#SHIT I FORGOT THE SCARS ON HER FACE.

[fated-normal-767]

World’s most normal teenager I think. Got the skill set as well, happy with the final definition.

[rocketbirdie]

deranged picnic

[stevieschrodinger]

Everything is going slowly foggy. The fear is fading. Eddie's vaguely aware that it's probably because he's dying. What was terrifying a couple of minutes ago, is only vaguely of interest now. An ephemeral pressure on the back of his brain. Present, yet easy to ignore.

All he can taste is his own blood, but it's not so bad. At least he can tell Dustin how much he loves him. And Steve's there. Steve Harrington. Who knew he would turn out to be such a great guy? So, yeah. It all feels alright.

Eddie feels sleepy, vaguely aware that he's, actually, probably dying.

He closes his eyes.

There's a strange sense of vertigo, strange enough that Eddie notices he's standing up before he notices that someone's kissing him. It's a soft press of lips. It's wonderful.

Eddie blinks his eyes open, and from an inch away, he's looking at Steve Harrington.

He's standing in a kitchen. it's nice. Eddie's clean; he's wearing sweats and a tee. Barefoot. The kitchen smells like coffee, and sun is shining in through the window.

Somewhere in the house, a child sequels; Eddie startles. "Steve?" He asks, carefully. "I mean...not that it isn't-"

The child comes barreling into the room. It's a little girl. She's wearing the smallest Dio shirt Eddie's ever seen. She throws herself at Eddie's legs, screaming "Papa!"

Eddie has no idea what his face is doing as he looks down at this little girl, but Steve is taking his hand, tugging it, Eddie looks up, "it happened again, didn't it? You forgot again?"

"I...what?"

Steve scoops up the little girl, throwing her over his shoulder, she squeals again, laughing like this is the best thing ever, "come on pumpkin patch, Papa's not feeling so hot today and auntie Robin's going to be here in two whole minutes."

He looks back to Eddie, mouthing 'just wait, okay?'

Eddie, at a loss, just nods.

He creeps to the doorway, watching, fascinated, as Steve Harrington fixes the little girls hair into pig tails. Helps her get her socks straight. Helps her tie the laces on her sneakers. Gets her back pack on her, "eat your carrot sticks today, okay Ronnie?"

'Ronnie,' Eddie mouths to himself.

Watches as Steve puts her little hand into Robin's, standing on the front porch. Robin looks different. Older. She's smartly dressed.

Steve whispers something to her, and she looks at Eddie. Smiles a sad smile. They leave.

Steve stands there for a moment, waves them off, then closes the door. He seems to steal himself, and then he turns and comes back to Eddie, "I have to go to work, but, come on, let me show you something."

Eddie follows Steve into an office, there's shit everywhere, "I don't come in here often, your mess drives me fucking batshit," Steve digs into a desk drawer, brings out a notebook. "I have no idea what's in here, I've never read it. Something about...what happened. You did die. You were oxygen deprived long enough to cause a brain injury, so sometimes you...forget everything. After the second time it happened, you started writing letters to yourself. So, yeah...you call it your instruction manual, I get it for you when this happens."

It takes Eddie what feels like a really fucking long time to process this, and he can't help but notice that Steve's eyes are wet, Eddie feels crushingly guilty about it.

"Okay so what do I...do?"

Steve shrugs, "read it, I guess. You add to it whenever anything important happens...Eddie...just, the bats, they did a number on you...when you, when you look at the scars, the first time, just, brace yourself, okay and...don't forget that I love you, no matter what, I love you."

And Steve just...leaves the house. Leaves Eddie in this absolute disaster of an office. Leaves him holding a notebook that's ratty and untidy and feels like it's bursting at the seams.

Eddie reads.

So, I'm going to try and keep this simple, but I'm you, from the past, and our dumb ass has fucking brain damage...

You're not going to fucking believe this...we bagged Steve Harrington...

Hold on to your hat big boy, but we got fucking published! And if you're reading this, then you are in for a treat, because it means you get to read our genius for the first time all over again...

Okay, so this one was a bad one, we initially, didn't react so well, so, here's what I was worried about, and I'll talk you through it...

So, I need you to not fuck this up for us, okay? So, this is the Steve Harrington play book. The man is romantic, buy flowers, do nice shit. I cannot stress this enough - just pick up your crap man, he hates it when the place is messy. Now, we have to get it right so here's everything I know, I'll start at the top and work down. He loves having his hair played with, and tugged, but not too hard, gentle but firm, there's a sweet spot. The neck, the whole thing is an erogenous zone, I really can't downplay the importance of the neck...

We bought a fucking house! Look at it! Just look at it! And Eddie does, because there's a Polaroid stuck to the page.

So, this might sound dumb, and I probably should have written to you sooner, but...Steve jizzed in a cup for Robs, and Nancy turkey basted it, you know. Anyway, the point is...Rob's pregnant. With our baby. And then me and Nance got drunk, like, to celebrate, and she got all sad that her and Robin weren't having a baby, stay with me, I know this is mad as shit, but Nancy wanted our kid and their kid to grow up together....

Look, I don't know if it's the stress of like, imminent fatherhood, but we've been forgetting a lot lately, so, here's the plan for when Rob's in labor, and everything you've talked to Steve about when it comes to being the stay at home parent, okay...

The next page is just a Polaroid, a little scrunched up face. A little pink potato swaddled in blankets, and underneath it says 'Ronnie Jamie Harrington'...

And the next page, another Polaroid, another scrunched up face, another little pink potato swaddled in blankets, and underneath it says 'Stephanie Edwina Wheeler'...

Steve comes home. He looks exhausted. Like, drained. And, worried and scared and pale and lots of other things Eddie can't even begin to imagine. Eddie holds his arms out and Steve practically throws himself into them, "how long does it take, for me to get back to normal?"

Steve shrugs, "it's different every time, but it's a good sign you're still here, sometimes you run. Those times are the worst ones."

Six weeks later, Eddie writes to himself, "do not, under any circumstances, run away..."

Eddie thinks he's seeing things. Thinks maybe he's going senile. But he hasn't forgotten for...well, it's been years now. At least seven or eight. And yeah, Ronnie might be about to finish high school and Steve might be stressed to fuck over her college applications, but...Eddie's glad. He's glad she's spreading her wings. He's glad they managed to produce a stand up human being.

He's really glad her and Steph are trying for the same colleges, they're always going to have each other.

But yea...he's worried his mind is kind of...slipping. Hasn't told Steve. Doesn't want to worry him. They're both sprouting a few gray hairs, no need to add to those.

But sometimes. Sometimes when Eddie looks out of the window, he thinks, for a moment, that the sky is dark and...it looks like snow?

And sometimes, Eddie catches himself in the mirror, and he's sure he's dirty. A mess. Covered in blood but...no. He walks back a step, checks again. Everything is fine.

Sometimes he's sees movement out of the corner of his eye.

Sometimes, in the beat of the music or the rumble of the car engine, he swears he hears things. Sometimes a voice. Sometimes it sounds like they're yelling.

Sometimes it sounds like Steve.

And once, he blinked awake, Steve bringing him a coffee. But it wasn't Steve, for the time between startled, half asleep blinks, it was Vecna.

It gets worse.

Something isn't right. The house is empty, and it shouldn't be.

He can hear Steve, but he can't find him. And that's silly because the house isn't that big. He searches and searches, growing more frantic. He calls back to Steve, but Steve...doesn't seem to hear him.

There's something dim about the light, but the light has always been that way, hasn't it? Something...dusty, in the air. Eddie feels like he's dreaming. He has to be dreaming; there's a crack in the living room wall. A crack that spreads and lengthens until the whole house is crumbling and Eddie can see clearly now that the sky here flashes red.

That it's always been flashing red.

How did he not see before? The dust on every surface? The pages of his notebook are blank. Eddie knows. He's always known.

Steve.

Steve is here. He's hanging from Eddie's fist, bruised and bloodied and begging Eddie. Begging Eddie to stop this, to hear him, to see him. It's Steve.

It's Eddie's Steve.

Next to him, Vecna says, "finish it."

Eddie has something in his hand, the hilt of something he's sure of, long and sharp and dependable.

Eddie doesn't think, he just moves.

He drops Steve.

He doesn't need to look. Eddie turns, and he swings.

Part Two

[wtfsteveharrington]

love love love your writing, could you do something with luca? maybe reader gets hurt in the kitchen and he has to help her

a/n: thank you so much :’) i went a different kitchen than you meant probably but i hope u like <33

warning!! contains non-graphic mentions of accidental cuts, blood, and a physical injury.

The apartment is peaceful. Candles lit, soft music playing from a playlist you both curate, and it was pretty enough outside to leave the windows cracked open for a breeze.

You’re turning around with a stack of t-shirt’s in your arms, only half paying attention when you feel yourself bump into something that promptly shatters to the ground and disrupts the peaceful environment.

“Shit!” You both echo at the same time from being startled.

Luca’s wrapping a towel around his hand, leaving everything in the kitchen behind as he hunts you down. “Darling? What happened? Are you alright?” He took just enough time to realize that the knife had gotten him when he jumped, acknowledged he was alright, and quickly went to check on you. You’d always come on the top of his priority list.

You’re standing in a pile of glass, a deep set frown on your lips as you look around at mess made by a broken vase. “I’m fine, I’m fine. I was trying to put away our laundry and forgot I moved the vase to the edge of the dresser earlier when we were cleaning. Just caught the corner and it fell.”

Looking up at him with a little pout, “I’m sor-“

You’ve honed in on his towel wrapped hand, the hint of blood soaking through the thin material.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely fucked my hand.” He gives you some sort of ‘What can you do’ look while shrugging his shoulders. Luca has had his fair share of kitchen incidents and was much more accustom to injuries. It was deep enough to need stitches, just needed to be rinsed and bandaged.

You, however? Very much not used to seeing your boyfriend like this.

A gasp falls from your lips as you rush over to grab his wrist, taking a peek under the towel and wincing. “Luca!” He doesn’t have time to respond before you’re dragging him back into the kitchen to get him taken care of.

You’re standing shoulder to shoulder in front of the sink, trying to fight the urge to panic at the sight of him injured due to a mistake you made. He can see the way your face is all twisted up with concern and he hates it.

“M’alright… Done much worse to myself before. Won’t even leave a scar.” A scar? You frown more as you make sure the cut is clean and step back to go fish out the first aid kit from the bathroom.

“Stay put, please.”

Luca, a man, stands there as he’s told but does admire the sway of your ass as you barrel away. He then gets to admire the swell of your cleavage under your top and - “Shit!” He hissed out as you’re grabbing his hand again to apply a bit of ointment.

“Shoulda paid less attention to my boobs and you would have seen this coming.” You tease while trying so hard to keep the mood as light as you can muster. There was still a course of guilt running through your veins as you continue patching him up.

“I truly am fine, you know? Comes with the job territory. Won’t be the last time I get cut.” He leans in to press a tender kiss to your head and you gravitate towards the touch. You know it’s not a life or death situation but between being embarrassed over both breaking the vase and indirectly injuring Luca you were a little solemn to say the least.

“I know, just hate I caused this.” The bandaid is smoothed over his skin and you give it another once over before bringing it to your lips, kissing over the bandaid. Luca allows you to continue fretting over the injury for a moment until he’s moving his hand to cup your jaw and make look up at him.

“It was an accident, no?” You both nod. “Exactly… I’m fine, you’re fine, we’re both fine. Don’t want you beating yourself up over this.”

You take a deep breath and allow his words to sink in for a moment before nodding once again. Eyes flickering up to his before you lean in and press a tender kiss to his lips. “M’sorry you got hurt…” Another kiss. “Was kinda hot how well you handled it though.”

Luca laughs against your mouth, a wide grin on his features as he feels your anxiety finally start to settle. He steals one more kiss before stepping back to acknowledge the state of the kitchen, giving your waist a squeeze before he goes.

He glances over the cutting board that was the culprit of injury and the food that started to burn while he was tended to. Shrugging his shoulders, turning to smirk at you with pure love and devotion in his eyes.

“Fuck it, let’s go have a date night out instead.”

A hand claps against the flesh of your ass as he passes you to go get changed.

[sunnebeam]

"i was hoping i wouldn't have to resort to this."

A 'PERKS OF BEING A HOUSEHUSBAND' DRABBLE.

pairing: min yoongi x reader

plot: the (mis)adventures of retired gangster min yoongi as he leaves behind the life of the mafia and navigates the way of the househusband.

warnings: the way of the househusband au, marriage au, crack, domesticity, yoongi unintentionally scares people

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: go on tell me d-day!yoongi isn't tatsu I DARE YOU 😤 btw u don't need to watch the way of the househusband before reading this, but i swear u won't regret it if u do lol it's so funny (and it gives great visuals for this fic!). anyways, enjoy!! i'd love to hear ur thoughts so drop by my askbox and let's chat :)

Water drips down his neck as he washes his face. Droplets fall down his tattooed back, tracing the meticulous lines and bold colors that contrast his pale skin.

After rinsing and drying off, he dons on his outfit for the day – a fitted, white, short-sleeved shirt that shows off the intricate tattoos on both his arms and some black sweatpants – and puts on his signature apron – a beige, cotton apron with a drawing of his brown poodle on the front. Said poodle is staring at him from the bathroom door as he takes one last look at the mirror.

An old, bumpy scar runs down his right eye.

"Perfect," he says to himself before heading to the kitchen with his dog following right behind.

Min Yoongi never used to wake up this early. But these days, he wakes up bright and early at six o'clock because he has an important assignment.

"What do you think, Holly? Too big?"

The poodle barks in response, and taking its opinion into consideration, Yoongi adjusts his gimbap slices accordingly, making them a tad bit smaller and just the perfect size for your lunchbox.

"Shit!"

The door to your shared bedroom opens and you run out, already dressed in your corporate attire. You run to the kitchen where your husband is and get a huge glass of water.

"I'm late!" you screech, all while gulping down the whole glass.

"But you still have a few hours," he points out in confusion.

"I forgot I have an early meeting!" you explain in a hurry, putting on your heels before giving your husband a big smooch on the lips and blowing Holly a kiss. "Sorry, Yoonie! I'll see you later!"

And you're out the door.

Yoongi blinks for a few moments before shaking his head. He's chuckling in amusement at your mishap, but if any outsider hears his laughter, it just sounds a bit manic.

"Well, looks like it's just you and me, Holly."

Holly barks.

"Huh? What was that?"

Holly barks.

Yoongi stares at the poodle, then at your Hello Kitty lunchbox he meticulously prepared, then back at the poodle.

"She forgot her lunchbox?"

Holly barks.

"Fuck."

Yoongi snaps into action, securing the lunchbox and putting it inside a Hello Kitty cloth bag before running out the door with his cute apron still on. He mounts his bicycle and speeds towards your office – which, if he was driving a car, would have broken numerous traffic regulations but luckily he isn't a stranger to breaking a law or two.

He's almost to your office. He's halfway there.

But unfortunately, there's a bit of a situation.

"What's your occupation, sir?"

The two police officers stare at him hesitantly after flagging him down for pedalling too fast with his bicycle. They're debating on giving him a ticket but then Yoongi answers.

"Househusband."

They stare at him.

"What?"

