longing-for-the-past-times

[bohemianblasphemy]

MGG prompt. 🥺 Reid’s favorite holiday is Halloween and he’s disappointed when his plans fall through for the evening so you invite him to hand out candy at your house, and once he arrives he’s very into your Halloween costume, and you end up not passing out any candy. 😉😉

I love me some Spencer Reid 🥺✨ spooky smut coming your way!!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Contains: Unprotected sex, Spencer fucking you in your costume, Reader receiving oral, fishnet ripping… fun stuff!

“What do you mean you’re not doing Halloween this year?” You were shocked, leaning over Spencer’s desk as he was sitting in his chair.

“My plans fell through… so it’s just sit in my apartment and watch some horror movies that night.” Spencer shrugged, but you could see the disappointment behind his expression. He LOVED Halloween- come October and it was the only thing he’d talk about. You hated seeing him sad, especially during his favourite time of the year.

“Hey, I have an idea.” You said, the cogs in your head turning.

“Come over to mine… we can dress up and hand out candy, watch some scary movies. I don’t want you to be alone…” you said softly, hoping that he would take you up on your offer.

Spencer’s eyes had a spark of excitement from your offer- not only because of Halloween but also because he could spend time with you.

“Y-yeah! I’d like that a lot…” he gave you that goofy smile he always gave when he was excited, making your heart flutter at the sight.

“Great! I’ll um… text you the address, you gotta wear a costume though… or you’re not being let in.” You teased, making him fidget in his seat.

“Oh I will be, don’t you worry.”

- - -

The few days to Halloween rolled by as Spencer and yourself had finalised your plans for that night.

You stood at your bathroom mirror, applying the final touches to your makeup - the pink and blue eyeshadow blended to perfection, bringing your elvira costume together with the tall wig and long black dress that showed off your curves perfectly.

The timing was impeccable as you heard the doorbell buzzing, your favourite boy genius had arrived on time. You eagerly made your way towards the door, opening it to see Spencer… in normal clothing.

“Spencer I told you to dress up!” You said to him, a bit of disappointment in your voice. “What do you mean? I am dressed up…” Spencer smoothed over his shirt.

“I’m an existentialist.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you couldn’t help but laugh. He was such a dork, but you couldn’t help but admire him for it.

“Besides, it looks like you’re the star of our Halloween night…” Spencer smiled softly, his eyes running over you as he admired your costume.

The soft blush on your cheeks was undeniable, smiling sweetly at him. “Thanks Spence… come in.” You pulled the door open wider, watching him walk inside and take in the surroundings of your home.

He saw the giant bowl of candy, meant for any trick or treaters who were to pass by the house but couldn’t help but take a piece for himself.

“Got a lot to choose from…” he smiled as he unwrapped the piece of candy, putting it in his mouth and chewing slowly.

Smiling at him, you nodded. “Whoever comes to the door is gonna have a hard time choosing…”

There was undoubtedly tension between you both, you had no problems speaking when you were at work together but now? The air was just full of unspoken feelings and longing…

“Uhm… i have some movies that we can watch, if you’re wanting to watch something…” you turned around, trying to break the silence that surrounded you both.

“I have Halloween, The Lost Boys, Scream, The Thing- take your pick.” You handed him the DVDS that you had in your hand, he takes them and momentarily grazes his fingers on yours, making the flush on your cheeks burn brighter as you watch him go through the selection of movies.

“The Lost Boys first?” He grinned, seeing the smile on your face.

“My favourite… yes let’s do it.”

The doorbell rang, hearing a muffled “trick or treat!” From behind the wood.

“I’ll get the door… you pop the movie in yeah?” You looked to him as you grabbed the candy bowl.

“Yeah of course.” He looked as you turned around, admiring the way that you looked in your costume as you answered the door to the trick or treaters.

In that time you took handing out candy and closed the door, Spencer had taken a seat on your couch ready to watch the movie, waiting for you to come sit beside him.

Upon your return, Spencer smiled up at you as you sat down. Ready to watch as he pressed play.

The movie plays, the title card with the aerial shot of the carnival in Santa Carla is in view and you focus on the screen- Spencer, trying to get avert his eyes to the screen was looking at you, he couldn’t get over how you looked in that outfit…

He felt bad for not watching the movie, but he enjoyed watching you. He could see the excitement in your eyes as the vampires on their bikes driving off through the sandy dunes and smiled softly at your reactions.

You could feel his eyes on you, knowing that he wasn’t paying attention- but you couldn’t help but love that he was watching you instead of the movie.

You turned to face him, A dash of confidence building up inside you.

“Spence?” You whispered, locking eye contact with him.

Spencer’s eyes went wide and he swallowed hard.

“I-I um…” he stuttered, not being able to look you in the eye. His nervousness settling in as he looked toward his lap.

Using your index finger you pulled his chin up, making him look at you.

“Do you like what you see Spence?” You whisper, your sweet tone sending a shiver down his spine.

Of course he did, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you in your costume.

“Yes…” he whispered, watching you move closer toward him. The gap between you both was agonisingly thin, his pupils blown with desire for you.

Leaning in further, you could feel his shallow, shaky breaths on your lips- feeling his needy desire for you buzzing off of him.

“Do you want this? Do you want me?” You said quietly, smiling at the hitch in his throat.

“Yes… god yes.” He whined, there was nothing in that moment that he wanted more than to have you… to take you.

Taking that opportunity, you moved forward and captured his lips with yours, tasting the lingering candy on his tongue.

Spencer couldn’t help the soft moan that came from within him as you kissed, his slender fingers coming up to your cheek but pausing within an inch of you.

“Can I touch you?” He asked, watching as you nodded. He pulled you into him, his other arm snaking around you and holding you closer as he kissed you once more.

Your hands reached his chest, slowly unbutton his shirt and splaying it open to reveal his torso.

“Pretty boy…” you praised him as you pulled away from his kiss; watching his chest rise and fall shakily at your touch as your fingers ghosted along his warm skin toward the button of his pants, a tent evidently filled the space in front of his zipper.

“W-wait-“ he panted, gently taking your wrist. Leaning forward he encapsulated your lips again. “I-I need to taste you, please.” Spencer’s voice was yearning.

“Hmm…” you replied, a smirk appearing on your lips. “I think that can be arranged.” Spencer watched as you stood up, extending your hand to him.

Taking your hand, he followed you down the hallway to your room. Closing the door behind you Spencer took your waist, walking you backwards to the edge of the bed and lay you down- splayed out for him as your split of your black dress bared your fishnet clad legs.

Spencer looked down at you, in awe of how beautiful he thought you looked in your outfit as he sat down on his knees by the edge of the bed.

His long fingers traced along your thighs, feeling the flimsy material of the tights. He took his bottom lip between his teeth, hands tracing further up your legs to your pelvis.

With a shaky breath, he traced lightly along the front of you- your body quivering for more.

“Can I?” He whispered, looking up at you for permission. After seeing you nod, he didn’t hesitate to dig his fingers in the tights, ripping them open to reveal what lay beneath them making you gasp.

“Spence those were my good ones…” you giggled softly. “I’ll buy you another- fuck I’ll buy you 10 pairs… they look so good.” He praised you, moving closer to where you wanted him most.

So beautiful.” Spencer was in awe as he played with the elastic of your underwear and pulling it to the side, admiring your glistening cunt.

Placing a few kisses to your thighs, he traces his lips up to your pussy- flattening his tongue against you before bringing the tip of it to your clit, swirling around the sensitive nub.

The taste of you was going to be the death of him, moaning at how good it felt- something he could never get enough of.

“Spence….” You breathed out, your hands reaching for his brown hair and pulling at them- eliciting a sudden moan from him as he continued his assault with his tongue.

Your noises filled the room, each going an octave higher as he you reached your peak, the grip on his hair getting tighter as you came hard on his lips and tongue.

Spencer looked up at you, his lips wet with your desire and his eyes filled with want.

Your eyes followed him as he stood up. Starting to fiddle with the button of his pants and letting them fall to the ground at his feet, leaving him in his briefs.

All you could do was stare- your eyes raking over his form, seeing the tent that had formed under his briefs.

He watched your eyes and smirked slightly as he toyed with the elastic, hooking his thumbs under the material and pulling them down setting himself free.

Him standing bare before you was a sight for sore eyes. “God Spencer…” you whispered, admiring him as you went to take off your costume- but he objected.

“Leave it on… please.” He pleaded. “I wanna take you like this…” he said shyly as he took a step over to you and crawled on top the sheets, hovering over you.

He looked over you, seeing you eye him from below in awe- the yearning to feel you overwhelming as he positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you with his tip.

“C-can I?” He whispered, his face coming down a few inches from you as you nodded enthusiastically. “Yes Spencer, please…”

Slowly and steadily, he started to move himself inside you- a gasp falling from his lips he moved his hips, listening and watching as your mouth fell open; the most heavenly sound that has ever hit his ears falling from your lips- calling his name and your fingers digging into his shoulders.

His thrusts became faster, more desperate. The eagerness to please you, to feel you- to make you cum the only goal on his mind.

“I-is this good? Please tell me it feels good-“ he was panting, desperate to hear you praise him. “Sp-Spence you feel so good- so good f’me…” you couldn’t help the shuddering words that came out, ecstasy building up in your core.

A small whimper rolled out of Spencer at your praise, whining as he continued rolling his hips into yours. The pressure of his orgasm was building up inside him quickly.

“I-I’m not gonna last.” He whispered, another whine following his words.

“Let go Spencer, please…”

Spencer’s thrusts became more erratic as he watched you fall over the edge- calling out his name as you came hard around him, clenching yourself around his cock.

His breathing became jagged as he felt himself twitch inside you, his orgasm hitting him like a tidal wave as his cum coated your walls.

“God you’re- you’re so beautiful, so perfect…” he watched as you glanced up at him with half lidded eyes and parted lips that had messy red lipstick all over them, basking in the after glow. His hair stuck to his temples, making you giggle as you unstuck it from his head. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted that, wanted you…” you smiled, touching his cheek gently as though he was made of glass.

Spencer leaned into your touch, his pupils blown with admiration. “Me too…”

There was a silence between you both, before he piped up once more.

“Definitely the best Halloween I’ve had.” He smiled at his own sentence, making you giggle as he lay down beside you- giving soft touches as he held you close- content with being there in that moment with you.

