#whoever saw it earlier just forget it sobs

[soap-ify]

nsfw , minors dni .

okay but what if poly!141 with owner!price and hybrid pets!reader, ghost, gaz and soap

price adored his taskforce a lot. operating alongside powerful and trained dog hybrids was surely an experience, especially when he himself was just a human and the others treated him as if he was their owner. he started having a thing for it too, especially since ghost, gaz and soap were just so ruthless in the battlefield but with him? they were just some pups needy for his attention!

price thought that he didn't need anyone else other than his three beloveds, but that all changed when you came along.

you were recommended into the team by laswell herself — your reports are nothing short of outstanding and guess what? you also happened to be a hybrid. you were a great fit for the team.

you felt confused and anxious when you first met the whole team. price was more than welcoming, stern yet warm in his greeting as he introduced you to the others and went over the expectations. you were somewhat relieved to find hybrids like you — especially ones that were trained in similar harsh environments in order to be perfect for the military. humans seemed to either despise or fear hybrids — but price wasn't like them.

it didn't take you long to finally be aware of the dynamic they all had.

soap was the first one to be all comfortable and touchy with you amongst the other two hybrids. he was energetic and a menace, wagging his tail while he had trapped you beneath him, your gaze all confused and shy. "ye are such a sweet wee pup." he cooed, smothering your face up with kisses while simultaneously grinding his hips with yours. it wasn't long until you had started to hump against him too, feeling just so horny and warm, puppy ears twitching happily.

gaz had caught you and soap grinding against one another like some damn dogs in heat — which you guys technically were. he was all pouty and moody about the fact that you two were having all the fun without him. how cruel! he was quick to pounce onto the bed, grabbing your face and pulling you into a sweet kiss, eager to taste the adorable new pup in their team. he was more gentle than soap, but playful in his own way too, nipping on your sensitive puppy ears to watch your eyes glisten up with unshed tears while you were lost in this blissful tangled mess you were trapped in.

the night had ended with both of them rutting into you — gaz laying on his bed with you on top of his, his chest pressed against your back while his cock was nicely stretching your tight ass whereas soap was on top of you both, his cock ramming into your soaking cunt so desperately while his hands pawed at your tits through your shirt, both of the pups already so lovestruck by you, their cum dripping out of your holes.

ghost had always kept his distance from you ever since you had joined the taskforce about two months ago. you had started thinking that maybe he loathed you or something, but that all changed when you had sheepishly made your way to him in the middle of the night, visibly shaken up from an awful nightmare you had, your cheeks streaked with tears. you didn't even know why you had come to him out of the other two hybrids or even price. maybe because your room was the nearest to his. ghost would have initially kicked you out, but seeing this new pup so vulnerable pulled at the strings of his heart.

he had scooped you up in his big, strong arms and let your face nuzzle into his firm chest while you laid on top of him, soft sobs leaving your lips while you vented on and on about how the nightmares never stopped ever since you were initially rescued from the place where they tortured and trained the hybrids. a damaged pup just like him, he thought while his large hand gently rubbed the back of your head. your cries had slowly died down into soft sniffles, those teary eyes of yours gazing at his face so fondly — unmasked and fully bare for you. it was the first time he didn't bother putting a mask around you after all.

he had let you stay in his room for the night, his sweatpants lazily tugged down as his cock dragged in and out of your sweet tight cunt, his thumb playing with your clit to make you forget about all your troubles, your head nuzzled into the crook of his neck. he didn’t bother pulling out even when you had fallen asleep, relishing in the way your warm wet walls were wrapped around his shaft, unconsciously clenching.

price had waited until you were nice and comfortable with all his pups. of course he knew about the naughty little things you had been doing with the other three. and even though he had wanted it to happen, he didn’t let the opportunity of teasing you pass away.

he had you splayed on his lap, your mouth clumsily sucking on his cock while his large callused hand delivered firm slaps on the soft flesh of your ass, the sting causing your tail to flinch and straighten up while you whimpered around his cock, sobbing. “tsk, such a bad pet. getting stuffed with my pups’ cocks without me knowing?” he would huff some smoke out after taking another hit from his cigar.

he wasn’t a big meanie though! he kept caressing all the slap marks on your ass after he was done spanking you, his other hand giving you the head pats that you craved so badly from your owner, his cock still stuffed in your pretty mouth.

“be a good girl f’me, hm?”

you eagerly nodded, his hand pulling your head up from his cock to give you a kiss.

sometimes, price would let you all have fun together with him. you and soap would messily be sucking on his thick cock while gaz would be clumsily rubbing his angrily flushed cock on price's hand, pleading to cum since price had been edging him for hours. ghost on the other hand was given permission to fuck you since he was price's good lieutenant — always quick to finish tasks. so while you were on your knees sucking price's cock, ghost was already behind you, working your sweet cunt open with his fingers so he could fuck you later, soap whining besides you since he also wants to be fucked by his lt!

they all were smitten for you, and it was only a matter of fact until you'd fall in love with them too — unless you already were.

[cutiejihyo]

little!jenlisa where lisa’s feeling sad because she lost her favorite plushie so jennie surprises her with a blanket fort and they look for lisa’s plushie together

- 🪷

pillow fort

— little!lisa & little!jennie

— cw// crying

words - 512

when lisa was regressed, she would often lose her favorite stuffed animal, a brown stuffed bear that was gifted to her by jennie. the bear would go almost everywhere with her, especially when she was little. sometimes, she would leave it in random places and forget about it, causing a scene for whoever was taking care of her that day.

even if she didn’t have a carer, the regressed girl would still whine for her beloved bear, tearing up her apartment to look for it.

—

blackpink had been on tour for a few months now and they had gone back to korea for a break. since there was a few free days in the girls’ schedule, jennie decided to spend them with lisa over at her apartment.

both girls ended up regressing early in the morning, with nobody to look after them, they only had each other to rely on. luckily, they were both barely old enough to take care of basic needs for themselves.

sometime in the afternoon, jennie heard small whimpers from lisa’s bedroom. she made her way to the room, curiously peeking in to see what was bothering the other girl.

the first thing she noticed was that the room was a complete mess, the opposite of how it was just hours earlier.

“lili?” jennie stood in the doorway, looking confused. she didn’t have a clue as to why lisa could’ve made the room so messy. “c-can’t find it..” the younger girl hiccuped, still making a mess of the bedroom.

jennie walked in further, noticing lisa was crying. the regressed girl wasn’t sure what to do, but she wanted to help. “can’t find wha lili?”

“m’ bear gone!” she sobbed more, falling onto the ground out of frustration. the other little thought for a second before running out of the room, “i help, wait here!” jennie yelped.

she ended up getting all the pillows and blankets she could find along with a few chairs. with that, she set up the best pillow fort a 4 year old could make. sure it was falling apart, but it was good enough.

jennie ran back, finding that lisa was still crying. “i have a su’prise, follow m’ lili.” she grabbed her arm, pulling her into the living room.

lisa’s sobs stopped as soon as she saw the creation. she slid onto the floor, making herself comfortable in the fort. “and i help you find bear, c’mon.”

—

the two girls searched around the apartment, with no luck of finding the plush. once they thought they had given up, there was a small squeal from lisa. jennie found herself in the kitchen after following the noise, where lisa was hugging her bear friend tightly, vowing to never lose him again.

the day ended with the two girls cuddling in the fort, watching cartoons and eating many snacks. lisa clutched onto her bear the entire time, making sure to never leave him out of her sight. jennie on the other hand was very proud of herself for being able to make her friend happy again.

[tinyhousegirl]

Grief

Grief by @allyxstebo

Synopsis: Grief hit them all in different ways. They knew Carole was hurting, Maverick was spiraling. But nobody talked about Ice's quiet plummet into the darkness.

A/N: A short 1.7k drabble about Ice grieving Goose's death. Ice x Mav platonic, mentions of Carole, Bradley, Sarah. Like what you're reading? Buy me a brick!

TW: Major Character Death, mentions of blood, grief

---

Goose’s death rocked the world. He left behind a loving wife and a young son. He was just weeks away from graduating from the most prestigious Naval program with his best friend. The aviator would have had his choice of assignment, and had told Maverick he wanted to be closer to Virginia Beach where Carole and Bradley lived. Maverick would have followed him to the end of the world. But then the accident happened, ending his vibrant life abruptly.

Grief hit them all in different ways.

Carole clung to Bradley; the blond boy looked more and more like his father everyday. She made sure their photos of Goose were placed in such ways that Bradley could see them at his short toddler height throughout their home. The flag from the funeral was hung proudly over the mantle. She suppressed tears every time she saw it, but would never ever take it down. She fell asleep most nights clutching his dog tags.

Maverick flew a lot. He started flying as a solo pilot soon after he washed out of the Top Gun instructor program. He found it easier on his conscience to fly when he didn’t have a backseatter to worry about bringing home safely. 

Every day the grief became a little easier. Until one night.

Carole called him sobbing about three months after Goose’s death. Bradley had asked ‘who’s that?’ at a picture of Goose and Carole on their wedding day, when he had shaved the iconic mustache, and her heart broke. She didn’t want her baby to forget his father. Maverick had never dropped what he was doing so fast to make it across the country to be with them. 

He brought toy planes and photos of their time in the Navy to show to Bradley, and told the little boy about all of their escapades, PG and toned down, of course. Bradley fell asleep cuddling one of the planes, and Maverick held Carole on the couch as they both mourned their loss all over again. 

Every day the grief became a little easier. Until one night. 

Maverick was laying on the couch in the tiny one bedroom house he bought in San Diego. After a long day of flying, he didn’t have it in him to meet friends at the bar. Instead he dozed off while combing through a book on how to fix up a P-51 Mustang, the beautiful plane he was looking to purchase with his next Navy bonus. 

The dark haired aviator was so close to sleep when a heavy pound on the front door echoed in the quiet house. He peered at his watch - almost three in the morning. It was a hot Saturday night, he was sure it was some group of ding dong ditchers making their rounds through his neighborhood again. But the pounding continued.

He begrudgingly stood up and walked to the door, ready to scold whoever decided to disturb a Naval aviator on his weekend. What he didn’t expect to see was Ice, hair tousled, clothes a mess, and barely able to stand on his own two feet on the porch. His eyes were bloodshot and dilated, and Pete could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Ice? What the hell are you doing here, man?” The blond pilot stumbled forward slightly, Maverick’s quick reflexes being the only thing to stop Ice’s face and the doorframe from making out. “Woah, man. You good?”

“I killed him, Mav.” The voice was quiet yet hardened. 

Pete’s eyebrows knit in confusion at the odd confession from his friend. “What the hell are you talking about? Did you fight somebody at the bar?” He had just seen Ice earlier in the day; they had flown most of their training simulations together. He couldn’t have possibly gotten in this much trouble since then?

The taller pilot’s whole body was shaking against Maverick’s steady arms. The breath coming out was even shakier as the pilot shook his head. “No, no, no. I-I killed him. It’s all my fault. I killed him.” 

Maverick let out an exasperated sigh. “Ice, you’re making no sense. Who did you kill?”

“Goose.”

Pete’s stomach dropped, the grief flooding his entire system with adrenaline. It was slowly getting easier to breathe day by day, but when the waves of grief came around, it just as easily crushed him under the weight of guilt that loomed in his shadow since July 29th. No amount of Naval documents proving he wasn’t at fault could convince him that Goose didn’t die because of his recklessness. He could never blink away the view of Goose’s lifeless body being pulled up to the helicopter. Couldn’t wash his hand raw enough to get the feeling of his blood off his hands. Couldn’t stop hearing the twenty one gun salute in the quiet of the night, ringing and ringing with the pounding of his chest when the nightmares would come in full force. 

Maverick opted not to respond, instead hooking his shoulder under Ice’s arm. He led the stumbling pilot inside to the couch, collecting his clutter of manuals and books onto the coffee table. The dark haired aviator grabbed a glass, filling it with water from the tap. Ice took the cup quietly, chugging it without a thought. The energy in the air wasn’t enough to sober him, and Mav could see the gears still turning slowly in his friend’s eyes. 

Mav leaned in, bumping shoulders with him gently. “Talk to me, Ice.”

“It was my fault.” Ice’s voice was barely a whisper, lost to the winds of the ocean air against the siding of the house. “I should have pulled away earlier, given you the shot. I killed him.”

“Ice, you read the reports. You didn’t kill him.” Maverick’s voice came out thick and slow. He tried to suppress the forming lump at the back of his throat, the tunnel vision forming around his head, the burning of his fingertips.

“To hell with what the Navy thinks. It was my jet wash. My mistake.”

Maverick could tell this was eating him up. In the few months that they had been training together, Ice became his closest friend, his confidante. You learned to not have any boundaries in the military. These men became your brothers, thicker than blood, and you’d do anything for them. Goose was his brother. Ice was, too.

“Why is this just now coming up? You went through this shit with me, why wouldn’t you say anything?” It’d been almost a year since the accident. God, a whole year. Ice had stood by Maverick’s side through the worst of it. He had convinced the stubborn aviator to at least try talking to a grief counselor, or a therapist, or the goddamn VA. Someone that could understand why Pete would wake up screaming in the barracks some nights. He went to a few sessions, but it didn’t compare to how therapeutic the skies became for him. Ice had caught him a few times having full conversations with Goose, as if the man was still in his backseat. His head was just so much clearer at 30,000 feet. “Ice-”

“Sarah’s pregnant.” A single tear ran down his cheek, prompting him to wipe it away immediately. “She told me last night.”

“Hey, that’s amazing news. You’ve been trying for a while now, you’re gonna be a dad!” Mav smiled, jabbing his elbow into his friend’s side lightheartedly, trying to get him to smile for the first time all night. 

“I orphaned a kid, Maverick.” The admission barely escaped his lips as the sob that followed took over. “I killed his father and I’m just supposed to carry on with my life and be present in my own kid’s life knowing what I did to Bradley? He’s too young. He won’t even remember him.”

“Tom, look at me.” Maverick ordered sternly. The use of his actual name got his attention. “Don’t go down this hole. Please. It doesn’t bring him back, but it’ll take you down with it. Don’t do that to Sarah, to your baby. Bradley will be okay. He’s still got us.”

Don’t do this to me, Maverick didn’t say, but the begging tone in his voice communicated it nonetheless. They’d both seen how grief could consume a man, tear him to shreds until nothing was left but an empty body. Some days getting out of bed was the hardest damn thing to do. Carole and Bradley had stayed in California for a few weeks with Maverick to grieve together, but they eventually flew home to Virginia and Maverick finally allowed himself to crash. He didn’t remember most of his one-month leave between the Enterprise mission and his first day as instructor. Ice couldn’t find him for a week, considered filing a missing persons report, and thought the worst. Until Maverick showed up at his door in a similar manner to the way Ice had tonight. It was the first time Sarah had officially met the man, and the Kazanskys took in the pilot without hesitation. They’d truly been his guardian angels.

It was Ice’s turn to bump his shoulder. “Hey, I know that look. I promise.” Maverick nodded, meeting Ice’s eyes finally. The bloodshot was fading, and only showed his determination behind his words. “I love you, Mav.” 

“I love ya too, Ice. I’m glad you came to me.”

The blond pilot suppressed the sniffle in his voice as he finally let a smile slip through the sadness. He couldn’t help but chuckle, the drastic realization of his life changing finally sobering him. “God, Mav, I’m gonna be a dad. How the hell am I supposed to raise a baby?!”

The aviators both laughed, talking nonsense way into the sunrise when Ice finally said his goodbyes to catch a few hours of sleep with his expecting wife. Maverick would wait a few hours before calling Carole, wanting nothing more than the four year old voice of his nephew to calm his soul. Maybe he’d tell Bradley about the MiG today.

Maybe the grief didn’t always get easier. But today he wouldn’t let himself fall back in that hole.

---

[moonlight-prose]

Hey! I’m excited for some more sleepover fics!

Can I get “whoa... hey, now, who made you cry? where'd they go?” with Bucky Barnes?

𝐀 𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞

𝐀/𝐍 || Hello darling!!! Happy Saturday. Okay so it's a little shorter, but I hope you enjoy it! (gif has nothing to do with the drabble, but i couldn't resist)

Not tagging anyone cause it's a drabble.

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || Someone hurts you...a bad move when Bucky Barnes is your lover.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 971

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 || Bucky Barnes x Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || minor cussing, a single punch, mentions of blood, fluff

Willing the words away you continued to curl up on the couch, ignoring the liveliness of the party. A party that you didn’t even want to attend. One that had you uncomfortably shifting past groups of people; the only thought on your mind was wanting to go home. Curling under the covers and forgetting that this whole thing happened.

Except you couldn’t get rid of the way the words sliced through your skin. A joke about the clothes you wore of all things. One that had you trying to find an exit in order to shed your tears in private rather than in front of everyone. And that’s where you found yourself. On the couch outside, nursing a glass of champagne and waiting until the clock struck midnight and you could finally be released from your own personal hell.

The door swung open behind you; the roar of music louder now that the glass barrier had parted. And you tried to curl in on yourself. Tried to hide from whoever was coming outside, only to hear his voice. You would have joked, claiming that your knight in shining armor had arrived to rescue you, but you couldn’t move. Didn’t want to move. Not after what happened.

“Doll I managed to get information out of Steve that confirms he’s in love with-” He stopped at the sight of you trying to fit your body underneath his leather jacket. “Doll?”

Wiping at your eyes you managed to smile at him, although at this point it honestly looked like a grimace. “Hey babe. I just needed some fresh air and-”

“What happened?”

He had dropped to his knees in front of you. The earlier tidbit about a conversation with Steve, now forgotten, because his person was crying. The love of his life. And suddenly he saw red beginning to leak into the corners of his eyes. He pulled you forward, allowing you to bury your face into his chest as you let out another sob. And it broke his heart.

“It’s stupid,” you mumbled, curling a hand into his shirt. “I took their words too literally when it was only-”

He pulled your head back lightly. “Whoa... hey, now, who made you cry? Where'd they go?”

“Bucky,” you said.

“What’s their name baby?” He was already on his feet, getting ready to head back into the party; the red in his vision blocking out the sounds of your pleas to remain there with you. To ignore what happened.

You scrambled to your feet, wrapping your arms around his torso to keep him from going anywhere. “Bucky just stay here please.”

