#the brothers share while the sister gets her own space >_<< /div>
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nervocat · 5 days ago
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My sillies <3
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itneverendshere · 2 months ago
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saw that jj is readers neighbor. and i see rafe absolutely hating him, until he realizes that you take care of him like he’s your baby brother, especially when things get a little rough at his house
omg yesssss! it's kinda funny that he's beefing with a teenager. thank you for the request! 🩵🫂 alsojj never met milo before bc he only showed up after the kid was already sleeping, cause luke had a tendency to get rowdier at night 😣.
you're on your own kid - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)
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There’s no way in hell JJ Maybank is sitting on your couch while you’re cooking away. 
Rafe swears he’s lost his mind. Maybe he hit his head harder than he thought when he was out on the boat earlier because what he’s seeing doesn’t make any sense.
There’s no way JJ is sitting there, his legs propped up on your coffee table like he owns the place. Like he belongs here. In your place. Your sister's place.
For a second, he thinks he’s gotta be dreaming. But nope, it’s real. The smell of whatever you’re cooking from the kitchen hits him in the face, and JJ’s laughter echoes through the living room.
This is your house, your space, and somehow JJ’s sitting there like he’s been here a thousand times before. He’s gotta say something.
Rafe clears his throat, trying to keep his voice normal but it comes out tight, strained. “What the hell’s Maybank doing here?”
You don’t even look up from the stove, just wave a hand in his direction, like it’s no big deal.
Like he’s no big deal. “Relax, baby. He’s just having dinner.”
“Dinner?” Rafe practically chokes on the word.
JJ catches the look on his face and smirks, leaning back further into the couch cushions.
“What, never seen a guy eat before, Cameron?”
Rafe scoffs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Dinner? At your place? Since when are you and Maybank this close?”
His eyes narrow on JJ, sprawled out on the couch like he’s got nowhere better to be. The guy’s even wearing his boots, dirt probably all over your cushions, and Rafe’s practically grinding his teeth at the sight.
JJ just smirks, because of course he does. “Jealous or somethin’, Cameron? Didn’t think you’d care.”
But then you walk over with a plate and set it down in front of JJ, and Rafe watches in shock as you ruffle his hair, so casually it’s like second nature to you.
Like you’ve done it a hundred times before.
JJ’s eating like it’s the first meal he’s had in days, and Rafe’s brain is still trying to catch up with what the hell is happening here.
You and JJ? Since when? Rafe’s stomach twists at the thought, because why would you even care about a guy like JJ? 
The guy’s got that scruffy look, bruises on his knuckles and faint ones on his arms. Rafe’s seen it before, the evidence of fights and bad nights. He knows what goes on at JJ’s house. He’s heard the stories. The arguments that spill out onto the streets late at night, the way JJ disappears for a while and comes back worse than before.
And then it hits him.
You’re not just letting him crash here.
You’re taking care of him. Looking out for him in ways that nobody else does, making sure he doesn’t completely spiral with a father like Luke Maybank.
JJ speaks up, grinning with his mouth full of food. “Her food’s so good, you gotta try it.”
“I’m her boyfriend, you think I haven’t tried her cooking?”
He’s being ridiculous, knows he’s not really jealous of a seventeen-year-old. It’s not that he’s threatened by JJ—hell no. It’s more that...he doesn’t like sharing you. Even if it’s just dinner.
He’s proud of you, though. Always has been. That big heart of yours, helping out some kid who clearly needs it.
Rafe crosses his arms, leaning against the doorway. “Since when did my girl become a goddamn soup kitchen?” The words come out harsher than he means them to, but you just glance over your shoulder and roll your eyes.
You know him too well by now.
“Baby, it’s just dinner. JJ’s had a rough day.”
“Yeah, well, so have I,” Rafe mutters under his breath, but he doesn’t push it. He can’t really. 
He knows the guys has been through it, and yeah, his dad’s a piece of work. But that doesn’t make it easier to see him sitting here, all cozy in the life Rafe’s tried to build with you. Yeah, maybe you fucking spoiled him because know the mere thought of another guy being in your space makes his blood boil. 
JJ wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, “Chill, Cameron. You’re acting like I’m movin’ in or something.”
He remembers being that kid—lost, angry, with no place to feel safe. JJ might be annoying as fuck, a walking nightmare to be around, but Rafe can’t hate him for that. Not really.
“Yeah, well, don’t get too comfortable,” Rafe mutters. He looks at you, softening. “You’ve got a heart too big for your own good, y'know that?”
“I thought you loved that about me?” You tease, turning back to the stove.
“’Course I do.” Rafe crosses the room, sitting on the arm of the couch, close enough to you but still keeping an eye on JJ. He watches as you stir something on the stove, a soft smile pulling at the corner of his mouth despite everything. Yeah, he gets annoyed, but fuck if he doesn’t love you for exactly this. You just have a way of making people feel safe, even the ones that don’t deserve it—or maybe need it most.
JJ leans back, letting out a satisfied groan. "God, that was good. She ever cook like this for you, Cameron?"
Rafe shoots him a look, eyebrows raised. "Yeah, maybe when you’re not eating all my food."
JJ just laughs, completely unfazed. “You’re lucky, man.”
Rafe doesn't answer, just stares at him, half of him wanting to tell him to get out and the other half knowing how good it must feel for the kid to have a moment where he doesn’t have to worry about anything. Rafe’s been there—different situation, same lost feeling. He looks at you again, knowing it’s you that pulled him out of that place. And now here you are, doing the same thing for JJ.
With a sigh, he slides off the couch and walks over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. “You know you’re too good for him, right?”
You laugh, leaning back into him. “For him? Or for you?”
Rafe presses a kiss to your shoulder, smiling despite himself. “Both. Definitely both.”
His lips linger there for another second before JJ’s speaking again, “Alright, y’all don’t have to be disgusting while I’m sitting here trying to digest. Seriously, have some respect. I’m a guest.”
Rafe’s jaw tightens, but he can’t help but laugh under his breath, his forehead dropping against your back. “You gotta be kidding me.” He sighs dramatically, loosening his grip on you and stepping back, but he’s still got that smirk. “You hear that, baby? We’re offending the guest. Can’t have that.”
JJ rolls his eyes so hard Rafe’s sure he’s gonna get stuck that way. “Yeah, you two keep it up, and I’m gonna lose this amazing meal you just made. Not trying to see all that lovey-dovey shit.”
Rafe leans against the counter, arms crossed, shaking his head. “You know, most people would be grateful for a free dinner.”
You toss a dish towel at JJ, which he dodges with a snicker. “You’re welcome to leave, you know.”
“Nah, nah,” JJ says quickly, stuffing the bread in his mouth. “I’m good right here.”  He stretches out again, clearly getting way too comfortable. “But if y’all could just tone down the romance while I’m around, that’d be great.”
Rafe’s still grinning, even though part of him wants to wipe that smirk right off JJ’s face. “You jealous, Maybank?”
JJ gives an exaggerated shrug. “Nah. I got my priorities straight.”
“Yeah? Like what? Getting on my last fucking nerve?” Rafe shoots back.
JJ lifts his hands in surrender, still grinning like a kid who knows exactly how make him lose his temper. “Hey, I’m just saying. Don’t go making me regret this free meal, alright?”
He glances over at you, and you’re shaking your head, smiling like this whole thing is the most entertaining show you’ve seen all week.
“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” Rafe mutters, still eyeing JJ. “This is a one-time thing.”
JJ chuckles, unfazed. “Whatever helps you sleep at night. Just remember, I’m your girl’s favorite.” He flashes you a wink, and Rafe’s this close to tossing the bread basket at his head and tossing him out on the street.
JJ’s annoying, no doubt, but he understand, or at least he's trying to, that you’re doing it for a reason—helping the kid out, making sure he’s got a safe place for at least one night.
No matter how much he pisses him off, Rafe respects that. For your sake.
“You keep running your mouth and you’re both sleeping on the porch.”
Rafe turns to you, offended, “The fuck did I do?”
“You know exactly what you did,” you say, shaking your head. “Always making things competitive.”
Rafe scoffs, standing a little straighter.
“Competitive? Baby, I’m just protecting what’s mine.” He throws a glance at JJ, who’s still lounging on the couch like he owns the place.
“Man, protectin’ what?” JJ pipes up, laughing through his words. “I’m just here for the food and the show.” He gestures between the two of you. “Y’all could make a fortune if you charged admission. People love drama.”
Rafe rolls his eyes. “You’re lucky they’re not charging you rent at this point.”
He’s about to tell him to shove off the couch and leave, but the front door swings open. Monica walks in arms full of grocery bags. Little Milo is trailing behind her, clutching a stuffed dinosaur in one hand and a juice box in the other. The moment he sees Rafe, his face lights up.
“Uncle Rafey!” Milo yells, charging toward him with all the energy of a four-year-old hyped up on apple juice.
He bends down and scoops Milo up, setting him on his hip. “Hey kid. What’s up?”
Milo grins and holds up his juice box. “I got juice!”
Rafe chuckles, “Juice, huh? Sounds like a big day.”
Meanwhile, Monica’s busy setting the groceries on the counter, glancing at JJ sprawled out on the couch. She shoots Rafe a look, half-exasperated, half-amused. “Looks like we have an extra child in the house today.”
JJ, clearly not catching the jab, raises a hand. “Hey, Monica. I’m just keeping the couch warm.”
Milo tugs on Rafe’s shirt, completely oblivious to the grown-up talk. “Uncle Rafe, can I have a cookie?”
“Maybe after dinner, bud,” Rafe says, setting him down gently. “Go help your mom, okay?”
Milo pouts for a second but quickly gets distracted by the sight of JJ. He stares at him curiously, tilting his head. “Who’s that?”
JJ leans over the back of the couch, grinning. “I’m JJ. You can call me… your favorite new friend.”
Milo looks at him like he’s deciding if JJ is cool or just weird. After a second, he grins back. “Okay, JJ. Can I sit with you?”
“Sure, kid. Hop on up.”
Rafe watches as Milo clambers onto the couch next to JJ, giggling when JJ pretends to steal his dinosaur. It’s almost funny—if he wasn’t so good at making himself at home.
Monica, catching the scene, sighs and shakes her head. “Great, now he’s corrupted Milo.”
Rafe crosses his arms, unable to suppress a smirk. “He’s already got enough bad influences in his life.”
She raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Yeah, starting with you.”
Rafe raises his hands in surrender, laughing. “Fair enough.”
You’re leaning against the counter, watching the whole scene unfold, and suddenly, it just hits you.
Rafe with Milo, the way he softens when your nephew runs up to him, lifting him like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Milo’s giggles fill the room and then there’s Monica, half-smiling at Rafe’s attempts to wrangle Milo, even with JJ sprawled out on the couch, egging the kid on.
Your heart feels so full, you almost can’t stand it. It’s one of those moments where everything just… clicks. You try to keep it together, but there’s this warm feeling in your chest, and you blink back the unexpected tears. How could you feel anything but love for all of them in this moment? 
Rafe catches you staring, his eyes softening when he sees the look on your face. He raises an eyebrow, but he’s already smiling at you, “What’s that look for?”
You shake your head, grinning despite the lump in your throat. “Nothing. Just... you guys. It’s... a lot.”
JJ, ever the clown, groans from the couch, “Oh God, please don’t get all mushy now."
But you can’t help it. You step closer to Rafe, wrapping your arms around his waist, laying your head against his chest. “I just love you. All of you.”
Rafe chuckles softly, kissing the top of your head. “Love you too.”
Monica glances over with a knowing look, shaking her head. “Alright, enough of this sentimental stuff. You’re gonna make me cry, and I just got home.”
You stay wrapped in Rafe’s arms for a moment, just soaking in the warmth around you. Monica’s pulling plates from the cabinet, setting them on the table with her usual no-nonsense efficiency. JJ’s somehow got Milo giggling uncontrollably, making goofy faces and pretending to steal his dinosaur every few seconds. The kid’s losing it, practically bouncing off the couch in fits of laughter.
Rafe leans down, his lips close to your ear. “You’re okay?” he murmurs against your hair.
You smile, nodding against his chest. “Yeah. Better than good, actually.”
He pulls back slightly to look at you, his blue eyes scanning your face like he’s trying to read every thought behind it. “You sure? You looked like you were about to cry a second ago.”
You laugh a little, wiping under your eye, even though the tears never really fell. “It’s just... this. All of this. It’s perfect, you know? I don’t know. It feels like family.”
“You really think so?” Rafe asks quietly.
You nod, feeling that same warmth flood your chest again. “Yeah, I do. I love it. I love us.”
He smiles, a little crooked but real, the kind of smile you don’t see too often, but when you do, it hits you in the heart. “I love us too.”
For a second, the noise around you fades, and it’s just you and Rafe, holding onto each other like you’re the only two people in the room.
Then, predictably, JJ ruins it. “Hey, lovebirds! Save that for later. You’re killing Milo’s vibe.”
You both turn to see JJ standing with his hands on his hips, looking dramatic as ever. Milo’s grinning, clutching his dinosaur to his chest like it’s his new best friend. 
“Yeah, stop kissin'!” Milo chimes in, giggling.
You rolls your eyes but pull away from Rafe with a chuckle. “Alright, alright. No more kissing.”
Monica smirks as she finishes setting the last plate. “Don’t worry, Milo. They’ll be gross later when you’re in bed.”
Rafe gives your sister a mock glare. “You’re hilarious.”
She pats him on the back, grinning. “It’s what I’m here for.”
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motomamita · 6 months ago
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singledad!eddie × pregnant!female!reader
warnings: smut, +18, mentions of breast milk, breeding kink, no condom, pregnant sex!
Part. 1
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Upon hearing the news of your positive test, Eddie was eager and happy to be able to share this new stage with you. However, his happiness faded when you met him at your trailer one afternoon to talk.
Distraught and with Lily playing at your feet, you told him that while you were delighted to take care of Lily, you still didn't feel ready to raise a child of your own. You were too young and Lily already required too much time and energy that you didn't know if you would be able to give to another baby. Eddie lowered his head, watching as Lily played with the laces of your sneakers as she babbled 'mom' at you. Sad but accepting your decision, he lifted his daughter in his arms and began to talk to her, explaining the situation.
"Don't be sad, my little flower. Your little brother or sister won't be able to come this time, but I assure you that soon you will have one to play with..." Eddie spoke sweetly to Lily and, as if she understood his words, pouted and sob.
Obviously that broke your heart. So much so that in the end you surrendered to him and decided to continue with your pregnancy.
You moved into Eddie's trailer, so you could take care of Lily more comfortably and little by little you would accommodate the space to receive the new baby. Gradually you began to adapt to life there, and to be with both of them almost 24/7. Eddie left for work in the morning and returned a little before dinner. Some days he would pick you up and would go to the mall to buy things necessary for your pregnancy.
Eddie was delighted and even seemed to enjoy the purchases more than you. He loved choosing your maternity dresses, your braziers and even the most comfortable underwear for you. While you were inside the dressing room, he stayed with Lily outside the room while he softly sang her a lullaby. Every time you came out to show off how your clothes fit, he would whistle at you flirtatiously and Lily would applaud awkwardly.
Inevitably you managed to fall in love with him. He was too attentive, loving and understanding with you and Lily. He enjoyed accompanying you to the doctor, listening carefully to every word he said and asking a lot of questions about how to cope better with the pregnancy. Sometimes after work he brought with him magazines with advice for the first pregnancy and several classical music albums, because according to him: 'scientists say that the baby can be smarter if he listens to Beethoven or Mozart!'. True or not, the reality is that he did everything possible to keep his family happy.
As the months passed, your belly increased in size and you experienced several signs and symptoms. Your feet began to hurt and so did the desire for strange food combinations. Eddie knew it and for that same reason on the weekends he took full care of Lily so you could rest. He would place your feet in warm water and massage them while he told you the list of names he had been making. He also made sure to leave the cupboard and refrigerator full of candy and other possible foods that you might want such as ice cream, cookies, chips, gummies and even pickles.
As for sex, it had never really stopped. What's more, his desire for you seemed to have increased as the weeks passed, taking advantage of every opportunity he had to make you his. Despite having a little girl in home, Eddie was quite creative when it came to getting between your legs. You could wake up in the middle of the night with his cock inside your pussy, his hands on your sensitive nipples and hot breath in your ear. Or during a quick shower, he would sneak between the curtains, helping you soap your back and taking the opportunity to kiss every sensitive part of your skin. Otherwise, far from the gaze of Lily who was playing in the living room, he would put his face under your dress to taste the juices of your pussy.
That Friday everything was as usual. Lily, who had barely begun to walk, played with holding on to the couch while moving her body from one side to the other to the rhythm of Beethoven. You gave the final details to the table and looked from time to time at the lasagna that was cooking in the oven. The sound of Eddie's truck's engine alerted you both that he was already there. Lily gave a little scream, anticipating her father's arrival.
"Daddy's home!" Eddie announced himself, informing the house. You received it with a small smile, letting Lily be the first to receive it. Seeing him, she began to walk clumsily into the arms of her father, who hugged her tightly. "Good job, Lily!" He smiled, picking her up in his arms and approaching you. "How did my girls behave?" He asked, giving you a sweet kiss on the lips and touching your belly tenderly. "And this little one? Can't wait to get out? Mm?"
"The food is ready." you announced, wiping your hands on your apron.
Eddie took Lily to the bathroom to wash her hands, telling the little girl about his day at work as if she understood something. Once at the table, you began to eat while the music played. You and Eddie helped the little girl eat her food, wiping her mouth every time she spit out a bit of it.
When he finished, Eddie took care of cleaning her and taking her to her crib to sleep. For your part, you picked up the dishes and were about to wash up when you felt Eddie's hands on your belly.
"Leave it, I'll wash them later. The food was delicious, so you deserve to rest, mommy." He speak and then kiss your cheek. You didn't object and left things to go sit with him on the couch. "How do you feel?" He asked, caressing your thighs and letting his rings make your skin crawl.
