#rainy day fic

[inukag-archive]

I like fanfics where Inuyasha and Kagome are caught in inclement weather, seeing them all cozy together. I was wondering if you had a list of fanfics where our favorite couple is caught in bad weather?

Hello Anon -

You have unknowingly asked for a Mod Favorite list because our Fic Finders had so much fun putting this list together for you. This list is a mixed bag for setting and rating, and while predominantly one-shots does include a few multi-chapter stories that feature inclement weather. Happy reading!

Snow Route by @superpixie42 (M)

Inuyasha thought he had the best idea for a surprise for Kagome. They would spend the longest New Moon night of the year (aka the worst night of the year) together in the market village inn, therefore turning a terrible night into a wonderful night. Except nothing ever goes to plan does it?

--

The Breath of Death by @roseheartwhitefox (E)

He should have seen the warning signs. The sudden chill in the air. The slow but steady increase of the wind as it shook the trees and blew the snow, completely obscuring his vision, burning even his tough hanyou skin with cold. The rapid pacing of the clouds through the sky. The fact that there were no animals out in the forest, despite it being the middle of the day. He had lived through it once before, and should have seen it coming.

A blanket scenario story featuring Inuyasha/Kagome. Takes place during the final act. Rated for explicit content. 

--

Summer's Snow by @heynikkiyousofine (T)

A freak snow storm in summer and only one bed? What's Kagome to do.

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Snow Bound by @petri808 (M)

College roommates Sango and Kagome along with Sango's boyfriend Miroku and his roommate Inuyasha head to a cabin in the mountains for a vacation. Chapter 3-5 contain sexual content.

--

The Last Stop by BanksDelivers (T)

In a world where demons are ostracized by society, Inuyasha has only his pride and the clothes on his back to his name. When Kagome offers him a place to stay during the approaching storm, will he take a helping hand?

Or, that story where Inuyasha is a stubborn idiot and Kagome has to rescue him.

--

The Bus Stops Here by @neutronstarchild, @fawn-eyed-girl (T)

At 6:04pm, while he was waiting to take the bus home, she would appear. He lived for those moments, waiting at the bus stop together, trying to build up the courage to talk to her. When the day finally came, she was late. And it was raining. And it was all he could do to keep her from catching a cold. But finally, they were traveling in the same direction, together.

--

His Hands by @quickening (K)

Thunderstorms are inconvenient most times, but the rare opportunity to closely study a grouchy hanyou is too good to pass up ... especially when said hanyou insists on sleeping on you. Fair's fair, right?

--

Rain by @lavendertwilight89 (E)

Inuyasha and Kagome get caught in the rain after they had taken on root-head. Inuyasha finally wants to talk.

--

Chasing The Vortex by @neutronstarship @ruddcatha @mickisketch @fawn-eyed-girl (E)

Inuyasha knew what happiness was. It was him alone with a tornado, because tornadoes were predictable, and simple. And being alone meant no more getting hurt. Then Inuyasha’s Ph.D. advisor dropped the ultimatum on him: to host a plucky photographer from Chicago to help get their weather institute funded, or else.

Kagome Higurashi, for her part, couldn't wait. She’d always wanted to chase tornadoes, and wanted to see how close she could get to one, to get that perfect shot. And lord knew the chaser needed the help! And for that week stuck together in tornado alley, it’s not just the debris that’s flying.

--

Fortune Favors The Bold by @mamabearcatfanfics (M)

"Dai-kichi! The person you await comes from a distant place. Be bold! It would be good for you to send them a message." Kagome smiled as she traced her fingers over the printed fortune, picturing a dog eared boy with white flowing hair and amber eyes. Inuyasha definitely fit the description of ‘comes from a distant place’ – you couldn’t get more distant than five hundred years into the past. But what sort of message would she want to send him?

--

Shiori no Yoru by ColhanTheDeviant (T)

Kagome falls victim to hypothermia, can Inuyasha save her? My first blanket scenario!

--

When It Rains by @dawnrider (E)

Modern AU: Kagome gets caught in the rain leaving work. Cursing her luck, she tries to wait it out. Her luck takes a strange turn when she runs into her crush from college. None other than Yash Inukai. And he's very pleased to see her...

--

Hold On by @lavendertwilight89 (E)

Inuyasha and Kagome get caught in a storm. Can he help her stay warm?

--

Stranded by @keizfanfiction (E)

Kagome's car dies in an empty parking lot, she's freezing her ass off, and Sango isn't picking up her phone. Help comes from the most unlikely of sources, and after some heated arguing, childish name calling, and some pretty fantastic sex, Kagome is--what--hey waiT JUST A MINUTE NOW--

---

The Blizzard by ananova (M)

Facing a snow youkai, Kagome and Inuyasha are separated from the others. Inuyasha is injured, and they are lost in a snow storm. How will they survive?

--

Mine by jaygirl987 (E)

She was so beautiful and pure. And his.

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Base Instincts by ImaniJoain (E)

When Inuyasha is lost to his youkai half, Kagome must find a way to convince him to return to himself.

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Many Glowing Moons by Woodrosia (M)

Oneshot. Kagome is a promising young priestess training to become the Shikon Miko. On the fateful moonless night of her biggest challenge, she comes across a mysterious, handsome stranger in a cave. An incredibly passionate tryst follows.

--

Night Giggles by SamuriFish (K+)

On a summer rainy day Inuyasha and Kagome get stuck in a cave. Somethings bound to happen. inukag oneshot!

--

Feel free to add your own recs in the comments or reblogs!

Check our Masterlist of previous lists to see which topics we've covered. 

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[bookwormscififan]

Come in With the Rain

Read on AO3!

Inspo piece

A/N: Nothing like a literal rainy day to write a rainy day fic because I need some way to comfort myself.

--

The sky was a concerning shade of grey as rain fell in sheets to the ground, drenching anything and everything that got in the way. The clopping of soaked shoes against the concrete barely registered over the beating of the rain on the roofs of buildings nearby, echoing around the town.

Mad panted as he ran, nose wrinkling at the dampness he could feel on his socks inside his shoes, feet splashing through puddles and soaking his pants. He wiped uselessly at the hair plastered to his forehead from the rain, hands cold and jacket soaked. He couldn’t even tell if his cheeks were wet from the rain or his tears anymore.

The storm had come on suddenly, barely giving anyone a chance to hide away as water poured from the sky. Mad had been out on one of his rare talks at the local library, not expecting the storm and becoming drenched within seconds of stepping outside. Hugging his bookbag closely to his chest, he started running, his goal being simply to get home.

--

Mare stood at the living room window, looking out into the street as he hugged his arms around himself, watching for signs of Mad returning home. For once, he hadn’t rolled his sleeves up, pulling them down to his palms to keep warm and lighting the fireplace to help warm up the house.

The kettle had long since boiled, two mugs of coffee cooling on the kitchen counter, and Mare chewed on the inside of his cheek as he let his nerves crawl through him. Inside his mind, he chided himself for not insisting he go with Mad to the event, worried Mad was huddled somewhere in a panic.

He let out a swift sigh of relief when he spotted Mad’s burgundy jacket rounding the corner of their street, head low and clothes completely drenched. Mare raced to the door, opening it and waiting for Mad to come inside before closing and locking it.

“Dearest, you’re freezing,” Mare commented as he wrapped his arms around Mad, ignoring the damp clothes making his own wet. “I’m so glad you made it home safe. Are you alright? Did the talk go well?”

“The t-talk went f-fine,” Mad answered, teeth chattering as his body struggled to adapt to the temperature change. “I s-slipped a c-couple of t-times… scraped p-palms and knees…” He held his arms out for Mare to look at, hands shaking as he held them palms-up to show off the redness from the scrapes.

“Oh, darling,” Mare breathed, lifting Mad’s hands to press his lips to the scrapes before leading him down the hall to the bathroom. “At least you made it home. Let’s get you warmed up and dried off, then I’ll tend to the scrapes. Does that sound good?” He waited until Mad nodded before moving to remove his jacket, turning on the faucet to fill the tub with warm water.

“I didn’t know it was going to rain,” Mad mumbled as Mare guided him into the bath, shivering at the warm water hitting his rain-soaked skin. “I would have brought an umbrella if I had known. Is the jacket ruined?” He raised sad eyes to Mare, lip jutting out in a small pout as Mare gently cleaned him.

“Soon as you’re out of this bath, I’ll toss it in the dryer,” Mare replied, leaning over the rim of the bath as he moved the sponge over Mad’s skin. “It’s not leather or suede, so it shouldn’t be too bad. If it is ruined, I’ll buy you a new one.”

