#thank you again for taking the time for this lovely ask and like i mentioned please point out some scenes which have stood out to you!

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (29/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Another glimpse of Charles' mind - and honey, that boy is down bad.

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of dry humping, sex and oral sex), angst, but make it hot

Word Count: 3k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: LETS FUCKING GO LANDO!!! CHEERS BABE I LOVE YOU! feedback is appreciated!

Charles is so glad to be sitting in the rickety Renault again. He can feel the individual springs through the thin fabric of the seat and the few cracks in the steering wheel feel wonderfully familiar in his calloused hands. As soon as you both arrive at his mother's house, he would text Andrea and thank him for picking up the car with him at the old apartment.

It takes immense willpower for him to let his hand rest either on the gear stick between you or on the steering wheel, because he'd love to slide his ringed fingers over the fabric of your jeans on your thigh. Or hold your hand. Touch you somehow. 

It's as if he's addicted to your touch. As if the warmth of your skin, the softness of your body were a drug that he couldn't get enough of after the first real contact. And all he can think about is how good your skin felt against his. 

He regrets a little that the first time was in a terrible situation that both he and you would like to forget. He remembers how your body shook as you lay on your bed in just your underwear and cried. How you didn't even realize Charles had entered the room because literally everything was out of control. And for sure, after what he did and the words he threw at you, Charles had no right to comfort you and hold you in his arms. 

And although his head warned him to stay away from you, his body fought back and, without hesitation, lay with you, pulled you close and held you while you cried yourself to sleep. And when you sobbed his name, with a broken voice and a deep-seated, audible pain, his brain had completely shut down, which is why he couldn't say anything other than "I'm here as long as you'll let me".  

But he had already realized beforehand that there would be no turning back. He already knew at dinner with his friends that all he would ever want would be you as soon as you touched him. When you pressed your leg against his to show him that you were there for him, when he was asked about Annika, and for a moment it felt as if he had caught a spark of fire and it had sunk through his jeans and burnt him. But it was just the warmth of your skin that he could feel despite the layers of fabric. And when he wasn't sure if it was actually you, he'd suggested sharing the tiramisu so he could be closer to you. 

And when he not-so-accidentally pressed his chest against your back to reach the tiramisu in your hand, he got so warm he thought he was going to have a heat stroke. 

He had a similar experience the night he woke up because you breathed his name in your sleep and pressed your butt against him. The morning when he had to flee from bed because he feared he would provoke a heart attack if he allowed you to rub against him and then had to suppress his urge to touch you. There's no question that he was only thinking about you in the shower when he touched himself. 

But nothing could have prepared him for the real thing. When he wrapped his arm around you and intertwined your fingers to show you that he was there for you. The warmth he'd felt earlier through the clothes you'd been wearing had been pleasant. Your skin on his felt more like a burn, as if he'd put his hand on a hotplate that was switched on, as if he'd been lying in the sun too long without sunscreen and got burnt. As if you were the sun he got too close to. You burned into his skin with your touch - and never in his life has he loved heat as much as he did at that moment. 

That night, he held you as tightly as if he could suck the pain from your body and absorb it into himself. True, Charles had struggled just as much after realizing that the man who hurt the woman in his arms was the very man his own girlfriend had cheated on him with, but he'd swallowed that and shrugged it off the moment he'd seen the fear in your eyes as he climbed the steps to the apartment and saw you both standing in the hallway. 

You had been his priority and he wanted to protect you as best he could, even if he couldn't undo any of what had happened. He can't change the fact that Raphael betrayed you and he can't take away the pain that this breach of trust caused you. He can't undo the fact that he said all those cruel things to you because he was jealous of Lando, because you took him to your heart so quickly - who you touched without hesitation - and he couldn't keep his feelings under control. Charles can't change any of that. 

But the night he held you while you cried all the tears you had inside you, he vowed to protect you from anything that could hurt you. He swore to take care of you as best he could and to make your life easier if he could. He swore that he would never be the cause of your pain again. 

And even though your touch feels like a warm sunburn to him, like a hot ray of sunshine and like happiness itself, he vowed to see you as none other than his girlfriend, his roommate, who deserves far better than a jealous Charles who can't give you what you need to be happy. 

He can't assure you that he'll always be there for you when you need him. His job doesn't allow that. There's no way he can always be with you to hold you when you're sad. It's so incredibly unfair to ask you to wait for him. He can't give you the time the both of you need to build an adult, good and above all healthy relationship. And it would be irresponsible to plunge you into this life where the public would run their mouths about the couple just because you were a couple. He would give you anything you asked of him, but never would he put you in a situation that would hurt you.

He would protect you. The girl who lay quietly in his arms and cried until she fell asleep. The girl who turned his whole world upside down in the space of a few days. The girl who his mother thought was his girlfriend, which he didn't want to correct because he secretly wished that was the reality. 

The girl who was gracious enough to forgive him for his actions and stayed by his side despite his name and the hurdles his friendship would bring, even insisting on staying there come what may. The girl who helped him move on from his toxic relationship with his ex by burning it all. 

The night had been cleansing. With each piece of the relationship you both threw into the flames, the weight on Charles' shoulders lightened until it disappeared completely with the last burnt petal. He thought it was only fair to tell you that Raphael was the guy who had destroyed both your relationship and his. And although Charles could tell you were more upset by this fact than you might like to admit, he felt closer to you than ever before. 

You promised him that there would be a soulmate for him in this world. Someone with whom he doesn't have to pretend and can be who he really is. And after his body once again asserted itself against his brain and pulled you on top of him so that you could cuddle - strictly as friends - you fell asleep on top of him. And while he scratched your head, felt your warm breath on his neck and enjoyed the weight of your body on his, he wondered why he got the feeling that he had already found this person when he looked at you.

"Is she asleep?" Joris asked quietly and stood in front of the fire bowl, his hands outstretched to get some warmth. Charles nodded barely perceptibly. He would never risk you waking up and pulling away from him because of one of his movements. His heart couldn't take that. 

"Yes," he breathes without sound. 

Joris looks into the fire. "She's good for you. And you seem to be good for her too." When Charles looks at him, a little confused, Joris shrugs. "She just said to me that you're her best friend."

Charles couldn't explain why his heart momentarily stopped working, only to break into many pieces on the next beat. Although he had decided for himself not to let your relationship go any further than a friendship would allow, and the constant closeness and constant touching was certainly not exactly conducive to that, somewhere deep inside Charles had had a small spark of hope that perhaps something else could become of you at some point. 

But that spark had gone out. 

Charles avoided his oldest friend's gaze, staring into the blazing flames. Why did it hurt him so much? Wasn't that exactly what he wanted?

"Charles?" Joris tried to catch the Monegasque's gaze, but he stubbornly refused to look away from the fire. "Do you love her?" 

Charles didn't know whether it was the hot fire in front of him that was making his eyes water. He felt the drops burn on his lash line before he blinked and they rolled painfully down his cheek like acid. 

He didn't look at Joris. 

Best friend. Two words and a bitter aftertaste that stuck so disgustingly to his tongue when he said them to your face. They made his stomach ache and he would have liked to break away from you so he wouldn't have to endure it anymore. But he is your best friend. And he swore to himself that he would never hurt you again. So he can't help but endure this burning closeness, this torture of being with you but not being able to do anything. 

He fell asleep with you, body pressed against body, and he would endure that heat for all time if it meant you were safe. And even though he was aware of the fact that he was nothing more to you than your best friend, that didn't stop his heart from doing a little skip when he tried to break away from you to go jogging and you wrapped yourself around his arm. 

He blamed it on your tiredness, that you wanted to keep him there. That you weren't in your right mind when you reminded him that it was his suggestion to share a bed because it would help you sleep better, and then you kissed his bare chest. Kissed. 

His brain, which must have had a bit of a lapse as a result, didn't seem to be working properly when he admitted that he'd even said he'd always hold her in his arms. And it wasn't working properly when you wrapped your leg around his waist to pull him closer to you. It seemed like a miracle that he had finally managed to pull away from you and get dressed after all.

First the left sock, then the right. The shirt is on the -

When you wrapped your arms around him and called him Sharl, it was over. Something inside him had short-circuited. He's not even sure what exactly he said to you anymore. The only thing he remembers is how he pulled you onto his lap. How he hoped you'd give him a sign so he could give you back some of what he'd stopped dreaming about. 

And you moaned his name as he rocked you over his erection. Clinging to him like he was all you would ever need. Charles would have loved to throw you back on the bed - the bed you share as friends - and kiss you. He would have undressed you and let his mouth roam over your body, hoping that his touch would burn on your skin as much as yours burns on his. He would have devoured you, latching his mouth onto your pussy and tasting you until you came on his tongue. You would have clawed your fingers in his hair, rubbed your pussy against his mouth and moaned his name. And then he would have taken you, slowly at first so you'd get used to him, and meanwhile he would have kissed you so you could taste yourself on his tongue before he ruined you for any men who might come after him who weren't your best friend. 

But the only thing he could do was cup your chin and make you look at him while you moved back and forth on his hard-on yourself. He would never forget the look in your eyes, that pleading look as his cock bumped against your clit and lightning flashed through his veins, electrifying him. 

You begged him and he vowed to give you anything that would make you happy. And if that meant splitting you in half and making you come on his tongue, his fingers and his cock so many times until you couldn't remember his name or your own, he would have given it to you without hesitation.

And then his fucking phone rang.

He would have loved to slam it against the wall and kill Andrea for interrupting that moment. But when you slipped off his lap, he dressed quickly and his blood rushed back into his brain, he was even a little grateful. What if you had slept together and you hadn't wanted to be friends with him afterwards?

He was so happy when you reassured him that everything was fine between you. And he would have loved to hug you, but somehow it didn't seem right for him to be so close to you after you dry humped. So he let it go and went for a jog, relieved that Andrea had so much to talk about with him. 

The more he talked about Ferrari, his training and the upcoming trip, the less he had to think about you while running. 

But when he walked into the apartment with full shopping bags and Andrea in tow and saw you standing in the hallway all dressed up, all his blood went south again. The jeans that accentuated your every curve to the extreme and the top with a slight neckline that he wanted to pull over your head. 

The fact that Andrea had to leave quickly played into his cards and the fact that he had to take a shower was also ideal, because he wouldn't have been able to hide his boner, which was certainly visible through the shorts, for much longer. In the shower he had sorted the situation out, biting his lower lip as his hand closed around his cock, imagining it was yours. 

"Charles, please," your voice echoed in his mind, and in circumstances where he'd actually slept with you, he would have been ashamed of himself for coming within two minutes. But he felt better and was ready to look you in the eye again after imagining you pressing your tongue flat against the tip of his cock. 

What also helped him keep his blood where it belonged - in his brain - was leaving the bathroom and hearing his British friend's voice. 

He also doesn't know what got into him when he rested his chin on your shoulder to make it clear that you belonged to him. Which, by the way, is not true either. Only a short time ago, he had decided not to let this go any further than a friendship - so why did he feel the need to behave so possessively towards Lando - especially Lando?

Lando, who gave him a hard time for treating you badly. Lando, who Charles knows is only approaching you in a friendly manner because he knows how much you mean to the Monegasque. Lando, who saved your friendship when it was about to shatter into a thousand splinters?

But Charles couldn't help himself. Jesus, he even put his hand on your hip to signal that Lando should please keep his hands off you. Like a horny dog, he had needed to show that you were his. 

And now, as you sit next to each other in your old Renault, he has to clutch the steering wheel so that he doesn't get any ideas about indulging his addiction to your touch. He misses the heat that burns through his skin when you touch him. He doesn't even dare to look in your direction. 

He takes his hand off the gear stick and stretches out his fingers, which have clenched painfully around the plastic, almost steering the car off the road as you place your hand under his to intertwine your fingers. 

His whole body burns as you place your hands in your lap and play with his fingers like it's the most natural thing in the world. As if you weren't just best friends sharing an apartment. As if you hadn't dry humped just a few hours ago. And it takes all his strength not to stop at the next corner and fuck you in the tiny back seat of the car until your lungs are hoarse from screaming.

He concentrates on steering the car properly. He concentrates on the springs he can feel through the thin fabric of the seat. He concentrates on the cracks in the steering wheel that he can feel in his calloused hand.

Charles is so glad to be sitting in the rickety Renault again.

[russo-woso]

Will you please do a lia walti x reader where reader gets injured in international duty and Lia is really worried because she saw it happen on tv

I’m sorry I can’t be there | Lia Wälti

Warning injury, mention of blood

(Please pretend Leah was able to play in the December matches. I know she wasn’t in the squad but I realised as I had finished writing it.)

“That’s not Lia again is it?” Leah questioned as she saw you on FaceTime.

“No.” You respond, clearly lying.

“Hi, Lia.” Leah said as she took a place sat next to you.

“Hi Leah. How’s my girl doing?” Lia asked, and Leah fake gagged at the pet name.

“She’s doing fine. Scoring goal after goal in training.” Leah explained, taking the phone off you so she could continue the conversation with Lia.

It was your first England camp and to say you was nervous was an understatement.

You were scared that you weren’t going to be good enough, scared that you’d have no friends there, thinking that the Arsenal girls would go and spend time with their other friends, but you were completely wrong.

Leah had been with you throughout the whole camp, making sure you were settled in, making sure you were never bored or alone.

Unbeknownst to you, Lia had pulled Leah aside and asked her to make sure you were alright and Leah couldn’t say no to her best friend.

And anyway, you and Leah were like sisters so she was obviously going to look after you.

“Can I have my girlfriend back now?” You asked Leah, gesturing for her to give you back your phone.

“Bye Lia, see you soon.” Leah waved to the phone, handing you the phone. “I never spend any time with my best friend anymore because of you.” Leah mumbled under her breath as you shook your head at her.

“It was you who introduced us.” You defended, remembering the time when Leah introduced you to Lia on your first day at Arsenal.

“Love, I’m going to go to sleep now but I’ll message in the morning.” Lia said, restricting the bickering between you and Leah to continue.

“Okay, baby. I love you.”

“I love you too, liebling.”

“I regret introducing you both. It’s absolutely sickening how in love you two are.” Leah stated, sighing as she recalled all the past times where you and Lia have been sickeningly cute together.

“You’re just jealous because you have no one to be sickeningly in love with.” You pointed out as Leah’s signature frown appeared on her face.

“I can easily talk to Sarina about dropping you from the squad.” Leah threatened, clearly joking with you.

“There is no way we’ll be dropping Y/N from the squad.” Sarina said, walking into the room. “She’s a valuable player, one that we need.”

“Thank you, Sarina.” You spoke before turning back to Leah and sent a smirk to her.

Leah shook her head before walking out.

Letting out a small laugh, you joined into a conversation with Beth and Lucy.

————————

Looking at your phone, good luck I love you xx was displayed on it from Lia.

“You’ll do fine. I know you will.” Your Arsenal teammate, Alessia, said, resting her hand on your shoulder.

“Thanks, less.” You responded, hesitantly, not knowing if she was right or not.

“Alessia’s right, mate. Believe in yourself. You’re here for a reason.” Lotte spoke up, as everyone hummed in agreement.

After getting warmed up and ready for the game, Sarina pulled you to the side, explaining that she’d put you on later in the game.

You smiled, happy that you would definitely be debuting for your country.

Remembering Lia’s message earlier, you opened your phone sending a quick text.

Thank you, baby. Sarina said I’d be on in the second half. Good luck on your match x

And with that, you walked out of the tunnel and onto the bench.

————————

After a disappointing first half, the Netherlands scoring two goals, and a dramatic start to the first half, Georgia and Hempo equalising, it was your turn to run onto a sold out Wembley.

It was the 79th minute and from the tactics Sarina had shared with you, you were fairly certain that you could help change the scoreline.

And that’s exactly what you did.

As you received the ball on the left wing, two minutes into injury time, you looked up to see Tooney making a run into the box.

You took a touch before delivering the ball perfectly to Ella’s feet.

However, before you could even see if Ella got it into the goal, you were taken off your feet due to a late tackle.

You fell to the floor, clutching your ankle as you screamed out in pain.

The girls gathered round you, immediately calling for the medics to come over.

It felt like minutes before the medics got to you when actually, it was only a matter of seconds.

In the few seconds it took them to get to you, the Dutch player apologised profusely. She also got a red card, saying sorry a final time before making her way off the pitch.

You were trying to take your mind off the pain, instead trying to focus in on your surroundings, but as the medics took your boot off, a muffled grunt of pain escaped your mouth as you bit down on your shirt.

Leah held your hand, letting you squeeze it as medics slide down your sock to reveal a very broken ankle.

You looked up, which you know now you shouldn’t have done, to be met with a tonne of blood running down your leg and ankle.

You had figured she had gone into the challenge studs first, but what you hadn’t realised was just how impactful it had been, especially so forceful it had made you bleed.

Eventually, the medics called the onsite paramedics to stretcher you into the ambulance.

You couldn’t remember the rest, apart from Leah saying goodbye.

The paramedics gave you strong painkillers that happened to make you really out of it.

As soon as you arrived at the hospital, they took you into surgery, placing pins into your ankle before putting it in a cast.

Whilst you were in surgery, some of your teammates made their way to the hospital to check you were alright.

Leah made sure to request that she received frequent updates on you and also requested that you had your own private room.

Which came in handy because when you awoke from surgery and they wheeled you back to your room, you had several missed calls from Lia.

You clicked on her name, calling her back, and within just two seconds she picked up.

“Y/N, baby, are you okay?” Lia’s voice was barely a whisper, sadness and worry clearly visible in her voice.

“I’m okay, love, I promise. Just a broken ankle. and several months of recovery, but I’ll be okay.” You reassured her, your voice hoarse from not talking for hours.

“It was so scary, baby. At the end of the match, I was told you went down and we turned on the tv on the coach back to the hotel and it was showing your injury. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. I’m sorry I can’t be there now.” Lia explained, small sniffles could be heard between every few words.

“Lia, love, I promise it’s okay that you’re not here. Don’t worry about me please. You go and enjoy the Spanish sun. I’ll be fine.” You repeated your words, making the point clear that you were okay.

“I love you, Y/N.” Lia’s voice broke as she said it, making your heart clench.

“I love you too, Lia. I’ll see you soon. Get some sleep, love.”

————————

After the exhaustion that the drama and injury caused yesterday, it wasn’t a surprise when you woke up close to 1 o’clock in the afternoon the following day.

Your eyes opened, hesitantly due to the light, noticing the big cast on your leg that you got to properly see for the first time in the daylight.

You winced in pain as you pushed yourself up against the bed so you were sitting up.

Looking to your right, you saw a big get well soon balloon on your table with a bouquet of flowers next to it.

Your eyebrows furrowed as a confused look took over your face, clearly confused as to who they were from.

“They’re from me.” A voice said from your left.

You recognised the voice immediately, after all, it was your favourite voice to hear.

“Lia? Baby, what are you doing here?” You questioned as you opened your arms for her to hug you.

“I couldn’t stand not being with you. I felt bad for not being with you when you got injured and I couldn’t not be here for your recovery.” Lia explained, tears welling in her eyes.

“You’re here with me now though.” You pointed out, moving on the bed so Lia could lay down next to you.

“I am. And I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

“I love you so much, baby.”

“I love you too, love.”

