#12 hours until my next shift do i just go to bed now and wake up stupid early so i can shower in the morning

[triforce-of-mischief]

aaaaaaaaaaaa

[ryder-writes]

A Birthday Proposal- Kirishima x GN!Reader

A/n: Happy late birthday Kiri!!

CW: Nothing that I can think of!

WC: 850

"Wow, you guys! Thank you so much!" Eijiro smiled. It was his 23rd birthday, and you had invited the bakusquad to go camping. He had mentioned a few months ago how he went camping with his moms when he was younger and it was still one of his favorite memories. So you decided that it would be the perfect way to celebrate his birthday. Now, all seven of you (You, Eijiro, Bakugo, Mina, Denki, Sero, and Jiro) were all sitting on logs around a campfire, the dark orange sky emanating a nice, comfy glow. Each of you held a stick, roasting marshmallows over the fire.

"Of course, man. Happy birthday." Sero grinned, raising his stick before ripping the marshmallow off with his teeth and eating it.

"Yeah, you deserve a break dude." Jiro remarked.

"I know, I was maybe working myself a little bit too hard." Eijiro nervously scratched the back of his neck.

"A little? You were almost taking as many shifts as me."

"I hate to say it but blasty's right; that’s a lot."

"See. Even dunce face agrees." Bakugo motioned towards Denki, who was sitting across from him.

"Okay, okay." Eijiro chuckled. "I get it. But I just wanted to make sure my rank is good, y'know? It's harder for new heroes to get high rankings."

"You're number 12 are you not?"

"Well, yes, I am, but-"

"No 'buts'! You're doing fine, don’t worry about work while we're trying to celebrate your birthday." Bakugo huffed.

Eijiro sighed. "You're right. Sorry guys."

"Don’t apologize baby, just enjoy your birthday." You say as you grab onto his arm and lean into him. In response, he leans down and kisses the top of your head, causing you to giggle.

You all sit there for the next few hours, chatting and warming up by the fire. Time flies quickly, and before you know it, it's midnight.

"'m tired, I'm going to bed." Bakugo grumbles, standing up.

"Come on, blasty! Stay for a bit!" Mina grabs his arm.

He pulls his arm away. "No, I'm tired. Goodnight." Mina frowns.

You turn to Eijiro. "Hey, can I talk to you? Alone?" You could see a slight twinge of concern in Eijiro's eyes.

"Of course baby, everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine I just…" You felt him intertwine his fingers with yours.

"Hey, me and Y/n are gonna go on a walk real quick." Eijiro announces as he grabs a flashlight. "We'll be back in a little bit."

"Okay, have fun!" Mina waves as you two walk into the woods.

-

After what felt like 30 minutes of silent walking, you made your way to a field of wildflowers, their color dulled by the night. You nervously fiddled with the small box in your pocket before stopping. Eijiro notices you’ve stopped walking so he turns around to face you.

"What's on your mind, honey?" He asks. You notice how his eyes are soft and his head is slightly tilted to the side. You fondly think of how he reminds you of a dog.

"I love you so much, Eijiro." He wasn’t expecting you to say that.

"I love you more."

"I doubt that." You let go of his hand.

"And why's that?" He taunts. You take a deep breath in before pulling the box out of your pocket. You get down on one knee, opening the box to reveal a black ring with a stripe of red in the middle, outlined in silver (image here). "Baby…" He cups a hand over his mouth, shocked at what's happening.

"I love you so much, Eijiro." You start, hands trembling because of your nerves. "You have no idea how many times I would look at you from across the room; how many times I asked Mina for your number before she finally caved and gave it to me." You chuckle at the memory. "Talking to you was honestly the best decision I ever made in my life. You changed my life for the better; you made me a better person, and I wish to love you and support you the same until my last breath. You're so kind, putting everyone before yourself… you truly are the manliest person I could ever wish for as a life partner. To wake up next to you, to love you, is a gift I know I am forever grateful to have." You exhale. "Eijiro Kirishima, will you marry me?"

Eijiro immediately bends down and picks you up, spinning you around. Sniffling, he laughs, kissing your head.

"Yes! Of course I'll marry you, baby!" He puts you down and you take the ring out of the box. Grabbing his hand gently, you slide the ring onto his finger. "It fits perfectly…" He whispers. You reach out and wipe his tears before cupping his face and kissing him sweetly. He of course returns the kiss, moving his hands around your waist. You both pull away, and he leans forward and kisses away your happy tears. After a moment of comfortable silence, Eijiro starts to sway back and forth. You join in, moving slowly with him to a silent song.

You dance together, surround by the beauty of the night and your love for each other.

A/n Pt.2: Hope you enjoyed! I've only seen proposal fics where Kiri proposes so I wanted to change that lol. A lot more Kirishima content is on my Masterlist as well if you wanna check it out :] /nf

[artiststarme]

What If Steve Were To Leave Hawkins? Part 14

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Just a few more parts! Thank you to everyone for reading and sticking around. This is a soft part so I hope you guys enjoy it! Next, Steve and Eddie are going to be back in Hawkins.

~*~*~*~

Steve wakes up to Eddie’s arms clinging to his waist and his hair in his mouth. He takes a moment to appreciate the view. Eddie’s lying with the blanket pooling below his shirtless chest, hair askew, and mouth open, releasing soundless snores. The scars from the demobats are noticeable and prominent on his pale skin. But, scars and all, Eddie looked beautiful in the morning light sifting through the windows. 

Steve could stay in bed for the rest of life with this as his view. And he was the most comfortable he had ever felt. The sheets were cool against the warmth of the bed and with Eddie’s arms encircling him, Steve felt a warmth he had never before experienced. 

He must have spent an hour just laying in bed with Eddie, watching him sleep. He cataloged the way his eyelashes rested against his cheeks, the way his scars accentuated his wiry frame, and the way the blackness of his tattoos contrasted the paleness of his skin. But alas, his bladder protested and Steve moved to escape Eddie’s embrace. He made his way to the adjoining bathroom to relieve himself and brush his teeth. When he entered the room once more, Eddie was awake and pouting. 

“Where’d you go? I want cuddles,” he pouted and made grabby hands pathetically towards Steve. 

Steve chuckled as he returned to his position underneath the covers. Eddie immediately wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist like an octopus and drew him in closer. He hummed in contentment and nuzzled his nose against Steve’s shoulder, placing a gentle kiss upon the bare skin.

Steve kissed the top of his head in response. “Good morning, babe. What do you want to do today? I’m free until my shift starts at three.” 

He watched Eddie think for a minute. “Let’s just stay in. I just want to enjoy being with you.”

“Are you sure? Laying here with me isn’t going to be fun for you. We could go to the riverwalk or something we haven’t done yet,” Steve offered. 

“Stevie, baby. Look, you have been going out of your way to make sure I had fun since I got here. We don’t have to keep doing extravagant activities, I’m happy as long as I’m with you. So today, let’s just lay in bed talking and making out until your shift. Deal?” He asked imploringly, his brown eyes twinkling with honest affection.

Steve nodded and smiled a soft grin, “that sounds perfect, Eds.”

Eddie let a smile cover his own face, “good. So, you really want me to move in with you?”

Steve scoffed at the ridiculousness of the question, “of course I do. You think I wouldn’t want to wake up to my sexy boyfriend holding onto me every morning? You already agreed to move in, you can’t back out now.”

As usual, Eddie attempted to hide his blush by pulling his hair in front of his face and deflecting with humor. “Careful Stevie, you’re sounding a little gay there.”

He rolled his eyes, “Whatever man, bite me.”

In his defense, he often told the kids to bite him whenever they disagreed with something he said. He didn’t expect for Eddie to actually bite him like some sort of rabid squirrel. 

“Holy fucking shit, Eddie! What the hell was that?” He shrieked while rubbing his right pec where the bite mark was indented in his skin.

“It’s not my fault you look so damn biteable! How could I not?” Eddie defended himself. He bumped Steve’s hand out of the way and dropped a small kiss on the reddened skin. Then he moved on in the conversation, seemingly considering this issue resolved. “I think I’m going to go back to the record store today and fill out an application. The guy said they were looking for somebody.”

“That’s a great idea! You know a lot about music. Are you going to join his band too?” Steve asked. 

Eddie shrugged, “I don’t know. I’d have to meet with them to see if we mesh. I’d like to play again though, even if it’s not with Corroded Coffin.”

After the Spring Break from hell and the beatdown that the other band members received on Eddie’s behalf, they had unanimously decided to go their separate ways. Eddie felt guilty and the others wanted to appease their parents by putting some distance between themselves and the ‘Satan worshiper’ that caused the problem in the first place. 

“Hey, I’m sure it’ll go great. He seemed really impressed that you could play that song by the metal guys, right? You’ve already got a shoe in!” Steve reassured him, punctuating his words with a firm pat on the shoulder. 

“Master of Puppets by Metallica but yeah, you’re right. And they don’t know me as the guy who might’ve gone on a killing spree fueled by Satan so that’ll probably score me some points,” Eddie said sardonically, obviously still bothered by the abandonment of his past bandmates and ex-friends. 

“Exactly! They’re going to love you. You’re passionate and smart. And you play guitar really well! What’s not to love?” Steve told him, looking into his big eyes earnestly. 

Steve knew he said the right thing when Eddie engaged him in a deep kiss. Good thing they didn’t have to be anywhere any time soon. 

~*~*~*~

“Hey El, a few days ago when you compared Steve looking at Eddie to Hopper looking at Joyce, what did you mean?” Max asked her while the Party lounged around the Byers’ TV with The Goonies playing in the background. 

El thought for a moment, “Steve looks at Eddie like he loves him. Like there is nothing else he would rather be looking at. Just like how my dad looks at Joyce.”

Mike did not appreciate what she was implying, “you’re saying that they’re in love? Like they’re dating? There’s no way, El. They’re both dudes so they can’t love each other. You must be wrong.”

Max, always ready to argue with Mike, whipped her head around towards him. “They absolutely can! Why can’t two guys love each other? Love is love, Mike. Get with the times.”

Mike sputtered, “Loving another guy is wrong! There is no way that they’re gay. We would know.”

Max noticed how Will flinched and saw El move to hold his hand. “Loving someone is never wrong, dumbass. And we won’t know for sure until they tell us. Which they won’t if they know you’re a homophobic dickhead.”

Mike shrunk, ashamed that his opinion had upset the others. “I’m sorry. It’s just… Why Steve? Even if Eddie is gay, why does he have to like my sister’s ex?”

Dustin looked confused at the direction the conversation was taking but came to Steve’s defense regardless. “Hey! Steve is a catch, he’s dated half the girls in Hawkins. Okay, why wouldn’t Eddie date him?”

“Hey, I don’t care who they date as long as they’re happy,” Lucas added, ever the pacifist. 

“Look, I’m not surprised Eddie is interested in Steve. Have you seen him shirtless?” Max pointed out. “I have and it was a glorious experience.”

Will nodded in agreement before realizing his mistake and blushing. Thankfully, the other kids ignored him and continued their bickering. He was happy that the older boys had each other to love and support. He could only hope that one day, he could find someone to do the same for him.

Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20: Epilogue

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[noiriarti]

The Arrangement: Armitage Hux x Reader (College AU) Ch. 3

Summary: A cuddle-buddies-to-lovers college AU.

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, [Ch. 3], Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6

Chapter 3: Four Knocks

He felt even more fucked the next morning. He had promised himself he would not fall asleep with you there, and instead spend the night on the couch. But he wanted five more minutes. And so he five-more-minutes-ed his way into falling asleep remarkably quickly. Unlike most other nights, he didn't wake up tossing and turning, or stare at the ceiling and beg for sleep to come. But that was a problem.

When he woke up, it wasn't to his blaring alarm clock. The room was silent, apart from the sound of your breathing. Right. Your breathing. He was in bed. With you. Maybe five more minutes wouldn't hurt. As he drifted off, he saw the clock he kept on his desk. It was fucking noon.

Armitage had very regimented days, and sleeping in until noon was not part of the plan. He usually loved days crammed with activities and tasks. They kept him on target, made sure he achieved all his goals, and prevented him from thinking too carefully about what he really wanted in life. Today, however, he found himself wanting to do none of his usual routine. He'd already slept through orgo and the gened he shared with Phasma--did it really matter if he didn't do his stupid MCAT flashcards?

After laying there for over half an hour, in and out of sleep while still holding you, he decided he should probably wake you. The very thought seemed cruel; you were so angelic like this, the frizzes in your hair caught by the morning light, your lips parted just so. Your hand had gotten under his at some point in the night, and he tentatively rubbed a gentle circle with his thumb over your knuckles. 

But he really should wake you, he reasoned. Armitage said your name and squeezed your hand (and decided not to process that he was holding your hand), but you didn't shift. He repeated himself, louder this time, and then again, which drew a groan from you.

"I'm up, I'm up," you grumbled. You shifted under his arm, turning around to face him with your eyes still closed. He found himself almost smiling at you, so clearly pretending.

"Alright, then open your eyes," he teased. You produced some sort of noise, obviously displeased, but opened your eyes to look at him.

"The good news is you got plenty of sleep, but the bad news is that it's 12:30," he said. Your eyes widened, and you bolted upright in bed and cursed, looking for your phone, or a clock, or something to prove him wrong. He was, unfortunately, completely correct, which meant that you had missed one class, and half of another. Goodbye, sweet attendance points.

"Well, there's nothing I can do about it now. Besides, I'm in Discrete Math and Algorithms with one of my friends, Dopheld, and he can send me the notes," you said. The silence hung between you for a few seconds. "Want some breakfast? I mean, lunch? ...Brunch?" Armitage nodded, and you hopped out of his bed to go back to your room and change.