“I really like that jacket,” Mad said quietly, looking down at his hands in his lap, leaning into Mare’s touch as Mare gently rinsed off the soap from his hair. “I like the colour, and it isn’t scratchy like other jackets.” Keeping his head low, he allowed Mare to help him out of the tub, wrapping a fluffy towel around him and slowly beginning to dry him off.

“Stand here a minute.” Mare positioned Mad to stand under the heating light in the bathroom before picking up his wet things and leaving the room. Mad stood with his face turned toward the light, basking in the warmth until Mare came back.

“Stings,” Mad hissed as Mare gently rubbed antiseptic over his scrapes, wincing when Mare held his hand a little tighter to stop him from pulling away. “The sidewalks near the library are rough, even in a rainstorm.” His comment was soft, mind too focused on watching Mare carefully clean the scrapes and dress them with a little bit of gauze.

“You’ll be fine in a day or so,” Mare stated as he finished tending the wounds, kissing Mad’s patched-up palms before lifting him and carrying him into the closet, handing him a pair of boxers and fluffy sweatpants. “Would you like one of my cosy hoodies?” he asked with a smile, handing Mad an oversized fleece hoodie when he nodded.

--

Mare handed Mad a mug of hot coffee, sitting beside him on the couch and waiting until Mad was snuggled into his side before drinking from his own cup. The fireplace made a warm orb around the living room, blanketing Mad in warmth and comfort, and Mare watched the flush on his cheeks change from cold to warmth with a smile.

Within minutes of sitting down, Mare gently took Mad’s mug from his hand and set it on the coffee table, seeing that Mad was fast asleep with his head on Mare’s chest. Brushing his hair away from his face, Mare pressed a kiss to Mad’s temple before picking up a book and quietly starting to read.

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

@iamvegorott @brokentimewatch @dungeon-dragons-dragons

[that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction]

Remember that one scene where Arthur is training with Merlin and Merlin is fighting for his life while Arthur repeatedly knocks him on his arse? I can’t remember what episode but it was early in season 1.

I like to imagine Merlin starts being sarcastic with every hit in hopes it’ll piss Arthur off enough to storm off and leave him alone. It backfires when Arthur starts replying and it turns into a venting session.

Like, Uther said some dumb shit about Arthur? Merlin starts a fight about it.

The knights can’t follow orders? Merlin is disobedient enough that Arthur starts yelling about how dangerous it is when his men don’t follow orders.

Arthur’s feeling bad about someone he couldn’t save? Merlin makes him see why he’s doing enough by arguing with him about it and reminding him that he’s only human.

And Arthur knows what he’s doing, he catches on eventually and will occasionally walk up to Merlin, push his shoulder only enough to be annoying until Merlin stops whatever he’s doing, then Arthur will just say “Fight me.” and Merlin will either say something he knows will get Arthur angry or he’ll throw a punch he knows Arthur will block and they’ll start sparring. (Merlin learns to fight eventually, neither of them realise it’s happening until he sucker punches a bandit and he’s out cold)

Anyway, it becomes something they do to help Arthur vent his frustrations.

The best part? It works.

So Arthur sees Merlin upset. It goes on for about a week when Arthur realises what’s going on. He sits down next to Merlin on the floor one night, nudges his shoulder like he would if he wanted to fight, and says, “why are you upset? It’s not like you’ve got anything to worry about.” In a purposefully taunting way.

Merlin scowls and keeps working, and Arthur tries again, “Really. All you do is follow orders. It’s not hard.”

And so Merlin looks up, clearly angry until he sees what Arthur is trying to do, so he puts down what he’s doing and starts fighting back, “no, just exhausting when those orders are given by a prat.” Or “Maybe if I had a day off once in a while.” I don’t know, I suck at dialogue.

It goes on for a while, until they get too close to the issue, Merlin snaps, tells Arthur he’s a dick and sobs, yelling about magic, and the great dragon being manipulative, loosing his father, loosing Freya, Gaius lying to him about his father and thinking Uther is a good king and a good man, and literally everything else that’s gone wrong.

Arthur pulls him in and hugs him, then tells Merlin they’re fighting together from here on out. It takes a while, but they work it out.

There’s plenty of “fights” about Arthur feeling betrayed by Merlin keeping secrets and Merlin being mad at his situation in Camelot and then being frustrated that he can’t get himself to feel angry at Arthur (I’ve got a half baked character analysis for Merlin and Arthur’s codependency somewhere in my drafts. I’ll come back to it eventually.) but they’re okay and they figure it out and end up stronger for it.

I’m holding back on sharing the major character death/dark!Arthur angsty alternate ending for this, but let me know if you want to see it :)

Edit: Part 2 - (the angsty alternate ending)

[saradika]

— fall florals

[Free] Masterlist Headers & Dividers!

Please like or reblog if you use 💕

[xoxoemynn]

Good morning emy, idk if you've thought about Stede waking Ed up with sweet morning kisses today but if you haven't, this is your reminder to do that 😇❤️

In another life, Stede preferred nighttime to day. 

At night he could be alone. Well, he had to share a bed with Mary, yes, but he could feign sleep, and therefore it was easier to imagine he was alone. All nice and quiet and peaceful. No expectations to speak of. And then he could drift off to sleep as he rotated through some of his favorite fantasies in his mind — captaining a pirate ship, going on adventures on the high seas, swashbuckling in a fab red swishy coat and some smashing leather boots, oh, and maybe even a sash so it’d twirl all around him as he leapt to and fro, and…

Anyway!

Point is, Stede loved nighttime, because it was the only time he could fool himself into thinking he was happy. There was nothing he looked forward to more than putting on his nightcap and tucking himself into bed for a long night of dreaming.

But now? In this life?

Stede loves the morning.   

He loves the way the sun’s rays stream into the window of the bedroom he shares with Ed. He loves stretching out his arms and wiggling his fingers to get some circulation back into them before he pulls Ed into a tighter embrace. He loves the sleepy little noises Ed makes as he settles himself into Stede’s chest. He loves gently running his hand through Ed’s hair and seeing if any more silver strands sprouted overnight. 

He loves placing gentle kisses on whatever part of Ed he can reach — the top of his head, above his eyebrow, on his cheek, on his nose, down his neck and back up again. 

He loves how Ed feels wrapped up around him, all warm and languid and liquid, like a big, gorgeous cat sunning himself in love. But in a way that doesn’t sound weird. Because that does sound weird. A bit. 

But still. 

Stede loves mornings.

All nice and quiet and peaceful. No expectations to speak of. 

Just love.

Ed rolls over in Stede’s arms, taking one of Stede’s hands as he does. Smiling, Stede turns his focus to the new area of skin Ed very kindly bared for kisses. He peppers soft kisses all over Ed's back, gentle and sweet, each one a reminder to Ed:

Hello, my love.

I’m here.

I love this life we’ve built together.

We’ll get our first guest at the inn some day.

You’re beautiful.

You’re wonderful.

You’re mine.

And then Stede feels Ed pull his hand to his lips, and Ed presses a kiss there, and Stede squeezes his hand back.

“Morning, love.” Ed’s voice is still raspy with sleep, just one more thing Stede loves about the mornings. “Have a good night's sleep?”

“Yes,” Stede replies, and tugs Ed closer to him. “And now I can't wait to start our day.”  

[animezinglife]

"'I remembered rain was necessary,' she says finally. 'For the flowers to grow and for their roots to take hold." - What's in the Rain (@animezinglife/@wyse_ink)

Elucien ficlet moodboard for a rainy day. 😌

[tozettastone]

Five fun sized KakuHida one shot ideas—

ONE

Hidan has a deeply dumb business idea. Whatever it is, it is so so stupid. It makes zero sense in a rational market. It's also wildly successful anyway because Hidan is hot, and that's more of a superpower than being smart or having a bloodline limit and MAYBE more of a superpower than being functionally immortal. It totally defies Kakuzu's predictions (which were of course of failure and collapse). Hidan is a terrible winner. He's also gone and donated all his profit to an obscure monastery in the back hills off the swampy end of Hot Water. He says money makes you dumb, and also sinful. Mostly dumb. Kakuzu is going to kill him. Like, again. Harder this time.

TWO

Hidan and Kakuzu have been married in the secular (and thus meaningless) sense for tax reasons for several years now, but recently Kakuzu has realised he can get free food at all sorts of places if they pretend they're honeymooning. He has been 'honeymooning with Hidan' for eighteen months now. The rest of the Akatsuki are pretty evenly split on what the hell kind of relationship this is, which is why today Deidara has embarked on the incredibly fucked up mission of interrogating Hidan's severed head about his sex life, yeah.

