#but i'm back and i hope it stays that way

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Stuck like glue

Request: "I'm going to scream your domestic character joining coop on his travels from her cabin is SO good 😭 I was wondering if you would write something with the same character in her cabin when coop turns up from nearby having taken one too many bullets? Or maybe he's sick and needs some jet. Some hurt/comfort fluffy sweetness" A/N: Thank you to the awesome anon who sent the idea! Maybe not AS fluffy as we wanted, but there's for sure some soft Ghoul going on in here. And, oh yeah, the reader has a dog now. No description of said dog has been given, so please imagine as you'd wish. Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, brief mentions of sexual interaction. Summary: Your favorite Ghoul needs to be patched up after a spat with some Raiders, and you always know just how to make him feel better.

Word Count: 2.0k+

Gif credit to @elisefrost from this set

You’re outside attempting to hang clothes to dry when you hear it. 

The soft but distinct sound of jingling metal comes from behind your cabin. You set one hand on the pistol strapped to your thigh and walk in that direction, eyes peeled for any movement. A bark echoes the sound from your porch, and you snap at your four-legged companion in an attempt to get him to stay. 

“Tiger!” You hiss. “Quit!”

 He relents with an indignant huff and returns to the porch, while the metallic noise keeps up in a steady pattern, akin to the cadence of a slow walk. You tilt your head at the thought and eventually move the hand off your pistol; only one person would dare tread this close in broad daylight with such carelessness.

“Coop?”

You don’t see him anywhere, but you’re almost certain it was the sounds of his old spurs that caught your attention. 

“Cooper if you’re tryna scare me, you know I'll gut you.” The threat is an empty one, but saying it gives you some hope that it’s indeed him and not a Raider or Slaver looking to score some loot. 

“No need, babydoll.” His voice sounds ragged, tired. “Don’t think I could scare a bunny rabbit at the moment.” 

You follow his voice to your left, and find the Ghoul leaned up against a tree. He’s practically swaying in the breeze, very apparently unsteady. You rush over just as he slides down and collides with the dirt.. 

“Cooper! What happened to you?” 

Your hands flutter up and down his arms, brusquely checking for any injuries. Nothing obvious jumps out at you, but he heals fast and external wounds are rare. A wheeze claws its way up his throat and morphs into a hacking cough. You recognize the sound as the need for a Vial, and grab at his bag. 

“Do you have any on you?” 

A stuttered cough answers. “Fresh out… s’why I came here.”

Your stash of Vials had been growing just about as long as you’d known Cooper. When you traveled together, he’d hand some off to you for safekeeping, and there always ended up being extras. Upon your return home, he’d tell you to keep them. It wasn’t shocking, given that he found his way back every couple of days.

“Alright, come on.” You crouch down and position yourself beneath Cooper’s arm. 

You can tell he’s weak by the way he leans into you, knees wobbling relentlessly as you pull him up. Another round of coughing wracks his body and you squeeze him reassuringly. 

“Couch isn’t far.” You chose your words carefully, avoiding any inkling of pity. Having an already deteriorating Ghoul is enough, let alone a defensive one who hates being pitied. 

Cooper does his best to keep up with your steps, but his movements are sloppy and uncoordinated. You can feel the heat radiating off of him through his jacket and hear him wheezing beside your ear. Stepping onto the porch gives him some trouble, but you manage to haul him up and inside the door. Tiger whines nervously, circling the pair of you as you trek inside. The Ghoul collapses onto the couch as soon as it’s within reach. 

After making sure Cooper’s not going to slide off the couch, you continue to the med-kit in your makeshift kitchen. The Vials are hidden at the very bottom, wrapped in cloth for extra cushion to prevent shattering. You decide there’s more than enough for him to take two, and carefully extract the mysterious chem. 

Cooper’s laid out on his back when you return with the Vials. One arm is thrown over his eyes and the other dangling off the side of the couch with Tiger perched beneath. The dog nuzzles his favorite person’s hand for attention, and it elicits a chuckle from you. Even as the only conscious person in the room, you were still second in Tiger’s eyes. 

“Coop.” You shake his shoulder gently. “Hey. Hey. Where’s your inhaler?”

You nudge his hat away and he blinks slowly. “Mmm.”

“Ok then.” You mutter and pat down his jacket, searching for the contraption he always carries. The coat yields no results, and you pat down his pants until you feel it tucked away into the pocket at his hip. “Finally.”

Cooper shuffles ever so slightly when you slip your hand into his pocket. “H-hey now. I know you love me, baby, but I-I ain’t got it in me right now.”

An errant smile pushes its way onto your lips. You snap the meds into place on his inhaler 

“Open up.”

He fails to heed your instructions, and you ultimately end up forcing the inhalant into his mouth. It never works instantly, but within a minute or so of administering it there’s movement. One of Cooper’s hands lifts to cup yours, puffing on the inhaler again. 

You release your hold on it and rock back onto the balls of your feet. It’s then you take note of the holes in his clothing, and run a hand down his chest. There’s numerous holes, some as big as your finger and others no larger than a pinhead. 

“Cooper, what happened to you?” You sit on the edge of the couch beside him as he takes his first deep breath without Chems. 

“I just turn’d in a bounty and some Raiders jumped me.” He looks down at your hand on his chest. “Bastards shot me ten or eleven times. Damn buckshot got me good.”

You nod. “I can tell. You were in a bad way, Coop.”

The Ghoul sits up slowly beside you so his legs can swing off the couch. “I’ll be good as new, soon as this stuff starts workin’ good.” 

Tiger hops up on the couch next to him, tail wagging with excitement. The dog licks your cheek on his way to Cooper and pushes his nose into the Ghoul’s shoulder. You chuckle at the interaction, patting the dog’s shoulders. Coopers are still hunched with exhaustion, and his deep-set eyes look even more so. 

“Well until they do, you rest.” You stand, glancing out the still-ajar door. “It’s getting dark anyway.”

Cooper, as usual, opens his mouth to protest. If there’s anything he hates, it’s feeling useless. 

“No arguments.” You point a finger at him. “I mean it.”

He grumbles, but relents. “Fine. Only if you turn somethin’ on that ol’ TV of yours.”

The television turns out to be a perfect method of relaxation. You have to remove Cooper from the couch temporarily, but wrestle it into the pullout bed form and line it with blankets. The Ghoul had given in to his exhaustion rather easily at the prospect of a comfortable bed and kicked off his boots to climb all the way in. You hung his coat on a nail by the door, but made sure to leave his guns, lasso, and assorted weapons within arm’s reach. The TV played some old soap opera from before your time while you snagged a couple of hard candies- a luxury item, as the nearest settlement called them- and made to settle in. 

Cooper had managed to prop himself against the back of the couch, feet kicked out down the length of the thin mattress. Tiger, seeking attention as per usual, is curled up against his right leg. A wet nose rests just beneath Cooper’s knee and twitches in interest when you unwrap the first candy. 

The Ghoul might as well be a dog himself for the way his ears perk at the sound of a wrapper. 

He watches intently as you very gracefully clamber to sit next to him. You pop the fruit-flavored candy in your mouth and scoot around until you find comfort. In this case, it’s leaned up against the Ghoul beside you, head dropping onto his shoulder. His breathing is still shallower than you’d like, but a vast improvement from where it was when he’d shown up. 

“You ain’t gonna share?” 

You open your fist and offer up one of the candies. “I suppose I could. But only for you.”

A smirk twists the corners of his scarred lips. You poke at the candies and attempt to read the labels to no avail. 

“I’d offer you a choice of flavor, but…” You shrug, looking back up to your Ghoul. “Slim pickings.”

He lifts a bare hand to your chin, tilting up. “I think the pickin’s are just fine.”

You smile and lean in to meet him, lips falling into a familiar dance.The hand on your chin slides down to grip your nape and holds you firmly in place. It’s not long before the candy is gone from your mouth. Its remnants remain, mingling with the taste of gunpowder and smoke. A few moments pass before you decide to separate

“Miss me much?” You inquire, cuddling yourself down into his side. 

His arm raises to accommodate your body and lowers it back down to encircle your shoulders once you’re settled. “I always miss you darlin’. For a variety of reasons.”

You hum softly, “Yeah? Why’s that?”

Cooper’s hand trails up and down your arm, leaving wide trails of gooseflesh. “Well, the main one happens to be the lack of entertainment.”

You scoff. “I’m your entertainment?”

“Fuck yeah, you are. ‘Specially when you’re hollerin’ at scavengers and shootin’ anything that moves.” The Ghoul chuckles to himself. “Or trippin’ over a sleeping yao guai.”

You shove him playfully. “That was one time, and I shot it dead anyway.”

Cooper pulls you towards him, and you shift until you’re between his legs, chest pressed against his back. “That you did, sweetheart. I ain’t forgot.”

He grabs the nearest blanket and tosses it over your entangled bodies. You curl to the side and rest your cheek to his chest. Tiger shuffles his body with a huff, apparently frustrated with the lack of attention.

“What would you do without me?” You tap his chest gently, relishing in the warmth he produces. “Other than get eaten by a yao guai?”

The Ghoul scratches Tiger’s head. “Prolly go feral. Chase around some folk to scare em’.”

You know he’s joking, but the thought of losing him to ferality scares you to no end. Particularly since he’s just shown up on death’s door and almost hacked a lung onto your floor.

“Don’t say that.” You lift your head to catch his eye. “Please.”

Cooper may be a gruff old Ghoul with a dreadful outlook on the world, but he softens ever so slightly at your words.

“You know I don’t mean it, sugar. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

Two scarred fingers hook beneath your jaw and pull you back up to his lips. It’s tame at first, but the Cooper you know wastes no time making an appearance. His teeth nip at your lip gently and one rough hand slides up your side until it cups your breast. You press into him eagerly, climbing upwards until your thighs slot around either side of his hips. He responds by grinding them into you, delicious friction warming you from head to toe.  

Tiger decides he’s disgusted at this point, and hops off the couch with a comical groan.

Unbothered, one of your hands latches onto the lasso that is tossed on top of his pile of weapons. You loop it around his neck, gripping either side of the rope and pulling him in. Cooper smirks against your mouth. 

“Oh I love being stuck with you, Cowpoke.” You whisper against his mouth, earning yourself a quick bite to the bottom lip.

The Ghoul grins and quickly shows how much strength he’s regained by reversing your positions. He snatches the rope faster than you can react, and wraps the fingers of one hand loosely around the column of your throat. There’s just enough pressure to shoot a pang of arousal between your legs. Cooper knows you’re squirming, and presses a knee there to relieve some of the ache. 

“Glad t’hear it.” He murmurs into your neck, “‘Cause I sure as hell ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

#Cooper Howard #Cooper Howard x You #Ghoul x Reader #fallout imagine #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x f!reader #The Ghoul x Reader #the Ghoul x you #cooper howard x oc #fallout tv series #lucy maclean #walton goggins #fallout fiends #possessive!cooper howard #fallout #fallout 4 #fallout new vegas #ghouls deserve love too

[erwinsvow]

imagine if rafe and pogue reader’s relationship was just a bet between him and his kook friends, to see if he could ACTUALLY get her to fall in love with him, like to get her to be all over him and how long that would last, and the reader finds out omgggg. And they break up lol

you think the ending bits of the conversation between your boyfriend and his friends hurts more than everything you just overheard.

"you really think i'd settle for some fuckin' pogue pussy? nah man, top owes me fifty bucks now."

you hadn't heard the entire exchange, just from the part where you heard your name. stupidly, like a naive girl in love with the type of boy she'd only ever dreamt about, you tuned in, thinking rafe was telling his friends something you'd want to hear.

hiding—as embarassing as it is—behind the wall, holding back tears though they don't care enough to stay held back, they pour down your cheeks as the hits keep coming. the boys laugh, but the ringing in your ears had been so loud you hadn't heard the rest of the joke, didn't understand what was so funny.

the first thought in your mind is that you can't believe how stupid you were. the second is that pope and jj and john b had all been right, that it was too good to be true, that he was playing you somehow, that he was a liar and scumbag. you had ignored what your best friends had been telling you, trying so hard to believe that they were wrong, that they didn't know rafe, or at least your rafe, the one who was sweet and funny and never let you drive anywhere or pay for a thing, the one who paraded you around town like you were something who deserved to be showed off, the one who you took back to your tiny house and introduced to your hard-working parents.

you resist the urge to slide down the wall you're leaning against, though every muscle in your body wants to keel over and cry until you can't cry anymore.

you'd been embarassed enough—they didn't need to see you like this too. wiping away tears with the back of your hand, sniffling but trying to stay quiet, you wait for the boys to walk away so you could sneak out of here and pretend that you'd never even come—though you'd only come because rafe said he was having friends over and you'd baked them some snacks for their game, thought you were being a good girlfriend and doing the things a good girlfriend does.

footsteps and laughter echo in the other room—they're gone. the second it's silent, a sob wrangles itself out, eyes getting blurry again. you don't know how you're gonna bike home if you can't stop crying. your fingers fly across your screen, dialing jj's number. you'd been upset at the blond because he seemed to be the most against you and rafe dating, had the meanest things to say and was the first to insinuate there was something wrong if rafe wanted to date you.

you'd been so insulted, so hurt by his words that the two of you had gone from talking every single day to maybe once a week. you hope he doesn't hold it against you now, but a part of you knows jj never would—that's just the kind of guy he is. he answers by the second ring, and you try to stay quiet, just incase they hear you.

"j? can you come get me? i-um, i'm at tannyhill-" the last part is said with another sob, breaking into a fit of tears again. he says he's with pope and that he's coming, and you hate that they heard you cry, because knowing the two of them they'll go thirty over if they think you're upset. you wanna get out of here, but you don't want them to die.

heart thudding, eyes watery, limbs weak, you stay against that wall for a moment. before you can make your way to the door, rafe's figure steps in to where you are. he sees you before you see him—shoulders shaking, hands wiping away tears.

when you turn to look at him, it doesn't take more a second to know you heard something you shouldn't have.

"hey, listen to me-" he gets closer, and you flinch, backing away. you want to say something mean, something snarky, something that'll hurt him as much as he's hurt you. nothing comes out, and you stare back at him, and you hope he remembers how hard he's made you cry, because you've decided it then and there—you're never seeing rafe cameron ever again.

you dart past him to the door. he follows, reaching out to grab you, but you take off, running down his driveway and into the truck he recognizes as heyward's. you get in, in between pope and jj. the last thing he sees is you crying into maybank's chest while they drive you away, and the last thing he thinks is wondering what the hell he had just done.

#i actually dont like writing much angst so sorry if this sucks #this ask has been here for so long and i knew i could do something with it i just couldnt place it yet #<3 i love u jj #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Best Prom Ever 👗💞🪩

Chrissy asks Eddie to prom purely to piss off Jason, you're devastated but Eddie is so happy so you fake a smile and hide how you feel.

So much for the magical prom night you wished for, but not all hope is lost.

This is a fluffy, angsty fic but this is an 18+blog so mdni,

💌🎀

There's this crushing weight on your heart when Chrissy asks Eddie to the prom. It must feel like a dream for Eddie. So why does it feel like your heart is breaking into a million pieces?

It's meant to be just a typical boring Monday but now your whole world feels like it's been shaken.

Of course he says yes. Looks at you for a second before hand and you give him an encouraging smile, hide the way you feel like you can't breathe.

Chrissy was a sweetheart. She would be good for Eddie. You resolve to ignore the stabbing pain in your chest and plant a fake, happy smile on your face.

You knew the two of them had a budding friendship, but you never expected this. Eddie hated prom and everything it stood for and yet he was agreeing to go with Chrissy.

If you asked would he have gone with you? No, of course not. You slip away from their conversation, your ears are ringing and the deep ache in your chest is only getting worse.

You hurry to the bathroom and into a cubicle, lock the door and let out the tears you were struggling to keep at bay.

There was a small part of you that hoped Eddie would ask you to the prom. You could go together and make each other laugh, dance like idiots and be in your own little world.

The bubble was quickly burst seeing Chrissy ask Eddie. Of course he wouldn't say no. This was Chrissy you were talking about. She was the cheer captain and Hawkin High's princess.

Shakily you get up and head out to dry your tears, try to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest and put on a happy smile. For Eddie.

He has a smile on his face for the rest of the day and at lunch he's telling the rest of Hellfire Club what happened.

"I mean, Chrissy told me she asked me to prom to get back at Jason for being a douchebag but I can be a little bit excited right? This is Chrissy Cunningham, we're talking about" Eddie babbles on to you while you're eating lunch.

He's been talking about prom for the last ten minutes.

Jeff raises his eyebrows at Eddie. "Dude, what about the whole "Prom is just a bunch of bullshit, you'd never see me step one foot in conformist shit like that" Eddie pauses as he steals one of your fries then answers Jeff's question.

"Dude I still feel that way, however this is a chance to piss off Carver and I never want to miss an opportunity like that" he explains and you listen half heartedly.

This is why he was going? A revenge fantasy for him? The thought depresses you and you make a vow to yourself that you will enjoy prom night in a different way. Maybe you could stay at home, watch a bunch of horror movies or sappy, wholesome movies and binge on snacks.

That made you feel a little bit better. But there was still a small part of you that dreaded Friday night.

💌🎀

Eddie shows up at your house half an hour before prom. Well, he climbs up through your window like he always does and nearly ruins his outfit.

He looks gorgeous, he's paired his leather jacket with a black dress shirt and black jeans. He frowns as his eyes trail over you.

"Why aren't you dressed yet? Proms starting in half an hour"

"Oh, I'm not going to the dance" you shrug and Eddie gapes at you. His big brown eyes are wide and searching as you flop back down in your bed, already cosy in your comfiest nightwear and ready to binge watch your favourite movies.

"But..." You turn to him and fake a smile once again, fuck, you were getting pretty good at this.

"Go and have fun Eddie"

"It won't be the same without you princess" you feel a tug at your heart but shake your head. No. You were not giving yourself false hope that deep down Eddie had feelings for you.

"Don't be silly, you'll be with Chrissy, you'll have a great time" you assure him and he gives you a faint smile.

"But my best girl won't be there" fuck. Why did he have to say such sweet things, he's still lingering so you give him a gentle nudge to the door. He looks back at you one more time and then he's gone.

Your night of movies and binging in ice cream is interrupted by Steve. He comes into your room and is at your closet, pulling out the dress you bought for prom.

When you were secretly hoping maybe Eddie would ask you.

"Steve, what the hell are you doing?" He turns around with one hand on his hip and gives you that "Mom" stare he usually reserves for the kids.

"You're not holing up in your room feeling sorry for yourself and missing prom. I missed prom because I felt shitty about Nance and you were there for me. Now I'm returning the favor. Get dressed honey"

You're tempted but the thought of seeing Eddie with Chrissy hurts your heart all over again.

"I don't know if I can watch Eddie with Chrissy, having the time of their lives. I mean, of course I want him to have fun but do I have to see it?" Steve settles beside you and puts his arm around you.

"I'm going with you. Robin and Vickie too. Fuck Eddie Munson, you will go and have the time of your life with us, now get dressed" he orders.

"So bossy", you mutter but kiss his cheek before you take the dress into your bathroom and start getting ready .

💞💌🎀

Prom is boring. He kinda expected it but it's even worse now he's here. The music is shitty and while Chrissy is really a sweetheart, all he can think about is you.

Would prom be more fun if you were here? Absolutely yes. Jason is glaring daggers at him and that is barely giving him any satisfaction.

Chrissy is looking at him all sympathetic and that doesn't help his mood. "Is yn not coming?" She looks around for you and Eddie shakes his head glum.

"No, she's having a movie night instead" Chrissy bites her lip, looking shocked.

"It's prom. She can't miss prom" he shrugs the weight of your absence weighing heavy on him, he's so tempted to just ditch this shit and go and be with you.

Chrissy softens when she looks at him, "You're really not having a good time huh? I'm sorry, I thought at the time this would be a good idea, but you're missing your girl and well... I miss Jason" she murmurs softly and Eddie while he doesn't get how anyone could miss Carver, he does sympathise with her.

"I think I've ruined everything" he replies and the small bubble of panic inside of him grows bigger and bigger when he thinks about you on your own.

"Oh Eddie, I think you need to go and see her. You haven't ruined anything, she just doesn't know how you feel. Maybe because you realised at the last minute" Chrissy scolds him.

