#my aunt tried being consoling but sigh

[l4tedawns]

Another day another incident of parent being snarky as a joke for no reason I Don’t know why I bother

[axelsagewrites]

Hey, can I please request Jacaerys x aunt!reader where he goes to her after the dance as she had been imprisoned in the dungeons and he offer her to let him have her or she'll be sentenced to death or sum. And reader is as pious and religious as Alicent and she is horrified by the idea of being sullied by ""bastard seed"" but she reveals to be c0ck-drunk by the end of it?

Jace Velaryon*Perfect Wife

Pairing: Jace x f!reader

Word count: 2809

Warnings: dub con, imprisonment, held at knife point (not during smut), praise, degradation, nipple play, p in v sex, hickeys, spanking, bruising, forced marriage, smut 18+c

Masterlist here

You weren’t much of a warrior. You had been raised the way a princess should have been. Well, that’s what your mother told you. However, when two days had passed since Aemond and Aegon had left to confront Rhanerya, and everyone refused to tell you what was happening you decided to get the hell out of there on your dragon.

Maybe you’d end up in Essos and sell a dragon egg for a home. Maybe even Dorne. You could try throw yourself on their mercy. After all, their ambassadors had always seemed to enjoy your company. However, all your plans soon crumbled when you accidentally flew into what you’d assumed to be an empty clearing.

You’d landed in a small field and had quickly tried to ‘borrow’ an apple from a local farm when you felt a strong grip on your arm and a sharp blade on your neck. So cold it had to be Valyrian steel. “And who do we have here?” you recognised Jace’s voice clearly. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you pretty girls shouldn’t go about dawdling?”

-

The stone floors bruised your knees each time you knelt to pray but you didn’t complain or even wince at the pain. You’d counted the days you’d been here by etching marks in the stone with the corner of your Seven-star necklace your mother had given you. 27 days so far. Each morning you prayed. Well, what you thought was morning. Then each afternoon then evening. Each time to a different member of the seven. Even the stranger since perhaps the god of death was the one you truly needed right now.

“My lady,” a sing song voice called out, “Lunch is ready,” Jace said as he approached your cell with his usual grin. He didn’t come every day but when he did it only seemed to add to your punishment. “I made sure to pick you the freshest apple,” he crouched down, holding it out to you.

You kept your eyes on the ground as you tried to finish your prayer, “C’mon now. They’re clearly not listening to you,” he mocked, sitting down the tray in front of the bars to your cell.

Still, you ignored him as you wrapped them up. Jace sighed and just as you finished your prayers he stood, taking the tray with him. “Where are you going?” you called, moving to stand on your feet and grabbing the bars, “That’s my food,”

“No this is my food,” he said, as if he was calling the sky blue, “And you never took it,”

“I was praying!”

“Not fast enough,” he teased. “Maybe next time you’ll remember to acknowledge the heir to Westeros,” he said as he turned to leave.

“My brothers not here,” you mumbled, turning around to go take your place on the wooden bench they called a bed.

The wine cup clattered against the wall, missing your head by only an inch. You span on your heels to confront him, but the only trace was your food dropped on the ground in a head and the apple slowly rolling towards your cell.

It stopped just out of arm’s length of the bars as if the gods really were mocking you. It took you laying on the ground, stretching out the tips of your fingernails to manage to roll it closer so you could grab it. You consoled yourself knowing he never came twice in one day.

Yet this time he did.

Jace arrived with a meal so nice looking it almost reminded you of what you used to eat. There was even a whole chicken leg on it. when he saw the apple core in the corner of your cell Jace couldn’t help but laugh. “Here,” he said, reaching it out for you to try manoeuvre through the bars when he suddenly pulled it back, “Aren’t you going to thank your prince?”

“Thank you,” you glared, reaching your hand out.

Jace just smirked, “Thank you what?”

“Thank you, dear nephew,” you offered with a fake smile.

“Say it. say that I am the true heir, a true prince, and I will be most obliged to give you this chicken leg. Straight from the queens table,” he said, showing it to you once more just to rub it in.

You could feel your stomach rumble, but you couldn’t say it. not after all this time. Not after all the battles. Not for a chicken leg. “My mother isn’t here,” you said through gritted teeth.

Jace reached through the bars, grabbing your neck before you could react. His grasp was tight but despite his fingers digging into your skin you weren’t afraid, “I can only be so patient,” he warned before letting you go. He turned to leave, taking the food with him, “besides, who said your mother is even alive?” he mocked before slamming the door shut behind him.

The stalemate continued for another day and a half and suddenly you were regretting not rationing the apple. At least the guards had kept your water jug topped up, but you didn’t want to risk that being taken too.

“I have a new deal,” Jace said, walking in empty handed.

“Where’s my food?” you said, not even standing from where you sat on your bed.

“That’s not very polite,” Jace tutted, leaning against the bars, “How would you like to get out of here?” you couldn’t help your eyes widening at the idea. Something Jace seemed to revel in. he unlocked your cell and despite wanting to run you sat still as he closed the door behind him. “Come here. Let me get a closer look at you,”

You wanted to slap him but instead you stood up and slowly crossed the floor while Jace’s eyes scanned your frame. “Still so beautiful,” he mumbled before he finally brought his eyes back to yours as your cheeks burned, “I have a new proposal for you,” he said, reaching to stroke your cheek. He was gentle but you still flinched at his touch.

He stepped closer, moving his hand down till he was toying with your necklace, his eyes not so subtly on your chest, “Marry me,” he said, and you instantly grimaced at his words, “Be my wife and I will let you free,”

“I wouldn’t be free,” you snapped, “I’d be the wife of a bastard, a nobody, a waste of space- “you began to spit your venom at him only to be cut off by his tight grasp around your neck.

“I wouldn’t be so hasty if I was you,” he warned, “What I’m offering is generous. You should hear what Daemon had planned for you,” he dropped his grip and you instantly stepped back, trying to recatch your breath.

Jace slowly began to circle you, eyeing you up from every angle as you silently thought over his offer when suddenly a thought popped into your head, “What’s in it for you? Last time I checked you already had a betrothed,”

“Alliances can change, we both know that�� he drawled, his chest pressed against your back while his hand grazed your hip. Not mine, you thought, but you stayed silent instead. “Besides I need a wife. Someone to show off in court,” his hand trailed up from your hip to your waist making you shudder through the thin dress they’d gave you, “Someone to bear children. Someone to warm my bed,” he said, his lips pressed against your ear.

His hand went to move to your front, but you grabbed his wrist before he could touch anything, “I’d rather die,” you spat.

Jace grabbed your hips, spinning you around and pulling you flush against his chest, “That can be arranged,” he warned but he still wore his teasing smirk, “You think you’d survive here without me? A pretty young things like yourself in nothing but her night dress roaming around court, think of the scandals. Gods help you if you even make it out the castle. What do you think the small folk would do with a princess like you?”

“Perhaps they’d save me. If they believed in the true king,” you said, trying to hold firm but feeling yourself shake.

He chuckled under his breath, “There is only a queen. C’mon, I can’t be that bad surely. You saying you’ve never thought about it?” he said, his hand moving down to your ass, his lips moving to your ear, “Its not just the gods who know your dirty little secrets,” he whispered, his hot breath fanning your neck.

“I want my dragon back,” you said suddenly making Jace lift his head from where he’d been dragging his lips across your neck, “If I’m to be your wife,”

“As soon as your belly swells with my seed,” he said, “Anything else?”

It felt like a trap, but you tried anyway, “And separate rooms. I don’t want to see you more than I have to,”

He chuckled this time, “That can be arranged, anything else?” you eyed him carefully before shaking your head no. one child and then you could escape with your dragon. It would take a year, maybe two, and then you’d be free. “Good. I shall have them draw up a treaty. But in the meantime,” he said, grabbing your ass so suddenly you gasped, “I want some kind of reassurance you won’t back out,”

“And what’s that?” you asked through gritted teeth.

“I want to fuck you,” he said making the words dry up in your throat, “And if I didn’t know any better id say you wanted me too,”

“And if I say no?” you asked.

Jace dropped his grip, but a smirk fell on his lips as he began to walk away. “Then no deal,” he said, reaching for the door.

“Wait!” you called, reaching out to grab his arm. Jace turned his gaze back to you with a knowing smirk, “I suppose if you are to be my husband. The gods, they’d understand,” you said, trying to rationalise it all.

Jace moved closer to you till his chest was flush against yours, “I’m sure they’d understand after all,” he said, pushing the hair out of your face, “Who could blame you for wanting some pleasure in your life?” he said, his hand trailing down till he grabbed your tit, squeezing it softly, “Why would something that feels so good be so wrong?” he whispered in your ear, his hand traveling lower to your thighs, toying with the hem of his dress.

His lips moved to kiss down your jaw, across your neck till he was kissing your undiscovered sweet spot making you moan softly. His arms moved to slip around your waist, pulling you somehow closer to him as your hands rested on his shoulders. You gasped when he squeezed your ass and winced at the quick slap, he gave it before his hands moved to the hem of your dress.

The cold air rushed over your frame, making your nipples harden as Jace pulled the dress over your head in one swoop. The only thing to cover you was your necklace but right now that felt even worse. Jace’s eyes travelled your frame, soaking up every inch, “The gods have blessed me with you,” he murmured.

“You do not know the gods,” you glared but Jace just chuckled as his hands went to cup your tits, stroking his thumbs over your perked nipples making you whimper.

“Perhaps you don’t either,” he said as he led you by your hips to your bed. He sat on it, his hands resting on your hips as he pulled you into his lap.

His lips moved to your collarbones, kissing and nipping at the soft skin. Your brain told you to push him away, but a strange feeling was overcoming your body as his hands moved to your hips. You could feel a hard bulge under his trousers as he began to move your hips, pushing your core onto his clothed cock. You moaned at the friction, his bulge rubbing perfectly against your clit sending shock waves up your body.

Soon you felt your hips begin to buck and move of their own accord. You felt his smirk against your skin as his hands moved to your tits. You gasped when he pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers making you moan. “Oh god,” you couldn’t help the moan that slipped out when he took one into his mouth, sucking on the perked bud.

You weren’t sure what had come over you, but you felt a knot tightening in your stomach, your moans growing louder as you took the gods in vain at the top of your lungs. You felt your peak hit you like a boulder before you slumped into Jace’s chest.

He moved to kiss your cheek with a chuckle. “Not even fucked you yet and look at you,” Jace said, slipping his hand down to rub against your sensitive core making your body lurch, “So wet for me,” he praised, his hand moving to unlace his trousers. “Can’t wait to see what my cock does to you,”

Before you could protest you felt his tip pressing into your entrance. You gasped, your hands moving to grab his shoulders, “Aw,” Jace pouted, “Does it hurt?” he mocked, pushing you down further, “Too fucking bad,” he practically growled as he used your hips to push you all the way down.

You almost screamed at the feeling, as if you were being split in half but Jace groaned, throwing his head back against the wall as you felt his cock twitch inside you, “Fuck you’re so tight,” he praised, giving you a moment to adjust. Your hips betrayed you again, moving without your mind thinking making him chuckle.

“Such a desperate little thing,” Jace mocked, grabbing your jaw as you tried to move away. His thumb ran over your bottom lip before using it to pry your mouth open, resting it on your tongue, “Good girl,” he praised, his free hand moving your hips.

“Fuck,” you gasped as you felt him hit all the right spots. You gave up trying to resit as your hips began to grind onto his cock.

Jace’s hands moved to your hair, grabbing it suddenly and pulling it back so he could have full access to your neck. You were sure by the way he kissed it there would be marks tomorrow but that didn’t matter now. Your hands went to his hair, tugging it softly making him growl against your skin.

His free hand went to your ass, grabbing it tightly before suddenly leaving stinging slaps against the soft flesh. You could feel your second peak fast approaching and when Jace moved to run quick circles against your sensitive bundle of nerves you felt your cunt squeeze around him as it came crashing down again.

“Fuck,” Jace mumbled, a stream of profanity tumbling from his lips as his hands moved to your hips so he could fuck you through your orgasm, “You feel so good,” he praised, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

You felt yourself coming down from your high and his movements began to slow, “Don’t stop Jace. Please gods don’t stop,” you began to beg, and you could feel his smirk.

“Begging suits you,” he teased, grabbing your jaw so he could make you face him, “You look so good right now. So drunk on my cock. Is that it?”

“Yes,” you whined, “I need you please,”

“Aw my poor baby,” he teased, “So desperate for her king,”

“Yes,” you weren’t even thinking any longer, and a spark ignited behind his eyes, “Need you. Want you my king,” you moaned.

Jace grabbed your hips tightly, standing suddenly before turning as you back slammed against the wall. You winced until you felt his hips begin to snap up against yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him tight against you. This new angle had him hitting newer spots that had your legs wrapping tight around him.

“So good,” Jace mumbled against your skin as you felt a third orgasm approaching, “My perfect little wife,” his words sent you tumbling over the edge.

Jace couldn’t resist anymore as your cunt squeezed around his cock and with a couple more pumps, he began to spill his seed. His thrusts became slow as he rode out his own peak, fucking his seed deep inside you. You were both panting as he pulled out, his forehead resting against yours as your feet finally hit the ground again.

“I always knew you had a dark side in you,” Jace chuckled as he pulled away.

“Tell anyone and I’ll kill you in your sleep, husband,” you threatened but the last word made him smile. Maybe this was a good trade after all.

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[xcherryerim]

Roommates Conflict

Mike Schmidt x afab fem!reader

word count: 3919.

warning: NSFW 18+, sexual tension, roommates to ???, stuck fetishism (the reader is stuck on the couch), consensual sex, porn with a plot, SoftDom Mike (little hints of submissiveness tho), pet names (princess, and baby), no use of y/n, in the middle of sex apology / love confession, a bit of fingering.

This is my first time writing smut so please let me know how it was so I can improve. If there are spelling mistakes, I'm sorry. My first language is Spanish.

summary: After fighting with your roommate for a month, you decide to discuss your issues with Mike but, your plans don't go accordingly, and then...Mike finds you stuck on the couch.

credits: @/kithsune for the separator

Mike has been your roommate for seven months now. At first, you thought sharing an apartment with a grown man and his little sister was about to be hell. Surprisingly, everything worked out. Mike was responsible and clean, and his sister was easy to care for. When you finally thought Mike was the best roommate imaginable, things quickly shifted.

You’re not sure if it is the long hours Mike must work or his lack of sleep making him grumpier and prone to irritation, but for the past month, the routine has been this: When you wake up after Abby is off to school and it’s just the two of you, Mike snaps, scolding you for forgetting to clean a few dishes, not finishing drying your laundry, not taking the trash out the week you were supposed to, etc.

You barely opened your eyes, and he was already being a bitch. Then, around 6 a.m., you waited for him to get home after his shift and pointed out that he was a hypocrite since he hadn’t done any major chores himself. Sometimes he pretends you aren’t there, he hisses, or he just accepts the truth and does the chores half-assed.

Today, however, you have a break from your usual responsibilities. And luckily, Abby is with her aunt for the day. Abby’s birthday was a few days ago, and Jane forgot. To keep up the façade of being a perfect aunt, she promised to take Abby to Disneyland, aka the fair down the street. How sweet.

You don’t mind, Abby. She is quiet, but a well-mannered kid. However, you wanted alone time with Mike to discuss the heated tension between the two. You decided to clean the apartment and do his chores for the day, like the dishes, sweeping the floor, throwing the trash, and even going grocery shopping so he didn’t have to go tomorrow. You knew he needed a break, too.

You finished the chores ten minutes before Mike would get to the apartment. When you sat on the old, washed-out couch, you felt a pointy object poke your lower back. The item slides down, going to the inside of the couch. A light sigh escapes from your lips as you turn, placing your knees on top of the sofa seat. You let both of your arms inside the couch, trying to find the mysterious gadget. After a few minutes of struggling, you catch it. You can tell it’s Abby’s gaming controller. She lost it a long time ago, so you know she’ll be happy to play on her console once again.

When you try to free your arms, it does nothing. You used your body force to pull away, but there was no use. You were stuck. You still insisted on doing anything to let you escape this embarrassment, and the thought of Mike seeing you like this sent shivers down your spine. You knew he would make fun of you until one of you moved out. With your strength running out, you pulled once more. No use. Loud steps filled the room, and you feared that your worst nightmare had just come true.

“What the fuck?” His eyes were wide open, a blush running across Mike’s unevenly shaved face. He tried to act as usual, but his mind was running wild. It didn’t help that he had a small crush on you that he tried to avoid and that he started to develop a new fetish. People being stuck.

“I’m stuck.” You answered, rolling your eyes at Mike. Is he always this annoying?

He stood there, not doing anything, but his eyes glimmered at you like he was admiring some piece of erotic art.

“Help me!” You demanded, but Mike just seemed overwhelmed. He walked toward his room. His knees are wobbly as he takes each step. You could hear noises like he was desperately looking for something. After a minute, the noises were gone, and the only thing you could hear was your heart beating like you had never felt before.

“Mike, help me! Mike?!” You were losing your patience. After some hesitation, Mike walks awkwardly towards the living room, his eyes never meeting yours fully.

“What?” He stuttered. Mike tried to use his usual monotone, but it came off as anxious.

“What do you mean, what?! Help me!”

“Fine, I’m sorry.”

He got next to you, wrapping his rough hands around your wrist, slightly pulling.

“I’ve tried that. Is there no use?”

“Then what else do I do?” He sighs, his hot, heavy breath melting into the thin skin of your neck. You felt your body starting to shake like it had some sort of anticipation for him to just...

You let out an aggravated groan and shake your head like it will remove those naughty thoughts of you and your roommate. This whole situation is getting worse by the second.

“Well,” Mike said, clearing his throat. “I think... I might have an idea.” He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should continue. “Do you trust me?” he asked softly, a warm smile appearing on his face, which felt unusual. You swore you had never seen him smile like that before.

You look at him suspiciously. Why did he ask if you trusted him? You weren't stupid. He always tried to mess with people in some way. But the longer you stayed like this, the more uncomfortable it became. 

"Fine. Do what you want. Just make it quick, please. This is humiliating as it is."

Mike swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. "Okay," he said, nodding once. "Hold on tight," Mike whispered before getting behind you, his fingertips shaky as he slid his hands on your hips.

You let out a small gasp as your body prickles at Mike’s touch. He pressed himself against you, his body heat enveloping yours. As he tried to pull, his hardened member hit your ass multiple times. You could feel Mike’s heart racing against your back.

You didn't want him this close, but you couldn't deny that it felt nice in a weird, twisted way. As Mike grips your hips harder, using more force than before, your brain stops functioning for a second, unable to stop you from letting out a soft moan that you were desperately trying to avoid vocalizing out loud.

Mike froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't expect you to react this way. The moan sent waves of pleasure through his body, making him even harder against your ass. He tried to focus on the task at hand. He didn’t want to imagine himself pounding you as you were stuck, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with every passing second.

“I’m sorry!” Both said it at uneven times.

“Let’s just ignore what happened and help me get off.” At this moment, you wish you could crawl under a rock and die, but you’ll probably get stuck there too.

Mike chuckled lightly, then nodded at your words, trying to clear his thoughts. He took a deep breath before sliding his hands back onto your hips. This time, he pulled with all his force, grunting as he tried to free you from the couch. The pressure building inside him couldn’t be denied, and it was clear that he was struggling to contain himself. With that, as his bulge caresses your ass, he lets a loud, desperate groan out of his dry lips. You gasped as one hand was finally free.

“It’s working…” As much as you want to hate this feeling, it’s making you feel some way. You wish you guys could forget about this so he can fuck you hard against the couch. Unintentionally, you let your ass follow the rhythm of his pulls.