Ten minutes later, he found you in the kitchen, making yourself an obscenely large bowl of Lucky Charms. You offered the box to him, and he hesitated. Usually, he ate two cups of Greek yogurt with rolled oats, a teaspoon of honey, and fruit, if someone else hadn't eaten it already. Lucky Charms were calorically inefficient, according to his stepmother Maratelle.

Fuck it. He poured the cereal into the bowl and covered it with milk, then went to perch on the couch. Millie, who had spent the night somewhere around your feet, came up to lay next to him. Gwen had sent him a couple of texts asking where he was, and then just sent her notes when class had ended. While drunk on wine, once, he had bitched to her about how little sleep he got, and, since then, she had been buying him melatonin gummies and encouraging him to sleep through his early morning classes. You deserve it, she said, although Armitage wasn't sure he "deserved" anything, really. Working hard was the entire reason he came here.

You sat down next to him, thighs touching again, and ate your cereal with a vicious speed. By the time you finished, he was barely a quarter of the way through, so you got up and made yourself another bowl. Between mouthfuls, you determined you would be the first to speak.

"So, we should probably talk," you said. Apparently, that was the best you could come up with. 

"Is everything alright?" Hux asked, although he really meant to ask what he did wrong, and beg you to give him one more night. The desperation with which he wanted to touch you, to hold you again was staggering. He didn't remember where it came from, and it shocked him. You didn't seem any the wiser to his generally panicked state, so you continued eating the cereal.

"Yeah, just thought we might want to establish some ground rules. Like, no sex, just cuddling." Armitage nodded. "And we can end at any time one of us wants to." He nodded again. "And we shouldn't tell Gwen and Kylo. They wouldn't let us live it down." Armitage chuckled, but nodded. "Finally, I think we should promise to tell each other if we catch feelings. And just, be honest in general."

"Agreed." The final rule worried him for some reason he couldn't quite place, but he let it go. "Perhaps we could meet later in the night, when Gwen and Kylo are asleep? They tend to sleep earlier than I do, so we could meet around 12:45? Oh, and we do not have to meet each night. Just text me if you want to," he added. You smiled at him, finished your cereal, and the two of you watched garbage Netflix shows for two more hours before going back to work.

And so, your arrangement was born. Most days, he'd get a text from you in the afternoon saying something like "see you tonight?" or "hang out later?" and he knew to expect you. At 12:45 am, almost on the dot, he'd hear it. Tap tap tap tap. Always four, always quiet. What you did each night varied. Sometimes, you wanted to be quiet and rest, but, on others, you'd go through your day and tell him about what had happened in class, and he found himself telling you about his day, too. About how he loved chemistry, but was terrified of med school. Of the responsibility. His medical ethics gened with Gwen was really scaring the bejeezus out of him. 

About three nights in, you turned to him and said that you should get to know each other better. Each of you would ask 5 questions of the other, you said. He answered your questions with ease the first night. Favorite animal? Cats. Duh. Favorite TV show? Doctor Who. Best friend? Gwen, probably. Last time he went on a date? A year ago. Why become a doctor? That one was much harder. Because it felt like the right thing for him to do, he said. Because he liked it.

He asked the same questions right back. Cats, Friends, also probably Gwen, last month, and because the pay is better in computer science. He tried not to dwell on the fact that you had been on a date recently (by his standards). He casually inquired if you were still seeing them, but you told him it didn't go well. He didn't ask more questions about it.

Night over night, though he found your closeness and warmth incredible, he realized he was looking forward to hearing about your day more than anything. The tap tap tap tap on his door meant he'd ask you five questions about you--not just the you that went to classes and put food out for Millie, but the real you. The core of you. One time, when your head was on his chest and he was trying to slow his heart down so you wouldn't hear it, you asked him about his insecurities (how pale he was, that he wasn't smart enough for med school). When he asked you the same question, you listed some that baffled him. What did you mean, your voice? Or your hair? Or that you felt like you were always behind everyone else in class? It broke his heart to hear you speak about yourself like that, which he immediately told you, and regretted. He whispered into the night that you had a great voice, and he thought your hair was very good hair, and that you had literally caught up to the compsci juniors in half a year, so you could be nothing short of brilliant. He didn't see it, but a tear or two slipped out.

A month into your arrangement, Armitage took stock of his life, and realized you probably knew him better than he did. Some mornings, he'd come out of his room and find a bowl with two cups of Greek yogurt with rolled oats, a teaspoon of honey, and strawberries. Just how he liked it. And he would grab you lunch right before the dining halls closed, so that when you arrived ten minutes later after class, you could still have food. 

It was little things that alerted Phasma to whatever you two had going on. The unsubtle mooning eyes Armitage was giving you across the living room were disgusting, but confirmation. You were making he same face at him when he was poring over his books five minutes later, which was doubly disgusting, but double confirmation. It was time to do something about it.

Two days later, when she had left class, Phasma sent a text to the roommate group chat, like she always did around that time. Lunch? Within 5 minutes, Armitage had sent a thumbs up, and you had liked the message. Kylo left it on read, which was Kylo-speak for yes. Thirty minutes later, you were gathered in the Holdo Dining Hall, eating a variety of carbs, as usual. Kylo was giving a replay of something that had happened at their last match (something about their goalman getting hit in the face by the ball?), when Phasma interrupted him with your name. 

"Yeah?" You asked nonchalantly. Gwen smiled like a predator about to catch its prey, mainly because she was.

"I've got some juicy gossip about you," Gwen singsonged. Armitage's head whipped around. He didn't even realize he had been staring at you. Gossip? About you? That was probably about some party you went to. You had skipped last Saturday, and, after surviving the bone-crushing emptiness of his room, you had told Armitage the next night that the party was absolutely insane and featured multiple friends-of-friends making out. His heartbeat accelerated. What if you had kissed someone there?

"I know someone who has a crush on you."

Armitage's heart stopped.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

AN: all four of them share a brain cell, and phasma has it 99% of the time

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Regular sleep experiment day "fuck it" of idec.

Again I fell asleep at some point after 10, woke up some time later and laid in bed trying to sleep for what I would estimate was at least about 2 hours, before checking the clock and seeing it was only 12:30 instead of even 3 am.

I'd propose that what I try next is just sleep in two 4 hours shifts, one at day and one at night, but that's effectively what i have been doing and my night sleep just erased itself.

I have crawled out of bed to have a cokey-cola and watch x-files because I don't want to spend yet another night just laying there from before midnight until after 5 without sleeping.

Illicit nighttime caffeine tastes so cold and crisp and fizzy. I actually put this box of them in the fridge before consuming them all so they are actually cold. I was torn between avoiding aluminium and avoiding microplastics, but I wanted to be able to drink it in smaller portions without the whole bottle going flat, so I got cans. Tasty tasty rule breaking.

I don't think it matters, my only hope now is to completely upend my current 'schedule' so I can sleep for more than 4 hours in a day again. I need to so desperately. I am getting weird chest pains again, and my heart acts up more when I am sleep deprived.

I guess another part of the problem is that the time I get sleepy at acts like I have a non-24h sleep cycle, where I have to push my bedtime by 1-3 hours each day or I just lay there awake, but the time I wake up -usually- understands what time it is on the clock and will be at the same consistent hour anyway. I have no problem with laying there awake telling myself calming scenarios until I drift off, but the problem is that if i do that too much, my brain becomes content to lay there all night thinking. It's best for my sleep in general if I can fall asleep shortly after laying down.

I have considered that this might be due to having an alarm which can force me awake at specific times by uh... Waking me up, but even if I set a sleep time alarm, which I do, which I currently have, it can't uh... FORCE me to fall asleep. So my body is trained to wake up at a consistent 24h kind of hour, which it will do with no alarm, but not to get sleepy at a consistent 24h kind of hour... Melatonin doesn't help set this time and sleeping pills do something weird to me that makes me really wakeful if not alert or full of any energy. [The last time I tried sleeping pills I was awake for 48 hours despite laying in bed for over 10 hours doing breathing exercises...]

None of this is a symptom of any disorder currently known to man, unless it just counts as the irregular sleep patterns you expect from a patient with dementia or certain psychotic disorders, neither of which I have to the best of my knowledge. Except the caffeine not being helpful thing, that's adhd for sure. So I don't really think there's any point in prioritizing this issue with doctors over my other problems because they aren't likely to know of disorders that I can't even find mention of on the internet in either formal or informal spaces, especially not my gp, and they can't prescribe me anything anyway due to my metabolism being weird. I have brought up issues sleeping before and I get a lot of shrugging. It doesn't help that I sleep 16 hours a day the other half of the time, so they can't treat one problem without making the other worse.

I have also tried alcohol to try to sleep by now, for the record, and that's how I was able to scrape about 20 minutes out of this.

So now I drink this can of coke, feed my cat, and see if caffeine helps me sleep.

If I can't sleep from now until 5, I am going to try again at just staying awake all day to delete whatever 'schedule' my brain thinks it's on now so I can sleep more than 4 hours. If I can sleep from now until 5... I am going to do that, but also let myself have caffeine at bedtime again.

Fuck it, I don't even care, I just want to sleep.

This is why trying to force myself onto a regular schedule is always a pipe dream that turns into regrets.

[kanside]

life update (3/31/2023)

(holy shit i put 2022 i forgot it was 2023?? whats next? 2024?? so weird)

my physical health is taking a severe plummet (i joke that its in reaction to my mental health doing better).

my sleep schedule has flipped completely from 11pm-9am to 2am-12pm. this is a severely unhealthy shift. doctors say my epilepsy took sleep into factor the most and although i doubt this (my belief is that it was psychosomatic / in response to traumatic situations) i am aware that my sleep plays a HEAVY factor in my physical and mental health as a whole. i am still getting the same amount of hours but i am emotionally imbalanced as well as physically drained because the fucked up sleep schedule is affecting my eating habits. i have been very sick, weak, and generally feeling shitty. on top of that my appetite is affected by how many medications i take during the day. note on the sleep schedule. the reason i want to sleep at 11 pm exactly instead of earlier or later [ex. 9, 10, or 12] is because good sleep is based off of the cycle in which you wake, not the amount of hours slept. my sleep/dream cycle seems to last around 10 hours. this makes me think 11 pm is the best time to sleep, and 9 am is the earliest i must wake up. these times can be adjusted based off of new observations and schedules.

in retaliation to these (imo) severe health issues i have set some general goals and are listing them here to 1. remind myself of them and 2. let everyone know that i am still on the path to recovery and regularly working to improve myself above all else. the goals and ideas are as follows:

- unfortunately gained a dependency on my mom to wake me up in the morning again. frustratingly no matter how many alarms are set, no matter how loud, or even no matter how my mom comes in to gently wake me up, i will not get out of bed. i feel guilty for being dependent on her but have asked her to, when available, wake me up at 9 am by disrupting my sleep state with tasks that piss me off or jolt me suddenly: shaking me by the shoulders, turning my light on (it attracts bugs, i dont like it), leaving my door wide open (i have conditioned myself to think that door closed = sleep time, door open = wake time), etc. this will hopefully keep me from sleeping until noon and exhaust me enough to sleep by 11.

- on top of that ive tried adapting to pain and discomfort associated with eating food at abnormal times. instead of eating breakfast when ive woken up, ive been trying to force myself to eat appropriate meals at appropriate times. today was very hard, i had my favorite sandwhich when i woke up because it was noon. it seriously hurt because my body refused to take in any food (probably because i dont like eating immediately after waking or taking medicine) however i could feel pain due to hunger and knew i needed to eat. this sounds little but it was very hard. hopefully this appetite issue can be forced through and handled better as i fix my sleep. ive also asked my mom to buy some apples (granny smith which i eat in slices, and honey crisp which i eat in whole) because oddly enough the only thing my body wants to eat in the morning is those exact textures and consistencies. she’s going shopping soon so!!! yippee!!!!

- i recently tried to apply to a job. i have recognized this is an impulsive decision and i am not ready to take one on. i gave them my name and number and they said they’d call me, but i’m likely to apologize and decline. we’ll see, i just needed money really. commissions are still open and right now although my goal is health, my secondary goal is gaining traction online to balance hobby, health, and gaining money. im nearly finished with my MAP part and im eager to see the sort of response it gets and establish myself online again

- once i establish a better sleep and eating schedule, ill finally hopefully be able to go to a doctors appt. and request lowering the dosage of my epilepsy medication. it’s very hard taking over a dozen pills day and night for a disorder that hasnt shown itself in over 2 years. i only stayed on the meds this long because there was anxiety over transition. im very eager to not be as dependent on medication, and only take medication alongside proper therapy (which i will hopefully receive) for mental health and productivity reasons alone.

tldr

this is a life update of sorts to describe where im at and give you an idea of my availability and energy levels. i am feeling very sick. my sleep and eating schedule is fucked up. i am currently putting much of my focus into personal hobbies, relaxing tasks (watching shows, playing games), self care, chores, and fixing some health issues with myself. i was very eager to be more productive and social, and im sorry if i cant be all the time! soon i will have plenty of time and energy to share with yall.

love you guys :] im gonna go watch anime or something

[shesallalone]

Rant I wrote directed towards my mom because I can’t talk to her about it or it will turn into a massive fight, posting it here for therapeutic reasons

11-10-24

I relapsed and she let me and they watched and they turned a blind eye and I begged for there help and i told them I was sick and the things they said hurt and they yelled at me, told me I was a miserable person and that it’s my fault and I just wanted someone to sit with me and talk with me and now I want to get better but they do have the power over me because I love them and the things they say matter and if they didn’t i wouldn’t care for them because that’s just me and how I love. There’s no fixing that, there’s nothing broken about that any more then the way I like to paint or my favorite pair of shoes. Why is it only personality when it’s benefiting their environment, and it’s disease when they can’t find the way to live with me, love me when they don’t understand me.

