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allyeardepression · 3 months

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@jegulus-microfic | feb 7 star | words: 1037

Hi so I went a bit overboard with this one but I’m having so much fun writing those you guys have no idea

Anyways enjoy <3

GUYS IT HAS PART 2 NOW WTFFF

James

pads i need you to come here like RIGHT NOW

Pads

???

Who are you?

James looked at the message confused.

James

your best friend?? who needs your help with your dog?????

Pads

Wrong number.

Now he was super confused. He talked with Sirius this morning. He called this number and he talked with Sirius.

James

this is really not the time for pranks pads

moony isnt answering his phone and gigi is vomiting all over my place

what do i do???????

The answer didn’t come right away, but when it did his confusion grew even further. He was trying to give the poor Gigi a bowl to puke into when he read ‘I might know what happened. Send me the address, I’m coming over.’ Without thinking twice he shared his location with the person who was supposed be his best mate. After that, he put down his phone and went back to calming Gigi and giving her some water. If it works for people, it should work for a dog, right? RIGHT???

15 minutes later he heard the doorbell ring and that’s when it hit him. Sirius knows where he lives. Sirius wouldn’t take this long to get to his precious child, as he calls the black mass of fur on James’ carpet. This really wasn’t Sirius.

His first reaction was panic - who the fuck did he send his address to? Then he thought he could pretend he’s not here. But what about Gigi?

When the doorbell rang for the second time, he decided to text that person.

James

who are you again?

Pads

Open the door. I’m not going to kill you.

Or am I?

Now he was scared. Although it was a bit funny, he had to give them that.

Slowly he went to the door, checking in the viewfinder who is on the other side. Unfortunately the person had their back turned to him so it didn’t give him anything. With shaky hands he turned the key and opened the doors with a gentle creak. Hearing that, the person in front of him turned and- wow.

The snow-white face was surrounded by a delicate halo of black waves. His strong jaw and sharp cheekbones could make him look rough if it weren't for his soft, pink lips, turned up in a gentle smile, and his eyes. Eyes in which you could immerse yourself as if in an endless, silvery cloud of stardust.

“Hi there, Sunshine” Sirius’ younger brother said passive-aggressively. Ah, nothing has changed since school. Also, it would explain the ‘wrong number’’ thing. Somehow?

“Hello, Little Star” James replied with a nervous smile, after clearing his throat several times. They stayed there in the doorway for few seconds, intense enough to make it feel like hours.

Finally, James cleared his throat for the last time and turned, letting Regulus in. “Thank god you’re not a murderer” he laughed lightly as he led his guest (his one-man-rescue-team?) to the living room, where Gigi was shaking under fluffy blanket.

“Did you give her something?” Regulus asked, kneeling next to the poor thing.

“What? No! Why and what would I give her?” James burst out, terrified of the accusation. What if he accidentally gave her something he shouldn’t have and now she’s going to die? That would mean he was going to die shortly after. Oh no, oh no, oh-

“Calm down, I was just making sure. Look at your carpet” Reg grumbled pointing at the destroyed thing.

“Yeah, I know - she puked at it like a thousand times. No need to point it out” James huffed, now irritated a bit by Regulus’ rudeness.

“I- That’s not what I meant” shorter man laughed softly, such a sweet sound. “She ate a pice of it, look at the right corner.”

“What do you- oh” in the whole mess oh vomits he didn’t even notice a part of the carpet disappeared. “So she was just-“

“Clearing her stomach, yeah” Reg smiled at him crookedly. “She did the same to my shoe last week. Just give her some water for now and we’ll take her to the vet.”

“What do you mean we? I can handle a vet appointment” James said, pouring some water for his goddaughter (yes, she’s his goddaughter, fuck off).

“No, you can’t. Now take her, I’ll drive” Regulus said strutting out of the room. James just lifted the, whatsoever, heavy dog and ran after his best friend’s brother.

He asked Reg to close the door behind them and take the key. The clinic wasn’t far away from his flat, but either way it felt like forever to get there since Regulus refused to talk to him, because ‘it distracts him’.

When they finally got there, the vet just laughed at them for coming to her for the second time in a week and cooed at Gigi, mumbling something about her ’cool uncles not being very good for her’ (hopefully jokingly but who knows). She checked if Gigi was alright, gave her some medicine and asked them to come in few days for checkup.

Walking out of the clinic Regulus asked James if he needed any help with cleaning up after Gigi’s accident.

“Actually yeah, would you help me?” he replied with hopeful eyes.

“I literally just suggested that” Reg said, rolling his eyes.

So, they did just that. They rolled the destroyed carpet, cleaned the floor and some of the mess left on the sofa Gigi was sleeping soundly in the corner of.

When they finished, Regulus went to the door, with James thanking him all the way down the hall. They stood in the doorway again, same intense silence between them as before.

Reg cleared his throat. “So, I’m gonna go now. Bye.”

James nodded slightly. “Thanks again” he said once more, getting a fond eye roll from the other man. With that Regulus turned and went to the elevator. Then…

“Hey, Reg?” He turned again, one brow raised. James gather himself, swallowed thickly and on the exhale, almost shy, he asked “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

The younger man stood there, both brows raised now. Slowly he smiled at James and nodded.

“I would love to, actually.”

#jegulus #starchaser #marauders #dead gay wizards #the marauders #james x regulus #james potter #regulus black #mlm

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punching-pentagrams · 2 months

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Love in a Hopeless Place

Chapter 9

I'm sorry for being so evil... Just kidding, here is a little more pain before it gets better 😘

Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader Word Count: 3.9k CW: Slowburn, Angst, Prostitution, Hurt/comfort, trauma, fluff, depression, anxiety, insecurity, alcohol/intoxication, fuckboi flirting

You get to the hotel and check in, it wasn't crazy fancy or anything, but it was nice, quieter, didn't reek of sex and drugs. You got up to the hotel room and, maybe because you were somewhere that didn't remind you of all of the pain from the night before, you were able to flop on the bed and fall asleep. You slept without any dreams, not a healing sleep per-se, but you had caught up on the sleep you had lost from the night before.

You look at your phone, damn, you basically slept your first day of vacation away. Oh well, vacations don't need to be productive. You stare up and the ceiling, your mind wandering from what you should do, back to Lucifer. You wonder how his day was, he probably knew his next few appointments were canceled at this point, would he be mad or disappointed? Would he remember what happened last night?

You shake your head and growl at yourself, tugging at your own hair in frustration, 'Why do I fucking care so much?!' You got up and paced the room. You ran your hands up your face and through your hair as you walked over to the window, and pressed your forehead to the glass looking out at your view for the next few days. You saw a few restaurants, bars, and stores that littered the main drag, until the name of one grabbed your attention, and made you chuckle.

"Rock Bottom, huh? Feels appropriate for tonight," you say out loud to yourself as you change into more appropriate "out in public" clothes. You were feeling like a loser, but at least you didn't want to look like one. You grabbed your purse, strapped on some heels, and hopped across the street to the bar that felt it aligned with how you felt about life at the moment.

The bar was a dive, but it was not bad. There was a chill downstairs and a spiral staircase off to one side that twisted up to another floor with some flashing colored lights and some guys singing some sad and off-pitch karaoke. Yup, this was the vibe for the night. Luckily, this bar did not seem super crowded and you were able to find a seat with ample space over near the side of the bar to set yourself at.

The bartender saw you and nodded in your direction while they were finishing a couple of drinks. "Be right with you in just a moment, sweetheart," the woman said while juggling her bottles and shakers.

"No problem," you said with a tired smile. You watched the woman flip and spin the bottles as the customers in front of her watched with excitement. You loved watching bartenders who could do cool tricks, it was not a requirement for their job of course, but you were sure it got them more tips and it always made you hope that they enjoyed what they did. Or maybe they were just trying to give themself some amount of joy in their hellhole of a job working with drunk people and their bullshit.

Eventually she passed off the drinks to the customers, tossed her towel over her shoulder, and headed over to you.

"Thanks for waiting, welcome to Rock Bottom, what can I get ya?" the woman asked you. She gave off a "cool biker mom" kinda vibe, lots of tattoos and piercings all over her, a biker looking vest and short cropped slicked back black hair with one big pink streak jutting back from her right temple, all being held back by a red bandana.

"Just a long island iced tea, please," you said softly.

"Ah, one of those nights huh?" She said cocking an eyebrow, "No problem, coming right up."

You lean more on the bar, "What do you mean by that?" you say with a sly smile and a squint.

The bartender waved her hand, "I'm sorry, you're not one of my regulars, I shouldn't joke so bluntly right off the bat. Normally, the heavier the starting drink, the more sorrow the customer is trying to drown out."

"Hmm. Well, you're observations are quiet astute, as that is exactly why I ordered it," you say with a cocky smile.

"Well, the down on their luck do happen to be our target audience," the woman says flipping her shaker and bottles again, "May I ask what we are drowning today?"

You make a raspberry sound and then rub your face.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," the woman said to you.

You laugh, "No it's fine, just hard to sum up in a quick statement. Just... work bullshit and... I don't know... utter fucking confusion of my life and what to do."

The woman nods sympathetically, "Sounds like hell." She looks at you, you both crack a smile and laugh. She hands you your drink.

"Sure is Hell... Just... almost felt like I had escaped it for a little... But anyways... I won't bother you more with my bullshit," you say looking down at your drink and taking it in your hands.

The woman shrugged, "Hell doesn't got therapists, bartenders are as close as they come. Name's Brooklyn if you need anything else, sweetheart." Brooklyn said, flipping the towel over her shoulder again as she went to greet another new guest who had settled on the other side of the bar. By the way Brooklyn greeted them, they looked like a regular.

You sipped on your drink and people watched for a while. As the night went on, you ordered some food and a few more drinks, watching people some and go. The room started to fill up with more patrons.

At one point, you saw a young Imp couple come in and snuggle into a booth together, kissing and snuggling, happily tipsy and enjoying each other's company. You sighed, you missed Lucifer and the way he would hold you. You wished it was real, you wished you could figure out if anything about your relationship with him was real. It also still drove you crazy trying to figure out why you would want it to be real. It was just a job... right?

Eventually, some drunk guy sauntered up to you. 'Oh boy, here we go.'

"Hey hot stuff, what are you doing moping over here by yourself, you're to sexy to be sad," he slurred at you, leaning on the bar.

You sighed, turned on your barstool and kicked one leg over the other, "Actually, I'm just sexy enough to be sad, thank you very much. Also... just out of curiosity, does this tactic ever work for you? The whole drunken loser with a backhanded compliment shtick?" You cock and eyebrow and smile.

"Wha- pffttt. Wow, why you gotta be such a bitch? I was just wanting to show you a fun time," he said leaning more into your face.

"Oh ya? And what would that look like? A minute of disappointing fingering and unimaginative attempts at dirty talk followed by five minutes of lack-luster penetration, doggy style with my unstimulated, unenthused, bone dry cooch while you scream "You like that you dirty little slut? You like how daddy fucks your tight little pussy, babygirl?" before you combust and roll over saying you are too tired to even attempt to make me feel any amount of pleasure, let alone getting me off? That kind of fun time?" you say giving him a smug smile.

The man in front of you just stares at you slack-jawed, so mad and confused he did not know what to say. You smirk, kick one of your heels up onto the middle of his chest, "That little bit of fun public degradation is the most fun we will be having tonight. Now get out of my face." You say as you push your foot against his chest, sending the man toppling backwards into a few onlookers that parted to let him drop to the floor and flail. You get a couple of whistles, claps, and hollers as you turn back to your drink.

Brooklyn stood at your end of the bar with a big smile on her face, "Well then! I was about to get ready to tell him to piss off, but you seem to have already handled it."

You shrug, "Men like him know they have no chance with shit like lines like that. They know they are going to get shut down and honestly, they love being put in their place. It's a kink for them, even if they would never want to admit it outright. I did him a favor really. If he is able to remember any of that interaction tomorrow, he'll have jerk off material for weeks." You say looking at him still splayed out on the floor.

Brooklyn howled with laughter, "Wow! That's incredible! Hey, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"No, I won't do you next," you say, you and Brooklyn erupt into more laugher. "Sorry, yes, ask away."

"Are you a sex worker?" Brooklyn asked. You nod. "Nice! My ex-girlfriend used to be a sex worker and she used to be able to mentally bulldoze men like that, so I was just curious. It's always so fun to watch."

"Guilty as charged, but I'm off the clock for a few days," you say.

"Ah, very good. Doing anything fun?" Brooklyn asked.

You picked up your cup and shook it.

"Just drink away your sorrows? Sounds like a bummer of a vacation," she says wiping down the counter.

You shrugged and sighed, "I just... have some things I need to figure out. Just needed some space for a few days."

She leaned on the bar, "Space from what, if I may be so bold?"

You nod, "Ehhh, it's... not something I can talk about with others."

She shrugged, "Fair enough. I'm here every day if you change your mind."

"Thanks." You finish up a couple more drinks, happily drunk and numb, thanked Brooklyn and paid for your evening, and waddled your way back to the hotel before passing out for the night.

______________________________________________________________

The next morning you wake up with a hangover, which you expected, but it was worth it. You scroll through your phone for a while, but eventually you realize that you aren't actually looking at anything , just scrolling just to scroll. You sigh and stare at the ceiling of the hotel room, the thoughts of your issue with Lucifer drifting back.

You eventually feel the thoughts start to frustrate you and you start to cry. Why was this so hard?! The thoughts did not seem to want to organize themself into anything helpful, just stagnated in place in your mind, floating around like milk soaked Cheerios. Hells, you wish you could talk to someone, literally anyone about your issues, but you couldn't. You ended up getting up and pacing again until you ended up pressing your forehead against the cold window again. You looked out at all of the stores and people walking around, until your eyes landed on the Rock Bottom. You smiled, thinking about Brooklyn and the drunk guy from the night before.

Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in your head. Brooklyn, you COULD talk to Brooklyn! You just could not give her exact details like Lucifer, Charlie, the hotel, but you could talk to her about it in more general terms. Yes! This was the answer! Well... if Brooklyn was serious about being someone that you could talk to. It... wouldn't hurt to at least ask, right?

You quickly got dressed and popped back across the street to the Rock Bottom. You walked inside the bar, it was a lot more slow during the day, but there were still a few customers scattered around the downstairs area. You saw a young man at the bar, but no Brooklyn. You were disappointed not to see her.

"Hey there!" the young man called out to you, "Welcome in, how can I help you?"

"Hey... sorry, umm... I was kinda looking to see if Brooklyn was here. I can come back later," you start to turn to leave.

"Oh! No she is here, she's just in the back. I'll go get her for you!" the young man said before disappearing into the back. A few minutes later, Brooklyn emerged from the back storage room, and smiled when she saw you.

"Ah! Afternoon, sweetheart. How are you doing today?" Brooklyn smiled.

"Hey! I'm doing... alright... Hope I'm not interrupting anything," you say rubbing your arm.

Brooklyn waved a hand, "Don't worry about it, just doing inventory, earlier to do during the day when it's slower. What can I do for you?"

"Well..." you start, looking at the floor, then balled your hands into fits to get yourself to ask, "Did you mean what you said about being here... if I needed to talk?"

Brooklyn smiled, and looked at her watch, "I'm sure I can squeeze you in for an appointment, you good waiting for my lunchbreak?"

You waved you hands, "Oh! I don't want to take away from your lunch break! Plus, I don't want you to get in trouble or anything with your boss."

Brooklyn laughed, you looked at her confused, "Sweetheart, I am the boss, I can do what I want, and right now, I want to hear about what's got you sulking to my part of town and drowning your sorrows in my bar." You smiled and nodded, you don't know what it was about her, but you trusted her. She kinda reminded you of your grandmother, in the cool spunky kinda way, also maybe a little bit of how you used to be with your siblings. You waited about an hour and a half at the bar to finish up her inventory, and then you and her went up to a little balcony on the second level of the bar.

"Welcome to my office, now tell me miss... oh fuck... I just realized I've never asked your name," Brooklyn said embarrassed.

You laughed, "It's ok, it's (y/n)."

"Well alright, miss (y/n). What's going on?"

You start, without giving away exact details, tell Brooklyn the tale of the last several months, getting hired by a powerful person to secretly be their prostitute, the sex turning into nights of supports on both sides, helping them reconnect with their child and helping them achieve their goals, how they defended you against an abusive client, you left out the extermination fight but did mention that they were wanting to keep you safe during that event, and finally the night that brought you here. The whole time, Brooklyn listened intently, nodding and sometimes asking a clarifying question or two.

At the end of that all, Brooklyn sighed. "I can see why you'd be feeling overwhelmed right now. It would be confusing to love someone and got some drunk inducted, confusing confirmation of returned feeling while in a weird role/power dynamic with them."

You nodded, "Ya..." you blinked as you processed what she had said, "Wait... what?"

She looked at you and raised an eyebrow, "What?"

You stared at her, "I... I never said I loved him."

She nodded, "Yes you did."

You stared at her, "When???"

She smiled, "With every word you said about this person, how you treated them, how you felt about how they treated you... You do love them, right?"

You thought through everything, every look, every touch, every nickname, every night in his arms, every time he showed up in your room, the way he protected you, the way you thought of him when we were alone or with other clients, the way you felt being with him and Charlie at the hotel, the unbridled fear you felt at him telling him telling you he loved you. Why you cared if you lost him. It was all because you were afraid of losing the love you felt from him. The love you felt for him.

You loved him, you loved Lucifer.