Mike's mind was a mess of lust and confusion. He couldn't believe the legs in front of him were shaking in need. He was so focused on freeing you from the couch that he didn't even notice how his hips were moving in a pattern.

"Almost there." His voice was a mix of care and exhaustion. As you feel your hand slowly get loose, you decide to speak.

"Look, we clearly are... avoiding the fact that we’re really turned on right now.”

Mike’s attention suddenly went to the words being spoken, his breath catching in his throat, trying to process them. You're right, he thought. They were both so turned on by this, and they couldn't deny it any longer. He let out a shaky breath before he spoke.

"I know," he whispered. "But we have to stop."

"I just want to make sure you're okay," he continued, trying to sound calm and collected. "Once we're out of here, we can... we can do whatever you want."

“No.” The simple answer made him still. “Once I get out, we will be too embarrassed to even look at each other. You can’t see my face right now; I can’t see yours, so... let’s do it now.” You suggested. It felt humiliating; you hated that you sounded so needy, but for some reason, Mike had that effect on you now.

Mike was terrified and excited. He had never been so high on lust by someone before, and the thought of finally having you beg him to fuck you right here, in this awkward position, with your face buried in the cushions, was driving him crazy. It is like his darkest fantasy is finally going to come true. Without any thought, he removed his pants rapidly and slid a condom down his shaft.

Mike takes his hands up to your sides, gently caressing your skin as he slowly pulls you back towards him. His cock rubbed against the thin fabric of your shorts, which slightly hugged your soaking folds, eliciting a moan from both of you.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice shaky and barely above a whisper.

“Yes.”

Mike nodded slowly, his breath coming in short, unsure gasps. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against your ear. "Then let me show you how much I want you." He removed your shorts slowly and steadily. As soon as your underwear was removed, he licked his fingers before settling them in your folds. 

Mike’s hands were always something you stared at in secret when he wouldn’t notice, and now his rough, manly hand is wrapped around your most sensitive areas. The heat building up inside of you from just his touch alone was hunting.

"Please," you managed to croak out as he teased you mercilessly. Mike chuckled lightly before finally giving in and sliding his long fingers into you. You moaned loudly as he started moving them in and out, hitting all the right spots that made you feel pleased. His free hand reached down to roughly fondle your breasts through your shirt. You arched your back into his touch, begging for more. But instead of giving you what you craved, Mike pulled away suddenly, leaving you panting heavily.

Before you could ask why he stopped so suddenly, you felt his firm grasp forcing you to spread your legs. Your entrance was wet and inviting to him. Mike gently pushed his hips forward. His cockhead pressed against your tight cunt, and you could feel him throbbing with need. He paused for a moment, gathering his courage, before slowly pushing forward. It wasn't long before you started to whimper harder. The smell of the combined arousal filled the small room, fueling him even more.

Mike moaned loudly, feeling you give in to him. He thrust his hips forward, burying deep inside with one swift motion. Your warmth engulfed him, and he couldn't believe how good it felt. 

"Fuck,” he whispered in your ear. "You feel so good." His raspy voice and uneven breaths made a high-pitched whine escape from your lips. As a response, Mike leaned closer, making his member fully inside you as he nibbled your ear.

“Was this your plan all along? Is that why you started to wear those slutty shorts more often?”

You tried to choke some words out, but the feeling of him inside you like this was so ecstatic and addictive that the only thing you could do was take him as he placed.

He started to move, his hips rolling back and forth in a steady rhythm. “You didn’t answer me.” His hot, sweaty body overpowered yours. “Use your words for me, would you?” he asked, his voice as delicate as his touch. Mike’s hand found the freed hand of yours, intertwining his fingers like he had to hold on for dear life. Every time he pulled out, only to push back in, he could feel you clenching around him. It was the most intense feeling he'd ever experienced. His breath came in ragged gasps as he lost himself by being inside you while you were helplessly stuck. 

The only thing you could do was shake your head side to side at his question, but the real answer was more complicated than that. The first time you wore shorts, it wasn’t intentional, but when he saw you with them, he seemed to listen to you with more attention as you scolded him for not doing his chores that day, so you started to use them in your favor from time to time.

Mike chuckled at your clear lie, and he started to speed up, your body pressing against the couch more intensely as he pounded you harder.

You didn’t imagine Mike being so good with his dick. It is not like you know his sexual life, but in your eyes, he seemed the type to not go around sleeping with people. His life is too stressful for him to even care for his own needs. Maybe it's all pent-up horniness.

Mike's eyes were closed, his face twisted in pleasure as he took you with long, deep strokes. He couldn't believe how good it felt to finally have you like this. He knew he shouldn't be enjoying it this much, but he couldn't help himself. He was lost in the moment, completely consumed by his desires.

His hand started to smack your behind. His slaps weren’t too strong to hurt you, but enough to make you gasp. As he increased the speed and started to smack harder, you let out sounds of pain and pleasure. “You can take it, baby, it’s okay,” Mike said, his calm voice contrasting his vile actions before slapping your ass one last time.

As he continued to thrust, he leaned down, biting your shoulder, almost like he wanted to hide his whiny moans. "Shit," he groaned again, pulling out of you slightly before pushing back in with a rougher force. "You're so tight."

“You need to stop pulling out... it’s cruel.” You said in between cries, his length making you feel lightheaded as if you could almost see stars.

Mike's breath hitched in his throat at your words. He couldn't believe he was doing this to you. Without warning, he pulled out completely, leaving you empty. You could feel him throbbing against your ass, aching to be inside you again. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he leaned over, his chest heaving.

"I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "I can't help myself."

“What?!” You stuttered; the sudden emptiness felt like hell.

“Do you always have to be an asshole?!”

Mike's heart broke at your words. He knew he was being cruel, but he couldn't help himself. He needed you too much.

"No," he replied softly. "I don't."

His hands travel slowly from your hips to your chest. Cupping your breasts through your oversized shirt. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before he lost control again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, his voice quiet. "I know I've been an asshole this past month. There is no excuse for my behavior but—fuck!" Without waiting for a response, he leaned forward, pressing his lips against the back of your neck. His tip pressed against your entrance again, and he whimpered, unable to hold back any longer.

"Please forgive me," he said as he kissed your neck desperately. "Let me repay you for my bad behavior."

Feeling his hot breath in your ear made you squeal. Your knees felt weak, and the air seemed to be overwhelmingly steamy. The only thought you have in your head is Mike pleasuring you and driving you to your limits.

With no response from you, his hands let go of your chest and quickly went to your shoulder. The sudden movement made you completely free from the couch edges. You immediately look down. The realization of what you guys were doing just settled in.

“Just look at me, please.” With a light force, he pulled you to face him, his body above yours. He is a mess. Red face with anxious teary eyes, sweat coming out of his forehead and traveling to his neck. He was a complete utter mess because of you, but you couldn’t deny the sight of him like this was so dreamy.

“Please, just forgive me.” Mike’s knees quickly touched the ground as his puppy eyes looked up at you. “I've been an asshole to you because I like you, and I know it’s wrong because we’re roommates, but... damn it. “His eyes shifted to your thighs, shaking in need, but the only thought in his mind was him being wrapped in them. He coughs, trying to regain composure.

After several moments of silence, Mike finally found the strength to speak, his heart racing faster than ever before. "I... I apologize for everything," he managed to croak out. "I'm sorry, but please, please let me feel you again." His voice cracked slightly as he reached out tentatively towards you, wrapping his arms around your leg in an embrace.

You hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to accept his apology or leave him there alone. But then something changed inside you. Maybe it was just seeing how vulnerable he truly was, but you decided to relent. Reaching over to gently place your hand on his cheek, he pulled closer until your bodies finally connected once again. "It's alright," you whispered, giving him a small smile. “I sort of like you to-" Mike didn’t hear your confession. As soon as you said it’s alright, his arms picked you up with ease, making his way into his room.

He placed your body in his bed. “There you go.” He had an ear-to-ear smile. Mike turned on his nightstand lamp. The room was lit up slightly as the sunrise was shining through the windows, but the lamp brought more clarity to his room, which was tidied up nicely. If he was so obsessed with keeping his room clean, why couldn’t he do that with the apartment?

You find him scattering for something desperately. Lube. Once the lube is finally in his hand, he crawls into the bed with you, placing his swollen lips from all the biting he had to do to remain quiet into yours.

From the corners of your eyes, you can see him placing some lube on his palm and lightly spreading it across his cock, lightly stroking himself. A light whimper was vocalized as he kissed you. With one final stroke, he gets on top of you, a mischievous smirk plastered across his face as the thought of finally getting to see you lose your mind while his cock is inside you sends him waves of pleasure. Mike then looked at you with pleading eyes, asking for permission to continue, which you allowed.

This time, he didn’t hold back as he buried himself into your tight walls. The sudden coldness of the lube makes you shake. The combination of the lubricant and Mike’s hot member is driving you wild with desire. Making your hands dig into his back and your legs wrap around his waist, holding him closer to you.

At your action, Mike picks up the pace, his hips moving faster and harder, his cock slamming into you with each powerful thrust. His cockhead contracts and releases, sending pleasure through your sensitive spot repeatedly. He groans louder, his breathing becoming heavier as he loses himself in the rhythm of their passionate lovemaking.

“I can’t believe we’re finally doing this.,” Mike said it under his breath, almost like he was speaking to himself.

“Mi- Mike.” His confession made your heartbeat follow the same speedy rhythm as his thrust. Your eyes were wide shut as your fingertips dug into his back.

Mike whines, and his fingers dig deeper into your hips, leaving marks that would likely turn into bruises later. You were not going to be the only one marking him. Mike wanted you to remember this. He then increased the speed of his thrusts, his hips moving faster than ever before as if he needed this release just as much as you did.

His rhythmical motion created a wet slapping sound that echoed around them, filling the room with the sounds of your lovemaking. His breath was raw against your neck, his lips leaving a trail of saliva along your collarbone. His tongue traced your jawline, nibbling and teasing your earlobes before returning to your mouth for a deep, passionate kiss.

He moaned again, his voice hoarse with desire. "Oh god, you feel so fucking good, baby." As Mike said this, he picked up the pace even more, his hips slamming against yours in a relentless rhythm. His cockhead rubbed against your G-spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

“I’m close.” You announced it with hesitation.

Bucking his hips harder, pushing his member deeper into you again and again with no mercy. "Cum for me, princess," Mike murmured. "Let me make you feel good. "Let me please you.” 

Mike’s words were like magic, his cock hitting your G-spot in perfect rhythm, driving you over the edge. With a loud, primal cry, your body convulsed around him, and you felt yourself climaxing intensely. Your tight walls contracted powerfully around his thick member, milking him dry as he continued to thrust inside of you.

As your orgasm subsided, Mike followed suit, his climax hitting him like a freight train. His cock twitched violently inside of you as he whined. His hold on your waist loosened slightly, but he didn't pull out just yet. Instead, he rested heavily on top of you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“So…” You said it awkwardly as you patted Mike’s head. 

“About the chores...”

Mike chuckled lightly, his lips forming a dumb smile as he looked up to you. 

“Yes, I’ll do them now. I promise.” Mike rolled his eyes and then placed his hand on your cheek. Caressing it with his thumb. “And… I’ll be a better roommate for you.” 

You nodded. “Thanks, Mike.” 

“I noticed you cleaned the apartment... So let me get you cleaned up.” Mike stood up and walked to his bathroom. You could hear the water hitting the bathtub. As you peeked to get a better glance, Mike turned his head to meet your gaze. 

“Let’s have a bath together.” He said this as he disappeared from view to grab a foaming bubble bottle.

“And who knows, maybe we could do round two.” Mike’s tone was cheeky and playful. He leaned into the door, looking at you up and down. Proud of how messy he made you. 

“Come on.” Mike smiled as he went to reach your hand, walking you into the bathtub.

FIN. Hope you guys liked it. Help me choose my next smut here!

Thank you so much for reading.

[ventingfanfics]

Angst story where reader makes Shuri mad cause I seen a lot talking abt reader being mad

Angst one-shot

Nakia joined Shuri on the sand. They shared soft smiles. 

“Now is the time that you tell me why you’re really here, aside from seeing your nephew,” the older of the two spoke.

Shuri looked slighted. “There’s gotta be another reason?” She received a knowing expression in response. “I can’t just be a good aunt?”

Nakia chuckled. Shuri had in fact been spoiling Touissant with gifts and quality time. There was an unmistakable bond between them that grew each week.

“It’s not about your aunt duties. It’s about you not mentioning Y/N. I haven’t heard you say anything about her all day.”

“It’s only been a day…” Shuri backed down, however, when Nakia gave her a smirk that said she wasn’t buying any of it. “Okay, fine. We had a fight—not a physical one, you can relax. But the short of it is, she thinks I don’t want her to have a life.”

“Hmm?” Nakia was wildly confused. That didn’t sound right at all. 

“Yeah,” Shuri said, sighing. “She calls herself paying me back for working long hours by going out every weekend. All I said was you can’t cancel this one thing just to have dinner with me? Do I need to start scheduling dates with you in advance? Because you’re always booked!” 

Flashback to Yesterday

“Now, you know you have a lot of nerve, Shuri. You are the one who is always booked in that damned lab! On the weekends I want to do more than cuddle. I want to go out! I want to have a good time with my friends, meet people, and be outside! You never want any parts of it, so I made it easier for both of us. But the one time you do want to go out, I’m supposed to drop everything?” 

Shuri could hardly believe what she was hearing. “I didn’t know wanting to take my girlfriend out would be such an inconvenience for you. Have you not been going to the club and parties for weeks straight? Every time I asked you if wanted to do something, what did you say? You already had plans. Damn, you can’t fit me in for one Saturday?”

“No, what about all the Saturdays you had me thinking we were going out only to flake! The Saturday you just so happened to finally want to be social with your girlfriend, I said my friends were having their housewarming…-“

“Which thanks for asking me if I wanted to come!”

“Shuri, how many times did I invite you to things and you never wanted to go? Unless if it’s your event or something, you’re never interested. At the end of the day, all you care about is that stupid lab.”

You could see that you had now struck a nerve in Shuri. She stood from her chair with so much force that it railed against the wall. “Take that back.”

You shook your head with a scornful laugh. “That’s my entire point, it’s all you care about!”

“No, the lab is all you care about. You can’t keep it out your mouth and you are letting it ruin us!” She pointed angrily. 

“You don’t get to put this on me! If you knew you wouldn’t have time or wanna have time for a relationship, you should have never entered into one.”

“No, maybe, I should have never entered into one with you.” 

That almost knocked you over but you refused to crumble before her. Instead you decide to hit her back. “You may find someone else, but they too will eventually see that dating the Queen of Wakanda is not all it’s cracked to be.”

End flashback

Nakia gasped. “She said that?”

Shuri put on a smile as she sniffled and quickly wiped her eyes. 

“You know she didn’t mean that,” Nakia tried to assure. “She’s only ever spoken highly of your relationship, and happiness doesn’t lie. That was the hurt talking. I mean, you did suggest that you shouldn’t have gotten with her.” 

“I…I think I really messed up, Nakia.” 

Toussaint took a break from his friends, staring at his aunt who was clearly emotional and being consoled by his mother. 

He raced over there. “Aunt Shuri, who did this to you?” 

Nakia smiled at her son. “She got some sand in her eye…” she answered when Shuri took a beat.

“Don’t insult my nephew’s intelligence like that,” Shuri found her voice. 

“Yeah, mama, I can tell that it’s something serious,” Touissant agreed. “I ask again, who.did.this.to.you?" His stare was unwavering on the princess while she gazed at him in awe.

“Your father would be so proud of you.”  She smiled as he embraced her tightly, huffing out a laugh when he pointed out that she and Nakia tell him this daily. She patted for him to sit down. “Don’t give us any reasons not to. But, little man, sometimes couples get into disagreements, and I am in one now.” 

“With Y/N? Tomorrow is not promised, so try to make it right today.”

Shuri and Nakia exchanged looks.

“Please don’t cry again,” Touissant groaned. 

“We won’t cry, we will listen,” Nakia replied, casting a look at Shuri and holding her hand. 

A tearful Shuri nodded with a smile that held promise. The three family members went indoors and Shuri excused herself to the room she’d been staying in. Her leg bobbed up and down as she considered how she wanted to approach this conversation. You had made her so angry. But more than anything, you made her sad. And this wasn’t normally so. Typically, you brought an unrivaled joy to her life. 

You were the reason that the love songs she’d been singing along to for years were now her reality. You were the partner she wanted to build with, grow old with, and possibly have a Touissant of your own with. It wasn’t always Wakanda that motivated her. You also were her boost.

When Shuri felt a little more at ease about having this conversation, she called you. She was bit surprised when you answered off the first ring. “Hi Y/N.”

“Hi Shuri. Are you well?”

“I am okay, I am still with Nakia and Touissant.”

“I know you know this already, but I’m home.”

“I thought you’d be at your friend’s mother’s birthday party.”

“I didn’t feel up to it.”

Shuri didn’t have to guess why. This was confirmation that you were just as affected by this mess between you. “Baby, I’m sorry. I did one of the things I hate, which is to speak so freely when I am frustrated, but the truth is, you are the only one I want to be with. I can’t even entertain the thought of being with another.”

You smiled to yourself at her heartfelt admission. “I knew you didn’t mean those things, however, it still hurt to hear you say them. But I think that was both our intention in that moment, to hurt each other. I want to apologize too. I should’ve never called your lab stupid. I know your lab and the work you do overall is important to you. It’s important to me too. And honestly, it’s one of the reasons I fell for you. Not necessarily because you’re Queen—an amazing one at that, but I love being with someone who values their country. It’s beautiful to see. And I want you to feel supported by me, not stressed. When I was going crazy over not seeing you as much, it’s only because that’s how much I like having you around, that’s how special you are to me…”

Your words soothed Shuri, calming her, making her feel you in her bones. “Y/N, you are so precious, and yes, I am passionate about my duties and leadership, but that does not mean that I should take you for granted. You are so good to me, and I need to do a better job of appreciating you. I know you are just as much as a prize, but no one can have you but me.”

“You know I love it when you get territorial,” you said, amusing her. 

“I love it when you tell me what you love about me.” Her voice was a touch lower but closer. 

“Are you flirting with me Shuri Udaku?”

She laughed. “Is it working? Because I want to take you out on a date. And then I want to have fun afterwards, at any place of your choosing.”

“Just tell me what time I should be ready.”

Shuri smiled like she did the first time you held conversation. She could not make it home to you soon enough. 

[ginnympotter]

27 for the prompts?

27. I thought we were family. went with another ridiculous Jily lives idea for this one lmao hope you like it :)

"I thought we were family," said Harry, slightly outraged. "You lied to me."

"I didn't lie, mate," Sirius tried, putting a consoling hand on his shoulder, but he shook it off. "I'm still your godfather-"

"I've been calling you Uncle Sirius this whole time- and you're not even my uncle!"

"Harry, love," Lily chimed in, sitting down beside him. "Family isn't always about blood and technicality."

"Sirius has been like my brother since we started school together," James explained. "And he came to live with me before our last year at Hogwarts, so my parents basically adopted him. His mum, dad, and brother aren't very nice."

Harry looked up at Sirius, guilt etched on his face. "They're not?"

"About as nice as your Aunt and Uncle Dursely."

Harry grimaced at that dramatically. Sirius and James chuckled while Lily sighed. "Hasn't Sirius been a much better uncle to you than Uncle Vernon?"

Harry nodded.

"Gets you much better Christmas gifts, right?" James asked with a grin.

"Loads better," admitted Harry. "And birthday ones."

"And I take you on broom rides, and to Zonko's, and to-" Sirius caught Lily's eye, then cut himself off. "Well, a lot of fun places."