I understand them. I try too. I feel guilt when I hurt them and listen. I don’t butcher their words. I beat myself up over things I say and actions I regret and I know I’m not a perfect person . But im told to stay quiet and let my emotions overtake me. That’s what I use to do. That was how I lived for so long that all those pent up emotions twisted inside me until my brown was able to convince me I’d not deserved to speak. That if I did anything for myself even eat or shower or buy a shirt that I would need to be punished.

I want my mommy

I want my mommy

I want my mommy

I want my mommy

Why don’t they love me?

Why can’t they see me? I am so deeply sunken in my own love hope to give and it burns me and my skin and my lungs.

I’m not my sickness i am not my worst days but I will become that if all I’m shown is how disappointed they all are by me .

I’m not strong enough to give anymore to this

I am too strong to surrender to the environment and too weak to leave.

I’m sorry please come out and sit with me on the couch and tell me it’s going to be okay.

Please don’t say the words I’ve told you trigger my panic attacks because you have a moment of overstimulation

And please don’t be mad at me for feeling this way anymore. I want you to be happy. I want to be happy but it hurts I understand you i promise and I don’t want you to feel the way you do. I just want to feel proud of my self for something but I can’t. Nothing to me will ever be good enough for me and I think I got that disappointed from you. Please I don’t want to be here on my own anymore. But I can’t trust someone who will love me 1 second and then trigger my relapse the next.

Please please please please please I’m in so much pain please I every day I want to be happy. It’s not about roles or age or anything. We both only have one life please can we comprise so I don’t lose mine because my chest hurts all the time, my teeth are gritted down and soft and my bodies covered in scratches from my own nails I don’t remember giving myself. I can’t go back to 2022 i need you to help me though this I am sorry I know you’re tired and angry at your mother just like me. but I can’t go back 2021 either as much as I want to. No one misses her more then I do although you know it’s hard to believe because you say I’m the only one who has the power to change that, I don’t have that power, I’m drained from the fighting mom please.

I want to eat so bad but I can’t because my body won’t get off the couch and I need to wash it off but it will feel like today is over if I stand before you tell me everything is okay, but the harsh reality is today is over because you’re fast asleep and I need to be at work for my 12 hour shift in 4 hours, no food and no rest and my skin is oily and smells.

Why did I have to grow up?

Why am I so scared to let new people in?

Maybe then I wouldn’t be alone right now. I’d be clean and careless, tucked in my bed with food in my stomach, Ollie curled by my feet. I’d be happy to wake up instead of the dread in my stomach that I know there will have to be morning, who will skip lunch? Who will skip school? Will the dogs be fed? Will I have a ride home? I stumble at work and I make a mistake and I look stupid again. No one thinks I’m capable and I let them condescend me because it wasn’t correct although I knew how to do it.

I don’t know if they actually think I’m stupid or it’s in my head. I go back and forth on what I’ve heard

Mom please stop hurting me. I don’t cry and question to hurt you. I will give you whatever you want. I can’t not worry about other people it’s just how I am please accept me instead of resenting me and then telling me that’s not who I am

It is mom please If it’s not I don’t know who I am and it’s scary and I’m unprepared for living

Because how am I suppose to find a career a partner move out anything if you are telling me these feelings, the way I move the way I love is incorrect, it’s fake, it’s part of my illness when I know what changed after I got sick and I know what parts of me stayed the same just got more verbal and these have been here for a while. I just figured I’d lose them once I grew up. I thought you hated them because they were childish, but it’s not my Childishness. It’s my love, my sense of justice my empathy and you despise me mom I’m sorry if you could understand these are real instead of avoiding them maybe you’ll finally see me and we can be happy

I’m sick of begging for you to love me mom and I know you think you do but ive been happy with you but I’ve never felt loved a full day in my life. And if I told you this right now you’d call me selfish , but I’m not asking you to change, just to stop asking me too. Please. I want you to love me as much as you love my sisters. I’m sorry if you don’t agree with me mom please I’m not making this up it’s how I feel I’m sorry I’m difficult and I’m sorry I got sick so many times in so many ways and it was scary and stressful and I’m sorry I burnt you out and you had to do all those things to help me. Please don’t resent me I’ll do what ever I can.

Please don’t ask me to do things that will cause me to relapse

I hope I’m not still like this in the morning

Please just believe me, please don’t be angry please please please

[swordbeliever]

i am certain that i have this and it’s so frustrating to deal with because quite literally the only thing that makes it a “disorder” is the fact that i am expected to function during hours that don’t work for me. all appointments are scheduled 9am-5pm. grocery stores close at 11pm now. so many of my classes in college that are REQUIRED start before 11 am. i physically cannot be awake at those times!!!

i have tried time and time again to wake up and go to bed at the “right times” and while i can usually do it for 1-2 weeks, eventually i slide back into sleeping from 4-6am and getting up at 12-2pm.

also!!! when i’ve tried to explain this to people and say that i probably have a circadian rhythm disorder they tell me not to self-diagnose and that i need to go to a doctor about it. at the same time as they’re telling me to just do xyz to make sure i can get up at the right time. i was diagnosed with insomnia at one point because i cant fall asleep earlier than 2 am most nights, i have been prescribed sooo many sleeping meds and all they do is make me sleep too much and feel like shit the next day.

my solution to all of this has been getting a night shift job because now at least people understand why i’m tired during the day (“i worked until 4 am last night”) and i’m not seen as a complete waste for staying up this late.

i fucking hate

this is literally just labeling someone’s natural circadian rhythms as disordered.

“may fall asleep later than intended and feel sleepy during the day”

WHAT IF

hear me out

WHAT IF

WE JUST LET PPL LIKE ME W NATURALLY “DELAYED” CIRCADIAN RHYTHMS SLEEP WHEN THEY NATURALLY WANT TO AND STOP FORCING THEM TO CONFORM TO A BULLSHIT CAPITALISM-FUELED NIGHTMARE SCHEDULE!

like!!!!!!!!! WHY is this a DISORDER!!!

i remember during lockdown when i had nothing to do and i just started naturally letting my sleep return to what felt most natural, and that happened to be around 3am-10am ish. and i felt fucking fantastic!!!! i felt the best i’d ever felt!!!!!!

and now i’m back to bullshit trying to knock myself out using nyquil or weed or benadryl so i can wake up at 8am and get to work at 9am which is apparently “late” and i feel like shit all day and can never find the motivation to work on my books!!! during the pandemic i wrote an entire fucking book!!! usually between the hours of 11pm and 3am!!!! and now when i start to feel that itch to write i have to ignore it bc i have to go to bed at a time that feels so unnatural!!!!! fuck!!!!!!!!

i hate everything!!!!!!!!

[gingerontheside]

Ash and I stayed in a Capsule hotel!

Staying in a capsule hotel was one of those quintessential experiences ash and I desperately wanted to try it while in Japan. It seemed so futuristic and out of the ordinary, plus it was pretty cheap, so we saw the perfect opportunity the night before we went to Tokyo Disneyland! (Since neither of us wanted to travel an hour and a half in the morning to get there.)

So off we went to 9 Hour Women in Kanda, a little capsule hotel about an hour away from our dorm and 30 minutes away from Tokyo Disneyland. The online photos seemed promising, it was a women-only hotel, so it seemed like a good choice!

When we entered, we were checked in rather quickly and given a little piece of card stock that would act as our key card to our locker in the locker room. The locker room was right next to the lobby, and our room was on floor 5, so it wasn’t exactly convenient to go from our lockers to our capsule. So, we changed into our provided pajamas (pictured below!)

And we packed all the things we wanted for the night into our little night bag to bring up with us to our capsule and left our change of clothes (both the ones we wore that day and the ones we would wear the next day) in the locker with our baggage and shoes.

Also, I should mention, since the “key card” was a thin piece of card stock, mine actually FELL INTO SOMEONE ELSE’S LOCKER. trying to explain that … was a struggle I allowed Ash to take since she knows more Japanese than me.

And up we went to our capsule. On floor 5, we were capsules 504 and 505. I was in the bottom capsule, and Ash was in the top capsule. I’ll include a picture of what the capsule hall looked like:

And this is what my actual “room” looked like

As we crept into the hall, the hall itself was pretty dang quiet. Ash and I settled into our own capsules and I began to watch a little TV on my laptop, but since it was so quiet and dark I already felt like falling asleep around 10 pm. But I didn’t. I chose to wait until around midnight to fall asleep.

This was my big mistake.

At around 12:45 AM, the capsule hall suddenly came to life. People began shifting around, dragging rolling suitcases, clattering, and generally being loud. And here’s the issue: the capsules were made entirely of plastic, and the ‘door’ to your capsule was just a little piece of fabric you would pull over the entrance. So, ash and I could hear EVERYTHING. I have awoken abruptly, and pretty much stayed awake the entire rest of the night as the people in our capsule hall refused to quiet down and settle in. And; even if they had fallen asleep, someone was snoring SOOO loud. It was actually infuriating.

Combine this, with the fact that the blanket we were given was noisy as hell, the pillow was hard and the capsule was hot, came together to make sure that neither ash nor I got a wink of sleep the entire night. According to ash, who was on the top bunk, every time someone climbed the ladder to get into their capsule the entire top row of capsules would shake.

After hopelessly lying in my capsule for hours, someone in the hall’s alarm went off around 4:30 to 5 am. Then everyone around us began to wake up and pack up and leave, which further kept Ash and me awake. Then, around 8:30 am, the lights in the capsule hall flipped on, so now it’s not even remotely dark in the capsule.

Ash and I slept for as much as we could, which was not much, then dragged our sorry butts out of bed to go down to the locker room to change for the day. It was crowded in the locker room, and changing and moving around in there was so hard, so it took a lot longer to get ready than I like to give myself credit for usually taking.

Overall, staying in a capsule hotel was … an experience. Would I do it again? Absolutely not, not unless soundproofing was guaranteed.

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 16

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 16

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~3100 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost…

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9   Part 10   Part 11   Part 12   Part 13   Part 14  Part 15

gif credit: @benbarnxs

Part 16

You were straddling Billy, riding him, your hips undulating atop his body. His fingers tightly gripped your waist, getting ready to take charge so you were underneath him, but you refused to submit. Instead you grabbed his hands and pinned it above his head. As you hovered above him, he arched up to kiss you but you shifted back, instead staring down at him intently. He growled at you before he rolled over unexpectedly, taking you along with him.

As he thrust into you, harder and rougher each time, you began to slide off the bed. In your new position, you caught sight of Adam on the floor. His corpse was wrapped up in a rug, only his head sticking out-

“Hey.” Billy pulled you up so you were now sitting across his lap, facing him. “Look at me. Only me.”

Only a few seconds ago he was biting you as you clawed at him, both of you desperate to possess each other. Your movements had been savage, animalistic even, but now Billy was kissing you languidly, his hand brushing the back of your hair while the other settled on the small of your back. You were directing the rhythm of the thrusts now, setting a slower pace so you could fully enjoy the feel of his cock stretching your insides oh-so-tantalizingly. Your forehead braced against his, you closed your eyes and lost yourself to the flood of emotions that overcame you.

***

It was after midnight. Billy had come home with you and both of you were in bed, you nestled against him while he spooned you from behind. Even though you were tired, you couldn’t sleep. Your brain was working overtime processing everything that happened in the last few hours. He stirred next to you, dropping a tender kiss on your bare shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured. You may have been fully alert but he sounded absolutely exhausted.

“Are you sure they’ll be thorough with the cleaning?”

“Yeah.” Throwing his arm over you, he covered your hand with his. “These guys are not amateurs. They know what they’re doing. There won’t be any traces of us left in that room.”

“And Adam’s body-”

“Will be disposed of.”

“But how do you know you can trust these guys? What’s stopping them from blackmailing-”

“’cause money talks, babe. That crew is very well paid.” He squeezed your palm. “I’ve used them in the past. No trouble yet.”

With his military career you were already aware of his violent past, but you also sensed he had a long hit list aside from that. When he’d realized your plans for Adam, he hadn’t been remotely shocked at the idea of you killing another person. In fact, as you stabbed Adam repeatedly, Billy had looked at you with such pride and reverence that it had left you breathless.

“What we did tonight, you know what that means, don’t you?”

His voice brought you out of your reverie. You exhaled a deep breath, drawing circles on his palm. “That we’re bad people.”

“No, we’re survivors. We take down anyone who gets in our way.”

“He didn’t come after you,” you reminded him. “You didn’t have to get involved.”

He turned you around to face him. “Nobody threatens you and gets to live after that.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. When he looked at you with such intensity, you were almost ready to believe anything.

He cradled your face, his thumb caressing your bottom lip. “We’re connected now. Forever. Because of tonight.”

You didn’t understand how his words could evoke such conflicting emotions within you. On one hand your stomach fluttered with excitement, he was saying things you’d wanted to hear for a long time, but then there was the fear. Doubt. Uncertainty. You forced a smile, hoping some levity would lighten the situation. “You make it sound like we’re married or something.”

Disgust flooded over his face. “Fuck, no. Marriages end. One day you’re bragging about being in love, next it’s all over. It’s not based on anything real. But we are.” He reached for your hand, which was resting on the pillow between you and him, and intertwined his fingers through yours. “I saw you tonight, the real you. And you saw me. No pretenses, no boundaries. And you didn’t run. You didn’t even flinch.”

