and her son. Grandsire said the same thing to Mother the other day, I had overheard it.

This war shouldn't happen. It will tear all of us apart. We are not the enemy of the blacks nor are they ours. Our enemy is Otto Hightower. He wants to rule the kingdom indirectly by being the hand.

Tell our half sister that we must work together. That I am willing to lay down my throne. She will be the Protector of the Realm. I know this is a crucial time for you but stay safe.

-Yours truly

Aegon.

You didn't know what to say. You were Alicent's daughter, who would believe you. They might consider you a traitor as well. You clutched the letter to your chest.

You walls finally broke. You broke down on the bed. It was him from the beginning. Otto Hightower. Anger and pain surrounded you. You cried as you brought your knees to your chest and hid your face there.

The door slowly opened which you hadn't noticed. It was Jacaerys. He had a melancholy look in his eyes as well as of guilt and hatred.

He hated seeing you cry. His Lady Wife. He gently put his head on your back. You looked up to meet his gaze with a tearful look.

The way he looked broke your heart. He looked used and betrayed. You got up and met his gaze again never letting go of the letter.

"Lord husband-" you started but he shakes his head as a no.

"Don't. Don't speak." He tried to say it normally but it came out cold as he walked towards the desk in your room to perhaps look for something.

"Please listen to me. He is innocent. I got a ra-" You started again but got cut off.

""Innocent?! He killed my brother! How can you possibly call him innocent?! My brother went as a messager. He vowed not to fight and Your Brother!..... Took advantage of that!" He screamed at you. For the first time. You had never seen him so angry even when your brothers teased him. He looked at you with hatred.

Tears flooded your vision again. He had never raised his voice at you. You knew it was due to the loss of his brother but that didn't hurt any less.

"I understand your pain. But you must listen to me! At least once hus-" you reasoned which angered him further.

"How can you understand My pain?! T'is I who lost my brother not you. And whats there to listen to? That your brother killed him accidentally?!

Tell me. Were you also a part of this? I truly thought you had loved me. But it seems you're the same as well!" He shouted again coming closer to you.

"I truly do love you. Please believe me!" Your tears flowed freely.

"No you don't. Tell me... Was this marriage also a scheme of you and your family?! Shut up, just shut up for once!"

Your eyes went wide. He wanted you to shut up. You were bothering him. He doubted your love for him. His own eyes widened a bit when he realised what he said. He left the chambers in a hurry not wanting to discuss about this further.

Your chest felt tight. You couldn't breathe properly. You had trouble while trying to inhale the air.

_________________________________________

As Jacaerys left the chambers, he felt as if his clothes were too tight for his body. He saw Baela and Rhaena bringing your food to your chambers like they have been since the day they received the news of Luke.

They nodded at him as he reciprocated.

As they went inside the chambers, a scream could be heard. Possibly from Baela. It could be heard from all the corners of the castle.

Jace heard it before anyone else as his heart stopped. He rushed straight back to the shared room as he saw Baela cradling your unconscious, small form to her chest while Rhaena panicked and told the maids to call for the maesters.

His breathing stopped as he saw his mother and Princess Rhaenys enter the room along with the maester and maids. His mother looked at him as his eyes filled with tears.

First he lost Lucerys he can't lose you too. He didn't mean anything he said.

_________________________________________

Jacaerys paced around the hall infront of your room. He watched as Rhaena guided his little brother Joffery to his room. Joffery was fond of you which warmed Jace's heart.

As the maesters came out both he and Rhaenyra stood up.

"How is she?" He asked them.

"She has a heavy fever. It possibly happened due to excessive stress. She must have bed rest. " The maesters spoke before leaving.

_________________________________________

It had been 2 days. You were yet to wake up. Moonfyre's cries and wails could be heard from everywhere. She was uncomfortable. Her bonded sister was not well and she could sense it.

Jace held your hand as he apologized over and over again. His tears wetting the sheets.

Your eyes slowly opened. Adjusting to the bright light. Jace looked up to see you now wide awake, trying to sit up.

"No no lay down. You need rest. The maester said you were stressed." He said. His voice quivering.

"Don't cry. I understand your part. I'm sorry I am not what you wish for. I know you wouldn't want to be with a murderer's sister. Hence I give you full permission to take a second wife." You gently said while looking at him.

"No shut up." He said lowly not believing what you said. "I didn't mean anything I said that day. I am sorry." He spoke.

You looked out the window remembering the last time he had asked you to shut up. Tears again filled your eyes which you blinked away but Jace noticed.

"My love i didn't mean it that way. Please believe me." He pleaded shaking his head as held your hand tight.

News spreads fast in the castle. A maid had informed the rest that you were awake. Daemon was with Caraxes and lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys were somewhere on the beach.

Rhaenyra, Rhaena and Baela came to the your chambers. The sisters came beside you as they held onto your hand.

Even though you were the daughter of their enemy, they loved you. You were different.

Rhaenyra looked at her son before turning her gaze to you. She felt disappointed in her son after she learned about the argument.

You asked Rhaena for the letter kept on your bedside table as your body was too weak to move. You probably need a few more weeks to be healthy again.

You asked her to give it Rhaenyra.

As Rhaenyra opened the letter and read it's contents, she felt clueless. She didn't realise the state of the other side. Her companion was manipulated from the start.

She held your hand and gave you a sad look. She handed the letter to Jace as she thought that he should read it as well.

His heart broke. You tried to tell him everything but he refused to listen. You tried to explain everything but he only badmouthed you.

Rhaenyra promised you that Otto Hightower will be punished and that none of your siblings would be harmed.

_________________________________________

Calling of your name came from two bubbly voice as they ran to you. You crouched down and opened your arms. The force of your nephew and niece's weight made you fall flat on your butt.

Jacaerys smiled as he saw the reunion. Infront of him stood your four siblings whom you kissed on the cheeks and hugged after getting up.

It was Rhaenyra's official coronation day. Otto Hightower was beheaded for his schemes against the crown.

Rhaenyra and Alicent were finally together again after Rhaenyra found Daemon with Nettles.

All of the royal family stood as King Jaehaerys' crown was placed upon her head. All gave their respects to their first queen.

Jacaerys held your hand tight as he smiled at you which you reciprocated.

_________________________________________

As night fell over kings landing, you and Jace retired to your new shared chambers.

"Husband. Join me in bed." You requested. Your body glowing in your night gown because of the moonlight.

"Of course avy jorrāelan." Jace replied as he climbed on top of the bed and over your body, pinning you down.

He kissed you passionately as one of your hand cupped his face while the other held onto his neck for support.

His naked chest glowed like yours in the moonlight.

"You are most precious thing I have my love." He said as pulled away from your lips.

"And you, my lord husband, came in my life like a blessing disguised as a curse." You said as you both looked at each other and hungrily kissed each other.

The two of slept a long time after consummating the entire night.

He truly did came in your life like a Blessing disguised as a Curse.....

[gothlcsan]

꒰ BEFORE SLEEPING ꒱ 재현

Jaehyun has always been one of your closest of best friends, never thinking anything would happen between the two of you. Until one night, one dream changes that completely.

genre smut, non!idol jaehyun, fem!reader

tws wet dream, best friends, deep throating, cum eating, pet names, no mention of protection or aftercare, not proofread

author’s note welcome to day two of kinktober! i will be back next week with two new fics ~ ! using @dreamlandcreations kinktober list <3

word count 1496

Placing your coat onto its hanger, you take off your heels, shifting so that your phone is safely tucked between your ear and shoulder.

“Mhm, I just made it inside. Thank you again for dinner and your new book, I’m thinking of starting it soon.”

That gains a laugh from the other end.

“Have you read any of my books?” Jaehyun questioned.

There’s a small pause.

“Well, no, but I still buy them thank you!” You retort back.

He thanks you for that, the two of you falling into casual conversation until he makes it home, bidding each other goodnight before hanging up. Quietness fills out your apartment, debating what to do with your nail between your teeth. Having decided on showering quickly before getting into bed, you let your hair air dry, pour a glass of wine, and grab Jaehyun’s new book as you climb into bed.

Brushing the cover with your hand you feel the lettering, liking the title considering it was ironically before bed for you.

Before Sleeping.

Opening the book to the first page you get engrossed in the novel. Much to your surprise it’s filthy, the glasses of wine heightening the blush blossoming over your face and legs. You didn’t know Jaehyun wrote like this, your lip tucked between your teeth as you made it halfway through before deciding it was time for sleep. Your heart raced in your chest, eyes heavy due to the sudden sleepiness paired with the alcohol, nodding off rather quickly.

“Are you awake?”

“Hm?”

You’re asked again, humming, feeling your body being rolled over so you’re flat on your back. Eyes fluttering open as you see Jaehyun over you. He’s still wearing what he wore last night at dinner, sleepily asking what he was doing here. Jaehyun brushes the hair out of your face, the pad of his thumb brushing across the entirety of your bottom lip.

“I missed you, sorry if I came at a bad time.”

Shaking your head you tell him it’s okay, the room going quiet until you offer him to lay down, cuddling into him instinctively. He doesn’t speak as he cups your face, your breath hitching as he brings you into a kiss, your lips in perfect harmony. Jaehyun felt warm, this isn’t real you thought, ignoring the voice in your dream, letting Jaehyun engulf. His cologne was inviting, gasping as his large hands started exploring your body.

“Jaehyun..” you softly moaned, clenching around nothing as he sat up, removing his shirt. Your heart leapt, forgetting how fit your best friend was under layers. Lifting your hand up you place it against his abs, his hand wrapped around your wrist as he brings it down to feel his growing bulge. Gulping at the size, you blush as he talks dirty, the words familiar but not able to pinpoint why.

“Look how you affect me, this is all your doing.”

The sound of his belt being undone makes the wetness between your thighs grow, gasping slightly as his trousers are pulled down, not expecting him to have nothing on underneath them. He’s large, your eyes unable to move past that, Jaehyun chuckling asking if you liked what you saw. Shamelessly nodding in response. Jaehyun says something you’re not able to make out, your eyes widening as he manhandles you so you’re sat up, your face dangerously close to his dick. Staring up at him he gives you a smile, bushing your bangs back as he tells you to open your mouth for him. You obey, opening your mouth, Jaehyun placing two fingers against your wetly warm tongue. The pressure is thrilling, wrapping your lips around the digits, humming as he pushes them toward than back between your lips in a rhythm. You feel like you’re on cloud nine, your own fingers falling to rub your clit, gasping for air when he removes his fingers.

“What an impatient brat, you need more already?”

You nod.

With little to no time for you to process, he’s pushing his dick into your mouth, the sudden intrusion making you gag slightly. He seems to be into it by the way he’s collecting a handful of your hair, saying you looked so pretty with him in your mouth, bringing his hips back to snap back forward into your mouth. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes as Jaehyun picked up his pace, pushing deeper into your throat, stretching perfectly for him. Hearing his raspy voice curse and compliment how good your throat felt around him, makes you feverishly delve your fingers into your drenched cunt. It’s sloppy, one hand wrapped around his thigh as the other worked yourself, eyes scrunched closed as you swallowed around him, Jaehyun’s grip on your hair tightening in response.

“Fuck, I’m,” Jaehyun chuckled, his voice breaking being a sign he was already close, his breathing heavy.

He places both of his hands on either side of your head, fucking himself deep in your throat. Pushing your nose deep against his pubes, his groans loud as he finally tips over the edge, cumming deep down your throat. You swallow what you can, Jaehyun pulling out, panting as you try to catch your breath, having already cummed around your own fingers a moment prior. Feeling dizzy from the lack of oxygen makes you smile up at him with hooded eyes, Jaehyun calling you a good girl as he plants kisses across your face. He leans down just a bit so that he’s able to whisper in your ear, your body small compared to him.

“Time to wake up, doll.”

Sitting up with a gasp, you rub the sleep from your eyes, turning your head to look at the time. Reality sets in quickly as your fingers trailed down between your legs, feeling how wet you were, pulling your hand back in embarrassment. Looking down to see the book next to you, your stomach ignites in flames, realizing you had dreamt you and Jaehyun as the couple in the book. The dream replays in your head, your hand instinctively moving back down to your cunt, biting down on your bottom lip thinking about him.

Jaehyun…

Being this worked up it’s not long before you’re cumming around your fingers, whimpering as you fish for your phone off the bedside table. You’re not thinking clearly, dialing Jaehyun, groaning as he answers. His voice is thick with sleep, asking what you needed so late in the night, breathlessly moaning in his ear as you touch your sensitive clit.

“Jaehyun, can you please,” you’re cut off by a trembling sigh, swallowing hard as you continue.

“Please, I need you, can you please come over?”

There’s a pause, hearing him move around on the other end of the phone. Asking if he was still there, Jaehyun’s voice returned, making your stomach erupt in butterflies.

“I’m on my way now, be a good girl and don’t touch until I get there, alright?”

His voice is thick, smooth, assertive, nodding before giving him an audible response. He hangs up, covering your mouth as you remove your fingers from your cunt to wait on Jaehyun.

It’s a minimum of fifteen minutes when you hear the sound of your door being unlocked, the shuffle of shoes being removed, Jaehyun knocking on the bedroom door before coming inside.

“Fuck,” he says with a smirk, removing his coat as he walked closer to you. Covering your exposed body with your hands unsuccessfully as he sat on the bed next to you. His hand hits something, watching as Jaehyun pulls something from the mess of your sheets, a smug smirk growing on his face.

“Ah,” he lifts his book up for you to see. “This is what’s got you like this, hm?”

You blush profusely reaching to grab the book from him but he’s quicker, Jaehyun placing it on the floor as he moves so he’s looming over you. His body is much larger than yours, caging you between him and the mattress, a shocker gasp coming from you. Placing his hand on your chest he drags it down your curves until it’s just hovering where you wanted him most, clenching pathetically around nothing.

“Jaehyun.. please,” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, your fingers intertwining in the ends of his hair. Lifting his eyebrow feigning innocence he purposely pressed his fingers against your clit, making you jump, pulling him into a feverish kiss. Feeling insanely incredible as your lips work together, his large hands exploring you in ways that you didn’t know were possible, pulling back to catch your breath looking into his deep brown eyes.

“You look so pretty,” Jaehyun says, earning a deep blush from you as you pull back into another kiss.

“Please shut up and fuck me.”

“Yes ma’am,” he laughs against your lips, repositioning you so that your legs are wrapped around him.

Thankful for this being reality and not in a heated dream.

[fashionteahouse]

Can I get one where Paul imprinted on the hottest girl on the rez and all the pack had crushed on her at one point in their lives so when they are all out patrolling Paul keeps thinking back to when he and the reader slept together the pack can’t get that image out of their heads so when they are with their own imprints during their sexual activities they accidentally say readers name when they finish and the imprints get mad thinking something is going on kinda like that episode

yes! this honestly seems so juicy to write 😭 hope you enjoy :)

rewind - paul x reader

Admiring from a far, each pack member imagined what it would be like if you said yes. They looked forward to seeing you around the rez. You knew them kind of well from growing up together. Annoyance was there when you knew the inevitable question would come, “Can I take you out?”

Everyone was turned down. One after the next. It was confusing because it was rare for a very pretty girl to be single. You didn’t care about being in a relationship. You wanted to focus on your future. Something needed to stick out to you for you to gravitate towards it.

With rejection targeting all of his pack brothers, Paul for the first time was nervous about asking out a girl. After he shifted, he saw you walking with a friend in the city and bam! He felt like he could take the word into the palm of his hands and own it. He wanted to own it with you. You seen him around, but never struck up a conversation with him.

In a way, you thought he was a bit interesting. His eyes enchanted yours and you found yourself finding it hard to look away. You had to though, in order to cross the street.

The pack didn’t believe him when he told them he imprinted on you. Waving it off and saying, “She’ll shoot you down too.”

He knew they were just jealous. He watched slowly but surely as his pack brothers were getting entangled in their imprint’s lives.

He felt like he could do a thousand backflips when you agreed to let him treat you out to ice cream. You didn’t know that one yes could change the trajectory of your life. One hangout turned into many. Soon, you both were joined at the hip. You both didn’t need to breathe in oxygen. You had each other. The kisses were sweet, the touches were comforting, and the moments never seemed to be enough.

Breathy pants of Paul’s name escapes your lips over and over. Dancing with stars was the best description to match the feeling you both felt. Hovering over him, he was able to possessively cup your breast as you bounced on him. Reaching your peak, Paul watched as you went silent and arched your back as you faced the ceiling with your eyes closed, trembling.

“Jesus..” Jared comments.

A growl erupts deep in Paul’s animalistic mind and leaks out of his throat. He totally forgot he was on patrol. He couldn’t help it. You drove him wild. He was counting down the very second he was able to go back to you.

“Thanks. I’ll never get it out of my head.” Quil says, almost not sorry for admitting the excitement he felt.

Paul predatorily creeps towards him, “I have an idea on how to get it out for you.”

“That’s enough.” Sam orders, knowing Paul will actually attack him to make him forget.

“You all need to mind your business.” Paul says to the others.

“I still can’t believe you were able to score her. You really are the spirit’s favorite.” Jacob says. He was tired of the same sexual positions that his imprint was comfortable with.

“I swear Kim only gets on top every once in a blue moon.” Jared says.

“Didn’t ask.” Paul says and think of blankness for the rest of patrol.

Emily was happy to see just Sam come through the door. Usually a pile of boys would be behind him.

“They wanted to go home.” Sam explains when he noticed Emily’s puzzled expression. He knew the reason why. She nods and smiled and pulls him close to her. His intrusive thought of what he saw during patrol made him feel aroused. He tried to shake it. Finally having alone time, the bed rocked to the rhythm that Sam pumped into Emily. Her brain was mush and she was loving every second. Her rolling hips reminded him of how you bucked at Paul. Feeling the tingling of climax approaching, he pumps faster, only to whisper your name as he rides out his orgasm. He hopes that it was quiet enough for it to miss Emily’s ears. Emily rewinded what he said as he moved to the bathroom to clean up. She felt some type of way. Hurt even.

Jared had to coerce and coerce Kim to be on top this time. The memory of what he saw in his pack brother’s mind, made him really want Kim to do it. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” she shyly says. Jared caress the sides of her skin giving her a content smile. “Just move in the direction it feels good.” he coaches and helps give her the start of the rocking motion. A special spot hits her and she gets the hang of it soon enough. Her face slightly titled up and eyelids hung low, Jared’s mind rewinded the image of the same position he saw on patrol. Bucking his hips, he closed his eyes trying to focus on just Kim and just Kim only. Instead, the picture of your puffy and puckered breasts moving up and down was alone with him. At the height of Kim’s note of her orgasmic moan, he moaned at the same time as her, calling your name. He didn’t think she heard, her voice was louder than his. Kim noticed because she actually liked on top this time, she was left wondering if Jared didn’t like it. Another girl was on his mind.

Laying on his back, waiting for his imprint to come into the bedroom for bed, Jacob stared at the ceiling. He tried to make it through the seconds that passed him to not go back to the imagery of you in the bedroom. He was happy with who he was with. He just wanted a switch up every once in a while. Coming in, slowly becoming shy as Jacob pulls her to him, she runs her fingers through his hair. He kisses her with love and while she was still on top of him, he rocks his hips a bit even though she still had clothing on. Gladly, she responds with the roll her hips, getting comfortable with position. Jacob takes his sweet time, it was a blessing for her but it was a curse to him. Trying his best to focus on the girl removing her top, he rewinded on the moment of your orgasmic face. He wanted to make his imprint make the same face. For the heck of it, his imprint rode him without wanting to go safe. She was shy at first but Jacob’s grunts and groans motivated her to keep going. Watching him squeeze his eyes shut, she felt really good. At her peak, she heard a groaned out trail of your name leave his lips. She didn’t want her tears to show until she leaves out to turn on the shower.

A three way communication was involving the three imprints. One vented to the other of what happened in bed. They came to the same conclusion and let the other know, only to find out they’re all victims. Wondering on what to do, Kim couldn’t help but speak her census.

“Y/N definitely has something to do with this”

Emily didn’t want to believe it but in her mind, there was no other reason why Sam would say your name.

“I’ll invite her over. If she’s around the boys they will either stick up for her or vise versa”

Waiting on your arrival, you were stalling to leave Paul. He was like a magnet. He promised to pick you up soon.

Arriving was normal for you. For the other three girls, not so much. You joined them at the table and is surprised that none of them got up to hug you like they always did.

“We won’t be mad, but what’s going on with you and the boys?” Kim starts off. She didn’t want to do small talk. This was no manner.

“The boys? Um…it’s been a while since I’ve seen all of them. But as far as I know, nothing.” you say trying to bring a resolution.

“Have you seen Jared?” Kim asked.

“No. Why is he missing?” you ask worriedly now.

“No, he’s not missing…if you’re leading him on then it’s not a good idea.” Kim says getting agitated. Emily touches her arm.

You get confused and thrown for a loop. “Me, leading them on? What are you talking about?” you say.

“Our three imprints said your name.” Jacob’s imprint speaks up to say.

“What?!” and then you laugh. You actually think it’s a joke. “Okay, you got me. That was a good one.”

Their furious expressions don’t change and you notice, your smile starting to deflate.

“I really hope you’re not serious.” You say trying to piece everything together.

“We’re not joking.” Emily says.

“I’m sorry, but that’s their problem. I haven’t done anything for them to do that. Why would they do that?” You ask and ask the last question really wanting to know.

You pull out your phone, feeling uncomfortable. Kim starts to say and points her finger at you accusingly, “That’s so fucked up. They wouldn’t just do that if you didn’t do anything.”

You let your finger press on Paul’s contact, turning your head to Kim. “You need to ask them. Not me.” you hiss to them and Paul picks up. You ask him to pick you up but Kim interrupts, “You might need to ask her if she’s doing anything with your pack brothers.”

“What?” Paul says on the other line.