"And he always makes you feel better when you're sad," James reminded him. "When you were a baby, sometimes he was the only one who could get you to stop crying!"

"Really?" asked Harry.

"Well, maybe not in his human form, but when he'd transform into Padfoot, you'd be so pleased."

"Point being," Lily said. "Even though Dad and Sirius might not be blood-related, they're still family. We all are. We love each other like a family should, and that's what matters."

Harry pondered this, looking between all the adults. His eyes landed back on Sirius. "I'm sorry your mum and dad aren't nice."

"That's okay," he told him, offering a smile. "Good thing my godson is."

Harry smiled back.

"Are we still best mates?" Sirius asked tentatively.

Harry thought about it for a moment. "Hmm... Sure. Can you transform into Padfoot and give me a ride around the backyard?"

"That can be arranged."

"After dinner," Lily said sternly.

"Yes, Mum," they said in unison.

[captaincherrie]

Nefarious pt. 5

Aaron Hotchner x OC

summary: In a constant game of life and death, two people meet. Changing their lives and those of everyone around them.

Trigger warning: If you are not in the right headspace, or are sensitive to this type of content, please scroll by! Put yourself first! This is purely fiction and is not based on any real events!

Warnings!: murder, unintentional murder, death, suffocation, broken bones, mental health problems (psychosis), child death, HEAVY ANGST, crying, yelling, no cute scenes this is just pure angst

AN: The 5th part is finally here. I usually don't write stuff this angsty and graphic, but I felt like I needed to for the sake of the story. This is a criminal minds fanfic and it wouldn't be like that if murder and tragedy didn't happen! That being said, I worked very very hard on this part and took a long time to get it right. I feel like it came out the way it was in my head. Although this is a very heavy chapter, Im very proud of my hard work. As always: let me know what you think! I really appreciate that!

disclaimer: I do not own criminal minds or its characters. The only thing originally mine are the characters and storylines I created!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Wrong Side of Heaven

Arthur Schopenhauer said “mostly it is a loss that teaches us about the worth of things”

Ben, Scott and Aubrey all sat on the small couch standing in their aunt’s house. A cartoon was playing, but none of the children were really looking at it. Scott and Ben looked down at their feet as the tears silently fell down their cheeks. It was only Aubrey, who was still too small to understand, that was crying and screaming uncontrollably.

Their aunt clutched her head as she shouted at little Aubrey, not being able to withstand the noise coming from the 5-year-old.

“Stop crying!” She yelled, “Just shut up and be quiet!”

As if something snapped inside of Megan, she grabbed the wrist of her niece, roughly pulling her up. Dragging her towards the stairs, she paused and turned for a moment.

“Mommy is gonna bring your sister to bed now, be good.” She smiled sweetly at the boys on the couch. Ben and Scott shared a confused look before nodding.

When Aubrey and Megan arrived at the room with three small beds, Aubrey was still crying. Her crying didn’t seem to stop as Megan tried to pad her head in a consoling way.

“I want my mommy!” Aubrey wept.

Coarsely changing Aubrey in her pajamas, Megan lifted her in bed. However, Aubrey fought the movement until Megan grabbed one of her pillows. Putting the pillow on the little girl’s head, she started adding pressure until the movements started to slow down.

“Shhh, your mommy is here. Calm down now.” Megan shushed.

When the Aubrey’s crying stopped and her arms limply fell down her body, Megan removed the pillow. Her eyes were still opened, staring into the void. The life had left her not that long ago, she was still warm.

Megan smiled down at the body of the girl as she tucked Aubrey’s body in, crossing her arms around her teddy. Kissing the side of her head, she bid her goodnight as she walked away from her niece she just robbed of a future.

-

A defeated sigh left Josie’s mouth as she hung up the phone. The social worker she spoke to was not interested in telling her anything else but “they are fine” and “their aunt is a nice lady”. They had left 5 hours ago with no intention to come back until requested by the police department.

With a huff she moved towards the desk she had been sitting at to pack things up and call it a night. Looking at the clock it was already 11 p.m. Tomorrow she would make sure to see the kids, with or without Hotch’s permission.

At the same time Hotch entered his hotel room, it was a rare occasion he wasn’t the last one to leave the office or precinct. As he opened his door, he felt his phone buzz. He snatched his phone from his pocket as he heard the ringtone play.

“Yes Garcia” Hotch answered.

“Sir, Megan Barlow suffers from manic episodes. She suffered serious head injury from the accident and was prescribed a medicine called Fluphenazine, also known as Prolixin. However, Megan hasn’t been to the pharmacy to pick up last months order. Her psychosis contained mostly delusions and hallucinations.” The blonde technical analyst finished.

Without a word, he hung up the phone. The hotel was 30 minutes away from Megan Barlow’s house, while the precinct was only a 10-minute drive. With a sprint he ran towards JJ’s and Emily’s room, knocking on the door without a wait. He ran around the hall, knocking on all the team members doors. As they all opened the door, they looked at his anxious demeanor.

“We need to go now! Get dressed now and meet me outside in 5.” He barked. Everyone closed their doors in a hurry to change in something appropriate.

With a sigh he opened his phone to call a certain brown-haired agent.

-

An unknown number flashed on her screen, “Hello, this is agent Lovejoy.”

“Lovejoy, its agent Hotchner. I need you to drive to Megan Barlow’s house now. Take reinforcements with you. Whoever you can find, be prepared for what you’ll see.”

“Sir, what is going on?” She asked reluctantly.

“Megan Barlow is suffering from manic episodes, without medication. She is a danger for herself and for those kids. Go now.” He ordered.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, and with a heavy heart answered, “Yes sir.”

-

In the meanwhile, Ben and Scott walked upstairs to the room they were supposed to sleep in. Their sister already sleeping steadily in her bed.

Scott was fully changed in his pajamas as their aunt came in. Her cheerful spirit off-putting as she looked at them. Ben walked into the room with only his shirt and underwear on.

Before he walked towards his bed, he went to give his sister a kiss, like their mom always did. What he didn’t expect was for his lips to touch her cold forehead.

“Aunt Meggie, she isn’t breathing! She is so cold! I-I think she is dead!” Ben yelled.

Megan turned around, smile still on her face.

“Nonsense sweetie, she is just sleeping. Now listen to mommy, its already late. You have soccer practice tomorrow.” Megan answered in a monotone voice. She sounded almost robotic.

Ben jumped from the bed his sister laid in. “She is not sleeping! Please come look at her!”

The smile vanished from Megan’s face as she started walking towards Ben. Grabbing his wrist she spoke calmly, “You’re going to wake up your sister. Now go to bed.”

“No, what is wrong with you? Look at Aubrey!”

With a tug he freed his wrist from her grip. This only seemed to anger Megan more as she launched for him again. With a panicked look Ben made a run for the other side of the room, connecting to the bathroom door.

“Scotty, run! Go get help!” Ben screamed at his younger brother.

With a nod, Scott ran for the door of the room. However, this made Megan’s attention shift from Ben to Scott. With a swift turn she followed Scott down the hall. Ben followed the two with a dash.

“Stop with these games! You two have soccer practice tomorrow and now it’s time for sleep!” Megan puffed.

Instead of running for the stairs, Scott decided it was best for him to lock himself up in Megan’s bathroom. What he didn’t realize is that there was a second door for entering, connected to her bedroom. Instead of waiting in front of the hallway door, she made a turn for her own bedroom. Allowing Ben to get to the stairs already, where he waited for his little brother to come out the bathroom.

Afraid his brother wasn’t getting out in time, Ben screeched at him, “Scott, she is coming! Hurry, get out of the bathroom!”

Unlocking the door, Scott came running for the stairs. Ben and Scott tried running down fast but Megan followed rapidly behind. With big strides, she grabbed onto Scott’s pajama collar. The tug on his collar made his head collide with her hip, which made his feet slip from the step he was originally standing on. Megan’s reflex kicked in as she released Scott’s collar as soon as she grabbed it.

With horror Ben and Megan watched as the little boy tumbled down the stairs, landing with a sickening crack. Scott wasn’t moving and his neck was bend in an awkward angle. He laid silently at the foot of the stairs.

Ben looked down at his brother, “Scott!”

It didn’t take long for reality to kick in. Ben realized Megan was still on the stairs, only a few feet away from him. His heart raced as he ran for the door, passing his brother in the act.

Megan ran after him, “Come back you little shit” You listen to me now!”

-

Never had she driven this fast. Never had she run as many lights as she had now. Luckily for her, she was alone in the SUV and the roads weren’t busy at this hour. Police cars escorting her with sirens blaring also made driving towards the house a lot easier.

As they almost reached the house, a small blonde figure came into sight. He wasn’t wearing much else than a pajama and underwear and it looked like he was running for his life. He didn’t stop running until he touched the first police car with his hand.

Josie made her car come to a halt, jumping out, not even bothering to close the door. When she almost reached Ben, she saw the reason he was running. Megan came into sight, a sneer edged on her face as she was running after Ben.

A few police officers stopped her before she could reach Josie, Ben hiding safely behind her leg. Only when Megan was cuffed and seated in the car Ben dared to speak.

“Miss Josie, she- she.” Ben tried to whisper, adrenaline leaving his system.

Josie bend over to get to Ben’s eyelevel. She moved her hand through his hair as he started to cry. That’s what it took for Josie to take Ben into a bone crushing hug, without intending to ever let go.

Another car stopped at the scene, out came Katherine Cole. In a straight line she walked towards Josie and Ben, who were still hugging each other.

“Josie, I think its best if you’d look in the house first. I’ll stay here with Ben.” She spoke as she softly put her hand on Josie’s shoulder.

With a nod, she let go of Ben. His cheeks tearstained as she wiped them with her thumb. “I’ll be back soon. You stay here with Katie, okay?” she whispered to the boy.

With a silent nod from Ben, Josie stood up. Turning around, she walked up to the house. Two officers stood outside the door. One of the men made eye-contact with her, shaking his head as she walked up to the door.

From that moment things seemed to move in slow-motion.

When she pushed the door, she saw a white sheet lying at the end of the hallway. A forensic photographer moving around it. Taking pictures of everything that could lead to or was evidence.

With small steps she reached the men photographing, looking at him with questioning eyes. He bent over, lifting the sheet slightly. Revealing a bruised looking Scott, neck broken from the fall he endured. She stared for a moment.

There was a loud ringing in her ear as she looked at the man again. He was speaking but no noise seemed to come from him. Tears pooled in her eyes, she blinked at him a few times before she saw him pointing up the stairs.

Walking the stairs felt like she was carrying the world on her shoulders. Already dreading what she was about to see.

The whole hallway upstairs was crowded with police officers. They sheepishly looked at her. She neared the doorway to a room that seemed to be a children’s one. Taking a deep breath, she stepped around the corner.

What she saw made the tears leak from her eyes, tears she had been fighting so hard since entering the house.

Infront of her was little Aubrey, clearly lifeless as she laid still in her pink bed, holding her stuffed animal.

Almost as if in a daze, she walked towards the exit of the house. The ringing in her ears only growing louder.

At the entrance she found her trusted unit chief Katherine, opening her arms to catch Josie in a warm hug. Looking over her shoulder, Josie saw the BAU team had arrived.

As Katherine led a crying Josie away, they came to face the six members of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Every one of them looking as stunned as the next one.

With a quiver, Josie looked at them before taking a seat on the sidewalk. Katherine moving to the side to talk to the sheriff. JJ came to sit next to her, offering her an arm to cry on. Silently they sat together, weeping about the tragedy that had just occurred.

Minutes passed before JJ and Josie decided to get up from the spot they had been sitting at. When they stood up, Josie heard someone clear their throat behind her. As both JJ and Josie turned around, JJ was queued at to let them have a moment

Aaron looked at Josie and Josie looked at Aaron, a second between them passed in silence.

“You, uh, shouldn’t blame yourself for this. We had no idea this would happen, and you handled it very well.” Hotch spoke hesitantly.

A scoff escaped Josie’s lips; her eyebrows flashed up in surprise.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t blame myself. I blame you”

She pushed past him. Walking towards the car, only to leave the unit chief with a heavy heart.

-

When the BAU arrived back at the office, the case was wrapped up. Megan Barlow confessed to killing her sister and brother-in-law, which send her spiraling. The manic episode she endured yesterday made her forgetful about the death of her niece and nephew. She would receive treatment at the jail she would stay, for how long was still to be determined.

As each member of the team walked to their desk, they started doing paperwork. Writing up their reports of what happened. The mood was heavy, making the writing of the report extra hard.

Suddenly JJ’s phone rang, revealing a Maryland phone number.

“Yes, this is agent Jareau” she answered the voice on the phone.

A moment passed before she spoke again, “Alright ma’am, thank you for letting me know. We’ll be in touch.”

Walking towards the group, she broke the news she just heard. The group huddled together in gossip, while their unit chief came walking back from the break room with a cup of coffee in hand.

“What is going on?” he questioned.

The group broke apart as they all stared at him. JJ turned around and took a step towards him to speak.

“Sir, Katherine Cole just called. Josephine Lovejoy has turned in her badge and gun. She quit.”

To be continued.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

the nature of wisdom doesn’t favor the eternal (Yae Miko x Reader)

tags: alt title: how to be a heartbreaaaaker, gn!reader, pre!2.5 but made with miko’s known lore, manifesting c2 miko, this has been in my draft for a while just sitting here collecting dust but i figured why not post

a/n: i know i don’t write for unreleased characters but i just really wanted to make something based on the known info on miko. self promo but if you haven’t already, check out my genshin blog’s yae miko lore post uwu. when miko’s out i might expand upon this in another fic. (also if you didn’t know, the shimenawa flower is a type of mizuhiki called ume musubi. it’s a hard to untie so it’s a popular charm for couples to protect their relationship or even as wedding decoration.)

will i ever make a second part or a full fic based on this? idk. lol tell me your reactions and reblogs appreciated.

“Why is this being so difficult?!” With a noise of frustration, you tossed your craft-in-progress at the basket.

“It isn’t being difficult,” Miko smiled impishly as you pursed your lips with sour exasperation. “you’re just working against the cords.” Just as she said that, the guuji placed her newly finished ume musubi flower next to her growing collection of finished mizuhiki charms. All varied in sizes ー in varying shades of red, white, gold, and silver ー but all were irrefutably perfect. 

Meanwhile, you were still working on your first. “Easy for you to say, you’re a master at this by now.” You sighed loudly but you picked up your attempt to make a flower out of the three cords you were given to work with. You were excited initially when Miko asked if you wanted to help her make the flower-shaped charms they sold at the Grand Narukami Shrine alongside their omamori.

You weren’t a shrine maiden, you weren’t even Inazuman. You were just a student from the Academia who came to do field research on the way Electro affected the country’s flora. Then not even a week later, much to your poor luck, the Raiden Shogun declared her Sakoku Decree and you were forced to remain in Inazuma well past the date you were expected to return with your research.

There were some small consolations to start. 

You weren’t stuck in Ritou, which you undoubtedly would have been if you’d left a week later like your mother insisted because your cousin was having a birthday party soon. 

Even if some of the Shogunate samurai were a pain, that Kujou Sara lady mostly kept them in line.

The flora was just as spectacular as you’d imagined, what with the storm-sensing naku weed and the perpetually floating sakura petals.

The biggest plus, however, was when you finally made your way to the Grand Narukami Shrine to see the Sacred Sakura. The largest shrine in all Inazuma, the books back home said, and the domain of Yae Miko.

“When I was younger, I couldn’t stand making these things. I always messed up making the initial shape.” Despite recounting her frustrations, Miko’s violet eyes were warm and her smile was fond but distant. You watched as she carefully pulled each cord one strand at a time. “Then on the occasions I’d get past that step, I’d always make them too tight or too lose. My aunt, Lady Saiguu, laughed at me once and I got so mad I had a tantrum and left the shrine.”

That made you snort. You tried to imagine it, a small Miko huffing and puffing about being unable to make a charm. “It’s hard to picture you being that immature. Or young.” You were sure the whole of the shrine would agree if they heard Miko’s story.

“I wasn’t immature, I was lively.” Miko replied petulantly but her amused expression told you it was in good fun. “She was so mad when she found me.” Miko continued on as if she weren’t interrupted by your commentary. “She said Mount Yougou was no place for a young kit to storm around angrily. No, she said if I was going to be a brat then I’d have to do it in the safety of the shrine.”

“Your aunt sounds like she was hilarious.” Was it just her personality or was it her nature as a kitsune? Maybe it was a mixture of both.

“Yes, she was.” A silence fell between the both of you as Miko finished yet another charm, cutting off the access cords, gluing the tips, and pinning them in place to dry before setting it down.

Your stomach lurched awkwardly. “For what it’s worth,” you began quietly. Comforting others was not your strong suit. “I think she’d be happy to see you took after her sense of humor.”

Miko smiled at your words. “Of course she would, I’m her darling niece.” As arrogant as the sentence was, her tone was warm and appreciative. “Eventually, I got better at it. She said the only way was practice instead of crying about it.” Clearly, you kept your bemused thought to yourself. Miko’s fingers were very nimble in her work. “She also said that the better I got at weaving the cords, my wishes would be woven into them and become eternal. Maybe that will make it a bit easier for you if you think of it that way.”

Weaving my wishes into the cords... You thought of your room back in the Academia dormitories. With that philosophy, if this was a thing back home it would be a ritual to pass your classes. You were sure this wasn’t the sort of wishes the shrine maiden’s aunt meant, however. This is a charm for couples, after all. I’m as single as it gets.

Living in the land of Eternity was an experience. You thought of a debate your class had once about the various ideals of the Seven.

Barbatos was so free that he left his nation to be at the mercy at whatever harsh wings. Murata’s ideal of war wasn’t preferable for many reasons. Morax’s contracts notion was understandable.

But the Raiden Shogun’s eternity? There was a lot of contempt from the professors. Wisdom doesn’t favor the eternal, they said. They were completely incompatible ideals. Eternity leads to Stagnancy leads to Complacency and Complacency leads to Death. If we were just twiddling our thumbs in Eternity, how would the races of Teyvat prosper? Wisdom is realizing the mistakes of the past and using that to better the future. 

Barbatos’ freedom is reckless abandon. What good are contracts and justice to the opinions and constantly wavering hearts of man? War has done nothing but cause anguish and eternity will be the death of all.

This is why our Lesser Lord Kusanali’s Wisdom is the best way for a nation to strive forward. She doesn’t want man to be ignorant babes dwaddling about senselessly. It’s beautiful, Wisdom is beautiful.

You couldn’t deny that you weren’t somewhat in agreement with that sentiment 

Complacency isn’t good. That you could agree with. You weren’t sure how Inazuma would last under it’s ideal, at least, not the way the Electro Archon went about things. The best way for the Teyvat to thrive was through knowledge, even if there was a lot of hiccups in the road at times because of it. But you’d come around since your arrival to Inazuma.

The ethereal blossoms of the Chinju Forest.

The comforting feeling of walking barefoot across the beach, kicking up sand and water as you made your way to Amakane Island.

The fleeting fireworks in summer that rocked the sky for merely a few heartbeats but remained clearly in your memory even now.

It isn’t good, but... You glanced at the woman finishing yet another ume musubi beside you. Eternity is beautiful too, in its own way.

Shakily you continued with your crafting before finally ー finally ー you finished. A small, two-cord, ume musubi that was white and pink. To think it took this long just to make something like this. “.... well at least it this was supposed to be my practice musubi.” It was far too lumpy to be sold for anything now.

Miko shook her head, “I think it looks rather nice.” 

You glanced at her numerous successful works. There was nothing remotely nice about the one you crafted. It looked like it had been in a fight more than a popular charm for couples hoping for their relationship to be long lasting. “I’ll just toss it and practice more at home.”

