#STOP STOP i already feel awful about everything!! i’m already sad!!!

[halfwayhearted]

Lamine being soft with his gf when she’s sad :(

In Agreement — Lamine Yamal.

Pairing: Lamine Yamal x Fem!Reader

Summary: He just happens to make everything better.

Word Count: 395+

Disclaimer/s — Mentions of bad day, just comfort and fluff.

A/N: Kind of short, sorry… thank you for requesting :3

Lamine is already worried when his request to come over is met with a simple thumbs up and a heart emoji. If it were any other day, you’d say yes along with suggesting many different ideas for things you could do together. You just… didn’t.

When he reaches your front door, he shoots you a quick text to let you know he’s here. That’s when he hears the sound of your slippers sliding against the planked floors. You swing the door open, force a smile, and step aside to allow him in. “Hey.”

His grin falters, “Hey. Were you doing anything?”

“Not really,” you mumble with a shrug. “I’m not sure what we can do. I’m sorry. We can just settle for—” you stop talking when his arms reach for you, pulling you into him. You could actually cry.

“You don’t have to apologize for not having anything planned. I should be the one doing that; I came last minute. I just wanted to see you.”

“I know, I’m glad you did. I just—I don’t know.”

The boy hums softly, the sound making a shiver run down your spine. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

“Nothing…” you trail off, biting your bottom lip when you realize it’s no use lying to him. You knew he knew that you were upset. So, you sigh and slump your shoulders, your grip on him tightening just a little. “Today was just stressful. I feel like everybody expects too much of me, it’s catching up to me, I guess. I’m overwhelmed.”

His lips pull into a frown. “Anything I can do?”

“No, not really. You being here is enough for me.”

“Good, I’m glad. How about this: you go and lay down, and I’ll, I’m sorry, raid your pantry for snacks and whatnot. I just want you to rest.”

He was so, so sweet and soft-spoken, it quite literally made you forget about the awful day you’ve had. “I’d like that. Raid away.”

Lamine squeezes you once before letting go, but you don’t let him walk away just yet. You reach for his hand, stopping him in his tracks. Your boyfriend looks down at you in confusion; it’s not until you speak that he smiles.

“I’m lucky to have you,” you state, “Y’know that?”

He’s nodding his head and grinning sheepishly. “You know that I’m really lucky to have you, too.”

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @planetpedri + @spidybaby + @sakashq ! ౨ৎ

[goldensunset]

‘my lord n is a kind and excellent person who understands the hearts of pokémon. but conversely, perhaps his ability to understand the hearts and feelings of people is not developed enough. but… even that was part of the perfection of ghetsis�� plan.’ SHUT UUUUP I SWEAR!!!!

[verstappen-cult]

I would LOVE a part two of the birthday drabble if ur open to that? maybe how max tries to ask for reader’s forgiveness? maybe asking Charles for help but he’s just like “no u gotta figure it out on ur own this time buddy” bc he’s mad at him too?

PART ONE. Max totally blanks on your birthday plans and it’s not pretty.

Max is pacing around the kitchen when you wake up the next morning. When his gaze snaps up to meet yours, you can see the bags under his eyes. You think about reaching for him when you remember what happened, so, you simply walk past him to make some coffee.

“Good morning, schat.” He whispers, looking down. You’re still very much hurt but seeing him like this breaks your heart. 

Maybe you’re being too mean, giving him the cold shoulder and not even meeting his eyes, but you also think about what your best friend said last night when you called her crying. He needs to sort out his priorities and give you what you deserve. And you also need to stand up for yourself, you’ve let Max get away with similar things in the past and it’s time for that to stop. 

“Good morning,” Charles says as he enters the kitchen. He looks at Max but doesn’t say anything when he sees his eyes filled with tears. You’re hurt but he’s angry. “Want me to drive to your appointment?” 

“Mmh.” You nod, taking your cup of coffee and going back to your room. 

Charles opens the fridge and tries to look busy waiting for Max to get the fuck out of the kitchen. But that doesn’t happen and he is forced to close the door and face his boyfriend. 

“Have you talked to her?” Max asks him, rubbing his hand over his face. 

“Yea’,” Charles simply answers, trying to choose between an apple or banana for breakfast. You or Max are the ones always cooking because Charles just can’t do it, but you’re not in the mood to make breakfast and he’s definitely not gonna ask Max. “I’m not the one who fucked everything up.” 

“I’m sorry, okay? I just—I didn’t forget, but there were—”

“I don’t fucking care, Max. It was her birthday! It was supposed to be special but instead of enjoying the one day—the only day she really asks for our attention, she cried all the way home.”  

Max feels like crying again. He feels awful but doesn’t know what to do to make things better. 

The Dutchman opens his mouth but before he can say anything, Charles holds his palm up, shutting him up. 

“I won’t tell you what to do, you need to figure that out by yourself.” 

Charles storms out of the kitchen, leaving a sad Max behind. 

You don’t say goodbye when you leave but Charles, at least, tells him that they should be home by eight, to not wait for them because they will be having lunch together. He doesn’t ask Max if he wants to join. 

Max doesn’t know what to do. 

You’ve never been this angry before. Charles is a different story, they’ve been racing their whole lives together, so, he has seen parts of Charles you don’t even know. 

Max thinks about calling his mom to ask her for advice, God, even calling his sister, but rejects the idea because he knows what they will say. 

It’s all his fault. Stupid Max, stupid SimRacing—

Max gets up from the couch, he doesn’t know how much has passed since you left, but the sun is already sitting down. 

When Max enters his streaming room he wants to cry again. And he does. 

He cries as he disconnects everything. He cries when he smashes the camera onto the floor. He cries while throwing a chair across the room, crashing against the wall. He cries looking at the mess he made, the mess he is.

Max falls to the floor and cries, and cries, and cries, until he feels two strong arms around him and soft words spoken into his ear. 

“Max, breathe with me, please,” Charles begs, caressing his back and lifting his chin up with his free hand. Max’s gaze focuses on his face as he imitates his boyfriend, inhaling and exhaling slowly. It takes some time, but Max eventually stops shaking. “Oh, Max. What did you do?” Charles sounds so broken and disappointed, Max doesn’t want him to feel like that. He’s done so much already. 

Max starts crying again. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Charles wipes his tears and kisses his eyelids. 

Max doesn’t deserve this. 

“Hey, love.” Max turns his head around at the sound of your voice. You crouch down next to him, a soft smile dancing on your lips. “Would you drink this, please? For me?” He doesn’t need to be asked twice. You guide the glass to his lips and he drinks the water — with a little bit of sugar you always add when you’re not feeling okay. 

Max wants to talk, he wants to apologize again, he wants to scream at you and Charles for being so attentive with him when he doesn’t deserve it. But he feels so tired, all he can do is lean into your touch when you cradle his face with both your hands, palms comfortable against the stubble on his cheeks. 

“We’re gonna buy new things and me and Charles will help you set everything up, okay?”

Max wants to scream. Instead, he barely has the voice to say, “I don’t want any of this. I fucked up because of this stupid shit.”

“Max,” Charles calls his name, moving around so he’s sitting next to you. “You love it.”

“I love you more.” He simply says, looking between you and Charles. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry…” He lets silent tears fall down his cheeks. 

“I know you’re sorry.” You lean to leave a kiss on his forehead, then, you look directly into his eyes. “I’m still hurt, Max. I won’t lie. We need to have a long conversation, the three of us, but I don’t want you to quit something that you love and enjoy so much. I just,” You notice you’re crying when Max wipes the tears with his thumb. “I want to be a priority in your life.”

“And you are!” He wants to smash his head onto the floor. “God you,” He takes your hand, lips quivering. “and you,” He takes Charles’s hand then. He guides them to his chest, just where his heart is. “are the most important people in my life. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

There’s still so much to say but, for right now, you just want to be as close as possible. You’ll have plenty of time to figure out how to go from here.

[nadvs]

blurb of hbd reader and rafe with their baby girl please 🥺

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

continuation of this fic & inspired by this ask

Your eyelids flitter open, offering you a view of the white ceiling of the private hospital room you’ve been in all night. The way the light spills in through the slitted blinds tells you the sun must have just risen.

“…never feel sad or lonely,” you hear Rafe say, low and hushed.

You turn your head slightly to see your husband standing by the window, holding your bundled newborn against his chest, her eyes shut.

“And you’ll never have to wonder if we love you. You’ll know,” he mumbles.

Your heart feels both happy and sad as you overhear the words he’s whispering to your daughter, promising that she’ll never feel an absense of love like he did most of his life.

Rafe glances over to see you awake in the inclined bed, the blankets he put on you still draped over you.

“Did I wake you up?” he says, brows furrowing in concern.

“No,” you say. “I think it’s some kind of mom instinct. I keep waking up to check on her.”

He beams at you, already sure you’re going to be an amazing mother. He kisses the top of his sleeping baby’s head as he slowly walks to you, settling on the foot of the bed.

“How’d you make this?” he says in pure awe, gently lifting your daughter a bit higher on his chest.

“You helped,” you tease. “I don’t know. It’s crazy. I can’t believe she’s finally here.”

“You did such a good job,” Rafe says softly.

He thought he couldn’t possibly love you more, but the way you went through the pains of pregnancy and birth just so you two could start a family has given him an even stronger sense of admiration for you.

“Thank you,” you say tiredly.

“I’m going to give you both the best life,” he promises.