"Okay, a little tired. As Lily starts walking alone I should have been more careful that she doesn't set the house on fire." you joked, remembering the childrens prank she was slowly starting to get up to. "I missed you." You murmured, somewhat embarrassed by how much you needed him.
"Yeah? How much?" Eddie asked with a mischievous smile on his face, squeezing your thighs slightly.
"So, so much.." Eddie growled, knowing the tone of voice you used when you needed more than a kiss or hug.
Eddie approached and joined his lips with yours in a loud, wet kiss. He brought one of his hands to the back of your neck, grabbing some of your hair while his other hand moved up your thigh to your center.
"Poor mommy, spending so many hours here with my baby..." he murmured, separating himself a little. "Alone and without anyone who can satisfy and fill that sweet, tight pussy.." he massage your pussy over your underwear.
"You're bad, very bad for always leaving me wanting more..." you complain and then moans when he found your clit lightly pinched by him.
"I know, my queen, I know... but now I'm here..." Eddie pulled her hair a little, making you moan. "I'm all yours, use me however you want."
It was a matter of minutes before you found yourself on top of Eddie, naked, riding his big cock. Your swollen breasts bounced with each sit on his hard cock, leaving such an exciting sight for Eddie who watched you with his hands behind his head.
"Come on, mommy. Milk this cock." His words did nothing but encourage you to move your hips faster and making the clash of skin echo through the room. "Fuuck, that's right.. Use me, use me.." Eddie closed his eyes, moaning at the way your pussy rode his cock with ease.
You placed your hands on his chest, digging your nails and trying to stabilize yourself, making his cock go even deeper in you in that new position.
"God.. Look at your tits, they are so big.. And heavy.." Eddie brought his hands to her breasts, making circles on her erect nipples and pressing them lightly in the hope that milk would come out of them. "I promise you that as soon as your sweet milk starts coming out of here, I will be the first to taste it.." you moaned when you heard it. "Uh? You like that? Would you like to breastfeed me?" You bit your lower lip, nodding madly and still moving.
Just thinking about it made Eddie even more horny. He brought his hands to your waist, carefully pulling you towards him to begin penetrating you hard. His hips rose and fell quickly, hitting his pubis against your clit and rubbing your tits against his beefy chest.
"I'm going to fill you with my cum again and again..." he moaned as his balls slapped against part of your ass. "Tell me...Who did this to you? Uh? Who put a baby inside you?" He asked, looking lustfully into your eyes while one of his hands caressed your belly.
"You- It was you.." you managed to say with a broken voice, completely overstimulated. Eddie smiled proudly at your words, changing his thrusts for slower but deeper ones.
"That's right, mommy.. You're so good that your fertile womb took my semen the first time.. Good girl." You moaned at his compliments, feeling your orgasm approaching. "Are you going to cum? Mmh?" He asked sweetly, caressing your face as you nodded your head. "Come on, cum for me..." those words were enough for seconds later his cock was wet with your sweet nectar.
Eddie took care of cleaning you, covering you with a blanket and placing you on his chest. Your head was spinning, dazed and in some sort of subspace. He noticed it, caressed your hair and let him slowly put you back together while you listened to his heartbeat.
"Hey, I have to show you something." He spoke to you after a few minutes. You raised your head to look at him, Eddie reached into one of the pockets of his jacket and pulled out a small box. "Remember what I told you the first time..." he stretched out his words, referring to the time he fucked you on that same couch. "What did I tell you?"
You thought for a few seconds before answering. "That you would make me a baby." You responded confidently and Eddie laughed when he heard you. "And that you would make me your wife" You added, remembering the situation even more.
"Very good.." he smiled at you and brought the small box to your hands. "Well, I think it's time to make it official..." you slowly opened the box and found a beautiful ring inside. "Will you marry me?"
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ladykailitha · 2 months ago
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Eddie and Nancy
Just giving my brain a break from the Secret Tunnel (aka the game show) story. I still have two chapters to get through and my brain needs a cool down.
I've seen a lot of headcanons that Eddie is the Wheeler children's older half brother because of how much they look like each other.
But may I propose instead: cousins.
Hear me out.
You have first born, Elizabeth. Absolute hippie child. All about that free love, sex, drugs, and rock and roll. She learns how to play guitar, falls in with the charming and cool, Al Munson. They plan to tour the country his beat up old truck. But before that can happen, Elizabeth gets pregnant with Eddie. So she marries Al.
Then you have Karen, the younger sister. Bright, demure, absolute golden child. She dyes her hair and blows out the curls to more like waves so she doesn't look like Elizabeth anymore.
She does what she was raised her whole life to do. Get married to a good boy so they can have good children and pay taxes and never do anything fun.
When Elizabeth dies, Karen refuses to go to the funeral, hates that her name is even in the obituary at all. Then three years later when Al is sent to prison, CPS calls her first.
She's the boy's aunt. She has a comfortable home, and bringing him in would barely dent their finances. But Karen refuses. She won't have that delinquent anywhere near her children.
So they go to Wayne. Wayne who really doesn't have the space or the money to take care a little boy almost teenager. But he looks into those big brown eyes and can't say no.
They keep apart until the murders in town start in Wayne's own god damn trailer. He keeps his mouth shut when Nancy comes up to him asking about Eddie. He would like to throw it in her face that he knows who she is and that he knows full well that Karen would throw a fucking fit if she found out where her daughter was. But he won't. It's not the girl's fault her mother is a bitch.
After Vecna (and Eddie NOT dying) Nancy is sent to the attic to see if she can find some of Mike's old things to donate as a lot of Nancy's went to Holly. She finds an old trunk and though locked it comes apart in her hands. In it she finds dozens of pictures of her mom with beautiful girl with flying dark brown curls and sparkling eyes.
She smiles as she reminds her of Eddie.
Her mother calls out for her to hurry and slips one of the pictures in her back jeans pocket. Nancy closes the trunk and hurries back to her mother.
Then because Nancy can't leave a mystery well enough alone, she goes digging. All while Eddie and Max are in a coma, Nancy works on her mystery.
She finds her answer in the most unlikely of places. Joyce Byers's year book. She had it out showing her boys the outrageous hair styles they had in her day.
There two rows down from Lawrence Byers is an Elizabeth Childress. She's got ribbons in her hair and smiling brightly at camera. So full of life.
Childress.
She closes her eyes. There is no doubt this is her mother's sister. A sister Nancy never knew anything about.
She points her out to Joyce. "Oh, I remember her. Such a sweet girl. It's really too bad she fell in with that Munson boy. Or rather the wrong Munson boy."
She flips the pages and on the same row as her, is Wayne Munson staring up at her. So happy and free. The Vietnam would too soon take that from him. "That's Wayne. Such a good boy. Elizabeth would have thrived with him. But Wayne was shy and more interested in getting good grades than girls."
Joyce flips back to the seniors with Jim and Lonnie and began searching for the M's. "There." She pointed at another boy. Alan Munson. "He was trouble from the moment he was born. But he had a motorcycle and a leather jacket. Lizzy fell hard. They got married right out of high school, I heard."
Jonathan and Nancy share a look of shock.
"What happened to her?" Jonathan asks.
"Cancer," Joyce says sadly, "poor thing."
Armed with her knowledge and a borrowed yearbook, Nancy marches right up to her mother and slams the yearbook in front of her. The picture Nancy took from the attic serves as bookmark and she shoves both at her mother.
There is no denying it now. All the proof is right there in black and white.
"This is why you didn't want to join the D&D club my freshman year, isn't it? Because it was Eddie's club?"
Karen buries her head in her hands. And the truth just starts spilling out.
"And that boy is just like his father!" Karen cries. "He might have not have killed those kids but he was a drug dealer."
"To keep the lights on his trailer!" Nancy yells back. "If you and Dad had taken him in maybe he wouldn't have turned out the way he did. Maybe he be a better person."
"Or maybe he would have dragged you other children with him!"
"If you really thought that Mike wouldn't have been allow in Hellfire either!"
It's at this point Mike walks in and suddenly Karen is caught.
She breaks down and explains that Eddie had helped her with her car right before Mike started high school. So as a way to return the favor she let Mike join.
Nancy heads to the hospital and manages to get into see Eddie.
Wayne tells her only family is allowed to see him and Nancy smiles.
She knows.
Then Eddie wakes up, falls for Steve, the whole party teases Steve about keeping it in the family and Karen gets her head out of her ass and everyone lives happily ever after.
The end.
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vigilante-3073 · 24 days ago
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All Those Who Go Unnoticed
Evan Buckley x Female Reader
Summary: Evan Buckley has always been left behind and forgotten about. What happens when someone finally decides to stay?
TW: Mentions of neglect and self-deprecating thoughts, angst, friends to lovers.
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Evan Buckley was born to serve a purpose that he could not fulfill. His parents only had another child in a futile attempt to save his older brother Daniel. After his brother had passed away, Buck's parents treated him like he was a waste of space. Everything he did was wrong and he couldn't seem to ever find himself in their good graces.
Buck relied on his older sister Maddie for years until she eventually left him behind to start a life of her own. Buck left home as soon as he could, but struggled to find himself for years. He bounced between jobs in search of something that could make him feel like he mattered.
Everything fell into place when he decided to become a firefighter.
Buck loved his job at the 118, he saved lives everyday with some of the most amazing people he had ever met. He found a family that valued him and treated him how he deserved to be treated. Despite having everything he had spent his life searching for, Buck still felt like nothing he did was good enough.
He could have been smarter. He could have been faster. He could have done more.
Buck had never told anyone how critical he could be of himself. It was something that he always dealt with, definitely a mindset created by his parents.
Buck always felt like he had to prove himself and show everyone that he had value. It was a never-ending quest that weighed on him heavily.
Y/N had quickly become Buck's best friend when he joined the 118 all those years ago. She was a firefighter-paramedic and she was great at her job. Y/N never doubted herself and Buck admired her tenacity, especially when people challenged her in the field.
Y/N and Buck hardly went a day without seeing each other. He felt like his day wasn't complete until he talked to her.
They were the kind of friends that could have a 4-hour long video call while doing chores around the house or spend all day just chatting about nothing in particular. They knew everything there was to know about each other and seemed to share a brain at times.
Buck had never felt seen until he met Y/N.
Y/N always brought him into conversations or found her way over to him when she could tell he was pulling back. Y/N knew about how hard Buck could be on himself, she could tell when he was overthinking and was able to pull him out of that mindset.
"You need to be kinder to yourself, Buck," Y/N had told him one night when he was alone in the locker room after a rough shift.
"I'll try," He had replied.
Buck thought about that interaction quite often, he was always beating himself up for things he had little control over and it needed to end.
It was a hard cycle to break, but he was trying, and he was trying because of her.
...
Buck watched Y/N talk animatedly to Hen and Karen about a book they had all been reading. They laughed loudly at something she said before Hen began sharing her own thoughts on the book.
Y/N looked over, locking eyes with Buck from across the yard and sending him a small wave with a smile. He waved back, watching her as she returned to her conversation.
Bobby took a seat at the patio table beside Buck, "So, when are you gonna ask her out?" He questioned.
Buck's eyebrows raised, "Oh, no, I was just-," He started, "Save the excuse, I can tell that you like her as more than a friend," Bobby said with a knowing smile.
Buck looked down at the table with a sigh, picking at the label on his beer bottle with his thumb nail, "She's way too good for me," Buck said.
"What makes you say that?" Bobby asked.
Buck shrugged, "She's amazing and I'm just me... I don't deserve her," He stated.
"Buck, you're a good guy but you need to know when to get out of your own way. Don't overthink it, just ask her out. I'm almost 100% sure she would say yes if you asked her out on a date," Bobby assured.
"Almost 100%?" Buck asked.
"99.9% sure," Bobby amended.
Buck looked over at her to find her making her way over to the cooler full of drinks. He stood up from his seat and made his way over to her.
"Hey," He greeted.
"Hey, I was wondering when you were gonna stop hiding away in the corner," Y/N teased.
"Can I ask you something?" Buck questioned, "Of course," Y/N replied.
"Um, you can totally tell me if I'm looking at this the wrong way, but is there something- I don't know... Is there something more than friendship between us?" He asked.
"Do you want there to be something more?" Y/N asked.
"I think I do," Buck answered hesitantly.
Relief washed over him when a smile broke out across her face, "I do too," She said.
"Oh my god, you have no idea how fast my heart is beating right now," Buck said, huffing out a soft laugh.
Y/N rested her hand on his chest, feeling his heart pound against her palm, "You really weren't kidding. Do you need to sit down?" She asked.
"No, I'm good. I just- Will you go out on a date with me?" He questioned, resting his hand over her's on his chest.
"Of course I'll go out with you, Buck," Y/N replied.
...
Y/N and Buck had been dating for almost a year, she had moved into his apartment and everything seemed amazing. Buck still felt like he was waiting for the day she found someone better and left him in the dust, but she chose him each and every day.
Buck had never felt like the center of attention, he always went above and beyond to be noticed, but it was effortless with Y/N. Buck felt like he was being seen after a lifetime of feeling invisible and it was the best feeling in the world. He couldn't think of a way to repay Y/N for bringing him to life again.
Until he did.
He sat at a table in the busy coffee shop, a mug of coffee sat on the table in front of him. Buck felt jittery and he had yet to take a single sip of the hot beverage, instead choosing to watch the door closely. Buck straightened up in his seat as Maddie made her way into the establishment. She walked through the tables before sitting down in the chair across from him.
"Where's Y/N? Is she not coming?" Maddie asked.
"Um, no, actually. I kinda needed some time to talk to you... Alone," Buck said hesitantly, grimacing at his own awkwardness.
Maddie gasped, "Are you going to propose to Y/N?" She asked.
Buck's face fell, "How did you know that? I didn't even say anything yet," He questioned.
"I just knew," Maddie grinned, "Aw, Buck, this is so exciting!" She said.
"Yeah, I've been thinking about it for a while now. I mean, with everything we've gone through this year, I don't want to spend anymore time not being together, y'know?" Buck questioned.
"I do," Maddie said.
"I think she's my person, Maddie," Buck admitted.
Maddie smiled, her eyes glossing over with happy tears, "She definitely is, Evan," She said.
"I was wondering if you had some time today to help me pick out a ring. I've looked around a little bit, but I'm kinda useless at this stuff," He said.
"Of course I'll help. Do you have any idea what kind of ring she may want?" Maddie asked.
"I think she likes the ones with the jewel that's shaped like an egg," Buck said slowly.
"This is going to be a very long and expensive day for you, little brother," Maddie sighed with a smile.
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russellsppttemplates · 8 months ago
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My person (Charles Leclerc)
Your brother's best friend is sure you were made for eachother
Note: english is not my first language. Most times I read a brother's best friend trope, it's usually the reader going after the boy, so I felt like doing things a little bit different (also, my brain got a bit jumbled because I was wondering about the perspective, and in the end I went with reader being Joris' twin). Also, I always feel a little bit of impostor's syndrome whenever I post these tropes for which I've read many great pieces about it, and I never know if my ones are good enough to be posted but we're going with it
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
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Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
Most people thought having a twin brother was bitter sweet because while you had to share everything since the womb, you had a brother so there came a time where you wanted to have different toys, different rooms and different styles.
Different friends, however, was never a question. Even with different interests, you and Joris often came as a duo, so both of your friend groups were pretty close.
"We're going to Charles' apartment to watch the football game, are you joining us?", Joris asked, throwing himself on your sofa and partially occupying your personal space, "Marta is going to be over and I think she's taking Chiara with her, too".
You don't remember a time where Charles wasn't in your life. Your brother knew him since they were in kindergarten and so there wasn't a memory where he wasn't involved. Which brought you to the last time you were with him, just a week before.
Charles spent the afternoon with Joris at your brother's apartment, wanting to relax and game for the rest of the day.
"It's Y/N", Charles said as he gave Joris his ringing phone, your caller ID prompting him to pick the calk up right away, "can you come and get me, please?", he heard you faintly as Joris got up straight away, listening to whatever you were telling as he put on his trainers and jacket.
"Y/N needs me to pick her up from the café - turns out her date thought she wouldn't mind going home on her own", Joris rolled his eyes, "it will be quick, you're good on your own here?", he checked with Charles, "sure", the driver assured, unpausing the game and carrying on.
Another date and another disappointment for you, Charles thought. While you weren't as close as his brother was to him, he still knew about your life as much as your other friends, and lately you had been looking for someone, your person, you claimed. Luck had yet to join your search as every date you went on seemed to go between bad and awful.
If he had the courage to come clean about his feelings, maybe things would be different. For a while, yes, you were Joris' twin sister and that was it. You were a cool girl and he didn't mind spending time with you or having your hang out with their group, but things changed when you went to university.
Maybe it was your glow up, although you never needed one to catch his eye in the first place, but year after year, you grew to exude confidence, your natural beauty enhanced as you turned into a charming, caring and kind young woman.
Since he didn't want to ruin the bond you had, he watched it all happen from the sidelines. How happy you sounded whenever you had a date later in the week, whenever a cute guy came up to you in the club and how you squealed "I think this one might be the one!" as you excused yourself and declined dinner invitations from the group for a date.
He heard the door open and then close, footsteps approaching the living room as he paused the game just in time for you to sit on the sofa, "what's up, Leclerc?", you nudged his shoulder.
"I'm good, how are you?", he quesioned, "I guess that one isn't the love of your life either?", he semi joked.
"He was certifiable, at the very least", you began as the boys chuckled, "Hey! I'm qualified to make such appreciation! He kept talking about himself and he was borderline sexist, but then he said I would be fine going home on my own? I don't know, it was a mess and I can't believe I even experienced that - I'm going to pretend it was a fever dream", you shrugged your shoulders, "I was expecting to spend the afternoon with him - thank Goodness I didn't, - and the construction work at my place is still going so I don't have anywhere to go, I'm sorry if I'm crashing your afternoon", you gulped.