“Neither did you.” You lifted your eyebrow. “You were rock hard.”

“I always am around you.”

His words made the heat rise in your cheeks, which he noticed right away. Giving you a teasing smile, he leaned in closer to give you a peck on the cheek. “Are you blushing?”

“Shut up.”

Billy’s eyes remained locked on you, simply staring at you with sleepy eyes. “I don’t like who I was when I thought I lost you. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t work. Every time I closed my eyes I imagined you fucking this other guy, kissing him. Even the thought of you talking to him made me want to burn it all down.”

Your heart ached at how tired he looked. Scooting closer, you started massaging his forehead. When he closed his eyes, you dropped a gentle kiss on each of his eyelids, the beauty mark just below his right eye, before snuggling him tightly in your arms. “Sleep, Billy.”

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” he murmured drowsily.

You smiled. “It is my apartment.”

He didn’t respond, already fast asleep. You tried to do the same but couldn’t; there were too many thoughts running around in your brain. You had assumed you’d feel guilty about taking a life; you didn’t. You remembered the vicious, contemptuous anger in Adam’s eyes when he’d held you at gunpoint, and how he’d threatened to kill others in your team, and all you felt was relief. Relief that he was dead and no longer a danger to you.

Billy stirred next to you, drawing your attention. You reached out to hold him, your touch feather-light so as not to wake him up. He looked calm and peaceful, unlike the haunted and distraught way he appeared earlier in the hotel room. It was still hard to digest that he’d been so unhinged at the thought of losing you. But the thing that resonated with you the most was that he hadn’t been able to hurt you despite all of the anger he’d felt. Growing up the way you had, you were always on alert for things to turn violent at any moment. One wrong comment or an innocent gesture - hell even a lone pair of sock on the floor - had the potential to trigger your father’s temper and turn things violent. During those moments his rage was uncontrollable, and as a result you always worried about how people reacted when they were furious. The fact that Billy hadn’t hit you even though he’d been completely enraged made you realize you were physically safe with him.

Maybe emotionally as well. For so long you’d had difficulty believing he could reciprocate your feelings yet you couldn’t ignore how devastated he’d been. Nor could you rationalize away his emotions. It still felt surreal but he did truly care about you, and the thought filled you with warmth and made your heart soar with happiness.

You brushed your lips against his, hoping Billy’s comforting presence next to you would help you relax. However, fifteen minutes later sleep still alluded you. Eventually you decided to do something useful and work instead. Carefully sliding out of bed so you didn’t disturb him, you tip-toed out of the bedroom. Immediately you felt the soreness in your body, an after effect of the rough sex you had with Billy in the hotel room earlier. Grabbing a nearby throw, you were soon nestled in your favourite spot on the chaise lounge, working away on your laptop.

An hour later you heard footsteps behind you and you turned around to find Billy yawning, clad in boxers, his hair all ruffled.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” he grumbled.

You scooted over to give him space to sit on the chaise but he seemed to have other ideas in mind as he took a seat behind you. You found yourself settled between his legs, your back nestled against his chest, as he caressed down the length of your arms.

“I couldn’t sleep. Figured I might as well do something useful.”

“What corporate shit are you working on?” he teased, playfully grabbing your laptop to look at your screen. You smacked his arm right away, shutting the screen and pushing the laptop away.

Billy purposely rubbed his face against the base of your neck and you started giggling at the sensation of his prickly beard on your bare skin. “Stop,” you whined. “It tickles.” you squealed loudly, trying to jump out of his arms but he held you in a tight grip.

Finally he stopped, and as you struggled to catch your breath, you slapped his arm playfully. “You’re such a jerk.”

He chuckled, hugging you tightly from behind. “That’s for ignoring all my calls since Tuesday.”

“I’m still not unblocking your number,” you retorted. His beard scraped along your shoulder, making you squeal again. “Okay, fine. Sorry!”

“Swear that you’re not gonna block me again.”

You turned around in his arms, resting on your knees as your arms looped around his neck. Smiling down at him, you nuzzled your nose with his. “Swear that you won’t act like an asshole again.”

“Can’t really do that.”

“Exactly.” He tucked your hair behind your ear. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the tender affection on his face, the warmth of his gaze spreading slow, languid heat throughout your body. “You should go back to bed. You still look tired.”

“I’ve had a rough week.”

You pouted your lips. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Want to make it up to me?” he asked, cocking his eyebrow at you.

”How? By sucking you off?” you teased, running your fingers through his hair.

“Move in with me.”

Your hands stilled on him, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. At first you thought he was joking but the solemn expression on his face made you realize otherwise. You moved away, putting much needed distance between the two of you.

“That’s not funny, Billy.”

Maintaining a rigid posture on the chaise lounge, he shrugged his shoulders. “Not meant to be. I’m dead serious.”

“You know that’s ridiculous, right?”

“Why? ‘cause I wanna keep you safe?”

“The threat is gone. I took care of it.”

“We took care of it,” he said pointedly. “A threat which you didn’t even tell me about.”

“I explained that to you already.” Feeling defensive, you started pacing the floor. “You promised you’d have your guy stop tailing me.”

“Sure. As soon as I know you’re not gonna keep things from me again. You moving in will help with that.”

“So if I don’t move in, you’ll have me followed 24/7?” Anger surged through you, you were so furious you wanted to scream. “That’s fucking blackmail.”

“Relax. No need to be so dramatic about it.”

You grabbed the closest cushion you had and flung it at him, enraged by his patronising tone. “We barely know each other-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he interjected, finally moving to stand up. His eyes were pitch black, his jaw clenched. “You and I killed someone tonight! You took my hand, my knife, and we stabbed the bastard in the heart with it, together. We fucked while he drew his last breath and now you’re feeding me this bullshit?” He stormed towards you. “No! I’ve seen your darkness and you’ve seen mine. There’s no one else in this world that knows us better than we know each other.”

You shook your head, flabbergasted by his reaction. “This is insane. I can’t move in with you. We haven’t even gone out on a real date because you said I was boring!”

“If you believe that then you really are a fucking idiot!”

You stiffened, his words ringing in your ear. Fucking idiot. Something your father used to call you repeatedly, his tone full of hate and vitriol when he lashed out at you. It started with a fucking idiot then spiralled into bitch and whore and everything else hurtful under the sun. You swore to yourself you’d never accept being spoken to like that by another person yet here you were, being insulted again by someone who was supposed to care about you.

You retreated back from Billy, careful to keep your distance from him, and leveled him with a cold glance. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again.” 

Your voice may have been deceptively calm but there was a storm brewing inside you. You desperately needed some space. As you moved away from Billy and headed to the kitchen, he tried to block your path but you immediately pushed him away. “Don’t touch me!”

You quickly sidestepped past him and entered the kitchen, heading for the cabinet where you kept your bottle of whiskey. Pouring yourself a glass, you slowly sipped the liquid to soothe your frayed nerves and forget the memories Billy had just unleashed in you.

***

Even as the words left his mouth, Billy knew he’d made a mistake. He regretted what he said instantly, even more so when he realized how much the words had stung you. The last thing he wanted was to cause you pain but he couldn’t seem to help himself. The more he tried to hold on to you the more you slipped through his fingers.

After giving you a few minutes to calm down, he entered the kitchen behind you. You were standing in the opposite corner, drinking the hard stuff, which further signalled how shaken you were. Billy knew Scotch wasn’t something you enjoyed, you only drank it when you were messed up.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have said that. It won’t happen again. I swear.”

You didn’t acknowledge him, and it hurt like hell.

“When I think about you pulling away from me, it makes me lose my mind.” He swallowed audibly, desperately trying to get through to you. “I’m all in when it comes to us but it feels like you always have one foot out the door.” He took hesitant steps towards you while your eyes still remained on the countertop, refusing to meet his gaze. “I keep fucking up but I’ve never felt this way before. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just can’t lose you, Y/N.”

“I’m not built like you, Billy,” you finally spoke, turning to look at him. “I have doubts. I’m constantly dealing with insecurities. It takes me time to trust people, and I just can’t rush into things head-on.”

“And I’m someone who hustles. I go after everything I want with guns blazing. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have Anvil.”

“But I’m not a thing, Billy. I’m a person, and you can’t push me into doing stuff I’m not ready for.”

He exhaled a resigned sigh. “I know. It’s ‘cause I get paranoid when it comes to you. You’re a closed book and you never tell me anything.” His eyes scanned yours, his stomach clenched with anxiety. “I don’t even know how you feel about me.” It was the first time he’d voiced that thought, something he didn’t even realize he felt until this very moment. You wanted him, that he knew, and you’d even confessed you loved him once but he didn’t really believe in that bullshit. What mattered to him was if you needed him as much as he did you. The idea of not having you in his life drove him insane, but did you feel the same way? He didn’t think so and it bothered the fuck out of him.

You set your glass down on the counter before reaching out to cradle his face, your soulful eyes meeting his emotional gaze. “I want to be with you, Billy. I like you so much that it scares me.”

Your words brought with them a tidal wave of relief that swept over him like a calm breeze. It was like he could breathe again. He pulled you close, his forehead against yours as he simply held you. “Don’t be scared, babe. I don’t bite.”

“That is a complete fucking lie,” you retorted. “I still have the marks from earlier to prove it.” Your smile faded again as you held his stare. “But I need you to be patient with me. You can’t bully me or get mad if I don’t want to rush into things.”

He nodded his head. “I won’t.”

“I’ve only ever had myself to rely on. And the thought of trusting you? Relying on you? It scares the hell out of me. Because there’s always a voice in my head that’s reminding me I need to go back to being alone when we end things.”

“I need to kill that voice.”

You chuckled, reaching out to loop your arms behind his back. “It shuts up eventually. It did in the hotel room when I saw how fucked up you were without me. That’s when it sunk in you actually do like me.”

“It took you that long to believe it?”

You gave him a sad smile. “Yeah. You did tell me I was boring.”

He groaned right away, regret washing over him. He should never have said those fucking words to you. “You’re not boring. You’re smart. And hot.” He kissed your left cheek. “And sweet. And funny. And mine.” Then the right cheek. “And when you lecture me about cybersecurity, I get so hard.”

“Whatever. You’re the one who wanted to know more about the topic,” you grumbled.

He grinned, giving you a tender peck on the lips. “I can listen to you talk for hours and hours-“

“Shut up.” You pressed your palm over his mouth.

Wrapping his arms around you, he lifted you off the ground and started carrying you back to the bedroom. “Forever actually, if you’re naked.”

“Not once have I lectured you naked.”

He dropped you on the bed. “Yeah, exactly. Time you start.” He jumped into bed, rubbing his beard on your face again as you started squealing.

A few minutes later you were both panting for air, staring up at the ceiling. “Just to make it clear, I’m not moving in,” you huffed through laboured breaths.

He turned to look at you, smirking. “Fine, but I’m taking you out tonight. Proper date and all.”

The most beautiful smile graced your face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You were a ray of sunshine beaming up at him and Billy’s heart felt so full he worried it would explode. If he could, he’d freeze this moment forever.

Part 17

A/N - As always, your wonderful feedback is what keeps me inspired to write and post consistently. I was initially nervous about this chapter because the characters experience a gamut of emotions but it was necessary. I hope you like and enjoy this chapter. Feedback, as always, is very much appreciated and feeds my soul :)

Tag list:

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[screechingnewt]

Dozed for 3.5 hours, tossed and turned the whole time. Too warm.

Fully woke myself up after an especially firm repositioning when I rose enough from sleep to recognize the illogic of the dream I was having. I tried to search for something new to dream about and woke myself up in the process.

The dream before had been haphazard, disjointed, something loosely tied to hermitcraft but more to the forming of the cubes and prisms that make up a minecraft skin - how to fold a player into existence out of paper. (a remnant from one of the projects I spent the last 3 days stressing over for class). In the background of it all, Leith Ross' voice; "I recently learned / I can't relax and I'm scared of myself / Scared for my health" & "It helps to remember I took generations to make." (I've been listening to the song recently, yes, but I fell asleep listening to the Cavetown cover of Paul by Big Thief on repeat).

The dream was disjointed and echoed back my recent stress, but at least I was dreaming.

I am wide awake, again.

My troubles with sleep don't usually extend to staying there, unless you consider the warm drag of oversleeping on days when you want to be up earlier but don't have anything forcing you to be. My alarm's off switch is most familiar with a version of me that is dismissive and uncaring and already turning to fall back into bed.

Now though, I'm the tired eyes, mildly fuzzy mind of not enough sleep that I associate with that last semester of attending any in-person classes and working overnights at the library during finals week. Making it through those few shifts on sipping energy drinks and working on final projects and chatting with my coworkers, us eagerly leaning forward to look out the glass-house of a lobby when the sun started to rise, signaling the approach of the next shift and our release home to bed. My sleep schedule got so messed up in that week, I once heard a bird chirp at 5pm and thought "oh, the sun must be rising. Already??" Before realizing it was the middle of the afternoon.

It's almost 6am now and I hear my parents talking on the other side of the house. Dad will leave for work soon, and maybe I'll manage to fall back to sleep for a few hours, once I put this down and force my brain to stop, just for a bit. It's not even like my thoughts are racing or like I have much on my mind besides this stream of consciousness mess that will grace the internet (though, now I do, as I remember all the things on my to-do list today). But this has always been part of that "can't fall asleep" thing I mentioned before.