“I know,” you say with a smile. “You already are.”

The past 24 hours have been an exhausting whirlwind and you feel your eyelids getting heavy again.

“Sleep,” Rafe tells you. “I’ll wake you up when it’s time to feed her.”

“Okay,” you whisper, already dozing off.

Rafe looks down at his daughter, then his wife, and is sure he’s living somebody else’s life because he can’t possibly be lucky enough to really be sitting here.

Rafe’s mind drifts to what his mom would be doing right now. Sometimes, during big moments like these, he likes to imagine that she’s still alive, to daydream about what she’d be doing or saying in a world where her life wasn’t taken from her too soon.

In this case, he knows she’d be bringing food to the hospital, taking care of her daughter-in-law, holding her grandchild with tears in her eyes.

Rafe rubs his daughter’s small back, feeling her move with little breaths, thinking about how he’ll tell her all about the woman her grandmother was.

The pure, infinite love he feels for his baby is overwhelming, and when he realizes this is exactly what his mother felt for him, his throat tightens.

It’s like this little girl was sent to him from his mother as a testament of a parent’s love, a reminder that she always adored him, that she would never blame him for what happened.

Rafe got a second chance at life that night in the car. His mother deserved one, too, but she didn’t get it, so he tries to appreciate life enough for the both of them. It’s what she would want.

His baby stirs gently in his arms and he kisses the top of her head again as he looks at you. He’s afraid he’ll never be able to give to you what you’ve given to him. The love and grace and patience you’ve beautified his life with.

But he’ll never stop trying. He swears it. When it is his time to leave this earth, he’ll go knowing he gave you and your child everything. All of him.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Code of Conduct 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss has a difficult time keeping his personal life from bleeding into his work. 

Characters: Steve Rogers, this reader is known as Rosie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

“Are you sure you want to keep working?” You ask Mr. Rogers as you bring in the printed report he requested. 

“Yeah, can’t really go home...” he mutters as he takes the report with a brittle smile. 

“I guess, but you could... take some time for yourself. I can call your one o’clock,” you offer. 

“Rosie, you’re wonderful. But I need the distraction.” 

“Okay, I—can I get you anything? A tea? When I feel down, I have this lavender chamomile in my desk that helps me feel better.” 

He looks at you, his blue eyes sparkling. You really can’t handle him crying. His eyes are already pink and puffy from the tears he hid in his closed office. 

“You’re so sweet,” he sniffs. 

“Look that over and I’ll steep the tea,” you insist. 

You leave him before your ingrained sympathy can have you joining his pity party. You feel awful for him but lost too. You’re not sure how to handle all this. Relationships have always been a bit of a mystery to you. You have lot of friends but never found anyone to be more than. 

You take your time in the break room. You smell like vinaigrette. It’s another reminder of the chaotic morning. The kettle pops and you pour the water over the tea bag. You bob it up and down with the string and make your way back to Mr. Roger’s office. 

He thanks you as you set it down and warn him it’s hot. He runs his thumb up and down the edge of a page then looks up at you.  

“Anything else, sir?” 

“You... you said you feel down sometimes?” He asks. 

“Oh, well, yeah, but everyone does.” 

“But... about what? Why would you feel down?” He lowers the stapled papers onto the desk. 

“Just... things, sir. Nothing big. It’s just the way people are.” 

“You-- you have everything, Rosie. You’re so bright and bubbly. What could make you sad?” He pivots his chair towards you. “Who do I gotta give a talking to around here?” 

“No one, sir. Really. I guess I just need a pick-me-up from time to time.” 

He nods and looks down. You hover on the other side of his desk. You should get back to work but you don’t know if you should leave him. 

“I get lonely too.” He lifts his chin up. “Even when Peggy’s right next to me. I get it.” 

“Sir?” 

“You said you’re not married, right? I—I'm sorry if I assumed--” he cringes. “Wow, I’m so embarrassing.” 

“It’s... it’s fine. I have friends and we have lots of fun. My friend Missie, she’s really cool. She lies to tie-dye. We do that sometimes. And you,” you perk up, “you have Mr. Barnes, right? He told me that you twohave known each other forever.” 

“He told you that?” Rogers tilts his head. 

“Well, sure, he’s a bit chatty when he stops by.” 

“He is?” A brow arches curiously and ripples his forehead. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re so easy to talk to. Even with someone like him.” 

“Erm, I guess. I just try to see the positive. You know. Um, I don’t mean to presume because I can’t begin to know but I know Peggy loves you. And you have a good job and you can fix this, Mr. Rogers. You could try counselling or I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t know much,” you shrug. 

“We did counselling,” he picks up the mug and blows the steam away, inhaling the scent. “She stormed out of that too. We’ve tried a lot of things. A second honeymoon, a vow renewal, everything.” He looks down and his shoulders slump. He looks tiny even though he’s a big man. 

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to overstep.” 

“You didn’t,” he inhales and pushes his shoulders straight. “You’re right, I can do something. I can put myself first. I think... I think I need to look into leaving.” 

You blink. You’re speechless. It feels like too much. Not his suggestion, just that he’s saying it to you. You’re fine getting him coffee and sorting his schedule but you haven’t been trained for this. 

“You should do what’s best for you, sir.” 

He nods and tastes the tea. “It’s good, Rose,” He sets the cup down. “Thanks. You’re... you’re too good to me.” 

“It’s just tea. I’ll let you enjoy it in peace and I gotta get back to it.” You smile. “Let me know if you need anything else.” 

“Will do,” he utters glumly. 

You slowly turn away and stride out. You feel a tugging in your stomach. Like guilt. You feel bad leaving him like that. Yet, you don’t know what else you can do for him. Missie would know. She always knows how to make things better. Maybe you could ask her but it’s a long story. 

Hm. 

You take out your phone and open up the conversation. You giggle at the kitten pictures she sent you last night. It takes several attempts to get it right; ‘hey, Miss, what would you do for someone going through a break-up? Tryna do something nice. Thx <3’ 

You’re sure she’ll come up with something, even without all the details. You tuck your phone away and turn back to your screen. As you do, an email pings into Mr. Rogers’ inbox.  

You click on it and open the attachment. The legal letterhead has your blood cold. Before you can react, you hear Mr. Rogers exclaim.

Oh no, he’s already seen it. Divorce papers. 

[twistersobsessed]

hi love! i love your writing so so much! especially your scott works. i’ve literally been obsessed with him since the movie came out

i was wondering if you could maybe write something like scott and reader are in an relationship and she’s super sensitive while he’s super mean.

one day he’s just in a bad mood (idk maybe he couldn’t get good enough data on a storm) and he’s kinda taking it out on her and it ends up really hurting her feelings so he has to make it up her

<333

Bad Moods & Sensitivity | Scott x Reader

A/N: Ahh thank you bestie! I’m so obsessed with Scott too 😭

Scott was in an absolutely foul mood. You had no idea why. When you came up to him at breakfast and wrapped your arms around him, he’d shrugged you off. It hurt your feelings but you decided to respect him and give him some space. Scott’s bad mood was affecting your mood though, it killed you that you couldn’t love on your boyfriend.

Storm Par was stopped at a gas station, and of course, Tyler Owens and his crew were stopped at the same one. Scott and Javi were talking by the truck, and since Scott wasn’t paying you any attention, you made your way towards the gas station’s convenience store.

“(Name)!” You turned to see who was calling you to find Tyler, standing by his truck with Boone, waving you over. You smiled and made your way to them. “Hey guys.” You’d always been friendly to Tyler and his people but you didn’t often get called over to talk to them. “What’s up?”

“You look sad,” Tyler frowned. “Everything okay with you and Clipboard?”

Clipboard. Tyler’s name for Scott. Your face fell.

“Aw, I take that as a no?” Boone chimed in.

You shook your head. “It’s nothing really, he’s just in a really bad mood today. Shrugged me off this morning and hasn’t talked to me since.”

Boone gave Scott a dirty look while Tyler hummed. “You’re too pretty to deal with that attitude,” Tyler said.

You shrugged. “He’s not usually like this.”

“Really?” Boone raised an eyebrow.

You understood why they didn’t like Scott, but you also weren’t going to stand there and listen to them talk badly about your boyfriend. “I’m uh, gonna go get a snack. See you guys out there!” You politely excused yourself. They bid you goodbye and you entered the store, oblivious to the angry set of eyes on you.

Inside, you bought yourself an energy drink, and you bought Scott a pack of his favorite gum, hoping to cheer him up a little bit. You paid and left, striding towards Scott and Javi. Javi smiled brightly at you, but Scott didn’t even look at you.

“Babe, I got you your gum,” you said softly, holding out the pack. Scott turned to you and you were taken aback by the anger in his eyes. “Go give it to the hillbillies,” he spat. Your face crumpled. “What?”

“Since you like flirting with the competition so much.” Scott’s voice dripped with venom.

“Scott…”

“Shut up, (Name), I’m having a shitty ass day already and then you go and get all friendly with Owens and his little sidekick, I don’t want to hear it.”

Tears begin to pour down your cheeks. You hadn’t even felt them well up. Scott’s face softened. Javi pulled you into a hug, glaring at Scott. “That was so unnecessary,” he told him as he held you. “I think you should walk away for a bit.”

Scott bit his tongue and did as Javi said. Javi soothed you until you calmed down. You threw the gum in the trash.