“They think I’m the reason why their imprints fantasize about me.” You say in disbelief, tears trying to prickle your eyes. You didn’t like being accused of such thing.

“Y/N, put me on speaker.” He says to you and you press it.

He calls out for the angry imprints’ attention. Once he knows that they’re actually listening to him on the phone in the middle of the table, he speaks out about what happened on patrol.

You had no knowledge of this and put your face in your hands. All you could think about that the boys saw that moment. The looks of the imprints changes from viciousness to great compassions.

They all make an effort to hug you right after Paul hangs up, feeling guilty for jumping to conclusions. The apologies were sincere and promised to never make such thing tear you guys apart. Now united, you all now think of a plan to make them feel what you all felt.

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

Yandere young Justice x villain reader

The night in New York was alive, the streets buzzing with energy, the lights reflecting off the wet pavement below. It was a city that never slept, and you were the one who owned the dark corners where shadows lingered longest.

You leaned against the side of a building, your eyes scanning the skyline as the wind tugged at your coat. It was quiet up here, just the way you liked it. But tonight felt different—electric, as if something was about to shift. You could feel their presence before you saw them.

A new face on the rooftops. A vigilante, but not one you recognized. His movements were confident, almost predatory, and you couldn’t help but watch as he approached.

“You’re not from around here,” you teased, voice smooth as you gave him a knowing smile. “What’s a new face doing in my city?”

The vigilante stopped, looking you up and down with a sharp gaze that made something stir in your chest. “Just exploring,” he replied, his tone low and steady.

You chuckled, leaning forward slightly, eyes sparkling. “Exploring, huh? Well, you picked a good spot. But you’ve gotta be careful up here—this is my territory.”

He smirked. “I don’t get lost.”

You tilted your head, the flirtation in your voice thick. “No, I don’t think you do.”

As the conversation continued, your thoughts drifted, your smile widening at the way this new player had no fear of you. You were used to being the one who held the power in situations like this, but tonight felt different. There was something about him, something dangerous, and you found yourself enjoying it a little too much.

But then, the feeling changed.

You didn’t have to look down to know who was watching. You could feel them—them. Young Justice. They hadn’t left you alone since the fight, and here they were again, hidden in the darkness below, waiting for you to give them a sign that you cared.

You didn’t.

You couldn’t.

As the vigilante stepped closer, his presence overwhelming and strangely comforting, you felt the familiar weight of eyes on you. Robin, Artemis, Kid Flash, Superboy, M’gann, and Aqualad. They were all there, standing in the shadows, pretending they didn’t care. You could feel their hearts beating faster, their jealousy, their frustration. It made you smile, just a little.

Down below, Robin’s grip tightened on his batarang, his breath shallow as he watched you laugh, leaning a little closer to this new vigilante. His chest ached, but his expression remained hard, trying not to let you see how badly you hurt him. How could you be so cruel?

Kid Flash’s usual energy was gone, replaced by a tightness in his chest that wouldn’t ease. "Why him? Why not me?" he muttered to himself, fists clenching at his sides.

Superboy stood a little apart, a deep, painful ache settling in his chest as he watched. He’d always been the one who would fight for what he wanted, but you? You had pushed him away the moment he’d tried. Now, seeing you with someone else, it was like a knife twisting in his gut. "It’s always someone else," he murmured bitterly.

M’gann felt the emotions swirling around them all—her heart breaking for the team, but also feeling your coldness, your withdrawal. She felt the distance between you and them, and it hurt more than she could bear.

Aqualad stood silent, his mind sharp as ever, but his heart felt heavy. He had tried so hard to reach you, to bring you back, but now it felt like all his efforts had been wasted. Seeing you so easily slipping away from them, from him—it was like a blow he hadn’t expected.

Back on the rooftop, you glanced down, your eyes meeting the shadows below where the team was waiting. You could feel them there, all of them, watching you. It was suffocating. They were too close.

And yet, you didn’t care. Or at least, you told yourself you didn’t.

You turned back to the vigilante, but your heart wasn’t in the game anymore. The distance between you and them had been growing for a while, but tonight… tonight it felt too far.

The new vigilante moved closer, his voice low as he leaned in, his presence almost overwhelming. "You're not like them," he said, eyes searching yours.

You stepped back, your smile faltering. For a moment, everything felt too much—the city, the game, the memories. You didn’t want to go back to them, but you didn’t want this new player either.

“I’m not like anyone,” you whispered, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them. You turned away, retreating into the shadows, leaving him standing alone.

The city felt colder as you disappeared into the night, and for just a moment, you thought you might’ve heard the faintest echo of a heart breaking below.

But you pushed it away. You didn’t have time for that anymore.

(A/n: who do you think is the new vigilante is🤔)

[officialstrawhat]

The Hate We Love To Make

Roronoa Zoro x Fem!Strawhat!Reader

Summary: You and Zoro hate each other but feelings start to change when the captain of the Barto pirates points out what a great couple you two make.

Word Count: 1.3K

Note: Not Edited!

Masterlist

The grand Colosseum of Dressrosa buzzed with the roars of the crowd. Fighters from all across the grand line had gathered, their minds filled with ambition. Among them stood Bartolomeo, nearly vibrating with excitement. He had just met his hero, Monkey D. Luffy, the future king of the pirates. But now, his attention was completely captivated by the scene unfolding before him. He couldn’t believe it! You and Roronoa Zoro were there standing right there!

Since Bartolomeo’s obsession with the Straw Hats began, he’d held the utmost respect and admiration for each crew member. But your relationship with Zoro held a special place in his heart. He’d heard tales of your synchronized battles, of how you two took down foes with perfect timing, always watching each other’s backs. Now, he watched as the two of you stood so close to each other, sharing what looked like an intimate conversation. 

Oh, how he wished he could hear every word you two were saying to one another…

OoOoOo

“IDIOT!” you hiss as Zoro walks away from you. “You’re going the wrong way!”

Kin’emon, dressed in his disguise, stood nearby with an exasperated look. In his short time knowing you he’d grown accustomed to the daily verbal sparring matches between you two.

Zoro spun around, eye narrowed. Your eyes locked with his, a storm brewing between you. “How would you know that? You’ve never been here either!”

“Because I’m not a moron!” You jabbed a finger in his direction, inching closer. It was infuriating how much Zoro seemed to get under your skin. 

Ever since you joined the crew, Zoro had an uncanny knack for getting in your way. You tried not to let it bother you but every time you were about to defeat an opponent, Zoro would swoop in and take them down first. It drove you insane. So you started doing the same to him, knowing it drove him mad with similar fury. Since then, you’d made it a habit to pick on him with Sanji, drink his alcohol, and “accidentally” wake him up from naps.

“If you’re so concerned about which way we’re going, then leave.” He pointed in the opposite direction with a sharp flick of his wrist. “Go that way.”

Kin’emon’s voice cut through the tension. “Please, there’s no need to argue—”

But neither of you heard him as you stepped forward. Your fists clenched as heat surged through your veins.  Your face was now very close to his,  “I hate you. I hope you get lost and don’t come back.”

Zoro’s lip curled, his head tilting in a mocking grin. “Big words coming from a meek woman!”

“Meek?” you repeated, eyes blazing. “You son of a b—”

A loud, high-pitched squeal erupted nearby. “Oh. My. God. It’s Mister Roronoa Zoro and Miss Y/N!” Bartolomeo’s eyes were wide with admiration, his hands clutched to his chest as if his heart might burst.

Your scowl turned to panic. “Um—no, no. I think you have us confused,” you blurted out, shifting awkwardly as Zoro gave you a look.

“Yeah, we’re just regular citizens of Dressrosa,” he added, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Bartolomeo was undeterred, bouncing with excitement. “May I just say you two are so cute together! The power couple of the Pirate Era!”

The world seemed to pause as you and Zoro exchanged glances, the fierce tension shifting to something strange and unspoken. You watched his eyes soften, only for a moment before hardening again. 

“Oh- No, we’re not a couple,” you protested.

“But you two are my OTP!” Bartolomeo exclaimed, looking devastated. 

“Listen, pal, I don’t know what that means, but she hates me,” Zoro huffed, gesturing toward you.”

“But… you defend each other in battle! Finish off each other’s foes!” Bartolomeo exclaimed. “And according to the Straw Hat fan club newsletter, it says and I quote: Zoro and Y/N’s secret love is a thing of beauty in this rough worl—”

“Yeah, hate to break it to you,” you interrupted, “but we have not, nor will we ever, be a thing.”

Bartolomeo’s face fell, and he broke out into exaggerated tears. “Oh, this is a tragedy! How could I be so wrong!”

Zoro exhaled, breaking eye contact. “Come on. We don’t have time for this.”

A small smile crept onto your lips as you followed him, muttering, “You’re still going the wrong way.”

OoOoOo

Kin’emon directed the two of you to a narrow alley, muttering something about searching for his friend and promising to return soon. As the sounds of the bustling street faded, silence settled between you and Zoro, thick with an awkward tension neither of you knew how to break. You found yourself overthinking the fanatics' odd assumption—why would he (and others apparently) think that you and the green-haired swordsman made a good match? You stole a glance at him. Sure, you didn’t want to admit it, but the scarred man was ruggedly handsome. But he had such an infuriating personality. With his brooding silences, those ridiculous earrings, and his rippling muscles—wait, what!?

The silence dragged on until, finally, Zoro broke it, pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts. “Tch, don’t listen to that weird guy. He’s got no clue what he’s saying.”

You let out a dry chuckle, “Yeah, seriously. I mean, can you imagine? You and me?”

Zoro smirked, his sharp gaze flicking over to you. “Yeah, right. Total disaster.”

“One of epic proportions,” you agreed, crossing your arms and leaning back against the wall. You turned your head, pretending to be absorbed by the junk lying around, “The world couldn’t handle it.”

A glint of something unguarded flickered in Zoro’s eyes as he stepped closer, his presence shifting from casual to something more intense. “And yet,” he said, his voice a low, teasing rumble, “you’re still here. You haven’t walked away.”

You raised an eyebrow, turning to meet his gaze. “Maybe I just don’t trust you not to get yourself into trouble the second I turn my back.”

He huffed a short laugh, taking another step that brought him close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off his body. “You think I need you to babysit me?”

“Need? No.” Your voice dropped, matching his tone. “But I know for a fact if it wasn’t for me you’d be neck-deep in trouble twice as often.”

A grin curled at the edge of his lips, his eyes flicking down to your lips and then back to your eyes, lingering for just a second too long. “Guess I’d better keep you close then, huh?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart skipped a beat, the atmosphere between you shifting, the sharp tension morphing into something far more dangerous. The unspoken heat you’d tried so hard to ignore suddenly flared, like a fuse catching fire. For a moment, neither of you moved, as if testing how far this would go. But then, something snapped—years of friction, half-buried glances, and barely-concealed bickering finally erupted. He surged forward, and before you could second-guess it, your lips crashed into his.

The kiss was intense, more battle than embrace, a raw clash of defiance and need. Your hands found his broad shoulders, fingers digging into them as his calloused hands cupped the back of your neck, then tangling in your hair. Everything else faded: the noise of the marketplace, the distant shouts of vendors, even the thought of Kin’emon returning. For this moment, it was just the two of you, like fire meeting spilled oil—volatile, explosive, and inevitable.

When you broke apart, both of you were panting, your breaths mingling in the space between you. Zoro’s lips curved into a smirk, his eyes darkened with something that made your pulse race. “You still hate me?” he asked, his voice a husky drawl.

“With a passion,” you growled, trying to steady your breathing.

“Good.” He chuckled, his hand sliding down to grip your ass possessively. With a rough shove, he pinned you harder against the wall, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.” 

Your retort was lost as his lips found yours again, the world outside that narrow alley slipping into oblivion.

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

All Thanks to You - T.Nott

Summary - At first, Theo found her gifts sweet and kind but the longer they went on the more they annoyed him. He had the false assumption that she was chasing after his money and status but he was very wrong. He didn't realize how wrong he was until he overhears her sticking up for him in library.

Pairings - Theo Nott x Fem!Reader

Warnings - Use of Y/N, female reader, profanity, stress

Author's Note - I'm getting through all of my requests slowly but surely, this will probably be my first and last post of the day. I'll try my best to keep banging these out but unfortunately today was my last day of spring break and my vacation from work. Thank you for being patient!

Based off the request by an anon

Expect delays in my posting! My semester has started and I am taking 4 classes! Please be patient with me!

My requests are open!

my masterlist

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

It was almost disgustingly obvious how much she liked Theo, except to the boy himself. It had taken him ages to figure it all out. He thought it was weird at first, he was always getting baked treats, a seat saved, books that he ended up loving and notes sent to him. Then, it started to annoy him, he thought that she was just trying to get to him because of his status and money. That of course wasn’t her intention but he didn’t figure that one out until he overheard a conversation, one revolving around him and all of his flaws and untrue rumors.

He was about to jump in himself until the sweet voice of the girl sending him all of these good things chimed in. 

“That’s not true at all. Theo is so kind and sweet. He cares so much about his friends and only acts cold to people like you because you believe and spread all of these bullshit lies. He’s not rude, he’s not unnerving, he especially isn’t ugly or gross to girls. He’s sweet and kind and loving and a great person and if you can’t see that, then don’t consider me your friend anymore,” She ranted before packing up her books and walking away, not expecting to bump into the boy himself. “Oh shit, I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going, I’ll get out of your way.”

“Wait,” He pleaded, having every expectation of her walking away but she stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, “Thank you for sticking up for me. I know I said your gifts were annoying but I don’t really think that. I honestly thought you were after me for money or to boost your status or something, I shouldn’t have assumed that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. You’re a good person Theo. I’d love to talk more but I really have to go study for the potions exam,” She told him.

“Study with me, I have an O in the class, I can help you.” The smile on her face brightened the room, making his heart skip a beat, a smile finding its way onto his own lips.

“Okay! I know the best spot in the library,” She chirped, grabbing his hand and leading him to the top floor into a quiet corner. The two of them studied together for nearly an hour before she spoke again, “How in the fuck do you make a draught of the living dead again? I can’t remember anything right now, my brain is fried,” She groaned, resting her forehead on crossed arms.

“You need a break, love. Let’s go to the kitchen and get some food from the house elves,” Theo offered.

“Won’t we get in trouble?”

“No, I’m friends with the prefects on duty, let’s go before they change shifts.”

The whole way down to the kitchen, the two were holding hands, neither of them had even noticed until Draco stopped them in the stairwell leading down to their destination. “What do we have here? The infamous Theodore Nott holding hands with his admirer?”

“Oh shove off, we need you to cover the kitchen while we get food,” Theo told his friend, still holding onto her hand even though they were caught.

“What’s in it for me?” Draco asked.

Before Theo could open his mouth, Y/N answered, “Pumpkin pasties, green apples and cauldron cakes. I see you eating those a lot so I assume you like them?”

“You assume correctly, fine, let’s go lovebirds.”

Holding up her end of the promise, she got Draco his favorite sweets, snacking with the two Slytherin boys. The blond boy had taken a liking to her, finding her genuine, funny and observational. The bond between Theo and Y/N had grown and only got stronger by the day. It was no surprise to any of their friends when they started dating not long after studying together. 

They continued to have study dates until the day of the Potions exam. She was extremely nervous and Theo was nervous for her. They didn’t get to see each other until dinner that day. Taking her usual spot next to Theo at the Slytherin table, casually sliding a paper to him. He furrowed his eyebrows before opening the paper, the red ink stared him right in the face.

“You got an O?! Bellissima, that's amazing! I’m so proud of you!” Theo exclaimed as he hugged her tightly, placing kisses on her head.

“All thanks to you, handsome,” She smiled at him.

Theo kissed her deeply on her lips causing groans and gags around them. Neither of them having a care in the world other than her O.

[kaciidubs]

Surprise! | Felix x Reader

❣ In collaboration with @onmykneesforchanlix ❣

❣ Summary: Felix was a cat shifter, living most of his days in his cat form due to unfortunate living circumstances. That is, until you found him one rainy night and his life changed for the better. Years later, he decides that it's time to finally reveal himself to you fully. ❣ ❣ Word Count: 5.5k+ ❣ Warnings: Cat Shifter! Felix, slight Dom! Reader, Pussy Drunk! Felix, smut, slight angst [Felix's life before Reader], fluff, first time as a semi-couple, feminization [Felix wears Reader's clothes], unprotected sex, decryphilia, creampie, begging, praise, desperate/needy love making ❣ ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣ ❣ Additional Tags: Felix is referred to as kitten, Lix, Lixie, fluffy ending ❣ ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣

Felix’s early life wasn’t much to brag about; growing up in an era where animal shifters were being seen less as a threat and more as an equal was a blessing in disguise, but that didn’t mean he had it easy. There was still discrimination, prejudice, and general unease, and even as a cat shifter he wasn’t free from any of them; losing his part time job due to “staff overflow” and his tenant kicking him and multiple shifter families out of their apartment building due to “remodeling”.

His roommates at the time were able to fall back on family members or other friends, but he was by himself in the city, and he didn’t feel comfortable asking them if they could house him until he got back on his feet. So, he tried getting by on his own until he could find new roommates or someone willing to host shifters.

He was able to stay a few nights at a hostel, applying to any place that had a hiring sign while earning his keep by helping the owner of the hostel - however, he wasn’t able to keep it that way for long. Which is how he found himself surviving in his cat form, easier to maintain throughout the night as he slept in worn out boxes off the side of the road.

Then, one rainy night changed his life for the better - the night he met you.

You, who was walking the dark, rainy streets with a broken umbrella and your face tucked as far into your jacket as it could go.

You, who stopped in your tracks when you saw him sleeping in that small, water damaged cardboard box just outside of an alleyway.

You, who scooped him up and tucked him into the free space of your jacket before taking him back to your apartment with the promise of taking care of him for the night.

Well, what started out as one night turned into two years and counting by your side as your loving little orange cat, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way - save for a few key things. The major one being he had yet to reveal his human form to you while you were home.

He figured that you had a feeling about him not being only a cat, from the way he participated in your morning routines with his own tasks - you doing your hair was him grooming himself, you brushing your teeth was him having a dental treat until you left so he could shift and actually brush his teeth - to the way you still had an unopened 16-count of cat food because he preferred eating the dinner you had over any form of gourmet tuna.

But, you never mentioned anything about it, you never even made a sly passing comment despite the way he’d participate in your one-sided conversations with too many coincidental meows or glares whenever you said something he didn’t agree with.

You even wrote out the alphabet on a sheet of paper so he could “pick his own name”, using his small paws to walk over the letters ‘F’ ‘E’ ‘L’ ‘I’ ‘X’ before rubbing his face against the side of yours with a content purr.

All of these events culminated into this moment now, where he was currently sitting on your bed in his human form freshly showered and naked as the day he was born; the pajama shirt you wore that night laid out in front of him.

Tonight was the night Felix was going to show you the real him, the him he hid from you out of fear that you wouldn’t want to keep him around anymore, fear that he’d go from your kitty ‘Lixie’ to just another alley cat.

His plan was simple, really; dress in your clothes to give him the comfort and confidence he needed and surprise you once you got back from work, apologize for not letting you know the night you brought him home, and hope that the kindness you've shown him for the past two years would continue further.

Orange tail swishing behind him with anticipation, he wasted no time in pulling the pink shirt onto his arms before slipping it over his head, quickly engulfing himself in your warm scent and soft cotton.

Smoothing out the top, his soft brown eyes landed on the piece of clothing he forgot he even took out, his human ears turning red at the sight of your white panties laying bright against the blanket.

He didn’t have any clothes at your place, usually reserving himself the grace of either wandering around nude or donning one of your hoodies and a pair of underwear he’d make sure to wash himself before you got home; and this plan had the added point of him wearing something to cover his exposed lower half.

Hence, the white lace panties with pink bows that he was sliding up his pale legs and tucking himself into, finishing off his look for the night.

Perfect.

Sneaking a peek at himself in the mirror near your closet, he felt a low rumble in his chest - the shirt slightly swamped him and the panties’ waistband sat comfortably below his tail to not cause irritation or annoyance, this couldn’t have worked out more perfectly in his favor.

A soft yawn tumbled from his lips and he glanced at the small digital clock you kept on the nightstand; a little less than an hour and a half until you came home, which meant he had more than enough time for a quick nap before his plan would go into effect.

Stretching his arms to the sky with an even bigger yawn, he allowed himself to curl up against your sheets and close his heavy eyelids - content purrs escaping him with each exhale.

“Lixie! I’m home!”

His ears perked up at your voice and he stretched with a big yawn, slowly rolling himself into a sitting position and tiredly rubbing his eye until his brain finally kicked into gear; you were home. 

A rush of excitement ran through him as he scrambled onto his knees, hands seated in his lap as he stared at the door in anticipation - his heart thumping hard in his chest. 

What were you going to say? Would you still like him as a human? What if he wasn’t pretty enough in his human form? 

His ears drooped as he deflated, small hands now anxiously playing with the hem of the shirt that was supposed to be his comfort. He heard you shuffle around the adjacent room, mentally going through the routine he’d seen you do time and time again; keys in dish, shoes at the door, work bag on the chair in the living room. 

“Lixie? Where are you, kitten?” 

The closer your footsteps grew toward the bedroom door, the more he wished he could shrink in on himself - it wasn't too late to change back, was it? No, no, he wanted you to see him - he wanted to show you the real him.

“Lixie?”

Where was he? He usually greeted you at the door, meowing loudly at you while rubbing himself at your legs. Maybe he was still asleep, curled up on his favourite place, your pillows? 

You quietly made your way to the bedroom, your hands resting on the handle for a second before opening the door.

 Nothing could’ve prepared you for what happened next.

“Lix-” Your eyes met a familiar warm brown set, but that wasn’t what stopped you in your tracks. 