THREE

Hidan is a nightmare travelling companion. He is variously: too cold (put a shirt on), bored, tired, sunburned (put a shirt on), hungry, sick (shouldn't have eaten that, then), dirty, damp and miserable... Kakuzu has killed him five times this week alone, and so far all it's done is make him complain that he's bloody and he needs another bath. The next time he slings the body over his shoulder and carries the head in the crook of one arm, mouth sewn shut and hands inaccessible. It does not help.

FOUR

Itachi and Kakuzu must work together when the Akatsuki is hired to defraud someone's insurance provider via a genjutsu that can fool the insurance adjuster. Kakuzu is bringing the knowledge and context, and Itachi is bringing the godlike genjutsu skills. Itachi-san is on time, polite, quiet, and absolutely professional. He respects Kakuzu's combat abilities and bizarrely complete understanding of insurance regulations. Kakuzu respects his genjutsu skills. They're nailing their mission, effortlessly! Also, just as an aside: it's been three days since Kakuzu last heard someone complain about blood in his hair or scream a hymn to suffering twenty minutes before dawn, and he thinks he's losing his fucking mind. He's... unstable. Mentally. Mentally unstable. That's the only possible reason. Obliquely he broaches this with Itachi, who is an actual foetus and who is definitely judging him. It doesn't help and it's mortifying.

(I think this one needs POV breaks where we switch to Hidan, who is bored out of his mind and driving Kisame to drink.)

FIVE

There's finally a bounty taken out on Hidan, which has taken a damn long time to arrive because a) nobody cares about shinobi from Hot Water, really and b) most of the time Hidan doesn't leave enough people alive for anyone to notice how much of a menace he is. Kakuzu is having an amazing week. He's handed Hidan's head and body off in two pieces at six different drop points this week alone. He just sits on a rock and counts his lovely, lovely money until his partner stumbles back down the road, covered in blood, holding his head on one-handed, and glaring and wildly annoyed about it. And then he just does it again. Kakuzu has made so much money. Finally, one weird trick that works.

[bi-hop]

all of this is probably gonna be reworked when I'm not in "QUICK, jot down fic snippets while you work on a university project" mode but since the last preview for this university AU was just kabru and rin at their apartment, wanted to actually post these two talking

without any evidence to back this up, I think Kabru has a great memory for regional accents and likes looking up the meaning of names. it's his favorite party trick. he talks to you for 5 minutes and then goes "so how were summers in Kahka Brud?" even though you never mentioned you were from there, actually, but it's fine because he sincerely listens to your answer and offers his own commentary. I saw all of this in a vision. *exits stage left, pursued by a basilisk*

[sprout-fics]

Pov: you have a stray König in your little cottage loft thingy

Idk why i drew this 😃

Are those wolf ears? 😭 Please I love him, I want to carry him around in my pocket

[sarahsmi13s]

Bloodstained Sandbags

whumptober day 1 : bloody knuckles

pairing: eddie diaz x reader

characters: eddie diaz, fem!reader, christopher diaz, evan buckley, scott (oc)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, nightmares, panic attacks, crying, blood, disassociation, SA (not in vivid detail, but it is spoken about), language, caretaking, PTSD, resetting a dislocated shoulder, talks of therapy, mentions of underground fighting, please tell me if i missed any

word count: ~5.6k

a/n: this is for whumptober! please please please proceed with caution and use discretion, protect your peace

also if you are on the whump taglist but are not familiar with a character, you can skip it will not hurt my feelings!

whumptober 2023 masterlist

summary: healing is draining and you're trying everything you can to stay afloat... can a new workout routine help keep you above water as you support eddie through his trauma while you work through your own?

You really thought that when Eddie started working at the dispatch center, things were going to get better for you. You thought you would sleep better, your nightmares fading away as you always had your protector next to you now. You were safe, no one could hurt you with Eddie at your side.

But it didn’t seem to matter, because you couldn’t close your eyes without being back in that damn break room – the break room you no longer set foot in.

It was like even though you knew you were safe with Eddie… a sick, twisted part of you kept reminding you that Eddie wouldn’t always be there to protect you.

And the thing was, Eddie had no idea. 

No idea that you were struggling. That for months you were feeling sick to your stomach everytime you got up to get ready for work. That you wanted his touch but had a mini panic attack every time he touched you when you weren’t expecting it.

But he had no idea what happened to you either. You were afraid to tell him. Afraid he’d leave you, though logically you knew he would never do that. 

Except there wasn’t a good time to tell him, either. He was having a hard time with his PTSD and you were doing the best you could to help him while also trying to keep yourself above water.

Which is why you started going to the gym… The sweating, the adrenaline, all of it just made you feel stronger.

And that’s where you picked up on learning to fight, you wanted to be ready. Ready to protect yourself or Christopher if the situation presented itself and Eddie wasn’t around.

You sighed as you walked into yours and Eddie’s apartment, your body stiff and sore from your workout. You managed to scrape your knuckles just a little bit too but it wasn’t too noticeable.

You hung your purse up and set your gym bag down. “Eddie? Chris?”

You heard Eddie’s voice come from the kitchen. “We’re in here, Honey!” 

You smiled and walked into the kitchen, seeing them at the table. “How are my boys?” You went over and kissed them both on the head, “I’m sorry if I made you wait, I got really in the zone at the gym and the traffic was a monster.” 

“Oh it’s no problem, I was just getting started on the veggies. Why don’t you go shower and it should be ready by the time you're done,” Eddie said as he stood and kissed the side of your head before returning to cutting the vegetables. 

You nodded at him before ruffling Chris’s hair, “Do you have any homework you need help with?” He nodded, “Yeah, math stuff.” “Alrighty, I’ll help you after dinner, okay?” “Okay.”

Smiling, you kissed his head again before going to take a shower.

Once you went into the bathroom, you were all too ready to peel the sweaty gym clothes off of you.

Your leggings peeled off with a wet sound, and if someone heard it they would have thought that you jumped into the ocean with your clothes on. The collar of your cutout t-shirt was soaked enough that you could ring it out. Your sports bra was practically the same way.

“I went way harder than I thought…” you mumbled to yourself as you dropped your clothes into a pile and checked the temperature of your shower.

Scalding hot, just like you liked it.

You stepped under the water, wincing slightly at the initial bite of the heat on your skin. But as you stood there under the water both the heat and pressure seemed to massage your muscles, allowing you to relax.

The shower was the only way you could get a massage, it was the only place you allowed yourself to feel vulnerable.

And you never went to a masseuse at all because Eddie was enough. But now, after everything that happened, the idea of being pinned under someone with your back exposed and their hands on you like that could send you into a panic attack.

He had tried once after he started his therapy sessions, realizing he had been neglecting you and wanted to help you work out the soreness of your muscles. 

But you were fighting a panic attack the whole time. You had to hold a conversation with him and ask him to not put his full weight on you. He cooperated without question of course and then you sat and chatted about your day.

Though you haven’t let him do it since, fearing that you would be able to hold it together and freak out on him.

Showers were your source of muscle relaxation. So that’s why you stood there, water pressure on pulse and heat turned up to hell.

When you felt satisfied, you turned the temperature down and finished your shower, ending with a cold rinse just to soothe your skin before getting out and getting dressed in a pair of shorts and one of Eddie’s shirts then joining the boys for dinner.

Eddie watched you wash dishes with a smile on his face as he leaned against the fridge.

He had cleaned out the sink, putting plates, bowls, utensils, and cups into the dishwasher while you were helping Chris with homework. But now you were working on pots and pans because they just didn’t fit in the dishwasher with the other things, often needing to be washed separately – and that took too long for your liking.

So after getting Chris settled down in his room, Eddie came back to watch you, wanting to spend alone time with you since you rarely got that lately. 

Not that he was necessarily mad about it, he respected boundaries when and where you set them – no questions asked.

But he was pulled to action when he heard you wince, taking a step and a half to meet you as you turned for a towel.

“What happened?” Eddie asked, holding your hand as you dabbed it dry, wincing as you did so.

You shook your head, not answering him as you took the towel away to blow on the raw skin of your busted knuckles. You had gotten lemon juice and salt on them from cleaning the cutting board you had used this morning, and it hurt like a bitch.

Eddie froze for a second. Where had you gotten bruised and scraped up knuckles from? You hadn’t had those this morning…

In a quick scan, he checked you over for injuries. If you had a bruised cheekbone or black-eye that he somehow missed during dinner. But you were clean, so he could cross fight off the list. 

“Nena… what happened?” 

His voice was gentle as he took the towel away from you and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles. He was worried, because last time he started coming home with busted knuckles he was underground fighting…

But you wouldn’t do that? Would you?