Doesn't realise how you feel... He goes over Chrissy's words several times before realising she's right.

He's head over heels. For you.

"Shit" Eddie yelps and ignores the way some of his classmates look their way. Chrissy still looks disappointed in him and that doesn't help either.

"Wait, why are you pissed at me?" He asks Chrissy confused, she looks at him like he's grown two heads and sighs.

"Eddie, you've left your best friend all alone while she's hurting and trying to put on a brave face because she doesn't realise that you like her back. She's been so nice to me so I'm pissed for her that it took you so long to get your head out of your ass"

Eddie winces and nods. Yup, he deserved that. Then his heart skips a beat as he repeats her words.

"You really think she feels the same?" Chrissy's glare softens and she nods. Oh fuck, yeah he had messed up.

"Oh wow" Chrissy gasps and he turns around to where she's staring at and there you are in a beautiful dress, looking ethereal and like an angel as you enter the room.

You were here after all. His heart is going a mile a minute but sinks as he sees you with Steve. Then it lightens when Robin and Vickie arrive at the same time.

Chrissy is looking at him expectantly and he swallows as he looks at you with Steve. He messed up. He should be the one making you smile like that.

"I think I'm too late. She's with Steve" he mutters and Chrissy shakes her head looking exasperated.

"Most likely as friends. Eddie I've never seen you be shy in your life so will you go and get the girl and stop being a wimp" he gapes at Chrissy's words then nods.

Yeah, he was Eddie the Brave. He could do this.

💞💞

Eddie walks over to you, he looks nervous which is rare for him. He's also staring at you in a way that makes you feel butterflies. Why wasn't he with Chrissy.

"You came" he sounds so relieved and this surprises you but he was your friend, of course he would want to see you at prom. It didn't mean anything else.

"Wait, why aren't you with Chrissy?" You ask him curiously and notice she's dancing with Jason.

"Yeah, it was a big mistake coming with her, huge. Should have taken my best girl instead of getting sucked into some dumb revenge scheme" wait...what?

"Eddie. This is Chrissy we are talking about, she's queen B and she's so sweet and kind and...' he cuts you off, his eyes softening as he gazes at you.

"She's not you" three words but there is so much meaning behind them. Oh. Well shit. Maybe there was hope after all.

"I was coming to see you. Prom isn't prom without my girl. I should have asked you because...because you're everything to me and I'm so in love with you"

Slow music begins to play, your classmates are chatting loudly, giggling but you can only focus on Eddie. "You do?" he nods and holds out his hand which you take.

"I love you too" you blurt out and he grins all dimples and happiness. Pulls you closer to him and the two of you sway to the music.

Eddie dances with you, has your hand in his and holds it over his heart. He leans down and kisses you. The whole world melts away in that moment and it's just the two of you, passionately kissing and lost in each other.

"Best prom ever" you whisper to him and lay your head on his chest. His fingers caress your hair and sway to the music with the guy you love.

🎀❤️

Take my breath away

My love, take my breath away

My love, take my breath away

My love, take my breath away

Take my breath away - Berlin

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x best friend reader #stranger things eddie munson

[theemporium]

blue-"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." nico being devastated he’s hurt and just needs to be held by his girlfriend

i made it a bit more emotional hurt than physical! thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

29. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

.

It was bittersweet. 

He knew it was coming. The team knew it was coming. The fans knew it was coming. It had been a rough year with messy strategies, tough injuries and bad luck slapping them in the face after the season they had the previous year. It was rough and it weighed down on everyone and it was shattering. 

But, deep down, there was this little spark of hope in his chest. 

Hope that they could pull through and do the impossible. Hope that they could defy the odds and make it through to the playoffs. Hope that they would click and be the amazing team he knew they could be. 

He had so much fucking hope and it was completely washed away the second that final buzzer went, the reality that they had been eliminated finally settling amongst them as they looked at each other on the ice.

But Nico stepped up. He was the captain. He had these boys looking up to him and seeking him out as a pillar of comfort and reassurance. He couldn’t be moping around the locker room, not when he had to take care of his boys first. Not when he had to face the media and drag the interview out as long as he could so the other boys didn’t have to spend too long with them. Not when he had to deal with whatever debrief meetings and logistics the coaches and team wanted to have.

They may have been eliminated but he still had his duties to perform. 

He felt like he was running on pure muscle memory by the time he left the Rock, settling behind the wheel of his car with a heavy sigh. His brain was racing with a million different thoughts as he drove home, plaguing him with what if’s and could have been’s. Despite the exhaustion settling in his body, his mind felt far too wired and overwhelming and, fuck, he just wanted it to stop. 

And then he walked through the door and saw you cuddled up on the couch, drowning in one of his hoodies and a blanket his mother had gifted you both when you moved in, and the last of his resolve crumbled.

“Hey, baby,” you murmured, your voice soft and sweet and soothing as he dropped his bags at the door and quickly made his way towards you. He didn’t even hesitate as he practically draped himself on top of you, burying his face into the fabric of your—his—hoodie.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he blurted out because the words had been on the tip of his tongue. They had been lingering in the back of his head since the season had started, had been lingering after every loss and hardship the team and fans had to face. 

“Shhh, it’s not your fault, Nico,” you cooed, your arms winding around his body to hold him tight. Because somehow you knew what was going through his head, you knew the way he was spiralling, you just knew him. “None of this is your fault.”

“Just their faces—” he cut himself off with an unpleasant sound, something stuck between a sob and a scoff. Instead, he nuzzled himself closer like he could bury himself between your ribs and stay there forever. 

“I know, baby, I know.” Your fingers ran through his hair, your nails lightly scraping along his scalp in an attempt to soothe him. “Last year wasn’t a fluke, okay? This year was the fluke. Next season will be your season, I just know it.”

“You don’t know that,” he murmured, his words twisting the self-deprecating knife lodged in his heart since the season had started going downhill. 

“I know everything,” you corrected before lightly tugging on his hair until he lifted his head. You flashed him a soft smile, your hands gently holding his face as your thumb smoothed over the small scar on his cheek. “You’re gonna lead that team to the win you all deserve, Nico. I know that. The boys know that. The fans know that.”

He could only muster a small smile.

“And I will happily remind you until you believe in yourself again,” you added before leaning over to peck his lips, feeling the tension in his body finally start to leave for the first time since he entered the apartment.

“I love you,” he murmured when he couldn’t find any other words to capture how he was feeling.

“I love you too, baby.”

.

#cece's cocktail celebration #nico hischier #nhl #new jersey devils #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x you #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier fic #nico hischier one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

[fadingdaggerr]

Hii!! I hope you've had a great day!!

So, I had this idea and I can't stop thinking about it, it's like rotating in my brain like a Rotisserie Chicken. IDK if you're still taking requests but I just had to send this.

Anyway, Melissa and reader are in someone else's house (R parents or idk some kind of sleepover with the teachers) and for some reason they can't sleep together in the same bed/room, like they're used to, which is concerning R because Melissa doesn't really sleep well alone.

But Mel tries to ease R saying she'll be just fine for one night, and very reluctantly R agrees.

Well, it turns out she can't. R and obviously a few others in the house wake up to Melissa's screaming in the middle of the night and R runs to her, shes is sobbing, shaking and clutching R for dearlife, just absolutely terrified and not even letting R move. R calm her down and take care of her, like with a lot of fluff and comfort.

I'm just obsessed with R taking care of Mel and being really sweet.

Yeah that's it. I love your stories, they are really really good. And I could only think of you when this thing came out of my brain.

+ I absolutely loved what you did in "Know I'm Alive", I was kicking my feet and internally screaming. (I sent that anon 👉👈) So thanks, I enjoyed it a lot, like a lot a lot, like, if I could I would eat that it.

You're really talented!! <3

by the sun, by the moon

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above! | 4.8k

includes: no pronoun use for r, fluff, hurt/comfort, family play fights/sibling banter, r’s family adores mel, probably ooc!mel oops

warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamic (short), attempted violence (short), mentions/insinuations of sex, one outdated traditional value, sleep difficulties/nightmares, anxiety/panic attack

note: please feel free to skip the section that discusses the unhealthy relationship dynamic/violence. it begins after the first section divide with the line “for her entire childhood…” those topics are only explicitly stated there and only referenced one other time. please do not feel as tho you need to read triggering material to understand the story, i tried to make it understandable without having to read potentially distressing content :)

Melissa’s head tips back when she hears you coming back downstairs, having been waiting for you since your mom called during The Real Housewives time. The way you’re watching your feet with furrowed brows makes her fully turn until she’s kneeling on the couch, leaning over the back to get closer to you.

“Something wrong?” Melissa asks, reaching to grab your hand to pull you closer.

You shake your head, “no, no.” Warm hands rise to cradle the redhead’s face, “how would you feel about spending the night at my parents place Saturday? They’re hosting Jonah’s birthday, wanted our help to set up the night before.”

Her eyes widen, “just Saturday night?”

“Just Saturday,” you reaffirm, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. She cautiously nods, barely moving. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it, I’m not going to make you.”

“I know, I know,” she says through her breath, “we’ll stay the night.” The kiss you press to her forehead feels heavier than just a silent thank you.

—☽—

For her entire childhood and through her marriage, Melissa slept like a rock. She slept through Kristen Marie’s and Joe’s snoring, her college girlfriend’s sleep talking, her parents having a screaming match so loud the cops got called. Before starting teaching, she even had to train herself to wake up at the sound of her alarm, knowing that being late to the school was ten times worse than being late to JC Penney.

Two years after she finally left Joe, Melissa met Eric.

Tall, charming, nice-smelling Eric with his salt-and-pepper beard always tidy, a covered up Marine tattoo on his forearm. He’d bought her drink after his friend accidentally knocked hers off the counter of the bar, and two hookups later, she was agreeing to a real date. Three months later, she was his girlfriend and allowed him into her apartment. He got to know where the spare key was hidden after a year.

Eric was everything Joe was not. During arguments, Joe would shut down and leave, only returning when he smells like cheap liquor and some other woman’s perfume. Eric always stayed, told her his point of view, listened to hers, calmly told her when she was overreacting. He was smooth, never raised a hand towards her or threw things at the walls. Melissa always knew when she was in the wrong, but he never made her feel bad about it.

Eric was particular. He liked his shirts folded a certain way, beer only from a glass, and silence when he worked. If she was excited about anything, he only ever allowed her to speak about it until he’d lost interest, almost always by the time she paused to take a breath. When he properly introduced her to his friends, his hand on her knee would tighten when she spoke. Quickly, she learned that the tighter the grip, the less she should speak. Four hours at some sports bar and Melissa had only been able to say a total of six sentences. Eric liked Melissa quiet. Melissa became quiet.

He started to prod about meeting her family, and she shut him down. Again and again. The fourth time, he banged his fist against the table, the end of his fork creating a small dent. Green eyes fixated on the dent as he began to calmly explain that he had introduced her to his family, it was her turn. Mumbling those were your buddies got her stuck on her own couch that night, clutching the blanket Nana made her before she started college.

Two months later, she began to slowly bring back Eric’s clothing to his apartment on the off-chance they went there for a night. Grading her student’s assignments began to take longer and she triple-checked the scores to waste more time, suddenly too tired to have sex or even talk before going to sleep. Otherwise, she listened to his rules, spoke when spoken to, cooked when asked.

The morning he narrowly avoided calling her a moron to her face when she made the eggs over-medium instead over-easy, she officially made her choice. That night, at the Italian restaurant he brought her to, she called it off.

“Why?” Eric asked, eyes stone, unwavering from hers.

She took a deep breath, “you treat me like a pet. Speak when spoken to, move when told, I’m sick of it.” Her grip on the table cloth tightened, “tomorrow, I will put your stuff outside. You’ll pick it up when I tell you to, and then you will leave.”

He sits back in his chair, tongue poking at his bottom lip, “and if I don’t want to break up?”

“Too bad,” she shrugs. Standing from the table, Melissa leaves him with the check and the sad excuse of Italian cuisine on the table.

At work the next day, it takes all morning, lunch, and prep to fully debrief Barbara on everything that had been going on. It made sense to the kindergarten teacher why she had yet to meet this Eric fella, but after hearing this, she knew Melissa wasn’t proud of getting herself in this situation. A promise of a wine weekend and greasy food makes Melissa truly smile. Barbara hadn’t realized how fake every little grin had been until now, she missed her best friend.

That afternoon, Melissa came home to the loose brick that hid her spare key ajar. The blood in her veins runs cold. Opening the unlocked door, glass scratches across the wooden floor, crunching under her heels. Every picture frame, the television, the radio, the coffee table, the stovetop, the tea set from her grandfather, all smashed to pieces. Holes were in nearly every wall, the stair railing broken. The entire first floor was destroyed, only upstairs was left pristine, as if nothing had happened at all. Bat in hand, she checks every closet, under her bed, in the bathtub, everywhere. He was gone.

Leaning against the wall, she slides down and sobs. Melissa is forced to make a choice she didn’t want to make. Opening her phone, she calls Joe.

Joe, despite everything he had done, was at Melissa’s house within the hour. In one hand he held a bag from the hardware store, containing new locks and keys, the other hand had his very own bat, nails pounded through the wood. Like he said when they signed the papers, just because he wasn’t in love with her, doesn’t mean he didn’t care.

Three weeks later, after things had settled and locks were changed, Melissa felt more secure. Still every night, she woke at every sound, wind and the smoke detector quickly became her mortal enemies. Bundled in her soft pajamas and thick comforter one night, she finally fell into a hard, deep sleep forced from pure exhaustion.

Paperclips, a screwdriver, and a small sheet of flexible metal are all someone needs to pick a lock and shift the deadbolt. Eric surely knew that, always the smart man, yet never the brightest. Slowly, he moved up the stairs, bourbon fueling his motions as well as his heavy steps.

A particularly loud thunk wakes Melissa, hand flying under her pillow to the bat Joe had made her promise to keep there. Another thump made her jump out of bed and to the side of her dresser with an iron grip around Edith Houghton. When her door opened, she stayed pressed into the corner, hoping she stayed hidden just long enough for him to leave so she could grab her phone.

Liquor breeds stupidity, worsens it when it is already present, and Eric had left to check the bathroom. Quickly, Melissa called the police, shakily texting Joe as she whispered to the operator. At that point, she didn’t care who got there first. She just wanted to be free of him.

She moved to a new apartment before the month even ended. Barbara insisted on cameras, which Gerald installed. Joe insisted on a nailed up bat, which he made himself. Not a night has gone by since then where she didn’t have it within arms reach of the bed.

It took six years for her to sleep again.

—☽—

The light tracing of nonsensical patterns on her abdomen is what wakes Melissa, eyes cracking open to the bright sun peeking through the curtains. She wishes now, more than ever, that she had agreed to the blackout curtains, groaning into her pillow. With the knowledge she’s now awake, several soft kisses press against her shoulder, traveling to her neck. With a sleepy grin on her face, Melissa turns to face you.

“Morning,'' you mumble against her lips, hand traveling up to her hair to separate the knots that you created. “Sleep good?”

The only response you get is a little huff that almost sounds like yeah, her face burying in your neck to hide from the light. You lay there with her, finishing your detangling mission as Melissa’s nails trace up and down your arm. A final, sound kiss lands on the crown of her head before you shuffle out from underneath her, reaching for your previous discarded university shirt and sweatpants. The redhead watches through droopy eyes, scanning over you before your pajamas cover everything she adores.

“Gotta get up, beautiful,” you say through a yawn as you walk out the room, “we need to be leaving for one.” A tiny groan escapes her lips as she rises from the bed, though a small smile crosses her lips when she sees your sweatshirt thrown over the chair in the corner, just waiting for her.

Not even halfway down the stairs, there’s a clatter from the kitchen and a quiet exclamation of fuck. “You’re not even awake and you want me up,” Melissa says as she walks to the coffee maker. She’s met with a small slap on her ass in return, not even caring to be embarrassed of the girlish giggle she lets out.

Whose fault it is that you’re late leaving, who could tell? Between the forgoing packing and wrapping your cousin’s present last night for a taste of Melissa and her lack of pants this morning, it’s hard to say. Nothing that going a gentle twenty over on the highway can’t mend.

Driving up the dirt road, the dense trees thinned and your parent’s yellow house came into view. Your father’s questionably functional truck sits in the front of the garage, your mom and brother’s cars parked close together on the lawn. Seeing the way your hands tighten on the steering wheel, Melissa slides her hand from your elbow to the free hand on your thigh, playing with your rings to calm you. Being at your parents house was always overwhelming, fun, but overwhelming.

Narrowly avoiding scraping the side, you pull in next to your brother’s car. Looking at each other, you and Melissa give each other a nod of we got this. She’d been over here before, she’d been to three family reunions and almost every birthday party, but never had you two stayed the night, always being some of first to leave to sleep in your own bed.

With a little grunt, you hop out of the car and jog to Melissa’s side to open her door. She gives you a half glare when you tap her hand away from helping carry the bags in, you never let her lift a finger, if you can help it.

“Well, look who decided to show up!”

Both you and Melissa jump at your mother’s yell from the porch, bangles clanking together as she widely waves to the both of you. Gravel crunches under her feet as she rushes over to the two of you, immediately pulling Melissa into a hug. Before you were banned from saying it, you used to joke that your parents preferred your girlfriend to their own child. The giant smile on Melissa’s face when she interacts with your family makes it worth it.

Tumbling upstairs, you bring your bags into your childhood bedroom with Melissa close behind. Even with every time she had been here, she loved being in your room. It was a time capsule of your life before college, all the posters of bands and movies still hanging on the walls, trinkets covering every space. She particularly loved the little collection of rocks on your bookshelf, clearly in order from favorite to least favorite.

The bed bobs as you both drop onto the mattress, groaning at the comfort after three hours in the car. You turn your face towards her, leaning to press a kiss to her shoulder, “I love you.”

Melissa leans in closer, “I love you, too.” She watches your eyes flick to her lips, beating you to the chase and pressing her lips to yours softly. It takes every ounce of effort to not moan at your tongue tracing her lip, her hand coming up to grip your shirt and keep you close. Stomping up the stairs makes you both jump apart, feeling like teenagers getting caught, not that the room was helping.

The door opens to show your dad, boots trekking in dirt that will inevitably get him in trouble with your mom. The hand not on the doorknob is over his eyes, “you two better be decent. Ma has lunch ready downstairs and clothing is probably mandatory.”

“Knock it off,” you mumble as you shuffle towards him so he can give your head a gentle noogie. Neither of you were big on hugs, only really being physically affectionate with your partners, but the love is always clear in every fistbump and hand on your shoulder.

You and Melissa trail behind your father as he goes to the kitchen, both fighting laughs after nearly getting caught by your dad. However, the second your mom peers over at the two of you, you both act like you had been silent the whole time, eyes flicking around in feigned innocence.

Lunch is a mismatch of all the foods your mom made for the birthday party the next day, making you all be her taste testers, even if she only really wants Melissa’s opinion as the other cook in the family. Pasta salad, potato salad, mac and cheese, shortcake, even some chicken with her new lemon pepper recipe. You and your brother fight over who gets first dibs on the pasta salad, ending with his wife taking the serving spoon from your hands and grabbing some for herself.

“Act your age,” Kennedy says to her husband, making you laugh, before she gives you a sharp glance, “that goes for you, too.” Melissa turns away to unsuccessfully hide her own laugh from you.

Lunch ends with your mom and your brother arguing over another serving of macaroni, “we need food for tomorrow! Fuck’s sake, Marcus.”

—☽—

Your father divides everyone into groups to set up the backyard. Your mother takes Melissa and Kennedy to help set up the tables and lights, forcing you and Marcus to help your father with the tent, bonfire pit, and yardgames.

Getting all the yardgames for the little cousins was the easy part, even if it took a while because the three of you had to play a game of cornhole before you could do anything else. None of you got a single one in after two turns, making you all set into defeat, the game was agreed between the three of you to be stupid now. With your father taking a break now, getting the tent together was a doomed venture with you and Marcus.

“If you don’t let me hold it up, it’s gonna keep falling.”

“Fuck off! No, it won’t,” Marcus says with confidence, trying to stand the tent all at once before securing it. Four had already fallen, and a job that should only take twenty minutes was taking nearly an hour.