My requests are open :)

[babyleostuff]

https://x.com/_zainab_khawaja/status/1785791043872456834?s=46&t=Pno0_nYlg0gSYtHkBk336g

this is so cute?? 😭😭😭 which member dyt would say this

"text me when you reach home"

ohmygod LET ME FUCKING SCREAM AAAAAA!!!! i love love love this prompt, my oldest daughter syndrome lives for this shit <33333 thank you so much for sending this in my lovely anon! <3

-> choi seungcheol

is anyone surprised??? HELL NO!!! of course daddy coups would be the type to make you promise to text him when you reach home (he'd probably send you at least twenty texts of "are you home yet" before you'd even have the chance to get into your car). not only that - he'd make you take a pic of you safely tucked under the covers OR ELSE HE'LL PANICK AND YOU DON'T WANT CHOI SEUNGCHEOL TO PANICK OVER YOUR SAFETY!!! HE WILL GO TO THE POLICE TO FILE IN A MISSING PERSON CASE JUST BECAUSE YOU WERE FIVE MINUTES TOO LATE WITH YOUR TEXT.

-> joshua hong

"text me when you reach home" is a very subtle, low key, and not overbearing way of showing you care about someone (unless you're choi seungcheol) which is very much joshua hong coded, and people who are the "text me when you reach home" types give me very gentlemen-y, caring, soft, chill vibes. again - joshua is all of those.

-> jeon wonwoo

IF I SEE ANY OF YALL BITCHES SAYING THAT JEON WONWOO IS "COLD" OR TALK ABOUT HIS "COLD PERSONA" EVER AGAIN - I'M GOING TO FIND YOU AND CHEW YOUR HAIR OFF! the way this bitch is a certified simp and loser and some of you decide not to see that is astonishing - he's the epitome of *cue in boba eyes* "please text me when you get home, 'k baby?" *kisses your forehead*. sure he wouldn't scream at you at the top of his lungs for you to text him, but he is so so caring and so so sweet, and it's sad how people overlook that. and if you'd be taking too long to get back (in his opinion) he'd call you to check up on you BECAUSE JEON WONWOO HAS EMOTIONS!!!

-> xu minghao

this bitch acts as if he doesn't really care, and would ask you to shoot him a text after you get home because it's what a good boyfriend should be doing but lmaoooo the way he'd be stressing before receiving that text from you. hao tries to reassure himself that it's whatever WHATEVER MY ASS - HE IS A CERTIFIED SIMP AND HE CAN ACT ALL UNBOTHERED AND "UGH I HATE ROMANCE" BUT I KNOW BETTER!!! imagine his lil smile after getting your message I CAN'T DO THIS

-> vernon chwe

i feel like he'd text you this using an emoji coded message, like - ✍🏼🚗🚶🏼🏡👍🏼 or some shit

-> lee chan

baby wouldn't be able to fall asleep or proceed with his day without getting an "i'm home ☺️" text from you. would be checking his phone every five seconds minutes with a lil pout on his face BECAUSE HE HAS TO KNOW THAT YOU'RE SAFE.

honorable mentions:

the only reason dk isn't on this list is because he'd be on a call with you the whole time you'd be on your way home.

mingyu would text you this after you'd get home.

[flamingpudding]

The first part of this Au that I went out with so funny thank you for answering it I hope you were able to rest and stuff but anywho

I feel like after those first two parts I feel like RedRobin and Batman have questions about the Ghost King and Vlad relationship like they're asking questions

And the Klarions / Phantom children and the kids keep just dropping he with to college with our mom's parents, he would take kidnap mom and locked him in a basement, he's legally mom's godfather, he tried to marry grandmother on multiple occasions

I just feel like Dan anytime he gets the moment gets mad at him and goes like until you pay the 8.5 million you owe mom in child support is the day that you can call me your son ectoplasm donor.

Also I would find it so funny if outside of their Klarion thing they live with Vlad time from time again when Danny is overwhelmed or need someone to watch over them and the the rest of the people he's friends with in the Infinite Realms can't do it and are friends with the Wayne children

I feel like Duke will be having a heart attack when you realizes that he goes the same high school class as Dan or that Ellie and Dick best friends back when they were children for funsies

Also the reveal of Teekls has never been a cat it's going to get on doctor fate's nerves cuz he knows damn well that things never been a cat also I feel like all of them have the power to rip Dr Fate out of whoever he's possessing body and always he's pulling that power on him anytime they get the chance

Also a review of the fact that Teekl has never been a cat until when like Batman or Red Robin pov

Have I ever mentioned I love your ideas and how fun they are? Cause damn this had me laughing while reading it already.

Also glad the first two parts were still fun despite the mishaps that happed while writing :D

Also I skipped over the Teekl Part for the moment since I didn't know how to tie it in at the moment...

Sooooo anyway.... here we go again~ (sorry if its a bit short...)

Part 1 Part 2

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

Red Robin was intrigued, worried and on several levels suspicious as he watched the interaction between the ones that had been Klarion, the current Klarion and Vlad Masters. He had also a lot of questions, he really wanted answers to but for now he held back.... partially. Vlad Masters was a contact Batman had brought in when the situation with the Demon became more dangerous than they originally expected.

John Constantine had mentioned they would need a even stronger force to really drive that Demon back and off handedly mentioned that something like an Ancient or a Ghost King would be needed. And wouldn't you know, Batman knew someone that claimed to have contacts with a Ghost King or rather THE Ghost King. And as luck would have it, Vlad Masters was in Gotham because of one of his relentless attempts at striking a business deal with Bruce Wayne. (That really had been an unexpected luck but by now Red Robin was also suspecting something else was at play.... [Like a bored Ancient of Time])

Well either way now he was watching, just a step behind his mentor, how Batman was grilling Vlad Masters on his relations to the Ghost King, since apparently they (the hero's assembled) wouldn't need to do anything anyway since the Ghost King was handling the demon threat. Red Robin did realise that not all heroes present were convinced but what else could they do but wait right now? Since according to Klarion their Mom aka the Ghost King was already dealing with the situation.

So with that happening, the well known bat-paranoia, curiosity, suspicion and need to know every good damn detail of a situation arose full force. Not that Red Robin minded, as mentioned before, he had a lot of questions too. Plus he wasn't so sure if the other Heroes had caught it but there were some disturbing things Klarion and is siblings sort of dropped that really needed clearing up.

While Batman was grilling Vlad Masters, Red Robin listened in but then decided to his own sort of questioning with Klarion, the current one.

"So... you called Vlad Masters 'old man'? And your suit is in the 'old man's style'?" the question was asked directly to the current Klarion. Since they were apparently here just to watch Red robin was sure he could just try having a sort of civil talk with his questions.

Klarion on the other hand grumbled crossing his arms, before uncrossing them again to pet the demon cat on his shoulder. "I just went with his dumb vampire look but more fancy and classic and less insane colouring."

The arched eyebrow stayed sort of hidden under his mask but it was there and Red Robin knows that tone Klarion used. It's the same Red Hood has when he begrudgingly admit do doing something the way Batman would. Which raises the a question he already had on his mind, how he could interpret Klarions use of 'old man'. Which would give Batman even more incentive to question Vlad Masters on his relation to the Ghost King. Also for now he was going to ignore the 'dumb vampire look' part, but he did note it down in his mind for later.

"Vlad Masters is your 'old man'?" There probably was a way to ask a little more subtle or nice but they were waiting for the Ghost King to beat up a Demon and he was making small talk with subtitle questioning with Klarion. So sue him for being blunt after all. Also the face Klarion was making right after he said.

"Well Far Frozen gets a hot summer." Was the instant reply and Red Robin blinked unter his mask. There probably was some information he was missing behind that reply.

"Ew no! He wishes though. But Vlad is like double or triple our Mom's age! He even went to collage with Grandpa Jack and Grandma Maddie!" Misrule suddenly interjected apparently done pestering Nightwing as she leaned over Klarion, resting her head on his and causing Teekl to hiss at her. Well that certainly got his attention now and with the way he saw, form the corner of his eyes, Batmans head wipe their way and then back at Vlad Masters it certainly also got his mentors.

"He wishes...? Triple your Moms.... age? The Ghost King?" His mental information board was getting more and more chaotic with the information he was getting.

"He acts like we are his kids and has a right to be called Dad by us." Misrule shrugged dismissively to which Klarion growled, he growled! Red Robin was tempted to check his ears because this was the first time he heard Klarion growl towards his sister.

"The day I call your DNA and my ecto donor anything with the context of father is the day he pays Mom the millions of child support he owns him and additional pays for emotional and physical distress." Okay, Red Robin was not ashamed to say he did a double take at Klarions growl and the fact that several alarm bells went off hin his mind with that one sentence alone.

"Mom has his own castle and riches from the previous King. Not like we would actually need that money. Plus Vlad does pay for your school tuition." Misrule answered her brother, complete ignoring the fact that Red Robin was having a mental crisis and thinking that Vlad Masters might even be an even greater threat, then just a weird and suspicious potential business partner and that the reason he has a summoning stone for the Ghost King might be a custody thing regarding Klarion and his siblings.

So with all these things what did Red Robins brain decide to focus on? "Vlad Masters pays your school tuition? No wait you go to school?"

There was an awkward moment Red Robin received two very similar looking deadpan stares from Klarion and Misrule, the first Klarion.

"Of course I go to fucking school Mom would kill... well no thermos ground me if I didn't." Another drop of information Red Robin didn't know how to handle, what the hell does 'thermos ground' even mean? Was that like their version of grounding?

"Oh isn't today like a school night?" Misrule suddenly piped up pinching her brothers check and Red Robin felt weirdly reminded of some of the interactions he used to have with his siblings. It was strange to see Klarion like that.

"Shit... I forgot to do my part of my group project with Duke..." Klarion grumbled and Red Robin did a double take once more, blinking several times as there was a very very important information drop here, his head snapped towards Nightwing in hopes that the other had also caught it and thankfully, he had and while Signal wasn't present at the moment because he had done day patrols already and had been barely awake anyway when this whole Demon mess started.... they had gotten a hint of figuring out Klarions identity, they were certainly going to use later.

For now they had some more red flags to investigate in regards to the relation of Vlad Masters, the Ghost King, Klarion and Klarion's siblings.

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

Little Bonus (Next day after Demon Crisis):

"Hey Duke, who are you working with in a group project?"

"Huh oh that is Dante Masters-Nightingale."

"Masters-Nightingale? As in Vlad MASTERS?"

"Yeah, that what he said his temporary guardian's name is that pays for his schooling."

"Wait didn't I go with Danielle Nightingale-MASTERS to school too? We were like besties in school!"

"Oh god...."

"Tim, you okay you look very pale. Are you okay? Dick too..."

"BRUCE! VLAD MASTERS NEEDS TO BE PUT ON THE RED WATCH LIST AND WE NEED TO TALK WITH THE GHOST KING ASAP!"

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

AHHH hii angel thank you so much for responding to my last request, it was more than perfect!! 💗

idk if you'd do this because it's a very sensitive topic and i don't want to make you feel uncomfortable but i need a little bit of comfort and reassurance since my bday is in like an hour hehe.. but can i have a bucky with a reader who's attempting to lose weight by dieting and working out but it kinda goes downhill (i think you know what I'm hinting at), and she's like a bit insecure and compares herself to models. and bucky finds out and helps her.. and just a bit angsty but turns out very fluffy with cuddles and stuff. you absolutely don't have to write this request if it's too overwhelming, lot's of love, take care! 💗💗💗💗

- 🦢

my love hi!! you’re more than welcome, glad you liked it!! happy belated birthday, hope you had a great day!! I love stuff like this so it’s no problem. sending love, hope you’re well. thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

SMALL CHANGES.

bucky barnes x fem!reader — angst & comfort

word count. 1073

warnings. potentially triggering content? mentions of dieting and working out. might be a hard read for some?

Comparison is the thief of joy. 

It's something you've always struggled with, the endless questioning of yourself, picking yourself apart in ways you believe you don't fit in. It's an easy habit to slip into but a difficult one to break out of. 

As of late, those feelings resurfaced - finding more and more 'faults' when you put yourself up against others. Models. It was as if you got sucked into a spiral of scrolling through images and doubting yourself, all of it leading to you curled up crying in bed. Always. 

No matter how upset you'd be, you'd still find yourself swiping up to see more - feeding that little gremlin in your mind. 

And after a little while, you decided you wanted to do something about those feelings - granted the reasoning behind it wasn't coming from a good place, but you'd be bettering yourself, and that's what you originally wanted.

So you changed your routine: waking up before six, secretly squeezing in an hour workout before joining Bucky on his morning runs, coming back home to have breakfast —an apple— then going about your day only to workout again once you get home. 

You thought food was the enemy, so you restricted yourself with crazy diets and regimes you hear about in Hollywood. You tried a water cleanse, a juice cleanse, keto, even fasting, but no matter how hard you thought you tried, your efforts would not be enough for what you wanted.

All it left you feeling was tired and crappy. No matter how much you hated your body, your body hated you more for what you were doing to it.

You thought you were being sneaky and secretive in the way you were going about it, but you couldn't be more wrong. Bucky, your boyfriend, knew something was running rampant in your mind: every dismissal of a snack you previously loved, every time he watched you dodge a mirror —or on the contrast of seeing you stare too long in one— all of it only confirming what he had hoped not to be true.

It's a sensitive topic, especially to bring up to a loved one. Bucky knew you weren't going to be forthcoming, so he wanted to take the first step.

You were in your shared bedroom, sorting through your dresser to find a clean pair of workout clothes - all of your others drenched in sweat from your previous workouts. 

"Hey, honey?" Bucky calls out, knocking on the ajar door. 

You turn around to see his sweet face, your own almost embarrassed from being caught. "Yeah?" 

"It's almost dinnertime. What do you say about going to that restaurant downtown? The one you love?" he asks, trying to scope you out.

"I have some stuff in the fridge. I bought a bunch of kale that needs eating before it goes bad," you reply, turning away, redirecting your focus to the clothes in your drawer.

Bucky leaves his spot in the doorframe, instead walking over to take a seat at the foot of the bed - behind from where you stand. "That's not food," he softly shakes his head. "Rabbits eat that. Let's get something good. What about a chicken sandwich? Pizza?"

"It is food," you reply. "Put on some pepper and olive oil, then bake it— it's good," you add, trying to convince him and yourself. 

He faintly sighs, resting his elbows on his knees. "No one likes kale."

"Maybe you're not cooking it right," you playfully protest, trying to distract him. 

"No, I cook it right," he stands up, walking to stand beside you. "We haven't gone out to eat for a while. I miss spending time with you like that."

You missed it too - far more than you'd ever anticipate. But you didn't want to slip up again. You already had a few times this week and you didn't want to make a habit of it. 

"I do, too, but I already ate. Maybe in the week?"

"What did you have?" he asks, craning his neck to look at your face.

You hesitate, not having an answer. "I can't remember."

He exhales weakly, your unknown confirmation making his heart sink. His hand reaches for yours, the act like he was pulling your attention back to him. "That means you haven't eaten," he utters, his tone soft - the meaning behind his words almost scolding. 

You feel cornered, and once again, you have no answer for him. 

His grip tightens, gently turning you back to him. "You need to eat, honey. Your body needs it... I know what you've been doing."

After hearing something you didn't want to, your stomach drops. Bucky knew.

"I should've said something when I noticed it," he shakes his head, feeling at fault. "You know you can't keep doing what you're doing?"

You nod meekly, avoiding his eyes. You did know that what you were doing was unhealthy, but you wanted to be like them. If they can do it, why can't you?

"Why have you been doing it?" he asks faintly, cocking his neck to meet your gaze.

"Are you telling me off?"

He's quick to shake his head, denying it almost instantly - both his palms reaching to cup your face. "God, no," his soft eyes bore into yours. "Of course not, honey. Never," he reassures, thumbs grazing over your cheeks. "I just want you to look after yourself."

"I do," you hesitate a response, the words delicate - almost inaudible.

"You don't," he mumbles. "The working out, not eating? You're hurting yourself," he pauses. "If you want to change, I can help you. But we'll do it the right way, okay? None of what you've been doing."

All you can do is nod, silently acknowledging your accidental wrongdoings.

"Just small changes," he leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips. "That's all you need, okay?"

"Okay," you faintly smile, agreeing to the help. 

"So," he starts, removing the placement on the sides of your face. "We're going to go out for dinner. And you're going to order whatever you want— whatever it is you've been wanting to eat," he pauses, noticing the hesitancy in your expression. "And we're going to order water instead of wine. Small changes."

The thought of ordering a meal you've restricted yourself from is enough to make your smile genuine. The idea of having your lover's support making it all that much easier.

[daisyblog]

Wine, Pizza and Never Have I Ever

Unexpected Love Masterlist Summary: Harry and YN’s second date.

It had been two weeks since their first date. Harry had been busy in the studio and YN had been busy with Jacob and in the florist. But despite their busy lives, they had been texting back and forth every moment they could, and on some evenings talking over the phone. 

As Jacob was staying at his dad’s that evening, YN and Harry had arranged to see each other again. Due to Jacob being picked up at 6:30pm, YN asked if Harry was happy to have dinner at her place instead. 

The sound of the door knocking alerted YN that Jack was here. Opening the door, they smiled at eachother and YN invited Jack in. “Jacob…Daddy’s here!”. 

“What are your plans for the weekend? Zara mentioned you were thinking of taking the kids to the beach”. YN asked Jack as they waited for Jacob. Zara is Jack’s fiancée and they have a little boy, Theo who is nearly two. 

Jack shrugged his shoulders at the question. “We’re going to let Jakey decide in the morning”. He looked at YN with a suspicious grin. “You’re dressed nice for someone who likes to be in her pyjamas by seven”. 

“I fancied a change…is that okay?”. YN laughed knowing how right Jack was. Usually by now she would be in her unmatching pyjama with a messy bun. 

Jack continued to stare, until he cracked. “You’ve got a date, haven’t you?”. The big smile on his face was genuine. He’d waited a long time for YN to finally give in and give someone a chance. “Who is he? Do I know him?”.

“Shut up Jack!”. YN could feel the pinkness rush up her neck and land on her cheeks. “It’s just a second date”. 

“Second? Second date?”. He continued to question. “You owe me and Zara all the details…oh wait until I tell her!”. 

“It’s still early days, but I like him”. YN admitted as they still stood in the hallway. “Why are you smiling like that?”.

“‘Cause I’ve waited for this day forever and I want you to be happy”. Jack couldn’t hide his excitement. 

“Daddy!”. Jacob ran his little legs into his father who scooped him up into his arms. “Missed you”. 

“I’ve missed you too bud!”. He kissed his cheek in affection. “Give Mummy a kiss and cuddle and let’s go have fun”.

YN cuddled Jacob tightly as she already missed him before he had left. “I love you to the moon and back again”. 

“I love you too Mummy”. His sweet voice whispered into her shoulder. 

“Go and have fun with Daddy and give Zara and Theo a big cuddle from me okay?”. YN watched as Jacob held Jack’s hand, ready to leave for the weekend. 

“You have fun too yeah?”. Jack wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, causing YN to roll her eyes. “Remember we want to know all the details”. 

“I love you Jacob…goodbye Jack!” YN put emphasis on the last part as she chuckled to herself. 

---

Harry arrived just after 7pm and YN couldn’t  believe how someone managed to look so good in an outfit so effortless. 

“Hi.” YN greeted him and gestured for him to come in before closing the door behind him. 

“Hi”. Harry let out a shy giggle at the sight of seeing YN again. He leaned in gently gave her hug and a peck on the cheek. “You look beautiful”.