“I was at the gym and I scraped it, not a big deal.”

He nodded and rubbed his thumb gently over it. “Let me finish the dishes.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. Eddie was going to finish the dishes, and he wasn’t going to argue.

You sighed and moved out of the way, letting him take over but you didn’t leave and instead wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head on his back. After your day at work and then going so hard at the gym, you need this comfort. The domesticity of it all, the safety of it all.

Over the next few weeks things seemed to be getting a little better. Sure, you were still having nightmares and coming home with slightly bruised knuckles but Eddie’s surprise touches didn’t spook you anymore. You were also considering becoming more intimate with Eddie again as he seemed to be doing better as well and was seeking out the contact again. 

Things were just slowly coming back to normal, well as normal as the could be, but things were getting better

But then something happened at work, and it set all of your progress back.

You were walking to your desk from the supply closet with more file folders, since you were doing some re-organizing and needed new ones, when you bumped into someone.

They caught you before you fell, steadying you with their hands on your waist. Huffing out a surprised laugh, you looked up to thank them but you nearly choked on air when you saw whose hands were on you.

Panic shot through you like lightning and you put distance between you and Scott immediately, not caring if it was rude or not.

“Woah, Y/N, you okay?” He asked, but the smirk pulling at the corner of his lips told you that he knew the answer. 

How could you be okay? After not seeing him that up close for months, then all of a sudden his hands are on you again and you’re back to being the weak little girl you were in the break room that night.

“S-S-Scott, I-I thought you were um late shift?” You stuttered, your eyes looking for escapes to your desk in your periphery. 

He put a hand in his pocket nonchalantly, attempting to lure you into a false sense of security, that that side of his body was safe to escape through – it wasn’t.

“Oh, I am, but I decided to come in on a Saturday. I needed another day on my paycheck since I took a day off this week.” 

You nodded, jaw setting and grinding your back teeth together as you tried to avoid looking at his face. “I see. Well Scott, if you’ll excuse me I need to get… get back to my desk.” You cursed yourself for starting so confident but then losing it as the breath just slowly got pulled from your lungs.

Scott just smirked. He could see the fear in your eyes and the cottonmouth you were getting just being in his presence. He thrived on it, knowing that corporate wasn’t going to follow up on the claim you made to HR and that you weren’t in a great position to quit so you had to stay for just a little longer.

But he just caught you one unlucky night where you had to stay late to finish a project, considering you didn’t work the night hours because you usually needed to be home with Chris because Eddie was working a shift. The one time Buck was off you took advantage of it and stayed late to catch up. 

And you haven’t stayed late since…

“Oh, by all means, don’t let me stop you, I was just on my way to get some coffee.”

You were trying so hard not to clam up and just bolt to your desk and pack up. But you calmly nodded and just squatted down to pick up the folders you dropped.

You hated having your back to him and your hands shook furiously as you collected the pale yellow folders.

“You look like you could use a break, why don’t you join me?” Scott’s voice was right in your ear. It was low and raspy as his hand gripped your shoulder.

Trying your best to just shrug it off, you shook your head. “No, I’m alright. I need to get back to work.”

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, “I insist.” His voice was demanding as his fingers curled around your joint and dug into your collarbone. 

Instantly your arm shot up and pushed him off you. “I said no.”

You scooped up the remaining folders and dignity and went toward your desk. Just to have fingers curled around your wrist and pulling you back into a hard chest. 

“I’m trying to be nice and you’re being a bitch.”

Rolling your lips between your teeth, you tried to yank your wrist away – twisting and pulling at his grip to get him to let go. “You just don’t know how to understand the word ‘no’. I don’t want coffee, I just want to go to my desk.”

You swallowed, finally looking in his eyes, shredding any last dignity you had. “Please Scott… you got what you wanted, just leave me alone… please…”

The canines he bared as he smiled wide made you sick to your stomach, but as he opened his mouth to speak his attention was pulled away and you took that chance to free yourself. You twisted your wrist and pushed the files into his chest before booking it to your desk.

After gathering your things and rushing to your manager’s office, pleading to her with shaky hands as you told her something had happened and you needed to get home to Chris.

She immediately let you leave, not questioning it as you thanked her and ran out to your car.

The drive home was a total blur, taking the turns on auto pilot as you tried not to break down before you were in the safety of your own home and not risking anyone else’s safety.

And when you finally got home, you were booking it to the fridge to get a cold water bottle to maybe shock your system into calming down. But in your haste you missed the fact that Buck and Chris are home, and not out at the aquarium like you thought they were.

Buck had heard you come in and watched you nearly trip over yourself to get to the kitchen, abandoning your purse and keys on the floor.

Chris had seen it too and looked at Buck concerned, having never once seen you like this. “Buck?” Buck ruffled Chris’s hair, “I’ll go see what’s up. You stay here okay?” Chris just nodded and watched Buck get up and go to the kitchen.

Buck went to the kitchen, finding you chugging the cold water as you white knuckled the counter.

“Y/N? You’re home early.”

The way you jumped, hand clenching around the bottle so hard that water shot out of it – it would have been comical had the dilated look in your wide eyes not set off alarm bells in Buck’s head. 

You watched, caught like a deer in headlights, as concern washed over Buck’s face and filled his eyes with pity. Immediately your back was turned to him, shielding your breaking resolve from his helping hand. 

With the blood pounding in your ears, you missed his approach until he was touching you. You jerked again under his touch, weakly muttering out, “P-please don’t touch me.” 

Buck’s heart sank. He had never heard you sound like this before… so broken…

It sent him back to the night Eddie had destroyed your room in a fit of helplessness, how terrified his best friend was. How you sat with Eddie, him now remembering your bruised knuckles encasing Eddie’s in an act of comfort.

“Y/N… what happened? What’s wrong?”

“No-nothing, just-just…”

He tried to turn you and get you to face him, to get a read on your face and figure out what to do. But you yelped and pushed him back, sending his stunned 6’2” frame into the table.

“Buck you need to leave…”

“Y/N-”

“Leave Evan!”

Buck swallowed, trying not to be hurt as he turned on his heel and went to say goodbye to Christopher.

You watched him leave the kitchen, your ears hot and tingling as you looked at the mess you made. You needed to clean it up before Chris came in here and slipped.

Hearing Buck close the front door, you carefully made your way to the laundry room to get a dirty bath towel to clean it up. Your vision tunneled, your ears rang and you felt that sick snag in your chest as the air was stopping half way down your throat.

By the time you get there your legs can barely hold you up as you get to the washer and sink down to the floor. Sobs are wracking your chest and you can only pray Chris can’t hear you.

But your prayers went unanswered, because Chris can hear you and he is scared. 

Your broken sobs and ragged breathing are reminding him of the night Eddie punched those holes in the wall… and the night you came home and took a long shower thinking Chris was asleep and couldn’t hear you crying through the wall.

Chris abandoned the video game in front of him and put himself on a mission to find you. He could follow the sound of your cries to where you were sitting on the cold floor, head between your knees as you tried to breathe regularly.

“Y/N?” He gently called out, hoping you could hear him.

He watched you thread your hands in your hair and pull at the roots, sucking in jagged breaths just for them to be forced out with the next sob.

He didn’t like seeing you like this and he hated that he wasn’t sure how to help. But he knew he had to try.

Chris called out your name again as he approached you, not wanting to scare you and send you further into your panic. You must have recognized his voice because you seemed to calm down just a bit. He sat down on the floor next to you and put his hands on yours on top of your head. 

“You’re safe, it’s okay, Y/N. I’m here.” He recalled the phrases you had repeated to him when he was having trouble after the tsunami. He had to pull from what he was shown, he had barely anything to go off of and he just had to hope that it was enough.

With Chris putting his hands on yours, talking to you gently, you could feel yourself slowly calming down. His hands were so drastically different from the ones that had bruised your skin, that it managed to remind you that you were home and that you were safe.

“Please, Y/N…”

You look up at him slowly, your hands letting go of your hair and holding his hands. “It’s okay, you’re safe.” Chris moved your hands to his face, hoping that it can help to ground you.

Your thumbs immediately began to rub back and forth on his cheeks, him taking deep breaths to help you find a rhythm. “Follow me, Y/N. Just like you tell me…” 

Chris watched the fog clear from your eyes as you began to calm down and lean forward to press a kiss to his head as a thank you before resting your forehead on his. He wrapped his arms around you as best he could and you pulled him into your lap, your head falling to his shoulder.

You sat there for a bit in silence, rubbing Chris’s back as you managed to collect yourself.

“I’m sorry if I scared you, Chris. I didn’t mean to,” you apologized, breaking the silence. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft and gentle as he pulled back a little. You’re nodding immediately, “I’m better now, thank you buddy.” 