For the rest of the day, you clung to Javi’s side and avoided Scott. That night, you made sure Javi booked you your own motel room; you didn’t feel like sharing with Scott. You sat alone on the bed, knees tucked up against your chest. It was quiet and lonely without Scott but you’d be damned if you sought him out.

A knock shook you out of your stupor. You sniffed, and slid off the bed, creeping over to the door and looking through the peephole. “Go away, Scott,” you said irritably when you saw who it was. “Baby,” his voice was pleading. “Please. I’m so fucking sorry. Let me in.”

You sighed, but opened the door a crack to make eye contact with him.

Scott’s heart hurt when he saw how tired and sad you looked. He wanted nothing more than to throw open the door and take you into his arms, but he respected your space.

“What do you want?” Your voice was flat.

“Can I come in?”

You considered it for a moment before nodding slightly and opening the door all the way to allow Scott inside. You stepped away from Scott as he stepped towards you. He shut the door behind him, then to your surprise, dropped to his knees.

“My behavior today, and what I said… unacceptable. I am so, so sorry. It doesn’t matter that I was in a mood or that I was jealous, it’s not an excuse. It never should have happened. I’m sorry I brushed you off at breakfast, I’m sorry I ignored you all day, and I’m really fucking sorry for what I said at the gas station. You know I don’t like how Tyler looks at you.”

You swallowed, considering his apology. “I don’t know, Scott,” you sighed.

He suddenly looked fearful. “Do you want to break up?”

The question hung heavy in the air. If you had more respect for yourself, maybe you’d have left him for how he treated you today. But a deeper, more sensitive part of you, couldn’t bear to throw away an entire year together for one really bad day.

“No,” you finally responded, and Scott’s shoulders sagged in relief. “But… I don’t know. You really fucking hurt me, that was really fucking unfair.”

Scott reached out towards you and you reluctantly took his hands. He pulled you into him. Even kneeling, he was so tall that his head was level with your chest. He looked up at you with reverence in his bright blue eyes, his hands caressing your waist.

“I love you so much, (Name). I will never let a bad mood be an excuse to treat you like that ever again.”

He paused. “And I’ll eat you out as soon as you can stand to look at my face again.”

Scott gave phenomenal head.

You blushed. It made you giggle a little and Scott smiled hopefully. You looked at him for a minute before smiling back. “Okay.”

Scott’s face lit up. He stood from his knees and picked you up instead, your legs wrapping around his hips. Scott pressed his lips to yours gently but eagerly. “I promise I’ll make it up to you,” he murmured against your mouth.

“You better.”

[ppongie]

K.MINGYU — Leavin’

“If that’s how you feel then it won’t happen again. Just get over it okay?” The last part wasn’t so necessary to say but.. at least it was all over.

He was ready to leave you alone in the kitchen, so when he took a few steps, you reached your hand out to hold his wrist. “Don’t.”

He was confused, shocked to say the least, by the hand on his wrist. “What?” He sighed out. Your lips parted wanting to say something but it seemed like your tongue was tied in knots.

He raised an eyebrow at you after waiting for less than five seconds “You got more to say?” He knew. Because your dilated pupils were shaking. “We never argue like this..” you dropped your hand from his wrist.

For some reason he missed your touch there, still feeling your hands wrapped around his wrist, like the feeling when someone’s done pinching your skin. It burned.

“We always make sure we’re okay in the end-“ “And we are-“ he cut you off to continue but you shake your head “No, we’re not.”

It was already hard for him to deal with his emotions but this conversation with you was harder to get out of. “I was going to leave you, gyu…” you remind him.

The sight of you grabbing your bags and throwing your clothes in. “I don’t know how you got this stubborn.” Did it take two years to put out the spark you two once had? Never knew there was a time limit to your love.

“I’m not stubborn,” now he’s being defensive. “It’s just..” he paused and by the look in your eyes, you wanted to know what he was going to say next.

Instead, he looks down at you. As if his time with you is running out. Everything came back to his senses once he realized that his choice of words, and actions, were all awful.

He never thought about your feelings in the process of it. He knew by then he’d lost you. His eyes went glossy so he looked the other away. “Never mind.” He stopped himself from saying anything further. Knowing if he kept going, he’ll keep fucking things up.

You only stayed quiet, you should’ve seen it coming. Him bottling up his feelings not wanting to be vulnerable with his emotions. Showing raw emotions wasn’t his thing. You should’ve left.

“If that’s how things are going to be between us, not solving anything and just ignoring each others feelings- I..”

Mingyu knew this was coming, but today?

He shook his head and now it was his turn to grab your wrist. “No don’t do this.” He held your hands and you tried pulling away from him. “I can’t Mingyu.”

No more gyu or other pet names will fall from those loving lips of yours that he adores so much. “Let me go.” You say in pure sadness.

Suddenly he felt like he was on quicksand. The world swallowing him whole and he can never reach to you. Ever.

“My bags are already packed. I’m going to Lia’s place.” He then followed you behind once you were making your way towards the bedroom.

“I’m sure you want the bed to yourself- it’s been a rough night.” You kept talking as your feet walked through the hallway where you two would often make out, make love- where you actually felt loved by him.

He didn’t reply to your words, the sounds of his footsteps behind you were the only response.

“I’ll get my keys, I’ll drive myself there.” You quickly say so he wouldn’t get the chance to offer. Not that he wanted to anyway.

He called you by your favorite nickname so you’d look at him, but your back was protecting you from seeing his face.

You let the tears stream down your cheeks as your shaky hands were trying to find your car keys. “You’re not leaving the house-“ “yes I am!”

“No you’re not!” He slammed his fist on the vanity table.

This was his first time being so loud, making you flinch. You slowly turn to him and he looked like a mess, just like you.

He repeats his words, calling you by your nickname as well “You’re not leaving me here. It’s two am. and who knows what the streets are doing-“

“I’ll be fine-“

“No, you won’t be.”

“..I’ll be fine-“

“It’s too dangerous out there.”

“I said, I’ll be fine-“

“You wont be safe!”

“This house isn’t safe anyway!”

You two exchange similar looks, both were scared. Should one hold the other? Should this argument continue? Who knows, but what you do know is that the two of you were tired.

“I’m tired of taking the blame all the time.” Your voice small, slowly you can hear the cracks forming in his heart just by looking at how miserable he is.

“I’m..”

Is he going to say it? Is he going to say it because you told him to, or is it because he really cares..

You. don’t. know.

“I’m sorry” he breathed out and your hand found the keys in your drawer. Taking it, you picked up your bag. “Should’ve said it sooner.”

He stood there in his place even when you left the house, the house you two made memories in. Walking away from him felt wrong, because he wasn’t chasing after you anymore.

Maybe that was a sign. That he was, and will never be, good for you.

part 1

part 2

[itsthewritergal]

Five Dates - B.Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky got the wrong end of the stick and might have fucked things up for good.

TW: Sex work, swearing, Bucky being judgmental, talk about sex, talk about porn, no smut but it is mentioned. angst. (let me know if I've missed anything) - it's not proof read... so I'm sorry!!

(If you like it please tip me and help to support me as a creator :))

Five dates. Bucky had to remind himself that he and Y/N had only been on five dates. He felt as though he had known her for his whole life, almost as if Y/N bought his old self back to the surface. Five dates, he shook his head as a reminder, she knew a lot of his life but not nearly everything. It was only five dates, he took a deep breath as Y/N studied the dessert menu, 

“Brownie or cheesecake?” She asked softly, her forehead crinkling as she tried to decide, 

“Either’s fine with me” Bucky said, he’d go with anything she chose just to see her smile. But she wasn’t smiling, instead she had placed the menu down on the table and looked at Bucky with sad eyes, 

“Buck?” She said softly 

“Y/N?” He mirrored in the same tone 

“Could you please say what you would prefer? You’ve let me pick at the last two places” She huffed 

“I’m sorry Y/N, you know I just want to see you happy” He said softly picking up one of her hands, 

“Please pick?” She asked, looking up at Bucky with pleading eyes, he pressed a kiss to her hand and nodded 

“Lets go brownie” Bucky said, knowing that he would definitely prefer the cheesecake, or just some ice cream but Y/N loved chocolate so naturally he leaned towards that option. 

“Perfect!” Y/N beamed calling over the waitress and asking for the dessert, Bucky smiled as she did so. He truly was in love. 

—

Bucky stopped outside Y/N’s apartment door, he had argued for her to let him walk her home after she had refused because it would be too late for Bucky to get home to his own apartment, knowing it was at least an hour walk. But of course, Bucky had refused and wanted to make sure Y/N was safe. 

“Would you like to come in?” She asked softly, holding on to Bucky’s hand, looking up at him with tired eyes, 

“You’re tired doll, you need some sleep” Bucky said gently, “Go to bed, and I can call you in the morning” 

“What if you stayed over? We could watch a movie and I can sleep on the sofa so you don’t need to feel uncomfortable. It’s late and I’ll feel awful if you have to walk home now” She said, watching Bucky hopefully “of course if it would make you uncomfortable we don’t have to” She said quickly 

“I’d love that doll, and we can share the bed too if you’re comfortable, or I can take the sofa, it’s only fair?” He suggested, the thought of Y/N sleeping on the sofa physically hurting his heart, a sensation he wasn’t used to. 

“Let’s share, it’ll be like a sleepover! Ooh I think I have some snacks too” She beamed tiredly leading Bucky into her apartment. 