"It's fine, it's nice having company other than us two playing and screaming at eachother", Charles smiled as Joris shrugged his shoulders, "you're already staying her until the building work is done", you brother offered.
"I wasn't asking you, silly; you're my twin, dealing with me it's something that comes with the job", you winked.
When it came to dinner time, the three of you decided to have take out, your brother calling the restaurant and scheduling a time for him to pick it up, "I'm going to shower", you said as you got up from the sofa, heading to the guest room you were staying in.
By the time you got out, your heard Joris shout that he was leaving while you put on some comfy clothes for the evening in. When you went to the balcony so your towels could air dry for a bit, you sat in the padded chair, looking out to the sunset.
He would come, you thought. It wasn't particularly a manifestation or a "throw it at the universe" kind of thing, but rather something to reassure yourself. You were worthy of the standards you set for yourself and there was someone out there for you, and he would come.
"Hey", Charles stepped into the balcony, coming to sit in the chair next to yours, "a cent for your thoughts?", he smiled softly, the warm yellow and orange light hitting his eyes in a glowy hue.
"Do you believe that the right person for you is out there?", you shot softly.
"I know she is", Charles gulped, "Oh, confident!", you giggled softly, "but it's nice, better than being sulky like me".
"I'm not sure how much better it is. I know she is out there, but it's a little more complicated than just going up to her and tell her that", he played with hia thumbs.
"So you're chickening out?", you quirked your eyebrow, partly teasing him but genuinely curious about it. You didn't have enough fingers to count how many girls tried to approach you and befriend you with the only goal of getting into a friendship circle that would lead them to Charles, and he could probably chat up anyone he wanted, so it was hard for you to understand how he didn't have the love of his life with him yet.
"It's not chickening out if you think it might cause some issues with your friends, I think. I'm being prudent, that's all", Charles tried, wanting to take the opportunity to try and see where you stood. Girls were usually sharper than guys, so you said many times, maybe you'd take the hint.
"If I knew who the love of my life was, I would go to him and never look back. I know it sounds silly, but I wouldn't want to be away from him a second longer, it would be quite shitty if he was in a relationship", you mused, "but if we were really meant to be together - if it was a both ways kind of thing - he would know it, right? Goodness, sound a bit like a romantic sop, don't I?", you chuckled, "but I would fight for him, for us".
Charles felt inspired before he felt a little angry. Here you here saying you would fight until you found your person when he was right there. If it really worked as a both ways thing, you'd have to know and feel the person you kept looking for was him. He broke into a full belly laugh as he stated at you. No make-up, hair sitting in its natural wave and comfy clothes, you never looked so beautiful to him.
"Would you let me fight for us, too?", he mused quietly but loud enough for you to hear, "would you want me to do that?".
Giggling at him, you could only shake your head at his words, "I know this sound silly - Joris teases me enough about it enough", you groaned as your hands covered your face.
"I'm not joking or teasing", Charles clarified, turning to face you on the chair, "All I want is for you to look at me the way you look at them", Charles stated, "whenever you talk about your dates before you go on them, you're so hopeful that that guy will be the one, you look forward to it like it will be that time, and you never looked at me that way when I constantly make efforts to hung the stars and the moon for you and stand there hoping they get to you".
His confession took you off guard. Charles just admitted he liked you, in a way with words that was more elaborate than what any of your dates had ever told you combined.
"I thought you were being nice?! Was this some sort of plan?!", you quesioned immediately. He had been around you your whole life, you surely would've noticed it, wouldn't you?
Charles chuckled in a way you found a smidge belittling, "it wasn't a plan! Y/N, I have not been planning this or doing some strategy, it just happened out of nowhere!", Charles bit back, "like you said, the person for me is out there and she's you!".
The noise from the door pulled both of you out your discussion, your brother's singalong voice announcing he was back with the food.
Dusting your sweatpants, you stepped back inside the living room, shaking off the jitters you had as your brother scrunched up his face, "is everything okay?", he asked.
"Of course, I'm just hungry and you drove like a grandpa here", you bickered back as Charles joined you at the table, "I'll get the cutlery and plates from the kitchen", you mumbled.
The dinner was eaten quietly on your side, Charles and Joris making most of the conversation as you exchanged a few looks with the Formula One driver, your twin brother seemingly obvious as he carried on as usual, "I'm going to bed", you said after helping tidy, "are you sure? We were going to watch something on TV?", Joris asked you.
"I'm getting a headache, so I'll pass, good night boys", you gave them tight lipped smile.
In the bedroom, you changed into your pyjamas and finished your night-time routine and got under the sheets, Charles' words replaying as you looked at the ceiling.
"Y/N? Are you joining us or not? Do you have any plans?", Joris insisted, "you've been weird lately", he pointed out.
"I'll join you, yes, just need to get my hoodie and then I'll be good to go", you scrambled out as your heart beat faster inside your chest.
Joris offered to drive to Charles' apartment, getting there when Riccardo, Marta and little Chiara were alresdy inside with Charles.
"The rest of the group couldn't come, so it's just us", Riccardo said as he noticed your expression, "what a shame, more food for us!", you smirked, sitting next to Marta and playing with the little girl on her lap, "hello, my love, hello!", you cooed in the voice you only had for babies, "look at you so grown up! You get more beautiful everytime I see you", you smiled, tickling her chin softly as she giggled loudly.
"Who did the roast potatoes last time we got together?", Joris stepped back into the living room, "I did", you stated as you grabbed one of the toys on the coffee table, ready to sit down on the floor so you and Chiara could play together.
"Don't sit down!", your brother yelled, "sorry, but you can't sit down - Charles needs help with the potatoes and he doesn't know the recipe like you do", he reasoned as you got up, trying not to show how much you didn't want to be in the same room alone with Charles. Watching football while having dinner with your group of friends was one thing, spending one on one time with Charles after what he said to you the last time was another.
"Hey", you said as you stepped into the kitchen, "Joris said you needed help, what can I do?".
Charles smiled a little, maybe at the irony of your quesion, "I don't know what seasonings to use in these", he said as he showed you the vegetable with the ones he already cut up.
"Okay, do you keep the spices in the same place?", you asked as he nodded, encouraging you to use his kitchen like it was your own.
Opening the cabinets and grabbing what you needed, you started mixing the ingredients and cutting up the ones you needed to, "can you get me the olive oil, please? I can't reach it", you asked and Charles complied, "thank you".
"Is this how this is going to be? Interacting like we haven't known eachother since we were little and like I haven't poured my heart out to you?", Charles said, arms crossed as he rested against the kitchen counter.
"I wasn't counting on you saying all of that, I was so caught off guard that I haven't been able to think about anything else in my off time!", you offered, setting the knife down on the chopping board.
"It's not like people have speeches ready and give of warnings when they're about to confess their feelings for someone... I myself wasn't expecting to do it until the words came out of my mouth", Charles gestured as if he was vomiting, "what do you expect it to be like anyway? People have to warn you they have feelings for you and ask if you want to hear it?! Is that what you want?".
"I want to feel loved, appreciated and valued. I want to be with someone that reminds me that I'm beautiful, that I'm smart and I'm wonderful. I want to share my life with someone who has no trouble with me wanting to have both career goals and family goals, I want someone who supports me as much as a support him, who is willing to do silly things because I enjoy them and who loves me for me, flaws and all", you let out in one go, "That's what I want".
Charles eyebrows climbed on his forehead, "Are you insinuating I can't give you that? Is that why we haven't spoken since that evening at Joris' place?".
"I'm saying you're my brother's best friend, and no matter how much I think you can do it - because you make me feel like that just from being my friend, imagine if we were dating -, I don't want to risk whatever we have, all of us", you gestured to the living room where the rest of the group was.
"Y/N", Charles pleaded, "you don't think I've thought about that? I didn't do it on a whim like you think I did, I've been sitting on this for quite a while, actually", he clarified, "I will respect whatever you decide, okay? But can't just sit and pretend that you don't want this thing between you and me as much as I do, because we could be so good-", he was interrupted as Marta crossed the corner and stepped inside the kitchen, "Charles, can I heat Chiara's soup on the microwave?", she asked with the small tupperware on her hands.
"Sure, here", he guided her as you resumed to seasoning the potatoes, putting them on the tray and then in the oven, "the game is about to start, hurry up!", Joris yelled.
"I'll just wash this, and that too", you took the tupperware's lid as well as the utensils you needed for the dressing.
"I need to cool it down a little, maybe in a bigger bowl", Marta said as Charles helped in getting the bowl from the cupboard as you set the utensils aside to dry, "Merci, Charles, off we go then", she said as she waited for you both to leave and go to the living room so she could follow you.
"Come here, sweet cheeks", you clapped at Chiara, taking her away from your brother's arms and putting her in the highchair so she could eat comfortably, "auntie Y/N is going to give you your delicious soup, yummy yummy", you smiled.
Charles couldn't help but take in the sight, how you made Chiara feel like she was the only person in the world as you smiled and spoke to her, finding a million and one ways to get her to eat the soup in the bowl.
The food was ready by the half-time break, so you all helped with bringing the food to the table, eating it as the team you were supporting ended up winning the game.
"She's knocked out", you pointed out to Riccardo, Chiara asleep in the little makeshift cot you made on the sofa with some pillows and blankets to make sure she was warm and secure.
"We can clean up, you guys go home and take this little princess to sleep in her own bed", Charles smiled, stroking the little girl's cheek softly as he watched her peaceful expression.
"You don't mind?", Marta wondered as the three of you nodded, helping the parents gather their daughter's belongings so they could leave, hoping she wouldn't wake up and make it harder for her to fall back asleep.
"Sweet dreams, petite fleur", you cooed as Marta cuddled Chiara into her chest, squeezing her small hand softly before they walked out of the door.
"These need to go on the dishwasher", you sorted through the plates and checked if they were safe to go on the machine as your brother help you.
"We should probably get going", Joris said, not wanting to overstay your welcome, "do you need anything else, Charles? Otherwise, me and Y/N will leave you to it", he said.
"Actually, me and Charles need to talk, if that's okay", you looked at the driver, catching him by surprise before he nodded in agreement.
Joris didn't dwell too much on it like you thought he would, "so you need me to come and pick you up or...?", he trailed before Charles saved you, "don't worry, I've got her", he stated.
When Charles accompanied your twin brother to the door, he was blunt and honest, "She's my sister, but there could be worse guys than you", Joris offered as Charles narrowed his eyes, "Oh, please, do you think I'm that blind? I've seen the way you look at her and how you always go above and beyond for her - she's just being too stubborn about it to see it, too. Still, if you ever break her heart or cause her any tears of sadness and anger, you're going to wish I didn't know so much about you", he threatened, although it didn't go as planned as they both laughed, "I trust you, there wasn't anyone I would trust like this", he sighed, "you're just lucky you have brothers, otherwise I might've taken revenge on you", he nudged his shoulder.
"I bet Lorenzo would enjoy a cuddle every now and again if you'd like", Charles giggled before he showed his seriousness again, "I just want this to work out between us, I think she's my person, you know?", he mused, realising how cliché and whipped he sounded, "I'll take care of her, you don't need to worry", he assured.
Charles closed the door and walked back to the living room where you sat down on the sofa, legs covered with one of the blankets, "I- thank you for staying back", he smiled, pointing with his eyes to the spot next to you silently asking if he could sit.
You opened the blanket so he could sit next to you and you could both keep warm, "I want to apoligise for not saying anything the last time we spoke, and for how I've handled this", you began, "I'm sorry, Charles", you said earnestly.
"Apology accepted", he nodded, "and did you just stay here to apoligise?", he quesioned.
"I- I thought we could have a date, sort of anyway", you mumbled, "and I could also tell you how I feel about you since it seems I owe you that with what you've told me", you looked into his eyes, "it wasn't that you were ever off bounds or anything like that, I never cared for those supposed rules, but it never occurred to me", you blurted and Charles quirked a brow, "shoot, that's not what I meant, ugh", you grunted as he soothingly rubbed your thigh, "what I meant is I always thought you'd never look at me that way - I'm Joris' twin - so I just took all of the affection I had for you and put it in a friendship feelings and all of the things you did for me, I thought you were just being nice because you're a nice guy", you clarified.
"Does this mean you're letting me treat you like you deserve? Because I plan on making sure you feel and know you're wonderful every single day", he smiled charmingly, confident words contrasting with his shy attempt of lacing your fingers together on his lap.
"How can you be so sure we are eachother's person?", you couldn't help but mumble, even if the butterflies in your stomach were dancing like they hadn't been in a long time, "I just know, and I'll help you see it, too", he smiled, kissing your knuckles before he pulled you to his chest, finding something to watch on the TV.
You both watched reruns of one of your favourite shows, pointing out little details you loved and talking about any topic that came to mind, and once Charles' body warmth and his touches along your arm caught up to your system and lulled you to sleep, your head finding it's spot on his chest as he smiled down at you, your beauty never ceasing to amaze him as he noticed every mole, freckle and scar on your face from up close.
Even if he didn't want to move, and that it wouldn't be the first time he slept on his sofa, he reasoned that he should at least offer you his bed. Softly stroking your cheek, he coaxed you to wake up, "I'm sorry for waking you up, but we can't sleep here", he whispered, kissing the side of your head, "you can sleep in my bed, I'll take the sofa", he offered as you stretched a little bit, removing yourself from his chest.
"If you promise you won't do any funny business, we can sleep in the same bed", you yawned.
"Of course I won't, Y/N! I would never do anything you didn't want to, I-", Charles panicked, not wanting you to think he was trying to take advantage of you.
"I'm only kidding, I know you won't", you assured, arms pulling him to stand up with you as you walked to the bedroom after turning everything off, "I trust you, Charles, completely", you smiled.
To him, it meant the world.
You felt his heart race when your hand landed on his chest, "I need a t-shirt, though, this is not comfy to sleep in", you reasoned as he looked for one on his drawers, "here, you can get ready here while I get ready in the bathroom", he smiled, kissing the top of your head before he stepped inside the ensuite.
After you swapped so you could brush your teeth, you were both undoing the bed, pulling the sheets back over you and having eachother.
"I really want to kiss you right now, but I don't want to cross any boundaries", Charles admitted as your heart raced in your chest, "I'd really like that, you can kiss me if you want", you consented.
Charles leaned to rub your nose in his before kissing your lips softly, allowing you both to revel in the feelings that had been put in labelled boxes at the back of your minds.
Parting your lips to breathe, you cupped Charles' cheek, your palm tickling from his facial hair as your thumb rubbed his skin, "I think you might be right", you mumbled, licking your lips, "about what?", he mused, "about the fact that you'll help me see it too", you smiled.
The next morning, you woke up with Charles looking at you, "Good morning, Y/N", he greeted, "See? I didn't pull any funny business", he wiggled his brows chuckling.
This was a sight you could get used to.
"Good morning", you smiled, "did you sleep well?", you wondered, pulling closer to him now that you were awake.
"I did, did you?", he asked and you nodded, cuddling closer to him and basking in the feeling of just being there.
"We are going to take this as slow as you want", Charles whispered against your forehead, leaving little kisses and pecks on your skin, "but I want you to know I'm all in".
"I'm all in, too", you whispered, "I can't promise you it will be a straight line - or that I won't spiral out every now and again because hey, it's me -, but I feel really good about this, you make me feel really good", you blushed as you kissed between his eyebrows, "having said this, not all of us have the day to do some training and sim racing, and I'm one of them. I have to go home to change and then head to the clinic", you pouted slightly.
"How about I make us some breakfast first, then I'll drop you off?", he suggested, stealing a peck from your lips, "hmm, sounds good", you hummed.
.
"Were you expecting us to be surprised?", Marta said as she and her family arrived in Charles' yacht, the three of them seeing you and Charles kissing at the table.
Throwing your head back in laughter as Charles walked up to help them inside, you shielded your eyes from the sun with your hand, "at least pretend you are", you joked.
"Oh my Goodness, I never thought you two would become a thing? Does this mean we can finally stop hearing your disgraced love life stories and Charles' complaints about who you went on a date with?", Riccardo belted out, catching the attention from a couple on the yacht next to the one you were sitting on.
"To be fair, that's how I noticed it", Marta began, "Charles didn't complain anymore about how he was alone and that the universe wasn't working on his favour", she smirked, greeting you two.
"We have been keeping it down low just to see how things would go", you blushed at getting caught and steering the conversation elsewhere once Chiara babbled at you, "Oh, baby girl, hello!", you cooed, pulling her into your arms.
"Soon enough you can get one of those, I bet your kid would be very very cute", Riccardo nudged Charles' shoulder, loving that the group now could have a few teasing moments and themes at your expense, all in good fun.
"What a warm welcome!", you heard your brother yell, a fake angry and ironic tone noticeable in his voice, "First, no one is here to greet me with a glass of something to drink or even a helping hand to step in", Joris clarified, "then I'm presented with a conversation about my sister's and my best friends sex life, which I don't want to know about by the way!!", he said as he came up to you, kissing the side of your head, "I'm happy she's happy, and that you're all happy together, but no talking about that, please!".
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baddiewiththebook · 1 year ago
Text
STUFFING AND SAUCE [18+]
-> It's Thanksgiving, and the gang is all together under one roof: the Henderson house. While Mrs. Henderson and Wayne battle the turkey in the kitchen, Eddie fights his own urges with the older Henderson sibling. You're home for the holidays, and Eddie's hungry. . . but, not for turkey.
-> eddie munson x you (she/her)
-> hookup to lovers, angst, smut
-> warning - explicit content [18+]
a/n -> This is reuploaded and heavily edited from last year.
-> <-
"You keep looking in that mirror and I'll break it," Dustin warns.
Robin's hair stands on end. "You can't be serious? That bad luck is transferable, you know?"
Dustin rolls his eyes at her superstition because honestly they've all come to an agreement to help set the table for Thanksgiving dinner party that his mother has offered to host this year. And, with Eddie's lack of partaking because he's too busy blotting down his hair in the mirror, Dustin doesn't understand why Eddie's come to his house in the first place.