[imaginedanvrs]

ready or not, here we come

ghostface!wandanatcarol x reader

masterlist

word count: 5.3k

warnings: home invasion, death threats, knife play, cutting, some blood, slapping, stalking, begging, fingering, restraint, strap on sex (r receiving), anal, double penetration, triple penetration, overestimation, implied character death. lmk if i missed anything

It was pretty much a once in a lifetime moment for you to have the entire house to yourself, so you were more than prepared to take full advantage. Trouble was, there were too many options and only one night to fulfil as much as you could.

  You could have brought someone home from your local bar to fool around with on whatever surface you pleased, though that meant being away from the house for a couple hours because your home was outside of town. You could have dug up your secret bag of weed in the back of your closet to smoke the house down, but if the potent smell still lingered when your parents strolled through the door the next day then you would be in deep shit. Maybe you should have just gotten off and made the most of not worrying about being too loud while enjoying your own company. 

  When you stepped into the lounge your eyes landed on the tv standing proudly at the front. Then again, maybe you could just watch your favourite horror films on the best quality screen in the house without anyone around to make noises of disgust at the kill scenes. Paired with the raw cookie dough your mum always scolded you for eating, it could be the perfect night. 

  You dashed upstairs and swiftly changed into your sleeping shorts and shirt, unaware of the heavy gaze that watched you strip. You practically lived in the middle of nowhere and had never really felt the need to close your blinds when you changed. Or even when you slept. It was a good area - quiet. 

  Just as your bare feet hit the downstairs landing, the phone rang through the hall. You considered ignoring it because whoever was on the other line certainly wasn’t going to be calling for you and from the sounds of it, half the people that your parents answered to were reps or scammers. Still, you were willing to bet the one phone call you didn’t answer was the one someone in the house was expecting but never mentioned. 

  “Hello?” You asked as you eyed the kitchen you were eager to get to. 

  “Hello?” A male voice came through.

  “Yes?” You frowned, wanting to get on with your evening and not entertain whoever was giving up their own Friday night to call your house.

  “Who is this?” The man asked. 

  “Who are you trying to reach?” You questioned back, maintaining your manners despite not being the least bit interested. 

  “What number is this?” He continued. Okay, you were done with this. 

  “Probably not the one you’re looking for,” you chuckled. “Goodnight,” you said and placed the phone back on the receiver without another word. You started back towards the kitchen when the phone rang behind you again. 

  Seriously?

  You glanced back at the device, wondering if it was just playing up but after several tones you trudged back and picked it up. “Hello,” you answered. 

  “I’m sorry, I had the wrong number,” the man told you with a certain calmness you were supposed to be feeling while you devoured the sugary treat you were craving. 

  “So why’d you dial it again?”

  “To apologise,” he said simply.

  “You’re forgiven, goodnight,” you repeated but apparently the caller wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet. 

  “Wait, wait. Don’t hang up,” he insisted and you wondered briefly if he was as stoned as you could have been. He sounded it.

  “What?”

  “I wanna talk to you for a minute,” he said. You rolled your eyes, mildly amused by the caller’s unusual antics. 

  “There are other numbers for that, bye,” you informed lightly, pressing the phone down firmer than before. You strolled away and the silence remained. 

  The caller left your mind as soon as you began mixing together the ingredients you needed and left your house in a comfortable silence as you worked. Your hands worked absently, placing everything together until you were done. The moment you finished washing your hands, the phone rang again.

  You huffed, picking up the device. “Hello?” You asked, patience clearly running out. 

  “Why don’t you wanna talk to me?” You weren’t surprised to hear his voice.

  “Who is this?” You frowned as you gathered the bowl and a drink in your free hand. 

  “You tell me,” he replied, like he was such a smart ass. “You tell me your name and I’ll tell you mine,” he said playfully. You scoffed a little.

  “I don’t think so,” you told him though you weren’t so quick to hang up this time, hoping that entertaining him for a bit longer would make him stop. 

  “What is that?” He asked instead when you placed the bowl down on the table. 

  “Just something to snack on while I watch a movie,” you explained absently as you retrieved your drink. 

  “What kind?”

  “Just some scary movie,” you told him vaguely because you hadn’t decided on one yet. 

  “You like scary movies?” You smiled at the teasing manner he used whenever people were trying to scare their friends, willing to bet he was leading up to something.

  “Uh huh.”

  “What’s your favourite scary movie?” He asked and you grinned more. 

  “Halloween,” you recited at once. “I like the classics. What’s yours?”

  “Guess.” You opened up Netflix on the tv to put the film on and saw a few horror titles on there to give you some inspiration. “No cheating,” he warned and you scoffed again. 

  “Nightmare on Elm Street,” you suggested. He merely chuckled. 

  “So, you got a boyfriend?” The mystery caller continued. You didn’t comment on the random change of topics as you ventured leisurely around your house double checking all of the locks before you got ready to hang up and settle down. 

  “No, why? Do you want to ask me out on a date?” You entertained further. It wasn’t like you were ever going to meet this guy.

  “Maybe,” he chuckled. “You never did tell me your name?”

  “Why do you wanna know my name?” You approached the front door with an excited spring in your step. 

  “Because I wanna know who I’m looking at.” You swallowed thickly with your hand on the handle of the door, feeling an icy cold drop in your chest as you stood perfectly still. 

  “What did you say?” You spoke slowly, turning the lock on the door without checking if it was already locked or not. 

  “I said I wanna know who I’m talking to,” he replied simply as you exhaled with forceful steadiness. You didn’t respond to him as you switched the porch light on and peered outside. “Hello?” Came the voice as you scanned the area the light cast onto. You found nothing and in a way that felt worse. 

  “Look, I gotta go,” you told him as you turned the porch light off, feeling the need to make it look as though there was no one in the house. Whoever was calling was probably just some bored teenager that wanted to scare you. Maybe they knew you from school and had heard you in passing mention your love for horror movies. 

  “You hang up on me and I’ll gut you like a fish,” he spat, shifting his tone entirely. “Understand?” You didn’t respond, too busy flickering your gaze over every window and door in your immediate vicinity. “Yeah.” You could hear the smile in the sick fucks voice as your hands began to shake. 

  “I wanna play a game with you,” he said. “Can you handle that?” There was a clear taunt to his voice as you approached the window closest to you and peered out into the pitch black. You remembered your science teacher making a comment about light being on one side of a window at night. Though you couldn’t make out a thing in the darkness, anyone on the other side of that glass could see you in your fearful entirety. 

  “Can you see me?” 

  “Listen, I am two seconds from calling the police,” you warned, entirely too aware of how unthreatening you appeared when your voice was shaking and tears were stuck in your throat. 

  “They’d never make it in time,” he told you. 

  “What do you want?” You whimpered, pacing through your home. 

  “To see what your insides look like.” You hung up the phone and frantically dialled the three numbers you needed when the doorbell rang. You stumbled backwards through the corridor to get to the other side of the house while your blurred eyes stayed glued to the front door. 

  “Leave me alone!” You screamed though it did nothing to warn off the trespasser because less than a second later a cloaked figure smashed through the glass door behind you. They shook off the glass and slight disorientation as you bolted out of the room, dropping the phone in your fright. You had never felt fear like it as you heard them run after you, heavy boots crunching on the glass they had shattered to reach you. 

  You had just enough time to unlock and open the front door as you heard the cloaked figure advance and for a brief second you had a spark of hope that if you just kept running, you would escape them. The last thing you had expected was to throw open the door and be faced with the same eerie ghost mask you hadn’t gotten the chance to see the other invader wear. You didn’t give it much thought though, because it was more than obvious that whoever was behind that mask was not someone that wanted to help you. 

  Miraculously, you dodged them both when they lunged for you, sprinting to your right with no real plan as to how you could escape them both while inside your home. Your blood was pumping as fast as the adrenaline struck every limb in your body, willing you to just move. You obeyed, running full force into the solid body that appeared out of nowhere. 

  You grunted and before you could fall down on your own, the third masked figure took hold of your shirt and threw you down to the hard floor behind them with ease. You hit the wooden floor hard, your ribs taking the full impact and aching in protest to the bend they endured. You ignored the ache that was dulled by the shock and scrambled to get to your feet and give yourself some fighting chance against the odds, but a military style boot pressed firmly into the centre of your back and held you in place. Your lungs screamed at the suppression but you were in no state to help. 

  “Please,” you cried out as you tried to reach behind you to scratch at any exposed skin you could find. “I have money,” you attempted to negotiate with tears streaming down your cheeks. 

  “Aw, she has money,” one of them echoed. You recognised that haunting voice. 

  “You,” you whispered. 

  “Me,” the guy from the phone answered back. 

  “Look at all the effort I’ve gone to. Can I ask you out on a date now?” The others chuckled and you frowned at how similar they all sounded. 

  “I’ll do anything,” you told them, still struggling under their weight. 

  “Yes,” they said simply. “You will.” Suddenly, you were kicked onto your back and forced to gaze up at the three strangers before you. The first thing you noticed were the knives. They all held the same dagger that glistened threateningly under your home’s lights, itching to have their polished blade’s stained with whatever they desired to take from you. 

  “You’re going to be our first,” the one closest to you declared as they crouched down next to you and tilted their head, as though considering where to start.

  “You should be honoured,” another told as they strolled around the perimeter of the room until they were in your blind spot. “You’re going to be the first one to feel our blades,” they whispered close to your ear and hauled you up by the hair so you were pressed firmly against their cloaked front and unable to squirm away when their menacing blade was pressed against your neck.

  “So we thought we’d do something a little special for you.” Your desperate attempts to claw at the body behind you only served to amuse the other intruders whose cloaks were too thick for your nails even in your survival fueled strength. 

  “Please!” You begged again, unable to escape the coolness of the blade that was dangerously close to your jugular. It was futile to fight against one of them, never mind hope to get past the two that blocked both your exits. 

  “Please,” the one behind you mocked. “Please what?” They waited patiently for your answer as you stared at them in terror. 

  “Please don’t kill me,” you said quickly, knowing it wasn’t going to make a difference. “If you leave I won’t say anything. I don’t know who any of you are,” you reasoned. They looked between each other in silent communication before reaching for the ghost masks and pulling them swiftly from their heads. 

  What the fuck?

  “What about now?” Wanda asked, a smirk gracing the features that you had always admired from afar. Next to her, Natasha’s gaze bore into yours, void of the clear excitement her girlfriend had and instead looking at you like one of her hunting trophies she had collected from far too young an age. 