Miko shot you a playful look, practically snatching your charm away from you. “Throwing it away is absolutely forbidden.”

“Not if I’m the one who made it.” You replied holding your hand out expectantly. 

Rather than returning your mizuhiki, Miko simply placed one of her own in your palm. It was quite larger, nearly the size of your palm, five cords of red and white. Curious, you raised an eyebrow. “Ume musubi exchange.” Miko made it sound like it was obvious. “You take mine and I take yours and we both can be happy with what we think is fine work.”

Somehow you knew she wouldn’t be satisfied with any other decision. But it’s nice that she wants to keep it even if it totally sucks. “If it makes you that happy.”

A warm breeze blew and like a gentle storm, the cherry blossoms scattered in the wind. You always thought that the paintings you’d see of such things back home in books were exaggerated. Now you knew first hand that it wasn’t, there almost wasn’t enough sakura blooms whirling about. Against your wishes, you couldn’t help but spare a glance at your companion.

The sight of snowing sakura paled in comparison to the sight of sakura petals latching to pink hair and kitsune eyes smiling fondly at the scene around them. 

Spring is constantly blooming in Inazuma. You thought when you noticed a pair of eyes staring back at you.

You half expected Miko to tease you. ‘Oh? Sneaking a glance at the lovely Yae Miko? How scandalous!’ Instead, much to your surprise, Miko’s violet eyes sparkled and she held your gaze for a moment before winking and holding up your sorry excuse for a drying ume musubi near her open eye. “This is quite nice, it matches the falling sakura perfectly.”

Whether she was flattering you to soothe your bruised ego or the compliment was genuine, you weren’t sure. You decided to accept her comment as the latter. “This was fun, Miss Yae.” You said after a moment, thumb caressing your ‘reward’ gently.

“Miko.” The pink-haired woman corrected looking satisfied with herself. “It was, I enjoy your company. Next time I’ll pick something a bit easier to make until you feel more comfortable with this.” She looked at you expectantly and you almost would’ve pegged it for her usual smug air, but you thought you saw a freckle of hope in her eyes. Or maybe it was wishful thinking.

“I’ll make sure to clear my schedule, Miss-”

“Miko.” The shrine maiden looked unphased as she corrected your word choice once again. Now her expression was undeniably expectant.

Coming from Sumeru to Inazuma, it had been quite the abrupt change having to refer to everyone by their surnames unless otherwise given permission. Or until a level of closeness had been acquired where one party felt okay with being on a first name basis. It had become nearly habit at this point after so long of being here. 

Finally you relented, “Miko.” Your eyes stared back at electro purple colored eyes for a moment before you looked back at your gifted flower charm. “I’ll make sure to clear my schedule, Miko.”

Miko nodded, mostly to herself, pleased. She appraised your mizuhiki charm once more. “It really is nice for a first try. But,” at that moment, her usual look of mischief returned to her face. “you would have given yourself an easier time if you softened the cords a bit before you started shaping them and kept your fingers a third apart.”

You felt your eye twitch once before you erupted. “Why didn’t you tell me beforehand?!”

Miko’s grin was devilish, laughing at your look of betrayal. “I thought it was cute looking at you try so earnestly.”

“Ugh!” How you didn’t immediately squish your ume musubi, you weren’t sure. “I’m going before it gets dark!” You stormed off.

“Come visit soon!” Miko called after you airily with a giggle.

Later on, with your mizuhiki claimed and your annoyance subsided, you realized exactly what the kitsune woman. Stubbornly, you ignored the warm feeling settling in your chest as you looked over the ume musubi you were given. It really was a perfect charm for a botanist. A botanist who would be leaving for the Academia once the Sakoku Decree was lifted.

There was plenty of talk about it now that the Vision Hunt Decree was dispelled. It could be announced any day now and you’d have to put Inazuma behind you.

I have a lot to catch up on. And I still need to go to Watatsumi to begin gathering field notes on the plant life. Kaushik had sent you a letter weeks ago informing you it would be safe for you to join him and Anisa there for field research. Even Alrani somehow managed to get there. There was only so much time before you’d have to go home. School aside, your family and friends missed you terribly.

Yet despite the urgency, instead of hauling ass to Watatsumi Island, you kept making your way to Grand Narukami Shrine with varying excuses. You still had more you wanted to understand about the thunder sakura and they all lead back to the Sacred Sakura. You wanted an omamori for success that your thesis wouldn’t be rejected when you submitted it. 

Miko wasn’t available to see every time but when she was, that in itself felt like an award in your own right. When you’d catch eye and for the briefest moment, her air as the head shrine maiden dropped, and she briefly showed the playful woman she could be before going back to guuji mode.

Kusanali forbid it if you both met at the publishing house and found yourself talking about the latest books she was considering publishing. How she wanted your second opinion on them and she invited you to stop by the shrine once you were done.

You noticed the faint scent drifting from your charm and, with a sniff, recognized the soft smell of sakura. The smell made you sick with self-contempt with how you kept putting off advancing your career and studies over some puppy dog crush. I’m leaving for Watatsumi first thing in the morning. You set the charm aside and began packing your things.

But it would be mean to just leave without saying goodbye. You suspired knowing yourself too well. But this was it, your final trip scaling Mount Yougou. You placed Miko’s gift atop your clothes gently, but far enough that you couldn’t see it easily when you opened your bag. 

Eternity isn’t the nature of Sumeru. We’re constantly changing with everything we learn. You reminded yourself, knowing this was for the best regardless of whatever hung between you both and the beauty you managed to find in the slow moving tranquility of the country.

Wisdom comes first, the sages always emphasized. Wisdom above all else or how will you managed to be even a tenth as good a student as our greatest alumni?

Don’t make my mistakes, your mother urged when you left for Inazuma. It had constantly been brought up at family gatherings when people believed you weren’t listening how your mother had squandered everything away in Fontaine after marrying your father instead of finishing her course before their relationship soured and she took you back to her hometown. Whatever might come up, don’t let it become a distraction. You have so much potential. Other things can come later.

If this is what Inazuma did to me, imagine if I took Sayid’s advice and went to Mondstadt. You joked bitterly before you drifted to sleep, dreaming of electro-charged sakura petals and fox tails. 

It was a relief when, the next morning, Miko was too busy to entertain guests. You simply asked that the shrine maiden Miyuki pass your farewells on to the guuji when she was able to instead.

The guilt would pass eventually and eternity would continue on undisturbed. Wisdom will do the same.

[bloodycassian]

NEW SOUL - Reader x Azriel, SHORT. they share a child and deal with his growing powers as he ages. 

Your first outing as a family was unexpectedly exciting. Walking the streets of Velaris, Azriel pushing the carriage that held the Illyrian babe you had birthed only a few weeks ago seemed surreal. Nearly everyone parted ways for the stroller, often smiling down on the dark skinned boy that napped peacefully among the blankets and toys. 

Atreus -named after one of Azriel’s favorite constellations- had been quite the hectic child in his short life. Immediately after being born, he had swung his weak wings out so far that they ended up slapping a nurse beside Madja as she checked his vitals. Azriel was pale with nerves and terror about the entire process. He held your hand, squeezing back when he finally saw you holding his child in your arms. The boy’s crying stopped when he rested on your chest, his dark hair soft and curled against your skin. A tear slipped down the shadowsinger’s cheek. 

His first time holding his son, he trembled with fear. Only after you sat beside him did he allow himself to take Atreus from Madja. After that first time though, he had been inseparable from his child. Your child. Your family. 

Including while you stopped at a coffee shop to order for him because he dared not wake the babe. He cooed and shushed him, bouncing the stroller to keep him asleep. The smile on his face wasn’t of amusement or fun, it was of simple content and happiness. A pure joy that you’d only seen on his face a few times. 

+

The first two years were by far the hardest. Even with all the extra help from Azriel’s found family. As Atreus grew, so did the power he had inherited from his father. Something as simple as the child being hungry could turn any nearby toys or chairs into shadow, and dust. The first time it happened was with a bottle Azriel was trying to feed him. One moment it was in his hand as he tried to get Atreus to sip it, the next it was dark soot in Azriel’s hand.

It was worse at two. 

Any disagreement had Azriel winnowing him away before he could turn any more furniture into shadow. He never complained about it, but you could tell it was exhausting for him on the worse days. The days when nothing seemed to satisfy your child, and the only thing that would keep him from crying would be his uncles or aunts. 

Those were the days that you and Azriel would seek refuge alone high in the mountainside at a hot spring, just to decompress. He didn’t like leaving his son, but accepted that it was needed at times. With the added benefit of being able to properly make love to one another, it didn’t take much convincing to get him there. 

+

By the time he had grown into his wings, and was able to fly, Atreus was also able to winnow short distances just as his father could. Azriel monitored his growing abilities month to month, keeping in check his estimation of how many siphons he would likely need. At seven it was two, and rapidly growing. 

Your mate stayed up late at night sometimes after putting Atreus to bed. He would pace in front of the fireplace, worrying his hands and trying to see the future of what his son would be capable of. 

“Honey, just enjoy it now. While we have the time, let’s just not worry about it yet. Not until he needs one.” You consoled, rubbing between Az’s wings one night. 

“He’ll have competitors if he is ever known in Illyria. Some will try to kill him.” He said, cringing. You could feel the heat of rage down the bond and tried to latch on to it, to cool it. 

“That’s why he’s not training there. You three are by far the best trainers he could have, on top of being able to teach him how to manage his power.”

He sighed, and nodded. “Did you think that having my child would mean that half our furniture would disappear?” He laid back on the bed where you sat, his wing curling around your shoulder.

You kissed his forehead, “It helps the city’s growth.” 

He laughed, and pulled you down to his lips, kissing you lovingly, and wrapping his wings around you like a warm blanket.

[bridgertonbabe]

does teachers!benedict also start making little violet's birthday cake and that's when everyone finally believes sophie lmao

It would be during the second year of making little Violet's cake that Benedict's daughter insisted she baked with him. Even though he tried to tell her he was making the cake especially for her, all little Violet wanted was to spend time with her dad and honestly Benedict can't deny his little girl such a request. So little Violet helped her dad bake her own cake and she's very proud of the results (even if she's a little upset she had to wait until the next day at her party to eat it - though Benedict did sneak her some ice cream later on after dinner as a treat), especially with everyone complimenting it during her birthday.

"I helped make it!" she declared jubilantly.

"Aw! Were you mummy's little helper?" Violet's grandmother and namesake asked her.

"No! I was daddy's!" she proudly replied.

Poor little Violet was terribly confused when all the adults around her immediately burst into laughter, since Sophie's claims that Benedict had been baking the family's birthday cakes had become an ongoing joke at every single party.

"Why are you laughing?" the little girl frowned, starting to feel insecure that everyone was laughing at her when she didn't think she had said anything funny.

"I can't believe they've even got baby Vi in on it!" her uncle Colin guffawed to Michael.

"It's not funny!" Violet insisted as she quickly became upset at the thought of being the butt of a joke. "I baked my cake with my daddy!"

"Sure you did, Vi." Eloise snorted.

The group of adults continued to laugh until little Violet burst into tears, frustrated in her confusion of their laughter, and startling her aunts and uncles as a result from her sudden tears.

Naturally, the second Benedict heard his daughter's first sob, he hurried over right away, crouching down next to his little girl and pulling her into his arms to comfort her.

"Sweetheart, what ever is the matter?" he asked her, concerned with why his perfect little angel should be crying on her birthday. "Will didn't upset you, did he?" he enquired, noticing his mischievous son nearby and assuming he was the reason for Violet's tears.

"Will didn't do anything." his mother informed him.

"She just started crying out of nowhere." Hyacinth shrugged.

"Darling, why are you sad? You can tell me." Benedict gently consoled her and stroked her curly locks. 

“They were laughing at me!” she cried, her little face red from crying as she wiped her tears away with her hand. 

“I’m sure they weren’t laughing at you, baby.” he assured her as she sobbed against him, and he cocked a questioning brow at the surrounded group.

“We weren’t laughing at her.” Gareth explained. 

“She said she had baked her birthday cake with you.” Daphne elaborated. “That’s why we were laughing.” 

All at once Benedict understood the mishap. From his daughter’s perspective the adults were laughing at her, and from his siblings and in-laws’ perspective they were laughing at what they considered to be an ongoing joke. Though Benedict had had plenty of fun at his family’s expense with letting them continue to think Sophie was baking all the cakes, he now knew it was time to come clean. There was no way he was going to keep up the ruse, not with his little girl in tears. 

Benedict sighed, scooping the birthday girl up in his arms before he called his wife over. Sophie approached, speeding up once she saw Violet upset. 

“What’s happened?” Sophie asked, stroking her daughter’s back and kissing her tear-stained cheek. 

“Vi’s upset because they all laughed when she told them she had baked her cake with me.” Benedict explained. 

Sophie’s mouth hovered open before she gave her husband a telling look. 

“Ben, you’ve got to -”

“I know, I know. That’s why I called you over.” he nodded. “You’ve got the proof on your phone.” 

“What’s going on?” Simon frowned, puzzled with what wasn’t being said as Sophie produced her phone and tapped several times. 

“Much to my two favourite ladies’ annoyance, they’re telling you all nothing but the truth.” Benedict explained before Sophie showed the gathered group the photos she had taken the previous day of her husband and daughter mixing the cake batter as well as icing Violet’s cake. There was even a little video of Violet giggling as she blew flour into Benedict’s face, who then proceeded to kiss and nuzzle his face against his daughter’s in order to transfer some of the flour onto her as she squealed. 

“Oh my god - you actually made it!” Daphne gasped, her face mirroring the expressions of shock everyone else currently wore. 

“Not just this one. What Sophie’s said this past year is true. I’ve made all of the cakes for the last couple of years.” Benedict said as Sophie swiped through more photographic proof of him baking other cakes. 

Word quickly spread throughout the rest of the party of what had just come out and eventually Sophie had sent a dozen photos to the family group chat showing them that Benedict had become the cake-maker extraordinaire of the family. It took a while for the information to sink in, as well as the fact that without blatant proof not a single person had been willing to believe Benedict capable of such a thing. 

“See, I told you the truth would come out eventually.” Sophie told her husband later on that night as they got ready for bed. 

“To be honest, Soph, even if you had shown everyone those photos beforehand they would have assumed you had me pose for them. They still wouldn’t have believed you.” he grinned. “Though I wish it wasn’t the case, it really was because of our daughter’s tears that made them acknowledge the truth of it all.” 

“I still cannot believe you made our baby cry on her birthday.” 

“I didn’t make her cry!” Benedict expostulated. “And as soon as I realised why she was crying I put them all straight.”  

“But she wouldn’t have been crying at all had you come clean from the start when you made your mother’s birthday cake. Or if you had just admitted to it when nobody took my word for it.” 

“I’m sorry, love.” he sighed, though he was clearly still amused by it all. “You got to admit though, we did have our fun while it lasted.” 

“Though you do now realise, since it’s your fault our daughter cried on her birthday, that you now have to be taught a lesson.” Sophie said, trawling a finger down his chest. 

“Is that so?” Benedict replied, unable to wipe the look of excitement off of his face before Sophie shoved him down onto the mattress.

[sciderman]

Was going through some old writing files (of which there are hundreds!!) and stumbled across a high school AU I was writing a while ago! (an actual one! not a tantalising dream-sequence involving cheerleaders, though we all know I love those...) 

I don’t know if I’ll resurrect it, but there’s a bit of fun to be had - Peter’s anger issues are something that I’d like to see explored more in spideypool fic, and I just... I love high school AUs okay... 

Read some of it under the cut! 

-----------------------

“What’re you in for?”

“Something stupid.” Peter grumbled.

“Love it.” The boy said, grinning. Peter noticed a missing tooth. “I hid a frog in the student counsellor’s desk. You should’ve seen him scream.” 

Peter was quiet, but his lips quirked. 

“Immature”, he eventually said. 

“The guy’s a dickhole. And,” the blond rocked on his chair, buzzing, “technically, I saved a life.” 

Peter raised an eyebrow. 

“Saved the frog from one of the labs. They were gonna slice him open. Imagine you’re just sitting on your lily pad one day. Chilling. And then some jackass scientist scoops you up and cuts you open. Starts prodding inside you. Gross.” 

“Okay, yeah, gross.” 

“My name is Wade, bee-tee-dubs.” 

Wade. Peter remembered. He’d only joined the class at the beginning of last semester, and sat near the back of the class. He hadn’t recognised him by his face because he’d always had his hood up. Not that Peter had ever paid enough attention to his peers to remember them by face anyway.

“Uh.” Peter said, eyeing the hand he was being offered as a greeting. He didn’t return the handshake, but he responded with a simple “I’m Peter.” 

“Cool.” Wade nodded, looking at his feet, heels bouncing off the linoleum floor. His shoes were scuffed and worn. 

A moment of silence passed. Both boys turned their attention to the floor, as though it were suddenly the most interesting feature of the room. 

Peter side eyed his company, in the moment of quiet. There were shallow craters on the boy’s face, Peter noticed, like chickenpox scars that hadn’t fully healed. Wade definitely seemed conscious about it, with his hood being nearly always drawn, and his shaggy hair that often covered his face. 

“Peter Parker.” The principal called, peering through the door at the boys. The principal glared at Wade, who put up his hands in response. Clearly Wade was a regular. 

A wave of smugness came over Peter, who leant in close to Wade. 

“I broke Flash Thompson’s arm.” Peter whispered, before standing up to enter the principal’s office. For a second Peter saw Wade’s face light up, like that was the coolest thing he had ever heard. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------

“Mr Parker, I recognise you’re going through a tough time – And I’m sorry.”

Peter sank in his chair, eyes fixed on a hole puncher sat on the desk.

“I understand you must be going through a lot of emotions at the moment, but you,” the principal wrung his hands, “you hospitalised one of your classmates. Eugene Thompson –” 

The principal’s voice faded in and out of Peter’s attention. As usual, he stood alone on Planet Peter Parker. 

He thought about Aunt May. Her eyes, pink and puffy. Thin hands trembling as she held them by her mouth, recounting all she remembered about that night to the police. The police, who with empty looks, mechanically took down notes. Jaded. Like a family hadn’t been just destroyed. Like a good man hadn’t just been murdered in cold blood. 

Peter's uncle was a humble man. Simple, but good. He wasn't ambitious, or gifted, or clever. But he was wise. 

Clever. Wise. Peter hadn't understood there was a difference between the two. 

He took him for granted, Peter admitted to himself, as he cried that night, and the days following. He cried for the first time in months. Months of distancing himself from the world, before the world decided to stage a head-on-head collision with him. 

“Peter? Peter, are you listening?” 

Peter at last looked up, and with the movement, a tear managed to escape his eye. He brought the heel of his palm up quickly to wipe it away. 

“Look, son, I want you to see the student counsellor tomorrow.” The principal said, taking down a note. Peter scowled at the pen, as it scribbled. “It will help, Peter. I want you to see the counsellor every Tuesday and Friday, last period. We’ll keep track of your healing process.” 

Peter took the note when it was offered to him, and pocketed it without a word. He turned to leave.

“Peter. I didn’t dismiss you.” 

Peter sighed, turning back, red-eyed and tired. 

“I’m sorry about your uncle. But when Eugene returns, you will apologise.” 

Peter swallowed, voice quiet when at last he spoke. “I didn’t mean to hurt him.” 

Whether that was true or not, Peter was still undecided on. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The school day dragged at an excruciatingly slow pace. Peter couldn’t hear the teacher. All he could hear, all day, were the whispers amongst his peers. Right now, Peter wished the walls he built to keep the world out were soundproofed. 

“Did you hear? He put Flash in the ER.” 

“Puny Parker? No way.” 