“Thank you”. YN blushed at both the peck and compliment. “Come through”. Harry followed YN through another door before they entered what he knew was the lounge area. “I hope you didn’t mind coming here tonight…I just thought it was easier with Jacob being pick-“. 

“YN” Harry interrupted with a smile. “It’s fine…I promise”. Harry took a seat next to her on the sofa. “Here I’ve got us a bottle of wine”. 

“Oh something old and red.” YN rose from her seat as she looked at the bottle. “I’ll go and get some glasses for us”. She walked to the kitchen. She felt like she needed to keep herself busy, to ease the nerves. 

“You know your wine”. Harry showed his dimples as he fidgeted in his seat. He watched as YN walked through to what he assumed was the kitchen. 

He looked around trying to learn more about YN, when he saw a photo on the sideboard he went for a closer look. Harry pointed YN out straight away as she smiled loudly for the camera. She held a little boy in her arms, who he naturally thought was Jacob. But he wondered who the other people in the photo were. 

“I’ve got two glasses and some nibbles for us” YN disturbed Harry’s as she placed the glasses and some bowls with snacks in on the coffee table in front of the sofa. 

“Uh sorry…I was being a bit nosey”. Harry got himself into a fluster, as he placed the photo frame back in its original place. 

YN shook her head as Harry sat back down next to her, taking a sip of his glass. “You can look, it’s fine”. YN took a sip from her own glass. 

“Is the little boy you’re holding, Jacob?”. Harry couldn’t help but ask, he knew it was because he could see they had the same eyes that crinkled when they smile. 

YN glanced over at the photo. “Yeah it’s Jacob”. She smiled at Harry. “The man and woman is actually Jacob’s Dad and his fiancée and their little boy, Theo”. 

YN tried to read Harry’s reaction, but for once she couldn’t.  “It’s a lovely photo”. He complimented. 

“I know it probably seems strange…me having the photo but-“. YN began to justify herself, feeling her throat close a bit with nerves. Her voice wobbled a bit has she began to defend herself. 

“Hey” Harry’s voice was gentle as he reached over and touched her hand. “It’s okay…you don’t need to explain yourself to me…my first thought was that’s how blended families should be”. 

“M’sorry…it’s just people have told me it’s strange that Jack and I still get on…and that me and Zara are friends”. YN explained as she looked down at Harry’s hand that was still on hers. 

“Do you want to know what I think?”. YN nodded. “I think you need to stop believing what other people think, and actually be proud of yourself for putting Jacob first and being able to co-parent”. 

YN smiled at his words because she knew he was right, she cared too much about what others thought. “Okay…when do I start to see your flaws?”. She joked as she nudged his shoulder playfully.

Harry let out a laugh, his smile wide and his eyes crinkled. “What do you mean?”. 

“You just seem to perfect for me…me being a Mum doesn’t bother you…me getting on with my ex and his partner is fine too…you just seem too good to be true”. Harry laughed at YN’s teasing, rubbing his finger under his nose as he did. 

Harry shrugged his shoulders. “I’d like to think I’m quite humble…I mean my Mum was a single Mum when I was growing up and we would see my Dad on the weekend…so I think I just get it”: 

“Well tell your Mum she raised a one of kind”. Harry took YN’s compliment because he knew his Mum was the kindest woman he knew.

“Shall I order us pizza?”. 

---

It was later in the evening and YN and Harry were both a couple of glasses in, and full from sharing a large pizza. The effect of the wine was starting to show as they both became extra giggly and Harry’s hand now rested on YN’s knee as they both leaned towards each other. 

“Okay…never have I ever gone skinny-dipping?” YN asked and they both took a sip from their glass. “Spill!”.

Harry let out a chuckle at YN wanting to know details. “Uh…I was on tour with the band…and one night me and a few of the boys thought it would be funny to sneak down to the pool, and go skinny dipping”. 

“Did you get caught?”. YN asked as she leaned her head on her hand against the top of the sofa. 

“Only by our security…but they just laughed at us and told us to go back to our rooms”. Harry recited the memory. “What about you?”. 

“It was when I was in uni…we went on a trip to the beach and we were playing a game…and our team lost and that was the consequence…quite boring actually”. YN laughed at how plain her story sounded. 

“Next one…never have I ever…been walked in on whilst having sex”. Harry asked but his drink stayed in place. But YN brought hers up to her lips to take a sip. “Really?”. 

“Yes…it was so embarrassing!”. YN shivered at the memory of Jack’s older brother walking in at an awkward time. “Moving on…never have I ever joined the mile high club”. YN watched as Harry took a drink from his glass, a slight smirk on his face. “I always imagined it would be cramped”.

“Well I mean…depends on the plane…if it’s a private plane then you’ve got enough room”. They both laughed, the alcohol taking over. “Never have I ever..” Harry thought of another question. “Wanted to kiss someone in this room”. 

Harry knew it was a bold move, he knew it could go either way but with the alcohol in his system and how close they were sitting, he took the risk. The way YN stared at him, he thought he may have ruined the moment but as he moved his glass up to his lips, YN mimicked his movement. 

YN gently took his glass from his hands and placed them both on the table. “Maybe we should do something about that”.

Harry was in awe when she made the first move and placed her lips on his. He could taste a mixture of red wine mixed with strawberry lipstick, as their lips moved heavily against the others. Harry pulled her closer so she was straddling him, both looking for closeness. 

YN moved her hands so they rested just below Harry’s neck. Harry’s one hand found familiarity on her thigh, whilst the other rested against her cheek. Their lips remained eager to get to know the other and their hands wanted to follow suit but nerves still remained present. 

Taglist:

@ell0ra-br3kk3r @vikiii07-blog @sleutherclaw

[moviecritc]

hii could you write something about lestappen x reader? maybe taking care of max because he is sick? thank you 💕

sick days ⋆ lestappen

pairing: lestappen x reader

summary: after going on a long run in the morning, max ends up sick, but he doesn't accept it

word count: 1.5K

a/n: ok im in love with this, if you guys have more lestappen requests do them!! bc i love writing em <3

english is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes and poor storytelling.

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

Another day, Charles and you woke up feeling the absence of a body in your bed.

"Has he gone out for a run again?" you asked as you approached Charles's bare torso.

"I think so," he nodded, his voice sleepy. You leaned against Charles's chest to see the clock on the nightstand, eliciting a groan from one of your boyfriends.

"It's seven in the morning," you said, almost in a groan yourself.

You collapsed onto the bed, planting a kiss where your hand had rested before. You stretched out, and Charles slipped out of bed, putting on one of Max's Red Bull t-shirts. Before leaving the room, he kissed you on the forehead and then on your bare collarbone. You stayed in bed a little longer, dozing off while Charles prepared breakfast, as he did every morning. The winter break was your favorite time of the year. After being stressed all season with work, going back and forth, and spending weeks without seeing them, these months were the best gift.

Your days revolved around having breakfast together when Max returned from his run. Then, you would make love leisurely and shower together. If you felt like it, you would go shopping or play paddle tennis, then return home to cook together. The boys would then train in the sim or at the gym, and you would usually go for a walk with your friends or even train with them. Although when that happened, it often ended up in a long cardio session in bed. And to end the day, you would go out for dinner at some fancy place in Monaco and then drink and dance at a club.

That morning, Max took a little longer to arrive, but when he walked in, it seemed like a cold smoke followed him. It was mid-December, and it had been a cold winter in Monaco.

Max entered the kitchen and kissed Charles and then you. You noticed his outfit. "Aren't you cold, love?" You looked him up and down, with his short shorts and tank top clinging to his body from the cold sweat.

"Nah," he denied, brushing it off and wiping the sweat from his forehead.

You didn't think much of it until you went to open the window in your room and received a gust of cold air from outside. You were attentive to your boyfriend's behavior for the rest of the day, noticing how he had sneezed several times in the last hour or how, after the shower, he seemed even more tired than usual.

At noon, while Charles was preparing pasta for lunch, you went to Max, who was lying on the couch.

"How are you, love?" You sat next to him, intertwining your arm with his, and noticed - or rather heard - as Max sniffed his nose.

"Fine, why'd you ask?" Max furrowed his brow, feigning confusion.

"Oh, no reason," you shrugged, running a hand through his hair. "I just notice you seem tired."

Charles had an ear on the conversation, also noticing that Max was probably brewing something and hadn't mentioned it for some stereotypical nonsense he thought.

"No, no. Don't worry, schat," Max assured. "I'll go help you now."

He leaned in to kiss you, but at that moment, he started coughing heavily. You let out a sweet laugh and went over to Charles.

"Char, I think our Max is getting sick," you nodded, while Charles put an arm around your waist.

"It can't be!" Charles exclaimed, pretending to be surprised.

"No!" Max jumped in immediately, stood up, and practically ran towards them, swaying a little. "I'm not getting sick."

Max let out a heavy breath and leaned on the counter, catching his breath that he had lost in the four steps he had taken.

"I see," Charles commented, walking past him and giving him a gentle pat on the butt.

"Max, why don't you go lie on the couch? We'll take care of this," you suggested with a comforting smile.

Max rolled his eyes in a very exaggerated way and crossed his arms as you and Charles looked at each other and smiled knowingly.

"I'm going to the sim, I can see I'm not wanted here," he said, with a somewhat sad look.

When Max left, Charles and you looked at each other. "Is he mad?" you asked, leaning on Charles's shoulder and hugging him from behind while he cooked.

"Nah, he just thinks he's the strong one in the relationship," He gave you a soft kiss on the forehead.

In all the time you had been together, you had never seen Max weak. You had seen Charles cry and complain countless times over any little thing. But Max? That man seemed like a piece of iron when it came to feelings. He hadn't even cried at the end of How To Train Your Dragon, and although to some extent the image of a strong guy and the pillar of the relationship was fine, you were dying to see his softer side.

Twenty minutes later, Charles had finished cooking the pasta, and you went to the room where the sim set was.

"Charles, come see this," you called. He came immediately, finding Max totally asleep in the chair, with the car crashed in the first curve of the Monaco Grand Prix.

"Do we wake him up?" Charles whispered, looking at him lovingly.

"Wait," You approached him carefully, taking a picture of him. "Okay, wake him up," you smiled.

Charles began to leave soft kisses on Max's cheek and lips, even lightly biting his earlobe. The sleeping man let out a loud gasp and practically jumped up from the chair.

"Hey, easy, easy," Charles said, putting his hands on his shoulders.

"How you doing, sleeping beauty?" you said.

"I wasn't sleeping,"

"Oh, sure not," Charles said, with a little smile. "Wanna come eat with us?"

"Yeah, just give me a minute," Max nodded, stifling a yawn.

Both Charles and you heard him blowing his nose for almost two minutes straight. Max appeared in the living room, trying to pretend he was fine, but his reddened nose gave him away.

He helped set the table. "What are we going to do this afternoon?" the blonde asked before blowing his nose.

Charles and you exchanged glances, knowing that if you didn't do anything, Max would keep insisting he was perfectly fine.

"I don't feel like going out today," you commented calmly.

"Yeah, me neither," Charles agreed.

Both saw the look of relief on Max's face. "Oh, okay. Well, nothing then," he pretended.

"We can watch a movie," you suggested, shrugging.

After lunch, you cuddled up on the couch, and you chose the movie. You noticed Max moving closer to you, resting his head on your shoulder, which was usually the other way around. Towards the end of the movie, you heard Max sniffling repeatedly, and you didn't even consider that they could be tears until you saw Max wiping his face.

You glanced at him. "Are you crying?"

"No…" Max muttered with a thin voice.

Charles looked at them. "You're crying!" he exclaimed, and quickly changed positions, with Max now in the middle.

"It's just… he found someone who loves him," he said between tears, pointing at the TV. "Like I love you guys."

Charles and you looked at each other with a pout, immediately showering him with kisses. You were watching Shrek.

"Wait, wait, I don't wanna get you sick," Max said, denying the kisses.

Charles backed off a bit in surprise. "Are you admitting you're sick?"

"Of course I'm sick, look at me,"

They chuckled a little, and you got up to get some cough syrup and ibuprofen for your boyfriend, finally. It barely took a minute, but when you returned, Max was lying on Charles's chest while he stroked his hair.

"Did he fall asleep again?" you whispered.

"I think so, come here," Charles stretched out his hand, and you wrinkled your nose a bit.

"I don't want to wake him up,"

Charles rolled his eyes. "Come here, mon ange," he repeated.

You stretched out on the couch, under Charles's arm and covering Max with a blanket. From where you were, you could see Max sleeping perfectly.

"It's so cute to see him like this," you whispered to Charles, while he gave you kisses on your jaw and ear.

"Isn't it?" Charles agreed. "And get ready for tomorrow because he's going to be clingier than ever."

"It's like he's been waiting for this moment all my life," you said, with a radiant smile.

Charles chuckled slightly, causing Max to move a bit, letting out a moan and falling back asleep immediately.

[sp1d3rzz]

PLS DO MORE PERVERT!MIDORIYA 🙏🙏

Pervert!Midoryia

pt.2

pt.1 here

WARNING !! : Pervy drawings and fantasized descriptions, and mention of a boner. Let me know if I missed anything.

Summary : Bullying Midoriya was meant for fun, purely to keep you entertained. That is until he begins to fantasize about your actions.

A/N : Thank u so much for the req anon (о´∀`о) Keep sending in requests my loves !

It's horrible of him, and he knows that. To obsess and fetish over the one thing in his life that keeps him on a constant edge. His bully.

When you first began to pick on Midoriya, he figures that he'll just keep a safe distance. He doesn't bother you, and you don't bother him.

But once it becomes a daily game of cat and mouse, he realizes there must really be no escape to this. And he especially realizes that when he begins to fantasize about all you do to him.

The way his name sounds coming out of your mouth gets him hot all over. Immediate goosebumps that become easily noticeable if you pay attention.

Or when you throw an insult at him to hurt his feelings and ruin his self esteem, but it only gives him a boner because he likes the feeling of you putting him where he belongs.

You don't even notice till the day you snag his journal.

"What's the deal with this notebook of yours, huh?" your arms reach over from behind him and snatch the burnt, rusted notebook. You can tell he's had this for awhile.

Caught off guard, he quick fwips! around to grab it back. "Wait! Don't-" his face falls when he sees the spine bend open as your eyes scan over a page.

His cheeks gets red to the point his freckles are barely visible, and he scrambles to stand from his seat and take back his journal.

Though you quickly stop him with a hand to his chest to push him back down. "So defensive." You huff with a shake of your head.

You flip through a couple more pages as Midoriya stares at you in horror. He really hopes you dont get to the one page, he'd die if anyone were to see it.

His heart is racing, and his hands are trembling, anxious to know what you might do. Maybe you'll throw his book away? Maybe slap him and tell the whole class about his dirty secret?

The world is against him, because as soon as he thinks that, he sees your grin curve into a face of disgust.

Your eyes widen as you now go over every page more carefully, taking your time to actually analyze it. And he swears he's going to dig his own grave if you continue.

But when you slowly close the journal, and clear your throat with a flushed face, he gets confused. Why aren't you mad at him?

"Dork.." you mumble before shoving the notebook into his face and walking away.

Your friends follow behind you, asking why you let him off so easy this time. Though a small, 'felt nice today' leaves your lips so they quit pestering you.

But what they don't know is how Midoriya has written pages and pages all filled with you and your information. From the sketches of you when you don't notice he's there, to anatomy practice of your naked body he had imagined.

The top to bottom pages filled with filthy theories on what you might taste like, how you prefer sex, and the toys you may use.

The most noticeable thing was a drawing of you at an angle behind his head. Mouth agape with eyes teary and stained with mascara. He had you on his lap, green hair tangled from your hand clenching it.

One things for sure, you'll never see that nerd the same again.

[intheholler]

what do you think of all of the people being scared of appalachia? i don't know if this is recent or not, but currently i've been seeing a ton of shit online like "never go to the appalachian mountains, it's so dangerous", and i just don't understand it. my family's lived in appalachia for forever, and none of us have experienced anything paranormal or endangering to us. you're one of my favorite blogs on here and i'd just like to hear your thoughts on it

first off, it means a lot that i'm one of your favorite blogs and im really happy i can contribute something to your experience here :') thanks so much for being here <333

but ok so.

my thoughts on it are many. it's been bothering me a long time and i've been meaning to get it off my chest. this will be long and probably ranty, so it won't hurt my feelings if anyone skims lol

lemme preface this little diatribe by saying the obvious: folklore is an integral part of any culture. the mythos of a place/people is tied directly to their histories and unique experiences and struggles and they are enriching. this is true of appalachia too.

oral folk traditions especially are incredibly historically appalachian.

i mentioned in a post i made yesterday about murder ballads, how the purpose of these was to warn kids away from doing dumb shit and getting lost in the hollers--falling down cliffs n mineshafts and shit at night. gettin got by wildlife.

it spooked us safe. they served a purpose, and once you got old enough to realize they're as real as the tooth fairy, they just become enjoyable and nostalgic. because they're you're culture.

probably every mountain kid has stories about haints n boogers that were told to them by their grandparents, and they grow up to tell them to their own kids, and so on. some of it stuck with me because i grew up with the folklore.

by that i mean, i'm a whole 31 year old woman and i still avoid looking out a dark window at night cause it gives me the shivers. i still get spooked when i hear a big cat yowling in the woods. but the difference is i know there's not really haints out there crying--it's just a product of my childhood. ghost stories are fun.

the problem comes in when someone outside the culture gets their hands on appalachian oral folk traditions. then, it becomes a familiar problem: outsiders cherry picking appalachia and harming us with the mess they make rifling through it all.

it's all about the surface level and the visuals. they all love a good aesthetic blog, run by some local from out west or some shit who's never stepped foot here.

but as soon as the spooky photo filters come off and the real life marginalized person is left standing there just out of frame, we go back to being disgusting examples of what not to be. decrepit churches n buildings are aesthetic and quirky until they stop being on a pinterest board, and then they just become damning images of an impoverished region who deserves to be laughed at.

now, not to holler 'splain you--this is more for anyone not from here who might read this: it's been a systemic issue for decades; there were literal government campaigns to demonize us to the rest of the nation so they could garner support to cut into our mountains and exploit our labor and resources.

well, they were fuckin successful, and we have been falsely made out to be this homogenous nightmare of a place--"welfare exploiting" maga country who deserves everything we get, and nothing we don't.

by going so far as to take appalachian folklore that we tell each other and picking out the "aesthetic" stuff--the haints and general paranormal--they are pruning what they like from our culture--the safe things, like ghost stories--for their own aesthetic use.

but not only that, they are using it to demonize us… yet again.