  You couldn’t see her, but Carol’s unmistakable voice was by your side. “Now lets play that game.” Her lips ghosted over your neck just under your ear as she spoke and you felt the knife twitch with her impatience. 

  “So competitive,” Wanda chided but her smirk didn’t waver. Natasha remained silent as she watched you. 

  “We’ll give you a five second head start to run,” Carol told you as she reluctantly moved her knife away and shoved you forwards. The pair in front of you stepped aside to create a clear path to the opened front door. 

  “Five,” Carol began and you sprung to your feet. To all of their surprise, you didn’t go for the door, you went for the stairs. 

  The three women were the best athletes in your school and you knew that if you ran out of the house you would have no chance of outrunning any of them, but maybe if you got ahold of the handgun your dad kept in his bedroom, you would stand a better chance of surviving the night. 

  “Four,” they continued as you ascended the stairs, scrambling over the steps quicker than you ever had in your life, even when you were a young child that thought monsters might be following you in the dark. Except this time they really were. 

  “Three.” You barged into your parents room and made for the safe in the corner. 

  “Two.” Your fingers fumbled against the number pad, making you enter the code wrong the first time until it clicked in confirmation for you to swing the door open to present an empty space. Your heart plummeted. 

  “One.” There was no time to ponder the location of the missing weapon, the only thing you could do was sprint to the best exit available. 

  “Ready or not, here we come,” Carol taunted as three sets of boots thudded up the stairs. Taking your chance, you ran to your own room towards the window that was in place just above the porch’s shelter. If you jumped from your own window down to the roof, there would be less chance of you injuring yourself and you would have a better shot of outrunning the intruders. 

  By the time you made it to your window, the first of the three was in your room just in time to see you struggling to pry open the old wood. Your heart hammered in your chest, refusing to look back at them as you failed to get a good grip on the window, unaware that it had been glued shut an hour prior. 

  “It’s almost a shame how predictable you are,” Natasha told you, grabbing you by the arm and hauling you on to your bed. Just as you landed, you leant back and put all of your energy into swinging your elbow into her ribs. She stumbled back at the impact and you moved to strike again but a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you just an inch off the floor. “But at least you’ve got some fight in you,” Natasha quipped as she watched you flair about in Carol’s arms. 

  “Fuck you!” You spat, realising that begging and compromising weren’t going to help you. “Let me go!”

  “But darling, we can’t let you run off now. You’re bleeding,” Wanda told you, voice thick with concern you knew she didn’t have. You frowned, unable to recall when their knives had actually broken skin until you were introduced to Natasha’s dagger. She swiped the fierce blade across your abdomen, slicing through your thin shirt and leaving a trail of red across your skin that made you hiss. It wasn’t deep, but the next one was. 

  “And now you’ve messed up your clothes,” Carol added as she held you firmly against her so that Wanda could tear your shirt off you while you continued to struggle. 

  “You poor thing,” the Sokovian pouted as she examined the scarlet streaks across your stomach, tracing them with her fingers and smearing the blood up to your tits. She groped and pinched at your hardened nipples, chuckling when you turned your head to the side with a whine. 

  “Stop,” you whimpered, voice small. 

  “You’re not in charge here,” Carol warned. Her fingers were digging into your hips so firmly that you were sure she was going to leave you with bruises. You were powerless against it as you squirmed in her grasp, even as she threw you down onto your bed. 

  “Fuck!” You cried out when you felt another slash hit the back of your thighs. You tried to scramble away but a gloved hand wrapped itself around the back of your neck and held you down into the mattress. 

  “You had your chance to run,” Wanda said as she appeared on your pillows and switched her hold to your hair to tug you up and face her. You gritted your teeth with a glare, not ready to give up your fight yet. “Now you do as we say.”

  You continued to glare at the Sokovian as a strong pair of gloved hands lifted your hips up to slide your shorts and underwear down painfully slowly, just because they could. The cold air hit you and sent a shiver through your body while your cheeks heard in embarrassment at being so exposed to the woman. You were sure Wanda’s heavy gaze noticed, but she didn’t comment, instead focused on rubbing her covered thumb across your lips. 

  “Open up.” She tapped them twice but you kept your lips firmly together. She smiled, amused, then delivered a harsh slap to your cheeks that heated them further. You still didn’t comply until she slapped you harder and your mouth fell open in shock, giving Wanda the chance to slip her fingers into your mouth and immediately press down on your tongue. You went to bite down on the rough material but the hand in your hair was suddenly gripping your jaw and holding it apart. You gagged slightly around her digits, trying your best to block out the laughter you heard around the room. 

  “I bet you’ll look so good choking on my strap,” Wanda mumbled, enchanted by the sight of you drooling around her gloves. Your protests were incoherent and you had a hard time not letting your head empty as Wanda slowly thrust her fingers. Even when she took her fingers out to pull her gloves off before filling your mouth again, you didn’t mumble a complaint…until you felt two fingers stroke your bare cunt. 

  You tried to twist around to at least see who it was, but Wanda was adamant on keeping your gaze fixed on her as one of the women collected the wetness you didn’t know was there and rubbed several circles on your clit. Your hips bucked involuntarily and you whined around Wanda’s digits. 

  “What was it that got you so sweet, doll?” Carol asked. “Was it when Natasha cut you? When we chased you up the stairs? Told you all those nasty things on the phone?” The blonde didn’t expect an answer and didn’t wait for one. She pushed two fingers forwards, groaning when your pussy took her in. You heard her curse and wanted to thrash away, but it was hard to deny how good it felt to have her skilled fingers inside you. 

  “Desperate whore,” Natasha commented as she appeared by Wanda’s side. The pair shared a passionate kiss as the Sokovian continued to thrust her own fingers and you couldn’t help but clench at the sight. 

  “You like watching them, doll? I didn’t take you for a voyeur,” Carol chuckled, curling her digits to elicit the reaction she wanted. You moaned when she brushed against the spot you needed, momentarily forgetting about the weapons they held until Natasha placed hers against your jugular. 

  “Malysh, let us play a little longer,” Wanda pouted to her lover. Natasha’s blank eyes bore into your own, still void of the excitement the other women held. Still, she pulled her knife away with a huff, making her girlfriend giggle as though she had become giddy at the promise of impending violence. “Let’s keep her entertained so she doesn’t regret that, huh?” Wanda whispered with a grin. You had always loved seeing her smile from afar, but in that moment you could only see the craze that sparkled in her eyes. She was terrifying, but still beautiful. 

  Almost so beautiful that between her and the fingers still steadily fucking you, you didn’t notice her unzip her trousers and pull out her strap until she was forcing you down on it. Your gags filled the room as she pushed you down by the back of your head, moaning softly at the way you struggled to take her. Tears filled your eyes and a distinct burning started up at the back of your throat as Wanda tried to break through. Your lips were wrapped so perfectly around her that she couldn’t help but buck her hips up slightly to chase some friction at your expense while you hit her thighs. 

  “Fuck, you get so tight when you can’t breath,” Carol groaned as pushed a third finger into you and scissored her digits slightly to enhance the stretch. Before you could grow accustomed, she pulled her soaked fingers out and pressed her own silicone toy between your legs. She prodded bashfully at your throbbing clit until you were shaking, wetting the length of the toy. 

  Carol muttered a curse when she pressed the head of her cock against your entrance that refused to part for her. You whimpered around the toy stuffing your mouth, feeling how large Carol was against you and how much it might hurt when she-

  “Take it,” the blonde hissed when she finally forced her strap inside your cunt. Your legs gave out but she quickly took hold of your hips and used them to thrust further, deeper, inside you. 

  “How’s that feel, love?” Wanda asked as she brushed your hair away from your features that were blurred with pain and pleasure. The stretch was intense and it was hard to imagine a point that you would even begin to adjust to Carol’s size as she refused to let up, adamant that you take all of her. “You look so pretty getting stuffed like a good fucktoy,” she told you, almost in a singsong tone. “Don’t you think?” Wanda turned to her partner who sat in your chair to the side, her gaze dead set on you. If you hadn’t already been so overstimulated, you would have shuddered. Natasha was looking at you like you were her prey and you couldn’t hold her gazy any longer. 

  Carol didn’t pause for a second when her hips finally pressed against your own. She didn’t give you a moment to adjust or prepare, she instantly drew her hips back only to slam the entire length back into your abused cunt. You cried out, tears streaming down your cheeks. 

  Wanda cooed at the sight of you struggling to take them both, whispering condescending praises that you couldn’t pick up entirely. ‘Sweet fuck’ and ‘good whore’ were all you picked up as Wanda held you by the hair and made you continuously deepthroat her own toy while Carol pumped her cock in from behind, pace unrelenting. Your cunt burned in a pleasure you never could have imagined, bringing out moans you didn’t want to please the intruders with but couldn’t stop. It just felt so good to be used. Too good, more than you could hold off on. 

  “Gonna cum,” you managed to communicate when your whines grew louder and Wanda pulled you off her strap, spit down your chin and coating her toy. 

  “Cum for us,” Wanda said, pupils blown with lust at the sight beneath her. She pushed her strap back into your mouth but this time angled it slightly lower so that the harness could provide better friction for her clit. You didn’t realise what you were doing for her until you registered the stutter of her hips as she came with you. 

  “Fuck,” Wanda voiced as you cried out around her strap, clenching and pulsing around the cock in your pussy as Carol continued to fuck you relentlessly, pace still harsh. You shuddered and moaned, unable to distinguish up from down as your high was drawn out and you were sent toppling into a second one. 

  “Greedy thing,” you vaguely heard Natasha mutter as she stood up from the chair. Her boots thudded as she stalked towards the tangle of bodies, still only eyeing you. 

  “Come on, Nat. If she wants more, let's give her more,” Carol said, a smirk on her features that you never got to see. Natasha hummed, a trace of a smile threatening to break through.

  As pathetic as it was, you could have cried when Carol pulled out. You immediately felt empty but bit your tongue when you felt a pair of hands haul you up the bed until you were straddling Wanda’s own piece that glistened in the low light. She didn’t give you any instructions or warnings, merely pulled your hips down until you were half way filled with her strap. Without anything to stop you this time, your moans bounced off of the walls. 