“He’s an absolute freak.” 

“He’s probably really screwed up right now, guys. I think his like, Uncle died or something.” 

Peter snapped his pencil. 

“Can I be excused, miss?” 

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Peter ran as fast as he could out of the school doors, gasping in air as deeply as he could. He was at his breaking point. If everyone in class saw him crying, he’d really never hear the end of it. He’d be seeing the school councillor until he graduated. 

The air was cool but his face was scalding hot, tears streaming down his cheeks. He buried his face in both hands and screamed. With all the effort he could afford he tried to steady his breathing. In and out, in and out, until he started to feel lightheaded. 

He could’ve broken the school doors off its hinges. He could have slammed his fists so hard on the walls, until they crumbled, or he did. 

He threw a kick so hard on a nearby trash can that it flew across the courtyard.  

He hated this school. He could’ve tore it down right where he stood. 

“Dude.” 

Peter turned so fast his head nearly knocked off his shoulders. Wade stood, back against the wall, casual as anything. He had a cigarette in hand. 

“You’re an animal, dude.” Wade said, blowing out a cloud of smoke. 

Peter’s mouth hung open, finding it difficult to find words. He brought up a sleeve to wipe up his face. 

“I, just. I –” 

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I hate this place.” 

Wade nodded, a calm demeanour about him that almost served to calm Peter by osmosis. 

Peter Parker was always a very rational boy. Quiet. Reserved. He never lost it like this. He’s never –

“I heard – about your uncle.” 

Peter’s eyes were exhausted from crying, he couldn’t afford anymore tears. Peter’s entire body felt it was going to sink through the earth. And Wade could see it. Wade could see it on Peter’s face. He looked to Wade for mercy. To let him fall off the planet’s surface. 

“Listen, if it were me I’d – I’d kill him. I’d kill whoever did it.” 

Peter was quiet. Wade’s words felt like an electric jolt, sobering him up. 

All the hollow words of consolation had left him numb, but this rang through Peter’s ears. 

Eventually Peter found his voice again. 

“You’d kill him, but you’d save a frog?” 

“Yeah.” Wade said, as if it were obvious. “The frog didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Silence followed. Peter couldn’t look up from the ground. His hands formed fists at his sides. 

All the way home, Wade’s words replayed in Peter’s head. I’d kill him. I’d kill whoever did it. 

The police were apathetic. Crimes go unsolved. And that made Peter’s blood boil hotter than it ever had. The thought that someone – out there – would be getting away with it. 

That Aunt May might always carry that hollow, broken look in her eyes.  

Later that night, Peter threw on a red hoodie, pulling the drawstrings tight. He snuck out his bedroom window, like he did every night. 

News reports tell of an escaped robber cornered in a building downtown.

[athena-simpingforanimemen]

Something to Consider

Chapter One | Sometime In 2007

Chapters| One Two Three Four Five

Synopsis| Having a special technique that hasn’t been passed down in over a 100 years, you’ve been amongst the strongest since birth but with no clan of your own to clam this technique. It causes the Clans to offer arranged marriages left and right. Overwhelmed parents turn to your aunt's clan and the Zenin’s are happy to step in, in hopes you will pass down the technique down to them.

Whole story contains themes| arranged marriage, angst, violence, death, swearing? sexual harassments(nothing crazy) and of course SMUT. 

Authors note| This is about the road to marrying Gojo, it’s gonna be long and filled with angst because I'm mean. This story starts with the reader being around 11ish. Has a little bit of manga spoilers from vol.8 because it has Toji. Hope you like it. This is written for my two whore best friends. :)

Sitting in the back of a black sedan, the rain and some random talk radio station playing softly. The sounds of the rain on the roof made you sleepy. You let out a sigh, pressing your head against the window, watching as the water droplets race. You had just gotten out of school when you heard your mothers fussing through the thick wood of the front door. Not even getting the chance to greet her, she was already on you about changing into something nice; tossing clothes around in a hurry. Your father on the other hand was calm, casually chatting with you while your mother rushed around in a tizzy.

You didn’t have the time to ask what this was about or why you needed to hurry before your mother pushed you into the car with Suzuki. Suzuki was your personal driver and bodyguard appointed by the Zenin clan. She was always so kind and patient, putting up with your snappy comments and pre-teen attitude. Even when you were being difficult she never got upset with you. You never understood why she was appointed to such a low grade job. She was incredibly strong. What was all the fuss about you and your technique anyway?

Suzuki taking you to the Zenin Estate after school was a common occurrence, usually it was for training but today it seemed more important than just that. You were your parents' prized possession because the Zenin clan convinced them of it. Your parents weren’t sorcerers but your mothers family was long ago. They possessed The Divine Panther, it hadn’t been passed down in over 100 years and by some miracle you got it. The Zenin’s took the opportunity, hoping you would pass it down into their clan but that wasn’t completely up to them. Not like they treated you like you were special. Pushing you so hard to master your technique while most of them looked down upon you. Most likely because your cursed energy was “weird” as Noaya said. Most of the youth are scared to train with you. So why train when everyone is already scared of you in the first place? The Zenin’s didn’t even fully understand your technique or so they say but they knew you were strong. Special grade strong, up there with the six eyes. “But just appearing strong isn’t the same as being strong.” Noaya would always say to you. I’m sure someone older and wiser than him told him that. Those words are far too sophisticated for a boy like him. 

“Where are we even going, Suzuki-san?” you ask, moving your head from the window. 

She looked at you through the rearview mirror as she spoke. “We are headed to the Zen’in residence, they wanted you to attend a clan meeting. Did your parents not tell you?” 

You shake your head, crossing your arms. “No, they were too busy picking out clothes and telling me how to properly greet people, like I don't know how to.”  Shifting your kimono as you grumble. “I’m not even a Zenin. Why do they want me there?” 

“I’m sure they just want to include you.” She smiled in assurance.

She wasn’t wrong, but for some reason you didn’t like the feeling you got. It wasn’t that they wanted to include you in a clan meeting. The clan meeting was about you. They wanted you to marry one of theirs for the gain of power but they weren’t the only clan that wanted it. It was like a bidding war. It wasn’t really up to them, it was up to your parents in the end and the Zenin’s would do anything to sway them their way. A nice home, the best schools, private drivers. It was all just a ploy to get them to agree to an arranged marriage. 

The soft sound of the radio and the rain made the ambiance of the car relaxing, distracting you from the scenery slowly turning  into landmarks you didn’t recognize, the winding road getting more and more wooded as she drove. 

“Well, now where are we going?” You question, bringing your attention up to her. “You’re not gonna murder me right?” 

Your comment makes her chuckle. “No, I wouldn't dream of it!” The car turned into a long driveway. “I forgot to mention I had to stop at Jujutsu High to pick up Gojo Satoru.”

“A Gojo? I thought you worked for the Zenins?” Your little eyebrows furrow as you settle back into your previous position against the window. Looking at the well manicured landscaping as The car comes to a stop outside a large stair walkway that looks like it leads far into the woods. 

“I work for a few people. I have to drop him off for something.” 

“Something? Like what?”

“Well, that is not my business.” She shrugged. 

Your attention was brought to the stairs, watching as a tall, white haired boy ran down the steps with his hands in his black uniform. He looked smug wearing sunglasses in the rain. His cursed energy grew stronger as he approached the car. Your head turned back to the window as he got closer. Seconds later the car door opened. Watching his reflection in your window as he got in. His cursed energy was strong, stronger than yours. You could see him look over at you through the reflection of the car window. 

“Oh man, it's really pouring isn't it Suzuki-San?” He said, leaning forward to greet her. 

He smelled like expensive cologne and hard candies. Almost like he had melted ones in his pocket. Suzuki turned around to look at him with an expression you have never seen. 

“Hello, Gojo.” She smiled, leaning her arm on the middle console. 

Your head still resting against the car window, watching the interaction. Pre-teen angst stirring around your aura. This isn’t worth missing your favorite show and you have to talk to people you don’t really like in the most uncomfortable kimono to ever exist. Now you have to watch Suzuki swoon over this Gojo guy. You had a good feeling he might be annoying, usually you’re pretty good at reading people and he seemed full of himself. The whole thing makes you want to just jump out of the car. 

He leaned back in his seat as Suzuki started driving. He gave off an interesting energy to say the least, intimidating in a way but you felt a childishness that radiated off of him making you assume he couldn’t be much older than you. Not only that, he was texting someone; the clicking of his phone slightly irritating.  Yeah, you weren’t a fan. He definitely was going to be annoying. 

“You shouldn’t run down stairs with your hands in your pockets.” You stated.

Watching his fuzzy reflection pause, his attention moving to you. A smile grew on his face as he looked at you. All angsty and pretending to be uninterested. Don’t think you're the only one who can feel cursed energy and read people. He felt yours far before he got into the car and by the looks of it, you would be fun to mess with.

“Hm and why is that?” He placed his phone in his lap. What an interesting way to greet a stranger. 

“You really don’t know?” You looked over at him with a scowl, only to be met with an amused smile and sunglasses. 

“Nope.” he shook his head. “You shouldn’t start a conversation so harshly. Maybe try with your name next time.”

Oh, another Naoya? Fun. You thought. The way he spoke was like he was mocking you. So smug like you should be grateful to be in his presence and you couldn’t stand it. “You shouldn’t wear sunglasses inside, it's rude, plus it's raining.” 

His eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. “It is raining, good job kid.” 

“Whatever.” You turned away. Mostly to stop yourself from starting something that would get you in trouble. 

“You know.” he pondered, finger tapping his chin. “If you treat people this way, you won't find a husband.” You felt him lean over to you, hand resting uncomfortably close to your leg but moving away would let him know you were affected by his actions and the more you react the more they keep being annoying. You learned that from Naoya.

“Oh, I don’t want one.” You stated, looking at him. “I-um.”  The second part of your snarky comment dying on the tip of your tongue. The edges of his lips turned up into a cheeky smirk, crystal blue eyes and white eyelashes peaking over the rim of his black sunglasses. In all honesty It made you shut up, his closeness made you lose your edge and Gojo ate it up. He noticed how your posture changed ever so slightly, shifting around nervously as you tried to remember your sarcastic comment. Gojo was right, you would be fun to tease. 

“Go on?” He teased, leaning ever so slightly closer to you. You didn’t answer. Scrunching your nose at him. His close proximity made you blush. Why did that make you nervous? It’s not like he was that handsome. (This is a lie, he is very handsome. Unfortunately.) 

“Satoru.” Suzuki’s soft voice cut in, her head shaking lightly as she looked at the pair of you through her mirror. Her expression was sharp as Gojo made eye contact with her. He then looked back at your flush face before falling back against his seat with a sigh. Suzuki’s looks speak a thousand words but she must have known him well for her to address him like that. You were just grateful she saved you, the blush on your face fading while the sounds of talk radio filled the silence in the car.

Your thoughts brought you to the Zen’in clan meeting. You really didn’t care too much about these things, everyone was always so pretentious, always going on about something you pretended to listen to.  Noaya was the worst, of the younger ones that is. Always bullying everyone, especially the girls. He was so vulgar about it too but It didn’t bother you the way he wanted or at least you didn’t show it. Plus it was too much fun to watch his reactions. Boys like him need to be kicked down a peg or two anyway. A/N:(Or be pegged..hehehe)

“Suzuki-san? Do you think Noaya will be there today?” You question breaking the silence. 

“I’m sure he will, why do you ask?” 

“No reason.” you sigh.

Gojo glanced over at you. “Is that your boyfriend or sumin’?” 

“Ew No.” You shook your head. “He calls me a dog or... other things.. So, I bite him.”

“Ya’ one of those weird kids?” He chuckled.

“No. But if you're going to call someone a dog, don't act surprised when they bite you.” You shrug. He was silent, looking at you over his glasses with amusement— you did have a point.

“You’re kinda proving my point here.”

“If you knew him you would understand, he definitely deserves it.” 

“Mhm.” Gojo nodded, turning back to his phone. It was quiet again before he spoke. 

“Well, he's probably just got a crush on you.” 

“Ugh, I hope not.” You say with disgust. “Plus, I don't think you would say the things he says to someone you like.” 

“Like what?” 

“I’d rather not repeat them.” 

The car parking ended your conversation. You had stopping in a part of town you’ve never seen, It was fairly creepy. No bus stops or open stores, just abandoned stores and warehouses. You heard Gojo let out a small sigh before he unbuckled and opened the door, the sound of the rain filled the car as he got out.

“Where are you going?” you ask. “Why are you getting out here? It's creepy.” 

You had leaned over the middle seat to speak to Gojo, looking up at his tall frame as he stepped out. “Wait? Don’t tell me you actually like me?” He said, you could practically hear the smirk on his lips as he spoke.

“No, I’m just concerned for my own safety.” You said, smiling up at him a teasing glint in your eye. He chuckled, straightening his jacket as he bent down to look at you. Your Seat-Belt stretched as far as it could go in to speak with him. And for the second time since meeting him he makes you blush. His eyes locked with yours as he spoke, his tone no longer filled with its usual teasing nature. 

“That's probably a good thing.” He smiled, swinging the door shut. 

[beekindacool]

Remus Lupin x Reader

Gender: female (she/her)

Word count: 2033

TW: none

You sat in the Gryffindor common room, just right in front of the fire. Behind you sat your dear friend, Lily Evans. The two of you had known one another since pretty much birth. Your mothers were best friends and you had followed in their steps. It was pure luck that you and Lily had turned out to be witches together. Even more luck when you were both sorted into Gryffindor. Now, though, you were in your sixth year.

You looked over to Lily, she was finishing up her Potions homework when James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew obnoxiously came running down the stairs from their dorm rooms.

“Ladies! Lovely evening, innit?” Sirius hummed, dancing towards you and Lily. You scrunched up your nose slightly, mocking a face of disgust. In actuality, you enjoyed the presence of The Marauders, despite how over-the-top they could be. After all, they had been there for Lily after the fallout with Snape last year.

James scooted himself over next to Lily, he tried wrapping an arm around her shoulder but she shooed him away, a smile was undeniably growing on her face. Yes, Lily was into James but she always denied it.

Sirius made a comment, teasing them probably but you had turned your attention towards Remus. You didn’t realize it before but he stood next to you now.

“It’s painful watching those two, really!” The tall boy whisper-yelled to you, letting out a chuckle afterwards. You never really paid any mind to Remus. He was always a bit more quiet than James and Sirius. Peter, too, with all his anxious fits.

You studied his face for a bit, noticing the long pink scar that went across his face. His deep blue eyes that looked sad despite the small smile he had on. The light stubble on his chin. The way his hair was wavy and sort of swooped over like in the movies. Remus Lupin was *really* pretty.

Remus cleared his throat just loud enough for you to snap out of your daze. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment.

“I’m... I am so sorry. Merlin, I did not mean to come off as creepy or anything I just! I-“ You were cut off by Remus.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/L/N. It’s okay to be curious about my scars.” He consoled, patting your shoulder with his hand lightly.

Your time with Remus was cut short when James called for him as the rest of the boys were leaving through the painting. Remus said a quick goodbye and jogged towards his friends.

Letting out a sigh, you sat next to Lily and she laid her head in your lap. You played with her fiery red locks as she rambled on about James being absolutely ridiculous.

Later that night, you still sat in the common room but now alone. You laid on the couch and watched the dying fire. You thought about Remus: his hand in yours, cuddling, etc. All that romantic cheesy stuff. You couldn’t help it, it was the hopeless romantic in you.

As if on cue, though, The Marauders entered the common room again. James and Sirius greeted you and ran back into their dorms, giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls as Peter followed behind them. Remus didn’t follow them, instead he came over to you. Quickly, you sat up straight and made room for Remus. He sat down on the opposite side and turned his whole body towards you, lifting his knees up to his chest.

For the next hour, you and Remus talked about almost anything and everything. It was easy to get comfortable with him, everything about him made you feel warm and at home.

After that night in the common room, the two of you became almost attached to the hip when he wasn’t hanging out with The Marauders. He eventually trusted you enough to tell you about his “condition”. Remus was with you all throughout seventh year, too. And with each moment you spent with him, the more you fell in love with him.

It was Lily and James’ wedding day. You were the maid of honor and Sirius was the best man. The wedding was a small one; James’ parents, Remus, and Peter being the only others to attend due to the first war.

The summer breeze gently tousled Lily’s hair. She looked just like a princess would. The top of the dress hugged her torso and flowed out into a tea length. It was a little simple but easy to move in. You wore a light lemony yellow dress, it was an a-line with a small cape over it.

The ceremony had quickly ended and all of you went to Lily and James’ home to eat dinner. The whole night was full of laughter and utter joy, everyone was able to forget about the terrors outside for just a little bit.

That night, Remus took you home.

“I hope you know you looked absolutely beautiful tonight, Y/N. Really.” He commented as the two of you got to your doorstep. Remus had a cheeky smile on his face and he shifted awkwardly as he waited for a response.

“Thank you. You looked really handsome too, you git.” You let out a small laugh and avoided eye contact with Remus, your face was undeniably as red as a cherry.

He gently held your cheek with one hand, making you look at him. Remus pursed his lips for a moment before speaking again.

“C-can I kiss you?” He stuttered out, wincing as his voice cracked just a bit. You couldn’t help but grin ear to ear at him, he was absolutely adorable. You nodded though and leaned up, pulling Remus into a kiss. It was sweet. He was sweet. Remus tasted like chocolate.

After that, you and Remus dated for a bit. About three years, actually. It was going absolutely perfect with Remus until Lily and James had been murdered. It broke your heart. Both of your hearts.

You tried making your relationship work after the war. It just didn’t feel the same anymore with no Lily, no James, no Peter, or Sirius.

It was a mutual decision to split. Remus moved away to Merlin knows where. He didn’t send any owls. He didn’t contact you at all afterwards. You couldn’t blame him.

Things eventually began looking up for you as years passed. Dumbledore sent you an owl, offering you a teaching position as the new charms professor and had also mentioned Harry Potter would be attending as a first year. Without a second thought, you accepted.

Now, it was your third year teaching at Hogwarts. You were so unbelievably proud of Harry with the things he had accomplished in his first and second year. You were close with him, always telling him stories about Lily and James. Harry considered you his aunt... at least one he actually liked.

You sat in the Great Hall, waiting for the other professors to arrive. You were excited to find out who the next DADA professor was. Or anxious? The last two you met were interesting to say the least... one being a traitor and the other being a fraud. Becoming bored of waiting, though, you began to doze off.

Next thing you knew, Snape was sitting next to you and dug his elbow into your rib, causing you to let out a quiet curse. He not-so-discreetly motioned over to a man sitting at the opposite end of the dining table. You thought it was Remus.

Snape knew that you and Remus had been in a relationship. You told him everything. He apologized for everything that had happened in the past. You couldn’t fully forgive him, not after he had become a death eater. You were able to tolerate him enough, though.

“Is that... Lupin? Remus Lupin?” You asked Snape slowly, unsure if whether or not your eyes were deceiving you. Snape let out a low yes.

And on cue, Dumbledore stood up and introduced the man you loved for all these years. You watched as he did an awkward bow to the students. He was so handsome still. When he sat back down, you could’ve sworn he looked back at you for a second.

After everyone was finished with their meals, students were the first to leave the Great Hall, leaving the professors to mingle for a bit before their first classes.

You tried staying close to Snape, acting as if you were busy but that didn’t stop Remus from coming up to you.

“Professor Y/L/N. It’s been quite some time! You’re looking well.” Remus cheerily greeted, his hands were dug in his pockets as he looked you up and down, obviously checking you out.

“I’m right here too, you know...” Snape hissed, one side of his top lip slightly curled in disgust. Remus threw his hands up and acted as if he was surprised to see Snape.