“How is it gonna stay up if nothing’s holding it, huh? Thought you knew everything?” He flips you off and doesn’t answer, continuing putting the spike in the ground, though without the other end being held up, the weight pulls it down again. Giving up, you walk away and attempt to find your dad for something else to do. You stop in your tracks, just step from the patio.

Watching Melissa with your family always makes butterflies erupt in your chest. She used to be so nervous around them, uncharacteristically quiet and meek, but now she’s almost as carefree with them as she is with her own. The sunlight makes her hair shine, and it’s damn near impossible to look away. It seems you’re of similar mind, her head turning towards you, fighting a grin when she sees the dopey grin on your face.

You almost start to walk towards her, but a strong hand pulls you back. Your dad pushes the hatchet into your hands, “you’re on firewood duty.”

“Bu-”

“Nope, you’re not slinking off to your girl. Go chop the wood, Casanova,” he says as he walks back to help Marcus with the tent.

It’s hours before you even get a chance to see Melissa again, as if your parents were keeping you apart. Which they were, knowing that you’d ignore everything you had to do if it meant you got to just look at Melissa. By the time you got back inside, the button up you’d been wearing was abandoned on a lawn chair and you were out of breath. How much firewood does one bonfire even need?

Walking in the backdoor into the kitchen, Melissa is leaning against the counter, her eye on the mixer filled with what will be cheesecake going to your tanktop clad form as she chats with Kennedy. Creeping up beside her, you wrap an arm around her waist and press a lingering kiss to her cheek, mumbling a greeting into her skin before trudging upstairs to shower the sweat and dirt off.

—☽—

By the end of the night, everyone is half-awake and struggling to keep their eyes open as a TV movie drones on. Neither you or Melissa are paying attention, too wrapped up in one another in the arm chair. Legs dangling over the arm, Melissa is seated on your lap, head tucked into your shoulder as you mindlessly play with her hair. The hand on the back of your neck stops its soft ministrations, her breathing slowing as she fights falling asleep.

You speak quietly for only her to hear, “you ready for bed?” She just nods against you, and you tap her legs to prompt her to move. Her hands hold onto your arm to steady herself, wavering where she stands.

“Alright, we’re calling it. Night guys, we’ll see you in the morning,” you announce into the room as Melissa starts going towards the stairs, not trusting her ability to speak when she’s this tired. You get a quiet chorus of night before you walk to the stairs, but your mother’s voice stops your movements.

“Jellybean, could you do me a favor and take the trash out before you head upstairs?” she asks without taking her eyes off the TV.

You internally groan before nodding, turning to Melissa, “go up, baby. I’ll be right there.”

This catches your mother’s attention, immediately moving to face you, “you mean to say ‘goodnight,’ right?”

“What?”

Her eyebrows rise, “you’re saying goodnight, then going to your room. Right?” Melissa’s blood immediately runs cold, color draining from her face. If she was tired two minutes ago, she was wide awake now.

“No...” you say slowly, confused, “why would Mel not also be in there?” You peak over your shoulder to Melissa, giving her a look before your attention is back on your mother.

“So, you’re staying in the guest room? Or is Melissa?”

Your face screws up, “Neither of us? My room’s got a full, that’s fine for us.”

“No.”

“Hell you mean ‘no,’ Ma? Marcus and Kennedy are sharing a full, it’s not a huge deal,” you hear Melissa step down from the stairs, her shaky hand holding your elbow.

“Marcus and Kennedy are married, unlike you two. I know you live together, but my roof, my rules. You know that,” she says matter-of-factly. The other three people in the room pointedly avoid looking at you, not wanting to get on your mom’s bad side.

You argue back, “that’s fucking ridiculous, Ma. We are grown adults, in a relationship.” The arched brow on your mother’s face tells you that you shouldn’t be arguing, but she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know about the panic that is starting to eat away at Melissa’s veins at the sudden thought of sleeping without you, something she hasn’t done once in over three years now.

“No rings, two beds. Don’t think I won’t be checking.”

Not wanting to make more of a scene, Melissa tugs on your arm to gain your attention. Turning to her, you can see the silent plea in her eyes for you to give it up. Shoulders sagging, you let out a grumbled fine. Breaking away from her, you go to the kitchen and roughly pull the trash from the bin. It takes a great deal of effort to not slam the door as you stomp to the garage. When you come back in, you don’t bother saying anything to anyone, just wrapping an arm around Melissa to guide her upstairs.

When you get into your room, you shut the door and lean against it with a huff. The two of you silently change into your pajamas, moving slowly from exhaustion and an attempt to prolong your time together. Melissa turns away to fold her clothes on the bed, and you move to wrap your arms around her waist, propping your chin on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I’ll stay in here tonight. Not like she can’t ground me anymore.”

Melissa turns in your arms, loosely wrapping her own around your shoulders, “it’s alright, I’ll be fine. I don’t want her mad at you for my sake.”

“Baby-”

“Don’t do that,” she says, though the sigh in her voice gives away her uncertainty, “I’ll be okay, amore.”

Your eyes scan over her face before you nod. Her arms pull you closer, noses brushing before she presses a sound kiss to your lips. Melissa’s arms shift and her hands cup your face, moving your head to press kisses to your cheeks, forehead, and chin, until the sour look on your face disappears.

Tugging her into you, you bury your head into her neck, pressing a long kiss there. From her neck you mumble, “I’ll be in the room right next door.”

“I’ll survive in the guest room, this is your bedroom,” she says, though she doesn’t fully mean it.

“What’s mine is yours. Plus, this one’s more comfortable, you’ll thank me later,” you hug her tighter, “so... I will be next door.”

“I told you, I’ll be fine,” she says. It’s more for her than you this time. Three years. Three years of falling asleep with you still awake beside her and waking up with you already looking at her.

You walk her back towards the bed, getting in with her, though not under the covers. With everyone, especially your mother, you don’t think it’ll hurt to stay until Melissa falls asleep. Her back presses to your front, hand holding yours to her chest, fast beating heart beneath. In a hushed voice, you speak about little things that don’t matter in hopes that it will calm her enough. Slowly her breath evens out, face burying into the pillow as it always does when you hold her like this.

Carefully, you detangle yourself from her and press a kiss to her hair, “I love you.” Stepping out of the room slowly, you leave the door cracked just a little and eye Melissa before turning. At the top of the stairs is your mother, brows raised.

“You better be going to your own bed,” she says quietly, though her tone is hard.

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “I am. Just had to make sure Melissa was asleep first.” You try to go into the room next door, but your mom’s face is silently asking for context, “she doesn’t sleep well. Different place, different sleeping arrangement, it’s difficult.”

You don’t particularly appreciate the dismissive way your mom just nods before walking towards the master bedroom, clearly thinking it was just an excuse, but it’s too late to fight about it. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you can wake up and crawl into bed with Melissa before she wakes. You watch the crack in the door and listen for Melissa until sleep comes over you.

—☽—

Something wakes you just past three in the morning, an ear splitting scream coming from next door. At first, you think it’s just your own anxiety, closing your eyes slowly. A second scream, this time of your name, and you’re springing out of bed, throwing the door open hard enough to bounce off the wall and slam shut. Four steps bring you to your childhood bedroom, rapidly swinging the door open to run in, not noticing the others joining you in the hall.

When you get into the room, moonlight illuminates Melissa where she’s sitting up with a hand gripping her shirt as she breathes in quick, panicked pants, eyes flying around the room until they land on you. Before she can even reach for you, you’re practically pouncing on the bed to get in front of her. Your hands go to her shoulders, her own gripping your forearms, her watery eyes darting around your face. Taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, you motion for Melissa to mimic you, trying to slow her rapid breath and heart.

Short gasps become slow, shaky breaths as panic begins to fade and tears form. A whimper of your name makes you pull her into you, her arms gripping your shirt and she cries into your neck. Between broken sobs, only the words window, knife, and everywhere and mention of a him come through, but you understood. This wasn’t the first time Eric’s actions haunted her at night, though it had been nearly two years since she’d woken up in a sweat.

Peeking over your shoulder, you see your parents and brother in the doorway. The look you give your mother is filled with anger and a raised brow that says I told you to listen. The clear fury makes your father pull her back towards their own room, pushing your brother to his. Some level of courtesy hits your mom, closing the door fully before she gets tugged away.

Attention back on Melissa, you alternate between playing with the ends of her hair and lightly dragging your nails over her back under her shirt. You tuck her hair behind her ear, tacky from tears, “you’re safe, Mel. Nothing and no one’s going to hurt you, I promise. I wouldn’t let them.”

Rocking side to side gently, you feel her breathing return to normal, body no longer shaking from tears. Trying not to jostle her, you turn your body to lay down with her, keeping her tucked into your neck with your arms around her. Pressing a kiss to her head, you slide an arm down to grab her hand, lacing your fingers together.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, just below your ear.

You squeeze her hand, “you never have to apologize for this. If anything, I’m the one that should be sorry. I should have stayed.”

She sniffled, “I’m a grown woman, I should be able to sleep alone.”

“And I should be able to stand up to my mother about sleeping in the same bed as my girlfriend, yet here we are,” you say jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

Thankfully, she chuckles, the vibration on your skin making you smile, “so it’s all your fault.”

“I’ll gladly take the blame,” you mumble as you settle into the bed more, relaxing as you feel the redhead relax against you.

In a sudden move, Melissa props herself up over you, hair dangling in your face. Leaning down, she kisses your forehead, then each cheek, and finally your lips, long and loving. It’s a quiet thanks that she will never owe you.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you more,” you whisper back.

It takes half an hour for sleep to creep back in, Melissa’s breathing growing slow where she rests on your chest, your heart beating under her ear. When she eventually falls back asleep against your chest, you stay awake and trace lines on her back. You’ll gladly stand guard if it means she sleeps peacefully, stay awake if it means she’s safe.

note: solaris write a fic under 3k like u planned challenge good lord man. also thank you thank you for the compliment, it’s an honor to be the first person u thought of to write this. i hope i did ur vision justice <3

as always, feedback appreciated <3

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #lgbtq fanfiction #lesbian #lgbtq

[serverusslaype]

Shameless, pt. 16

Severus Snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

not another one... oh yes it is... and please, respectfully, strap yourselves in cos it's gonna be a ROUGH RIDE. and not in the way you're thinking, sorry, but get your minds out the gutters. gosh.

in other news, i hope you're all doing okay. part 17 won't be for a while as i'm back to work tomorrow and i'm going to be tired because i stupidly ruined my sleeping schedule the past few days. massive L.

i hope you've all had a brilliant day, and thank you so much for all the love and kind, sweet comments you left on part 15, it really made my day when i read through them this morning :') i'll reply to them all when i have some extra time this week!! <3 remember to take care of yourselves, please. and enjoy this. <3

warnings: swearing, slight altercation?, angst

A pair of cold hands grasped your scarlet cheeks, forcing you to look up and into their eyes in a desperate manner. "Bloody hell, Y/N," Remus whispered, his face twisting into an anxious mix of worry and concern. Gradually, you let your tearful eyes slink up meet his own, and another sob fell from your quivering lips. "I should have stayed, I'm so sorry." He sighed. You watched as his brows slipped together; hazel eyes flicking between yours as he brushed his thumbs gently against the apples of your cheeks.

"It's not your fault, Remus, please-" You shook your head viciously and squeezed your eyes shut, letting your head fall forwards. 

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Remus asked, his voice soft as a feather, cautious not to startle you.

"Yes- no, I... my shoulder, it hurts," You whined and winced as you lifted your head up to lean back against the cabinets of your kitchenette behind you. Another intense, piercing pain shot through your shoulder. "Fuck!" You hissed. Remus cast a furious glance in the direction of Ben's unconscious body.

"We're going to have to take you to Madam Pomfrey, Y/N," the professor sighed quietly, "I'm afraid Dumbledore will need to hear of this... matter." Instantly, your eyes darted to Remus and you sucked in a breath.

"No, I'm fine, honestly- please," you shook your head, "there's no point, I won't be here after he wakes up anyway." A defeated sigh left your lips as you let your eyes slide to where Ben laid, the burning words that he'd spat at you like vicious venom replayed in your head on repeat.

"What do you mean?" Remus frowned at you.

"He found out about Severus." A dry, pathetic laugh slipped from you. "He figured it out."

"What-" Though, before Remus could even finish his question, you interrupted him.

"He went through my drawers in my greenhouse."

"I'm not following." The professor offered you an apologetic, yet perplexed look.

You inhaled a deep, slow breath through your nose. "Severus had been leaving me notes everytime he'd taken something from my cabinets, be it asphodel roots or dittany.. so, in my pathetic way, I... kept them." You muttered, reluctantly glancing up at Remus, watching his eyes soften. You looked away, unable to stomach how he looked at you with pity. "In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have, but I was blinded by my feelings for him, and so... then when I had first started seeing Ben, he had also left me notes. But, of course, I didn't really care for him the same way I did Severus, so I shoved them at the bottom of my drawers, beneath..." You trailed off, unable to finish your thoughts. You felt so silly, pathetic.

"I see." Remus said softly, noting how you were struggling. His gentle voice silently soothed your racing mind.

You took a few seconds to speak your next words, still unable to understand the gravity of the situation you'd put yourself in. In fact, it felt like you didn't even want to acknowledge it. "Ben threatened to have me fired, and then blacklisted for every job in this area. So, Remus, I'm screwed, to say the least."

The professor paused for a moment, pondering on his thoughts. You were praying he'd speak soon before you went insane from the way your mind was beginning to chaotically brew up storms of worst case scenarios.

"Not quite," Remus's lips quirked up into a small, comforting smile. You could only frown at him in utter confusion. "It's not the most... erm, ...humane way of solving such a problem, however it is the only way." Your eyes widened at his choice of words.

"Remus, you're scaring me, what on Earth are you suggesting?" You whispered, eyebrows furrowing together in what could only be described as fear.

"We're going to need the help of another wizard, I'm afraid." He replied and stood up, groaning a tad. "Ever heard of the spell, Obliviate?"

The damp stench of the dungeons of Hogwarts was wildly familiar and a little emotionally testing for you as you stumbled down the corridors with Remus; his hand placed caringly upon your back. The amber glow of the lit torches illuminated the darkened path, and the quiet squelch of the wet, mossy floor echoed throughout the empty corridors as the two of you padded towards Snape's classroom.

"I'm sorry to have to put you through this." Remus mumbled from beside you, and you felt his fingers press into the back of you. "But Severus is the only wizard I know that's meddled with minds here at Hogwarts."

"It's alright." You swallowed awkwardly as the anxious and speedy beats of your heart began to pound in your ears once more. "He never liked Ben, so I'm sure he'll take great pride in performing such a spell on him." You joked dryly, earning a curt laugh from the professor beside you. A little smile formed on your lips at the sound of it.

"Even in dark times, your brilliant humour shines through." Remus hummed, offering a warm smile as he glanced down at you.

There was a moment of silence as you let yourself wander through the labyrinth of your mind.

"Do you think it will work?"

"Absolutely," Remus answered quickly, "though Severus and I have never truly seen eye to eye, I still acknowledge the fact that he's an incredibly accomplished wizard." He said, shrugging. "I haven't met many other wizards in my time that have come close to his abilities."

You let his words simmer in your brain for a moment, and suddenly you felt a little more at ease. Not that you doubted Severus, but from what Lupin had explained about the Obliviate spell, you were slightly worried. Would Ben remember something and come back with a vengeance? No, there was no way... right? He's not that... petty.

Before you could even finish your train of thought, three loud knocks from Remus's knuckles broke you from your daydream.

Almost immediately you wanted to run away from the door in front of you. But from the way Remus's hand was glued to your back stopped you from doing so.

The door to Severus's classroom creaked open, and all of the blood from your body felt as if it had drained away the moment the two of you locked eyes.

"Severus," Remus greeted quietly.

"Y/N." Severus muttered, his tone confused as his eyes snapped to Lupin beside you, and then down to his arm around your back. A short, sharp exhale of breath left his nostrils, and you knew that he wasn't too pleased about what he was seeing. "Lupin..." He drawled as he flicked his eyes back to yours, then to Remus's own. "What brings you here?" His voice was agitated, nothing new. You let your eyes fall away from the Potions Master, unable to look at him without having some sort of whirlwind of emotions stir up inside of you.

"May we come in? It's a matter of urgency." The professor beside you spoke with a serious tone that forced a curious frown to appear on Severus's pale face. Without saying anything, Severus moved aside in one swift motion and allowed his door to creak further open, silently inviting you and Remus inside.

Had it been just Lupin here, you knew he wouldn't have been so trusting.

Glancing up, you caught Severus's eye again, and that wave of gut-wrenching yearning had returned to your heart. As you looked away, you didn't see the way his eyes softened at you, wordlessly wishing he could return to the way the two of you had been.

Lupin guided you inside with his arm, earning another harsh glare from Snape as he passed by him. "Take a seat, Y/N." The shaggy professor mumbled, pulling out a stool for you to perch on. You obliged, of course.

"What do you so desperately need from me?" Snape drawled, sweeping his way towards you and Lupin; his biting glare quite obviously screaming at you to hurry up and talk. Wasn't it so kind of him to treat you like you were some sort of irritating insect, and not someone he cared about, albeit a little?

You clenched your jaw, swallowing as you opened your mouth to speak, but Lupin beat you to it. "Bluewater threatened to have her fired and blacklisted from every job in the area." Severus's black brows immediately shot together in confusion, then quickly softened, quite obviously realising why he'd demand such a thing. "If she is to keep her job and reputation, we need you to perform the memory erasing spell on him."

Of course, Severus would do anything for you, at this point, he'd kill for you. So killing the memories of a man he truly loathed was an easy ask.

"Done." The Potions Master cast a concerned glance at you, before looking back to Lupin. "Truth be told, it'd be my pleasure." Again, Severus looked back at you with his worrisome black eyes, staring, swiftly scattering themselves over your form; quietly trying to figure out whether you were hurt or not. 

You noticed his quiet inspection. "I'm fine." You mumbled, sighing softly as you avoided his eyes once more, shuffling in your seat - but as you moved, your face twitched into a wince as your injured shoulder betrayed you.

"Yes, clearly you are." Severus muttered sarcastically as he padded towards you, reluctantly lifting a hand toward your arm. Your eyes snapped up to his, and you blinked at him, your jaw ticking with either anxiety or anger - you couldn't figure out which. "May I?" He whispered.

You gave a nod and turned your torso towards him, allowing him to inspect your injury. The second his fingers touched your skin, it ignited like a wildfire. You inhaled sharply, your body freezing at the way he trailed them down to your shoulder.

"I'll be outside." Remus muttered, noticing that perhaps the two of you need to be alone. He shuffled his way towards the door, and slipped out of it, the quiet thud and click of the handle signifying he'd left.

"Did he do this to you?" Severus muttered through gritted teeth, brushing his thumb over the colourful blotch that was beginning to appear upon the skin he used to worship. He hissed at the sight of your bruised skin, it was like someone had ruined a beautiful painting and thrown some sort of hideous concoction onto it.

He should have known better than to abandon you like that. Bluewater had always been a wildcard. He should have stayed by your side, he shouldn't have let his emotions get the better of him like he always did. Maybe then you wouldn't have this... abomination painting your flesh black and blue. Severus would never forgive himself for falling into the foolish trap of his insecurities. He'd never forgive himself for ever listening to the deranged demons that resided within his mind, silently calling him into the darkness; their devilish, silver tongues persuading him to fade into the lonely void.

You and Severus sat in silence for a moment, and your eyes had been glued to the ground ever since the Potions Master laid his hands on you. If you looked into his eyes whilst he was so close to you, you weren't exactly sure if you could stop yourself from doing something utterly stupid.

"Where is he?" Severus suddenly mumbled, a burning hot fire of rage and vengeance was quickly spreading throughout his body.

"My chambers, but-"

"Stay here." Severus immediately began to storm towards the door of his classroom, his long black cape billowing behind him with a vengeance that matched its wearer.

"Severus, don't hurt him!" You cried out, leaning forwards to try and grab his arm. You gasped as your injured shoulder unleashed an unbearable pain across your back, making you squeeze your eyes shut in agony.

"Don't hurt him? Look at what he's done to you!" Severus whipped around, furious. "You can barely move your shoulder without wincing like a wounded deer!" He stormed back towards you, and for the first time in a while, the irate look in his eyes truly frightened you. If looks could kill, you'd be dead on the ground. Though, he was not angry at you, his anger was only focused on one man.