'appalachia is scary. it's full of things that will kill you. don't look out the window at night cause a booger will get you.' only they don't call them boogers cause they ain't even from here. ask them what a haint is and they'll ask if u mispelled 'haunt.'

it gets even worse when you consider that so much of it has roots in native american culture, and how that continues to be exploited and misrepresented.

i'm not even innocent of that. a while back i had to check myself because i made a comment on here about ~spooky appalachia~ ignorant to the fact that what i was commenting on was actually a deeply important cultural and spiritual element to local indigenous tribes. my comments were harmful by my failure to educate myself and know better, thereby saying things carelessly.

my point being--i'm from the area. i should have known better.

when outsiders start saying the kind of shit they say about what they think they hear in the woods without even knowing where such an idea comes from, they're disrespecting a displaced, abused and exploited people, harming real cultures just for clicks without even knowing. that's on top of the damage they're doing to greater appalachia.

it's fuckin gross.

i think my favorite one i ever seen was this middle aged white lady going through her pristine mcmansion somewhere in suburbia, pulling the million curtains and locking the million doors, going "nighttime routine in appalachia!! 🤪🤪"

i could be wrong about this particular person--i didn't check their other tiktoks because im sick of them accounts and tired of giving them the benefit of the doubt--but it immediately came off as a transplant because:

1) mcmansion, 2) i dont know nobody here that locks their shit down like that (not locking up could even be argued as a part of my local culture, a reflection of our deep sense of community and trust in our neighbors).

and then the comments was all like "i don't know how you guys live there" and it actually broke my heart and pissed me off because even if--especially if--you're one of us, why the fuck are you harming us for likes? why are you turning people against us in a brand new way?

and to the transplants that do this--why?

you're not even from here, you moved here to this place you hate and made it worse just so your front porch would have a nice view, and are now benefiting socially from perpetuating bullshit about us?

you buy up all the land, land we often had no choice but to sell in the first place to survive instead of passing it on to our families, land we originally took from the indigenous peoples your content comes from.

you overdevelop it and turn it unrecognizable to make it more like the comfortable cities you come from. you gut a mountain town of its local businesses and cultures, you price people out of their homes...

...and then once you settle in all cozy like, you go tell everyone else how scary it is? how you can't trust the hills? like it's a cool paranormal bravery badge to wear? fuck off entirely.

so idk, in short my personal thoughts are: i personally enjoy a little myth as a treat, because the folklore is a part of the gothic, a part of our culture and a part of my childhood. i don't (intentionally) wield it as a weapon or use it as a pedestal to get the weird brand of attention that people like them are after.

and those who do this can get got by them haints for all i care.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

He Doesn't Deserve You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter Eight

Summary: Jungkook shows you how you deserve to be loved but you're still doubting yourself Pairing: Noona reader x Jeon Jungkook (She's 28 and he's 22) Word Count: 3.1k~ Warnings: Smuuuuutttt and explicit language lol a/n: Sorry I edged ya'll for so long but I wrote all day just to get this out! That you for the people who sent me asks about the story because I definitely took a lot longer to update than I thought I had (I swear I either update too soon or wait wayyy too long) p.s. Barely edited so please have mercy on me lol Start from the beginning

"Lift your hips for me love" he says while caressing the outside of my thigh and I do as he says. He places a pillow under me, angling my hips just how he wants them, giving him a better angle this time. 

He takes time to study my body, almost as if he was committing it all to memory. 

"Stop doing that" I whine, getting embarrassed by his heated gaze and he chuckles dryly as I use one of my feet to push him away by his shoulder. "I'm sorry I can't help it, you're just so beautiful" he mumbles and I have to choke back a sound I would be embarrassed to let out as a reaction to his word alone. Not wanting to let him how much control he has over me and my body. 

"I want you" I say, sitting up and grabbing him by the neck to pull him down on top of me  to stop this waiting game. He responds with kisses laced with almost a sense of desperation, him now showing physical responses based off of my words. 

"You have no fucking idea how long I've been waiting for you to say that to me" he says against my lips and that same fluttering feeling stirs up inside me. I open my eyes as he's just resting his lips against mine and see that he's looking at me and I turn my face to the side but he pulls me back towards him and caresses my cheek.

"How long have you known I wanted you?" he asks and the air in my lungs disappears, not knowing how I'm supposed to respond to it. "A while" I choke out and he nods his head resting it against mine. "Thank you for not leading me on" he says and he doesn't give me a chance to respond as he's pressing his lips against mine and driving me crazy as his fingers start to toy with me again. 

"You sure you want to do this?" he says, pumping two fingers in and out of me before adding another one making me tense up at the stretch but soon I'm putty in his hands again. "Yes please fuck Jungkook please I want this I want you" I say, emphasizing the last part since I know it drove him crazy just moments ago. 

I hear him curse under his breath before he get off of me and takes off his shirt, flashing those jaw dropping abs I was sure he had. Nothing insane but just enough to show me how well he takes care of himself leaving me wracking my brain trying to figure out what I did to deserve a man like him. 

Once he takes off his jeans and boxers I know I'm done for, leaving me gulping at his size. 

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you" he says, taking note of my apprehension as he gets on top of me again. "But what if I want you to hurt me?" I question, testing the waters and seeing how far he would push me. "No none of that. At least not tonight. I don't want any of this to be brought back to him" he growls out, hating the fact that he's even mentioned him. 

"I want to show you what you actually deserve and I want you to know that I will never treat you like that" he says and goes back to playing with my entrance, drawing figure eights around my clit to help me loosen up for him. 

I whine and he laughs, knowing exactly how impatient I'm getting, "I know pretty, I know. I just don't wanna hurt you" he says and drags his middle finger against that spot I've been dying for him to get to all night. "Fuck right there" I groan, back arching off the mattress and he does it again making my breath hitch, knowing this is only the beginning. 

"So greedy. Just trying to get you ready for me and you can't even appreciate what I've already given you. Noona I thought you knew better than that" he taunts and I moan when he hits that spot again. "Does my Noona like being talked down to?" he asks and I let out a breathy yes, not being able to comprehend everything completely but knowing I'll love anything he'll give me. 

"Noted" he says under his breath, tucking that bit of information in the back of his mind to use later but knows he wants to treat me differently tonight. 

He rubs his cock head up and down my fold and I can't help but purr at the feeling, so addicted to him already and knowing that I'll never want anyone else but him. 

I watch him with his brows pinched together, concentrating and also getting lost in the feeling. The vision of his cock running through my folds is a mesmerizing scene that he hardly wants to stop but once I start to wiggle my hips in frustration he knows that he's toyed with me enough.

"You sure you want this?" he asks again, once last confirmation of my consent and although I'm glad that he's being careful I just need him inside me already. "Fuck yes Jungkook please" are the words that fall from my lips, accompanied by a moan as he's started to press himself into me right when they've left my mouth. 

My eyes squeeze shut as he inches inside of me and once his head is all the way in I let out a breath and he stops, resting his forehead against mine and waits for me to relax. "Can I keep going?" he groans out, holding back being so hard for him with the way I've been wrapped around him. 

"Yes just go slow" I breath out and he does as I say, something about this moment almost makes me feel like a virgin again. The sounds, the sensations, the way he touches me, it all feels too pure and so new, as if he was scared I might break. 

My breath hitches a few times as he continues to push in but once he's bottomed out and has hit that spot I let out a moan, feeling close to cumming already.

He gives me a few more seconds to adjust, his breathing even shakier than mine making me feel the need to check on him. 

"Jungkook what's wrong?" I ask, surprised as to how I can even speak with him buried this deep inside me but my want to take care of him stronger than any high I might be seeking. "N-nothing it's just been a while" he chuckles, muscles in his back contracting and I can tell how much he's been holding himself back.

"You can move" I breathe out, happy knowing that he hasn't been with someone in a while and also that he's putting my needs before his own.

"Shit Noona you feel so good" he says as he rocks back and forth into me. A deep and sensual rhythm rivaled to Tae's harsh and sharp one, making sure I enjoy it rather than hurrying to simply chase that high. 

"You're so perfect for me" he say, mumbling every little thought that comes to his head, praising  me and making me drunk off his words, bringing me closer and closer to release with every thrust. 

"Kiss me" I say, my moans and breathy gasps getting too embarrassing for me to listen to anymore. He obliges but only for a moment, kissing me breathless but pulling back again so he can watch as my face contorts with pleasure. 

"Fuck you're so pretty" he says, thrusting harder now, driving me up the wall and knocking the wind out of me as he picks up his pace. His eyes darken when I open mine and look at him, drunken lust written all over my face and with the pace he's drilling into me at I can't even pretend to hold back. 

I wrap my legs around his waist to tell him to keep going, my nails no doubt leaving red scratch marks on his back, in an unintentional response to the purple marks he had sucked into my skin. My neck, breasts and torso, covered in proof of the time and effort he put into worshiping every part of me. 

He rocks into me over and over again, the sound of him getting more and more vocal showing me that he's getting close as well, letting myself relax from trying to hold off my high as every little thing he's done has dragged me closer and closer to that edge. 

"S-so close" I choke out and he chuckles, kissing me before telling me to let go. "Go ahead, show me how pretty you look when you cum" he taunts and at that I'm soaring, moaning his name over and over, unintelligible words accompanying it making him drill into me harder, the knowledge of him fucking me dumb driving him wild. 

"Can't even remember your name can you Noona? Only thing in that pretty little head of yours is mine now" he growls and his hips stutter, leaving him biting onto my neck to muffle his voice as he cums inside me. 

He fucks himself though his high leaving me whining in overstimulation and he soon pulls out and looks at the mess we've made.

"So swollen" he says, playing with me and pushing his cum back inside. "Jungkook stop it hurts" I say pushing his hand away from me and he stops immediately and lays down on his back, pulling me on top of him as we catch our breaths. The only sounds in the room besides us being the clock that sits on the wall, time passing by and reminding me that if I don't play my cards right this could be the last time this happens. 

"Are you okay?" he asks after our breathing has calmed and we've been stuck in silence for what I'm sure might've been a little too long for him.

I hum in response, not really knowing how to feel. "Did I hurt you?" he asks, his heart rate picking up audible to me with how he has me rested on his chest, letting me know he's scared he's done something wrong. "No Jungkook I'm fine I just..." I trail off and he sits up making me do the same  and I sit there with my head down, not knowing how to voice my emotions. 

"Do you regret it?" he asks, tilting my chin up so I can look him in the eye but once I do I can see vulnerability written all over his face, praying that I'll say no but knowing that even if I do there's a small part of me that might be saying yes. 

"No I don't regret it I just don't know how to feel. I never thought that I would be the kind of person who would cheat on my husband" I voice and he hums in response, making moves to get off the bed but I grip onto his wrist. 

"Where are you going?" I ask and he gives me a sad smile, "I was going to get you a towel so you can clean up. I thought you might want a second to think before we actually talked about this since I can already tell that you might feel like this wasn't the best decision" he says but when I open my mouth to say something I can't come up with anything to combat what he's said. 

He nods his head and guides my hand off of him, kissing the back of it before letting it go, my arm falling limp onto the bed while the thoughts of me hurting him plaguing me with even more guilt than the fact that I cheated. 

I don't know what I'm supposed to say to make this right.

He comes out of the bathroom that we had been in at the start of all of this with a warm towel that he uses on me after he guides me to lay back down, apologizing when he's pressed a little too hard, forgetting for a second how swollen I had gotten. 

He throws the towel in the laundry basket in the bathroom and comes back to the bed and sits next to me, running his fingers through my hair, no doubt trying to help me relax instead of stressing about all of the emotions I'm feeling flooding though my mind. 

"Should I go home?" he asks and my eyes widen, knowing for a fact now that I really have hurt him enough for him to want to leave. "No, please stay with me. I'm sorry I just don't know what's going on" I say truthfully and he nods, leaning down to kiss me but instead of on my lips this time he places one on my forehead, withholding a sense of intimacy that I might not want to continue to have with him. 

He asks me where some fresh sheets are and tells me to go to the bathroom and he'll have the bed ready again once I get back, giving me another opportunity to think things through. 

I cheated on my husband, a man that for as far as I know has been cheating on me for years and now I cheated on him. What I did though wasn't out of spite but the need to be with someone who truly cares about me. Someone I desire and desires me but not just my body. Someone who wants me mind, body and soul. Or at least I think he does. 

Do I really deserves someone like him? Someone so pure and kind and selfless when all I've caused him is pain and heartbreak. I knew that he was falling for me and I entertained him anyways because he was kind and young and handsome but I never intended for things to go this far. 

Am I happy that things turned out the way the they did? I don't know. Do I want to be with him? Yes. But I don't think he deserves to take on someone with so much baggage. He's still young and already has so much on his plate and I don't want to be the person who adds more onto it. 

Would it be wrong to be selfish for once? Would it be wrong to fall for a man that's fallen for me even with all my doubts and flaws and hesitations? I don't know the answer to that but I want to. God I want him more than I ever thought I could want someone. 

He's shown me what it feels like to be loved. Does he love me? I don't know but his actions have shown me he cares about me more than someone should care about a friend. More than a man should care about a woman who he hardly knows. 

"Noona" I hear accompanied by a soft knock on the other side of the bathroom door. "Is everything okay?" he asks, concern truly laced through his tone and I rush to finish up, needing to be with him. I answer with a hurried 'yes' and then once I leave the bathroom I make certain to show him that he's done nothing wrong. 

"I'm fine, I promise" I say, and chance a kiss to which he melts into, the tension he had once felt dissipating. "I'm sorry. I just didn't know how to feel after everything that happened between Tae and I before you showed up and then after he saw you and then with everything that happened between us it just hit me all at once" I say and he nods his head, grabbing my hand and leading me back towards the bed where we both sit down. 

"Are you okay?" I finally ask, remembering the fact that I have yet to check up on him but already knowing the answer since his body language betrays him whenever he's with me. "I'm just worried that you might not want to see me again after this" he says his eyes turned down, not being able to meet my gaze but I rush to deny his claims. 

"I would never say that. I'm sorry I worried you but I want you, not just physically but I want you to stay with me. Stay by my side" I say and his shoulders slump. "But you don't want to be with me" he says and I shake my head. "I want to be with you Jungkook I really do but I can't put a label on this..." I says and motion between the two of us, "until I figure out things with Taehyung" I finish and he lifts his head, needing to know exactly what I mean by that. 

"You're still gonna leave him right?" he asks and I give him a sad smile before nodding again, reassuring him that I meant what I said to him back there. "Yes I promise, I just have to see what my options are in terms of divorce and the possible need for a restraining order since I know what type of man Taehyung is. I'm just afraid that you might regret trying to be with someone like me" I trail off and his brows pinch together in confusion. 

"What do you mean someone like you?" he asks, clearly not seeing the bigger picture here. "Someone who has drama and is literally trying to get out of an abusive marriage and about to have a psycho ex husband that I know will be hanging around for God know's how long. I just don't want you to bite off more than you can chew" I say and he nods his head, understanding now that my hesitation hasn't been just regret or doubt but also concern for him. 

"Contrary to what you'd like to think Noona I know what I'm doing. I knew from the start what getting involved with a married woman might entail but I was up for it anyway because it was you. Call me young and dumb but I knew that I wanted to be with you from the first moment I saw you" he says, looking at me with the biggest, brightest eyes full of the purest form of puppy love that I truly hope will never fade.

"Okay" I say and grab his hand while he brings his other one up to cup my face and pulls me closer into a soft kiss. One that started off as a mere peck but has slowly turned into more, a fire being lit between us and as we inch closer and closer to the flame all I can do is pray that we won't turn to ashes once everything is said and done. 

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[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 35: Answers

You leave Jackson to find your daughters. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-34 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 5.4k

A/N: We are into the final arc of Yearling and we are going to see some TLOU 2 OVERLAP again. There isn't any this chapter but there will be in this arc and here's how: a character from that game will be mentioned as will the spoiler-y incident from a few chapters ago. What happens plot wise in this arc is completely separate from the game and entirely original content BUT there is that character overlap and more specific mentions of the incident and the motives behind it. If you're trying to go in blind to season 2, it might be wise to step back. Feel free to send me a DM, I'm happy to answer any and all questions!

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter

It was hard not to panic when the world was ending. 

You’d lived through it enough by now, you thought you’d get used to it. 

You never did. 

“Who has them, Kyle?” You asked, holding the boy’s shoulders, searching his eyes. He was still panting for breath, still looking terrified. “I need you to focus, who has them.” 

“That man, the one who was here a few months ago but left,” he said. “I can’t… He gave me so much to remember and I can’t…” 

“Cody?” You asked quickly, even though you knew you were right, your chest tight. “Does that sound right?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded quickly. “Yes, Cody, it was Cody, he has them. He sent me here, to find you. He told me to bring you and just you back, said if we came with anyone else he’d kill them. I’m so sorry, Mrs. Miller, I was just trying to help, I swear…” 

Your head spun but you didn’t have time to try to calm yourself down or even come up with a fucking plan. 

“Did he say why?” You asked, leaving the teenager hovering in your doorway as you went to your kitchen. You found a notebook and ripped a piece of paper out of it, the pen hovering over it for a moment. Like once you wrote what was going to happen there was no turning back. 

“He said you owed him,” he said. “And he that he would collect with them if it wasn’t with you. He said you’d know what that meant.” 

You held the pen a little tighter. You did know what he meant and you knew the kind of man Cody was, what he would take if you let him. 

You couldn’t let him. 

“Kyle, go in the closet by the front door,” you said, wondering how your voice wasn’t shaking. “There’s my patrol pack in there, it has my flashlight, my axe and my knife. Get them.” 

It wasn’t going to be enough but you didn’t have guns in the house and getting one would require talking to someone else, something you couldn’t risk, not when it was Savvy and Ellie on the line. You’d have to make do.

You tried to think of what to say to Joel, the man you loved more than you ever thought it was possible to love someone like that. How did you say goodbye to someone who meant that much to you when you didn’t want to leave? 

You did the best you could, signing your name - your real one - for the first time since you’d married Joel. 

“Found them,” Kyle said as you folded the paper in half and wrote Joel’s name on one side of it, leaving the note leaning against the flowers that he had picked for you before leaving town. You looked around the kitchen, at the spot on the counter where you perched as your husband cooked for you and the table where you sat with him and took a deep breath, hoping you’d see it all again. 

“You know where to go, right?” You asked. 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I memorized it.” 

“OK,” you said, clipping your knife to your belt, thankful that you’d just fallen asleep fully clothed so you didn’t have to stop to get dressed. You were in one of Joel’s shirts. You always were, when he was outside Jackson, when he promised to come home to you. “Lead the way.” 

You followed Kyle through the dark, quiet town. Even the Tipsy Bison was silent and you realized you weren’t sure what time it was but it had to be late, at least 3 a.m. 

“We’ll have to sneak out,” Kyle said, his voice low. “It’s what we did when…” 

You couldn’t think about it. 

“Show me.” 

There was an area of the fence, covered by a woodpile and not far from the schoolhouse, that easily pried apart, leaving enough room for a person to slip outside. 

Kyle climbed through first and held it for you to follow before the two of you scrambled for the nearest tree line, hoping that you made it out of town unnoticed. 

“How far?” You asked, looking back over your shoulder, your heart pounding. 

“Three hours, I think,” he said. “I’m so sorry Mrs. Miller…” 

“Tell me all of it,” you said, ignoring his apology. It didn’t matter now. “I need to know what we’re walking into.” 

It made so much sense when he laid it out for you. 

Savvy and Ellie had snuck out of Jackson the first night Joel was gone, the friends they were hanging out with apparently slipping out regularly. They stashed some pot outside the walls and liked to go sit and smoke when they thought they wouldn’t get into trouble, where they felt like they had some freedom. It was so typical of teenagers, it was almost funny. That even in the apocalypse, in a place like Jackson, the children found ways to rebel. Kyle and Savvy had wandered off from the group. They didn’t go far, just far enough that they felt like they had some privacy. Kyle wanted to ask her to the dance that was happening in a few weeks. 

That’s where they ran into Cody. 

He’d been nice, at first. Asking after Jackson, how things had been there. How he was thinking about trying to come back. He asked for information, enough that Savvy was starting to feel skeptical. 

And then Ellie found them. 

Ellie was worried, thinking that Savvy had been off on her own with a boy a little too long, and set off to find them. But she’d snapped when she saw Cody. She was a smart girl, she didn’t leave Jackson unarmed and she put her knife to Cody’s throat. 