Bucky stepped inside slowly following Y/N’s lead, it smelt like vanilla, and sugar, warm lighting flooded the room as Y/N turned on her fairy lights and lamps. It wasn’t big, just two rooms really, Bucky knew it was only a small apartment so he wasn’t expecting much but the moment he stepped inside he could already picture himself living there. 

“My room is just through there, I’ll get us some snacks if you want to pick a movie? Remote is on the bed” She smiled pressing a kiss to Bucky’s cheek, a move that she hadn’t done before and one that made Bucky’s heart squeeze with joy, 

“Sure you don’t need help?” He asked, wanting to soak up every possible moment he could with Y/N

“No, go get comfy and I’ll be there in a second” She said

— 

Bucky did as he was told and took himself through to Y/N’s bedroom which was exactly how he had imaged, a soft pink blanket lay over her white silk sheets, a couple of house plants sat on the windowsill soaking up the moonlight. Y/N’s bedroom was totally normal apart from two big cinema cameras pointed towards the bed.  Bucky felt his whole word collapse the second he registered what they were. Sam had told him about this, a few months back but Bucky remembers the whole conversation. Sam had told him about ways many people had started making money, and Bucky couldn’t believe that Y/N was attempting to make Bucky help her with it. He knew that there would be an ‘adult’ market for those type of films including him, he had seen enough tweets, texts and had been sent enough letters to know there was a large following of women who wanted to know more about how he was in the bedroom particularly. It made him feel sick. Y/N was using him. She was using him for his body. Squaring out his shoulders he gripped his jacket tight and headed back out into her lounge. 

“Y/N, I’ve got to run. Sam just texted, he needs me over there. Some kind of emergency. I’m so sorry” He lied smoothly, knowing that Y/N wouldn’t see through it, he was too good for that. 

“Oh” She sighed, her sad eyes almost made Bucky regret his decision until he remembered what she was trying to do. “Do you need me to come with you? Is Sam okay?” She asked quickly, 

“No, it’s fine. I just really need to go” Bucky said, stepping closer to the door “I had a nice night, but I just don’t think this is going to work, I’m not feeling this. I should go.” He suggested knowing that the moment he was on his way to Sam’s he’d block her number.

“I understand, I’ll see you around I guess?” She said wrapping her arms around herself as she watched Bucky leave her apartment

Setting off on a run he headed straight to Sam’s. 

—

“You’re kidding” Sam said with a laugh as he passed Bucky a beer, “She was a porn-star?” He chuckled 

“It’s not funny, I think she wanted to get me to do a video with her” He said with a huff 

“Well you know there’s a big market for winter soldier porn, do you remember that women who sent you her panties” Sam laughed “To be honest, from the photos she sent you should have taken her up on those offers” He said with a grin, Bucky knew he was teasing 

“Don’t be crude” Bucky said, hating the way this conversation was going “I don’t have a problem with it, if she does do it, but trying to get me to do it with her?” He sighed,

“Do you think she’s really was trying to?” Sam asked seriously taking a sip of his beer 

“It was all set up for it, mood lighting, background all perfectly set and the fucking camera’s Sam! IT makes sense now why she would never tell me about her work” Bucky said, 

“Let’s google her, I bet her videos will come up. We can see what she’s like, and maybe you could join in” Sam said with a wink. Pulling up his laptop and typing in her name. 

After a few quick clicks Sam’s face fell 

“Is it bad?” Bucky questioned 

“You are a dick” 

“What?” Bucky asked feeling instantly defensive at Sam’s accusatory tone 

“She’s not a fucking porn star you idiot. She’s a influencer” Sam said turning the laptop around and showing Bucky Y/N’s YouTube page, hundreds of videos showed up of her chatting to the camera, and sitting doing her makeup. 

“An influencer?” 

“Yes, you really screwed up there Buck. She looks like the most wholesome girl out there” Sam said clicking onto a video. 

“Hello my loves, welcome back to my channel.” Sam skipped forward in the video “What is your love life like? Well that’s a very good question, that finally has a more exciting answer, I have actually met someone, it’s very early days and we’ve only been on two dates so far, but oh he’s so wonderful!” She beamed, Bucky could practically feel his heart dropping as he heard her gushing about him 

“Sam, how do I fix this?” He asked, pulling out his phone 

“I think you need to explain what’s happened” He said “I mean she might not want to hear you out, sounds like you were kind of a dick” Sam admitted 

“Not helping” Bucky said pressing on her number, the phone call rung a few times, and then stopped 

“Hello?” Y/N’s voice said through the phone, she sounded upset, Bucky hated it 

“Hey Y/N, it’s Bucky” he said quickly 

“Is everything ok?” She asked, her tone was curt something Bucky wasn’t used to from her 

“Can I come over?” 

“Bucky I’m really not in the mood right now” She said honestly 

“I fucked up”

“What are you talking about?” 

“Please can I come over?” He asked 

“I guess” She said quietly, 

“I’ll be there in fifteen” 

—

Bucky sat on Y/N’s sofa, his jacket and shoes still on. Y/N had made him a coffee and was sat away from him on one of her beanbags, 

“I’m so sorry Y/N” He said 

“What’s going on Bucky?” She asked 

“I saw the cameras and thought you were a” he coughed, still not used to the modern open way of talking about porn “a porn-star” he said 

“So what if I am” She challenged,

“I thought you were trying to use me for a video, there’s a um, well there’s a demand for it” He said “I get a few letters a month from women who want to see, uh who, want to see that” he stammered 

“You thought I was using you?” She said 

“I did, and I went to Sam and we, well we googled you” 

“So you know I’m not a porn star then? Just a boring old influencer” She huffed crossing her arms 

“I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions” 

“No you shouldn’t have, I thought you’d know me well enough to know I wouldn’t use you” She snapped 

“I was wrong and I’m so sorry” he said quickly “Please Y/N give me another chance” 

“One more Bucky, and I’m going to show you every single paper that I can find on why sex work is real work, I understand that you’re not used to it. But that doesn’t mean you can be that judgemental about it” 

“I swear I will read everything you give me” Bucky said 

“One more chance” she said 

“You won’t regret it” Bucky promised. 

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 10

Part 10:

Art wanted to die. There’s no other way to describe what he had been feeling for the last three days. He hadn’t seen Liana anywhere. Not in the cafeteria, not outside her lectures, not outside the dorms.

He considered entering her room with the key he had, but he knew she would demand it back, and he clung to that key like it was his lifeline. He knew it was his last access to her life at the moment.

Art knew everything he said was a mistake from the second he said those things. To be honest, Art doesn’t remember what he said exactly. He just knows that Liana’s expression changed in minutes from humiliated, to sad, to disgusted, to angry. He knows he made her cry. He made her sob. Liana. The same Liana who, when she entered his room, he asked if she had been crying. When she left his room, he was the reason she cried.

He didn’t know how to come back from this. He didn’t know what to do or who to call or how to start breathing regularly again.

“You’re playing like shit,” he heard Tashi’s voice from afar and lifted his head. “Bad day,” he mumbled and forced a smile. “A bad day isn’t four balls in a row hitting the net. What happened?” she approached him, examining him.

“Nothing, Tash,” he sighed, “Can’t I have a bad day with a few balls not making it over the net?” he rolled his eyes. He said something to Liana about Tashi. And now, looking at her, trying to remember what he said; It couldn’t be anything good. It must have been something awful because the speed at which she distanced herself from him and the look she had would be etched in his mind forever. Why doesn’t he remember what he said? How is she supposed to believe he’s sorry if he doesn’t remember what he said?

“Do you want to play a set?” she asked, and usually, he would jump at the chance to play with Tashi, but it was already the time Liana was supposed to go to her lecture, and maybe today she would leave her room. “No, I think I’m done for today. It can't get any better from here. I need to shower. Good to see you.” He gave her a light touch on the shoulder and headed to the locker rooms. Liana would've definitely noticed that his smile was fake. He stood in front of her room as the door opened. If he thought he looked awful, Liana looked devastating. She looked like she hadn't slept for a month, like she had cried half her life. Her face was swollen, her eyes were red, and dark circles surrounded them.

Her mouth was half open as she looked at him. Both of them tensed, standing in place, unable to speak. “Li…” he started, seeing her begin to breathe heavily in response. “Can we tal-” he needs to make it right. He knows he can make her feel better if she lets him. “You have some nerve,” she mumbled, turning to lock the door, but he knew it was an excuse not to look at him. He knew if he could make her look at him long enough, he could get her to talk to him. He could manage to apologize. “Liana, please.” His voice was weak, begging for attention.

She started walking quickly, and he followed her, keeping pace. “I need us to talk, Liana. Please. It’s me. Give me five minutes. Li-” he spoke, and she stopped abruptly. “Did I stutter when I said you’re the worst person I know, and I never want to see you again?” she asked, her eyes filling with tears that would fall if she just blinked. He knew it was from anger and frustration. Art closed his eyes and swallowed, taking a breath. Her words cut him like a knife. “I know-” he started again.