Tears poured from your eyes as the realization sunk into you. You turned to look at Brooklyn, "Oh my god... I love him."

Brooklyn laughed, "Did you not realize until just now?"

You shook your head, the tears getting heavier, "No!" you choked out, your breath heaving, "I've never knew love could feel like this. I've never felt this before!" You start to crumple inward as the tears overtake you.

Brooklyn's smile faded, "Oh sweetheart," she pulled you into a hug as you sobbed. You tried to apologize and she just shushed you.

After you calmed down, you sigh, "Ok but... how do I know if he actually loves me?"

"He does," Brooklyn said.

"How do you know?" you sniffle.

She gives you a look, "Girl, how many guys that hire hookers introduce them to their daughters and then keep bringing them around their daughter and her friends?"

You blinked.

"And if that isn't enough, he beat up another client that hurt you. He doesn't just love you. He is down bad for you," Brooklyn smiled.

"And you're sure?" you ask.

Brooklyn nodded, "100%, on my afterlife, or may Satan take my bar."

You sniffled again and laughed, "Well, I wouldn't want Satan to take over your bar... I don't know him, but I get the feeling he wouldn't be as good of a bartender as you." You and Brooklyn laugh.

You look out from the balcony, thinking about how somewhere far away, on the other side of the circle, Lucifer, the King of Hell, was in love with you. Maybe thinking about you. Missing you. It made your heart ache, thinking of how you had run away from him, when you now realize he was probably just too scared to tell you how he felt.

"Do you think he'll be mad at me for running away from him?" you ask Brooklyn.

She shook her head, "If he is any man worth keeping, and if there really is that much of a power dynamic difference, he'll understand why you did what you did."

You nod. At this point, Brooklyn had to go back to work. You hung out at the bar the rest of the night, not getting nearly as drunk this time.

The next two days, you would go back to the bar during Brooklyn's breaks to talk through new thoughts and insecurities, and Brooklyn would softly but firmly refute each one. Damn, is this what therapy was like in the living world? Life would have turned out different maybe if this was something you had back then. Oh well, it's too late now.

On your last day, you packed up your room and went to say goodbye to Brooklyn, she gave you a hug and wished you goodbye. Telling you that you were always welcome to come back and talk, and that she expected an invite to the wedding if it worked out. You both laughed.

Soon, it was time to get int the car and head back home, back to the Lounge, back to Lucifer.

_____________________________________________________________

A little bit later, you arrived back at the Lounge. You got out of the car, headed up to your room to drop off your bag, then headed downstairs to see Larry and tell him you were back.

You found Larry and he smiled to see you, "Babydoll! I'm so glad you're back. How're ya feeling?"

You smiled, "Much better, thank you for being patient with me."

"Of course! Now, here is your rescheduled appointments for tomorrow," he said handing you a list. You looked through, and were disappointed to not see "Lance" in his usual time. You looked up at Larry.

"No Lance?"

Larry shook his head, "We called him and let him know you were going on vacation, and he said he would call back when he wanted to reschedule." Ok, no problem. You could get that, maybe he just didn't want to jump on when you were going to be getting home from your break. Ya, that sounds like something he would do. He loved you, right? You could be patient.

You were patient... as days turned to weeks, and Lucifer did not call to schedule with you. Every day you lost more hope, life slipped back into the way it was before you had ever known him. Cynthhhhia watched you from the shadows of the brothel, pleased to see your decent into misery as she started to get more well paying client's again. Sure, playing nice with the customers did pay off, but so did knocking Larry's favorite girl off of her groove. And the best part? No, one would ever know.

One day you looked out the window of your apartment and sighed, "Guess you were wrong after all, Brooklyn. Looks like Satan will be coming for the bar after all."

You wanted to laugh at the idea of Satan trying to run a bar, but all you could do was cry as your newly discovered heart was now broken.

Serves you right for thinking that love was actually possible in such a hopeless place.

______________________________________________________________

Charlie's phone rang, she looked over to see her dad's ID pop up on her phone. She scrambled to pick it up, she had called him several times over the last couple of week and he had not been answered. It had her worried, he had not done this since before his visit to the hotel that brought them back together.

"Dad! Hi! It's so good to see you call. Are you ok?" Charlie asked.

Lucifer cleared his throat on the other end of the phone, "O-Oh course! Why, why would anything be the matter?"

"Uhh... because you haven't answered any of my calls in weeks? Also you and (y/n) were basically here every day and now I haven't seen either of you..." Charlie waited for a moment, Lucifer struggled to figure out what to say. Hearing your name made his heart sear with pain.

"Oh uh... we've uh... it's just been busy." Lucifer said.

"Dad, did something happened?" Charlie pleaded.

"I... I'm sorry sweetie, I can't talk about this right now. I was just calling to see if you could go to a meeting for me? Please?" Lucifer pouted. That was not a good sign. Something must have happened, but now did not seem like a good time to press, not over the phone anyway.

Charlie sighed, "Ok Dad, on one condition."

Lucifer paused, "That condition being???"

"Just... just come visit sometime this week, come have dinner with me? Please?" Charlie pleaded again.

Lucifer sighed, he may not have you, but he did still have his daughter, he couldn't lose that again, "Ok, I will."

"Great! I'll see you later! Text me the details of the meeting. I love you, Dad."

Lucifer told Charlie he loved her too, then Charlie hung up, and turned to see Vaggie, Angel, Husk, Alastor, and Niffty all looking at her in anticipation.

"What kin'a scheme you cookin' up now, Princess?" Angel asked.

"Well, would anyone up for a little, community "Emotional Intervention" bonding?" Charlie was met with a room full of mischievous, sharp, approving smiles.

______________________________________________________________

You guys, the Cynthhhhia hate is giving me LIFE, I'm so happy how much y'all hate her. Keep up with the ideas, how should she be brought to justice? 😈 As usual, leave a comment if you want added to the taglist so that you can get notifications when future chapters drop! xoxo, dany (OMG there are so many of you!😍 Please let me know if the tag isn't working for you) Taglist :(red names are not tagging for some reason 😢)@froggybich @wonderlandangelsposts @glowinthedarkbones1150 @marydragneell @crescent-z @superdinosaurnacho @jam0001 @kyo-kyo1 @so-get-this-sammy @lilzebeth @kelppsstuff @loquacious-libra @pinkhoneydrop @luleck @writer-girl99 @lavenz @stormz369 @littleladydemon @soujiswife @melday0105 @luluxx118 @sseleniaa @futureittomainn @cktkat @zaneyyyy @uravitsy @liecoris @starlitvenus @hannahrose130 @elleofdragons @butch-medusae @concentratedconcrete @erosamasan @stranger-chan @aquaamethyst96 @lxkeee @holyspacething @hulyenl @leximus98 @lu-ferri12 @mixplara @katnisspeetaprim @rebecca-hvnstn @roboticsuccubus83 @nekemewlita @femboyfatalle @thelethex @cryptidghostgirl @snowlotr @bangchansdirty-slut @glowymxxn @mcueveryday @hotvillianapologist @oneiric-rotaerc

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #fanfic #fanfic writing #lucifer x y/n #lucifer fanfiction #hazbin lucifer #lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin #fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfiction #slow burn #angst #it will get better

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smusherina · 24 days

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yard work - chapter 3 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 4

"So, have you heard of the new girl?" Regina asked, twirling a lock of hair on her finger.

You were still sitting on the couch several hours later. It was beginning to get dark.

"Caty Heron or something?"

"Cady, yes. What do you think of her?" Regina bit her bottom lip, sucking it and chewing at it in her mouth. Back when you were younger, her mom would've chastised her. Mrs George was lax about a lot of things, but she could not stand fidgeting. Nowadays, though, you doubted she had the heart to say anything negative to her daughter.

"I..." You tilted your head, thinking. "I don't really think of her. We're in the same calc class and she seems smart. Talks to Aaron a lot."

"Does she?" Regina narrowed her eyes and huffed. "I thought so."

"What? Don't tell me you're still hung up on Aaron Samuels. C'mon." You scoffed. "That dude, pretty as he is-" You knocked at your head. "All fluff, no substance. Hollow."

"Oh, because you would know so much about guys." Regina crossed her arms and stared at you petulantly.

"Yes, I would. I'm practically one of them." You shrugged nonchalantly. "By the way, shouldn't you get home?"

Regina didn't answer and just looked at you. You looked back, unsure of what she was thinking. You glanced around, wondering if you'd missed something.

"You're still- I mean, you're... A lesbian." She said slowly as if it were a curse word.

You laughed before answering. "Yes, Regina, I am still a lesbian. Just like I told you I was back then." You frowned. "Is there, like, a problem?"

"No." She said simply, but it didn't seem particularly truthful. "You don't know about what happened with Janis, then?"

"No, I just know she had to switch schools. Why, was it something you did?"

"No." Again, didn't seem too truthful. "I don't have a problem with you being a lesbian."

Clearly, she was uncomfortable talking about it. Still, something was off. You were almost certain Regina had had something to do with Janis leaving. She was probably lying to you.

"You're not going home for dinner then." Better to drop it for now. It wouldn't do either of you any good to push her. "Will your dad be mad?"

"As if he even notices I'm gone," She rolled her eyes, settling more comfortably on the couch. "He's always on the phone."

"I have frozen pizzas we could pop in the oven."

"I'm not eating that processed shit. We're ordering in."

"Reg, I can't order takeout 'til dad sends me more money."

"I'm paying, dummy, don't even worry about it." She pushed off the couch and walked to the kitchen. You trailed after her. "Where are the menus?"

"There should be some in the cabinet over there."

The evening turned to night with you two on the couch, chatting and eating pizza. The TV was turned on eventually. Adult Swim was playing some anime about cowboys in space, but neither of you was really watching.

You'd missed her so much. You didn't like thinking about it much, but that was the truth. You'd missed her for even longer than the two years you'd been officially cut off from her life. She'd started pulling away long before the silent treatment began. You didn't like thinking about how much it had hurt, how you'd felt your world go bleak when she rejected you. You'd never been one for confrontation, that was Regina's job, so talking to her about the why and how of it all had never felt like an option.

You'd eventually gotten the hint. And now, after all this time, after she had left you so easily, you were letting her back in just as easily. As if you were back in that time, sitting in the sandbox peacefully making castles when she came up behind you, pulled at one of your pigtails, and demanded you share your buckets and shovel. You were helpless against her force.

There was probably something deeply unhealthy about your friendship. She was probably only coming back because it was convenient for her. She wasn't interested in making amends- hell, she probably didn't even think there was anything to amend, in the first place.

This had been the way you two had been since forever. Her ploughing through anybody in her way, you clinging to her as she went, just as much of a victim and a perpetrator.

The Regina you missed was the impression of a girl, braces on her teeth, grass stains on her sundress, and laughter on her lips. The Regina that perhaps, maybe, probably was still hidden somewhere in her, but at the same time was just not her. Who she was now, who you were now, were so utterly different from back then.

Watching her face, illuminated blueish by the light from the TV, so much older but still soft and young, framed by naturally blonde hair but bleached a lighter shade, you made your peace. You were probably being way too dramatic about all this, but it felt like a big moment in your half-baked teenage brain. You would take her back every time. You would let her leave every time. You would stay in place while she explored the world, and if she deigned to come back, you'd be waiting.

"Hey, Reg," You said, quiet but not exactly a whisper.

"What?" She looked up at you, just bent over the coffee table grabbing another slice of pizza.

"I missed you." You said, so earnestly it sounded jarring to even your ears.

She scrunched up her nose. "'Cause I bought you pizza?"

"Yeah," You laughed. "That too."

If you hadn't been looking so closely, you might've missed the brief lapse in her armour. It was in the softening at the corners of her eyes, in the slackening of her face, the give in her spine. Something like affection, like she'd missed you too.

"You're a weirdo."

You only laughed more.

The moment passed and you continued eating and talking and watching TV. You must've fallen asleep at some point after Regina went to remove her makeup. Eventually, you couldn't tell when, you woke up to the sun shining through the blinds right into your eyes.

Shit. It was Monday. You pawed around yourself for your phone, flipped it open, and checked the time. Shit, indeed. You nudged Regina with your toe.

"Reg..." She didn't even stir. "Reg!" You pushed harder, causing her to groan and whine.

"What? Five... M're mins..." She mumbled into the cushion, curling up tighter.

"We're late for school, Reggie, c'mon we gotta go." You momentarily contemplated if it was worth even going in. Your dad would be busting a lung at the missed calc class anyway. But did you want to give him more reasons to yell at you? No, not really.

"I gotta go, c'mon." You moved towards her and really shook her.

"What?" She grumped at you. To be honest, it was really cute. She had dust around her eyes, sleep still lingering in her limbs. You'd touched her shoulder, covered by the knit blanket you'd given her last night, but you could feel how warm she was.

"School. It's Monday morning, sleepyhead."

It took no more than that for the reality to set in for her. Cursing up a storm and running around like a headless chicken, Regina tried gathering all her things that'd somehow ended up scattered around the night before. Her perfume was in the alcove by the front, her charger in the kitchen, hairbrush in the bathroom.

"Do you want a ride?" You asked before heading upstairs to change. Couldn't go to school in just Spiderman boxers.

"I have nothing to wear!" She screeched, glaring at you as if you'd caused this. She was the one who wanted to stay the night, jeez.

You held up your hands in surrender. "You can borrow some of my stuff."

"As if you have anything remotely fitting. You dress like a hobo." She said all that while climbing up the stairs past you, heading for your room. "A hobo with a liking to grunge music, nonetheless."

You walked after her, listening but not feeling the need to add anything. Once she got to your door and you went to follow, she whirled around.

"Uh, I'm gonna change." She sassed, though the intimidation was made less effective by the bareness of her face and the messiness of her hair. You smiled and gestured for her to go on.

"Be my guest." As if she needed the invitation.

To her credit, it didn't take long for her to pick something to wear, wash her face, and do her hair. In the meantime, you used the hallway bathroom to freshen up yourself. She stepped out wearing the same white tank top as the night before, over it a short-sleeve button-down in a glossy, satin black, and a black skirt she'd probably found at the very back of your closet. The button-down was neatly cinched around her waist and the skirt discreetly rolled up to be shorter than it really was.

The shirt was probably the nicest thing you owned. Something a relative had gotten you for your birthday. Versace or something like that.

"I'm going to have to go to school in sneakers, jorts." She pointed at you accusingly, leaning over threateningly where you sat on the floor. You looked up at her and just shrugged. What could you do?

She rolled her eyes and waved you away. You took the cue that it was your turn. You didn't bother closing the door behind you. Some wash jeans from the back of your desk seemed clean enough. You sniffed them just in case. Not too funky, but definitely not fresh. They'd have to do. You chucked the hoodie, sprayed on some deodorant, and replaced it with a short-sleeve flannel. You looked into the mirror and checked your hair was okay before grabbing your backpack.

"Okay, let's go." You turned to see Regina staring at you incredulously.

"That's it? That's your morning routine?" Leaning against the doorway, you couldn't help but notice she looked fantastic. It was a real talent of hers, looking so good all the time.

"Usually, I'd eat breakfast." You herded her out of the door. "Do you need to get your things?" She probably didn't have any of her school stuff.

"No, I didn't unpack my purse before coming here." She said, checking said bag as she did. "I'll do my makeup in the car, drive sensibly."

"Psh, as if you need to tell me. You're the speed demon, from what I've heard."

"There's nothing wrong with the way I drive, grandma."

"Until you get your license revoked, speedster."

Needless to say, Regina was not impressed by your 2001 Corolla. And though she complained the whole way to school, she still sat in the front seat, doing her makeup, there was no heat behind her words. You arrived in the middle of the third period. Nobody was out and about, much to Regina's relief. You parted ways with a wiggle of her fingers and a finger salute from you. You sat in the car for a moment, just breathing and thinking.

She didn't say thank you, didn't say she had a good time, didn't even bother pretending she'd enjoyed your company. It seemed like a relief she was finally getting away from you. Was that how she felt?

Now that your friendship had progressed beyond small talk while you worked and pleasantries over dinner, being ignored at school felt a lot more hurtful.

It was sobering, how she could goss and laugh with you on your couch and then act as if being seen with you in public was social suicide.

What made it feel even worse was that it was true. If Regina was seen hanging around you, god knows what the piranhas that were the student body would do. It would end with either or both of you ostracized or worse. Regina could bend minds and shift opinions like it was a superpower, but even she had her limits.

You got out of the car, locked it, and ambled towards Spanish class.

Notes:

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lixzey · 4 months

Text

The Unknown Number

a/n: again guys, please ignore the time stamps!

Your eyes widened as you saw photo. “What the fuck?”

Was it really him? Or was someone else catfishing you? If someone was in fact, catfishing you, they were doing a great job because the photo they had just sent was new. Timothée has never posted a photo like this before. Maybe, it was one of his staff? It had to be, because there was no way in hell that Timothée fucking Chalamet would reply to some random number.

Suddenly, a notification popped up on your phone from instagram.

tchalamet added a post!

tchalamet SNL tonight RUN IT

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Oh fuck, it really was him.

You immediately dialled Hailey's number. You paced around the room as you waited for her answer.

Damn it, Hails, answer my fucking call.

“What's up, bitch?” Hailey's voice rang in your ears, finally picking up after minutes.

“Oh cazzo, Hailey, credo di star parlando con il vero Timothée Chamalet!”

“Wait, what!?” Hailey gasped. “Talk in english for god's sake! You get all squeaky when you get excited, you cunt,”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “Okay, sorry, I got excited!”