“Someone hurt you. They don’t get to walk away without apologizing.”

You smiled against his chest, the tears now drying on your face. “And what’s your idea of making them apologize? Breaking their nose?”

Cupping the back of your neck he wiped away the last of the tears, his eyes no longer focused on the red, but instead on you. On how you smiled up at him even though your eyes still shined with the threat of oncoming tears. How you looked at him like he was your entire world; nothing could make you look at him different.

“If that’s what it takes,” he whispered.

Pressing a kiss to his wrist you pushed your nose into his vibranium hand. “I’m saying no to your punching them Sarge. I just want to go home. Can we do that?”

He was already helping to slip your arms through the sleeves of his jacket. “We can definitely do that.”

Walking back into the party wasn’t an ideal move, but it seemed to be the only way out of the damn building. Whoever was the host needed to look up the term fire exits, because this didn’t seem to be a safe place to hold a gathering this large. Bucky’s arm never left your waist, his lips pressing against your temple every few seconds to let you know he wasn’t going anywhere.

Except then you saw them...the person who had seemed it was hilarious to comment on the clothes that cost you more than your rent. An outfit you could barely afford and it’s not like you were the richest. But you thought it looked good. One of Bucky’s favorites, except he hadn’t told you that yet.

“What happened?” he asked, seeing the way you stopped, eyes focused on one person. The man standing by the bar attempting to pick up Natasha of all women. “Is that who…”

Shaking your head you tried to get him to move on, tried to tell him you just wanted to get out of there, but he was already heading over. The sharp tugs you made on his arm, not affecting him in any way. You were going to get banned from any gathering the Avengers were invited to after his, but a part of you wanted Bucky to teach the asshole a lesson. So, you let go. Let him walk up to the man as you stood off to the side.

“You the fucker who made my doll cry?”

The man’s hands flew up into a surrender motion. “Look man. It was just a joke. Who shows up wearing that to a party that was clearly meant for people of class?”

His nose broke before you could even blink. Bucky’s metal fist slamming into his face with enough force to send him back into the stool behind him. And they let him walk away. Moved out of the way as Bucky took your hand, beginning to lead you towards the front door. Leaving the man to bleed out; clutching at his now shattered nose.

“Now we can go home,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which harry stumbles across your livestream.

a/n: alright lovelies! here is my submission for bificathon hosted by my two lovely friends @bopbopstyles & @harrysclementines !! my prompt is ‘harry accidentally stumbles upon a livestream of her and her friend’ and let me tell you, I SNATCHED THIS SO QUICK! its my first time writing gxg smut, so pls be nice :’). also september is bi awareness month, so happy bi month babies! you’re so all beautiful and valid <3

enjoy 4k words of bi/camgirl!yn x roommate/best friend!harry filled with girl x girl smut/filth

come into my inbox and send feedback and let’s talk about this!

pls rb to share! <3

It was Harry’s usual Thursday night when he found himself lying in his bed with his laptop on his lap and a plate of his dinner in his hands. 

He was binge watching interior home designers on Netflix, letting out an ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ as they revealed the finished homes, practically envisioning his future home the same way. 

Thursday nights were practically the start of his weekend as he didn’t have classes on Fridays, and usually his friends and him would hang out, but he really just didn’t feel like going out nor did he have the social capacity to hang out and get drunk when he’s probably going to do that on Friday and Saturday. 

He simply just wanted a break, and that included staying inside and watching interior designers flip a house completely different, and eating his dinner. And he wasn’t ashamed that he enjoyed it. 

After a few episodes and an empty plate, Harry paused the next episode before it even started to put his plate away and grab a glass of water. As he was washing his plate, he heard the door open and close, followed by hushed giggles and whispers. 

“Shh. Harry might be asleep,” a voice said, but he knew it was you. You knew that he liked to sometimes sleep early, but he thought it was too early to be asleep, seeing as it was only eight p.m. 

“I’m actually in here,” he chuckled, making himself present with his voice. 

“Oh!” You said surprisingly, and another laugh was heard. 

You made your way to the kitchen, your guest following behind you as you saw Harry in just a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. 

“Hey, H,” you greeted. 

“Hi, love. Have fun tonight?” He asked. You had went to the bar to chill out from the many essays you had to write and exams you had to take, and Thursday nights were also a start to your weekend as well, so fuck it. 

“Yeah, I did, thanks for asking. This is Daniela, by the way,” you introduced the girl you had met at the bar. 

You had seen Daniela right when you walked in as her and her friends were sitting at the table right next to the entrance, and she immediately caught your eye. She looked right back at you, giving you some flirty eyes herself as you were dragged away by your friends and straight to the bar. 

After a few drinks and rounds of dancing with your best girlfriends, you saw Daniela walk over to the bar and order some drinks, so you decided that it was your chance to go up to her. 

You two had immediately hit it off, getting to know one another. She told you that she was a lesbian, and you proudly told her that you were bisexual. You also found out that you’re both in the same bio-chem class together, which definitely raised the excitement as she suggested studying together and you happily said yes. Then there was dancing while you two were both buzzed, completely forgetting your friends as you grinded against each other and kissed, not caring that you were practically putting on a show for everyone around you. 

And when you suggested that you took her home, she immediately said yes, and you dragged her outside as you waited for the Uber you called. 

“Nice to meet you, Daniela. I’m Harry,” he introduced himself, shaking her hand. “Her roommate and friend-”

“Best friend. C’mon, Harry, don’t put yourself lower than that,” you corrected and he smiled. 

“Alright, alright. My bad,” he laughed. 

“So, we’re gonna go to my room,” you winked him as Harry said ‘have fun’ before cleaning up a bit in the kitchen. 

He was glad that one of you was getting laid. He also noticed how happy you were, which he absolutely adored, and he thinks it has to do with the fact that you came out a year ago, and you’re now living your life to the fullest and happiest, and that’s all he wants; is for you to be happy with yourself and in general.

Harry met you at the end of freshman year of college as your friend groups met up with each other at a bar. He was a bit more shy than the rest of his friends, and didn’t immediately mingle with everyone until a few drinks in. But as you introduced yourself to his friends, you noticed him sitting down at the bar, not interacting with anyone. You were also somewhat on the quiet side, but was able to handle introducing yourself, so you completely understood why Harry acted the way he did when you two met. 

“Hey, not feeling it tonight?” You asked, taking a seat next to him. 

“Eh, not one for going up to people and initiating a conversation,” he said nervously. 

“I get that. Makes me nervous to go up to someone and talk to them, but I’m trying to get over that, so here’s me trying,” you chuckled as did he. 

“Well, we gotta drink to that then,” he said, and it took him by surprise that he was able to make a joke and laugh. 

It could have definitely been the liquid courage, but he was starting to warm up to you; joking around and becoming less tense as you two talked and drank. But that was because you were making him comfortable, to which he appreciated very much. 

Since then, you two have been by each other’s side. He told you that your friends kind of intimidated him because they were very out there, and that made you laugh slightly because it was very true, but you made sure to be by his side whenever your groups hung out. 

The group hangouts turned into one-on-one hangouts with just you and Harry. He was definitely more comfortable with you, and he really enjoyed your company and presence. 

Both of your friends had expected you two to end up together, but you two realized that you were better off as friends—who knows if you two will end up together, but for now, you were happy being best friends with him as was he. 

It was a year, the end of sophomore year, when you wanted to move out of the dorms. It wasn’t like you didn’t like your friends and roommates, but sometimes you wanted your own space and that didn’t help when there’s two other people in the same room as you. 

So Harry suggested that you both find a flat together since he was on the lookout for a flat anyways, and it’ll help him a ton with bills and whatnot. You excitedly said yes after you asked him if he was sure that he wanted to move in with you, and if he was extra sure that he wanted to since you’d be there when he would take home people. He laughed, and said that he didn’t care and wanted to live with you, saying it’ll be fun. You both had gotten quite close throughout that year and practically told each other everything, so it’ll be even better to live with someone you both trust. 

Junior year of uni, he noticed that you always came home with a sad frown on your face, briefly saying hi to him before going straight to your room and locking yourself up for hours. Harry tried figuring out why you were in such a mood all the time, and tracked his steps, seeing if he said anything wrong that made you upset. But he couldn’t figure it out as you both always had light and fun conversations during breakfast and dinner. 

And the frown went on for months until you both came back from Christmas break, and you told him that you had to tell him something very important. 

“Love, you can tell me anything, you know that right?” He said, reassuring you. 

“Yeah. It’s just…I’m nervous to,” you said, shaking your leg. Harry really wondered what happened during break that made you so anxious. He was worried that you wanted to move out and not live with him anymore, but he had to remind himself that it was probably not even about him as he told you to take your time. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll be here when you’re ready,” he said, and you nodded, giving him a smile before you walked off to your room to gather your thoughts. 

An hour later, you came out of your room and found Harry sitting on the couch, watching a film. You sat next to him, and he immediately turned off the TV, giving you his full attention.

You took a deep breath and started, “What I was trying to say earlier was that something about me has changed, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when I was still figuring it out, but I was just scared of what you would think,” you said. Harry started to get concerned, but he let you finish talking before he said anything. “So, I’ve always had an attraction towards girls, and I thought it was just me thinking a girl was pretty, but when I started to get nervous and flustered when a girl would talk to me, I realized that I really like them, and I would find myself flirting with them and longing to have something romantic with them. And then when I went back home for break, I met up with a childhood friend, and somehow…we kissed. It was so magical that it made my stomach flutter.” 

Harry had smiled softly as you told your story; knowing where this conversation was going, but of course, he stayed silent and let you talk. 

“So what I’m trying to tell you is that… I’m bi,” you had said nervously, hands shaking in your lap. You were trying to contain your tears from falling from your face as you shook your leg. 

“Love, I’m so happy for you,” he replied, opening his arms to comfort you from the anxiety you were feeling from telling him. You had softly sobbed into his shoulder, feeling the weight on your shoulders disappear as you had finally told the person you were closest to and who you trust the most. 

“R-Really?” You said as you pulled away from his hold. 

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be? I’m happy that you can be whoever you want to be and I’m here to support you,” he said, holding your arms and running his hands over your skin. 

“Thank you, Harry,” you smiled at him, feeling ultimately grateful for your best friend and his acceptance. 

Harry smiled at the memory as he heard giggles through your door, and he chuckled as he finished cleaning before heading to his room. He was feeling a bit tired and despite it being a bit earlier than his usual bedtime, he decided to call it a night a try to get some sleep, deciding that he could go on a run in the morning since he was sleeping early. 

But after an hour of tossing and turning, he gave up trying to get a restful sleep, and opened his laptop to put on some Netflix, hoping it would lull him into a deep slumber. He was comfortably watching a random show until his hand grazed his crotch, and he realized he hadn’t relieved himself nor had he had sex in a while. 

So, he pushed his boxers down his legs, kicked them off the bed, and took off his shirt before he grabbed some lube and pumped his cock as it immedately hardened in his hand. He began touching himself in the darkness of his room as he quietly groaned out and threw his head back on his pillow. 

Realizing he doesn’t have some kind of visual, he stops to search up cam girl sites on the internet so he can get a mental image in his head to get him off. He finally settled on one user that was doing a live stream called ‘KISSYPLS’ as the preview was a girl going down on another with a purple ambiance to the room. The room was dark, but not dark enough where he couldn’t see the two girls. 

The sound of the moans from his laptop were quite loud and he didn’t want you to hear it all the way from your room, so he grabbed some headphones from his bedside table, plugging in his earbuds into his ears as the sounds of the girls moaned and talked dirty to each other. 

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” the girl that was doing the eating out said before she crawled her way up to the other’s body. 

And the slightest moment as Harry was watching, the girl on her back had shifted down a bit as they kissed, and Harry’s eyes flew wide open once he glanced. He saw the face that he wouldn’t have expected he would see. 

His roommate. His best friend. It was you. 

You were being eaten out on his computer screen by Daniela, and he was in complete shock. He honestly hadn’t expected to find you because it was just a random scroll through the site, but holy fuck. 

You hadn’t had your account for very long—maybe about three months. But you thought it was a good way to make some extra money because the bills were stacking up and they had to be paid off somehow. And you loved the idea of getting off in front of a camera for random strangers who pay to see that shit. 

And of course, Harry didn’t know you were a cam girl at all. He hadn’t seen that coming when he was looking for something to get off to. But he wasn’t complaining. He just didn’t expect you to be the one on the other side of the screen. But there you were, showing your body and having sex with someone on camera for the (as shown) 27 people watching who are also horny as fuck. 

You as a person are already beautiful, he knew that, but your body was something else. The way your tits were shown so clearly on his screen with your tattoo that was inked right next to your left tit; as the purple light hit your skin. He wanted to take them in his mouth and devour them. 

You were sprawled out onto the bed, naked as Daniela was kissing you, and he couldn’t stop looking at you as your face looked while kissing someone. He was in complete shock that he stopped stroking himself, his dick in his hands as he watched you two make out. But once his cock twitched from the sight of your ass sticking up, getting a view of your glistening pussy and ass, he continued. 

You flipped Daniela onto her back, making her squeal in surprise before you started kissing down her body, leaving small and sweet kisses to her soft skin. You took her nipples into your mouth, sucking on it lightly as she moaned. Once you were lying on your stomach between her legs, you gave her inner thighs a kiss before licking one long strike up her pussy. You generally loved the way girls taste rather than guys, so your mouth salivates more when you’re with women, eating them out and tasting them, and pleasuring them to their orgasm.

You tongue focused on her clit, licking her sensitive bud relentlessly as your arms were looped under her thighs, and your hand reached up to grab one of her breasts, taking her nipple in between your finger and lightly pulling it. 

“Oh, fuck,” she moaned. Her voice was much more high pitched than normal, but you think it’s hot as fuck. “Like that.” 

That encouraged you to continue sucking on her clit, and you brought your free hand to plunge two fingers into her wet pussy, curling up to meet the soft spot inside of her. Daniela’s back arched off the bed as her hair was spread out onto the pillow as she grabbed a fistful of your sheets into her hands. You pulled your mouth away from her to place your hand on her clit, rubbing it fast as you continue to finger fuck her. Daniela was an absolute mess above you, chanting that she was going to come as a way to manifest her orgasm. 

“C’mon, beautiful. Cum for me,” you encouraged her, the sound of your voice had made Daniela and Harry moan out with how sultry and seductive you sounded. Daniela’s peak washed over her as her hips bucked up, but you placed your arm on top of her thigh to stop her from moving as you calmed her down from her high. You licked her up once more, collecting her juices on your tongue before climbing up her body to connect your lips with her. Daniela could taste herself on you, and it turned her on even more despite just having an orgasm. 

Harry watched as you two kissed for a while. She wrapped her arms around your back, pressing her body against yours as you two made out, swirling your tongues together. Harry fondled his balls, intensifying the feeling before going back to stroke his cock. He gripped on his long hair with his other hand, so it felt like someone was in the room pulling his hair for him, and he closed his eyes. With the feeling of his orgasm coming, he was about ready to pump faster so he could get to his peak, but he heard your voice again. 

“I’m not done with you yet. Wanna cum again?” You asked her, and she nodded eagerly. “Want you to cum when I say so,” you told Daniela, and she nodded. Harry slowed his movements down as if he felt like you were personally talking to him, even though a lot of people on her live stream felt the way he did once she said those words. 

You fixed the laptop, pushing it back a little but still pointing it down to your bodies rather than your face. Giving Daniela a kiss, you situate yourself, putting one leg over her and the other under. You reach between you two, inserting your finger in her wet hole and bringing that wetness to her clit, and she does the same to you. 

Slowly moving closer to one another, you touch clits, rubbing it against each other as you two moaned out. The sounds coming from both of your mouths were loud enough that Harry had heard them from his room, and it genuinely felt like he was in the same room as he was also watching it on his screen. 

“Fuck, I wanna cum,” he groaned to himself. 

“You wanna cum?” You said, rubbing yourself on her and she whimpered out a ‘mhm,’ and you proceeded to grind faster. 

“Yeah, please let me,” Harry moaned. 

The feeling of both your wetness rubbing together was sending you over the edge as you felt like you were going to explode. Your moans had gotten louder, and you really hoped Harry was wearing some sort of headphones with loud music because you felt bad that you were being this loud, but you couldn’t help it. 

But little did you know that Harry was listening to everything. 

You felt like Daniela had waited long enough to release, so you grabbed her face gently, giving her a kiss. “Go ahead. Cum for me,” you said breathlessly as you were going to let go after she was done. 

Once Harry heard those words, he sighed in relief, letting out a loud groan as his orgasm was released onto his stomach. His abs clenched and his hips bucked into his hand. He grabbed a pillow and bit on it, concealing his moans as he came down from his high. With his chest heaving up and down, he looked over at his laptop to see you breathing deeply and he knew that you had just orgasmed as well. 

Your orgasms had hit both of you hard as you were left sprawled out on the bed, laying on opposite sides as your legs were still entangled with one another. Daniela sat up, pulling your body towards her, and she kissed you deeply, still feeling entirely breathless. 

“God, you’re amazing,” she said against your lips, and you smiled into the kiss. The live stream was still going on, so Harry continued watching you two interact with one another post orgasm. “Kinda wanna use that dildo of yours on you,” she smirked, and you chuckled, nodding your head eagerly. 

“Like a threesome, but with a dildo,” you joked, and she laughed. 

“Maybe we should have one?” 

“What? A threesome?” You asked, pulling back, and she nodded her head and shrugged her shoulders. 

“Yeah, why not?” 

“With who?” 

Just on cue, a knock was heard on your door quite loud, making you and Daniela turn your heads towards the door. Before you even had the chance to even get up, the door opened, revealing Harry in just his boxers. You couldn’t help but look down at his crotch area and see his cock hard. 

“Done with the show ladies?” He asked, smirking. The two of you were still completely naked, but neither of you cared to make an effort to cover yourselves. 

“W-What?” You stuttered and looked at Daniela as she had no clue what was going on either. 

“Watched your live stream,” he finally said, and your eyes widened. 

“How did you find it?” You asked, moving towards the edge of the bed, and Daniela stayed behind near the headboard. 

“By coincidence, I swear,” he said, walking towards you. “Was just scrolling and I was horny as fuck, and I stumbled upon it.” 