Yoongi sighs. At this rate, he won't be able to catch you before you clock in.

"Wait a second," one of the officers says, eyeing the tattoos peeking out from Yoongi's shirt and the big scar on his eye. "Are you..."

They stare at the name on the ticket. Min Yoongi.

"...Agust D?"

No way, the other officer thinks. There's a rumor about an infamous gangster called Agust D who used to slaughter his enemies with his own two hands. This guy can't be him. Right? Right?!

They hold a breath when Yoongi reaches into his pocket.

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to resort to this," he murmurs.

"Wait, sir. There's no need for violence—"

"Here," Yoongi shuts them up by thrusting one of his most precious possessions.

A gift card for discounts at the local grocery store.

The police officers stare at the gift card, bewildered.

"As much as it pains me to let go of this," Yoongi continues, "take it. Now, I have to go."

And he pedals away, leaving behind one gift card and two very confused cops.

COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[levitrophyteacup]

"Are you sure about this?" You take a glance at Levi over your shoulder, your hair forming a curtain that partially cover your face.

He is naked, just as you, and despite his calm expression, his cock is rock solid. You can see that his glans is shining with a copious amount of precum, explaining the wet patch on the front of his pants when he cornered you in your shared bedroom after closing the tea shop.

You have teased him all the afternoon, so it wasn't really unexpected, but it is thrilling to know that he is so ready to indulge in this kind of pleasures.

He's come a long way from the man he was: reluctant to share himself, uncomfortable with the intimacy of it all. You are flattered that he trusts you this much.

He tilted his head to the side, "I can stop if you want" and you detect a hint of teasing in his tone. His fingers slowly descend the curve of your spine and you bent forward, pushing your elbows on the mattress and rising your hips, adjusting you knees to spread you more and offering the view of your pussy.

The cold air hit the damp flesh. You shudder when his fingers keep on going, sliding on the crack of your ass. He stops at your orifice, passing the thumb in a circle on the puckered opening.

You moan "Fuck... I have no patience for that" you turn to him, smirking, "Lower. Don't you love my cunt when it's all wet? You want my ass too? Greedy."

Levi's breath is a little uneven, raving the nude espanse before him with a quiet hunger.

"Maybe I am" he rasps, putting his bad knee on the mattress, leaning on your back. The tip of his cock brushes against the lips of your vulva, and he let his lenght sliding up and down your sensitive lips, coating him in your arousal.

You both groaned.

"Well, I'm pretty close already" you whisper, biting your lips at the erotic sensation "If you fuck my pussy now I'll be so tight... I'll suck your cum so deep inside me that it'll never slide out"

"Shit. Can I?" he growles and you nod. He pushes inside of you in one thrust, and you imediately buck against his hips to set a pace that robs your lungs of air.

He grabs your waist, setting a passionate rhythm made of wet slapping and both of your voice combined in a symphony of groans, moans and cries.

He is gorgeous: his dark hair matted on the forehead, a drop of sweat tracing a path on his scar to his parted lips, devouring you with his eyes and his cock, ramming in you without ceremonies.

You are so close...

You are so caught up in one another that for a moment you don't register the door of your bedroom being slammed open.

"Mister Levi, I heard a scream what's...?!? AAAAHHHHHHH!" Gabi take a step back, covering his eyes behind her palms, bolting away and crashing on Falco, right there with her.

"Gabi! Is something...? Oh, my God!!!" He shrieks, fighting to detangle himself from Gabi and running away with her.

You and Levi stay put, frozen in embarassment and stunned beyond recovery. His cock deflates swiftly and your forehead hit the sheets.

"Fucking hell..."

The frantic voices of the two teens can be heard in the street, along with the low baritone of Reiner's voice. He is concerned, trying to understand the horrified rambling of his cousin.

"I forgot that I invited them for dinner" you admit sheepishly, and Levi slide out of you, as red as a tomato.

"What?"

"Sorry."

"There's no way that I'll sit at the table with them after... this".

Reiner's laugh sounded clear, and Gabi screams "It's not funny, Reiner! I've seen everything!"

"Gabi, please..." groans Falco.

Levi curses, reaching for his trousers, and you flops on the bed, getting ready for the most akward dinner of your life.

"Well, shall we?"

[cranberryjuice-posts]

No good thing last’s and you’re the best..

Parings - Abby Anderson X Fem! Veterinarian reader

Tw- the slur dyke is used (I’m a lesbian I can say it) , uhh some angst idk

Synopsis - Abby loves you.. but she’s to scared of her what people will think of her

Abby laid with you in the small single sized mattress. The snow was softly covering the ground outside, the curtains were pulled over the large window inside her tiny apartment so you had the most privacy that she could offer.

“Uh huh.. so issacs top scar killer just so happened to forget to turn her dog in today right” you playfully chastised Abby for keeping Alice after hours. Her blonde hair was locked around your fingers with your faces close.

“Just because I have that dumb title doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to forget shit” she joked back and lightly kissed you, She squeezed your hip as she did. You moaned as Abby added tongue and giggled knowing where this was going— however your sensual moment was abruptly ended when Abby pushed you off of her and quickly got out of the bed when the front door of the apartment opened, stepping inside Owen, mel, Nora, and manny.

“Speaking of the devil” mel smiled. “Hey Abby”

Abby nodded and looked back at you for a moment. You stood up and fixed your shirt trying to make the scene look like you two were just hanging out.

The group started talking and began setting up to have a movie night together. Manny had found a three pack of the first scream movies on his patrol out. You rolled your eyes as manny started to share theory’s about what the movie would be like with Owen while Alice was snuggling up to Mel and Nora going through everything for the night.

“Shit..” Norah sighed. “I forgot lettuce and tomatoes for the burgers back at the cafeteria” she shook her head. Abby’s face seemed to brighten.

“Get started on the movie yeah, me and y/n will go grab it” she offered. Norah tried to say it was fine but Abby insisted. “Common we’ll be right back” she chuckled and walked out the door with you following behind.

——

The two of you walked in silence for a moment, neither wanting to talk about what the other was thinking.

Abby looked over. “I love you”

“Great” You spoke in a flat unamused Tone.

“Common babe please don’t do this” she grabbed your arm and pulled you aside into a lesser known hallway. You scruntched your nose and pulled away but ultimately failed as Abby was stronger. “I love you y/n I’m serious”

“No Abby.. you love covering your ass” you pulled your arm free and stepped back giving each-other space.. space Abby hated.

“Y/n—“

“I love you to Abby but it fucking hurts that your so ashamed to be gay.. you tell me how you can’t stand to be away from me and if you could you would give me the world but the second someone else is around your to fucking scared to say I’m anything but a friend.. if you want a friend just say that, I don’t have sex with friends” you turned and started to walk down the stairs.. once you two grabbed the extra condiments and returned back to the room you could tell your words had actually hurten Abby.

You knew how she was.. yeah being gay wasn’t really a problem I mean you were in the apocalypse for crying out loud but, you knew if people found out about Abby being a lesbian most would judge her and her reputation would slightly be tarnished.. you looked over from your spot on the floor not really caring about the girl being killed with the garage door on screen.. you could tell there was a haze in her eyes, they only did that when she was deep into thought.

Soon the group was passed out onto the floor mostly drunk tired and high.. you however were still up. And so was Abby.

You moved over and sat by Her. “I didn’t mean it..”

No response.

“Abby” your voice broke but she just grabbed your hand and looked you in the eyes.

“You.. have no idea how much I want to show you off.. I mean shit my girlfriend is the top vet in this place and she’s so insanely smart, patient  because you put up with not only mine but manny and owens bullshit but your also soft and kind” she grabbed your face and leaned into you. “I swear you know my body better than me.. no matter what you do you always make me feel more pleasure than I deserve”

Abby kissed you finally still speaking compliments against your lips. “And don’t get me started on your body.. fuck I have to retrain myself when you wear shit like this” she added as she stuck her hands under your top, Abby rested her hands on your waist and looked you in the eyes.. “I don’t deserve you”

You shook your head. “Abs.. all I want is to love you out in the open and not be thrown off you when someone walks in on us Making out” you chuckled hiding the hurt.

“I promise” she rested her forehead against yours. “I promise you I will give you the love you deserve” she squeezed your waist and kissed your temple. “It’s late and, I’d hate for you to get cold” she joked and pulled you ontop of her kissing you once again before laying back.

A couple days passed..

You were mentally complaining as you moved the heavy bags of dog food around. You carried the sack but before you knew it you lost your balance and fell… but you never hit the ground.

Standing behind you holding you with a sly smile was your favorite blonde. “Careful.. I’d hate for my favorite woman to get hurt” Abby joked and helped you stand up and grabbed the bag with easy.. you were slightly drooling over how Abby looked with her thick jacket and beanie on.

However you snapped out of it and shut the shed after Abby set the food down.. Abby looked around to make sure no one was looking before softly grabbing your waist and pulling you close to her. “You know” she spoke with that same dumb sarcastic smile that you couldn’t help but love. “Manny is gonna be out late tonight, he’s got some chick he’s gonna meet at one of his sex caves in another QZ.. so I was thinking maybe you would i don’t know maybe Wanna have a sleepover”

“We’re not 5 you can ask to hookup”

“Yeah but I wanna be a gentlewoman” she chuckled and kissed you softly.. in the corner of you eye you saw Mona, some girl in the WLF who always seemed to have a grudge out on you. You thought nothing of it, but that soon turned and bit you in the ass.

About a week later a small announcement had been made a out a winter dance. It was rare for Issac to allow you all to have a group party but no one complained when he did.

You showed up wearing something simple, just a pair of flared jeans a tanktop that showed off your figure and a nice flannel.. you could feel Abby’s eyes on you but you knew deep down she wouldn’t try to show you Any affection.. not with the crowd around.

—

By this point you were drunk and dancing with manny. “So you an abby? is there something” he questioned while spinning you but you just rolled your eyes.

“As if Abby” You paused showing some hesitation. “Abby isn’t gay she’s not into women”

“Uh huh”

“I’m serious” you chuckled and lightly hit him.

Manny laughed and shook his head. “All I’m saying is that abby looks at you like she wants to rip your clothes off.”

Before you could respond you heart a loud screeching noise, thanks to Mona grabbing the microphone from the man who was singing with a guitar.

Everyone looked over confused with some mumbling coming from a few people.

“Hello everyone” Mona spoke in a salty tone. You rolled your eyes and leaned onto manny. “As you all know Issac so graciously allowed us to have a party but what’s a party without some drama yeah” she led the crowd on and got some cheers.

“Abigail Anderson” she chided and your stomach dropped. You knew exactly where this was going. “Our favorite solider has been fucking around with Y/n the best veterinarian we have to offer” she chuckled sarcastically, everyone looked over and you could feel the harsh stares.. you knew no one would care but some of the older men and women seemed to really really disapprove.

Abby chuckled and gave a sarcastic response. “What?”

“You heard me Abby is a dyke” Mona continued. “Y/n’s her girlfriend”

You looked back at abby.. praying.. hoping she would tell them all the truth but you knew she wouldn’t. Abby just shook her head and laughed. “As if. Y/n’s great n all but I’m not gay trust me, we just happen to be good friends that’s all”

Some people scoffed and told mona to get off the stage. Abby looked over and started to walk towards you. You let go of manny however and walked out the cafeteria avoiding Abby all together.

——

An hour passed. You sat in your apartment crying when you heard a rhymthic nock one you knew was Abby. At first you didn’t want to open the door.

“Y/n let me in please..”

That’s all it took for your to cave. You opened the door and saw Abby standing out front holding a few flowers she must of stolen from the garden. “Hey pretty girl” she smiled softly and leaned forward but was pushed away by you.

You tried to shut the door but she caught it and slid in.

“We’re done” You finally spoke.

“What..” Abby’s smile fell and she set the flowers down. “Babe—“

“Get out abby.. your not gay remember” you spoke bitterly. Abby sighed and gently grabbed your hips but you pushed her away.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that” she frowned and soon realized how serious this was. “I love you y/n you know th-“

“Stop with this bullshit Abby!” You yelled with tears in your eyes. “Who gives a shit that we’re together! You always do this” your face now filled with hot tears you put a finger on Abby’s chest. “You always say you love me but never once do you actually try to prove it outside of the bedroom.. I said it once I’ll say it again. Get out” you as calmly as you could demanded.

“Y/n—“

“I don’t have sex with friends” that was the final thing you spoke to her before she walked out. You apartment never felt so empty and cold.. but if you’ve gotten use to the infected you knew you could get use to anything.

PART 2 is up!! 😋

Pt 2

[missmarveledsblog]

A kind of sex education part 2 (platonic cas x winchesters x reader)

Summary : after the whole porn ordeal , castiel finds tumblr and the world of fanfiction has him asking more curious questions  which the residents of the bunker are not so happy to answer . 

warnings : mentions of smutty fics , cas being the curious baby in a trench coat we love .

After the whole angel porn ordeal , they were more careful with what cas was watching not wanting  history to repeat itself . Like monitoring a toddler on an iPad. Especially given that y/n wouldn't come out of her room for days not wanting to look any of them bar sam in the eyes .  Dean even limited his teasing when it came to the subject . Today he was luckily out while cas was on laptop , Sam and Y/N were looking over some incoming cases seeing which needed to be handled first .

" interesting this is very interesting " the angel spoke making them look over both slightly relieved not see or hear an explicit image on the laptop. 

" I've been on a interesting site that led me to many other over the last couple of days " he  spoke up .

" what was that buddy" she smiled over. Their joy short lived when he uttered the next few sentences out of his mouth .

" tumblr that led me to all these other sites , did you know there is fanfiction of us like the play we seen except it's classed as what they call smut " he looked up at the two .

" why didn't  I go on the supply run ,  why am I here when he finds this shit " she cursed up at the ceiling .

" could be nothing " sam offered a weak smile .

" did you know most popular is Dean x y/n fiction seems as though you are most shipped although there are some of Dean and sam with you too " he mused .

" but I could be wrong" sam winced taking the laptop off of cas completely .

" how do you find these things " he asked looking through the tabs .

" I'm very pop culture savvy now " cas said proudly . 

" what the hell man why are you reading all these " sam groaned wanting burning his eyes out seeing an explicitly  wrong image of Dean and himself (no to wincest) .  " you are actually popular with them Y/n " sam mused .

" that's after  that stupid ghost hunting  website and chuck " she grumbled  wondering where she was going to start her new life.

" hey there's even some with you and cas " he chuckled. 

" Alaska or maybe Australia would be better it further Away " she mused .

" wow these are extremely detailed " sam continued .

" would you call Dean daddy , the stories seem to think you would " cas asked .

" what the hell did I walk into " the man in question walked into the room .

" my resignation  " she mumbled hiding her head in her arms. 

" destiel  is another popular one " sam chuckled. 

" cas found smutty fanfictions " she looked up to see the clueless expression on Dean's face.

" they suggest that Y/n is a sub and you are a Dom " the angel stated.

" wanna see if they're right sweetheart " Dean winked .

" wanna kill me cause I can't be dealing with this" she countered wondering if she could also legally change her name.

" why are they so descriptive on the parts , have they seen them" cas sat looking between the three .

" the way Dean sleeps around they probably seen his " she reasoned.

" they also suggest you like..." .

" do not even finish that one" she growled .