“Get to the point, Y/n! Nana wants us to be ready in five minutes for dinner!”

“Okay so,” You giggled, still reeling from what just happened. “The number you sent? I think it's Timothée Chalamet!”

“I understood you the first time, you idiot,” Hailey said, you were sure she rolled her eyes. “What's your proof?” Hailey asked.

“The number I texted sent a photo, which coincidentally, two minutes later Timothée posted the same photo on his instagram account!” You squealed, kicking your feet up in the air.

“Jesus Christ! Send me a screenshot! Omg this is crazy!”

“Yeah, it is! I'll send you a screenshot in a few minutes, I'm gonna text this e number again. You know, to make sure.”

“You better, bitch,” Hailey laughed. “Okay, talk to you later!”

“Later, babes!” You said, before ending the call.

You opened up your iMessage app and started texting Timothée again.

Here you were, stuck in a hotel room, and texting—bullying—Timothée Chalamet.

It was immature, but were literally texting the man you've been worshipping for years.

It was only harmless texting, right? What the hell could possibly go wrong?

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette @ashisabitgay @ladyladybuggg @nyrasunderwrld @remussbitch @jadahxx @starrystormwritings @ell0ra-br3kk3r @dreary-salem @drewsandsebastianswife @greenapplegrass @lilianelena39 @haybellewrites @cloudlst @si4a @ev3ningrain @ttulipwritezz @lilmaymayy @bullets-from-another-dimension @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @reg-arcturus-black @marina468 @3stelar @timhalamet @st4rf00k3r @idli-dosa @jimins15thhair @blacksgarden

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holy-puckslibrary · 3 months

Text

━ 𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬.

main masterlist

pairing(s) — bull-rider!MATTHEW TKACHUK x barrel racer!hughes!reader (can be read as an unnamed oc) wc — 1.8k synopsis — wear the hat, ride the cowboy—even if it might get you disowned.

note — there's one line referring to the reader as jack's twin, but no physical description is given. also, this one-shot is a "party favor" from our feb slumber party

specific content warnings under the cut.

cw — quinn being a dramatic, misogynistic douche-canoe 3000 for the entirety (ratty matty has his moments, too), no actual smut but it's heavily implied they do the dirty on the reg, a disgustingly intimate situationship — ick, off-color comment(s) relating to first times and the concept of virginity, lots and lots of familial angst (jack is a snake), oh! and more than a few loose ends... but you know the drill by now, i'm incapable of keeping a story contained

“Go on, Palomino Princess. Ride me like one of your ponies.”

Condescension drips from the lazy taunt. Matthew earns a palm to the chest for it; her ire lands with a faint thud, but he doesn’t mind. He gets off on riling her up, and after two years of backseat meetings and hushed phone calls, he’s damn good at it too. That, and she might be the most reactive person he’s ever met—and that’s saying something.

Matthew’s been going head-to-head with all three of her brothers for over a decade, and he’s known their family for even longer. Having a short fuse must be genetic.

“Y’won’t break me if that’s the hold-up. S’gonna take a hell of a lot more than a dry humpin’ buckle bunny to put me outta commission, sweetheart.”

He knows damn well she ain’t anywhere close to the derogatory term, but he likes what the complete disregard for her accomplishments does to her deceptively cherubic face.

It may look less harrowing than every other event on the card, but barrel racing ain’t for the faint-hearted. The event is a death wish personified, and it feels about as good as someone taking a metal pipe to both shins. It takes balls—metaphorically, in her case—to charge into an arena on an American Quarter horse with the intention of guiding it through a cloverleaf pattern around three barrels while sprinting at top speed, but it takes dedication and skill to succeed the way she has. The winner is determined by just thousandths of a second.

The woman perched on his tailgate is unmatched—undefeated.

Flames of pride lap at his loins, the fire of desire stoked by the wicked roll of her hips.

“Ohh—shit!” Matthew hisses, his head lolling back as his hips buck into her heat.

She smirks, apparently vindictive as ever. “How’s that, cowboy? Everything you dreamed?”

“And more,” he growls as he grabs a fistful of her backside.

His grip is tighter than it needs to be as he switches positions. Not nearly as rough as she would prefer it; beggars can’t be choosers.

Matthew steps between her knees, and, despite herself, she shivers with anticipation. Chuckling, amusement twinkles in his baby blues. “Now give me a kiss, sweetheart. My lips are feelin’ a little lonely tonight, and you happen to be wearin’ my hat, Little Miss.”

He flicks the brim of his hat. She catches it before it hits the ground before plopping it back on the rightful owner, the damage already done.

“You just love that antiquated rule,” she shakes her head while most definitely laughing at his expense. “Y’wouldn’t see any action without it, now would you?”

Matthew grins. Trading insults is his favorite form of foreplay. “Neither would you. Isn’t that your signature move, outlaw?”

“I should kick you to the back of the line with that attitude. Hell, I’d probably be better off keeping you at a distance anyway.”

“Keep mouthin’ off and see how far it gets ya. Definitely nowhere near that McMansion castle you call home, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, don’t you worry ‘bout me, sugar. I’ve got plenty of options if I need a ride home.”

“I’ll bet, show pony. Sexiest can chaser east of the Mississippi; who wouldn’t be chomping at the bit to carry Cinderella home to her Daddy?”

Men have a habit of gawking at her; Matthew has a habit of relieving them of their teeth.

He leans in to taunt her ear with greedy lips and barbed arrogance. “Best of luck finding one that’ll fuck you better than me.”

“Do you think about other guys fucking me often?” she fires without missing a beat.

More than he would like, actually.

With a heavy, drawn-out sigh, he runs a hand over his face. His patience is running thin, and his jeans are starting to chafe. Exasperated, he tries coaxing her to reason, “Sweetheart, c’mon. We both know you want this—want me. Stop makin’ this so damn hard.”

“Why? Because you already are?”

Matthew makes an exaggerated show of play-biting her scrunched-up nose.

“Woman, you drive me insane.”

“It’s why you’re so obses—“

Her teasing is thwarted by the sound of her own name. Spat out of her older brother’s mouth like a heirloom gone sour, it's no great surprise Quinn looks at her like he can’t recognize her. Like a stranger—like a traitor.

Guilt, thin and fleeting, pieces the tenderness between her ribs.

She squirms, attempting to put some distance between them as if that could erase the discovery—and her culpability—from his mind. Matthew and his shit-eating grin keep her from getting too far but don’t be fooled. This is no chivalrous encouragement to stand her ground. It’s got nothing to do with her and everything to do with her brother.

Quinn rages outside the hauler housing Matthew’s precious 3500 Laramie. Walking by, seeing the main trailer hitched Brady’s F-350 made his stomach churn. It didn’t sit right, and now he knew why.

“You can’t be serious! Nuh-uh, no—no fucking way. Get out here before I drag you out myself.”

At his tone, what little remorse she felt dissipates. They were both far too old for his tired, overbearing song-and-dance.

“Who died and made you king?”

Quinn, blinded by overripe anger, sweeps over the irritation, twisting her tongue and the disbelief arching her brow. “I thought I made myself clear last time. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Oh, crystal, Quinny.” Matthew snorts at the juvenile nickname but is swiftly cajoled into silence with a pinch to the side. “Message received.”

“Then quit screwin’ around and get your ass back to the truck before Dad blows a gasket. He’s been lookin’ all over for you. So, you best be thanking your lucky stars I got here first. That its me catchin’ you red-handed colluding with the enemy.”

He’s so serious, nearly shaking with rage, it’s difficult not to laugh. She can count on one hand the instances wherein her brother became visibly angry—all of them involving the man standing between her dangling feet. She fares better than him, but that’s to be expected. Unlike her accomplice, for her, there’s real risk involved.

“Just ‘cause I heard you don’t mean I have to listen.”

Lips pressed to her temple, Matthew clicks his tongue in approval. ‘Bout damn time she started giving back what Quinn so readily dishes out.

“Look, y’can spread your legs for anyone with big dreams and a buckle some other night. Parade around the circuit acting like a slut, see if I give a shit. But not tonight. And not with him.”

The knowing glint in Quinn’s blackened eyes is telling, but it isn’t as menacing as he thinks it is. The Hughes heir apparent couldn’t be judge, jury, and executioner. He doesn’t have a lick of proof. Just suspicion and a personal vendetta the size of Texas.

A safety net swaying below, Matthew decides to have a little fun. “Whoa, settle down, Trust Fund. Y’can’t talk to a lady like that, ‘specially not your sister.”

He’s no white knight, but he can pretend.

And isn’t that what you’re all doing? Pretending to be people you aren’t. Acting out your roles, putting on a show. After all, a performance will always be more entertaining than the truth.

“—and here I thought etiquette classes were a Rodeo Royalty rite of passage. Glad t’know she ain’t the only roughneck hellion in your family tree, Huggy.”

Quinn’s jaw tightens. His tongue threatens to put a hole through his cheek. Hands on his hips, the eldest sibling only nods. He ignores Matthew entirely.

“Real winner y’got there. A class act. You really know how to pick ‘em—cream of the goddamn crop. Say, what’re you gonna do when he inevitably gets bored of you? When he gets his hands on a fresh doe-eyed virgin to tarnish?”

After she finishes with Matthew, she’s kicking Jack’s sorry ass.

Those anxieties—and that majorly personal tidbit of information—were shared in confidence. Because unlike her older brother, she trusted her twin. Well, she used to, at least. Luke’ll be over the moon at the chance to be her favorite.

She bares her teeth like a scorned lapdog. “We’re not kids anymore, Q. You can’t push me around whenever you want or tell me what to do like you’re my father. And you sure as shit can’t bully me into submission, either. Give it up, or get lost.”

“Whatever,” Quinn barks as he backs away from the trailer. “Your fuckin’ funeral.”

Listening to the fading sound of her brother’s Ariats pounding through the dirt, she buries her face in the warm, familiar crook of Matthew’s neck; she needs a moment alone. He seems to understand this, his mouth zipped shut as he runs calloused hands up and down her sides. She’s breathing heavily, but he does her the simple mercy of leaving it be.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I was growing on you,” Matthew hums, a low-maintenance attempt to lighten the mood.

They don’t do the touchy-feely BS. It’s one of the things that reeled him in—and kept him coming back.

“But you do.” She pulls away to look up at him, chin resting on his sternum. He hates that her melancholic eyes are red-rimmed. “—and stop thinking, it doesn’t suit you.”

“And what does, princess? I’m dyin’ for your insight.”

“Shut the door and I’ll show you.”

He blinks, taken aback. Who is this brazen tart, and when did she take your place? Matthew wonders to himself. Maybe he is the bad influence everyone paints him as… He hasn’t really thought about it until now, and it's troubling the way it makes his chest tighten.

Matthew clears his throat—and, from his mind, the distressing notion that he’s ruined someone good with his carelessness—as he leans over.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He pulls the hauler’s heavy metal door shut with clamorous finality.

Matthew Tkachuk might be the most self-serving swindler on dirt, but Quinn Hughes is just another name on his list. A box to tick and then forget. He wouldn’t lose sleep, it wasn’t like their friendship meant a damn thing. Not anymore. A friend turned foe, reduced to another obstacle in his way, a hurdle to jump.

Tonight, his sister’s fealty; tomorrow, his title.

Retribution is at his fingertips, so close he can taste it. Yet, it would seem that Matthew merely traded one hornet’s nest for another.

At least this one’s easy on the eyes.

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sommerregenjuniluft · 3 months

Text

@jegulus-microfic january 30 - uneven - 983words - cw: nsfw!, spanking, degradation

aka when a haircut gone wrong turns into bending ur husband over the kitchen counter and ****** his ***** until ******* and he ******** *** ***

“It’s uneven.”

“No, it’s not!”

“It’s uneven, James.”

“You– she’s just sitting improperly, her head bent at an angle,” his fiancée replies, in a there you have it way.

Regulus levels him with a flat look, “You’ve cut our daughter bangs and they’re uneven.”

“The hair kept falling into her eyes! It was bothering her,” James’ tone is defensive.

Regulus stares down at the picture on James’ phone, regarding the line of Harrie’s bangs as they fall crookedly over her small forehead, grin as wide and toothy as always, pigtails equally askew. She’s running around in kindergarten like that right now none the wiser.

When he looks up to raise an eyebrow at James this one snatches up his phone and pockets it with a huff, grumbling under his breath.

Behind them the electric kettle clicks, signaling that the water is boiled, so Regulus turns his back to face the shelves in search of a mug and tea bag.

“As if you would’ve done any better.”

An incredulous scoff rips from the back of Regulus’ throat.

It sounds like James is gnashing his teeth when he growls, “What?”

Regulus casually goes about preparing his tea. “Oh, miles, baby.”

James sounds closer when he speaks next, making Regulus shiver, “You’re a brat.”

“Your ego is too big,” Regulus spits back.

“Yeah, well, something’s gotta match the cock.”

There’s a second of still silence where they’re both not moving, disbelieving over if James just actually said that out loud.

Then Regulus head whips around and he fixes the other with a narrow glare. “Excuse me?”

He can see the moment something flips inside James and he decides, wether that be reasoned or not, to just fucking roll with it. “You heard me.”

Regulus feels his face pull into a sneer, “Yes and I’d actually rather impale my eardrums with a toothpick before it happens again.”

Now it’s James’ turn to scoff before he steps closer, “Yeah, like you didn’t moan about it last weekend on date night.”

James cages Regulus against the counter and all he can do is turn his back to him again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Warmth settles over Regulus’ back as James crowds his space, breath hot over the shell of his ear. “Fuck, Jamie,” he whines in imitation of Regulus, “So big, feels so good, ah- yes, yes! Please, harder, ’m gonna—”

Regulus knuckles are turning white against the counter. He’s not sure he’s still breathing.

James nuzzles Regulus’ curls with his nose, hips grazing the swell of his ass, “Begging for it like a slut.”

Regulus gasps sharply, “Merde– shut up.”

Soft lips come down on his neck, spit slick, and Regulus is trembling.

“I love when you’re good for me like that, Reg,” James murmurs breathily, “Don’t you wanna be good for me?”

He punctuates the questions by pressing his crotch directly into Regulus’ ass, the grey sweatpants doing nothing to hide the thick line of him.

A moan tumbles out of him involuntarily.

James gives a pleased hum before he sucks on that same spot on Regulus’ neck, “That’s it, baby.”

Mindlessly, Regulus pushes back, arousal shooting through him when James groans softly.

“C’mon, love, I know just how sweet you can be for me.”

It’s a wonder Regulus manages to shake his head.

“Yeah, you are,” James insists, “Doesn’t always have to be only once I fuck you stupid on my fat cock.”

Regulus grits his teeth, “You’re impossible.”

James sighs displeased, a mournful little thing that makes Regulus’ head dizzy, “Fine, the hard way then.”

In one swift movement he pulls Regulus back by the hips, yanks down his own black sweats and spanks him right across one ass cheek.

Regulus is helpless to do anything but cry out in pleasure, the sting seeping through the flesh and concentrating between his legs, making his cock twitch where it bobs heavy in the air.

“Try again,” James says, voice dangerously neutral and massaging his throbbing cheek.

Regulus bites down on his tongue, then presses out, “You’d be lucky to be considered average.”

A chuckle and then another swing, sharper than the first and the sound of it reverberating off their kitchen tiles.

Regulus whimpers a strangled noise which turns into a downright pitiful whine when James roughly spits on his exposed hole.

“Oh, you like that, huh, baby?” James taunts, hooking a thumb into his rim, breaching for a moment just to retreat again.

Traitorously, his hips push back on the finger.

“Aren’t you greedy?” James comments, “I want you to use your words though.”

“James.”

His husband tzks.

Regulus has to squeeze his eyes shut tightly, chin crinkling, lip wobbling, “Please.”

“Please what?”

Another hit when Regulus doesn’t give an answer fast enough, this on right on the crease of his thigh. More spitting, landing carelessly on the meat of his ass and slowly trickling between his cheeks.

It takes a moment for Regulus to realize the sound in the kitchen is his own whine. “More, please.”

James hums above him, leaning over him to kiss at his neck. “Just a little bit more specific, baby. I know you can do it.” He punctuates the demand by teasingly swiping two fingers through the spit and prodding at his entrance but not slipping them in.

Regulus grits out a harsh pant, thighs starting to tremble. His ass stings like a bitch and his cock is throbbing, hard and neglected and all he can think about is that he wants James’ teeth in the nape of his neck. The overwhelming desire to be good and pliant as he gets utterly annihilated.

“Breed me, Jamie.”

His husband curses, voice strangled, and then he proceeds to fuck him so hard Regulus doesn’t know up from down anymore.

They have to call Effie and Monty to pick Harrie up from kindergarten one and a half hours later.

#this started out as mild bickering and it jsut went downhill SO fast.#idk even what this is tbh #*sigh*#i dont rly like the ending #anywayz #jegulus #jegulus microfic #jegulus dads #james potter #regulus black #starchaser #sunseeker #lune’s tiny fic

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hitmewithsomebooks · 3 months

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@jegulus-microfic Jan 29 - fancy

Cowboy James au 🤠

1012 words 🙈

This will be a multi-part :)

"Now, I demand that—"

"Whoa there, fancy-pants, what seems t’ be the trouble?" James drawled, placing a hand on the fuming man's chest. He was small, slight, with a head of perfect dark curls and silver eyes, and he shot James a withering look.