The older boy fidgets with the end of his shirt, and not long after Robin comes to his ear to tell him that you'll love how he looks tonight. That's right, you're coming. He's totally forgotten that Dustin's sister is in town for Thanksgiving. Eddie's hair dangles over his cheeks, so that hopefully no one sees him blush.
"When does your sister get here?" Max throws herself onto the couch next to Steve, whom scoots a seat over from her. Lately, he realizes, she's been a bit too clingy to him.
"She's late," Dustin checks the clock that hangs high above on the wall ticking the time away. "She should have been here an hour ago- Eddie!"
Eddie abandons his task once again to dash over to the front window facing the street. Frost makes the drying grass and the limp trees appear shiny like glass. Foggy car headlights grow larger as they near. Seeing your Honda pull up the short drive brings back memories from the summertime.
Last summer was a record high in heat, which left you with barely any clothes to wear that didn’t leave your skin sticky and hot. Especially when Eddie was bent over the hood of your car and knuckles deep in your engine. Greased up hands and all, he wiped the sweat from his brow to tell you that your car was fixed. When you offered him cash as payment, he declined to the manor of being friendly not as the professional Eddie Munson - mechanic. You chewed on your bottom lip while batting your lashes in his direction.
Eddie’s unsure how you can make him melt, while simply being you. But, eventually, you worked out a payment that both of you were happy with. And, you continued that payment damn near every week. In his office. In his garage. In his van. In his kitchen. In his shower. In his bed.
No space in his shop or in his apartment are left sacred to either of you. And, when the summer was done, you were off to college. No calls or texts from either of you.
“She’s here!” Max spins in the front hallway. You are her idol. She swears you are the coolest person she’s ever met (aside from El).
Dustin shoves Eddie out of the way to observe for himself that in fact his sister has come home for the holidays. Not long after, their shared mom runs out of the house with her apron around her neck like a cape in her sprint.
“Hi, baby!” Your mom peppers your face with her kisses.
You whine. “Mom!”
“Okay, okay!” She pinches your cheeks until they’re glowing, but she does let you go.
Following her is your little brother, Dustin, who grabs you around the waist and he pulls you in tight. He’s gotten much taller since the last time you’ve seen him, but that can’t be right. You’ve only been gone for a few months!
“Hi, Dusty!” You ruffle his hair.
He grins. “What did you bring me?”
“I barely have enough money for books!” You snort.
Dustin drops his grip and then he fans you away. The little sucker grumbles, and avoids helping you with your suitcase despite your mom’s request. But, Steve and Robin dogpile you with warm greetings and Steve offers to help with your bag.
“I need all the dirt on college,” Robin whispers. “Are there really stains on all the sheets?”
What she means to ask is much raunchier. But, your mother is still picking at your clothes because you haven’t ironed this shirt. She’s got this look upon her face like you’ve been away at sea for years and years, and not like you’ve spent two months away at college.
Steve lugs your suitcase inside with you in tow. The rest of your brother’s little friends have also crowded around to get a piece of you. You’re like a celebrity in your own home. Even Wayne’s got his arm around you, whom you didn’t expect to see (but, you’re not complaining - you love Wayne).
Wayne’s got himself stuck in the kitchen with your mom to help her with the turkey. You’re the top subject right now, but soon he dashes off to make sure the bird isn’t drying out in the oven. Conversation begins to swirl like normal, and you’re on the lookout for the one person you might have missed a little more than you should.
You sit on the living room couch between Nancy and Steve with Robin at your feet, and the kids are running about the home hiding a can of whipped cream from your mom and Wayne (who are the only adults capable of reprimanding them of course).
“Do you have any plans while you’re in town?” Nancy asks.
You hope she doesn’t see your neck crane over her curly head. “None, but I’m here for the weekend and Monday since I don’t have classes.”
“What’s your schedule like?”
Nancy overloads everything she can while you’re around. No offense to the other people in your friend group, but they didn’t invite intellectual conversations like you and she did. She’s got too many questions for you, while you’re overthinking that the mid-length skirt you wore is too much.
“Have either of you seen Eddie?” Wayne poses the eye opening question that has the whole gang bobbing their head back and forth like meerkats.
“I saw his van outside, right? I’ll check there,” you stand away from your spot on the sofa.
Robin wants to make a sly comment about your willingness to brave the cold for this shaggy man, who seems to have taken a full shower, shave and added cologne to his washed outfit for the evening. She bites her tongue.
“Bathroom?” Nancy suggests that she go upstairs, and Robin will check this floor.
Steve hauls himself from the couch. “I’ll check outside.”
Steve secretly wishes that Eddie be there smoking a joint that he could bum off of. Holidays aren’t Steve’s favorite because his family isn’t around either. He’s here because he can’t say ‘no’ to Mrs. Henderson.
To no knowledge of Eddie, however, is anyone looking out for him. He’s snuck out to his van while everyone else stays distracted by your arrival. Watching your chest bounce while you laugh, or your skirt flutter while you twirl - you’re a God damn tease and you know what you’re doing.
Knock, knock.
You wrap your knuckles against the glass of his van’s driver’s side window. This must be Eddie’s lucky day, and you’re thinking the same by the way you twist in front of him.
“What’s up?” Eddie nods.
You pout. “Well, you didn’t even say ‘hi’ to me and you’re already bailing?”
“I’m not bailing,” he assures. “Besides, do you think that the way we greet each other is appropriate to do in public?”
A part of you is quite offended that he hasn’t addressed the elephant in the room. Not only did he neglect to call you in the past few months, nor did he greet you at the door like the rest of your friends had done earlier. But, the other part of you is winning over this tug of war. You haven’t had sex in months, and shining your own shield only goes so far.
During the summer, you got what you wanted. You and Eddie screwed like rabbits. When you left, a nagging itch was left that couldn’t be scratched. Admittedly, you got cozy in his apartment. Your sleepovers became ‘Good Morning’ with a side of eggs and toast. Soon began you washing the dishes after, and Eddie asking about what you’re studying for school.
After a while, his apartment became a second home and you no longer had to ask where the bathroom was. You pretended that this little game was to keep Dustin’s watchful eye out of sight, but sipping your morning brew without asking Eddie to add anymore cream or sugar became a bit more than you bargained for.
You’re leaning forward now to press a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. But, before you have a chance to pull away, Eddie slots his lips to yours like he’s made his way home.
“You want to take advantage that there’s no one parked behind me? Like old times?” Eddie pinches your chin with his index finger and his thumb.
It just so happens that the Beyers family is running a tad behind schedule. Will couldn’t find his Christmas sweater, and Johnathan had to second his shower because according to his mom, he still stunk like a skunk had run through their house. But, as they finally do pull up to the lively home with Christmas lights twinkling on the roof, Joyce Byers spots the eldest Henderson twisted in close conversation with the Munson boy.
Joyce parks their car halfway onto the sidewalk because Johnathan is jolting out of the car murmuring something about the food smelling so good. This leaves Will to juggle the grocery bags full of potatoes and Mac and Cheese into the house. But, Joyce stops to interrupt the conversation you’re having.
“Hi, Miss. Byers,” you pull away from the conversation to greet her warmly.
“Joyce, honey! Joyce!” She corrects. “I didn’t mean to- oh, I’m sorry. Hello, Eddie!”
Eddie waves his hand in her direction. That’s not to be rude, but he would rather not have Joyce see him in a pair of tight denim with his dick as hard as it is right now.
“We��re just going out for a last minute grocery run,” your lie leaves a sour note on your tongue.
Joyce knows very well that the last grocery store to stay open on Thanksgiving has closed about thirty minutes ago. But, she doesn’t tell them that she knows this. She quite fondly looks back to her own memories of when she snuck out of her family ‘s Christmas party with her boyfriend at the time.
“Be safe,” Joyce winks, then turns on her heel to go inside.
You’re quick to hop into the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. An old bitter cigarettes scent stains the interior of the vehicle like a thick layer of butter on toast. You buckle up, then kick your feet out in what little room he has under the dash. Eddie’s abused the passenger side of his van for fast food wrappers and travel mugs he hasn’t taken inside for however long.
Aside from a tire whining, Eddie cuts the headlights to sneak out of the drive without anyone noticing from inside.
Eddie places one of his hands across your thigh, “Grocery shopping?”
"What was I supposed to say?" You shake your head
You’re biting at the edge of something wonderful here. Looking on to your left, Eddie’s got his lip tugged between his teeth. His eye on the road. His mind in the gutter. The hand he’s got squeezing against the fat of your inner thigh dances dangerously across your skin. Your spine arches straight back. Eyes shut blissfully as you let a whine escape you.
Then, he dares flick your awaiting clit while driving solo with one hand on the wheel and an eye on the road. Not to be crude, but he’s been here before with you. Tight on time. Sneaking about like high schoolers still. You’re on his mind most of the time these days because he wants to know if what you did with him all summer is what you would do in college with other people. He’s subjected himself to exhausting torturous hours at work just so he doesn’t have to think about you in your back getting railed by a random dude.
Somehow he’s got you here now, and your putty under his fingers. Your eyelashes flutter. Brows furrow. Your chest rises and falls at the lightest touches from him.
Clenching your legs against his large grip he's got on you, Eddie pulls off to the side of the road. He’s waited far too long to revisit this little charade. Pulling in behind a few trees, he doesn’t have to ask because you’re already climbing into the back.
You land on a set of blankets he hasn’t taken out since you left.
Eddie crawls into the back after you. Kisses like he never left. Nostalgia makes your heart skip inside of your chest. He keeps you there under his touch, and squeezing at your sides as you sink deeper into his embrace.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” Eddie breathes onto your neck, before attaching himself there and nibbling into your flesh.
Your whines acknowledge that he’s got just the right spot - like he could have forgotten. The embrace is so familiar that your chest burns for him.
“More,” you beg into his hair, while gripping your hands into fists of the fabric on his back.
If there was more time, Eddie would have stayed there all night just to hear your heart beat against his eardrum. Yet, he’s undoing his belt, the button on his jeans and pulling the zipper down to match you flipping up that sinful little skirt you wore just to tease him. Wetting his fingers, he then hooks his pinky in your underwear to move them to the side. Rubbing your clit, Eddie hears your moans bounce from each side of the van. You’re on full display. Deliciously beautiful and all for him.
You’re both aware of this, so there’s no need to say anything.
“Eddie,” except you do. “Please. I need you!”
“I’ll never stop needing you,” he finds your lips again, as he pushes himself deep inside of you.
Groaning together, your core aches a familiar feeling. Tightening your grip against him like you’re scared he’ll run away. He’s got his eye not on your eye, but on your soul. Reaching far beneath the depths that anyone could ever fall into, and at its core is you. Your being is the only part he’ll ever need - the only thing he longs for. And so, as he’s fucking you at a punishing rate, he holds on tight for he’s afraid to let go.
You break the eye contact when you toss your head back. Stars form in your vision, as you topple over the edge of bliss. Following soon, you hear Eddie groan one last time and he’s spilling inside of you.
“Shit,” he rolls onto the blankets trying to catch his breath.
You’re doing the same, and with one long exhale, you swing yourself over so that you’re laying across his body. Eddie drowsily opens his eye to see the most beautiful creature he’s laid his eye on. Lipstick smeared. Mascara smudged. Your heart sounds as though it’s going to burst from your chest.
“Hi,” you say breathlessly.
Eddie chuckles. “Hey, beautiful.”
Beautiful. That’s an unspoken word between you two. Usually, after sex, the two of you either dress in silence or roll over and go to sleep. You miss the feeling of being wanted, and you’ve got your fingers crossed that he’s not just playing his cards.
Eddie’s hand finds the small of your back to bring you closer.
“What are you thinking about?” He touches your forehead with his index finger.
You nibble at the inside of your cheek, before bravely making the leap to ask. “Did you mean it?”
“What?”
“That you’ll never stop needing me,” you swallow thickly.
Eddie’s fingers make patterns along your bare back. Eyes locked onto yours, he studies your face through the shadows of the arriving evening. All this time you’ve been away, you’ve been on his mind. If he knew what dorm you live in, he’d be there in a heart beat to keep you warm during these cooler months.
“I’ll never,” he folds your fingers in with his just so he can bring your hand to his mouth, and so he can kiss every knuckle on your hand, “stop needing you.”
“Oh, Eddie,” you lean in for a kiss.
Someone bashes a fist against the back door to the van, and you know your screwed. Red and blue lights flicker and flash outside the window.
"Shit!" You scramble to pat down your hair, and your skirt.
Eddie tucks himself into his pants, while muttering curses to himself.
“Police!” Jim Hopper’s voice is easily recognizable. “Come on, Munson. Don’t make me come in there.”
With a few run-ins with the law, and making a reputation as the “freak” of Hawkins High School, Eddie’s van became a staple around town. Even the police knew just about where ever he is at any time.
Tumbling over each other, you’re sure the guilt is written all over your faces. Nearly blinded by a flashlight to the face, you shield your eye away from Jim Hopper, who squints at you two. Clearly caught in the act of a wild youthful fantasy, Jim clicks off his flashlight and speaks to you both;
“I was on my way to your mom’s house,” he makes a point to stare you down, before continuing, “when I was radioed that there’s a suspicious van lingering off the side of the road. Care to explain?”
Not like there is much explaining to do. The story is pretty black and white, but that doesn’t discourage Eddie to come up with an aching bumble of lies.
“We were just on our way to the grocery store when we ran out of gas,” he began with your earlier plot. “We ran out of cranberry sauce.”
“Right,” Jim grunts. “I better give you a ride back.”
Walking back into the house to explain why you and Eddie disappeared has been mute to your ears. All of the funny faces from the younger kids, or the suspected glances from the older friends. God, you’d never hear the end of this from Robin. She’s been on your behind about fixing you up with Eddie for a while.
“You okay?” Eddie nudges you.
Jim says with his back turned, “Come on, kids. No use standing around a dead car. I’ll see what I can do about getting you back here with a gas can in the morning.”
“I’m fine,” you're embarrassed, but you're warm knowing where you stand with Eddie.
You’re crammed in the back of Jim’s Chevrolet with Eddie. Also stuffed between you two, is a sizable Tupperware full of mashed potatoes. El twists around in the front seat to let you know that she made them this year.
Bumps in the road weigh heavy against the beating inside your chest. You’re not speaking a language that Eddie totally understands, but he knows where your head is at. He touches your pinky with his sending a few jolts straight to your heart and your stomach flips. You continue to manage the Tupperware from tipping all over the seats.
The Sheriff spins the wheel to turn down your street. That empty spot Eddie left has Jim’s name written all over it.
Somehow the home has become busier than when you left earlier. Sounds of laughter bubble through the chill of the evening. The blinds are drawn, so you can see the Christmas tree in the living room lined with a calamity of decorations that have been collected over the years. Tinsel shines against the living room lamps draped across doorways, and the window frame. Your mom insists on putting the decorations up the day after Halloween.
You can almost hear Wayne’s boyish laughter that he’s never quite grown out of, while he tortures the young kids. He’s cornered Lucas and Max with a fake bushel of mistletoe in his hand. Max squirms when Lucas kisses her on the cheek, but later blushes while no one is looking.
The car tilts as the group climbs out and down onto the driveway. You’ll never understand the love for a lifted truck like this.
Despite wanting to be useful, El takes the mashed potatoes from you.
“I’ll be taking that!” She announces proudly.
With El and Jim both taking the lead, Eddie sneaks in to tug at your hand.
The front door swings open.
“Jim Hopper,” Wayne announces. “And- erm, Eddie?”
You poke your head around Jim’s back, and Wayne’s mouth draws agape.
“Their grocery store run ended on a flat tire, so I brought them back here,” Jim says.
“Thank you for rescuing them,” he replies. “Well, come in. Dinner is just about ready.”
Jim, El and yourself enter the home without too much inquiry from Wayne. But, you hear a thunk and Eddie’s protest, so you can imagine Wayne just knocked some sense into the back of Eddie’s head.
“You must be cold, darling,” Wayne snaps his finger. “I’ll bring you some hot chocolate. Go on and sit by the fire in the living room. Your friends have been waiting for you.”
Pinching Eddie on the ear, Wayne drags him away to the kitchen where you just know he’s getting scolded.
You bite the bullet, and find your friends in the living room surrounding the fireplace. Steve’s fought for and gotten the prime spot, so that his back is to the flame and he’s heating up in the knitted sweater that Nancy made for him.
Johnathan is still unhappy about the exchange by the way, even if she knitted him a pair of socks later. You can’t imagine a world where Johnathan and Steve might get along anyway. Nancy has false hopes.
“There you are!” Nancy worries like a mom who’s lost sight of her kids for more than five minutes. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
“Really?” You plop down next to Robin on the couch, who’s got this grin that you beg won’t start talking.
“Won’t you enlighten us?” Robin bats her lashes.
Steve clears his throat. “Don’t think she’ll have too.”
“Warm up with this,” Eddie’s come from the kitchen with hot chocolate in hand. He hands it to you, and kisses the top of your head.
“Shut up!” Robin yells. “Really?”
“Really what?” Dustin pokes his head from around the corner before Eddie can snake his hands away from you. “Oh, damn.”
-> <-
tags: @ali-r3n
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talesofadragon · 1 year ago
Text
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞
Summary: Theodore Nott came to learn that an inciting incident can alter the course of history. Lucius Malfoy’s fall led to Draco’s dark mark and the death of Dumbledore. The rise of the Dark Lord urged Harry Potter into hiding and Death Eaters into prominence. And then there was Amycus Carrow, with his tainted hands on Y/N, who forced Theodore Nott to do the unforgivable.
Warnings: Sexual assault, attempted rape, graphic description of violence, panic attacks
Pairing: Theodore Nott x Non-Slytherin!Reader
Genre: Angst | Hurt/Comfort
Word count: 5.8K
All Masterlists | Theodore Nott Masterlist
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𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐥𝐬. The lines between the two flow steadily, each following its own cadence. And yet, despite their distinct course and the light years between them, they somehow find a way to draw parameters of joint space. Somehow, someway, they eventually overlap—meeting each other at the apex of catalysts and the twists between junctures to shape history and write the present.