No, it was the fact that said eyes belonged to a blond man currently sitting in the middle of your bed, dressed in your sleep shirt and nothing else - at least, that’s what you could assume from the sight of his bare thighs. 

Maybe you should have screamed - should have shouted curses and threatened to call the police but all you could do was blink at the man. Opening your mouth to say something, the words get stuck in your throat, making you swallow thickly while your eyes lingered on the man in front of you. 

Felix felt small under your gaze, shy even. He nervously pulled the shirt to cover his legs when he noticed you staring at his bare thighs. 

Maybe this wasn't a good idea, he thought to himself. 

He wanted to say something but couldn’t think of anything - any words or sounds dying before they even reached his throat. His eyes met yours when he looked up, and he noticed a small smile forming on your lips. 

“Lixie?” You questioned quietly.

He felt his ears twitch at the sound of his name, catching the notes of joy adding sunlight to the word; his tail swishing in response. You seemed to like his reaction because you took a small step away from the doorway before rushing toward where he was sitting.

“Oh... my little Lixie! Look at you- I can’t believe it- My cute little kitten is a shifter!” 

Felix felt himself blush at the awe in your tone, his hands tightening against the hem of your shirt.

“Lixie,” you hummed as you ran your fingers through his soft blond hair, “you’re so pretty.” 

Felix’s lips curled up into a smile, and when your fingers found that spot behind his ears - scratching just the way he liked - he couldn’t help but start purring. 

The first word to leave his lips is your name - his voice a bit raspy since he hadn't spoken properly in months.

“Why didn't you show yourself sooner, kitty?” You cooed, tracing your fingertips down the side of his face and stopping at the soft curve of his chin, smiling when he leaned into your hold. 

“I…” He swallowed thickly, nearly shocking himself at how deep his voice was, “I wanted to but... I didn't think you'd like me anymore…” He couldn't help but hold your gaze, addicted to the soft sparkle in your irises as you studied him.

“Why would you think that, hm? You're my Lixie,” you whispered, cupping his face in your hands, your eyes never leaving his, “You’re my pretty kitty…” You gave him a reassuring smile, your thumbs running along his reddened cheeks. 

With the way you looked at him with so much love and care, he couldn’t help but blush - his cheeks dusted in a pretty pink.

“Look at you,” a soft laugh fell from your lips, and he suddenly wondered what it would be like to feel them against his own, “wearing my shirt? Were you trying to turn yourself into a gift for me?” 

A hot flush ran down his back, goosebumps rising on his skin as he remembered what exactly he's wearing. 

“N-Not just your shirt…” He stammered, gaze falling in embarrassment from the guilty admission.

“What do you mean?” You questioned, and instead of answering you, Felix leaned back and lifted up the shirt - not all the way, but just enough to reveal the panties he stole out of your drawer. 

You sucked in a breath at the sight, pink little bows decorating the white lace he was wearing. It was your favourite pair, Felix knew that. 

That's why he chose them. 

They were a bit small for him, but he didn't mind - he just hoped that you were okay with it too.

“Lix…” His name left you in a breathless sigh, a hand falling from his cheek to graze up his thigh, but no further than that. “You really turned yourself into a gift for me, huh?” 

You knew how the lace fit your body, but the sight of the white patterns hugging his slim hips and slightly bulging over his dick had your brain whirring. You didn't miss the soft whimper that fell from his lips, or the way his legs shifted toward your touch.

Felix bit down on his lip when he felt your fingertips ghosting over his inner thigh, barely touching him. He spread his legs a bit, hoping you’d get the hint and touch him - but you didn't, your fingers running up his thigh and stopping before they reached the lace, then down again.

“You know... it really makes me sad you didn’t shift for me sooner.” His eyes widened slightly, bottom lip jutting out in a pout until you continued, “We could’ve had so much fun way sooner than this.” There was a sharp glint in your eye that made him whine, his hands tugging the shirt higher up his stomach.

“I’m... sorry,” he mumbled, trying to hide his face with the shirt until you stopped him. 

“It's okay Lix,” your hands came up to tug on his shirt, “why don’t you take this off for me, hm?” 

He nodded, wasting no time in pulling it over his head and throwing it next to the bed. 

“So pretty,” you whispered, brushing his hair out of his face.

Your fingers grazed against his ears in the process and he moaned, the melodic sound melting into a purr that you practically felt vibrating from his chest. 

“They’re still sensitive even in your human form…” Humming, you caressed your thumb along the base, “Aren’t you just full of surprises?” 

“P-Please,” he whimpered, his hands itching to reach out to you from where they were planted on the bed, “it feels so... good.”

“Feels good, yeah? I can make you feel even better... if you let me.” You moved your hand from his ears to his chest, gently pushing him back to lay on the bed. 

Your fingers brushed over his nipple and he gasped at the sudden rush coursing through his body. 

Eyes flickering down from his eyes to his lips, you leaned in closer with a soft whisper just barely grazing the pink skin, “Kiss me, kitten.”

Felix lifted his head so fast he was shocked he didn’t accidentally headbutt you as your lips met. 

It was different, so different from the way you would kiss the top of his head when he’s curled in your arms in his cat form, yet the softness remained the same. He didn’t think it could get any better until he felt your lips part, and when your thumb and finger pinched his nipple, he gasped and your tongue was ghosting against his own.

He let his tongue run along yours, humming lowly in the back of his throat. His cock was already hard and straining against the lace; the tip leaking pre cum, forming a small wet patch. 

It hurt, but Felix didn’t know how to ask you for more. He tugged on your shirt, wanting you closer.

You couldn’t help but laugh against his lips, pulling back just enough so that your noses remained touching. “Eager little kitten, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, baby.” 

Pecking his lips one last time, you sat up - kneeling just above his lap - and pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it where the pajama shirt laid. 

Felix’s eyes widened - he’d seen you in your underwear before, sure, but taking in your body in his human form had fireworks going off in his head. You looked soft - he knew you was soft - but he needed to feel you with his hands, his mouth, anything you allowed.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, staring at every bit of exposed skin, wetting his dry lips with his tongue. 

You laughed shyly, trying to cover yourself with your hands, “Don’t look at me like that. You've seen me in underwear before - hell, you’ve even seen me naked!" 

Felix felt the blush spreading on his face - it was true, he had seen you naked, too many times to count, but that was when he was in his cat form; sitting on the counter in the bathroom when you took a shower or a bath, never leaving you out of sight.

“I-I know! But-” This time, he allowed his hands to touch your forearms, trailing up the skin to your wrists, then the backs of your hands, “I... I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to see you like this- touch you like this.” He kept his touch strictly on your hands, resting over the bra that kept the sight of his dreams hidden away. “I want... C-Can I see more? Please, I wanna see you.”

“You could've had me like this months ago, kitten.” Your tone was smug, but you still reached behind you to unclasp your bra - not taking it off just yet, “It’s okay, you can touch me.” Your hands reached for his as you guided them to your bra straps. "Help me take this off?" 

Felix swallowed thickly, his hands shaking a bit from how nervous he was. He didn't want to fuck this up. This might be his only chance.

His fingers grazed the straps and he immediately decided he hates the texture - too rough, no wonder why you were always rolling your shoulders once it was off. Eyebrows furrowing at the offensive clothing, he slowly pulled them down the curves of your shoulders and had to physically fight back the moan growing from the way the bra went slack - your breasts threatening to spill from the cups already. 

“Keep going, Lixie, take it all the way off for me.”

Felix pulled it down completely before throwing it aside, his hand itching to touch you. Reaching out hesitantly, he lets a finger run over the soft flesh of your bare breasts; goosebumps spreading over your skin as you send him a reassuring smile and a nod, giving him the okay to continue. 

He doesn’t waste any more time cupping your breasts with his hands, squeezing them carefully.

If he thought kneading his own blankets was heaven, then this was damn near nirvana; your breasts resting in the palms of his hands - or at least, what he could fit - while the rest squished up with each flex of his hands. 

“You-You’re so soft... oh, fuck, you’re so soft.” 

You shivered at the curse falling from his angelic lips - the thought of your kitten, your Lixie, so smitten over what he’d seen time and time again making your core throb. “Softer than that blanket I spent so much money on for you?” You teased, laughing at the pout that overtook his lips. 

“That’s different! You... You feel better than any blanket or any pillow I've ever laid on.”

“You’re so cute, I’m just teasing you.” Taking his hands away from you, you pinned them down on the mattress near his head, leaning over him with a teasing grin.

It took all the strength Felix had to not cum right then and there; your breasts were right in front of his face, giving him the chance to kiss the soft flesh before circling his tongue around one of your nipples.

You moaned at the sudden attack, your hands tightening around his wrists while his mouth toyed with the hardening bud. Without having to be told, he released your tit with a wet pop before latching onto the second, making a sound you couldn’t tell was a moan or a purr. 

“Lixie.” You moaned, and if Felix's eyes weren’t shut you would’ve seen them roll to the back of his head. You barely touched him and he was already at his peak, wondering how it was even possible to feel anything better than this.

He bucked his hips up, moaning loudly at the delicious friction and the waves of pleasure running through his body. His eyes were closed tightly, mouth agape with breathless pants rolling past his lips. 

He was so close, he could almost taste the orgasm on his tongue but he fought against it. He didn't want to cum like this, not yet. 

"Please," he whimpered, not sure what he was even asking for.

“Keep your hands up here, Lixie, okay?” You slowly sat up, trying not to laugh at the needy whine that settled in his throat when your chest no longer surrounded his head. “Keep them up there or else I’ll stop, understand?” 

He nodded senselessly, eyes glossy and chest flushed pink; he nearly forgot how to breathe when he saw your hands go to your jeans, popping the button open and sliding the zipper down. He nearly cried when you shifted off of him, only for you to shush him with a tut of your tongue. 

“Gotta take my pants off first Lixie, I told you I can make you feel even better, and I will.”

You turned away from him, pulling your jeans teasingly slow over the curve of your ass before pulling them off completely - repeating the same process with your underwear. 

Felix couldn't help but stare at your ass, almost drooling at the sight. His hands moved to reach out to touch you but he stopped himself before you could notice, repositioning them next to his head in hopes of going unnoticed.

Leaving your clothes in a puddle by your feet, you quickly climbed your way back onto the bed and over Felix’s lap - not sitting down just yet. “You know, as much as I said you missed out on showing me the real you before, I can’t wait to see what I’ve been missing out on too.” You danced your fingers up his stomach and to his chest teasingly, watching as his hands fisted the sheets underneath him. “I’ll take good care of you, kitten.” 

Felix watched as you lowered yourself so settle in his lap and a sharp moan escaped him,  the warmth of your pussy settling over the thin lace he still had on.

He fought the urge to look down between your bodies, wanting to take a peek but instead looking up at you, trying to grind his hips up against yours. “Please... I- I can’t.. I want,” he stuttered out, “it hurts.”

“Use your words Lixie,” you hummed, a light roll of your hips nearly sending him to the stars, “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you, but you have to use your words, kitten.”

“Please, I want... no, need you to touch me,” he breathed “‘m so hard it hurts." He thrusted his hips up, groaning softly, “Fuck, you feel so good,” eyes fluttering shut with another thrust, he bites back a whimper, “please, I’ll be good for you... just touch me.”

A soft smile graced your lips, “That’s my good kitty.” Lifting yourself onto your knees, you wasted no time in tugging your lace panties down his hips and the swell of his ass, “Such a dirty kitty, making a mess in my panties, huh?” 

All he could do was moan wantonly, his dick finally free from the tight confines as he eagerly kicked them down his legs and off the bed.

You leaned back over him, pressing your lips to his in a slow kiss and letting your thumb run over his slit to collect the pre cum. Felix moaned into the kiss, parting his lips for you to slip your tongue in. Your tongues touch as Felix cupped your face in his hands, not wanting to part not even for oxygen - he doesn't want to even think about the kiss ending, pouring all of his emotions into it as if it were the last thing he could do in his human form.

Your free hand covered one of his own, squeezing it gently as you parted from the kiss. “I’ll let you slide for now,” you whispered, your lips still brushing against his, “but next time I'll have to punish you.” 

Felix felt you shift above him, but before he can register anything, the warmth of your walls are enveloping the head of his dick. "O-Oh! Oh fuck!"

You placed your hands on his chest and sank down on him completely, hissing a bit at the stretch. “Fuck kitten, you feel so good,” moaning softly, you wiggled your hips, “feel so full.” 

He fisted the sheets underneath him, throwing his head back, mouth agape in a silent moan. “S-So warm," he gasped as you lifted your hips up and sank down on him again, your walls clenching around him. Suddenly, his hands flew to your hips to stop you from moving, “Please wait, fuck- I'm not gonna last long.” Your eyes met and he sucked in a shaky breath, “Shit, you feel so perfect around me. Better than what I’ve imagined…”

“You”ve thought about fucking me?” Your light giggling made your pussy flutter around him and he nearly sobs at the feeling. “What a naughty little kitten I have - makes me wonder what else goes on in that pretty head of yours.” With your hands settled on his chest, you slowly rocked your hips against his, moaning at the way his dick massaged your insides. “Let me show you what the real thing is really like, are you ready for that, Lixie?”

“Oh god, please show me,” he whined, his grip on your hips tightening slightly. 

Moans spilled from his lips as you moved your hips teasingly slow, your fingertips digging into his skin, leaving behind small crescent marks. 

Overwhelmed from the pleasure, his moans quickly melted into whimpers and pleas. He doesn't hold back, making you smirk, “Let it all out kitten. Am I making you feel good?”

He nodded his head frantically, unable to stop the moans tumbling from his kiss bruised lips. 

“Good boy, such a good boy, Felix.” 

He didn't even have the chance to react to the sound of his full name falling from your lips when you rose slowly before dropping back down. You were riding him, the person he loved so much he thought his heart would never beat the same - he felt tears begin to swell in his eyes as his hands followed your pace.

“Kitten? Hey, are you alright?” Your voice filled with worry as you immediately stilled your hips, your hands reaching up to gently caress his cheeks, “am I hurting you?” Concern grew in the pit of your stomach as you watched a single tear roll down his cheek, reacting quickly to catch it with your thumb. 

Felix shook his head, his gaze avoiding yours.

“Lixie, I need you to answer me - do you need me to stop?” 

His watery eyes snapped to your own as he choked back a sob, “N-No! Don’t- Please- I... I feel so good, I can’t- I love it- I-I love yo-” 

Soft hiccups broke his sentence into rambled parts, and it all suddenly clicked; he was crying from pleasure, crying for you. 

“Oh... My sweet kitten…” You cooed softly, catching more stray tears with a swipe of your thumb before leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose. “I love you too, do you wanna keep going?”

More tears spilled from his eyes at your words and loving actions - you loved him back, he couldn't be happier than he was in this moment. 

His favourite human loves him the way he loves you. 

“Yes please... make love to me... please.” He whispered, hands wiping away the last few tears that were still building in his eyes. He gave you a watery smile, eyes scrunching up and face exuding a brightness you never thought was possible on a person. 

He looked so pretty under you, cheeks tinted pink and eyes looking up at you, so full of trust, so full of love.

Your heart fluttered and you had to stop yourself from smothering him with butterfly kisses around his beautiful face - he still needed you, and you were going to do what you promised you would; take care of your kitten. 

Taking his hands from your hips, you threaded your fingers with his before pinning them at the sides of his head, shifting your position slightly. “Don’t worry about anything else, Lixie - let go of everything and focus on me.” With his nod of approval, you started to ride him once more, the new change in angle letting his dick caress the front of your pussy.

“O-Oh my god,” he moaned, his eyes rolling back as you moved your hips, grinding them down. “‘s so good, please don't stop,” Felix slurred his words, so lost in the pleasure - he was sure he’d died and gone to heaven. 

You picked up the pace and leaned forward, letting your noses touch before connecting your lips in a short, sweet kiss.

“You're so good Lixie,” you panted against his lips, squeezing his hands tighter, “fill me up so well, so perfect, my perfect kitten.” 

He moaned at your words, squeezing his eyes to focus on keeping his orgasm at bay - he couldn’t let it end so soon, he wouldn’t. 

“Are you close, baby?” You mused, keeping the pace of your hips with ease, your lips brushing against his ear. Felix’s cock was hitting your g-spot with every move of your hips now and you could feel your own orgasm slowly approaching. 

“I-I can hold it!! Wanna be a good kitten for you, want you to cum first,” he pouted, thrusting his hips up to meet yours. He freed his hands from your grasp, moving them to hold your hips as he continued to thrust into you. You lightly grazed your teeth against his earlobe, nibbling on it before pressing a kiss to his neck.

“P-Please,” He whined, tilting his head to the side to grant you more access to his skin, “I-I’m gonna- I want you-” He felt like his brain was on overdrive, every nerve ending burning at every point your bodies were connected. His right hand sandwiched between your bodies to where his cock was currently drilling into you, fingers frantically searching for what he knew would help you come before him. 

You panted against his jaw, nipping at the pale skin lightly, “To the left baby, m-move your hand to the left.” 

Obeying your direction, he shifted his wrist and his fingers landed on a soft, slippery nub that made your pussy clench. 

“F-Fuck! There, right there baby!”

His fingers moved experimentally over the nub, circling around it and you moaned in response against his jaw, "You're doing so well kitten, making me feel so good." 

Felix continued to circle his fingers against your clit, drinking in the moans that spilled from your lips. He was determined to make you come first, moving his fingers a bit faster, “Good like this?” 

Nodding hastily, you connected your lips to his neck again and sucked on the skin, the desire to mark him swelling inside of you - you wanted to mark him as yours.

Following the change in tide, you were now the one wantonly moaning against his skin, riding him that much faster and a bit more sloppier. “‘S so good, F-Felix- it’s so good!” 

His heart skipped a beat and he quickened his pace, digging his feet into the mattress to fuck into you faster. “C-Come for me? Please- I need you to come for me, c-come with me-” He was so hard it hurt, his stomach clenching and heaving with each ragged breath - he felt himself tear up as he begged whatever higher power was listening to let you come first, please let you come first.

“F-Fuck Felix, right there!” You moaned out, quivering above him,  “G-Gonna come!”

Your orgasm rapidly approached as you held onto him, his frantic thrusts bouncing your body against his own. His fingers dug into your skin, and he hoped that they were going to leave a bruise - a marker of his desires finally coming true. You bit down on his neck, tongue running soothingly over the marks left on his skin.

It only took a handful of thrusts before you were shaking above him, your moans growing in volume as you wrangled your hand free from his to tangle in his hair. “Lixie! Felix! I'm c- oh god, I'm coming!" 

The grip you had on his dick grew tighter and he groaned, pace faltering as you came around him with a loud cry barely muffled against his neck. 

“T-Tight- S-So tight, I can’t-" He was getting dizzy, both hands now coming to wrap behind your back and hold you as close as he possibly can. “Gonna c-come, wanna f-fill you, please? L-Let me- s-so warm, please, please!”

It took a second for you to register his words, head dizzy from your orgasm, before you nodded frantically, "O-Of course kitten, go ahead - breed me.” You whisper and it's all Felix needed to hear. 

With one more solid thrust he emptied himself inside you with a loud cry, his hips stuttering as he rode out his orgasm. His glazed over eyes found yours and you smiled at each other, noses bumping as you leaned in for a bliss-filled kiss. 

Your lips touched softly in a short peck - soft and sweet and all you both ever needed after an event like that.

“Good kitty,” you giggled, gently scratching your nails against his scalp, feeling the rumble of his purrs vibrate against your chest. “Let’s go get cleaned up, yeah?” 

Felix couldn’t help but whine, not ready to let you go as he squeezed his arms around your sweaty body, “Can... Can we stay like this a little longer? I like holding you...like this.” 

You beamed at the blush taking over his face and nodded, “Of course, Lixie - hold me as long as you want, it’s only fair for bow often I’ve held you.” Tucking your face into the warmth of his neck, you murmured, “From now on, you can hold me as much as you want, my sweet kitten.”

❣ This one's been in the works for a while, but I'm so honored to have done this collab with my lovely Miu! I hope you enjoyed reading and by all means, leave some nice words for her because she's genuinely an amazing writer! Love you lots @onmykneesforchanlix ❣ ❣ Any type of feedback is appreciated! Whether it be a simple like, reblog, or keyboard smash and the most essay-like comment, feel free to share your thoughts. ❣

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR NINETEEN

in which everything changes.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, smut (p in v), almost shower sex, talk of male masturbation, oral (f receiving), upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 7.7k+

→ a/n: big shout out to @myosotisa for beta-reading this chapter so that for once, it's not unedited, and it's not just between me and god.

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

19:00 ─────────────ㅇ── 24:00

DINGUS: so either these two are getting along REALLY well or they truly still hate each other’s guts

NANCE: Why do you say that?

DINGUS: when i called to make sure they weren’t dead, it sounded like they were arguing over the line. 

BIRDIE: woah woah woah, hold on. dingus. are you telling me you just SPIED on the lovebirds? or did this ‘fight’ happen during your conversation?

DINGUS: it wasn’t spying! eddie answered and rushed off the line, but it sounded like he forgot to hang up. i was just… curious.

NANCE: No, you were SPYING on them. 

ARGYLE 😎: what did they say, dude? 

BIRDIE: yeah let’s drop the morality bullshit – what’d you hear, my lovely oblivious spy? 

DINGUS: @BIRDIE NOT A SPY. 

DINGUS: but it just sounded like eddie asking her if she was, and i quote, “fucking kidding him”. He sounded weird when he was talking to me, too.

BIRDIE: the most romantic words to ever be spoken. truly. 

NANCE: Was that all you heard?

DINGUS: yeah, i hung up after that. why?

ARGYLE 😎: should’ve stayed on the line.

BIRDIE: what he said.

JOHNNY BOY: Do you people have no morals? 

HOUR NINETEEN – 10:00 AM

It becomes glaringly obvious to you that your comment had been a little too spot on after several minutes of waiting for Eddie to return. 