“D-Did you like it?” A nervous tone came with your words, and it was strange because you’ve never been nervous with Harry, except the time you came out to him. A huge part of you wanted him to say he liked it and that he enjoyed the show, and you really hoped he did. 

He stood in between your legs and looked down at you as you looked up. The sight below him was just something that irked him; you looking up at him with wide eyes, acting innocent and him looking down at you with a raging hard on, begging to be touched by you and your mouth. He placed his hands on both sides of your face, caressing your warm cheek as he studied you for a moment. The smear of mascara that laid under your eyes and your flushed cheeks made his cock twitch. 

Just from watching your live stream, he noticed that you were quite dominant in bed with girls. But with how you’re looking at him, wanting validation and reassurance from him, you’re submissive with men (or just him in general).

His stare was intimidating, and the dark purple light illuminating your room didn’t help. He’s never seen you naked and bare, so that added to the stress of if he likes what he sees. But you were surprised that you didn’t want to cover up in front of him. Throughout the years of being best friends and roommates, you two have never fucked. Although you have kissed multiple times, it was purely platonic and sometimes you just needed a kiss every once in a while. And as your best friend, Harry was happy to help. 

“Of course I fucking loved it. Wanna know my favorite part?” You smiled softly, nodding slowly as you looked at him with big and innocent eyes. He bent down, matching your eye level before he whispered, “Well, first of all you, of course. Looked so damn beautiful, I swear.” You blushed, and he continued. “But the part when Daniela suggested a threesome just a minute ago. If you and her are up with me being a plus one, then I am. Your wish is my command,” he said softly, kissing your nose.

Daniela gasped behind you, a big smile on her face as she crawled to the edge of the bed, wrapping her arms around your waist and kissed your shoulder before she spoke. 

“Well, looks like we’re gonna have a lot of fucking fun.” 

[shirakumos-sandwich-shop]

❄️SCARAMOCHE X FEM READER X CHILDE ❄️

❄️Arranged marriage AU❄️

❄️PART 2 ❄️

Scaramoche held out his hand to you and you cautiously took it. He was a dangerous man but you couldn’t help but be intrigued. He smirked at you and led you to the side of the dance floor. One hand held yours and the other snaked around your waist. You realized you were still clutching your vision.

“Here,” he let go of your hand and plucked the vision out of your palm. He maintained a firm hold on your waist with his other hand as he pocketed it. “Don’t worry, I’ll give it back after.” He said, answering your tense expression.

He held your hand again and you let your free hand fall on his shoulder.

You had decided there was no way this was the man your parents were trying to marry you off to. He was known for being cruel and authoritative to those under him and he was disliked by many. Your father would not have allowed it for sure.

“What’s puzzling you.” He asked, noticing your furrowed brow. Startled by the sudden question you looked up into his dark purple eyes.

“Hmm?” He questioned.

“Would you like the truth or a lie?” You asked.

“Oh? Interesting. I’d like to hear both. What’s the lie?”

“Thinking about how good of a dancer you are.”

He laughed and pulled you a bit closer.

“You're right, I don’t have much time or use for dancing. So my skills are a little rusty.”

“I’ve had worse. At least you know where to put your hands.” What were you saying… you blushed at your own words.

“Hmm. Is that so.” He smirked and inspected your face. “What’s the truth then?”

Was there any harm in telling him?

“My parents are determined to marry me off to some man I don’t know.” You said flatly. “He’s supposed to be here tonight to decide if he wants me or not.”

“Well, that is interesting.”

“Is it?”

“I think so.” He hummed thoughtfully. “He’s somewhere here then?”

“I guess, I don’t know who, where or if he’s decided if I’m worth his time or not.”

“I’m a bit jealous I must admit.” His words made a deeper blush creep up on your cheeks. “Whoever he is, he’s a lucky man.”

His fingers intertwined with yours and you felt his thumb gently caress the back of your hand. A shiver went down your spine from the sensation. Unsure of what to do you just stared back into his violet eyes. The song ended and he pulled you aside.

“Y/n!” Tartaglia’s voice called. He walked over with a cheery grin until he saw who you were with. His face changed to one of confusion. “I didn’t know you two knew each other, hello Mucci!” His dorky smile returned. The man next to you tsked and scowled at the younger harbinger.

“Mucci?” You asked into the air.

“Don’t even.” Scaramoche grumbled.

“But seriously how do you know each other?” Your redheaded friend continued.

“We uh..” you started.

“We just met.” The dark haired man next to you broke in. “Just getting acquainted, nothing to bother your idiot head about.”

You felt very awkward standing between the two, part of you wanted to slip off and leave them to bicker.

“I never thought you had an interest in other people besides yourself, Mucci.” Childe prodded. Scaramoche gave him a look that almost paralyzed you with fear but didn’t seem to bother your friend one bit.

“Anyway, I’m leaving. I have important business to attend to.” He turned his attention back to you. “It’s been a pleasure.” And with that he walked off into the crowd.

“What did he want?” Tartaglia asked, all pretense of happiness gone.

“I honestly don’t know.” You told him.

“Well.” He looked at you concerned. “Don’t let him hang around if you see him again. I don’t mind him that much but I wouldn’t trust him around you.”

“Why?”

“He’s just… an asshole.” Childe sighed. “I don’t wanna go into it right now.”

You saw how bothered he was by the whole thing.

“Alright, I’ll take your word for it. Besides, he was pretty weird.” You tried to lighten the mood and smiled at him. Tartaglia smiled back shyly.

“You wanna dance again?” He asked.

“Sure!” And so he scooped you back into his arms and you twirled around the dance floor together. Still something seemed off, like something was missing.

“Y/n? Where did you put your vision?” Tartaglia pulled you to a stop as he looked over you, concerned. You gasped loudly.

“He took it!” You patted the spot on your back where it should have been.

“Wait, did he really!”

“Yes! It came off so he put it in his pocket while we danced.” You wondered if he had kept it on purpose. He didn’t seem the type to just forget things.

“I’ll go find him.” Tartaglia told you. “Wait here.” He rushed off in the direction that Scaramoche had gone earlier. You couldn’t just wait there. After a moment of thought you pushed through the crowds and began walking down the ornate halls of the building. On a whim you started opening doors to the different rooms. After what seemed like an hour of doing so you passed a large door and heard a familiar voice from behind it. You stopped and listened for a second, you couldn’t make out the words but you recognized his voice. Should you wait? Or just go after him?

You pushed the door open just enough to slip through. Sure enough, there was Scaramoche sitting in a velvet armchair. He stopped speaking as he noticed you enter the room. Determined to take back what was yours, you walked to him.

“Oh, good. it’s you.” He said.

“Give it back Scaramoche!” You held out your hand demandingly.

“What? This?” He held out your vision teasingly. You tried to snatch it but he kept it away from you like he was playing with a cat.

“Y/n! How dare you be so rude.” You turned to see your mother glaring at you angrily. In your rush you hadn’t noticed that your parents were the ones he had been talking to.

“What is this about?” You asked your parents even though you already knew. Scaramoche smirked to himself as he toyed with your vision.

“Y/n, If you hadn’t burst in and interrupted us we could have properly introduced you.” Your mother said.

“You don’t mean..” you stumbled over your words.

“Are we done here then?” He asked of your parents. “I gave you my answer.”

Every word that came out of his mouth pushed you closer to the edge. You just wanted to run away from everything. You snatched the vision from his hand and ran out of the room, your mother shouted behind you.

“I’ll speak to her.” Scaramoche said diplomatically. “If you would excuse me.” He nodded to your parents and left the room after you.

You ran through the building trying to stop yourself from crying. You only came to your senses when you crashed into someone.

“Y/n? What! What’s wrong?” Tartaglia said breathlessly. You had knocked the wind out of him. He pulled you closer with his strong arms.

“What’s wrong, did something happen?” He asked in a worried tone. You looked into his ocean blue eyes and all you could do was make a strangled sob. You buried your face in his soft shirt. His arms pulled you close against him to comfort you.

“It’s alright, I’m here.” He stroked your hair to calm you and you grabbed onto his shirt. Your tears had already left it damp.

“Tartaglia,” a stern voice said behind you. “I’d appreciate it if you’d get your hands off my fiancée.”

(I have a few more parts to this, so let me know if you like this and want me to post them)

[dreamingaboutreid]

Hospital Bed Confessions: Chapter 7

*Continuation*

*Flash-forward*

Spencer was truly in awe. It had been 8 months since you joined the BAU.

Hotch seemed much happier with no more mountains of paperwork on his desk. All the files were neatly filed in Y/N’s office and his workload was greatly alleviated. He also had someone to confide to and understand a little bit of the pressure he had been experiencing.

Emily loved having a fellow Chesapeake Bay alumnus. With JJ being on mom-duty, Emily had a friend to go out with after she returned to the team, and they seemed to have plethora of things to talk about and relate to. He often heard them discussing their love of Kilgore Trout or favorite traveling destination.

Penelope was ecstatic to have another affectionate and loving member on the team. Y/N spent a lot of time with Garcia on deciding cases and it was evident how much they cherished each other. Y/N often brought in colorful collectibles and helped Penelope arrange them in her office.

Rossi respected Y/N’s focused yet good-natured character. They shared stories of their time in the military, which they rarely disclosed with the other members. He thought of Y/N as a daughter and took pleasure in sharing his knowledge of cars and whiskey.

JJ treated Y/N like a sister. It was obvious how similar they were. Both attentive and considerate with remarkable people skills. Y/N also became JJ’s go-to babysitter as JJ full heartedly trusted her with kids, which was a huge compliment coming from JJ.

Derek enjoyed Y/N’s company, who had a surprising knowledge of football, and would often make fun bets on what team would win the next game. He would also come to you for solid advice when he needed someone to level with him.

Not to mention, everyone was thrilled to go home at least an hour earlier normal, thanks to your fast but thorough write-ups you continued to do every day on behalf of the team.

For Spencer, you were a whole new world. He not only appreciated you as a hardworking member but as a new best friend.

You never interrupted him and seemed genuinely invested in whatever he said. Whether it was a new book he was reading or a new foreign film that came out. You truly made him feel heard and cared for. After he told you about Maeve, it felt like something was taken off his shoulder. Like you knew his pain and rather than only feeling sorry for him, they shared it together.

He also truly admired your ability to talk to people. Whether it was a serial killer who was holding a gun to someone’s head or a sobbing parent who had just lost a child or even an abrasive detective they had to work with, you just knew exactly what to say.

Spencer couldn’t place a flaw in you. The way you smiled, talked, listened, walked, ate, slept, heck everything, seemed so perfect to him.

When Blake came to his apartment to say her farewell, he was devastated. Another person was walking out of his life. But for the first time, he didn’t wallow up in his apartment by himself, blaming his eidetic memory for repeating all their conversations in his head or contemplating then shutting down his mental debate on taking dilaudid.

He didn’t hesitate to dial your number, and you appeared in front of his door in a matter of minutes. You had the ability to listen to his problems and somehow make them go away, or at least make him feel better.

While he always appreciated it, it bothered Spencer after a while how you never came to him when you wanted to feel better. You managed to carry all that weight without yourself ever breaking.

But he realized that it wasn’t anything personal. You just never showed much emotions to anyone, except for happy ones.

Spencer remembered when Derek asked you one day,

“How come you never come to us when you’re feeling down? There’s no way you’re always a ray of sunshine. Even baby girl has her emotional breakdowns.”

You had quickly brushed it off and said, “I’d rather make people smile than worry or cry.”

And it was the end of that.

Spencer often thought about this. Derek made a very good point. You were human after all.

But he knew that there was something much darker in you.

While you didn’t voice your emotions, your eyes told a different story.

When you were interrogating unsubs, your eyes became cold but your words remained calm and almost soothing, as if you were luring them out their lies to know their true intentions. When you were talking to victims or victims’ families, your eyes showed sympathy and it comforted whoever you were consoling when explaining that the unit was doing our best. And when you were talking to the ones you loved and cared about, you allowed your eyes to relax but there was a twinkle that he couldn’t keep his own eyes off of.

He hoped that you would open up to him, like he had to you.

But, it wasn’t too long until his wish was answered and he witnessed something that changed everything.

Y/N’s POV

You were exhausted.

It wasn’t the workload or rigor your job came with.

It was the emotional tole. You learned how to compartmentalize your feelings well from losing the ones you loved from experience.

But this job was different from talking to soldiers or serial killers. You were talking to normal people. You had unconsciously put your guard down and the emotions hit you little by little.

Every day, you walked in to deciding which cases to solve and you walked out hoping it was the right one to choose. The extra work you were doing actually helped keep your mind out of all the feelings and reality and helped focus your energy on something tangible.

You weren’t sure what came over you that day, but you had been on edge the whole jet ride back from a case. When everyone arrived back to the office, it wasn’t just you who was drained.

“Everyone go home early and get some ready. You deserve it. But report back tomorrow at 9 to finish your statements,” stated Hotch.

“I think I’ll stay back. Finish some of the paperwork,” you stated with a weak smile.

Hotch looked at you reluctantly.

“Are you sure? Everyone’s worn out. It’s okay to go,” Hotch said.

“It must be all the coffee,” you joked lamely, hoping Hotch took the excuse.

Hotch didn’t seem to notice as it was quite normal for you to stay late.

“Alright. Well, everyone thank Y/N on the way out and report back tomorrow at 10,” Hotch said as patted you on the back as he exited.

“Thanks for the extra hour of sleep,” Rossi stated as he walked towards the elevator.

“You’re an actual lifesaver,” Morgan commented.

As everyone said their respective greetings and left, you quickly ran up to JJ.

“Hey, JJ. Can I ask you a favor?” you asked.

“Of course! I owe you anyways,” JJ said.

“Do you mind if you give Spencer a ride home? Usually I take him, but I don’t want him to wait for me and he seems pretty tired,” you stated.

While you truly loved the arrangement you had with Spencer, you needed some space right now.

“Sounds like a plan. Just tell him I’ll be waiting in the car,” JJ said as she grabbed her belonging.

You thanked her and gave her a quick hug.

You turned and found Spencer already reading a book by his desk. Even though you thought Spencer always looked handsome, you had to admit that he did look tired.

“Hey, Spence. I think I’m going to stay a little late today.”

“Yeah, I heard you telling Hotch. I don’t mind waiting,” he said.

It must have been the pent up emotions you had been suppressing as you could feel your eyes slightly tearing up. You quickly forced them away, praying Spencer didn’t catch on. No matter how many times Spencer displayed his kindness and patience, you always appreciated his small acts of compassion.

“No, no. You must be exhausted. I asked JJ to take you home, and she’s waiting in her car for you. Seriously, get some rest,” you reassured Spencer.

After a bit of reluctancy, Spencer replied,

“Okay, I probably shouldn’t keep JJ waiting for too long. Thanks, Y/N. Don’t stay too late.”

You simply nodded and you watched Spencer walk away while looking back.

You waved, indicating that it was okay to leave.

After he finally left, it was just you, all alone. You turned off the lights in the pit, making it pitch dark, and walked into your office.

Closing your door and only turning on the light on your desk, you went to the corner of the room and sank down as you burst into tears.

It wasn’t the first time you had a breakdown. But it was always behind closed door. In the bathtub in your house. In the comfort of your bed. At the safety of your house. But today, you couldn’t hold it until you went home.

As you wept, you hoped the tears you released would somehow erase the remorse you felt. You sobbed without anything holding you back until you felt a looming presence over your crouched figure.

“Oh my gosh, Spencer. You startled me, I didn’t notice you were here,” you quickly said as you tried to wipe away the evidence of your momentary vulnerability. You didn’t need a mirror to know that it was an unsuccessful attempt.

“Sorry, I saw the light in your office and thought you’d be in here.”

“Did you forget something?” you asked, puzzled by his unexpected return.

“No, I just didn’t want you to be all alone so I told JJ that she could just go home,” Spencer said softly.

He continued, “I also saw you were a bit uneasy earlier.”

So Spencer hadnoticed.

“In fact, it seemed like you were stressed the whole day. Are you okay?” he asked.

You weren’t sure if it was the display of Spencer’s empathy again or the fact that he recognized something was bothering you when you were able to hide it from a group of profilers, but you felt the tears reappearing again and you didn’t want to hold back.

You broke into sobs for the second time that day and slowly slid back into the position you were originally in.

Spencer didn’t hesitate to join you as he sat and put a tight protective arm around you while he just let you cry.

“Am I making the right decisions? Who am I to choose who dies or lives? What if….” you trailed as you muffled all your worries into his chest.

For the first in a long time, you felt safe in the arms of someone else. You didn’t have to, or heck, want to hide yourself anymore. When Spencer held your hand, you knew.

You looked up to see the most understanding eyes, and you knew right then and there that you had found your person.

[7-deadly-simpin]

I'm sorry I couldn't find the rules so feel free to ignore this if it doesn't fit, but I was thinking on a disaster wedding, like everything goes wrong or weird, the "priest" Mixes up the names, groomsmen faints, flower girl throws poison ivy instead of flowers, things like that. And to top it all MC forgets their vows and runs!?

I wonder how would they (not-und or bros, or whoever you want, heck, you can do Mephistopheles if you want but I feel Lucifer would be the funniest one) react, what would they do.

Any format you'd like. I just leave the idea!

Love your writing and chaos! Good night!

Well poop...I...I don't even have rules set up. I really need to get on that. On that note, you are completely fine lovey!

Oooooh yes yes yes! Let's have some fun! Thank you so much lovey! This ended up much longer than expected. This is unedited so there may be a few mistakes..!

Wedding Misadventures- Lucifer

It was meant to be the perfect day for the two of you.

You were to marry one of the most powerful demons in the Devildom.

Handsome, stoic, pretty nice butt as well (stop saying that last part out loud, you know how much it embarrasses him)

But you must have forgot where you were, NOTHING is simple here.

First off, Mammon had to be forcibly dragged to the ceremony....in chains.

He was probably the most upset of the brothers that you chose to spend the rest of your life with Lucifer.

Second, the colors were all wrong.

A minor inconvenience to you, but a death sentence for whoever messed up for Lucifer. 

And the FLOWERS???

Loudly exclaims “My peonies…!”

Belphie ready with a retort yells back “THEY’RE MARIGOLDS…!”

This demon is about to lose his shit, and of course you’re nowhere in sight…!