He’d just smiled, something in his eyes that made Kyle uneasy, more uneasy than Ellie’s knife did. 

“Should fucking kill you right now,” Ellie had said, getting in his face. “Joel never should have let you live, I don’t give a fuck what she says…” 

“Ellie!” Savvy tried to go for her but Kyle stopped her, catching her around her waist and holding her back. “You can’t just kill him, he hasn’t done anything!” 

“Should listen to your sister, little girl,” Cody smirked. “I don’t come back, there’s a whole new set of problems for that perfect little town of yours.” 

“Fuck you,” Ellie spat. 

“You that serious?” He asked. “Come and get me. Tomorrow night. Bring your mom.” He’d looked at Savvy in a way that made Kyle feel sick. “And get your sister on board. Something tells me she might not know the real reason I left Jackson.” 

Cody walked away then, Ellie’s grip still tight on the knife for a minute before she put an arm around Savvy and stalked back off toward town. Kyle couldn’t hear what they were saying. 

When they made it back as dawn was on the horizon, he still wasn’t sure what set Ellie off. He wasn’t sure when Ellie and Savvy came to him the next afternoon, either, to ask him to go with them to find Cody that night. 

“I want to have the upper hand,” Ellie had said. “And you already know about him.” 

Savvy looked different then, something set and angry on her face. Kyle tried to ask her what was wrong but she wouldn’t tell him. He just went along with their plan, Ellie and Savvy out for Cody’s blood and Kyle wanting to keep the girl he was starting to fall for safe. 

But they made a mistake. 

They were outnumbered from the start, Cody bringing a dozen men to capture them. Ellie killed one as Kyle tried to run with Savvy but they failed. 

“Thought I told you to bring your mom,” Cody had said. “But that’s OK. Sure we can work something out.” 

He hauled the three of them away, walking a few hours into the forest, before sending Kyle back to Jackson to get you.

It explained so much of what had happened over the last day. The cagey way Ellie and Savvy were talking in the mess hall, the way Savvy had hugged you - Ellie had to have told her something - like she hadn’t in months, the odd way they were acting when you checked on them that night. 

“How many men were there?” You asked. 

“A lot,” Kyle said. “I don’t know for sure. At least 12 to grab us, we met up with probably another dozen or so after that…” 

“Right,” you said, your heart clenching. You weren’t making it out of this. You tried to resign yourself to that, that the best you could hope for right now was getting the kids out in one piece. “Did he say what he wanted?” 

“Besides you?” Kyle asked. “No. I’m sorry, Mrs. Miller…” 

“It’s OK,” you said, trying to keep him calm. “You did your best, you stayed alive, that’s the important thing.” 

The two of you walked in silence for a while, your heart pounding the whole time. You focused on getting to the girls. That’s all that mattered. You tried not to think about what was waiting for you on the other side of it. 

“When we find them, let me do the talking,” you said as the sunrise tinted the horizon red. “And stay behind me. If you see a chance to get Savvy or Ellie away, do it. Otherwise, do what I tell you.” 

“Yes ma’am,” he said, a tremble in his voice. “I’m really sorry, Mrs. Miller, I didn’t mean…” 

“I know,” you said quietly. “Just get them home.” 

You caught a glimpse of someone moving in the woods then, just on the edge of your vision, your head whipping around to track the motion on instinct. It was baked into you still, moving through the forest alone, being on guard, knowing when you were being watched. You’d survived most of your life that way and years in Jackson hadn’t pulled it out of you. The second you realized it was a man and not an animal, you adjusted your grip on your axe with one hand and reached behind you with the other, shifting your body so you were between Kyle and the man. 

It took you half a second to place his familiar face, one of Mitchum’s henchmen who was low enough that he wasn’t allowed to touch you, a slow smirk spreading over his face. 

“Well ain’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he emerged from a fern and gave a long, low whistle. “Mitchum’s been lookin’ for you.” 

“Bet he’s been lookin’ for you, too,” your hold on the axe tightened. You wanted to kill him but you couldn’t, not when you didn’t know where Ellie and Savvy were. “Unless you’re still his little bitch. But I don’t think he took too kindly to you taking off on him to serve some other asshole.” 

“You always did have a mouth on you,” he said, trees and brush at your back starting to rustle. “But look where that got you.” 

“And you were up his ass for how long?” You asked. “Where’d that get you, exactly?” 

His eyes narrowed and you tracked where you were hearing movement around you, the sound drawing closer. Kyle’s shaky hand grabbed at your bicep. 

“Don’t think the boss would be too happy with you picking a fight with our biggest commodity,” a man said from behind you. Kyle gasped and you felt him jump but you kept your  eyes on the first man. “You know what he wants with her.” 

“And what’s that, exactly?” You called over your shoulder, still tracking where Kyle was with your unoccupied hand. 

“Leverage, of course,” the man came around to the front of you, smirking just like his friend. You didn’t recognize him. “Mitchum has the biggest operation around these parts and you, it seems, are the only thing he wants that he doesn’t have. Give him you on a silver platter? We get first pick of new territory.” 

He looked you up and down in a way that reminded you of inspecting livestock. Your stomach turned.

“Don’t really see what all the fuss is about but,” he shrugged. “Don’t really give a shit.” 

“You got my girls?” You asked, cutting to the chase. 

His smile grew. 

“So the boss was right,” he shook his head a little. “You women, so predictable…” 

“If they’re not in one piece, I got no reason to leave you two idiots alive,” you snapped, losing your patience. You needed to see your daughters and you needed to see them now. “So if you don’t want my axe in your goddamn chest, you’re gonna take me to them right fucking now.” 

He licked his lips. 

“Might get the fuss a little more now,” he said, stepping close to you. He knew he had you, knew that you wouldn’t do anything that would risk Savvy or Ellie. “Gonna need that axe and knife and anything else you got on you or the boy. Then we’ll see if we can’t find your girls.” 

You narrowed your eyes but surrendered your weapons anyway. 

“Mrs. Miller…” Kyle whispered but you shushed him. 

“I’ll keep you safe,” you glanced behind you toward him. “Stay calm and do what they tell you.” 

You turned your attention back to the men in front of you, more emerging from the trees now. 

“If you’ve hurt either of them, you have no idea the shit storm you just brought down on your heads.” 

“Not much of a threat without your little toys,” he looked them over. “Something tells me we can take you just fine unarmed.” 

“Cody tell you what I did to the men who tried to catch me last time I got out?” You asked, brows raised. For half a moment, there was a flash of concern on the first man’s face. You nodded to him. “He knows. Take me to my girls before you find out first hand.” 

The second man quirked his jaw before jerking his head in the direction you’d been walking. 

“Keep up.” 

You only needed to follow them another 15 minutes or so, your heart pounding the whole time. Eventually, you came upon a clearing, a fire dying at the center of it with Cody standing right behind it, watching you approach with a satisfied smirk on his face. 

“Hey there baby doll,” he said, prowling around the fire to meet you. “You don’t look too happy to see me.” 

“Where are my daughters.” 

He ignored you, like you hadn’t spoken at all. 

“You’d think that, after last time, you’d learn…” 

“Where are my daughters.” 

“…that you should at least pretend to be grateful when you see me…” 

Your patience was gone. If he didn’t have Ellie and Savvy, there was no point to this. No point to his game, no point to trying to make it out alive. You needed to see them and you needed to see them now. 

The man at your left had a handgun in a holster on his right, one he wasn’t paying close attention to, his hands on his rifle that was strapped across his body. You, on the other hand, had paid attention. 

You went for the gun, moving fast enough that he didn’t know what was happening until he felt the tug of you pulling the weapon from his side, turning to face you with a frown on his face after you freed the revolver, pulling the hammer back as you raised it and pulled the trigger. He dropped, Kyle screaming in shock at your back, and you turned the gun on Cody, pulling the hammer back again. 

“WHERE ARE MY FUCKING KIDS!” 

You could feel every gun and eye turn to you as you fought to control your breathing, the sound of birds taking flight the only sound beyond the echo of the gunshot and your scream. But you knew they wouldn’t shoot you, not when you were apparently so valuable to their boss and their boss was still breathing. And if they were smart, the wouldn’t hurt Savvy or Ellie, either.

“You know you wouldn’t make it out of here alive,” Cody said, stepping closer, until the barrel of the gun was in his chest. 

“You think that matters if they’re gone?” You asked, brows raised. “If you killed them, all that matters is that I kill as many of you as I can before you take me down and I’m a damn good shot. So. Give me my daughters or another one of these fuckers dies.” 

He gave you a cocky smirk and whistled. There was rustling somewhere you couldn’t see but, after a moment, three men brought out Savvy and Ellie, bound and gagged. You clenched your jaw but stayed still, eyes ranging over them as quickly as you could, looking for all signs of injury. They were still dressed, a good sign. Ellie had a cut at her forehead, Savvy had a bloody bandage at her arm. You clenched your fist on the revolver. 

“See?” Cody said. “All in one piece. Now, hand over the gun before we have to change that.” 

Ellie’s eyes went wide and she shook her head at you, frantic, but you ignored her.

“Untie them,” you said, gun still in his chest. 

“Gonna need a little more incentive than that,” he said. “I know how you are with people who do you favors…” 

“Untie them,” you said again, pulling your eyes away from the girls to meet his. “Let me talk to them, make sure they’re OK, then let them go with their friend. And I mean let them go, your men stay where I can fuckin’ see ‘em. You do that? I’ll do whatever you want.” 

“Whatever I want?” He asked, looking you up and down. 

Your stomach turned. 

“You heard me,” you spat. 

He mulled it over for a second before smiling, cocky. 

“Deal,” he said, jerking his head toward one of his men. They moved to untie Savvy and Ellie. “I’ll take that gun now.” 

You lowered the weapon and turned it around in your hand before holding it out to him, handle first. He took it. 

“Good as you are, don’t know if I ever thought your pussy was worth all the fuss Mitchum made over you,” he said, handing the gun to one of his henchmen. “But damn if it ain’t fun to watch you break.” 

“Mom!” Savvy was freed first, running for you and throwing her arms around your neck. You clutched onto her, clinging to her, breathing in the scent of her, floral with a hint of apple and hay and gunpowder. “I’m so sorry, Mom, I’m so sorry…” 

“It’s OK,” your voice was thick and you tried to focus on how she felt in your arms so you could hold onto that memory before stepping back from her. “Are you OK? They touch you?” 

“I’m fine,” she sniffed. “They got my arm a little but…” 

“They haven’t touched you since you’ve been here?” You asked, brows raised. “No one’s hurt you or…” 

“No,” she shook her head. “No, they tied us up but they haven’t done anything.” 

“Good,” you nodded, brushing her thick curls back from her forehead. “That’s good.” 

Ellie approached you cautiously, like she was waiting for you to yell at her but you didn’t. You didn’t even want to, there was no point to it. Instead, you pulled her into your arms and held her tight as she pressed her face into your shoulder. You tried to remember her, too, the daughter who came into your life so late and that you desperately wanted more time with. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, voice thick and wet. “I thought I could handle it, I thought…” 

“S’OK,” you said, stepping back from her and looking her over, too. Her lip was split and the blood at her forehead was dried, the cut there scabbing over. “Ellie, I need you to listen to me. You’re in charge, OK? You’re going to get Savvy and Kyle back to Jackson…” 

“But -”

“No,” you said, harsher than you really meant. “This ain’t a discussion, this is me telling you what you’re going to do, do you understand me.” 

“I can’t just leave you here!” Her eyes were wide and desperate and you forced yourself to be calm. 

“Yes, you can,” you said, taking her by the shoulders. “Ellie, the most important thing you can do right now is take care of your sister, do you understand me?” She nodded. “You get her and Kyle back to town. You’ve patrolled, you know how to do it safely. Get them there. That’s your job, they are your responsibility. Promise me you’ll get them home.” 

She looked like she wanted to argue but you held her tighter. 

“Ellie,” you said. “Promise me.” 

“But…” 

“Promise me!” You yelled it, loud enough that you saw Savvy flinch out of the corner of your eye. 

“I promise,” she said, crying now. 

It was like a weight lifted. You knew it was hours back to Jackson but, if Ellie actually kept her word, they’d make it. They would be safe. That was all that mattered. 

“Thank you,” you pulled her in for another hug, kissing her cheek as you did. “I love you so much. Take care of yourself and your dad for me, OK?” 

“I love you too,” she breathed. 

You gave her a final squeeze and went for Savvy who was fighting back tears. 

“Mom,” her voice was thick and wet. “I can’t…” 

“Yes, you can,” you said gently. “Go with Ellie, do what she tells you and you’ll get back safe. Listen to Joel, stick with school, find your place in Jackson. Have a good life, OK?” 

She shook her head. 

“I don’t want to do it without you,” she’d given up on not crying now. “I tried to before and I don’t want that, you need to be there, Mom, I need you, I…” 

“Savvy,” you said, holding her face in your hands, brushing her tear-streaked cheeks with your thumbs. “Everything I’ve done for as long as you’ve been mine has been for you but you don’t need me now. You’re all that matters. You get back safe, you have a good life with people you love. You do that and I’ll have done everything I needed to do. So give me that, OK?” 

You didn’t give her a chance to reply, just pulling her in close and holding her there, kissing her cheek as you did. 

“I love you so much, baby girl,” you whispered. 

“I love you, too,” she said. 

You stepped back and looked at them for a moment before casting a glance at Cody. 

“They need weapons.” 

“That wasn’t part of the deal.” 

You rounded on him. 

“Give them weapons,” you said through clenched teeth. “Or I’ll kill as many of your men as I can between here and Mitchum.” 

He smirked a little before jerking his head in the direction of one of his men. They surrendered knives you recognized - ones you were sure Ellie and Savvy had come here with - and your axe. 

“Better get going,” Cody said. “Before I change my mind.” 

You just nodded and watched them go, Ellie and Savvy looking back at you as long as they could, Ellie pulling Savvy along side her as they went. You kept looking at the place where they’d been long after you couldn’t see them anymore. 

“Alright Doll,” Cody said eventually, stepping forward with cuffs in his hands. “Wrists together. Not about to risk you changing your mind on that deal. You’re a little too valuable and it’s time for me to cash in.” 

***

“Joel.”

Tommy sounded desperate. Joel ignored him. 

“You can’t just take off…” 

Tommy’s hand came to Joel’s shoulder but he ripped it off, rounding on his brother, moving quickly and decisively and backing the younger, smaller man into a building. 

“You tryin’ to tell me I can’t protect my family?” Joel towered over him. “You gonna try and stop me?” 

“Can’t do shit for them if you run out there hot headed,” Tommy said, his eyes darting over Joel’s face, like he was watching a wild animal. “You can’t help them if you’re dead, you need to wait, you need a plan…” 

“I have a fuckin’ plan!” He didn’t have time for this. “Get my girls back. Don’t try to fuckin’ stop me.” 

“Joel,” Maria’s voice was behind him, calm and collected. He turned to face her, ready to go through her, too, if he had to. “We have everyone out looking for them, there are no fresh horses because we sent everyone we had as soon as we could. We’re looking for their trail but they could be anywhere. Wait until we have people back to go with you, wait until we know where they went. If you run off now, you’re only going to make it worse. You’ll waste time. Give it a few hours, Joel.” 

“A few hours?” He bit out. “You want me to sit here for a few fuckin’ hours while that monster has my wife and kids? Expect me to let him hurt them for hours while I fuckin’ wait?” 

Maria didn’t have a chance to respond, the sound of chaos at the gate sending the three of them running for it. 

Joel reached it just as three horses rode up. It took him a moment to realize they each carried more than one rider. His heart pounded. For one second - a glorious, peaceful second - he thought everything was going to be OK. That they’d found you and the girls before anything bad happened, that he was going to be able to hold the three of you close and never let you go again. 

And then he realized that you weren’t there. That you’d gotten the children you shared with him back but you hadn’t made it. 

“Joel!” Ellie jumped off her horse before it had fully stopped. “Joel, he has Bambi, we have to go get her, we have to.” 

She threw her arms around his neck and clung to him and he could feel her taking shaky breaths. 

“It’s OK Baby Girl,” he said, holding her close. “I’ve got you, you’re OK.” 

“We have to go get her,” Ellie said again, frantic as she pulled back from him. “We have to.” 

Joel, Tommy and Maria led the girls and a trembling Kyle to the clinic. Ellie and Savvy didn’t wait for the doctor to be done looking them over as they sat beside each other on the exam table, the story spilling out of them quickly. How they’d lied to you and snuck out of Jackson the first night he was gone. How they’d run into Cody in the woods. How Ellie threatened to kill him and Savvy didn’t understand why. How he told them to come back the next night with you. How Ellie had told Savvy everything she knew about what happened to you. How Savvy wanted to leave then and there to take care of it and Ellie had to make her wait, confident that they could handle him. How Ellie had killed men like him before, how she was sure she could do it again. How they got help from Kyle to be sure. How it had all gone to shit the second they were too far from Jackson to get help. How you’d come for them, how you’d sacrificed yourself to get the three of them out safely. 

How Joel knew that’s exactly what you would do. 

Because of course you would. It was exactly what he would have done. How would you have done anything else? 

“We need to get her back, Joel,” Savvy was crying, pleading. “We can’t leave her there with him, we can’t, please…” 

Joel looked between the two of them. He wanted to scream. He wanted to ask why. Why had they snuck out? Why had they tried to take matters into their own hands? Why had they put themselves in such danger? Didn’t they know, if they failed, you’d have no choice? That you would do anything for them? That he would, too? 

But yelling and questioning wouldn’t do any good. What was done was done. Taking his fear out on them would only make shit worse.

“I’m gonna get her back, Baby Girl,” Joel said. “I’m gonna bring her home.” 

He turned and gave Tommy a look, half begging for help, half daring him to stop him. Tommy just squared his jaw and gave him a single, firm nod. Joe returned it and the went to leave, but Ellie stopped them, catching them on the porch of the clinic. 

“I’m coming, too.” 

“No,” Joel shook his head. “No, you’re stayin’ here…” 

“No,” she said sharply, a fierce look in her eyes. “I’m going. I can help, I know…” 

“It don’t matter,” Joel cut her off. “Not putting you at risk…” 

“I don’t care about the risk!” She snapped. “You can’t just expect me to sit here on my ass while she’s out there…”

“You think she’d want you gettin’ hurt for her?” Joel grabbed Ellie by the shoulders and held her tighter than he should. “She took care of you by…” 

“By cleaning up a fucking mess I made!” She yelled before closing her eyes for a moment, a single tear slipping down her cheek. She took a deep, centering breath before opening her eyes again, voice calmer now. “I never had parents, Joel. I never had anyone who loved me like that until you and then she showed up and she didn’t have any fucking reason to care about me like that but she did. She’s my mom and I got her hurt because I tried to handle shit on my own. I’m not handling it on my own now, I’m handling it with you. I know what you’re capable of. I know what you’re going to do. I’m telling you that I don’t want to be here when you do it, I want to be with you. I want to get her back and I want to make him fucking pay and I can’t do that from Jackson. So are you going to let me come with you or are you going to make me sneak out and try to handle this shit on my own again?” 

Joel looked to his brother. He’d done shit like this more times than he cared to count but only twice with stakes as high as this. Every time, it was either alone or with Tommy at his side. He knew he wouldn’t be able to do what he normally did with Ellie there. He’d be worrying about her, watching for her, protecting her. 

But they were out numbered and Ellie was a strong rider who was smart and good with a gun. 