"so many kinks cas did you google all these" sam asked eyes widening at the search history. 

" i was looking at chucks book and comments said to check out the tumblr versions " he said looking confused to what he did wrong. " they forgot to add that birthmark just below your tits " he added matter of factly .

" when did you see her ... what he got to see i didn't" dean turned to Y/n , who honestly rather be stuck with Crowley for eternity than this .

" he walked in while i was getting dressed and it not a birthmark it's a scar from a battle with an old favourite bra "she could feel her cheeks redder than they've been so far . "i'm going to my room to pack for my new life in australia" she stormed out her room .

" she's kidding right?" dean asked looking to the mean .

" you should dom her  and make her stay , they said she responds to good girl" cas explained .

" i wonder if she would let me come with her " sam mused walking out after her.  

another awkward dinner bobby was almost afraid to ask. Although dean was smiling more than the others.

" cas read fanfiction , pornographic fan fiction " dean explained .

" i've also read some theories too, like bobby is Y/N Dad and not her uncle" cas smiled making bobby choke on his water.

"  their theories cas they're not right ... right? " she laughed but stopped when she notice bobby expression or how he would barel look at her.

" i mean it's a possibility " he mused truthfully making her jaw drop

" great more daddy issue not like the place is drowning in them with these two " she pinched the bridge of her nose and point at sam and dean.

" so the theories of dean being her soulmate are true " cas asked.

" probably " dean shrugged winking at her .

" why did i ever come here, sam wanna move to australia with me " she ignored the other three men .

" look me and your mom had a brief thing , your dad well your dad agreed while he..." . 

" australia sound nice " sam agreed cutting bobby short .

" hey stop denying our love even nerds on internet think we'd be hot together"dean spoke up .

" cas from now on stop the curiosity or so help me i will make you eat the computer  " she  groaned learning too much information for the day .

"we need to do dna test " she turned to bobby .

" you can pick me up at 7 " she turned to dean before walking out leaving the men speechless . 

" i got punished" cas pouted .

" i got a kid  kinda " bobby gulped .

" i got a date " dean smirked .

" and i got a rock ... It's a thing on tiktok ... what cass isn't the only pop culture savvy one around here " sam shrugged .

part three

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt.6

TW: torture, mention of rape

prev part. first part

"I guess we need to talk, Johnny." You looked at him, and the incredible feeling of guilt consumed your stomach. How could you believe a random girl over Johnny?

"Yeah, I guess we need to hen." he said while rubbing the stubbles on his chin. The last week was the most chaotic in his life. He thought he had lost you for good, and when Kyle told him that crazy whore was in your apartment, it was over. That was a line he thought she wouldn't cross. You were a civilian, an innocent civilian who got into this shit because of him. 

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, hen." 

Both of you apologized at the same time, getting a confused look out of each other. "What're you sorry for, Bonnie?"

"I believed her. I believed that you would cheat on me."

"I didn't explain it, did I?"

„No," he told the truth. He didn't deny anything, but you maybe still should have asked yourself if it was the truth. The guilt ate you alive.

"I'm sorry for getting that crazy bitch in your life; did she hurt you?" He took your hand in his, examining if any new bruise or scar was there. 

"Physically no"

"Hen" 

"I love you, Johnny, you know."

"Of course I know; I love you too."

"Do you want to tell me what really happened?"

He nodded and started to explain how he woke up and didn't know what happened, how he felt guilty and hated himself, how John took the fall for everything, how he realized that she raped him, how she accused him of raping her, and how she made him believe no one would ever believe him. How he wanted to tell you everything, and then that slag turned everything around, convincing him that no one would believe him, and finally how Simon believed him and how he opened up. Your heart broke into a million pieces hearing what she did to your poor Johnny.

“You didn't deserve that love.“

„I know I still feel dirty, you know." You knew the feeling all too well, but you didn't know right now what you could do to make it better, so you just took him in your arms, caressing the soft edges of his Mohawk. „You're not dirty, Johnny; her action doesn’t define you." You held Johnny the whole time while he was crying in your arms. ——————————————————————————   This wasn’t the first time, neither for John nor Ghost, but it was never this personal. They had never had as much fun as this time. Ghost already pulled her on a chair, tying her wrists and legs, not giving a fuck about her pleas that it was too tight and hurting her; they were a long time over having any pity for her. 

„We can make it quick or painful, your choice," John spoke, trying to appear as the good cop in this interrogation. His heart wanted to rip her apart in the most inhuman way possible, but first, he needed some information.

„I don't want to die, please. I only meant good." Simon didn't hesitate to slap her right across the face.

„Don't lie.“

„I didn't lie; you would be better off without her.“

„Bad mistake, Ghost doesn’t like when someone talks badly about our girl,“ John huffed, taking a drag on his cigar while sitting on a chair.

„What do you think, boss, should I cut a finger off or break her arm?“ She was panting heavily, the sweat already dripping down her neckline, while she only stared in horror at them. She begged and pleaded, but how many of her victims did it too? How many were even able to remember a thing?

„No, no Ghost we play nice just like her,“ John said with a grin, pulling out three pills from his pocket. Thankfully, the nurses on base didn't have a good opinion of the medic.

Ghost took the pills, putting them in front of her eyes. "Choose. "

„What are these?“ She knew, but her mind didn't want to comprehend what they wanted from her.

„I think the same one you used on me, the other is used for assisted death, and the third one I forgot something with internal bleeding.“ 

„They look the same.“ 

„Choose or I will make you choose." Before the medic argued, Ghost already had all three pills in his hand, pushing them into her mouth.

„I choose this one,“ her eyes watering as she pointed to the left pill. If she were, by any chance, smarter, she would have known she wouldn’t come out alive.

With trembling fingers, she pushed it down her throat. As she felt the numbness starting in her fingers, she couldn’t stop smiling. She made the right choice. 

„They were all the same,“ John replied unapologetically. He didn't want to do this too messy; he only wanted the needed information and then would break her neck; he deserved the right after all. 

„You bastard“ This earned another punch from Simon.

"Let's see how you like being paralyzed. Did you enjoy seeing your victims squirm in fear?“

„Please don't“

„Oh, afraid I'll rape you.“

„Don't worry, Ghost wouldn’t even rape you out of spite.“

„You're so pathetic. Do you need to drug people to get a lay? I bet you're already wet thinking about me touching you. Will only touch my girl.“

„We need to know with how many people you did that stunt?“

„Only you and Johnny, I swear.“

„You swear?“ John stood up, took his cigar, and flicked it close between her thighs, seeing how the heat burned her thighs closer to her core. “It isn't fun to be so helpless? Now tell me the truth.“

She cried and still denied the truth of the sick games she pulled over all these years: „Guess you didn't want the nice way, my turn cap." Ghost grumbled pulling out his favorite knife, a beautiful gift from you. He cherished dearly and he thought you should have had the right to partake in her downfall after all.

The burn of the cigar was long forgotten when Simon slowly craved letter after letter in her skin, taking slow movements as if he were performing in a calligraphy contest. Letter for letter, the red blood dried down on Simon's pale skin, the screams were like music in his ears. He finally had what he wanted: Revenge. He dreamt of it when he saw his father abusing his mother when he met Roba when he heard your past story, and now he finally got it. He could finally protect his loved ones.

„Beautiful, isn’t it, Cap?“

"You could improve your handwriting the letters are slacking a bit.“ 

„You're right, Captain, need to write a few rows more." After the fifth letter, she finally confessed.

„How many“

„I have a list on my phone,“ she cried while Ghost pulled out the phone, finding the list with her guidance. Ghost saw a lot of cruel things in his life, but the visuals on the list made him almost puke: several videos of abused unconscious men and women, their names, and the date all written under them—disgusting. When he saw the picture of Johnny, it was enough for him, and he snapped her neck.

„I'm sorry, Captain.“

„I would have done it if you weren’t faster.“

„What will we do about this?“

„The right thing.“

———————————————————————————— 1 year later

Johnny found peace after consulting a therapist for a year straight, with the support of his beautiful girlfriend and boyfriends. John and Ghost took the list and spoke with all the remaining victims, taking her life insurance money and splitting it amongst the victims. It was nothing that could redeem the situation. Still, they did everything so every one of her victims could afford and participate in the needed therapy, even spreading awareness of male SA survivors in the military with Laswell's help. Your relationship surprisingly grew stronger after the incident, and the bond and trust were only tighter. So here, where you cuddled in a big cuddle pile with your men and Winston, you were finally at peace again.

Taglist: @cod-z , @kaoyamamegami, @postmortem-angel, @jackrabbitem , @sseleniaa , @thigh-o-saur , @littlechomper @ab12305 @darkangel4121

@thychuvaluswife @cutiecusp @blackhawkfanatic @spicyspicyliving @octopiys

A/N: wrote this half asleep so sorry for spelling and grammar mistakes Im not the best at writing torture Im more of an angst girly hope you still enjoyed it.

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A/N 2: Don't read further if you don't want to know anything about the author

So sorry that I posted this Chapter 1 month after the last, my last month was kinda weird. Had a theoretical final exam(passed with an A and an B) , lots of interviews- but hey I got one thing (not my dream thingy but still good), had lots of stress at work and unregular plans like one day night the next early :( So it took a lot of motivation to finally finish this and get back into writing regularly.

[aperrywilliams]

More Than You Expect (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

——————

Author Masterlist

Part 1: More Than You Know

Part 2: More Than You Say

——————

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!exBAU!Reader.

Summary: You have a new life, and Spencer isn't in it. But somehow, you both cross paths again. Will it be just like the wind passing, or will it stick?

Word Count: 7k

TW: ANGST WITH "HOPEFUL" ENDING. Strong language. Mention of sex, illicit acts, jail, typical CM things. A character gets injured (nothing life-threatening). If I forgot something, please let me know.

A/N: The last part of the trilogy "More Than You..." It's done, folks. What started like a one-shot a year ago is complete now. Thank you for all the comments I got about this one, your likes, and your reblogs. Tell me your thoughts about it.

——————

Big changes are usually something people are eager for or afraid of. You are in the second group. You don't like changes. There's no way you stayed in the BAU for more than a decade if it weren't in part for fear of making big changes in your life.

It's not that you don't like to imagine new things or dream of something different, but uncertainty is something you aim to avoid at all costs.

Although your predisposition, when you confessed your feelings to Spencer on a fateful afternoon at the BAU three years ago, you knew a big shift was coming, and there was no turning back. That same night, after he left your apartment, you knew it would be the last time you would see him.

And boy, that one was a hell of a change.

After thirteen years of spending together almost every day, he would no longer be a part of your life.

You handed your resignation letter to Emily the next morning. She tried to convince you to stay, but deep down, Prentiss knew whatever reason she could give you, it wasn't enough. You had already made up your mind.

-----------

From one big city to another. New York welcomed you with open arms. The NY FBI field office did, too.

Although you chose to stay as an FBI agent, your job would be slightly different from the one you had been doing at the BAU when you joined the Organize Crime division.

It was a little intimidating at first. There was a lot of action, certainly a lot of undercover missions, a bunch of criminals, too many drug busts and guns. In summary, a lot of everything. But with time, you learned that OC has so plenty of shit targets as the BAU had. It wasn't rare to come face to face with psychopaths sometimes. And your training as a profiler has come in handy more than once.

After you left DC, you never looked back. You asked Emily to please not tell anyone where you would go. You also write a letter to Garcia, pleading not to track you down, assuring her you would be fine, and if the future would make you cross paths again, so be it, but please do not push it. She replied with a full four-page letter, agreeing with your request but giving you her thoughts about why she felt you were doing wrong.

You appreciated her honestly, but it was done.

No listening to Prentiss's instructions, Spencer tried to reach you regardless. Your phone kept receiving daily calls and texts for months. You didn't reply to any of them.

Until someday, it stopped.

You should have felt relief, and sort of you did, but it was a bittersweet feeling knowing the last string that kept it joined to your old life was cut.

That was the change, and you took it.

Were you doing okay? Did you accept it without consequences? No.

But the new job needed to do its magic. You were so consumed by what you were committed to doing that nothing else mattered.

In the past three years, you have gone undercover so many times, some of them with direct life risk, but you were in one piece. You have been shot and stabbed, though, giving you enough scars to talk about.

Your teammates were and are still very surprised by your versatility and compromise. Your philosophy? Do the job, take another case, work your ass on it, and catch the bad guys.

They even started calling you the Lone Ranger. Why? Although your work involves a task group with more agents, most of the time, your missions are in solitary— weeks or months of not having contact with your team until there is some break in the case.

Once the job is done, you return home and just shut off from the world.

You only socialize after work a little or the bare minimum. Just a few colleagues know things about you besides your prominent former career as a profiler in DC. And certainly, nobody knows the true reason why you moved to New York in the first place.

It's better this way, and you are used to it.

And what about your current love life? While in DC, you didn't have one because you were pining for Spencer; in New York, you don't have one because nothing seems too serious to think of it.

Flings? Of course. But that's all. In some way, you became the same kind of person you criticized in Spencer.

Life works in mysterious ways.

-----------

"The NYPD called us an hour ago asking for one of our most wanted, Vincent Clark," your boss, Agent Lindstrom, says as Monday's morning meeting starts.

It's not something uncommon. Local police have their own OC task force, and you have worked together more than once. The weird thing is that from one moment to the next, they request information from a target, of which, in theory, only your team knows.

"And they want information because-" you enunciate the obvious question.

"They're working on a case involving a string of civilian murders in Manhattan, and for some reason, his name came up," Lindstrom fills.

"Murders? It doesn't sound like Clark's MO," John Miller - a colleague - muses.

"Certainly not. NYPD has to be wrong," you back Miller's observation.

"And why NYPD-OC are investigating civilian murders? Does it have to do with some kind of operation?" Adam Taylor - another teammate - asks.

"Not quite. The local task force is helping 1PP because things have been escalating pretty quickly," Lindstrom explains. "But we here must find out why Clark is a person of interest and verify if they're indeed wrong about him. We don't want them to blow up our intel for no reason. So, Taylor and (Y/L/N), you're assigned to go with NYPD and help to clear this up."

That's how you got a new assignment. And not as undercover; that's a shift.

Taylor is driving this time, and you only look out the window, focusing on nothing in particular.

"You okay?" He asks after some time, resting a hand on your knee. You turn to see him.

"Yeah, why?"

"You are too quiet. Maybe you are mad at me?" Taylor asks tentatively. You raise an eyebrow.

"Why would I?" He clears his throat at your question.

"Well. Because, you know, we haven't talked about the other night."

The other night. Adam is referring to when you came back from your last undercover mission of four months and ended up in his bed at the end of the day.

You tensed at his response. You knew it was a bad idea to sleep with him, but you always thought about it as stress relief, and you thought he understood the same.

"There is nothing to talk about, Adam. We both know what it was." You try to sound cool but soft as well so as not to hurt feelings - if they were there.

"Yeah. Yeah, I know. I just was making sure you were okay with it."

Why do men have the compulsion to mask a question that only cares about them, like uninterested concern about you?

"I am. Don't worry," you assure Adam with a confident smile.

To your ease, the conversation ends there.

You always have kept your distance in this job, with the prerogative of not getting involved with colleagues. What went on with Taylor is still bothering you because it was something that shouldn't have happened in the first place.