You hadn’t expected him to really leave you high and dry after that, to just go and take care of himself rather than include you in that process. Honestly, you thought the two of you were finally past hiding behind closed doors. But clearly, you had been wrong. Very, very wrong. And now, the consequences of your own actions were mocking you; there was an insistent, uncomfortable, unignorable burn in the pit of your stomach, and every shift of your thighs that had your underwear grazing your clit had you desperate, nearly mewling and arching your back. The longer you laid on that couch and realized what Eddie was currently doing, the more hot and bothered you grew. 

Fuck him. You’re about ten seconds away from taking care of your own problem right here, right now, on this god forsaken couch. 

Your ears perk involuntarily for any and all noises that may come from the hallway, but five minutes of silence tells you that Eddie had learned his lesson. He wasn’t going to be loud again. 

Fuck him. 

At least if he was falling apart by his own hand, he should have the decency to let you hear such, obviously. If he was going to finish what the two of you started alone with just him and his hand and the polished porcelain of his bathroom, you would have at least appreciated something to get you going, to urge your imagination to roam free through a conglomeration of both fantasies and memories. But, no – the man was so silent, you were beginning to fear he might be dead. 

Maybe he was dead. Death by blue balls. Good. Fuck him.

Your thighs squeeze together once more of their own free will, and you throw your head back violently to groan at the persistent throbbing. You couldn’t even be angry at him, not in a genuine sense, because you had insisted on talking rather than continuing whatever Deftones had started. What a dumb, idiotic, catastrophic decision. What a painful hill to die on. What a shit move on your part. 

It doesn’t take long before you make the choice to stop laying there, wallowing in your misery. If you weren’t going to take care of your problem, and if you were regretting your choices so desperately, you were an adult. He was down the hall, he was here for now, and there was nothing stopping you from just marching up to the door. This wasn’t anything like the beginning hours – the man had seen you bare before him far too many times for you to be shy. He had just been dry humping you like some teenager on his couch. 

No, you didn’t need to have shame right now. At least, not for these last five hours. 

You get up quick enough to make yourself dizzy, swinging your legs and making the soles of your feet connect with the living room floor with resounding slaps. A bit aggressive, and it might startle whoever had the displeasure of living below Eddie, but you don’t care. You have a one track mind, and you force your body into action before you can chicken out. 

You have him. At some wild capacity, the man behind the bathroom door is yours. Whether it be temporary, whether it had started before this night or would last beyond this experience, it was still a matter of fact. You have him – God, you have him so tightly that you don’t even doubt you’re the one on his mind right now as he does what you’re sure he’s doing behind this door – and it was time to accept that he has you. 

He has had you for a while, you realize a few steps away from the bathroom. The moment he had you laughing at his side in some smokey bar all those moons ago, he had first caught you in his web. You hate that it took this long, that it took this moment that should be laced with embarrassment, to let it all settle into acceptance. Like rubble of a destroyed building, the dust is clearing and all you can see is him. Him, with his stupid fucking dimples. Him, with his wide shoulders. Him, with all his twisted words and confusing actions. He’s had you in his grasp – it’s the only way anyone would have been able to get under your skin like he has this past year. 

“Eddie?” you call out as you rap your knuckles on that wooden door, a few too many times for good measure. Your ears strain now that you’re closer, thinking you might catch subtle sounds out of him. Heavy breaths, slick skin, mute whimpers. Anything.

You get nothing for a solid ten seconds.

And then, you hear him clearing his throat, obnoxiously so, before answering, “Y-Yeah?” 

Unsure. He’s stuttering, and the footing of his words is unstable. You were fucking right. 

“Are you…” you start, pinching your eyes shut, shooing away that internal wave of heat as your mind runs wild and imagines him behind the door. The way he’d be naked, the way his fist would curl around the base of his cock, the way his tip has never failed to be the exact same shade of pink as his lips- “Are you still alive in there?” 

Because I’m certainly not out here. 

“Oh, me?” he chuckles nervously, “Yeah, I-I’m good. Sorry, just got distracted!” 

By what? you nearly call in response, your dick in your hands? 

You don’t say it outloud. You have some restraint. 

“That’s fine…” you trail off, unsure of what exactly you should say all while biting your tongue. 

Your mind is still reeling for a possible ending for that thought when Eddie calls out, “I’m gonna take a shower, ‘s all. You cool with that?” 

No. No, I’m not fucking cool with that. 

“Oh!” you squeak out instead, “Yeah, yeah. That’s… that’s fine. Sorry, I’ll just…”

You trail off again as you begin to take a few steps back from the door, making your way back to the living room painstakingly slowly. You’ve hardly moved an inch when you hear the shower turn on inside the bathroom, stuttering a few times as the water begins its flow, static rising from the way it splatters into the tub. 

And then it turns off. Mere seconds later, as quickly as the flow of water had begun, the creaking in the pipes cease. You take another step back until your back bumps into the wall of the hallway, across and veered away from the bathroom door – the throbbing between your thighs still irritating and your confusion even more palpable. 

Wasn’t he going to take a shower? Did he just turn it on to get you to walk away? Were you hallucinating just how quickly the seconds were passin-

The bathroom door is suddenly thrown open with Eddie in the middle of calling out your name, those pajama pants hanging dangerously low on his hips. The moment his eyes land on your, his beckoning for you dies in his throat before he has to clear it. “Oh. Uh, hey.” 

Why were you both being so fucking awkward? 

“Hi,” you breathe out, pressing further into the wall. You felt like a child being caught doing wrong, as if he hadn’t been aware of your proximity to the door just moments before. 

Maybe he was going to find it creepy that you had lingered for so long, and were still so close. You don’t know – you can’t think clearly as you look at the bare skin of his chest and try to decipher whether the moisture gathered there is sweat or condensation from the steam of the shower. 

“Sorry, I just-” he cuts himself off this time before a hand reaches up to his hair, now down and unfurled around his shoulders. His palm presses back his bangs and you can see the moment that all the tension of awkwardness finally snaps, “Oh, fuck this. Do you want to shower with me?” 

Once it snaps for him, you feel your own clinging to it release. It slips from between your fingers slowly, and you come to the realization that there’s no heat emitting from the bathroom behind him – that moisture wasn’t from steam, he didn’t even have the water on long enough for it to get that hot. You should have realized that immediately, but your mind was working slowly through the fog. 

“You don’t have to,” you hadn’t answered him fast enough, and you’re watching him backpedal right before your eyes. 

A quick shake of your head and the smile that splits your lips stops all of his backwards movements, makes his head tilt to the side and a smirk graces his features when you finally reply, “I thought you’d never ask.” 

He shifts to the side of the doorway naturally, leaving just enough room for you to brush past him and let your shoulder knock slightly against his chest once you push off the wall eagerly. 

There’s still a puddle of water at the base of the tub, circling the drain as Eddie closes the door behind your entrance. It’s a bit redundant considering you’re the only two here, but you don’t say a word. You just let your eyes trace over the droplets of water racing down his shower curtain, properly focus in on his toothbrush on the sink and the tube of toothpaste beside it curled up over half the length. 

It hits you all at once, how this game of tension is so ridiculous. “We’re so stupid.”

Eddie is shocked by your snort, “Excuse me?” 

“We’re stupid,” you repeat yourself, “Why are we acting like middle schoolers who just held hands? You’ve seen me naked, for fucks sake. We’ve-” you cut off and turn to him abruptly, waving your hands wildly in the space between you two, “We’ve already crossed this line a million times, Eddie. And we just… it’s like, we keep putting one foot on the other side of it, dip our toes into it, and then take it back when it’s all said and done.” 

A boring dance. The two of you were taking part in the most boring dance of tension the world had ever seen, and only the four walls of Eddie’s apartment had the pleasure of being audience to it. 

You expect his laughter to come out in a bark, but it’s subtle instead, face relaxing in realization at what you mean, “Jesus. I- I mean, you’re right. But does that make us stupid? I think it’s kinda cute, personally.”

“Cute?” you lurch forward ever so slightly, grinning with your teeth. Eddie’s eyes squint up a bit from how widely he grins in return at your amusement, “What about this is cute?” 

“The way you keep getting so nervous around me,” Eddie shrugs, killing off the distance between you as he moves in front of you. You straighten up quickly, and he’s fast to tuck the loose strands of your hair behind your ear, “The way I keep getting so nervous around you.” 

“That’s not cute, that’s just… stupid.” 

“Same thing.”

“It definitely isn’t.” 

You’re close enough to kiss him. And you realize easily that this may be your favorite place in the world, toe-to-toe with him and nearly brushing noses, feeling each breath like a huff of wind on the highs of your cheekbones. 

“Agree to disagree,” he whispers before his lips duck down to yours. The hand that had tucked away your strands of hair had never left your face, you realize, palm now cupping your cheek as he tugs you closer to him. 

Warmth spreads across your chest, brings spring to all the vines you’ve been catering to for a year now. Being able to step back and call this for what it was, ridiculous, makes it all a bit easier to bear. 

It’s just his lips against yours, the shower not even running yet, the gasps that emit from both of you serving as a white noise instead. 

“Is this,” he breaks away from you, only pulling back his lips and leaving his forehead resting against yours with his hand still curled on your cheek, “still stupid?” 

“Even more so,” you nod and he moves his head with yours, almost making you laugh more, “So, so stupid.”

More kisses are exchanged, wandering hands trying to find new curves on the other’s body, before Eddie goes through the motions of turning his shower back on. You notice that from the looks of it, he does turn it on as hot as it can get. It occurs to you that these are small details you’d like to know – how hot he prefers his showers, whether he prefers to take them in the morning or at night, what scent of body wash he swears by – and that you only had so much time to learn the answer to not even half of your curiosities. 

Time. Time was not on your side. 

“You know,” you drawl as Eddie finally kicks off his pants, you soon following his lead as if this was nothing. Because it wasn’t. The two of you had been naked before each other. You weren’t two middle schoolers who had just shared a first kiss or held hands – you were two adults who had had sex, who had admitted to being attracted to each other if nothing more, “You never did say what you’re actually doing with the money.” 

“Again with that conversation?” Eddie asks, pausing with his thumbs hooked in the band of his boxers. 

“Again,” you affirm, tossing your shirt into the same corner that his pants had been discarded, “Can you blame me for being curious? Aren’t you curious what I’m doing with my money?” 

He thinks for a second as you strip off your underwear, leaving you completely naked first. “I mean, I sort of am.”

“College,” you supply easily. You don’t even wait for him to properly ask. He purses his lips and you catch the way his eyes sweep over your nude body quickly before he yanks off his last article of clothing, “College, and then all my debt. Then maybe I can start saving like a real adult. Move to some fancy city once I graduate. Make a…” you pause and make a conscious effort to not let your eyes wander as his had, “Make a real life for myself, I guess.”

“You sound so excited.” 

He’s being sarcastic, you know it, but it begs the question – were you excited about the prospective? All you had ever known was school. Your entire personality has been built thus far on being a student.

So what comes next? Settling into some boring nine to five job that hardly satisfies the dreams that were born of your major? Getting underpaid, getting bored with monotony but telling yourself you were satisfied? 

And that doesn’t even scratch the surface of the bigger questions of the future. You haven’t even spared a thought to kids, to getting married, to life past the next two years. 

“I mean… I am,” you shrug and step into the shower first, Eddie following close behind you and listening intently, “It’ll be nice to finally have the damn piece of paper to say ‘hey! I did it!’” 

“But?” he presses, scooting the two of you around in the small space so that he was standing directly beneath the spray of water. His curls flatten against his head immediately. 

“No buts,” you insist. As if you’re trying to convince yourself more of it than him. 

“So that’s all? You just want to get out of here?” he isn’t looking at you as he reaches for a bottle of shampoo, blinking water out of his eyes. 

This conversation is going surprisingly well. 

“Not here specifically,” you clarify. Your chest aches at the thought of just leaving behind all the friends you’d made, the life you had started in this city. The thought of already beginning to preemptively tear it down was enough to dampen your mood worse than the steam of the shower was doing to your hair, “I don’t know. Who cares about the future? What are you doing with your money?” 

He’s about to squirt some of the shampoo into the palm of his hand when you suddenly snatch it from him, holding up a finger and twirling it in a demanding manner. He’s shocked, but he turns for you regardless, even bending his knees as he gets the message. 

He doesn’t question the fact that you’re about to wash his hair. No protests towards something so domestic between previously sworn enemies. 

“I wasn’t lying earlier,” he starts just as you have lathered up your palms and set aside the shampoo on the shower ledge, fingertips digging right into his scalp. Even with the slight bend in his posture, your arms have to stretch to reach the crown of his head, “A new bike or guitar would be nice but– Oh,” a particular scratch of your nails has him faltering in his words, throwing his head back a bit more and humming. The throb, the ache, the burn returns. “Oh, that’s nice.” 

“Keep talking, pretty boy,” you murmur as he hums even louder. 

“Well, I… It’s not a lot of money, y’know? I mean, it is. But it also isn’t. Am I making any sense? Fuck, that feels good,” he stumbles across his point as your fingers continue small circles, and you already know without looking that his eyes have fluttered shut. 

The pit of your stomach can only rally, twisting and tumbling at his satisfaction. Something so domestic and something you had started with sweet intentions was quickly derailing, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. 

You have him. But you don’t have him. The same type of conundrum he faces with the amount of money promised to the both of you if you were to survive these hours. 

“You’re making sense,” you promise with a shy grin you know he can’t see, “Like, I know the money won’t pay off all my debts or college tuition, but it’s a good start. Anyways, as you were saying?” 

Both of you struggle to focus as he continues on, melting even further into your touch, “I dunno. Maybe if I have anything leftover, I’ll send it to my uncle.” 

His voice is strained as he’s occupied with the feeling of your hands against his scalp, and you know it’s a throwaway sentence, but the small detail of his life you’ve been awarded doesn’t go unnoticed.

Uncle? Why uncle? 

“You in debt to your uncle over a bad night of gambling or somethin’?” you try to joke as you finally release your fingertips from his scalp. Your palms come down on his shoulders as you spin him slowly, encouraging him to keep his head tipped back as he lets the water wash away the suds produced. 

Surprisingly, his shampoo doesn’t smell like boy. It’s akin to green apples, maybe something smoother beneath it all like coconut. Something sweet and something innocent. 

Maybe that’s what has him being so open to you as he explains, “I’ll always be in debt to him, but not for gambling. He raised me. My folks… weren’t the best. I owe everything to that man.” 

There are no good words to respond with. You suddenly feel selfish for pushing him to admit it, and for making that joke to begin with. 

But he only cracks open his eyes as the suds are mostly gone, looking at you through squinty eyes as he grins, “Guess I’m the boner killer now, huh?” 

You snort again (fuck, had he always been this funny?) and shake your head, finally glimpsing below his hips. 

Ironic of him to say that he was a boner killer when there he was, harder than ever for you, tip pink and glistening in a taunt towards you. 

You were both going to Hell. You were standing in his shower, talking about his uncle, both far too horny for the topic of conversation. 

“Modern day Bonnie and Clyde, but make it horny,” you manage to get out, still staring at him and resisting the urge to reach out and start something you didn’t know how to finish, “Does talking about money always get you this hard?” 

“Bonnie and Clyde were robbers, not killers,” he corrects you, “And why, yes. How did you know? Do you plan to use this lethal information against me again later?” 

A cavern in your chest screams out, when is later? Later within the next four hours, or later within the next year? Will you ever even give me a chance to use this against you again? 

You laugh along with his joke instead. 

“Absolutely. Also, who the fuck knows that much about Bonnie and Clyde?” 

You make him turn around again, and repeat a similar process with the conditioner. The entire time, you try to not think about the awareness that the same burn in your own gut is alight in him. 

He shrugs a little, bends a little more to encourage your fingertips back to his scalp. It doesn’t work — you’re focusing the conditioner on the drier ends of his curls. “I do.”

“Well, that’s just weird.” 

You work in silence as you finish threading the conditioner through and detangling his hair with just your fingers. You don’t immediately have him rinse it out, and he takes the opportunity to reward you with the same care, the same domesticity. And just as he hadn’t questioned you, you don’t protest when he manhandles you to spin and face your back to him. You let him indulge you in the same massaging motions that you had just pampered him with, let suds of that sweetness surround you as your eyes shut delicately and you lean your head back into his deliberate touches.

Same care, same domesticity, same sensuality. You never thought washing someone’s hair could be something so intimate until his knuckles are between your locks and your back is brushing up against his chest due to limited space.

“It’s not about the money,” he randomly announces to you once the shampoo has been rinsed out and the conditioner takes its place. “I mean, I figured you knew that, but… still thought I’d say.” 

“Figured as much.”

“I also wasn’t pissing,” he continues to overshare, “I know you figured as much there too.” 

Biting your bottom lip to hold back a grin, you keep the rest of your face relaxed as you nonchalantly ask, “No? What distracted you, then?” 

You can feel every deep breath he takes. The expansion of his chest only presses the two of you closer. Soon, you should both rinse out the conditioner. You should stop wasting water. The two of you should get out of this damn confining space and sleep, do something useful, make the most of the final four hours. 

Instead, you’re letting yourself get lost in billows of steam, and teasing him. And maybe that’s something useful for you. 

“You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?” 

You can hear his grin. God, you can hear his grin and those stupid dimples making an appearance without needing to see his face.

“Say what?” you ploy faux innocence. His fingers are still in your hair. He has no reason to continue to comb them through, but they remain there, grazing your scalp and brushing the back of your neck.

His chin meets your shoulder suddenly, his breath on your ear. “What did you call this earlier, sweetheart? I believe you called it… stupid.” 

Right. Stupid. 

Stupid was the ache that resided inside you for him. Stupid was the way your thighs shook from how hard they pressed together from each soft caress of his breath on the shell of your ear. Stupid was the urge to reach your arm around your back and grab onto him, any part of him, and try to pull him as closely as humanly possible — and then some. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

You’re a bad liar. And he loves it.

“Right,” he draws out the single syllable, hands leaving your hair, drifting at sea as they find comfort on your biceps, touch feather light, “You have no idea what I was doing in here. You weren’t staying by the door to see if you could hear me, trying to get a free show.” 

So you had been right in calling the two of you stupid. Neither of you had been very conspicuous. 

“A free show to what?” you keep up the act of innocence and swallow down the delighted hun when his hands move down your arms. You’re fully flush to his chest now, almost to the point of leaning your weight back against him.

“To me touching myself to you,” bold, crass words leave his lips, “To me fucking my fist to the thought of you. Squeezing my fist around my cock, trying to make it feel like that sweet pussy.” 

Your knees nearly buckle. You try to play it cool, “Oh? Is that what you were doing?”

His playful chuckle is the final straw, and his hands now on your waist are the only thing keeping you upright.

“I was.”

“And were you successful?”

How you kept your tone so steady, so even, was lost on you. 

“I wasn’t.”

One hand stays planted on your waist firmly, as if he knows he’s the only thing keeping you from collapsing in this heat between the two of you. The other dares to round to the front of your stomach, fingers splayed and fingertips almost tickling you as he lets them run down the center of your navel. He’s taking his time. Slowly, painfully, his hand travels. Down, down, down. Until his fingertips are grazing right over that fire he built inside you, mere inches from where you need him to touch you most. He has you right where he wants you, and he knows it.

And so he stops. Inches, maybe less, from where your cunt is throbbing for him. 

“Didn’t you say you were good with your fingers?” you’re trying to keep up a cool facade, but it’s becoming useless at this point. Your voice comes out a whine, and your hips subtly buck against empty air to try to encourage his touch lower.

“I did,” he hums directly into your ear. The hand on your waist becomes an arm fully wrapped around your front, and the press of your back to his chest becomes far more intentional. All of it to hold you in place as he moves his hand right over where you want him. He avoids your body’s pleas, and jumps straight to teasing his fingertips over the tops of your thighs. “Wouldn’t you agree?” 

It’s almost funny to remember how flustered he was when he’d first made the comment, how quick he had been to defend it against being something dirtier, only to now be using it against you in anything but an innocent context.

“Please,” the beg falls from your lip as you give up on the game.

It’s a combination of all his gentle touches, the feeling of his curls between your knuckles, the steam that is smothering the two of you without notice, the way you can still feel every damn breath of his. Both through his mouth now softly kissing at the lobe of your ear, and his chest that only presses more tightly to you. That tightening arm around your waist, and the subtle change of position of his knee.

You aren’t expecting it, and your feet slide apart quickly, nearly dropping onto his sweetly placed leg between yours. 

“Please what, sweetheart?” 

You can’t even recall the feeling of hatred you used to get at the nickname. Now, in its place, is something buzzing, something buttery, something contradictory. You’re dizzy with satisfaction from the way he murmurs it directly into your ear. 

“Please touch me,” you gasp when his knee brushes upwards, not quite reaching where you need him. You swear there’s a pulse now, a throbbing cry that would do just about anything to feel those hands on you, “Please, please.” 

You’re losing focus as your thoughts start to fuzz at the edges, suddenly only able to manage the words please and his name.

And it isn’t lost on him. “Look at you. I haven’t even touched you yet, and you’re already going so dumb for me, aren’t you?” 

Your stomach churns, everything in you tightens, and your pride isn’t above dropping yourself down properly onto his knee and grinding. You would if you could — his fucking arm won’t let you.

When you glance down, you realize just how tight his grip is. You can trace each vein along his forearm, catch the white of his knuckles as they curl against you.

He’s holding onto you for dear life, and yet his death grip doesn’t so much as hurt. You only feel safe, you only feel wanted. 

“Please just touch me, Eddie,” you whimper out, not caring about how desperate you sound anymore. You have no shame, no pride, no careful calculations left for the man behind you. 

His hands stop their dance across the apex of your thighs. One moment, you can barely feel his fingertips running over their softness, and the next, it vanishes completely. 