“Do I need to call Dad?” 

You shook your head, “No, it’s okay. I’ll be alright.”

He nodded before tilting his head a little, “Why are you mad at Buck? Did he do something bad?” 

Your heart sank. He had heard you yell at Buck, and you hardly ever yelled around Chris – if ever. And now you’ve come home early, yelled at one of your best friends, and had a full blown panic attack with Christopher as a witness.

“Oh Chris… Buck didn’t do anything wrong. I shouldn’t have yelled at him. I’m not mad.”

“Why did you yell at him?”

“I was just feeling a lot of things and it was just what happened. I could have handled it better and I will in the future,” you said gently as you pushed some of his curls back.

You sniffled a little bit, “Why don’t you go back to the living room and I’ll make you some lunch after I get changed?” You gave him the best smile you could and kissed his forehead after he nodded.

“Okay, let’s go.”

Eddie had come home around 5:30 to you already finishing up on getting dinner ready. 

“Honey? What are you doing home?”

“Oh, I got the stuff I need to get done early so I decided to just come home,” you said nonchalantly with a shrug. 

He smiled and came up behind you to kiss your cheek before he went to get changed. But as he placed his hand on the small of your back, you jumped. 

Eddie’s brow furrowed, you had never reacted like that to him. But he didn’t get to ask you, because you turned your head and planted a kiss on his lips. “I love you, Eddie.” He smiled softly and kissed your forehead, “I love you too, Y/N.”

You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face into his shoulder, smelling his coffee and whiskey body spray. He hugged you back, albeit a little confused, but he could tell you needed this.

After a few moments, you pulled back, “Go get changed and cleaned up, I’ll have it plated for you by the time you get back.” He nodded and kissed your temple, “Yes ma’am.”

You smiled and pecked his jaw before he went to change.

When he came back, Eddie found you and Chris at the table, his plate made up for him just like you said it would be.

“It looks fantastic, Honey, thank you,” he said, announcing his presence before touching your shoulder and kissing the top of your head. You smiled at him, “Of course, Sweetheart.” He sat down next to you, his hand on your thigh, just resting there as you ate. 

You talked about his day and everything that went on – you having been getting his twitter notifications and just wanted a little more detail.

But when he turned and asked you about your day, you clammed up and just told him it was like any other day, you just skipped the gym today because you wanted to surprise him with dinner. And you left it at that, leaving no more room for conversation about your day.

After dinner you all went to the living room to watch movies before Chris went to bed. It was your weekend routine.

Except tonight you broke routine.

You decided that you wanted to go ahead and go to the gym, just to get a small workout in before you went to bed. So, after you did the dishes you got in your gym clothes and gave Chris a hug and Eddie a quick kiss before leaving.

It had all happened so quickly that Eddie didn’t get a chance to really slow you down and ask you what was up. This behavior was just so off to him that he just wanted an explanation.

And he did… just not from you.

After you lifted weights for God knows how long, you finally went over to the punching bag.

You had been on autopilot the moment you left the house. 

And yeah, you felt bad for just leaving Eddie hanging like that. Giving him no explanation other than you just wanted to. But you had been thrumming since your panic attack, using that energy on deep cleaning and laundry — too on edge to rest or sit still.

You needed an aggressive outlet for all that energy, you had to get to the gym.

So that’s where you’ve been. Lifting weights and running until near collapse. 

Now you were hastily wrapping your hands to take it all out on the punching bag. The poor inanimate object becoming the true outlet of your emotions, taking blow after blow as you wail on it. Your emotions from earlier in the day being released in the form of punches. 

You hated that Scott was able to revert you back to the scared girl you were that night, smothering all the progress you had thought you made.

The swinging sandbag in front of you felt like a wall as you hit it with every you had. Flashes of that night played behind your closed lids as you seemingly lost control.

You could feel his hands on you again, touching you with evil intentions. His hands mocked Eddie, tainted the loving touch of your boyfriend with his greediness. 

Your hips digging into the counter, bruised with the force of Scott pinning you in place. You couldn’t escape, you didn’t know how to escape.

With each moment flashing, each ghostly touch reminding you of what he did to you in the break room, you punched harder — oblivious to the pain shooting up your arm with each solid hit.

You couldn’t stop. You didn’t want to stop. 

You just wanted it all to go away.

And in those moments you didn’t feel the tears running down your cheeks, you were numb. You hadn’t noticed the break in your poorly wrapped tape, which allowed your bare knuckles to meet with the canvas bag.

The tears and dissociation blurred your vision and you were blind to the fact the red spots and streaks covering the rough beige fabric was your own blood.

You had broken the skin on your knuckles, staining the sandbag with your blood as tears stained your cheeks.

But when you land a particularly hard punch and your shoulder pops grotesquely next to your ear do you snap out of it.

“Oh fuck!”

Your curse was picked up by a nearby girl who had come in at the same time as you.

“Oh my goodness! Are you okay?!”

Your head whipped up to look at her and you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. 

You didn’t look good, covered head to toe in red splotches and sweat. You looked down at your knuckles and saw that your tape was practically non-existent and your hand was covered in crimson.

“Ma’am? Are you okay?”

You blinked and looked at the girl. “Yeah… yes yes I’m fine. I just… I need to go home. My boyfriend is probably worried.”

“Are you sure? That crack sounded bad…”

“Thank you for your concern but I’m alright. You have a good night and be safe, please.”

She could only nod as you quickly grabbed your bag and went out to your car.

You knew you’d be driving with just one arm and you really didn’t want to deal with an midnight ER on a Saturday night so you went straight home — knowing that you’d need Eddie.

Eddie sat in the living room, his knee bouncing with nerves as he waited for you to get home.

You hadn’t answered your phone and he was starting to get worried. With his line of work, he was already thinking the worst. Did you get into an accident? Did you get taken? He had his radio on the coffee table listening closely while he waited, hoping that he didn’t hear anything related to you come over the device.

Then he heard it. The front door opening and closing followed by keys in the bowl and a bag hitting the floor.

You were home, so at least there’s that relief.

He looked up and over as you walked by, arm cradling the other as you sniffled.

“Chris was worried about you.”

Eddie watched you tense, but you didn’t turn to face him.

He stood walking over to you. “He told me you had a panic attack when you came home today, you know, after you yelled at Buck to leave. Then you weren’t here when he went to bed. He knows something is wrong, and he’s worried it’s his fault.”

That made you turn, allowing Eddie to see the rush of tears on your face as you still cradled your arm.

“No, God no. This is nowhere near Chris’s fault.” Your voice was thick with emotion as you spoke and the realization dawned on you that you would have to tell Eddie everything.

“Did I do something? Because I thought we talked about things and worked things out. If I did, please tell me… I want to fix it… I can’t lose you…”

“Oh Eddie…”

“Please mi vida…” Eddie’s voice was soft and low as he rubbed your arms.

You covered your mouth, attempting to conceal the sob of pain and regret. But you couldn’t hide the small yelp or your bloody fist.

Concerned, Eddie put his hands on your shoulders, freezing when he felt the slipped ball and socket joint and you sobbed into your hand.

“Sweetheart?”

“Fix it… please, it hurts so bad…”

Eddie nodded and carefully got himself into position, “You ready?” “Just do i- AH!” Mid sentence, Eddie popped your shoulder back into place.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he soothed as you sobbed into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry Eddie… I’m so sorry…”

He ran a hand through the hair at the back of your head, “Hey, lets get your hands cleaned up okay? Then we’ll talk, yeah?”

You nodded before stepping back, instinctively wiping your face with the back of your hand — smearing a little blood on your face.

Eddie tensed a little, that was the worst he’s seen your knuckles and it was starting to look suspicious to him. But you had come home the other times with no other injuries so he had no reason to question you about it.

But he could see clearly that something was wrong. Very wrong.

Eddie gently grabbed your hand and took you to the kitchen.

Without a word he sat you on the counter and grabbed the med kit from under the sink. 

You both stayed quiet as he dampened a towel and  cleaned you up, he inspected for tenderness and any signs of trauma to your hands other than the obvious.

Once he was done, you both sat in silence for a moment before you spoke up.

“It’s not what it may look like…”

“Oh yeah? Cause it looks like you’ve been fighting. I've seen the bruises on your knuckles but I don’t say anything because I didn’t want to assume. But after today I don’t know what to think.”

Your eyes fill with tears and you shake your head. “That’s not it, I swear. It’s just…” A weight settled on your chest as you realized this was the moment you would have to tell him and possibly change your relationship forever.

“Honey… please talk to me, I’m scared. I don’t want to lose you.”