The groom isn’t supposed to see his partner until the ceremony begins!

You didn’t have too many friends in the Devildom, so who else would step in as part of your team other than the exchange students?

Luke was the cutest little flower angel, and although he wasn’t the happiest about it, for you he promised to be the best.

Too bad Luke dropped the flowers he was supposed to throw into the lake.

Panicked, he quickly grabbed a bunch of flowers from the surrounding area and some leaves for good measure.

As he threw petals and leaves here and there, a murmur could be heard from the stands.

Maybe it was because there was dirt and grass mixed in with the petals...he did hastily pick them from the ground after all.

Or...ouch...why is his skin so itchy right now? It feels like...oh sugar cookies 

(This is how Luke curses, change my mind) 

NOW he gets why it said that field was “off limits”....

All is well when Lucifer is waiting at the altar and you saunter in looking absolutely stunning.

The color, the fit, everything looked amazing and no one could keep their eyes off you.

You bet your butt Solomon and Simeon were balling their eyes out on your side of the altar.

For your happiness or because you were getting married to Lucifer, they couldn’t stop crying long enough to clarify.

Your eyes were set on your love though, even Lucifer couldn’t help but forget everything that was troubling him earlier when he saw you approach him

Cue all the brothers beginning to UGLY SOB.

You thought that was the end of it, oh honey….not even close.

Barbatos is the ordained minister, trust me it shocks everyone but he’s got the credentials.

He can’t stop glancing at the prince, who is visibly distressed by the situation.

Oh f...Did Barbatos just call Lucifer….Satan?

By the shocked look on everyone's face, except Satan who looks smug AF, he can confirm, yes….yes he did.

You bring the focus back with a light joke that makes your future husband lose the literal skulls in his eyes and get ‘em back to hearts.

Lucifer declares his love for you with gorgeously laid out vows about your journey together.

Something inside you noticeably snaps as you feel around for the little paper vows you swore you kept on you

That’s not it, nope not that either.

Oh no, you were starting to sweat and the silence was getting a bit awkward.

You panicked and asked for a few seconds, Barbatos tolerated that.

Everything would have been fine, but you hauled ass off the stage.

As if it wasn’t awkwardly silent enough…

Did...did you just leave Lucifer at the altar…? The brothers started to murmur.

You really did just run to find the vows, it was difficult to remember the words when staring in such a beautiful demons eyes.

As you returned, you couldn't tell whether you should stop what was happening or not.

It sure was a sight.

Diavolo, assumed you left for good, so he took his chance and stepped in and was mid-proposal to Lucifer.

You decided to watch it all play out.

The rest is history ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[blueskrugs]

In Between Being Young and Being Right | Mat Barzal

this is for  @yes-he-mccann and the @hockeynetwork fic exchange! I hope you like it!  

this was written on a stack of looseleaf over the course of about four hours and I used up like half of a brand new pen on it.

length: 4.1k words

the torture of small talk with someone you used to love

You met Mat Barzal the summer after his rookie year, fresh off the high of winning the Calder, all good looks and a quiet confidence. 

You fell in love under the fireworks over Lake Okanagan. 

It was a whirlwind summer romance, and you both knew it. It was one of those relationships that usually came with an expiration date, when the sun set earlier and the nights were colder. You and Mat didn’t care, though, because you fell so hard and fast for each other that you couldn’t imagine a life without the other one in it. Besides, you heard the whispers of all your friends and family, the way they said that you and Mat were made for each other.

It certainly seemed that way to you too, because you saw the love in Mat’s eyes when he looked at you, the way his face lit up when you laughed with him, and you knew that love was reflected in your own eyes, even when Mat pushed you off the dock and into the lake. 

The summer passed in a humid haze. You talked about the future as you laid in the grass under the stars, hands tangled together between you. About Mat’s career. About you graduating college in a couple of years. Moving to New York. Following Mat and his dream. 

You sat around bonfires with your friends, sitting on Mat’s lap and wearing one of his hoodies, watching the sparks fly into the dark sky and feeling Mat wrap his arms around your waist.

The end of summer was creeping ever nearer, but you and Mat were as inseparable as ever. Until you weren’t, until Mat went back to Long Island for training camp. 

You felt the 3000 miles between you as you talked on the phone each night. You could feel Mat pulling away as the distance stretched between you. You also knew there was nothing you could do about it. 

“I think we should break up,” he said one night just after the season started. The Islanders had won, and Mat had scored a goal, but he sounded tired, exhausted in a way that was more than just the hockey game. You choked back a sob, but Mat continued on. “I just don’t think this long-distance thing is working.”

It wasn’t working because Mat didn’t want it to. There was more to it than that, you knew, but you didn’t push as Mat hung up the phone. You stared at your phone long after the screen went dark. You were wearing an old Thunderbirds sweatshirt of Mat’s, and it still smelled like him, but instead of being comforting, it was suddenly cloying. You pulled the hood over your head to sleep, letting the familiar scent wash over you as the tears fell onto your pillowcase. 

Life went on. You learned to paste on a smile and laugh when someone told you that they’d thought you and Mat had been perfect together, that you would have been together forever. You’d thought that, too. Last summer seemed like a lifetime ago.

Summer rolled around again. You hadn’t spoken to Mat since that last phone call; you wondered vaguely what you would say to him if you saw him again. You went back to the Lake with your family and hoped you never had to find out. 

You bumped into Tyson Jost, literally, one day in July in the middle of the lake. He was in a kayak, and he was definitely intentionally trying to knock you off your paddleboard. You splashed him with your paddle as he laughed. 

It was nice for a moment, familiar as Tyson pouted at you and tried to fix his curls, like it was last summer again. Except nothing was the same, and Tyson must have realized it at the same time as you, because his smile fell. 

“Hey,” he offered quietly.

“Hey, Tys,” you said back, sitting down on your paddleboard, letting one leg hang over the side and into the water. 

It  was quiet for a moment, neither of you knowing what to say next, just the sound of cicadas filling the air. 

“Haven’t heard from you in a while,” Tyson said.

You shrugged, tilting your face up towards the sun so you didn’t have to meet Tyson’s eyes. Tyson had always been nice to you, and you two got along, but he’d always been Mat’s friend, not yours.

Tyson nudged your leg with his paddle. “Miss playing Spikeball with you on my team,” he added. “We never lost when we were together.”

You laughed, looking back at Tyson, “That might have been because we’re ‘too competitive.’”

Tyson was grinning at you. “Nah,” he said. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You laughed harder; you weren’t sure when the last time you had laughed this hard was. “Wanna join me out here for a while?” you asked when you caught your breath. 

“I’ll race ya,” Tyson said, already turning his kayak around for a head start. 

You beat him anyway. 

You didn’t see Mat at all that summer; you couldn’t decide if you were relieved or disappointed. His sister texted you once, but you didn’t respond. Mat still followed you on Instagram, too, would like your posts within a couple of hours, but he never interacted further than that. Your thumb hovered over the “remove follower” button on more than one late night, but it never actually got pressed. You still wore one of his hoodies to sleep sometimes. It no longer smelled like him, and it left you lonelier than ever come morning. 

When your work offered to send you to an important conference in New York City as a representative for the Vancouver area, you didn’t hesitate to say yes. You didn’t think about the fact that it was the middle of November, that hockey season in full swing, until a week later. You were in the middle of packing when your phone lit up with a notification that told you Mat had just scored a goal.

You looked at the Islanders hoodie that you had absently folded and placed at the top of your suitcase. 

New York was a big city, right? What were the odds that you would see Mat?

The odds were really fucking high, it turned out. 

You’d barely been in New York two days when you crossed paths with Mat. You were standing in line in a coffee shop, because your relationship was still a walking cliche, even after not seeing Mat for over a year. You heard his laugh before you saw his face.

You could never forget that laugh. You still heard it in your sleep, in the dark when you couldn’t chase the memories away. Except in your dreams it was never followed by a giggle that wasn’t yours. Like it was now. 

You resisted the urge to turn around, instead kept your eyes glued to your phone screen, but you weren’t really reading any of the words on it. 

A barista called out Mat’s name, and then he was brushing past you, murmuring an apology as he went past. He didn’t look at you, not really, more focused on getting his coffee. Not until he turned around, coffee now in hand, and you thought he was going to drop the cup for a moment as he did a literal double take. Frozen in the middle of a coffee shop in Manhattan. You would’ve laughed, but instead you felt like you couldn’t breathe. 

“Y/N,” Mat breathed. You almost didn’t hear him over the din of the conversations around you. 

His hair had grown out some, you couldn’t help but notice.

Someone else bumped into you, but you didn’t pay them any mind. Mat was still staring at you, but at least he’d closed his mouth. The barista called your name, and you moved to grab your cup from the counter. Mat grabbed your arm as you turned to leave but jerked back quickly, letting go like he’d been burned. 

You didn’t have enough caffeine in your system for this, and you didn’t have time for it, either. You were going to be late at this rate, but you paused anyway, looked into Mat’s eyes. You were both saved from speaking by a girl coming over and draping herself over Mat.

“Mat, baby, what’s taking you so long?” Mat shrugged the girl off of him, looking annoyed. She turned her attention to you then. “I’m Clara, Mat’s girlfriend,” she told you, her smile turning a little mean, as if she knew exactly who you were. She didn’t offer a hand, and instead, wound her arms around Mat’s bicep. 

She was tall, model-thin and model-pretty. Blonde in a way that was too perfect to be real. You were suddenly acutely aware of your own chipped nail polish. 

Mat didn’t say anything, but he refused to look at you.

You gripped your coffee cup tighter, turned, and fled, the bell over the door tinkling cheerily. It mocked you as you felt your heart break all over again. 

Mat had moved on; you hadn’t. And that was fine. Or, at least, that’s what you told yourself as you sipped your coffee and walked through the crowded streets of New York. Your phone vibrated with a text in your hand, but you turned it off without looking at it and threw it in your purse.

When you turned your phone back on later that night, back in the safety of your hotel room, the text at the top of your screen was from Mat. 

“I’m sorry,” it read.

Then, several hours later, another: “she’s not you.”

You scoffed. You felt a little bit like throwing your phone at the wall. 

Another text from Mat came through. You wondered if he’d been checking his phone all day, waiting for the little “read” to appear under all of his messages to you. “It’s just easier with her.”

You blocked Mat’s phone number through your tears.

That night as you fell asleep, you couldn’t help but wonder if Clara was the reason Mat had broken up with you. You wondered if she laughed at all of his stupid jokes like you always had. You wondered if she was friends with Tito, or if she had come to B.C. last summer and taken your place by Mat’s side. You wondered what would have happened if you had followed Mat to New York last year.

You would’ve followed Mat anywhere in the world once. Now, you were in the same city again, but you felt like you were worlds away from each other. You hoped whoever was on the other side of your wall couldn’t hear you crying. 

The Islanders came to Vancouver in February. You didn’t bother watching the game.

Soon, it was July again. You were going to a Canada Day party at a friend of a friend’s, and you were excited for it, for the chance to have fun on the lake for the day, just drinking and tanning. 

You didn’t know what impelled you to put on your cutest swimsuit, but you did it anyway. 

You’d barely walked into the backyard when someone barreled into you from behind, wrapping their arms around your waist and spinning you around. It took you a second, but you recognized the cheering voice as none other than Tyson Jost.

“Tyson, let go of me, holy shit,” you gasped. 

He did, but only long enough to turn you to face him and place his hands on your shoulders. He was out of breath and wasn’t wearing a shirt, but he was smiling at you.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” he said excitedly. 

You had forgotten that your mutual friends at the lake overlapped. And if Tyson were there, Mat probably was, too. In spite of yourself, you peered over Tyson’s shoulder. You didn’t know if you were looking for Mat so you could avoid him or because you wanted to talk to him. 

“I need a drink,” you muttered when you finally spotted him, down near the lakefront. 

Tyson raised an eyebrow at you, but pointed you in the direction of the alcohol anyway, before you were being dragged across the lawn to meet his sister. 

Kacey was in a conversation with Mat, because of course she was, and you stood by and awkwardly sipped your drink as Tyson jumped straight into the conversation. They seemed to be arguing over whether or not a hot dog could be considered a sandwich. 

Kacey was sweet, and she seemed fun, especially when you teamed up to roast Tyson, but soon she was being called by someone else, and Tyson followed, leaving you with Mat. You glared at his back as he went. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Mat said quietly, dragging his bare toes through the grass. 

“Hey,” you said, taking another sip of your drink. “You had a great season,” you offered. It was true; Mat had put up great numbers, and the team had made it into the second round of the playoffs again. 

Mat looked up at you, startled, like he hadn’t expected you to still keep up with him and his team. He flushed a little and ran his hand through his hair. It was shorter again, you noticed. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

It was awkward, and you hated it. You could hear all the voices of your friends and family in your head, telling you that you and Mat were meant for each other, would be together forever, but right now it was like talking to a stranger. 

“How’re your parents?” Mat asked.

You forced a smile. “They just got a puppy.” You had pictures of him on your phone, but you had left it inside the house. “Where’s Clara?” you asked, willing your voice to stay even.

Mat flushed again and wouldn’t meet your eyes. “We, uh, broke up,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Before Christmas,” he added.

Not long after you’d been in New York, you thought, but you knew better than to hope that you’d had anything to do with it. 

“Y/N! Barzy!” Josty yelled then, effectively ending your conversation. “Come play Spikeball!” You both groaned good-naturedly. 

Your hand brushed Mat’s as you walked towards Josty, but he flinched and took a step away from you.

You glared at Tyson again as you moved to stand next to him. “I hate you,” you hissed. 

Tyson feigned innocence and tossed the ball to you. 

You and Tyson beat Kacey and Mat, because it had been a while, but you weren’t undefeated as a team for nothing. You let Tyson pull you into a hug and tried to ignore how you felt Mat’s eyes on your back. 

Mat and Kacey moved on from the game, but Tyson was already busy trying to pull in your next opponent. You ended up staying on Spikeball for a while, long enough that you were sweaty and in desperate need of water as the sun beat down from overhead.

You left Tyson and wandered off in search of the cooler filled with water bottles. Mat was already there, and you nearly turned around. He was about to twist the top off of a water bottle as you approached, but he paused. 

“Here,” he said, holding it out to you. “I think I took the last cold one, and I think you need it more than me.” 

You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out at him, and instead just muttered a grateful, “Thanks,” as you opened the bottle and gulped some down.

“You and Tys were tearing it up out there,” Mat commented. You narrowed your eyes at him as you screwed the cap back on your water bottle. There was a note to his voice that sounded a lot like jealousy. 

“Yeah, Tyson’s great,” you said casually. “I’ve missed hanging out with him.” 

Mat’s jaw tightened. “I think I’m gonna go get a beer,” he said, brushing past you before you could respond. You blinked bemusedly after him. 

You didn’t see Mat again for a while. It seemed like you were both trying to avoid each other now and succeeding. 

You were laying out in the sun on one of those giant lake rafts, catching up with a friend from high school when a boy took a running leap off the dock and hit the water with a spectacular splash. Mat surfaced near you a moment later, flipping his wet hair out of his eyes. His chain was backwards, and your fingers itched to reach out and fix it. 

“6.5,” you deadpanned instead. “Good form, too much splash.”

Mat latched onto the raft you were on and rested his chin on his folded forearms. He grinned at you, and it hurt a little bit to have that blinding smile directed at you again. 

“You wound me,” Mat laughed. 

“You got me wet!”

“You’re in a lake, babe, you’re gonna get wet,” Mat said. To prove his point, he grabbed your ankle and dragged you off the raft and into the water. 

“Mathew!” you shrieked, only just managing to close your mouth before you went underwater. 

Mat was laughing when you came back up for air. You pouted at him, but you couldn’t help but grin as well when you heard the rest of your friends laughing too.

“Just like old times, eh?” Mat said, quietly so only you could hear. He was still smiling, but his eyes were sad. One of his hands had come up to rest on your waist as you both treaded water. 

You placed your hands on his shoulders and dunked him.

It was after dinner when you crossed paths again, though it wasn’t by coincidence this time. The sun was setting over the lake, and you were settling on a blanket to watch the fireworks with your friend. Mat came over, stood awkwardly in front of you for a moment before he spoke, his words rushed.

“Y/N, can we, uh, can we talk?”

You shared a look with your friend. Mat was picking at the label on his beer nervously. 

“Sure,” you sighed.

Mat held out a hand to help you up, but you ignored it and clambered to your feet on your own. He still waited as you brushed yourself off before he started walking, and you fell into step beside him. Mat led you away from the party, back up to the mostly deserted deck overlooking everyone.

Mat looked out over the railing, still fidgeting with the label on his beer bottle. You rested your elbows on the rail and matched Mat’s pose.

“You blocked me, didn’t you?” Mat blurted. You bit your lip but didn’t respond. “Because I tried calling you after I saw you in New York, and I texted you when we were in Vancouver, but I could never get through.” Mat’s voice sounded accusatory now, and you felt a rush of anger surge through you. 

“What else was I supposed to do, Mat?” you asked. “You moved on, and then you have the fucking nerve to text me and tell me you dumped me because some other girl was ‘easier?’” Your voice rose, but no one turned to look at you. You took a deep breath. Your hands were shaking, and you gripped the railing tightly to steady them.

“What were you even doing in New York, anyway?” Mat spits back, definitely angry now, too. “What were you planning on doing?”

Oh. Mat thought you’d come to New York to beg him to take you back. You laughed, but it came out bitter. “I was there for work, Mathew. The world doesn’t revolve around you, asshole.” Except yours did once, and still did a little, but you weren’t about to admit that.

You pushed off the railing and spun around, wanting to be as far away from Mat and this conversation as possible. But Mat grabbed your arm tightly, kept you in place. His fingers wrapped around your bicep entirely. His hand was warm against your bare skin, and you shivered in spite of yourself. 

“Wait,” Mat said. His voice had softened. “This is so not how this was supposed to go.” He still hadn’t let go of your arm, and you made yourself meet his eyes. In the twilight, they were dark grey, closer to green, that wonderful shade you used to wake up to in the mornings when he had snuck into your bed. The wind blew, and you shivered again. “Here,” Mat said, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders. 

It smelled like him, and you closed your eyes and let yourself breathe it in. 

“How was this supposed to go then, Mat?” you whispered.