You open your mouth to protest, but all that comes out is a gasp as his fingers are suddenly on your cunt, spreading you apart at a leisurely pace. You move to grab onto his forearm for leverage but he suddenly tsks and stops all of his movements. 

“You can either have me touch you, or you touch me. But you can’t have both, sweetheart. Not right now.” 

Through the haze, you’re unable to use your words to answer, instead cracking your eyes back open and trying to crane your neck to see Eddie properly. But he’s only chuckling into your ear again, arm around your waist tightening. 

“C’mon, baby. Use your words. Which would you rather have?” he taunts, tilting his chin down and letting his nose nuzzle against the peak of your shoulder, lips barely brushing the skin. 

You would have expected to not even catch the subtle feeling of plushness on you right now between your ever-growing frustration and the water still raining down on both of you. But you do; your body is growing acutely aware of every single point of contact between the two of you as the minutes go on. Every inch of your skin is tuned into his touch and where it flows, where it leaves you, where it presses deeper. 

You open your mouth to respond to him, but you can’t. You can’t explain it: there isn’t a tightness in your throat, a pain grasp on your chest, a fear that is swallowing the words whole. It’s the opposite. All of your taut strings have gone slack, waves of surrendering to him having overcome all of your deepest anxieties. In this moment, amongst the white noise of a shitty apartment shower, all that there exists is him. The time limit slips away, the bet is a thing of the past, and the road taken to bring you both here is completely forgotten. 

His touch is able to remain light when he decides to turn you in his arm, the grip once around your waist now pressing into your lower back as you face him. You’re completely malleable for him to do as he wishes. 

Facing him, you watch all of the amusement and cockiness melt away from his features. His smirk goes soft and his face falls in awe, mouth parted as he takes in that look in your eyes. He knows. He knows that in this moment, you are completely defenseless and utterly his. 

You watch all the air leave his lungs, and feel the consequential breath that releases hit the bridge of your nose due to the proximity. “You really are cock drunk for me right now, aren’t you? I haven’t even given it to you yet and you’re just… gone.” 

If you weren’t completely under his spell at this moment, you would have burned with embarrassment down to the bone. 

You just nod. 

With this revelation, his grip on you completely transforms. It’s not just a matter of keeping you upright, but a matter of keeping you tethered to him. As if he’s afraid that the moment he lets go, he loses you. 

If you could find the words, you’d assure him that he wouldn’t. You weren’t something so fleeting, so passing. 

Without words, all you can do is show him. So you press up onto your tip-toes and kiss him. Hard, then soft. Fervently, then patiently. Achingly, and then assuredly. Every flash of contradiction between the two of you and all that has accumulated goes into the kiss as you let him find his breath again, solely by stealing yours. 

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs against your lips, before his nose rubs against the tip of yours as it begins a journey. Across your cheek, down your jaw, into the crook of your neck. You feel spouts of warm water trickle over his collarbones and against your own. 

This time, you do have the words for him. Or rather, the word for him.

“You.”

There’s no other way to put it. You just want him. 

He pulls back and stares directly into your eyes, his own brown ones swarming with varied emotions. You’re finally able to start deciphering some of them – lust, want, surprise – but not quite all of them yet. 

Before you realize what’s happening, he’s sinking to his knees. Somehow, he’s twisted you so that your back meets the cool tile of the wall, careful in watching the way it supports you during the entirety of his descent. 

He doesn’t say a word, his eyes doing all the talking necessary through wet lashes as he guides you to balance a foot on the edge of the tub and hook your knee onto his shoulder. Just as you realize what he’s doing, his mouth is on your hot cunt. 

For all the talk and thoughts about just how good his fingers were, you seemed to have forgotten just how good his mouth was. 

His tongue works away at your clit, tracing patterns before alternating to suck it sharply between his lips. He seems to have forgotten about his earlier threat, or maybe he’s just feeling merciful, as your hands instinctively reach down and wind into the roots of his wet hair. Curls matt in your grasp instantly. A harsh tug, and he’s moving his attention elsewhere, nose now nudging your clit as he circles around your entrance, pulling whines from deep within you at the teasing. 

“Eddie,” you throw your head back hard enough that you’re sure that there will be an ache to feel once all is said and done, “Fuck. Right there.”

“I see someone’s found their words,” his voice is muffled and you can feel his smirk rather than see it. 

It’s a damn pretty sight. Him, on his knees, wet curls plastering down his shoulders and back as his face is buried between your thighs. 

You can trace over each indent of muscle across his skin through half-lidded eyes, memorize the way it looks dazzling with the moisture, watch as water pools where his fingers dig into your thighs to keep you balanced. 

When his tongue finally slips inside of you, slow and stretching as the tip of his nose digs deeper into your clit, you swear you’re seeing stars. You were going to snarkily reply, but you don’t have the capacity to reply with anything other than chants of his name. Mixtures of praying to him and praying to God fall from your lips alongside curses. All muddled, all strings of whimpers and moans as he continues to bring you closer to your edge. When he finally resorts to bringing his hand back into the mix, sinking two fingers into your cunt with little warning as he returns to lazy work on your clit, you gasp out – your body lurches forward as your curl into him and your back leaves the now sticky, warm wall. 

The arm that was wrapped around your lifted leg to help you balance is quick to throw over your hips, keeping half your body still pressed to the wall. “Careful, princess.” 

Each word reverberates through you, both physically and somewhere deep in your mind, sending you even further reeling as your fingers grab onto him deeper and try to press him impossibly close. 

Princess. Somewhere along crossing all these lines, you have ventured into new territory. A territory where the nicknames get under your skin in a brand new way, slipping into your subconscious for the better rather than arising any irritation. 

Baby, princess, sweetheart. 

You’ll take whatever you can get from him. 

“Wouldn’t want you slipping and falling,” he murmurs as he pulls back, face now slick with you rather than the steam or water, “Can’t have you ruining that pretty face, getting blood all over my bathroom, now can we?” 

He’s right. God, you fucking hate when he’s right. As much as every part of your body is screaming for him to take you right here against the shower wall, you know it’s not a good idea. And you’ve really, really succumbed to enough bad ideas in these last nineteen hours. 

“Bed,” you manage to gasp out, quick to detangle your fingers from his hair and try to grab onto his shoulders without purchase due to the water still tumbling down, “Bed, now.” 

He gets the message. Rises to his feet and lets your leg fall back down, shaking as he turns to cut the shower abruptly. Without asking, he’s the one to exit into the fierce cold of the apartment first, grabbing at the flesh of your hips and guiding you out along with him. He doesn’t even bother with towels – once he has you out of that potential death trap of a tub, his lips are on yours, nipping and passionate as you breathe him in. He’s the one that maneuvers the two of you out of the bathroom, you don’t even notice when he reaches behind himself to open the door, impressively never tripping as he walks backwards and keeps your lips on his. 

It occurs to you that this is how you two work best. No overshadow of being honest with each other, no clouds of feelings getting in the way. And yet, somehow, it’s the most vulnerable you’ve managed to feel with him yet. 

You don’t want it to only be this easy when both your clothes are off. You want it to be this easy in the early mornings that you wake him up for work, you want it this easy over late night take-out and horror movie marathons. You want more cigarettes at sunset with him, soft confessionals over a rising sun. 

You can’t keep pretending that nothing has changed. You simply can’t. The fierce promise of his protection, the way his eyes stay trained on you even in the busiest of rooms. Nothing could ever erase the blooms left from him hooking his pinky with yours at the parking garage. 

All of the night is flashing through your mind, and even in the trance he has you under, you’re seeing with perfect clarity. 

It’s why just as the backs of your knees connect with his mattress, before he can throw you down and continue what was started in the shower, you’re pushing your palms against his wet chest and forcing him to look into your eyes. 

“If we do this,” you shakily begin, watching his chest rise and fall in sync with yours. Once you say these words, you can’t take them back. You’re vividly aware of it before you continue to force your voice to come out the most steadily it has the entire night, “It changes everything.” 

He blinks, eyes owlish. Once, twice. More of that emotion you finally can single out but never identify swirls like storm clouds in his vision. You wait for him to run, for him to take it all back. You wait for it all to be over – for him to deliver the final blow and leave you to collect the rubble and blood money so you can pretend this night never happened. 

“Okay.” 

Those aren’t the words of a fatal blow. You think they might send you reeling even worse, though. 

“Okay?” you clarify. If your tongue wasn’t so heavy, you’d say more. Remind him of what exactly it means to change everything. 

It seems he already knows as he parrots back, “Okay.” 

Lips meet again, and this time, they’re charged with everything. With a promise of change and a promise that maybe there isn’t a ridiculous time limit here. There is no doomsday clock between the two of you. When the clock strikes 3 PM, neither of you will vanish into thin air. 

You let him throw you back onto the bed. Your bare back meets the surprisingly soft sheets, and they erupt in the scent of Eddie. Cigarettes, a hint of weed, whatever cologne he seems to douse himself in. You can even pinpoint his shampoo amongst the fragrance now. 

It’s no longer the smell of boy that you once ran from. His hand is behind your back, but not trapped. It’s there willingly and it is caressing every inch of you that he can find, tracing out any dimples in your back he can discover as he lets your legs curl up onto his hips, kisses dappling your neck, jaw, and lips alike. 

Your vines stretch high and proud, and drink in his waves with every passing of his breath on your skin that raises goosebumps. 

You want to live here forever. In the feel of him pausing right before his cock presses into you, in the way his face scrunches up and his mouth falls agape, the haze now spreading from your mind and across both of you. Nameless chants and pleads for what was already both in the palm of your hands before you even knew what to do with it. The roll of his hips and the way his wet skin sticks to your own. Your heels digging into him, bringing him in closer, closer, closer.

Every time, it has felt this way. Something beneath the surface that has you surrendering over yourself. He has hurt you, time and time again, and you’ve let your knives be just as sharp – but the wounds scab over now when it’s just the two of you like this. 

You’re best like this for a reason. Because for once, neither of you are overthinking it. You are vulnerable and you are bare, not just physically but emotionally. Honesty isn’t a request; it is a given. You don’t just have him, you know him. Across oceans and across gardens, across midnight skies and across soft morning light. 

You have him. You know him. 

It’s enough. 

Smokey bars. His protection. Slamming doors and the clicking of locks released. The night air surrounding you and the warmth of his back as you cling to him on a motorcycle that seems to be going faster than light in your memories. That parking garage, and that hook of his pinky – a way to get closer, but also a whisper of a promise. 

He’s bled for you. He’s bled from you. 

This changes everything. 

When his hips movements become sloppy, when the knot in your stomach tightens one last time, when your nails dig into his back and leave their mark, you know it to be true. 

Everything, everything, changes. 

Eddie never really hated you, never really could, and you realize now that the feeling is mutual. 

—

You hadn’t considered exactly what the aftermath would be when Eddie first dragged you out of the shower, but you surely never could have imagined the scene now playing out. 

Him, on his back, content and humming a song you’re too tired to ask him about. His fingers are trailing mindlessly up and down your spine as you splay out across his chest. You both probably need another shower, but neither of you are willing to leave his bed for it. 

It’s not you who remembers the photo. No, you’re tired, one foot already in the door of sleep as you curl yourself tighter into his side. 

He doesn’t use your phone this time. You didn’t even realize his outdated flip phone had a camera on it. You’re not even sure if you dreamt the soft click that sounds like a camera as you nuzzle deeper into his chest.

“Everything,” he whispers, just as the edges of your consciousness begin to blacken, “Yeah, this changes everything.”

Your last thought is a curious one; will he send the photo he just took? 

Would he dare to admit to everyone how everything has changed?

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[megalony]

Have You Slept

This is an Evan Buckley imagine based on a request and I am hoping to make it into a little series if anyone would like that. Any feedback is always amazing, I really loved writing this one.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz

911 Masterlist

Summary: Evan invites the team to meet his wife and twins who he is very protective over. As one of the boys is autistic and (Y/n) happens to have narcolepsy.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"…It'll be great, Buck you're coming this time right?"

Evan paused a few feet away from the dining table in the station annex. He let his fingers continue to card through his wet locks that were forming into curls, flopping about near his forehead. He'd just had a shower and was ready to gulp down some lunch ready for whenever the bell sounded for their next call out.

He seemed to have missed the first part to whatever conversation was running rampid in the kitchen.

With a small, if confused smile, Evan walked over to the table and sat down opposite Eddie and Hen. He darted his eyes between the pair of them and Bobby and Chimney who were stood in the kitchen, finishing up grabbing plates and cutlery.

Evan had been working at the station for roughly a year now and it had been the best job he'd ever had. This had been the quickest that he had made friends in a new job and felt like he really fitted in with his co-workers. He could call these people his family, Bobby was more of a parent to Evan than his own parents were.

He felt at home with his work mates, unlike the other random jobs he'd had in the past like being a bar tender or the brief stint he had at being a bouncer. He didn't connect with people in those jobs and he didn't feel like he was making a difference like he did working at the fire house. But some things didn't change, like Evan's desire to keep his life separate from his work.

Working at the station made Evan feel excited about each new day on shift and he felt like these people were his family. They were a safe group of people to work alongside and call his friends.

"My uh, my first what?" He leaned forward in his seat and rested his elbows on the table with his hands tangled together.

The way Eddie grinned across at him and the knowing smile on Bobby's face made Evan relax and manage a smile himself. It couldn't be anything bad or somewhat awkward if they were being so relaxed about it.

"We were just talking about the annual summer party the station has every year. It happens to be next week."

"Oh, yeah."

It didn't seem that long ago that they had all been having a barbeque a month or so back.

Evan remembered when he first started at the station they had been throwing a big party here but he didn't feel close enough to anyone to attend. Then there had been the halloween party, the pictures made it look like a successful night, but Evan didn't go to that one either. Finn didn't like halloween so Evan had made sure he had the night off to stay home.

And as for the Christmas party they had, Evan had been on shift that night and he wasn't really bothered about attending so he was happy to work while everyone else went out partying.

They seemed to make any excuse to have a party, not that Evan was complaining. He'd never had parties at any other places he worked at before. This was a pleasant change.

Bobby had talked about them always doing a Christmas party and finding a few extra people to cover the shifts so the 118 could go all out and enjoy the festivities. Evan guessed they would do that for the summer party too, find more staff to cover so as many regular staff as possible could attend.

"Yes we are, and I'm hosting this year." Bobby grinned as he set down a large bowl of lasagne in the middle of the table and took his usual seat next to Evan.

Usually they had as many parties as they could in the station to promote families being around and being included. But they couldn't have a summer party indoors. It was the middle of the summer and that meant they needed to be outside, in the sun and the sweltering heat. It was more of an occasion when a party was at someone's house and Bobby and Athena were always up for hosting parties.

"Are you gonna come to this one?" Hen reached across the table and started to dish up the lasagne onto everyone's plate but her smile was directed at Evan. They always invited him but he hadn't attended one of their parties yet.

It was strange for the team to have someone like Evan in their midst. Someone who was so bubbly, excitable and eager and like a bubble of fun. He was one of them, well and truly, but he was still somewhat distant with the team. They were only just beginning to learn about Evan's private life. They knew he had a turbulent relationship with his parents. They knew he was married and had two kids but Evan didn't talk about them that much.

They had only just met Evan's wife last month and that was a flying visit. Eddie was the only one out of the whole team who knew (Y/n) because he had been to Evan's house and Evan and (Y/n) had taken care of Chris a few times.

"I guess I could swing by for a while."

"Really?"

A bubble of adrenaline sparked up in Evan's chest and he nodded when Hen sounded so enthusiastic and Eddie grinned and gave him a thumbs up. They wanted him there. They really wanted to be around him and interact with him. Evan guessed they really were becoming his family now.

"Can I bring my family with me?" Evan almost felt guilty for asking but if he was going to do this, he wanted his family there with him. He knew parties meant bringing loved ones along but he wanted to be sure, he would never want to turn up and then feel like no one wanted his family around.

Everyone had been kind to (Y/n) when Evan brought her to the station and he was glad she was starting to become friends with the people he classed as his family.

Evan knew his wife wasn't very outgoing so it was nice for her to be around more people.

"Of course you can, kid. Our parties are for everyone, we're all one big family here and you're included in that. Bring whoever you like." Bobby clapped a hand down on Evan's shoulder and nodded at him reassuringly. They all brought their families round, it was a party, an occasion to be together and have fun and games and eat and just be together without the threat of having to rush off on a call.

"I was wondering…" Evan looked down at his plate before he glanced up. This was something he had been wanting to ask everyone and now was a better time than ever. "If you'd all like to come round for dinner, with my family? It'd be easier to get to know them before the party."

It would be a lot easier for everyone if the team could come over to Evan's house and meet (Y/n) and the boys first before he brought them to the party. (Y/n) and Finn didn't last long at parties for various reasons and Cole would be the only one who would be fine to stay for hours.

Evan wanted them all to get along and know each other like Eddie knew (Y/n) and the boys. Evan wanted that relationship with all the team. They were his family now and they meant the world to him.

Evan knew (Y/n) was already excited at the prospect of getting to know the people Evan worked with. She felt like she already knew them from the stories Evan told her when he came home from shift and her first meeting with the team had gone great. It was (Y/n)'s idea for Evan to invite them round for tea one day so they could all get together in a relaxed setting. And Evan wanted that to happen now before the party so at the party, everyone would be more familiar.

"That sounds lovely, you have two boys, don't you?" Hen never wanted to push the subject of family when she was around Evan.

She didn't want to make him feel like he had to open up and talk about his private life if he didn't want to. But when Evan talked to them in a few calm moments, he had said he had two boys with (Y/n). He didn't say much else though, not their names or their age and (Y/n) hadn't mentioned when they saw her a few weeks back.

"Yeah, we've got twins, Cole and Finn. They're four… um, I know you guys won't make a fuss, but just so you know, Finn's autistic. He's non-verbal."

Evan glanced his eyes around the table. Eddie and Chimney knew. Eddie had met the boys before and Chimney was close to Maddie who was close to the boys. He needed to tell them now before they came round and got a little surprise when they met the twins.

"He doesn't speak?" Chimney kept a smile on his face and tried to control his tone so Evan didn't think he was being rude. He didn't know anyone with an autistic child and all of them knew disabilities varied.

"Oh, no he… he won't say words, but he isn't exactly quiet. He babbles. A lot of random noises, and if he wants something he'll just grab you and take you to it. He loves meeting new people, he's taking a liking to Eddie."

Finn didn't say a lot of words. He could say a few things like his name or a mushed up version of random, compiled words. And Finn could understand every word spoken to him, he just couldn't quite talk yet but they were hoping he could start to learn soon. He would make a lot of noises, squealing when he was happy, screaming when he was sad. A lot of high pitch babbling when he was playing or concentrating or just happy.

When he first met Eddie, Finn attached himself to him. He took his hand and guided him into the kitchen and waited patiently for Eddie to make him a drink. Then he followed him around like a little shadow, always wanting to be close and entertained by him.

"I can't wait to meet him."

"Oh… and uh, no one has a problem with dogs, do they?" Evan glanced around the table as a light bulb went off in his head.

He'd almost forgotten about Dodger.

"Wow, full house, twins and a dog?" Bobby pushed his plate away and moved to grab his drink. It had been a while since Bobby had had a full house with Harry going to stay with his dad a lot and May getting ready to move out.

"Dodger's a service dog, for (Y/n) so if he starts barking or circling, don't mind him."

"What kind of service?" Hen could think of at least five different reasons someone would have a service dog and she wouldn't want to presume anything. But since Evan was opening up, she thought it might be good to get him talking to them. (Y/n) hadn't brought her service dog into the station when Evan introduced them, but Hen figured that was because Evan hadn't been on shift those days.

"(Y/n)'s got narcolepsy, random sleep attacks and cataplexy. You're all in for a treat when you come round mine next week."

***

Evan rolled his lips together and tilted his head to the side when he walked into the kitchen. His eyes darted between Dodger and (Y/n) before he slowly walked over to them both.

(Y/n) was stood near the sink, two glasses and two beer bottles in front of her. She looked like she was re-filling the drinks for everyone, but her hands were subtly shaking on the counter and she was stood motionless. When Evan looked down at Dodger, he could see the golden brown Labrador was sat faithfully at her left side. Nudging his nose against her leg and shifting his front feet around like he was tap-dancing.

A jolt ran through (Y/n)'s stomach and her chest tingled when a strong pair of arms bound around her waist. She tilted her head back onto Evan's shoulder and glanced up at him, moving a little so she could catch his jaw with a kiss.

"You spaced, sweetheart." He spoke quietly against the top of her head while his hands danced over her stomach and slipped beneath her shirt to feel her bump.

"Hm," Her head tilted to push into the crook of Evan's neck and she moved her hands to cup his wrists.

With her narcolepsy, (Y/n) had a lot of side effects. Whenever she or Evan told people about her condition, they immediately jumped to the conclusion that she was lazy or just had a lot of naps during the day.

No one seemed to realise the side effects it had. (Y/n) had to schedule her sleep, go to bed at roughly the same time and try to get up at the same time each day to regulate her body clock. She was excessively tired most days. She had random sleep attacks that could be for a few seconds or a few minutes or even longer, they didn't always happen. (Y/n) could go three or five days or even a week or longer without an attack of any length.

It affected her dreams, she had vivid dreams, horrid nightmares, she acted out and lashed out in her sleep and unintentionally rolled onto Evan or hit him by mistake. She got sleep paralysis quite often.

Headaches were continuous. And narcolepsy came with cataplexy, which was where she had sudden loss of muscle control. That could be her jaw slacking, her head dropping forward, her legs going numb and giving out on her. Slurred speech or difficulty focusing or paying attention.

"You okay?" Evan spoke into her hair and leaned his cheek against the top of her head.

"Yeah, didn't last long."

She hadn't spaced out for long. It didn't happen too often that (Y/n) had microsleeps where she would either close her eyes or her eyes would stay open but her mind would shut down for a few seconds. It could last between ten seconds to a few minutes for a microsleep but (Y/n) didn't get them very often.