As a baby, my parents would draw their hands down my face three times to put me to sleep, force my eyes to close. It doesn't work anymore. Not in the way they talk about at least, like some magic cure. Like my eyelids were a genies' lamp, thrice touched. I don't know if I wish it did or not.

Or, maybe it would work, if someone else did it as I was on the cliffs edge of sleep. Maybe there is a magic to it that is circumstantial and that I cannot perform on myself. Maybe the magic came from being so young and trusting my parents' hands in a way that I lost once they stopped being able to hold me. Once they lost the ability to block out the whole world with a touch. Or maybe just when they stopped being close enough to see me struggling with it.

I cannot help but think now of that conversation my mom and I had about my sleeping habits as a kid. I stopped napping when I was 3 months old, but I'd go down for 12 hours overnight. My parents would wake up in the middle of the night to hear me playing with toys in my crib - not needing anything, "self soothing." Then the sounds would die off and I'd fall asleep again until morning.

Now it's morning, and I don't know if I'll be able to fall back to sleep again.

My head aches and it feels... warranted.

I was completely 'on' for.. probably close to 12 hours straight. Maybe longer even, I don't remember.

I'm alright, but I kind of feel like throwing up. Not sure why.

The hurt in my head is making itself known in my teeth now too. And even though it's just from the headache, I am suddenly reminded of that Ezra Furman song, "My Teeth Hurt," and just as quickly of the line "Are you ready for another bad poem?" from that one Fall Out Boy song and I genuinely have no idea how one led to the other.

The lowest volume on my headphones was too loud, so I switched. I forgot that something about the adapter on this other pair makes the sound randomly get so quiet it can't be heard for brief moments before going back to normal. I don’t know why.

I don't know a lot of things, but I know the random stops in the music aren't helping the nausea. Not sure why they're connected. Like I said, there's a lot I don't know.

I know I'm tired and I want to sleep so bad but the act of falling asleep and I have always had a rocky relationship. My mom and I were talking about it recently. She identified it as a part of me that has always been this way. She also said I won't be swayed once I set my mind to something.. or something like that - I don't remember how she phrased it, but I'm stubborn once I'm set on something (that one surprised me to hear but the more I think about it the more I see the truth in it, and I immediately thought of an example as the words left her mouth). The last thing she listed was how much I hate change - I've known this though. Even when the change is good, its just so hard. (maybe that's why I struggle to fall asleep)

[boyfriendsmalec]

Always Hungry for You

Post Episode 12. Canon compliant.

It was one of those rare mornings where Pran actually slept in. He had to work late into the night, finishing up on his final revisions to a building plan, so he allowed himself to sleep in for once, groaning when Pat pressed messy kisses to his hair before getting out of bed.

He roused hours later to the smell of frying bacon and crossed his fingers that their apartment wasn’t about to be burned down. He laid there, half-asleep until Pat greeted him with a tray full of food.

“Good morning,” Pat trilled. Pran gave him his best grumpy look. “Aw, baby, c’mon wake up. It’s almost eleven.”

“Eleven?” Pran grumbled, shifting and accepting the tray of food. “Hmm you didn’t burn it this time.”

“I have the best teacher,” Pat said, grabbing Pran’s fork and cutting him a bit of pancake, holding it out to him. Pran let out a laugh, leaning forward to take a bite, before Pat pulled it away last second, taking the pancake for himself. As Pat chewed, Pran whined and tried to grab the fork out of Pat’s hand.

“Ai'Pat, that's mine,” Pran complained.

“Hey, I didn’t eat because I wanted to wait for you,” Pat pouted, holding the fork just out of reach. “And I made the food, I deserve a bite. It’s the boyfriend tax.”

“Fiancé tax,” Pran corrected automatically.

It was still new, the ring still felt like a strange but welcome weight on his finger. It’d been only five days ago. And what a five days it’d been. They’d been celebrating their fresh engagement by christening the apartment for a second time over a series of days – hence why Pran was almost late on his deadline last night.

“Ah yes,” Pat’s eyes brightened. “So sorry, my fiancé.” Pat leaned forward, pressing a sticky syrup kiss to Pran’s lips. Pran pulled back, licking at his lips thoughtfully.

“Not bad,” Pran set the tray to the side. “But I’d like another taste.”

Pran leaned forward, grabbing onto Pat’s head and kissed him thoroughly, tasting the sweet syrup on Pat’s tongue. And… something smoky. Bacon? And something bitter. A hint of coffee.

“Liar, you already ate without me,” Pran mumbled.

“Hm, well I feel quite starved right now,” Pat whispered, crawling on top of Pran, between his spread legs.

“Well I’m famished,” Pran’s eyes shined and Pat snapped, whipping his t-shirt over his head before Pran tackled him, knocking them off the bed and onto the floor.

Somewhere in the next half hour the breakfast tray had somehow fallen to the ground, leaving a huge mess, and Pran and Pat ended up back in bed, naked, chests heaving, lips swollen and necks blossoming an array of love bites.

“You happy with your breakfast?” Pat asked, and Pran smirked.

“Happy it lasted more than five minutes–”

Pat swatted at his chest.

“Hey!”

“Fine, yes,” Pran sighed, before stretching out his arms over his head. “But I really need to have something else in my stomach other than your–” Pran glanced down at Pat’s lower half, stopping himself short.

“Guess it’s not the most nutritious breakfast,” Pat admitted with a smug look. “Well I guess I can just heat up leftovers for us.”

“You do that,” Pran sighed, as Pat leaned over to press a warm kiss to his temple. “I guess I’ll clean up our actual breakfast.”

“Mm, no, you just sit and relax. I will take care of you today,” Pat said.

“Haven’t you already?” Pran smirked.

“I already did. Twice.”

“Pat–”

“Wanna go for three times?”

“Pat I am actually starving, and will eat Nong Nao if you don’t–”

“You would never–”

Pran grabbed Nong Nao from the bedside table and pretended to bite on the doll’s little arm. Pat wailed and tugged the doll from Pran's grasp.

“Don’t eat our child, Pran!”

“Then make me something to eat or I won’t be taking care of that again–” Pran made a point to gesture to Pat’s lower half – “for a week.”

Pat looked aghast. “You would never.”

“I waited a year before, Pat. I can wait a week.”

“Back then we had phone sex three times a week–”

“Pat–”

“Okay, okay! I’m going!” Pat groaned, getting up, and leaving Nong Nao back on the nightstand. “Behave yourself.”

“That’s my line,” Pran huffed as he got up, rummaging around for a pair of boxers. The first one he found was a pair of Pat’s but he put them on anyway.

He was only halfway through deciding on what shirt to wear when he heard a knock resound from their front door.

“Pat? Pran?”

Pran saw Pat freeze.

Four voices echoed from outside that door.

Their parents.

It had taken until fairly recently for their parents to start openly accepting their relationship. They had even seemed pleased by the news of their recent engagement. But why were they here? Now?

“Get dressed,” Pran hissed, as he threw on whatever was closest to him. One of Pat’s shirts, a pair of his own shorts. He kicked the breakfast tray and the scattered pieces of bacon and eggs to the side and bolted to the mirror to check his hair.

He looked well and truly fucked. Literally.

“Shia Pat! I told you not to leave hickeys on my neck anymore!”

Pat stumbled around, grabbing items out of the dirty clothes hamper and shoving them on.

“Sorry! I wasn’t thinking straight–”

“Clearly,” Pran groaned, running his hands through his hair. He snapped off his shirt and shrugged on a new shirt with the highest possible collar he could find.

“Pat! Pran! You in?” Pran’s dad called. "I see Pat's car parked out front!"

“Just a minute!” Pran shouted back, rearranging his hair into place before he went over to Pat, smoothing out the lines in his t-shirt, and righting his hair into place.

“I mean worst comes to worst, our parents know we have a healthy sex life,” Pat said in an attempt to soothe Pran.

“I don’t want our parents to think about us having sex at all.”

“We’re getting married of course they know we have sex–”

“But they don’t need the evidence of it in front of them!”

“Guys?” Pat’s mom this time.

“Coming!” Pat shouted.

“You won’t be coming for a long time after what you did to my neck,” Pran grumbled while Pat jutted out his lower lip.

Finally looking respectable enough, Pran went forward to greet their parents at the door.

But when they entered, Pran’s sex brain couldn’t shut itself off. Because now his parents were sitting on the couch that he had rode Pat on just three days ago, and Pat’s parents were by the kitchen counter, where Pran had bent Pat over on two days ago, and then Pran’s mom was admiring and running her finger across the coffee table that Pat had laid on when Pran sucked him off just yesterday and Pran really couldn’t take it anymore.

Pat’s father moved to lean against the glass door that led to their balcony and Pran’s mind was filled with the memory of their engagement night. Of Pat lifting him against the door, rutting against him, first Pat’s fingers inside him and then his—

“Pran, honey, you look a little pale. Are you okay?” Pat’s mom. Pran forced a smile.

“Yeah, it’s just that we weren’t expecting you guys. Would you like anything to drink. Tea? Water?” Pran managed to put on a neutral expression and Pat stood at his side, gripping his hand tight. They both weren’t used to showing affection in front of their parents, but Pran appreciated the comfort of Pat’s touch right now more than anything.

“No, it's fine. I'm sure you're both wondering why we dropped by. And it's just... We just… we started talking,” Dissaya started, looking back at Ming, he was hanging out in the kitchen, head kept low. “And we decided we want to offer to fully pay for your wedding.”

Pat looked at Pran, eyes wide in shock.

“And your honeymoon too–” Pran’s father continued. “Wherever you want."

“I heard Australia is very nice for honeymoons–” Pat’s mom cut in. “Or maybe you want to go to Europe. The Greek Isles would be lovely after a summer wedding.”

“We’re having a spring wedding,” Pat told her, fingers still tight around Pran’s.

And Pran – shit he felt like crying. Because was this actually happening? Were his and Pat’s parents actually offering to pay for their wedding and honeymoon? Surely this wasn’t reality.

And it wasn’t just about the money. It was about the sentiment behind it all.

“And if you ever need a down payment on a house–” Ming cleared his throat. “Don’t hesitate to ask.”

Pran noticed Pat’s jaw clench out of the corner of his eye.

“We’re quite happy here,” Pran said. “But thank you. We will let you know in the future.”

“You’ll need a bigger place if you want to have kids,” Pat’s mom said. “I mean – only if that’s what you both want.”

“We do,” Pat said, his voice as tight as his grip on Pran’s fingers. “One day.”

“Well I'm glad to hear that,” Dissaya smiled, and Pran was feeling himself crumbling. "I can't wait to have grandchildren someday."

“Let the wedding happen first, Ma,” Pran laughed. “We want to wait until our thirties before having kids.”

“That’s what Ming and I said too,” Pat’s mom laughed. “But then oops– we had not one, but two.”

Pran had to bite his tongue to refrain from saying that with him and Pat there wouldn’t be any surprise pregnancies. But again, the last thing he wanted was for either of their parents to in any way think about them having sex.

Thankfully, their parents didn’t stay too much longer, though both Pat and Pran's mom’s left them with platters of food.

Pat and Pran happily slurped at their gifted noodles, relieved to not have been caught by their parents. And also still processing the news put before them.

Their parents accepted them now. Fully. Even if Dissaya and Ming were still awkward and stilted around each other. They were trying for them. And it really meant the world.

Somehow through it all they made it through. To this moment. From a childhood rivalry, to secret friends, to boyfriends, to lovers, to husbands-to-be.

Pat and Pran's rings shined in the sunlight that poured into their apartment.

“Do you remember our first time?”

Pran startled, not expecting that question. “What?”

“You don’t?” Pat whined.

Pran laughed, offended. “Of course, I do. How could I ever forget our beach honeymoon.”

They hadn’t gone all the way that time – that had been later, in Pran’s room a couple days after. They weren’t sure exactly what they preferred at the time. Pran had decided he wanted to see what it was like to have Pat inside him first.

It hadn’t exactly gone well.

Pat scrambled to get a condom on, hands so slippery with lube that it almost didn't go on, and he barely thrusted into Pran five times before he came inside him and Pran laughed into his pillow for the next hour as Pat pouted, saying it wasn’t fair because Pran was too hot for his own good.

Pat had challenged him that he couldn’t do better, and Pran took him up on that challenge, flipping their positions. Turns out Pran did have better stamina. Though admittedly he hadn’t lasted as long as he would’ve hoped. He immediately understood why Pat had come so quickly after he was inside Pat for the first time.

It was a lot, a lot.

“I knew there was no going back after our first time.”

Pran smiled. “So I’m that good in bed, huh?”

Their actual first time had been even more stumbling and fumbling around. They didn’t know what they were doing, both never having gone this far with anyone before. Pat got his head stuck in his shirt and Pran's boxers somehow kept getting tangled around his ankles as Pat tried to shove them off.

They had rutted against each other for what felt like hours, and after coming down from their first high, they went at it again. Hands on each other this time. And then again. Mouths on each other.

Pran made Pat come five times over the span of that night. Three times with his mouth alone. Pran’s jaw still ached from the memory. He had to ice his jaw the next day while fielding embarrassing questions from Uncle Tong and Yod.

“It wasn’t just about the sex,” Pat laughed. “I just never knew what it’d be like to feel so… so connected to someone like that before. And I knew I never wanted to experience something like that with anyone else.”

Pran’s eyes softened. “I’m glad you were my first.”

“I’m glad you were mine.”

“I’m glad you’re my only.”

“Me too.”

“Well, except for that one time with Wai–” Pran joked.

Pat scowled, sticking out his tongue, pinching at Pran’s thigh. “Don’t you dare even put that image in my mind.”