"I don't care! Think about what could happen to you if the Ministry found out you harmed one of their own!" You exclaimed, praying that Severus would see through his blinding anger and choose to not do something foolish to Ben, despite how fierce his wrath was.

Severus paused for a moment as if to contemplate your words - though his consideration of your opinion was cut short as he whipped around once more; that vicious fire exploding inside of him like a deadly inferno. He was truly devoted to the thought of inflicting more harm than necessary to Bluewater.

At this point, you couldn't stop him. There was no way you could follow him with your injury. You watched on helplessly as he sweeped out of the classroom, slamming the door behind him. There was only one other person that could help you.

"Remus!" You yelled, cursing your weakened shoulder as you stood, breathing sharply in a dire attempt to lessen the pain that was slowly burning its way through your torso. "Remus!" You yelled once more, and immediately the door swung open, his familiar face adorned with an utterly worried look.

"What's wrong?" He questioned, quickly rushing over to you.

"It's Severus, he's gone to find Ben, you need to stop him, please," You panted, desperately grabbing onto the the material of his suit jacket that sat on his bicep. "I don't want him to do something he'll regret."

"Merlin," Remus muttered and nodded, turning swiftly to rush after the Potions Master. "Will you be alright?" He stopped to ask, running a stressed hand through his hair.

"Yes, yes, I'll be fine, now, please just go!" You sighed heavily and leaned against a table beside you, hissing as your shoulder was now screaming at you in horrific pain. You were truly starting to worry now, had you fractured it- or broken it? Ben had shoved you quite harshly...

Your eyes darted around Severus's classroom, lingering on the potion ingredients that lined the wall. The only thing you could do was wait.

Or potentially brew a potion to help your agonising pain...

Severus's thunderous footsteps echoed hauntingly throughout the castle corridors as he stormed his way to your chambers; his fingers twitching at his sides, eagerly awaiting the chance to lay his hands upon Bluewater, the way he did to you.

That rotten bastard, Severus thought, he could kill him without a second thought right now. In fact, in the very back of the Potion Master's mind, he was truly considering it. The only thing Severus wanted to hear right now was Bluewater's bloodcurdling screams as he made him suffer through either physical or mental hell. All he had to do was lock the door, cast muffliato, and go to town. That was all too tempting for Snape. It was too easy. And that's what scared him.

As he neared your chambers, a stream of warm light began to pour out from underneath the door, and Severus deduced that Ben had awoken from Remus's spell. He quickly softened his footsteps and snuck towards your door, donning his wand in his hand. There was two ways he could go about this - he could barge in and surprise the bastard, or he could do it quietly. Perhaps the latter would be a little less idiotic.

Severus pushed your door open gradually with his hand, cautiously moving forwards as he pointed his wand into your chambers. A pained groan came from the floor, and the professor cast his eyes downwards and was met with an embarrassing mess shuffling around on it. Just the back of his head sent Severus into an blinding furious spiral, and he stormed towards him, grabbing the back of his top to hoist him upwards onto his feet. 

"Get th'fuck offa' me!" Bluewater drawled, still groggy from Remus's spell as he pathetically tried to fight the Potion Master's hand that had a hold of his flimsy shirt. Relentlessly, Snape dragged him through the room, the scratching sound of Bluewater's shoes scraping across the wooden floor and Snape's pounding footsteps filled the silence. He yanked the boy upwards and dropped him on his arse, watching in delight as a pained look flashed across his face.

"Watch your mouth, Bluewater," Snape snarled, poking the tip of his wand into his neck, earning a glare from the boy.

"You." Bluewater spat, his eyes narrowing into a glare. "You sonuva' bitch! You slimy fuckin' bastard, how dare you-"

"How dare I? How dare you lay a finger on her!" Snape bellowed at Bluewater, his teeth bared in a ferociously fearsome scowl.

"I never touched her." Bluewater's lips quirked into a vile smirk, and this only fuelled Snape's burning hatred for the boy. Without a second thought, he kicked the side of Bluewater, sending him tumbling onto his side, screeching in pain.

"Don't lie to me, Bluewater!" Snape growled as he fisted the front of his shirt, pulling him up to his towering height, the tips of his toes barely grazing the floor. 

"You miserable git," The boy hissed through gritted teeth as he had one hand glued to his throbbing side. "She'll never work again, Snape. All because of you."

"Don't push me, you foolish boy." Snape huffed, his chest heaving uncontrollably as his anger got the best of him.

"In fact, neither will you." Bluewater added, his tone cocky and ignorant. Snape couldn't control himself any longer, and so he threw the boy to the ground again rather harshly, forcing a cry of pain from him. He felt nothing. Nothing but hot rage.

"Severus!" Remus suddenly called out from behind him, panting. "Expelliarmus!"

Snape's wand fell to the ground.

Remus felt his blood run cold as Snape turned to look at him with a face like a maddened bull. "Just... calm down, Severus, take a moment," The professor said softly, holding out a hand to try and defuse the situation. As he stared at the furious Potions Master, he was sure he could see red-hot steam pouring out of his ears. "You don't want to do this, Severus. Believe me." Snape's shoulders rose and fell rigidly as he looked on in disbelief at Lupin. "Y/N wouldn't want this."

Your name rolled off of Lupin's tongue like a bullet into Severus's chest.

"You must've drugged her," Bluewater spoke again, his voice making Snape's eye twitch, "there's no way in hell that she'd choose to be with you. She hates you. The amount of shit we used to talk about you, Merlin..." The boy knew he was getting underneath Snape's skin.

"Severus," Remus tried again helplessly. "Don't react."

"Silence!" Snape practically snarled at Bluewater as the seething blaze inside of him ignited once more.

"You don't deserve her, and you never will. You really think she'd fall for some ugly, pathetic and old git like you? Perhaps all that time in the potion classroom made you delusional." Bluewater spat, shuffling forwards on the ground. "You should ask her about what happened earlier, between us, I bet you'd-"

"Stupefy!" Remus yelled, aiming his wand at Bluewater, watching as his body fell limp once more.

Snape stared at Ben's unconscious body, his mind suddenly becoming a warzone after his last words before Remus had knocked him out. What happened earlier between you and Ben? Were his thoughts true? Was Bluewater right? Did you hate him?

"Severus,"

"What?!" Snape hissed, turning to face Lupin with a hideous look upon his face. Lupin offered an apologetic cock of his head, before nodding at Bluewater.

"The memories..." Remus muttered. Snape clenched his jaw at the words.

Memories. Right.

The Potions Master slowly padded over to Bluewater, pointing his wand at his temple. He paused for a moment, contemplating his next move.

"Legilimens." Snape whispered, shutting his eyes as he delved into Bluewater's memories. Snippets of him as a child, happy and screaming with laughter flashed before Snape's eyes, and so he continued deeper, watching the moment he met you in the pub, and when you spent the first night together. The professor hissed at the sight as a pang of hurt and jealousy struck him in his chest. He pushed through, skimming through more and more memories, finally finding the one thing he was looking for. It was you and Ben, sharing a glass of wine in your bedroom earlier on.

He'd stood up and stumbled towards you, clearly drunk. "I miss talkin' to you, Y/N." He sighed, taking his hand and placing it upon your cheek; carressing it with his thumb.

"Yeah." You'd replied. Severus felt his heart drop at this point.

Slowly, Ben crouched down until you two were eye-level, his hands slipping to your ankles. Severus felt his skin suddenly ignite with jealousy. "Ben.." You warned, sighing.

"Whaat?" Ben had whispered back, heavy-lidded eyes still glued to yours as his fingers began to trail up your calves. He began to stand up slightly, pushing his face dangerously close to yours, and so you leant backwards, your back gradually making contact with the bed. He shuffled forwards slightly, pressing a knee against the edge of the bed to balance himself.

Severus watched on in horror as you shut your eyes. Ben's fingers lingered along the backs of your soft thighs, pulling a breathy sigh from your lips. Slowly, you opened your eyes again as Ben's nose pressed into your neck, followed by his wet lips. You gasped as his hands found your torso, his fingers pressing into your flesh.

Immediately, Severus pulled out of Ben's mind. He couldn't watch anymore. He was right. Merlin, he was right. For a moment, he inhaled sharply, quickly regaining his composure. "Obliviate." He muttered swiftly, filtering through Ben's memories and erasing every single one that contained you or Severus.

"A job well done." Remus said awkwardly as he watched Severus sheath his wand. He frowned as he stared at the back of the raven-haired wizard, silently pondering why he hadn't moved. He stood there for another good few seconds, staring wordlessly at Ben's unconscious body. Then suddenly, he spun on his heel, storming past Remus and shouldering him rather harshly. He couldn't bear to look at anyone that reminded him of you, and unfortunately for Remus, he fell under that now.

He berated himself for even letting himself get so close to you. How could he have done this to himself? Of course you didn't just want him. He was just some sort of... twisted fantasy to you. And yet, he was still willing to help you get out of this mess. That's the undeniable power of love, he supposed.

Once you were free, he'd let you go.

As Severus walked away, he could hear Remus calling his name, but he turned a blind eye and focused on marching back to his domain, the one place he felt at home, even though it used to be your arms.

You coughed and sputtered as the smoke from the cauldron in front of you began to get a little too thick, lining your lungs with what felt like some sort of tar. Perhaps you added a little too much puffer-fish. It did smell a little... oceany. A defeated groan left your lips as you let your head hit the table - after all these years you still royally fucked up potions. Severus wasn't going to be too happy that you'd burned another one of his precious cauldrons.

Suddenly, the slam of a door caught you offguard and you jumped at the loud noise, whipping around to see a rather distraught-looking Snape. That was not what you were hoping for.

"Severus? Everything okay?..." You swallowed, watching as he slowly stalked towards you, completely ignoring the burning smell of the cauldron in front of you. He didn't answer you. "Did you manage to erase them? The memories?" You tried again.

"Yes." Was all he said, his eyes burning into yours with what felt like sorrow.

"What happened?"

"Why did you lie to me?" He suddenly asked, catching you offguard.

"What?"

"You were going to stay with him." He stated matter of factly, his voice quivering a tad as he tried to hide the indescribable hurt that was undoubtedly going to eat him alive.

"That's not true, Severus." You shook your head, your brows knitting together in a wild mix of confusion and hurt. His jaw clenched at your words.

"Do not lie to me!" Severus bellowed, sweeping away from you. You flinched at the volume of his voice.

"I'm not!" You cried out, attempting to follow him as he made his way to his desk. "Severus!" You cried again, making him whip around to face you, his eyes overflowing with hurt and misdirected anger.

"I do not have time for liars, Y/N."

"Severus, just please, explain what happened!"

"What happened between you and Bluewater earlier?" He inhaled with the same sharpness that pierced his chest as he spoke those nightmarish words. 

Gods, how did he know about that? Ben must have said something to get back at him. You cursed the little bastard, but at the same time, this was also your doing. You gave into the selfish pleasure.

"He just kissed my neck, that was it, I promise." You said slowly, praying he'd believe you. Severus stared down at you, unwavering, his eyes glossing over. Your heart broke at the sight.

Perhaps you deserved this.

Severus paused for a moment, letting his black eyes study your petrified face. Clearly, you were terrified of losing him. He could see it in your eyes. That broke him. But it did not break him as much as the hellish thing he saw in Bluewater's mind. "I can't trust you."

This was your karma.

It suddenly felt as if the floor had given way beneath your feet. Your knees went weak, and all trace of feeling in your body went numb like you'd been paralysed. "No, Severus- please, you have to believe me-"

"I'm sorry, Y/N." Severus turned away from you as he felt a wave of unruly sadness and betrayal wash over him - something he hadn't felt in years. You desperately grasped onto his arm, the rough, black material beneath your fingers felt so uncomfortably familiar - and now it was going to be something you could only remember. "Let me go, please." The crack in Severus's voice made you release your grip.

This was it. He was really ending things between you two, for real.

"No," You sobbed. The pain from your shoulder injury felt like a pinprick compared to what you were feeling now. "Sev, please." Your cries broke his heart, and all he wanted to do was cradle you in his arms, and tell you everything was going to be okay - but he couldn't do that. Not now. Not ever.

You watched as his head raised upwards, his back still towards you. "Leave me, now, Y/N." Severus muttered and a trace of venom lingered in his words.

Without another word you left, making a straight beeline for Remus Lupin, wherever he was.

angst is my middle name, guys, i can't get enough of it. HA

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[danytar]

“Meet me at the highest heaven” [ King!Aegon!Targaryen X Sister!Wife!Reader ]

Warnings: anxiety, aegon is going to Rook's Rest,Incest, mention of war and death, No use of y/n, swearing,(m receiving),erotic lactation.

Summary: Aegon is going to the battle. And now you feel like your heart will be torn apart at any moment. Will you be able to say goodbye to him?

'The true king is the king who leads his battles himself' The famous quote in the world. Which you've heard hundreds of times. But you did not think that your husband would apply the phrase himself. You are still in pain over the murder of your eldest son.

You still haven't forgotten what happened.. You still haven't forgotten how you lost two children in one night. It was like a nightmare.. you hoped you would wake up soon and find yourself in bed with your husband. as a prince and princess.

The weight of your titles weighs heavily on your shoulders. You hoped it was a joke or something but it never was.. Your husband has already entered the game of thrones and getting out of that game is not as easy as entering it.

You were in your room, combing your silver locks, lost in your thoughts then you heard your doors open and there was the new hand of the king. “My queen”. His voice was polite and firm.

“Yes sir criston? ”. You let the comb from your hand and turned to see him standing there close to the big door of your chambers. “His grace requested your presence in his own chambers”. he replied to you.

You nodded and got up from your chair to leave the room. The knight led the way for your husband's chambers. you can't help but feel worry about what will happen next.You don't know what's causing this feeling, but you ignore it for now at least.

The guard opened the door for you and stopped outside the room. You entered the room and your gaze fell directly on him he was standing there in full armor. You swallow and take steps closer to him.

He looked at you and didn't speak yet. There was a silent moment between you two, just letting your eyes speak for you. He meets you with a warm smile on his lips you couldn't help but feel small tears wet your cheeks.

When he opens his mouth to speak, you don't let him but you rushe to him and embraces him hardly. The feel of steel on your skin doesn't bother you at all.He hugged you back he moved your hair away from your bare shoulders and placed his head there to inhale your scent.

One of his hands was gently stroking your hair and the other was tight around you. He broke the silence between you two with a little joke to lighten the mood “Is my queen trying to seduce me with this dress now?” He cocked his head and looked at you with a smile.

You wiped your eyes and chuckled softly “Shut up”. he chuckled with you then he wiped away the remnants of your tears and looked into your eyes.

“Don't cry my queen I won't leave you alone in this world I swear”. He lifted your chin with his thumb so you could look at him. He can see the coming tears from your eyes So he presses a kiss between your eyebrows.

“Do you really have to go?”. The words escaped your trembling lips. You cannot afford another loss and it's not any loss A piece of you. “I'm afraid I do, my love it's my duty to protect my kingdoms...to protect you”.

He tucked your silver locks behind your ears and looked at your eyes sweetly. He may be a king but your tears make him the weakest thing you could ever imagine. He hugged you to his chest again and his arms caress your shoulders and your bare back.

“I want to go with you”. You break the hug and look at him. He cups your cheeks and sighs “No, you will stay here I won't let my queen go the battle”.

“Aegon-” He interrupts you and places his thumb on your lips “No objections You're not going anywhere”. He looked at you in the eye and spoke softly. He was serious, he didn't want to put his wife in danger.

You pulled away from him and turned to give him your back. He sighed at your stubbornness and spoke in a sweet, low tone “Is this how you will say goodbye to me?”.

“This is not a farewell. You will return to me against your will ”. You gently wipe away your tears with the palm of your hand. he chuckled and talked to tease you “I can't promise I'll come back alive”.

You turn around again, with a frown on your face. he chuckles when he sees your face. “This is not funny aegon! ”

He wipes away the tears of laughter and approaches you again. You try to move away again but he grabs your wrist and pulls you to him.He presses his lips to yours forcefully His kisses were desperate and intense. He placed his hands on your cheeks and kissed you hard.

He bit your lower lip until you opened your mouth slightly so he could insert his tongue inside. you gladly opened your mouth slightly and your tongue joined his with an elaborate dance. When he pulled away from you, you were both panting heavily.

He rested his forehead on yours and closed his eyes. You closed your eyes and sighed then you spoke in a low tone “Come back safe”. you whispered in his hear. He smiled at you and replied, “I will.” He holds you tightly and whispers into you ear, “Be strong, love, I'll be home before you know it...”He kisses your shoulder softly.

“Come back to me one piece, please”. you whispered to him.

“I promise, I'll be back..” He caresses your cheek, “You must be brave and look after yourself and our son”. He whispers to you and hugs you again, but this time his lips travel to your exposed neck and kiss you there. Your body shivers under his touch.

He sighs softly as he feels her soft skin beneath his palms “So soft..” He continues to kiss your neck, as his hands working to undress you slowly.He whispers to you and nibbles your ear “If you think you're going to seduce me like this without me doing anything to you, you're wrong my love”.

“I wasn’t planning to seduce you.” You reply with a low tone.

“Excuses...excuses ”. He lets your dress fall so he can kiss your breasts and suck your nipples. Your breasts were still producing milk because you were pregnant from little while before your tragic miscarriage.

He was still in his armor and combat uniform, but you never complained about the feel of the rough steel on your bare skin. He rose from your chest, then got up and rubbed his thumbs over your breasts.

He looked at you in the eye and smiled “Lay on the bed for me my sweet queen”. You felt a tingle of emotions hit your stomach. You did as you were told he smiled at you and knelt at the edge of the bed, spreading your legs he placed a bunch of kisses on your thighs and his tongue started messing with you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair and held your husband's face in place. He was caressing your pearl and he will nor stop until you told him to stop Maybe this was his way of saying goodbye.

♡ – 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : @darylandbethfanforever9 @hisfavegiri @callsignwidow @xitsemm @saltytidalwavetyphoon @khaleesihel @credulouskhaleesi @lovelykhaleesiii

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon headcanons #aegon the second #aegon fanfic #hotd aegon #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd #house of the dragon #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen ii x you #aegon targaryen x you #aegon x you #aegon x y/n #aegon targaryen #aegon ii #hotd s2 #hotd2 #tom glynn carney #tom glynn carney x reader #danytar #aegon the elder #house targaryen #aegon imagine #hotd fandom #team green

[echos-gal]

ok i'm rapidly losing hope that Tech is still alive, and this sucks because it was basically the top thing i desperately wanted from this season. i wanted to see him survive. so here's my exhaustive and embarrassingly long list of reasons why he SHOULD still be alive, and if he isn't, why it was a missed opportunity. obviously no hate to the writers or anything, i love them dearly for creating this show!!!

(if you're a "Tech should stay dead for the stakes/so someone in SW stays dead for once/i hate delusional Tech stans" person, kindly keep scrolling, this ain't for you)

SEASON 2:

right from the start, Romar connects with Tech and calls himself "a survivor." HELLO???

in this same arc, Tech breaks his leg in a fall which he survives. he continues to walk on it, fighting off troopers to save Echo & Omega, showcasing his persistence and grit.

one of Phee's first lines is "better late than dead," and we know she shares a connection with Tech. she flirts with him later in this scene. it would be a shame not to reuse this line, i'm just saying....

Cid still owes Tech for racing for her in Faster. we see Cid looking miserable as she betrays the batch in Plan 99, so her playing a part in his rescue/comeback would be a nice way to show her growth. (i'm afraid there isn't enough time for this, though- as much as i thought a Cid redemption was on the horizon!)

Phee and Tech's departure is awkward, and although we have some context from season 3 (they talked more than we realized), the scene would do best if reconciled in person imo. it felt like it was setting up for something, and feels weird to leave hanging.

"don't go running off with any pirates or smugglers" could not have just been a throw away line. it set up for him to do exactly that. how fitting would it be if pirates or smugglers actually did manage to pick him up before the empire made it to the railcar crash site?

Hemlock's retrieval of the goggles shows that he sent a team to look through the wreckage. he thought there was a chance Tech survived, and may have him.

i won't go into the logistics, but big falls ARE survivable. in star wars especially. we have no idea what was below the layer of clouds/mist Tech fell through.