  Despite the laughter you heard, you were also met with a firm slap to the face from Natasha. She still had her gloves on and had more force to the act than Wanda did, more aggression. It was clear that out of the three, she was the one that wanted to hurt you the most. She grabbed your chin, assessing you for a hard minute as you grinded into the base of Wanda’s strap. 

  “Danvers, come here,” she said without taking her eyes off of you. Carol grumbled something about the redhead not being in charge but complied as the two swapped places. It unnerved you greatly to know she was lurking somewhere behind you, but the other women kept your focus on them. 

  Wanda suddenly bucked her hips up and took a hold of your waist, making you follow her shallow thrusts as though she didn’t want to be that far from you. It meant that the head of her cock hit the back of your pussy more often and with more force and it felt incredible. 

  “You look so good like this,” Wanda husked, her accent slipping through slightly in her haze. 

  “Keep her still,” Natasha’s voice came behind you. Wanda stilled her movements and slapped your thigh when you tried to move against her. You met her smirk with a silent plea until you felt two wet fingers prod against your ass. 

  “Wait-” you tried but Natasha was already pushing them into the first knuckle, despite your discomfort. 

  “No,” the redhead said back as her lips ghosted over your shoulder and her teeth sunk into your skin. You whined at the dual pain and in trying to move away only made the strap shift inside you. 

  It was all too much as you felt Natasha begin to thrust her fingers into your ass steadily. She twisted and curled her fingers before fanning them out to open you up while Wanda began to move your hips once more. The discomfort and pleasure blurred together until you found yourself craving anything they gave you. Your moans picked up more when Carol’s lips found your nipples. 

  “You’ll take what we give you,” Natasha said, gliding her dagger around your torso where the looming threat settled. She pulled her fingers out of your tightest hole only to swiftly replace them with her strap.

  “Fuck, please!” You gasped at the sudden intrusion. “Too much,” you tried to communicate as you felt your body stretch once more. 

  “Shut her up,” Natasha huffed as she bore more of her weight down on you so that you took more of her piece. Your walls stretched so painfully that you almost didn’t register the cut to your torso. You cried out and fell against Wanda only to be pushed back so Carol could slide her strap between your lips. 

  With all three of them pounding into you in a purely primal manner, your body finally gave in to their assaults. Your eyes glazed over, unable to focus on any one thing as every thought in your mind struggled to make itself known. All you were aware of was the way seemingly every nerve in your defeated body was ablaze with an onslaught on sensations. The three women eventually found a rhythm to fall into together that ensured you were never empty, even as drops of blood fell from your scarlet chest you were too lost in the pleasure to acknowledge. 

  “You’re going to be the prettiest victim,” Natasha mumbled against your ear, biting the lobe softly. You whimpered, though not in fear. Their straps were hitting your depths over and over, never letting up for a second. Your holes welcomed them greedily, clenching around the silicone everytime they pulled out and making each woman grunt at the tightness. They made comments you mostly missed, but the degradation you picked up on only made you wetter, as Wanda pointed out. They were ruthless and even when you came again, they didn’t stop. 

  You whined around Carol’s toy, trying desperately to communicate how sore and used you felt. You needed a break to let your body recover, but it was made clear to you that you were done when the three women agreed you were. They pulled more orgasms from your wrecked frame, not caring when you soaked Wanda’s thighs with your cum or Carol’s with your spit. When you eventually passed out from the overstimulation, they withdrew. 

  You slumped against the Sokovian in an exhausted heap, barely able to keep your eyes open as she cooed to you how much of a perfect slut you were for them. You mumbled a protest when you were manoeuvred onto your back on the bed, finally opening your eyes to see Wanda leaning over you with a deranged look upon her face and shimmering knife in hand. “I know,” she said softly when your eyes widened in fear and tried to move your spent frame. “It’s scary, but you knew this bit would happen,” she continued, stroking your face as she dug the knife under your chin. 

  Carol and Wanda appeared at her side and you finally saw Natasha smile. She was smug, they all were. They had won. “Thank you for this, baby,” Wanda said, raising her dagger above her head. “You’ll look beautiful with our knives in you.”

  Then she struck.

[revelboo]

It was a happy day when I found this treasure trove of reader insert transformers fics <3 Thank you for writing these.

You mentioned that the idw/g1 wheeljack fic is currently your favourite, what a coincidence it also happens to be my current favourite :D I swear that mech is criminally under appreciated. If you still have the enthusiasm to write that one I would love to see more. I need to see the human reassure wheeljack that they are not going to just abandon him. Please he deserves the world :')

Oooh drama. Yes, please

Circuits and Wires Pt 4

IDW Wheeljack x Reader

• Bent over a project, he’s aware of you watching him. Also very aware that you’re sitting crosslegged much closer to what he’s working on than he’d like and the little clinking as you toy with the pin to the fire extinguisher in your lap is distracting him. It’s not because you don’t trust him, but because his latest doohickey just keeps overheating and catching on fire. And he almost suspects that you’re enjoying putting the fire out and then walking over to drag a new extinguisher closer from the pile.

• Honestly, you’d have given up after whatever that thing is had caught on fire the first three times, but that’s one of the things you like best about Wheeljack. No matter how many times he fails, he doesn’t get discouraged or give up. He just laughs it off, that low, rumbling sound warm as it spreads through you and he starts over. You like watching him work, hearing him try to explain stuff to you, talking like he’s certain you can understand even if you rarely do. And this experiment isn’t the explosive kind at least. “You’ve got it this time,” you say, smiling up at him when he glances your way. Those vocal indicator fins on his helmet flicker mauve before shifting back to their normal cheery blue.

• No matter how many times he fails, you just keep encouraging him and that spreads warm through him, twines about his spark as he pauses to reach and run the tip of a servo over your cheek and you rest your palm against him. Smiling and that little thing reminds him that this can’t last no matter how much he wants it to. But he can’t keep delaying, sooner or later you’re going to get hurt. “Been talking to a few bots,” he says, reluctantly breaking that contact when he just wants to pick you up, hold on to this. “I think Ratch might take you on. You could help out with little stuff he can’t easily get to.”

• Your breath catches as you stare up at him, trying to figure out what you did wrong. Why he doesn’t want you with him anymore. Probably because he has to worry about you getting hurt all the time, divide his time between his work and you. Maybe he’s grown to resent that. Shoulders slumping, you nod and twist your back on him, because you’re not about to start bawling about this even if his rejection hurts. “If I did something wrong, just tell me,” you say, hating how your voice hitches. “I’ll stop doing it.”

• The hurt in your voice surprises him. That you think he’s just annoyed with you and trying to pawn you off. “It’s not anything you did.” It’s him. How can you not understand that everyone else is right and he’s a walking disaster area? You can’t be just more collateral damage. “The lab isn’t safe for humans. Ratch can-“

• “I don’t want to stay with Ratchet,” you mutter, shoulders hunching and still refusing to look at him. Because you are crying now and you scrub at your face with the back of a hand, mortified and angry. “I like being with you.” You big, sweet idiot. Hiding your face in your hands when he walks around and resisting when he uses a servo to try and move your hands away. Giving up hiding the crying, you swat his servo and glare up at him, aware of how red and splotchy your face must be. The way he freezes, his vocal indicators an edgy yellow-green. “I want to stay.” Don’t make me leave, please.

• Oh. Your chin lifts even as tears roll down your cheeks, because he’s seriously misjudged how attached you are to him and it’s a surprise that warms him. Because you’re this upset about being separated from him and it does things to his spark. You really care this much about him? He’s reaching for you, servos closing around you to lift you and cradle you against the warm mesh of his neck. Shivering as you press your wet cheek against him, making that little, broken sound that hurts his spark. “I want you to stay, too,” he admits, even as worry eats at him. He can protect you, even from himself. He has to, because he can’t lose this.

Previous

My workplace’s theme for Halloween is 80s and one of my coworkers asked if I had any toys from that era or inspired by it. And I think I worried her when I just grinned like a crazy person and asked how much she needed, because I have TRANSFORMERS- and she accidentally gave me an excuse to share my nerdy stuff. Poor kid had that vaguely uncomfortable look people get when they realize they’ve just made a critical, possibly catastrophic error.

Maybe I made the error- a coworker just put on the Megatron helmet and went through the building loudly declaring that they’re Optimus Prime… I just don’t have the heart to correct them…

[aquaticmercy]

Waste a moment / Part 3

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.

Requested by :  @remoony

Word count : 2.5k

Note : I’ve got so many people requesting to be tagged and for that I love you all! Please let me know if you wanna be tagged! P.s. I am just about to watch Agatha and I’m so nervous and excited at the same time!

Series Masterlist

“The Wandering Man”

Tuesday night.

When you got to Bucky’s place, it was quiet. 

Too quiet.

The lights were too dim, the air felt too still. The apartment had been waiting for something, or someone, to breathe life into it.

Bucky led you inside without saying much, only a few words of reassurance, and a few how are you holding up?s here and there.

He showed you to the guest room, small but comfortable and cosy. A soft bed was tucked into the corner under a window that overlooked the city lights. It felt both safe and strange, for reasons you could not quite comprehend yet.

You stood there, unsure of what to do with yourself. You didn’t know if you were supposed to feel relieved, maybe grateful? All you felt was confusion. 

Before long, he returned with a familiar-smelling cup of tea. It was your favourite tea, even though you could not recall ever telling him before.

Bucky he set the cup on the table. His smile was soft, almost practised, as if he had rehearsed how to be gentle with you. 

You stared at it for a moment, then back at him, before picking it up. The tea was hot in your hands, the steam curling in a way that should have felt comforting— but instead, the scent of it haunted you like a ghost haunted an abandoned house.

You took a sip. “You knew.”

“You always liked it.” Bucky offered a small, almost shy smile. “You used to make it for me when I had trouble sleeping.”

I wouldn’t accept it. I didn't think I deserved this, Bucky thought to himself, but he decided not to tell you. Yet. 

“You should get some rest,” Bucky said, his voice gentle. “It’s been a long day.”

You nodded, but the moment you sat on the centre of the bed, you knew sleep wasn’t going to come easily. The gravity of everything—the missing years, the lost memories— pressed down on your shoulders, making your chest constrict.

Bucky's quiet support, staying with a friend,  should have soothed you, but his kindness felt like an intrusion—a reminder that you were a stranger in your own life, occupying a space you no longer belonged in.

Wednesday.

The next morning, you woke to the scent of coffee. 