“Believe me, I don’t even want that image in mine,” Pran shuddered and Pat smiled then.

“You just like me when I get jealous.”

“I do not–” Pran scoffed.

“Yes, you do. You like when I’m possessive,” Pat leaned forward, finger skating over the love bite at the corner of Pran’s collar.

“Pat, I’m actually hungry right now,” Pran groaned, though he couldn’t stop the thrill it sent through him. Just Pat’s fingertips. That’s all it took.

“Then eat up, my dumpling,” Pat tutted, lifting a dumpling up to Pran’s mouth. “Because I have plans for you today.”

“Oh do you?” Pran raised an eyebrow. “So do I.”

Pat’s eyes flashed. “You go first.”

“Let's finish eating first,” Pran said, leaning forward and taking the dumpling from Pat, swallowing it hard. “Patience is a virtue.”

“But I’m not a pious man, Pran,” Pat whined.

“Lucky for you, neither am I,” Pran said, with a glint in his eye, before knocking the food to the side, grabbing Pat and pinning him against the kitchen counter, leaping up until Pat’s back was on the counter, and Pran’s legs were straddled around his waist.

“We’re not in a porno, Pran–” Pat said, but his lust-blown pupils betrayed his words. “Sex on the kitchen countertop? Again?”

“What can I say? You make me hungry.”

And Pran dived in for a taste.

[hotch-stufff]

hiii 47 and 7 for angst hotch

i love ur writing btw <3

Drunk

gif by hoe-tchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Warnings!: mentions of abuse, stalking, and death, past abusive relationships, normal criminal minds things, angst, crying, pining, but a fluffy ending

Promtps: Angst #7 "Are you drunk?", Angst #47 "You flinched"

Author's Note: Thank you so much <3, hope you enjoy reading!!

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

In hindsight, it probably wasn’ the best idea to get drunk at a bar. Especially alone. But you weren’t exactly thinking straight when you had stepped off the jet after a long case. And it had been a LONG case. Nearly a week of going through the same evidence over and over again scouring for a lead. Finally finding a lead, and coming to a dead end. 

The eventual lead that you did catch, led to the unsub already standing over her next victim’s body. At least you got a full confession. But you had been the one that had found the unsub. If that wasn’t enough, this case had already been hitting way too close to home. 

A woman was murdering victims of domestic abuse to “save them” because her mom was never “saved” from her father’s abuse. She had grown up watching it. Her victims had all had y/h/c hair, with y/e/c eyes. The same height as you, same style, just overall very similar. The only difference the team saw had been that you were never abused. At least that was what your file had said.

You had been able to keep it on the low for as long as you had been at the BAU. But you were terrified one of them would figure it out. That you would flinch at the wrong time, or you would do something to give it away.

You had gotten lucky and no one seemed suspicious. You ended up hiding in the back of the jet, curled up. No one bothered you. They all assumed that the case had just hit you harder. The one thing you hadn’t known though was that Hotch had been keeping a very close eye on you.

You two had become close, and would often hang out at each other's apartments. Spending tjme just talking about nothing and everything for hours. He had quickly become one of your best friends. You always went to him when you were upset.

But tonight, you just needed to get away.

Which is how you found yourself in this bar, downing your fifth drink. In the back of your mind, you knew that you wouldn't be able to drive home, or even walk without tripping over your own feet. You needed to call someone, and your drunk self called Hotch. While the phone rang you checked the time. 3 am. He was going to kill you.

“Hotchner.” You giggled drunkenly at his formal response.

“Why so serious bossman?” He recognized your voice immediately. 

“Y/n? Are you okay?” 

“M’great. Havin a blast.” You slurred.

“Are you drunk?” He asked and you giggled again.

“Mayyybe.” You slurred, concerning Hotch even more.

"Where are you?”

“Mabel's I think. But let me tell you. I think you need to come get me because there is no way m’drivin home.” He huffed as you heard noise coming from the phone.

“I'm on my way, stay there!” But you hung up. You were so excited to see him. Truth was you had definitely developed a crush for the man. Telling him that was going to be difficult, mainly because of your past, but also because he was your boss, and about 12 years older than you.

You waited for about 10 minutes before you heard the door ring as it opened and Hotch ran inside, frantically searching around. He found you and was quickly at your side.

“Y/n, are you okay?” You nodded sleepily. You always did get sleepy after your sixth drink. He gave you a concerned glance before reaching for your arm. You flinched slightly, but Hotch didn’t say anything about it. He picked you up because there was no way that you could walk, and carried you out to his car. 

“You’re staying with me tonight.” He had said once on the road. You lazily watched  out the window as buildings went by. 

“M’kay.” You mumbled. Hotch sent you another concerned glance. Something was wrong, but he couldn't quite figure out what. Usually when a case hit you hard, you would spend the night talking with him. He had been surprised when you hadn't shown up at his apartment. Even more shocked when you had called him drunk. He cared about you and it hurt him to see you like this.

Soon he found himself pulling into his driveway. He parked and quickly ran to your side of the car to help you out. He opened your door, and reached his hand over to unbuckle you when suddenly you shifted back. Your arms came up as if to block a blow and a whimper escaped your lips. 

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I promise!” You let out, sounding much more sober now. Hotch stood there dumbfounded, not knowing what to do. 

“Y/n, it’s me, can you hear me, its Aaron?” You moved your arms from your face, peeking out wide eyed. You pulled your arms the rest of the way down. 

“Sorry Hotch. That was just, um, that w-was-” But he cut you off.

“You flinched.” He paused looking at the tears in your eyes, realizing that he needed to get you inside before you broke down in the car. “C’mon, let's go inside.” You bowed your head and nodded. 

“Okay.” You said softly. He helped you out of his car slowly, and walked you up to his apartment. Once there, you plopped on his couch, sobering up for the conversation you knew was going to happen. He walked in the room, a glass of water in hand. He handed it to you, sitting next to you. he waited a few moments before beginning the inevitable conversation.

“Y/n, why did you flinch?” He asked hesitantly. He didn't want to push you, but he was concerned and he wanted to know. So you told him. Every detail, every heartbreaking moment. The bruises, the scars, the hospital trips. Everything. The reports, the disbelief, the arrest, the divorce. Then the even worse parts. The escape, the stalking, the attack, the death. Every little thing. You could feel the tears falling down your face as you spoke about your ex-husband. 

Hotch sat as he watched the beautiful woman sitting in front of him break down. He didn't know any of this, none of it was in your file. He knew that Strauss had to know though, because you never would have been accepted without background checks and psych evals. 

His heart broke a little more every time you shared another detail. On one side it felt so nice to get it off your chest. On the other hand, it was weird opening up to Hotch like this. He was seeing so much more of you than you had ever allowed anyone since your husband. He sat in silence once you finished speaking. 

“Y/n. I'm so sorry. You never should have had to go through that.” And the tears came even faster, until they were silent sobs. Hotch, well he was more Aaron in that moment, brought you into his arms holding you tight, bringing you a comfort you hadn’t felt in a long time. “Shh, shh. It’s okay. I’m right here. It’s okay to cry.”He silently whispered into your hair. You looked up at him then, sighing softly at the beautiful man before you. 

“Thank you Aaron.” He loved the way his name sounded coming from your lips. But before he could tell you, he looked down to find you asleep in his arms. And that's how he stayed until morning. 

                       * * *

The next morning you awoke to a strange bed, with strange sheets, in a strange room. But one sniff and all you could smell was Hotch’s cologne. You soon recognized that there was a warm body behind your own, an arm wrapped around your middle. 

You almost didn't remember what happened last night, but once you did, you began to panic. What if he hated you? What if he was disgusted by you? He probably had just pitied you.  

He must have felt you shift, because he was waking up. His arm tightened around you, and he leaned up looking you in the eyes. He saw your panic and was alert rather quickly for someone who had just woken up. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked quickly, eyes scanning you frantically. 

“You must be disgusted with me.” You paused taking a deep breath. “I'm sorry Hotch. I ruined your night and then cried all over you with my pathetic life story. And you probably just pitied me. I'm sorry.” He shook his head. 

“Y/n, look at me.” You looked into his eyes. “I am and never will be disgusted by you. I am amazed by you. You are so strong and beautiful and you never deserved a thing that disgusting man did to you. I don’t pity you, not at all. All of this has just made me fall more in love with you than I already was.” You looked at him wide eyed.

“You love me?” He leaned a little closer.

“Of course I do. It's impossible not to.” You dared closer still as he moved a piece of hair from your face. The loving gesture warming your heart. 

“Thank you. For everything. I love you too Aaron.” And he sealed your lips. It was intimate and explosive at the same time. And in the most cliche way, fireworks exploded as you kissed him. 

You moved together passionately. Your noses bumped ever so slightly as he kissed you deeper than you had ever been kissed. He was an amazing kisser, to say the least. He broke away a moment later, smiling down at you. 

“Give me a chance to show you what real love is, what it's supposed to be.” You nodded.

“Of course Aaron.” And you kissed him again, sliding your hands around his neck into his hair. It was the happiest you had been in a very long time. 

So in hindsight, maybe getting drunk wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 

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

Thanks for reading! Requests are still open, so ask away! If i don't get to yours, I'm sorry!! If you would like an idea of what to request, here is my prompt list, and if you would like to read more of my work, here is my masterlist.

[kaunis-sielu]

Fire Dogs

The fires had been blazing for weeks now, inching closer and closer to your home and firefighters were pouring in. You’d decided to stay, the fire was mostly moving away from town, thank god. The mayor had said that people who were willing to stay and help care for the hordes of firefighters pouring into town were appreciated. So even though you were a single Omega, you’d signed up. You could take in 2-6 firefighters depending on if they were willing to share a bed with one another and if you needed to sleep on the couch. You’d been assigned 3 men, all from New York City, one a Captain and all of them Alphas.

When you open the door as they walk up your sidewalk the first, a man with light hair and blue eyes, gives you a tight smile.

“Hi, welcome. I have a dog, is that okay?” The three men don’t even have to look at one another before all nodding yes. “Great, come on in.” You move out of the doorway and the three men come into the house.

“Thank you so much for opening your home to us.” The first man says, god he smells good, like sandalwood and lavender.

“It’s the least I could do.” You introduce yourself as your dog comes trotting into the room, Cooper’s tail wagging wildly. “But you can call me Fawn, and this is Cooper.”

“Sorry, I’m Steve Rogers, this is Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson.” The first man says introducing himself and the two men with him.

“It’s a pleasure. I’ll show you guys to your rooms.” You lead them upstairs and show them each to a room. Bucky takes your first spare room, Sam the second and Steve is in the master.

“Buck, you’ve got third shift, Sam you’re on first and I’m on second.”

“Do we start today?” Bucky asks as you make your way downstairs, you were given a small packet for the guys, things you would need to know like allergies, presentation, emergency contacts and dietary restrictions. All three are simple, no dietary issues, no allergies, Alphas, Sam has his wife Carol as his emergency contact but Steve and Bucky, or James as he’s listed, both have Rebecca Barnes, Bucky’s sister.

You get started on dinner and Sam wanders down into the kitchen bringing his

“So, why didn’t you leave town?”

“Nowhere to go. And the fire is heading away from here so hopefully everything will stay away from town.”

“The smoke doesn’t bother you?”

“I mean it’s not great but as long as Coop and I are okay I plan on staying. I’ve got some stuff packed up in my car and ready to go but I just haven’t pulled the trigger yet.”

“That’s fair. We do really appreciate you doing this. Letting us stay here.” He’s got such a soothing presence about him that you forget he’s an Alpha until his scent washes over you.

“It’s the least I can do,” you tell him with a smile, “so what does first shift mean?”

“Oh, it’s the really early shift, like 4am. Steve will be out running a crew since he’s a Captain back home and he’s around 10am then Bucky is 4pm.”

“What will I need for you in the morning? Breakfast? Coffee? Energy bars?”

“Coffee would be great. I usually take it with milk.” You jot down coffee and milk on a sheet of paper.

“How do the other two take their coffee?”

“Barnes likes it black, like a psychopath and Steve likes it with cream and sugar so he can’t taste the coffee.” You laugh and jot down creamer.

“Any chance you know what kind of creamer he likes?”

“Caramel I think.”

“I can always ask him too. I’ll set the coffee to go off at 3:15 for you.”

“Thank you.” Sam says as he sits down at the island. “What are you making for dinner?”

“Spaghetti. I make the sauce from scratch, from the garden.”

“It smells great.”

“Thanks, should be about a half hour. I’ve got meatballs in the oven and will have some garlic bread and green beans from my garden too.”

“You’re going to spoil us huh?” He says with a grin and you laugh, hoping that your suppressants work like they’re supposed to and keep you presenting as a Beta.

“I don’t get to cook for others often so I’m being a little selfish. Let me know if you need anything from town or want me to get anything. I’ll go shopping for the week tomorrow.”

“Are they paying you to host us?”

“No, but I don’t mind getting you guys stuff.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely, I wouldn’t offer if it was a problem.” You assure him and after studying you he nods.

“I’ll be sure to let the guys know.” You chat with Sam while you cook. You learn that his wife Carol is an Alpha and a doctor. The Alpha/Alpha pair is uncommon but if it works for them that’s wonderful. You also learn that he, Bucky and Steve served together and that Carol had outranked all three.

It seems that Steve has always been the one to lead their little trio, and when the smell of dinner lures him and Bucky down you include them in the conversation. Bucky, whose scent is oranges and cedar wood, is more chatty and flirty than Steve is but there’s this quiet strength about Steve that’s impossible not to notice.