“Arthur,” she paused for a moment, studying him. He hoped she saw the immense suffering he was in. How sorry he was. That he didn’t mean it. That he needed her in his life. That he might lose himself entirely if she wasn’t a part of him. “Right now, I’m in mourning. As far as I’m concerned, I’m sitting Shiva for you because you’re dead.” She looked at him, still not blinking, not allowing herself to be vulnerable in front of him again. “Do you want me to beg? I can beg.” His voice was weak again. He felt the tightness that comes before tears start to flow. “Unlike someone I know, I don’t get off on humiliating others. Enjoy your life, Art. I hope you get everything you want as long as I’m not part of it.” She concluded the conversation and walked away. He didn’t continue following her, feeling all his internal organs shrink at the sight of her moving away. And maybe she’s right; Maybe he’s really already dead, and this is hell.

The month since the phone call with Liana passed slowly for Patrick. He wasn’t functioning properly. There was a tournament he only made it through two rounds of, and Liana wasn’t answering his calls. For his part, he wasn’t answering Art’s calls. Not that Art called much. About three times, then he probably got the hint. Patrick had nothing to say to him.

Liana called that night and sounded in the worst state he had ever heard her. Worse than that time she broke her arm in the summer at age 15 when they were riding bikes. And that says a lot because her pain threshold is quite high, and if Art managed to make her react like that, he must have done something terrible.

Liana didn’t tell him in that call what Art did, and when Patrick asked if she wanted him to come to her (he really meant dropping everything and going to Stanford), she said she’d rather he didn’t.

So, a month later, with a free weekend, Patrick found himself wandering around Stanford with a bag containing a racket and some clothes. 'If you arrive early, ask Art for the key he has; maybe he’ll give it to you,' she texted him, and he could almost hear her voice through the screen. Broken. Art Donaldson, his best friend, broke her. He wasn’t sure he could look him in the eyes again.

“What are you doing here?” Tashi’s voice sounded from behind him. They hadn’t talked since the fight in her room a few months ago. “Looking for Art, actually…” he mumbled, lowering his gaze to her knee, “Sorry about the injury.” He didn’t know what to say, and she just shrugged.

She looked small and almost fragile. Something in her gaze was shattered. “Yeah, bad move.” She swallowed. Tried to be strong about it. The truth is, he read about it in a sports magazine and wanted to call but didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to help from afar, and he didn’t know if Tashi wanted his help. “What do the doctors say?” he asked as she sat on the bench in the stands, looking at him and expecting him to do the same. “That time will tell? And we need to see how the physiotherapy goes.” She smiled, but her smile was fake; he saw the sadness in her eyes. She wasn’t trying to hide it much.

“I’m sorry, Tash.” Patrick sighed. He really didn’t know how to help. “Art was amazing through all of this. He really helped me.” She examined Patrick and his reaction. “I’m glad he was here.” He said sincerely. He knew that when Art wanted to dedicate himself to someone, he did it in the best possible way.

“I’m sorry for how it ended between us, you know that, right?” he asked after a few seconds of silence. “Yeah, Patrick, I know.” She almost rolled her eyes. “Are you going to fix what he broke?” she asked, and he looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “There’s a shift in his behavior. I don’t know what happened, but something in him changed. He doesn’t talk about you or Liana anymore. It’s a bit weird considering how much time he used to dedicate to both of you.” She said, as if reading his confusion.

“I don’t know if it’s possible to fix what he did, Tash.” He sighed. “Time will tell?” she asked, repeating what her physiotherapist said, and they both knew it probably wasn’t true.

Art waved hesitantly from afar, causing Patrick to nod and get up. “I’m sorry, Tashi. Really. You can call me if you need anything, you know that, right?” he asked. “I won’t do that.” She rolled her eyes, “But thanks,” she concluded the conversation for him.

“Hey.” Art said and quickly ran a hand over his neck. “What’s up?” Patrick asked relatively coldly. They hadn’t talked for a month, the longest they hadn’t spoken since they were 12. For a moment, it felt like talking to a stranger. “Why are you here?” Art asked, skipping the small talk and looking at him with a scrutinizing gaze. Trying to figure out if this was a friendly visit or if he needed to prepare for a battle he didn’t get an advance invitation to.

“I don’t know how to say this, Art,” Patrick mumbled. “Then don’t say it, Patrick,” Art rolled his eyes in response. He felt his heart racing. He realized he was about to lose Patrick.

“Art, come on,” “This is between me and her, Patrick. It doesn’t have to be between us too.” Art said, almost begging. “I need the key to Liana’s room.” Patrick sighed quietly. “Fuck off.” Art started to walk away, showing him a middle finger and laughing a laugh that sounded almost deranged. “Tell Liana if she wants the key her father gave me, all she has to do is come to me and ask.” With that, he left the court, leaving Patrick alone. Well, with Tashi as an audience in the stands.

"So, I guess the key thing didn't work out?" Patrick was sitting in the hallway across from Liana's room, absorbed in his phone, when he heard her voice. Almost amused. Almost like he remembered her. He stood up quickly, scrutinizing her, wanting to see every part of the girl he remembered. To see that she was whole. To see that she wasn't broken.

"I'm fine, Patrick. You can hug me," she rolled her eyes, and he did just that. He hugged her and refused to let go, closing his eyes and inhaling her intoxicating scent. He hadn't realized how much he missed her in the month she barely communicated with him. He didn't understand how much he worried about her until he laid eyes on her.

"Do you want to come in, or are we going to stand like weirdos in the hallway a bit longer?" she asked. "You're mean," he responded and pulled away from her. Not too much. Just enough so they could enter, and he could hug her again.

"Hey," he said once they were inside and he pulled away from her for the second time. He examined her again. She looked tired. Not different from how she looked the last time he saw her. But that time, she had a spark. That time, Art's hand was on her thigh in front of him. That time, he played a part in breaking her. She would never know, but Patrick did it. Patrick caused Art to behave like a wounded animal. Patrick knew exactly what he was doing. He threw him a bone, and Art couldn't resist; he had to ruin everything.

"We have to go to his game tomorrow," she said after they sat quietly on her bed for a few minutes. "What?" he asked, looking at her. "His parents will be there. They know there was something between us, but they don't know we're not talking. And it's already too many changes with me leaving and all. I have to be there, and now that you're here, you have to come with me." She smiled at him. He knew it wasn't a genuine smile. He knew if he didn't go with her, she'd feel even more fragile.

Patrick knew Art. Patrick knew Art even better than Liana. He knew Art lived for opportunities like the one he'd have tomorrow. Liana had to come to his game, sit with his parents, be disciplined, and meet the standards their families held for her. Art was born to exploit opportunities like these.

"Okay. We'll go, and at the end of his game, we'll come up with an excuse. Something about you having an exam, and we have to leave." His arm was around her as she leaned on his shoulder. "What did he say when you asked him for the key?" Liana asked. "Amanda," Patrick sighed. "Just tell me." "That if you want it, you should ask him yourself," he told the truth and felt her nod. "Do you want that key so badly?" he asked, looking at her again. "No. He can choke on it for all I care," she shrugged, but the smile she gave him was fake.

"Can I tell you something without you thinking I'm crazy and a stalker?" Patrick began the conversation for which he came. He moved away from her a bit, sitting across from her. He needed to see every expression. Every facial change. He needed to understand if she was telling him the truth. "You're scaring me, Patrick Zwieg. Come on, say what you have to say. Did you put a camera in the Stanford bathrooms?" she joked, making him give her a light slap on the shoulder. "Be serious," he commanded, and she nodded in response, removing any hint of humor from her face.

"My parents changed their minds about tennis," he said, and her eyes widened. "Really?" she asked, her smile starting to widen. She was happy for him. She knew that to succeed, he needed their support. "They gave me a five-year plan. They said I need to take some business courses twice a week. The rest of the days, they’ll fund an apartment, a coach, and tournaments," he continued explaining to her.

"Patrick, that's wonderful. That's great news. I'm so happy for you." She was ecstatic. He saw it on her. It was a joy that couldn't be faked. The kind that made him smile too. "Now for the creepy part. Don't hate me, okay, Li? Because I see how you get when you hate Art, and I don't want to be that person-" he started rambling. "You would never treat me the way Art treated me," she interrupted him. He saw her jaw tighten. Realizing that was a bad example. "They know someone who knows Kirk Morcich, and he saw videos of me and said I have potential..." He saw she was losing him, not understanding what he was talking about and why he was rambling incoherently, "It's in London. I'll be in London." He concluded. Watching her expression.

You can say many things about Liana, but she doesn't know how to hide what she feels. Her emotions always go a step ahead of her. She wears them on her face like a parade of shame. Blushing too easily, shaking when angry, crying immediately when hurt. She can't lie about feelings. Either she feels them, or they're not there. "Are you serious?" she asked, her eyes starting to sparkle. She wouldn't be alone. Patrick would be with her. So many possibilities. "Tell me it's a good thing and you don't hate me," he said, completely nervous. "Pat, this is the best news I've heard in the past month. I could kiss you," she said and jumped on him in a hug. For the first time in a month, Liana was happy.

Art’s parents recognized them in the middle of their conversation with, well, Art. "Liana, you even look more grown-up. I can't believe you're leaving us like this," Christine, his mother, pulled her into a hug without a second thought. "Mom, let her breathe..." Art said. There was no visible discomfort on him. He was acting as usual. "How are you, sweetheart? Are you eating properly? You look thinner!" she examined her from all angles. "Are you taking care of her?" she turned to her son, who swallowed nervously, unsure how to approach the situation. "Everything's great, Christine. I'm eating all the time," she smiled. Both Art and Patrick knew it was a fake smile. A smile that looked like she had practiced it in front of a mirror. One that revealed teeth but didn't characterize her.