“She’s an adult, Joel,” Tommy said hesitantly. Joel could see in his eyes that he was thinking about William, if he would let his son do something so reckless if he had any say. “And she does a good job on patrol.” 

Joel took a deep breath. 

“You gotta listen,” he said. Ellie was already nodding quickly. “Do what I say so I can keep us all safe. I tell you to get back to Jackson, you do it. If you’re a liability out there, you’re makin’ things worse for her, not better. Got it?” 

“Yes.” 

“Repeat it.” 

“What you say goes,” she said, watching him closely. “I won’t fuck up, Dad. I promise.” 

In another time, another place, Joel’s heart would have soared in that moment. Just knowing that Ellie saw him the same way he saw her made him feel complete in a way he didn’t realize he was missing. 

But he wasn’t able to enjoy it. There was another vital piece of him that was gone, one he was going to get back if it was the last thing he ever did. 

“OK,” he said, looking at Ellie. “Let’s go get your mom.” 

A/N: Figured we'd kick off the more feral part of this fic with some Feral!Bambi. Don't worry, Feral!Joel fans, he's up next ❤️ As always, thank you so so much for reading and for sticking it out with this fic! I know it's been a long one. I'm glad you're still here. Love you!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust @ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost @beccerjune @mumma-moonchild @netonetoneto @mellymbee @purplelye @n7cje @flugazi @evyiione @randomhoex @aliengirl99 @orcasoul @reds-ramblings @pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel @jenispunk @panda-pascal @sarap-77 @flugazi @your-slutty-gf @daniegraceg @partyofone3413 @cumberpegg @noisynightmarepoetry. @fifia-writes @grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123 @ashleyfilm @arizonadreamingg

[scoonsalicious]

3.1 Bucky

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sex, toxic plants (it's Lily, guys; Lilies are toxic)

Word Count: 929

Previously On...: You and Bucky were amazing together <3

A/N: The morning after.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Around mid-morning, Bucky came walking back into the common room of the Compound, a spring in his step and whistling an old Big Band tune. He made his way over to the kitchen, opening up the refrigerator and grabbing himself a bottle of orange juice.

“Well, well, well,” Sam sniggered from where he sat at the dining table, eating a bowl of cereal, with Steve at his left. “Look who’s just waltzing home in yesterday’s clothes after being out all night. James Buchanan Barnes, are you doing the Walk of Shame?”

Bucky took a swig of juice and smiled at his two friends. “Not sure what that is, exactly, Big Bird, but I can promise you that I am feeling no shame right now.”

Sam and Steve exchanged a look of surprise. “Last night’s clothes? A smile on your face? No sarcastic comeback? Why, Steve, I do believe our grumpy little friend got himself laid last night!”

Bucky grinned; he couldn’t even be bothered to be irritated by Sam’s sass this morning, he was still riding the high of last night and early this morning. “Guys,” he said, coming to sit down on Sam’s other side at the table, “Major is amazing. She’s smart, she’s funny, she kicks actual ass. I’ve never met a girl like her before. I think this could really be something.”

Steve offered his friend a gentle smile. “Buck,” he said, “I’m happy for you. I really am, but don’t go rushing into anything, okay? You’ve only just met the girl. Just because you slept together once doesn’t mean you have to fall in love right away.”

“Six, Steve,” Bucky said proudly.

“Huh?”

“I had sex with her six times between bringing her home last night and leaving her place this morning.” Bucky flushed at the memory of the past several hours– in Major’s bed (three times), on the washing machine while his clothes were going through, against the railing of her balcony as the sun rose, and again in the shower. Hell– he wasn’t even counting what happened on the living room floor.

“You damn, dirty dog!” Sam said appreciatively, giving Bucky a playful punch on the shoulder. “Congrats, my man! I didn’t know you had it in you!”

Bucky ducked his head down in pleased embarrassment. “I told you, guys; she’s something. Something special. I’m seeing her again tonight; taking her out on a proper date.”

Steve reached across the table and clasped Bucky’s hand. “I’m happy for you, you punk,” he said. “You deserve a good woman, just be careful about rushing into things.”

“Well, look who finally decided to find his way back home.” Bucky looked toward the door as Lily walked in, hands on her hips and looking pissed. Ignoring both Sam and Steve, she glared angrily at Bucky. “Where the hell were you all night?” she asked accusingly. “First, I come out of the bathroom last night, and you’ve left the bar without a single word of goodbye, then I was worried sick when you didn’t come back to the Compound. Even tried to get this one,” she nudged her chin to indicate Steve, “to track your location data, but he refused.”

“I stayed in the city last night,” Bucky said, not wanting to mention Major to Lily just yet until he’d had a chance to ascertain if she was still pissed about their interaction at the bar last night. “It was storming; didn’t want to risk driving the bike all the way back up here in the rain. You know how these back roads get when they’re wet.”

Lily’s face softened. “I just wish you would have called me, or at least answered one of my texts,” she said. Shit. Bucky had put his phone on Do Not Disturb while Major had been getting towels, and he never took it off. “I was up all night, thinking you’d gotten into an accident and were dead in a ditch, or got re-captured by Hydra and turned back into the Winter Soldier…” She trailed off as tears began to form in her waterline, and Bucky felt awful. Here he’d been, out having the time of his life with the most amazing dame he’d ever met, and his best friend was driving herself sick with worry for him because he couldn’t have been assed to send her a text. He stood up and walked over to her, pulling her into a hug. “I’m sorry, Lil,” he said. “I swear, I didn’t mean to make you worry. I wasn’t planning on staying out all night, it just sort of happened. Next time something like that happens, I’ll let you know.”

“You better,” she sniffled. “I was really scared.” 

Bucky heard Sam cough from the table in a way that sounded a lot like “bullshit” and looked up at his friend. “Sorry,” he said, hitting his chest with a closed fist. “Milk went down the wrong pipe.”

Lily frowned in Sam’s direction. “How about you take me out to our brunch to make it up to me?” she said to Bucky, keeping her arms wrapped around his waist.

Bucky wasn’t the least bit hungry– Major’d made him scrambled eggs and bacon before he’d left her condo this morning and, if he was being completely honest with himself, he was exhausted. He’d only gotten maybe two hours of sleep last night, and had had quite a physical workout. But he felt awful about having had made Lily worry. “Yeah, sure,” he said, giving her a friendly squeeze. “Brunch with my best friend sounds amazing.”

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[aperrywilliams]

Douchebag Falls Short in This Case (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Part 1: If Anything I Find it Educative

Part 2: It Was Horrible Until It Wasn’t

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Spencer and Reader can’t have their scheduled lunch, but they keep talking by phone and texts. After Spencer returns from a case, they can see each other again. If Spencer hadn’t been mesmerized with Reader, now he is, and maybe is more than that.

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: Some strong words. Description of Road Rage Disorder. Talking about bad experiences at high school (nothing explicit). Emily is the best older sister to Spencer.

A/N: The prospect of them having a date was too tempting not to do it. This one is part 3 of “If Anything I Find It Educative” (Part 2 of “It Was Horrible Until It Wasn’t”). Let me know your thoughts!!! I’m here to read you guys.

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Spencer's POV

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Me: Are you free on Saturday at midday? We could go to lunch. Let me know. Good night. S.R.

Heimlich Master: Yeah. Lunch sounds great. Let's talk about the details later. Good night :)

My face hurts from the big smile I sport right now. Smile that doesn't fade once I get to my apartment.

How did I manage to text her right away? I would never know, but I thank that moment of confidence.

Now I can't wait to see her again on Saturday.

---

I should have known making plans wouldn't work for me. It's Friday afternoon, and I'm on the jet about to take off for a case in Los Angeles.

There goes my lunch with (Y/N).

I grab my phone to type a text to let her know.

Between last night and today, we have been texting back and forth about what time on Saturday works for us and whether I had a place in mind. I did, but I told her it was a surprise.

Now I must cancel, and I can't stress enough my disappointment.

Me: Hey. I'm so sorry, but I'm leaving for a case in L.A. Can we reschedule our lunch? Please don't hate me.

Heimlich Master: Oh, it's okay. Don't worry; of course, we can reschedule.

Heimlich Master: Let me know when you come back. And don't be silly; I don't hate you.

Heimlich Master: Can I ask you for something, though?

Me: Sure. Anything.

Heimlich Master: Can you prevent Morgan from kick-down doors this time? The bureau budget would appreciate it.

I can't contain the snort that leaves my lips, gaining Emily's attention. Bad luck of mine; she is in a seat just in front of me.

Me: I'll do my best. Promise.

Heimlich Master: Thank you. Have a safe flight :)

Me: Thanks :)

Look at me! Even using emojis.

Penelope would be proud of me.

I set my phone on the table to exchange it for the book I chose for this flight. Emily's voice stops me before I can do that.

"So, are you going to tell me why you are so smiling?"

And here we go.

"Me?" I lift my eyes to Emily, who has a smirk on her face. I hate that she already knows what's happening, not even knowing what's happening.

"Sure, genius. I don't see anyone else here so amused and focused on his texts. Not to mention the grin that could illuminate the whole D.C."

"No, I'm not!" I defend—a poor attempt to keep the transparency of my face at bay. Emily scoffs, and that's all it takes to know she doesn't believe me.

"I understand you don't like to talk about your personal life. I get it. And I won't bug you as Morgan would, yet knowing it is related to your love life. But don't try to fool me. It's insulting," she says, the last part faking hurt. That makes me chuckle.

"That being said, I just want you to know I'm here if you need to talk. It's not always good to keep things to yourself."

Not waiting for my response, she picks up the folder with the current case details to read.

I have known Emily for a few years now, and even if we didn't start on the right foot - entirely my fault - she's proven very supportive. Gosh, once she endured a whole beating from an unsub only to keep me safe.

Beyond that, she knows how to talk to me without treating me like a kid. Sometimes, I can't say the same about the rest. Of course, I don't blame them; they've always seen me as the team's baby, but I appreciate Emily doesn't.

"That's the thing. This," I point my gaze where my phone is. "I don't know what it is," I sigh. Emily's eyes are back to me. She sees how confused I am.

"What do you think it is then?"

I don't want to betray (Y/N) 's trust by spilling details about her life, so the specifics of our talks are out of the table.

"I can't deny there is a connection between us. We only met twice—both by chance. But they led us to talk for hours. And I ask myself, am I reading this wrong, and she only sees me like a, I don't know, potential friend?"

"Why would she? She told you she was only looking for a friend?" Emily asks, her hands resting lightly over the folder on her lap.

"No, she didn't. It's a deduction of mine, though. I mean, she recently ended a relationship —a very serious one."

Just remembering the reason that led to that breakup makes me sick.

"Okay. That could be a thing, but not necessarily. Maybe things ended precisely because she wanted something different. That's not bad," Emily hypothesizes. I shake my head.

"I'm not so sure. Let's say she wouldn't have ended the relationship until something big happened. Big enough for her to realize the guy was a total -"I trail off. What would be the right word?

"A douchebag?" Emily offers.

"I think douchebag falls short in this case," I point out. Emily's eyes widen.

"That bad, uh?" I nod.

"She is vulnerable right now, and I don't want to take advantage of that. But at the same time, I want a chance with her. Am I a bad person?"

"What? No! Spencer, don't say that," Emily rushes to stop my spiral. "Far from that. You are considerate enough to see she's in a complicated situation. Most of the men don't even care about that. Cut her some slack, though. She is a grown-up woman, and if she wants to get to know you, why not let her? If she hasn't already, I bet she will see the great man you are. And not only as a friend."

My eyebrows furrow.

"Do you think so?"

"Sure. And for how you describe her, I don't think she is the type to play with people's feelings. Although, I strongly recommend being honest with her. That will prevent false expectations."

I take in Emily's words, and they make perfect sense.

"Thank you, Emily. I didn't think about it like that," I

muse. "Can you do me a favor, though?"

She nods, anticipating what I'm going to say.

"I know. Not a word to anyone. Got it," Emily confirms with a reassuring smile.

---

The heat in Los Angeles for the last three days has been overpowering. Just as catching this unsub has become extremely frustrating.

I'm in the meeting room they lent us to work in, reviewing the details of the case over and over again. The rest of the team is outside the precinct following our latest leads.

My head started to hurt, and I had to close my eyes for a moment.

As I focus on breathing, my phone pings. I open my eyes and see a text from (Y/N).

Heimlich Master: How are you? I read that L.A. has a heat wave; I hope it's not hitting you too hard.

I can't help the smile that pushes the corners of my lips upward.

Me: I'd like to say it's not affecting me, but I don't want to lie. I will survive, though. Please tell me how nice the weather is in D.C., and I'll aim to finish this case as soon as possible.

Heimlich Master: I thought our lunch was enough incentive for you to do that. Now I feel bad.

Oh, fuck. What did I do? Of course, it's an incentive for me. It is THE incentive, actually. I have been thinking about that since Friday when I came here. Now she's assuming I don't care.

How can you be such an idiot, Spencer?

I must fix this immediately, so I hit the call button—a confused (Y/N) answers on the other end.

"Spencer?"

"Hey. I - uh. I decided to call because I needed to explain myself. Please, don't feel bad. Of course, I want our lunch to happen. I wasn't saying it like if I don't. I mean, the heat is fucking insane here, but it's not-"

"Spencer, hey, don't-" she tries to make me stop. Still, I am so determined to say everything necessary to explain myself that I continue my rant.

"What I'm trying to say is-"

"Spencer, wait!" (Y/N)’s firmer voice halts me in my failed attempt at an apology. It's sufficient enough for me to shut up.

"Sorry. What were you about to say?"

"I'm sorry for stopping you, but it sounded like you would run out of air and pass out. Now I feel awful because the last thing I wrote was only to mess with you. I didn't want you to feel like I was accusing you of something, much less that you owed me an apology."

"Oh," I mumble, now making sense of the whole exchange. My cheeks heat up realizing I went from 0 to 100 in seconds. (Y/N)'s voice sounds anxious now.

"Please, forgive me if I worried you that way. That's why I hate texts; I can't control my teasing tone as I do when I talk to someone."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I don't want (Y/N) to think she did anything wrong, though.

"No, don't say that. I'm not good at - literally - reading social cues. I should have noticed. I just need some practice," I chuckle. I can hear a chuckle on the other end, too.

"Well, since we already cleared up our first miscommunication problem. How are you?"

That sentence shouldn't make my heart skip a beat, but it does.

Get your shit together, Spencer.

"With the heat and the lack of progress in the case, it is a bit frustrating. But we'll make it. How about you?"

"Good, actually. Not the load of paperwork I had last week, and my boss just asked me to prepare a lecture for the trainees in forensic accounting."

"Wow, that's amazing!" I chirp, excited.

"I'm a bit nervous, though. But I'll live," (Y/N) sighs.

"You'll do it great. I didn't know you were into teaching," I muse, remembering our prior conversations.

"I didn't, either. But I've had some previous experiences, and they have been okay. So, the case? That bad, uh?"

That brings me back to L.A. and the case. I was very comfy with my mind in (Y/N).

"He's taunting us. I mean, the police force. But we have a strong profile. One more piece, and we have him," I assure, trying to be convincing enough.

"You guys know what you're doing. You'll catch him, Spencer." (Y/N) sounds like she has no doubt. It fills my heart with warmth because although she doesn't have to put that amount of trust in me, she does it anyway.

"Reid?" I turn to see Morgan and J.J. walking into the room. She hears it, too.

"They need you. You have to return to work," (Y/N) concludes. I let out a sigh.

"Yeah. I have to go," I mumble apologeticly.

"Of course, you're working. It’s okay," she affirms with understanding.

"I'll let you know when I'm done here. Take care, okay?" I whisper into the receiver.

"I will. You too, be safe. Bye."

I can see Morgan's smirk and JJ’s curious look when I hang up.

I know they're dying to ask me questions, but now is not the time, and I don't want to either. So before any words come from their mouths, I hasten to speak.

"Did you find anything? I was examining what we have so far, and I think we are missing something. Look at this," I tell them, pointing to the scattered photos on the table. They look at each other and hesitate to interrupt me or play along. Thank goodness they opt for the latter.

---

Me: Did you know L.A. has an abandoned underground tunnel network? If they are put together, it will stretch out 17 kilometers. They exist due to the Prohibition. When alcohol was banned in L.A. in early 1920, 35,000 gallons of wine were poured into its sewers. But, far from eradicating booze, prohibition pushed its use underground, literally.

Heimlich Master: Wow. I didn't know that. But I'm afraid to ask why are you telling me this. Are you trapped in one of those tunnels, and this is a call for help? [see attached photo]

Me: Ha Ha Ha. Let's say I've been studying those tunnels all day. Good thing we have Morgan and Prentiss to do the dirty job, though.

It's my fifth night in Los Angeles, and I don't know whether to laugh or cry. The only things that have kept me at least in a decent mood are the texts and short calls I have shared with (Y/N). I've never been very fond of using technology, including my cell phone, but thanks to (Y/N), I haven't even questioned it.

We've been sharing fun facts and memes. If you had asked me a week ago what a meme was, I wouldn't have known what to answer. The word was familiar to me thanks to Garcia, who often mentions them, but now I can say that I know more about them than I would have expected to. (Y/N) is a regular, and I can understand more of her sense of humor because of that. She especially loves the ones with a philosopher dinosaur and those where a woman yells at a cat.

Heimlich Master: How is the case going?

I'm about to reply when hard knocks shake my hotel room door. I hear Morgan's voice on the other side. "Reid! There is a break in the case! Move your ass right now!" Before leaving the room, I texted (Y/N).

Me: Hoping to wrap it up tonight.

Two hours later, we have the unsub in custody, not before running into a frantic chase for L.A. streets. Now, completely wasted, we are packing our things to return home. Usually, when we wrap cases at this hour, we stay until the next morning and then take off. But everyone is so drained that Hotch called to the tarmac saying we’re flying back tonight.

Being already on the jet, I feel like writing to (Y/N), but it doesn't seem appropriate, considering it's 2 in the morning. I refrain and try to catch some sleep, knowing exactly what I want to do first when we touch down in Virginia.

---

It’s the first time I've put foot on the third floor of the Quantico Headquarters. It doesn’t look too different from the others I do know. A bunch of people walking in and out, agents perched at their desks, deep in folders or computers. Phones are ringing, and the sound of copy machines is unmistakable.

But none of that matters right now. I have a mission to accomplish.

After navigating between several desks, I find the one I’m looking for.

“Good morning, agent (Y/L/N).”

At the sound of my voice, (Y/N)’s head whips up.

“Hey! When did you come back?” she asks, seeming confused. The last time we spoke was last night before the unsub takedown, so for her, I still could be in LA.

I check my watch. “One hour and fifteen minutes ago.”

“I hope you slept on the jet.”

“I did. A bit.”

I won’t tell her how I barely closed my eyes, excited about returning to Virginia.

“So, to what do I owe the honor of having you here, Dr. Reid?”

“A crucial matter that can’t wait.”

“Is that so?”

“Uh-hu. I have an announcement and a question for you.”

“Oh yeah? Okay, shoot.”

“Morgan didn't kick down any doors during this case.”

(Y/N) snort a laugh. What a beautiful view it is to see her laugh.

“It's what I needed to start my day with the right foot.”

“You're welcome.”

“Okay, that was the announcement. And the question?”

“Yeah, about that. What do you say if we switch our failed lunch last Saturday for having dinner tonight?”

(Y/N)’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Tonight? Are you sure? You just came back.”

She’s inspecting my face, looking for certainty. I nod solemnly.