Bucky knocked lightly on your door before stepping inside, holding a mug. His smile was hesitant as he handed it to you.

You accepted it with a quiet “thanks.”

“Everything can be as slow or as quick as you like. Some of the others want to see you, but you don’t have to unless you’re ready.” He paused for a second, before saying, “You can stay with me as long as you want.”

His voice was calm, steady, trying to keep your world from spinning too fast. You nodded, weighing his offer.

As you sipped the coffee, warmth spread through your chest. It was perfect. The perfect amount of milk. The perfect amount of sugar.

He knew.

—

The conversation unfolded slowly throughout the day, a gentle ebb and flow that mirrored the tentative trust being rebuilt between you and him. 

At first, it was just small talk, safe topics that didn’t demand too much of either of you—things like the weather, the view from his apartment, the streets below. As the day wore on, the conversations grew a little deeper.

“You’ve lived here a while?” you asked, glancing around the living room, noting how sparsely decorated it was. There was a sense of calm in the simplicity, but with it a hint of reluctance to make this space feel truly like home.

“Yeah, a couple of years now,” Bucky replied. “It’s not much, but it’s quiet.”

You nodded, sensing the weight of his words. “Quiet can be good,” you chuckled, almost cathartic. “I guess I don’t really know what I need right now.”

His blue eyes were understanding, though you could tell there was something hidden behind them. “That’s okay.”

You offered a small, grateful smile. 

The longer it stretched, the more peaceful the silence became. You were not friends yet, not really. Not him and this version of you.

But if you trusted him before— and your instincts told you that you did— he must be a good person. 

So far, you enjoyed his company, and he did not demand friend out of you, not the same way Sam did. 

He was not disappointed by your lack of acknowledgement. He just seemed to be happy you were there.

For now, you could just live in the present, as if standing at the edge of a doorway without needing to cross it just yet.

Then, after sensing your ease, he shared a memory, trying to fill the gaps that were left in your mind. 

“Do you remember the time we went hiking outside the city? I think it was after Happy’s birthday party. Everyone else was hungover, but you dragged me out at the crack of dawn.”

You blinked, trying to pull the threads together, but nothing came. “I don’t... I don’t remember.”

“We got lost for hours.” Bucky smiled faintly, a touch of sadness in his eyes. “You swore you knew the way, so I didn’t bother questioning you. I just followed.”

“I-I’m sorry.” you said quietly, unsure of what the nature of the memory was.

“No, no.” He chuckled lightly. “We ended up finding this little stream. We just sat there for a while, didn’t talk much, just... listened.”

You tried to picture it, to feel that day as vividly as Bucky seemed to, but all you could grasp were shadows. “I wish I could remember.”

“You will. Or you won’t. Either way, it’s okay,” he said, his voice low and reassuring. But beneath the calm mask he put on, Bucky’s thoughts churned. 

He had secretly loved that hike. But when you coaxed him out that day, he had been cold, distant, as always. He had criticised everything you did, grumbled when you got lost. 

But you? You were calm that day, as you had been every other day. You were patient with him. You had seen that he needed to get out of his apartment, see the world that he inhabited for once. 

You pulled him out of the darkness that day. Kept him sane. 

God, I’m sorry... for everything you don’t remember. For everything I said and for everything I didn’t, he thought to himself. 

He didn’t let it show, though, didn’t let his guilt fade into the background. Instead, he focused on the present, the small victories of connection that he made with you, hoping it would make up for all the distance he put there before.

—

Later, after ordering dinner and eating quietly, you sat together on the couch. 

You mustered up all the courage you could find asked him something that had been on your mind. “What was I like?”

Bucky hesitated for a moment, knowing he needed to choose his words carefully. “Strong. Stubborn,” he told you. “Kind. You always saw the good in people.”

You stared at him, searching for any clues of insincerity and found none, though the tremble in his lips suggested there was more to his answer than he was letting on. 

Still, it was hard to reconcile the person he described with the emptiness you felt now. Hearing him talk about you—about her—you began to understand why everyone seemed so hurt about losing who you became in the last four years.

You nodded, trying to imagine that version of yourself. “It’s hard to picture.”

Bucky glanced down. He found it hard to picture who he was before all this, too. 

He had changed so much in the past few days. He had changed so drastically in the way he treated you, that he was torn between whether he should remind you of what he'd said before your mission.

His own words echoed in his head: ‘I feel like I can't breathe around you.’

Seeing you like this, disoriented and vulnerable, he questioned if you really needed to know how cruel he'd been before.

For now, the guilt of it now belonged to him alone. 

He knew he would have trouble hiding the ache in his chest, knowing that he had hurt you, knowing that he had pushed you away when all you had ever offered was kindness.

But maybe that thrumming pain was worth it.

This was his second chance. 

He could be better. He could finally be the friend you deserved, even if you never remembered what had happened between you. 

He could be patient, he could be there for you, without the burden of the past hovering over every word. Bucky didn’t know if you would ever regain your memories, but for once, he didn’t need to fix things. 

All he had to do was be there.

“You don’t have to picture it,” he said gently, “you’re still that person.”

As you spent the rest of the evening getting to know him, he realised how much he had missed this—your presence, your laughter, even the way you furrowed your brow when you were lost in thought. He had been so afraid of it before, afraid of getting too close. 

Almost losing you had shaken him to his core. This time, he wasn’t sure he could survive pushing you away again.

So, he didn’t.

Thursday. 

Bucky stood by the door of the medical bay, his posture tense. He watched carefully as the doctor completed the exam. 

He had taken you back to the compound to see a doctor, to get you properly discharged. You did run out, after all. 

You sat on the table, blinking against the harsh lights, your mind struggling to clear the fog that clung to your thoughts.

The doctor's explanation confirmed what Bucky had already suspected. The confusion, the disorientation—it was all normal after what you'd been through. He had said it was a good thing you were staying with a familiar face, though you didn't have the heart to tell him he wasn’t familiar to you.

Everyone around you just told you that he was.

When the doctor finished, Bucky gently helped you down from the table. He guided you through the sterile hallways, bringing you home to his apartment.

Friday. 

Bucky’s bathroom was dimly lit, a faint glow from mirror nightlight casting uneasy shadows against the walls. You stood in front of the mirror, hesitating to look at the reflection that would greet you. 

You’d avoided it until now, not wanting to confront the parts of yourself that didn’t make sense. The parts that didn’t look like it belonged. That didn’t look feel it belonged.

But today, after hours of consideration and glancing at your reflection, you dared to lift your eyes to meet the unfamiliar person staring back at you.

The image of your own face was uncanny. 

The ends of your hair were frayed and split, the wear of weeks without proper care was evident. 

There were the scars. Angry, jagged lines that trailed down the side of your face, ghosting over your cheekbone, one disappearing into your hairline. Those were the scars from the last mission, they had said. The head injury that cost you your memories. 

Your eyes trailed down, seeing bruises scattered across your shoulders, deeper marks that told stories your mind couldn’t piece together.

You lifted your hand, making sure your reflection followed you. Making sure this was still you— and it was.

You didn’t recognize this person.

You didn’t recognize yourself.

The grief that you had been avoiding for days struck like lightning— the years stolen from you. The friends you couldn’t remember, the disconnect your soul felt from your body. Your chest tightened as tears spilled over, and you clutched the sink, knuckles hurting.

Keep yourself together.

You’re stronger than this, dammit.

The bathroom door was barely ajar, but it was just enough for Bucky to catch the muffled sound of your quiet sobs. 

He knew how disorienting it was— how painful it could be, waking up and not recognizing your own life. 

He stepped closer, knocking on the door before opening it. "You okay?"

You quickly wiped your eyes, straightening your posture. You tried to compose yourself before he could notice, but you didn’t know you were too late.

“Yeah,” you sniffled, forcing a shaky laugh. “It’s just… I think I need a trim. My hair’s a mess.”

Bucky nodded, the lines of his forehead softening. He knew that wasn’t why you were crying, but he didn’t pry, didn’t push. If you needed time to admit to him— or to yourself— how much you were hurting, he would wait, even if it meant waiting forever.

“I can help,” he offered quietly. "I trim my own hair. I’ve got the scissors for it."

You hesitated, biting your lip. “That would be good.”

Bucky left for a moment, returning with a small set of scissors and a comb. The nothingness between you was gentle, not awkward at all. 

Bucky stood behind you, his touch careful as he gathered your hair, brushing through the tangled strands.

His hands, though large, moved with a delicacy that you didn’t realise he was capable of. He barely spoke as he worked on your hair, methodical and focused. 

You couldn’t help but notice how close he was, the soft sound of his breath on your ears. His metal fingers occasionally grazed the back of your neck, sending a slight shiver through you.

"The scars and bruises," he said softly after a few moments, as if he could sense your tension. “They’re a part of you. Doesn’t mean they’re all of you.”

You wanted to believe him, but it was hard to see anything beyond the damage when you didn’t know where it came from. 

It was hard to accept the version of yourself that had come out of that mission that had ruined your life, though you didn’t even remember how.

“I don’t even remember how I got them,” you whispered, your voice thick. 

“But that doesn’t change who you are.” Bucky paused, his hands still in your hair for a brief moment. “It doesn’t change what you mean to me.”

Your breath hitched at the implication of his words, but you didn’t say anything. 

He resumed trimming, the sound of the scissors snipping through the strands echoing in the room. 

“You’ve got a lot of split ends,” he said. "I’ll take care of them."

You managed a soft laugh, despite the tears still burning at the corners of your eyes. “Thanks, Bucky.”

He continued working in silence until he finished. 

“There,” he said, setting the scissors down and stepping back to admire his work. “I think you look beautiful.”

As you once again looked into the mirror, you looked a bit more familiar. 

Bucky had trimmed your hair from memory, from what he remembered it looked like when you first joined the team, hoping it would help. 

“Bucky?” You called after a moment of silence.

“Hm?” He replied.

“Do you think our friends can start visiting next week?”