Today starts like most stories do: quaint and subtle, setting the tone for an inciting incident that will tip this fable on its axis.
It’s a typical day, or as typical as it could get during Y/N’s last year at Hogwarts. She’s sitting at the far end of her Defense Against the Dark Arts class, donning the same apprehensive expression as all her classmates. The turmoil that governs the halls is a jarring contrast to the flourishing and effervescent school of witchcraft and wizardry Hogwarts once was.
In this mangled reality, there are specks of the idyllic tales she’s heard about, and witnessed, growing up. Slytherins and Gryffindors sustain their infamous rivalry while in search of their individual purpose, purebloods hold themselves on par with Merlin himself, and more often than not, students find refuge in a forgotten nuke in Hogwarts when the burden of magic becomes too heavy to bear.
In the first drafts of the story, Hogwarts held its students under one embrace. But now, as we’re nearing a hazy end, an isolating veil drapes over the school, fracturing it into fewer than four houses and dividing it more than ever before.
“Now, as Barty Crouch Junior has so tirelessly shared, you have already been acquainted with Merlin’s three most formidable spells,” Alecto Carrow, one of Voldemort’s trusted Death Eaters explains. Her heels dig into the marble floors of the classroom, their screeches ricocheting across the walls in warning. 
“The Unforgivables,” her brother Amycus eagerly finishes. His yellow teeth wither under the dim light of the darkened sun as his arms open wide. It’s unsettling how he and his sister welcome such misfortune so openly.
As it happens every single time the Carrow twins revel in the darkest boulevards of magic, Y/N shifts in her seat until she’s nearly imperceptible. Each time, her eyes rove the expanse of the classroom, seeking out the comfort of peculiar hazel eyes. Within just ten seconds, her wandering gaze comes to rest on the idle brown walls, a weight of defeat settling upon her.
Upon her reluctant return to Hogwarts this year, Y/N was met with a torrent of unimaginable changes, starting with students being separated not only based on their house but also their blood status.
Purebloods became a procession of peacocks—majestic, refined, otherworldly. Only allowed to flick around with students of the same upper class. 
Half-bloods, on the other hand, belong to inconsistent ideologies. They teeter on the precipice of honor, waiting for Death Eaters like Umbridge and whoever else is in the Ministry to decide their fate. 
Muggleborns, it's best not to get started.
Y/N doodles a few meaningless shapes, swirling her quill around the parchment as she thinks of Theodore. Lately, it's become increasingly difficult to talk to him, let alone spot him, with all the changes in place.
Her classmates know she’s not paying attention and that she's only pretending she has her nose buried deep in her notes. Her quill, which scratches against the parchment, is nothing but a ruse to get the Carrows off her scent. 
This class truly has nothing to offer except for a modicum of nostalgia and a barrage of abuse, so if the Carrows are so gullible to believe that Y/N is actively listening, then so be it. 
By now, she takes it a step further, looking up to meet the eyes of the young children brought forth by the Carrows. She’s mastered the art of stoicism to a T, gazing at their expressions without showing a measly emotion. But every single time, she finds herself transported eons back to a time when things were drastically better.
Her memories vary, depending on whatever catalyst she encounters. She recalls seeing a girl with ginger waves once, and her mind acted on autopilot, bringing her back to the times she and her friends would huddle in their common room to animatedly talk about the latest Weasley prank. 
At the previous hints of pink, she remembered Umbridge when she was finally escorted outside of Hogwarts grounds. 
And today, her memories are not too different. Bittersweet at best and wistful at most. 
She finds a boy biting down on his lower lip. He’s a Gryffindor, judging by the color of his tie, more so by his audaciousness when he decides to lift his head and contain his fear. His eyes are hazel, edging closer to honey brown underneath the dim light of the classroom. And her mind is cruel enough to conjure the image of Theodore hovering above her naked body with lustful hazel eyes and abused fiery lips. 
Theodore doesn’t particularly fancy his eye color—he doesn’t quite fancy much about himself. He’s not oblivious to his popularity, but unlike Draco Malfoy, who shines like the stars, Theodore Nott glows like the moon in a dance of subtlety and intensity; a paradoxical luminosity that always leaves Y/N in awe. 
He never particularly bothered her during their first couple of years at Hogwarts, which explains why they never interacted until their fifth year. Back when Umbridge was foul toward the student population, especially vile toward anyone of lesser blood. 
Dennis Creevey, who had been a first-year at that time, fell victim to her malice. His penance for being born to muggle parents was bloodily etched on his hand. Y/N tried to help him, even though her own hand was hurting just as badly. The healing spells didn’t counter the dark magic infused in the quills, and while she could handle the pain, the poor eleven-year-old couldn’t. 
"May I?" a voice softly breathed from behind her, causing her to jump slightly. She turned to see the unexpected sight of Theodore Nott, dressed in an emerald green tie and an aura of pristine silver. Y/N's breath caught in her throat, and her hands trembled, a reaction heightened by the delicate hints of cinnamon swirling in the air.
When Theodore pulled out his wand, Dennis cowered. And to her surprise, Theodore’s face fell. Yet he quickly covered his crestfallen expression with a mask of pure stoicism.
Y/N’s gaze meandered away from the Slytherin and settled on the young Gryffindor. “It’s okay, Dennis,” she recalled herself saying at the time, even though she hadn’t mentally given her words the green light to tumble out of her mouth. Both Dennis and Theodore seemed equally surprised, turning their heads her way. “He’s not going to hurt you.” 
Maybe it was the softness of Theodore’s hazel eyes, or maybe it was how he abstained from touching the boy's bruised hand and elected to kneel to his level. To this day, Y/N doesn’t know what exactly made her fall for Theodore at that exact moment in time. 
Yet, all she knows in certainty is that she’s in love with Theodore Aurelius Nott. Pureblood, Slytherin Elite, Son of Darkness. But what can she do if one glance at his hazel orbs leaves her drowning in the depths of his moonshine?
“Miss Y/L/N!” 
Y/N’s head jerks when a protruding voice disturbs her reverie. She chances a glance at the front of the classroom, finding Alecto Carrow’s lidded eyes on her. Bright and sage, a stark contrast to the malevolence nestled within them.
“Yes?” Y/N wonders aloud.
“Given your diligence in recording the theoretical aspect of The Unforgivables, I believe it’s time for you to engage in the practicalities of said lesson,” Alecto announces with a tone that leaves no room for negotiation or refutation. 
With a sharp nod, she ushers Y/N out of her seat, beckoning her over until she's two steps away from her. Y/N stands idly, unaware of whether she's going to role-play as the tormentor or the tormented. But her internal questions are answered the moment Amycus Carrow shoves the Gryffindor boy with hazel eyes into her line of sight.
"Go on." Alecto wears a sinister expression as she levels Y/N with a taunting smile. "Demonstrate your aptitude to the class.”
Y/N doesn't step back nor does she shy away. She clings to the apathetic front she's adopted from her boyfriend, her gaze falling on the young boy, and her thoughts drowning out Alecto's sharp voice. By the time Amycus asks her to draw out her wand, she's mustered up enough confidence to answer with a terse "no."
“What do you mean no, you insolent brat!” Alecto bellows, being the first to succumb to her temper. For a snake, she is known to be as hot-headed as a lion. 
“I refuse to perform any curse on anyone,” Y/N clarifies, purposefully refraining from calling her “professor.” And if she had half a brain cell, perhaps she would’ve figured it out. 
“Is that so?” Alecto challenges. 
“Yes.” 
“Very well, despicable half-breed. You know the rules. You’re either the rodent or the snake. Guess you’ll always be the former.” 
She's calm and aloof on the outside, but Y/N is dreading what’s coming next. She’s never fallen victim to the Cruciatus, though she has heard all about it from Theodore and his friends—even once from Harry. 
She watches with steady eyelashes as Alecto draws her wand and points it at her. Although the curse is released, and screams reverberate across the walls, both Alecto and Y/N remain silent.
To Y/N's horror, the young Gryffindor boy thrashes on the ground with clenched fists and agonizing wails. Above him, Amycus stands like a conductor, his wand beckoning the crooked notes of the boy's voice to rise to a crescendo.
Finally, the screams die down, extinguishing and feeding the anguish of every student at once. Amycus turns to address the class, dismissing them all except for one. “You go ahead, Alecto,” he directs toward his sister. “If the little mouse wishes to squeak, then she’ll have to suffer graver consequences than what you have to offer.” 
Whatever Amycus has in mind seems to appease Alecto. Her expression is mirthful as she grabs the robes of the young Gryffindor boy and sweeps him out of the class, using his body as a cleaning broom. 
The students all file out, their glances lingering on Y/N. As the last of the students leaves, Amycus turns to the young girl. 
“Your wand, Miss Y/L/N,” he demands. Y/N debates not giving it to him, but she knows if she doesn’t, he’ll come and collect it himself. So, she reluctantly hands it over. “Ah, pretty little thing. What’s the core?”
“Dragon heartstring.” 
“Fitting for a spitfire like you.” 
“I thought I was a meek little mouse,” Y/N counters, making Amycus grin. 
“You are a lot of things, little girl,” he replies as he twirls her wand in his hand. “The wood?” 
“Larch.” 
“Enlighten me, Y/L/N,” Amycus voices out. If Y/N’s a mouse, then he seems to enjoy being a cat. His long and calloused fingers trace her wand while he circles her, trying to break her resolve. “What does the wood say about you?”
The question strokes her ear, carried by Amycus’ ghastly voice. Y/N stills, not seeing where he’s going. She jolts as Amycus taps the wand against her thigh, particularly the exposed skin between her skirt and stockings. 
“It’s best paired with wizards and witches who possess hidden talents,” she replies tersely. 
The hum coming from her side indicates that Amycus is listening—paying attention, though, not so much, considering he’s rather preoccupied with poking her skin with her wand while rotating around her. 
He’s playing with his food, Y/N tells herself, knowing this is just another trick of his. Somewhere in his sadist brain, his senses are sparking with delight at the prospect of Y/N’s discomfort, relishing the power he has over her.
A part of her wants to jam her wand in his eyes, pluck his eyeballs out, and proceed to stuff each in his nostrils. But another part of her stands idle, not even blinking as he keeps up his ministrations. 
Amycus smiles, taking up more of her personal space. Y/N’s senses are lit on fire as he traces her wand across her body. “Is your mouth a part of those talents, filthy witch? You don’t talk much, but rotten girls like you must know how to use their mouths.”
“To scream, I presume,” Y/N breathes. Her quip hits Amycus right in the face, and the maniac grins. His face is painted with a nefarious glee, that of a predator eager to feast on its prey. 
SA and Attempted Rape Content Begins Here. Skip Through This Scene by Scrolling to "Scene End."
The unsettling sensation against her ribs dissipates when Amycus pulls the wand away, but the apprehension still lingers. As she mentally prepares herself for the inevitable pain that comes along with the Cruciatus, Amycus’ hand cups her chin, and his molten lips crash against hers. The sensation is so crippling and unfavorable it sends her tumbling back into the table.
The pressure on YN’s cheeks intensifies until it becomes sharp and metallic. Fingers dig into her flesh, paving a path for Amycus’ tongue to follow. Though her hands slap against his chest, legs flailing around, he continues his exploration in the depths of her throat. 
It feels like he’s finally thrown her off a cliff, yet with all the energy Y/N can muster, she pushes his body away and slaps him across the face. 
He looks at her with unadulterated rage. Y/N forgoes reading his face in favor of bolting toward the door. But before she reaches the handle, she’s yanked back by her robes. The fabric tears, as does her heart. Amycus then throws her on top of the teacher’s desk and catches both her wrists in his hand. 
“Pitty your blood is impure, little witch. If you had to match your filthy mouth with something, I’d rather it be your pussy than your blood.” 
“Get off me,” Y/N enunciates with a quiver in her voice. It seems to feed Amycus’ wicked desires because she suddenly finds him nipping at her neck in pure delight. 
“You’ve disobeyed my direct order. When witches are bad, they’re punished.”
“You’re sick!” 
“And you’re delicious.” 
Y/N takes a deep breath, burying his face further in the junction between her neck and shoulder. His kisses are filthy, heavy, frigid. They make her body feel like ice—they make her feel as if she's been snatched and thrown into the depths of the Dark Lake. 
Amycus' hands grab her waist and flip her over until her gaze meets the darkness of the desk’s wood. If the sensation of the wand against her thigh left acid in her mouth, then Amycus’ fingers left her with bile overwhelming her senses.
“What a pretty little ass you’re hiding under here. It was made to be ruined.”
Y/N doesn’t have time to panic. In fluid movements, Amycus lifts her skirt, rips off the shorts she typically wears beneath, and spanks her ass. 
She yelps, struggling against the hand against her back that’s keeping her on the desk. She’s hit one more time and then two and three. The slaps are forceful and fiery, leaving her skin scalded and singed. 
A roar erupts from the depths of her soul when she feels a finger easing her thong. The force of her scream catches Amycus off guard, enough for Y/N to elbow him and dive to the ground for her wand. 
“Cruc—”
“Oh, so now you want to cast it!” 
With ease, Amycus manages to slap Y/N’s wand away. He ruthlessly places his palm against her stomach, pushing her back to the ground. 
Her head aches from the force of the blow, a scream barrelling through the space between her lips when Amycus towers over her, digging his obsidian nails into her skin. 
“It’s a shame that the most delightful toys happen to be the filthiest. Maybe this will teach you and your kind that you will forever remain beneath us.”
Y/N cries as Amycus incapacitates her lips. She squirms underneath his body, vaguely aware of the fabric he’s tearing in half, though oblivious to what clothing item it belongs to. 
She tries to non-verbally cast a spell, but her mind is too distracted to focus on the incantation. All she knows is that she needs to get Amycus off her. And yet, no amount of strength in her hands or her spells manages to draw him to a stop. 
His spit traces her lower lip, tantalizingly closing the distance between her mouth and collarbone. Y/N shudders, bellowing at the thought of his saliva trailing her skin. 
She wails, screams, and shouts until she realizes that Amycus probably cast Silencio without her knowing. Though futile, she tries to push his body weight off her, even resorts to kicking his ribs. 
It doesn’t work... until by some miracle from Merlin himself Amycus’ body flies toward the back wall, releasing her.
Scene End
Y/N gasps, pushing her palms against the tiled floor and lifting herself to a sitting position. Her chest heaves as she looks at the discarded fabric of her skirt, the scattered buttons of her shirt, and the remains of her robe that are haphazardly strewn across the room. 
Faint sounds register at the back of her mind. A heavy breath, mirroring her own, emanates from behind, accompanied by an erratic heartbeat that matches hers. Amidst it all, she picks up on Amycus’s forlorn groans, muffled by the surrounding darkness. Resilient ropes now bind his hands and feet, rendering him completely motionless.
“Get Y/N out of here,” a voice orders. It’s far away—at least, Y/N thinks so. But despite the fog around its edges, she can somehow sense the enmity lacing it. 
Before she can process the shadows creeping closer to her side, a robe is draped over her shoulders as arms wrap securely around her.
She thrashes against the man holding her, trying to repel his hands from her body. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he says in a low octave. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. I promise you. He can't touch you anymore.” 
The voice carries a bit of an edge, yet it’s the most soothing sound she’s heard all day. Her lips quiver as she internally fights with her thoughts, head spinning and shaking in defeat. 
The halls around her move fast, time seemingly irrelevant at this point. She’s crying and mumbling incoherently, burying her face in the fabric of this stranger’s clothes, which smell like a familiar blend of mint and citrus. 
The robe is wrapped tighter around her shoulders, and she receives a faint squeeze as she’s brought up a staircase. Words are whispered, a door is opened, and voices mingle with one another until a delicate tone enters her headspace.
“Draco, who’s that you’re carrying?” 
“It’s Y/N,” the male voice, the one belonging to Draco, replies. Draco kicks open a door and places Y/N on the bed. She wails even more at the action, curling herself into a ball—at this point, she doesn’t know if she should be relieved or terrified.
“What the hell happened to her?” 
“Lower your voice, Pansy! Can’t you see she’s scared enough?” 
Pansy stutters for a few seconds before asking again, “Who did this to her?” 
Draco hesitates, looking between the two young women. “Amycus,” he replies. And though it’s barely a mumble, it’s enough to send Y/N spiraling. 
Pansy’s jade eyes tread carefully as they peer over Y/N’s frail body. She sees the red marks on her hands and the blood that seeps from the cuts on her face. “Cruciatus?” she asks, but something in her tone makes it obvious that it’s just wishful thinking. 
“No,” Draco answers. Y/N’s sniffles and shudders fill the air as Pansy and Draco exchange silent glances. Y/N clutches her throat, rubbing it to try and get herself more oxygen. 
“What do we do?” 
Draco's footsteps echo as he retreats toward the door. “You're going to her clean up. If Theo hasn’t killed Amycus yet, I’m going to join him in his pursuit.”
There was something in that last line that clamped agony around Y/N’s heart, squeezing like a vice. She wept, only vaguely conscious of Pansy’s soothing touch in her hair and the remnants of Draco's anger looming around the room.
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The mirror in the bathroom captures two girls in its glassy frame. One of them is put together while the other looks worse for wear. Y/N stares at her wild reflection, moroseness painting her irises. A tiny sob escapes her barely parted lips, and Pansy decides to tear Y/N’s attention away from the broken girl staring at them through the mirror. 
She softly holds Y/N's hand and helps her to the shower, turning her head when Y/N undresses and then carefully cleans her blotched skin. Once they’re done, she lends Y/N some pajamas and underwear, giving her the privacy and space to change into them before helping her dry her hair.