"Unfortunately, we probably won't be able to stay for the game. I just wanted to say hello and wish you good luck," Liana didn't look at Art at all, just glanced at him and saw his fingers moving uncontrollably. "Why, honey? We wanted you both to have dinner with us afterward. To catch up. I'll tell you about all the places in London where you can go and feel surrounded by Americans, so you won't be alone for a moment," his mother was lovely. She really loved Liana as if she were her daughter. It warmed Liana's heart and at the same time made her so angry. How could Art take and destroy such a relationship for a momentary whim?

"I already told Art earlier that I have some project due tomorrow, and Patrick said that if he's already here, he could help me. I hope that's okay." She still didn't look at him. Patrick, on the other hand, looked at him. Art changed colors. He didn't know how to handle the current situation. Throughout it, Liana was better than him at maneuvering the situation. "And besides, I won't feel alone in London. Patrick will be with me." This time she looked directly at Art, and her smile was genuine. It was unmistakable. "Really? How did that happen?" Art's father, Tim, intervened in the conversation. "Long story, something about a coach whose name I can't remember, but it's so great that everything worked out like this, and I won't have to start from scratch." She spoke quickly, lowering her gaze from Art just to give her attention to his mother, who nodded with a smile of her own, not understanding everything happening beneath the surface in this conversation.

"It's a shame you can't stay for the game; after all, you're his lucky charm," she said after a few more exchanged words. "Maybe it's time to find a new lucky charm," Liana replied, and everyone laughed. Some genuine, some fake.

Patrick, at that moment, observed Art, whose gaze was already fixed on him and didn’t let go for a second. Art didn’t laugh. Hello there!!! How are we doing? Patrick is really stepping up his game for our girl! As usual, I'd like to hear any thouths you have. I really love talking to you and getting to know what you want for the story.  you can always ask to be part of the taglist :) taglist: @fangirl-kimora @serenadingtigers @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @ganana @yoitsme-04 @swetearss

[greg-montgomery]

any other world - part 2

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader - soulmate au

series masterlist

A/N: there’s no cheating in this story i promise

this chapter is nsfw! minors pls dni

(21)

The sound of another thunder startled you and almost caused you to spill red wine all over the place as you emptied the bottle inside your glass.

Aaron had big plans for that night, fancy restaurant and everything, but the heavy thunderstorm left you no choice but to stay in. You genuinely didn’t mind. You loved nights in with him, feeling like he was only for you.

Full from the pizza you had made earlier, he was laying on the floor with his head on your lap, staring up at you with a drunken smile. You took a big sip from your glass and ran your finger across his face, starting from his forehead, going down his nose and reaching his lips.

He grabbed your hand and brought your wrist to his lips, and as if he was some kind of vampire he bit your wrist. “I wish I could just chew these two letters up and spit them out,” he said, referring to the initials of your own soulmate.

“Can you chew up yours too while you’re at it?”

Aaron reached his hand up to your face and rubbed his thumb on your cheek. “Do you ever get jealous of her?”

“All the time.”

“I’m jealous of the bastard you haven’t even met yet too.”

You grinned at his words, and the gentle stroke on the side of your face turned into a grab of your chin. “You enjoy that, don’t you?” he asked.

“Mhm…” you said, nodding.

He sat up and brought his face close to yours, staring at your lips. “Torturing me…ever since I can remember us.”

“Aw, my poor boy…” you cooed, and gave him a sweet kiss. Already dizzy - a little from the wine and a little from Aaron’s mouth on you - you accidentally spilled what was left in your glass on his shirt.

“Shit, sorry!”

“The lengths you go to just to see me shirtless...” he said, shaking his head in disapproval before taking his shirt off.

You giggled and threw yourself into his arms, quietly begging for another kiss. He was more than happy to give it to you.

“Can I take you here, on the floor?” he whispered.

“Please.”

He gently laid you down and you observed him, letting him undress you and himself.

Growing a bit possessive of him after the events of that year wasn’t something you could really blame yourself for. Staring at him and seeing that deep desire in his eyes made you feel good about yourself. You were the one he wanted so desperately to see naked, you were the one making him hard, you were the one that would make him feel good.

But you weren’t the only one growing possessive. Ever since your own mark had appeared, Aaron was leaving marks all over your body as if it was a competition. Yes you had another man’s initials on your wrist, but it was Aaron’s mouth that had touched every part of your body, and those marks were the evidence.

You wrapped your legs around him and let him fuck you slowly, welcoming every word of praise he would give you.

“You take me so well.”

“Fuck you feel good.”

“Made for me, weren’t you?”

You could swear that sometimes his voice felt as good as his cock.

--

(22)

“Aaron!”

A familiar voice stopped him from walking into the bookshop he had his eye on. The girl had raised her hand to catch his attention, in case her calling out his name wasn’t enough. Her excited smile made him almost sad, so he put on a happy smile to match her energy.

“Haley…I haven’t seen you in a while. How you’ve been?”

“I’m good! Just got a new job, so I’m spending my first paycheck as a reward,” she laughed, and showed him the bags she was holding.

Aaron couldn’t help but laugh with her. “Well, no better feeling, is there?”

“Nope.” Her smile met her eyes. “How are you?” she asked.

“Good. Shopping as well,” he answered, hesitating to get into more details. Maybe it would be hurtful to tell her he was shopping for his girlfriend’s birthday.

Haley had been really understanding and respectful of his feelings, and he didn’t want to hurt hers any further than he already had.

“Books?” she asked, pointing at the bookshop they were standing outside of.

“Yeah.”

“Mind if I join you?”

--

[11.59 pm]

Your phone was in your hand, waiting for your boyfriend to call. He’d call you and sing happy birthday in a very dramatic and very off key tone exactly at midnight, and right after he’d show up with an equally dramatic bouquet of flowers.

It had been a tradition for eight years now and even though you teased him for being too much, you loved that kind of attention on your special day. He never failed to make you feel like a princess.

But then midnight hit, and your phone didn’t ring. Not five minutes later, not ten, not even fifteen.

At exactly 12.30 am, your doorbell rang instead.

Aaron was hiding behind a huge bouquet of roses.

It was just thirty minutes. It was just the half of an hour. It isn’t important. It doesn’t mean anything.

You kept repeating that to yourself when he apologized for being late, for breaking the tradition, for getting you worried. You repeated it when he gave you a first edition of your favorite book. You repeated it when he hugged you, and the scent of another woman’s perfume on his coat made your stomach drop.

--

(45)

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

Aaron hadn’t heard your voice in such a long time, that you talking to him would have melted him entirely if it wasn’t for the context of your words. Were you in danger?

He opened his mouth but his voice wouldn’t come out.

“Can we come in?” you asked, your own voice trembling.

We?

His eyes travelled down your body and they caught something moving under your long coat. A tiny arm was wrapped around your leg and a pair of beautiful eyes that looked just like yours looked up at him.

“Of course,” he finally answered.

He stepped aside and made room so you could walk inside his house. You took the hand of the little girl that was attached to your body and entered his home.

A burning feeling of protectiveness took over his chest. If someone had hurt the two of you, he would make sure they’d never see the light of the day again.

He checked the hallway for any suspicious movement and after making sure it was safe, he followed you into the house and locked his door.

“Y/N,” he said, but you raised your hand to cut him off.

“I’ll explain everything. We’re fine. I just…I needed a safe place…and some legal advice.”

“Who are you hiding from?”

“My husband. Ex-husband.”

His blood boiled. If that man had laid a hand on you or your daughter he would burn him alive.

“Are you alone?” you asked.

“Yeah. It’s just me and my son. He’s sleeping.”

A sweet expression appeared on your face at the mention of his son. He could relate to the feeling of seeing the person you grew up with being a parent.

You were kids just yesterday. And now you had your own.

Your little girl was looking up at him, with an intimidated expression. He was aware that his large frame and angry eyebrows could maybe scare a kid. So he walked closer, squatted down and smiled at her.

“Hello, little one.”

She waved instead of replying, but that was enough for him. She seemed more shy that scared.

“I’m Hotch. What’s your name?” he asked, gently.

“Leila.”

Aaron looked up at you, and found you already staring at him. He knew that the same memory of the two of you planning your future had flashed in front of your eyes.

“Nice to meet you Leila. You’re safe here with me, okay?”

She nodded her head a few times. “Okay. Mommy said you are best friends.”

“We are,” he answered, without a second thought.

tag list: @magical-spit @lilsunshine1092 @hiraethrhapsody @cult-of-enji-todoroki @emo-markie @jxvipike @ttokkisbee @geminitapestry @rae-pottah @the-night-viewer @i-am-funsize @louderfortheback @hasu-ko @rousethemouse @hotchs-bitch

[xhoneygirlxx]

Fool For You

Dad!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

summary: Life as a single dad but life is about to get way harder when Steve falls for his son's teacher.

warnings: fluff. slight angst: mentions of steve's childhood. steve is sad over his son's first day of school. No pronouns are used for reader but they're described to wearing fem clothing. Steve compares reader to Miss Honey from Matilda. Readers skin tone/ethnicity is not mentioned. fic is set in 91 (let's pretend Matilda had already come out by then). meet cute. mentions of being a single parent. Steve's son is named Danny. ending is rushed lmao lets pretend it's not. bad writing/grammar errors. Not proofread!! 18+ plus only, MDNI

*If I missed anything lmk!

a/n: Awe my beautiful lovies!!! we are halfway done with my wonderful birthday week :( I just want to thank each and every one of you for supporting me and showing me nonstop love. I love each and everyone of you so dearly!!!! I also wanna apologize for the late upload! I hope you guys can forgive me!