SEASON 3:

this is mostly CX-2 centric. their armor is very similar: the jaw/mouth shape, the hexagons over the ears, the rectangles on the chest, and the pouches/pockets.

"domicile." that is all.

CX-2 uses technology more than the other operatives we've seen, and he gets past the encryption on Phee's ship with ease.

"who are you?" was enunciated in the exact same way Tech says it to Trace and Rafa, which i definitely think was intentional.

CX-2 stops to use his rifle scope in the exact same spot where Tech and Phee stood to let down the ladders in the sea surge on Pabu.

he survives a waterfall plunge on Teth, which appears to have fooled Rex's group into thinking he'd died. the writers could have killed him off there and sent a new operative, but they chose to stick with CX-2 pursuing them to Pabu.

it's worth noting that while this CX is designated as "2," Tech's CT number is CT-9902. he is associated with the number even on a visual level: he's a dual-wielder, he wears goggles, he salutes with two fingers.

FROM A STORY PERSPECTIVE:

firstly, i am sorry and i LOVE the writers, but if you want people to accept a character's death, you've got to show his family and friends' grief. we saw no reaction from Crosshair or Phee, no tears from Hunter or Echo. it feels like fans were sadder about Tech's death than the characters in the story.

Tech seems to have been mentioned more in the second half of season 3 than the first half, which works if they want to bring him back in the finale.

the finale is called "The Cavalry Has Arrived." i really don't think you can have the cavalry (aka the bad batch) arrive without every member present. i also don't think it would feel right to play their theme without Tech there. idk, that feels incomplete!

we saw no body, and Hunter received Tech's goggles not from a trusted ally or friend, but from Hemlock. this calls into question the legitimacy of his claim that the goggles were "all he could salvage."

Tech alive and being held on Tantiss would provide a nice parallel to Echo in the first mission where we meet the batch, in TCW. and [ep 14 SPOILERS] we see that Echo is currently looking more like his TCW self, with his earpiece removed.

feels kinda sour that a character who a lot of people related to as neurodivergent representation would die just a few episodes after having a deep conversation with his sister about it.

likewise (and as a white woman i can't speak for WOC), from what i have seen, Black women are rarely the main love interest of a series! Phee is the ONLY love interest in this whole show, and it would suck to just cut off that romance before it could really become something. a lot of people wanted to see TechPhee become canon.

CX-2 is the one who destroys the marauder. it works well storywise for its pilot to have been the one to do that- the person who worked so hard modifying it, flying it, and teaching his sister to fly it. i'll be lowkey pissed if it turns out some random dude blew it up.

it's also CX-2 who invades and sets fire to Pabu. this is emotionally gripping on its own, but if he is Tech, it's even more so.

we have no idea what the operatives go through. Crosshair isn't telling, but it clearly put him in a really bad place. if Tech underwent this conditioning in his post-fall injured state, there's a chance he could come back from it. Emerie is probably the key to this, if they take the CX-2 route.

this show is all about a family trying to stay together as the Empire desperately tries to rip them apart. seeing the whole family together again - even if not everyone survives - in the finale is the satisfaction that the show ideally would go for. the last time they were all together was the season 1 finale. that was about 2 years ago in the show's timeline.

leaving Crosshair and Tech's final interactions be where they parted on the Kamino platform also feels off. Tech was the one who really vocalized the need to rescue Crosshair in season 2's finale. Crosshair, in the meantime, has changed significantly as a person. Tech's comment about Crosshair being "severe and unyielding," and unable to change this facet of his nature, is incorrect. leaving Tech dead would mean that he never gets to see this change in Crosshair, which makes me feel like a deflated balloon.

FROM MY SELFISH PERSPECTIVE!!!

give me Tech with cool scars and slightly disheveled longer hair. this is such a good opportunity for the creators to give him a sweet new look!

we never got to see Tech without his goggles on, despite Phee constantly referring to his eyes. he definitely doesn't have them right now (they're in the Archium), so we could get Mister Big Brown Eyes if he's alive. it's another missed opportunity if not, imo!

the goggles being placed in the Archium was a beautiful scene that makes me tear up whenever i think about it. it's symbolic, it's bittersweet, and it's exactly where the goggles belong. but was it closure for me? not really.

Tech is a character who became a LOT of people's favorite in season 2, including my own. why kill off a fan-favorite with an entire season to go?

yes, i desperately want a Rex and Echo series. yes, i want the batch to cameo in it, and yes... that includes Tech. making up for lost season 3 Tech content 😎

the finale will feature the zillo beast, and Tech loves the zillo beast. FREE HER! REUNITE THEM! he would love to witness her rampage.

FROM A "SURPRISE!!!!!" PERSPECTIVE

it seems like most people think Tech is either CX-2 or dead. it would be a great finale twist if we DID get CX-2's identity, it's NOT Tech, the audience loses hope, and then he shows up. i think this is actually plausible given the other assassin schematics Hemlock was looking at in Point of No Return. Tech might be in Hemlock's grasp, but not an active operative. having an enhanced clone to toy with is something Hemlock would want to keep under wraps. we see him step out of the assassin chamber at the start of that episode - if Tech is anywhere on Tantiss, i think it's here.

i think the writers have expected us to have all lost hope by now, so his finale reappearance would ideally come as a shock. the finale is almost guaranteed to be a very long episode, so we really might have quite a bit of time to explore his return, if it happens.

secret 16th episode: i know, i'm putting my clown makeup on as i type this. but the previous 2 seasons each had 16 episodes, with a two-parter finale. season 3 is just 15, with a single episode finale. TBB formally ends may 1st, so what if we get a may 4th surprise episode detailing how Tech survived? (that or an epilogue leading into a new series, which i think is more likely actually!)

#i definitely forgot some points but i just need to post this and be done with it #feel free to add your own observations 👀 #tbb tech #the bad batch #tech lives #techphee #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers

[diazsdimples]

I think- I think you might be my person.

Buddie or BuckTommy if it sparks joy 💞🦛

Oh, we're going for the feels today huh? Have some Buddie feels, just for you my love 🥰🫶

"I think - I think you might be person."

The words hang heavy between them, thick with unspoken meaning. There's yearning behind them, years of bitten back "I love you" and "don't leave me" and "please stay, I need you." But finally, Buck will speak them, no longer afraid of the consequences. He's ready. They're ready.

Eddie looks a little stunned, his mouth hanging open slightly as he looks at Buck, takes in the open vulnerability of his expression. They're so close, just a couple more steps and they'll be there. Buck waits with bated breath, praying Eddie will take the cue and take Buck's tender, open heart delicately in his hands.

"I- we're best friends, Buck, I should hope I'm your person."

He's deflecting, Buck can tell. Eddie's had years of repression and Catholicism that've taught him to box away all his feelings and not allow himself to be authentically him.

But not anymore. They're allowed to be happy. They're allowed to have this, to have each other. Buck just needs to take that step that Eddie can't do himself, because Eddie will never let himself have something if he doesn't think Buck will want it too.

"No, Eddie. That's not what I mean, I'm not-" he sighs, mentally weighing up his options. He could back out now, pretend he was just talking about their friendship. But then they'd be back in that revolving door of bad decisions and unspoken words and Buck can't do that anymore. He won't.

"Fuck it. Eddie, you're my person because you're the most important thing in my life. You and Christopher. You're my best friend, yeah, but it's more than that, right? Every day I wake up and you're the first thing I think about. When we're not together, I feel empty, but when you're by my side it's like I'm whole, like a piece of me has been returned to my body. You're my person because there is no one else in this world I would rather spend every day with than you. I trust you with my life."

Eddie's eyes are soft and they shine with unshed tears. He's biting his lip and Buck wants nothing more than to run his thumb over it and release it from his teeth, and tenderly capture his lips with Buck's own. But he needs to finish what he's saying. Eddie has to hear it.

"Eddie I can't imagine a life without you. The sun rises and sets on you, the world revolves around you and I-" his voice breaks and he ducks his head. He can't go on, he can't say it, he's not strong enough, he's not-

Eddie's fingers curl under his chin and slowly, gently, he raises Buck's head so their eyes meet. God he's so beautiful. He's truly the most beautiful person Buck has ever seen.

"Go on," he whispers, his voice cracked and raw with emotion. "Please."

Buck sucks in a breath. It's now or never.

"I love you."

It's like the air has been knocked out of Eddie and his breath hisses from him. Buck can't breathe. The oxygen has been sucked from the room, and he can't breathe, not until Eddie speaks. Until he confirms that Buck hasn't fucked this up and read all the signals wrong.

"Please say something," he begs.

Eddie takes a step closer, his fingers never leaving Buck's chin. The gap between them closes until they're chest to chest, nose to nose, close than they've ever been before. Eddie's lips ghost against his, a tentative brush, as though he's testing the waters. Buck tilts his head ever so slightly and, emboldened, Eddie kisses Buck properly this time, their lips moving in sync with one another and oh, this is what's been missing from Buck's life.

It's like the world has a new meaning now because hold fuck, Eddie is kissing him. His best friend, the love of his life, the man he'd almost convinced himself he would never be allowed to have, is kissing him back as though he feels the same. There's such tenderness and emotion with the way Eddie kisses him, as though they were born for this. As though they were made for one another. Two halves of a whole, destined to be with one another regardless of circumstance.

Eddie pulls away from him and rests his forehead against Buck's, his lips pressed tightly together. He's breathing heavily and fast, as though he's moments away from a panic attack.

Buck gently touches Eddie's arm, just above the elbow. Eddie doesn't pull away, staying completely still.

"Eds?" Buck says, voice quiet and full of choked up emotion.

Eddie licks his lips and takes a deep breath, as though steeling himself, and Buck feels sick. He's going to say he doesn't feel it, that Buck is alone in this journey, that they're just friends and Buck has misread the signs. Eddie can't, he won't, won't ever-

"I love you too."

Send me a ship and a sentence and I'll finish it!!

#james answers things #james writes #this one also got away from me #and it's entirely your fault for giving me THAT sentence #I hope this was what you wanted 🫶🫶 #buddie #buddie ficlet #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 buddie #911 abc #911 #eddie x buck #buddie 911 #buddie fic #buddie wip

[triassictriserratops]

I think if peeta even got a sniffle Katniss would go fucking feral, drop everything and take care of him (and get sick herself)

ABSOLUTELY SHE WOULD. She'd call her mom like, "he's dying, what do I do?" Peeta's in the background like, "Hi Mrs. Everdeen, I just have seasonal allergies, I took some Zyrtec, everything is fine! "YOU'RE DYING, SHUT UP AND GO TO BED BEFORE I KILL YOU." BUT NOW Now, Anon? Now i get to talk about what I think happens when KATNISS gets sick. And spoiler alert, it's GREAT. The first time Katniss gets sick after the war, she doesn't tell anyone. She just locks herself in her house, puts a note on the door saying that she's fine and to come back tomorrow hoping that Sae sees it and doesn't bother with cooking anything for her. She grabs some remedies, a box of plain crackers, a blanket, some water, and trudges her way upstairs back to bed. A few hours later she hears a loud crash in the kitchen. She waddles and sniffles her way downstairs to the sight of a cursing Peeta, sprawled on the kitchen floor, while his prosthetic is dangling from the open window above the sink. "What are you doing?" she says in a congested voice, "I left a note on the door." She moves over to the window to unlatch his prosthesis from where it got snagged on the windowsill. "This," he says, brandishing the crumpled paper in the air, "is NOT enough of an explanation. People were worried. Haymitch was worried..." He glances away at that. "Haymitch? Bullshit." she snorts as she bends down to reattach his leg. She stays down when she's done realizing that she's feeling a little unsteady on her feet. "Fine. FINE! I was worried. What's going on? Did I do something wrong?" "No! Of course not. It-it's fine. I'm fine. I'm just sick. Thanks for stopping by. I'll see you tomorr-." She's struggling to get back up when she feels the air whoosh around her and realizes that Peeta has picked her up to carry her over to the couch. "Sick? What's wrong? Have you taken anything? Let me make you some tea, or do you want soup? I can make soup." he's rambling as he presses the back of his hand to her clammy forehead. "I really am okay. I got this. I'll be fine, Peeta." she says, pushing his hand away from her face and regretting it immediately at the loss of contact. "Katniss. Please let me do this, okay? This is what you and I do, right? That's what you said. Now, tell me where you keep your bouillon. I'm making some chicken stock and a good soup for you." That's when it hits Katniss. She hasn't really been taken care of like this in years. Maybe since she was 11. For years now, her mother would do her best to take care of her during the occassional cold, of course. But for the most part Katniss struggled to accept any softness or warmth from her mother. Feeling caught between that desire to be held and comforted and the anger she still felt towards her - they instead both settled for the distant, clinical detachment her mother had with her other patients. But, really, the last nearly 7 years of her life have been dedicated to the care of her family and her loved ones. She learned to stop asking for things and began instead to meet all of her own needs, without relying on others. After the games she'd begun the process of extending that branch and allowing herself to lean on her mother a little more. But now? Now her mother isn't here. And here she was right back to what she knew. Taking care of herself. Looking up at Peeta, blue eyes shining in earnest. Ready to do and be anything that is needed of him. Anything that SHE needs of him. She wipes her nose on her sleeve and smiles. "Pantry. Top shelf. On the right. Thank you, Peeta."

#katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #everlark #hunger games headcanon #thg headcanons #thg #thg series #the hunger games #thg fic #thg fanfiction #love is a verb #hunger games sick day

[taintandviolent]

Like Right Now? ; Peter Maximoff x Reader

summary: Part 2 of this fic! Peter waited as long as he could - which wasn't very long. He wants round 2 and you do too. Like.... right now.

word count: 3.3K words!

w a r n i n g s: shameless smut, smut with a little plot, unprotected sex, couch sex, sex while parent is in the same vicinity dry humping, kissing, neck kissing.

a/n: not beta-read. by popular request... aaaah I'm still as nervous as I was posting the first part of this! anyway, I hope it's good and satisfies the peter craving! as always, sorry for any clunky weirdo writing!!!

full fic & taglist under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! /

With a contented sigh, you opened the door to the house you shared with your mother. Even though you were technically an adult now, you had decided to stay with her, helping her around the house. A child of divorce, you’d always been a little overprotective of her, and couldn’t imagine her alone. 

“Did you have a good skate, honey?” Your mother asked, watching from the living room as you hung your skates on the hook by the door. With your thumb, you furiously rubbed off a scuff mark off the shiny surface and nodded. Boy, did you. Best skate you’d ever had. Using your heels to slip your sneakers off, and kicking them towards the rest of the shoes, you laughed. “Yeah, I went real fast tonight and–” 

The phone interrupted your next words, ringing shrilly. You practically stumbled towards it, reaching out for it like a parched man reaches for water. Your insides wound themselves in knots, just knowing that it was Peter on the other end. 

“H-hello?” 

“Hey cutie.” He’d waited. As long as he could without losin’ his ever loving mind. Which, he wondered if he already had, considering how bad he was aching to hear your voice again. Maybe he’d already lost it. 

“Hi,” you hummed, turning away from your mother. You brought your tone lower, hushed. 

“Did you just get home?” 

“Yeah, Peter, I did.” 

“Dang, slow poke. I’ve been home for a while.” 

“Okay, well,” you laughed. “That’s not fair.”

“When do we get to uh… hang out again? Huh? I’m already jonesin’ to see you again. With or without skates.” Peter adjusted the phone against his ear, waiting. 

You peeked around the corner. Your mother was busy with her program, no longer paying attention to your conversation, likely assuming that it was just one of your girlfriends. How wrong she was… 

“Hang out? Is that what we did?” 

“Yea’, er… somethin’ like that.” 

“Whenever you want.” 

“Aw, man, don’t say that…” 

“Why not?” You ducked around the corner and plopped down on the third step of the staircase, winding the cord around your fingers. You knew why. You heard the way that Peter’s breath hitched in his throat, even through the phone. 

“Like… now?” 

“...Right now?” You asked back, almost in a teasing tone. “Like right now?”

“Yeah!” His tone was bright and excited, and it sounded like he was already out of breath.

“My house?” The suggestion was brave, but you knew your mom would be going to sleep within the half-hour. If you stayed quiet, she wouldn’t hear you over her bedroom TV. 

“Yeah! I mean…” He cleared his throat, trying to act casual. Way more casualness was needed - he was acting super lame and way too into you. Maybe you liked that. Maybe you didn’t. He couldn’t risk it. “Sure. If you want.” 

You began whispering your address, your eyes flitting to the living room. Your mother rose from the chair and went to the kitchen, none the wiser. You continued, knowing Peter had already committed it to memory. Your mother leaned down to cup your face as she went up the stairs and mouthed goodnight, and you covered the receiver with your hand.

“Night, mom. Love you.” 

“Be there in a flash.” You heard him say. 

You wanted to tell him to wait, but the line was already dead. As you moved, your hands shook and fumbled the receiver, dropping it once before getting it back on its cradle. Your mother had hardly gotten up the steps, and he’d be there any second, if he wasn’t already. You heard the door click shut and heaved a sigh of relief. 

“Mom?” You said, testingly. She didn’t respond, so you launched your body up the carpeted stairs, running up them like a four-legged animal. Her door was shut, nothing but the dull glow of her bedside table seeping through the crack at the bottom of the door. You raced back down the stairs, your socks padding quietly down them, despite the speed.

Your bedroom was down the hall, past the kitchen. You’d never been gladder to be on the bottom floor. You crept into your room, edging the door shut until the latch clicked into place and as it did, paused to laugh at yourself; you were doing everything so sneakily, as though you were a child acting out. You were a grown woman, albeit still in your mom’s house, but the point remained. Pushing aside the curtains, you carefully maneuvered the window up. It was a warm summer evening, there was no reason why you wouldn't open your window - perfectly normal, if your mother heard it. You stuck your head out. No Peter. Surely, he’d have been here by now. You breathed, looking at the base of the tree outside your window. A squirrel skittered up into the branches. Just as you were about to pull your head back inside, Peter’s head comically poked out from the corner of the house. He had clearly been standing by the front door, which horrified you.

“Took so long, I was about to knock – .”

You shushed him, and whispered harshly for him to get inside. He stuck one leg in, climbing in carefully – the last thing he needed was to be a total klutz and eat it on your bedroom floor.

“You’re crazy, you know that? The front door!?” 

“Cool your jets, babe. You didn’t tell me which window was yours. Where’s your mom?” 

“Upstairs, hopefully sleeping.” 

“Good,” he murmured into your lips, suddenly in front of you. He’d caught you off guard with his speed, but like everything he’d done from the moment he’d complimented your skates, he was so frustratingly cute. The kiss was warm and soft, you were in no position to resist it. He kissed you back towards the bed, his hands cupping your breasts, thumb tweaking your nipples over your shirt. Which reminded you… you were still in your skating clothes. There was far too much fabric in between his thumb and your nipple. 

“Lemme’,” you murmured sloppily into his lips, before finally pulling back. “Lemme’ change first, okay? It’ll look less suspicious. Who needs to cool their jets, huh?” 

“Sorry, sorry.” Hands up, Peter took a step back, watching you as you sauntered off towards your small closet. Your hips swayed back and forth to a song that wasn’t playing. Probably something you’d heard at the skating rink. You could admit it, you were putting on a bit of a show in hopes of arousing him. 

Still though, you hurried, sliding the doors open and pulling your shirt over your head. You reached around and undid your bra, glancing back at him cheekily. Woah, jackpot… he thought, hoping, that at that point, he wasn’t drooling like a cartoon dog. He was watching you intently, a crooked grin plastered on his face. Neck turned, you held his gaze, daring him to look as you slid your shorts and panties down over the curve of your ass. He looked, but it was so fast of a peek that it was impossible for you to notice. Now finished with your impromptu strip tease, you pulled a sleeping shirt from the shelf and threw it on, spinning on your heels to face him. 

Clad in nothing but the oversized t-shirt, you marched back to Peter, who had taken a seat on the edge of your bed. You climbed behind him, sliding your hands up the round muscle of his shoulders. On your knees, you were just taller than him and decided to take advantage of that by kissing his neck, slowly. You nipped here and there, suckling in other places while your hands explored the front of his shirt, ghosting over the faded print. 