Sam goes to bed immediately after dinner but Steve and Bucky stay up and watch the news with you. You set the coffee machine for Sam and leave him a note to help himself to anything he wants to eat. Then you bring Cooper outside, he wanders your wildfire lit backyard, the orange glow is spooky and the smell of smoke is thick in the air.

“Come on Coop, it’s bedtime.” You tell him leading him to the living room. Both Steve and Bucky are gone so you change into your pajamas and get ready for bed in the bathroom then head back to the couch where Cooper is laying dead center. “Move it Coop.” He grumbles but gets down, once you’re settled you let him back up on the couch between your feet.

You wake up as Sam closes the fridge.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He says softly. When he turns and sees you sitting up on the couch.

“No it’s okay.” You tell him as Cooper hops off of the couch. You follow him to the back door and let him out.

“Why are you sleeping on the couch?”

“They needed three more beds so I gave them three more beds.”

“We put you out of your room?” He asks with a small frown.

“I sleep more on the couch anyway, I usually fall asleep to one baking show or another.” You tell him with a sleepy smile, you hadn’t meant to tell them they’d taken all your beds but it was too late now.

“This is your home.”

“Seriously Sam don’t worry about it.” You say letting Cooper back into the house. “Be safe.”

“Thanks.” He says and you go back to bed on the couch.

The next time you wake it’s 9:00 and you want to make sure that you’ve got something ready for Bucky and Steve for breakfast so you get up. You feed Cooper then let him out again, if there wasn’t the fire you’d let him stay outside as long as he wanted. You sit down on the couch and pull your tablet into your lap. Cooper joins you on the couch as you start to draw your characters.

“Morning.” Steve’s voice is low and soft when he greets you.

“Good morning. There are pancakes, scrambled eggs, hash browns and bacon in the oven. The pans will be warm.”

“Thanks,” you hear him help himself to food and coffee then he comes out into the living room. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all. Don’t let Coop fool you into any food though.”

“No people food for him?”

“Just some fruit and veggies.” You tell him glancing up at the fire captain. “So Sam said you guys were on a 4-10-4 start time but what time are you all home?”

“We’re doing 12 hour shifts, so Sam and Buck don’t overlap but I will with both.”

“Okay, I’ll have dinner ready when you get back. Is there anything that I don’t have that you need? Sam said you liked a certain flavor of creamer.”

“The French vanilla is fine.”

“He said caramel?” You glance over at him again and he has this little shy smile on his face. “I don’t mind, I need to go get groceries anyway.”

“Caramel is my favorite.” He admits and you nod then get back to your drawing. He finishes his breakfast in silence then puts his dishes into the dishwasher, Steve heads back upstairs and you hear him finish getting ready before he comes back down.

“Be safe.”

“Thanks.” He says before closing the door softly behind him.

Bucky sleeps until almost noon, you’ve taken breakfast out of the oven and put it in the fridge. He somehow looks groggy still and you’re worried he didn’t sleep well.

“Good morning.”

“Morning. How are you?” His voice is low and husky.

“Good. Did you sleep okay?”

“Yea I slept great. I could still be asleep to be honest but I might get called in early.”

“Why?”

“There are less guys at base camp right now. Apparently a group of them had some trouble on the way? I don’t know but Steve called.”

“Breakfast is in the fridge if you wanna heat it otherwise I have lunch meat and stuff for sandwiches.”

“I love breakfast food.” He says making his way to the fridge. He starts a cup of coffee then opens the fridge.

You find out that Bucky is a chatter. Which is fine but you’re glad that you’re illustrating today rather than writing because there’s no way you’d be able to focus on writing. He asks you about living in the small town, how you ended up here, about your job, when he finds out you’re an author and illustrator of children’s books he promises to buy his niece a couple books. You tell him to leave his address and you’ll send him a signed copy of the one you’re working on, he excitedly does.

When he leaves at 3:30, not being called in early, you take a break and start on dinner. You want to make sure you’ve got food ready for Sam when he gets back.

Sam comes in at 4:45, Cooper barks excitedly and Sam sinks to the ground and Cooper immediately calms allowing Sam to wrap his arms around him. You don’t say anything, just continue to cook while Sam hugs Cooper to him. You hear him talking softly but you ignore him, whatever he’s saying to Coop is none of your business.

“I’m gonna go take a shower before I eat.” Sam says at full volume, the side of his face still pressed to Cooper’s side.

“That’s fine,” you assure him, “I’ve got about twenty minutes before the rice is done.”

“Okay.” He disappears then Cooper comes wandering into the kitchen. You give him a couple of treats and tell him what a good boy he is.

Sam eats in silence then goes up to his room, you’re pretty sure he goes to bed by 7 but after the day he’s had you can’t blame him.

At 10 you start reheating food for when Steve comes in. Sure enough, 10:30 rolls in and so does Steve. Cooper greets Steve with a wagging tail, Steve gives him a little pat and heads upstairs. You hear the shower turn on and after around 10 minutes Steve is back dropping down on the couch as Cooper puts a head in his lap. Steve absently pets Cooper and you place a plate of food in front of him.

“Thank you.” His tired eyes meet yours and he gives you a little half smile.

“It’s the least I can do.” You tell him sincerely. Cooper stays with his head in Steve’s lap until Steve goes upstairs to bed. You set up your bed on the couch and set your alarm for 3:30 in the morning so you can get food heated for Bucky and coffee and food started for Sam.

You fall asleep still smelling Steve on your couch.

Tag list:

@memyselfandmaddox @thefanficfaerie @patzammit @dsakita @dramadreamer14 @killcomet @thesassmisstress @andahugaroundtheneck @loving-life-my-way @thefridgeismybestie @dumblani @im-just-another-monster @mywinterwolf @giggleberts @biskwitmamaw @geeksareunique @paintballkid711 @lumar014 @also-fangirlinsweden @connie326 @inkedaztec @eralen @valsworldofcreativity @strangersstranger

[nctsjiho]

Your Fault

warnings: strong language, consumption of alchol, mention of death without actual death, very much angst

era: July 7th 2021

❀ NCT 127's 5th anniversary isn't a day to celebrate and be happy for everyone

To Doyoung:

“Happy 5th anniversary oppa!”

“I hope you and the boys are having a great time <3”

JiHo stared at her phone intently waiting for the “sent” at the bottom of her screen to turn into “read”. She had been staring at her phone like that for nearly an hour, yet nothing changed. The girl knew that the boys were busy, but somewhere she hoped that she’d hear from them. Besides the short “wished you could be with us” message she had received the evening before from Taeyong she hadn’t heard from anyone else. Of course JiHo was aware that the boys were busy, but was it a crime to feel left out and maybe want a phone call or something more than a “wished you could be with us” from anyone?

And so JiHo continued to stare at her phone, everything on the small screen getting progressively more blurry as time went on. Her eyes were straining, one almost pressed shut, the other slowly going cross-side. Her right hand, which wasn’t holding the phone, reached out to the glass bottle on her desk. A quick shake letting her know it was empty. So she reached for the other one, opening it skilfully with one hand – like she did with the other two bottles now empty on her desk – and bringing it up to her lips. “Must be nice hm~ Being an idol or whatever…”

“I’m glad you came over.” Sihyun, JiHo’s Esteem manager that lives with her, said as she grabbed the boy’s coat off his shoulders. The piece of clothing, along with his hair, slightly damp caused by the light drizzle outside. “JiHo’s been a bit sensitive and doesn’t let me in her room. She doesn’t want to talk to me at all.” Jaemin watched the woman’s face full of worry. He gave her a small reassuring smile and then glanced at the door leading to JiHo’s room. “I’ll try to talk to her.” Thanking Jaemin, Sihyun then excused herself, telling him she had to run some late night errands.

Not knowing what was happening behind the closed door of the bedroom, Jaemin knocked a few times. “Unnie~ Just leave me- leave me alone.” JiHo hiccupped between her words, her speech sounding a bit slurred. She had been drinking? JiHo?

Without a second thought Jaemin pushed the door open. A jumbled mess of protests escaped JiHo’s lips, but she froze in her chair as soon as her eyes locked with Jaemin. “What… are you doing here?” She muttered to the best of her abilities. “Coming to check up on you.” He neared the girl and poked at the bottles and the mess on her desk. “Clearly you need it.” His tone sounded very much disappointed and for a split second JiHo felt her heart ache, but she quickly turned defensive. “I do not!”

A sigh escaped deep from Jaemin’s chest and he pulled JiHo to sit on the edge of her bed next to him. “Since when do you drink?” It was quiet for a bit. JiHo looked at the bottle of the alcoholic beverage in her hand, swirling it around by circling her wrist and then started to giggle to herself. “A new hobby?” She turned to Jaemin, a big smile on her lips – however Jaemin could see the sadness behind it easily. “It’s fun. Feeling… Nothing! I can barely feel my… my lips.” Her body swayed from side to side prompting Jaemin to grab her by her shoulders and hold her in place. “It’s fun until you wake up with a hangover tomorrow.” He scoffed. “Can’t get a hangover if I don’t sleep.” She said, before turning to her desk. She then pointed at the box of another 9 bottles of alcohol next to it on the floor. “Or if I don’t stop drinking.” She grinned.

“Yah! What’s wrong with you?” Jaemin’s patience ran dry quickly. He just felt so furious seeing how badly JiHo was treating her own body. She never drank and now she was planning to drink 12 bottles of alcohol? Drinking herself straight into the hospital, and if it weren’t for Jaemin being here, maybe straight into her own grave. “This is strong alcohol! For all I know you can’t even handle it, so what made you decide to drink now huh?” He yelled, anger only rising watching the girl just stare at him with wide, innocent eyes.

Those same eyes turned to look at her laptop, located on the desk she sat at earlier. The NCT 127 online fanmeeting being streamed, muted.

Of course Jaemin knew it was NCT 127’s 5th anniversary, he knew it must’ve affected JiHo in some way, even if she kept insisting she was going to be fine and was happy for the boys. She even said that she wasn’t “part of the group since debut, so it wouldn’t even be my 5th anniversary” and everyone just had to nod and smile.

“Is that a reason to potentially drink yourself to death?” Jaemin poked her side – maybe a bit too harsh – to gain her attention again; she seemed to be zoning out every few seconds. “What else was I supposed to do? I’m tired of keeping things in.” She sneered at him and it was almost as if she didn’t drink anything. She sounded much more coherent than just a minute earlier. “Aren’t you doing just that though? Drinking on your own. Not letting Sihyun noona in? We keep telling you to talk to us, yet all you do is keep things in. The hyungs even took you out to do stuff and get your mind off things yet you get home and do the thing you always do.”

JiHo felt every drop of alcohol leave her system as she heard the somewhat condescending tone in her friend’s voice. “What the fuck? So this is my fault-“ “Kinda, yes! You just sit here feeling sorry for yourself while everyone is worried over you! We’re your friends for a reason JiHo. There are so many people who care for you, just start fucking talking when you feel down like this.”

The blood inside of JiHo’s veins started to boil and at the same time she felt tears pricking behind her eyes. “You think it’s that easy? What am I supposed to say? That I feel upset that I can’t be with 127 now? Okay. Then what about it? Me telling you this won’t change shit!” “At least you should stop lying and stop telling everyone you’re fine when you’re not! Why do you continue keeping things a secret from everyone?” Both JiHo and Jaemin’s chest rose and fell at a rapid pace. “But I guess you’re good at that anyway.” He added in a mumble.

Once the words registered in JiHo’s mind, the bottle that started to hover towards her lips was quickly forgotten. “What do you mean by that?” Jaemin just shrugged his shoulders and turned his gaze away from JiHo. “Jaemin? What do-“ “You were supposed to debut in 2016 with NCT U?” JiHo’s eyes widened and she pushed herself to stand up. “How’d you know-“ “Then they asked you to debut in 127? Also with us… In Dream?” “How do you know?” Was the only thing JiHo could say.

“Does it matter?” Jaemin yelled, standing up as well. “Why do you continue to keep secrets from us? Do you not trust us? Is that why you sit here alone? Drinking and crying alone.” The boy watched as JiHo stood in front of him wordlessly. He could see how his words were affecting her, but he wanted to be selfish for once. He wanted to let JiHo know how frustrating things were for him and his friends. He was well aware of how JiHo had her own worries and hardships, but if she never wanted to confide in anyone, then he was allowed to be mad right?

The only sound filling the room was both of their ragged breathing and the occasional shift from one foot to the other. The silence was almost deafening, a ringing shooting up JiHo’s clouded mind making her feel like she was going to lose it any second now. Her friend sending hurtful glares her way didn’t help ease the growing pain either.

“You’re right. I could’ve debuted in 2016, what about it?” JiHo whispered, afraid that her talking too loud would send surges of pain into her brain. “Why did you hide it from us? Why didn’t you say yes back then?” Jaemin interrogated her. “There was no reason to tell you if it didn’t happen. I didn’t debut so telling you I could’ve wouldn’t change a thing. I’m not in Dream, I didn’t debut in U and clearly now, I’m not in 127 either. Jaemin… It doesn’t matter anymore…” JiHo’s voice stayed as calm as possible.

“How long have you known Jaemin?” JiHo spoke up again as Jaemin didn’t say anything. She felt the tension grow exponentially, the pressure on her body and more noticeably her head increasing and bothering her more as well. “I heard it during that last meeting you had with Yebin noona and Mister Lee Soo Man…” JiHo let out a small chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief. “I guess we’re eavesdropping and keeping secrets from me as well.”

She brought the glass bottle still in her hands to her lips, throwing her head back, to down as much of the liquid as possible. Before she could finish it all in one go, Jaemin gripped the bottle and pulled it away from her. “It’s not the same, JiHo!”