"This doesn't concern you." The man snapped, eyeing James before returning to the bartender. "I swear to god, if you don't give it right now, I will knock your fucking lights out—"

"Okay, okay." James intervened again, despite the man's dismissal. Or maybe because of it.

"Now, th’rs no need t’ talk t’ mah friend like that."

The smaller man glared at him.

"Your friend just so happens to be my brother. Who has taken away my fucking phone, because he's a dick." The man spat, directing a glare towards Sirius.

"Well, tha’s not very nice." James admonished, giving him a little pout.

"And who exactly are you?" The man asked James, turning to properly face him, an expression of annoyance and disdain on his face. Here, Sirius cut in.

"Regulus, this is James. My friend. James, this is Regulus, my menace of a little brother." Sirius introduced.

"Regulus." James repeated, grinning, and stuck out a hand. "Lovely t’ meet ya."

"Can't say the same for you, given you're so nosy." Regulus sniffed, but shook his hand anyway. James squeezed his hand a little, then let go.

"Well, since ah’m so nosy, ah’m gonna ask why exactly Sirius took your phone. Cuz ah gotta feelin' he might have a good reason." Regulus opened his mouth to protest, but Sirius cut him off.

"He won't stop texting an arsehole who broke his heart and stole his job." James's eyebrows raised.

"Well that just won' do." He frowned, looking down at Regulus. "Why're you still textin' ‘im ?"

Regulus looked, for just a moment, vulnerable. Then, he put his chin up, and a mask with it.

"He has a really big cock." He replied, granting James and Sirius a sharp, self-satisfied grin. Sirius rolled his eyes, and James laughed.

"Good to know whatcha like, sugar." James murmured, and Regulus's eyes widened minutely. Sirius, luckily, had been distracted by another customer, and hadn't heard James's remark.

James had left the bar only a few minutes after they'd met, needing to help out a friend with something. He promised he'd be back later, and Regulus was anticipating it more than he'd like.

"How come you didn't tell me you'd befriended a tall, smooth, hot-as-fuck cowboy??" Regulus asked Sirius, tone incredulous and annoyed.

"Because I knew you'd jump him, and I didn't want him to be your rebound." Sirius answered, giving him a pointed look.

"Oh, please." Regulus scoffed, downing his shot. "That man doesn't seem like he'd be at all phased by a little rebound." Sirius frowned at him.

"He may seem like a confident, smooth-talking cowboy, but he's also quite kind. Considerate. I don't want you breaking him." Sirius answered, and Regulus scowled.

"In case you don't recall, my last relationship ended with me breaking down sobbing in your arms and sleeping on your couch for a month." Regulus said pointedly.

"I do, thank you. But I also remember how you ended it with Will, who was really decent. Bloke texted me for weeks asking why you'd done it like that. You fucked him up, Reg."

"He's fine. His fragile masculinity will survive." Regulus waved it off, playing with his glass. "But come on, Sirius, did you see James?? He's exactly my type. I mean, the curls, the eyes, and, lord, those thighs in tight fucking jeans? Send me straight to hell because I. Want. To. Sin." Regulus groaned, pleading to Sirius.

"No." His brother replied shortly, before going to tend to another customer.

It was only two hours later when James returned to the bar, but now the place was bustling, as it was 8:30. Music was booming throughout the place, full of happily buzzed people dancing around and on one another. Regulus was sat at the bar, glowering at his phone still in Sirius's back pocket. He didn't even care about Barty anymore, he was just bored. Or so he told himself.

"Hey there, fancy-pants." A voice rumbled in his ear, and Regulus startled. Then, he turned, meeting warm hazel eyes.

"Well hello, nosy." Regulus replied, fondly. He was pleasantly tipsy, just on the edge of drunk, his usual wall-like inhibitions lowered. James flashed him a pleased smile.

"Sirius still got your phone?" James asked, glancing at the busy bartender.

"Yes, the cunt." Regulus groused, his tongue also even sharper when he was tipsy.

"Y'know, fer such a pretty thing, y’ve got a filthy mouth." James commented, but it wasn't an admonishment. A wicked smile played his lips as he said it.

"Yeah? Well, what are you going to do about it, Mr. Morality?" Regular sneered, taking another sip of his drink.

"Ah’m gonna ask you to dance, sugar." James replied, and a pleasant shiver went through Regulus's body at the nickname.

"Sorry, but I don't dance." Regulus hummed, partly to make it harder for the man and partly because he really wasn't too confident in his dance moves.

"Mmm, ah think you do. Jus' has to be with the right person." James smirked. Regulus gave him an amused look.

"And you think that's you, do you?" He asked, swirling his drink around his glass.

“Ah think that you really want that phone back, and if y’ dance with me, I’ll get it for you." James rumbled, and Regulus's eyebrows raised.

"Is that so?"

"Yes sir." James grinned, and Regulus shivered again.

"How will you get it?" He asked, wondering how far he could push this man.

"D'you see him? His attention's on nothin' but the customer's drinks. Ah could easily tell him ah’m slippin' out, pat him on the back, and swipe your phone. He prob'ly wouldn't even hear me." James drawled, and Regulus looked at him contemplatively.

"Okay." He sighed, pulling himself away from the bar. "I'll dance with you."

Next part

#james potter #regulus black #jegulus #cowboy james Potter #jegulus microfic #Sirius bartends in America #i couldn’t not do this #posh Regulus black #black brothers #james x regulus #sunseeker #starchaser

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corriganatheart · 1 year

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hiii could u write something about a baecation with jude? it can be a headcanon or a reg imagine whichever you prefer. and idk if you write smut but if you wanna add it in there i won’t complain 🫣

Synopsis: Jude takes you on a vacation for your anniversary.

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem! reader

Genre: romantic, short

Warning: Mention of sexual activity 🔞

"Maybe we should have gone to Thailand," Jude says while scrolling through his phone. You rolled your eyes and continued to read the book in your hand.

It had been one hour since you boarded the private plane, and Jude had been bringing up different destinations that he could've chosen only because he wanted to get laid in every country. During your first vacation as a couple, you guys went to Bali, and for your two-year anniversary, he chose Bali because it meant a lot to both of you. Jude has always wanted to visit different countries because it was his mission to have sex with you everywhere so that if you leave him, your mind will only be filled with him. It was his way of saying you can never escape him without sounding psychotic.

“Baby,” he whispers, sending shivers down your spine. You hate that he still has this effect on you even though you guys have been together for two years. “Let me eat you-“ You close your book and smack his head, causing him to wince. “What is wrong with you?” You hissed. Jude tilts his head back and laughs before wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Do I need to answer that?” He asked and kissed you on the cheeks. You rolled your eyes and decided to lay your head on his shoulder. You felt him smirk through your hair. “Thank you so much for planning this,” you whispered. Jude lays his chin on your head while stroking your arm. “You know I would do anything for you,” he mumbles. You nod your head, knowing damn well he meant every word he said.

You guys still have a while until you reach your destination, and you are doing some work on your laptop while Jude is asleep next to you. His career had skyrocketed after the World Cup, and his schedule was hectic. He took on as much work as possible before taking this vacation, and it almost didn’t happen because he was getting so many business proposals. You had told Jude several times that you didn’t mind just spending it home and having a nice dinner, but he refused and wanted to take you somewhere special.

Staring at the beautiful man next to you, your heart filled with happiness and joy. When Jude first pursued you after you’d been part of a project he was in, you thought the relationship wouldn’t develop any more than a short fling. Football players were known to have brief relationships, and even though he was a perfect gentleman to you, you couldn’t help but be cautious. Jude proved you in many ways, and eventually, you had to give in and admit that he was the one for you; you couldn’t help but chuckle, remembering his smug face when you told him he won. “Huh, maybe Thailand wouldn’t have been a bad idea,” you mumbled after seeing Gio’s girlfriend post her vacation photos.

“You remember the first time we came here, baby?” Jude asked while your eyes scanned the beautiful resort and crystal blue water. “I remember the first time we made love here; gosh, it was amazing.” Your eyes widen at Jude while he smirks down at you. The translator awkwardly looked away while the employees smiled at Jude as if he had just said something angelic. If only they knew how devious he could be.

“Woah,” you said after arriving in your bedroom. It was huge, the size of an apartment. The bed was decorated with flowers and a gift basket with rich wine. The room has a large pool balcony with a perfect beach view, and it also has a dining area. “Jude, this is amazing,” you exclaimed while taking in the scenery. He has taken you on lavish vacations before, but this one has to be one of the best. “All for you, baby,” he whispered in your ear behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You chuckle after feeling something hard touching your skin from the back; he doesn’t want to waste any time. “Jude, we have to shower and get ready for dinner,” you mumbled, although you were rethinking it. “Dinner isn’t till an hour, babe,” he says, and you feel him tug at your waistband. You close your eyes and feel his mouth touch your neck; it is a gentle kiss to remind you that you can say no. Jude was a gentleman; he always has been. “It won’t take long; I’ll be quick,” he promised. You bite your bottom lips because you know damn well his definition of fast isn’t the same as yours. Jude needs more than an hour to be satisfied; he was a giver, not a taker, and it pleases him more than anything else to see you lose your mind because of him. “I’m so thankful for you,” he whispers before kissing your shoulders. “Thankful that you have always been there for me.” Another kiss. “Thankful that you’re patient with me.” Another kiss. “Thankful that you never give up on me.” Another kiss. “Thankful that you give me your heart just as you have mine.” Gosh, you were a goner.

He gently places you on the bed; your clothing is scattered all over the floor with his. The wine and gift basket was somewhere on the floor now, and the only thing touching your back was the pedal of roses. He smiled down at you before going in for a kiss. Jude was perfect in every way, and his performance has always surprised you in every aspect. How he turns a slow emotional kiss into a hot kiss filled with his tongue fighting yours makes you feel so many ways. His mouth remains on yours while his right-hand travels down to your center. Jude promised he’d be quick, but you knew this would take at least an hour and a half. He wanted to take his time with you; he wanted to cherish the girl that he had been in love with since he laid eyes on her. The girl that makes him want to be a better person, the one girl that never seems to fail to make him smile. You were perfect for him, and he wouldn’t want you to forget that in any way. “I love you so much, baby,” he whispers while sliding a finger into you. You gasp when he wraps his lips around a nipple sucking and tucking as if his life depends on it. “Jude,” you whimper while fisting the sheets. “I could never let you go,” he said while sucking on your chest. “You’re forever, my girl.” It was pretty clear how in love you both were, and although you guys were still young, no one would understand how this felt. Jude stared down at you, his eyes darker than before as you fall apart in front of him, screaming his name. He closes his eyes and smiles, cherishing the way his name spills out of your mouth; he could listen to it all day.

After catching your breath, you sit and reach for him, but Jude grabs your hand midway. You frown, but he smiles and places your palm on his chest. “You feel that, Y/N?” He asked. You nod; your heartbeat matches his rapid one. “This is what you do to me,” he says. “It’s just you, baby; only you can do this.” The both of you smile at one another, and he lets you lean in and kiss him. He drops your hand and pushes you back down on the bed. “Jude, I want to,” you whined while grabbing his shaft. He shakes his head slightly and pins your hands above your head. “We have all the time in the world for that. Right now, I need to feel you,” he says with pleading eyes. You nod and look at his suitcase sitting near the bed. Jude’s eyes follow yours, and he bites his lower lips before looking back at you with hesitation, "I need to feel you…without a rubber,” he says. You panicked a little at that because you knew the risk. You guys had raw sex before but stopped after a pregnancy scare that almost caused a breakup. “Baby,” he pleads. Jude must have noticed the fear in your eyes because he sat up and pulled you up with him. “Look at me, love,” he said softly while one hand rubbed the side of your face. You look at him, and he smiles; gosh, it is a charming smile. “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s me and you, Y/N. There is nothing to worry about. I want you with no barrier, and I know the consequences, but I wouldn’t want to do that with anyone else. I am always ready for anything with you. I love you, and it’s ok if you don’t want to but know that whatever happens, I am here.” You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, looking up at his face. “I love you so much, Jude, and I want you with nothing between us.”

This time, everything was better. There was no fear, and there was no alcohol in either of your systems. He pushed in without hesitation and let out a relieved sigh like he had wanted this for so long, and you were the same. There was nothing between you guys, and this was how it was supposed to be. Jude smiled down at you and kissed you softly. “You’re my everything.”

“Huh, Trent said he’s going to block me until I come back from vacation,” Jude chuckles while he types on his phone. “Why?” You asked while taking another sip of the rich wine. As you expected, Jude took his time with you and refused to get out of bed because he wanted to go for another round, so an hour later, you guys are having late dinner while watching the sunset on the other balcony. “He’s jealous. That’s what he gets for dumping his girlfriend.” You laugh, knowing damn well Trent will get another one in a couple of days. “Gio seems to be having fun in Thailand,” you said after seeing a photo he posted of him and his girlfriend. “Yeah, next time we are going there,” Jude says and sends a wink your way. You chuckle and shake your head before checking your DMS. Your eyes nearly pop out when a familiar name appears in the inbox. “What?” Jude asked after noticing the surprised look on your face. “Look who texted me,” you laughed and showed Jude the message. Jude’s jaw tenses, and he glares at your screen like he can murder the other person through it. “Why the fuck is that asshole texting you?” He asked angrily, but you know he wasn’t accusing you of anything; he was questioning the person's intention. “Chill, he probably wants me in one of his projects,” you shrugged. Jude frowns and chugs his glass of wine down. “Only you’re allowed to work with me,” Jude says. You roll your eyes and stare at the message; it is a simple hi and how are you? But knowing the person, you don’t think he wants any trouble with Jude. You close your phone and kiss a frowning Jude on the cheeks. “Come on; you know Pedri isn’t like that.” Jude’s lip twitched, and you giggled, “and besides, I prefer brown boys.”

The next day was filled with activities, from swimming to sailing on the yacht, but you guys had to go back to the hotel early because people were starting to recognize Jude. “Sorry, babe, but I promise I have a surprise for dinner,” Jude says and kisses your pouting lips. “Sometimes people forget that you’re human,” you whined. They didn’t even let Jude get in the car without pushing him and screaming for an autograph. It took at least thirty minutess for security to escort Jude safely to the car. “That’s the price I gotta pay, I guess,” Jude casually shrugged. You sigh and slump down on the sofa. You love his fans, but sometimes, it does it overwhelming. “Don’t stress about it, babe. I’m fine,” Jude says and lays his head on your lap. You smile and trace your finger along his jawline. “How come you get to win the genetic lottery? It’s not fair.” Jude laughs and grabs your hand before kissing the front of it. “And I thought my best accomplishment was winning you.”

You hold on to Jude’s hands as you guys climb the stairs to the roof. When he said you guys were going out for dinner, you thought a fancy restaurant, but apparently, the hotel staff set up a table on top of the roof. Your eyes glimmers when he opens the door to the roof. Rose petals are scattered everywhere on the floor while roses were lined up to create a path to the table. “Oh, Jude,” you said as you took in the beautiful picture. “This is amazing.” He guides you to the table and pull the seat out for you. The food was already here, but it was still warm, meaning the staff had finished preparing everything. “This is beautiful,” you said, looking at him and the view behind him. The sun was setting, and the beach reflected the sunset. “I had to make everything perfect,” he says. “Because it’s you.” You smile and place your hand on top of his. “Thank you for everything, baby.”

You guys ate, talked about Jude’s soccer future, talked about your job, and the future that you guys want. By the time you guys were done, it was dark, but there were lights lined up around the edge of the roof, and you knew Jude had come up with all these ideas. “Wanna dance?” Jude asked while holding out a hand. You smiled and grabbed it. Jude guides you guys away from the table, and suddenly, your guy's the song comes on. “This means so much to me. Thank you, Jude,” you smiled. He kisses your forehead, and you slowly dance to the song that holds a special place for both of you. “You know when I first asked you out on a date, I thought you hated me because you didn’t even look like you wanted to say yes,” Jude chuckles. You cringed at the memory, remembering how you I thought he was a total player. “But then you said yes after my constant pestering, and I thought I can’t fuck this up,” he says, making you smile. “After the date, I realized I needed you in my life. You were still questioning my intentions, of course, but I didn’t care; I was willing to take whatever you were willing to give me. Gosh, the months that we were just friends were draining because I had to hold myself back from flirting with you, touching you, reaching for you…but then I realized I needed to make a move before you became comfortable with us just being friends. I risked everything by kissing you even though I wasn’t sure how you felt about me. When you kissed me back, I realized one thing, I wanted you for the rest of my life.”

The song ended, and Jude pulled away. “I have another surprise for you,” he says. Another one? Jude wrapped his arm around your shoulder and turned, and in a second, The fireworks went off. “Omg, Jude!” You exclaimed while clapping your hands. Jude chuckles beside you, and you guys watch the magical firework. You were so mesmerized by the fireworks that you didn’t realize Jude’s arm had dropped from your shoulders. The next firework was brighter than the others and stayed up there longer. Your eyes widened, and your breathing tightened when you saw the words written on it. “Jude,” you mumbled and turned to him only to look down and see him on his knees with a ring in his hand. “Will you marry me, Y/N?” He asked.

Epilogue

One week later

“Bruh, I can’t believe you did that,” Gavi slaps Pedri on the back while laughing.

Pedri groans and wants to take back a whole week of his life. Who let him drink with his asshole teammates that forced him to message his crush? It was humiliating because you left him on seen. “I hate all of you,” he said.