Peter started sweating, and the stiffness between his legs got worse. Much worse. There was no hiding it, or ignoring it and he could’ve sworn that he heard you giggle behind him. His expression was a melange of pain and pleasure, and as your hands neared his crotch, he couldn’t really tolerate much more of your tender kissing… 

“Babe,” In a blur of motion, your back was pressed against your mattress, and he was back to tweaking your nipples again, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. The action made you squirm. “Your foreplay is bitchin’, but you’re driving me crazy. Loco. I feel like I’m gonna’ bust.”

“Okay, so now what?” 

“Now what?” He repeated, almost mockingly. “It’s my turn.”  

His hand trailed down from your breasts over the curve of your stomach to the soft mound between your legs. You felt a buzzing directly on the sensitive bundle of nerves and looked down, equal parts confused and aroused. It was his hand, and not a vibrator, but instead of seeing his fingers move back and forth, you saw a flesh-coloured blur. Everything you’d learned about fingering… in the span of a few hours, he’d completely shattered. So, he could finger-fuck you at super-speed, and he could literally vibrate your clit. Of course he could. 

“Oh my god,” you moaned, an intoxicating lilt to your words. Peter groaned, and ground his hips against the side of your thigh. His finger dipped down, collecting some of your warm, slithery wetness and pulling it back up, smearing it around your folds.

You clapped your hand over your mouth, legs quivering. The pad of his middle finger continued tapping your clit and you felt the very rapid climb of your orgasm. Without warning from him, Peter’s hand drifted away from your pussy, his slick fingers gripping your thigh. “Babe, I’m thirsty.” 

“Wh-what?” Breathless and sweaty, you quirked a brow at him.

“You got a soda or something?” 

“Uh, yeah, in the kitchen. Y-you’re really thirsty right now?” 

Before you could protest, you stood in the kitchen. He had opened the fridge, popped the tab on a can of Coke, guzzled it, and tossed it into the bin. You blinked. “What… Peter…!” You sniggered, covering your mouth to muffle the sound of your own voice. Your mother’s bedroom was right above the living room, and the last thing you wanted was her to wake. 

He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t wait any longer. He’d gotten you downstairs, and now it was time to up the ante. Wrapping his arms around you, Peter zipped to the couch, and could’ve fucked your wet little cunt right there on the sofa. In the span of a few seconds, Peter could’ve drilled his aching cock inside of you, just long enough for you to feel it, just long enough for him to bust inside you and just long enough to make you quiver. Instead, he hovered over you, looking deep into your eyes, chest heaving. 

“What’re you so nervous for, babe? You know that the second I hear footsteps, we’d be back in your room.” 

“Peter, we can’t… my mom is right above us, dude!” 

“You’re no fun, c’mon.” He craned his neck down, pressing a few teasing kisses along your exposed collarbone. “C’mon, babe.”

You whimpered, rolling your lips inward and your eyes upward. For being such a top tier goof ball, he was unnervingly good at making you feel like your entire body was on fire. That electric current that you felt at the roller rink was back, buzzing through you at a high voltage.

“Peter…” you begged, hoping he’d change his mind because the reality was that he’d get his way if he didn’t. You were too turned on and too into him to say no. 

“C’moooon.” Another kiss. Internally, he was ripping stuffing. His confidence was outrageous, where did he get the balls? He wished you were holdin’ his – no. Stop right there. You ran your tongue along your teeth, and Peter watched the wet muscle as it swept across the enamel, glistening. 

“You promise?”  you asked. 

He nodded, too eagerly, his silver hair flopping with the motion. “Scout’s honour, or whatever. She won’t know a thing.” 

With a little huff, you spread your legs, allowing him in. Peter wasted no time in letting that wet, aching monster free, immediately pulling his gray boxers down over his balls. You pressed your hips into the couch cushions, backing away from the heat that met your groin and Peter followed them, pressing his hips right back into you. He groaned breathily, rutting his hips. You were soft and warm underneath him, and felt so soo good. The shaft of his cock met your wet folds, and he immediately found a rhythm, humping you in long, steady thrusts that had you curling your toes. Every time the velvet plush head of his cock bumped into your swollen clit, you whimpered. Ecstasy deluded your senses, eyes rolling back in your head.  

“Peter, oh my god…!” His hand clamped over your mouth, his dark eyes widening in a warning. 

“Shhhhhhh –” 

You nodded underneath his grip, remembering the threat of the situation. Peter kept his hand on your mouth, pressing tightly against your soft lips. He reached down, taking hold of his cock and pumped it in and out of his own fist a few times before lining up with your entrance.

“Ready?” 

With lusty, half-lidded eyes, you nodded. 

Peter pushed his leaking tip inside of you, then with a shaky breath, sunk the rest of the way in. The sensation of your walls stretching to accommodate his thick cock was indescribable; hot, tight pleasure coursed through your body in waves as Peter found his rhythm. Fast. Fast rhythm. He fucked like a teenage boy, and you liked that – his bunny humps were deep and intentional, like the crimson head was trying to find the deepest point inside of you. Peter pressed his lightning-bolt patterned socks against the armrest of the couch, using it as leverage to push himself inside of you.

His cock made slick by your arousal, his hips moved against yours rapidly, hammering your cunt in a way that you physically thought impossible. In the darkness, you saw Peter smirk crookedly, pleased with the visual below him. Your tits bouncing underneath the shirt with each thrust, your eyes wide and lust-blown. His gaze dropped to them, watching, entranced. With your free hand, you reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it up to your collarbone and letting your breasts fall free. 

“Oh fuck,” he whispered. 

Skates fast. Fucks fast. Cums fast. You thought, watching as his face contorted, his eyebrows knitting together, jaw dropping. His breaths came out in hurried little huffs as he pumped inside of you, filling your cunt with sticky, white heat. 

“Honey?” 

He froze. You froze. Stiffly, you turned your head towards the staircase, looking up into the darkness, petrified. 

“YEAH! YEah, mom, just… getting a drink!” You tried to keep your voice level, but there was something so inherently naughty about having a guy on top of you, his dick inside of you while you spoke to your mother. Your stomach was tight, muscles burning with the contraction. 

“Oh, okay! I thought I heard - I don’t know. I love you!”

“I love you too! Goodnight!”

Once the door clicked shut, and your head snapped back in Peter’s direction, who was still panting on top of you. Slapping his pectoral muscle hard, you mouthed go go go go! Naturally, before you’d finished the last ‘go’, Peter had pulled out and you were back in the safety of your bedroom before a drop of cum had time to leak from your swollen cunt. Back on your bed, your hair splayed out on the satin pillowcases. Peter was at your side, drawing circles on the exposed flesh of your stomach. 

“Did you uh -”

“No… I didn’t have a chance.” 

“Oh, uh… sorry about that. That happens a lot, y’know? Part of the whole speedster thing, I can’t always –” 

“Peter… shhh… it’s cute. It means you like me.” 

He pointed a finger at you, pushing his bottom lip into his top. “That… that is true. Hey. I have an idea.”

In the darkness, only illuminated by the moonlight that filtered in through the window, you saw Peter sink down to his stomach, resting between your legs. He moved both legs atop his shoulders, pulling you forward.

You felt a hot breath against your thighs, and whimpered. When a warm tongue licked between your wet folds, you moaned out, grinding your head back into the pillow. Peter slipped a single digit into your cunt gently, twirling his tongue around your clit as he did. He pumped it in and out a few times, feeling the way your cunt squeezed around him. Your wetness coated his finger, dripping down the length into his palm. 

You felt your cunt clenching, uncontrollably. Peter did too and withdrew his finger. His tongue flicked at your clit rapidly, the wet, slick sounds filling the quietness of the bedroom. His dark eyes flitted up to yours, watching every minute expression that flashed across your face. 

“S-slow down…” you whispered, not loud enough for him to hear. It was more of a desperate breath in the shape of the words. He didn’t hear you, and even if he had, he was far too busy burying his nose in your cunt, tasting your sweet fluids. His tongue lapped at your entrance and curled back towards his throat, swallowing. He groaned into her, the sound resonating through your core. 

“Peter… Peter!” You whispered harshly, gripping his head on either side. He didn’t budge, and his eyes drifted shut in ecstasy. Moving up to take a fistful of silver hair, you yanked him off your cunt, his reddened lips glistening and open, confused. His inky orbs looked up at you, dazed and desperate. 

“Whaaat?” he asked, a hint of annoyance tainting his usually upbeat voice. 

“Slow… down….” 

“Sorry but that’s not really… my…” He paused, looking at your weeping cunt again. “...thing. She doesn’t really look like she wants me to, either.” He reached forward, sweeping a single digit along the length of your pussy. You jerked, sensitive.   

“I can’t stand it, I’m gonna’ cum too quickly.” 

“Quick is in the name, babe.” He shrugged his shoulders, as if telling you that you were shit out of luck.

He dove back in, and picked up licking her again, from bottom to top. He was slightly slower than before – maybe he’d decided to have mercy on you. Or maybe he was just savouring the feeling of your cunt as it practically fluttered on his tongue, your clit throbbing with the sensitivity. You rocked your hips against his mouth, humping his pretty face with reckless abandon. It was the only control you had, because as soon as you started that, his tongue had returned to the speedy flipping of your clit.

You were going to cum – so fast that you hardly had time to process it. 

“Ffffuck… oh god,” you whimpered. Your cunt pulsed over and over again, and Peter was right there to feel it. He speared two fingers into her. Curled them upwards, feeling the clench of your orgasm as it came. He fucked you with his fingers until the throbbing stopped, and the first hint of overstimulation came – you whined, too loudly. 

Peter grinned, his slick fingers slipping from your pussy. With a mischievous little glimmer in his eyes, he observed them, watching as the thick, clear strands strung apart between his digits. 

You wanted to ask him on a date. He wanted to ask you on one. But neither of you said a thing. Neither of you said a thing, and just watched each other breathing, chests heaving, heavy with lust. Lookin’ cuter than she ever has… Peter thought, watching you in your post-coital state; sweaty and blushing. 

You knew you were going to be obsessed with him – were already obsessed with him. The high that you chased with skating was nothing compared to what you felt being around this silver dork, and all his little quirks.  

“So uh… same bat-time, same bat channel?” 

You chuckled. “Yeah, Peter. Yeah.” 

#Peter Maximoff #Peter Maximoff x reader #Peter Maximoff x you #Quicksilver x you #Quicksilver x reader #myfics #X-Men Movies

[harrietlancaster]

Napping time 👶💤

Little Amanda often had trouble falling asleep...even after being fed, having a new diaper and being sung to all afternoon by Harriet. When she walked into the bedroom, to wake her sleeping husband, trying to ask for help, Amanda's chubby little arms reached out and her fussy little sounds turned into something coherent for the first time.

"Dada!"

Harriet's eyes went wide. Her first words!

And Harriet understood them so clearly. Amanda missed her dad! Of course! She just wanted to be close to him, snuggle up to him and feel his comforting warmth. Harriet lips curled into a smile as she gently kissed the girl's head, before letting her down on the mattress.

Straight away, Amy crawled to Sebastian and curled right on top of his back, her little fist holding tightly onto his shirt. It barely took a minute before her eyes were closed, her breathing slowed and her fussy sounds were turned into the smallest little hums.

Harriet couldn't help but watch this peaceful picture in front of her. She took in the little snores from her husband, the steady and synced breathing of them both and the soft shake of her daughter's curls. They have grown much darker since her birth and with every day passing by, she looked more and more like her father. She was just as curious and smart like Sebastian.

But the way she missed her dad, whenever he left the house or even just the room and immediately wanted to shower him with kisses the moment he was back...that was just like her mother.

They both loved Sebastian endlessly and they always would.

After giving both a soft kiss to their temple, Harriet left the room, chuckling to herself at the thought of telling Sebastian Amy's first words.

Okay, okay...I told myself I would post Harriet's and Sebastian's story more "chronologically" except for my lake drawing, buuuut...I wanted to draw dad!Seb so desperately, I had to do this first!

This is a heavily referenced artwork, because I'm definitely not an artist that can draw a body free hand 🤣 And also this is more in a modern style, because again...I'm not a highly experienced artist, so I stayed very close to the source material 🙈

I hope you still like it and can gush over dad!Seb with me! 💕

divider by @saradika

#my art #sebastian sallow #sebastian #sebastian sallow hl #sebastian sallow hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow x oc #sebastian x oc #harriet lancaster #harriet arabella sallow #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #Amanda Mary Sallow #Amy Sallow #drabble #hogwarts legacy drawing #hl drawing #drawing #hogwarts legacy drabble #hl drabble

[bberry005]

yeah yeah i know i usually post silly little anecdotes about the bad batch but how about some real analysis?

people have said it before but truly the only way for this show to have a message and meaning in the end is for it to have a happy (if not that then bittersweet) ending.

the whole point of the show is family, specifically clone force 99/the bad batch as a family. the show literally starts with them accepting omega into their family. throughout the show, this theme of family is repeated. them helping hera syndulla rescue her parents. them helping rex rescue their fellow clones because they're all brothers. phee introducing them to her family on pabu.

star wars has always had a message of love and family, but more often than not, that ends in tragedy. we're all hoping the bad batch will give us that ending where they're all reunited. they'll rescue omega/all escape tantiss in some way, tech will be revealed as cx-2 (i'm a supporter of this theory and for this post i'm going to assume he is cx-2), and they're able to all go and be TOGETHER as a family. what they do after that doesn't matter. they just need to be together.

i can see any of them sacrificing themselves in the finale, but the whole point should be that they're not ALLOWED to. not when they're this close. not when they're a family again. not when crosshair is back. not when they learn tech is alive. not when omega is safe. whoever (likely hunter or echo) tries to sacrifice themselves needs to be held back. because family is the point. because they're not letting ANYONE else pull a plan 99.

the bad batch show might be ending, but it shouldn't be the end of them as a squad. they HAVE to live. because family is the point, because they protect each other, because they're allowed that quiet life of not being soldiers and that time to heal and to join the rebellion if they want to. but if hunter, wrecker, crosshair, and echo die, and tech is either not cx-2 or they can't save him, and omega stays in tantiss forever, it destroys their whole theme that they've spent the whole show developing.

tragic endings and stories are star wars specialty (the prequels, the clone wars, rogue one, andor, hell even rebels and solo to an extent). the bad batch has potential to show us that there is that other central theme of star wars: hope. there's hope for our main characters and that they'll be the ones who show us that not every hero who fights for the rebellion/the republic just faces tragedy. there's hope that omega can grow up in peace. there's hope that hunter can have his quiet life away from being a soldier. there's hope that echo can keep fighting for what he believes in, that crosshair can heal, that tech will live, that wrecker will see all his brothers again.

basically, star wars give us a happy ending to this story of family and hope. we deserve it, the characters deserve it, and the story deserves it.

#star wars #the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #star wars tbb #hunter tbb #omega tbb #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb echo #tbb tech #the bad batch final season #the bad batch season 3

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Three

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: Another update this week?? I'm as shocked as anyone else, but hopefully this one will make up a little for the last! It's longer and a little less, um, idk, I can't say emotional?? because that would be a lie:/ Still, there are some developments! Also, it'll make sense a lot later but the 2nd image and the use of a Ride song are used in this one!

Hope you enjoy! Also thank you for all the love on this current series, it means a whole lot and keeps me writing xx

Warnings: similar to that of the last post! so pls look back there if you'd like to know!:)

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

“I said no.”

Stressed was a feeling beyond words at this point. The past couple of days all I’d had was press hounding at me, calling and texting, emailing at all hours of the fucking day. They wouldn’t let up, even after I’d stayed silent. Adi reckoned it was mostly down to Teddy’s involvement in the whole thing. I didn’t want to think much more about it, although I knew she wasn’t wrong.

“Give me a reason at least?"

I shot a scathing glare over my shoulder before turning back to the filing system I’d taken to reorganising. It was my first morning back at the studio since... yeah, well Finn had Teddy- another factor to my current load of stress- whilst Adi was off doing something or other. I hadn’t asked, fearful of putting more of a strain on her current friendship- relationship??- with Ross, so instead I’d just chosen to tidy and rearrange the entire setup we had going on here. Because that was perfectly normal. And not a fucking way to evade talking or thinking about the mess that was my life. Okay?

“I don’t need a fucking reason, I just don’t want to.” I retorted, hissing slightly when I suddenly cut my thumb on the edge of a document. I withdrew my hand quickly and raised it towards my mouth, letting my eyes slip close for a moment when I heard a footfall step closer.

“Let me see.” Jamie sighed, probably thinking I’d done something worse to my hand than just a papercut. To be fair, the cabinet was old. One of them filing types from the ninety’s that we’d gotten for a score down at some boot sale, so I wouldn't be surprised if one of us did eventually end up losing an arm.

I shook my head and pushed the cabinet drawer closed, “It’s fine, just a papercut.”

Jamie huffed an amused chuckle before settling down on the edge of the desk nearby. It was Adi’s, you could tell from the sheer amount of shit she had accumulating it.

“One thing after another with you.”

My head tilted towards him with a deadened expression, “Ha ha.”

The older man raised his hands up in a mocking surrender, showing he hadn’t meant any real harm. “Too soon?”

I kicked at the toe of the leather boots he wore in retort as I moved towards the kitchenette, aware that he was just trying to lighten my horrendous mood but not really in the right mind for it. 

“You want a brew?” I asked, not bothering to give him an honest reply to that question of his. Too soon? Yes, that was all too fucking true.

“Have a coffee if there’s one going.”

I dipped my head in a slight nod, filling the kettle and setting it to boil before snagging the coffee often reserved for guests on the show from a shelf nearby.

Jamie moved to better face me on Adi’s desk as I did so, wearing that same expression he’d turned up in, all concerned and weary. It bothered me a bit, seeing as though it was all I had garnered since the press had had their field day with my life, but I could also understand why. They all just seemed to feel for the idiot stupid enough to fall into another of Matty Healy’s traps.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” He wondered around a light chortle at my demand, hands falling to rest between his thighs.

I gestured towards his face whilst I poured a splash of milk into my mug, “Looking at me like that, like I’m gonna break or something.”

With a sigh, he pressed his lips together. “You know it’s not like that.” I rolled my eyes in return but he just bounded on, “You know it’s not, I just care is all.”

I forced out a breathless chuckle, “That why you’re here trying to get me to hear him out then?”

To be fair to him, Jamie had come right out with it when he’d first popped by, having messaged me asking after my whereabouts earlier this morning. I’d told him, having spoken to him quite a bit over the last couple days, and then found him on the doorstep. 

Jamie had been good with everything. He’d let me vent, rally against one of his friends and clients, question his own motives- and hadn’t even complained one bit. But now he was here asking me to give Matty a chance, a lot like he’d done that first time around in that small cafe all those months ago.

“I know you’re angry, you have every right to be.”

“Of course I’m fucking angry!” I immediately shot back at him, the rattle of the teaspoon ringing out as I dropped it into a mug, “I wouldn’t care if it had just been me he’d gone and fucked over! But he brought Teddy into this shit, Jamie. My son! So tell me, how am I supposed to hear him out after he’s done something like that and then lied about it? For weeks, mind you.”

Jamie looked back at me, wearing that ‘this meant business’ mug of his. I slumped at the sight, pressing my knee against one of the lower cabinets to continue stirring the drinks. I didn’t care, I didn’t care, I didn’t care.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Mouse.”

My eyes slipped closed at his words and I took a second to just breathe. Because I wasn’t angry, not really. I was hurt and humiliated, and just so fucking sad. Fed up with it all, if I was being honest. Enough so that I knew that Jamie was being truthful here- and not just because it was a fact that I hadn’t spoken to Matty since things had fallen apart, but also because I hadn’t had the heart to ask Teddy about things yet. Or if ever.

The kid was four. Four, and asking after a man every night before he fell asleep and then as soon as he opened his eyes the next morning.

He knew something was up, he was smart like that. But what was I meant to do- to say? When I was just as confused as he was.

I’d ended up leaving him with Finn today, having had no other choice in the situation because the nursery was closed for an inset day, or some shite like that, and it seemed I had no other friends than the few around me. 

Could quite literally count the lot of them on one hand. 

But still, Finn and I’s relationship had still been rather rocky after that whole incident with him and Matty, and hadn’t improved since. In fact, he’d been a little unbearable about everything, always one to toot his own horn whenever he was right about something. But it was always slyly and I couldn’t help but feel as though it was a constant dig, like even when he wasn’t commenting on it he was still thinking it whenever he looked at me.