“Merlin! Sniv- I mean Snape. Hello!” Remus chuckled, he looked at you as you tried stifling giggles. You remembered when The Marauders would call Snape “Snivellous”.

Snape, finding Remus to be unfunny, scoffed and left to prepare for his Potions class. Now, it was just you and Remus. It was awkward.

“How’ve you been?” You finally asked, your voice became softer. You knew he had a hard time finding work because of his lycanthropy.

“I’m... I’m better than how I was last time we saw one another.” His voice wavered a bit, your last memories together were painful to remember.

“I missed you. I hope you know that.” You choked out, pulling him in for a hug. Your forehead was pressed against his chest and arms wrapped around his waist. You felt him hesitate but Remus stroked your hair.

The two of you were interrupted when Dumbledore cleared his throat. “It’s time for your classes, professors.”

“We’ll talk later, okay Y/N?” Remus pulled away from you and ruffled your hair a little bit before setting off to class. You waited a few moments before setting off yourself.

The whole day you thought about Remus. You were unsure about whether or not you were excited to talk or if you were going to explode from nervousness.

After dinner and students were sent to their dorms, you met with Remus in the library. The two of you sat at a table in the back corner. It used to be where you held your study dates with him.

“Right... where should we start?” He asked, folding his hands over the table. You could tell he was nervous.

“Have you been seeing anybody?” You blurted out, it was the first thing that came to your mind.

“No. No, I haven’t seen anybody since you.” Remus chuckled, raking a hand through his hair. He hesitated before speaking again.

“In all honesty Y/N, I couldn’t bring myself to be with anyone else. You were the only girl I’d ever loved. The only one I still love.” He said softly, lowering his head. You wanted to cry. To scream. To jump into his arms. Anything.

“I... I feel the same way. I love you still. Even after all these years. I always will.” You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

You felt tears start dripping from your eyes. It was barely noticeable at first but then they had just coming out like a faucet. Remus stood up, panicking.

“What’s wrong, darling?” He asked, picking you up and sitting you on the edge of the table. Remus stood in between your legs and wiped your tears best he could.

“I just missed you so much,” you choked out in between sobs, “I thought about you everyday and here you are standing right in front of me again. It’s all I’ve ever wanted since forever.”

Remus let out a soft laugh and shook his head. He took your face in his hands and kissed you. It was desperate and passionate. You tried making up for all the kisses you missed over the past thirteen years.

You were ready to build a future with Remus again. You were going to make it work with him through thick and thin.

[farfromharry]

The one without the suit | Peter’s girl

Summary: Peter doesn’t know where to go when Mr Stark takes his suit away from him after the ferry incident so he comes to you. You spend the rest of the night comforting the distraught boy.

Word count - 2746

Warnings - language? i don’t think there’s anything else

A/n - i’m gonna try and do regular updates for this again, but it probably won’t happen😳

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

It all kept replaying in Peter’s head, all those people he’d put in danger just because he couldn’t let this go. Even you had told him he needed to stop, so why couldn’t he?

He sat and stared into the water with a frown, his legs dangling over the side of the building while his mask sat beside him on the ledge. God how had he messed up so bad, Mr Stark must be so angry.

Speaking of, he heard the suit before he saw it, his eyes squeezing shut as he braced himself to get yelled at by his mentor. Swinging his legs over the side and beginning to head in the direction of where the iron man suit stood, probably empty of the real Tony Stark, just like the time at the lake.

The words he was saying- yelling, weren’t really registering in the boy’s head, Peter was wanting nothing more than to skip the lecture and just apologise to the man for everything he’d caused. He didn’t even really care how this was going to affect him, not while he didn’t know the aftermath of the boat. 

“Is everyone okay?”  That was all he really cared about, knowing that no one had gotten hurt all because he screwed up, again. 

“No thanks to you.” 

The next few minutes had been a blur of Peter raising his voice angrily, finding it very difficult to believe that even after all that happened where he’d just tried to help, Mr Stark was still blaming this entirely on him. He remembered apologising profusely, not seeing the anger in Mr Stark’s eyes falter for even a second.

“I’m gonna need the suit back.” He felt like his entire body was shutting down, his heart shattering and a lump building in the back of his throat. Peter begged him, trying to change his mind with empty promises that meant nothing.

“F-For how long?”

“Forever.”

That one word kept repeating in the boy’s mind.  Forever. He was never getting the suit back, God he fucked up again. Walking down the streets of New York in clothes that weren’t his own was probably mortifying on a normal day, but he felt like there was a cloud of shame hanging over his head that everyone could see, and that was much worse.

He didn’t know where his feet were taking him at first, making the subconscious decision that he wasn’t yet ready to go home to his aunt in this state. Peter wasn’t sure if he’d ever been this disappointed or embarrassed with himself. He managed to fuck up so bad that the Tony Stark, his idol, his mentor, took away his suit. 

He was disappointed in him. 

Granted Peter was only a kid, heck he was still a teenager, but he felt like he owed it to Tony to be the best, to be better and apparently Mr Stark thought so too. 

He was growing increasingly self conscious walking through the streets of Queens in clothing they’d gotten from lost and found at the ferry dock. He probably should’ve gone home. May was definitely worried sick about him right now, but he didn’t have the strength to go and face a lecture when all he wanted to do was curl into a ball and let his emotions out.

He had to stop for a minute to realise that he’d been walking to your apartment on instinct. 

It felt like a second nature for Peter now to go to your window every time he was in need of help.

But it hurt him in a way he couldn’t explain when he realised he was unable to swing his way up there, not having either of his suits or his web shooters. The boy sniffled quietly, deciding he was just going to have to show up at your front door, hopefully not disturbing your parents.

He took the elevator up, giving him a chance to think everything over again, the boy deciding he needed some kind of distraction at least to ease his mind. His feet carried him from the elevator to your apartment door, the boy knocking before he'd even registered he was doing so.

“I’ll get it,” you yelled. You paused the movie you were watching on the TV, getting up from the couch. You didn’t bother to check you looked presentable, assuring yourself it was probably just your neighbour, she was a very old lady that often forgot the keys to her apartment and would always ask if she could use your spare that your parents had made just for this situation.

You grabbed the key that resided in a bowl beside your front door, pulling it open with a small smile on your lips. “Forgot your keys again Mrs Ka- Oh, Peter hi.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows slightly as you stared at the distraught expression that had overtaken your friend’s face. He sniffled slightly, his head raising from where his eyes were locked on the floor. You stepped forward and carefully placed your hand on his arm.

“Pete, what’s wrong?” you asked. His eyes were bloodshot and dark when he looked at you, the boy looking like a kicked puppy. Your heart ached just at the sight of him.

“He took my suit,” he whispered, so quietly you didn’t hear him. You stepped closer, placing your hand on his cheek gently.

“What?” 

“Mr Stark took my suit, I let him down.” 

That was the final straw for him. He let out a heart wrenching sob, falling into your arms utterly broken. You weren’t sure what you were meant to do, having never seen him in such a state, so you simply wrapped your arms around him and cradled his head against your chest.

With all the hugs you’d shared with Peter, he’d never held you so tightly, but he’d also never been so upset in view of another person, not even May. Not when his parents died and not when his Uncle Ben died, his tears were restricted to the eyes of him and him only. 

His crying had obviously alerted your mother, seeing her head pop in to look in the living room where you were cradling a crying Peter. She raised her eyebrows, her eyes softening out of motherly concern.

She took your word for it when you just shook your head, promising you’d help him and stay with him until he calmed down.

“Come on, Pete.” You helped the boy up off of the floor and towards your room. He’d been in your room plenty of times over the past few weeks so he took it upon himself to crash on your bed instantly. You didn’t know what to do, you’d never had to deal with consoling a superhero that got their suit taken away from them, so you didn’t fully understand what that suit meant to Peter, even if you did know how much he enjoyed being Spiderman. 

“Peter, I-“ you sighed, sitting on the bed beside his exhausted body. “I’m sure you didn’t disappoint Mr Stark.” 

He scoffed, running his hands over his face exasperatedly. His heart was aching. “You didn’t see it in his eyes. You didn’t hear it.”

Your heart ached listening to the words muffled by the covers of your bed. You could hear his quiet sniffles as he tried to calm himself down, the deep breaths not doing much of the sort. You took a seat beside him awkwardly, your nose scrunching up when you caught a whiff of the boy’s unusual scent.

Your mind told you that a hot bath might help him, as it was always a comfort to you when you were having one of your days. You gently laid your hand on his back, rubbing over the material of his shirt softly for a few moments before you suggested your idea. 

“Why don’t you go take a hot bath? They help me when I’m down,” you said, seeing him turn his face to the side on the bed so he could look at you. “Plus you smell like garbage,” you teased. 

He clearly wasn’t in much of a joking mood when he simply stood up with a nod of his head, his eyes still morphed into puppy dog eyes. You flashed him a tight lipped smile, mentally scolding yourself for how badly your attempt at lightening the mood had gone. 

»»——⍟——««

You’d generously offered to wash Peter’s hair for him when he stated that he didn’t think he was up to it. He was flustered as he agreed, listening to your promises about just washing his hair for him, no peeking or anything, and then you’d be out of there. 

“You promise you won’t look?” he asked, a stern look in his eyes as he wasn’t sure he could do this if you even took as much as a tiny peek. You rolled your eyes, cursing him for having no faith in you. “Peter, I don’t even want to look.”

He seemed to take offense to those words too, his nose scrunching in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

You huffed at his childish behaviour, telling him there was not a single chance you were about to have this discussion with him about why you didn’t want to see his dick, that was a whole other story.

Eventually he took your word and headed for the bathroom, calling you in when he was ready and sure you wouldn’t be exposed to anything you didn’t want to see.

“Thank you,” he whispered, sending you a genuine smile as you lathered up the coconut scented shampoo on your hands. You shook your head, dismissing his thanks by telling him it was just what friends did. Maybe not all friends, as you couldn’t imagine too many people had to console their superhero friend after their hero suit was taken away from them by their billionaire mentor. So maybe it was just a you and Peter thing. 

He hummed quietly as your fingers threaded through his locks, gently tugging when your fingers would encounter some kind of tangle. You muttered apologies under your breath but they went unheard by the boy who looked as though he was in complete bliss.

“Pete.” It took him a few seconds to hear you calling his name, his eyes snapping up to yours with a shy, apologetic smile. You giggled at his shyness, gently guiding his head to tip backwards so you could wash the soap from his hair.

You repeated the process of washing and rinsing one more time to ensure he no longer smelled like dirty garbage, before leaving him to finish up and dry off in your bathroom.

You started to worry when he began taking his time, scared that something bad had happened, even though you knew he was able to take care of himself.

But your worries died down when he came out of the bathroom with the same clothes he’d worn earlier, pulling a small amused smile from you at the sight of him in hello kitty pyjamas.

“You okay?” you asked, noting that he hadn’t yet said a word since emerging from the bathroom. His voice came out slightly scratchy, a sign of all the sobs that had wracked his body. “Yeah, jus’ need a hug.” 

Your heart warmed in your chest, arms opening for the boy to crawl into. “I can do that.” 

»»——⍟——««

“I’m so tired,” he mumbled, harshly rubbing at his still teary eyes with his fists. You frowned, taking his hands in yours and moving them away from his face so he couldn’t hurt himself. He’d cried so hard and so much in such a short time that he was physically exhausted. 

You wrapped his arms around your waist, letting him lay his head on your chest so you could hold him. Your hands threaded in his freshly washed hair, the scent filling your senses much more pleasant than the one he’d originally arrived with. You gently untangled any knots that had developed in his curls over the course of them drying from the water, the boy humming softly. 

The feeling of your fingers gently scratching at his scalp and playing with his hair was almost enough to soothe him completely to sleep, but you could feel that his body was fighting it off as he probably didn’t want to feel like he was burdening you with another thing.

“Peter?” you whispered. He hummed tiredly in response, nuzzling his face closer to you. “You’re kinda heavy.”

He gasped, finding the energy to raise his head and gape at you as you held back your giggle. He couldn’t say he wasn’t grateful for you trying to put a smile on his face, even if that was through an insult. 

“That was so mean,” he whined, a smile threatening to form on his lips. The first smile you would see from him today.

“M sorry, but you are. Are you forgetting you’re literally built like a God?” He rolled his eyes, cheeks flushing a soft pink at the hint of a compliment. You let out a loud laugh, trying to shuffle away from him as you muttered his name repeatedly. He was laughing now too and the sound, after everything you’d seen from his attitude tonight, was music to your ears.

“Pete, stop!” you squealed. He collapsed down beside you on the bed, the two of you catching your breath as your stomachs began to ache from all the laughing. He still had a grin on his face when you turned your head to look at him, smiling softly as you noticed that familiar sparkle in his eye.

“Pete?” you asked, after your laughter had died down into a comfortable silence. “Yeah?” 

You sighed. “Does May know you’re here?” 

He didn’t respond for a few minutes, answering pretty much everything you needed to know. He could feel your eyes on him, making him feel even more guilty about the whole situation.

“No, she doesn’t,” he finally admitted.

You took his hand in yours, the action still making Peter’s breath hitch even after the many times the two of you had embraced recently. “You should call her, she’s probably worried about you.” 

It took a bit of convincing, but after a while he did call May. He moved out into the hall so he could have a little bit of privacy, not wanting you to hear the earful he was about to get from her.  She was angry, and rightfully so, scolding him for leaving her in the dark, but she was still mainly more worried about her nephew’s safety.

He came back with a rather sullen look on his face, phone in hand as he stood awkwardly in your door frame, like he was uncomfortable.

“I-I have to go, May wants me home,” he mumbled. You nodded your head, flashing him an understanding smile. You’d already guessed that May was going to be upset with him, so you could only pray for him for when he got home. You took a deep breath, pushing yourself up off of your bed and heading straight to Peter to hug him.

“I’m sorry,” you started. “About everything that happened tonight. It’ll all be okay,” you promised, rubbing your hand up and down his back. He pursed his lips, nodding as he pulled away.

“Thank you, Y/N.” 

You followed him from your room to the door of your apartment, seeing the way he dragged his feet sadly along the wooden floorboards. He sent you one last look over his shoulder, and in the light the rings of redness around his eyes were accentuated. 

You watched him walk out of your apartment with a small frown on your face, waving goodbye to him with a rather quiet, “Bye Peter.”

You closed the door with a sigh, your heart aching at the situation Peter had been put in. You knew how much he loved being Spiderman and you knew this wouldn’t stop him, which would probably only cause him more harm, but you trusted him and you hoped that Stark would be able to see he made a mistake.

“Did Peter leave?” You turned and looked at your mother, nodding your head. 

“Is he okay?” she asked. You plastered on a fake smile, nodding your head and pretending as though your last few hours consoling the teenager hadn’t happened. 

“Just some family problems, but I'm sure everything will be fine.” 

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

peter’s girl taglist → @sunsetholland @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @givebuckyhisplumsnow @lou-la-lou @slutforsr @tayyx @gog0juice @minejungwoo @creatorofthegalaxy @annathesillyfriend @paninipress @bvttercupbby @peterswebshooters @whoeveniskendall @itsallyscorner @hoodpankow @sunwardsss @hallecarey1 @writingrem @mamaparker28

[yayteaberry]

*SFW* Babysitting (Bakugou)

Rarely did he ever take a Saturday off from either training or studying, he was determined to stay better than everyone else. But, it had been raining since yesterday and he felt like he deserved a break anyways. From morning to afternoon, he enjoyed doing absolutely nothing, scrolling his social media and avoiding liking any of his friends posts on principle.

Shitty hair still won’t shut up about the selfie he liked so now nobody gets any.

His planned day of nothing is interrupted by a knock at his door, and he’s been pacified by memes to a degree where he doesn’t react violently to the intrusion.

Instead he shoves his phone into his pocket as gets up and opens the door, plain faced until he sees it’s you and that you’re holding something. Well, someone.

“Hey!”, you greet with an unusual level of enthusiasm, “I need you to do a favor for me.”

“A favor?”, he asks while he takes in the fact that you’re holding a baby, dressed in a striped onesie.

“Yeah, I’m kinda busy with stuff and I need someone to keep an eye on this little cutie for a bit!” To emphasize the importance or maybe sway him, you turn the baby around so he can see the chubby face.

“... If you’re asking me to babysit it, then no.”

You click your tongue against your teeth, rolling your eyes. “Well don’t call her by ‘it’, and I really need you to do this for me!”

He puts a hand on the door to signal that he’s about to close it, “Nah. Ask shitty hair or Deku, I think they’d love to drool over your kid.” “It’s my aunts baby!”, you say as you put your foot over the threshold, jostling the baby somewhat, which excitedly babbles as it meets his eyes, “They’re busy too, I tried asking! Believe me, you weren’t my first choice.”

“What do you mean by that?” He speaks with annoyance, opening the door fully as his competitive nature rises.

Internally you give a sigh of relief, externally you place the baby on your hip. “Bakugou, I think we both know that you’re awful with children. But you’re my last option and I have nowhere else to turn.”

“I should’ve been your first choice! I’m a fuckin’ wiz at keeping brats well behaved! Gimme!”

“Ah!”, you step out of range of his attempted grab and put out your pointer finger, “Don’t yell at the baby, don’t be aggressive with the baby, and most of all, don’t yell at the baby.”

In spite of your words you know full well he’ll do nothing of the sort, just wanting to give the appearance so he’ll be on his best behavior. He doesn’t have to know he was actually the only one you wanted to watch her.

After all his surface level bullying you can tell he’s soft on the inside, knowing he’s the least likely to give into a baby's whims while also being gentle enough to avoid making her cry.

“Yeah yeah.”, he grumbles, taking her from you when you extend her towards him, “When are you gonna collect the brat?”

You give a 50/50 gesture, shrugging, “Ah an half hour to two hours, but I’ll be back before three hours for sure! She’s been fed and changed recently but just in case,” A bag is revealed when you pull it from behind your back, taking it off by the strap and setting it inside.

“Diapers and toys, if she’s hungry there’s something for her in there too. Just, be careful about that, she’s sorta young for it.”

He nods at your words, watching her grapple at his shirt, having not once taken his eyes off her.

“Thank you!”, you chirp and give him a kiss on the cheek, knowing that he can’t do anything about it while holding her. That makes him glance up at you with some minor malice, which is reduced severely by the dusting of pink across his nose.

With that you take your leave, confident he’ll do fine.

He shuts the door and sits at the edge of his bed, cradling her in his arms. After a moment he takes a look over to the bag you left, thinking it’d probably be best to fish something out of there for her to do.

While he wasn’t experienced in caring for a baby in any capacity that felt like common sense. Plus, it’d allow him to continue wasting time on his phone.

“You,” he gently places her on the middle of the bed as he stands, “are not taking my Saturday from me with your tiny incapable hands.”

With one hand he grabs the bag off the floor and sets it on the bed beside her, opening it and digging through its contents. You were right, the thing is loaded with diapers and many different plastic objects.

Keys, babies love keys.

That toy seems the best choice, taking that and a blanket out before putting the bag on the floor nearby, holding the baby like a barrel under his arm while he flattens the blanket, then placing her on her belly.

He dangles the keys in front of her, watching as her eyes widen as she takes a horribly aimed swipe towards them. With a laugh tinged snort he lets her have them, sitting with his back against the bed and taking his phone out, resuming his leisure hobby.

A minute passes before he peeks over at her to make sure she’s still there, idly chewing on an orange key. It reminds him of something a puppy would do, up until she shoves it in way too far.

He drops his phone and yanks the keys away with concern she’ll vomit, not expecting her to look so upset over it. Briefly she contentedly waits for them to be returned, but when it becomes apparent they aren’t, she scowls.