"Have you slept today?" Evan kept one arm curved tight around (Y/n)'s stomach while he reached across the counter and finished pouring the two glasses of juice (Y/n) had started.

Routines for sleep helped (Y/n) and she tried not to take naps during the day to keep a regular sleep schedule. But now she was pregnant again, she was trying to take at least one small nap during the day. It stopped her feeling so tired and lessened the chances of random sleep attacks. It was hard enough looking after the twins when they weren't at nursery, (Y/n) didn't need to collapse in front of them.

"Not today," She hadn't had chance to take a nap today, not with the boys being pumped up and excited about having people over for dinner. There was a lot for (Y/n) to prepare and get ready and now the team were here, there was no way she could take a power nap now.

(Y/n) slowly turned around in Evan's arms and pressed her hips up against the counter while her hands roamed up and down his chest. She loved the way his hands squeezed her hips and tried to slip beneath her leggings until she shimmied to stop him.

"We have guests- Finn, what are you doing to uncle Eddie?" Her hands scrunched up into Evan's shirt when he stood closer between her legs.

But both their heads turned to look over at the kitchen doorway when Finn appeared. He had a wide grin on his features, obscured by his thumb that he was biting down on. And his other hand was tightly gripping Eddie's hand as he dragged him from the conservatory where they were having dinner and brought him all the way through into the kitchen.

Eddie had his free hand on his hip, but he was happy to be shown around by Finn. The moment Eddie walked through the door, Finn had attached himself to his leg while Cole had gone straight to Bobby because he knew he was the Captain at the station.

Evan leaned closer into (Y/n) and grinned when Finn toddled past him and dragged Eddie behind him like he was a dog on a leash.

He moved towards the fridge and stood in front of it, pointing up at the fridge as he started to make a noise that sounded somewhat like 'wow' over and over.

"What're you after?" Eddie leaned down and scooped Finn up into his arms so he could look into the fridge and find what he clearly wanted. When Finn pointed to the small cartons of apple juice, Eddie held one out towards (Y/n) and waited for a nod of approval before he handed it over to Finn and set him back down to his feet.

Evan held out one of the beer bottles towards Eddie on his way past following after Finn.

"Shall we?" He mumbled quietly in (Y/n)'s ear, keeping his arm tight around her waist as he grabbed the two glasses in one hand while (Y/n) got the other beer bottle. She leaned her back into Evan's chest while Dodger trotted faithfully by her side.

She didn't always take Dodger out with her but she did if Evan wasn't with her. The moment he started working at the fire station, Evan started to worry. (Y/n) was at home alone with twin boys, one of whom was always on his feet and quite a handful. He didn't like the thought of (Y/n) collapsing or hurting herself or falling unconscious with toddlers around and no one to help.

Dodger solved that problem. He could sense (Y/n)'s heartbeat and if her heartbeat dropped, then she was about to fall asleep. He whined and cried and nudged her arm or circled around her legs to get her to sit down. If she dropped or fell, Dodger would try and let her fall on him so he could nudge her onto the floor. And if (Y/n) had a microsleep, he circled around her so if they were in public, people knew something was wrong. Dodger would bark at any stranger that tried to come near or touch (Y/n).

They headed into the conservatory and (Y/n) placed the beer down in front of Bobby before she passed behind him to sit down next to Hen.

"Do you drive the truck too?" Cole leaned back in his seat and looked up from the toy truck in his hand towards Hen who was sat on his right. He was happily wedged between Hen and Chimney while Bobby, Evan and Eddie on the other side of the table. And Finn was happily sat on Evan's knee, although his focus was mainly on Eddie.

"Sometimes, but I normally drive the ambulance."

"Can daddy drive the ambulance?" He looked between Hen and Bobby, waiting patiently for an answer as he had been asking questions since the moment they arrived.

"We don't let your dad drive, he's Mr speedy."

Evan tilted his head up with a proud smile when Cole grinned and murmured "I like daddy's driving." He put his truck down next to him on the table near Chimney and started to eat his dinner again.

"That's only because I don't drive." (Y/n) glanced her head up and bit her lip when Evan's foot glided up her leg and nudged her in the knee in retaliation. The boys weren't used to anyone but Evan and Maddie driving them around, and it was mainly Evan.

If they went out with (Y/n) she had to walk or take the bus and wear her sunflower lanyard just in case she had an episode while they were out. The boys were used to Evan driving so if he cut the corners or went a bit fast, that was a normality to them and they felt safe with Evan because they were used to his driving. (Y/n) couldn't drive, she had never taken lessons and never could. It would be too dangerous.

"So, how far along are you?"

"Five and a half months." (Y/n) absentmindedly smoothed her hand across her abdomen as she smiled across at Hen. She leaned across the table for a piece of garlic bread and held one out to Finn. The four year old was currently stood up on Evan's lap, leaning back into his chest with their heads pressed together. It would make for a lovely photo since Finn was grinning madly.

"So we've only got Buck for another three months then?" Bobby knew Evan would be asking him for annual leave soon. Evan wanted to get his time off sorted out now so it was set in stone. He had to be home for at least two weeks after the baby was born. When (Y/n) had the twins she hadn't been well at all and Evan didn't want that happening again with him not being able to stay home and help her.

"Afraid so."

"I don't know how you're all gonna cope without me."

Evan leaned his head to the left and a soft smile flooded his face when Finn started to kiss his hair. He began making a bopping sound while his hands rested on Evan's shoulders to keep himself stood upright on his dad's lap.

A new line of conversation flooded the air and Evan tried to keep focused and chip in but his eyes kept landing on (Y/n) across the table.

She had her chin resting on her hand with her elbow propped up on the table and her other hand was on her stomach. But it was the dazed look in her eyes that worried him. She wasn't talking either and if she started to drift, she might end up having another microsleep.

He moved his leg beneath the table and rubbed his foot up against her knee to try and grab her attention. The action made (Y/n)'s lips twitch and she lifted her eyes to look at Evan before she tried to look back at Hen for the conversation. She had one of her usual headaches. She had been feeling a lot more drowsy and tired lately and she knew it was because of the baby.

(Y/n) didn't feel so ashamed or embarrassed now to say that she was overly tired or that she needed to start taking naps during the day again. She was pregnant and was already looking after twins.

She always used to feel like she needed excuses to be tired, so people wouldn't think she was lazy. Evan always put her mind at rest. She had a condition that couldn't be cured or helped, it could only be controlled. And Evan never wanted (Y/n) to feel like she had to find excuses to explain the way she felt. Especially not around him.

"Thank you." Evan whispered quietly when Finn kissed his temple and leaned over to hug him. He moved his hands from his dad's shoulders to wrap them around Evan's neck and he giggled when Evan started to sway them from side to side.

Whenever Finn couldn't sleep ever since he was a toddler, Evan used to pace up and down the room swaying him back and forth. Evan barely got whiplash or felt dizzy from the hundreds of times he had gone in circles because the motion was so soothing to Finn.

Evan smiled as Chimney started to go into the long-winded reasoning behind his nickname.

But his smile started to drop when he heard Dodger suddenly bark.

Evan lifted his head and leaned towards Eddie on his left to try and look over the end of the table. Dodger was prancing his weight between his front feet and he started to nudge his nose and mouth against (Y/n)'s thigh. That meant he was sensing (Y/n)'s heartbeat starting to drop.

She was going to fall asleep.

"Sweetheart-" Evan bolted up from his seat when (Y/n)'s head slipped off her hand and dropped forward.

Her arm flopped down onto the table with a loud thud but before her head could land in her dinner, Evan swiftly caught her. He juggled Finn in his left arm, keeping the toddler pinned against his chest while his right hand pressed against (Y/n)'s temple. He leaned his hips into the table and leaned across, trying to stop himself from landing in anyone's dinner.

His thumb swiped across (Y/n)'s hairline while he tensed his elbow to keep his arm straight and hold (Y/n)'s weight up. He could feel her chest digging into the edge of the table, she had gone fully limp which meant this was more than a microsleep like she'd had earlier.

"Wow, hey I've got her. Good catch." Hen placed her hand over Evan's on (Y/n)'s temple and swooped her free arm around (Y/n)'s shoulders so he could carefully reel her back. She leaned (Y/n) back in her chair and held the back of her neck so her head didn't flop back and cause her any neck pain.

Eddie wordlessly reached out to take Finn while Evan scooted round the back of the chairs and moved next to (Y/n)'s chair.

"Good boy." Evan clicked his tongue and pointed until Dodger backed up and sat near the conservatory door just behind (Y/n)'s chair. He knew to move back when Evan was around but he always stayed dutifully close just in case he was still needed.

Evan pushed up on his knees and rubbed one hand up and down (Y/n)'s knee while he cradled the side of her neck in his other hand. He let her head loll to the side so she was facing him and he pressed his fingers over pulse just to check it was still steady and calm.

"Can we do anything?"

"She'll come round in a minute, she's fine."

He leaned over to kiss (Y/n)'s shoulder while he waited. It didn't usually take long for her to come back around. Evan had only had it once where (Y/n) had a sleep attack that lasted half an hour. That was the longest he had ever known (Y/n) to have an attack for and it had scared the daylights out of him.

"Mummy falls asleep but dad always catches her." Cole grinned up at Chimney before he glanced down at the other end of the table.

It was a normality for the twins. Cole was used to seeing his mum space out or see her stumble when her legs gave out from her cataplexy or when she head-dropped frequently like this. He had been brought up to know it was normal for his mum and that it wasn't scary or dangerous and he knew how to help if it happened when they were alone. And Cole always knew his dad would look after (Y/n) when it happened.

Finn didn't seem to take much notice. He had grown up around this happening so it wasn't frightening for him. He would just sit by (Y/n) and wait for it to wear off which was a relief for Evan to know it never scarred Finn or sent him into a meltdown.

"There we go," Evan's thumb brushed across (Y/n)'s cheek and he smiled when a small groan murmured past her lips.

Her head leaned into the palm of his hand and her eyes started to flutter and blink rapidly. A headache burned behind her eyes and spots danced in front of (Y/n)'s eyes when she managed to focus her sights on Evan. She must have dropped off for him to of moved so quickly down in front of her like this.

A shiver rolled down her arm when she felt Hen gently take her left wrist and check her pulse out of habit.

"I- sorry… how long?" (Y/n) tilted her chin down into her chest and tried to clear the fuzzy feeling from her head. It always felt like her head was being filled with air and the blood drained down to her toes. She shakily reached her hand up to hold Evan's wrist and brush her thumb across the back of his hand.

But when she looked over at Eddie, her expression dropped as he checked his watch. "Half an hour."

"Oi! Don't panic her like that." Evan reached behind him and swatted his hand out against Eddie's knee who rose a brow and grinned. He knew (Y/n) couldn't tell how long she had zoned out for and she hated to have an episode in front of friends in case it did last a while and she ruined things. "You were out for a minute, baby. That's all."

Leaning forward, Evan kissed her shoulder before he reached out and grabbed the stool in the corner. He dragged it across so he could sit at the end of the table close to (Y/n). Now she had had one episode, she was liable to have another and he wanted to sit nearby ready for if another happened and he had to catch her again.

Evan had acquired lightning reflexes since being with (Y/n) and he thought of it as his super power, being able to catch her before she fell or her head dropped.

He curved his arm around her waist and gripped her thigh soothingly while (Y/n) held his arm and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Does it happen often?"

"It's not as bad as it used to be… when I had the twins my cataplexy flared up every day." (Y/n) shivered at the thought. She could still remember when she was pregnant with the twins and the amount of times her head would drop or her legs would give way.

She remembered having to call Evan at work and ask him to come home because she'd had an episode and her head had slammed so hard and fast into the dining table that she gave herself a nosebleed that wouldn't stop.

At least with this pregnancy, so far things felt a little easier and her cataplexy wasn't playing up nearly as much.

Eddie leaned back in his chair and looked up at Finn when he started to babble something. The four year old began tapping his palm against his lips, making an odd popping sound that distorted whatever he was trying to say. Usually Finn's sounds weren't related to anything he wanted, he would make happy sounds or mush up words but if he wanted something he would just point.

"What's up mister?" He bounced Finn on his hip until Finn stood up on his thighs and pointed his hand over at Evan and (Y/n). "What… do you want your dad?"

Evan leaned back against (Y/n)'s chair and grinned over at his boy, but the smile faded from his face immediately when Fin started to babble.

"Daddy. Daddy, daddy. Daddy."

"Oh my God," (Y/n) pushed forward in her chair, bracing her hands on the table as she darted her eyes between Finn and Evan. She needed confirmation that she'd just heard that correctly. Did he just say that?

"What?… You said he babbles-"

"Yeah but he's never said my name before." Evan ran his fingers through his hair before he pushed up from the table. "He's never said a proper word- he's said my name!"

Finn didn't speak. That was why Evan had told the team beforehand about Finn being autistic and non-verbal. He could say something that sounded similar to his name which usually came out as 'min-min' when he babbled. He made a lot of strange and happy sounds and 'ow-wow' noises but Finn didn't pronounce or speak.

The doctor had said there was every possible chance that in the future and when he went to a school that focused on speech and language, Finn had a good chance of talking. He might not say full sentences or pronounce properly, but there was a chance of him talking. He could understand words. Finn knew every word that was spoken to him and he could comprehend speech and conversations he just didn't respond.

(Y/n) could feel the tears welling up in her eyes when Evan bolted up from his seat and leaned across the table to take Finn from Eddie.

He settled Finn on his chest and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek, unable to stop the broad smile from lighting up his face. He sat back down next to (Y/n) and started tickling Finn who continued to repeat 'daddy' so loud and fast it mushed together and came out all jumbled. But when he started to tap his hand on Evan's shoulder, it just cemented that he knew what he was saying.

He knew who Evan was and how to say his name.

(Y/n) perched her chin on Evan's shoulder and pressed her lips to his neck while she heard the rest of the team cheering. Evan was never going to let her live this down. He wasn't going to let her forget that Finn said his name first. That his first word, his first big achievement, was saying Evan's name.

"Daddy."

"Clever boy."

[storiesbyrhi]

Part One: A building gets torched

Eddie Munson x Reader Series Masterlist 1710 Words

If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them. Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever.

Warnings: canon typical violence, references to sexual assault, swearing, drug and alcohol use, sexual references, child neglect, death/grief, references to organised crime

Note: A majority of the characters from The Crow have been replaced with Stranger Things counterparts. However, a few remain in their original form (e.g. Gideon, Grange). Some major characters have been written out, as they don’t work within the context of this story (e.g. Myca – who is one of my favourite characters). I have taken material, including direct quotes, from the film and comics/graphic novel.

After Sunset, October 30, 1994

Jim Hopper stood next to the broken window. He’d been there before. He recalled how he felt when he first saw that window. How its grand scale and clean glasswork made the rest of the ratty apartment seem worth it. The window framed the city in a way that made it seem almost beautiful. Almost.

That had been a couple months before Devil’s Night. There had been whispers that the building was going to be sold off. Hopper hoped it was true. Maybe a new developer would demolish the place. He didn’t want to think about how many ghosts haunted those walls. Between the overdoses and the organised crime related violence, a lot of trips to the morgue began there.

Unfortunately, the buyer was not the up and up real estate type. Hopper heard it was more of the top of the bad guy hierarchy type. Martin Brenner owned half the city and not by any legal or ethical means. In the police files, intel on him was filed under the codename Top Dollar, like even the cops were too scared to put their name to anything that could be used against him.

 When Hopper caught wind of that, he’d paid the apartment a visit – paid you a visit.

“You gotta cool it with this stuff,” he’d warned, gesturing to where you’d been working on a new petition for everyone to sign.

“You’ve never told me to cool it before. Never shown up at my home before,”

“Before when you were feeding the homeless? Helping little old ladies cross the road? This is different. Come on, kid. Don’t play dumb.”

You sighed, but it sounded more like a huff. It hadn’t been feeding the homeless. You’d fundraised to keep the local community kitchen from shutting its doors. And, there had never been little old ladies. Maybe little old raccoons and opossums you’d built little wooden houses for…

Hopper shifted on the spot. “Look… I know you’re tryin’ to the right thing… I know you don’t want to have to move-”

“It’s not about moving. It’s about-”

“The principle, I know,” Hopper interrupted you right back. “I know. But the guy who’s eyeing the place, you don’t wanna mess around with him.”

Even then, you knew Hopper was right. You knew what you were doing was potentially dangerous. Brenner’s name had been mentioned to you before Hopper came knocking. But you were stubborn.

“How’s he even doing this? It can’t be legal. Probably paid off Kline, right?”

Hopper cringed at the name Kline. Larry Kline was the elected official who should have been fighting for the city. Instead, he was lining his pockets with Brenner-shaped coins.

“Eddie know you’re doing this?” Hopper changed tactics. There were three giveaways that Eddie was probably on tour. The first was how quiet the apartment was. The second was the lack of guitars on the wall hooks. The third was that Gabriel, a fluffy white cat, was asleep on the couch. Gabriel only sought the company of others when Eddie wasn’t an option, even though he was technically a birthday present for you.

You bit down on your tongue. “I don’t keep secrets from Eddie,”

“Right, but… Might you have conveniently forgotten to mention who wants to buy the building? Who you’re starting a fight with?”

The conversation had ended with a vague promise that you’d maybe consider ‘cooling it.’ Hopper had left that night uneasy. He never got around to tracking a phone number for Eddie out on the road. Knowing Eddie, which he only kind of did anyway, he’d never tell you to stop doing anything. That man worshipped the ground you walked on.

Hopper stood at the broken window and held a cigarette between his teeth. He looked down to the street below, Eddie’s body being covered with a crime scene sheet while onlookers scrambled to see the carnage.

Behind him, crime scene techs and cops buzzed about the apartment. He turned to survey the scene. The photos on the wall told a story of love. His brain tried to reconcile how you looked in them, compared to how you looked lying on the apartment floor covered in blood. The paramedics were still working on stabilising you, you clinging to life by your fingernails.

Hopper gave the okay to move you while he picked up a thick piece of card off the floor. A wedding invitation for the following day – a sunset event.

“Who the fuck gets married on Halloween anyhow?” one of the cops asked, staring at the mannequin keeping your wedding dress company.

Hopper didn’t answer. He listened to their commentary.

“What’s the count so far?” a rookie questioned.

“143 fires so far… They’re slacking off from last year,”

“Three hours to go; maybe they’re just slow starters.”

Hopper followed the paramedics as they took you downstairs and out to the ambulance. Another detective was there. Detective being a very generous title, as most of the work Phil Callahan was capable of was not of the sleuthing variety.

“This the victim?” he asked.

 “No, it’s Amelia Earhart. We found her, Detective, and you missed it,” Hopper deadpanned.

Before Callahan could come up with something witty to say, Hopper was back at your side. A girl on a skateboard had appeared, pulling at your sleeve.

“Stand back, kid,” he said.

It was Max’s voice that dragged you somewhere close to Earth. “Where’s Eddie?” you croaked.

“Ah… Don’t worry about him,” Hopper told you.

“Tell him to take care of Max.”

Paramedics had you loaded up, closing the back of the ambulance. Hopper stood next to Max for a moment before putting a hand on her shoulder.

“You Max?”

“Yeah,”

“Okay, look… Your sister… She’s gonna be okay,”

“She’s not my sister. She just takes care of me… She’s my friend. Her and Eddie… You lied to her about Eddie.” Max sounded more sad than accusatory.

“I had to,”

“And you’re lying to me about her. She’s gonna die, isn’t she?”

Hopper could deal with a lot of things. A grief-stricken teenage girl was not one of them. He clasped both of her shoulders and held her, looking around the scene with a growing understanding that the misery had only just begun.  

One Year Later After Sunset, October 29, 1995

Max visited the cemetery often. She’d walk along the rows, taking one flower from each bouquet she passed. By the time she was standing in front of the matching graves, she had an offering. One white rose for Eddie, the rest for you.

Losing you and Eddie was bad, but the months since had been worse. Her mother had all but resigned from that role, spending more and more time wherever Neil and Billy Hargrove went. Max hardly saw Susan anymore. The Hargroves, and the people like them, were terrifying.

Max sat down facing the headstones. “I found another one,” she said. “It says that people used to believe that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead.”

In the weeks after that Halloween, Max obsessed over the science of death. She wanted to know how you and Eddie had felt. What would happen to your bodies, buried under all that dirt? Then, once she knew everything there was to know, she moved on to folklore. What stories had been told about dying? What existed beyond the veil?

“The thing though, is that if the person dies unfairly, if something so bad happens, then that is carried with the soul. The sadness. And the soul can’t rest.”

Max had contemplated magic. She saw a Ouija board put out by the trash cans outside her apartment building and seriously considered taking it inside. Her research had slowly veered into the direction of revenge-driven resurrection, for which many cultures had legends and fables of.

“Sometimes the crow can bring that soul back, to put the wrong things right.”  She paused, looking down and pushing the dirt around with a stick. Max shrugged to herself. “I know it’s a fairytale… But it would be nice…”

Thunder rumbled above Max. After gathering her things, she began to walk away. A crow swooped down, landing on Eddie’s headstone. She was sure it was the same one that always hung around the cemetery; she’d named him The Night Watchman.

“Keep an eye on them for me,” she told him, dropping her skateboard and riding off into the drizzling rain.

It was fear first. Terror. Darkness.

He tried to draw a breath in but it didn’t provide any relief. Something told him to get up. Get out. A voice. A voice in his head. Get up. Get out. But get up and get out of what? He thrashed but all his limbs hit solid wall.

Punching, punching, punching. When he finally broke through the coffin’s lid, his knuckles were raw and bleeding. He dug, splitting nails and swallowing dirt. He reached the surface, pulling himself from his grave.