“Relax she has a boyfriend that’s why she left you on seen,” Gavi said. His effort of trying to cheer him up wasn’t doing much, especially with the teasing and laughing.

“Fiancé now,” Pedri corrected and shows Gavi the photo you took on a rooftop flaunting a diamond ring with Jude kissing your cheek.

You’re his crush, but he would never hit you up because he knows you’re dating Jude Bellingham, but his friends thought it would be funny. He was also drunk, and out of it, so he hit you up without thinking.

“That’s harsh, dude,” Gavi says while staring at his friend’s slightly heartbroken face. Pedri shrugged and grinned at Gavi, “yeah, coming from the guy that got a marriage proposal letter from Spain’s princess.” Gavi makes a disgusted face and shook his head. “Never happening.”

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x reader #soccer #footballer imagine #england nt imagine #judebellingham #fifa world cup #bellingham

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littlereaderxfandoms · 3 months

Text

Weekend Gone Wrong

caregiver!hotch x caregiver!spencer x caregiver!derek x little!fem!reader + little friends

Summary: This weekend has been in the making for two weeks. Two weeks of no regression and constant stress. Hopefully, nothing goes wrong.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort (?)

Length: 3.1k words

You shut your laptop with a sigh, exhausted, when you see a text from Derek that they were leaving the office. The last two weeks have been bad for you mentally, physically and emotionally. The guys haven’t had a chance to be home in the last almost three weeks due to back-to-back cases, you found out that your parents couldn’t pay for your university anymore because of which you have picked up more shifts and started another job while the guys were working and one of the courses you are taking this semester is kicking your butt. With the whirlwind that it has been over the last few weeks, you and the guys had decided to have this weekend off for everyone so all of you can catch up, relax and especially indulge in some much-needed little-caregiver time.

You were really looking forward to this and couldn’t wait for the guys to get home. Unfortunately, you still did have a little bit of waiting to do as they drove home. You decide to heat up the food you made for everyone, having had decided to wait for them to eat dinner together. Although, you didn’t think it would be past midnight by the time they got home. You didn’t mind though, since you hadn’t really realized the time anyway as you worked on some assignments. You also got yourself a glass of water, knowing the guys would inquire about water and food and quite frankly, you had not done a very good job in either department about looking after yourself.

You can’t help but smile as soon as you hear the door open, resisting your urge to run to them and jumping up and down like a kid in a candy store. But even if you did it, it was justified because this was better than a whole candy store. Okay, maybe not a whole candy store but definitely a trip to the candy store.

“Hey, princess.” Derek grinned as he pulled you into a hug after dropping his bag by the door, but you could see how tired he was as you hugged him.

“Darling…” Aaron pulled you out from Derek’s arms and into his, squeezing you tight before you pulled away and hugged Spencer, knowing he wouldn’t have spoken up.

“How was the trip back home? I have dinner heated up, we can eat and talk?” You say, turning around in Spencer’s arms.

“You,” Spencer kisses your cheek as Derek and Aaron smile at you before starting to move to the kitchen, “are the most amazing, beautiful, and caring girlfriend ever. I can’t believe we got this lucky.”

You giggle as you pull away from him, pulling him to the kitchen where the other two are already setting up and getting the food plated. “You’re only saying that because I’m feeding you.”

“Never!” All three chirp in, making everyone laugh.

Everyone stands around the kitchen counter, eating your home-cooked lasagna as you talked about anything and everything with each other, forgetting how tiring the last few weeks had been.

Well, that is until Derek’s phone rings, breaking the trance. Derek goes out to answer it, letting the three of you be.

“Hey guys,” Derek comes in, looking a little serious as he came back in after a few minutes, “it was Ace.”

You can see everyone turning serious at that, including yourself. Ace is one of the littles in your local community as somewhat of a friend. He is in a relationship with a caregiver, Jason, and another little, Jenny. The four of you have never liked Jason and have warned Ace and Jenny about the same but the two of them said that they loved Jason and were not willing to discuss it with any of you. That had drawn a drift between the friendship but you had made it clear that if they ever needed any of you, you were just a call away.

“What happened?” Aaron is the first to ask.

“Apparently, things have been going bad and they need to get out. Jenny is involuntarily regressing and Ace has been struggling. They need a place for a few days.”

“They are more than welcome here, they know that,” Spencer says, making Aaron nod in agreement.

“I just wanted to ask everyone if they are okay with this before I tell them that they can come over,” Derek said, looking at you for final approval.

“Of course, they can stay with us! They are our friends!” You speak up, not really thinking about what it would mean for the weekend you had planned.

A few hours later, a regressed Jenny was sleeping on your couch while Ace, you, and the guys went over how to best help the two. It was decided that it would be a regressed weekend for all three of us as Ace had been struggling a lot too.

You were none too happy about it as it meant that you would basically be having a little sleepover, something you have never done before.

After figuring out where everyone would be sleeping, Ace and you were sent to bed while the guys cleaned up and put Jenny to bed. You tried to wait up a little to see if one of the guys would come with you to kiss you goodnight but only got hugs and a nudge to get to bed, just like Ace. Thankfully, the exhaustion from your long shifts at your jobs helped put you to sleep almost immediately, reminding you that you needed to tell the guys that you had gotten a second job at some point.

The next morning was… horrible to say the least. You woke up with a migraine, probably a result of your lack of self-care over the last few weeks. Jenny seemed to be in baby space and kept crying loudly unless one of your caregivers was holding her. Ace was… like a way too energetic toddler, to put it nicely as he threw tantrum after tantrum, broke a bowl because it wasn’t the one he chose as it was your favorite, and wouldn’t eat anything the guys made until after they had made it.

All you wanted to do was stay in bed after realizing what the situation was downstairs. Unfortunately for you, the guys never allowed you to stay in bed past nine without a good reason. And with how annoyed, tired, and frustrated they were, you almost felt bad for Derek as he came into your room and almost yelled at you to get out of bed, not waiting to hear what you had to say as he was called back downstairs.

This weekend was supposed to be peaceful and relaxing for everyone and so far, it had been anything but. And it didn’t get any better as the day progressed. The guys were preoccupied with Ace and Jenny while you kept to yourself, studying in your room, after getting an unfair timeout because you didn’t want to give Ace your favorite stuffed bear after the way he had been so playing badly with your other toys. Yeah, being little was out of the question after that.

You knew that the guys were trying their best here and that Ace and Jenny deserved this regression time as much as you if not more but you couldn’t help but feel hurt and neglected. You were trying your best to be nice and welcoming but it was hard for you too and it felt like that wasn’t being acknowledged either. After the disastrous day, you hoped that tomorrow would be better as the guys came into the room to kiss you goodnight and read you a bedtime story with an apology about not being able to spend enough time with you like you had been planning.

“Plans don’t always work out. It’s okay.” You shrugged with a smile.

“You are way too understanding princess.” Aaron kissed your forehead again.

“Did you get any little relaxation time at all today?” Derek asked, making you shrug again, not wanting to make them feel bad.

“Had a lot of studying to do.” You bury your face in Aaron’s chest so you don’t have to look at them. “But I’m tired now. I’m sure you guys are too. Sleep?”

The guys murmured their agreement as the four of you went to bed for the night, Derek and Spencer giving you a few more kisses before letting you get to sleep with Aaron.

The next day did not turn out good either. You were out of groceries and the guys had decided that everyone would go to the supermarket together when you offered to be big and go get them. Clearly, they didn’t like the idea even remotely. But the disaster at the supermarket definitely made them regret their decision.

Ace was running around constantly while Jenny insisted that she wanted to be holding hands with two of the guys. You were doing pretty good and you could see how grateful the guys were for it as you helped them without a ruckus. However, the manager, who was also your manager after you started working there a couple weeks ago recognized you and was all too happy to chat with you, making the guys shoot you questioning looks. Then, as you used the employee discount during checkout, Aaron finally spoke up about it.

“Since when do you work here?” Aaron asked as he put the groceries in the bag while the others got ice cream from the truck outside. “You didn’t tell us you changed your job.”

“Um… yeah… We really need to talk ab-“ You were cut off when you heard a commotion outside, seeing Derek and Spencer trying to get Ace and a crying Jenny away from Jason.

“Shit.” Aaron quickly picked up the bags before starting to make his way out after making sure that you followed him.

Everyone quickly piled up in the car, getting on our way back home. The guys checked on Ace and Jenny before everyone fell silent. After sorting out the groceries at home, Ace, Jenny, and the guys talked in their office while I cooked dinner for everyone, wanting to get a distraction.

As everyone settled down for dinner, it was announced that Ace and Jenny were going to move in with Jenny’s parents for now and that it was their last night there. You also realized that the day was coming to an end… along with the weekend. Tomorrow, you would be getting back to work and classes while the guys would be going back to work too.

While you were glad to have been there for your friends, it hurt that the chance you had gotten to relax after weeks of loneliness and stress was gone, just like that. And that night, as the others decided to have a movie night per Jenny’s request, you left and cried yourself to sleep.

Waking up to an empty bed the next day didn’t help how you felt about the weekend as you got ready to leave for work, catching a glimpse of the others asleep in the living room as you left.

The next few days were a blur of you barely being home and the guys hounding you to try and talk to you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk to them but you just didn’t have time anymore. You were quite literally spending the nights at the library as you stressed over the approaching midterms, you weren’t looking after your health, you were managing events for three different societies on campus and everything was just too much. It felt like there wasn’t enough time in the day to get everything done.

You weren't sure if it was a good thing that whenever you were home, the guys weren’t. You were somewhat grateful, not wanting to confront them. But at the same time, you were feeling lonely and guilty for not being there for the guys.

It wasn’t long before the guys put there foot down.

As you entered the home on Friday evening, if the chatter was anything to go by, you could tell they were all home. At 2 pm. Mhm-mhm. This was not good.

“In here!” You heard Derek yell out, making it certain that there was no running away from this.

You take your time, putting your things away before going to the kitchen where the guys were standing around the counter, snacking on some chips and popcorn.

“Hey darling.” Aaron gave you a side hug, kissing your forehead. “We need to talk.”

“Let me give her a hug first!” Derek exclaimed before coming to you and pulling you into a bear hug, making your eyes water. You didn’t realize how touch starved you were until now. You hugged him back tighter, trying to keep your tears at bay.

“Oh baby.” Derek hugs you tighter when he feels your tears wetting his shirt as you bury your face in his chest.

“Is she okay?” You hear Spencer whisper, before you pull away and nod, going to stand by him and giving him a side hug.

“I’m okay, just tired. And missed you guys.” You mumble as Spencer pulls you into a proper hug.

“Turn her around Spence.” You hear Aaron instruct Spencer as he turns you around in his arms while still hugging you from behind.

“Before we start this discussion, we need you to know that we love you and this is not about us breaking up with you so don’t even let your brain go there.” Aaron gave you a look, knowing you would go to the worst-case scenario first. You nodded before speaking up, “I love you guys.”

Spencer kissed you head while Derek and Aaron gave you a smile.

“Honey, you have been pushing us away lately.” Aaron started with a sad smile.

“And you are almost never home.” Derek adds pointedly.

“Yeah… about that… I kind of took up a second job…” You cringe a little as they give you a look.

“And you are telling us that now? When did you start?” Derek asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Why did you even get another job to begin with?” Spencer asks and you can hear the confusion in his voice.

You sigh as you start to explain. “My parents won’t be paying for my university anymore. They have given me access to the loan but I want to try and not use much from it.”

“You should have told us princess.” Aaron looks at you with a softened expression.

“You know we can help right?” Spencer speaks up.

“We earn more than we need anyway. We can help you pay for university.” Derek adds.

“But I don’t want you to do that. You guys already let me live here rent free.” You protest.

“I own the house, of course I’m not going to let you pay rent.” Derek shakes his head.

“Yeah but still! I don’t want to make you pay for my university too!” You protest.

“Because you feel like you owe us?” Aaron asks softly, making you look down. You don’t want to hurt them but if something were to happen in the future, you didn’t want to feel like you owed them. And university wasn’t cheap.

“What if you earn it?” Spencer asks.

“What do you mean?” You tilt you head back to look up before Spencer pulls away and turns to around again so you can look at him easily.

“Well, you look after the house when we aren’t home which takes away the burden of getting a house sitter. You keep everything clean while we are gone too and help us with chores during other times. This way, we will be paying for the chores and house sitting you are doing for us.” Spencer explains while everyone listens intently, Aaron and Derek nodding along.

“That’s actually a good idea. We can even come up with a pay rate for it. And if we come back from somewhere and the house isn’t clean, then we can deduct from that pay.” Derek adds.

“I agree. Does that sound fair to you darling?” Aaron speaks up as you lean on the counter, biting your lip as you contemplate.

“I mean… yeah I guess that sounds fair. But I still don’t love it.” You bite your lip nervously before Spencer pulls it out, kissing you cheek softly.

“You can still keep doing one of your jobs. We just don’t want you to overwork yourself sweetheart.” Aaron gives you a soft smile, making you smile at them.

“Gosh, how did I get so lucky with you guys.” You think out loud.

“I think it might have a lot to do with your word vomit during your field trip at the bureau.” Spencer teases, making you blush as you are reminded of the first time you met.

“Okay, now that that is cleared up, you need to regress.” Derek says with a somewhat stern look.

“I need to email my manager and hand in my two week notice first. And I have a meeting with my drama society execs tonight. So… I don’t think today is a good idea.” You explain.

“Well, get the email to your manager done. After that, you are eating a snack and then taking a nap before your meeting.” Aaron directs you, making you smile at the instructions.

“After that, the rest of the weekend is ours and you are not getting out of regression this weekend. And we are also making you a regression schedule so you have scheduled relaxation times.” Derek adds.

“We will try to be there as much as we can, but if we aren’t then we will constantly be checking in over call.” Aaron says, leaning forward on the counter.

“We also need to apologize.” Spencer interrupts. “Last weekend, it was supposed to be our weekend. You were amazing through out the weekend even though we seemed to have neglected to look after you the way we had planned.”

“Spencer is right. We should have been more attentive towards you last weekend.” Aaron adds, nodding. “We are sorry honey.”

“Yeah, babygirl. We should have done a lot better. Forgive us?” Derek gives you a soft smile.

“Hmm…” You act like you are thinking. “Only if I get to stay up tonight.”

“Nope. You can have an extra scoop of ice cream but bed time isn’t budging.” Spencer said right away while Aaron and Derek nodded in agreement.

“Okay fine.” You pouted playfully but giggled as Aaron attacked you with tickles, trying to run away as Derek tried to save you and Spencer joined Aaron in trying to tickle you.

The rest of your night was the best one all week. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#criminal minds x y/n #little!reader x caregiver!spencer reid #little!reader #little reader #caregiver!hotch x little!reader #criminal minds x little reader #little!reader x caregiver!derek morgan #little!reader x caregiver!hotch #criminal minds agere #criminal minds

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allyeardepression · 12 days

Text

@jegulus-microfic | april 16 embarrass | words: 1,3k

this one is a lighter version of what happened to me during easter lol enjoy;3

tw: blood, hospital, stitches, needles, accident

part two

Regulus went out with Barty and Evan—nothing new.

They drank—also nothing new.

The fact that Regulus had forgotten how to ride a bike, however, was new.

Everyone always says you can’t forget how to ride a bike, and maybe it’s true, but when you do it for the first time in almost two years while drunk, it turns out to be quite hard.

The first few minutes were okay; he was a bit wobbly, but he managed to ride on his own. The problem started as they passed the old shrine. It was placed on a sharp turn, and Regulus, instead of turning left as he should, started turning right. He could see the bike hitting the curb and the pavement getting closer and closer with every passing second. Alright, he thought, I’m going to hit it. He didn’t even try to pull out his hands to cushion the fall; he just flew like a log on his face.

Regulus lay there for a few seconds, hearing his friends laughing behind him, and then started laughing himself. He stood up, dusted off his trousers, and touched his chin. There was a hole in it; Regulus could feel it.

“Hey, does it look bad?” He turned to face his friends, and that’s when he felt a thick liquid rolling down his neck.

“Reg, that looks fucking awful; we’re going to the hospital,” Evan said firmly, taking Regulus’ hand and leading him to sit a bit further from the road.

“Show me,” he said, laughing lightly, because what else has he left?

Barty snorted, taking his phone out and, a second later, blinding Regulus with its flash. When he saw the photo, he just started laughing harder.

“Oh fuck, I look so bad; we should call Pandora,” he choked out, trying to keep the wound closed (he didn’t manage it).

A few minutes later, Panda’s old peugeot stopped next to them. The girl grabbed his face and started cleaning it with wet wipes, mumbling how irresponsible Regulus is.

“Hold it,” she commended sternly. “You had one job, one, and still failed at it,” Pandora turned to address all three giggling boys. “Take his bike; I’ll text when we’re at the hospital.”

***

“Regulus, I swear to god, if you don’t shut up, I will—oh, thank fuck, take him away from me, please,” Pandora said to someone behind him. As Regulus turned around, he felt cured right then and there, because in front of him stood the most beautiful man he’s ever seen, with his messy curls, golden skin, and that stunning smile.

The man chuckled, and that’s when Regulus realised his jaw had gone slack.

“Are you Regulus?” the man asked.

“Are you God?” Reg replied before he could stop himself. Mr. Beautiful started straight out laughing at that.

“Well, I’m your doctor, so kinda? I guess?” The doctor answered, inviting Regulus to the treatment room. “What happened?”

Regulus considered all of his options: tell the truth and sound like an alcoholic who gets himself into accidents, or come up with some lie.