“Yeah, tonight. Unless you already have plans. If that’s the case, it’s okay. We can do something another day.”

After pondering my offer for a second, a smile creeps in (Y/N)’s face.

“You’re a lucky guy. Did you know that?”

Is it too much to say I’m feeling a lucky guy since I met her?

“I’m realizing now. Pick you up at seven, then. Is that okay?”

“Perfect. I’ll text you my full address.”

After saying our goodbyes, I take the elevator back to BAU. As the doors open at the sixth, I go face-to-face with Garcia.

“Oh, there you are! Everyone was looking for you to start the debriefing. Where were you anyways?” Penelope says, worried about my whereabouts.

Shit. I forgot Hotch wanted to do that quickly so we could finally get over this case.

“Uh. I had to use the bathroom.” I try to sound normal to avoid making a big deal.

“On another floor?” She asks, visibly confused.

Sometimes, my IQ gets lost in my odd way of doing synapses.

What the fuck I was thinking when I said that?

“Did you know the men’s bathroom paper toilet in the seventh is better quality than here?”

Oh, Spencer Reid, please stop.

“Really? I always knew they had more privileges than us. But the paper toilet? It’s infuriating,” Garcia huffs. And I know doing this is not very kind of me, but I promise to explain to her. Not now, though.

“Uh. I’m going to the conference room now. The others are waiting,” I announce, and Garcia nods, ushering me there.

“Yes. Go, go!”

Aside from the looks of 'Where the hell were you?' no one commented on me being late. Once we debrief, Hotch officially closes the case, instructing us to finish the paperwork and head home at lunchtime, which is perfect for my plans. It gives me enough time to prepare for dinner with (Y/N).

I know I look like a teenager, but I don't care.

Around three in the afternoon, I am already in my apartment and have made a restaurant reservation.

I decided to take a quick nap, although I didn't know how much sleep I would get given my nerves. It's not that being with (Y/N) makes me anxious per se; It's the anticipation of being with her.

Maybe I'm expecting too much from this date.

Shit. 'This date' Is this actually a date?

I feel like it is, but for (Y/N), will it be the same?

I invited her to dinner but never told her it was a date. Derek would tell me it is, but I don't want to assume.

Now is when Emily's words ring in my ears: 'Be honest with her to avoid false expectations.'

With her words in mind and the tiredness from the last days catching up with me, slumber finds me after a while.

---

It’s seven pm sharp, and I’m knocking on (Y/N)’s door. I can hear some rustling from inside before the doors open, revealing her frame greeting me with a smile.

“Hey! Just in time!”

“H- hi,” I say, almost breathless after taking in her appearance.

It's true that the first time I saw (Y/N), she was dressed to the nines. It's also true that when I saw her on the terrace that night, I couldn't help but think how beautiful and captivating she was.

The next time was at Quantico. She wore a classic and elegant office outfit, with black formal trousers, a white silk blouse, and a fitted maroon jacket. The image of all the confidence and resolve I bet she has at the job.

But now? My jaw shamelessly drops.

She's wearing a sleek, form-fitting black dress that accentuates her curves and black heels that elongate her legs. A beautiful cardigan wraps elegantly in her upper half. Her hair is styled in loose waves cascading over her shoulders, and she's accessorized with long silver earrings and the same necklace with the compass I saw on her the first time. She looks sophisticated, alluring, and just perfect.

“Let me get my purse, and we can go, okay?” (Y/N) says, jutting her thumb to the inside.

“Su- yeah, sure.”

Great. I’m a stuttering mess.

The drive to the restaurant is filled with light conversation. I talked about the last heatwave in Los Angeles, and she annoyed me by telling me about the rain in Virginia last week.

Now I ask (Y/N) if she has a car. It happens that she owns a car but doesn't like to drive.

“I just discovered years ago I don't like it. But I kept the car only for emergencies, which is stupid if I think of it,” she prefaces.

“Why?” I ask, stealing a glance at her.

“Because now all emergencies I can think of entail myself incapable of driving.”

Her laugh fills the car now, and I can’t help but join her.

“Okay, okay. But really, why you don’t like it?” I ask when our laughing fades. (Y/N) clears her throat.

“Uh - are you familiar with the term road rage?”

I nod, not peeling my gaze from the streets ahead.

“Yes, I do. Colloquially known as ‘angry driver disorder,’ it is aggressive or angry behavior exhibited by motorists. These behaviors include rude and verbal insults, yelling, physical threats, or dangerous driving methods targeted at other drivers, pedestrians, or cyclists to intimidate or release frustration.”

A sigh escapes (Y/N)’s lips. “Yeah. That.”

Using the chance a red light gives me, I look at her with an eyebrow furrowed.

“So, do you have RRD?”

She averts my gaze, focusing on the windshield instead.

“I thought I had it. At first, I didn’t give it any importance. I said it was just me trying to adjust to the jungle. Who hasn’t yelled as driving? But there were times when I freaked out of myself and feared doing something more than screeching or honking like crazy. So, I stopped driving for a while. I did my research and learned techniques to get it under control. But since then, I never enjoyed it again.”

A nervous giggle escapes from (Y/N)’s lips.

“Jesus, you are going to think I’m a society threat.”

I shake my head without a second thought.

“Of course, you are not. Furthermore, I find it admirable that you realized it was unhealthy and took action before living a worse experience.”

I see a blush creeping (Y/N)’s cheeks from the corner of my eye.

Not five minutes later, we are at the restaurant parking lot.

Descending from the vehicle, I hurry to (Y/N)’s door and open it for her. Once she is out of the car, I offer my arm so she can lace hers with it.

The hostess greets us at the entrance, and once he checks our reservation, he leads us to our table.

It's the first time I’m here. I chose it because Rossi once said it was perfect for a date.

Again. A date. Something I still don't know if apply here.

A waitress approaches us as soon as we sit, handing us two menus.

“Miss, sir. I’m Emma, and I’ll be at your service this evening. Can I offer something to drink?”

After Emma leaves us with our orders, (Y/N) turns to me.

“Spencer, this place is amazing.”

And she is right. The soft lighting from the small lamps creates a warm atmosphere. The decor includes cozy tables spaced apart for privacy, with comfortable seating and plush cushions. Soft and muted deep reds and browns fill the interior, with classy artwork on the walls. It's really nice.

But above all, the company makes it even better.

Our conversation flows as easily as in the car. It's so comfortable as we have known each other for a long time. And we just met less than two weeks ago.

“Okay, let me get this straight. So you are from Vegas and couldn't bear the L.A. heatwave?”

“I have lived in DC for almost eight years, so I adapted better to this climate.” I shrug and (Y/N) hums.

“You don't get to go there that much? I mean, do you have family there?”

“Just my mom. And no, I don’t see her very often,” I confess—a tint of guilt in my voice.

I see (Y/N)’s face, and I know she wants to ask, but she is respectful enough not to. Not everyone is.

“I’m an only child. And my dad left us when after my tenth birthday. With no siblings, it is only my mom and me. But even if I don't see her often, I write her letter daily.”

I look at her again, expecting the same face everyone gives me when I talk about my family, the one that screams pity. But no, if (Y/N)’s face screams anything, it’s understanding.

“Old school, uh? I’m sure your mom loves your letters,” she says, sipping her glass of wine. I nod,

telling (Y/N) more about my letters to my mom and how detailed she likes me to write them.

“And I think it helped us not to break the bond.” I shrug, taking a bit from the fork. “What about you? Did you say you are not from DC?”

“No. I’m not. I’m from Minneapolis. My parents settled there at a very young age. They were born in the South. I have two siblings: an older sister and a younger brother. My parents are still in Minneapolis, and my brother is, but he lives with his boyfriend now. My sister left for Chicago when she married her fiancee years ago.”

“Do you see them often?”

(Y/N) shakes her head.

“Not quite. Just in holidays or major events. But we call each other often. I always know what happens there, and they know what happens to me here.”

(Y/N) tells me she is not that close with her sister, though. Since she started dating his current husband, they distanced. And that only worsened when (Y/N) moved to DC.

“I’m sorry. That must have hurt.” I don’t know what having a sibling is, but I see in her eyes that she is not okay with how things turned between them.

“Yeah. But neither of us has done something about it. And here is where I need to clarify that stubbornness runs in my family,” she chuckles.

I pull a face, faking surprise. “Yeah, that’s so you can realize who you're dealing with,” she says, pointing her fork at me.

Our conversation bounces from topic to topic until we land on the school phase.

I tell her about what it's like to be a child prodigy in a public school in Las Vegas. The bad things and the not-so-bad ones, because believe it or not, I can see something positive from that time at this point in my life.

“Clearly, I didn't have it as difficult as you, but I am sure we all felt out of place at some point during that time,” she muses, cutting a piece of her dessert with the spoon.

“Did you?”

She lets out a chuckle. “Let's say I haven't been very ‘typical’ in my life, especially in high school. I mean, if following a stereotype was required, mine was quite different from the other girls my age.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “How is so?”

“Well, while my friends dreamed about having a Mr. Darcy-Elizabeth kind of love, I found Heathcliff and Kathy's relationship more appealing,” she stops from her explanation with a snort escaping her lips. “Ha! I should have known it would be a problem later.”

Why do I think other people would know what she is talking about while I don't?

Of course, she sees the confusion written all over my face.

“You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?” I pull a face, shaking my head.

“At risk of being disrespectful, uh, no. I don't.”

“Don’t worry. You don't have to, I guess. But if you read Wuthering Heights someday, you will know.”

I will—first thing in the morning.

“But the main idea is that I never expected life would be something close to a fairy tale, you know? I just didn't believe it, and my friends hated that of me.”

Jerks.

It's fair to say that we are so caught up in chatting that we don’t realize we are the only ones left in the restaurant. We do when Emma approaches to ask if we need anything.

After paying the check, we left the restaurant and headed to my car. The ride is mainly silent this time. I don’t want this night to end, and I think (Y/N) doesn't either because of how she bites her lower lip with her eyes trained on the road ahead.

We begin a light conversation for a few minutes after arriving at her building. With the car in parking, I reach her side of the vehicle to open the door for her. I offer her my hand, and she takes it, giving me a warm smile.

“I'll walk you to the door.” She nods softly, “Okay.”

The three floors to her apartment are pure agony in my head. I want to be honest with her, but I also don't want to scare her into thinking I'm a creep or whatever. If she notices my internal dilemma, she doesn't mention it. We reach her door, and (Y/N) takes her keys from her purse. I don't trust my hands and keep them in my pockets as she opens the door. She turns to face me now.

“Thank you, Spencer. I had a great time tonight.”

I see it in her eyes. She is genuine. And my heart skips a bit.

“Me too. Thanks for accepting my invitation.”

My hands feel clammy, so I take them out of my pocket and dry them discreetly on my clothes.

“Of course.”

We remain silent without taking our eyes off each other. Emily's words reverberate, and I know what I must do.

Okay. Here we go.

“Can I - can I ask you something?”

I wish I could speak without stumbling over my words.

“Sure.”

“Would you say that tonight, that is, our dinner - would you say it was a date? I mean, would you classify this as a date?”

(Y/N)’s eyes are trained on me as if trying to follow my train of thought.

“A date? Why wouldn’t I?”

She is still careful but curious about where I’m going with all of this.

“It's just that I never said it was a date when I talked about dinner.”

“So, you didn’t want it as a date?” (Y/N) asks for clarification, and I feel like the stupidest human being on earth.

“No! I did. I do. It's just - I thought you maybe thought of it like something different?”

She narrows her eyes at me. This is not working. I take a deep breath before starting over.

“The thing is, I don’t know if I’m reading this wrong. From the times we have seen each other and what we have talked about in these two weeks, I feel that there is something that feels so good between us, and I wonder if maybe you don't feel it or if you see it as something similar to a friendship. I know things in that part of your life have been messy lately, and I would understand if you wouldn't want anything to do with me, but I can't stop thinking-“

My rant is halted when I notice (Y/N)’s palm caressing my cheek. There is a glimmer in her eyes that makes my heart stop.

“Spencer. You are not reading this wrong. I feel the same way you described it as ‘right,’ even if I’m unsure what it is exactly.”

I let out a dramatic sigh I didn't know I was holding. That makes (Y/N) giggle. I join her with a chuckle myself.

As the giggle subsides, I hold her hand and place it over my chest near my heart. My other hand softly tilts her chin so I can look into her eyes.

“You are amazing; did you know that?” I whisper, and her breath hitched. I flick my gaze between her eyes and her lips. She does the same. And that's what I needed to get the courage and lean in. Slowly, the distance between us gets short, and I swear my heart is going to burst out of my chest. I can feel her breath fanning my face as her eyes flutter close.

And then, our lips met for the first time.

It's slow, and I can taste the sweetness of her lips.

I've never felt something like this kissing someone before, but now that I know what it's like, I never want to stop feeling it.

Her hands go up my shoulders, seeking a grip on the hair at the back of my neck. My hands fly to her hips to pull her closer to me as our kiss deepens. I sweep my tongue over her lower lip, and she parts them to grant me access. One of my hands leaves her hip to cup her face to get a better angle for continuing our kiss. Her arms tighten around my neck, pulling me impossibly closer.

I don’t want it to end, but the need for air is too much. After breaking the kiss, we are both panting with our faces flushed and lips swollen.

“Wow.”

“Jesus.”

We breathe out at the same time, followed by a fit of giggles.

Her laugh is definitely my new favorite sound on Earth.

I cup her cheeks and lean again to steal a quick kiss from her lips, and when I’m about to part again, she tightens her grip on my suit jacket lapels and brings me to her lips again.

After two or three more kisses, we lose the hold of our hands off each other, with a wide grin spread on our faces.

“I think we already give my neighbors enough of a show for tonight,” (Y/N) points out, biting her lower lip and peeking at both sides of the hall behind me.

“Yeah,” I mumble as I stroke her cheek, gaze focused on her eyes. “I should get going.” (Y/N) nods. “Text me when you are home?”

“I will.”

After another quick kiss, I muster the will to say goodbye. Wishing me goodnight, (Y/N) enters the apartment and closes the door. I linger there for a few seconds, excited like a child after the best day of his life.

I feel like it is.

Right now? I'm beyond grateful to Hotch for making me attend that stupid gala.

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

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

[bethelighthalazia]

"Minijoong"

Summary: A little insight of Hongjoong being a wholesome dad. 

Genre: fluff

Pairing: dad!Hongjoong x fem!reader

Word Count:  1031

Warnings: none, just wholesome fluff with Joong being a wonderful dad

networks: @newworldnet 

[note: Thank you to @itsnotmydejavu for helping me with a name and gender for Joong´s kid! And thank you to @hongthoven for giving me inspiration for some scenes <3]

© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.

“How does it feel to be left alone by your wife, only leaving your son with you?” Seonghwa asked Hongjoong, his camera pointing at the captain while he did this little ‘interview’. Your husband just rolled his eyes, looking up from his hands to give the older member a glare. “She didn't leave me behind, don't make it sound like she divorced me or something! Y/nnie is working, hyung!'' With these words, he returned to painting his nails, the old nail polish had chipped off already, but then got interrupted again, this time by his son. “Appa, I want too, please?” Ji-ho asked while climbing onto Hongjoongs lap, smiling happily and pointing at the pink nail polish. 

With you working as a stylist at KQ, assigned to the boys of ATEEZ, you never had any problems with your schedules to take care of your son together. This time however, your husband and his members had roughly three weeks off, but you were asked to help out, because one of the stylists working with Xikers got sick. This also meant that you´d have to accompany them overseas for four days. You hated the idea of leaving your boys alone, but you also loved your job. So, now you were sitting on the plane with the Xikers kids because Hongjoong had convinced you to take this opportunity. 

And that's why Hongjoong was now sitting with your son on his lap, painting the kid ́s nails in a hot pink while Seonghwa was recording everything. It was afternoon, Ji-ho had just woken up from his nap which Hongjoong made him take after lunch, and he had heard his father and his uncle talking. The boy always loved playing dress-up and both of you encouraged him to wear whatever he likes. Well, making sure it's proper clothing for his age of five years. “Now I look nice, like appa! We must take photos to send to eomma,” Ji-ho giggled, turning to look at Seonghwa, giving a wave into the camera before then turning to look at Hongjoong with his big doe eyes. You always thought he's just a mini copy of your husband, and apparently everyone else thinks so too. 

“Don´t worry, Ji-ho, we´ll take lots of pictures and send them to your eomma. But first we have to get dressed, right? Your uncle wants to take us shopping for new clothes.” Hongjoong explained and Ji-ho nodded excitedly, bouncing up and down with a giggle. His excitement was contagious and made Seonghwa laugh happily too, leaving Hongjoong to be the only adult here at this moment. With a chuckle of himself, he got up, propping his son on his hip to carry him over to the kid's room, which he regrets almost immediately, because Ji-ho has grown a lot lately. 

An hour later, the three of them were at the stores, Seonghwa currently trying on clothes that Hongjoong picked for his best friend. Ji-ho was sitting and waiting patiently while watching them, eyes wide when his dad handed Seonghwa a dress to try on. Not a very girly dress, but more elegant, something that just brings out Seonghwa's features even more. When your son saw this, he got up and waddled over to the children's clothes, taking a few pieces to bring back to the changing rooms.

“Appa! Can I try?” Ji-ho asked, lifting up the pieces of clothing he gathered and Hongjoong just nodded, slightly absent-minded. After he got his dad's permission, he slipped into the big dressing room with Seonghwa, so his uncle could help him. While Hongjoong was waiting outside of the dressing room, he sat down and checked his phone, only to look up when the door opened and Seonghwa came out of it with your son. Ji-ho had chosen some rainbow leggings and a white skirt that reminded Joong of a school uniform, and topped it with a very cute, baby blue sweater and a sparkly headband. The colors and types of clothes were very mixed together, but Hongjoong couldn't stop a proud smile from spreading on his face, what got him chuckling though, were the black cowboy like boots his son chose for the outfit.

“Aish, now both of you look ready to be models!” Your husband smiled at his best friend and your son, ignoring the weird looks some elderly people gave them because of the clothing choices. “Do you like this outfit, Ji-ho? We can buy it for you,” he said, crouching down to fix the hood of the sweater, before then looking at Seonghwa. “Let's get a lot of clothes for you two. And then we do a fashion show at home to make lots of pictures for y/n!” Your son was more than excited, he always loved to watch fashion shows on TV, he even copied Hongjoong sometimes when he worked on his own clothes sometimes. 

Almost an hour and a half later, your husband and Seonghwa were loaded with bags filled with different outfits, Ji-ho happily leading them back home into the apartment, which is also located in the dorms building of the Ateez boys. During the little fashion show, even Mingi joined the trio, he loved to spend time with his nephew anytime he could, and soon the pictures were flooding in your inbox, making you smile and giggle. Hunter and Yechan were sitting next to you, seeing the photos as well and laughing at some of the outtakes Seonghwa sent you; one of the last pictures showing Hongjoong and Ji-ho laying on a pile of clothes, both had fallen asleep along the way as it seemed. 