-----------

The NYPD quarters welcome you with Captain Novak's handshake. Soon, you learn he wasn't aware the locals had called your boss for intel.

"I'm sorry you had to come here. We are already having the FBI help on this," Novak explains. It's a way to say they don't need you there.

But you have a job to do, so you can't just leave.

"Due to the information we got, I think we can be useful too, Captain," you point, as Taylor backs you up saying something similar.

Novak understands he should use all hands available, so he agrees to have you stay and join the group working on the case.

"Yeah. I think any information would be useful in this case. Come on, I'm going to introduce you to the task group working on this." You and Taylor follow him down a hall to the end, where a large meeting room is.

After opening the door, Novak is ready to make the formal introductions.

"As I told you, an FBI unit is helping us on this. Here is the BAU team. Agent Prentiss, Rossi, Alvez, Jareau, Lewis, and Reid."

Your breath suddenly hitch in your throat at the sight of your old team there. And everyone is looking back at you with a perplexed look as well.

Novak continues talking. "These are Agent (Y/L/N) and Taylor from the OC division." After a second of contemplation, Novak let out a chuckle. "Ha, it's weird. I have to introduce two FBI teams working on the same case with the NYPD."

The guy has a bizarre sense of humor, but he has a sense of humor nonetheless; you have to give him that.

Not that you keep a count, but it has been three years, two months, and twenty days since the last time you saw them. Plus seven hours if you consider the last time you saw Spencer. Since the night you kicked him out of your apartment.

You can't help but make eye contact with him. You both look shocked. And how not to be? Neither of you woke up this morning thinking about seeing each other again.

"Agent (Y/L/N), it's nice to see you again. Good thing OC wants to help here. I can tell you about what we have got so far."

Emily speaks, breaking the silence and setting the rules of the current interaction. She is as surprised as everyone, but it would be time for that later.

It's a welcomed way out of the uncomfortable moment, and you take it.

"Sure. Do you think Agent Taylor could catch up with the intel you got from the current suspect?"

Emily nods. "Of course, Lewis, Reid, can you help agent Taylor on that? Captain Novak, maybe you can give some insight from the locals, too?"

Tara and Novak agree verbally, while Spencer only gives a curt nod.

Spencer makes brief eye contact with you before leaving the room.

Hell, what were the odds of something like this happening? You chose OC in another city precisely because you would hardly end up working on the same case.

Well, fuck the improbability.

When you're left alone with the rest, you don't know whether to ignore the elephant in the room or acknowledge the three years in which none of them have heard from you.

"It's good to see you, bella," Rossi cuts your mind spiral.

"Yeah, hope New York has treated you well," Luke seconds.

"I'm sure OC is happy to have you," JJ adds.

Each one of your former teammates offers you positive words you didn't expect to hear after leaving the way you did.

"Thank you, guys," you mumble gratefully.

Prentiss speaks up before things turn too emotional.

"Okay, okay. We'll have time for that later. Now, we need to crack this case. Tell us (Y/N) what can help us catch this unsub?"

You proceed to explain your concern about whether they are focusing on the wrong suspect. Emily listens to you carefully, and the rest share their impressions. There is no clear conclusion, but you decide to proceed with caution, given Vincent Clark's importance to your team.

"Okay. This is what we are going to do. Luke, you and JJ track Clark's associates first. Discretely, of course. Dave, can you check with Garcia about what these buildings in this list have in common?"

Once they are all gone with a task in hand, you stay alone with Emily.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know they would call you for this case," Prentiss muses. Your mouth goes agape. Why is she apologizing to you?

"Emily, it's okay. It's me who should be sorry for disappearing like that. I - I never contacted you, and you have the right to -" You can't finish your idea because Emily cuts you off.

"I know what are you going to say, and no. We are not mad (Y/N), we understand. You didn't want to be found, and we get that."

You surely appreciate her reassurance, but it doesn't make the guilt go away.

"Spencer does, too?"

Emily furrows her eyebrows. "In a way, I think he does. But he won't tell you that," she confides.

It's better than nothing.

"Is he okay, though?" You ask, believing if his life improved after your departure, you could feel a bit less shitty.

"I can't answer that. You will have to ask him."

Emily's assertiveness strikes again, you think. She's right. It's unfair to talk about Spencer with you when you were adamant about her not speaking with him about you.

You nod. "Fair enough."

For the rest of the day, things are pretty hectic. Police officers and FBI agents are coming and going; new information comes to check, and there are more witnesses to interview. There's so much movement that you haven't been able to stop a second and think about how you feel seeing Spencer after three years.

Emily has been cautious about not assigning you tasks where you might coincide, but you still can see him in the police station, and you've even exchanged furtive glances from time to time.

Taylor catches you doing it one of those times.

"What's wrong?" At the question, you turn to see him.

"Uh? No. Nothing." You're too distracted to notice Adam doesn't believe you.

"So, they are your former team in DC," he remarks, trying to get you talking. Since you arrived at 1PP, you have barely said a word not work-related to Taylor.

"Yeah." It's the best you can give him. You know what Adam is doing, but you won't engage. You have a lot on your plate already.

Your mind starts mulling the idea of talking to Spencer. But why would you do that? You were very clear the last time you spoke about your need to step aside. You were explicit to him about not having the strength to keep supporting him in his free fall. Sure, he promised to change and all that jazz, but you knew staying would only have brought you more pain and disappointment.

Despite all the reasoning, in the back of your brain, there is still the question of whether he really did what he said he would do. It's a morbid thought you have sometimes entertained.

Taylor's hand on your shoulder brings you out of your thoughts. You look at him in a daze. "Novak is calling us," he announces, frowning. Adam knows there's more going on in your head than you let on, and he has a suspicion about what - or rather who - it's about.

-----------

It's late at night, and still, there are no clues solid enough to catch the unsub. You all start to feel the exhaustion but keep going. You haven't seen Spencer, Tara, or Rossi in a few hours, so you think Emily sent them to the hotel for the night.

Taylor told you he needed a break as well. So you're alone in one of the offices, going through folder after folder in case you overlooked something.

You're so focused that you jump when you notice the silhouette of someone standing in the doorway.

It's Spencer.

"Jesus! You scared me," you exclaim with a hand over your chest.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to do that," Spencer apologizes, closing the door behind him. His voice is calm and collected. You inspect him with curious eyes.

"What are you doing here?" You ask, a little harsher than you have liked. Spencer contemplates his response for a couple of seconds.

"Uh, I just wanted to say hi and to know if you were doing okay?"

His voice is unsure, and you look at him in disbelief. It's your confusion that prompts him to continue. "Well, if this had happened months after you left, I would possibly have come to yell and accuse you for leaving like that. Now? Just let's say I wanted to make sure you are doing okay," he clarifies, hands in his pockets.

"Well. I'm doing okay. I hope that satisfies your curiosity." Your response is curt and snarky, and you don't know really why. He hasn't said anything out of the ordinary. Spencer doesn't seem surprised by your tone, though.

"It does. Thank you."

And maybe it's enough for Spencer to turn and leave you alone, but you have the question at the tip of your tongue.

"So you're not mad at me?"

Spencer narrows his eyes. "Uh, I didn't say I'm not mad. I said I'm not here to throw it at you," he clarifies.

For some reason, the answer to your own question ignites an old bitterness you thought was gone.

"Oh, thank you very much," you mock. "A bit bold of you, don't you think?"

Spencer scoffs. "Bold? Bold being mad after you left from one day to the next?"

And there you go. So, Spencer's main problem is that you left in a hurry rather than the reason why you did it.

"What did you expect? Did you think I was going to stay after what happened?" You ask with incredulity, standing from your spot and crossing your arms over your chest.

"Maybe not. But head-ups would have been nice," Spencer matches your sarcasm.

"Yeah, and a goodbye party, too," you deadpan, and Spencer breathes a humorless laugh. Your irony is pushing his buttons the way you know it does, even after all these years. But why are you doing it? You don't really know.

"(Y/N), you literally disappeared! I was - we all were worried. I know you didn't want to talk to me or see me, for that matter. But why leave the BAU like that?"

Spencer looks distraught just at the mention of that fact. You don't interrupt his rant.

"For months, I really thought something bad had happened to you until Emily told me you were actually okay and that I should stop bothering you."

"It took you long enough," you mutter under your breath.

For a long time, you thought your reaction and later decision to leave like that was too much. Maybe it wasn't necessary to drop everything to start over, but you knew if you wanted to leave behind thirteen years of a lot of things, thirteen years of Spencer Reid, you needed to do something big—a major change.

"Yeah. It took me long enough. But don't expect me to be cool about it. It hurt (Y/N). It hurt like hell," Spencer admits.

"Why? Weren't you living the life you wanted?" you ask sardonically, and you see how Spencer's jaw clenches.

"You know I didn't. And I told you back then I realized about that, too," Spencer says, referring to the last time you saw each other—the night you kissed, and he told you he loved you, but you didn't believe him.

"But I get it. I understood why you didn't trust I was telling the truth, and it was fair. But to disappear like that? It was a lot (Y/N)."

In some way, you truly think Spencer's feelings about what happened are reasonable, and even you can understand the grudge he holds against you. But you are not in place to admit that to him. Not when the memory of what happened starts to burn in your brain and heart again.

"Are you done?" Pettiness is the only thing at hand you can use for now.

Spencer sighs. "I don't want you to think I'm admonishing you or whatever you think I'm doing. I really get I did wrong back then, and I hurt you. I'm not dismissing that fact."

"Good! Because here I was thinking you already forgot," you state, raising your voice.

"Jesus, (Y/N). Can you stop that?" Spencer's voice raises, too, to match yours.

You are about to make another remark when the door opens.

"(Y/L/N), we are going to -," Taylor starts to say but is cut off when he sees you with Spencer arguing. You both get startled and turn to see him. "Am I interrupting?" Taylor questions with eyebrows furrow.

"No-"

"Yes-"

You and Spencer reply in unison and make Taylor hesitate. "(Y/N)?" he asks you directly this time, tentatively approaching. He looks worried, and you don't want to make a fuss right now.

"It's okay, Adam. We are discussing something about the case. I'll finish here and join you, okay?" you say, with a soothing hand on his elbow.

"Yeah, okay. Yeah. I'll be with Novak," an unconvinced Taylor says as he retracts from the office, leaving you and Spencer alone again.

When you turn to see Spencer, he has his eyes trained on you, analyzing you. It's a piercing gaze you haven't seen in him in a long time—years, to be exact.

"What?" You ask, trying to break the trance. It seems to work because Spencer clears his throat.

"Nothing. Uh. I should go. Emily must be looking for me," he mumbles before passing you. Almost leaving the office, he turns for a moment.

"I really wanted to know you were okay. I'm sorry for what I said after that."

When the door closes behind him, you are left standing, questioning whether the last ten minutes have actually happened.

-----------

'I'm sorry for what I said after that.'

Why is he sorry? Is it because he didn't mean it? Is it because he didn't want you to know?

It's not that you feel guilty, or maybe you do to some extent. Whatever it is, the thought of Spencer in the past three years has haunted you in many ways and forms.

Yeah, you came to New York to put distance between yourself and him, but what you never saw coming is that sole fact started to weigh on you in many aspects of your life. At first, you thought that due to the bond you both had forged for years, things would not look very good. Sure, it was going to take a lot of work, but you thought time would do its magic.

You tried—you have been trying hard. And even though you still believe it was the right thing to do, why have you yet to make peace with yourself?

Why has happiness been elusive to you? You haven't been able to make real friends; you haven't been able to have a healthy relationship. You've immersed yourself in the job, hoping sooner rather than later, the moment when the pieces finally fit together will come.

Will it ever happen?

When you think about that, your mind wanders to Spencer and whether what you're feeling now is anything like how he felt at the time. Or maybe how he still feels. You don't know. The times you have thought about it always end with the conclusion it's not the same. He had you back then. You don't have anybody.

Seeing him now only has fueled your self-struggle, and although you think it's not fair to take it on him this time, your actions haven't reflected that thought.

After considering your encounter in the precinct office, you concluded the best thing to do is to keep the peace between you both. To be civil and avoid the bickering. You are an adult; you can do that.

What you didn't expect is it hasn't been necessary to put your resolution into practice since you haven't run into Spencer again. The times you've seen him, he's barely made eye contact and immediately gone in the opposite direction from you.

In the meantime, the hours have passed, and you are almost ending your second day on the case, at least with more progress than the day before.

There is a good clue about who the unsub is—Albert Thomas, who has a direct link to Vincent Clark, your target from OC. Indeed, the unsub would be part of Clark's team.

Given that, you and Taylor inform your boss, and he allows you to participate in the takedown only if you can get Clark as well. It would be the conclusion of more than a year of chasing him.

It is a complicated operation, so everyone—officers from the NYPD, the BAU, and the OC division—prepares to catch Thomas and those involved with him.

Upon arriving at the abandoned building where you expect Thomas to be, Emily sends you in pairs to different points. You go with Taylor to cover the back door. Upon entering, you realize it is suspiciously quiet. The lighting is bad, but you don't want to use your flashlight so as not to alert them about your presence. You go first, and Taylor covers you. You arrive at a room where some light sneaks in. You go a little forward and peek, realizing Clark is filling some briefcases with money. He has his back on you, so he doesn't notice your presence.

"FBI! Hands up!" you shout, approaching with your gun pointed at Clark. He turns around but doesn't seem scared. Why? He is not alone.

Unfortunately, that thought comes too late. In a matter of seconds, Thomas pounces on you, throwing you to the floor. Your weapon falls meters from you. You know Taylor is behind you, but you see Clark grab his briefcases and run towards another escape door.

“(Y/N)!” Taylor shouts, and you barely hear him in your fight with Thomas. But you know if he stops to help you, you'll lose Clark.

"Go for Clark!" You shout him back, rolling on the ground after Thomas jabs your face with his fist.

You can't see Taylor, but you know he is hesitant. "Go!" you insist until you hear him running outside. Now, you can focus on Thomas. You manage to asset a blow to his jaw and push him away from you, but as you are kneeling and about to stand, he is on the floor pointing you a gun.

Where did he get that?

He is going to shoot you. You can see it in his eyes. You know the profile, too. He hasn't nothing to lose. You need to think fast. Talking to him won't make a difference. You decide your best chance is launching at him and pray the bullet doesn't hit you badly.

But before you can do so, you hear a gunshot. You close your eyes because you think it's coming from Thomas's gun. When you notice you don't feel any impact and you hear Thomas's screams of pain, you dare to open your eyes.

Spencer is standing with his revolver pointed at him. He was the one who shot, preventing Thomas from shooting you.

You let out a sigh of relief before collapsing to the floor. Although you didn't get shot, you are very beaten up, and the adrenaline rush leaves you without the energy to keep yourself on your feet.

Spencer is fast to catch you before you hit your head. There is commotion around, but you can barely hear anything. Even Thomas's screams sound far away.

"Hey, hey. I've got you," Spencer mumbles, adjusting you in a lying position, holding the back of your head in his hands.

"Thank you," you breathe out.

You won't notice much of what happens next. Paramedics come to check you out, but you only focus on the squeeze of Spencer's hand in yours. It's the only thing that grounds you as your eyes begin to feel progressively heavy. There comes a point where everything goes black, and you lose consciousness.