Maybe I’m crazy, but it’s hard to ignore you

And I can’t wrap my head around it, but it feels

Oh, like I loved you before.

Being back in the hallways of Hawkins Elementary felt odd. Everything has stayed the same since the last time Steve went there, the paint of the walls, the decorations, even the smell was all the same. It smelled like a chilly autumn morning and books, innocence and childhood - a smell he didn't even realize he missed so much until he entered the building.

The cinder block lined walls hold memories, locking them in place until the end of time. Now his son's will be there along with them, a new generation of the Harrington family ready to leave their mark.

Walking hand and hand with Danny, Steve feels every single emotion any parent would on their child's first day. It's bittersweet, stinging him right through the heart with sadness and patching itself up with a sense of excitement. Danny on the other hand is a ball of energy, bouncing with every step he takes, like he always does.

The small boy is nothing but big smiles, eyes darting everywhere as he takes in the new environment. His Ninja Turtle backpack is comically bigger than him, flopping off of the backs of his knees with every step he takes.

As he looks down at his son, who looks just like him at that age, a big rush of adoration falls onto the older man. Over the short five years that Steve became a dad, he's learned that you can fall in love with your baby all over again just like the first time you held them. Steve is always amazed by Danny and the amount of love that runs through his veins for the small boy, but sometimes you need a little refresher like right now.

"You excited to meet your new teacher, Danny?" Steve swings the small boys arm causing him to giggle.

Nodding his chestnut hair, he looks up at his father with wide eyes. "M'cited dad."

"You gonna make lots of friends?" Steve isn't sure if this question is appropriate but a part of him worries about his son's ability to make new friends, since Steve is the only one out of his friends that has a child.

"I fink so but they hav' to like tourtles." Danny isn't really bothered by the question too much, not when he's too focused on the bright decorations that stick all over the walls.

"Turtles, Dan." It comes out in a chuckle. Even though Steve always corrects his son on the word, he's still a sucker for the way he says it.

Making it to the end of the hall, they stop at the wooden door with the numbers 206 written over them. The memory of Steve's kindergarten years creep into his mind as they stand there, flashbacks of him holding his mom's hand as wet tears streamed down his face. He wonders if his mother remembers that or if she buried that in the back of her mind like everything else in his life.

Pulling himself out of his head, Steve knocks on the closed door and scoots back just a little to leave room for it to open. Crouching down to his son's level, he runs a nervous hand through his hair, fixing whatever pieces didn't stay down.

"Daddy, you're gonna mess it up." Danny pouts, lightly stomping his converse clad foot on the vinyl flooring.

Pulling his hand back, Steve realizes he's using his son for his anxious habits. "You're right, m'sorry. You gonna be okay?"

Danny rolls his eyes in a sassy way, the way that always makes Steve laugh. "Yesss dad."

Wow, his son is really his carbon copy.

The sound of the heavy door opening pulls both of their attention, Steve immediately springing up from his position wiping his clammy hands down his shirt.

Steve steels himself for who he's about to meet, releasing a shaky breath he didn't realize he was holding. Now, Steve expected to see a middle aged woman, maybe even older. He pictured someone with a grandma type energy, sweet and welcoming. What he didn't expect was you.

Standing there in the doorway with the bright light of your classroom falling around you in a halo. A pretty floral dress hangs from your body, cinching your body just right without being too inappropriate. Your cheeks are puffed up as you smile brightly, eyes crinkled at the sides as you do.

You seem about the same age as Steve, no older than twenty five. Glasses sit on the top of your head, pushing back the front of your hair. In a way you remind him of Miss Honey, not looks wise but your aura. You're so fucking pretty and he doesn't think he'll be able to formulate a sentence.

"Let me guess," You stand with a hand on your hip, pretending to think hard, "You must be Mr. Daniel Harrington."

The little boy in question beams up at you, bouncing on his toes as he clutches his excited hands around the straps of his backpack.

"My dad calls me Danny." The lisp that he has is very noticeable when he says it. Steve can tell you want to coo so badly over the small boy, the flexing of your fingers not going unnoticed.

Crouching down to his level, you reach out a hand to Danny for a handshake. "What a pleasure to meet you Danny."

Placing his hand into yours, he shakes it in a jerky manner. His missing bottom tooth shows off with the way he smiles at you. Pulling your hand away, you stand up straight still looking at the small child.

"Danny whenever you're ready you can head right inside and find the cubby with your name on it!" Your voice is like the sun, bright and chipper.

Craning his next up to his dad, he waits for his dad's permission even though his body trembles with anticipation. Steve on the other hand doesn't want to let him go, not ready to detach himself from his baby he spent five years with.

Kneeling down, Steve wraps his son in one last hug. The sting of unshed tears hits his nose first, the lump that sits in the back of his throat waits patiently for the dam to break.

"Okay dad, I have to go!" The small boy giggles, not understanding the gravity of the situation. To him he thinks his dad is just being silly, not realizing that his dad's heart is breaking.

Reluctantly Steve pulls away, trying to remember the look on his son's face. His own flesh and blood, the boy he's worked so hard to raise by himself, and God is his heart full.

"Alright little man, go head inside." Tapping a heavy hand to the boy's head, he watches him duck into the classroom.

Popping back to his standing position, Steve tries his hardest to blink the tears away. You still stand there, observing the classroom behind your shoulder.

"Oh, Mr. Harrington," You call out before he can leave and he's quick to interrupt you.

"Please, call me Steve. I feel like I'm too young to be Mr. Harrington." He half chuckles, ignoring the skip of his heart when he makes eye contact with you.

"Steve," You correct, a bashful smile on your face, "I wanted to ask if you would be the only person to pick him up or if your wife would also be included in pick ups and drop offs."

"Oh, no I'm not- his mom isn't." Lifting a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, he thinks of the best way to say it.

"Danny's mom isn't around, so it'll be just me on pick up and drop off duties. Possibly his aunt Robin but I'd let you know beforehand." A tight smile forms on his face.

"Oh I am so sorry, I shouldn't have assumed." You rush to apologize but you're quickly interrupted with the shake of his head.

"It's okay, you didn't know." He reassures and you visibly relax.

You're just as nervous as he is and he wonders if it's because you feel the same spark he does. Or maybe he's thinking too much into it. Either way, he'd like to think it's the latter.

"Well I'm very excited to teach Danny this year, he seems like a great kid." Although liking kids is part of your job, it sounds sincere coming out of your mouth and not rehearsed.

A coy smile breaks out on the older man's face, rose tint pours onto the rounded apples of his cheeks. "Y-yeah, he's a good kid. He can be shy sometimes but he loves to be around people."

Nodding your head, you sneak another peak behind you to check on the boy. "That's okay, I'm shy too."

When you turn to face Steve again, your lip is tucking behind your teeth. You're so fucking cute it makes him forget just how sad he was to drop off his own son and he doesn't know if that's a good or bad thing.

A long pause settles between the two of you, eyes becoming too bashful to meet. Steve kicks his foot at the hard floor, hands tucked into the pocket of his jeans.

"Well Steve, it was so nice to meet you but I have to get back in there." You sigh hiking a thumb over your shoulder.

Steve feels like someone just popped him like a balloon, the small amount of joy he's felt just by talking to you has now been taken away. Meeting you with a tight lipped smile, he nods understandingly.

After bidding your farewells, Steve thinks about you. He wishes he wasn't so awkward, that he had acted way cooler than he did, and how breathtaking your smile was when you spoke to him and his son.

On his drive home all he could think about was you and his son, ping ponging back and forth between the two. Steve wishes that he met you before today, maybe in the coffee shop on Main or in line at the grocery store. He wishes that he would be able to ask for your number and take you out without any consequences brought on by the school.

He doesn't know how he's going to last a full year with Danny in school and he's really not sure how he can manage to keep a professional conversation with you every morning without falling in love.

The low hum of Rod Stewart's "Rhythm of My Heart" plays through the car, the soundtrack to Steve's drive home.

Ah, the rhythm of my heart

Is beatin' like a drum

With the word's I love you

Rollin' off my tongue

"Fuuuuuuck," His voice drags out in the safety of his car, "I'm screwed."

Yeah, he was definitely screwed.

The ending feels rushed and it's not good but I hope you still enjoy! love you all :)

[wambsgansshoelaces]

hi, i think u did a similar one already but could i get a hc on how succession characters react to their s/o crying? about feeling sad , or stressed , or losing a loved one , idk , just something mildly serious. i wasn't feeling great today and i started crying and my sister told me to stop crying and was like mean af to me and i could use some gentleness and affection :|

aw anon im so sorry :( I know I’m really late with this but I hope you’re doing much better <3 I’m always here for you in my ask box or pms!! your sister is an asshole you can cry whenever you want all of your emotions are valid and I love u u are so worthy

I hope these make you feel happy <3 enjoy x

serious issues (succession main cast)

Kendall

ᝰ when he notices your mood is off, he immediately goes solemn

ᝰ while if it were something smaller, he’d leave it and let you come up and talk to him on your own

ᝰ but he can tell it’s bad

ᝰ and he’s not going to let you stew in this by yourself

ᝰ he will help you

ᝰ whether you want him to or not

ᝰ he gets you a glass of water

ᝰ and forces you to drink

ᝰ then sits you down and makes you tell him what’s wrong

ᝰ when you do

ᝰ rather, when you burst into tears in his arms

ᝰ he can’t help but feel horrible

ᝰ he cradles your face in his hands and kisses away your tears

ᝰ he apologizes over and over

ᝰ he’s rubbing your back the entire time you tell him what’s going on

ᝰ “cry it all out. i’m right here.”