Wordlessly, Pansy leads Y/N away from the mirror. Her grip is firm as she swings open the bathroom door. Y/N squints against the sudden invasion of light from the room beyond. Her gaze takes in the expanse of her surroundings and the rich emerald hue of the Head Dorm's walls. Then, her eyes lock on two men. One with platinum blond hair and the other with brunette locks, both embracing the shadows with deadly intent in their fiery eyes.
She bristles, caught between shying away and clutching the attention she’s receiving from them. Y/N doesn’t dwell on their appearance for too long, afraid to develop the ability to read their eyes and stumble across the shame and pity possibly nestled within them. 
Pansy whispers something under her breath, which Y/N fails to hear under the barrage of despondency she finds herself in. She feels Pansy’s hesitant touch on her forearm, briefly catching her and Draco retreating away, the door to the room closing behind them in a soft thud. 
Silence runs freely around the room, undeterred by the confined space. Its loudness disturbs Y/N, forcing her to wince. She wills herself to say something, but all the words are lodged in her throat, searing it from the inside out.
Theodore takes a deep breath, the sound piercing the stillness in the air. But his words don’t leave his mouth the same way his gaze never paces beyond a fixed point on the ground. 
“Why are you not looking at me?” Y/N asks. She’s surprised that she’s articulated her thoughts even though she doesn’t have enough strength to speak.
Theodore shakes his head. “I can’t”. His words have finally forced his gaze away from the ground, although he’s refusing to settle it on her.
“I wouldn’t look at me either. I get it.” Y/N sniffles. Darkness clouds her sight. She’s tired and aching, barely finding her grip on reality. 
She wants to scream, and she wants to cry, but it’s like she doesn’t know how. Like her mainframe has been hijacked and forced to shut down. 
Something in her periphery catches her attention. Theodore is now standing before her, hands trembling by his sides. They move to embrace her waist, to hold her shoulders, to cup her face; but they never do. They only trace invisible lines that mirror her figure. It’s then that she notices the fray in his gaze. Instead of the rejection and the indifference she expected to find, there’s dejectedness, misery, and pain. 
“I would look at you forever if you let me,” Theodore answers with his hands hanging in the space between them. “If you would still allow me.”
“Touch me,” Y/N retorts. Hold me, find me, fix me, love me.
And Theodore does just that with unprecedented gentleness. He traces her cheeks with his thumb and pulls her by the waist closer to his side. His nose nuzzles her neck, breathing in her scent. His lips press against the shell of her ear, his warm breath penetrating her soul and sending a fond tingle down her spine. 
He touches her, not like she’s a porcelain doll or a bomb about to detonate. Theodore touches her like she’s the most precious piece of art he’s ever encountered, and he’s afraid that even one stumbled breath could force her colors away.
“I love you,” he confesses. A loan tear accompanies his declaration, inscribing the words on the fabric of Y/N’s soul. “And I am so sorry. So sorry, my love, for what my absence and negligence have put you through.”
“Theo…”
“No, Y/N. Don’t. Don’t try to say anything.” 
Theodore wipes her tears, gently tucking some loose strands of her hair behind her ears. Y/N nods, allowing her boyfriend to hoist her in his arms and carry her to bed. She hides her face in his neck, absorbing the lingering traces of his sandalwood perfume. 
When he places her on the bed, she notices the change in his demeanor as soon as she tangles her legs with his and rushes to press his hands against his chest. Her eyes fill with tears, and she fails to prepare herself for the rejection that she’s afraid might be rushing her way. 
To her astonishment, Theodore pulls her into a tighter hug, as if seeking a connection beyond the surface, binding together not only their skin but also the intricate layers below—souls, hearts, atoms.
“Did he…” Theodore pauses, choking on unspoken words. “Did he go far?”
Y/N shook her head. “No. You and Draco came just in time.”
“Barely,” Theodore denies. A stolen glance gives Y/N a clear view of his clenched jaw and crestfallen expression. The war may be looming, yet to find its way to the Wizarding World, but it has already made a dominion in Theodore’s features. 
“Just in time.” Minutes pass while Y/N is cocooned protectively in between Theodore’s strong arms. They encase her, filling her being with the placidity and the tenderness that was robbed of her some time ago. Her eyes close, darkness not as fearful as it seemed now that Theodore’s hands are weaving through her hair, and his voice is carrying a tender lullaby. “How did you know?”
Theodore’s hands falter and the lullaby ends on an abrupt note. His arms pull Y/N closer to his chest as he ruefully explains what happened, “A Gryffindor boy found me. He was frightened and jittery. At first, I thought it was because Draco and I were standing together. Then he said something about Defense class, the Carrows, and the Cruciatus. Your name got suddenly tangled in the gruesomeness of it all, so I rushed to the class as far as I could." 
“They wanted me to hurt him,” Y/N whispers in a small voice.
“I know.”
“I couldn’t do it.”
Theodore looks at her with glassy eyes. “I know you would never.” 
His hands sooth Y/N, featherless touches easing the altercation in her soul. She meets his gaze, heart shattering at the pain he harbors. She knows it’s not easy for Theodore to be a silent witness to torture and heartache, understanding his unconscious pursuit of absorbing pain and rooting it in his very being.
“Please,” she begins, “please, Theo. Don’t blame yourself.”
“I’ve failed you.”
“You haven’t.”
He declines vehemently, “I promised to protect you from the darkness, within me and beyond me. And I have clearly done neither.”
You had no way of knowing! Y/N argued in her head. You, alone, cannot stop this madness! So many rebuttals swarmed her head. She wanted to pelt Theodore with every single one of them until some sense got knocked into him. “Darkness,” he says so loosely as if he’s ever exposed her to any of it. 
All her memories of Theodore exuded radiance, softness, and peace. He’s only ever steered her away from the darkness, whether it was from Umbridge’s rage back in their fifth year or Bellatrix’s terror at the end of their sixth. 
To hear him speak of himself like this, as if he’s one of them, a shadow branded by the mark of death, hurts her more than everything Amycus did to her. 
“What did you do to Amycus?”
The name causes Theodore’s heart to falter beneath the palm of Y/N’s hands. Her eyes trace the veins of his neck, astounded by the voraciousness of their color as his anger escalates. “Do not say that vermin’s name.” 
Darkness, Theodore would call it if he sees himself now. And yet, all the world is witnessing according to Y/N is a darker shade of love and concern: just as sincere, a lot more warm. 
“Carrow,” she concedes. “What did you do to Carrow?”
“I wanted to kill him,” Theodore answers, studying Y/N’s face for a reaction. “I almost killed him.” If he was looking for disgust or worse, fear, he couldn’t find it.
“And why didn’t you?”
“Draco called for Snape.”
Y/N hums, absentmindedly reaching for Theodore’s hand. He hesitates when he feels her fingers entwining with his, his entire body tensing up. Y/N whines, and he takes a deep breath. His fingers lace hers, squeezing her hand before bringing it to his lips. 
“Are you in trouble?”
“No, treasure. No one but that scum is. Snape said nothing. He bound his hands and escorted him to his office.”
“Good,” Y/N replies.
“That’s not all,” Theodore intercedes, catching her attention. She shifts in his arms, waiting for his next words with a bated breath. “We’re getting out of here.”
“What?” came Y/N’s question, loud, sharp, and clear. It resonated across the room, its intensity surprising her.
“I didn’t kill him,” Theodore admits. He’s moved now, body peering away from Y/N’s hold to better study her features. She keeps them the way they are, with no sign of the acrimony or the resentment she suspects Theodore is looking for. “But I uttered the curse. Draco countered it somehow, and it rebounded. Hit the wall instead. It cracked it, the same way I cracked every single bone in his body and watched him bleed.”
As the words fill the space between them, Y/N rushes to grab Theodore’s hands. She inspects them, surprised to find them bruising. How did I not notice this? She whimpers at her late realization—her neglect. But now that his marred skin is beneath the scrutiny of her gaze, she notices that the blue and purple hues are rather dull in comparison to his story.
Almost as if Theodore understood her silent concerns, he says, “Cruciatus.” Y/N bristles, though her body is traitorous. It jolts, feeling the residue of the invisible needles and acid-laced knives. “Sectumsempra and a number of other curses that flew out of my mouth without thought when I saw you lying on the ground, bloody, bruised, broken. Torn apart by a mediocre middle-aged man, who deserves nothing but to be decapitated, torn limb by limb, until there’s not even a speck of his ashes left on the—”
“Theo,” Y/N calls. Her voice quivers, mirroring the tremble in her body provoked by those words. “Stop.”
“I’m sorry,” Theodore sniffs, head bending down. 
Y/N rushes to answer, shaking her head violently. “No. I can’t… I can’t watch you tear yourself apart over something you had no control over.”
“I—”
“Listen to me! Listen to me and not the lies inside your head. Does it hurt? Yes. Does it burn? More than a Fienfyre cast by the Dark Lord himself. But you weren’t there—no, Theo, come back to me and stop traveling in time inside your head.”
“I’m supposed to protect you,” Theo defended. “Merlin, Y/N. I was supposed to be there! To stop all of this from happening. You’re in pain more than I am. So, stop subduing my anger!”
“I’m subduing your self-deprecation! I’m not blaming you, and I will not fan the flames of your anger. You had no way, no way, of knowing Carrow would do this.”
“I’m supposed to protect you,” he answers with a little less fight and a lot more shame. 
“And you did, Theo,” Y/N assures, bringing herself closer to his side. “You got me out. You saved me. In time.”
“Barely!” Theodore screams, a deluge of tears running down his cheeks and burying his resolve in their undertow. “But I will save you this time. I’ll get you out. Both of us. I’ll take you away, somewhere you won’t be judged for your blood or your mistake in choosing me.”
“You’re not a mistake,” Y/N refutes, begging him to see. “Look at you. You call yourself a vision of darkness when your love and care are shining through.”
“My love is darkness, viciousness, and cruelty.” It’s almost as if he’s the one begging her to understand.
Tears cascade down Y/N’s cheeks, the saltiness and bitterness of them incomparable to Theodore’s words. “Your love is fierceness,” Y/N professes, taking Theodore’s breath away, “seamlessness, and warmth.”
“I made you live through pain,” Theodore pleads, hoping she agrees. But she doesn't.
“And I will live after it. With you.”
The confession shatters the last of Theodore’s resolve. He pulls Y/N closer, resting his chin atop her head and enveloping her in a secure embrace. “I’m so sorry,” he cries. His fingers weave through her hair, gripping the back of her head, anchoring himself in her presence—convincing himself that she’s here. “You are so strong, treasure. Stronger than life and death, brighter than light, and fiercer than shadows. I love you, my Y/N. And I swear on your head and on my mother’s last breath that I will protect you even if I have to do the unforgivable. No one will ever hurt you ever again.”
“I know,” Y/N nods as Theodore kisses the crown of her head. Each breath he takes, every word he utters, stitches through her soul, mending the threads of herself. “And I love you all the more for it.”
“You’ve endured a war. I’ll be damned if I let you face another,” Theodore promises, capturing Y/N’s lips and seamlessly merging his soul with hers.
Tomorrow remains uncertain, and control extends only so far across the horizon. Yet, with Theodore by her side, Y/N finds the darkness considerably less formidable. Even if he's willing to commit the unforgivable to shield her, forgiveness is a given. His love is the tranquility that follows the tempest, and she's ready to navigate through destruction with Theodore.
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I never expected to write about a topic as painful and sensitive as SA or rape.
Hearing the multiple accounts of women around me made me see how these experiences are prevalent yet scarcely communicated. When I wrote this piece, it was with no intention to diminish the seriousness of the issue but rather use this platform as a conduit to raise the matter and bring it to light. Whether you’ve been personally impacted by this disheartening situation or witnessed someone close to you go through this, I want you to know that you are not alone. You are incredibly brave for enduring this, and there is no reason to feel ashamed. You lived through it and will live after it with even more fierceness and courage than you've ever had.
If you ever feel like talking, please know that I am here to listen, without judgment or reservation. 🤍
All-Fandom Taglist: @xxrougefangxx
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cienie-isengardu · 7 months ago
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Zuko and Azula in "The Beach"
Lately I think a lot about "The Beach" episode [x], especially about this small detail of great teamwork Zuko and Azula have during the game.
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Zuko is looking ahead, directly facing their rivals (who had the control of the ball at this moment) but his body is clearly lowered to the ground, left hand most likely touching the ground, legs bent and widely spaced - a clear contrast to Mai standing near and how he stood before on two separate occasions
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which is why I think Zuko willingly create an opportunity for Azula, so she could jump higher - something she definitely used to their team’s advantage. If Azula simply jumped on her brother’s back when he wasn’t expecting it or wasn’t ready, he would probably just fall face down from the impact but as the scene shows, he had no such problem nor was angry about it in the following scenes.
During the game sequences there was no dialogue shown between our protagonists, so it is hard to determine if Azula in advance called Zuko to give her a “lift” or Zuko offered on his own, or did they were that much in sync they just acted without thinking. Regardless I like this few seconds long interaction, because for me it implies how they trusted each other despite all the rivalry and bitterness from previous episodes. Like Zuko trusted Azula won’t use that moment to hurt/humiliate him by overuse of force, the same as Azula trusted in Zuko’s strength and that he won’t mess up by losing his balance. It is a small thing but no less sweet to see them working well together when fighting for the same goal - what reminds me a bit their teamwork from the previous season finale.
Interestingly, it was also the second time Zuko assisted Azula in scoring against their rivals while not scoring himself any point on screen. The first time happened almost right at the beggining of the game (second from total five sequences)
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while each girl have the solo sequence of winning a point:
Azula's first attack,
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later Ty Lee landing on the net
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and Mai kicking the ball (and presumably scoring)
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while Zuko’s two actions are shared only with his younger sister while there is no sense of competition between the siblings, something contrasting a lot with some previous and later episodes.
Azula is bossy and competitive through most of the episode and her brother lets her be that without a complaint. Azula and Zuko get along pretty well and A) do not argue (with the exception of the campfire scene and then they argue not even for the whole scene itself) and B) don't get on each nerves the way they do in the palace, with Ozai's presence looming in the back of their mind. I absolutely adore this episode, as it humanizes all our Fire Nation characters by showing them as teenagers outside the war zone but also giving us a bit of insight into what Azula and Zuko could be if Ozai didn't pit them against each other. And they could be a great team!
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ahhnini · 5 months ago
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imagine rafe flirting with you at the hotel you were both staying at
inspired by the french dude that was flirting with me during vacation, if he’s reading this; hi, ur mom was the absolute sweetest 😭
obx masterlist
word count - 685
warnings - reader is called y/n like once, suggestive, not proofread!
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you were so bored. it was nighttime, the air dry and crisp. you had to cure your boredom in some way, so you decide to opt for a late night soak in the resort hot tub downstairs.
a towel was wrapped around your torso as you make your way to the lobby, fingers fidgeting on your phone.
you take off towel as you arrive at the hot tub, secretly cheering to yourself as no one is in it yet. all to yourself.
you dip a toe in, unintentionally flinching your body up. you sigh as you feel a gust of wind flow. you take a deep breath before submerging your body into the bubbling water.
this felt nice, you think. but you were still bored. you go on your phone, which had been resting atop the ledge. you scroll through your socials, answer some texts, and read up upon the latest celebrity gossip.
you were in the middle of watching a tiktok video when you hear a person, or rather, people, get in the jacuzzi with you.
you look up from your phone, seeing a young blonde woman and a young blond man. the guy was cute, not gonna lie. he had a toned body and a slight tan from the sun. stop staring.
you put your phone by the edge of the jacuzzi and lean your head back, letting the jets relax your muscles. all three of you sit in silence, enjoying the relaxing atmosphere.
after the while, the young lady speaks up, “where are you from?” which brings you out your daze. you turn your head towards her, and softly smile as you tell her where you’re from. she speaks up again, “we’re from north carolina, my name is sarah and this is my brother rafe,” she smiles brightly at you. you reply, “it’s nice to meet you both. i’m y/n” you glance over at rafe, and saw that he was staring at you, a slight smirk present on his lips. you awkwardly look down and clear your throat, trying to hide your flustered expression. all three of you return to sitting in silence, looking up at the clear night sky.
“i’m gonna head back up, rafe.” sarah sighs as she exits the jacuzzi. rafe nods at her as she wraps a towel around her body. the wind was stronger now that it was later in the night, and your face was cold. you glance at rafe again, and he was already staring at you. he began striking up a conversation with you, his voice low and having a slight hint of seduction, “how long are you gonna be here?” he raises his eyebrow. “the whole week, I just got here today, actually,” you speak softly.
“you here alone?”
you could practically hear the smugness in his voice. “uh, no, with some friends.” rafe clicks his tongue, nodding, “ah, that’s a shame, would’ve loved havin’ you for the night.”
your friends wouldn’t mind, they’re all doing their own thing out here, anyways.
“aren’t you here with your sister?” you whisper.
“I am, but I have my own room, didn’t wanna share with my other sister, I like my space,” he shrugs.
you make an ah sound as you take in his face once more. the blue light from the jacuzzi was making his features more defined. you felt warm, and it was not because of the water.
he scoots closer, whispering in your ear, “you’re pretty cute,” he begins playing with your hair, twirling it around his fingers while his eyes move up and down your body. “wanna spend a couple hours in my room?” his hand lightly touches your leg, long, slender fingers moving up. your breath hitches, and your eyes become blown with lust. “yes, I do,” you whisper in his ear.
rafe flashes his charming smile once again. he climbs up the steps of the jacuzzi, putting his towel around his waist. he gives you a suggestive smile before reaching his hand out to you,
“let’s go. I don’t have all day, sweetheart.”
you were in for a long night.
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z00oo1 · 1 month ago
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Collin and Penelope Fics Pt 2
Ran out of room on my last list so I'm starting a new one here! I do not own any of these fics these are just recs. Some summaries have been shortened to save space.