And with that the damn was broken and you sobbed into your hands.

Eddie gave you a moment to calm down, comforting you as best he could until you were ready.

Once you were composed, you spilled everything.

From you needing to stay late to you going to the break room for a snack to when Scott walked in and shoved your dignity in the paper shredder.

Eddie was listening intently, his rage rising in his body but he tried not to show it and keep a gentle expression for your sake. 

But hearing you, here and now, sounding so ashamed and scared. Recounting the night in detail. 

And he had been so caught up in the job change that he hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t noticed that the love of his life was suffering because he wasn’t there. 

It wasn’t until his son came to him that he noticed something was wrong. 

“Eddie, I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry,” you sobbed, clinging onto him. “It didn’t… I didn’t want it, please you have to believe me.”

He felt his heart shatter in his chest. 

You were begging for forgiveness for something that wasn’t your fault. 

“I believe you Sweetheart, I believe you.” 

He pulled back a little, “I-Is this why you’ve been going to the gym?” You nodded, whimpering a little as more tears filled your eyes, “You won’t always be there… and I just… I want to be ready to protect myself or Christopher.”

You held your hand up and flexed it a little, “I saw Scott for the first time since that night today at work, that’s why I had the panic attack. And I needed an outlet, I didn’t know I was bleeding until I dislocated my shoulder.”

Eddie wiped your eyes, “Y/N I’m so sorry I never noticed… I should have been there…” You shake your head, “I didn’t tell you Eddie, you were going through a lot and I didn’t want to add on…”

He frowned a little but kissed your forehead. It made him feel awful that you thought you couldn’t come to him. You were processing something alone while helping him get better and that wasn’t fair. 

“Would you be willing to go to a professional about this? For you and for us? Just so we can learn to get through this together,” he laced your fingers together and kissed your knuckles. 

You nodded and pressed your forehead to his, “I want to try.” You brought in a breath, “I have to quit my job…” 

He hummed and nodded against you, “Please quit, I make enough, we'll be okay. And we can pull from savings if we need to.”

“Thank you.”

Eddie nudged your nose with his, “I love you, so much.” 

You smiled softly and flattened your palm over his heart, “I love you too, Eds. So so much.”

He wrapped you in his arms and just held you there. Planting gentle kisses to your head and whispering little jokes in your ear to make you laugh.

And that’s when you knew that it would all be okay, that it would be better. Maybe not tomorrow, but someday.

As long as you had Eddie, you would be okay.

taglists: @bradleybeachbabe @valmare @fanboyswhore9 @cassiemitchell @startrekfangirl2233

hi, if you're seeing this and are currently not on the taglist and would like to be please fill out the taglist form -> whumptober taglist

i can not stress this enough, but whumptober can have some very serious and heavy topics and i want to make sure i am doing my part as an author to prepare my readers for what they are about to experience and that includes not only warnings above but my taglists as well

so if you want to be added check out the masterlist and read that carefully and fill out the form -> whumptober 2023

[fruitcoops]

Nothing But Sincerity

Fic O'Ween Day 6: Rainy Day, inspired by a Day 3 art piece by @tobi-tobi-tobi that was shared on the server! Coops credit to @lumosinlove, fest cred to @noots-fic-fests <3

Sirius made a disappointed sound and clicked his tongue behind his teeth. “Practice got cancelled.”

“Oh, no,” Remus said, pulling his socks off. “Thunderstorms?”

Sirius nodded; their thickest blanket slid easily off the back of the couch. “Dangerous roads and flood warnings.”

“Man, that sucks.” The kettle gave a soft snick as Remus put his slippers on.

“I was really hoping to go today,” Sirius agreed while he kicked the far fleece edge down over his feet. Outside, lightning cracked from the gathering clouds.

“Sounds like we can’t make plans with the guys, either,” Remus called from the kitchen, where he was pouring a marinated pork loin into a baking dish.

“Oh, mais non. Can’t ask them to drive in this. How are we going to survive?”

The squeak of the oven door cut off Remus’ soft tutting. “It’s been ages since we had the house to ourselves. Evening practice is the only thing I was looking forward to today.”

Sirius hummed his agreement as the DVD tray snicked shut. He made it back to the couch just as Remus dried his hands on a kitchen towel, and left one side of the blanket conveniently flipped up while he laid down again with a long, satisfied exhale. “This is going to be really difficult,” he mused.

The Great Pumpkin Waltz rose to the very corners of the room like an exhale over thunder. Remus reached back and pulled his shirt over his head, then slid beneath the blanket and splayed himself across Sirius’ front, kissing a smile into his mouth. “Jeez, Captain, I can’t think of a single thing to do with a rainy-day recess.”

Perhaps Sirius broke first, but Remus wasn’t far behind. Laughter overwhelmed the first few lines of the movie—enough that Sirius had to rummage around for the remote and rewind to the very beginning, despite the best efforts of tiny kisses to his neck to distract him. Remus’ back was warm under the long pass of his hand. He buried his nose in the soft curls just above Remus’ ear and took a deep breath, then let it go, so their weight sank into the plush cushions below them.

“I don’t want to do anything at all.”

Remus kissed the side of his neck again. “Cheers.”

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Kiss me there.”

“Cause I love you.”

“Well, yes, but why there?”

Remus shrugged one shoulder and shuffled the blanket up around his neck. “Easy access. Right height. Beauty mark. Stop talking, don’t you know I’m trying to watch the movie?”

Sirius swatted him under the thick fleece, but he just laughed. “You’ve seen this a million times.”

“It’s October and rainy, baby. Charlie Brown was made for this.”

“Hmph.”

“Hmph. You sound like Dumo.” He pulled a face and Remus grinned, nuzzling into the scruffy part of his cheek. “Hedgehog. Wanna come chop some broccoli with me?”

Broccoli did sound nice. Crispy and smoky on the ends, the way Remus liked it, if they put it in now and let it roast with the pork. Sirius let his arms come up around the broad curve of Remus’ ribs and rest heavy on each measured inhale. A peek over his shoulder toward the dim kitchen; he couldn’t tell whose legs were whose beneath the blanket. “Ouais, sounds good.”

“Hmph.” Hot air puffed over his throat. “Well, now I don’t want to get up.”

“Hey, I didn’t suggest broccoli.”

“I know, I know, but now I have to.”

“Non.”

“Non?”

“Nothing you have to do tonight.” His thumb had settled near the base of Remus’ ribcage for a few quiet strokes. “You love this movie.”

Remus seemed to ponder that for a moment. His heart thudded the calm rhythm Sirius had grown accustomed to falling asleep to. “We’ll pause at the Red Baron,” he finally said. “Then broccoli, super quick.”

“Mhmm.”

Sirius fully expected the Red Baron to pass them by without a twitch of movement. But true to his word, Remus paused the movie, and sat up with monumental effort. “Up, up, up.” Each word was punctuated by a pat to Sirius’ bare chest. “Let’s go, five minutes.”

“I can’t move.”

“I won’t get up by myself.”

“Non, I can’t move,” Sirius snorted, tugging at Remus’ thighs where he straddled his lap. “Up, up, up, loup.”

“No, I’m comfortable,” came the half-laugh, half-groan as Remus braced his hands on the armrest for a sleepy-cat stretch. He blinked slowly at the television a few times, as if it would save him from his self-imposed torment. Sirius poked him in the belly, just to be helpful.

They managed to make it to the kitchen, but not after much hemming and hawing and old-man joint pops from them both. “I should not be creaky at 28,” Sirius sighed, pressing his hands above his head with a yawn before moving to the fridge.

“You want rice, Old Man McGee?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, I already turned the—” Remus gestured at the rice cooker. “—thing on.”

“Rice cooker. It’s literally in the name.”

A kiss popped against the corner of Sirius’ mouth like bubblegum. “Aren’t you supposed to be chopping broccoli?”

“Hey, hey, wait, come kiss me again.”

He didn’t have to ask twice. Remus spun on his heel with pleased interest written all over his face and backed Sirius up against the countertop, paying no mind to the fresh box of butter between them. His hands moved softly over Sirius’ hips, just above the band of his pajama pants, before settling on his waist as he pressed up for a kiss. His wedding ring was cool on Sirius’ skin. Moonlit rain pattered against the kitchen window. The storm would probably lash the house later, but Sirius didn’t think either of them would be awake long enough to notice or care.