Mat sighed. “I got scared,” he said. His eyes were on the stars as they appeared overhead. “Which is a terrible fucking excuse, I know. But we were 20 years old, and I’d never been in love before, and then suddenly everyone is saying we’re soulmates or whatever. And we’re talking about the future, and I just got scared. Scared I’d fuck up and lose you, which I did anyway. Scared of never knowing anything else, but it turned out I didn’t want anything else. 

“I went back to New York without you, and I missed you. I broke up with you, and I missed you even more. But I didn’t know what to do to get you back. I can’t tell you the number of times Beau called me an idiot.” Mat broke off, shaking his head. “And then I met Clara, and, yeah, it was easier. But only because no one, not even us, saw a future there. I didn’t have to listen to everyone saying that we’d be together forever, but that’s all I wanted to hear.”

You had been quiet while Mat rambled, playing with a loose thread on the cuff of his jacket. He broke off then, took a swig of his beer, then made a face because it had gotten warm. You couldn’t help but laugh, and Mat looked surprised, but pleased.

“I missed talking to you on the phone every night,” you started. “Even when you called, you weren’t there, not really. I could tell something was off, but we were on opposite sides of the continent. I wanted to believe that you were just busy or something, but there was nothing I could do about it.” Mat’s face twisted, into something sad and pained, and he made a move like he wanted to take your hand. He didn’t, though, just rested it next to your arm on the railing. “I still sleep in one of your hoodies sometimes,” you admitted. 

It was Mat’s turn to laugh. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you in, and you didn’t resist.

“God, I was so stupid,” Mat groaned. You hummed in response, and Mat pinched your arm. “Do you think we could ever try this again?” he asked.

You looked up at Mat. Everything about his face was familiar– his jawline, his nose, his eyes– but older now. A lot had happened since the last time you felt like you really knew Mat, for both of you. Neither of you were the same person you’d been before.

“I hated all that fucking small talk earlier, by the way,” he added. “I can’t believe I did that to myself. Asking the only girl I’ve ever loved about her parents as if we barely know each other.”

You leaned into Mat more. “What about you being jealous of Josty,” you teased. “Can we talk about that?” Mat’s arm tightened around your shoulders, but when you looked up at him he was smiling. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Mat said. You giggled, and Mat’s face relaxed.

“Did you mean it?” you whispered.

“What? That you’re the only girl I’ve ever loved?” Mat pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I have loved you since I was 20 years old, Y/N, and I think I’ll still love you in another 20, and another 20 after that.” He brushed a kiss against both of your cheekbones. 

His face was very close to yours, and even in the dark you could see that his eyes were suddenly full of hope. He brushed his nose against yours. You surged forward to press your lips against his. Mat smiled into the kiss as you turned and wrapped your arms around his neck. He tasted like beer and sunscreen, like summer and coming home. 

The first firework went off above you; Mat’s hands tightened on your hips. Below you, people cheered. Mat pulled back and rested his forehead against yours. 

“I love you,” you murmured, and then Mat was kissing you again, his hands warm against your lower back where they had slid under your shirt.

And just like that, you felt yourself falling in love under the fireworks over Lake Okanagan all over again. 

[obeyme-headcanons]

Now this is something I really want to do in the game. And I'm so dissapointed that we cant. So....I've written it down!! :)

What if MC helped clear ALL of Mammon's debts??

A/N: Much fluff, a G/N MC, and possible TWs.

TW: Much fluff, blood, some cursing, mean witches 😡, some bullying, and a wholesome baby Mammon 💛.

Please enjoy!! :) 💛

Mammon comes into your room all bloody and bruised. He staggers a bit before plopping on your bed next to you.

"M-Mammon...are you okay??" You question. You hear a muffled grunt from your left side.

"Mammon? Who did this to you?" You hear silence. Mammon must not want to answer. You think about who could've done this. His brother's are abusive, but only mentally. No lesser demon would dare mess with the second-born. Hmm. Wait, wasn't Mammon summoned by the witches earlier? It must have been them. They're always attacking him in some way,

"Mammon? Did the witches do this to you," you ask. "Please tell me the truth." The second you finish, Mammon lifts his head to you, and you see tears running down his face. From his reaction, it's safe to say the witches did it.

"Why would the witches do this?"

"It because of my DAMN debt!! I don't know what I did to them...*sniff* I never even met them before they came up and told me I owed them!!"

Poor Mammoney. He didn't deserve this. Every day, he either came back with nothing, bruised and bloodied or so emotional. Mammon kept talking about the witches, and what they'd do to him. He was spiling his heart out.

"And one time...OH!! I can't forget about...then they said..." Mammon kept going. Eventually, he stopped talking, realizing what he'd just said. You getting more furious, you kept thinking if a plan to get Mammoney out of debt. Getting more furious at the witches with each of Mammon's words, you can't think of anything. So you decide to try and make him feel better at least,

You fix Mammon up, get him emotionally stable and watch his favorite movie. He rests his head on your shoulder, and you die inside. How the hell is he so cute?! You slowly take out your D.D.D, set the brightness all the way down, and snap a few pictures. You head over to devilgram, of course stopping by your settings to update your wallpaper, and scroll around. You find a certain demon's page, supposedly the owner of ristorante six, and scroll.

You see a post of the demon stating that they need more workers. The pay seemed pretty good! 10 hours a day for 10k Grimm! Sure, it'd be hard. And painful and annoying. But you already had quite bit of Grimm saved up. About 666k (😈) to be exact. And you'd do anything to see him smile. So you DM the demon and ask for an interview. They accepted and wanted to see you the next day after 2. You smiled and sighed, praying to Lord Diavolo you could get the job.

"Hey, human. Where are ya going?" Of course Mammon had to barge in. Not that you hated it, now just wasn't a good time. All dressed up, you glance around nervously.

"Ahh, I'm just...going..." You couldn't find the words. You had to make up an excuse for this man. "Ahhuumm..."

"Jeez human. Just say you're going out! It's not that hard, ya know?" He sighed. With his hands on his hips, he pauses, and walks out. You're confused, but understand when he comes back with your backpack.

"H-Here you go. Sorry I took it. I was looking for Goldie-"

"It's okay Mammon." You walk over, kiss him on the cheek and walk out the door. His face turns red and he's very glad you walked out. After he's calmed down, he knows something is up. Everytime you go out together, you never dress up. Are you going to see someone? Do you not like him?? His thoughts spiral until he convinces himself that even if you did find someone, at least they made you happy. Not like a scummy, stupid brother would be able to do the job. But hey, he could hope. Right?

"So that's why you want this job..." and you nod. You see them ponder for a moment. "Okay. You're hired!!" You jump. It was unexpected and surprisingly very easy. You thank them over and over again and ask them when you can start.

"Right now if you're up for it! We're short on staff today, so I'm paying whoever works a little more today." You eagerly nod, and you're shown to the staff room. You put on your apron, and get to work. At the end of the day, you get 2k more than you should have. And including the tips you form in total you got 15k Grimm. Not bad for a first day! Exhausted, sweaty and hungry, you walk home with a coworker and head inside.

It's a good thing no one was awake. You make it to your bed and melt. To help pay off his debts and give him a little extra money, you're going to have to work-overtime. Meaning you can't hang out with the brothers anymore. Especially Mammon.

"Sorry Mammon..." You whisper, before falling into sleep.

It's been 5 months since you've started working. Luckily, Mammon had also been trying to pay off his debts. Which has helped you alot, but now you have enough money to help pay Mammon's debts off. But you're tired, and he can wait until morning, right? You slowly walk home and luckily no demons come to pick on you. You thank Lord Diavolo. You slowly open the door so it won't creak.

Luckily no one is awake. Except for Lucifer and Beel. You practically zombie walked into your room because you were so tired. Your about to open your door, but you hear a small sob. You stop in your tracks and listen.

"T-They don't love me. Why would they? I'm just a s-scummy second-born..." it sounded like Mammon. And by what they said, it confirmed your beliefs. And you're pretty sure he was taling about you. You open your door and walk in. Mammon looks up at you in surprise.

"Y-You weren't supposed to be back for another hour." He says while sloppily wiping off his tears.

"Well, they let me go early," You respond. You need to tell him. "Mammon..I have something really good to tell you. I-"

"Save it human. I already know, I don't want any details."

"You do? Mammon, isn't it wondererful?! Now you won't be bullied by your brother's or the witches!"

"If anything, they'll bully me more..."

"W-Why would they continue...?"

"Because they know I love you," he slams his head onto a pillow that oddly looks a lot like you. " And now you're going out with someone. I don't want any details. But...do they treat ya well?" His head pops back up, and you can see the tears in his eyes. His question hurt. Why would he think that?

"Going out with someone? Why would you think th-" you finally connect it all together. Leaving at 2 to get home at 12, if not later. Always dressing up and giving Mammon less and less time and attention to Mammon. It doesn't help that this has been going on for 5 months. And now that you got your last paycheck, you thanked them, quit and wished them well. You were free of that hell.

"Mammon, I'm not seeing anyone." You walk closer to him and rest you're hand on his cheek, and he blushes a little.

"Then why were you gone so much?"

"Silly demon. I was helping you pay off your debts!"

"You what...?" You could see the confusion in his eyes. But you also saw a glimmer of hope.

"That's right. I was gone for 5 months to help you pay of your debts to your brother's and the witches! And...I may have put a little money of Goldie."

"B-But why?" He realized there was no reason to lie about this. His eyes lit up and he perked up. But he was still so very confused.

"Because, I see what they do to you. And you just take it, like a man." He blushes at the word 'man', but gladly takes your compliment. You climb onto your bed, make room for him and pat the side next to you.

"Now come on Mammon. I'm tired, and I need snuggles." He blushes but gladly climbs in. He wraps his body around yours, pretty much pretty much protecting you from anything to come.

"Goodnight Mammon..." You whisper, before falling into the best sleep you've ever had.

The next day, Mammon is more than ready to pay off his debts. He pays off the witches and each of his brothers. You loved the look he had on his face. The witches could no longer attack him and his brother's could no longer verbally abuse his either. At the end of the day, he was excited to find out he had 500k Grimm on his card. He thanked you and pulled you into the biggest hug ever.

"Thank you MC...I feel more safe than I have been in decades." The comment made you sad, but made you smile. No one could hurt him, because you'd be there to protect him.

"I love you Mammoney...💛💛"

"I love you MC..." And you share a tender kiss.

The end~!!

Did you enjoy it? Give me more ideas please! My brain is too smol. Bye my little Grimm!!

💖 💛 💚 💙 💜 🖤

[diazbuckleys]

always looking for ways to love you

post 4.13, comfort and confessions

wc: 1800

Eddie can tell he's lying in a hospital cot before he even opens his eyes. He knows the scent of it by heart; that stark smell of Purell, body odor, and death, so strong it burns his nostrils. And then, the feel of starched sheets against his fingers. That terrible, burning pain, ripping through his right shoulder.

"Edmundo," a soft voice says, and Eddie opens his eyes.

It's Ana. Of course it is. No one else ever calls him by his birth name. There's something comforting in the way she says it, but it's also painfully familiar. He can still hear his father's voice ringing in his ears when he had told his parents about his plan to leave their hometown with Chris in tow. Edmundo, don't do this. You're making a terrible mistake.

He opens his eyes, and he really looks at her. And he feels that sharp, shameful stab of disappointment. She really is very beautiful.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she says, and Eddie realizes she's been crying. "God-I really wondered for a moment whether you were going to wake up."

“Yeah," Eddie manages, his voice coming out in a weak croak that he's too exhausted to care about. "Yeah, I'm still here."

She squeezes his hand, where her thin fingers are threaded through his.

He sits up suddenly, blinking away the sleep and the heavy pain in his shoulder. "Is Chris...?"

"Asleep. Carla took him home a few hours ago. He wanted to stay, but, you know. It's getting late."

"Oh. Thank you." He looks around the room. It's sparse and dreary like they always are, with only a pair of plastic cushioned chairs in the corner and one large window with the blinds drawn. He wonders what time it is, how long it's been since the accident.

Slowly, inevitably, Eddie's mind starts drifting to Buck. He remembers pieces of the attack; Buck being tackled by Captain Mehta, as people screamed and ducked for cover all around them. In retrospect, Buck had probably laid on the ground across from him for only a few minutes. But in the moment it had felt like time had slowed. It had felt like they were the only two people in the world.

Ana seems to notice his distraction, and squeezes his hand again. "I let a nurse know you were awake. She should be over in a few minutes."

He smiles at her, feeling another piece of that piercing guilt. A part of Eddie wishes he could love her in the way he should. But he can't; he knows that now.

"Thank you, Ana. I'm glad you're here."

She looks at him questioningly. Despite everything, she has always been good at telling when something is wrong. "But?"

Eddie thinks about Buck on the ground, staring at Eddie soundlessly as blood dripped from his face and onto his clean white shirt. Eddie thinks about reaching out to him in the final moments before his eyes slipped shut, thinking I'm going to die, and he'll never know how I feel, or about any of it. But Eddie's alive, and so is Buck.

"But-I can't do this. I think you know that."

Ana, sweet Ana Flores, lets go of his hand with a sad smile. She sighs, like she's coming to terms with something she had tried to forget.

Finally, she says; "Yes, Edmundo. I know."

Eddie reaches for her hand again, soft and warm, and holds onto it tightly. "I'm sorry. I didn't want-I didn't mean for it to happen this way.

Ana gives him that sad smile again. "Oh, Eddie. You can't choose where your heart goes. It hurts, but I'm just sorry I didn't realize it sooner."

Eddie frowns. His head is still pounding, and every part of him wants to fall back into the comforts of sleep. Instead, he props himself up on his elbows and blinks his eyes open. "Realize what?"

"That you already have a family. You have Chris. You have Buck."

It's the first time either of them have acknowledged it out loud, and Eddie swallows a lump in his throat.

"A family?

She lets go of his hand, carefully. “Do me a favor, Eddie? Don't mess it up. For my sake."

"I won't," Eddie says, throat stuck with emotion. But there's one more thing he has to ask. "And, um. Is he here?"

Ana frowns. "I'm sorry. They're all still trying to track down whoever it was that attacked you."

Eddie's face falls, and he lets himself collapse back into the sheets. If Buck is out there with the shooter- even the thought makes Eddie's chest constrict.

"Edmundo," Ana says, tone surprisingly firm, "he's going to be okay."

Eddie nods. Of course he is. It's Buck. He has to be.

"I'm really glad you're here," he says again, grateful.

"Good luck, Eddie Diaz," she says in lieu of a response, and smiles at him before she goes, like she really, really means it.

*******

At some point after a smiling nurse enters the room, checks his vitals, and declares him "in recovery", Eddie falls asleep again. He dreams about blood spilling on the open road, the St. Christopher pendant clattering against the pavement as he fell. Buck's blue eyes, wide with terror, staring, staring, staring.

*******

And then, some indeterminable number of hours later, he's awake again. This time, the sound that drags him to the surface of consciousness isn't a voice, but the steady beat of the hospital machinery. A sign that he's still here, breathing, despite everything.

Someone else is holding his hand. Eddie feels the strong, calloused fingers gripping him tightly, and he almost wants to sob. He's okay. He came back to me.

"Hey there," Buck says, and a thousand pounds of grief and worry lift from Eddie's shoulders.

"Hi," Eddie says, and cracks a sleepy smile up at Buck. Evan Buckley, Firefighter, friend, the fucking love of Eddie's life.

Eddie blinks a little in the harsh light. “What time is it? What day is it?"

Buck leans down to check his watch, and Eddie wonders distantly where it came from, or if he had just never noticed it before. He thinks that maybe becoming more observant is something he should work on. "11:27 PM, Tuesday. Three days since you were shot."

"And the shooter?" Eddie presses. "Did you find him?"

Buck shakes his head, still clutching tightly to Eddie's hand. "Nope, still on the lookout. But Cap thought it was more important that I be here."

Eddie feels a little lightheaded and dizzy at the words. Buck's here, real and breathing in front of him. Holding his hand.

He looks terrible, Eddie notices. His eyes are bloodshot, dark circles resting underneath them. His hair is a blond, tangled mess, and his tee shirt has a coffee stain around the collar. Eddie thinks suddenly about how truly awful the shooting must have been for Buck. He wonders if he was able to get all of the blood out of his shirt.

"I brought Christopher with me," Buck says when Eddie doesn't speak. "He and Carla are both passed out in the hallway."

Eddie sighs. "Thanks, Buck. I hate for him to see me like this."

Buck nods, and strokes his thumb over the back of Eddie's hand, in a slow, hypnotizing rhythm. He looks like he's trying to gather the courage to say something.

"Look, man," Buck starts abruptly, "I'm sorry. I should have done better."

It takes everything within Eddie not to take hold of Buck by the shoulders and shake him.

"Buck. Stop it, seriously. You did everything right."

"No, Eddie. Let me just-"

Fuck. Buck's voice is breaking. Eddie can't even remember the last time he saw him cry.

"I'm fucking sorry, man. I saw you get shot, and I just couldn't move. It was like I was frozen, watching the bullet hit you, watching you fall. And later I kept thinking about Chris, and how terrible it would have been if we-if he had lost you. Telling him what happened, after you got hurt, when we didn't know if you were going to make it-that was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. He kept on just looking at me, and fuck. I had to tell him that-and I didn't know-"

Buck's crying. Full on crying, and all Eddie can do is stare.

"Um." Buck says a moment later, clearing his throat with an embarrassed flush, and wiping furiously at his eyes. "Anyway. Sorry. You deserve better, and I just-"

"Evan Buckley," Eddie says with conviction, and that shuts Buck up.

"I don't know what it will take for me to get this through your head, but you are not a disappointment. You didn't do anything wrong. I have no fucking idea what I'd do without you, actually. So please, don't try to tell me you're not good enough for me, or that you should have done better. Because you are good enough. You are. Okay?"

"Okay," Buck says, and then they're quiet. The clock over the doorway ticks slowly. Outside, the overcast sky has started to rain.

Buck rubs one hand over his tired eyes. "I just care about you, so much, Eddie. And the fact that there was even a possibility I wasn't going to get to see you again, and laugh at your stupid jokes and eat your terrible dinners-I couldn't take it."

And, goddamnit, Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever loved anyone like he loves Buck.

"I'm sorry too, that I made you worry. But I'm still here."