When you wake up, you are in a hospital bed. You see Adam with his back to you, talking on the phone, possibly to your boss. When he hangs up the call, you get his attention.

"What happened?" Your voice is raspy, so you assume it's been a couple of hours since you got there. Taylor turns and gives you a little smile.

"It's good to see you awake."

Adam tells you he caught Clark, and they can link him not only to Thomas's murders but to all the evidence against him you have been collecting over the last year. Adam also tells you what the doctor said about your condition. Despite the pretty bad blows you got, there is nothing serious, and you will be able to be discharged in a few hours.

"Where is Spencer?" you blurt out, not fully registering what you asked. A slip you quickly try to disguise. "I mean, the BAU. They have Thomas in custody?"

"Yeah. They brought Thomas to check the GWS, and after his discharge, he got into custody. And yeah, Agent Prentiss and Agent Reid came to check on you a few times," Taylor adds to his recounting with a knowing look you prefer to ignore.

Why does learning they came to check on you make your chest feel warm? You blame the medication the doctors surely gave you.

As Taylor said, a few hours later, you are discharged from the hospital with instructions to go home and not back to work in a week.

Your boss gives you the instructions on the phone. He sounds very happy to have Clark in custody and even mentions a promotion for you for such a successful operation.

You should be happy, right? But in all honesty, it doesn't feel like it.

You decide to go home to catch some needed sleep. Maybe sleeping helps to stop overthinking things. But before you can doze off, a ding from your phone grabs your attention.

Emily P: 'I hear you were discharged. We are leaving tomorrow morning. Would you like to celebrate with us and have a drink tonight? For old-time's sake?'

A nostalgic smile forms on your lips. A drink with your old team? Why not? Even if Spencer is going to be there, you already think it's time to make peace with what happened for your own good and mental health.

-----------

The sound of music and laughter makes the bar feel lively and festive. Upon entering, that's the first thing you notice. The second thing you notice is you haven't been to this place for a while, being one of your regulars when you just moved to New York. At the back of the bar, you can see Emily, Luke, JJ, Rossi, Tara, and Spencer talking and laughing, each with their drink of choice. It's good to see them like this, relaxed, enjoying the moment. It brings back very good memories.

"(Y/N)!" Emily calls you, and everyone turns to see you. You wave and stroll where they are.

When you sit down, the first thing they do is ask you how you feel after the beating Thomas gave you. You don't know if it's on purpose or not, but no one is referring to the fact he almost put a bullet in you.

The conversation flows animatedly. While you tell the most notable anecdotes from your missions in OC, they review some of their most important cases from the last three years of the BAU. The ones who talk the most are Emily, Luke, and Rossi. While JJ and Tara rather break jokes and are more affected by alcohol than the rest. Spencer is the quietest of all, but he also participates in the conversation and even asks you questions about the things you say.

If you thought it might be an awkward instance, your former team proves the opposite, even considering the circumstances and reasons why you left the BAU. And although no one refers to it, everyone tacitly knows that it is there.

They don't resent you. They understood you needed to leave, and although you didn't tell them the reasons, they knew. Even Spencer seems comfortable when you have thought he wouldn't.

The conversation comes to a stop when Emily raises her glass, clearing her throat.

"Well. Uh. It's a weird time for this, but I do think things happen for a reason," Emily prephase, looking at everybody. "So, okay. Here we are tonight with an old friend who left the nest a few years ago," Emily looks at you. "To say goodbye to another of our own who is also embarking on new paths," now her eyes settle on Spencer. "I wish you the best in your new life. We'll miss you a lot. To Reid and his last case at the BAU," Emily toasts.

As everyone raises their glasses and cheers, you can't help but look at Spencer with surprised eyes.

Is he really leaving the BAU? After all these years? Did his last case end with him saving you from a bullet?

He gives you a short glance before sipping his beer.

"Come on, we want a speech," Luke demands, and everyone backs him. You're still in shock to say anything.

Spencer's cheeks redden a bit as he clears his throat before speaking.

"When Gideon recruited me for this job, I never imagined all the things I would experience in 17 years working here—the good and bad. I will always fondly remember everyone I met here and had the honor of working with." Spencer's eyes now focus on you.

"On my first day, I was so nervous I thought I was going to mess it up. But in the conference room, I met someone who was also on her first day. Knowing I wasn't the only one helped me not to run away."

Everyone is listening with raptor attention, and you know they are looking at you from the corner of their eyes.

"Do you remember the times we said everyone would leave before us?" He asks you, and now it's your turn to feel your cheeks burn.

"Well, it didn't happen that way. But I guess Emily is right, and things happen for a reason," he muses. "I wish some things could have been different, but we can't change the past," he says before averting your gaze. "I only hope the bond we forged all these years remains, even if we don't see each other that much or at all. I thank you for everything you have done for me, especially at my lowest points. I apologize for the little I gave in return," his gaze returns to you. "Thank you, guys. I'll miss you all."

Everyone clinks glasses, and Spencer's eyes keep on you. Why does the air feel suffocating from one moment to the next? You don't know what to do; the intensity of his gaze is overwhelming, and you think if you don't do something, you will faint right there.

You discretely apologize and get up from your spot. You need air.

Once outside, the cold of the night hits your face, but it is welcomed.

Your heart is still beating fast. Why are you so affected? Is it because Spencer is leaving the BAU? Are the memories he brought back during the toast?

"Are you okay?" A shy voice says behind you. It's Spencer. He followed you outside. You turn to see him with pained eyes, and Spencer worries even more. "What is it? Do any of the bruises hurt?"

Spencer believes your discomfort is physical. How ironic. In the last hours, you had even forgotten the beating you got.

You shake your head. "No, I'm okay. It's not that," you admit, and Spencer doesn't say anything, waiting for you to continue. "Is it true? Are you leaving?" He nods. "Why?"

It's weird how that fact has shaken you—or maybe not that weird. You never pictured Spencer in a place other than the BAU. You even talked about it several times. Like you, Spencer has never liked to make big changes, and you understand him more than anyone because you still feel the same about that.

"It doesn't make sense for me to stay anymore. It has been like that for a while," he shrugs.

"But you love the BAU. You always told me it was your life," you remind him. Spencer lets escape a little chuckle.

"You told me the same thing years ago, and you left nonetheless."

"It wasn't the same," you dismiss, shaking your head.

"I know. But since then, I've been questioning my reasons to stay."

"Why?"

Spencer takes some seconds to contemplate his response.

"Well. Maybe because it should have happened sooner? Honestly, I think the only reason I lasted this long after I was released from prison is because you were there supporting me. And well, after that? It took me months of therapy to realize it and almost two years to make the decision," he confesses. You are quite shocked hearing him talk about prison and therapy. Those things were banned for to mention three years ago.

"Months of therapy?"

Spencer shrugs again. "What can I say? I took your advice. You were right. I needed help to know what I really wanted."

His words bring you back to that night. The last time you saw each other. You wondered for a long time if Spencer got to make sense of what you said to him. Did he understand how hard it was for you to decide to step aside?

"You know? At first, I started it because I had the secret hope you would come back. And I promised you to change. With time and the certainty I had lost you, I began to accept I had to do it for myself."

Spencer's eyes drift to the distance like he can see those moments of realization he had back then.

"Did you?" Your voice is soft, trying not to cut him off from his reminiscence. His gaze comes back to you.

"Yes. And I thank you for it. I know I said a lot of other things at the precinct, but above all, I understood. I still think it's unfair, though."

"Unfair? Why?"

"I pushed you to do something I'm sure you didn't want to. It was me who should have left, not you."

"Spencer-" you start to say, but he cuts you off.

"I know, it is done. But what I said at the toast? I really meant it. I wish some things would have been different. Jeez, there are a lot of things I should have done differently. I wish I hadn't gone to Mexico. I wish I had told you I loved you sooner. I wish I hadn't chickened out when we first kissed."

Spencer's voice trembles a little. He is pouring out a lot of emotions, and you are there trying to digest all of them.

"But you said it yourself. It's done." Your tone isn't accusatory rather than nostalgic. He nods, clearing his throat.

"I know. And I can't go back in time to change it," Spencer acknowledges.

"Why are you leaving, then?" You are not saying it as if it's the wrong thing to do this time; it's more that you need confirmation that he is not running from reality as he did back then.

"Because I need to find my fresh start, as you did it. Well, and because after 17 years, to stay catching serial killers is not healthy, according to my therapist," he pulls a face after his last statement, making you chuckle.

"Am I listening correctly? Will Spencer Reid do what a shrink recommended to him?" you quip.

"What can I say? I'm a new man," Spencer shrugs, and you smile for real.

It's clear to you that he says it jokingly, but there is some truth behind it. It is not that people can go completely against their essence, but time has proven to you that things can change, and it's not necessarily totally good or totally bad. It's just different in shades of gray. And as something different, there is nothing wrong in looking for another change from time to time, even if that throws you out of your comfort zone.

As you both stand there, you realize that things in life are not linear. They are constantly coming and going. It's laugh and cry, condemn and forgive, mess up and amend.

"It's getting cold here," you start, and Spencer nods. "But I know a coffee shop nearby that is open this hour. Would you-? I mean, so we can keep talking. You don't have to, of course. I know you guys have a flight early in the morning." It's tentative; you can't really read him. Are you overstepping? Your overthinking dissolves when you see a grin forming on Spencer's lips.

"I, uh. I'd love to. I mean, to keep talking. Sure."

"Great. Okay. This way," you point, starting to stroll down the sidewalk. You adjust your coat to shield your neck from the cold as Spencer shoves his hands in his own coat pockets, walking beside you.

In a comfortable silence, you both bask in each other company. Is it like it used to be? Not quite. But it's a familiarity you can relish—a newfound understanding of what changes mean between you both.

Enough to lead you to talk for hours, laughing at your own silliness and crying at the painful admissions, causing Spencer to lose his flight the next morning.

Enough to make you leave New York months later and start teaching at the FBI Academy while Spencer gets his tenure at Georgetown.

And who knows? Maybe it's the same understanding that, six months later, will make you pursue a new step after a kiss under the street lights on a cold night in DC.

——————

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 

For those who asked for a part 2 or/and part 3: @gghostwriter @sebastiansstanswhore @evvy96 @pillsbury-doughgirl @singinghamtaro-blog @atlantica-angels @lukesmainpiece @ladyofhellhounds @gubzgirl @shqwqrma @hereforfun-31 @reader1402 @theoraekenslover @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @s1lngwns

[abookloverlmao]

𝑆𝑡𝑢𝑐𝑘. {𝐹𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑊𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑦 𝑥 𝐹!𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟}

Warning: Making out, reader has mommy issues (family also), mention of Umbitch and Reader getting punished by her, neck kissing, swearing, slight enemies to lovers, slight grumpy x sunshine, gryffindor!reader, flirty!Fred, scars, female!reader (I'm sure I forgot some things)

Summary; What will happen when you get stuck with Fred Weasley (the person you despise) in a closet to hide from Umbridge?

I wrote this based on a dream I had, so yeah it's quite shitty but I hope you enjoy it.

7th year; The order of the phoenix

She was always quiet, people saw her as nothing but a grumpy girl who was likely and mostly found in the library or ordering the Gryffindors, she had always an annoyed look on her face and according to most of her classmates her eyes would always sparkle at the sight of Fred Weasley (which she would roll her eyes at), the well-known prankster that always seemed to find a way to make her heart flutter, the guy who got most girls their age around his fingers along with his twin brother, even Remus Lupin noticed it as well. 

They always were bickering in the hallways, common room, and even in class, leading them to be stuck in detention together, where they still found a way to bicker.

but both their heart would start beating so fast at the sight of the other.

Ever since Umbridge became a professor, Y/N started to have more detention, no not because of bickering with Fred but for expressing her opinion or defending herself, leading her to become very annoyed and slightly ruder especially when DADA was her favorite class, now she despises it, she tried to talk to a professor and even Dumbledore, but no one listened.

As soon as Harry walked inside the common room everyone fell silent making her grunt and put down her book cocking her head to the side lazily watching as Seamus and Harry started fighting, "well, nobody was there the night Cedric died." Harry and his anger issues immediately snapped back bitterly, Ron came to the rescue and tried to calm his best friend, she got up.

"Seamus, sit down, now." she ordered the boy eyeing the chair with a glare, he did as told without a second thought, "you believe in his rubbish?" he exclaimed to the girl immediately regretting opening his mouth at the first place, he wanted to hide from her burning eyes.

"I don't believe anything or anyone in this room, so everyone better put those papers away and stop being dramatic, and go to bed, it's not summer anymore." she snapped back her voice getting slightly louder but she wasn't yelling, she hated to say that, she sounded like her mother and it was so disgusting.

Everyone got on their feet muttering 'good nights' while brushing past her in silence, hurriedly going to their beds.

Fred Weasley was the only one left as he walked up standing beside her with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow, "you know, you're hot when you're ordering." he spoke leaning in slightly to whisper against her ear, "I love it." his voice knocks the air out of her lungs as she turned around to look at him, eyes locking ad noses accidentally bumping and his lips ghosted hers.

Her eyes fell to his lips and back up to his beautiful eyes and he did the same thing but with a cocky grin, her cheeks burned under his gaze as they always do, but she wasn't going to burst his ego, "Ugh!" she scoffed in fake disgust while rolling her eyes, walking away from him trying so hard to ignore how hot her body suddenly became along with the room temperature rising.

His burning eyes watching as she left, only made it worse.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Christmas was getting closer and here she is walking down the hallways heading to the library when suddenly Fred Weasley stood in front of her panting heavily, she frowned, "I'm in deep shit." he spoke voice raspy from all the running while looking behind him, she raised her eyebrows at him with crossed arms in front of her chest

"do I even look surprised? nope" she popped the 'p' and watched as he gritted his teeth, jaw clenching and eyes looking behind every second, "hide me. Umbitch is after me because of my prank, and.. she thinks that you are in it too." eyes slightly widening in rage and disbelieve she pointed her finger at him, "are you serious? are you fucking serious?!" Fred tried not to meet her eyes and instead would shoot her a pleading look.

"We don't have much time!" groaning in frustration she grabbed his wrist running down the hallway at a very fast speed not caring about the students groans and huffs, pushing the door open to an empty classroom she death glared at the boy, "stay silent." Fred followed behind her as quietly as he can, towering over her form.

Peeking from the crack she watched, her eyes slightly widening at the sight of Argus Filch, "Fitch is walking down the hall, hide!" she whispered harshly hearing him check the other classrooms, grabbing his hand this time she pulled him towards a closet pushing him in, the closet where they kept the blazers to potions that will probably ruin their clothes.

Fred being the prankster started chuckling, to shut him up she placed her hand on his mouth shooting him an 'I will kill you if you laugh' look, her body pressed against his, her face inches away from his since she was standing on her tiptoes due to him being taller, he smelled so amazing; New card desk, Zonko's joke shop, treacle tart and...broomstick handle?

Whatever, she still loved it.

Taking her hand out from his mouth she looked everywhere but his eyes, Fred kept staring at her watching as she peeked through the crack, backing away she suddenly tripped, closing her eyes tightly waiting for the worse to happen, but nothing.