Knock First by Lilyofthevolume
Penelope and Colin are tired of being interrupted by his catty secretary, Marina. What happens when they stop caring about getting caught?
for you are my fate by maxmayfield
After dancing with Penelope at a society ball for the first time, Colin begins to see his friend in a new ligh
I Wanna Be Yours (Polin Prompts) by Lovelymagnolia
just a bunch of polin prompts
The One With Colin's Flemish Kiss by bridgertonbabe
Colin's secret relationship with Penelope is nearly rumbled when he slips up and kisses his girlfriend in front of his sisters-in-law. In order to cover up his blunder he makes a bold impulsive choice to provide Kate and Sophie with a distraction - but it's a choice which his brothers don't take kindly to in the slightest. Friends AU
and it was all yellow by ninjamanda
Canon divergent AU one-shot where Colin and Pen actually "communicate" and talk through their issues on their wedding night!
all the strings attached by penelopecolin (sexymonk)
Penelope struggles to draw boundaries with her new roommate - and when Colin starts behaving peculiarly towards her, she finds herself headed for a downward spiral.
The Honeymoon Period by Rachel_writes_plays
A little story about one specific day between the ending of episode 8 and the events of the epilogue.
blue dress on a boat by missparker
Penelope's efforts to find herself a husband on the marriage mart are going poorly. Benedict Bridgerton needs a wife they strike a deal to marry. Colin comes home from his travels to discover the engagement, he handles it poorly, to say the least.
Broken Glass by Radomizedusername
When a happily married Colin and Penelope briefly move back into the Bridgerton house during the late stages of Penelope's pregnancy, Anthony finds his temper rising. He expected that he would hardly notice their presence back in his home. Little did he realize he would hardly notice anything else.
Six Pomergrante Seeds by jerrymander
Colin's heartbreaking words to Penelope lead her to make different choices just days away from their wedding.
Friends, Foes, and Fernes by Mariequitecontrarie
When Colin and Penelope run into Lord Debling as a couple for the first time, their awkward conversation unearths lingering doubts and insecurities.
Matchmaker by Readingchef45
 how Eloise ensures that Penelope will be her sister from the ages of 9 to 25.
wherever you will go by nojamhands
Penelope's job requires her to finally settle in London, while Colin's asks him to take on one last trek to the Pacific. When Penelope doesn't hear from him for nearly two weeks, she starts to panic, then gets a phone call that changes the course of her life forever
still i can't get enough. by stolemystark17
Anthony is looking for his Viscountess and Penelope made the list. Colin does not care for this development. (But not because he's courting her).He is NOT courting her. He's just looking at her respectfully. As a friend.
The Family Life by alexxou_stories24
One-shots about married/parents Polin (Regency/Modern/Fluff/Smut).
you got me overnight (just let me be close to you) by marriedpolin (bisexualoliviab)
Or, a 5+1 fic about respecting the sanctity of a shared bedchamber.
EpiPen by everlarktoast
“This is Penelope. She moved into the house across the way. She’s allergic to nuts, but she has her EpiPen." Five times Bridgertons decide to stop eating nuts, and the time Colin realizes he’d given them up a long time ago.
When Lady Whistledown has a hangover by Luna1994
Penelope looked at the paper confused, it was the newspaper of Lady Whistledown.
"I would like to end this edition with probably the most scandalous thing that happened in last night’s ball, Penelope Featherington had a change on her appearance, I would not blame you dear reader for not noticing it, this author often forgets her existence, however Colin Bridgerton apparently did notice it, the two of them were seen in a dark corner
Juvenile Assumptions by NLovett
The one where Hyacinth runs away from home...yeah, all the way to Colin & Penelope's house across the square.
To London on Brooding Wings by FrenEdits95
As her world slowly devolves into a haze of lust, blood, and what can only be described as madness, she finds herself wondering if she should let her friends help her or if she should try and save them from herself.
The Love of Older siblings by Remus2039
This is a version of how Kanthony reacts to the lovers quarrel of Polin. And Kanthony's affection for Pen.
All Will Be Well by BritishGirl93
Polin AU - Medieval times
Promise Me by Jennnnyyyy
Penelope is nearing child birth and is worried that Colin might have to make a difficult choice, she has Benedict promise to be there and decide instead. Will he be able to keep his promise?
The First Draft by kws136
Colin is privy to the first drafts of the letters Pen wrote to his mother. He doesn't handle it well. Then again, maybe he does.
Echoes of You by Penny_Feathers_Bright
Edmund Bridgerton sees a little redheaded girl fall into a mud puddle at Hyde Park. Little does he know that she's his future daughter-in-law. A fluffy oneshot where Edmund meets Penelope before the events of the main series.
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robin-the-enby · 1 year ago
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Black butler Ciel with a older sister who rather spend more time reading, writing, spend time in her imagination, or her own self interests than run the company. She has her own business of running a successful book series.
Pairing: Ciel Phantomhive x older sister!reader Warnings: mentions of past trauma (not descriptive) A/N: Thank you very much for the ask and, as usual, I'm so sorry for the delay. If you don't mind, I decided to write this as headcanons. Also, the relationship between Ciel and the reader is strictly platonic. I have decided that I will not write romantic Ciel works anymore, because he's a child. And while I did have a crush on him when we were the same age, I have moved on and it would be highly inappropriate, I believe.
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I think it's safe to say that you are very important to Ciel. You are his last living relative after all.
It doesn't matter if you're close or not. I don't think Ciel would appear to want to be close to anyone, even a relative. But that isn't really the case.
Now, he's definitely not clingy. He's self-sufficient, maybe a little too much. He definitelly doesn't need to rely on you.
But that doesn't mean he doesn't like to spend time with you. On the contrary. And since you are the quiet type, it makes spending time together much more comfortable for him.
He would be the type of person to do his own thing and let you do your own, just...in the same space. He could be sorting paperwork in his office, but you would be there as well, just a few meters away from him, scribbling down in a notebook on drawing in your sketchbook.
It's comfortable, it's quiet, and it means the world to him. If he looks past the age difference (and that little voice that tells him that maybe your roles should be exchanged), he almost feels normal. And that type of peace is very rare in his life, so he takes any and every chance to spend time with you like this.
It was very strange to him though, mostly at first, when he returned to the mansion. The way you are so different. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that you have no interest in the family company, or that you rather spend time in your own head than in th real world.
He does get the appeal of that, it's just that he thinks it's...foolish. He is a logical person, who always thinks ahead, to rule out any possibility of others taking advantage of him again. If he submitted to the luxury of running away from the past that still haunts him, he would achieve nothing.
But the more time he spends with you and the more he integrates himself back into the regular world (as regular as it can be for him at least), he sees that you're many things, but not foolish. Yes, you're a dreamer, perhaps a bit naive, but not stupid.
In the end, he prouds himself to be your brother. You have a great imagination and sometimes you help him more than you could imagine. If he has a case to solve, you help give him an outside look into things from a perspective he could never even imagine.
He appreciates your art as well. It would depend on your style and whether or not you were spared the torture he went through to determine how much, but he definitely appreciates it and thinks it's beautiful. If your style is a form of self presentation, translation of your shared traumas and deepest feelings, he might like it just a smidge more.
When you present the idea of publishing your own book, he is definitely on board. He likes to read your stories anyway, he can't see why others wouldn't enjoy it. He would definitely help you find the best publisher and arrange the best deal for you (with a little help from Sebastian, if needed).
When your book becomes a hit in London and the readers as well as critics start asking for a sequel, he feels proud. Proud of himself, for helping you make your dream come true, but mostly proud of you. For not conforming to expectations of others, who would assume you'd take over the Phantomhive company, but instead following your dreams and working hard to make them come true. It is that kind of strength he really admires. But of course, he knows how the world works and so he thinks his help was neccesary (and would continue to be in the future).
In the end, you have sort of a symbiotic relationship. Whenever you need anything for your work, Ciel gets it for you. Art supplies, sketchbooks, he can get you anything and you best believe it'll be in the best quality as well. He also helps you make deals with potential publishers or anyone who is interested in your work, making sure no one tries to scam you and that you get the most benefits from your labour.
In return, he asks for nothing. You already give him everything he needs from you. Your company. He gladly takes on the task of managing the family business, if it means that you can still sit by him in his study, scribbling away, as if nothing in the world had ever gone wrong.
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goodoldfashionedengineer · 2 months ago
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TUA Tumblr Simulator pt. 1
Find more here: pt. 2
🪩traumallama Follow
The Umbrella Academy never should have existed. Those were CHILDREN!! They were THIRTEEN when they first appeared! They KILLED people! Two of them DIED! It really goes to show how much you can do if you have money
FUCK Reginald Hargreeves
🌺thinkingthings Follow
Wait 5 DIED?!
🪩 traumallama Follow
It was never confirmed, but honestly, seems the most likely that they would have just covered it up. If he's still alive, I hope he got to live a nice life without that cult
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💗L0veOnLo4n Follow
Every journalist, interviewer, fan, whatever, who is asking Allison Hargreeves about her brothers or her father should just be sent to space. How would you like it if I bring up your childhood trauma constantly?
🌫️love-h4te-whatevs Follow
Didn't she like kill people?
💗L0veOnLo4n Follow
She was a CHILD! It was all planned by their father, he was the one who "trained" them. He should go to prison but that won't ever happen. Not to mention he didn't just adopt those children, he bought them
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🌌jupiters-moons Follow
WE GOT A BEHIND THE SCENES UMBRELLA ACADEMY BOOK OWNDNAOWOE
🌌jupiters-moons Follow
I am so excited to go read this
🌌jupiters-moons Follow
Starting off: WOW Reginald Hargreeves was an even bigger asshole behind closed doors. Who would have thought?
🌌jupiters-moons Follow
Okay, okay okay WHAT WHAT WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK?!!
ALLISON Hargreeves and Spaceboy were IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER?!
WEREN'T THEY LIKE SIBLINGS?!
I know the book says that they weren't really a family... But they were?? They are clearly described as brothers and sisters?
🌌jupiters-moons Follow
Had to put the book down for a while
Gosh, that so surprised me
I used to have the BIGGEST crush on Spaceboy but now I doubt I can think of them the same way ever again
🌌jupiters-moons Follow
Calmed down, I'll continue now
🌌jupiters-moons Follow
BIG MISTAKE, BIG MISTAKE
WHY ARE YOU TELLING US ABOUT THE TIME YOUR MOTHER TOLD YOU AT DINNER THAT YOUR BROTHER HAD HIS FIRST WET DREAM!
That does NOT belong in a book!
🌌jupiters-moons Follow
Drug addiction by age 13, damn
🌕eyestothesun Follow
Wait who was addicted to drugs
🌨️twirlingandwhirling Follow
The Séance. Kinda surprised so many people are shocked about this. There are quite a few interviews with them in which it is just blatantly obvious. Look at his eyes in this one for example. Or in this one he is so chill, not really there, but his siblings do all the talking
🌳drrrrreams Follow
Wow first time I've heard about this but this is so... Incredibly sad.
👥lurkeringlurrlurr Follow
Honestly? I'm more surprised that not more of them are addicts after all they've been through
🌌jupiters-moons Follow
Thanks for the additions!
Five's tragical disappearance. This is the worst part of it by far. They were so close and you can just feel the grief. And to never know what happened, damn
And one of their brothers can see dead people...
I don't know if I'd want to ask him or not. Asking for closure's sake, but if you don't, there is still hope that he'll come back some day.
This is just so sad
🌌jupiters-moons Follow
Spoke too soon, it can get sadder
Ben was their glue, his death was so brutal. He died so young and so painful, I can't imagine what that must be like. For him or for the siblings.
No wonder they disbanded after that. It makes you question your own mortality
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🚵rolly-molly Follow
Wait what happened to Spaceboy? Did he give up on missions and move out?
🤺theyseemen0t Follow
He died
🚵rolly-molly Follow
WHAT
🤺theyseemen0t Follow
I mean, it was never confirmed, but he got really badly injured on his last mission, lethally, and hasn't been seen since
🚵rolly-molly Follow
I had no idea. Rest in Peace
🍇thelandbeforewine Follow
False news, he got injured, but he survived. Otherwise we would have known about it from "Extra Ordinary" which came out last week, given that all the other family secrets were shared in it.
🚵rolly-molly Follow
Ohh, thank you so much! That makes me really happy, I was really worried
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onlyforyoukook · 2 months ago
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Forbidden Feelings
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paring haechan x fem¡reader
synopsis: college student haechan who has a crush on his best friend mark lee’s sister. whom by the way is COMPLETELY off limits to his friends.
genre: smau
PROFILES 2 - haechan & friends
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- Haechan, a lively and charismatic college student, is used to getting along with everyone. Known for his quick wit and playful personality, he’s a social butterfly who never struggles to make friends. However, there’s one person who makes him nervous in a way he’s never felt before—Y/N, the younger sister of his best friend, Mark Lee.
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- Mark Lee is Y/N’s laid-back older brother, known for his calm and easygoing demeanor that instantly puts people at ease. He’s the type of guy who seems to handle everything effortlessly, whether it’s his studies, his friendships, or the constant attention he gets from girls who are always swooning over him. Majoring in Music, Mark is incredibly talented, with a natural gift for songwriting and performing, making him a standout on campus. Despite his popularity, Mark is humble and down-to-earth, never letting the attention get to his head. He’s protective of Y/N, always looking out for her while giving her the space to grow on her own. Mark’s chill, no-drama personality makes him the kind of friend everyone wants, and he has a loyal circle around him, including Haechan, one of his closest friends. With his charming smile and laid-back vibe, Mark effortlessly balances being both the cool guy on campus and the supportive older brother.
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- Renjun is one of Haechan’s closest friends, though he’s quite the opposite of his outgoing personality. Renjun is quiet, introspective, and a little shy, preferring to observe rather than take the spotlight. His love for nature and art makes him a thoughtful soul, with a deep appreciation for the beauty in the world around him. Whether he’s sketching in his notebook or taking long walks to clear his mind, Renjun finds solace in the calmness of nature. He’s majoring in a field that aligns with his passions, and he shares an Environmental Science class with Y/N. Though he tends to keep to himself in class, Renjun admires Y/N's dedication to environmental issues and often finds himself quietly supporting her ideas during discussions. While he’s reserved, Renjun has a kind heart, and once people get to know him, they see the depth of his creativity and compassion. His friendship with Haechan is an interesting balance while Haechan is the life of the party, Renjun is the calming presence who keeps things grounded.
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- Jeno has been one of Haechan’s best friends since grade school, and the two share a long history filled with inside jokes and a close bond that has only grown stronger over time. Jeno is known for his easygoing and reliable nature, always there for his friends whenever they need him. He has a quiet confidence that makes him approachable, and while he’s not one to seek attention, his warm personality naturally draws people in. Majoring in Photography, Jeno has a keen eye for detail and loves capturing the world through his lens. His passion for photography is personal, especially since his relationship with Jaemin, his boyfriend, has become his favorite subject. Jeno often takes photos of Jaemin, finding beauty and inspiration in the small, everyday moments they share. Their relationship is full of warmth and affection, and Jeno’s photography is his way of capturing the love and happiness they have together. Jeno's loyalty and artistic nature make him a deeply valued friend. His dedication to both his art and his relationship with Jaemin shines through in everything he does.
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- Jaemin is one of Haechan’s best friends from grade school, known for his stunning, almost ethereal beauty that has quickly gained him a following, especially on social media. His sharp features and captivating smile make him stand out wherever he goes, but despite his popularity, Jaemin is naturally an introvert. Around strangers, he can be quiet and reserved, but when he’s with his close-knit circle Haechan, Jeno, and the rest of their group his true, playful self comes out. His extroverted side shines when he feels comfortable, and his humor and warmth are infectious in the right company. Majoring in Art, Jaemin is deeply passionate about drawing, and his favorite subject is, unsurprisingly, his boyfriend Jeno. He finds endless inspiration in Jeno, often sketching him in candid moments, capturing not just his appearance but the love and connection they share. Jaemin’s art is an extension of his emotions, and his drawings of Jeno hold a special significance, a private expression of their relationship. While he’s often admired for his looks, those close to him know that his real beauty lies in his kindness, creativity, and the way he pours his heart into everything he loves—including Jeno.
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- Chenle, one of Haechan's best friends, has a magnetic charm that draws people in effortlessly. Born into wealth, he's a classic nepo baby, but you wouldn't guess it from his friendly, down-to-earth nature. Basketball is his passion, and his admiration for Stephen Curry shows in his precision and dedication on the court. Majoring in athletics, Chenle balances his studies with his love for the game. But beyond his talents, what stands out the most is his playful spirit. He’s always cracking jokes or goofing around, making every moment with him light and fun. His high-pitched laughs are iconic, filling the room with an infectious joy that has everyone smiling and laughing along. With Chenle, there’s never a dull moment he’s the kind of friend who makes life brighter just by being around.
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- Jisung, Haechan’s younger best friend who is y/n’s age, is the quiet, thoughtful type. He’s shy, preferring to stay in the background while keeping a watchful eye on those he cares about. Though he may not always be the loudest in the group, he has a nurturing side that makes him the one who checks in on everyone, ensuring they’re alright. It’s his way of making sure he’s okay too by seeing to others' well-being. Majoring in environmental science alongside Renjun, Jisung has a deep connection with nature and a passion for preserving it. His calm, introspective nature blends well with his studies, and his quiet strength makes him someone everyone can rely on.
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materlist - previous - next
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neysaadept · 24 days ago
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Prometheus Chapter 3
Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader
Tags: Limited use of y/n but established last name. Swearing, mentions of the pandemic and human and sex trafficking. Canon typical violence. Sexual innuendos. Minors DNI.
Summary: You are an old acquaintance of Rebecca Wilson. She calls in a favor to help the BAU out of a financial debacle. This also means that the current CIA employed Reader has to consult with the BAU to make this work, and not just on paper. This has to be official, which means working with a disgruntled Section Chief Emily Prentiss. A lot.
First time writing like this, so any feedback is appreciated!
AO3
Chapter 2
Word Count: 3k
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GIF by aaronhotchstuff-archive
Chapter 3 - Welcome to the BAU
You roll over on the twin mattress at the sound of the chime notification on your phone. You force your eyes open, blinking them to focus on the digital clock and saw it is barely pass 5 AM.