The liquid rushed from between JiHo’s lips, making a wet patch on her grey sweatpants. She could feel her throat and lungs burning as she coughed, caused by the alcohol going down her windpipe instead.

Jaemin watched her with concern painting his features, his hand slowly caressing her back hoping it would ease her violent coughs. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” He whispered and JiHo gave him a small nod as her body calmed down.

The two 00 liners stayed like that for a while, with Jaemin’s eyes burning at the back of JiHo’s downturned head. Even after JiHo’s body stopped shaking violently, Jaemin’s concern continued to grow. It was only when he noticed the drops, which only could be tears, fall onto her sweatpants and create even more wet spots, that he decided to step in.

Jaemin’s hand securely gripped JiHo’s shoulder and he pulled her up to face him. A gasp left the boy’s mouth as he watched large tears spill from his friend’s eyes. “Ji…” It proved incredibly difficult to speak when he was faced with a situation he wasn’t ready to deal with. Maybe Jaemin shouldn’t have confronted her the way he did. Maybe acting like everything was fine wouldn’t have caused him to witness JiHo at possibly the worst she has felt.

It became a full minute of Jaemin staring into JiHo’s pain- and tear-filled eyes, feeling like he could drown in them himself, before a loud pained sob brought him to reality. The sudden jolt of JiHo’s body forward made Jaemin act quickly and pulled the girl into his chest. His hand, just as quickly, found its way into JiHo’s slightly tangled hair.

“I’m… sor- so sorry.” JiHo sobbed into his chest, tears soaking through even the thicker material of the boy’s jumper. Jaemin could feel his sweater start to stick against his chest, yet what felt more uncomfortable than the damp piece of clothing was the feeling of JiHo’s body shaking in his hold.

As best as he could, Jaemin tried to soothe JiHo. Almost like taking care of a crying toddler, he swayed the girl from side to side. His lips were pressed against the shell of JiHo’s ear as Jaemin whispered affirmations into her skin. “Don’t apologise... Stop apologising.”

“I’m only bringing the team down-” “Shh JiHo. Stop that.” He told her, as his fingers continued to comb through her hair, slowly and carefully detangling it along the way. JiHo pressed her eyes tighter as even more tears spilled from her cheeks and pushed herself closer into Jaemin’s grasp.

Mouth agape, a sob that was building up in his own chest was threatening to fall from Jaemin’s own lips. “You don’t deserve any of this JiHo, you only deserve the best.” JiHo only shook her head, but didn’t dare to speak again. “You do... You really do.”

The night in the capital of South-Korea was never really that dark. Lights always seemed to find their way past the pulled back blinds of any building that wasn’t directly blocked by another one due to bad city planning. So even during the darkest time of day, even when all the lights inside have been dimmed, somehow, it was still light enough to see inside.

So when Jaemin pulled back to look at JiHo’s face, her eyes still tightly pressed shut - which pained him immensely - Jaemin could see the light reflecting off of her wet cheeks.

Feeling two hands being placed on her burning cheeks, JiHo finally decided to open her eyes again. A few more tears rolled over her cheeks onto Jaemin’s thumbs, but luckily no new ones seemed to form. “I’m sorry for everything, all this drama. It’s my fault.” Jaemin shook his head and pulled the girl back, this time to hide his own tears that were starting to form. “Please stop apologising, it’s not your fault.”

“But-” JiHo sighed, her arms found their way around Jaemin’s small waist. “I hate that it’s always about me. I don’t want to be this cliche ‘emotional girl with so many problems and everyone has to pay attention to her problems’. I don’t want that. I don’t want to burden you guys with that, but I also don’t want that kind of attention. I know people already hate me for being in a boy’s group. I don’t want my stupid problems to be the only thing that people assiociate me with NCT.”

“Your problems are not stupid JiHo. And though I understand what you’re saying, I think it’s worse to keep it in. If anything, keeping it in just makes us worry about you more and may get you more attention. JiHo I know things suck right now, and I can’t imagine how you’re feeling with everything going on right now, but… Please just talk to us when things are bothering you. We all love you.”

At those last words JiHo loudly sniffled back some stray tears. She pressed herself into Jaemin’s warm embrace and softly nodded her head. “From now on I will. I promise. And…” JiHo looked up at Jaemin, sending him a small smile that he gratefully reciprocated. “I love you guys too. You’re all I have here and that’s enough to make me stay.”

Jaemin’s hand resumed with his previous ministrations. A deep sigh left his lips as he rested his head atop of JiHo’s. “Everything will be just fine.” Jaemin pressed a kiss against JiHo’s hair. “As long as we stay together everything will be just fine.”

[forever-rogue]

I got a whole 4 hours of sleep today and have to pull a 12 hour shift. So I apologize if it doesn’t make sense, I am new to the Bucky fandom!

I like the idea of his grumpy, refusing to let anyone in, be slowly ground down by reader, but teeters back and forth until reader is in some sort of trouble. Then the flood gates of vulnerability open because he was worried about them. I mean he hasn’t been with anyone since the 40s right? Would he still know how to navigate caring about someone in that way? I don’t know. It was something that has been buzzing around in my head for a week.

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: langauge, vague description of sex (minors dni!)

BUCKY MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

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You’d started out as neighbors - nothing more and nothing less. 

Neighbors turned into causal acquaintances, fueled by your constant baking and copious amounts of goodies. Casual acquaintances turned into friends that would spend an occasional evening watching television together. Friends quickly turned into best friends that became utterly inseparable....with the occasional hook-up. You were hesitant to call it friends with benefits because that just sounded so crass. It was more like best friends with the occasional stress relief.

Stress relief. Sure that worked.

None that you wouldn’t have minded more of course. But you weren’t about to make a move on James Buchanan Barnes and ask him out on a date. No, you knew your place and his. He was physically akin to a god, mixed in with a bit of fuck boy, and yet...you loved him. You’d fallen hard and fast for the man that had gone from a mere stranger to a welcome and comfortable part of your life. But you’d never tell him that. 

No, nope, hell no. Bucky surely didn’t reciprocate your feelings and you’d never been the type to make a move first. 

Besides that...Bucky didn’t exactly strike you as a relationship type of guy. You’d seen him here and there with a girl or two, but it wasn’t anything serious. And since the two of you had started hooking up, you’d never noticed anyone else. And you hadn’t been with anyone else either. It was akin to a non-exclusive exclusive not-really-a-relationship relationship. Neither of you pushed it any further - you both accepted dates here and there but they never amounted to anything. Wonder why?

Unbeknownst to you, it wasn’t that Bucky didn’t want a relationship - he did. He did very much with you. But he just...there was something about being a one hundred and six year-old man that just left him confused and worried. He hadn’t exactly had the opportunity to date much and now that he had the time it reminded him of just how different things were. Dating was this weird confused jumble, but you were a clear and obvious bright spot. He had his doubts that you’d ever want anything more from him. He knew what he was - a mostly stable old man with a body that people seemed to enjoy. He made the most of that - it didn’t seem like people were interested in getting to know him much these days. 

But you did - you always did. And, gods, he’d fallen hard for you - the kind of love that makes your stomach churn and heart feel like bursting and steals your breath away no matter how long it’s been. But what the fuck would you want with him? He’s a fossil with a boatload of mental trauma and even more sass and attitude.

You deserved the world and he only had himself to give. Of course, he was enough - way more than enough - but he didn't believe that. 

There had been numerous occasions when you'd tried to be honest, to confess your true feelings, but you'd always managed to fall short. Every time you got close, something came up. And after the last girl you'd seen him with, you vowed to take your secret to the grave. 

You had come close though - so close - especially the last time you'd hooked up.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You were under Bucky, both of you naked and panting as you quickly approached your highs. He was buried deep inside you, head dropped to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, nipping and biting at the delicate skin. 

Your legs were wrapped around his waist in order to hold him close. One of your hands was laced together with his while the other was wrapped around his neck. There was something so perfectly harmonious about how you always were together. 

His name fell from your lips like a prayer, James, James, James as he kept going. It was the only time you called him anything but Bucky. As your vision had grown hazy and you felt that familiar warm start to blood your veins, you’d let your true feelings slip. It was so easy, so effortless and in the moment it just...happened.

I love you. 

The declaration hung in the air as you felt your walls clamp around him and he reached his own eyes. That’s when you’d realized what you’d done. This time it was an entirely different sensation radiating throughout your bones - terror. Utter terror.

But if Bucky had heard your three little words he made no mention of them. Relief washed over you as you came to the conclusion that he was just as wrapped up in his own blissful haze that he simply hadn’t heard you. You were safe this time - but you’d have to be extra cautious from here on out.

Oh, but Bucky had heard you. Loudly and clearly. He chose to ignore your words because he was positive that he hadn’t heard you incorrectly. Surely you hadn’t meant to say that - and more importantly, it was a mistake. As much as he loved hearing those words from your pretty lips, he knew it was either an accident or a figment of his imagination. 

You both pretended that nothing had happened. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Bucky rolled his eyes lightly as he watched his phone light up with a call from Sam. He was half tempted to ignore it but decided to answer anyway; he was bored and the call might lead to something to do. You’d normally be hanging out with him on a Friday night, but his calls and texts had gone unanswered.

“Hey man,” Bucky picked up the call and walked into the kitchen to grab a beer, “what’s up?”

“You need to get to the hospital,” Sam was speaking so quickly that it all came out in a single slew of words as Bucky’s brows knitted together.

“I know I don’t have a lot going on this Friday night, but I think I’m okay,” he snorted as he opened the bottle and took a swig.

“No, no, no,” Sam interrupted by almost whispering your name, “there’s been an accident. She was hurt and taken to the ER. I was on the phone with her when it happened - just come. Now.”

Bucky didn’t even wait for Sam to finish before he dropped the beer and ran out the door. His whole body felt like it was growing numb and the only thing on his mind was you. You couldn't be hurt...you just couldn’t. Bucky couldn’t imagine any sort of reality in which you weren’t there. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

As soon as he ran into the hospital, seeking out the emergency room, he was asking about you. He looked probably just as crazy as he felt as he was nervously directed to your room. He almost jogged down the hall and into your small space. Sam stood at the end of your bed, looking down at you with a concerned expression.

“What the hell happened?” Bucky could barely bring himself to look at you as you laid on the small bed, looking so helpless and fragile. You were sleeping, sedated from lots of heavy drugs, but hooked up to several beeping machines. Your arm was in a cast already, bruises and contusions and cuts littered every bit of your skin that he could see. His heart plummeted into his stomach. 

“She was crossing the street and got hit by a car that didn’t slow down enough in time,” Sam’s heavy was heavy as he rubbed at his tired, “I heard it all happen, Buck. It was terrible - but she’s strong. She’s going to be okay. No internal damage, luckily, but she’s going to be in a lot of pain for a while. The arm’s broken.”

“Jesus,” Bucky sighed as Sam nodded.

“I called her parents and they’ll be here soon. She’s just sleeping but hopefully will wake up soon.”

“Okay,” Bucky took a hesitant step closer.

“She asked for you,” Sam hadn’t been sure if he should have confessed that little part or not, “when they were bringing her in. Kept repeating your name. You should just tell her, you know. She’s obvious she feels the same. Don’t be idiots.”

“Thanks,” Bucky rolled his eyes dramatically as the two men shared a quick laugh before Sam hugged him, “I’ll stay here if you want to go. You’ve done a lot already. Thank you for calling me.”

“I got you man,” Sam gave him a half smile, “call me if you need anything at all...or if anything happens.”

“Goodbye.”

As soon as his friend left, Bucky came over to you, his fingers grazing the side of the small, horrid looking bed. He was going to help you however you needed it for however long it would take till you were better and out of pain. If he had the choice, he wouldn’t ever leave your side again.

This whole time he’d been so dumb, so silly. He should have just told you how he left - a long time ago and gotten over himself. A heavy sigh escaped him as you pulled up the uncomfortable plastic chair and took a seat next to you.

He gently, ever so delicately reached for the hand that was in the cast and held it in his. It almost made him laugh with how much smaller your hand was than his. They fit perfectly together.

He watched the steady rise and fall of your chest as you slept, wondering when you’d wake up. He hoped soon - so he could finally tell you all of those unspoken words. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

“James?” a croaky, dry voice met his ears as his tired eyes snapped open. He blinked a few times to adjust his vision before focusing on you. You were looking back at him with a tired, sleepy little smile on your features. You looked beautiful, so damn beautiful, despite the blues and purples painting your skin, “what are you doing here?”

He must have fallen asleep at some point during the night. He was still holding your hand. He beamed back at you, “hi pretty girl. Sam called me and told me what happened. I came right over.”

“I’m anything but pretty right now,” you laughed lightly but quickly grimaced at the pain, “how long have you been here?”

“Since yesterday evening,” he confessed quickly, “I didn’t want to leave - wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh Bucky,” there was that saccharine little smile on your face. The same one he loved so much, “you didn’t have to. I...I really fucked up movie night, huh?”

“I’m in love with you.”

He finally got those damn words out before he could change his mind or think too much about it. Your face immediately lit up with a grin as you searched his cerulean eyes. 

“Do you mean it?” you asked softly as he nodded, feeling a blush creep into his cheeks.

“Of course.”

“I love you too, Bucky,” you replied, giving his hand a tight squeeze, “I’m in love with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” he whispered as he leaned closer to you, “because I’m not going anywhere, pretty girl. Not now, not ever.”

“I don’t want you to, Bucky,” you promised, “I want you with me always.”

“That sounds perfect to me.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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