Which felt so horrible to think, let alone say out loud. He was my best friend. So I’d kept my mouth shut and just dealt with it, like I did everything else in life.

“He’s messed up about it.” Jamie then spoke, his voice having startled me a tad, breaking me out of my musings. He was watching me again, only when he did it, it didn’t feel as condescending as everyone else's. Like he understood my position. And I guessed that he probably sort of did.

“I bet.” I scoffed quietly, an airy titter escaping through my nose, and then I turned to toss my teabag away.

“It’s true.” Jamie shrugged, then nodded in thanks when I pushed a coffee his way. “He’s been ‘round Ross’s ever since shit hit the fan, hasn’t left the flat. Driving the lot of us mad, but he’s torn up, Mouse.”

Tongue in cheek, I wrapped my hands around my cup and propped my hip up against the counter, staring into the still swirling liquid. “Serves him right, I guess.” I replied with a soft shrug of my own, though we both knew I didn’t quite mean it.

Jamie looked over towards one of the windows to the right, most of them were either way too long or too tiny for the space, an odd build, but this particular one gave way to the skyline lying over the remainder of the city. I often wondered what the lower levels might look out at, thinking it was probably the majority of the surrounding buildings, and couldn’t help but feel a little thankful that we’d managed to snag this unit.

When he glanced back over at me, I took a sip and let him speak.

“A lot went on, that much I know, and it’s your choice how you deal with it. But, I saw the two of you. I saw him change. Which is stupid to say, I know, but it doesn’t stop it from being true. He was different with you, he actually tried in other aspects of his life and not just with the band and the music. He looked genuinely happy.” He smiled softly at the eye roll I gave, but it didn’t appear to deter him. “Don’t get me wrong, I know you didn’t fucking cure him. Don’t work like that, does it? But you helped. You and Teddy both.”

I looked away then, back towards the window, unable to really help it, and instead allowed my eyes to trail over the clouds which powdered the dusty blue sky. 

“It was different. Things were different, and I know that there was love there. There couldn’t not have been. The way he looked at you…” Jamie shook his head ever so slightly as he breathed out, unaware of just how deeply his words had cut. But then he peered over at me and I found myself already looking back, air caught somewhere in the swell of my lungs. 

“Don’t.” I choked out, the grip on my mug having tightened tenfold. “Just,” I shook my head.

Jamie put his coffee down on the desk and moved to stand, hands raised to convey he wasn't a threat. “I’m not saying this to hurt you more, love. Just telling you how I saw it.”

I licked at my lower lip, casting my eyes downwards. Our silence stretched and all could be heard was the odd car horn and chirp from beyond the walls of the studio, until-

“Anyone here?”

I blinked back the tears which had started to well in my eyes and sniffed, head shooting up just in time to spot a familiar giant ducking their head under the beam of the doorway, limbs following right after.

George entered but then stopped short when he spotted his manager stood by me, and I laughed to myself at the way the pair of them seemed to eye one another, before stepping in, “Didn’t hear you ring the buzzer.”

Kind eyes darted over to find my soft smile then, welcoming him in, and so George finally moved in closer, laying the jacket he wore to rest over one of the armchairs.

“Yeah, someone was just leaving and let me in.” He answered my unasked question, shrugging as he added, “Dunno whether they recognised me or if they just let anyone up.”

“Probably the second,” Jamie piped up, seemingly having broken himself from his previous bout of surprise, “This lot ‘round here don’t give much of a shit about crap like that.”

I rolled my eyes, but was glad to have a reason to smile slightly. “Or they spotted the BFG making his way over and wanted to avoid pissing him off.”

Jamie cackled whilst George just shot me a narrow-eyed look, “Hilarious. That pot just boiled?” He asked me as he wandered over. I nodded in turn and moved to grab him a cup, only faltering when he lowered my hand with his own and shook his head. “I got it.”

I dipped my head slightly, blinking before taking a step back to let him work. He made a quick go of it, rummaging around the cupboards briefly to find what he needed and only asking for the spoon I still held for some odd reason when he was near done. 

Jamie appeared to have been watching him too, a calculating glaze to his eyes, and he chose that next moment to speak up, “How you been anyway, George? Not seen much of you lately.”

Something unspoken passed between them when George glanced over at him, but I couldn’t tell what.

“Good, busy.” Was what the taller decided on, throwing Jamie a quick smile when he crossed to toss his own teabag in the bin before settling on the counter to the left of me. “You?”

It almost sounded sarcastic, not how he said it but simply because he’d asked it at all, knowing everything that had recently occurred. It must have been a right nightmare for Jamie these last few days, what with him being the band’s main man.

Jamie just laughed though, goodnaturedly, though it was apparent that he was still trying to suss out what was going on, what with George’s sudden appearance. Seeing as I’d never once mentioned him to Jamie.

See, things with George had all started after that studio session Teddy had attended, followed by my wishing him a happy birthday just before Matty had gone and done what he did best. Wrecked it all.

Teddy had become all too smitten with the drummer since he’d first been introduced to the band and their many songs and music videos. He enjoyed the guitar he’d been gifted an awful lot, often playing with it and practising, but each time any sort of song played on the tele or the radio, or even in the car, it wasn’t hard to note the way Teddy instantly mimicked George’s swift movements, pretending to drum along to whatever beat heard. 

George had messaged me on Instagram later that same day, seeing as how apparently Teddy’s appearance at the studio had stuck with him, and asked after him a little. It seemed strange worded like that, but George reckoned that Teds had a real streak of a musicality about him, even as young as he was, and wanted to see if Teddy would be up for learning some more. 

Which had been a Godsend, honestly, what with how the next couple of days had gone down. I’d given him my number via dm just before the storm had started and then the afternoon that had followed the plethora of articles he’d called.

He’d asked how I was at first, almost consoling me in that easy way of his, so full of little words, which had been all too refreshing in truth.

I’d had texts and calls off of practically everyone I knew, even Ronan, the utter prick. And none had managed to soothe me quite like George’s had, seeing as the man had been there too. Not quite in my position, sure, but near enough. He’d even let a little of it slip when he’d popped on over that same day, bringing a bag of takeaway and a roll up drum mat as a gift for Teddy, who had been cooped up with me on the sofa for most of the afternoon. 

The two of them had bonded over it rather quickly, Teddy having been caught off guard by George’s sincerity almost as much as I had been. But then I'd found myself getting to know the drummer too and very much appreciating the unnecessary gesture he’d made for me, even with the pair of us not knowing one another as well as we could have.

I had no idea what was going on between him and Matty, I hadn’t had the balls to ask, but he’d mentioned he hadn’t heard much of anything from him since the night of his party, as well as the fact that his girlfriend, Charli, had been just as annoyed with everything that had gone down.

I knew he’d be stopping by at some point today, we’d made plans to get lunch once he’d heard I was back at the studio on my own, but not recording. I reckoned he was concerned and this was his way of showing it, but it was hard to tell with him most of the time seeing as he’d made it out as though I was doing him a favour here. An effort I came to find I much appreciated. 

“Work, you know how it is.” Jamie replied after a long pause. He was still standing in the same position he’d been in since George arrived, but seemed to move then, picking up what was left of his coffee and pouring what remained down the sink. “But I’d best be going, got a couple calls to make. You gonna be at the studio tomorrow?”

George hummed around his next sip, pulling away with only a dip of his chin. “Should be.”

Jamie smiled, nodding, “Good, I’ll let the rest of them know then.”

I caught George’s slight wince at that, though he didn’t protest his manager's comment. It made me wonder.

Jamie turned to me then, shucking on his jacket. I perked up, not having realised that he really was rushing to leave now. “Remember what I said, alright?”

I blinked, but then nodded. How could I forget? I wanted to ask, but instead said, “You don’t have to head out so quick.”

He sent me a reassuring grin as he flipped over the collar of his coat. “You won’t miss me much,” He then teased before roping me into a hug, “Weren’t lying when I said I had a couple calls though, so it’s best I get out of your hair whilst I still can.” 

I smiled softly at the sound of his lighthearted chuckle and nodded before following him over to the door, “Stay safe.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, all too used to my typical parting now, though amused by it all the same. “Can’t promise anything.” He retorted with a smirk, shuffling over the threshold whilst his eyes flickered back to where George still stood once more. “So, about before?”

I inhaled shakily, though Jamie didn’t seem to notice, fingering the pockets of his jacket in search of his mobile. “I’ll think about it.” I told him.

He flashed me a grin at that, pleased, then let his heel trail over to meet the top step of the metal grating. “Talk to you later then.”

I nodded and watched for a second as he descended the staircase, head bobbing down the first set before he turned and disappeared from view. Sliding back inside, I shut the door quietly behind me, taking a second to steel my nerves before facing the room again.

During that time, George had seemingly gone and made himself comfy on the settee, his mug settled on a coffee table coaster. I moved to join him after putting both mine and Jamie’s cups under the tap to rinse before just leaving them to soak.

George was fiddling with something when I sat down beside him but shuffled over a tad to allow me to get more comfortable, “So what was that about?” I questioned.

“With Jamie?” He asked and I nodded, even though I reckoned he already knew what I was on about. 

He shrugged slightly and I noted the way his finger trailed over a slip of folded paper, it was creased as though it had been played or fiddled with a dozen times too many. My brow seemed to furrow at the sight of it. 

“He tried phoning a few times but I’ve not been too keen on answering, learnt that I’ll just get dragged into the drama if I do.” George finally answered, and for some reason I felt a wad of guilt pool in my stomach upon hearing it, even though I hadn’t been the one to cause this mess.

Or maybe I was just kidding myself.

“Sorry.”

George huffed as he turned to peer over at me, elbows resting on the tops of his knees. “Nothing to be sorry for.” He told me and then gifted me a sweet smile, “None of this is on you. Just thought we were in the clear, you know?” He looked away at that and his smile dimmed into something smaller, almost sadder. “Figured I wouldn’t have to go dodging my mates calls anymore, or be roped into cleaning up everyone else’s messes.”

He reached a hand out to settle on my knee then, probably having noticed the way I was chewing on the insides of my cheek, or maybe the fact that my lip was now trembling. I’d never felt so shitty. So at fault for something I hadn’t really seen coming, nor could I prevent.

“Not your fault, remember?” He reiterated to me, squeezing my joint softly before pulling away. I sniffed before looking up at him with a tiny smile. 

“Promise I don’t usually cry this much. Just been a shitty week is all.” I told him, laughing pitifully as I toyed with the hem of the jumper I’d put on earlier that morning when I’d purposefully avoided the hoodie that had been left on my desk chair, as well as the cupboard full of clothes that didn’t belong to me.

I felt the settee dip slightly before I found him sitting right beside me, lifting an arm to wrap me up in a hug. His cheek came to rest on the side of my head and I felt my heart break that little bit more, because it reminded me that in a second, or two, I wouldn’t have that sense of protection he now offered, shielding me from the rest of the world.

“You’ve been put through the wringer.” George murmured and I had to laugh just a little bit, he laughed too, the sound of it reverberating through his chest to where my head rested. “Fucking cry if you want to, alright? No judgement here."

I spluttered a little on my next chuckle, smiling as I wiped at my eyes. George’s arm just tightened its hold by a fraction, as though he knew it would make things that little bit easier. We both sat there like that for a while, and I appreciated the fact that he was okay with a bit of quiet. That he didn’t run scared from it or try to start up an awkward conversation simply to fill it.

Silence was something I’d come to realise that George often favoured. Because sometimes that was all you really needed.

I don’t know how long we continued like that before he shuffled and pulled that same piece of paper from earlier back into view, holding the corner of it between his forefinger and thumb. I pulled away slightly, looking down at it and then back up at him with a small frown.

“What?”

George merely blinked, staring down at the paper with an odd look before he finally placed it in the hand I had resting on my thigh. My frown only deepened.

“What is it?” I asked him, finger trailing over an edge just as he had done when I’d first spotted it. When I went to unfold it from the opposing corner, he stopped me. 

Confused, I turned to raise a brow at him, only to find him already looking back at me. He bit into his lower lip and then flattened his mouth into a stern line, “I found that when I was last in the studio.”

My chest tightened for some reason, but I was still so baffled. “Okay?”

We were sitting up better now, George’s arm having slipped from my shoulders to come to rest in his lap, fingers trailing over his left hand’s rigid set of knuckles.

“I figured you should see it.” He added in his usual drawl, though his eyes flickered up from the paper to catch mine then and I realised it must've been important. He seemed wary enough to warrant it.

I went to unfold it once again, but then his hand really reached out to stop my own, “I don’t know if I should be here when you do.”

That alone made me even more curious, although there was an edge of caution that now warred at me. “Why?”

George gifted me a gentle smile, the hand that still laid over top of my own squeezing kindly. “I’ll go grab us some food, alright? If you want to open it then do, if not. I won’t mention it again.”

He moved to stand then but my hand shot out to grab at the sleeve of his arm, “George.” But I didn’t know what else to say, I knew I was fearful though.

His fingers moved to meet mine, resting there for a short moment, “It’s your choice. Just, I couldn’t keep it from you.”

I swallowed thickly as he pushed to his feet, the scuff off his heavy boots bouncing off the hardwood floors. Slowly he moved to grab his jacket, giving me time to say no, to deny his offer. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t do much of anything really.

The door shut behind him with a soft click a minute later and the quiet of the studio suddenly consumed me. When I glanced back down at the paper I held once more I saw the slight tremble of my hands. I forced myself to exhale, but even that was shaky.

I was careful as I unfolded it, listening to the rustle it made before scrawled lines that had bled through to the other side caught my attention. Pausing, I took a moment to just look at them and then thoughtlessly hurried to reveal the rest of it, taking in its full form. My throat tightened at the sight of familiar scribbles.

You had me from the start  Pulling all the stops out  On the down low, secretly  But I think you knew your psychology  Was working on me  Infatuated  And doing this all wrong  You've got  My number and my name  And you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going  Can I see you every day?  Do you love me  Like I love you?  Ah, you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going

(Song: Ride - Future Love)

It was as if something in me had shifted and then turned, sparking itself its very own flame on a bone too sharp and growing and growing until its singed edges burnt and blackened every part of me. 

I must've sat there staring down at it for ages. Crying silently and alone in an empty room, something I’d been avoiding doing since this had all started. Though I supposed it had been inevitable.

His words. His thoughts. Bared to me on a single page. Him none the wiser to any of it. Probably having not even realised it was gone, or missing. And George had read it. He’d seen it and still, after everything, had given them to me.

A tear dropped from my chin then, blotting the page and I could only watch on as the dark ink appeared to cling to it, seeping further and further into the paper. Smudging the ‘Do you love me’ enough so that my breath stuttered and I was suddenly moving all too quickly for my mind to catch up with my thoughtless actions.

Not even a second later my phone was in my hand. 

Messages now To: Jamie O (glasses!) When can he meet me? 

–

Matty had always had a thing for Sundays. 

There was just something about them. Not all that Godly shite that people preached about it being holy and the first day of the week, ‘cause to him Monday would always hold that title- and Monday’s fucking sucked dick. 

No, it was because there was just something peaceful that settled on Sundays, it took him back to simpler times, of days when he’d just been a kid and roast dinners were spent ‘round his nana’s house. Or when Newcastle would play on afternoons and his dad would finally be home to watch with him. 

There was just something about them, you know. He didn’t much believe in luck, typically only the bad sort. But if someone held a gun to his head and told him he had to claim a day which would forever work in his favour, it would just have to be Sunday.

Still, he was unsure on where he currently stood with that sentiment as of late. Seeing as how he was currently in the backseat of a cab, jittery hands clinging onto shaking knees whilst rows of houses, broken up by hues of green and blue, rolled on past him.

It hadn’t been a last minute thing, but it felt much like it. The anticipation was getting to him, he knew that much, sweat licking at the back of his neck whilst his shoulders worked their way up to the lobes of his ears.

Jamie had somehow managed it.

Called him up late last night just before Ross had headed off to bed to tell him that she would finally see him. Jamie’d asked if he’d be alright going alone or if they’d prefer a buffer there, but Matty had immediately declined. So he was doing it alone. Though he couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a misstep on his part, if it would have made things easier on her having someone there, or maybe just given him some semblance of relief as the car slowly drove its way over to her house. The very place he hadn’t stepped foot in since the night of George’s birthday party.

But he hadn’t earnt that reassurance. Felt wrong to bring somebody else along either way. So he was stuck, toying with his phone, hoping or praying that a text wouldn’t come through saying that she’d gone and changed her mind.

It had been just under a week since he’d last seen her. But it felt as though time had dragged out slowly, mocking him or maybe even torturing him for all of his many wrongdoings. 

He fretted over what she might say when she caught sight of him, he himself having only spotted the state he’d worked himself into when he’d been getting ready that morning.

There were heavy bags set beneath his eyes from where he hadn’t really slept and his cheeks were hollowed in that way that they used to revert to when he’d have a particularly hard weekend way back when. If the papers caught wind of him he already knew what the first articles would say, what they would so obviously claim. But he knew the truth, just hoped that she would know it too.

He was startled from his mind at the jerk of the car pulling up onto the nearest curb. His eyes widened in sudden alarm when he realised just what that meant and then caught the look of dismay that crossed the driver’s face when the bloke looked back to announce that they’d arrived. If the man didn’t already think he was on something, then now he definitely did.

Matty swallowed stupidly and then tried for a smile, struggling to undo his seatbelt with the kickstart of shaking that overtook his hands. The driver took pity on him though, turning away to fiddle with something up front that probably didn’t need fiddling with, and finally Matty’s thumb managed to catch the button.

Releasing himself from the confines of the car, he paused just before the door could slam close behind him, handing the man a couple notes in tip, if only to apologise for his edgy behaviour or buy himself a little more time if the driver had somehow managed to suss him out even with his hat, hood and scarf. “Cheers.” He said.

The man blinked at the onslaught of cash and then nodded repeatedly, “Yes, thank you.”

Matty exhaled shakily and then dipped his chin in another goodbye, stepping back onto the curb and watching the cab pull away before he found himself alone once more.

This was it, he supposed.

The street hadn’t changed much in a matter of days but his mind made it seem as though it had. As though suddenly he didn’t belong. The odd man out.

He shoved his hands into the confines of his pockets, pivoting on his heel to face what he’d come here to do. But nothing had prepared him for the way his stomach suddenly bottomed out at the sight of her front door.

The sound of a car horn a way away spooked him, causing him to jump, but did eventually force him forward off the curb and onto the cracked pavement. He stared down at all the dips and curves they had to offer him the entire way up the path until finally, he reached her front steps.

If anyone asked, Matty would tell them it was as though he’d been working on autopilot when he pried the silver knocker up from the wood and let it rap twice. Though that would be an utter lie. His head screamed at him the whole while and his fingers blurred before him when he’d raised them up to grasp at the chilled metal. 

He’d never felt so sick, just standing there, the seconds slowly trickling into minutes, or perhaps even hours. It honestly felt as the day was slowly growing colder the longer that he stood there, staring at a coat of familiar paint, before finally hinges creaked and the door opened, revealing a sight that would’ve surely cured sore eyes, if only it hadn’t gone and broken his heart first.

It wasn’t immediate, the effect the past couple days had had on her. It was more in the way she held herself, the sadness which clung to her every fibre, the way she wouldn’t quite look him in the eye.

She stared, caught in a standstill, and for a long moment did nothing before silently and slowly she withdrew enough to allow him through.

Matty didn’t dare utter a word, let alone breathe. Careful to avoid brushing against her or stepping on her toes as he slowly crossed over the threshold to get in, though the hands he’d hidden in his coat pockets curled into fists to keep himself steady.

The first thing he noted upon first entering was the significant state of the flat, it wasn’t messy or untidy by any means, but looked nothing at all like a house typically inhabited by a child should, or at least a monster as chaotic as he knew Teddy to be. It was almost as though Mouse had been expecting a letting agent to pass through with a couple dozen couples, what with how clean it was. He almost reckoned that if he were to crouch down right there he’d probably be able to make out the seam of his jeans in the reflection of the floors.

“You can just hang your-”

“I know.” Matty whispered, not intentionally meaning to cut her off but unable to help himself anyway. 

It hurt, feeling as though he was just a guest in a place he had practically considered home not too long ago. He coughed lightly and shrugged off his coat to do so anyway, hanging it up where he usually did, something which made him pause for a split second, wondering whether this could possibly be the last time he’d have the privilege of doing so.