-to be continued…

Taglist: @hzdhrtss @irisk12 @tayyyystan @seventeen-x @lomlbuckybarnes 

@greatenthusiasttidalwave @avatarofthetimelords @bckynatt @winchestert101 @zemosprincesa 

@nngkay @hiireadstuff @sapphirebarnes @thatesqcrush @bethexo07 

@florie1 @nyutasgirl @coraliix @harrysgothicbitch @jules-and-gemss

@infqnitysblog @isnow-0r-never @roofwitty779 @baw1066 @wasalreadyhere

@cjand10 @greatmistakes @winterslove1917 @calwitch @sebastians-love

@gyllord @brckenmemories @ethereal-witch24 @diffidentphantom

@avatarofthetimelords @lumidotexe @oscarissac2099 @currentfacination @pono-pura-vida

@blackbirdwitch22 @royalwriteroftheuniverse @ayayaeyato @btssaysstudy @unaxv

[unhxlyim]

Stray Kids + casual (fwb)

fwb!straykids x reader, angst, suggestive. no gender specified for reader (I think??). hyung line. Based on the song ‘Casual’ by Chappell Roan

notes: hi!! This is my first little bit of fan fiction in so long, so I hope you guys like it. I probably got a little carried away but this has been in my drafts for months and months. I’m sorta new into stray kids too so I hope this is okay. Thanks for reading!!

Bangchan:

“I thought you thought of me better; someone you couldn’t lose. You said ‘we’re not together’ so now, when we kiss, I have anger issues.”

It was confusing. The way he kissed you until he couldn’t breathe, how he pushed you up against the kitchen island as you wore his tshirt. This is how you spent most weekends. He’d come over and you’d watch movies together, cook together, catch up on what had happened during the week. And it was confusing as fuck. He’d make you feel so special; bringing you snacks (your favourites, even though you’d never explicitly said which ones you preferred), always cleaning up after you made a meal, truly seeming like he listened to whatever you said and asked about the other people in your life, and the sex. It wasn’t just sex, he put his heart and soul into it. Even in your past relationships, you’d never been taken care of like this before. Most of the time, it was easy to feel like you were dating him because of all this. But this wasn’t a relationship. He told you that himself.

He didn’t remind you of it often but, damn, did he choose his moments to remind you. When you’d watch a rom com and he’d make a comment about ‘wanting something like that in the future’; when you’d tell him about an argument your best friend had with their partner and he’d say ‘see, this is why I don’t date’; when he laid his head in your lap and let you stroke his hair before opening his phone to start texting another girl in front of you. It made you angry in a way that not a lot of other things could but you bit your tongue. If this was how you could keep him, even if it was casual, you’d do that.

“It’s hard being casual when I’m on the phone talking down your sister.”

It was another typical weekend together for the two of you. Doing completely domestic and relationship-y things while being reminded by the clench of your heart and the drop in your stomach that he wasn’t yours. This didn’t stop you from daydreaming about it, only being helped by the fact that you were both chilling watching a film while he spoke to his sister on the phone next to you as he drew patterns on your legs with his fingertips. You had become so entwined in each others’ lives; meeting small amounts of friends and speaking so much about family members, that it wasnt even strange when he turned to you with panic in his eyes and thrust his phone into your hands, “I don’t know what to say to her, she wants to speak to you!” And you had fallen so much that you put the phone to your ear and comforted his sister for the next 30 minutes as she cried to you about some asshole from a dating app that stood her up. All the while, Chan peppered appreciative kisses on your cheeks and played with your hair as he pulled you into his lap. But this was all just ‘casual’.

Lee Know:

“My friends call me a loser cause I’m still hanging around. I’ve heard so many rumours that I’m just a girl that you bang on the couch.”

You loved your friends—you did—but they did not encourage your delusions at all. “With all the love in the world, you’re an idiot…” you dropped your head down onto your hands as they rested on the tabletop, letting out a dramatic sigh, “he’s an asshole. Tell him to take you on a date for once and not just fuck you into his sofa!” Your other friends had heard this spiel before and you were currently going through it again with your best friend as you sat in the corner of the café. You were in no position to argue with her when you thought exactly the same, but you mumbled anyway, “…he does do it pretty good though.”

“Oh I give up!” She threw her hands in the air with mock annoyance (that definitely did not come from a valid place), “I just want him to treat you right. I know you joke but we can all see how much you like him and I’ll be damned if I let him break your heart”. Of course, she was talking about Lee Minho. There was no else she could be talking about, no one else you were currently ‘seeing’ (despite the façade you put on). This situationship was a complicated one and it had been that way for a while. Everyone—well, not everyone—knew you two were sleeping together. But this was college, everyone did that. What they didn’t know was how he was so caring and affectionate towards you during those times. You didn’t dare point that out to your friends though because they would quickly point out (and rightly so) that that affection only extended to sex, but that didn’t fit with the narrative you wanted so you kept your mouth shut on that one.

“I know you worry about me but I’m not stupid, I know we’re not together” you said, almost trying to convince yourself as well as them. Your best friend—the one you’d cried to countless times about him—looked at you with a sad smile on her face, “block his number then, go no contact. If you still want to sleep with him in a few weeks then be my guest, but see what a little bit of space does for you first.” It wasn’t a bad suggestion, even if the thought of not seeing as regularly as you currently did made you feel a little sick. With all your friends around you in agreement, you felt confident enough to pick up the phone and proceed with her request. “Okay, I guess that’s a good idea. How hard could it be?” That was until your phone dinged in your hand, and all your friends whipped their heads towards you. Your best friend started to shake her head but you couldn’t help it, quickly looking down and reading the text in front of you.

minho: u free tonight, babygirl?

You knew you were going to disappoint the friends currently sitting around you but you couldn’t stop yourself from replying within seconds, the plan to block him now completely forgotten.

Changbin:

“I know, ‘Baby, no attachment’ but we’re knee deep in the passenger seat and you’re eating me out. Is it casual now?”

He climbed up your body from where he had been kneeling between your legs in the footwell of his car, wiping the glisten from around his mouth on the back of his hand before he kissed you deeply. Your mind was blurry and your vision was the same, clinging onto his shoulders for dear life as he kissed you more and more feverishly. The passenger seat you were sat in was already reclined all the way back so he was laying on top of you as he kissed down your neck. “Bin…”, you started with no real plan of what you actually wanted to say because his presence always made your mind swim. He chuckled a little and smirked up at you as he carried on kissing your neck, “what’s wrong, baby?” You hated it when he called you that. It made the whole ‘no attachment’ rule so much harder, you could just crumple into his arms and stay there forever. It didn’t help matters that he used that word so liberally, almost like he was testing how attached to him he could make you. “We need to go back, they’re going to wonder where you are”, it was almost 2 in the morning and his flatmates would have definitely noticed he was gone by now. He gripped his hands around your hips, gently flipping you over so you sat on top of him (albeit cramped in the small space of the car). “I don’t care,” he carried on kissing down your bare chest. “I’m not done with you yet”.

When the two of you had these moments, it was hard to imagine that you weren’t together. He let his hands wander as he carried on speaking, roaming down your back and squeezing your ass, “they don’t know about you anyway”. There it was, there was the kicker that brought you back to reality. It always seemed to rear it’s ugly head. You couldn’t remember which one of you suggested this ‘no attachment’ rule and which one of you was stupid enough to agree but, just like your feelings for him, it always reappeared at the most unfortunate moments. Your back got a little straighter, not caring if he could sense the tension in your body, “n-no ‘course”.

“That came out harsher than I meant, I’m sorry”, he tried to run his hand gently across your cheek but you moved away, suddenly very aware that you felt this vulnerable while you sat naked on top of him. This happened from time to time too, the feeling of guilt and filth that washed over you. You knew he didn’t mean to make you feel like this intentionally but, regardless, you felt like his dirty little secret. “I’ve gotta get back anyway, I’ve got work early in the morning.” you mumbled, climbing off his lap and pulled your clothes back on quickly.

He met your eyes as soon as you spoke, slight panic in his own eyes that definitely didn’t match the way he’d so confidently wrapped your thighs around his head not too long before, “Oh…yeah no worries,” that was one thing you appreciated at least, he never argued once this came up. Even though you wanted him to—you wanted him to grab you and kiss you like you dreamed of, declaring his love for you and denouncing this fucking stupid arrangement you had. But that never came, and he always dropped you home, kissing your cheek before you hopped out of the car.

Hyunjin:

“Dumb love, I love being stupid. Dream of us in a year. Maybe we’d have an apartment and you’d show me off to your friends at the pier.”

It wasn’t like you were completely invisible to others in his life but you definitely blended into the background; something Hyunjin could conveniently brush off if one of his friends started asking too many questions. You didn’t go out together much in public (which you had convinced yourself was because of both of your study commitments and definitely not an indication that Hyunjin had commitment issues). This ‘arrangement’ you had going had lasted around five months before you started imagining Hyunjin having a more permanent place in your life; taking you out with his friends, going on day trips, even just having a drink together in a bar.

You weren’t in the same group of friends but your group and his would frequently go to the same parties; you had grown to regret that actually. That’s how you and Hyunjin met, drunk and dancing on each other before he pulled you to an empty bedroom upstairs. And that’s how you ended up standing against the wall, bass boosting in your chest and alcohol sloshing around in your cup, as you stared across the room at Hyunjin flirting with another girl. It wasn’t the first time you’ve had to watch him flirting with someone else at one of these stupid parties, but this time seemed worse for some reason.

Whether it was because he was all over her, because of the fantasies of the two of you running around your head, or because your best friend (who was the only one you had told about this hook-up-turned-situationship) was watching you out of her eye with pity on her face, you’d surprised both of you when you grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the beer pong table where Hyunjin’s friends were drunkenly shouting as they played. “Please don’t let me sleep with him tonight, I fucking hate him”, you said as you looked at her with pleading eyes. You both knew that wasnt entirely true but she nodded and you both promised that you’d stay away from him as she pushed in for the two of you to get in on the game of beer pong. Surprisingly, it proved to be quite the distraction. You’d probably been playing for 30 minutes before Hyunjin texted you.

hyunjin: meet me upstairs quickly? ;)

You showed your friend the text quickly and she took your phone from you before you could reply. Again, to your surprise, it seemed easy to carry on with your game and push him to the back of your mind for a while. That was until you had to excuse yourself to go to the toilet.

You swore to yourself that you weren’t going up to him. You were going upstairs to use the bathroom and that was it. Until you felt his hands on your waist and let yourself be pulled back against his chest at the top of the stairs, “fancy seeing you up here, pretty girl…”

The scent was familiar and your brain immediately surrendered as you followed him lovestruck into one of the empty rooms. You’d make good on your promise to your friend another time.

[no-144444]

the grid: late for a date!