Buck smiles. "We're quite the pair, aren't we?"

"Shut up," Eddie retorts, laughing, "you love me."

Buck stills at that, fidgeting with Eddie's hand, but refuses to meet him in the eye.

"You know," Eddie says slowly, suddenly feeling brave, "Carla said something to me the other day, about following my heart. And then Ana was in here earlier, and I, uh. Ended things."

Buck sits up straight at that. "You broke up with her? Why?"

"Because," Eddie says. "Because-"

Buck kisses him. They're only sitting inches away from each other, but it feels like Buck's bridged a gap. Reached across a mountainous valley and pulled Eddie over to the other side.

Buck's lips taste like salt, and Eddie realizes one of them must be crying but he isn't sure who. They're both smiling, even if there are tears, too. It's sort of the most perfect thing Eddie has ever experienced.

Buck kisses him, and it feels like everything has fallen into place.

Eddie doesn't want to pull away, but he does anyway. He was just shot, after all, and already he’s feeling dizzy. He imagines there will be plenty more kisses in their future, ones that don't take place in stiff hospital beds. He hopes so, anyway.

"I love you, you know," Eddie says when he catches his breath. He feels like he's fifteen and he's just kissed a girl outside of their school gymnasium. He already wants to kiss Buck again.

Buck grins. "God, I love you too. But, Eds, please do me a favor."

"Yeah?”

"Try not to get shot again."

[hailperseusjackson]

Fanfic: hey brother

here is the hera and howzer bonding fic that nobody asked for, but refused to leave my head anyway! @milf-herasyndulla , this one is for you bestie <33

fandom: the bad batch

rating: gen

warnings: none (some minor discussions of death, but nothing explicit)

wordcount: 2k

you can also read here on ao3!

::

Hera sat with her legs tucked up to her chest, one arm across her knees, the other halfheartedly poking a stick into the fire. Hitting a spot that shifted some of the coals, she watched glowing orange sparks dance into the air, bright against the star-filled night sky.

The one good thing about this new base—the rocky outcropping had a great view.

She could hear voices and equipment being moved around in the hangar behind her, and laughter floated to her from the other side of the outcropping, where a few other Twi’leks and clones were taking a break. With her father gone on another scouting mission, she knew she should be helping her mother hand out rations and supplies inside the base. But she was sick of handing out food and blankets. She knew it was important—every little bit counted, her mother often reminded her. And it was their job to help those in need.

And Hera wanted to help. But she wanted to do it out there. She wanted to fly. Or fight, or do something besides stay in the shelter of this base.

She felt helpless. And the last time she’d felt like this—no.

She squeezed her eyes shut, blacking out the stars and the glow of Ryloth’s moons as she inhaled deeply. She wasn’t going to think about that day. But the tightness in her chest didn’t ease, and she could feel her eyes starting to burn.

In through the nose, out through the mouth, slowly. In and out, she breathed. When her shoulders felt lighter again, she opened her eyes, focusing on the first star she could pick out on the horizon.

“Hey, kid.”

Hera tried not to scowl at the familiar voice sounding behind her. Whoever said all clones sounded the same clearly hadn’t spent enough time around them. She would recognize Howzer’s low, gentle tone blindfolded.

Sure enough, when she turned her head, the clone captain was taking a seat next to her, leaning back against the wall of the outcropping. His helmet was off, and the longer curls on top of his head stirred in the slight breeze.

“Hi,” she responded, a little more sulkily than she’d meant to. She buried her chin into the crook of her arm, trying to hide her frustrated frown. Ever since the day of the attack a couple months ago, her parents were checking on her constantly. And they’d definitely told Hozwer to do the same, because he came to see how she was doing at least once a day when he wasn’t out on the front lines. And he always spoke in that gentle voice, like he was trying not to spook a wounded blurrg.

“Hungry?” Howzer asked, offering her a ration bar.

“Nope.”

“Suit yourself.” His armor creaked as he shrugged his shoulders. “More for me then.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, Howzer chewing quietly beside her.

Hera sighed.

Relenting, because she actually was hungry, she said, “What kind do you have?”

“Just the boring regular ones, unfortunately. But I do have half a chocolate bar left, if you’d rather have that.”

Hera turned her eyes on him. “Really?”

Howzer gave her a little smile, the motion tugging at the scars on his jaw and chin. “Won it off Skipper in a game of Sabaac. Already took a couple bites out of it, so I hope you don’t mind.”

She shook her head and took the chocolate from Howzer’s outstretched hand. She took a bite, humming as the sweetness coated her tongue. “Thanks,” she mumbled.

“Sure thing, kid.”

“Don’t call me that.” When he called her kid it made her feel like he was trying to be her brother. But she didn’t need another brother. She had a brother, and he was perfect, and he was—

Gone. He was gone.

The chocolate suddenly tasted bitter in her mouth.

“Sorry, Hera,” Howzer replied, in that same, stupid quiet tone. Like if he spoke any louder he would scare her or break her or something. “Say, where’s that droid of yours? Some of the boys were saying he ran over their toes earlier for calling Y-Wings shitty ships—oh, kriff—oh, no, I mean—shoot. Uh. I meant bad ships…”

She barely heard Howzer stumble over his words. It was automatic as she said, “Needed his power cells recharged.”

“Ah, gotcha.” A pause. Then, “Hera? You all right?”

She shot to her feet, dropping the chocolate and glaring at the captain. “Stop talking to me like that! I’m so sick of everyone treating me like I’m just a little kid who can’t handle anything!”

A few nearby Twi’leks paused what they were doing to stare, but Hera didn’t care.

Howzer raised his hands in surrender, but didn’t get to his feet. “Hera—”

She pressed on, cheeks hot. “I’m sure my mom sent you up here to talk to me and make me feel better or whatever, well guess what. I’m a big girl and I can forget about what happened just like they did. No more dead brother if we don’t talk about him, right?”

Silence.

She vaguely saw Howzer wave off any onlookers, barely heard the crackling of the fire or bustle of the camp past the roaring of blood in her ears.

It was suddenly hard to breathe, which reminded her all too much of that dusty caved in cavern after her father’s last base of operation had been shelled by Seperatists. She still remembered how hoarse her voice had gotten as she’d screamed for help, screamed for her brother when she spotted one of his shoes next to a giant pile of boulders blocking an exit tunnel. Her brother had been nowhere in sight.

Hours later, after Commander Ponds’ and Captain Howzer’s units had rescued the survivors and gone through all the rubble, she’d seen the limp body of her little brother cradled in her father’s arms. When she’d heard her mother scream—a wailing, broken sound Hera had heard before on Ryloth during the war, but never from her own mother—that’s when she’d known.

Since that day, maybe four months ago now, her parents had barely uttered a word about it. It was like her brother had never existed.

“Hera.” Howzer’s voice floated to her through the haze of memories. It was that same gentle tone, but it was—clearer, somehow.

It worked. Her anger flowed away like water down a mountainside. In its place—an aching sadness.

Tears sprang to her eyes, hot and burning. She slumped back down to the ground, once again tucking her knees up and crossing her arms on top. Forehead falling against her folded arms, she started to cry.

For a moment, there was nothing except the echo of her sobs down into the canyon.

Then, Howzer placed a hand on her shoulder. He gave a comforting squeeze before letting go. “I’m not trying to replace your brother, you know,” he said quietly. “I know it might feel like it, me checking in on you and all. But I’m doing it because I care. Not because your parents are making me.”

She sniffled, wiping the back of her hand across her nose and lifting her head. “They didn’t ask you to come check on me?”

Howzer shook his head. “Nope. I’m just checking in on my friend. We are friends, right?”

Hera wiped at her tears some more, and smiled. “Yeah. We’re friends.”

“Then here.” Howzer reached over and picked up the remainder of the chocolate bar she’d dropped. He dusted it off as best he could, before giving up and breaking off the part with dirt on it. “The last little bit was inside the wrapper, so it should be fine.”

She took it gratefully, popping the last bite in her mouth, and giving Howzer a quizzical look as he opened his own mouth to eat the rest.

“What?” he shrugged. “A little dirt never hurt anyone.”

She giggled. He grinned back at her, eating the chocolate with only a slight grimace on his face.

For a few minutes, they sat in comfortable silence. Hera started poking at the fire with her stick again, trying to get rid of the sadness in her body through sheer force of will.

Suddenly, Howzer said, “I’ve lost brothers, too.”

Hera turned her head to look at him. He suddenly looked much older than he ever had before. The sadness on his face seemed to match the sadness she felt on the inside. She scooted back, copying his posture and leaning against the wall.

“You have a lot of brothers, though.”

One corner of his mouth twitched, like he wanted to smile. But his eyes stayed fixed on the sky. “I do have a lot of brothers, yeah. But losing one doesn’t mean he’s replaced with another. We’re all different. So when I lose a brother, it hurts just as bad every time. Worse, sometimes, because I’m their captain. I’m supposed to protect them, and it hurts when I can’t.”

Hera looked up at the sky like Howzer, thinking about that. She only had one brother, and it hurt more than anything ever had before to lose him. She couldn’t imagine having to feel that kind of hurt and sorrow the way Howzer did every time one of his brothers died.

Digging into the inside pocket of her jacket, she pulled out a multicolored bracelet made of woven leather. She studied it in her palm for a moment, blinking away the memory of her mother gingerly taking it off her brother’s wrist so Hera could have it.

“Here,” she whispered, tapping his arm. “I want you to have this.”

He reached for the bracelet, then hesitated. “What is it?”

“It was my brother’s. I made it for him.”

“I—I can’t take that, Hera. It’s too important to you.”

“But you’re important to me, too,” she insisted. “My brother will live forever on our Kalikori, so I want you to have this.”

Still, Howzer hesitated. “But—why?”

Hera grabbed his hand and dropped the leather bracelet into his palm. “Because we both know what it’s like to lose a brother. This is a reminder that we still have each other. Right?”

Howzer stared at the bracelet, then at her. She swore she saw tears shining in his eyes as he smiled at her. “Right.”

She helped him secure the bracelet below the armor plate on his forearm, where it would stay safe.

Hera leaned her head against Howzer’s shoulder. “Sorry for yelling at you.”

“Apology accepted. And I’m sorry, too—I need to be better about reminding myself that just because you’re a kid doesn’t mean you can’t handle yourself.”

“You know what would really make it up to me?”

“Hm?”

She tilted her chin up at him, grinning. “Taking me flying.”

Howzer chuckled. “Oh, absolutely not. Your parents didn’t send me to come talk to you, but they would most certainly have my shebs for that.”

“Ugh, fine.” She jutted out her bottom lip in a pout.

“Maybe one day, vod’ika,” he promised. Hera wasn’t sure what that last word meant, but it sounded nice.

“I’m gonna be the best pilot in the whole galaxy one day,” she told him earnestly, leaning her head back against his shoulder.

“I bet you will, kid.”

This time, she didn’t bother correcting him when he called her kid.

Maybe, if Howzer could have more than one brother, she could too.

[soft-for-them]

frumpkin ♡ caleb widogast x reader

Annon🪐: Hey!! I saw your post about writing for critical role and got so excited, always happy to have more writers! I'd love to see a Caleb x reader where he comforts the reader during a panic attack. I don't really have a preference as to headcanons vs one-shots, so whichever you’d prefer. Hope I didn't miss anything, thanks!

Anyone can read this, can be platonic or romantic, it’s based on my own panic attacks so sorry if it’s a bit specific, not proof read like usual.

Panic attacks have always plagued your life, it’s a thing you have unfortunately learnt to live with.

You know all the breathing exercises and mind tricks to get you out of an attack but really all you ever want when you feel the nervous feeling of panic rile up in you is a friend to talk to. For trying to stop a panic attack by yourself never truly works. You always find that stopping a panic attack by yourself makes you feel down for the rest of the day.

When you were a teenager you had ran away from your home to the circus, taken in by the half elf Gustav Fletching. For the first couple of years you helped the circus folk set up tents and decorate, then you found your love for art (no matter how good or bad you are at it).

Many years later you still helped out with the big top but you had become a portrait artist getting extra money from the patrons that came to the shows.

When you were around twenty or so you had met Mollymauk Tealeaf and Yasha Nydoorin.

The blood hunter and barbarian had always had their own ways of calming you down before you could have a full on panic attack but neither of them have ever seen you have a proper one.

Molly is always the type of person who would tell you stories to try to get you to calm down and Yasha would always try and stay near you becoming a shoulder to cry on if need be. However, none of them have ever seen you pace up and down whilst tears stream down your face and your hands shake in absolute discomfort.

No, they have never seen you fully break down.

Your panic attacks have almost disappeared since joining the Mighty Nein, since your found family has grown bigger. Yeah, you miss the carnival but you now feel like you’re doing something with your life now that you’re on this journey.

The Nein and you have all be travelling, in between quests, the canopy of the forest lighting the squiggly path to the next town. Right now you are setting up you tent that looks like a mini high top, the happy memories of your carnival days flooding your brain.

The tent is big enough for three or four people, depending on how bulky someone is. Normally it’s you, Mollymauk and Yasha snuggled in the tent much like you’re used to.

With a good meal in you and the sun setting you take the first watch, watching the orange sun blending in with purple that the night sky brings.

Soon enough Fjord taps you on your shoulder telling you softly that you watch is up.

With a soft smile you give him a small hug and a hearty goodnight, wishing him a peaceful sleep. The tall half orc only splutters out a ‘You too, goodnight (y/n).’

You have developed a soft spot for the half orc. You hug him once more him now sitting down and you bending down to do so you say your finale goodnight.

It’s a short walk to your tent, it’s very hard to miss, the patched up striped reds and pokkadot patterns stand out even in the dimming lights of the night. With a long stretch, your arms raised above your head, you walk into the tent Molly already in his corner of the tent.

‘To bed this early?’ you muse as you take off your boots and light armour.

‘Need my beauty sleep.’ He jokes sipping on a little flask presumably of some strong alcohol.

‘Well sleeping does help with beauty sleep.’ You joke back as you like down in the middle of the tent, leaving a gap to you over side for Yasha or any other person who feels like sleeping inside your tent (though it’s always been you, Molly and Yasha inside the colourful tent.)

For a while the two of you talk, mostly on the subject of setting up Yasha and Beau up like the good friends you both are but soon the talk turns to who Molly might want to set you up with.

‘You fancy someone don’t you?’ he teases knowing full well that you do have a thing for someone in the Mighty Nein.

‘Shut up Molly!’ you mutter turning away from him and snuggling into your covers.

Your try to sleep but he keeps on talking.

‘Is it… Caleb, you two share a similar quiet and shy nature, though you actually wash.’

You ignore him.

‘Or Fjord? I think he likes you and your hugs?’

You cover you head with your blanket.

‘Oh, are you into one of the lovely women of the group, Jester has been spending a lot of time around you lately?’

‘Mollymauk Tealeaf I will smother you if you don’t let me sleep!’

The purple tiefling chuckles but drops the questing, allowing you to fall asleep.

.

.

You wake up in fear, cold sweat dripping down your neck and back, the white of your shirt surly soaked. Your eyes shift around quickly to the people sleeping soundly in your tent. Molly is were he was before, deep in his beauty sleep. However, you are now sandwiched in between him and Yasha.

She must have fished her shift for she is fast asleep stealing part of your blanket.

 Your breathing is laboured and you feel weak.

‘It was only a dream (y/n).’ you try to reason with yourself, sitting up and throwing the rest of your blanket onto Yasha.

Surely you can’t wake them up now, right?

The feeling you have is panic but you aren’t in a full blow panic attack yet, Molly and Yasha know what to do to calm you down. But they are asleep and you fear that if you wake any of them that they’d be angry with you.

They certainly won’t be angry with you but your brain says untrue things to you when your panicky.

First you try some breathing exercises.

They do not work.

You then try and search around for your sketchbook. Jester had drawn a cartoon of you and her in it that automatically makes you feel happy.

You can’t find the book in the dark.

You truly don’t want to wake up Molly or Yasha, you really don’t.

So, you scramble out of your tent, no shoes or coat, you just need to get out.

The cold early morning air hits you, the sun not even up yet but the moon low in the sky.

 When you had first met the Nein you had tried to get to know everyone, despite your more introverted nature compared to the more colourful characters of the group. One night you had helped Nott pick pocket a rich man, not your greatest moment but it was very fun.

Out on that little stealing adventure Nott had said something that has stuck with you.

‘Sometimes just walking about outside calms me down, stealing helps as well.’ The stealing part might not help you but the walking part might.

With socked feet and hands stimming you begin to walk towards where you were earlier taking watch.

Molly, Yasha or Fjord won’t be there but there must be someone there to talk to before your start to cry.

The short walk towards the watch area seems like you’re walking a mile and your breaths start to become even more infrequent, you forgetting to breath out when you inhale a large breath. Tears begin to rim your eyes and your hands carry on shaking.

You’re not going to make it to whoever is on watch, you are going to break.

You stop and drop to the floor, legs crossed and hands going to you face, wiping away the now falling tears that don’t seem to stop. In this sitting down position you begin to slowly rock back and forward, tiny sobs escaping your lips.

Unknown to you the place you have decided to sit down and cry in is near enough to the person on watch that they can hear your sobs.

 Caleb stands up, looking over the camp, seeing you breaking down on the forest floor.

He has no clue what to properly do.

Normally he is alone when he had any kind of panic attack but then he realises something. The last couple of attacks he has personally had Nott was actually around to help him. Nott was always there to calm him down with cuddles and calm words.

Could he go and get Nott?

No, that would get more attention on the panicked you.

Who else helps him?

Frumpkin!

Caleb quickly summons the cat familiar and he points over to you.

‘Go over to (y/n), ya?’ the Bengal cat nudges his head into Caleb’s legs then pounces off to the crying you.

As soft lump steps into your lap and nudges to hand covered face with its soft fur.

You nervously take down a hand to see Frumpkin nudging you in the way only cats do. He pauses for a moment but proceeds to carry on nudging you when he still sees tears dripping down your face.

Your breathing hitches but there is some kind of clarity as the cat nuzzles the wetness of your cheeks almost like he’s purposely wiping away your tears.

‘…Frumpkin…’ tears well up again but not in sadness per say, it’s a combination of still being panicky but also happiness that the ginger cat is trying to calm you down.