His body couldn’t decide between curling up or being splayed out on his back. It couldn’t decide between screaming or sobbing. He was twitchy and achy. His knuckles had scabbed and scarred. He’d healed but the healing hurt.

At first, he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know who he was.

A crow landed on an overhead branch. It called to the man, a deep and piercing caw. It was there to guide him. It was there to bear witness. It was there to share the burden of the second life of Eddie Munson.

Eddie knew to follow the crow. He knew the crow would take him to where he wanted to go. It would take him to you.

He stumbled, pulling himself through the cemetery and out into the city. Nobody noticed him weaving through alleyways and stalking shadows. He pulled at his burial clothes, hands running over the bullet hole scars on his body.

Eddie’s bare feet walked through filthy puddles and over crumbling asphalt. He only stopped when the crow landed on a dumpster, squawking.  Something dark was sitting on top of the trash. Old worker’s boots, too small for Eddie, but he put them on anyway. He stomped onwards.

End Note:

Thank you to the love of my life @jo-harrington for brainstorming and editing help, and for general support and hype girl shit.

The process of writing this series has been a bit of an isolated one, compared to past work. So, I don't know how it will be received. I am more unsure about it than I have been about my other stuff too. Any feedback would be immensely appreciated.

Happy New Year, xo Rhi

Fic Taglist (open): @mrsjellymunson @princesssunderworld @qweencrimson @b-irock @writinginthetwilight @bornslippys @ali-r3n @lexr86

All Eddie Taglist (open):solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes  @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob  @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel @dashingdeb16 @cultish-corner @em0220

[dannyboy-writes]

Running away

After fleeing the Fire Nation's land you found yourself in a small fishing village. Filled with flowers in spring and sunlight in the summer, with piles of leaves in autumn and a tad of snow in winter. Just a hint of whiteness. 

The last thing you would've expected from your travels was to end up here, having somewhat of a normal life, filled with joy. The only thing you would've changed was your last conversation with a certain someone. 

“You used to have long hair,” a familiar but distant voice said, as you turned around. 

"You used to be shorter," you said, face as serious as you could.

With a still straight face she said, "I could have you executed for that."

"Only if you can catch me," you finally broke a smile.

"True," Azula said, smiling as well. 

"What brings you to this lovely and remote area of the world," you asked, pulling some things off the table.

"I was searching for someone. They owe me a goodbye," she said playfully.

You put some water in a kettle, "I believe they said goodbye already."

"Did they?"

"I gave you a letter, it's more than I did to most," you defended. 

"You didn't give me a letter." 

"Well, I hid it in your room. You found it, you can't lie to me Azula," you laughed. 

She tried to maintain a serious face but dropped it soon as well, "I did find it." 

"I couldn't exactly leave it laying around, not with everything that was happening."

"I understand," she nodded. "I just wish you had given it to me." 

"I thought of it, but it was late. I had to ninja my way for it, I'm very proud of that," you said.

"Because of the guards?" 

"Yeah, that and the fact that everyone had my face in a reward poster…" 

She clasped her hands together and nodded. 

"Why are you still standing, Zula?" You said bringing a kettle of tea to the table and sitting down. "Get comfortable, do you want anything else?"

"No, it's fine," she said, shifting in her spot. 

"Is everything okay?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't it be," she asked in a paranoid tone.

"No reason," you said as she sat down. "Did you really come all this way just to get a goodbye?"

"Don't be silly, y/n. It's on the way in my travels," she lied. 

It had been too long since she last saw you, and the way your voice strained in your throat took her off balance. Perhaps this was how you'd always spoken, but she didn't think so. Maybe she had just grown too paranoid.

"Where are you going?" You asked. 

"Oh, let's not speak of that. How are you?" 

The question rocked you off your place, but you managed not to show it. 

"Well, I'm doing well. There's not much to do around here but fishing, so I do that, and sell that as well. I'm growing this tree in the back, it used to have a torn branch and it was falling off, but now it's looking good," you explained. "Sorry, you're probably bored by this." You said, knowing Azula wasn't one to be interested in the common occurrences of life.

"No, continue," she dismissed. And as you raised your eyebrow asked, "Please." 

"Well, there is also a small dragon-moose that comes around every now and then, searching for food. I tend to leave a pot of fresh water and some leftovers for him." You paused to sip on your tea, "Other than that it's all pretty calm. There's mostly old people here, so no one asks many questions. They usually tell stories to me, not the other way around, which is good." 

It was good, Azula thought. If you were still in hiding, even if you weren't in Fire Nation soil, it was good for people not to ask many questions. 

"How do you know it's the same dragon-moose?" She found herself asking, much to her own surprise.

You were taken a bit aback by the question but answered anyways. "Oh, he has a little white spot in between the eyes. Plus he always waits for me to sit down before he eats the food. I don't know why, really."

She smiled, again to her surprise. How simple your life was, and how content with it you sounded. All you did was fish, feed animals and listen to old people's stories, and yet you looked like the happiest person in the world. 

“It sounds wonderful,” she simply replied.

“Yeah… You sure you're fine?" You asked, concerned. It had been some time since you last saw her, but she didn't use to ask this many questions. 

“You have nothing to worry about, y/n. I promise," she nodded.

"Okay… Do you plan on staying?" 

"Would you like me to stay?" 

"I'm asking so I know how much food I should make, you don't have to stay."

"If you want me to stay I'll stay," she stated.

You blinked in surprise, not expecting that. "Uh, yeah, I would love that," you smiled. "That would be great." 

She nodded once again, this time with a smile plastered on her face. She thought about staying there, in your little house by the sea. 

Things would be so easy if she just had one more chance with you.

But she had Zuko and his friends on her heels, and it was better to leave you out of Fire Nation problems. One last dinner with you, that was all she needed.

When you woke up next morning with the house silent you knew she was gone, and when you walked into the kitchen and saw the note you hoped she was safe.

A little ‘thank you’ was all you had, and it was all you’d need.

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part seven

Everything is beginning to unravel 🫣

Warnings: just the usual angst and their bickering! Hotch being...nice? and Reader panicking (but not a full panic attack)

True to Strauss’s words, a new case comes in the next day. You’re admittedly a little more excited than you should be a new serial killer, but you’re tired of so many days in the office. If you’re away on a case, you can’t be called to go speak to Richard Monroe, and Hotch can’t corner you with his suspicions and wild conclusions.

Unfortunately, it does mean that you’ll be forced to interact with Hotch more often. Albeit in conversations focused on the case, but. Everyone has seen how well that goes over for the two of you. 

So, imagine your surprise when you board the jet and see every seat is taken, except the one to Hotch’s right.

Now, you could sit somewhere else, but that would mean sitting so far away from the rest of the team that it would look ridiculous. Your only real, responsible, professional option is to sit next to Hotch.

So, fine. You can be a professional. If Hotch has a problem with it, that’s his fault.

You settle into the seat beside Hotch with a slight huff. At least you’re across from Prentiss and JJ. Across the aisle, Reid sits cross legged on the couch, Morgan lounges in a chair, and Rossi sits with a smug smile hiding behind his palm.

Bastard. He probably put everyone up to this, leaving an empty seat beside Hotch.

Fine.

You clear your throat against the silence as you listen to the pilot start the engines. No one is saying anything, so you join Hotch in opening a case file and rereading over some details.

It’s a fairly run of the mill case, except it isn’t, because this is the BAU, and you guys don’t get the normal serial killers.

The Mobile Police Department found the body of Melissa Johnson on a dirt road outside town. Next to remains of another woman who they have yet to identify. 

Two weeks ago, the same story, one county over. 

A week before that, the same story, one state over, in the De Soto National Forest in Mississippi. Those two women were the worst — if there can even be a competition. 

Each of the women were strangled to death, but not by a belt, wire, or anything you normally see. It was with the unsub’s bare hands. 

Warning bells go off in your head as you take everything in. The strangulation, the discarding of the bodies like they’re ragdolls, the remote locations, across states, it’s— It’s insane. What it makes you think of. Who it makes you think of.

You inhale sharply and close the file, feeling Hotch’s eyes on you. Subject change is needed immediately. 

“Reid, got any new books recently?” you lean your head over to smile at him. 

“No,” he says, and sounds genuinely torn up about it. “I haven’t gone to the secondhand store in a few weeks, though, but I might go when we get back. Do you want to come with me? We should—”

“Reid,” Hotch scolds gently, but the glare he gives you is real. You’re positive then that he’s onto you, and it pisses you off. “What do you see?”

“Six strangled women,” you deadpan, turning your head to look at Hotch. “What do you see?”

His jaw tenses. “A startled agent,” he mutters, quiet enough only for you to hear. “When we touch down in Mobile, Reid, I want you to get started on the board, any connections you can see, I want them up there.”

Reid is already scribbling on his case files, circling words and underlining others. Who knows what he sees, but he’ll elaborate when he comes up for air.

“Rossi, take Prentiss and speak with Melissa’s family,” Hotch says. 

Which leaves you, Morgan, JJ, and Hotch. You shift in your seat, accidentally pressing your thigh against Hotch’s. You shift again, this time knocking your knee into his. 

Fuck this tiny ass jet.

You cease your wiggling, knowing it’s only going to egg Hotch on further. But he runs like a furnace and you can feel the heat of him through your clothes. It’s driving you insane.

“JJ, Morgan, help Reid dig through some of the department’s similar files, I’ve told them to have everything pulled for when we get there.”

You resist the urge to grind your teeth together. You drum your fingers on the table, tilting your head at Hotch. “And what are we getting up to today?”

Hotch stares at you tiredly before looking back down at his file where he has it open on pictures of Melissa’s body. “We’re going to where he left the bodies.”

+++

Hotch drives because he always does. The fact that it also means he gets to watch you and all your nervous ticks while you have nothing else to do means nothing. 

You’ve been acting off ever since the jet, ever since you looked at the photos of Melissa’s body and where it was dumped. Your fingers have not once ceased their drumming, and now you’ve added deep breaths every few minutes into the mix.

Hotch can’t recall ever seeing you act this way. 

He tightens his grip on the steering wheel, bracing himself for your inevitable anger after what he’s about to ask. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” you bite out. Your entire body tenses, all tics coming to a halt. “Why?”

Well, you’re already angry with him — like always. Might as well make it worse. “You seem anxious.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sure you are.”

“Don’t profile me.”

“I don’t have to,” Hotch argues. If they didn’t have somewhere to be, he’d pull over right now and shake your shoulders. “You won’t stop moving.”

“Well, sorry I can’t help being human,” you spit, turning your hand over to pick at your fingernails. “Are you going to tell me I’m breathing too loud next?”

Hotch thinks of your deep breaths. He keeps his mouth shut.

Which, naturally, makes it worse.

“Oh my god,” you scoff. “You’re the one who decided we should go on this merry little drive to look at where he dumped their bodies.”

“I divide up the tasks for every case—”

“Yes, but you didn’t have to pick me,” you protest. “You could’ve taken Prentiss with you. But no, you just had to choose me so we could yell at each other for half an hour.”

Hotch takes his own deep inhale, slowing down when he sees the other police cars up ahead. 

He waits until he pulls off the road to say, “I chose you because you saw something in those photos. You don’t have to tell me what you saw right now, but when it’s relevant, I’d appreciate it if you share. Could be helpful. Let’s go.”

He doesn’t wait for your reply before stepping out of the car, though he does catch your shocked expression before you can hide it.

You recover well, following Hotch to meet the officers, your badge clipped to your hip opposite your gun. Hotch wrenches his eyes away from said hips with more difficulty than he will ever admit to.

“Deputy Harris,” the man introduces himself with a firm handshake.

“Agent Hotchner, we spoke on the phone.” Hotch decides to save everyone the grief and let you introduce yourself.

“Agent L/N, nice to meet you,” you put on a smile and offer an equally firm handshake, proving you’re not someone to mess with in the field, lest any officers get any ideas. “Where did you find them?”

“Right this way,” Deputy Harris gestures down the dirt road that might as well be an overgrown path. “There’s a fishing hole just at the end of it. Denis was driving to it when he saw them.”

You start walking down the path, toward the yellow markers. “Is it a private fishing hole?”

“Not necessarily,” Harris shrugs. “If you know Denis, you can fish there. If you don’t, well.”

“Gotcha,” you nod. “And we can trust Denis?”

Your lighthearted tone shocks Hotch, but it gets a chuckle out of the deputy. “Considering he’s back that way with one of my officers still puking his guts out, yeah, I’d say so.”

“Got it,” you let out a laugh. “He’ll be alright.”

Hotch watches you as you walk ahead with the deputy, and he’s even more shocked by the slight accent coming through your words.

The deputy gives you a pleased smile. “You from around here?”

“No, no,” you shake your head, casting a glance in Hotch’s direction. “Further north.”

Hotch’s eyes dart to yours.

“Ah, Birmingham?” the deputy asks.

“No, uh,” you pause, and Hotch waits for you to correct the officer, say you’re from a different state, but you don’t. You avert your eyes to the dirt path ahead. “Huntsville.”

Hotch’s gaze hardens. You and your file told him you were from a different state entirely. One a long way from Huntsville, Alabama.

The file he asked Garcia to retrieve sits in his briefcase back at the hotel — alongside a sticky note written in her famous gel pen that states she does not approve of this kind of snooping. He hasn’t had the time to fully look through it, but he glanced at the first page, including where you’re from, and it did not say Huntsville.

What game are you playing?

“Is this where he dumped them?” you ask, bringing your hand up to shield your eyes from the sun. The deputy nods.

A few crime scene investigators crawl carefully around the area, taking pictures and notes. The bodies have since been taken away, but they’re still searching for anything they can find. You watch them work from a distance, but Hotch studies you for a moment. 

Something is bothering you about this case.

You ask the standard questions to gain some extra information from the deputy, but it isn’t much. There isn’t much to these murders unfortunately. At least not that they can see right now.

At least not that you’re sharing.

“Well, deputy,” you turn toward him, the sweet southerness still lacing your words and making Hotch’s mouth twitch at the corners. “We’ll let you know if we need anything else. A few of our colleagues have set up back at the precinct.”

Harris nods. “We’ll see you there, then.” He sticks his hand out for another handshake.

You take it in stride. “Best barbeque in town? I'll be a tough judge.”

The deputy laughs heartily. “I don’t doubt that.”

Hotch takes in the area for a moment longer before nodding to the deputy, and then he’s turning on his heel, heading back to the car. The only way he knows you’re following is your stomping footsteps.

He’s going to have a storm waiting for him when he gets in the car, but so will you. 

“Hello?” you shout after him. “Get the creeps or something?”

He slams the car door once he’s inside, waiting for you to do the same. You do.

“Hello?” you repeat, waving your hand in front of his face. “Jesus.” You yank the seatbelt over your body. “Thanks for your help back there. Your questions were so useful.”

Hotch cranks the engine, pulling onto the road to turn around. “Huntsville?” he inquires.

“What?” You rest your head in your hand.

“You’re from Alabama?”

“That is what my birth certificate says,” you deadpan. “Is there an issue with me being born here?”

“No, your—” Hotch stops. What can he say, exactly? If he says that’s not what your file tells him, he’s crossing a line. And you seem…calmer. He doesn’t want to accuse you of lying and set you off before he can get the truth out of you. So, he tries again. “You told me you were from Washington state.”

You shrug. “We moved when I was little. I’m forever split between the two, I guess.”

It’s an uncharacteristic moment of openness between the two of you. Maybe the first ever. Hopefully not the last.

Hotch nods. “Did you like Washington more?”

It takes you a while to answer, and Hotch expects you to poke fun at him, maybe even get angry. But you don’t.

“I did,” you reply, the ghost of a smile crossing your lips. “Did you like where you grew up?”

He lets out a little laugh. “It was okay. My brother and I liked it as much as kids can, I guess.”

“Brother?” you turn to look at him, mischief written all over you. “Let me guess…younger.”

“How’d you know?” Hotch asks, exasperation in his eye roll as he thinks of Sean’s antics.

You hum. “You just seem like an older brother.”

“How so?”

“Pushy,” you blurt immediately.

Hotch scoffs. Looks like the moment of calm was short-lived. “Right.”

“Intelligent,” you add, quietly, looking out the windshield instead. “Protective. You’re used to doing everything yourself and being the boss, steering people around.”

“I am the Unit Chief—”

“Yeah, yeah,” you wave your hand at him. “But you weren’t when I first met you.”

Hotch opens his mouth to protest, but leaves it alone — for once. He raises one hand off the wheel in surrender. “Alright, fair enough.”

You dial Morgan’s number to give him some updates, but first, “Any ideas for dinner? Got a tip for the best barbeque in town.”

Morgan’s laugh rumbles through the phone, “I love the sound of that.”

+++

Arriving back at the precinct, dinner in hand, you and Hotch are…surprisingly fine. Everyone’s jaw’s practically drop open when you both walk into the precinct in one piece. And on speaking terms.

“Uh…” Morgan takes the drink carrier from you, eyeing you and Hotch carefully. “Good?”

“Yeah,” you say, maybe too quickly. “Fine, why?”

You honestly don’t know what’s come over either of you. You didn’t argue the whole way back. Okay, you didn’t talk either, but you’ll take what you can get. You’re just glad he didn’t use the fact that you couldn’t escape as an excuse to ask questions you can’t answer. The silence was as comfortable as you could hope for, the radio playing at a low volume.

“What have you found?” Hotch asks, looking at Reid. He takes the seat diagonal from you.

“Uh, nothing much so far,” Reid replies regrettably. He reaches for a bag of chips as Morgan steals them away. “The greater cities are all accessible by I-10, but the towns are far off the interstate, so it’s not that relevant. But hey, I was thinking, you know who this is reminding me of?”

Everyone shares a wild look. 

“What, kid?” Morgan says with a laugh. “What does it remind you of?”

Around a mouthful of barbeque, Reid says, ���Do you remember Carson Adkins? They called him The Strangler.” Reid raises his eyebrows to his hairline.

Your heart stutters to a complete halt. Your lungs constrict.

Around you, the conversation continues.

Morgan: “From the 80s?”

Prentiss: “Didn’t he strike in Georgia and California?”

JJ: “That’s him.”

Reid: “Rossi, wasn’t that when you were with the BAU?”

Rossi: “Thanks, kid, I appreciate the age-check.”

You’re too busy focusing on controlling your breathing to realize you’ve stopped breathing entirely. And moving. 

“Y/N?” Hotch’s voice breaks through the fog, and you flinch away from the noise, despite a table separating you.

“Fine,” you say automatically, setting your sandwich down. Your eyes scan the crowd of worried faces watching you. “I’m fine. We were talking? About the…” You dust your hands off. “The Strangler?”

“Yes,” Rossi says slowly, finally looking elsewhere. “It took us years to track him down because he went dormant and we couldn’t figure out why or where.”

“Did you ever figure out why?” you ask, your voice sounding unlike any sounds you’ve ever produced.

Rossi’s eyes meet yours briefly before he looks away. “He had a wife and daughter. It’s more common than you think.”

You swallow around whatever rock has made a home in your throat. “But you found him.”

“We did,” Rossi says quietly. “He eventually slipped up. He got sloppy, reckless. What really led us to him was someone he knew kidnapping his daughter. He did everything he could to lead us to her. Even though he knew it meant we’d catch him.”

You nod, wrapping your hand around your cup, trying not to dig your fingertips in. It’s foam, for fuck’s sake, and the last thing you need is to spill Coke all over these files.

“His poor wife and daughter,” JJ sighs. “I hope they’re okay, wherever they are now.”

“Yeah,” Rossi says, eyes flicking to yours just for a fleeting second. “Me too.”

After a beat, Derek says, “Do we think this is a copycat then, or…?”

“I don’t think so,” Reid says. “There’s too many differences for it to be a total copycat, I just meant it reminds me of how he traveled by—”

Your ears start ringing too loud to hear him, but it’s for the better. You don’t need to hear him list the differences and similarities. You know them already. 

You know them because The Strangler was— is your father. And you’re the reason he was caught.

[badgerbl00d]

hey I've fallen down a rabbit hole of reading your fics and it's 3am here but they're so good!!! I'm in love ✨✨✨💕💕 i was wondering if I could request a story with Zoro but the reader's ex is there and she doesn't miss him but she runs into him for the first time and she's hurt after he disappeared on her, maybe he's with a bunch of his friends. Zoro comforts her, maybe even embarrasses the ex while they fight off some enemies and stuff. Sorry i know I'm rambling on, but ahhhh i would love to see this come to life! thanks again! :)

hands off

☆ characters: roronoa zoro

☆ up next: captain's girl; shanks x reader

☆ summary: you have an unexpected run-in with your no good ex boyfriend but unfortunately for him, you have zoro with you

☆ a/n: lovedddd writing this! i love writing protective zo :3 thank u for this ask! requests are still open

☆ key: e/n = ex's name

It was a busier night than you and the crew had seen in a while. You were all desperate for a day off of chores and the open ocean so Nami suggested a brief stop at the closest island. 

You’d broken off in groups to spend some time on land and you Zoro and Robin had made your way to a dive bar in town. 

It was a welcome stop– the ship only had sake on it. Franky and Brook had finished the gin during a card game and Sanji had finished off the bourbon in a recipe. 

The three of you found a seat and you took a moment to sink into the torn leather cushion, breathing in the smell of old cigarettes in ashtrays and beer. The neon lights washed you in a warm hue and Zoro couldn’t help but stare at how the blinking lights shifted on your face, changing the shadows of your eyelashes danced on your cheeks. 

He got up, realizing Robin had taken note of his staring and made his way to the bar ordering a drink for himself. 

You and Robin were talking, he could hear your giggling and tried to drown the warmth that erupted in his tummy by downing the drink.

You walked up behind him and hugged him from behind, “Zo-ro!”

He loved the way you said his name, stretching out the first syllable and emphasizing the second. Zou– ro!

“Hey, Y/n,” he said, biting back a smile.