Because he didn’t feel like he could come up with a good one, Regulus chose the first option.

“Oh, I’m going to embarrass myself as fuck,” he giggled, while the doctor, whose name he couldn’t quite read from the name tag on his scrubs, started cleaning the wound. “Wait, can you—can you stop moving for a second?” The doctor did what he was asked to do. Regulus reached for the little piece of plastic attached to the pocket on the doctor's chest and finally got what he wanted. Letting go of the man’s clothing, Regulus continued, “So, James, did your parents teach you how to ride a bike?”

The doctor, James, snorted, “Yes, Regulus, they taught me how to ride a bike; why?”

“Well, I thought mine did too, but today I realised they did a shitty job at it.” James erupted into laughter, taking a step back from Regulus. “What? I mean it! Look, if they taught me better, I probably wouldn’t be here!”

“That, or if you drank a little less,” the taller man huffed, coming back closer to Regulus. He knew the doctor was right, but he still felt the need to roll his eyes.

After a few minutes, James told him it looked really bad and they would need to stitch him up.

“If you're afraid I'll disfigure your face for the rest of your life, I can call someone else,” Regulus heard, and he responded with a dismissive hand gesture.

“Stitch away; I don’t mind. Besides, scares are kinda badass,” another round of chuckles.

“Alright, just don’t make me laugh while I do it, or you really will look bad when I’m done.”

Regulus could hear some metal things clicking against each other and could feel the fear creeping up his neck. He started scraping the nail polish off his nails, waiting for the worst. James must’ve noticed somehow, because he asked if Regulus felt alright.

One moment Regulus was staring at the overhead lamp, and the next there was a blue cloth covering his face.

“What the fuck?” he grumbled, grabbing at it. “Take it off; I can’t see shit.”

He could hear James sighing, and then his face came back into view. Regulus couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“If you weren’t so funny, I would put them all on you,” the other man muttered, throwing away the blue thing. “Okay, since you’re under the influence, I can’t administer local anaesthesia, but you have enough piercings to know the feeling.”

“Yeah, and I certainly do not do them for the feeling,” he mumbled, putting his hands underneath his buttocks.

James grabbed a needle with medical thread already pulled through it. He lowered himself closer to Regulus’ face and looked up into his eyes.

“Ready?”

“I will never be, so just go. Please,” was all Regulus could choke out while looking into those deep hazel eyes that crinkled at the response, probably from the smile hidden under the mask.

James looked back down at Reg’s chin and placed the needle in the wound area. As it went in and out, creating the first stitch, Regulus could feel a tear rolling down his temple.

“You okay?” James asked, looking into his eyes again. This time, only a whimper came out of Regulus. “Don’t worry, just one more,” the doctor said in a soothing tone, his eyes softening.

The second time was the same yet worse—Regulus wanted to run as he felt the needle just near his face.

After that, James cleaned him up again and gave him instructions on how to treat the wound.

“See you in two weeks; I’ll take them off,” he said, handing the discharge from the hospital to Regulus.

I’m drunk, Reg thought to himself. If it goes south, I can blame it on the vodka.

“Why not in two days?” he said out loud.

James looked at him, puzzled. “Excuse me?”

Regulus cleared his throat. “Why wait two weeks when we can see each other sooner?”

“I can’t take the stitches sooner then—"

“Not to take off the stitches, doctor,” he said, smirking slightly.

James eyes went wide. For a moment that felt like hours, they sat in silence, just looking at each other, waiting.

When the silence stretched out a bit more, Regulus decided to abort the mission.

“You know what? I’m drunk; I should just—"

“Does Tuesday at 8:00 sound good?” James said at the same time. It took Regulus a few seconds to register what he just heard, but when it finally got to him, he positively beamed at James.

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Yes, that sounds lovely.”

#jegulus #dead gay wizards #starchaser #sunseeker #james potter #james x regulus #regulus black #jegulus microfic #marauders #the marauders #doctor!james #drunk regulus #modern au #by: allyeardepression #1k words or more

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sakuraryomen01 · 6 months

Text

Valentino /Sukuna Ryomen x Reader/ .o9

warnings: asshole sukuna, college prep. school (aka bitch u at an expensive ass school), former friends to lovers, slow burned love, yuji is sukuna's little brother, Gojo getting a drink of water and healing up his cheek, soft! sukuna, fairly fluffy morning with sukuna and gojo, gaming with geto, a new pov!

reader: female reader; 23 years of age, college prep.

plot: It's been years since you've moved from country life, since you've forgotten about all the things you used to love about your hometown and where you grew up from... you didn't think it'd chase you to college in the city after almost a decade..

words: 4.256k

fanfic masterlist: .o1 .o2 .o3 .o4 .o5 .o6 .o7 .o8 .o9 .10 .11 .12 .13 .14 .15 .16 .17 .18 .19 .20

a/n:: not only am I starting to cook something up in my lil pea brain, i am making more fanfictions on wattpad as well! i don't know if i've let y'all know that yet but i felt i needed to tell you! there's going to be some only-wattpad reads on there (unless taken down ofc) that are hopefully gonna be good!

. . .

Thank you for reading this! Enjoy!

. . .

At first, Gojo thought that the night had started pretty decently.

He got a few new numbers at a party with Geto, aka his best friend, and a quick blow job from a lil blonde in the bathroom. He can’t exactly recall where the loo was since he was just a smidge drunk. Normally, his head would be throbbing from the alcohol within a few minutes, but it was just a light buzz. Either way, the end of the night didn’t turn out that way sadly.

He had waddled on home after Geto dropped him off at the male’s dormitory to go park, his bunned up hair and silver rings flashing in the lamplight of a pole before he spun off to the student’s designated parking lot.

Gojo had started walking back, fumbling with his keys and phone. A drunken smile on his face while he hiccuped and a coo eliciting his throat, although he looked up and saw a very sexy silhouette walking his way from his base of origin. Quickly though, he saw that it was just you, a very flustered little mess walking from the building in your casual attire. Adorable.

Messing with you was like Gojo’s favorite pastime.

He stumbled over as best he could towards you, seeing just over his shifted sunglasses with the smallest of smiles on your face. But, it disappeared and changed into a concerned gasp. Gojo felt a soft hand on his forehead, though was somewhat shocked that you had the potential to reach such a height. Though he was leaning forward, sloppy and dirty this Satoru was.

He heard you speak, but the first half was blurred. You had asked him a question out of concern. “..Are you high, drunk, or sick?”

“My girl, you're judgy so muchy~ Let me live without demands!” Gojo said in a very matter of faculty way, at least that’s what he thought. Although, he was more curious as to why you were at the male’s dorm. It wasn’t a tutoring night, was it? Oh?

Maybe something else was happening? Hm? Sounds exciting and gossip worthy.

Sadly, there was very little to offer as you fixed him up before patting his shoulder and parting ways. Well, at least that’s how it was going until a pink haired blurr rushed over and there was a loud crack sound. There was also a thump sound, but Gojo’s eyes had already closed and a groan was leaving him before everything went black.

⇦ 🃍 🃎 ⇨

“You’re kidding me, right? You had to knock his ass out?”

What..?? Who?

“He was kissing your cheek, what was I supposed to do?!”

Oh, so like a pervert? Huh, I wonder who that is..

“It’s Satoru Gojo, he’s not that big a pervert, idiot! Honestly, now he’s going to have a sore jaw or something worse!”

Gojo’s hearing was definitely coming back, there was no ringing anymore. That’s a win. And there’s two people fighting over him, one of them was a girl– he could tell. Also win. The other was a guy. Still a win, but it depends on how he looks. Either way, Gojo’s eyes slowly began to open and the light of the tv was starting to register for him. The room he was in was a living room, with a blanket poorly draped over his middle and left leg.

It wasn’t that big a deal though, seeing as he was tall as fuck and not many blankets covered him now.

“..Mghh..” He grumbles, pressing his brows together and lifting a sore hand up to his cheek. Feeling the damage, there was just a sore ache and a bump. But thankfully, whoever found him gave him an ice pack for the swelling. “Wha’s goin’ on?”

“Oh he’s awake?” A man’s voice rings through Gojo’s ears and there’s a sudden twinge of annoyance with it. “Finally. He’s stinking up my couch.”

“You’ve gotten really dramatic,” A woman’s voice spoke back, a sigh of annoyance before stepping over to check on the currently disgruntled Gojo.

Gojo’s eyes managed to adjust to the light and landed on you, smiling and reaching up to pat your thigh. “Oh, so you are the one fighting with some guy over me. I’m touched.”

You chuckle at this before removing the ice pack, checking his jaw and cheek before returning it to its spot. Looking over at the man at the kitchen counter, Gojo recognized the pink fluffy hair and sat up. Seeing a very ruffled freshman with drooping eyelids and resting his cheek on the palm of his hand. Eyes glued to Gojo and you being close with a slight annoyance on his face.

I mean, of course he would. You’d be mad if you knocked someone’s lights out and they were moved into your living room to recover.

“So, can he go now?” Sukuna muttered, pressing his brows together and letting out another sigh of annoyance. Clearly Sukuna didn’t like having other guys over. It’s giving, no friends?

“Just relax,” You said, giving Gojo’s head a pat and huffing. “He’s not that bad of a stay.”

A dark look crossed the pink haired punk's face at the mention of Gojo, but it quickly faded as he made his way over to the kitchen’s fridge. He pulled out what seemed to be either a beer or a soda can and cracked it open, taking a sip and walking over. Letting his free black nail painted hand sit comfortable on his hip, looking down at the situation with a disapproving glare.

Gojo chuckled weakly at this and sighs, rubbing his jaw and returning the glare. “What~ Don’t trust me?”

“Not really,“ Sukuna replied flatly and grumbled, lowering his drink from his lips and nodding towards his room. “Either way, she’s gonna be sleeping in there. You.. You just stay there. I’ve heard about you and your moments with girls.”

While you sat there, watching the obvious alpha vs alpha moment– total cringe by the way– you laughed and grabbed some blankets and pillows that decorated the couch and started getting the space ready for two men to sleep in.

“Boys,” Is all you said while you roll your eyes, taking the bundle of warmth into the next room while the said boys continued their little staring contest.

You quickly made a place for Gojo and Sukuna to both sleep in the living room, although everything in your mind said to just switch with Sukuna instead. You couldn’t go into Sukuna’s room, it’s too embarrassing and personal wasn’t it? For him at least?

Nonetheless, you finished setting up your bed and quickly making sure with Sukuna that it was absolutely alright to sleep in there, you badgered him into watching three different horror movies with Gojo. Picking between the three though, it was a little tougher than you had planned it to be.

“Friday the 13th is one of the dumbest horror movies,” Sukuna said, arms crossed on his end of the coffee table.”I like seeing tits as much as the next guy, but Nightmare on Elm Street has more story.”

Oof, you got him there, Sukuna.

“At least Friday the 13th is better than Halloween!” Gojo whined in response, lifting up the movie’s case and shaking it. Pointing at the label, right under the “uncut” bit of it. “At least it’s not this garbage! This has almost no plot other than a psycho chasing after his baby sister like a weirdo.”

True, true..

While the boys continued to rant and grumble, you stood from your cushion on the floor and grabbed the movie you had chosen. It was fairly recent, kinda creepy and gross, and with a dancing clown. Opening the case, the crack caught the attention of the two guys at the table and you pop in the DVD. There was a triumphant smile on your face as you made your way to the kitchen and grabbed three bowls and spoons.

“What did you put in?” Sukuna asked, his brows furrowed in obvious annoyance. “We agreed we would be coming to a decision together.”

You shrug and pull out a big tub of ice cream you had purchased earlier when Sukuna had gotten sick. “Y’all keep bickering so I decided to choose mine. It’s a little spooky, a little gross, and has a clown in it.”

The white haired, blue eyed, slightly drunk Gojo shuddered and pressed his brows together. He had seen this movie with Geto before and the fear inside him made him cringe. “Really? It? Did you have to choose that creepy movie?”

Sukuna waves a hand, watching you put ice cream into the bowls from the massive tub you had bought. “Hold on, is it the 1990 version or the 2019 one?”

You sigh and shake your head as you finish putting up the ice cream and make your way over to the table. Placing the bowls on the table and making at least one of the boys smile, while sitting between them and lifting the remote to skip through the previews that were already playing. Sukuna grumbles under his breath, something he appears to be doing often, and you play the movie. The scene starts on a thundering day in Derry, the gray sky giving an ominous feel to the already creepy music that was playing. The camera pans to a large and abundant home that held two brothers, Billy the oldest, and Georgie the youngest.

The pair are currently working on a paper boat, Billy smiling once he finishes and turns to his little brother. Asking him to go and get some wax to finish their little paper boat, but Georgie complained until he was finally convinced to go get the wax.

During this, Gojo had managed to scoot his way over to join you and face the TV screen. Actively scooping his ice cream with a childish gleam in his eye as he watched the movie, while Sukuna sat somewhat farther away, side eyeing the both of you with a huff and an upset look on his pouty face. While you wanted to tease and make fun of the face, you stayed quiet as the movie played on.

The iconic 2019 scene with Georgie and Pennywise started, the clown being played by the fabulous Bill Skarsgård. You smile and look between the two men before smirking and announcing suddenly;

“Bill is really pretty.”

The sudden confession earned you a confused side eye from the boys, their brows raising in perfect harmony. “Sorry?” Gojo started, still sucking on his cream covered spoon between his pink lips. You chuckle at the dumbfounded looks and stay quiet, letting their minds fester in confusion until the scene where Pennywise and Georgie meet and start to talk.

Sukuna’s tongue clicks at the cgi that plays later, making you giggle and lean back against the couch, continuing to munch on the ice cream and snuggling into your blankets. Smiling as the boys also got comfortable. Sukuna puts his bowl on the table once his dessert is gone, Gojo’s already on the table since he finished a while ago.

While you wanted to stay up and watch more movies with them, your eyes started to slowly close. And while the main group of the movie started getting hallucinations of Pennywise, and their darkest fears, you had fallen asleep. Head resting on Sukuna’s shoulder and thoroughly surprising him.

Gojo glanced over with half his face behind the blankets and chuckles, smiling slightly at the cutesy scene before him. “Aren’t you two snuggly~? Kinda cute of you to act like that, punk.”

“Says the punk,” Sukuna grumbled back, brows pressed together in a quiet attempt to regain some dignity. Though, that didn’t come back as he lifted you into his strong and warm arms, biceps flexing under the weight. “I’ll get her to bed. You just.. don't touch anything."

Gojo lifts a hand and uses his other to make a cross across his chest, turning his attention back to the movie and letting Sukuna take you to bed. (But once Sukuna got back, he was definitely convinced that Gojo used it as an excuse to get more ice cream.) The trip wasn’t long, and Sukuna couldn’t help but glance down at your sleeping face before entering his own room, seeing your cute little lips still as plump as before. Doing that same pout they always did whenever you slept.

The pink haired bad boy wasn’t particularly proud that he remembered your sleeping face from years ago, but he still did. It doesn’t matter anyways. Sukuna didn’t want to get cuddly anymore.

He’s not the kid he once was, the one that followed you around during school so that he could keep an eye on you. To protect you from all the other snot nosed fourth graders that dared side-eye you a certain way. That wasn’t the same Sukuna Ryomen that was carrying you to bed right now.

Once he had placed you on the mattress, he let his mind wander for a moment and he brushed his fingers lightly against your cheek. Pushing some stray hairs behind your ear with a small hum– he didn’t want to enjoy it, despite all the little holes inside him begging to.

With much restraint, Sukuna’s hand removed itself from your cheek. There was a weird twinge in his chest at this, his hand even clamping up and turning into a fist as he stood. Patting his shorts off though, the feeling soon left. But he felt it linger in his heart when he left the room and closed the door, walking back into the living room to see that Gojo had already claimed the couch and was nuzzling into a pillow asleep.

Woe is the one with no bed to slumber..

With a sigh, Sukuna gathered the empty bowls and went to wash them up in the sink. Letting the warm water from the faucet wash away all the bubbles and cloudy thoughts in his head. Watching the suds foam around his fingers and the sponge, wiping away the ice cream residue on the bowels and spoons. The urge to get a beer and fall in bed with you though was powerful, so all his restraint was holding him back from doing so.

“What the hell..” He muttered to himself, letting one of the spoons slip from his grip and clang in the metal sink. “Ah, shit..”

When did he become so soft? It’s been a month, hasn’t it?

Sukuna stills, squeezing the sponge lightly in his grip. Realizing that it took just a month– maybe even a few weeks– for you to already worm your way back into his heart. He didn’t want that, he didn’t need it. That little childish promise he made all those years ago was just some little dream he once had. It had no real meaning, no need to further investigate.

“..That’s it..” Sukuna says quietly to himself, rinsing off the bowls and spoons before putting them on the rack. Wiping off his hands and going to get a spare change of clothes quickly, making sure to keep quiet as best he can to not wake you or the punk on his couch.

He got his coat and his shoes, grabbing his keys and taking one last glance back at his now full dormitory. Grimacing at the pervert on his couch, and the girl in his bed, he left and locked up the apartment. Rushing down the hall, despite it being almost twelve at night, to find a girl willing to release himself on. Sukuna had to get you out of his head, he didn’t care how, he didn’t care who.

Letting you control over his heart was something he didn’t want you to do to him again.