Your arms snake around the slim cat in a small cuddle, you still rocking just a bit.

‘D-did Caleb send you?’ you whisper to the cat in your arms, knowing the answer to the question.

Once your wobbly words are spoken you look up to see a nervous looking Caleb standing near. He fidgets a bit, not looking you in the eyes, though you aren’t looking at him directly either.

‘May I sit down meine liebste?‘ he asks. All you do is nod your head.

He sits down about a body away from you but you automatically nudge up to him so your legs are touching, Frumpkin purring at the two of you.

Your breathing is still a bit funny, a breath being held in. Caleb pauses as he, his hand stops pats Frumpkin’s head.

‘Let your breath out, breath.’ you look at Caleb and try to match his breathing.

‘Thank you, Caleb.’you eventually say.

Your body is still hunched over but you have calmed down, the panic attack has passed, which is very different to normal.

‘Not need to thank me (y/n), no need to thank me.’ He takes his had off of Frumpkin’s head and pats your knee, albeit a bit awkwardly but it gets you both looking up to each other.

You give him a small smile which makes his ear turn red in a blush.

‘C-can I take watch with you for a while?’ you ask.

‘Ya, we can watch the sun rise together.’

.

.

.

i had a bit of a hard time formatting it so sorry if it looks odd.

also, please send in some more critical role requests! (do mind that i’m new to listening to campaign two.)

[soulmate-game]

It had been a trip to Metropolis. Why would Francois-Dupoint go to Gotham, a crime-ridden city crawling with danger and supervillains, vigilantes that toed the line of being bad influences, and a really high chance of lawsuit, when they could go to the city of Superman himself?

Exactly. No good reason.

At least, that was what they all thought. Marinette’s parents even volunteered to chaperone, deciding that they could survive shutting the bakery down for one week. Marinette had helped raise enough money for the trip that the school could compensate them a bit for their time, and their food, hotel, and plane were all paid for. It was supposed to be a great trip. One to remember. And yeah, Marinette would never forget that vacation.

Because she stood with the rest of her class, watching smoke and dust rise off of the pile of rubble that just dropped on top of her parents. The fight was over. Marinette couldn’t even remember who it was. But even with his son by his side, Superman and Superboy couldn’t save everyone. Nobody could. It was asking too much, to expect any one or two heroes to save everyone when an entire city was being attacked and buildings reduced to rubble.

But that wouldn’t soothe the sight of blood creeping out of the rocks.

That wouldn’t soothe the scrapes on Marinette’s knees when she dropped to the ground.

It wouldn’t smother the sound of her agonized cries.

It wouldn’t heal the burns and scrapes and bruises, the chipped fingernails and bleeding fingertips that Marinette gave herself as she tried desperately, sight blurry through tears, to lift each and every piece of still-hot concrete off, shove it to the side, in an attempt to unearth them. They could still be alive, right? Right?

The fact that she was shoveling what amounted to pebbles off of a hill of rubble argued with her. No. No, they weren’t.

It wasn’t until gentle, but unyieldingly strong hands clasped hers, making them still.

“You’re hurting yourself,” that soft, deep voice came from whoever owned the foreign hands, but she didn’t have the mental strength to look up and identify them. Instead, she resorted to kicking rubble away. The voice sighed. “Back up. I can help. Okay? Will you let me help?”

It had been so long, Marinette furrowed her eyebrows. When was the last time someone had actually asked her that question? When was the last time someone ever offered her help? Legitimate help, not just something superficial.

She couldn’t remember. How should she respond?

Marinette��s tongue darted out, wetting her dusty lips. Her deep breath came in with a disconcerting rattle. Somehow, she managed to nod. The foreign hands loosened slightly.

“Okay. Good—“

“I can’t stop,” Marinette finally managed to choke out. “I can’t— I need to—“

“I know,” the voice said again, endlessly patient. Endlessly understanding. “But you’re hurting yourself, so put these on first. Then you can keep digging.”

With his help—yes, him. She vaguely managed to pin down that the voice was male— she was able to slip on thick gloves. They were several sizes too big, probably belonged to one of the firefighters nearby, her mind numbly supplied. She didn’t care. As soon as they were on, she dropped down and began to dig again. The man who had offered to help did just that, moving just a foot or two away and lifting up impossibly large chunks of concrete before placing them down gently in an open area.

With his help, they were uncovered. They were carried away, under blankets, as best as they could be. Marinette saw none of it. Hands covered her eyes, younger than the voice-man’s hands but almost as strong. The only thing she saw was whatever was left once most of them was taken away. Later, she would thank him. But in the moment she was furious.

“I’m not a baby!” She growled at him, her voice lower and scratchier than usual because of all the smoke and dust clogging her throat. “I need to look at them! I need to remember!”

“Not like this,” the new voice said. When he removed his hands, Marinette saw Superboy. He was probably just about her age, but that offered little comfort for her. At least his eyes were understanding, calm, and empathetic. “You don’t need to see them like this. Remember them like they were, not how they ended,” the young hero advised gently, keeping a respectable distance between them now that he was no longer covering her eyes. He wasn’t even floating, staying on solid ground to stay closer to her eye level. “Today will be hard enough on your mind as it is. You don’t need to make this more painful than it is.”

Marinette could only bite her lip at that, her shoulders trembling. Is this what it took to have someone worry about her? To have people realize that she wasn’t superhuman, that she wasn’t infallible or mentally indestructible? Is this what it took, to finally have people try to help and care for her?

Because if it was, she would gladly deal with Lila Rossi and be held to far too high a standard for the rest of her life. She would rather suffer quietly for decades with that much more gentle pain than deal with this agony right now.

She finally let the tears fall, but they were mostly silent. Only hiccups and gasps for air added sound to her sobs. Superboy gently removed her hands from her arms before she could draw blood on herself, and when she lunged into the touch he drew her into the hug she clearly needed. When she pretty much collapsed into his hold, getting snot and tears over the symbol on his chest, he said nothing. He just held her and shared a glance over her shoulder with his father.

—*—*—*—*—*

Lois Lane was an investigative reporter. And when her husband and son asked her to make sure the girl they had sat with for hours after the latest attack on their city would be taken care of, she did not cut corners in her research. What she came up with was less than reassuring.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. With her parents gone, she didn’t have much in the way of possible guardians. Her paternal grandfather was dead, just a few months earlier of old age. Her paternal grandmother Gina was consumed with wanderlust, not very responsible and not likely to be able to win custody. Even if she did, Lois doubted Marinette would do well in such an unstable, constantly moving lifestyle. Some people would, but Marinette was much like her son from what she gathered from her investigation. She would need stability before anything else. There was her Uncle from her mom’s side of the family, but he only spoke Mandarin so the language barrier was not promising either. The last thing Marinette needed was pressure to learn a new language. If she hyper focused on anything to deal with her grief, it should at least be something she chose on her own. Lastly there was her maternal grandmother, but she had gotten in an accident and passed away almost two years prior.

Luckily, Lois Lane was also a woman of extreme, if mostly secret, political power. She knew several billionaires with political sway, international superheroes, and politicians. Also, not that she would ever tell her husband, but she might have squared away some blackmail and favors that she might cash in with some folks in the legal system if it decided to fight her on her new personal mission.

Nobody got in the way of Lois Lane and lasted long.

But first, she ran her idea past her family. It wouldn’t do any good if they didn’t agree with her, after all. Luckily enough, her offer seemed to be exactly what they had hoped for. Apparently Marinette was the type that was easy to get attached to.

And that was how, after twelve hours of intense phone-call sessions and very, very many in depth discussions, arguments, debates, bargains, and subtle manipulation, Marinette Dupain-Cheng ended up in the temporary custody of the Kent family.

The process itself was extremely complicated and in normal circumstances would have taken anywhere from days to months to complete, but as mentioned before Lois Lane is a secret political superpower in and of herself.

Officially, Marinette’s grandmother Gina assumed custody. Unofficially, her grandmother had plans to enroll her in school abroad in, you guessed it, Metropolis, so that she wouldn’t have to deal with the melancholy memories that Paris would supply her. In doing so, she contacted the Kent’s who were apparently old family friends and asked them to take her granddaughter in for the time being. She was oh so busy traveling the world, after all. And that’s no life for a teenager recovering from grief.

After two weeks to allow Marinette to go back to Paris for the funeral, pack up her things and say goodbye to her friends, she ended up on the Kents’ doorstep with her grandmother by her side. Any attempts to get more information out of the old woman were futile, she refused to say a word on why nobody had mentioned these “family friends” before.

(Lois figured out fairly quickly that Gina Dupain was not somebody to take lightly. The fact that Gina answered the phone thinking that Red Hood was calling was a giant tip off. Lois was pretty sure that Gina knew damn well who her son and husband were, but wasn’t saying anything about it. It really was a shame that she wasn’t exactly prime parenting material at the moment.)

Lois and Clark opened the door together, having been double and triple checking that everything was set up and ready for their new addition. Sure, Marinette wasn’t being adopted or even officially fostered by them, but they would still treat her like a Kent.

“Marinette, hi,” Clark greeted, smiling warmly down at the short girl. “I’m Clark, and this is my wife Lois. If you need absolutely anything, don’t be afraid to ask. Okay?”

The small girl nodded, her hair flopping behind her a bit. Normally she would have it held back in pigtails, but she just didn’t have the energy for that anymore. Maybe she would regain it one day. With that, Gina and Marinette said their goodbyes and she started her life with the Kents.

—*—*—*—*—*

It took a while. Luckily the trip to metropolis had already been in the early summer, so Marinette could be excused for the last few weeks of the school term and relax over summer before being forced back into society. Her grades at Francois-Dupoint were finalized, Marinette doing all the extra work during her two weeks in France for the funeral. She had been told it wasn’t necessary and that she could take her time with it but, as the Kents soon learned, Marinette hated being idle.

But even though Marinette was nowhere near healed, it only took a week for her to warm up to the youngest Kent. Jon was a very much welcome presence in her new life. Just about her age, he was always patient with her and never pried for information or asked about why she occasionally couldn’t bring herself to talk. Words just failed her sometimes, she couldn’t get her throat to work. Something would remind her of her parents, or that day, and she would just feel the dust in her throat again and the blisters on her palms and she just couldn’t say a word.

All three of the Kents helped her through these episodes as best as they could, but Jon always stayed close by so she could tug him into a hug when she was ready. As a very tactile person, she really appreciated that.

And somehow he and Clark, despite being very awkward and physically unsure of themselves on the surface, gave the best hugs.

But, even though Jon and Clark had resigned themselves to being slightly more on-guard about their identities than they usually would be at home, they hadn’t quite anticipated just how hard it would be to keep a secret identity. Not necessarily from Marinette, since the girl spent most of her time out in their backyard or in her room, or occasionally going out for short visits to the city with Jon. No, it was the other way around.

Because of course Marinette couldn’t just give up being Ladybug and the Grand Guardian. Fu wasn’t there to take over for her anymore, so she took it upon herself to watch over Paris twice as vigorously. Mostly through keeping an eye on news channels and texts with her friends, general media stuff. She didn’t want to tire Kaalki out.

And this was how, two months after Marinette started living with the Kents, she walked through a portal into her room and was met with Clark and Jon staring right at her. The elder Kent had his arms crossed, posture oddly confident for the man she had come to know, and one eyebrow raised. Jon looked like his smile was about to rip his face in half, and he was bouncing a bit on his heels. Even then, though, Marinette could pick out the slight worry in his blue eyes. In both of theirs.

She immediately jumped backwards and closed the portal. Trapping herself back in Paris.

And instantly crumpling down to moan in despair on top of a random Parisian rooftop.

She was sitting on the very top of the Eiffel Tower when Superman and Superboy found her, and it didn’t take much for her to guess that they had flown straight over from metropolis. Stupid super-speed flight. She drew her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knees as they floated to her side of her patiently. She had long since separated Kaalki, and sat in just her Ladybug costume.

“I knew Lois could contact you guys, but this is a bit too quick even for you don’t you think?” Ladybug drawled monotonously, looking over at both of the heroes dryly. Now that she was mostly of sound mind and not in the middle of a traumatic situation, she was able to make connections she couldn’t before. She was able to actually observe their faces, whereas before she hadn’t really been in the right mind frame to really commit anything about them to memory. But now?

Ohhh, she knew those faces.

Marinette’s eyebrow twitched as she did a double-take, followed closely by a deep breath. Maybe the glasses and, for Jon, baseball cap, would be a good enough disguise for most people. Especially when combined with the frankly impressive body acting they both pulled off on an apparently daily basis, they felt like totally different people in and out of the suits even if they looked the same.

But Marinette was not a normal person. She was a designer, she had a very critical eye, and she had just spent the better part of the last two months living in the same house as these two. And now she realized that they severely toned down the body acting and general “disguise” of their civilian selves when they were at home rather than outside. She had shrugged it off as them simply relaxing at home and, while she was right, it wasn’t until this moment that she put everything together.

“No masks, seriously? Some day, someone with eyes as good as mine is gonna figure you guys out,” she told them blandly, earning shocked blinks followed quickly by soft grins.

“I would normally sit down next to you at this point, but you haven’t exactly left us any space,” Superman— Clark, Marinette reminded herself— joked lightly. Marinette looked down to the small tip of the Eiffel Tower and back up to him, pointedly raising both eyebrows. Jon giggled.

Rolling her eyes and fighting a smile, Ladybug stood up without any apparently care about her footing. Somehow, balance seemed to just come naturally to her. It was so different from the usual Marinette that Clark and Jon had seen literally walk into a wall on multiple occasions that they had to grin. Seems like she fit right in on their acts-clumsy-and-awkward-but-isn’t trope.

(No, they later realized, that was completely Marinette. Ladybug just brought out a different side of her, but the awkwardness was still there. Just better hidden.)

“I was kinda trying to stay somewhere that nobody else could join me on purpose. You know, I was a little busy catastrophizing about you guys wanting to get rid of me now.”

“What?!” Jon asked, horrified. “No way! Even if we were normal, we wouldn’t just toss you away because we found out you’re a hero. That just— do you honestly think we would do that?”

“No,” she admitted softly, crossing her arms and sighing as she looked down over Paris. Over her city. It was a bittersweet view nowadays. “No, but I always freak out over things like that pretty easily. I’ve had people leave me over less. Sometimes it’s hard to convince myself that anyone else will be different.”

“Marinette—“

“Ladybug, actually,” she corrected with a small smile. “Don’t wanna slip up here. You never know who’s listening.”

Clark blinked, needing a moment to let that sink in before forcing himself to continue. “Ladybug, then,” he paused to gently lay a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to meet his gaze. As always it was soft. Patient. Just like his voice had been that fateful day. And, oh, there were the memories. They had both been there, helped her, and they stuck with her. Even though it hadn’t been their fault, even though they could have easily stepped back and let her deal with own problems and who had her custody on her own, they didn’t. She would have blamed them if they did, who was she to expect heroes to care about her like she was their child? That would be horrendously selfish of her. They saved hundreds of people every week.

And yet here they were, treating her like family.

And there was the phantom dust, clogging her throat. Strangling her words. She opened and closed her mouth, but nothing came out. Clark understood, he always understood, and his grip just tightened slightly. It tethered her.

“Ladybug,” he repeated even more softly. “We are not going to toss you out. Not for something like this, not for anything. You’re family now. You might not have the Kent name, you might not be kryptonian, but you’re one of us. Lois understands. Heaven knows she’s put up with both of us long enough, one more hero in the family is probably not that surprising. I just hope that… that you knowing doesn’t—“

“I don’t blame you,” there we go, her voice finally decided to work again. It came out a little hoarse, so she cleared her throat and started again. “I don’t blame you. I never did. It’s stupid, blaming a hero for things that never would have happened if the villain hadn’t attacked in the first place,” she told them, ripping her gaze away from his to trace over Paris again. “Maybe it’s because I understand that not everyone can be saved. I get it. But I never blamed you. I was actually grateful from the very beginning. You helped me dig them out even though you very well could have just carried me to the sidelines and stopped me from digging at all. And you, Jon, you didn’t complain once when I pretty much tackled you in a hug. You both sat with me as the paramedics looked me over. You didn’t leave until you were sure I was back in my hotel and in good hands. You never got impatient with me. That’s more than I could have asked for,” suddenly her mask was wet, and she roughly swiped away the tears that had leaked from her eyes. “You guys being Superman and Superboy isn’t going to make me treat you differently. It’s… actually nice. Not having to hide anymore, I mean.”

Jon grinned and flew over, enveloping her in a tight hug. Ladybug only chuckled and returned it, never once faltering in her balance. “I know exactly what you mean!” He said happily, making Ladybug laugh even more. It quickly devolved into Jon having to compensate for Ladybug’s balance, since she was suddenly leaning all her weight on him as she laughed her little heart out and no longer seemed to care about her balance at all. Not that it mattered much, Jon was more than capable of keeping her safe at close range like this, but it was cute to see. And for Clark? It was really relieving to see the girl he had come to think of as a daughter laughing so genuinely for the first time. Not a chuckle, or a soft huff of amusement, a full blown belly laugh.

It was amazing.

“Come on. I think you have some explaining to do, if you are comfortable with it anyway. Do you want to fly back, or portal back?” He asked, tilting his head slightly. He wouldn’t force Marinette to use her powers, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about them. Marinette straightened up, easily regaining her balance on the pointed tip of the tower beneath her, and slipping on a pair of glasses that she pulled… out of her yo-yo?

Wait, why was a yo-yo on her hip her only weapon? Maybe Clark should look into the Paris situation a bit more in-depth. He was clearly missing a lot, and none of what he was seeing was necessarily filling him with joy and confidence. Maybe Marinette could help soothe his worries later, if she decided to explain her abilities to them.

One transformation and a portal later, and all three of them stepped back into Marinette’s room. And when the portal closed and Marinette let down all her transformations, she took a deep breath and looked around. At both men in the room with her. At her bed and all her belongings. At the way this space has become her own. It felt nice. Warm. Welcoming, familiar.

Home.

It felt like home.

And Marinette’s smile hadn’t been quite so wide since before that infamous Metropolis trip.

Part 2

Yes, Lois kept her last name when she married Clark. I just like alliteration, okay? Besides, my story my rules lol :P

[mrsalwayswrite]

Too Late To Hold My Heart (Joe Liebgott x Reader)

Alright, i’m not 100% sure about this but here ya go. Just something that came to mind. Lemme know what y’all think! I usually shy away from writing angst...