“No,” he preemptively says, putting the keys down at his other side to keep them away, “you did something fucking stupid, so now they’re off limits. Don’t get all upset over it.”

She huffs and slams a hand down a few times, making a ‘gah’ with very demanding intent.

“I said no. Let me find something else then, calm down.”, he says as he reaches over to grab something random out of the bag, finding a plush red dinosaur. “See? Fun. Chew on this.”

He sets it down in front of her, and she immediately pushes it over, repeating herself. If nothing he gives her credit for having a strange amount of object permanence.

“I. Said. No. The fuck do you want me to do? You’re the one who can’t handle having the damn thing!” With a curt ‘no’ as a final statement, he leans over her to shove the keys back into the bag.

This turns out to be a huge mistake.

In a universally understood way, her face screws up as she starts taking in heavy breaths, which makes his eyebrows raise.

“Don’t. No crying.” his tone is as assertive as he can get it, shaking his head as if to cement it. Her tiny face turns red, sniffling once before fat tears begin to roll down her cheeks.

With no idea what to do in this situation, he starts rummaging through the bag for a solution, diapers spilling out as he digs for a similar toy if there even is one. He cringes as she really starts crying, caving and getting the keys back out, giving them to her. “See? See??”

She either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, bawling in the way only babies do, arms giving out as she lays down.

His instincts on consoling anyone are terrible and usually not to be followed but he acts without thinking, picking her up and setting her in his lap, bouncing his leg as he pets her back, softly shushing her, ignoring the part of him that does in fact wish to yell at the baby.

Her tiny body trembles, pawing at his shirt as she rubs her tear stained face into it. Continuing to follow his instincts he lifts her up, both arms cradling her as her head rests against his shoulder. She does eventually calm, relaxing as quiet hiccuping replaces her sobs, breathing regulating.

She's effectively soothed, he on the other hand is completely shaken up.

Jesus, why did that scare him so much? He’d heard babies cry before and always was irritated by it, but this time there was something so different about it. Even now his heart is still racing, mouth dry as he stares forward into the wall with a mixture of worry and gratefulness.

Once she’s relaxed, he picks up the previously discarded dinosaur, placing it in his lap next to her. Thankfully, she seems to have forgotten about the keys, happy to latch onto the plushy.

He takes his phone back out with the intent to resume his earlier scrolling, but he can’t entirely take his eyes off her.  He’s more interested in watching her reactions than he’d ever admit.

In some ways she reminds him of you, mainly the eye color and the way her cheeks pinch up when she smiles.

You seem the motherly type to him so he assumes you’re leagues better at this than he is, but you’ve never mentioned having to babysit her before.

In fact you’ve never mentioned her before at all.

Maybe you enjoyed doing it but kept quiet so you didn’t have anyone intruding or asking to see her, babies can feel stranger danger so that made sense, it’d probably be overwhelming. She doesn’t hate him though, maybe you knew that she wouldn’t? 

Despite the panic she’s sent him through he really wouldn’t mind watching after her again. It'll probably be easier with you here, though he isn’t sure what he’d do if you were, he’d just be sitting around while you did everything.

God, she is really goddamned adorable. He smirks as he takes a second to allow himself to outwardly express something positive, watching her slap her tiny hand against the toy.

Usually the idea of having a baby is the worst one anyone can have, but right now he isn’t all that opposed to it. Not that it looks simple, more that it looks to be worth it.

He knows he’d make super cute babies, based on what he looks like and has always looked like the kid would outshine any other snot maker.

While he didn’t know what you looked like as a baby he just assumed you did too, briefly considering what a baby would look like if it came from you and him.

He’s got his mother's blonde hair despite his father's brunette coloring so that’s a dominant trait, possibly overriding your own but who can know, it’d more likely have more of your features.

Out of anything he’d want a little girl just like this one, though he’d be happy with anything as long as it's yours. Your features have always been something he likes, face as well as body, you’re built well in every aspect he tends to care about.

That, and your winning personality, even he can see that it’s a very pleasant contrast to his own. A kid with a mixture of both would be undoubtedly unstoppable, making him proud left and right.

Suddenly the thought bubble pops as reality rises to the surface.

You’re not his and he doesn’t like you anyways, this doesn’t bear so much thinking since it’ll never happen.

A heat takes to his cheeks as he tries to move on and pretend he wasn’t having a domestic fantasy involving you, mostly pretending he hadn’t had any fantasies about you.

It was something that’d creep into his mind sometimes.

Kirishima and Deku tended to have some softer traits alongside their bolder ones but it just wasn’t the same coming from either of them.

You had a certain tenacity to you, it was totally within your options to let some rich older man take care of you but you wanted more for yourself, you wanted to be a hero.

It made you strong, and you were strong because you worked for it constantly. As thick as your innocence tended to be, he was fairly confident you could knock him unconscious if it strikes you as the right choice.

He shook his head and made an effort to clear out all his emotions, directing his attention back towards the baby to ground himself. 

At some point during his daydreaming she’d knocked out cold, the dinosaur laying on the floor beside him, propped up against his chest, quietly snoozing while drooling a slight amount. Even if he wanted too he couldn’t be grossed out, it was way too cute of a sight for him to get mad.

Looking at her makes him feel tired, so he decides that taking a nap wouldn’t be a terrible idea. Careful to avoid waking her, he shifts around to get comfortable, hooking an arm around her so she doesn’t teeter backwards while he’s moving.

He thinks about whether he should turn her over and lay her on the blanket, unsure of what the proper protocol is.

His neck is gonna get super fucked up if he stays sat like this, so he very slowly gets up and lays on his bed, keeping her held to his chest until he’s flat enough to let gravity do the work. For a moment he returns to thinking about laying her on a flat surface but he lets her stay as she is, being a light sleeper means he’ll be able to deal with any problems if there are any.

-

After thanking Aizawa for the extra sparring lesson, you quickly get yourself showered and changed.

It’s been about two hours since you left her with Bakugou and you were getting increasingly worried he was reaching his limit.

Honestly you didn’t expect to be gone this long, but you were glad you gave him the estimate because it meant he’d have less reasons to be upset with you.

You prepare yourself for him to yell at you for leaving him alone with a demon for so long, even if she’s rarely a problem you do suspect he’ll be dramatic.

Still, it was a godsend that he said yes to begin with, you were going to make sure to tell him that.

When you get to his room you don’t bother with knocking, opening it to let yourself in without hesitation.

You were going to say something, but you forget the instant you lay eyes on the scene in front of you.

Practically swooning, you place a hand over your mouth to prevent making any noise, getting your phone out to document perhaps the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

He’s laying on his bed, one arm over her and one over his eyes to block out the light, her tiny hands secured around the collar of his shirt, both of them peacefully asleep.

Not intending it to be blackmail but being aware it would probably become that, you take pictures from several different angles, wanting nothing more than to show everyone.

Though, for his own sake, you don’t actually send them anywhere near the class.

This doesn’t mean you don’t send them all to his mother, you do.

It does pain you to know you’ll have to hold off on showing people lest the information come back to him, but you do make it your phones home screen anyways. 

[spooderboyandtincan]

The 12(ish) Days of December

A/N: I intended to write a Hanukkah themed chapter, but unfortunately I suffered some burnout and I couldn’t really start it :(((((( I plan and hope to add on to this in the future, I just wanted to get it out here on time! Happy Holidays everyone!!

Read on Ao3

/ST*RKERS DNI/

I

“Che palle!” May cried as she and Peter stepped out of the elevator. “Tony, what the hell is that?!”

“It’s a giant teddy bear,” Tony called back from the kitchen. “It’s for you, Pete!”

“Me?” Peter gasped, his face lighting up. He charged toward the ten-foot teddy bear and tackled it. The giant brown bear teetered slightly with his weight but didn’t tip over. “He’s so soft!”

Tony came out of the kitchen with a wide grin on his face. He wiped his flour-coated hands on his pants and tried to give Peter a hug without pushing him off the bear,

“He’s so beautiful!” Peter giggled, wrapping his arms around the bear’s neck. “And huge!” 

Tony nodded in a proud, self-satisfied sort of way. Besides being delighted that the boy clearly adored his gift, he now had proof that this was obviously how one should react when presented with a ten-foot-tall stuffed animal. He'd have to take a picture and send it to Pepper.

May tossed her purse on the floor and shook her head at Tony. “As long as you can find a place for it, I’m not complaining,” she chuckled.

“I’ll rent a storage unit somewhere,” Tony supplied, taking a sip of coffee from his Iron Man shaped mug. Tony treasured that mug, which had been gifted to him by Peter several months ago. He never brought it in the lab for fear that Dum-E or U would break it, and he kept it in the cabinet next to his “1# IronDad” mug (also a precious gift from his kid).

He looked back to Peter, who had wrapped his arms around the bear, which was tilting dangerously. “Be careful, kiddo,” he said, biting his lip. But the moment the words got out of his mouth, Peter and the gigantic teddy bear started to topple to the ground.

“Shit-!” he began, darting forward, only to be met by Peter’s giggles.

“Nooo. Leave me. ‘M comfy.” He rolled onto the bear’s big belly and sprawled across it. “This’s perfect,” he hummed, closing his eyes. 

Tony and May shared a slightly exasperated yet fond glance. Tony flopped down next to Peter, tucking a curl behind his ear. “Now that I think about it, spider-baby,” he mused, “I’ve got something else for ya.”

Peter perked up and opened his eyes. “What?” 

Tony gave him a large grin and ran a hand through his curls. “C’mere.” He wrapped an arm around his shoulders and led Peter to his room.

May sighed. “I swear to god, Tony, if you’re giving him an Audi….” she muttered. 

“I’m not!” the man insisted. Peter rolled his eyes and sat down on his bead. 

Tony put a warm palm over his eyes. “Close your eyes, bud.” 

Peter tried to keep his eyes closed as Tony ran to his own room, tearing through what sounded like wrapping paper and knocking boxes over with no absence of cursing. 

Moments later, a small, leather 4x4 inch box was placed on his open palm. He opened his eyes and looked first at the box, then at up Tony, who smiled. May shrugged and gestured to open it. 

Inside the box rested a thin, slender watch with a smooth black strap. The face of the watch was rectangular, and when Peter pushed the button on the side it lit up, displaying the time above what looked like a mini arc reactor. It resembled the StarkWatch he was wearing that very moment, except it looked more high-tech.

“A new StarkWatch, specially customized for you, by yours truly,” Tony said. “Your old one looked pretty busted, even though they’re supposed to be indestructible.” Peter snickered at Tony’s gentle jab. “And it’s got a few minor upgrades. You can set the lock screen, for one. And it should be trackable from anywhere in the universe, and I mean everywhere. And you can call me, or May, or Ned or Rhodey or whoever from the top of Mount Everest or the bottom of the Mariana Trench.”

“Wow,” Peter whispered, tracing the sides of the watch before strapping it onto his wrist. “Thank you, Mister Stark! I love it! It’s so cool!” 

“What happened to ‘Tony?’” he grumbled playfully, giving his spider-baby a kiss on his head. “I’m glad you like it, buddy. It’s basically the same stuff as your old one, just better.” 

Then, to both Peter and May’s surprise, Tony bent down and grabbed a colorful red bag covered in golden glitter. Peter laughed.

“Tony, it’s only the ninth!” May snorted, her eyebrows raised past her hairline.

“That’s because we’ll need these before Christmas,” Tony said wisely. He handed Peter a soft package wrapped in green tissue paper and watched him tear the packaging in half.

“It’s so ugly!” he cried, holding up a garish green sweater. There was a plastic red ball attached to the big reindeer's nose and tiny bells were tied onto the reindeer’s harness. Little snowflakes were patterned all over, and Peter couldn’t help but laugh. “I love it, Tony!” Peter pulled the sweater on and was delighted to find that the fabric was incredibly soft, instead of the unbearably itchy sweaters he had owned in the past. “It’s perfect!”

Tony laughed fondly at his already thrilled kid. “If you think it’s good now, wait till you see this. FRI, lights off,” he ordered.  

Peter felt Tony fumble with something on his shoulder, and suddenly the sweater lit up. The reindeer’s nose lit up bright red, the snowflakes began to glow, and, as cliché as it might have sounded, the bells gave a merry jingle as Peter laughed.

“I love it!” He tackled Tony with a hug, relaxing slightly in the man’s arms. 

“Good,” Tony chuckled, “‘Cause I’ve got about three more for you and your aunt each.”

II

“Tony, where’re we going?” Peter whined, his breath fogging the window. “Tell meeee!”

“My lips are sealed,” Tony said, pretending to zip his lips shut and throw away the key. “We’re almost there, Rudolph, don’t worry.”

“Rudolph?!” Peter snorted.

Tony reached over the console to ruffle his hair. “I thought you might want a Christmas nickname,” he explained. “Plus, y’know, you already had a nickname available that only required a bit of simple reconstruction, Roo.”

Peter shook his head. “Just tell meeee!”

“No. Never.”

“Pleeease?”

“I physically can’t, buddy.”

“Tell me! Tellmetellmetellme pleeeeeeeeease?”

“Will… to keep secrets… decreasing,” Tony said robotically. “Fine. We’re going ice-skating, Petey-Pie.”

Peter gasped, his big chocolate eyes going wide. “Really?!” 

Tony grinned and glanced over to his kid. “Really.” He wished he could stop the car and give his sweet boy a hug. 

“But…” Peter bit his lip. “I don’t really know how. I mean, I went ice skating with Ned a few years ago but we mostly fell over and bruised our butts.”

Tony chuckled fondly. “That’s okay kiddie, I’ll show you the arts. Rhodey and I went when we were in college, and man, we had a blast laughing at each other. Oh- we’re here!”

“Tony, I don’t have any skates!” Peter realized as they hopped out of the car. 

“I already got you some, Pete, don’t worry,” Tony assured him. He opened the trunk of the car. “And I brought you an extra hat, a coat, a scarf, some better gloves, extra socks and a pair of snow pants.” 

“Tony,” Peter began, leaning into the hug the man offered him all the same. He grumbled and rolled his eyes but let Tony wrap a scarf around his neck and trade his thin woolen gloves out for much warmer, thicker ones. Peter had to admit he felt a lot warmer. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Thanks, Pete. M’kay, I’ve got these fancy red and blue skates for you and red and gold for me.” 

“And I’m sure the color choices were random?” Peter asked sarcastically. “Wait- these have the Spider-Man logo on them! Mr. Stark, are there Spider-Man ice-skates?!”

Tony bent to kiss his forehead. “There are, Pete. Pretty cool, huh?”

“So cool! I love ‘em, thank you, Tony!” He held up the skates to admire them. “They’re great!”

“No problem, buddy. It was my pleasure.”

Peter flopped down in the snow and pulled on his skates. He looked up to admire the tall oak and pine trees swaying gently with the wind, the last leaves of fall scattering along the icy roads. A pair of snowflakes drifted down to his coat, and Peter felt a sort of peace flow through him.

“Petey? Are you comin’?” Tony called, skating back and forth along the edge of the pond. Peter knotted the laces of his skates tightly and struggled to his feet.

“I’m trying!” he yelled, staggering forward. He leaned over the ice and felt a bit dizzy. It was about a foot down to the actual ice, and Peter knew without a doubt that he would slip if he tried to get down. “I dunno, um….”

“I gotcha, Petey, don’t worry.” Tony held out his arms and gave him a reassuring smile. Hesitantly, Peter lowered stepped onto the frozen pond, grabbing Tony’s arm and clinging to him as he got both feet on the ice. 

“Good job, Roo!” the man praised, lifting him up by the armpits so he was standing up a bit straighter. He couldn’t help but compare Peter to a fawn who just stood up for the very first time, and the boy’s big bambi eyes weren’t helping his case. “Getting on the ice is the hardest part. I’ve landed on my ass more times than I can count.” Tony frowned at himself. “Sorry I said ‘ass,’ don’t repeat that.”

Peter snorted. His skates slipped and he felt Tony’s arms tighten around him. “Whoa there, buddy. I gotcha.” He tucked a loose curl behind the teen’s ear and kissed his cheek, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

“‘M’kay, you ready, Pete?” 

“Heck yeah!” 

Tony grinned. “Okay, first, you said ‘heck yeah’ instead of ‘hell yeah’ and that’s adorable,” he teased, chuckling at Peter’s eye roll. “Second: let’s wreck this rink!”

Though of course, they ended up making more of a wreck of themselves rather than the rink.

The very second Peter slid his foot forward, he found himself spontaneously falling backwards. Luckily, Tony caught him easily and gently pulled him back up. 

“I meant to do that,” he huffed, his small hands scrabbling at Tony’s coat. “It was- completely- intentional.” 

“Of course it was, Roo, I know that,” he said with a raise of his eyebrows. “No one has the grace and agility you do.”

“I am graceful, Tony! How dare you?!” Peter grumbled. 

Tony might have made a quip about the arms wrapped tightly around his waist for support, but he decided his poor kid had suffered enough. Despite bumping into every table or chair in his path, Peter was surprisingly graceful, especially when he swung with ease through the air on a thin stand of webbing. “You are graceful, buddy, I promise,” he admitted. “You wanna give it another try?”

Peter stuck his tongue out at him, adjusted his hat, and gingerly took a step forward. Tony tensed, ready to lunge forward and catch him if the boy slipped, but found himself letting a quiet cheer. “Nice job, Pete!”

Peter beamed at him, his legs spread far apart and his arms extended for balance. He tipped backwards and Tony started to jump forward, but Peter flailed his arms around and regained his balance.

“I think you’re getting the hang of it, kiddo!” Tony called as Peter made his way to the opposite side of the pond. He winced suddenly, protectiveness flooding through him at his retreating figure. “Be careful! Wait for me!”

He caught up to Peter easily and zipped in front of him, catching him by the shoulders. “You’re doing great, baby!” 

“Thanks,” he giggled, looking down at his shoes. He wiped his red nose with the back of his hand and sniffled. “‘S fun!”

Tony smiled and adjusted Peter’s scarf. “Glad to hear it.”

“Tony?” he asked. “Can you do a figure eight?”

The man paused to consider this, clicking his tongue. “Only one way to find out!” he decided. 

Peter watched excitedly as he skated out to the middle of the pond, looking practically weightless. Tony took a deep breath, prayed he didn’t break any bones, then pushed off. He zoomed around the pond in a perfect figure eight, only faltering for a brief moment, and traced over it twice before he skidded back to Peter. “Ta-da!”

Peter applauded, clearly very impressed. Tony bowed exaggeratedly and pretended to be embarrassed. 

“D’you think I should try?” Peter asked. 

Tony smiled fondly. “Only if you want to. I know you’d nail it though.”

And he did. Peter skated carefully to the edge of the pond and performed the figure eight beautifully, spinning in circles and laughing when he got a bit too dizzy.

Tony skated up to him, his eyes huge. “Jesus, Petey, that was fantastic!” He pulled the embarrassed teen to his chest and wished, not for the first time, that Peter wasn’t wearing a hat so he could kiss the top of his head. He settled for Peter’s cheek instead. “Wow, baby, that was amazing! Wait- I gotta sign you up for the Olympics. Where’s my phone- oh, I got it.” He pulled his phone from his coat.

“Tony, nooooo!” Peter protested.

“Tony yes. You’re too talented.”

“It was just a figure eight!” he giggled. “And you did one too so you hafta sign yourself up.” Peter looked up to the gray sky and shivered as the brisk winds tore at his heavy coat and scarf. He leaned even closer to Tony.

“You cold, baby?” Tony rubbed his back gently, hoping to generate some warmth. “Wanna go back home? We can come back here anytime you want.”

Peter sighed a bit sadly, but he had to admit he was freezing. He and Tony skated back to the car quickly. Snowflakes began to fall rapidly down as gusts of wind tried to upset their balance. Tony helped Peter onto the bank and they hurriedly yanked off their ice skates.