Fred's hand pressed firmly against her waist making her freeze and his other hand on her mouth as he pulled her towards him, her back pressed against his chest and their legs slightly crossed, goosebumps ran through her body like a wave as her breath became heavier.

both their lips pressing together dangerously, as soon as he put his hand away from her mouth he whispered, "you like it, don't you?" yes, she did and that made her so mad at herself, turned to look at him she watched as he smirked down at her, smug motherfucker. she thought grabbing his wrist with a murderous look

"don't fucking touch me!" she whispered-yelled harshly but wanted to say the complete opposite, the redness in the cheeks and eyes that sparkled said otherwise, "Woah there, darlin', you will get us caught.." he whispered this voice low that made her shrink and loosen her hold slightly.

Gulping, she looked away from him letting go of his wrist, but Fred always loved challenges and this one was perfect, in one swift movement she was pressed against the wood of the closet, both her wrists were held by Fred as he stepped dangerously closer if that's possible.

this time she didn't fight back and looked at him with eyes sparkling even if it was dark and the only light was coming from the crack under the door, "merlin, you are so beautiful yet annoying... I fucking love it, my type." that was all he needed to say before she pressed her lips against his.

Soft and gentle as his hand let go of her wrist to hold her cheek, of all the kisses he had before, she was the best and truest one, her eyes fluttered shut as she kissed him melting as soon as he kissed her back, her head hitting the wood slightly as they kissed.

it was just like they dreamt, soft and sweet.

That was until he decided to deepen it, his tongue pressed against her lips and that was the only thing he needed to do before she opened her mouth to welcome him.

His fingers went from her cheek to her hair making her sigh and melt against his lips, he grinned while rolling a piece of hair between his fingers his lips not leaving hers, she tasted like vanilla and caramel and merlin how it was intoxicating.

Y/N ran her hand through his hair, breath getting heavier by the second that passed but she didn't dare to stop not once, too intoxicated by his lips, but once one of his hands went under her thighs squeezing she gasped, pulling slightly away and wrapping her legs around his waist.

That cocky and proud grin never left his lips as he whispered, "you broke the rule of boys and girls are not permitted within 6 inches of each other." she chuckled her chest going up and down, her lips were numb but she didn't bring herself to care, "I never listened to Umbitch rules anyways." 

She grinned back proudly watching as he gulped it was as if he has a hard time pulling himself together, her lips were like a drug that he wants to get high too forever, she squealed once he slammed his lips against hers pulling him slightly by the scarlet and gold tie.

his hand went down her white blouse and caressed her skin softly making her gasp against his lips, her cheeks flushed as she smiled against his lips driving him insane, "I need you, you make me feel so good." he whispered littering her face with kisses making her chuckle softly.

"you make me feel good, as well-oh~" the feeling of his lips kissing her neck made her whine as she looked up running a hand through his hair and the other slightly scratching the back of his neck making him grunt, a warm and fuzzy feeling tingling in her stomach as she fluttered her eyes shut in pleasure, his lips wandering down her neck and leaving a trail of warm kisses, teeth plucking at the soft skin. 

"Fred.." she whispered feeling him suck on her skin before she could let out a small whine the door to the classroom slammed open and both of them froze, her eyes were wide and Fred's breath hitched still holding her.

Argus looked around not even caring about the closet and let out an annoyed huff, checking behind the chairs, Fred suddenly sucked on her collarbone making her put her hand on her mouth to keep herself from moaning.

Fred watched as she looked down at him watching as he raised his eyebrow at her with a smirk, Argus suddenly stood in front of the closet and both the teenagers stayed in their positions, Fred's lips still on her collarbone and hand caressing her body up and down, her hand was on his hair stroking and pulling slightly making him look up at her with heart eyes.

her legs were still wrapped around his waist as his other went up to lace with hers, the look on her face was filled with pleasure and he swore that he would do anything to see her like that on repeat, she was treasuring every moment, his eyes on hers, his hands on her body, not caring that Umbridge was looking for them, she surrendered to bliss.

Argus walked away not even bothering to check the closet and closed the door behind him, Fred helped her and set her back in front of him, her hair was messy, her lips numb, her eyes sparkling, her tie loose and uniform messy.

The flame of passion burned her whole body as she tried to straighten her outfit to not seem suspicious, Fred helped her, opening the door both of them walked out of their make-out spot, "Okay.." she spoke turning around and looking up at him, "I will get out first so we don't look suspicious.." she muttered smiling up at him.

Fred nodded with a smile, melting at her genuine grin, it was for the first time she ever smiled at him genuinely, he walked up towards her brushing the top of her hair before placing his hand on her cheek, feeling how hot she is against his cold hands, she leaned against his hand lovingly.

he leaned in kissing her lips softly and gently holding her as if she was going to vanish if he let go, she kisses him back standing on her tiptoes, "thank you... for today." she whispered once they parted, her voice soft and not filled with sarcasm, she couldn’t think of a time she’d ever been happier.

"Come, spend Christmas with me, please?" he begged, he knew that she planned to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas like she always do, and her heart throbbed with happiness as she nodded, "I will." he thought he would die of joy at her response, littering her face with kisses once again.

"thank you, love." that was all he needed to say before she pecked his lips and walked out of the classroom, smiling brightly to herself and replaying the moment they both had in the closet.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

That night passed by them pecking each other's lips anytime they walk past each other. Hermione noticed the dark mark on her collarbone of course.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Christmas holidays came and here she finds herself standing just outside the door, she wore a black turtleneck along with light blue jeans, converse, and a brown jacket, let's not forget about the beanie that Remus Lupin handed her as a birthday gift.

knocking, she stood there awkwardly staring at her shoes watching the foot trance she left, it was snowing, and her nose was slightly red from the cold as she stuffed her hand in her pocket for some warmth, a woman with red hair and a kind smile appeared at the door.

"oh hi! you must be Y/N!" she exclaimed watching as she took off her beanie politely with a smile, "yes ma'am." Molly pulled her inside the house who was so beautiful, "oh call me Molly, please! you are so beautiful, I am so happy you came to spend Christmas with us!" Molly was a very kind woman and her calling her beautiful made her so happy, as she took off her jacket.

"thank you so much, that is very kind of you. I hope I'm not bothering you." she replied with a kind smile, Molly heard a lot about the L/N family most of them got sorted into Slytherin and became death eaters but seeing Y/N so kind and a Gryffindor was very surprising.

"oh please my darling, you are more than welcoming with us," Molly replied before calling out for her sons and daughter, Fred was the first to walk down the stairs and immediately kissed her lips, "you came!" he said pulling her towards his embrace, she wrapped her arms around his waist with a smile.

"Yup, I did." Fred pulled away and turned to look at his mother who smiled softly at the couple, "show her around Fred while I get dinner ready, yeah?" her son nodded and walked up the stairs, maybe spending Christmas with the Weasleys is an amazing idea.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Molly loved Y/N, really, she loved her so much that she wanted her son to get married to the H/C-haired girl, she was kind and helped her cook dinner, helped her clean the dishes, set the table, and even bought everyone gifts from London.

Y/N never felt loved by her family and Molly being so kind made her think as to why her mother couldn't do such a thing, "I made you this gift, it's not much but I hope you enjoy it." spoke Molly whole handing the perfectly wrapped gift, Y/N heart melted as she hugged Molly as a thank you.

"thank you so much, it's perfect," it was a beautiful handmade F/C sweater with the first letter of her name in the center, she could feel the tears covering her eyes as she immediately wore the warm sweater without a thought, grabbing Molly's hands in hers she spoke, "thank you so much for being so kind to me." 

Molly pulled the girl into her embrace, Fred had told her about her relationship with her family and Molly was more than happy to have her part of the family.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

This was probably her favorite time ever, a new sweater, a new family, and a boyfriend she loves with her whole heart, what more could she want? this Christmas was full of her dreams and wishes coming true

Laying on the bed beside Fred with their legs tangled she listened to his heart, it was beating so fast every time she would smile or reach for his hand to intertwine her fingers with.

Fred played with her hair taking a strand and twirling it between his fingers, glancing up at him she watched as he brought her hand towards his lips, pressing kisses on every knuckle, her sleeve fell showing the scars of Umbridge's idea of punishment.

They healed but didn't disappear, Fred looked up at her in confusion as to where she got these scars, "Umbitch." was the only thing she said looking everywhere but his eyes, "and you didn't tell me?" he asked, he wasn't mad at her or anything, he was just worried.

"Why should I? me and Harry are her easiest target, I tried to talk to dumbledore but he didn't even bother turning around or listening, me and Harry, both needed his help.." Fred listened quietly, he would always try and make jokes when someone is feeling down.

but the sight of her hurt made his heart pang, the word wasn't 'I must not tell lies' like Harry, it was the word 'Mistake' over and over again, 4 times all over her arm, Fred didn't say a word and instead just kissed each letter on every scar making her eyes water.

she looked up trying to blink the tears away, of all the years she had been in Hogwarts not once did he see her cry, not even when she was in terrible pain, Fred scooted closer towards her before cupping both her cheeks.

She looked at him deep in the eyes trying so hard not to break down at his painful look, "this isn't you... you're never sad. please, laugh, smile, prank me, do anything just.. don't look at me like that, Fred. I am begging you. I hate seeing you like this." she said, Fred Weasley not smiling or cracking a joke is very rare and her seeing him staring at her eyes feeling terrible about not knowing about these scars, made her feel so scared and worried.

he was always an outgoing and goofy but protective person and that was one of the reasons why she loved him, she can give him 100 reasons as to why she fell in love with him.

"You are my family Y/N, we used to fight a lot but trust me those fights always made me smile when I rethink them before going to sleep, and your smile, merlin I hate it when George would tease me whenever I stare at you when you smile to Hermione or Ron, not to mention I was kinda jealous of Ron..." she laughed, her laughter was like music to his ears.

"jealous of your brother?" she asked watching as he nodded with flushed cheeks in embarrassment, she cupped his cheeks and placed a soft kiss on his lips, pulling away she watched as he grinned childishly in her hold, "go to sleep, dork. you're cute but please stop smiling like that." she said about to get up when he suddenly grabbed her wrist pulling her back down.

pinning her to his bed he towered over her form watching as she cocked an eyebrow at him, "told you we will finish what we started." he spoke voice low that made her shiver, "oh yeah?" he nodded and for merlin knows how many time today, he kissed her lips making her hum ad wrap her arms around his neck.

"I hate you."

"oh no, you don't, darling."

"no I don't.." she sighed against his lips.

Best Christmas ever. Whenever she looks at him it's like she just realized what love truly is, she never had a soft spot for someone only the Weasleys, Fred never found a smile so bright until he saw hers, it was like the moon, and Fred swore that he always fell in love with the moon with each glance.

He fell in love with her with each glance.

just like seeing her for the first time.

the way they always seemed to catch each other's eyes even when they were in a crowd, the way he would watch as she put her hair in a messy hairstyle when she was reading, the way she would frown when she doesn't understand something, small details.

They fell in love, maybe hiding with Fred Weasley in a tight closet to run away from Umbridge was not a terrible idea after all, in fact, Y/N was glad that Fred did this prank.

[parkerslatte]

Deals With Our Devils || Chapter Two

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: none.

Part Summary: Y/N arrives in the Night Court and her former family have a lot to say.

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Y/N looked down at the coffee sitting on the table before her, she hadn’t touched it since it had been placed there. It was cold now. No one had said a single word since Rhys insisted on sitting at the dining room table for more comfort than his cramped office. Y/N didn’t attempt to explain herself, she knew that her efforts would be futile as everyone was silently processing everything. 

The gaze fixated on her cup lifted the smallest amount to scan the faces of the people she used to call family– with three new faces thrown in. Two-hundred years had seemed to be all it had taken for Y/N to forget specific details about her family. There was a small scar slicing through Cassian’s eyebrow that Y/N wasn’t sure whether he had it when she was still around or not. That glimmer in Rhys’s eyes that seemed to suggest a certain love that Y/N did not recognise. The specific features of Mor’s face that she loved to put makeup on when they were younger. Y/N even forgot how much she towered over Amren– somehow she remembered her to be a similar height. Seeing her now made Y/N realise how much she had really forgotten over the past two centuries. 

Then there was the matter of Azriel. Despite the rest of her former family and the small details she had forgotten about them– Y/N hadn’t forgotten anything about Azriel. From the colour of his dark hair that seemed brown in direct sunlight to the unique blend of colours in his eyes that made up his hazel. He hadn’t spoken yet but Y/N could still hear his voice clearly in her mind, soft spoken yet still had a small edge to it. Y/N hadn’t forgotten anything about him. 

“So,” Rhys spoke up after a long and painful silence. “This is certainly a surprise.”

Y/N nodded. “I am here on official business.”

“I gathered that,” Rhys replied. “Your Queen had been corresponding with me for several months.”

“She is aiming to build alliances,” Y/N replied. “Vassuryn is a very small kingdom and not very well known. It is vulnerable to attack so Queen Selvina has been gathering allies from all over the continent. This is the first time she has reached out beyond.”

Cassian finally raised his gaze to meet Y/N’s, his eyebrows drawn down in a frown. “I don’t give a shit about alliances. What I want to know is why you left two-hundred years ago.”

“Cass–” Rhys tried to intervene.

“No,” Cassian shook his head. “It’s been two hundred years, Rhys! Surely now it is time for an explanation as to why she has been gone.” Cassian’s burning gaze fixated on Y/N. “You left in the middle of the night with no word, no note, nothing. We searched for you for years. Azriel searched even longer.”

Y/N glanced Azriel’s way but he was staring at the table in front of him, as if he were fascinated by the woodwork. 

The female next to Cassian reached out and touched his arm and he instantly began to calm. The furious expression that had gradually melted onto his features disappeared within an instant– only to be replaced by sadness.

“Y/N, we didn’t know if you were alive or dead,” Cassian admitted. “You were our family. Losing you was hard for all of us.”

The broken look on Cassian’s face made Y/N’s heart drop. She never knew her disappearance had affected her family that much. Mor hastily wiped away a tear and Amren’s silver eyes bore into hers, though deep down through all of the guards she had up, she could tell that Amren cared. 

“I am sorry,” Y/N whispered. “I hadn’t realised my disappearance had affected you all so greatly–”

“Please stop being so formal,” Cassian pleaded. “We are your family.”

“We haven’t been her family for a long time,” Azriel’s soft voice cut through the air. 

Y/N’s head snapped in his direction. His gaze had finally lifted and the only emotion Y/N noticed within them was betrayal. Her eyes stung with tears. 

The female next to Rhys, her arms tattooed with swirls up to her elbows, cleared her throat. “Any arguments that might happen will end here.” She turned to Y/N with a small gentle smile. “Y/N is a guest here and I won’t tolerate arguments from someone trying to do their job, no matter your history.”

Y/N gave the female a grateful nod as she took a deep breath. All pairs of eyes felt like daggers in her heart. “I understand that all of you must despise me for what I did, but you must understand that I haven’t come here for myself, I am here under my Queen’s orders. All I am trying to do is a job for her, don’t let any hostile attitude towards me affect what she is aiming to do.”

The room was silent, the only exception was Mor placing her wine glass down on the table. Y/N’s heartbeat increased and her body felt hot. If Floris had been with her, everything would have been okay, she would have had someone to lean on. But now she was alone in a house where everyone hated her. 