You didn't know how you ended up married to the most wonderful man on earth and had such a precious son with him, but you wouldn't want it to be different. Even though you missed them a lot, seeing the photos and knowing that you could facetime your boys at any time made you feel happy and calm. After all, you were heavily worried how Hongjoong would manage to have Ji-ho around him for four days, but he seemed to be doing just fine with the help of his hyung and the younger members.

taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson, @hotteokkay, @minkilicious, @bunnliix,

@gong-fourz, @yeosangiess, @jayshoneybee, @dinossaurz, @scuzmunkie, @h3arteyes4mingi

(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)

[dokries]

love at first bite

pairing: kim mingyu x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1.4k (including bonus)

warnings: mentions of food, just very embarrassing for reader.

author note: this is a repost, so if you’ve seen it before, you probably have. i hope you enjoy :D

you should’ve taken up your classmate’s offer. 

you were packing up after your shared history class earlier when chan had suggested that you get lunch with him before eventually going your separate ways to study. 

he had sat two seats away from you when the semester had started, and when he asked you for notes after a particularly confusing class, it took only two more until he had shifted to sit next to you, becoming your Thinkers and Thugs: Ancient Greeks and Romans buddy (yes, that was the actual name of the class; it turned out that you both had thought it would be a fun class when selecting it, but in reality it was just discussing what old man in history was worse).

you felt a little guilty rejecting him when his face fell, but you had a date with yourself already planned: you would stop by the cafe to get your favourite drink—and a cake slice on-the-house, thanks to your best friend’s new job there (thank you joshua!)—before heading to the library to study your butt off for your approaching midterms.

however, your seemingly perfect plans were interrupted by a sign on the door of the pledis university cafe, saying that it was closed temporarily due to construction—joshua had complained about how the sink had been broken by one of his coworkers the other day, so it made sense. it was alright though; your plans could still be salvaged, and you grabbed a can of coffee from the vending machine in the lobby of the library instead. after finishing half of the beverage in one go (what? talking about roman thugs takes a lot out of a person), you had made your way to your favourite spot, at the very end of the row of cozy study tables. 

your productivity lasts for a solid 2 hours, planning out what to go over before your exams and when—you are not going to be unprepared for them like last semester, when midterms had been more hellish than usual, as you hadn’t planned anything out. taking a quick look at the clock on your laptop tells you that it’s 4:30 pm already, the time you had decided earlier to head home…but you were so close to finishing a section for your history class that you decide to keep on typing. 

around 15 minutes later, you hear your stomach growl quietly. you had been so caught up in studying that you had completely forgotten to eat something—your body was surviving only on the tasteless can of coffee from earlier, and the small breakfast you had eaten this morning. 

remembering that you had a bottle of water from the long walk joshua had forced you on by the beach yesterday—“it’ll be fun!” he had said. spoiler alert: it was not, as your favourite jacket had gotten dirty with all the sand, and how you both had become sweaty messes by the end with hair all over the place, thanks to the ocean breeze.

you take it out and chug the remaining water down, praying that it’ll stop your stomach from being noisy in the still library; you’re almost done with the last section you needed to cover for another class, and then you could be free to grab some food before heading back to the pledis uni dorms. 

somehow, the powers above decide that the lack of cake slices provided by joshua wasn’t enough suffering, and your stomach growls loudly. your hands quickly make their way to press down on your abdomen (like it would even make a difference) and thankfully, there aren't many people around to see the flush creep up your face. it takes a few deep breaths in and out for you to feel comfortable enough to go back to your work. 

you manage to type out five words.

just five words before your stomach growls again louder and by this point, you’re probably as red as the fire trucks stationed at the fire hall you pass by to get to the dorms. unable to stop yourself, you slump down against the library work table, your head finding its way onto your laptop—which you closed beforehand. 

you have no more water, and you had finished that stupid can of coffee ages ago. your thoughts circle back to the cafe. if only it had been open…you wouldn’t have been in this situation. you let out a soft sigh at the missed opportunity of cake. 

the sound of plastic crinkling against the solid wood of your desk pokes through your hunger induced daze of cake, and you look to the side, eyes straining to see a single granola bar right above your left ear. what the—did the powers above decide to help you for once? 

a quick look behind the snack told you no; it was just the guy sitting at the table beside you. 

wait. there was a guy sitting beside you this entire time? holy sh— you frantically think, face immediately flushing again.

your neighbour doesn’t seem to notice you staring, his eyes now focused on the review booklet he was going over. huh, it looks strangely similar to the one you were poring over yesterday while studying for your Introduction to Linguistics class.

he seems vaguely familiar, but you can’t quite pinpoint why. 

he suddenly turns his attention on you, his warm eyes focusing on yours and the corners of his lips turning up before he softly calls your name. “you should take a bite before your stomach growls again, it was pretty loud.” 

you sit up, straightening your posture before tilting your head. “do i know you?” 

he laughs quietly, and you find yourself lost in the way his giggles carry over to your ears quietly like music. he picks the granola bar and places it lightly in your hand, gesturing for you to open it first. 

as you slowly peel apart the plastic covering and take a small bite, he grins. “i’m mingyu! i uh, i’m in your intro to linguistics class actually. you probably recognize me from there.” 

his words make perfect sense once you process them, and you finally remember that he’s the tall guy who sits behind you in class.

“i borrowed a pencil from you once actually,” his soft smile turns into a sheepish grin and he slumps like a scolded puppy, preparing for the worst. “i never gave it back because…i uh…i broke your pencil by accident.” 

you blink, put down the empty granola bar wrapper and burst into laughter. this guy before you, who’s definitely much stronger judging by the muscles barely hidden by his red sweatshirt, was scared of you? now that was something to laugh about.

“don’t worry about it,” you say, still giggling. “you can pay me back by…” your eyes light up. “by paying for a meal right now!” 

his eyes widen before he smiles again, and you can practically see his puppy ears perk up. “really? we can go to the pho place across the street then! it’s been a while since i went, anyway.”

you nod before grinning at his excitement, and he jumps up and starts walking towards the entrance of the library. 

confused, you call out to him. “mingyu, you silly goose! you forgot your stuff!” 

“oh right…i forgot i needed that.”

bonus!

(a/n: hater #1 is seungkwan, hater #2 is jeonghan, bononie is vernon)

mingyu: 

oh my god i feel so bad for them 😭

their stomach keeps grumbling…did they not eat…

bononie:

yikes 

ur down bad

mingyu:

WHAT DID I EVEN DO? 

all i said was that i feel bad…

bononie:

exactly lmao

hater #1:

mingyu you loser just talk to them

they’re literally right beside you.

mingyu:

THEY LOOK EMBARRASSED ENOUGH

I'M NOT GONNA DISTURB THEM

hater #2:

literally just talk to them i’m with seungkwan on this

bononie:

mingyu if u dont talk to them now u never will

do u want to end up single forever or smth

hater #1:

me and jeonghan would win the bet then… 

nvm mingyu don’t do anything!

mingyu: 

YOU BET ON ME BEING SINGLE?

do you have no trust in my amazingness

hater #1:

shut up mingyu

hater #2:

shut up mingyu 

mingyu:

geez i can’t catch a break can i

bononie:

anyway…

u said they were hungry right 

literally just give them a granola bar i know u have tons of those in ur bag

mingyu:

oh wait that’s actually a good idea

i’m doing that 

wish me luck guys!

hater #1:

no 

i need money from chan

don’t even try to approach them.

omg i’d get two birds with one stone!

[poppy-in-the-woods]

My Ride or Die - Part 2

Plot: Noah is your husband. Five years ago, he killed a man that was attacking you. The judge ruled that, since he shot him several times after he already had been stabbed by you, it was no longer self-defense. He got twenty years, and that was two and a half years ago. After the conjugal visit for his birthday, you visit him, bringing food and other presents to help him keep warm on cold nights.

Pairing: Noah x Female Reader

Word Count: 2601

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Tags: fluff, bit of angst, convict!Noah, masturbation, mentions of suggestive pictures.

Author’s note: betaed by the amazing @rottingfern. Sorry for the long wait, but you know, life gets in the way of writing sometimes, and I wanted to polish this one as much as I could. Let me know how I did, and hope you enjoy.

It had been exactly a week since you last saw Noah. You definitely needed a bit more recovery before thinking about having wild sex again, the ache between your legs still dully moaning, but you two were happy to see each other nonetheless.

The room was busy with spouses and kids that came to visit other inmates. Noah sat alone as he waited for you, but he quickly rose up when he saw you approaching. You greeted him with a quick hug and a peck on the lips and sat in front of him, putting the bag you were carrying on the bench beside you.

“How are you, my love?” you asked.

“Not bad. Better than most days now that you are here,” he said.

“I brought you some presents,” you said, taking the items out of the bag. “Here’s your sandwich,” you began, pushing it to him. He unwrapped it with an excited smile and began scarfing it down. “Slow down, honey, or it’s gonna hurt your stomach,” you told him.

“Sorry,��� he said, chewing slower.

“I also brought you some extra underwear and socks,” you continued, putting the paper bag on the table.

“Nice!”

“The shampoo and deodorant you like…” you listed, taking them out of the bag too and placing them beside the underwear, “and a belated birthday present!” you announced, handing him the wrapped package.

“They let you bring that without opening it first?” he asked, skeptical.

“I told them it was a present, so they did me a favor” you told him, shrugging it off like it was nothing. You knew the schedule of the guard who had a soft spot for you and you fully took advantage of that, though you’d never tell that to Noah. “They ran it through the X-ray machine, with the rest of the stuff,” you assured him.

“No metal file or spoon hidden, then,” he joked.

“No, sorry,” you replied, chuckling as he finished unwrapping the book: it was a hardback copy of High Magick (A Guide to The Spiritual Practices That Saved My Life on Death Row), by Damien Echols. “Don’t take off the plastic just yet,” you whispered. He nodded. “I am sure you will find it a very interesting reading,” you added, in a normal tone.

“Thank you, baby,” he said, taking your hands and quickly kissing your knuckles.

You smiled at him and he smiled back at you, letting go of your hands before the guard could decide that it was too much physical contact and end the visit early.

“How’s it going with that newbie? Did he bother you again?” you asked, trying to make some small talk.

“Nah. It’s all good now, he learned his place,” he replied, finishing the sandwich. He let you clean his mouth with the paper napkin.

“Good.”

“I received your letter yesterday, by the way” he told you.

“They took their sweet time reading it, didn’t they?” you fumed.

“I’m sure the warden loves your prose, and the poems. I certainly do,” he said. “I especially loved the lines that said ‘My heart is a bird/ that every night takes flight/ to you and guards your sleep’, and ‘I dream of your hands around my waist, / your breath on my neck, / your heat inside mine, / and our hearts beating in sync’”.

“I wasn’t too inspired with the rhymes in that last one,” you said, grimacing.

As much as you didn’t feel any embarrassment for the words you wrote to Noah, you didn’t want them repeated to you. Creative writing was an outlet your therapist recommended, as were the dabbles in poetry, but you didn’t fancy yourself a poet. Noah was the poet and the musician, not you.

“By the way, do you need another notebook?” you asked.

You had given him a pretty notebook when he entered prison so he could annotate whatever he wanted, and you knew he had been using it as a sort of journal and to write his lyrics and compose his music. A month before the anniversary of his first year locked up, he had requested a new one. You had bought one with more pages that time. He was on notebook number three now.

“No, I still haven’t filled the last one. I will tell you when I need a new one, but thanks for asking,” he said, smiling. “How are you, baby? How are things at work?”

“I’m fine. Before I forget, I have a new manager now, a lady in her fifties - the old one was fired because Shelly reported him to HR for attempted grooming,” you explained. Shelly was your only underage coworker, a sixteen-year-old girl who was still in high-school. “Anyway, the new one is very nice, and upon learning about you, she told me she has a son in prison.”

“In here?” he asked.

“No, he’s in another facility. He committed tax evasion and had a money laundering scheme going on. He got mixed with the wrong crowd, apparently,” you informed him. “They don’t see each other that much, but she writes him letters every week. She told the whole team that my visitation days are sacred and that if anyone needs a change of schedule, to try anyone else, because I am not available,” you finished smiling.

“I already like her,” he said, containing a laugh.

“She also said you were very handsome ‘despite all that ink’”, you told him, marking the quotations in the air. “She’s kind of old-fashioned regarding tattoos.”

“Tell her I said thank you for the compliment,” he replied. “And that I don’t take offense to her not liking my tattoos.”

“Will do!”

“I have something for you,” he said, taking a square envelope from under his ass. “I recorded it with the boys. I want you to be the first to listen to it,” he said, as you took the CD out of the envelope. You smiled, looking at the title and all the signatures.

“I feel honored, honestly,” you said, immediately putting it in your purse. “I’ll listen to it tonight, though it might take me a while to write an in-depth review.”

“Don’t worry about that, we can wait. The boys send their regards, by the way,” he said.

“Tell them I said hi back. I’m so happy you made friends here! And Nick… well, I am not happy that he is in prison too, but… at least you already had a friend the day you arrived, you know?” you said.

“I was relieved to see a familiar face the first day, I’m not gonna lie,” Noah admitted.

“By the way, I spoke with the lawyer…” you began.

“No,” he snapped, cutting you off.

“But I would just spend two years, and your sentence would be reduced -” you began.

He grabbed your wrists.

“Look at me: we already talked about this, and I won’t let you spend a single day behind bars. I fired the gun, I take the blame,” he said, holding your gaze intently.

“But…” you tried to argue. While you recognized and were grateful for his sacrifice, you didn’t want him to spend so much time behind bars. You thought you were strong enough to endure two years if that meant he got to be free earlier. Why wouldn’t he let you do that for him? You loved him just as he loved you; why shouldn’t you sacrifice in return?

“No buts,” he said, putting a finger over your lips. “I heard what the guards do to the female inmates in prison and I won’t let you go through that to shave five years off my sentence,” he said, finally releasing your hands. “End of discussion.”

 “Okay. I love you so much, Noah!” you said after a pause, on the verge of tears.

 “I love you too, baby. Now, don’t cry! You know I hate to see that here,” he said, and you knew he was right: the crying was best reserved for when no one could see, because any sign of weakness on your part could reflect badly on him. You took a deep breath and smiled at him. “That’s better. Do you have an appointment with your therapist this week?”

“Yeah, this afternoon,” you nodded. You had taken notes to talk to your therapist about his response to your proposal, whatever his response would be, though you didn’t expect him to agree, honestly.

“Good. Tell her I enjoyed the books she recommended.”

“That one is also a recommendation from her,” you said, lightly tapping the Damien Echols book. “The extra material is all my idea, though,” you whispered. He arched an eyebrow, questioningly. “You’ll see.”

Not long after, you had to end the visit. With another quick hug and light peck on the lips, you said goodbye to him. On the way back home, you put the CD in the player of your car and listened to it. The lyrics were so beautiful and his voice sounded so clear, like he was beside you, that you had to pull over to the side of the road for a couple of minutes while you let the tears finally flow.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” a voice asked. You lifted your gaze to find a police officer standing by the side of your car. You rolled down the window and stopped the music. “Are you injured?”

“No, sir, I am fine. I just got emotional and… I needed a moment.”

“I see. What was that band, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh! That was Bad Omens; it’s my husband’s band. They’re on Spotify, I think.”

“They sound good, I’ll give them a listen. If you are better now, I suggest you go on your way,” he said.

“Yes, sir. Thank you for your concern.”

Every lawyer you ever spoke to always told you the same thing: if you’re ever stopped by a police officer, be polite and don’t let them know you have a spouse in prison, because they will look at you differently and there’s a chance they won’t be nice to you upon learning that fact.

You continued your way and arrived home in time to prepare a meal for yourself, feed the cat and go to your therapist appointment.

Meanwhile, Noah was in his cell, unwrapping the book from its plastic. He noticed an envelope taped to the back cover. He opened it to find several pictures. Eight of them were of you, recreating some pin-up posters; hot, but nothing that could be considered pornographic. The ninth, tenth and eleventh were more risqué, something that could be classified as artistic nudes, but the twelfth…

He took the picture number 12 in his hands, looking at it closely. It was a close up of your nude chest, focusing on the tattoo over your sternum. Your nipples were not in frame, but he knew your breasts far too well, so he was able to complete that image mentally.

He carefully picked up the other photographs and put them back in the envelope. He then taped this one to the metal frame of the bunk bed above him and slid a hand in his pants. His mind was already racing, conjuring the image of you naked beside him, kissing him and touching him with light fingers.

“This one’s for you, baby” he muttered, stroking his cock.

Not shortly after he was finished, Nick leaned into the cell.

“Dude, what are you doing? We’re waiting for you in the music room!” he said.

“What?”

“Did you forget we scheduled a rehearsal for today?” Nick asked, entering the cell.

“Yeah, sorry…”

“Were you reading?” Nick asked, seeing the book next to Noah. “Is it any good?” he wanted to know, picking it up.

“Give it back!”

But it was too late: Nick had already seen the envelope and was inspecting its content.

“Oh, I see! You weren’t reading, you were jerking off in her honor” he laughed. “To be fair, I also do it in her honor sometimes,” he joked.

“Not funny, bro! Not funny.” Noah replied, snatching the book from him. “It’s my wife you’re talking about.”

“Sorry. Is something wrong between you two?” Nick asked, suddenly serious.

“No. She tried to bring up the appeal, thinks she should take part of the blame,” he said. “I told her she can forget about it, and I hope this time she listens. I understand where she comes from, but I love her far too much to let her do it.”

“And she loves you far too much not to try to convince you,” Nick pointed out.

“I guess so…”

“She does. I mean, she risked flirting with the guy at the entrance to bring you this, didn’t she?” Nick said, pointing at the book.

“What do you mean?”

“Rumor says that if you don’t want something to be too closely inspected, you compliment the guard at the entrance. Works like a charm if you’re a pretty woman, or at least that’s what my cousin said,” Nick told him. “Those pictures? They would probably be considered porn and confiscated. She’s a criminal mastermind, dude.”

“Yeah, sure,” Noah said, amused, but his laughter quickly died on his lips, as the implications of what Nick just told him sank in: you had taken too many risks for him and his pleasure, more than he was comfortable with. He sighed; his beautiful, smart and reckless wife! What was he going to do with you? “You will get out before me. Would you keep an eye on her for me?”

“Sure, dude. She’s my friend too, you know?”

Noah knew you also corresponded with Nick and talked to him on the phone. Past benders aside, you two were close enough for Nick to call you a friend. Knowing his friend, Nick was likely the one to suggest the fiery red lingerie to her as a birthday surprise, and if his suspicion was correct, Noah was very grateful to him.

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me yet. We’re still both in this shithole, so maybe we could go to the music room now and rehearse?”

“Sure.”

That Saturday, while you were watching a movie, your phone rang. It was a collect call from jail, which you quickly accepted.

“Hey, baby!” Noah’s voice greeted you through the line.

“Hi! How are you? Is everything okay?” you asked, straightening yourself up on the couch. He didn’t seem distraught, but he was in jail after all, you could never be sure.

“Everything is as okay as it can be. I just wanted to hear your voice,” he said. “Oh, I have begun with your present. You were right, it’s a very interesting reading.”

“Did you enjoy the extras?” you asked.

“Oh, yeah! Thank you, baby.”

“By the way, I almost finished analyzing the record,” you told him. “I have the last two songs left and the conclusions, and I will have a full review, song by song.”

“You know you don’t have to do that, right?” he said.

“I know, but I like doing it, and I like to think that my reviews are useful for you guys, you know? To have a listener’s perspective,” you replied.

“Of course they are useful!” he assured you. “I just say it’s not an obligation,” he clarified.

“I know, and it doesn’t feel like it,” you swore.

“Okay. I need to go now, but I love you. Sweet dreams, baby,” he said.

“Sweet dreams, my love! I love you too,” you replied, and he hung up.

The next conjugal visit couldn’t come fast enough.