They found refuge in the car only when Tony turned the heater up full blast and  leaned over the console to pull Peter into his arms. Peter’s shivers that had been worrying him far more than Tony had been willing to say eventually died off and together they watched what was now practically a blizzard raging outside.

“Just in time,” Tony mumbled into Peter’s curls. “Feel any better, baby?”

He grew worried when he received no response and pulled back. Peter’s eyes were shut and his breathing slow, though he made a small whimpering noise in the back of his throat when Tony pulled away. Tony smiled, a tender, loving light in his eyes and pulled Peter back into his arms, cradling his kid against his chest and rubbing his back soothingly. “‘M here. ‘M here, baby, don’t worry,” he cooed, planting a kiss on his forehead. 

Peter curls tickled his cheek, his warm breath heating the skin of Tony’s neck. The console between him and his kid was uncomfortable and hard against his side, but he wouldn’t have moved for the world. Tony held Peter tightly and closed his eyes.

Maybe they could stay there a little while as they waited for the blizzard to pass.

III

Tony had been brewing a hot cup of coffee in the kitchen when a disheveled, sniffling, sleepy Peter face-planted into his back.

“Whoa, bud!” Tony spun around and caught the boy under the armpits. “Hey, hey. Are you okay?” He tilted Peter’s chin back and found that his nose was bright red, his eyes were half-lidded, and his bedhead was a lot worse (though still absolutely adorable) than it usually was.

“‘M fine,” Peter sniffled, leaning heavily against his chest. “Missed you.”

“Oh, baby,” Tony murmured, wrapping his arms around the small teen, “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” He gave his definitely-not-sick spider-baby a smooch on his temple. “You’re pretty warm,” he noted with a hint of worry in his voice. He pressed the back of his hand to the teen’s forehead. “Do you wanna lie down, kiddo?”

Peter shook his head weakly. “Wan’ you.”

Tony’s heart melted and he turned into a pile of mush. In this tired, sick, achy state Peter was clingier than ever, and all he wanted was him. He wanted Tony. He kissed Peter’s temple. “I’m gonna stay right here, Petey, don’t worry,” he assured his kid. “I promise.” 

Tony held Peter with one arm while he rummaged through the kitchen cabinets with the other. “FRI? What’s up with the spider-baby?”

“Peter is exhibiting symptoms of a common cold, such as coughing, sneezing, a runny nose, and a fever,” the AI replied. Tony felt a pang of worry and empathy in his heart. 

“Okay. I’ve got your pain meds,” he announced in a whisper. “Do you want water or OJ?”

Peter decided on the latter, not bothering to raise his head but simply mumbling “juice” into the man’s chest. Tony hummed in agreement and attempted to pour a glass for himself one-handedly (most of the juice ended up on the counter, but holding his sick kid was far more important than pouring orange juice).

He led the boy to the couch, a steadying hand around his shoulders. Peter snuggled against him, coughing and sniffling. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand and shivered.

Tony placed two white pills into palm. Peter took a hesitant sip of his drink and gulped down the pills. Tony tucked an errant curl behind his ear and placed a kiss one his temple. 

With Peter still in his hold, he strained to reach the weighted electric blanket that had fallen behind the couch. With a painful crack from his twisted back, he finally managed to get his fingers around the feather-soft blanket and settled back on the couch with a triumphant grunt.

He wrapped the electric blanket tightly around them both. Peter’s shivering caused a surge of fierce protection to run through his veins, and Tony hugged him to his chest, pressing a kiss to his soft, though slightly sweaty curls. He glared at the dark corners of the room, as if somehow the very cold that was making his child suffer so much would leap from the shadows.  

Peter found comfort in the vibrations of Tony’s chest and the beat of his heart. The calloused fingers running through his hair and the occasional kiss against his temple soothed him beyond measure, and without ever realizing it, Peter started to drift off. Compared to when he had woken up, soaked with sweat, wheezing and sniffling and rather nauseous, he felt so much better in his father-figure’s embrace.

Dimly, he noticed that Tony was talking to him. He thought he recognized the words coming out of his mouth, and he realized suddenly that Tony was reading Mr. Willowby’s Christmas Tree to him. That book had been Peter’s favorite when he was a small toddler, and hearing the familiar words aloud brought a big burst of happiness to his chest. 

Peter let his eyes slip shut for a second. The headache that had been pounding in his head was completely gone and in Tony’s arms, he felt incredibly warm and cozy and happy. 

When his eyes opened again, he determined that Tony had finished reading the book. If he had had enough energy, he would have asked him to read another. But much to his delight, he realized Tony had already picked up another book.

And just before his eyes fluttered shut, he heard Tony’s gentle voice speaking, full of love. “I love you, Petey.”

I love you too.

IV

“Mmm, Tony, the spaghetti was fantastic!” May exclaimed as she loaded her plate into the dishwasher. “I need that recipe, it’s just too good!” 

Tony looked at Peter out of the corner of his eyes. The boy shook his head frantically and drew a finger across his throat. Tony snickered. “Thank you, May, I’m glad to hear that,” he said.

To be completely truthful, he felt like throwing up. During the dinner, Peter had chatted enough to distract him, but now his emotions were left to himself, and Tony had barely been swallowed by them. He stuffed the last plate in the dishwasher and took a few long, deep breaths. He massaged his forehead and blinked, sitting down heavily on the couch.

Tony’s heart was beating out of his chest. He looked up to the boy, who was texting someone- probably Ned, completely oblivious. “Pete?” he began shakily. “Do you think we could talk for a second?” He and May shared a glance. She realized immediately what he was about to do and gave him an encouraging smile and a thumbs up. 

“Yeah!” Peter vaulted onto the couch with a laugh. His grin faded when he saw how worried, how scared the man looked. Alarm kindled in his chest. “What’s wrong, Mr. Stark?”

Tony couldn’t bring himself to laugh at the cookie crumbs in the corners of his mouth or the way his hair frizzed everywhere as he pulled his Santa hat off. He swallowed and took a deep breath.

“Um-” Tony had to clear his throat. He reached down and grabbed a briefcase leaning against the couch that Peter hadn’t noticed before. “Uh,” he tried. He pulled two papers out of the briefcase and stared at them for a long while. “Do you think that you could give these a read, kiddo?”

Peter nodded silently and took them. He looked up at Tony, his head tilted in confusion.

He looked to the papers. His eyes widened in disbelief. “W-what? I-” He turned the papers over as if there would be a sticky note saying “IT'S A PRANK!” on the back. “What? W-what? I-I don’t-” Peter shook his head. 

He couldn’t stop looking at those cream-colored papers. 

Child: Peter Benjamin Parker

Adopting Parent(s): Anthony Edward Stark 

The rest of the paper was blank, except for Tony’s signature at the bottom. 

“Am I asleep? This-this is a dream, right?” Peter's eyes were filling with tears but he didn’t bother to wipe them away.

“It’s not a dream, sweetheart,” May said gently. “It’s real.” She squeezed his knee, hoping to ground him.

“Really?” He opened his mouth but couldn’t seem to form words. He gaped like a fish, reading the adoption papers over and over again. “You-you wanna adopt me?” he finally managed to squeak out.

Tony finally gathered the courage to look at his kid. “Yeah, baby. But only if you want to, okay? Nothing would change, though. We’d- just be making it official. Everything would be the same except-” He throat closed, and suddenly he couldn’t speak. 

Except Peter would be his official son- legally, on paper. And Tony would be his official dad. (There was no way Tony wasn’t already his dad.)

“What are you thinking, baby?” he murmured, instinctively tucking a curl behind Peter’s ear with shaky hands. 

Tony’s gentle touch was enough to break the dam of emotions that had been holding back. Peter sniffled, then burst into tears and practically jumped into his dad’s arms. 

Tony hugged him tightly, rubbing a hand up and down his back and pressing long kisses to his temple. Peter blubbered into his chest, happy tears soaking Tony’s sweater. May wrapped her arms around the two and squeezed them both tightly.

Tony felt tears prickle in his own eyes and he dropped his forehead to Peter’s curls. “Is that a yes?” he finally managed to say.

Peter giggled wetly and nodded frantically against his chest. 

A grin as wide as a dinner plate crossed Tony’s face. He realized suddenly that tears were streaming down his cheeks, but he didn’t wipe them away. He kissed the top of Peter's head and squeezed him tighter. 

May pressed a quick kiss on Peter’s cheek and stood up. “I’ll be back in a bit,” she said, sensing that the father and son might want a moment alone. 

Tony rocked his kid back and forth, rubbing his back and pressing kiss after kiss to his cheek. “I love you,” he murmured into his chestnut curls. “I love you.” IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.

“Love you,” Peter babbled. “I love you too. I love you.”

He held Peter at an arm’s length, still grinning. Then he pulled his kid back to him again and kissed his cheek, wiping away his tears with the pad of his thumb. “I love you.”

Peter sniffled, wiping his nose with his sweater. He wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck and curled around him like a koala. He leaned heavily against his dad’s chest, his breathing beginning to even out. Tony’s chest vibrated with every “I love you so much, Petey” and his ceaseless murmurs of love and comfort.    

“Love you, Dad,” he said sleepily, his eyelids drooping. 

A lump formed in Tony’s throat that he couldn’t seem to swallow past. Tears started to trickle down his cheeks. “Petey-” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “I love you so much. So damn much, okay?” He ran his hand up and down the boy’s back, kissing his temple and trying to blink his happy tears away. 

Tony felt himself slowly drifting asleep. He blinked, and then his cheek was resting on his kid’s curls. His eyes closed again, and suddenly May was there, draping a blanket over them. He tried to tell her to get Peter’s special heated blanket, because his poor kid couldn’t thermoregulate and absolutely hated the cold. Then he realized that she had already tucked it around the boy and sighed in relief, finally letting himself relax.

May settled on the opposite side of Peter and wrapped an arm around him. Within minutes she was snoring quietly, but Tony was too tired to notice. A wave of joy and peace and love washed over him, and his eyes slipped shut.

~~~~~

/ST*RKERS DNI/

~~~~~

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[bright-molina]

Cross My Heart: A History

Intermission: In which you can’t help but recall your history with Bobby and everything you went through. Always side by side.

aka “We interrupt this program”

word count: 2144

warnings: brief and kinda vague implications of parents dying/leaving

a/n: So here’s today’s episode of Cross My Heart. Really this a look into the relationship with Bobby and why it means as much as it does. It’s a little different but I thought it would be nice insight. Enjoy!

*flashbacks are in italics

The silence in the car was deafening.

It never was.

Especially not with Bobby, Carrie, and Kayla. Especially after a show. This was different though.

It was a small car but Bobby had made sure to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. Your thoughts drifted as you stared out the window, driving the very familiar routes with ease.

*

“Again?”

“Again.”

It was dark and your head was buried in your knees but you knew who it was immediately. You could feel the opposite end of the couch sink a little and peeked up for just a moment.  

The last few months in that big, old home had been difficult but nearly every night without fail Bobby found you sitting in the living room in the spot closest to the window. He knew of the nightmares you had well enough.

“I can’t -” Your voice shook and he shifted to look at you. “I can’t remember what he sounded like.”

The two of you had been kids at the time. Six year old kids who had gone through way too much. More than anyone should have to.

The silence was loud and tense and finally Bobby sighed and admitted something to you. “I-I don’t remember what mine sounded like either.”

Months had passed and the two of you had developed your own little routine. Bobby hated talking about his reasons for being there but you needed to talk about yours. He let you talk as much or as little as you wanted to and listened every single time without fail.

This time, though, he moved closer and the shaky exhale he let out was much like your own. “That’s okay though. You have me. And I promise I will talk so much that you’ll forget what everybody else sounds like.”

It had worked. You laughed through the tears streaming down your cheeks and for the first time in months you actually felt okay.

*

“Hey,” Kayla’s voice broke you out of your thoughts as you pulled into her driveway. She’d noticed you going through the motions and had tried her hardest to avoid saying anything until now. “It’ll be okay, I promise.”

“Will it?” Your voice was quiet, barely audible to her over the music playing through the radio. One glance in the rearview mirror revealed Carrie and Bobby having their own hushed conversation.

“Of course it will,” Kayla sounded positive and you were tempted to believe her. “You’ve gotten through harder things.”

She gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before getting out of the car, making you promise to text her later. You only nodded, her words ringing loud in your head.

*

“I heard you.”

“Heard me what?”

Even at just over seven years old you knew what was happening well enough. It was only a matter of time. For both of you.

“You sounded good.”

Bobby knew what you meant then. You watched the grin on his face fall and you quickly shook your head, sitting up a little taller in your usual place by the window.

“I’m serious,” You moved over a bit, a silent invitation for him to join you. “I didn’t know you could sing. And - and the guy said you could have one of those guitars he always brings with him.”

“I didn’t know either,” Bobby sat down in the spot beside you and stared at the empty space in front of him. “He said it's red. Said it’s waiting at -” You watched the smile grow on his face again. “At home.”

The two of you talked until the sun went down. Like you always did. It wasn’t until you were walking to the kitchen side by side that it really hit you. Bobby was leaving.

“I’ll come see you,” He promised after asking you what was wrong. Of course he noticed. He always did.

“No,” You shook your head and gave a sigh then. “My da -” The word caught in your throat but you powered through. “My dad's sister, my aunt, came to see me the other day when you were gone. She said nobody ever told her but she’s moving here now and next week I’m moving in with her.”

Bobby frowned, dropping the fork on his plate and leaning forward against the table. “You didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t know how,” You shrugged easily. Too easily.

“You can always tell me anything.”

And though the chatter all around you was loud, all you could hear was him and the single thought swimming in your head.

You copied his movements and leaned forward just as he had. “Can I tell you a secret then?”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“I’m gonna miss you,” For a second you debated stopping there. But then his serious look turned into a gentle smile and you sighed before admitting, “You’re my best friend and I’m gonna miss you.”

Bobby nodded and finally picked up his fork, continuing with his dinner as you did the same. Just moments later when you were distracted enough he returned the gesture. “I’m gonna miss you too.”

*

“Move over.”

You jumped at the sound of Carrie’s voice in your ear and turned to look at where she was leaning forward on the center console. “What?”

“Move over, I’m driving.” She repeated, staring at you until you opened the drivers side door. While you walked around the front of the car, Carrie climbed across the center console until she was settled in the seat.

The moment you closed the passenger door she started driving. For a little while she said nothing, simply glancing back and forth between you and Bobby, both of you staring out opposite windows.

“I’m positive it’s gonna be okay, you know,” Carrie looked at you as she stopped at a red light, putting the music up to hide the conversation you were having.

“Kayla said the same thing,” You shook your head, cracking a smile for just a second before it faded. “How do you know?”

“Because you’re Y/N and Bobby,” Carrie said it so easily that you couldn’t help but look at her and believe her. “Things have always worked out in your favor.”

*

You stood on the sidewalk in front of a house that was apparently brand new. At least it was to you. Your Aunt Sofie talked loudly on a phone held to her ear as she lifted your few bags out of the trunk of her car.

She spoke big, angry words you didn’t understand the meaning of and constantly adjusted the tight ponytail her hair was in. But when she looked at you it was with a kind smile. One that made you believe you’d be okay there.

“Don’t worry about that,” She told you when you asked her about the phone call. “Just some work stuff. Now come on, let’s go get you settled.”

She had offered you her hand but before you could take another step somebody called your name. You looked at her and she looked at you and it took a moment to realize your name hadn’t come from either of you.

Your eyes narrowed in the direction of the voice and you really couldn’t believe your eyes.

“What are you doing here?” You and Bobby shouted at the same time, you confused and him excited. There were three people with him: the man from the other day, a woman frowning at her phone as she typed away angrily, and a girl around your age.

They all stopped on the sidewalk while he ran and practically tackled you onto the floor.

“I live that way,” He waved behind him down the street and you were sure the shock on your face was obvious.

You pointed at the house behind you just as he had, “I live here.”

The two of you laughed together and barely paid any attention as your Aunt Sofie walked over and introduced herself to Bobby’s family.

“Oh!” He left you for only a few seconds before coming back, dragging the girl along with him. “This is Carrie.”

“I can introduce myself,” She huffed at Bobby, who only smiled and rolled his eyes, before turning to you with a grin. “I’m Carrie.”

“Y/N.” You returned the smile and you were positive then. Everything had worked out okay. It was perfect and despite everything else, it would all be okay. 

It would always be as long as Bobby was there beside you.

*

Bobby couldn’t get out of the car fast enough.

Carrie had only just shut it off before he was all but sprinting inside without so much as a look back. Your phone vibrated in your pocket again but you paid it no mind. You knew exactly who it was and you had no intention of answering him now. There were other problems to think of at the moment.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You sighed, letting your head fall back against the seat as your thoughts finally went quiet.

“No tomorrow. You’re crazy if you think I’m leaving you alone right now,” Before you could ask her what she meant she got out of the car and ran for your side, opening your door and dragging you out.

“Care no, I can’t be here right now,” You insisted, not budging from where you stood.

“Of course you can,” Carrie held your hands in hers, forcing you to look at her. There was a serious look on her face as she stared at you. “This is home. We’re home and I’m not letting you leave.”

*

“I’m not letting you leave.”

“You can’t make me stay.”

“Maybe,” Your admission made Bobby turn around to look at you. The anger on his face was obvious but it didn’t stop you from moving towards him. It never did.

Carrie watched the interaction closely as you left her side, wondering briefly if you would be able to get through to him where she couldn’t.

“But I’m not gonna let you be alone right now, either of you. So if you leave, we leave.”

“Why do you care?” He didn’t mean the words but he couldn’t stop them. “You don’t have to care. Nobody does. No one ever has to care.”

Knowing why he felt that way didn’t make it easier to hear.

Their mom - Lori - had left when they least expected it. And their dad, as hard as he tried, was still unable to leave tour to come back to them. There they were, two thirteen year old's suddenly on their own one morning. It was enough to make them feel as terrible as they had years ago.

“This is your home, Bobby,” You motioned all around your own living room, the space the three of you had been staying in for the past few days.

Pictures of you, him, Carrie, and Kayla were scattered around in mismatched picture frames. A jar filled with spare guitar picks sat on the counter. Recordings of old home performances were collected on dvd’s under the tv.

But you weren’t talking about any of those things.

“We are your home,” You caught him when he practically collapsed into you upon hearing your words and how serious you were. His body shook and soft cries escaped him for the first time since the week before. “We’re your home and I’m not letting you leave.”

*

“I should’ve never answered those stupid messages,” Your head dropped and you shut your eyes tightly, trying your hardest to keep your composure. It wasn’t working. “It was a mistake.”

“It wasn’t,” Carrie thought of the moment they’d interrupted back at the venue. Of how intimate it seemed. Of how completely and utterly happy you looked. That was a look she’d never seen before. “Mistakes were made but messaging him wasn’t one of them.”

Carrie could tell you didn’t believe her and she didn’t blame you. It was hard right now and she could understand the doubt you felt. She knew those feelings well enough.

“Come on,” She locked her arm with yours and pulled you close as she led you inside the house. “You guys will be okay. It might take a while but you’ll get there.”

You weren’t sure who she was referring to but you didn’t ask.

The walk you made to her room was silent and familiar and comfortable. It wasn’t until you passed Bobby’s room that your thoughts started running wild again and the twisting nerves returned.

“Hey,” Carrie noticed you tense right away and she was quick to shut the door behind her. Your phone started vibrating again and this time she took it. You watched as she frowned at the screen, silenced the ringer, and stuffed it under a pillow. “I’m right here for you. Okay?”

“Yeah,” You nodded and took a deep breath, giving her the best smile you could manage at the moment. “Okay.”

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