“Will you answer one personal question for us, Y/N?” Rhys asked.

Y/N met his gaze. “Only one.”

“Why did you leave?” 

That was the one question Y/N had prepared for on her journey to the Night Court. As she answered, her voice was almost robotic from how she had rehearsed it over and over again. 

“I was a danger to all of you and the whole of Velaris,” said Y/N. “I needed to get away before I hurt any of you.”

“A danger?” Rhys asked. “How were you a danger?”

“She has powers,” A quiet voice spoke from the end of the table. 

Y/N tore her gaze away from Rhys’s and landed on the third female she hadn’t recognised. She looked startled like she hadn’t meant to let anything slip. 

“What do you mean, Elain?” Rhys questioned. 

The female– Elain, gazed at Y/N, an apologetic expression on her face. Elain opened her mouth to respond but Y/N beat her to it. 

“She is correct,” Y/N replied, once again looking down at the table. “I have powers.”

Cassian chuckled humorously. “We would have known if you had powers.”

Y/N shook her head. “You wouldn’t have. Because I didn’t even know until days before I left.” 

Y/N stood up from her seat and stood at the head of the table. As she brought her left hand up in front of her, the surges of power wrapped around her arm and around her body in thin blue thread. The former family watched in astonishment– all except Azriel, whole face remained neutral. 

“When I left, I couldn’t control it,” Y/N began. “I could feel it bubbling inside of me and it was only a matter of time before it burst. I didn’t want any of you to get hurt in the process so the safest thing I could do was leave.”

“We could have helped you, Y/N,” Rhys said, with an attempt to keep his voice calm but the sadness in his eyes betrayed him. “Why didn’t you come to us?”

“It was all too much,” Y/N said. “I could feel a surge of power threatening to release and I knew that it would be fatal to anyone within my vicinity. When I left, I never expected to survive it until it happened– that burst of power. It didn’t kill me but I felt weak, I could barely move, but I knew that power surge would happen again. It happened three more times until I reached Vassuryn and Queen Selvina took me in. She helped me control my power and master it. I owe my life to her.”

The room was silent once more as Y/N let her power fade away. “I never came back because I expected to die.”

“Why didn’t you come back after?” Mor asked, speaking up for the first time. “We would have all understood.”

“I owed Queen Selvina my life for helping me control my powers,” Y/N replied. “I began working as Prince Floris’s guard at the palace. I made a home for myself there.”

“And abandon the one you had here,” Azriel said, his words cutting Y/N like a knife. 

Y/N tried not to let his words affect her, but as she toyed with the hem of her sleeve, it was evident to everyone that his words had cut her deep. Rhys was the first to speak up. “Y/N, for the next few weeks, we will be happy to host you while you tell us about Vassuryn.”

Azriel’s gaze shot to Rhys, his eyes narrowed at his brother. Rhys simply ignored him. “We can meet tomorrow to go through anything Queen Selvina needs to discuss.” Y/N nodded as everyone began to stand from the table. “Elain will show you to your room.”

Y/N’s gaze met Elain’s and she offered her a small smile, Y/N tried to return it but failed once she noticed that Azriel hadn’t even risen from his chair.

“I will meet you in the hall, Y/N,” Elain said before swiftly exiting the room. 

For the first time in two centuries, Y/N was left alone with Azriel. And for the first time ever, she had no idea what to say to him. As Y/N opened her mouth, Azriel looked up at her. 

“If you are going to apologise, don’t,” Azriel snapped. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“I am not going to apologise for leaving,” Y/N said. “I did the right thing.”

Azriel scoffed. “You did the right thing by leaving your family? By leaving me?” By the time the second question left his mouth, Azriel’s voice was barely a whisper. “I searched for you for fifty years, long after everyone else gave up. I still held onto hope that you were out there.”

Y/N closed her eyes as Azriel rose from his seat, stepping closer to her. His familiar scent, the scent that used to relax her, now made her tense. 

“But you were out there, weren’t you?” Azriel’s voice was low and void of any emotion. “You were happy in a palace while all of us were driven mad thinking you died. Tell me, did you ever think about us in those two hundred years? Did you ever want to come back?”

“Of course I thought of you all,” Y/N said, her eyes meeting Azriel’s. “I missed you all so much.”

“But not enough for you to come back or even send word that you were okay,” Azriel hissed. 

Y/N swallowed, her words dying on her tongue. Of course she had wanted to come back. Her found family were the only people in her life she truly cared about– the ones she truly loved. But she couldn’t. Not when she was such a danger to all of them and to the city of Velaris. 

“I did think of you, Y/N,” Azriel continued. “I thought about you every single night after Rhys told me you left. You left me while I was in the middle of recovering from a mission, you promised you would help me train the next day to build my strength back and you were gone. Do you have any idea how I felt when Rhys told me you were gone?”

“I am sorry, Az,” Y/N said, a tear finally falling down her cheek. 

“Don’t apologise to me,” he snapped. He took one step forward, before bending slightly so his mouth was next to her ear. “Don’t even try to talk to me when you are here. I don’t care what you have to say to me. I don’t care about you– not anymore.”

Azriel stepped back and turned his back on her without another word, leaving Y/N watching him leave. Y/N felt her heart shatter as the door slammed. She anticipated this reaction but as she lived it, she never could have imagined that Azriel’s voice could be so cold to her. Ever since she had met Azriel, the two had always been close. He had been her best friend for as long as she could remember. His voice was always full of warmth when he spoke with her now she was afraid it would never return– and it probably wouldn’t.

Y/N’s feet moved on their own accord until she exited the room to find Elain waiting in the hall. “Are you okay?” she asked. 

Azriel’s scent lingered in the hall and she sighed. “I am. I am ready for this task to be over so I can return to Vassuryn.”

“Everything won’t stay this hostile forever,” Elain said as she led Y/N to her room. 

“I doubt that,” Y/N replied. “Azriel hates me. I’m sure Cassian does too. Mor and Amren are harder to read but they will most likely not want anything to do with me. Rhys is only playing nice because I am here on official business. If I were here for any other reason, he would banish me as soon as he got the chance.”

They paused outside the room Y/N would be staying in. Elain turned to her. “They don’t hate you, everyone is simply emotional.”

“How would you know?” Y/N questioned. “You don’t know anything about the situation between us.”

Elain offered her a small smile. “I know more than you think. And from what I know, not everything will remain like this. Things will get better.”

Y/N studied her for a moment. “I’m not sure I completely believe you, but I hope so. The less hostility, the easier my job and the sooner I can return home.”

“If you chose to remain,” Elain said, her voice distant. “You will find that you will soon have a very difficult choice to make.”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. “What?”

Elain seemed to snap out of a daze before smiling at Y/N. “Don’t worry, just something I read earlier.”

Y/N wasn’t too convinced but placed her hand on the door handle. “Thank you for walking me to my room, Elain.”

Elain nodded and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “It was no problem. I hope you get some rest, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” said Y/N, thankful that at least one person was not hostile towards her in the house. 

Elain bid Y/N goodbye before leaving down the corridor. Y/N pushed open the door and stepped inside. The bags she had packed were sitting by the bed but that was not the first thing Y/N noticed. The first thing she noticed was the familiarity of the bedroom. The sage green walls and the ornate furniture. The bedside cabinet held a mirror gifted to her for her three-hundredth birthday. The wardrobe in the corner was still missing one leg and was held up with a pile of books. 

It was her room.

Nothing had been moved since the day she left, the only thing that had changed was the bed covers. Everything else remained the same. After two-hundred years, Y/N thought that her former family would have forgotten about her, but from the looks of her former bedroom, it was clear they hadn’t.

DWOD TAGLIST:

@lostinpages13 @thelov3lybookworm @mell-bell @daisydark @captainsbaby @mischiefmanagers @scooobies @a-frog-with-a-laptop @venussdovess @radishsworld @fussel9913 @luvmoo @marscardigan @lizziesfirstwife @starlumiere @melygarcias @esposadomd @azrielswhore @sleepylunarwolf @going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @drAgOngirl

•strike through unable to be tagged •

[wickedscribbles]

if i get too loud you can shut my mouth ch. 4 (final)

Masterlist Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3 The Poolverine Playlist Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Logan Howlett/Wolverine

Rating: Explicit

Tags: misunderstandings, aftercare, mental health issues, fluff, chronic pain

Word Count: 1.4K

If you like what I write and can afford to do so, please consider buying me a coffee! It would be much appreciated. The final chapter! Thanks for sticking with me. This was an absolute BLAST to write and I so appreciate every like, comment, and reblog. ❤️

The little ugly ass dog is lying curled up right next to the bedroom door when Logan steps out. As soon as she sees him, she gets to her feet, tail wagging furiously.

“Yeah, hi, baby,” he says to her. “Hi. I see you.”

Dogpool – Mary Puppins – whatever the hell her name is – snorts and wheezes like he just told her she’s the best dog alive and he’ll never pet another dog again. (Not likely – she feels like a dead man’s ballsack.)

Shaking his head a little, he steps across the hall to the bathroom. After a brief search and an unnerving encounter with a gallon jug labeled daddy’s XTRA big lube jar (for all kinds of tight spots!!), Logan makes his way back into the bedroom with what he’d been after: a wet washcloth to clean them both up.

Wade is there where he’d left him, curled up in a tight ball, strangely quiet and motionless.

Something about that strikes him with instant dread, anxiety that he can’t put a name on. It doesn’t feel right to see him so still. This is the man who drives him up the fucking wall, who won’t shut up, who needs to have the last word, who needs to keep moving.

What happened?

“Hey,” he says softly, perching on the edge of the now-unstable mattress. “You, uh, want to get some of that off?”

His inner thighs are sticky and drying with come. Logan’s covered, too, and desperate for a shower, but he’s never just left anyone a mess after sex. This is a part of it.

Wade’s eyes flit to him, coming back to life with more of that coherence and energy that Logan recognizes. After a beat, his mouth pulls back into a grin. It doesn’t touch his eyes.

“Oh,” he laughs a little. “Ha. Yeah. Shit, yeah, sure, thanks.”

He reaches out for the washcloth, a little too quickly, the eye contact not quite there.

Logan is beginning to realize that he might have fucked up.

It’s been so long since he’s gone through the ritual of sex that he forgot to be delicate where it mattered the most. And with this being their first time, he could have just fucking said be right back. He’s an idiot, isn’t he? He’s a fucking idiot.

The white hot anger at himself springs up in Logan in just seconds, and pushing it down is so, so hard. He has to remind himself to breathe, breathe, to not let everything go to shit in his mind the way it so often tends to.

Remember what Charles used to say.

There’s a time and a place for everything. You are a good man who has had the curse of a bad life. Don’t let it define what you do. McDonald’s is shit and Nando’s will always be better, I don’t care what you say, Hank.

God, he misses that man.

Okay. He’s fine. This is fine. Logan doesn’t have to run away from this or destroy it. He can stay right here with Wade and talk through it, though his stomach is twisting itself into devastating knots and he feels like he needs a drink more than he needs air pulled through his lungs.

Logan places his hand over Wade’s. Water droplets fall between them from the washcloth onto the sheets, loud in the quiet.

“I can do that for you,” he says. “I – I want to.”

Wade blinks, and a few miniscule changes happen at once. First, Logan hears his heartbeat pick up. Next, blood rushes to his scarred face. An anomaly; Logan's never seen him blush. The satisfaction that comes with seeing it now wars with the rising feeling of affection for the man – that Logan could be the one to make such a rare thing happen.

Last, the scent that he’s always associated with Wade shifts ever so slightly. The smallest change. If Logan weren’t so close, or if they hadn’t just spent the last hour or so being about as personal as you can get, he probably wouldn’t have picked it up. Nonetheless, something is new. Sweeter.

“Sheesh,” Wade replies. “We just keep learning more about each other, don’t we, princess? Age gap, caretaker kink, how will they keep up with the tags you keep throwing at them?”

There he is – back online. Spouting nonsense and all. It’s a relief, to say the least; even if Logan has no clue what the fuck he’s talking about.

“Is that your way of saying I can clean you up?” Logan says dryly.

“Sure, sure. Whatever gets you hard, cupcake.”

Logan rolls his eyes as Wade wriggles back a little, spreading his legs. He spreads the washcloth over the other man’s skin in gentle up and down motions, pleased when he feels the stickiness breaking down. Nothing a shower can’t do better, and that’s likely where they’ll both end up soon anyway. But he likes touching base like this. Like a wordless way of telling the other person that this was important – they matter.

Saying something sweet doesn’t always come easy to him. Little actions like this do.

He lets his hands stop when the rag’s done all the work it really can.

“What now?”

Wade’s voice is a little gentler than he’s used to hearing it. A little younger.

Logan swallows past the fear and nerves, trying to recall the voices of all the people who have tried to cheer him on in the past few months as he’d hesitated and stayed away from this for so long.

Vanessa. Logan, sweetie. He wants you so bad. Let yourself want it back.

Al. Swear to God, if you two don’t get together soon. Y’all are grown men. I’m gonna be dead and in the ground before you get any dick.

Laura. If you like him, just say something. It’s hard, but not as hard as spending the rest of your life wondering what would have happened if you had just grown a pair.

They’re all right. He takes a deep breath.

“I was thinking we shower, sleep in, get breakfast.” Logan ticks each item off on his fingers. “And see where we go from there.”

Wade’s face lights up from the inside out, that real bonfire grin. Logan’s breath catches somewhere in his throat before he’s inevitably smiling back, leaning his forehead in to bump the crook of Wade’s knee.

“Yeah. Sounds like a solid plan, chief.”

After the relief of a long, hot shower, they drift back to bed. Clean and sleepy, with Mary Puppins at their heels, they arrange themselves in the blankets.

Though they start facing one another, there’s the problematic adjustment of limbs, and Logan ends up with his back to Wade. There’s only a second’s hesitation before he feels the other man wrap his arms around his waist, and Logan would almost be embarrassed at how quickly he shifts to wriggle back into the embrace if it weren’t for everything they’d just done with one another. Being held feels too good to even pretend to be stoic about it.

Wade chuckles quietly near his ear, but doesn’t remark on it.

For once, his mind isn’t racing. He’s mostly comfortable. Of course, Logan’s almost always in pain – the dull ache of a long life will leave you suffering, whether the pain screams or whispers depends on the day – but this isn’t bad. Wade’s touching him in a gentle, soothing way, almost mimicking how Logan had cleaned him earlier. Up, down. Up, down. His eyelids are so heavy.

He’s almost asleep when he hears one last thing.

“What?” Logan’s eyes aren’t even open, his voice muffled into the blankets.

“I said, you owe me 24.99 for the robe, by the way. Not counting sales tax, because I’m growing fond of you.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Logan can feel Wade’s body shake with laughter.

“35.99 for the sheets. I know, I know, that’s on the pricey side – but they’re cotton and you know my ass needs luxury.”

Still unmoving, Logan scowls. “I am not replacing your damn sheets. Get the stain out or live with it, diva. Do you think I’m made of money?”

“What about the cost of labor?” Wade presses, clearly beside himself with how entertaining this has become.

“You’re about to cost me my sanity. Go to sleep.”

They did. It was the start of a mutually kinky, violent, beautiful relationship.