⇦ 🃍 🃎 ⇨

After you had woken up in your childhood best friend’s bed, you were quick to clean up the room as best you could before leaving to ask to borrow the shower. What you didn’t expect was to find Sukuna missing from his sleeping area on the floor. You were curious but didn’t want to call him, seeing as he was an adult and could take care of himself.

While you were anxious about using it without permission, you stripped in his room and got a towel to wrap yourself up in. Putting your dirty laundry and undies into the washing machine before heading into the bedroom to use the shower. You went to work washing your body, making sure to take care of your hair and face properly, even though you didn’t have your face washing items with you on hand.

Then again, you didn’t plan on staying the night at Sukuna’s dorm.

Now that you thought about it, sleeping in Sukuna’s bed was a lot more embarrassing than you thought. Letting your thoughts wander, you started to remember how warm the bed actually was. It was comfortable, with sheets as soft as clouds, and a pillow that hugged your face and relaxed your neck throughout the spine.

Blissfully remembering your sleep and the peaceful dreams that clouded them, you got out of the shower and dried off. Wrapping a towel around your chest, taking special care to make sure the slit of the towel was covered before leaving the bathroom only to be startled and slam the door closed just as quickly as you had opened it.

Sukuna. Behind the door.

“...What the hell?” His voice croaked out after a second– once you had finished screaming your heart out of course. “What are you doing in a towel?!”

“SHOWERING, OBVIOUSLY!!”

There was more silence between you two, before you cracked the door open to see Sukuna rummaging through his drawers for something. Completely shielding his view of you, which made your heart throb slightly. Doki Doki? You got out of the bathroom and squirmed in your spot by the door before Sukuna tossed a large shirt over his shoulder at you and grabbed some shorts as well.

His brows pressed together with a gruff tone to his voice. “Go on, put them on.”

“Ah, Sukuna..” You blush slightly at the gesture, shaking your head when you catch the shirt. “R-Really, I’m okay–”

“I’m not letting you walk around with your pussy out. Put it on.”

The vulgarity in his words make your face flush bright red. Steaming so badly you swore you heard the sounds of a kettle whistling in your head. With a shaky sigh, you lift the shirt over your still damp hair and turn to face the bathroom. The cool fabric touches your skin, sending small waves of goosebumps across your arms and legs. Once the shirt was on fully, you pulled the towel out from underneath the shirt and patted down the bum portion and front a little before looking back to Sukuna.

“..N-Now the shorts.” He says calmly, averting his attention from you and tossing over the shorts, sitting on the bed with a hand covering a good portion of his face. “Hurry up. The breakfast I got for you and that twink is gonna get cold.”

“Oh? That’s where you went?”

Pulling up the shorts over your legs and waist, Sukuna nods and slowly starts making his way out of the room. Face still covered in what you could only imagine as pure embarrassment of the situation. Sorry Sukuna..

You made yourself look normal, drying your hair out and applying some lotion you got from the bathroom, before getting out of the room and into the main living area where Gojo was already up and rubbing his sore and sleepy eyes.

“Morning,” He said, a pout to his lip at the sudden disturbance of being awake. “Shower? You smell nice.”

You nod and pet his head, chuckling before heading over to the counter and looking at the breakfast Sukuna claimed to have brought home. He lifts a bag with a bright label and begins pulling out platters. The see-through lids reveal hotcakes with other assortments of breakfast items and some syrup. Sukuna placed these platters on the counter while you stood next to him and watched his movements.

Personally, he thought this was kinda cute. He wouldn’t tell you that though. He’s not that kind of guy to get all mushy over feelings.

So, he settles for a small pat on the head, a ruffling of your still damp hair and hums. “Grab a platter and some utensils. It’s messy too so get a few napkins.”

You raise a brow and look over at the pink haired man, pursing your lips. “I’m not a messy eater, you know that!”

“That’s not what the younger you would say,” Sukuna teases, sitting at the couch– practically crushing Gojo’s legs– and flipping through channels on the TV until he found the news station. Letting your broil in your own embarrassment at the mention of your childhood eating habits.

“Y-You.. Just.. shut up.”

There was a triumphant smirk on his face. He won.

You gathered the remaining food and sat on the floor between the two, handing Gojo a platter as well and starting to eat. Giving thanks for the food before watching the TV as well, grumbling to yourself. “Can’t we watch some cartoons or something? It’s a Saturday!”

“Cartoons are for babies,” Sukuna responded while shoveling down a pancake. Whole. Like a damn snack. “I want to see the weather at least.”

“That’s so old of you,” Gojo huffed. “Be cool for once.”

Sukuna returned with an authoritative grunt and quietly watched the screen as the weather analysis was brought up. “Silence and eat.”

The forecast predicted sunshine during the morning and afternoon with relatively calm winds and decent heat. During the evening though, there was a slight chance of rainfall or a mild thunderstorm. It didn’t matter much to you, seeing as you’ll be at your dormitory gaming with Geto later.

“Nice, now you know what’s gonna happen,” You say, turning your attention back to Sukuna. His maroon eyes turned to you, glazed over with some kind of annoyance. You smirk and lift your hand over your shoulder for the remote, wiggling your fingertips slightly. “May I, sir?”

He takes a deep breath and hands over the remote and slowly goes insane as some cartoons were flipped to. Their annoying intro songs playing and driving him even deeper into a Hell he didn’t wish to go down.

⇦ 🃍 🃎 ⇨

That day during your classes, they felt like a fever dream.

You couldn’t put your finger on it. Everything went by in a blur, and you kept replaying the events of this morning in your head. Seeing Sukuna in such a calm state, it made your chest ache. You felt a small twinge at the thought of how he was every morning. Borderline obsessing over it.

It wasn’t until you had a talk with Geto did you clear your head.

Kicking someone’s ass at Mario Kart was every child's gamer dream.

Geto’s fingers tapped at the buttons, as did you. Focused on the screen as you discussed your struggling, somewhat creative love life– slash friendship recovery. That’s what it was supposed to be in the first place.

“So.. what you’re saying is..” Geto trailed, turning a sharp corner on the rainbow bridge and grumbling. “..Sukuna saw the goods?”

Your cheeks burn a little and you pout your lips, clicking the toggles and buttons. “No.. He just saw me from out the shower in a towel. He also got breakfast, and then drove me to classes today too.”

Geto side eyes you with a small smile and hums. “Interesting.”

“And then he says to not worry about it and that he’ll return my clothing once they’re done by tomorrow ‘cause he’s going to the gym and he’ll swing by. Swing by? Not only does he do things like this for me, but he also let me keep one of his old shirts! He’s sending mixed signals all the time! He’s more confusing than most of my history homework.”

Geto nods, still focusing his game, he listens with a smirk to his face. His brain worked overdrive just imagining all the drama that was going on. To him, he knew what the problem was. No one told anyone anything, letting the problems arise and fester. Letting their feelings just bubble in their chests but never say anything.

Such a troubled couple. Just talk, not that hard.

“Well, my advice is to relax more around him,” He says quietly, rushing over the finishing line and turning to look at you. “If you let your guard down a little, he’ll open up more– I think anyways. Sukuna’s a tough person, just let him lean on you. He clearly needs that.”

You stare at Geto in silence, somewhat stunned by the advice before nodding a little.

“Alright.”

Geto nods and stands, heading to the kitchen and grabbing a drink to have before heading off to his dorm and going to sleep. You had turned off the console you both played on, removing the game as well and giving your goodnights. Geto returned the pleasantries and headed out, leaving you and your already sleeping roommate alone in the home.

You got to bed rather quickly, showering quickly and putting your things away, changing into your pjs and folding Sukuna’s clothes neatly into your chair. You rolled around in your bed before facing said chair and staring at them, fiddling with your pillow casing and pressing my brows together.

“Sukuna.. What are you thinking..?”

. . .

a/n: how is y'all doing today? i hope you're doing good ^^;; i am currently struggling with my gen psychology class, it's nothing fancy rn but omg does my brain hurt. anyways, if u guys read the top, i have a wattpad now! there's nothing special about it right now since it's got the current fanfictions on there but yeah wanted to lyk!!!

a/n (.2):: i finished my gen psychology class with a B! i'm literally so proud oml but now i gotta struggle with history ~~;;; also, i'm trying to get back into thr groove for writing my drabbles again ~~;; lmao i'm literally so used to writing for fanfictions right now XD

Chapter Song Theme: — Play Date / Melanie Martinez / lyric video

taglist: @mageyboo, @mzladyd , @mysticwonderlandangel, @sukunaspersonalflashlight, @kawaiipenguin20, @k-indie, @okkotsufav, @cafeinthemoon93, @pulchritxde, @bontenbunny, @deepinballs, @kleeboomed, @fiierytearzx, @wo-ming-bai, @instantgalaxysheep, @watyousayin, @z3r0art, @sukunaobsessed, @lik0, @sukunasfirstlove, @princesstiti14, @nemoyr, @ladywolf44005, @cat-mak20, @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn, @hxlalokidottir, @domainofmarie, @the-moongoddess, @dark-n-dirty-duchess, @agentdedf1sh, @sukunastoy, @lyn-soso, @bao-yu-sarah-morningstar-wang-9, @heyitstacy, @lost-in-tokyo, @marksassybanana, @bozos-r-us , @p-3-4-c-h, @chaoticqueen33, @dxxny-loves-u, @l0tus-in-l0ve , @jiordeci, @opossum0-0, @gumisgirl

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whatisame · 29 days

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Bartylus, baby!!!!

Summary: Barty is in jail and Regulus wants to break up with him. Inspired by that one Shameless US scene.

"Barty..." There are no words to describe what Regulus is feeling right now, holding a phone to his ear and looking at Barty through the stained glass.

"I did it myself," he smirks proudly like it isn't obvious with his wobbly R and smudged g. Regulus is going to kill himself. And then Barty. Don't ask how.

What were you thinking?

Why are you making this so hard for me?

"That is not how you spell Arcturus."

"The fuck it isn't." Barty frowns and looks down at his bare chest. "A-k-t-u-r-u-s."

"I think I would know how to spell my own middle name, Barty."

"Fuck. Are you messing with me right now?"

"Are you?! Who the fuck gets a prison tattoo? Do you know what kinds of infections you could have gotten? Did you even sterilize—"

"—So you don't like it, is that what you're saying?"

"Jesus Christ." Regulus runs his hands through his hair, a fruitless attempt at soothing himself. "Whatever made you think that I'd like it?"

"I don't know, Regulus, the fact that it's fucking romantic?" Barty stared at him with raised eyebrows and Regulus resisted the urge to slam his head against the glass. "I was thinking that once I got out I'd have enough practice to make it look better, maybe even move on from the rusty needle. Then maybe I could give you one of my name. Maybe of my face? Definitely of my ass."

"I'm so not doing that."

"I'm kidding! You don't have to get one of my ass. Although, I must say, you're kind of missing out."

"I will not be getting any tattoos in your honor, Barty. It's over."

"What do you mean?"

"You and me. We're over. We're bad for each other, B."

It was startling, Barty's face changing from his usual couldn't-give-a-damn expression to something so solemn. Regulus had scarcely seen it happen over the course of their friendship. He saw it once, when he'd found out about Walburga's anger issues and how she chose to deal with them. And twice, when he'd pushed Regulus away after their first kiss.

And now, obviously.

"You don't mean that," he says gravely.

"I know we're not boyfriends, I know you hate that word but I thought—" Regulus takes a deep breath and makes himself look Barty in the eye. "I know about Evan."

It's funny. How Barty doesn't even try to deny it. Then again, he didn't think he would.

"Fuck," is the only thing he says.

Regulus agrees.

"I just came here to say that, so..." he grimaces, almost hanging up.

"Wait, Reg!" He sees more than hears the words leaving Barty's lips. He picks up the phone again. Barty is silent on the other end.

"What?" Regulus snaps. It irks him how the other boy enjoys making things harder for him. He knew how much this meant for him. How much he meant to him.

"Just–Don't go." Regulus scoffs. "I'll be your fucking boyfriend or whatever. I don't care but— Stay."

"That's exactly the problem, B. You don't care. I like you—"

"—I like you too!"

"Well I like you more! Clearly! I have been at your beck and call for months and you might pretend like you don't notice and everything is the same and we're still the Barty and Regulus from years ago, but we're not. I'm not. I refuse to spell it out for you, B, so read between the fucking lines."

Barty is silent for a long time before he speaks. Something about the shadows lurking in his eyes makes Regulus lean closer. Everything about Barty is magnetic, and he fucking despises it.

"I know," he nods slowly, "I have always known I don't deserve you. This is not me pitying myself, I know I'm a fucking scumbag, I'm proud of it. But Reg. Fuck. If you could see yourself the way I see you... Well, you'd freak out. I'm properly mental." He chuckles half-heartedly. "It's actually fucking annoying having you running around my head all day. Pretty sure my cell-mate thinks so too. Any day now he's gonna stab me in my sleep with my soap-knife—"

"—Your what?"

"It's a knife carved from soap. Don't worry about the details," Barty says, waving a hand dismissively. "My point is he's told me I'm getting on his last nerve by talking nonstop about you. Or at least that's what I think he said, half of it was in Spanish so, you know..."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Barty says while scratching the back of his neck. He avoids Regulus' searching gaze.

He knows he shouldn't press. That Barty is uncomfortable right now and that to leave it alone is for the best.

And yet...

"What do you say about me?"

It makes Barty throw his head back with a laugh. "Oh, baby, you'd be surprised."

"Well, go on." Regulus twirls the cord around his index finger. The one with the ring Barty gave him. "Surprise me."

"I talk about you at lunch, and make sure everyone knows how much I miss tasting your delicious food."

Regulus laughs but it's more of a punched breath. Barty practically bites through the spoon whenever he offers him a taste.

"I talk about you in the yard when I see the ridiculous cliques and know they'd make you laugh."

Barty describes them for him. He hates that it does make him laugh. He tells him he should join the retired christian hitmen. Barty disagrees, but only because he's forming his own clique.

"I even talked about you when some guy tried to beat the shit out of me. Told him how you weigh half as much as he does and could still kick his ass easily."

"Barty," he chastises. Try to stay out of trouble, he'd told Barty when he first visited him. To which he had replied, Don't worry, I'm going to make prision my bitch. It had done nothing to put Regulus at ease.

Barty smirks. "Shut up. You're flattered."

It makes him snort. Not bothering to deny it.

"I don't talk about you at night but that doesn't mean you're not up here being a little shit." He taps his forehead with the plastic phone and smiles languidly. "You haunt me. I want to know what you're doing, who you are with, it drives me up the walls."

Regulus swallows hard.

"I think often about how I'm here for you. And eventhough I know you hate me for it, I'd do it again. And again. I'll always look out for you first, Whiskers."

"You shouldn't."

"You see... I knew you would say that."

Regulus isn't surprised. They know each other better than anyone else.

"I'm still gonna do it," Barty adds, shrugging. "Even if you get rid of me."

"Like I could," Regulus scoffs. "Fucking parasite."

"Good," he declares. "Now, about Evan—"

Regulus' throat constricts. Right. He'd forgotten for a moment. Evan accidentally let it slip, how he spent the night at Barty's some weeks after their first kiss.

"It's over. I promise. It's been over for a long time. I haven't been able to–ehem–perform with anyone else since we..." he trails off but Regulus got the gist of it.

"Are you kidding? That was months ago!" Barty looks mortified which makes Regulus feel quite accomplished. Barty is naturally unashamed, unbothered and proud, and Regulus feels a rush whenever he manages to get him to snap. Pressing his finger on a bruise has always brought him pleasure. "Don't tell me you were suddenly feeling shy?"

"Fuck you, first of all. I don't want to talk about this."

"Did little Jr miss me so terribly he had to go into hiding?"

"Yes he fucking did!" Barty screams, all loud energy and electrifying gaze. Everything Regulus is fundamentally against concelead in a grimy boy who happens to be his favorite person in ths world.

"So you must like me a lot, huh?!" he goads.

"Yes, you asshole! Very fucking much!"

Regulus chuckles, chest warm and pleasant buzz under his skin. "Adorable. I guess your dick isn't the only thing that went soft."

Barty crackles at that, flipping him off as he laughs.

"I hate you so much," Barty mutters when the shared laughter dies down.

"Yeah, I know." Regulus smiles, gently tracing Barty's stupid tattoo with his eyes.

Regulus Akturus Black

"I hate you with my bones."

#flesh and bones. they love each other with their flesh and bones I AM SO NORMAL ABOUT IT #so i think i need to clarify that theyre not dating and Barty TRIES to hook up with Evan as he'd done many times before but he freaks out b #he's thinking of reg the whole time and hes not supposed to catch feelings like that #anyways i wrote this on a whim because i started looking at some gallavich gifs before going to sleep. BIG MISTAKE #im supposed to be asleep #fuckkkkkkk #bartylus #barty crouch jr #regulus black #barty x regulus #regulus x barty #starkiller

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sixlane · 7 days

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sunday snippet

thank you for the tag @ecstarry <33 here's some more of get him back ch. 3. james being a menace as always

“Whatcha looking at?” The voice comes from directly above him. Regulus looks up, disbelieving because what are the odds this happens to him again? But no, of course his ears aren’t deceiving him. It’s James, in the flesh, as if lusting after the man on his phone willed him into being. Regulus quickly exits Instagram. “Jesus what the fuck are you doing here?” Regulus asks, exasperated. “Sorry one second just open your Instagram again?” James is smiling ear to ear and it’s the last thing Regulus wants to see. It seems he’s been found out. He feels his cheeks burning a bit as he tries to explain why he was just stalking James’ profile all the way back to high school. “Fuck off James, I wanted to post that picture Sirius posted and I needed your username so I could tag you.” “Sure Reg but you know the username is right at the top, right? You don’t have to scroll to the bottom of my page to find it.”

np tags: @sugarsnappeases @honeybcj @sommerregenjuniluft @moon-seas @regscupid @veryinnovative

#lane writes #fic: get him back #jegulus #james potter #regulus black #marauders

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fandomxpreferences · 2 years

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Deja Vu

Pairing: Rooster x female!reader

Word Count: 3.8k (this got out of control lol)

TW:angst, description of injuries, fluff,swearing

Based on this request

A/N: I hope y'all enjoy this because its absolutely one of my favorite pieces so far and im so proud of it.Also did I scroll through dozen photos of miles and zoom in to figure out his eye color? yes I did.