Day 29 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Daniel Riccardo, Charles LeClerc, Max Verstappen

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Oscar Piastri: miscommunication

So, it wasn’t a date. As much as you thought it was, Lando showed up. That wasn’t uncommon for your ‘dates’ to turn into ‘Oscar and Lando time’, but it still pissed you off. You just wanted one night with your boyfriend. Not Lando’s.  

You huffed as you sat down at your vanity, carefully cleaning off your face with a wipe. 

“You’re annoyed,” Oscar stated, leaning against the door and watching you. 

“I’m not,” you sighed, truthfully just wanting to be left alone. 

“You clearly are,” he said matter-of-factly. “Talk to me.”

“I thought it was a date,” you explained sheepishly. “I was a little disappointed when Lando showed up. I thought it was just us two, y’know, since we haven’t gone out ‘just us’ in months.”

He sighed and looked down. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Osc, it's fine. I’m just much annoyed with myself that I didn’t properly read the text-”

“But we should go out, just the two of us. You’re right,” he realised how little he takes you out. “Why don’t you talk to me about this?” 

“You have a lot going on,” you shrugged. “I’m not going to add to it by being a bitch about shit like this.” 

“You’re never a bitch,” his heart ached a little, how could you ever think that he’d ever be annoyed by you? He wrapped his arms around you , pressing soft kisses to your neck and whispering apologies. “I love you so much, I want to be with you as much as possible. Lando was just lonely and called me, so I said yes. I’ll say no in future, yeah?”

You nodded, feeling a lot more loved than before. 

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Lando norris: he forgot. 

It had been weeks in the planning, you both were ecstatic to get to enjoy your favourite restaurant in Brazil. You sat there for 2 hours. In the end you ordered stuff to take out and left a hefty tip for the inconvenience of your boyfriend. You texted and called him at least 20 times. No fucking answer. 

When you got back to the hotel, he wasn’t there either and you started getting worried. Could he be hurt? Surely he wouldn’t forget the important date, he remembered about it last week. 

You called Oscar, scared that Lando was lying in a ditch somewhere or something. 

“Hey Y/n,” his voice came from the other side of the phone. Distantly you could hear the sound of house music playing loudly. 

“Is Lando with you?” You asked. 

“Well, he was a while ago, but now he’s going back to the hotel,” he explained. “Why?”

“Just wanted to check on you guys,” you sighed, unable to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “You all good?” 

“Yeah, I’m with Alex and Zhou, we’re just outside the club now, we’re safe, promise,” he smiled into the phone. 

“Alright, well, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? Be careful,” you reminded him. 

“We will,” he nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

As you hung up the phone, the door swung open and Lando appeared. Dishevelled but there. 

“Baby I am so sorry I forgot about-“

“It’s fine,” you sighed, used to the excuses by now. “It’s whatever, Lando.”

“Baby, come on, let me make it up to you,” he tried again, but you stayed unchanged on the topic. 

“Something will always be more important to you,” you mumbled. “And every single time it kills me. And I just let it. Because sadly, I love you so much that I let you treat me like this.”

“Baby that’s not-“

“We planned this months ago, Lando. And I put so much fucking effort in to looking nice for you, and you don’t show. I was so excited to have one fucking night where I wasn’t dating Lando Norris, Championship Fighter, McLaren Number One, McLarens saviour. One fucking might where I could just be a girl who got to dress up night for her boyfriend, who showed up to the date. One night when we could be normal people, that’s what I wanted, Lando.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I have a lot on my mind…”

“Yeah, you do. Maybe we should break up.”

“W-what? You don’t mean that, right baby? Come on, I’m- we’re- you’re the best thing that’s ever fucking happened to me. I don’t wanna lose you-“

“Yeah and you don’t want to have me either! Lando, I do fucking everything for you, I’m so fucking understanding every single time you disappoint or fucking annoy me. I understand that you're going through shit, and I’m here to help you. But I cannot deal with this disrespect anymore, alright? I am worth something! Right? Like, I have to be worth more than what you’re giving me, right?” You said, breaking down. Your plan had been to just keep calm and talk tomorrow, but that clearly flew out the window. 

“I love you-“

“Do you?! Really?!”

You were both silent. 

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Lewis Hamilton: he forgot

The silence was deafening in your shared home. You sat at the table, all dressed up with nowhere to go. 

“Baby, I know I-“

“Just fuck off,” you sighed. “Go back to work, or whatever it was that held you up.”

“I wanna make it up to you, I’m sorry baby,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around you. 

You took a deep breath. “I just wanted one night,” you sighed and he nodded, feeling guiltier by the second. “Away from work and the kids, just one fucking night Lewis.”

“How about a weekend? We drop the kids off at Natalie’s and we can go away for the weekend?” He offered and pressed a kiss to your cheek.. 

“We’re busy this weekend.”

“Cancel it.”

“Cancel my promotion dinner?” You scoffed. “Cancel Ellie’s football match? Cancel half the grid coming over? Cancel Nick’s karting race?” You quested, listing off the things you had to supervise for the weekend. 

He sighed. “I’m sorry baby, I forgot-“

“Yeah. You forgot. You keep fucking forgetting,” you groaned. “I just… I want some time. I’m pissed off right now and I just want to go to bed.”

“I’ll put the kids to bed,” he nodded. “I’m sorry again.”

“You’re always sorry Lewis. Just be there, for once,” you took a deep breath. “If not for me, then for our children. Don’t ruin the relationship because of your busy schedule.” 

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George Russell: you forgot...

You walked into your shared apartment, exhausted after work. 

“Hey darling,” he smiled, taking your bags out of your hands. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks love,” you smiled. Then you noticed the suit he was wearing. “You look handsome, what’s the occasion?”

His face fell. “Did you forget?” 

Shit. You did. The fucking anniversary dinner. “No! Just joking!” You laughed. “Give me like 20 minutes to get ready, yeah?”

He smiled. “Alright, just remember our reservations are in a little while.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

You completely forgot about the plans. No gift. No dress. Nothing. 

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You sat at dinner, somehow throwing together something, only to find out it wasn’t a fucking date, but a surprise birthday party. 

Your anniversary is months away. 

“Sorry baby,” he smiled, not one bit sorry. 

“I was terrified! I thought I’d fully forgotten!” You whined, rolling your eyes. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, a promise for more later. 

“I'm sorry darling,” he added, a small wink in one eye as he pulled you into the dance floor. 

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Alex Albon: genuinely injured

You sat in his apartment, waiting for him to finally show his face. He was 40 minutes late, and while this wasn’t a huge deal, you had made dinner which had gone cold, plus you felt your time should be at least worth a text. 

The door finally opened and Alex walked through, well, uncoordinatedly crutched into the room, a huge boot covering his foot. 

“Holy shit, Alex,” you cursed, shocked at the sight in front of you. He blushed slightly. 

“Yeah… accident prone, or whatever my mum called me. I have a few weeks off,” he chuckled. 

“What happened?” you asked, just staring down at the boot. 

“Funny story, Lando-”

“Of fucking course it was you,” you scoffed, looking at the guilty Lando standing beside him. 

“Lando accidentally ran over my foot,” he finished. 

“With what?” you asked, wondering if it was a bike or something, surely Lando was an experienced enough driver to have not driven over Alex’s foot. 

“A car,” Oscar explained. “Twice.” 

You saw red, turning your attention to Lando. “You fucking idiot!” you seethed. You chuckled. “How fucking stupid are you?”

He just giggled and shrugged. “Very?” he offered as an answer. 

“Thank you for bringing him home, now please leave before you cause any more bodily harm,” you sighed, showing Lando the door. You weren’t really mad, just shocked. 

“I’m sorry I was late,” he sighed, sitting on the couch. 

You chuckled. “You don’t have to apologise for that,” joining beside him. “I’m sorry you broke your foot.”

“Lando broke my foot,” he corrected and you just laughed and pressed your lips against his. 

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Daniel Riccardo: he forgot 

You walked into your shared apartment with your head held low. He’d forgotten your anniversary. 

“Baby? Where have you been? Are you alri- you look beautiful,” he stood up, walking over to you. You looked up and he saw the tears streaming. That sinking feeling he’d had all day, the one that told him he forgot something, it finally clicked. He’d forgotten the date. 

“Do you know how humiliating it is when someone stands you up? Do you know how humiliating it is when that gets fucking paparazzied?”

He gasped, no way you’d been subjected to the paparazzi. “Baby I’m so-”

“Sorry? Sure, I  believe  you,” you scoffed. “Just leave me be.”

You walked off to your bedroom and he was left to think about how he could pick up the broken pieces. 

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Charles LeClerc: he’s just being a dick. 

At least he remembered the date, but the fact that he’s sitting on his phone the entire time is literally gaining you pity smiles from other girls in the restaurant. When you went to the bathroom, two girls literally called him a ‘fucking asshole’ for what he’s doing to you, and gave you their numbers so you could be friends and bitch about him. 

“Charles,” you sighed, looking down at your bowl of pasta. You weren’t exactly hungry anymore, and now you just wanted to go home instead of being publicly humiliated like this. 

He looked up from his phone for a split second. “Yeah?” straight back down. 

“Are you going to eat any time soon?” you sighed, looking at his full plate. 

He looked at his food, then picked up a fry and ate it. “Eating, see?”

You rolled your eyes. “I want to go home.” 

He finally put down his phone. “But we are having a nice date, no?” 

“A ‘nice date’ usually includes talking of some sort, and maybe just a little bit of attention from my boyfriend,” you gritted out. “This is what I was talking about, if you don’t have time for me, I’d understand Charles. Just don’t waste my time like this.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry-”

“Sorry isn’t cutting it anymore Charles, I’m not just going to wait here forever like some little fangirl who’s just ‘so blessed’ to be dating the Charles LeClerc. I love you, not you being a racing driver, not you being a model, not anything else. I love you, Charles. And I’m starting to feel like you don’t love me back.” 

“Mon ange, please listen-”

“I’m done listening, I’ll see you at home,” you said and got up, actually receiving a clap from the two girls you’d met in the bathroom. 

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Max Verstappen: circumstances end it. 

You called again. And again. And again. 

No answer. As always. 

Long distance was hard, it was always going to be. Max didn’t need to make it any harder by not showing up for your phone-dates. He hadn’t called in months. He hadn’t seen you in over a year. He hadn’t done anything. He was never the first to call or text. He was never the one making the effort. He made you feel like a burden. He made you feel like shit. 