[novakiart]

idk if ur still taking recs but I've been reading spideypool for like 8 years so please I love to share:

sorry if any of these have already been recommended!

maybe my all time favorite series, https://archiveofourown.org/series/44337

followed by one of my favorites, if you love fantasy, https://archiveofourown.org/works/13116939

if you like some more spidery-Peter, https://archiveofourown.org/works/12664023

Peter is literally a spider for part of this, its very cute I promise, https://archiveofourown.org/works/24971248

well-developed antagonist, https://archiveofourown.org/series/1162418

autistic Peter, long fic, really well developed villains, https://archiveofourown.org/works/5962876

not my usual type of fic but it's a good one! https://archiveofourown.org/works/28496034

VERY angst but soooo good, https://archiveofourown.org/series/2432785

love me some queer culture and activism, https://archiveofourown.org/works/14729937

venom!!, https://archiveofourown.org/works/20032078

nurse Peter, https://archiveofourown.org/works/11859168

grumpy wade! cats! Peter is a vet, https://archiveofourown.org/works/1986090

team up with daredevil, https://archiveofourown.org/works/10660632

I know this was so many sorry😭😭 I'm obsessed. enjoy! please update if you read any <3

omg omg it's never too late to send me recs! bless you! I'll have to give these a looksee

[internetgremlin-writes]

I see you’re doing some recommendations 👀👀 what about for Seb and Danny ric??

Okay before we get into this one: I actually don't read many fics for the other drivers (aka those who are not Carlos Sainz) and because I read Maxiel on AO3 I've barely read ANY Daniel x Reader/OC works so this list is BY NO MEANS exhaustive and I would recommend checking out @sgkophie who has just done a bunch of excellent recommendations for more detail

Anyway

SEB:

005 by @daniel-ricciardhoe OH. MY. GOD. This is hands down the BEST smutty one-shot I've ever read. It has everything including Seb and a James Bond party. It's fun and sexy and perfectly in character

Paddle to the Metal by @daniel-ricciardhoe this one is... HOT. A little bit different and featuring our favourite flirty, competitive Seb and a game of table tennis

Not a single fic rec because there are far too many to choose from but if you like Seb just do yourself a favour and follow @kates-dirty-sister for the absolute motherload of fantastically written Seb fics

Rekindle by @enchantestuff another smutty one... this time featuring Nightclub!Seb and when I say I was sweating at the end of it hhooo BOY

DANNY RIC

I've said it before but Champagne Problems by @tiredbuthappy is a must. I will admit I read it because of Carlos and not Danny, but this was THE fic that made me go "Oh wait I love Daniel too"

Swimming Lessons (but also literally everything by @harley-sunday) is so fun and lighthearted and the flirting in it is top tier

Bucking Bronko by @daniel-ricciardhoe (im such a fangirl for you haha) an astounding smut set during an Austin race weekend

Mile High by @enchantestuff is also a chef's kiss horny masterpiece which I never knew I needed

[lu-sn]

for random braindump, chay and macau being classmates in canon and recognizing each other post season 1 at some family function

congratulations you've revived my macau & chay besties 4evr agenda. this is not quite what you asked for but it is what fell out of my brain 😅

-

chay is fresh off of baby's first kidnapping, and porsche sits him down in an interrogation room and slides a picture across the steel desk and goes, "okay, this kid. this kid goes to your school. this kid is also the little brother of the guy who kidnapped you. well, kind of. well-"

"hia," chay says, pinching his nose, "i get it. what do i do?"

porsche grabs him by the shoulders. "do not go near him. don't talk to him. don't even LOOK at him. DON'T-"

chay endures this lecture very patiently and then does actually follow porsche's instructions, because the kidnapping completely scared the shit out of him and now he lives with the mafia and his life is legitimately in danger. he's gonna listen to what porsche says, no questions asked.

and then macau, who has literally never spoken to chay before ever (he has no reason to, he's one year younger and he's not studying music) starts popping up everywhere.

"hey," macau says, leaning precariously over the water fountain to stare at chay, who sprays water in his own face as he jumps six feet in the air before immediately sprinting away.

or, chay turns around in the lunch line and macau is standing right behind him, wagging his eyebrows, and chay lets out a small "eep" and then whirls back around and pretends very hard that macau isn't there.

or! chay is walking to his bus stop and macau is standing there looking at his phone, and this is ridiculous. chay has never seen macau take this bus before! so chay throws his hands up in exasperation and books it for the next bus stop, he's not putting up with this bullshit, no sir.

(macau is absolutely doing it on purpose. he's known about chay for months, but is actually on explicit orders from vegas to not bother or spy on chay in any way. he definitely wanted to help, but vegas didn't want macau to be thinking about that kind of stuff at school.

macau is flouting these orders now because vegas has been banished and porsche had something to do with it and he's hoping at first that he can fish information about all of that out of chay. but now he's in it for the trolling 😂)

macau doesn't know about the kidnapping. he doesn't know how personally chay is taking this — until he spots chay under a tree and saunters over to bother him, except. chay looks fucking wrecked. and like he's trying to hide it.

something clicks for macau. he totally gets it. sometimes you have to have a mafia-related breakdown at school, and all you can do is find a quiet place to have it.

(macau doesn't know chay is sad because of kim, but he doesn't need to.)

so when chay spots him, and tenses, and looks ready to bolt — macau halts and holds his hands up in surrender. then he waves, kind of awkwardly. and he leaves.

this very sudden generosity does surprise chay. and it continues to surprise chay when macau continues to wave at him whenever they see each other, but doesn't try to approach him. chay is still suspicious of macau, but chay is also a nice kid, and macau really isn't doing anything objectionable. so chay starts waving back.

this truce goes on for a while. and sure, chay isn't following the letter of the law anymore, but it's not like he's giving away information. he's not putting anyone in danger. and it's kind of comforting to have this shared understanding with this kid he doesn't even know. they're in the same boat. chay might not be able to talk to him, but chay feels a little less alone.

there's a million ways they could start talking after this. maybe macau just decides to take the plunge and plops down in front of chay during lunch and starts rambling about valorant. maybe macau is searching his pockets for change for the vending machine, and chay watches him do this for like five minutes and decides he needs to put macau out of his misery.

or maybe one of them finds the other having a panic attack in the bathroom, and talks them through it. (they're both better at this than they should be.)

or. maybe it's after the coup, and now macau is the one looking horribly withdrawn and jittery, and chay knows macau's brother is in a coma, and chay isn't feeling particularly happy about his own brother or anyone in the goddamn main family right now. so he says fuck it, and goes over to bump shoulders nonchalantly with macau.

maybe it's all of those. doesn't matter. they become friends. they're both lonely, and they're just too similar. too young, too tied to the mafia, too scared for their brothers, too little control over their own lives.

and it's not like they ever actually talk about being in the mafia. both of them know better than to give secrets away. they mostly just talk about gaming and homework and roast each other's tastes in music, and occasionally they allude to not being able to sleep, and sometimes they stutter to a stop to avoid saying something they shouldn't — but they both know to let it go. no need to fill in the gaps with lies, to pretend like everything is normal and okay.

it's nice. they're chill.

later, when porsche tells him they're having "family dinner" tomorrow night, chay doesn't realize that includes the former minor family, and he DEFINITELY doesn't realize macau is going to be there. which means he isn't prepared for macau to spot him at dinner and grin and start walking towards him, BECAUSE MACAU DOESN'T KNOW CHAY IS STILL BANNED FROM TALKING TO HIM.

chay is frantically gesturing at macau from behind porsche, making shh-ing motions and throat-slitting motions and shaking his head threateningly. and macau stops, puzzled, narrows his eyes — sly grin flickering across his face for a split second — points directly and dramatically at chay and goes "what are YOU doing here???"

chay facepalms.

macau puts a hand over his mouth and gasps. "have you been in the mafia this whole time?" then, louder, "i can't believe NOBODY told me."

"oh god," chay mumbles into his hand.

porsche is watching this go down, totally bemused. (vegas is also watching this go down, except vegas actually knows what's going on and is mostly amused about it.)

"chay," porsche says tentatively, "this is macau, vegas's little brother." then he nods expectantly at chay — like chay is supposed to do something now? is chay un-banned??? when the hell did that happen?

chay sighs. "hi, macau," he says, deadpan.

macau shakes his hand vigorously. "you play valorant?" he asks, like macau doesn't roast chay over vc every night.

"i'm gonna kick your ass to the curb," chay mutters, low enough that only macau can hear him.

"maybe when you get good," macau says, unrepentanly smug.

[thefangirlofhp]

8. rainy day

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Rhys drawls.

“You’re not meant to help him,” Feyre reminds him.

“It’s all-right,” Elain reassures them. “It’s just a game.”