Maverick watches everything happen in slow motion. He looks on helplessly as Rooster gets stuck in a jet wash and goes into a tailspin. His voice is stuck in his throat as he's forced to see the son of his former RIO suffer the same fate. The fate he promised Carol he'd protect her only son from. At that moment, all he knows is that Rooster hit the canopy as he ejected, floating to the ground completely limp. He mentally prepares to face you the same way he had to face Carol all those years ago.

You're standing in the kitchen putting groceries away when your phone rings. You close the fridge and look at the caller ID. Your heart rate speeds up when you see the picture of Maverick holding you in a headlock with a wide smile on his face. Rooster has been gone on a classified mission for the last two weeks. You don't know where he is or when he'll be back, but you know it should be at least another week.

You know that this was a no-contact mission, meaning Mav shouldn't be calling you. And if they're able to call, why would Mav call instead of Bradley? You pick up the device and hit the green button, bringing it up to your ear. "Hello? Mav?" You ask cautiously. You're terrified of what's waiting for you on the other end of the line.

"Y/N. I thought I should be the one to call." His voice is nervous, and it causes you to tremble with fear. "There's been an incident. Bradley's on a medevac but he's still a few hours out." On the other side of the phone, Mav is trying his best not to let you know how worried he is. It does no good, you can hear the distress in his voice.

"What happened? Is he okay?" You ask. You're doing your best to stay composed and get information, but the panic is leeching into your voice. Every second that you don't get an answer, you become more frantic.

You're brought back by the sound of Maverick's voice. "I…I don't know, Y/N. He-" there's a pause and you hear him take a shaky breath. "He had to eject and he-" Maverick stops again trying to steady his voice. You about rip your hair out waiting for the man to spit out what he's trying to say.

"He what, Pete?! I need to know what the fuck happened!" You bite out. You know it's harsh. You grew up with Bradley and know Mav is reliving one of the worst days of his life. But you need to know if you're about to suffer the same grief that you watched Carol carry until she took her last breath.

"He hit the canopy. He was limp when he hit the ground. He's alive, but I don't know anything else." He's crying now, but you're barely listening as your ears ring. You feel your blood run cold and your knees buckle, sending you crashing to the ground.

You don't know how long you've been spiraling, but you're launched back into reality at the sound of Maverick calling your name. "Y/N? Are you there?" He's yelling, so you figure he's been trying to get a response for at least a couple of minutes.

"You promised. You promised me you'd keep him safe." Your voice is small as tears begin to roll off your face and onto the hardwood floor. "Where are they taking him?" You ask, already reaching for your keys. You know Bradley's still hours away, but they're out of their fucking minds if they think you won't be there waiting when he arrives.

You vaguely register Mav's answer followed by him asking, "Is there anything I can do? Trust me, I'm doing everything I can to get there. I'm working with Ice now." You shake your head even though he can't see you.

"No," you tell him. "He trusted you, just like his dad. Look what that got them." You hang up, not bothering to wait for a response. You know it was cruel. You know you'll regret it later, but right now emotions are running high and all you can think about is being handed a folded-up flag as people look on with pity.

You get to the hospital in record time, rushing to the front desk. A kind-looking older lady is sitting behind a computer and you momentarily feel bad for startling her with your urgency.

"My husband, Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, was in an accident on a mission. He's being flown here, but I was wondering if you had any more information." The words run together as they rush out of your mouth.

She gives you a warm smile and types for a few seconds. She glances up at you and you hate the sympathy in her eyes. You wonder for a second if that's a look you should get used to before she speaks. "I don't have any information on his condition, ma'am. All we've been told is to have a medical team and operating room on standby."

You thank her, barely holding yourself up as you stumble over to a chair. You plop down and just stare at the white wall in front of you. The sterile smell burns your nostrils and your eyes hurt from the harsh fluorescent lighting. You prepare yourself for the worst. You don't know a lot about hospitals, but you've seen enough TV to know having anything on standby isn't good. There must be hope if they're bothering to work on him, right? At least it was a medevac and not a search and recovery.

You don't know how long you've been trying to reason with yourself, spiraling around different scenarios. It must have been a while because your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a helicopter. You know he won't be coming through the front, which you're grateful for. You don't think you could stand to see the doctors swarming him, yelling out orders and diagnoses that you can't make sense of.

You do, however, see the doctors running when their pagers alert them that your husband is here. The receptionist gives you a gentle smile, and assures you she'll let them know you're here waiting for an update. You must have dozed off because you're awoken by Maverick sitting next to you with two coffees.

You sit up and crack your neck, certain that you'll be sore from being slumped over in the stiff chair. He offers you a cup and you take it gingerly, giving him a remorseful smile. You open your mouth to apologize but you're cut off by the older man shaking his head and putting his hand up.

"Don't. You have nothing to be sorry for. You're scared and it's normal to lash out. It's water under the bridge." You nod your head and meet his eyes. He reaches out to hold your hand and that's all it takes. Within seconds you're crumbling into his arms, sobs wracking your body. He doesn't say anything. He just kisses your head and holds you firmly as you release the terror and panic that you've been swirling in all day.

It takes about an hour for you to settle down. You sit next to the man who's always been like blood to you, sipping your now cold coffee. It's silent aside from an occasional hiccup from you and the normal hustle and bustle of a hospital. There's no need to talk. There's nothing to say. All you can do is wait, and it's torture.

After another few minutes, the doors open and a doctor in scrubs walks out. Your eyes lift up to look at the woman. She looks tired. It's been 10 hours since Bradley arrived. You assume she's the surgeon who holds the rest of your life in her palms. Her eyes land on you and she takes a step forward. "Mrs.Bradshaw?" She questions and you shoot out of your chair, meeting her halfway. "Yes, that's me." You confirm, your voice wavering. She nods her head and looks over the chart in her hands.

"Your husband was in a nasty accident." She starts. You wait with bated breath and feel Maverick come up behind you, prepared to catch you if necessary. "He came in with a shattered clavicle and several broken ribs. His body hit the canopy, and it caused a pretty severe internal hemorrhage." You lean your weight on maverick, feeling your knees start to grow weak.

"I was able to stop the bleeding, but he needed three bags of blood. He has some pretty severe wounds and needed a total of 112 stitches. He's in a medically induced coma to help his body heal, but he is stable. We hope to bring him out of it in the next couple of days if all goes well." You stand there silently, trying to process the information.

She gives you the time you need and after a couple of minutes, you look back up. "Can I see him?" You ask. The doctor looks between you and Maverick a few times. Slowly, she nods and you feel like you've taken your first real breath since this started. "I have to warn you though, he's pretty beat up. It may be distressing." You shake your head. "I don't care. I need to see him." You croak.

"They're still getting him settled in, but I'll let a nurse know to come get you as soon as he's ready." She starts to walk away before turning back to face you. "For what it's worth, your husband is extremely lucky given the circumstances. Had his shoulder not taken the brunt of the force, he would have sustained a spinal injury or a traumatic brain injury. He’s fortunate not to be paralyzed. I've seen this exact situation play out very differently. At the end of the day, you still get to take your husband home and he will be his normal self after some physical therapy and rest. Just try to think of it that way when you see him." She tells you gently, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Will he get to fly again?” You ask. If he loses his wings, Bradley will never be the same. It’s who he is and it would destroy him. She gives you a kind smile and nods. “It’ll be a while, but yes. He will be able to fly again.” You nod and she goes back the way she came.

Twenty minutes later, you and Mav are following a nurse down a bleak hallway. You stop outside a door and look at the number plate. 402. "You can go in whenever you're ready. If you need anything, don't hesitate to hit the call button." She informs you with a gentle tone. It's well past visiting hours and the hospital is empty. It's not customary for them to bend the rules, but you know Maverick must have pulled some strings because nobody gives you a second look.

You stand outside the door for a minute, bracing your head against it and white-knuckling the handle. You listen to the steady beeping coming from Bradley's room and try to remind yourself that it means he's alive. He's here and he needs you. You take a deep breath and push the heavy door open.

Nothing in the world could have prepared you for what was before you. As bad as the scenarios in your head were, this seemed worse. There was your husband laying on a hospital bed, but if you didn't know better you would have walked right past completely unaware. His usual golden skin was pale and clammy. The curls that he carefully styled every morning were messy and untamed, falling onto his forehead. He looked dead. You let out a choked whimper and collapse. Maverick must have been directly behind you because your knees never hit the cold tile.

Instead, you were lowered gently and cradled in strong arms. You felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest and thrown in a blender. You clasp both hands over your mouth trying to stifle your gut-wrenching cries.

Behind you, Maverick feels his own tears fall. He's heard these deep, primal wails before. It was the same way Carol cried when he held her after Goose's death brought her to her knees.

Your eyes rake over his form, taking in all the wires and IVs poking and prodding his body. He's intubated and covered in bandages. You cry until you throw up, Maverick holding your hair back the same way he did Carol's. Maverick had always jokingly asked when you were giving him an honorary grandchild, but at this moment he's glad no child is waiting for you at home.

Maverick manages to settle you down, and you take your place at Bradley's bedside. The next couple of weeks are filled with updates from the doctors, promising he'd be woken up soon. After a couple days, the rest of the Dagger Squad made it back to solid ground and came first thing.

He wasn't as pale and ghastly by the time they arrived and you were glad. You would be seeing it in your nightmares for the foreseeable future, and you knew they already had their own trauma surrounding the incident.

They all took turns checking in on you. Bringing food and clothes, forcing you to shower and sleep. Maverick, Phoenix, and Hangman were the ones who came most often and stuck around the longest.

Bradley had grown quite close with the blonde aviator since the uranium mission, and in turn, you had too. Hangman promised Bradley that if anything ever happened, he'd take care of you. He was doing everything in his power to keep that promise.

It's been three weeks and the doctors have stopped the medication and removed the breathing tube. He's now in a coma with no end in sight. The doctors tell you he'll wake up when he's ready, that sometimes these things just happen.

You and hangman are having your usual chat and watching re-runs of shitty reality tv. He's brought you takeout, forcing you to take a bite every few minutes. Your clothes are baggy and your eyes are sunken in, the stress clearly taking a toll. You're in the middle of chewing when you see Bradley's hand move out of the corner of your eye.

Hangman notices you freeze and turns to look at you. "What is it? Are you okay?" He asks, giving you a visual assessment. You chew and swallow your food, almost choking. "He moved." You tell him, eyes boring into Bradley's hand.

Jake watches for a few minutes before placing a hand on your back. "Maybe you should get some sleep." He suggests. You shake your head aggressively, messy hair flopping around. "No. I'm telling you. He moved."

Jake is getting concerned you're starting to hallucinate when he hears Bradley's voice. "Did you bring me any or were you just going to eat in front of me?" His voice is scratchy and weak after not drinking any water for almost a month.

You jump out of your chair and grab his hand. "Oh my god. Bradley! I knew you'd come back to me." You're sobbing and he reaches up to wipe your cheek. "Hey, none of that. I'm right here." You lean into him, grasping his large hand in your own and holding it in place.

Jake hits the call button, and a nurse comes rushing in. The staff has become quite fond of you. You have the team bring them snacks and you spent many sleepless nights swapping stories, most of them being military spouses as well. Most importantly, you never hit the call button, not wanting to desensitize them for when this inevitably happened.

The nurse, who was the same one that took you to his room that first night, is smiling so big it looks like her face might split. "Mr.Bradshaw. Glad you decided to join us." She beams. She calls for a doctor and begins taking his vitals. She works around you, allowing you to stay glued to his side. Bless her. You make a mental note to send her a gift basket.

Jake leaves to call the rest of the team, and you sit in the room listening to the doctor. She looks over his charts and gives him a bright smile. "Well Lieutenant, it seems that coma served you well. You're healing up quite nicely. We'll keep you for observation just to be safe, and if all is well you can go home in the morning."

You leave Bradley for a moment and give the doctor a bone-crushing hug. "Thank you. For everything." You tell her. She laughs and returns the hug. "You're welcome. You've been a joy, despite the poor circumstances." She tells you, before turning and pointing at Bradley.

"You. Don't let me see you here again. This poor woman almost withered away. I've never had a loved one not leave the hospital for three weeks. Didn't even take a step outside for a walk or fresh air." She scolds playfully. She bids one last goodbye and leaves to give you two privacy.

"Come here, sweet girl." Bradley calls out and you rush to his side. His voice is almost back to normal since drinking some fluids and he's gotten his color back. He looks like your Bradley. He pulls you down and you sit on his bed careful not to hurt him. He grabs the back of your head and brings your lips to his. It's a bruising kiss filled with fear, relief, and love. You pull back for air and lock eyes with him.

You make a note to never take them for granted again. Five weeks without seeing his hazel eyes. You take in every gold fleck, committing them to memory. You were terrified you'd never see them again. Never look into them and see the love and adoration he holds for you. Bradley is the first to break the silence.

"I was so scared, Y/N." He confides with tears In his eyes. "All I could think about was my dad, and how I was going to leave you the same way he left me and mom. I kept picturing your face when you got the news. Kept seeing Mav hand you a folded flag and dog tags like he gave me at dad's funeral." He cries.

You shake your head, not wanting to think about it. That had been the only thing on your mind while you were waiting to find out if you were a widow. You place his hand over your heart. "No, Roo. None of that talk, okay? You're here. You're alive. You feel my heart? It beats for you. Only for you. I never want to think about that again, okay?" You tell him as a tear falls down your face.

Bradley brushes it away and kisses the wet streak it left in its wake. "No more crying, baby, You're too pretty." You give him a teary smile and pull back. "No more crying." You confirm, leaning forward to give him another kiss.

The room is filled with junk food and laughter as the whole team sits around catching up. You look around and smile, beyond happy that things are back the way they should be. Visiting hours come to an end and everybody says their goodbyes, promising to come to see him once he's home tomorrow.

You shut the door and turn to lean against it, facing Bradley. You give him a small smile and he returns the gesture. He waves you over and you make your way to his side. He lifts the blanket and pats the bed, signaling that he wants you to get in.

You shake your head gently. "You're still hurt, Roo. Besides, I don't think that's allowed." You reason. He scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Neither is you living here, but you're all moved in. I don't give a fuck what the policy is, I haven't slept with my girl for over a month. Get your cute ass in here." He retorts with a teasing tone. You give a defeated sigh, before gently crawling into bed.

You can't deny that you've missed this. You haven't gotten more than two hours of consecutive sleep since the accident. He pulls you tight against his chest and kisses your temple. Your eyes flutter shut as he runs his fingers through your hair, his other hand tracing up and down your spine.

"Get some sleep, sweet girl. You look like shit." You can hear the smirk in his voice and you gasp dramatically. "I thought you said I was pretty." You shoot back with mock offense. He chuckles and you feel him wince. "The prettiest. But that doesn't mean you don't look like you went three rounds with Rocky." He jests.

You're half asleep already when you respond. "You're lucky I love you." He lays his cheek on top of your head, smelling your shampoo. "The luckiest." He whispers, joining you in a peaceful slumber.

The next morning, you wake up to the smell of breakfast and Bradley's body moving. You raise your head to look at him, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. "I'm sorry if I woke you, baby. I have to sign this discharge paperwork." He explains. You look at the clock and see it's eleven. You slept for twelve hours.

One of your favorite nurses comes in and gives you a lazy grin. "Morning sleeping beauty." She quips. You groan, gently climbing out of bed and stretching your aching muscles. "I'm sorry if sleeping in the bed caused any issues." You say with a shy smile. She shrugs her shoulders. "I didn't see anything." She giggles, bringing her finger to her lips in a shushing motion. "This is why you're my favorite." You tell her fondly.

A couple hours later, you and Bradley are on your way home. You pull into the driveway and place your car in park. You help him out of the passenger side and go to grab the bags. Being in the coma for three weeks means the worst of his injuries is over. He still has to do physical therapy and take it easy, but he's doing considerably better and should be back to work within a couple months.

You turn around and see Bradley giving his Bronco an awkward hug. "I missed you so much." He whispers and you shake your head at his antics. "Jake came over every couple of days and drove it so the battery didn't die." You tell him. His head whips towards you. "You let hangman drive my pride and joy?" He asks with clear horror.

You scoff. "You trust him to take care of me, but not your truck?" You question with a raised eyebrow. His arms drop to his sides and he admits defeat. "Touche."

"Let's get inside. Everyone is coming over for a bonfire later and we need to get ready." You remind him.

The night is filled with laughter and loud music. Everyone swaps embarrassing stories and you take it all in, pressed firmly against Bradley's chest. You turn around and give your husband a sweet kiss, and he gives you a heart-stopping smile and wink. The next few months are going to be challenging, but as long as you have each other, you can get through anything.

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