“Right.” Mouse murmured somewhere behind him, snapping Matty out of his thoughts. She stepped on by him just after, eyes trained on the end of the hallway until they reached the living room, “Erm, I’m just starting on a brew. You can wait here if you want.”

He wanted to follow after her, to fall down onto his knees and fucking sob there at her feet, but he was scared he’d dirty her floors or more than likely end up looking like a total knob. He would. Fucking felt like one just from thinking it. So he did as instructed, moving towards the sofa, taking note of everything and anything the room had to offer him. 

Matty’s eyes flickered over to the kitchen doorway when he realised she’d stopped there, fiddling with her nails before she caught him looking and dropped her hands. “Just realised I didn’t ask if you wanted anything.”

God, it was so fucking strained.

He took a short breath in and attempted to smile, “Tea sounds good.” Was all that he said, and watched on as her brow wrinkled, head tilting with it.

“Uh, I still have that coffee you like. The one you brought over, if you’d prefer.” She told him and he recognised her confusion for what it was, or maybe it was just her weariness over letting him know that his stuff was still where he’d left it. Or, maybe, just fucking maybe he was reading way too much into everything.

“Tea’s good.” Matty murmured, feeling a little less tense now that he knew that she was sort of sitting in the same boat. “But thanks.”

Her chest rose and fell with her next breath and he watched her nod with difficulty at him, still not meeting his eye. “Right, just be a sec then.”

She disappeared past the door with that, whilst he simply stood and listened to the run of the tap and then the flick of the kettle, feeling stupid for having missed something he hadn’t even realised he’d taken note of before. 

But that was just typical, wasn’t it? To miss something so mundane now that it was no longer expected.

Once he heard the clink of mugs Matty allowed his gaze to roam, trailing over the bundle of neatly folded throws settled on the wicker basket by the sofa, ones he knew that if Teddy was here would still be scattered all over the floor before the tv. 

There were a couple of coasters laid out on the coffee table, though the fruit bowl had since been removed, something he knew Mouse did whenever there were only a few pieces left or none at all. There would probably be grapes or something of the sort in the fridge though.

She had a couple of receipts left out on the shelf below the mirror she’d hung up on the wall when she’d first moved in, and the picture frames beside them were still the same. Only one was missing, and he knew which. 

He noticed that the candles over by the lamp were new though, expensive if he remembered rightly because he was sure that he’d spotted them round someone else’s place recently. He wondered briefly over who could’ve gifted them to her, knowing that she much preferred her usual scents, only ever splurging on the larger Yankee Candle jars they had to offer in the local Debenhams.

He found himself smiling at the thought.

It was then that she shuffled back into the room though, stalling his observations. She carried two mugs in her hand and a small plate loaded with biscuits on her forearm. Immediately Matty moved to help her, taking the plate from her even with knowing that she had it handled.

“I could’ve managed.” She murmured, though not unkindly, and then thanked him quietly once she’d gone and placed the mugs down. 

Matty followed her lead, settling the biscuits near the edge of the coffee table, between the two coasters, before fumbling for a second over where to sit. Squeaks seemed to take to one end of the settee so Matty perched on the other, though closer to the middle crease than the arm.

“You got hobnobs?” Matty finally asked, breaking the silence again, eyes flicking over to the plate he’d just held before shooting back over to find her.

She blushed faintly at his comment, then shrugged. “You like them, don’t you?”

Matty scoffed lightly, a soft smile limning his lips, “Yeah, but you hate them. Once claimed that they were like digestives only after being shat out.”

She wrinkled her nose at that, though Matty was quite sure he could spot the mirth that flickered across her face. “Want them or not?”

Rolling his eyes in fond exasperation and knowing not to push it, he picked one up and settled in a little more comfortably into the sofa cushions.

The silence would’ve been almost unbearable if she hadn’t had the foresight to have turned the tv on low before he’d arrived. So whilst a documentary played on one of the many BBC channels, Matty struggled with himself to find the best thing to say. Though he needn’t have bothered, she was always one step ahead.

“So, I think I should start by saying that I um, I know I held a lot of expectations.” 

Almost simultaneously, Matty frowned.

She just wrung her hands together once before thinking better of it and laying them flat in her lap. Matty merely wished to reach out and take them in his own. “And I get that it must’ve been a struggle for you, to basically go from like one end of a scale and then jump right off the other side. But, I-”

“What are you on about?” Matty interrupted, unable to help himself in truth, so beyond baffled by the sudden speech she’d started. She stopped and blinked over at him, finally looking him in the eye. At last.

“What do you mean?” She retorted with a pinch between her brows, “Listen, I planned this all out, alright? So can I just get out what I want to say?”

Matty stared, then forced out a breath of air. “Squeaks,” She shuttered at the name, closing off slightly, enough so that Matty took quick note and wished he hadn’t said a thing, but yet, he still carried on. Desperate to save any blundered attempt he’d make. “Look, this weren’t on you. None of it was, okay?”

Her eyes trailed back over towards him at that, though her expression was almost unreadable. Matty struggled with that bit the most, he’d always been able to read her for the most part.

“So, this crap about expectations and me struggling with whatever idea you’ve made up in your mind is stupid.” Her eyes narrowed then and he watched her work her jaw, obviously none too happy about his retort. He withheld a heavy sigh, “I’m not- Look, I’m not trying to be difficult I’m just saying that- What I’m trying to say is, that every relationship has goals or expectations, that’s normal. But nothing you ever did forced me do what I did. That shit? It was all on me. It was me being insecure and scared, yeah? So, don’t go trying to excuse it. Because I’ve had people do that for me for far too fucking long now and hearing it come from you...” 

He sort of felt himself slump at that, a little bitter and resentful over the fact that she’d since come to think of it that way. As though his mistakes were all just down to her and her inability to do right by him. He realised though, belatedly, that if anyone else had done exactly that, or even attempted to, in any other scenario he just might have taken up the offer and ran with it. But this was her, this was Squeaks. 

She was quiet for a time, then she picked up her mug, eyes trained on the movement of it before, “What then?” 

“What?” Matty frowned once more, shuffling forward in his seat in an attempt to catch her eye again.

“Why did you do it then? Why’d you lie, why didn’t you tell me about Teddy?”

That knot he’d been feeling for weeks now. The one at the very end of his tongue, all tied and tangled in the back of his throat, suddenly shrivelled up and slackened, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a plethora of guilt behind.

Matty’s gaze wandered over to the window, to where Teddy’s guitar sat in its stand just before a heavy set of grey curtains. He withheld the urge to pick at his nails as he searched for the right words to give her, wanting so honestly to tell her the truth, to give her a play by play of what had happened in detail, as well as every thought that had gone through his mind. 

“It wasn’t what it looked like for a start.”

Mouse scoffed a little at that, and Matty couldn’t be mad at it. If he was sat on the other end of this he’d been doing more than just that, he’d be up in arms, tossing shit about and raving to all who would listen.

Still, his eyes trailed down to where his hands now laid in his lap and he pressed his thumb to his palm. “We were on the highstreet, on the way back here.” He started, voice quiet as his stare tracked the faint lines of his hand, “The guy you saw in the pictures came out of nowhere really. Me and Teds had just been at that ice cream shop a way down, I didn’t even spot him until he was there, in my face.”

Matty wet his lower lip, mouth suddenly going dry. Mouse just waited.

“Teddy was quick to hide behind me, you know? The loudmouth didn’t even really notice him until the last minute. But you have to know, all I wanted was to get him out of there. To avoid staying too long and attracting the wrong sort of attention. Okay? So I’d said I had to get going as soon as he'd spoken, told him I didn’t have time to stay and chat.” 

He took a quick breath with that, eyes still centred on the deepest groove of his palm. “But then he, then he brought up Luke. Said something about the funeral he didn't go to and wanting to celebrate his life.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Squeaks’s hands still from their previous bout of fidgeting. “But I told him I was clean. He didn’t believe me at first, which,” Matty huffed out a self-deprecating laugh, “Well, I can’t blame him for that, what with my track record.”

He heard her inhale then and looked up, it seemed as though she was going to say something but thought better. So Matty bit down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from asking before he exhaled slowly, digging a nail into that groove.

“He got a bit aggy, started calling me a toff and whatnot, because I 'spose I was just a rich boy who bought him a couple grams of coke every now and then.” He clucked his tongue thinking about it, but eventually shrugged. “Then I don’t know, he must’ve looked down or something ‘cause that’s when he,” Matty paused and his gaze shot over to her, then away again, “That’s when he spotted Teddy.”

Mouse wrinkled her mouth, then tried to nod, obviously wanting him to continue. Though she kept her eyes trained on the rim of her mug.

“That’s when he said some shit and I reacted.”

“Said what?”

Matty startled a little at the sound of her question but was hasty in his attempt to answer. “Just, he reckoned that Teddy was mine and that I had to have knocked someone up. So now they were just using me for the money.”

Her eyes slipped closed and her fingers tightened their grip on her cup.

Swallowing thickly, Matty went to continue, “I shoved him and told him to do one- that’s what they caught in those photos. I didn't take anything he offered, I didn't even look back after. Just walked away, thinking of Teddy, trying to get him out of there. The bloke, he kept on shouting, saying some crap about this and that. But I carried on walking.”

Matty was proud of that fact, even with everything that had happened since. Not too long ago, a different version of him would have handled it all too severely. It was a step, a tiny one, sure, but it was progress.

“Then what?” Mouse voiced, prompting him along with just a look.

“Then we walked home.” Matty replied, feeling that familiar cloud of shame dawn over him. “We didn’t really speak, I- I was a bit of a mess, trying to figure out what to do next, what to tell Teddy, to say to make it right again. But Teds, he,” Matty hauled in his next breath, all too fucking close to bawling, that he could admit. “He called for me and I looked down at him. All I could say was sorry, Mouse.”

She nodded tightly, the knuckles she had wrapped around her tea cup had whitened.

“He,” Matty felt the corners of his mouth lift as he remembered the bittersweet memory of Teddy trying to soothe him, “He told me it was alright, that we were okay, but I just kept on saying sorry. He said that the bloke was just a bad man, and I assured him of that. Wanting him to know that we were okay, that the guy was long gone. But then he-”

Matty stopped altogether then, a picture of Teddy's little face coming to the forefront of his mind, and Squeaks immediately took note.

“Then what?”

Her eyes were so full of emotion, but which ones he wasn’t too sure. Still, the sight tightened every muscle in his chest as he forced himself to finish what he’d started. “He said we couldn’t tell you.”

Matty knew he couldn’t have imagined the sharp inhale that sounded from her then, as though she'd just received a blow to the chest. And he so desperately wanted to reach out, to wrap her up and just fucking hold her. But he couldn't. It wasn't his place.

He watched on as she licked at her top lip though, blinking back the wetness that shone in her eyes, “Why?” Her voice cracked on the question but she did not cry.

It was a simple answer. “He didn’t want to hurt you.”

Mouse stood then, placing the cup down with some force before she hastily made her way over to the front window. Matty stayed seated, unsure if he’d be welcome near her.

“It fucking broke me, Squeaks.” He admitted after a moment, his lips now tingled with the sheer amount of effort it took for him to not let his emotions get the better of him. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“You should have told me.” Was her reply, sharp and cutting, enough that it fucking wounded. Because Matty knew that she was right.

“I know.” He answered.

“You should have fucking told me, Matty!” She repeated, turning then to face him. He saw the tremble of her shoulders, the curve of her mouth and how it quaked. He stared, couldn't bring himself to look away.

“I know.”

He swallowed, throat almost aching as much as the hole that made up the majority of his chest. 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

“I don't know.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

#the 1975 #fic #matty healy #angst #radio host #reader #x reader #x you #george daniel #ross macdonald #the 1975 band #adam hann #fluff #humour #smut #matty healy fic #matty 1975 #matty healy x reader #matty x reader #matty healy x you #ao3 #fame #strangers to lovers #mum reader #kid fic #getting together #SLOWBURN #mutual pining #Warnings #aipoban

[iloveoldermen-posts]

Oh Captain, My Captain

My Little Note -> the 'Captain' John Price one-shot of 141 when the reader's apt gets broken into.

Warnings: slight swearing, unsure about continuation of the one-shot, gender neutral however i have not proof read ୨୧

"I hope you had a nice night," John grubbles over the quiet music. He looks beautifully rugged in the streetlights that are gleaming into his car.

"I did thank you, got me out of the house which I haven't done for a while." I reply sincerely, turning away when John catches me staring. It causes my cheeks to burn up and a chesty chuckle to echo across my brain.

My thoughts are interrupted by the stop of his engine, I look up at my apartment and sigh, "thank you for dragging me out, I hope I see you soon."

"Nu-uh. Don't be silly, I'm going to walk you up. Need to make sure my heart's at rest knowing you're safe." John replies as he walks over to the passenger side and opens the door for me.

"What a gentleman," I gush just after thanking the chiviralous man. He really knows how to fill up a tumy with butterflies.

We don't talk much on the way to my apartment, probably because he was behind me and in his words 'making sure I don't fall.' Like we have literally had the same amount to drink, he is the most dramatic man I know.

Once we reached my floor, he quickly matched my pace to walk by me.

He noticed it before me, the thing that made my stomache drop and heart jump into my throat. My door was agar, the one that I defintely locked. I triple checked for crying out loud!

John looked back at me with a look of worry and sympathy.

"Make sure you stay behind me, I don't want you to get hurt." He says cautiously whilst retrieving the gun out of his holster. Thank god he is here, I don't know what I would do otherwise.

He steps into the apartment slowly, looking around it thoroughly. The state it's left in causes me to audibly gasp, it's ransacked. John looks back at me with a look that asks if I am okay to continue, I give a short, weak nod in response.

He must decide that not enough for him because he swiftly turns us around and rushes us back down stairs and into his truck. He once again opens the door for me and only then, in the comfort of his car I ask a question, "what are we doing?"

"Well, I am going to call one of the boys to finish checking up and take you home with me. At least fot the night, is that okay?" He answers as he pulls out his phone to get 'one of the boys' on the phone.

"Thank you." I nod slightly sitting back, relaxing into the seat of his car. I let my eyes close and the softness of the radio soothes me into a peaceful sleep.

I wake up to the musky scent of Price's cologne surrounding me and I bury my head closer to the source - his sturdy chest that I was resting on as he carried me into his house.

"Goodmorning sleepy," John says as my eyes flutter open. I hum in responce, too enchanted with the fact I'm safely in this hunk of a man's arms.

He carries me into the house, only putting me down once he reached the bed.

"Okay, you can stay in here and I will be on the couch just in the living-room, I'll set out a tee-shirt andsome boxers for you to wear. Just wake me up if you need anything," he says rumaging through his drawers.

"We are both adults, can you please stay..?" I hesitantly ask.

"Of course I can love."

<3

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[syo0x]

• Chuuya, Fyodor, Nikolai with a s/o who have brain tics!

Requested by: @paniatheweirdone

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Chuuya

Chuuya has been really protective over you. He doesn't like seeing you uncomfortable, he would always shows you with affection and telling things that make you feel more comfortable and confident about yourself. He wants you to be more comfortable around him. What's only on his mind is what's good and comfortable for you. And he definitely understands when you were having a hard time with physical contact, yet you have to always make sure to assure him cause sometimes he gets insecure and lonely since he always wanted to be feel held and loved.

Scenario

You and Chuuya were relaxing while he looked at you. A random question came to your mind on what chuuya thinks of you having tics? You were bothered by this as you asked him.

"Chuu.. you know i have tics right..?"

“I know, Doll.” He chuckles softly, and looking at you with gentleness. “You also know I ain’t mind ‘em none.” He said smiling.

"Hmmm really?" You said.

“Aye, really.” He smiled, as he loose strand of your hair softly and carefully. “Tics don’t take away from how beautiful you really are, Doll.” He said smiling.

“Besides…it’s just some small things about ya. Nothing that ain’t gonna change how much I love you, anyways.”

You were touched by his words.. and of course, you know how much he loves you, as he always makes sure you feel it and always assures you that he loves the way you are. You then hugged him tightly and smiled, looking like you've fallen to him even more.

You wanted to give something to him... and of course, you wanted to make him feel what he always makes you feel too. As you leaned closer to hugged him, he was surprised and melt into your embrace as he carefully hugged you back and kissed your forehead.

"I love you, doll.. So don't even think of letting yourself down, " He said while both of you shared your warm embrace. He wanted to stay like this forever.. as you do too.

Fyodor

When Fyodor's finds out about that, he's rather become more possesive after all you're his and he don't seem have a problem about that yet he finds adorable and the way you were showing your weakness and imperfection makes him feel superior as he was in charge of you. Therefore, he doesn't like the way you were sometimes hesitant about physical contact, and therefore, he understood as long as you were aware that you've given yourself to him. He wanted you to be his and only his... and he always makes you clear about that.

Scenario

You peeked over to his what was he doing.. you know he hates to bothered but your curiosity is eating you slowly. You were quite and not so sure of what's he's going to say, but he never showed any negative about your condition.

You went to face him as you hust hoped he's not busy.

"Hmm.. Something wrong Myshka..?" He said and looking at you carefully as it was reading you.

"Nothing really.. just...." You were hesitant to say it as he spoke.

"Is it about your condition?" He said, as expected... he knows you and able to read you very well.

His smile grows into a sly grin as he moves around you in a slow circle, his purple eyes appraising every inch of your body. "You know my answer to that, dear. Tics only serve to make you an even more desirable creature. Your flaws and imperfections are all the reasons why i wanted you, you know."

He slowly get closer to you as runs his hands across your shoulders, chuckling softly. "I believe I made myself clear when we met, my love. Your oddities are all the things that make you so unique, so captivating." Suddenly, his hand moves to your cheek, and he pulls your chin up so he can look down at you from a higher perspective. "You're lucky I'm rather fond of these peculiarities otherwise… He lets his words hang in the air, his gaze sharp and his voice laced with teasing.

You were not surprised but you were kind relieved you say... He's still a scary man as you think about it.. but that does not stop from you loving eachother.

He brings his hand to your hair, running his fingers through it softly. "However, I do believe I am growing increasingly annoyed with the fact that you continue to ask me this same question over and over again, just to seek praise."

You were surprised by that.. however he was not wrong about that...

"Hhm.. sorry.. i was just curious.." You said sounded apologetic and shy.

He remains silent as he runs his thumb along your right temple. Curious and persistent, hmm? An almost cruel smile curves his lips as he moves his thumb away and starts to run his hand through your hair again. "Maybe it's about time I start punishing your naughty behaviour."

That scary smile of him makes you really nervous... but as you just think it was half worth it to ask him that.

Nikolai

Nikolai would adore you.. and he doesn't really care of you having it, but he gets annoyed that you don't give him much physical contact since he's a very touchy person and always wants to be held. Nikolai is playful as sometimes trying to sneak up to you to hug you.. and he knows when is the right time to do that. He doesn't want you to make you uncomfortable that much. Therefore, he's obsessive when it comes to you.. he would never let go of someone so rare, adorable condition like you.

Scenario

After your condition has strike earlier.. Nikolai staring at you softly as it makes you embarrassed as you spoke.

"Hmm.. sorry you have to see that" You said.

Nikolai pauses for a moment, he looks at you for a bit before letting out a chuckle.

“You’re cute when they happen, even if they do get a bit annoying sometimes.” He teases you.

"Annoying..?" You said with curiosity.

He then looked at you, frowning playfully.

"I won't get to hold you or hugged you... or kissed you.." He added.. as he smiled “But you're the ticciest and cutest person I know. I really never noticed, just makes it more adorable... like a cute dove struggling to fly.. makes you even want you more.."

He said sounded serious in that part.. which makes you nervous a litte. He looked at you and his expression has no longer filled with playful look.

“Yes..." He chuckled "It’s adorable. Everything you do is adorable... so that's why you're mine dove.." he said as he whispered to words on your ear and kissed your cheek, as he quickly changed into his playful expression again and changing the topic.

“So? Guess what I did today!”

You were completely baffled on what just happened... it's really hard to predict what was Nikolai was thinking as you let out a sigh as you just smiled.. you were glad he didn't think of anything bad on your condition... but you were still worried of what he just said earlier tho...

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#bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd fluff #chuuya x reader #fyodor x reader #nikolai x reader