Max: Busy sorry. Can’t make it tonight. 

You: Don’t bother calling again. We’re done. 

Max: What are you talking about???

You: There’s always something more important than us. There’s always something you’d rather do. I’m so done with this shit Max. I want a boyfriend, not a fucking pen pal. I want a boyfriend who texts and calls me back. I want a boyfriend who asks about my day. I want someone who actually cares about me. 

Max: I care about you! Alright, just let me call you later, I’m at HQ right now

You: Max. I. Am. Done. Don’t fucking call me, don’t text me, don’t visit me. Let me live my life in peace. 

Max: Is that really what you want?

A tear fell down your cheek as you read the message. You wanted Max, but you knew you could never truly have him, he’d always be married to his craft, always be more in love with winning than he’d ever been with you. 

You: Yes. 

You have now blocked this user. 

You had to think about yourself.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi@linnygirl09@lanadelray1989@teamnovalak@gleeblegnarp

[bedsyandco]

Need Jack and Nico trying to convince her

“c’mon vi, don’t you wanna see your favourite devil in action?” nico asks with a grin, knowing jack and luke were gonna protest that statement

“okay, captain dimples, relax. we all know im her favourite devs player. right vi?” jack cuts in shoving nico lightly from their position on the couch as he leans closer to the computer screen

“sure jacky, you’re my favourite,” violet admits, looking at luke and sending him an exaggerated wink, causing the taller boy to smile slightly. god he missed her. even though he saw her at the detroit game only a few days ago.

he couldn’t describe to anyone what it was like, going from being with her 24/7 to seeing her maybe once a month, if he’s lucky. jack calls them out all the time for being “codependent” or wherever but if jack ever met a girl he wanted to spend more than one night with, he’d understand luke’s frustration.

even then, he’s not really sure jack would understand the extent of how much luke was missing her. they’ve known each other practically their entire lives and haven’t gone without seeing each other for more than three weeks max since grade 9. long distance fucking sucked, and he definitely wasn’t built for it. but he didn’t even feel like he could tell her that, because violet was a pro at just about anything she set her mind to, long distance included.

their phone calls were always filled with everything she’s been up to from classes, to dance, to coaching dance, to the big win the guys pulled off against ohio and the party afterwards. if she didn’t tell him that she missed him about 20 times during the call, he wouldn’t be able to tell that she does, probably because she’s so busy and she doesn’t even realize how much time passes before they see each other again. but luke’s busy too, and it still feels like forever for him.

sometimes it felt like she had this whole other life in michigan that he just wasn’t apart of anymore and you would think since this is their second year of long distance they would be at least a little used to it by now, but luke still gets chest pains just thinking about it.

“look guys I gotta go. I honestly don’t think I can swing it but I’ll think about it okay. just don’t get your hopes up,” violet says and all three guys nod

“even if you can’t swing the vancouver game, come to one of the home games soon then. s’a lot closer than van. i’ll fly you in myself, miss you,” jack mumbles, and violet smiles at him. her and jack had grown closer this past summer (if that was even possible) and she had missed him almost as much as her boyfriend these last few weeks.

“miss you too jacky,” violet replies and luke leans forward, reaching to grab the laptop and perching it on his lap so only he’s in the camera, despite the other two guys still sitting next to him

“okay baby. i’ll talk to you soon yeah? probably wednesday when we’re with quinn. i’m sure he’d love to say hi. i love you, get some rest,” luke says, heart squeezing when violet leans forward and kisses the camera

“miss you so much lu. and I love you so so much. i’ll text you tonight okay?” she greets, ending the call when luke nods in response.

“man I don’t know if I liked it more when you guys were oblivious to how in love you were or now that you’re so obvious about it,” jack states, fake gagging and their captain lets out a chuckle

“what was the story of you guys in high school and college anyway? i’ve heard a lot of things. . .” nico says and luke frowns at him

“heard a lot of things from who?” he asks, wondering whose been going around taking about his relationship.

“sheamo mostly. some of the guys have been asking him what you were like in college,” nico says and luke shrugs

“not much to tell really. we’re childhood friends, caught feelings, got together,” luke says and jack scoffs

“sure. you’re missing the 5 or 6 years where you guys were silently pining for one another just because you wouldn’t admit you had feelings,” jack says and luke sighs, rolling his eyes at his brother and getting up from the couch as jack begins to tell nico all the details he knows, not in the mood to stroll down memory lane on how long it took him and vi to pull their heads out of their asses.

“swear hockey players gossip more than the old ladies at grandmas weekly book club,” luke mutters, making his way to his room, planning to look at the calendar and arrange a time to fly his girl out.

[drowning2fly]

Too Much Pasta (aaron hotchner x reader)

established relationship. You and aaron enjoying dinner and the aftermath of eating too much pasta. or aaron comforting you when you have a stomach ache. fluff.

(the edit was made by me)

You smiled as you walked into the kitchen, smelling spaghetti being made. You saw Aaron walking all around the kitchen, he almost seemed rushed. You knew he was trying to make everything perfect for the both of you.

“It smells so good in here.” You grabbed some plates and set them on the table, trying to help out at least a little bit.

“Thank you Sweetheart. It’s almost ready.” He smiled, leaning over to press a quick kiss to your head.

“This is nice. I’m so glad we are finally having a full dinner together.” You said. Aaron has been busy lately, a little extra busy. You knew he deserved a very nice night, even though he was the one who wanted to do the cooking. He put the finished spaghetti in a bowl and set it on the table. As you two sat at the table, he grabbed your hand to kiss your knuckles.

“You’re being extra cute tonight.” You smirked, teasing him a little.

“Well of course I am. We waited all week for this.”

The both of you ate and talked about your daydream vacation. Both wanting to get away when there’s time but for now, this is perfect.

You helped Aaron clean up after eating. “That was delicious. Wow handsome and he can cook.” You playfully bumped your hip onto his. “Thank you again.”

“Hey no need to thank me. You know I would do something like this for you every night if I could.” He looked at you so sweetly.

“I know you would. I love you.”

He pulled you into a hug. “I love you too. So much.”

After cleaning up, you both headed to the couch to watch a movie but that’s when it hit you. You were already feeling full from the pasta but now your stomach hurt. You slightly groaned and held your stomach, plopping down on the couch.

“Hey what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Aaron was immediately right by your side, lightly rubbing your back.

“Just a stomach ache.” You laid your head on his shoulder, tears threatening to fall. You know you have to be careful about certain things you eat but spaghetti is your favourite.

“Come here.” Aaron pulled you closer to his side and put on your favourite movie. The one that makes you feel the most comforted.

“It’ll pass, it always does. But until then, I’m here.” Aaron said softly into your ear. You smiled a little. Even just his voice alone soothes you.

“I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Well probably be laying on the floor right now?”

You laughed a little and nodded. That’s exactly what happened last time you had a stomach ache, you laid on the floor because he was at work. You leaned more into his hold and closed your eyes. You knew the stomach would go away soon, but you already felt a little better just being in his arms.

sorry if this was bad. i feel like the ending was but i wanted to write some self indulgent fluff on here so i hope someone enjoyed this :) <3

[girlactionfigure]

A NEW FRIEND

A little Israel story

LEE KERN

OCT 29

We are our own civilisation. We don’t need to entertain or be entertained by anyone else. Because there are a million stories taking place inside the Jewish universe. Today I had a sweet encounter. I met a friend in Neve Tzedek. Then when I left them I was walking through the streets and passed a cute old synagogue. A chassid came out. Black hat. Black frock. The works. He asked me something but I replied in Hebrew that I spoke Hebrew like a child. He then asked in Hebrew if I spoke any Yiddish. I said the one Yiddish phrase I know about having tsuris. Then we just walked not speaking the same language but enjoying each others company. Using broken Hebrew we managed to communicate. I pointed to an old building and he explained it used to be a synagogue and he showed me where the men would sit and where the women would sit. We saw a dog. I told him I had to work later. He said something which I managed to interpret as Adam being banished from the garden and man having to earn bread by the sweat of his brow. I told him that the snake in the garden of Eden was a nudnik and that all snakes are nudniks. He laughed. I asked him what his favourite festival is. He said his favourite chag is Purim. I told him mine was Yom Kippur. Then he typed into Google translate on my phone the words: “If you believe you came out clean, then don’t mess up.” It turned out he was a satmar chassid. I teased him for being anti-zionist and he typed “76 years and there hasn’t been a single quiet day here yet.” I told him that even Eden had its crazy days. He lives in Jerusalem. He was here for a reason I didn’t quite understand. I asked what he was doing for the rest of the day. He said he was doing nothing. So we just strolled a bit. We walked down Park HaMesila whilst hipsters and hot women strolled past. But we weren’t noticing that. By now we were talking about watermelons and schnitzel. Then we swapped phone numbers and said we should stay in touch. He had this tiny little phone from a bygone era. I felt that I should go and do some work but I also felt that he was just wandering around and that he kind of wanted company. So we walked a bit more. He said that he needed to keep moving as he was in pain. I asked what pain? He tried to explain but couldn’t so he typed into Google translate and showed me the phone. “Hemorroid pain” it said. It was hilarious and I started laughing. He was so innocent and sweet, casually telling me he had hemorrhoids as if it was no big thing to tell someone. And the reality is it wasn’t. Finally I walked him back to a synagogue he wanted to go to. I told him I was a writer. He told me he was a printer. He printed posters that the chassidim put up in their neighbourhood. Announcing weddings and deaths and other such things. I said I hope he will get more work for weddings. We shook hands and parted company. 

[artificialandroid]

I don’t usually make posts, but this little detail is so important to me you have no idea

[fairyofshampgyu]

he’s literally so beautiful and handsome

[i-may-be-an-emu]

sfthtober day 20!!

mild cw for kitchen knives (drawing, being used to carve pumpkins)

I love them

[heeha-must-die]

oh to be a narratively doomed jo(h)n

[exopelagic]

WHY DID NOBODY TELL ME BURROWS END WASNT FREE

[typinggently]

I can’t lie, my head is spinning. Maybe I SHOULD put my ficlets and stuff on AO3 because frankly, there is some good stuff I should reread more often.

[cuteniaarts]

@katkastrofa: *writes a single throwaway line in one chapter of Lost and Found that is never referenced again*

Me, completely randomly and with no prompting: Alright, bet–