“What’d you order?”

“Sake.”

“Shocking! Gimme a sip.”

He handed you the small bowl, his heart beating faster when your fingers touched.

He watched you sip it and wince as it went down.

“Still gross.”

It was too much to be around you, you were intoxicating and he knew if he spent too much time around you after having had a few drinks he’d most likely say something stupid and embarrass himself. 

He started getting up, awkwardly trying to get you off of his shoulders. 

You let go and took his seat. 

“Here,” he dug around in his pockets and handed you a few bills and several coins.

You shot him a puzzled look.

“Get yourself a drink, since you didn’t like mine.”

“With…” you paused and counted the money, “Three berries and sixty-four.. no, sixty-five cents?”

He shot you a look and snatched the money up, grumbling as he went back to the table. 

A man in the bar quickly took Zoro’s place once he’d walked away and started up a conversation with you, much to Zoro’s irritation. He went and sat with Robin, sipping his drink and playing a game of checkers with her. 

An hour or so had passed and you, sociable as ever, had talked to almost everyone in the bar. 

Robin playfully nudged Zoro in your direction, who was absorbed almost entirely in his sixth cup of sake of the night. 

You were sitting alone at the bar now, ordering yourself a drink. 

Zoro furrowed his brow and took another big sip of his drink, pretending not to understand what Robin was hinting at. 

“Hmph,” he muttered, still not wanting to admit to Robin that his crush had been found out. 

A sudden impulse to go to you and declare his feelings bubbled up in his chest and against his better judgment, he stood up trying to gather the courage to go up and sit with you. It’s not like it would have been weird–he was closer with you than the rest of the crew and he knew you better than anyone (at least that’s what he let himself believe). But tonight, for some reason, he had been feeling nervous around you. He told himself that maybe it was your new perfume, floral and saccharine, and dizzying every time he caught your intoxicating scent or the dress you were wearing that hugged your body in all his favorite places, not that he looked, of course, or maybe it was your hair which was framing your face, now glowing in the soft light of the bar and pink with the warmth of alcohol that was driving him absolutely mad at the thought and sight of you. 

“Better hurry,” she said, getting up to leave, “Looks like a few other people already want to take the open seat next to her.”

A group of younger boys in the corner pushed one of their group toward where you were sitting, sending flirty remarks your way. 

“I’ll see you two back on the ship tonight.” 

You ignored the boys behind you, rolling your eyes at their antics. 

“Mint gimlet, miss,” the bartender said, handing you a drink, winking, “The gentleman over there sent it.”

“Oh? Well, thanks,” you said, looking to see who had guessed your favorite drink. 

Your heartbeat picked up, thumping with a quick, erratic beat against your chest. You felt goosebumps cover your skin and your stomach churned. 

Him. 

It had been two, or was it three?, years. God knows you’d tried contacting him; dozens of letters, calls, messages, just wanting to know what happened. Had you done something? Was he in trouble? Did a year of your life mean nothing to him? All that time, all those kisses and conversations and messy beds and lazy mornings. All the petty arguments and fights and the tears you’d cried in front of him. You had told yourself that there was no way he’d have thrown it all away. But six months after you’d last seen him, leaving your bed in the early hours of the morning, kissing your forehead and promising you dinner that night, he’d responded to one of your letters. 

It was some shitty, half-assed excuse—something about new opportunities and not wanting to tie you down, being your own person. 

A lump in your throat began forming at just the thought of it. 

You looked away from him, blinking back tears, but it was too late. He was headed your way. 

Well, you thought, the least you could do was ignore him. 

He sat one seat away from you, smiling at you like a schoolboy in love. You wanted to break your glass over his head. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” he said, placing his hand over yours, “How are ya?”

He was halfway through a beer, a drink that you now associated with his memory. 

You clenched your jaw and looked straight ahead, ignoring him entirely. 

“At least taste the drink, I know they’re your favorite.”

Zoro, who had been closely watching this entire interaction noted how you tensed up the moment he sat down and placed a steady hand on the handle of his sword. He paused for a moment, closely observing the scene that was playing out before him. He watched you push the drink in front of you away and your soft smile fall into a frown. 

“Leave me alone.”

The man reached over and placed his hand on your thigh and gently squeezed, eliciting visible disgust from you. 

Pushing his hand off you repeated yourself, “Leave me a-lone.”

Zoro was already making his way toward you from the other side of the room, his blood starting to simmer at the sight of your unwanted visitor. 

He stopped at a table about twenty feet away from you, deciding he would wait a bit more before taking any action– he was, after all, somewhat intrigued. 

The man was laughing, but you had never looked so angry.

“I am sorry, sweetheart,” he heard him say, “Let me explain what happened, just hear me out.”

“I don’t care what happened, and I will not hear anything out so long as it’s you speaking,” you responded.

“Did ya miss me? At least answer me that.”

Your hands were balled up into shaky fists, “No.”

The man laughed again, grabbing your drink from in front of you and taking a sip, “Yes, you did. Look how worked up you are! Don’t know how to respond to the sight of me, huh? Am I as handsome as you remember?”

You suddenly felt a large hand on your shoulder and turned to look up and see Zoro, relief sweeping through your body. 

“Hey, Zo,” you said, smiling at him.

“Mind getting me a beer?”

“Not sake?” you asked. He laughed, a lot more than normal, but insisted it was the beer he wanted. 

Tension between you and your ex was already at an all-time high, and your apparent closeness with Zoro wasn’t helping.

The bartender placed the beer in front of you and you pushed it over to Zoro who grabbed it and sat in the empty seat between you and your ex. 

“You know him?” Zoro asked, taking a generous sip of beer. 

You didn’t respond for a second, but eventually nodded, “Yeah.”

“Want me to move?” 

You could see E/n glaring at Zoro. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and looked up at Zoro who had an unreadable sort of expression on his face, something between irritation and apathy. He looked straight ahead and didn’t look at either you or the man to his right. 

Several moments passed without an answer and he turned to look at you, “Didn’t think so.”

“We were having a conversation,” your ex nudged Zoro’s arm. 

You knew the look on Zoro’s face, it was that sort of glazy-eyed focus he fell into before fighting. 

“E/n, we’re done talking.” 

“Are you sure this guy isn’t bothering you, Y/n? I felt like we were close to… reconnecting.”

Ugh, go away.

“Well, we weren’t,” you said.

Zoro stayed silent, sipping his beer, but you could tell he was very aware of everything going on around him. 

“Alright,” he said, getting up. He grabbed his coat and walked over to you, leaning over your shoulder, his chest to your back, and pressed a kiss to your cheek. You watched Zoro’s fist clench out of the side of your eye.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, “Get off.”

As much as you hated the man, you knew Zoro was very capable of escalating things very quickly and you wanted to avoid causing a scene. 

You felt a small rush of wind on the back of your neck and the cool edge of a blade settle there. 

Uh-oh.

So much for staying calm. 

“Step away from her,” Zoro snarled, “Now.” His sword was extended behind your head and the point was resting on E/n’s chest. 

He put his hands up and smirked at Zoro, “Let’s not get too confident here, buddy.”

He pushed his jacket to the side and rested his hand on the gun that sat on his hip. He drew it slowly and dragged his finger to rest on the trigger.

You remembered that stupid gun and the fight that had ensued when you’d accidentally touched it.

Zoro laughed, loud and bold.

“I’ll have your hands cut off and skinned before you can pull the trigger. Make this a lot easier for yourself and leave.” 

Zoro didn’t look anywhere other than his face. His arm was steady and the sword didn’t waver even an inch. Confident and unwavering, he resembled a tiger before it kills. 

Your ex placed the gun back in its holster and turned to shoot you a pathetic smile, “Are you sure you want me to leave? You won’t see me again.”

You won’t see me again.

For a moment, all that hurt resurfaced. The striking realization that this was it. Your relationship was done and would never be what it had been again. This moment, right now, was truly it. You prepared yourself to say something, anything. But there was a growing lump in your throat so you stopped yourself from answering. You’d never forgive yourself if your voice broke now. 

Zoro moved in front of you, blocking you from his view, “You’re conversation with her is done. You can talk to me and lose your life in the process or you can leave.”

“Bitch,” he muttered under his breath, still looking at you and turning to leave. 

Before he’d even finished saying the word you watched Zoro’s sword cut through the air quicker than you could process, leaving him standing over your ex-boyfriend who was now clutching his bleeding chest on the floor. 

You shot up, suddenly nauseated by the exchange and the unnerving satisfaction you felt. 

Blood was soaking through his shirt and puddling in his palm, his breathing heavy and ragged. 

You grabbed Zoro’s arm and he turned to look at you. His complexion completely changed the moment he looked down at you, concern pouring from all of his features. 

Are you okay? he asked, his eyes speaking for him. 

“Let’s go, Zo,” you said, tugging on his arm, “There’re marines in town.”

He nodded, lowering his sword but he didn’t sheath it. 

“Just give me one more second.”

Zoro crouched down and nudged him with the handle of his sword like a cat playing with its prey. 

“I know you’re alive, so listen ‘cause I’m not gonna repeat myself,” he drew his sword and brought it up next to his ear. You watched silently as he visibly flinched. Zoro brought the blade down to rest on his shoulder, and slid it toward himself, wiping the blood off of the sword and onto his shirt. 

“If I ever see you again. Any time, any place- I guarantee that I will be the last thing you see on Earth. Understood?”

Zoro didn’t move at all, not a muscle, not an inch. He stayed watching the man like a hawk, clutching his bleeding chest until he gave a slight nod. Had you blinked you would’ve missed it. 

Zoro stood up, dusting off his knees and sheathing his sword. 

He turned toward the door and grabbed your hand on his way out taking you with him. 

The urge to turn around and look bubbled up inside you—to see him as devastated as you had been, to see him experience the pain you had felt. 

And as though he had read your mind Zoro gave your hand a squeeze.

Keep walking, he told you. 

You steeled yourself and walked out hand in hand with Zoro, whose hand was warm with speckled blood. 

He led you around the side of the bar, stopping only when you were tucked away in the alley. 

It was silent, neither of you saying anything. 

You looked up at him, making eye contact finally. He seemed somewhat embarrassed, his cheeks were fairly pink. 

You figured maybe he was regretting his rash actions but he was only really freaking out about having held your hand for so long. 

“Zoro…” 

“It’s nothing, really. He was a dick. Ex-boyfriend?” he said, trying badly to hide his jealousy.

It was funny– how he could go from quasi-murderer to shy schoolboy in minutes.

“Something like that,” you replied, looking away from his face, messing around with the hem of your shirt. Your eyes were starting to water again. 

“Hey, hey,” he said, leaning down to take your face between his thumb and forefinger, “What did he do? I’ll go back and kill him.”

You laughed, sniffling in between, “He just… He left me with no explanation and showed up out of nowhere today. It was so long ago I shouldn’t care. I don’t! But seeing him all of a sudden was just-”

Zoro wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest where you let several more tears flow, staining his shirt.

He petted your head, holding you close to him with his free arm unsure of what to say. 

“‘m sorry, Y/n,” he muttered, shuffling his feet, “I shouldn’t’ve asked.”

“It’s okay!” you insisted, wiping your eyes with the backs of your hand. 

Zoro, who’d only known you for a few months, had defended you and your honor without a second thought. And though he’d probably been a little excessive your heart swelled at the thought of how he’d stood up for you. 

““Sorry about your shirt,” you muttered, patting the stains on his chest where you’d soaked his shirt with tears, 

He looked down and smiled, “It’s ok. It’s an old shirt anyway.”

You laughed, “Yeah and it’s not super clean either.”

His cheeks grew pink and he lightly punched your arm.

You suddenly grabbed his hands in yours, surprising him.

You squeezed his hands extra tight and looked up at him, “Thank you, Zoro. Seriously. I don’t know why I didn’t knock him out myself and I never shut down like that but I– Thank you.”

Zoro nodded, giving you a small squeeze back. 

“I would do anything for you,” he admitted. More to himself than you. 

Warmth crept up your neck and into your face. 

“I mean– ‘Cause you’re my crewmate! I’d do anything for any of you guys, obviously. Maybe not Sanji but, well, yes him too just don’t tell him I said that.. But I meant, as in, like,” he rambled suddenly realizing what he’d said. 

His hands still in yours you pulled him down, crashing your lips into his. The sudden addition of his full body weight on top of yours sent you both falling backward, stumbling until your back hit the brick wall behind you. 

“Oh, shit– sorry! Sorry,” he said, pulling away from you.

“No, don’t be! I shouldn’t have….”

“Kissed me?”

“Pulled you so hard,” you responded, your hands still holding the other’s, “Thank you. I hope that shows I really mean it.”

His eyes were looking anywhere but yours and his cheeks were a furious shade of pink. 

His hands were still in yours and he gently shook yours off.

“Zoro?”

He stayed silent, embarrassed and unbelievably happy, and wrapped his arms around you again. You were pulled into his chest and he stayed quiet, hugging you tight. 

Ah, you understood, he didn’t want you seeing him so vulnerable. 

“You know,” you said, your voice muffled by his chest, “I can’t kiss you again if you hold me down here.”

You felt him tense up and his arms stiffen around you. 

“Fine with me,” he grumbled.

“You’re blushing, huh?”

“.........No.”

“Then let me out.”

“Will I get a kiss?”

“Thought you didn’t want one.”

He pushed you off his chest and started marching back in the general direction of the Thousand Sunny, grabbing his bandana and wrapping it around the lower half of his face, leaving you behind.

You laughed and ran behind him trying to grab the bandana away from his face which he was holding out of your reach. 

You could see the ship in the distance and Zoro had started laughing too, getting more and more comfortable with the pink hue of his face. 

Sanji and Nami were a little further down the way yelling at Luffy who’d ran off with a bag of groceries. 

You paused for a moment, looking at all these people who loved you and, all of the sudden, the past wasn’t all that important. 

Zoro turned, noticing your absence. Nami had spotted the two of you and was waving. 

“Coming?”

[mesetacadre]

hi, love your blog! have you heard of "maga communism"? i personally find it pretty silly, but it does open up some questions and conversations about reactionary/conservative beliefs within communist movements and individual communists (can you call a reactionary a communist?). most "maga communist" and similar tendencies i have seen were pretty exclusively on twitter so far, for example individual self-described communists being homophobic (talking about "bourgeois decadence" and all that, you know the story), but its also rather concerning considering the recent transphobic course of the CPGB, or the homophobic statements of the KKE. how to deal with such tendencies in the movement? are such tendencies compatible with communist thought? (i personally dont think so, but how do you change such tendencies?) would love to hear your thoughts on that!

MAGA communism is a US-specific subset of "patriotic socialism", patsoc for short. MAGA communism in particular peddles republican and other reactionary positions via pseudo-communist rhetoric. This isn't something new, almost if not all factions of the bourgeois political establishment use workerist rhetoric to some degree, such is their function to mislead the working class. The only thing that stands out to me from this sect is the outright self-labelling of being communists. Take even a shallow step into their positions however, and you'll find run-of-the-mill reactionarism and nationalism.

This is a very different phenomenon from actual communists taking some reactionary positions but who are otherwise quite "normal", and from actual socialist countries fostering some kind of patriotism.

Regarding the latter, the example I'm most familiar with is Cuba. Following their triumph in both national liberation from colonialism and the socialist revolution, one aspect of Cuba's strategy for security and that also was a natural rationalization of their victory was the proliferation of pride in the Cuban revolution. Critically, this form of pride is not like the usual (bourgeois, as in, the emergence of nationalism within the rise of capitalism) nationalism, but the expression of international solidarity with all peoples and honor in being one of the groups of workers who achieved self liberation. It's a pride of the Cuban revolution, not the Cuban nation in itself. There are no traces of superiority over other peoples in this kind of patriotism. This is categorically very different from what the patsoc types express.

"Normal" communists taking reactionary positions comes from a vestige of the capitalist culture that is hammered into every single one of us emerging because of an unfinished education in marxist philosophy. The solution to this is very simple, that is to continue the development of our mistaken comrade, and adequate punishment if those beliefs resulted in harm.

I also want to make dedicated points about the CPGB and the KKE. The CPGB, like most other historical Communist Parties in Western Europe, folded themselves into reformism within liberal democracy following the eurocommunist current that arose in the second half of the 20th century. The fact that the CPGB has adopted reactionary positions is a consequence of having embedded itself into parliamentarism, as the political consensus amongst bourgeois parties in the UK right now is that of transphobia and racism, they are following the same general shift that Labour has.

The KKE is a different story. I have talked to a (trans) militant of the KKE about this, as well as with another (cishet) militant. They say that the KKE's opposition to the introduction of homosexual marriage in the Greek parliament (which was thankfully passed) comes from a non-homophobic critique that was, however, badly communicated. The KKE has repeatedly proposed separating marriage itself from the legal and financial benefits that it carries. For example, instead of only being allowed to visit someone in a hospital if you're family or married, the KKE proposes that people should be able to authorize anyone to have these sorts of benefits without also having to marry them.

The voting against homosexual marriage was done on the grounds that the institution of marriage involves unnecessary state involvement in interpersonal relationships and abuse, since these benefits also sometimes lead to couples who can't afford to divorce. Was voting against gay marriage the best course of action? No, and the militants I've talked to agree. But it was never about the KKE believing that homosexuality is "bourgeois decadence", like some media outlets have twisted it, just like most ML Party positions are twisted in some way or another.

It also does not help that translations from Greek aren't that simple, and that can also lead to misinterpretation in subjects where nuanced language is very important, such as trans people. There are no separate words in Greek for "sex" and "gender", even though in English they are complicated terms with a lot of drawbacks, it is immensely useful to have separate words. So discussion in Greek about this, and more importantly translation, can very easily be misinterpreted or deliberately misconstrued.

I am not saying that the KKE is free from reactionary tendencies and that it's a paragon of absolute social progress, but just like it isn't that, it is also not comparable with crypto-fascists or glorified socdems playing into transphobic or racist tendencies. This leads me to a broader point about general reactionary thought in the past.

There is no doubt that people like Stalin or Lenin, or more appropriately the vast majority of ML parties in the past were homophobic (I'm using this term to also include transphobia and similar discriminations) and that they instituted policies that specifically hurt queer people. No serious communist today abides by those positions and those actions. And just like we can understand that an individual communist today may be insufficiently educated and express reactionary views and hurt people because of this, I think the analogy can be made that these past communist people and parties hadn't yet been sufficiently educated by practice and theoretical discussions. We can't ignore the harm that they did, but we can recognize that it was in no way necessary, and that it was counterproductive, so we can acknowledge those mistakes, carefully separate those elements from the rest of their achievements, and learn about them.

A good example of this evolution is Cuba. In the times of Che and Fidel, queer people were discriminated against and sometimes sentenced to forced labor, nobody denies this. But this was 50 years ago, and not only did Fidel recognize this mistake in this lifetime, he began the process of improving the party line on this which has resulted in one of, if not the most progressive laws regarding homosexuality in the world, in the form of 2022's family code, which you can read here in Spanish. I have copied part of article 4 below, which regulates the rights of people within a family, along with my own translation just below:

Artículo 4. Derechos de las personas en el ámbito familiar. a) Constituir una familia; b) la vida familiar; c) la igualdad plena en materia filiatoria; d) que se respete el libre desarrollo de la personalidad, la intimidad y el proyecto de vida personal y familiar; e) que las niñas, los niños y adolescentes crezcan en un entorno familiar de felicidad, amor y comprensión; f) la igualdad plena entre mujeres y hombres, a la distribución equitativa del tiempo destinado al trabajo doméstico y de cuidado entre todos los miembros de la familia, sin sobrecargas para ninguno de ellos, y a que se respete el derecho de las parejas a decidir si desean tener descendencia y el número y el momento para hacerlo, preservando, en todo caso, el derecho de las mujeres a decidir sobre sus cuerpos; g) el desarrollo pleno de los derechos sexuales y reproductivos en el entorno familiar, independientemente de su sexo, género, orientación sexual e identidad de género, situación de discapacidad o cualquier otra circunstancia personal; incluido el derecho a la información científica sobre la sexualidad, la salud sexual y la planificación familiar, en todo caso, apropiados para su edad; h) la protección a la maternidad y la paternidad y la promoción de su desarrollo responsable; i) una vida familiar libre de discriminación y violencia en cualesquiera de sus manifestaciones; j) una armónica y estrecha comunicación familiar entre las abuelas, abuelos, otros parientes, personas afectivamente cercanas y las niñas, los niños y adolescentes; k) la autodeterminación, voluntades, deseos, preferencias, independencia y la igualdad de oportunidades en la vida familiar de las personas adultas mayores y aquellas en situación de discapacidad; y l) al cuidado familiar desde el afecto.

And the translation (OC)

Article 4: A person's rights in the context of the family a) To build a family; b) to family life; c) to full equality in filial matters; d) for the free development of personality, intimacy, and the personal and familiar life project to be respected; e) for the boys and girls and adolescents to mature in a familiar environment of happiness, love, and compassion; f) the full equality between men and women, the egalitarian distribution of domestic work and care between all members of the family, without overburden to any of them, and for a couple's right to decide if they want descendants and the number and time to do so to be respected, preserving, in every case, the right for a woman to decide over her own body; g) the full development of sexual and reproductive rights in the familiar environment, independently of their sex, gender, sexual orientation, and gender identity, disability, or any other personal circumstance; including the right to scientific information about sexuality, sexual health, and family planning, in every case, suitably for their age; h) the protection of maternity and paternity and the promotion of its responsible progress; i) a familiar life free of discrimination and violence in whichever of their manifestations; j) a harmonious and close communication between grandmothers, grandfathers, other relatives, people who are affectionately close, and the girls, boys, and adolescents; k) the self-determination, wills, desires, preferences, independence and equality of opportunity in the familiar life of adult people and those in a situation of disability; and l) to affectionate familiar care.