[noyoyoy]

First things first, I am so sorry I haven’t written anything in the last few months. I have had ZERO energy. I’m getting better so I figured I’d go ahead and write this for all of you who are very patiently waiting. (Thank you all for understanding.)

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Husband reader

Tw: None

It wasn’t known that Simon had a family. A husband and a little girl they adopted 2 years ago for their 5th year marriage anniversary. His husband had wanted a family for so long, being with Simon since they were twenty-two, they always talked about kids. Getting a surrogate or adoption. When they got to the orphanage the little girl they saw out of their eye almost looked just like the two of them, it was almost weird when you guys saw her for the first time. she was around six, dirty blonde hair like Simon’s, just a shade or two lighter, and an eye colour that matched M/n’s perfectly. Her hair was short, shoulder length and wispy bangs that covered her forehead. Her name was Charlotte and she had been in the system since she was Four, her parents no longer in the picture. M/n knew she was the one the moment he laid his eyes on her. Simon felt the same way.

So when Simon took out his phone after a mission around his team for the first time and they saw the little girl on the same lock screen he forgot to change when he deployed again, all hell broke loose. Soap wondering who the girl was, poking at him for an answer. Gaz saying “I didn’t know you had any family left.” With a snicker that earned a hit to the head from Price and a glare from Simon.

“Cut it out. Don’t meddle in his life.” Price told the two, but deep down he wanted to know too. As far as he knew Simon didn’t have a wife, and the only family he had was dead. So who was the girl?

A week later they were off duty, Simon was lying in bed, his husband asleep on his chest and the little girl tucked snuggly into his side. Needless to say, he was trapped. Not like he planned on getting out of bed anytime soon anyway. That changed when his phone rang. His phone was on do not disturb for everything other than his work. His daughter stirred, wiping the sleep from her e/c eyes looking at Simon “What is that?..” she mumbled out with a large yawn, still mostly asleep. “Nothing sweetheart, lay back down.” Simon said as he grabbed his phone, and patted her head as she tucked back away in the spot she was.

He was upset. Clearly, when he saw it was soap. “Fuckin’ what.” He groggily growled out to the Scot on the other end of the phone, annoyed that he is fucking up his home time and woke his daughter. “Shit what got yer panties in a twist Si?” A chuckle comes after that. “fuck do ya want.” They talked for about 3 minutes before Simon felt movement in his chest. Looking down and meeting the same eyes he fell in love with, staring at him. “Gotta go.” He hung up on Soap before he had a chance to say anything back. Tossing his phone to the bed and running a hand through his lovers hair. “G’mornin’ love..” he said in a tone that would be almost unrecognizable to anyone else who knew him. With a yawn and a stretch M/n sat up, straddling Simon’s waist and we stretched again. “Good morning!” He smiled at him and noticed the tuff of messy blonde hair near Simon’s arm, a smile on his face as he looked at Charlotte.

“How did you sleep?” Simon asked, whispering as to not wake up the little girl laying by his side. “Good, you?” M/n smiled and crawled off Simon’s lap, out of bed. “Perfect.” Simon stared at him as he got up. The warmth slowly leaving his body where he once was. “I’m gonna go make breakfast for us, I’ll be back.” M/n said as he opened the bedroom door and headed downstairs into the kitchen. Simon let out a sigh, looking down at the sleeping girl, a soft smile coming onto his face. “You woulda loved her..” he whispered out to no one in particular. He loved his family. The thing he was terrified of gaining after he lost his. After the incident that left his face and body scarred for the rest of his life. The same face he thought no one would ever be able to look at without feeling sick. The same face M/n had fallen in love with.. despite how they met, despite his job. He found love. He intended on keeping it save with his life this time.

I might make a part 2, I might not. I’m still trying to get my writing motivation back, but I hope you enjoyed this. Remember I take recommendations, and feedback!

[partycatty]

dilf!johnny cage > to heal

how it goes when reader dates older johnny following the loss of sonya

warnings: grief, age gap, mentions of sex but no smut written

notes: i want to gnaw on dilf johnny until he is nothing but bones. it is for that reason that this post is LONG. yappasaurus rex over here.

masterlist <3

•first of all mk11 was so bad at covering the grief of a man losing the mother of his child

•then again that also implicates that johnny is really, really good at hiding his emotions, especially around the people he's meant to be stoic around. i wouldn't necessarily cry in front of a thunder god or cryomancer either. and i'd try to keep it together for my kid.

•regardless, johnny falls into a deep, DEEP depression that eats away at him. he should have been there on that mission. he should've canceled that ninja mime shooting and spent one more day with his family before it was completely wrecked. and he'll tell himself this every time he looks at cassie's empty eyes. he stays sober, for her, but god does he wish he could just feel nothing sometimes.

•johnny stays smiles and jokes, but as soon as he closes the door to his sleeping quarters, all he can do is blankly stare ahead. damn him and his acting skills. he wants people to check up on him, but it's just so... hard to express his pain.

•some time passes and he considers himself recovered, but every time he sees his daughter excel in training or lips smile in the way sonya's did... god.

•imagine his surprise when his own daughter asks him to get back into the dating scene. cassie says something along the lines of "you're a sad old fart that needs a woman to get him off of the couch."

•cassie's right, unfortunately. johnny let his stubble grow in and hair grow increasingly wild. he didn't carry himself as well as he once did, which was especially worrying to those who saw him as the confident, sharp, charismatic character.

•johnny declines to his daughter, finding the conversation kind of off-putting. but, on a late tuesday, he decides "fuck it" and sets up a bumble profile while sitting on the classic leather dad recliner in the living room. the one thing he forgot to do? set an age range.

•so he's a little taken aback when a 29 year old you is the third person he swiped to. instinctively, he thought to swipe left on you, but curiosity got the better of him. he read your profile and realized you sounded incredibly mature and had the same interests as him. covering his mouth and holding his phone with the other, he swipes... right, feeling an immediate intense guilt.

•he doubted you'd match with him, but as soon as he swipes, a big "IT'S A MATCH!" covers his phone screen and he lets out an audible gasp, tightening his grip on his face. he then gets a twinge of embarrassment for himself. was he seriously flipping his shit over his first match on a mobile dating app? yes.

•johnny spends a good long while staring at the screen, wondering if you'd even message him. after all, men couldn't message first on the app. what if she thinks he's too old? what if it was an accidental swipe? what if...

•NEW MESSAGE! "hiii :)" johnny swallows, afraid to open the message. what would he say? what should he say? does bumble have read receipts? would you notice he opened your message and stared for several minutes?

•he settles on "hello, how are you?" it's been a while since he's had to genuinely flirt with interest, so he opens cordially. johnny was a charmer for sure, but this time he was playing for keeps, not just for fun. he also, unlike his younger version he met some time ago, wants to take his time.

•you two chat back and forth, and while you acknowledge to him that he is indeed a celebrity (and how hilariously stupid it was that he was on a public dating site), you express no real concern over it. you mention to him that you want to see him as a man and not a character. the deeper conversation of dealing with the spotlight could come another time, as johnny didn't want to scare you away.

•you two text for a lot longer than most matches on bumble. johnny's honestly terrified of meeting up in person. he wants to be so incredibly sure that it's you he wants to meet up with. he forgot to keep swiping, even. he was so fixated on getting to know you. he felt weird talking to multiple women on the app, since he was so used to married life.

•he can't bring himself to ask you on a real date, so you two settle on a friendly coffee chat. he shaves, gets a trim, and for the first time in a long time, stresses about wearing the right things. he even calls cassie and asks if he should wear shirt A or shirt B, but was very keen on redacting your age from the conversation. that was something he was afraid to disclose to her.

•what was this man so afraid of?? you are a SWEETHEART. you're so incredibly mature, have more "vintage" interests and asked so many questions, leaning in to listen. johnny didn't feel the need to perform, in fact, he found himself... with butterflies. he death-gripped his coffee to hide the fact that his fingers were trembling.

•one coffee chat turns into two, and then three, four, and eventually, he feels okay enough to plan a real date. his heart was swelling with excitement, a new warmth in his chest. you were so effortlessly patient and kind with him, never asking for anything of him besides his time.

•he plans a dinner date, squeezing you two into a lavish restaurant that he wouldn't have been able to get into if he wasn't a celebrity. he didn't want to overwhelm you with his money and fame, but god did he want to do this right. even though the topic of money was something you never thought to consider with him, he still wanted to show off at least a little bit. it's just in his character!

•there, he starts to come out of his shell a bit more. he starts flirting back, and you two hold hands across the table, intense eye contact as you converse freely.

•johnny takes a sip of his drink, looking down. but when he looks back up, he notices you admiring him with your sweet young eyes. and it's here that he realizes just how much you've revitalized him. he springs out of bed with a smile. you're the last thought in his mind before he falls asleep. when he is with cassie, he can't stop thinking about how much you two would get along.

•which, by the way, johnny is so incredibly sure to remind you that he has a daughter that's your age. you pause and think, trying to articulate your thoughts on the awkward circumstance.

•"i understand that it may be a little uncomfortable for her and the last thing i want is to drive a wedge between you and your daughter. you speak highly of her and i deeply admire that. i perfectly understand that she comes before me."

•johnny stops himself from tearing up. you're... just so kind. you're perfect.

•after the ninth date, he decides that he's ready to go back to your place. it's a quaint apartment, and it's there that you both make the conscious decision to have sex.

•it's slow and sweet, he's murmuring praises into your bare skin as he takes his time exploring a new body. older johnny takes his time with sex unlike his younger days. he needs to appreciate your beauty, complimenting every feature on your body. you're so divine.

•"such a pretty girl..." he whisper-groans above you, strong hands holding your hips in place with a passionate firmness.

•over the next couple months, he's still working toward officially calling you his girlfriend. a new partner in his life scares him, even if you make all of that tension disappear when you're around. it's just a lot to ask of a man to take that new step again.

•biting the bullet, he asks you at your doorstep holding a cheesily large bouquet, having to glance over it to get a proper look at you. you smile sweetly, nodding and immediately accepting in that gentle voice. you knew how much this meant to him to make things official.

•cassie eventually gets the chance to meet you, as her father brings you along to a holiday party with the family. it's... it's a little weird, she won't lie. i mean, it's just weird in general to see your dad with someone that isn't your mom. that's something that naturally needs time to adjust to. and your age isn't something she can avoid discussing.

•she doesn't hate you. she actually finds you quite enjoyable to be around! she's just a little uneasy that you're her age. but, after a long, long talk full of tears and reassuring words, cassie realizes she can learn to accept you being with her dad. i mean, she sees what you do to him.

•that sparkle in his puppy-dog brown eyes is back, and he just can't stop being engulfed by your presence. a hand is always on the small of your back, a grin always plastered on his face, and eyes are always locked onto you when you're doing the most mundane of tasks. he's chirpier, and people even joke that he seems as active as he was in his younger years. you got the old man's rusty gears turnin'!

•he loves you. he didn't realize he could do that again.

[jiggy-manda]

amber freeman x reader

request: no idea if u write for this kind of stuff, but can i request a amber freeman x reader or a Sam carpenter x reader like self harm/comfort fic?

you didn’t mean for it to happen. it was supposed to be a secret, a well kept secret that nobody would find out about.

you should’ve known that your girlfriend wouldn’t take no for an answer.

amber had seen you without clothes multiple times, but you always found a way to work around it. keeping the lights dim when you’re intimate, wearing underwear that strategically covers your hips… it wasn’t a perfect system, and of course you knew she would find out eventually, but that didn’t stop you from still hoping she wouldn’t ever know.

that fated day came when you got a bit carried away and forgot to think about your ways of hiding the scars. for starters, you both were on her couch with the lights on, and you were both naked. bare. nothing to hide your most loathed yet cherished habit.

she’s been running her hands up your legs when she felt them, and she slowly frowned and pulled away.

you were too far gone that all you could give her was a curious look; you secretly hoped she would ignore it and go back to making you feel good.

“when did this start?”

you looked up at your girlfriend guiltily, and your voice was barely higher than a whisper. “i don’t know, like… awhile ago,” you breathed out.

amber gave you a stern look, causing you to break. “fine. a couple years, give or take…”

“why did you start?”

you ducked your head, avoiding her gaze. “after… the attacks.” you winced as you spoke; you didn’t want her to think it was because of her. it had nothing to do with her. you were there during the attacks, and you had gotten hurt, but it was richie who’d done it. amber… amber had ignored you. it was weird, and you still didn’t know why. you were too scared to ask her, even if you’d been dating for months at this point.

you wished you hadn’t looked back up, because all you saw was amber’s guilty look. “you started because… because of me?”

“no,” you immediately protested. “you never hurt me. i mean yeah, you scared the shit out of me for a couple hours, but you never… did anything.” you shifted in your seat uncomfortably, still not completely understanding what happened that night.

“i… yeah,” amber said with a pause. “i didn’t… i didn’t want to.”

you gave her a confused look. “what do you mean?”

“you just… you were different,” she said with a shrug. “i didn’t want to hurt you.”

“why?”

“don’t know. it just felt different.”

“oh.”

“yeah.” there was an awkward pause before she spoke again. “he— did he hurt you badly?”

“yeah,” you replied quietly, curling up to wrap your arms around your knees. “my stomach… you’ve seen it.” she nodded. “the scar healed after a year or so, but it was still serious. you can’t see how deep it was, especially with the smaller scar.”

“i see.” once again, she paused and looked down. “but if you were stabbed, why do you…” she struggled to find the words. “why do you hurt yourself? especially in that way?”

it was your turn to be at a loss for words. “dunno. just helps, i guess.”

amber looked at you, examining your face. you were visibly uncomfortable, and the vulnerability in your expression made her heart twinge. “how?”

you sighed. “it… i don’t know. it’s weird,” you said while shaking your head. “it’s stupid, really.”

amber’s eyes widened as she rushed forward to take your hand into her own. “no,” she said urgently. “it’s not stupid. nothing that leads you to harm yourself is stupid. if you feel like you need to hurt yourself, it doesn’t matter how valid you think the reason is because you deserve help either way.”

she looked down at your lower body again, moving your arm out of the way so she could observe the scars on your hips. you shifted a bit, uncomfortable with the attention on your most hated attribute.

“you take care of them, right?” she asked softly, giving you a tender look.

you nodded. “i clean them. clean my blades, get rid of the waste. i’ve never gotten an infection.”

amber felt her eye twitch at the subtle reminder that this had been a common occurrence for multiple years. “good, that’s good.” she looked down again, leaning her face closer. “can i…”

you sucked in a breath before nodding.

“okay,” she whispered.

her finger tips started running up your leg, lightly moving over the disrupted skin on your hips. you shivered at the touch, a product of both the cold nature of her hands and the intimacy of the matter.

“i’m sorry,” she said quietly.

you found yourself shaking your head once more, more forcefully this time. “it’s not your fault. stop apologizing.”

the guilty look on her face didn’t falter once, so you just brought her into a hug. “it wasn’t you.”

“im glad you’re safe now,” she mumbled into your hair.

“you make me feel safe, amber.”

the puppy dog eyes she gave you melted your heart, and you smiled down at the way she rested her chin down on your chest.

“promise you’ll tell me if you ever feel like doing it again?”

you nodded down at her. “promise.”