“Wha’ th’ fuc’ …” you grumble, flailing a hand around for your cell. On the third pat, you slide it off the nightstand and flip it over. Seeing that the text was from Brian, it wakes you up enough to lean on an elbow to read the message.
Dad sent 0504 – Langley 0900
You rub the sleep out of your eyes and yawn before responding.
Whitlock sent 0511 – k
Brian must have everything ready for you to begin working with the BAU and wants to personally see you off. Or lecture you about the whole ordeal once again.
Probably both.
You set your alarm for 0700 and roll back over to get some more sleep. It was too early to worry about all of that now.
Brian was running late so you were shown to his office to wait. This happens often when you’re here since he is the director of the CIA and being pulled in countless directions.
You casually stroll around the room taking note of anything new. It was well over a year after all and there had to be something noteworthy to check out. You saw the same framed weathered American Flag hanging on the wall behind his desk, a staple of the position of CIA Director.  As you move around his desk the three monitors were locked, the screen shifting from TOP SECRET to the CIA and the DOJ seals. All so sterile per usual.
You push some files out of the way to get a better look at the pictures on his desk. One was Brian and his wife Carolyn on a recent fishing trip holding a catfish together on the dock. It had been raining, their jackets and hats streaked with raindrops. The weather didn’t stop the bright smiles they shared from dampening. An immortalized look of pure love despite the gloomy weather. You fight against a long-buried need that rarely blossoms and convince yourself it’s only because you miss your mother figure. It had been much longer since you shared any real space with her.
Going on over two years now, you think, but it was hard to pinpoint the exact time. It could have been even longer.
You tear your eyes away and swallow down the yearning, wanting to distance yourself from darker memories that were surfacing, but you were drawn to a partially covered picture of a younger Brian. Pushing aside the file on top of it, your eyes widen with surprise to see it was you and the four other trainees that were personally recruited by him. You gently stroke the younger faces of your brothers and sister before tapping against your own barely teen face. While everyone was looking to the camera, you had decided to be an ass and look off to the side at the lead doctor in the program. Your mouth was wide open as if you were going to take a bite out of Dr. G-.  
“Already snooping, huh?”
You look up and see Brian lingering in the doorway to his own office, watching as you were rifling through his desk. The CIA Director’s desk. If you were anyone else, he would have security throw you out immediately.
“It’s not what it looks like,” you quickly say.
“Then what does it look like?” he challenges, you now noticing how raspy his voice was.
Thinking back on this morning, Brian was probably in a meeting when he texted you. Only someone who knew him well enough, like yourself, could tell he was tired. His tailored black suit was wrinkled making it day two of wearing it, and his tie was crooked. It had been awhile since Brian put a comb through his salt and pepper hair. His usually well-groomed tapered look was flat and messy.
Definitely a national security situation going on … course, when isn’t there?
You slip the picture free and show him as answer to his question. “Was checking out the new memories but found an old one.”
He hums with understanding and closes the door for privacy. “Heard anything from them?”
“A text here and there. The usual.”
“Good,” he says with a nod, liking that answer. He holds his hand out and you reach over the desk to give him the picture. “Perhaps after this little detour with the BAU I can arrange a get together.”
Your grin comes fast, heart pounding with the excitement of a reunion. “Really?”
“Really. But first…” He joins you behind the desk and pulls out the top right drawer taking out a lanyard and wallet that had your FBI credentials. “… you have work to do. Prentiss is meeting you at Quantico at 11.”
You take the badge by the lanyard and dangle it in front of you. It was strange seeing your picture and signature with a different agency after all these years. You start feeling like you’re cheating on the CIA.
“Sounds good.” You take the wallet and tuck it inside the inner pocket of your suede jacket. “But to be honest? She so doesn’t like me.”
“And how is this news? Now, scoot.” Brian waves you away so he can sit down and carefully puts the picture back on his desk. “Look, you bring a lot of experience to the BAU, and under normal circumstances, you’d easily be scooped up with a proper transfer. This is anything but. Just,” he leans back and gestures with a curled hand trying to find the words, “… keep your head down, listen to orders and for the love of God, don’t be a smartass.”
You shuffle out of the way, slipping the lanyard over your head to join the CIA one already resting against your chest. “Way too late for that. I was an exceptional smartass when we first met. Just, not entirely on purpose.”
“Of course you were,” he sighs with an exhaustion from your years of antics. “Just … please don’t start a war between the CIA and FBI, huh?”
“Wow!” Aghast, you hold a hand against your chest. “And you think I’m dramatic?”
But you quickly drop your frivolous act to lean against Brian’s desk, tone growing serious while you cross your arms. “Hey, I know how important this is. Not just for the BAU but for you, too.”
You gently push at his knee with one of your own and his expression softens with the truth of your words. “I won’t let you down.”
Emily stands in front of the round table with the assembled team. She had just informed everyone of their new consultant.
“So, we have a new member of the BAU.” JJ nods while digesting this new information. “From … the CIA.”
“Doesn’t sound familiar at all,” laughs Luke, eying Prentiss.
She squints and purses her lips to hide how apprehensive the situation was truly making her. “This is only temporary until we find Sicarius,” Emily reminds them.
“What do we really know about her?” Rossi asks, looking towards Garcia. “You really haven’t given us much.”
“That’s because there isn’t much,” Garcia answers with an overexaggerated pronunciation of the last word. She scowls, pointing at the screen with the details you had given Emily. “And that is like less than much. I should have all the deets but this woman’s file is buried so deep we’d probably find Jimmy Hoffa’s body first.”
Clearly Garcia was still bothered by the situation.
“That’s a little extreme, Penelope,” Emily interjects with a tolerant voice, but her eyes narrowed pointedly at the tech guru to tread carefully.
“It’s still weird,” she sniped.
“Look, Rebecca vouches for her,” Tara said in her girlfriend’s defense. “She wouldn’t pair us up with someone she thought would hurt the BAU. Her reputation’s on the line with the DOJ if this goes sideways.”
Rossi hums in agreement. “There’s little gain in helping us. Be easier to stand on the sidelines.”
“But she’s not. And she was so quick to help us, let alone finding help.” JJ looks at Tara coyly. “Just how tight are you two with this relationship of yours? You must owe her big time.”
Luke grins and leans closer with rapt attention, while Penelope perks up straight on her chair with greedy eyes, both wanting the gossip.
Emily holds up her hands in frustration, needing to bring this back on topic before it unravels into Tara’s sex life. “Guys! Focus. We have a serial killer network out there that’s coordinating their effects to not only commit murder, but to help each other do it better. And if we don’t take Sicarius down before Bailey’s domestic terrorist unit does, the BAU’s disbanded.”
Her direct and gravelly tone silenced the group. She was relieved when they had the decency to look ashamed as the weight of her words brought a reality check.
Rossi agrees with Prentiss and looks expectant. “What’s the plan?”
“Whitlock will be working with me.” She checks her watch. “And she’ll be here soon.” As Emily looks back up, she gently shakes her head to slide the loose hair off her shoulder and catches Bailey walking into the bullpen.
Just fucking great…
“Rossi, I need you to coordinate with Garcia informing local law enforcement to retrieve these foot lockers quietly. I don’t want the network getting a hint of our operations for as long as possible.”
Thankfully Penelope’s quick work in deciphering the anonymous information sent to her was able to determine where all the foot lockers were hidden. It was time to collect.
“Yes, Ma’am.” Penelope salutes which makes Prentiss sigh.
“Luke and JJ, you’ll head to one of the sites and look for anything that might gives a better understanding of who we’re looking for. Rossi, you get to choose which one.”
“Understood.”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” her eyes lock with Bailey’s, who finally found where his section chief was hiding out and looks livid. “I see our deputy director wants to speak with me.”
Luke winces as he dares to see what mood Bailey was in, “Have fun.”
JJ and Tara offer up sad waves while Penelope puts on a sickening smile with two thumbs up. Dave was kind enough to say nothing, but that smirk of his said it all.
Emily leaves the team, hearing them strategizing before the door closes and strides confidently up to her boss, feigning ignorance. “Deputy Director Bailey. What can I help you with?”
“I’ve been informed by the Attorney General that you’ve brought on a consultant.” His eyes were so belittling that Prentiss wishes she could punch him.
“That’s correct.”
“And you didn’t think to inform me of this decision?”
“Things had to move fast. Wilson spoke to Davis on my behalf, presented a reasonable case for Whitlock signing on –“
“You can drop the act, Prentiss. I’ve already seen the paperwork from the CIA’s office regarding the stipend.”
The corners of her mouth turn downward, waiting for him to continue. His expectant look made her realize he was waiting for her to explain herself. She unfolds her fingers from where they rest in front of her to gesture vaguely. “And?”
He took a step back and blinks with confusion. Bailey wasn’t ready for that response. “This should have gone through me first. Wilson was way out of line going right to Davis.”
“I’m confused Deputy Director.” Emily leans closer and lowers her voice. “The decision for Whitlock to use her stipend like this was her call. I approved it. As did the CIA. The only issue was making it legal on paper. The AG figured out a way and Wilson wrote it up. How would telling you sooner change the process?”
She pauses for dramatic effect. “Unless…”
Emily squints her eyes and shakes her head condescendingly. “… unless you’d put a stop to the process, it never reaching Davis’s desk in the first place.”
Bailey’s eyes waver from the intensity of Emily’s brown ones and swallows hard at being read so easily. But what did he expect from a high ranking profiler?
Okay, fuck it. Catching him off guard like this is actually nice.
Not that she’d admit that to you.
“I know it’ll take a few days for the BAU’s budget to reflect this, but please make sure that there’s enough money set aside to expedite the forensics on the bodies. We have a lot of people needing closure.” With a sure smile, she brushes past the still silent Bailey.
But then she stops and turns around with a confident swagger. “And if I’m not mistaken, there’s enough money left over to authorize the use of our jet again.”
Without waiting for Bailey’s response, she turns on her heels and heads straight for the elevators. She could feel the animosity radiating from him but there was nothing Bailey could do about it. The deal was done.
And now it was time to make good on the other part of the deal. Meeting up with you.
After your goodbye with Brian, you drove to a bakeshop on the way to Quantico to pick up a box of mixed donuts and macarons to feed your new teammates. And use as a possible bribe for Prentiss to maybe tolerate your presence just a teeny bit.
You flash your new FBI badge at the check-in desk, and your information was immediately verified in the system. Next you have your Glock checked as you passed through security, the officer confirming your credentials in carrying. You slip the gun back in your hip holster while balancing the box of goodies with your non-dominant hand and start walking down the hall to the elevators.
You offer a hello and polite nod in return when other personnel acknowledge you. Many didn’t even notice you were there, too busy with their heads down looking at their phones or chattering away endlessly on projects that could be talked about freely in this area.
It was starting to feel real and overwhelming being in a new area that knew nothing about you. Yeah, most of the CIA weren’t entirely aware of you and what you did but Langley was home. Familiar. Comforting. Hell, it was your actual home. Every time you were in between work and stateside your living space was a safehouse. All your personal effects were locked up in storage as you never stayed long enough to unpack. The SUV you drove wasn’t even yours. It was on loan from the CIA.
Your steps slow as thoughts begin to spiral: Should you get a place? If so, how long would the lease need to be for? You’re signed on for six months, but that is on a contingent basis in case the BAU needs you longer or when you catch Sicarius.
Sure Prentiss’ll be happy to kick me to the curb then … you muse. You wonder if she can tolerate you more than the few hours you’ve had the pleasure of conversing.
So, do you get a six month lease? Furnished or unfurnished unit? Stay at the sterile safehouse? What if the group wants to know you? See your place? Do things outside of work? Be … social. You’re good in the short term with a performance of being the you the government has taught you to be, but anything more than that has been reserved for Brian and the other trainees that were siblings to you. Even Rebecca didn’t know the real you; just a small scratch under the surface of the carefully constructed control to keep yourself buried.
Fuck. Get it together. This is just day one. Pay homage to the team with goodies and see what Prentiss wants you working on. Just be the amazing smartass agent that everyone knows you are. One step at a time.
At some point during your runaway thoughts, you pressed the button for the elevator. Your curious eyes kept getting a lay of the area while waiting – emergency exits, conference rooms for visitors that didn’t have clearance to go up any higher, security cameras, armed guards, who was coming and going.
Then the elevator chimes that it arrives. You face forward as the doors open and as fates would have it, there was Section Chief Emily Prentiss, who was just as shocked as you were that you ran into each other like this.
“Hey! Fancy meeting you here.” You flash a cheeky smile, finding this funny.
“Uh, yeah.’ Emily recovers quickly and holds the door open for you, so it doesn’t close. She looks you up and down, stopping briefly at the box you held before meeting your eyes without cracking a smile. “I was coming down to meet you. You got through security quick.”
“Thanks.” You take a moment to sweep her features and admit to yourself that the section chief cuts a flattering look in a black blouse and slacks. She’s elegantly professional.
You step inside to join her and hit number six for your floor. As you were going over what to say to break the deafening silence between you, you were surprised that Prentiss spoke up first.
“Trying to make nice with bringing food?” she questions.
You chuckle. “Damn. Totally called out.”
“It’s a safe go to.”
“Not necessarily.” Your eyes shift to look at Prentiss. “Je ne dirais pas que les macarons jouent la sécurité.”
Emily turns her head, brow raising at the response.
You turn to meet her head on. “Quoi? Je pensais que tu parlais français.”
Your new boss took time to smooth out her features while coming to a decision on how to answer. “Je fais. Mais pourquoi es-tu?”
At that, you smile as the doors to the sixth floor open. “Parce que je ne suis pas la seule à faire ses devoirs sur les personnes avec qui elle travaille.”
With a wink, you exit leaving Prentiss behind to digest the knowledge that you were well aware that the BAU had tried to dig up information on you.
Yeah, one step at a time …
I don't speak French so here is Google translate for you!
“I wouldn’t say macarons are playing it safe.”
“What? I thought you spoke French.”
“I do. But why are you?”
“Because I’m not the only one who does their homework on the people she’s working with.”
Chapter 4
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mya-valentine · 2 months ago
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Headcanon: Yuji Itadori Dating Megumi's Twin Sister
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Megumi is naturally protective of his twin sister, so when he first finds out that Itadori is interested in her, he’s skeptical. It’s not that he dislikes Itadori, but he worries about his sister getting involved in the chaos surrounding jujutsu sorcery. He gives Yuji a quiet but intense talk, letting him know that if he hurts her, there will be consequences.
While Megumi is more reserved, his sister has a more outgoing personality—something that immediately draws Yuji to her. She’s the kind of person who can lighten the mood, much like Yuji himself, and they both appreciate that about each other. She can be sarcastic, poking fun at Megumi in ways only a sibling could, which Itadori finds hilarious.
One of the things that bond Yuji and Megumi’s sister is their shared love for food. They often have food outings, trying new places together, and Yuji can’t help but admire how enthusiastic she is about ramen or weird snack combinations. It becomes their thing, with Yuji often texting her with, “I found a new place we HAVE to try!”
Gojo loves to tease Yuji about dating Megumi’s sister, especially in front of Megumi. He’ll make exaggerated comments like, “Ah, young love!” or “Megumi, how does it feel to have your best friend date your sister?” which leaves Megumi irritated and Yuji embarrassed. Gojo also tries to give Yuji playful but terrible dating advice, which Yuji wisely ignores.
Yuji and Megumi’s sister have a playful relationship, constantly challenging each other in small ways, whether it's sparring or seeing who can run faster. Their dynamic is full of laughter and banter, which balances out the seriousness of their world. Yuji loves that she can keep up with him, both physically and in her sharp comebacks.
Since Megumi's sister is a jujutsu sorcerer too, she often trains with both Yuji and her brother. This leads to lighthearted competition, with Yuji always trying to impress her while Megumi stands on the side, unimpressed but secretly glad his sister has someone strong watching out for her in battle.
Even though Yuji knows she’s strong, he’s still extremely protective when they’re on missions together. He’ll instinctively shield her in dangerous situations, sometimes to her annoyance because she’s capable of holding her own. However, she appreciates his concern, knowing it comes from a genuine place of care.
Over time, Megumi warms up to the idea of his sister dating Yuji. He sees how happy she is with him and that Yuji genuinely respects and cherishes her. Though he doesn’t say much about it, his approval comes through in small ways—like helping Yuji plan a surprise for her or not scowling whenever they’re together.
Being with Megumi’s sister brings out an even softer, more vulnerable side of Yuji. He’s open with her about his fears and uncertainties, especially about Sukuna, and she helps him feel grounded. Their relationship becomes a safe space for Yuji to relax, away from the stress of their duties.
Nobara finds the whole situation hilarious and will often tease Yuji and Megumi’s sister during their outings. Sometimes they all end up hanging out together, and there’s a fun dynamic—Nobara and Megumi’s sister bonding over shared interests, while Yuji and Megumi exchange exasperated looks when the girls gang up on them.
Megumi’s sister loves teasing her brother about how awkward he can be, especially compared to Itadori’s easygoing nature. She’ll joke about how “it’s a miracle someone as serious as you is related to me,” which always gets a chuckle out of Yuji, though Megumi doesn’t find it as amusing.
When the relationship first starts, Yuji is unsure how to approach telling Megumi. He tries to keep things quiet, but inevitably, Nobara catches on and teases him until he admits it. When Megumi finally finds out, he’s annoyed he wasn’t told sooner, but he forgives them quickly, not wanting to make things awkward.
Together, Yuji and Megumi’s sister form a solid partnership both in and out of battle. They push each other to be better sorcerers, but they also give each other the emotional support they need to navigate the challenges of their dangerous world. Yuji feels lucky to have someone so strong and understanding by his side.
This relationship would bring a lot of warmth and light to Itadori's life, giving him a sense of normalcy and connection in an otherwise intense world.
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Masterlist
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