Warnings: ANGST, a couple swear words, a tiny bit of fluff (I’m so sorry for all the feels)

 Words:2600

Tag List: @happyveday @sydney-m​ @saritanotserena

  Joe Liebgott reclined on the cushioned chair, open bottle of schnapps in hand. Watching. Unable to tear his gaze away. He should have been ecstatic. He should have been shouting from the rooftops, running around, causing mayhem like the others. Joining in the revelry surrounding him with abandon. Drinking from the cup of life handed to him and the other paratroopers. 

 The war in Europe was over. 

 VE Day. 

 Everyone was getting drunk off their asses in celebration. They had somehow survived and made it to the end. Alcohol flowed freely. Laughter and exclamations, the background of the town they were currently occupying. Luz and Christianson were loudly singing in the next room over, the radio drowned out by their voices. Even Martin was belly-laughing across the room, a bottle in hand. 

 Yet instead of getting drunk to celebrate, Joe was getting drunk to forget. 

 To forget you. 

 He could still remember how you felt in his hands, the way your sighs tasted on his lips. The hopes and dreams you confessed to him in the nights you shared a foxhole. How you whispered his name, the sound rolling off your lips. How you held him so tightly as he sobbed in your arms the night after Tipper got hit. Intoxicating memories that threatened to drown him now.

 The worst part. 

 He could see you across the room, laughing openly with your head tipped back and hand over your mouth, as if to contain the beguiling sound. In the glow of the surrounding lamps, you were a vision of true beauty and carefree joy. 

 The problem?

 Floyd Talbert's arm, possessively around your waist, pulling you closer into his side on the couch you both were sitting on. 

 Joe took another swig of the schnapps, grimacing at the taste. Those around him continued to talk and laugh, oblivious to his simmering anger. 

 He could still see it. Just a few hours ago as they got word of the Nazis' surrender, everyone had been cheering and running around like children set loose on a playground. Joe had hurried to find you, to see your smile, to embrace you. For so long you two had talked about this moment. The end of the war. 

 Instead, his feet stuck to the cobbled road, trapped as if in cement. Shock and anger colored his world in vibrant hues, the joy around him turning into dull grays. For there was Talbert running to you, scooping you up in his arms, swinging you around without a care in the word. And as he set you back on your feet, he kissed you as if you were the very air he needed. 

 Those who witnessed it either laughed or stared in shock. A couple wolf whistles sounded amongst the cheering. 

 But Joe felt like a white-hot dagger had been stuck into his chest, burning his heart. 

 For you had kissed Talbert back just as passionately. 

 So here he sat, surrounded by revelry, surrounded by his fellow paratroopers celebrating the war's end in Europe. Only that joy seemed to bypass him, leaving him to wallow in confusion and anger. 

 The way you breathed out his name as he kissed you, like he was the only thing keeping you tied down to this world. Your hands in his hair, holding him against you. Your soft skin in the moonlight. The quiet laughter as you stared into each other's eyes after. The teasing about not getting caught by the others… He could remember it all. 

 Now though, it was someone else who laid a kiss to your temple, making you giggle sweetly. Someone else who had their arm around you. Someone else who you were gazing up at like they put the stars in the sky. 

 It was supposed to be him. It was always supposed to be him. He planned on changing your last name to Liebgott. He had thought of your future together so many times. The only thing that kept him sane through the past several months. 

 Now this tasted like betrayal. 

 And he was not sure who he was furious with- himself or you. 

 Eventually, he watched you bid goodnight to those around you, giggling as your feet swayed slightly. You had always been a lightweight. A quick peck on the lips to Talbert; then you disappeared into the back and up the stairs where your room in the house was. 

 Without a second thought, Joe drained the rest of the bottle in his hand. Not even paying attention to the taste anymore. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, dropping the bottle on the ground.

 And he followed you. 

 *****

 You pulled the pins out of your hair, letting it down from the chignon it had been in. Bubbles danced in your belly, both from joy and from the champagne you had been sipping on. VE Day. A part of you never thought this day would ever come. Next, you took off your OD jacket, tossing it onto the bed next to you, leaving you standing there in your white undershirt and OD trousers and socks. 

 Wait?

 You giggled as you stared down at your sock-clad feet. You remembered wearing your boots earlier. At some point you must have taken them off. Well, you might remember throwing one at Luz. Hopefully Tab could help you find them in the morning. Or someone with the least severe hangover. You giggled again thinking of poor Gene who was going to be dealing with all these hungover paratroopers coming to him for pain meds. Maybe you should volunteer to help him. You did not drink that much to be affected in the morning. It was better for the company that you remained mostly sober. 

 The door to your solitary room opened behind you. Surprised, you turned around, ready to tease whoever came in. Was someone bringing up your boots?

 When Liebgott stepped through, the words froze on your tongue and all the joyful bubbles popped, leaving you feeling hollow and nauseous. 

 He stood just inside the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. His hair was messy, as if he ran his hand through it too many times. Eyes slightly glassy but obscured by the fire burning in them. "So, you and Tab, huh? How long has this been going on?"

 "Joe…I think you should leave." You turned back around and ran your fingers through your hair, preparing to braid your hair like you did every night. 

 "What? Was it before or after us, huh?" Even without looking at him, you could imagine the sneer on his face. His voice that at one time used to be so gentle and kind to you, now was harsh and grating. 

 "I don't wanna talk about it."

 In a couple steps, he was behind you, gripping your arm to whirl you around violently. "Answer the goddamn question, y/n!"

 "There was never an 'us'." You spat out, surprising yourself with the venom in your own voice. 

 He took a step back, eyes wide in shock. Then as what you said sunk in, the fire burning in his eyes turned into an inferno that threatened to burn you both in its wake. "What the fuck are you talking about? Of course, there was an us! We fucked in Mourmelon! We talked about our futures! About life together after the war!  Even in Albourne, there was always an us!"

 "And then you shut me out!" You yelled back at him. 

 Chest heaving, you covered your mouth with your hand for a moment, trying to force back the flood of pain and emotions clawing desperately to escape. When you continued speaking, you kept your eyes on his dog tags hanging over his shirt, your voice low as if confessing a sin. "We used to talk about everything. I thought that if we both survived this war, we might--" You stopped yourself from finishing that sentence. "It doesn't matter now. In Bastogne, you cut me off. You wouldn't talk to me. You ignored me. I got injured and needed you, but you weren't there. Even in Haguenau, it was like you never saw me. I was suddenly invisible to you. What was I supposed to think?"

 His eyes were wide, mouth open slightly, as if now recognizing the effects of his actions. He licked his lips, then reached his hand out like he meant to cup your cheek but thought better of it and dropped it back to his side. "I... I didn't want to hurt you anymore. I made you cry and that-- SHIT! I'm not a good man. I'm a selfish asshole. I just… I wanted to be better for you."

 "Joe, don't-" 

 "No, damn it." He interrupted you, grabbing a fistful of your loose hair and tipping your head up, forcing your eyes to meet his. "I didn't want blood on my hands the next time I touched you, held you, kissed you. I needed to be a good man for you. What you fucking deserve. But I couldn't do it. Not there. I just thought...after. When the war was over. We could try again."

 "Why didn't you tell me?"

 "Did I mention I'm a selfish asshole yet?"

 You chuckled, placing your hands on his chest. His rapid heartbeat under your fingers matched your own. His fist loosened in your hair, fingers running through it like he knew you loved. A subtle sigh escaped your lips without permission at the gentle touch. How long had it been since he touched you like this?

 "Please, y/n, please." He begged, voice cracking at the end. "Give me another chance." 

 You shook your head, dropping your gaze. "You had it, but you pushed me away when I needed you. I can't...I can't go through that again. It hurt too much."

 "Was there ever really a chance? For us?"

 "Joe… I… I can't…" Tears flooded your eyes; you desperately fought to keep them from falling. 

 So slowly, he ran his hand through your hair one last time then took a half step back. "And Tab?"

 "He has always been a friend, even in Toccoa. He looked out for me. And in Bastogne, he was there for me. We took care of each other, especially after I got injured but couldn't leave the line. He helped me pick up the pieces of myself after. It wasn't supposed to happen. We were only supposed to be friends. But...things changed."

 He nodded, then rubbed the back of his neck while looking out the window. He tugged his lower lip into his mouth for a second, before staring at you once again. "Can I kiss you? One last time?"

 "No. That would only hurt us both."

 "Yeah...well if it means anything… I'm sorry. For everything."

 "Me too." You covered your mouth with your hand, physically suppressing the sob that felt lodged in your throat. Peeking through your watery eyes, you could just make out the tears in his own as he stared at you longingly. 

 You two stood there gazing at one another, a million unspoken words laying on the ground between your feet. Words you both wished you had said in the past, but it was too late now. Too late to pick them up, dust them off and share them. Like your hearts. Hopes, dreams and desires that pulled on you two, keeping you together. Those strings were cut. Severed by the hatchet of insecurity, war and pain. It was too late to try and save those strings. 

 It was all months too late. 

 How you wished it was different. 

 "Everything alright here?" Talbert asked, standing in the doorway. His gaze jumped rapidly between you and Liebgott, still standing only a step apart. His jacket was unbuttoned, pieces of hair sticking up haphazardly like someone tried to give him a noogie. 

 "Yeah, yeah." You met Tab's eyes, taking another step back from Liebgott. Quickly, you wiped your eyes with the heel of your hand. "Just talking about home. Hopefully we can see it soon."

 "Oh yeah, I forgot you both are from San Francisco. Small world, huh?" He smiled, leaning against the doorframe. 

 "Small world. Well, I should probably get to sleep. Good night, Joe." 

 "Yeah." Liebgott stared at you like he was burning your image into his mind permanently; you could feel his eyes caressing your cheeks and lips. Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked out with a quick, 'see ya, Tab' over his shoulder.

 Pushing off the doorframe, Talbert approached you. He scanned you like he was looking for an injury, then gently pulled you into his warm embrace. He kissed the top of your head once you burrowed into his arms. "Hey, you alright, baby?"

 "I'm fine. I promise. I just...I'm ready to go back. To go home, you know?"

 "I know. I am too. But don't get too comfortable in California. You're gonna come live with me in Kokomo."

 You giggled, tipping your face up to look at his smug expression. "Oh, I am? What if I want you to stay in Cali with me? You did say you've always wanted to live near the ocean."

 "I did, didn't I?"

 "Mmm...we could get a little house near the bay. Not too close to my parents though. My sister will probably fight me to try and snatch you up."

 "Well, that would be the first time I've had sisters fight over me before."

 You swatted his chest but he only laughed, pulling you against him again. 

 "You don't have to worry about your sister. I've only got eyes for you. Been that way for a while." He lightly kissed your lips, a tease of affection. "Alright, you've made a valid argument for California. I think I might be persuaded to change my mind."

 "Good. As a reward, we can get a dog. Maybe call him Trigger?"

 He smiled brilliantly, "Have I mentioned how much I love you, baby." He tucked your head under his. The feeling of being fully surrounded by his comforting embrace, released the tension you carried. His hand skimmed up and down your back as you just held one another. No matter the circumstances, you had always been able to find a semblance of peace while in his arms. 

 With Liebgott, your affections for him had felt like a shooting star. You could not help but get caught up by him, struck by the power and beauty, wishing for it to always continue on. Now though, you knew. Shooting stars never last forever. They eventually have to come down.

 While with Talbert, he was your lighthouse. In your darkest moments when you did not think you could continue, he whispered words of comfort in your ear, held your bloodied hand in his. He drew you out of the quagmire of darkness, guiding you, encouraging you to keep going. Something he did every day, even now. With a soft smile, a gentle touch, he reminded you that you were not alone. From day one in Toccoa, he had stood in your corner. He was safety and stability amongst chaos. You fully trusted him, with more than just your heart. 

 You happened to turn your head, peeking towards the doorway. Only to see Joe staring at you, looking like he had been gutted. You met his gaze while in the arms of the man you loved and trusted. He must have lingered or came back. It did not matter though. He had heard. The idea of a place by the bay, a family dog...those were things you two had talked about before. Now they were dreams you shared with another. 

 After a long moment, he tucked his hands in his pockets and turned away, disappearing from view. You turned your face back into Tab's chest, heart fraying at the seams. 

 How was it possible for love to be the best and worst thing you had ever experienced?

[emilycollins00]

Hello dear author and greetings as well, I hope you’re doing fine in the midst of pandemic and all that; may this virtual hug reach you 🥺🥺♥️♥️♥️ Do you think we can go for Omi, Tsumugi,Sakyo and Juza being caught by reader cheating on them and what will happen after the incident?? It’s an imagine I’ve always been curious and I have to admit how interesting it is knowing these guys are loyal and having a new side would be refreshing.

Virtual hug received and sending you some more! 💕

This prompt was such a journey I’m nervous. Hopefully I made justice to your request!

Caught cheating! Omi, Tsumugi, Juza and Sakyo x reader headcanons 

-

Omi

It happened in the photography club. The door had been loosely closed, so there was a space from where you saw the inside.

Standing in the middle of the hall, you put a hand on your chest to try to steady your breathing. The panic rose in your chest, threatening tears appearing in the corners of your eyes.

Your boyfriend backhugging someone, leaving light kisses on them as he whispered who knew what.

You couldn’t breathe.

Why would Omi do something like this? The gentle, lovable and kind autumn member of Mankai who loved making muffins of your favorite flavour every time you went there?

You stifled a sob, not understanding why your legs weren’t moving.

At some point, the voices from inside got quiet and soon, Omi was moving toward you, eyes wide open and arms reaching out to you, calling you. 

He had always been a comforting place and yet now, his mere proximity brought nothing but anxiety and anger.

You stepped back to get away from his grip.

“Y/N, I’m-”

“How… how could you”

Omi would have preferred if you had punched him in the face before seeing that deep pain that you wore in front of him.

Finally, your body responded, and you left the place, not being able to look back “...Never talk to me again”

Omi opened his mouth and closed it again, staring at the floor as your steps faced.

While guilty, he would do as you had asked him to.

You both never exchanged a word anymore, the memories of you two together becoming something bitter you tried to forget.

It would take a long time before you could trust someone again.

Tsumugi

It had been a coincidence to finish work earlier and decided to do some window shopping around Veludo district.

It also had been a coincidence to somehow find your boyfriend in that coffee shop, talking with someone. A friend perhaps?

Ah, but friends didn’t kiss or caressed each other's hands.

Feeling someone staring at him, Tsumugi looked around curiously, his soul leaving his body when you both locked eyes.

His chair fell to the ground as he got up.

“Y/N-”

You were already on your way out. Whatever he was going to say, to somehow excuse his behavior, didn’t get to leave his mouth as you shoved him, making him stumble when he grabbed you outside.

People stopped to look at you. You didn’t care.

“Do you think I’m really stupid enough to listen to you after seeing that, Tsumugi? Answer me, because I’m THIS close to making a scene, do you?”

He pressed his lips, looking away.

Your heart felt like it had been stepped on. Just looking at the winter member hurt like hell.

You couldn’t believe just a few days ago you had decided to look for a small weekend trip. A present for your anniversary. 

“Guess you really are a pretty good actor, after all.”

You walked away, nothing left to say; no words, no apologize would ever explain or fix the situation.

You paid no attention to the tears running down your face

From then on, your connection with Mankai theatre, or any other, became non-existent.

You would never see theatre the same way without reminding you of the blue-haired actor.

And you hated him for that.

Juza

Perhaps you were being delusional, but for some time, you had felt as if Juza had become distant towards you.

You chose to ignore it. To believe that he was just tired. That everything would go back to normal after his play.

“Are you fucking kidding me”

After the initial shock, you didn’t waste another second, slamming the door and leaving the autumn member and whoever he might have been kissing and laughing with inside the classroom.

You heard heavy running steps from behind.

Was he really going to talk to you? Had he lost his mind?

“Y/N, I gotta-“

You released yourself spitefully from his grip, slapping him. Hard.

You wanted to puke, overwhelmed with the situation.

For Juza, your quiet and sweet boyfriend, to be... “Was I meant to know this is why you started to ignore me? Did you enjoy it seeing me anxious?”

He frowned, looking down and pressing his lips together.

Your voice trembled and you felt your eyes watery.

Forget about being proud of him for coming so far with his struggles, for him becoming more sociable and happy with his own self.

You felt used.

You turned, tensing your jaw, to not allow tears to fall in front of him.

"You were the last person I thought could do something like this”

Juza didn’t try to defend himself anymore.

Time passed, and although you sometimes nodded at Taichi or Tenma when you passed by at school, you never talked with them again.

Or anyone from the Mankai theatre.

Juza’s face and anything related to him was something you would rather remove from your mind.

To have been cheated on by someone you had cared so much... it would take long before you believed in someone else’s actions again.

Sakyo

You thought these things only happened in soap operas.

Sakyo was known for being collected when it came to dealing with difficult situations, but just then, there was nothing but fear written over his face.

Whatever he was about to say died on his way out when you raised your hand to stop him from talking, the person he hiding behind him.

“Don’t bother to dress up, I know my fucking way around this place too.”

Not wasting time to hear excuses, you took the same taxi that had brought you to your boyfriend's apartment.

You opened the door of your house, phone buzzing nonstop.

You left it in your bed to prepare a cup of tea. You stared at the wall, in trance.

Was this supposed to be where you broke down? Where you called him back and shout who knew what? 

You stayed still, your hands gripping with force the cup.

After a while, you came back to your room, unlocking the phone.

24 lost calls. 

“Fuck you” you couldn’t help but whisper, a lump forming in your throat.

The phone kept buzzing. You saw messages. Many of them. Reading from the top and scrolling down, you kept finding the same words over and over.

‘Y/N’

‘We need to talk’

You got up, deciding to take a bath. Your eyes burned and your head hurt, but crying for a man like him was the last thing you would be doing that night.

Even though you knew at some point you would.

Meanwhile, Sakyo stared at his phone in the darkness of his room “...shit”

Read: 03:09 AM

You would never respond to anything related to him again.

__________________________________________________________

Aaaah I don’t know what’s going on anymore, my babies. Don’t worry they love you?? this was just a street act??

Have a wonderful day! 💕