The trees in the garden outside shiver and shake their colorful leaves like banners atop hills, bow their strong trunks and misalign their choreography in an addictively individualistic dance. They are foggy and wobbly through the windows pebbled with weeping tears and pelting water. Though the weather does not yet call for active measures to be taken against the chill, there is a modest crackling fire in the house anyways. Small logs occasionally popping kernels of heat, sounding so interestingly like the rain falling against the earth.

Nyx sits cross-legged on the floor in knee-length pants and long socks, holding a deck of cards in his young hands and trying to assimilate the next best step to take against his aunt. She sits before him, between them a slowly growing pile of cards being played, a desk overturned on the carpet waiting to be drawn. An orange tabby sits at the windowsill like an ornament, monitoring the weather outside and occasionally turning to the family in the sitting room breaching his personal space. It’s unusual for them all to be gathered before lunch like this. Usually they’re busy making a living.

Fae are overly indulged these days, he figures. And do not get him started on this upcoming generation of felines who are abandoning their livelihoods for the cool milk of summer and the occasional nibble of cheese! Back in his time, cats were are fearsome as warriors, who hunted their next meal for survival, who could never afford to sheathe their claws for fear of their lives. He has earned the luxury of stuffed armchairs and freshly caught fish.

Rhys is sprawled on one of the sofas, watching his son face his aunt down and expertly masking his eagerness to point out everything Nyx should do to win. If Rhys was playing, Elain would have lost three times already. But he feigns indifference, only occasionally glancing at his son’s cards which are visible to him from this angle. Nyx hasn’t exactly mastered the skill of his mental walls—children are much too young for that—and so Rhys has to be the one to shut him out from his mind. And, well, if he hasn’t yet then it's no one’s business and no-one can know. If he can only stop himself from blurting out from time to time.

Feyre, on the other hand, is less interested in the game of cards and more engrossed in a report from one of their courtiers. She’s come here to read it in peace, back when no-one was in here, because Rhys’s study is always hosting someone and Nyx was out playing, supervised by Elain. She hadn’t anticipated the turn of the weather so suddenly, that brought her son back inside much to his chagrin and frustration. Elain, willing to keep the peace, suggested a game of cards they used to play that she could teach Nyx. He was slowly adjusting to it, his grumpy attitude softening with every triumph and card he plays.

“I’m gonna put this,” Nyx slaps down a card with much flourish and eagerness. “Your turn, ‘Lain!”

“Oh, that’s clever,” Elain gasps, the faint airy quality of her tone bypassing Nyx’s ears thankfully. “Oh no, I’ll have to draw a card. Your turn again, Nyx.”

The young boy cackles like a bewitched crone and slaps his thigh repeatedly. Elain hides a smile as she does indeed draw a card, one she tucks with its applicable brethren and watches Nyx study his deck once more.

“Daddy,” Nyx raises his deck to hide his face, and whispers very audibly. Elain pretends not to hear. “Daddy is this smart?”

Rhys to his credit does not look from beneath the arm he’s slung over his eyes. But a sneaky hand forms a faint upturn of his thumb, succeeded instantly by another round of cackling.

“Ha!”

Elain quickly sets down a retaliating card that wipes the smug victory off Nyx’s face.

“Huh. Okay. Okay, let’s see here,” he once again disappears behind his cards.

Elain’s eyes drift towards the cat at the window. Then to the dancing trees outside. She wonders if—

“Hello!” Cassian’s deafening shout comes from downstairs. “Anyone home?”

“Up here!” Feyre shouts back, halfway through her report.

“Uncle Cass is here!” Nyx beams. “Can he join the game, ‘Lain? Please?”

“Of course,” Elain replies, just as Cassian’s figure makes it through the open doorway and he announces his greetings at large.

“Nes wanted to come but she’s still training,” Cassian explains, not a drop of water on his muscled body. He wears a plain tunic and pants, and his hair is freshly combed and tied. Rhys raises his head, squints at him.

“And why aren’t you?”

“I’m done for the day,” Cass lands with a heavy thump in the spot next to Feyre, nearly catapulting her off into the air. “Easy there,” he chuckles, steadying her with a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s not even lunch-time and you’re done?” Rhys reiterates, his voice hoarse and heavy with drowsiness. “Usually you’re still warming up by now.”

“Ah, there’s something about today,” Cassian shrugs. “Can’t seem to find the point in doing anything. Besides, you’re one to talk. What are you napping for?”

“I’m not,” Rhys yawns, crossing his ankles and folding his arms behind his head. “’m taking a break.”

“From what?” Feyre snorts. “You barely went to one meeting.”

“Listening to Lord Hubber is enough work for a century,” Rhys mutters, sliding his eyes shut. “I subconsciously shut down the minute those clouds covered the sky.”

“Uncle Cass d’you wanna join us?” Nyx eagerly asks. “Elain taught me this game. I’m really good.”

“Seems like you are, little lord,” Cassian remarks, leaning forward on his elbows. “Sure. Deal me in.”

Elain does so, and shifts on the carpet to make room for a trio. Nuala suddenly appears in the doorway and blinks.

“Thought I heard the Lord of Bloodshed,” she mutters. “I’ll adjust lunch accordingly, shall I?”

“Please do,” Feyre confirms. “Oh and maybe for an extra guest as well, you never know.”

“I always do with these Illyrians,” she tells her High Lady. “They travel in packs.”

Elain stifles a laugh behind her hand. Nuala’s dark eyes turn to her for a moment before she disappears.

By the time lunch is served, the rain has not yet let up and the storm’s turned from a healthy display of will into a tantrum that whips the trees and tears branches off. Elain’s glad that they’ve had the foresight to bring in the washing early on, and that she hasn’t planted the new flowers she’s gotten and left them in the greenhouse. The sight of stray petals whirling in circles itches a spot in her fingers she needs to scratch.

The front door opens, giving voice to the muted storm outside and it is deafening. It is quickly silenced, as the door snaps shut.

“We’re here!” Nesta shouts.

“In the dining room!” Feyre yells back at the top of her lungs, as if they are not all equipped with above daily-requirements hearing capabilities.

“Is no-one working today?” Rhys demands when Nesta walks in, Azriel close by.

“You’re one to talk,” Azriel snipes back, drawing up a chair immediately and sitting.

“Usually, I can never get ahold of you,” Feyre raises a brow. “Now you’re free to join us for lunch all of a sudden?”

“This is no weather for work,” Nesta decidedly announces, sitting next to her sister. “Pass me that bread now. I’m starving.”

“From what, napping?”

“I sense some deflection, Rhys,” Azriel unhelpfully chimes, dragging a plate towards him. “Why, do you have something on your chest you’d like to confess?”

“No.”

“He’s been fighting off a nap,” Feyre elaborates.

“That hasn’t been clear enough,” Elain pitches in, striding into the room with roasted potatoes. She takes her seat, tucking her hair behind her ears and finding a filled plate delivered in-front of her. “Thank you,” she says to the shadowsinger next to her.

He inclines his head in answer, buttering his bread as his eyes focus on Cassian’s retelling of today’s uneventful training session.

“Uncle Az, d’ya know I’m the best at playing cards?” Nyx pipes up from his place between his parents.

“Is that right?”

“Uhu,” Nyx bobs his head. “I played against ‘Lain and Cass and I won.”

“Your aunt must have gone easy on you,” a faint smile blooms in the corner of his mouth.

“Nu-uh!” Nyx retorts, with no short amount of outrage. “No she didn’t!”

“Azriel,” Elain softly admonishes, giving him a nudge with her elbow. “He’s joking, Nyx.”

“Besides, I didn’t go easy on you and you definitely won most of the times,” Cassian reassures Nyx of his hard-won victories.

“That’s not saying something. Anyone could win a card of games with you. Even someone who doesn’t know the game.”

“That’s it!” Cassian stands up, slapping his fork and knife down. “Everyone off the table. Elain, you’re dealing. Nyx is judge and you—” he jerks a furious finger Azriel’s way “—outside now. We’re settling this once and for all.”

“You’re on,” Azriel too stands up. “Rhys, you’re going to join?”

Their High Lord smirks. “And pass on the chance of teaching you both a lesson? Never.”

“Here I thought you’d grown up in those years a little,” Feyre mutters, putting down her napkin and standing up as well. “This isn’t about cards only, is it?��

“It rarely is,” Nesta grabs her plate and hurries after the others. “But it’ll be worth watching.”

Elain is left sitting at the table, her mouth agape, fork piercing a potato and wondering when had they all evacuated the room so quickly.

“You’re coming?”

Azriel stands in the doorway looking over his shoulder, his eyes glittering. He holds out a hand.

Elain smiles. Lunch can wait.

(they were totally playing uno.)

[eddiesxangel]

Took these before my day went to shit lol but I guess happy Friday 🖤🩶🤍