ᝰ he talks you through it

ᝰ he’s cosplaying his therapist

ᝰ if it was a death, he gets the name of where the service will be held and pays for it in secret

ᝰ over the next few weeks, you can just show up in his office and cry on his shoulder

ᝰ and he won’t ask any questions

ᝰ he always lets you

ᝰ the night you tell him, he keeps an arm hooked around you, keeping your head to his chest

ᝰ he plays with your hair and strokes soothing patterns into your skin for the rest of the night

ᝰ as you recover emotionally, he makes sure to check in on you

ᝰ even long after the incident, you both make sure that you have no bullshit check ins with each other

ᝰ “how are you really”s

ᝰ he makes it clear to you that he will always support you

ᝰ and you’re glad

Roman

ᝰ not really the best with words

ᝰ or emotions

ᝰ or being serious

ᝰ however

ᝰ the only time(s) he is 100% serious is when you’re severely upset

ᝰ the first time it happens, it’s like he stops breathing

ᝰ “hey, come here. something’s wrong. i need to know what.”

ᝰ you tell him

ᝰ it’s the hardest you’ve ever cried

ᝰ the entire time, he grips your hand, gently stroking the back of it with his fingers

ᝰ he’s never been more focused on anything in his life

ᝰ he wishes he could help talk you through it, but he’s physically incapable

ᝰ so what he does is murmur a few comforting words then take you out on a boat ride

ᝰ because of course he has a miniature yacht on call

ᝰ “you can relax, take your mind off everything. i’ll take care of things, don’t worry.”

ᝰ the rest of the day is spent the two of you cuddled together, looking out over the water

ᝰ he doesn’t say anything

ᝰ he feels bad because he doesn’t know how to help you sort through your emotions

ᝰ because god knows he can’t

ᝰ so instead, he spends every waking moment with you, at your beck and call

ᝰ regardless, he’d do anything for you

ᝰ incident or not

ᝰ he listens to you when you talk, of course

ᝰ he just can’t give you any sound advice

ᝰ the nights on the boat, when you’re at your most vulnerable, he makes sure you fall asleep before he does

ᝰ so that he can kiss you to sleep

ᝰ and make sure you fall asleep soundly, feeling safe

ᝰ he’ll never be happy unless you’re happy

Shiv

ᝰ she notices something’s wrong, but doesn’t say anything at first

ᝰ when you don’t come to her at all and instead stay holed up in your room, that’s when she knows something is really wrong

ᝰ she crawls up onto the bed with you, and you feel her hands smooth up your back

ᝰ “what’s wrong? tell me.”

ᝰ does not leave you alone until you do

ᝰ listens intently

ᝰ literally memorizes what you’re saying so that she can help fix things

ᝰ the entire time you’re speaking, she massages at your skin to soothe you

ᝰ and it works

ᝰ thumbs away your tears when they fall

ᝰ she refuses to let you go through this alone

ᝰ she helps talk through your issues

ᝰ nonstop reassuring you that everything you’re feeling is perfectly valid

ᝰ and telling you that if you’re upset, she’s upset

ᝰ and that she’ll stop at nothing to make you happy again

ᝰ in all honesty, she’s extremely inexperienced with cooking and baking

ᝰ but she figures it out just for you

ᝰ she makes you a fudge with strawberries and raspberries frozen into it

ᝰ and it’s surprisingly really good

ᝰ your tears ease as the two of you eat together in bed

ᝰ you’re still sniffling when she gently urges you to lay your head in her lap

ᝰ even when you’re this upset, she’s utterly mesmerized by you

ᝰ your lips when you chew, your cheeks, the plush of your thighs as your pajama shorts hike up your legs

ᝰ “i know it’s hard, babe. i’m here. i’m not leaving.”

ᝰ and she doesn’t

ᝰ she’s at your side for the rest of both your lives

ᝰ she holds your hand through all of your difficulties

ᝰ she always listens, always helps you with your issues

ᝰ she’ll never, ever, let you suffer on your own

ᝰ she wishes she could take your pain from you

ᝰ you’re her sun and moon

Tom

ᝰ the personification of a massive teddy bear

ᝰ when you’re upset, he’s in SHAMBLES

ᝰ he swears he can feel your pain

ᝰ he soothes you every way he knows how

ᝰ he keeps you close, rubbing his hands up and down your sides

ᝰ he makes you your favorite meals

ᝰ refuses to let you do any chores

ᝰif it was a death, he organizes these massive baskets to be delivered to everyone affected

ᝰ and the biggest one goes to you

ᝰ it has all of your favorite sweets, a bouquet of beautiful flowers, a blanket

ᝰ and a love letter detailing how you’re the strongest person he knows

ᝰ and that he loves you more than anything

ᝰ of course, he gives you space if you ask for it

ᝰ but he’s always concerned for you anyway

ᝰ he gives you your time to recover while slowly helping you along

ᝰ after a couple weeks of leaving you be and taking care of you at home, he starts making you go out with him

ᝰ “we’re getting you used to things again.”

ᝰ he stays at your side through all of it

ᝰ will always let you vent to him

ᝰ and always does his best to give you advice and help you through your issues

ᝰ every night is spent the two of you chatting about your days

ᝰ making sure the other is really okay

ᝰ his arms are always warm

ᝰ your bed even more so

ᝰ he always makes sure you’re feeling warm and fuzzy

ᝰ he just loves you so much

ᝰ he’ll never let you go cold

Greg

ᝰ when you start freaking out, he also starts freaking out

ᝰ but he gets himself together

ᝰ because you’re a big deal to him

ᝰ and he loves you

ᝰ so he’ll do everything he can to help you

ᝰ in his own way, of course

ᝰ he honestly sucks at talking you through things

ᝰ but he listens to you

ᝰ he loves listening to you

ᝰ after you tell him what’s going on, he pulls you into his arms

ᝰ he just hugs you for a while

ᝰ he doesn’t let go until you do

ᝰ and you only do that to go to the bathroom

ᝰ when you come back, he has a favorite movie of yours pulled up on the tv

ᝰ “why don’t we watch? I think you could use the brain break. relaxing is good for you.”

ᝰ he keeps you pulled tight against him

ᝰ softly stroking your hair, your neck, your shoulder

ᝰ he’s just hoping your mood is shifting

ᝰ which it is

ᝰ he’s not the best with words

ᝰ and he’s not exactly sure if what he’s doing is helping

ᝰ but bottom line, you know he cares

ᝰ and he wants to help, needs to help you

ᝰ he spends the next few days doing his best to make you feel loved

ᝰ he makes you lunch to take with you to work

ᝰ he makes sure your favorite snacks are always stocked in the pantry

ᝰ always asks things along the lines of “do you want coffee? iced tea? I’ll make anything for you” even though he doesn’t know how to cook or bake anything

ᝰ but he figures it out

ᝰ because the only thing that makes him happy is you

ᝰ and he’ll fucking die if he sees you crying again and he can’t help you

ᝰ his world revolves around you

ᝰ and he loves it that way

Stewy

ᝰ honestly, you being so viscerally upset puts him off

ᝰ his world falls off balance

ᝰ demands you tell him everything

ᝰ keeps your face sandwiched between his hands as you talk

ᝰ his eyes never leave yours

ᝰ he nods, makes soothing noises

ᝰ “okay, here’s what we’ll do. we’re going to go have fun tonight.”

ᝰ he takes you out for dinner

ᝰ the entire night he’s just like eyeing you trying to see if you’re still upset

ᝰ in reality, he’s just a smooth talker

ᝰ he has no idea how to actually get serious

ᝰ so now his efforts are put into making you feel better

ᝰ when you pick at your food, he takes your hand

ᝰ and tries to be profound

ᝰ “I know I kind of suck at this whole handling things seriously thing, but I want you to know I’ll listen to anything- everything you have to say. I don’t… you’re not going through this alone, is what I’m trying to tell you.”

ᝰ it comes out really messy

ᝰ but it’s obvious he cares

ᝰ it’s obvious he loves you

ᝰ and that in of itself makes you feel leagues better

ᝰ you decide to walk off your dinner

ᝰ you both take a stroll, hand in hand, through the streets

ᝰ the night chill is strangely calming

ᝰ but you know that’s just stewy, not actually the chill that’s making you feel at ease

ᝰ “we can try stargazing tonight.”

ᝰ “stew, all I can see when I look up is smoke.”

ᝰ because you literally live in new york

ᝰ where rats live everywhere rent free

ᝰ “we’ll just have to drive out somewhere, then.”

ᝰ he actually does

ᝰ the two of you end up in a bit of a rural area sitting in the trunk of his car

ᝰ he spread out blankets and brought pillows and everything

ᝰ he even stopped at a gas station to get you both slushees

ᝰ in the gas station you both mixed flavors

ᝰ and he keeps stealing from you

ᝰ but it’s okay

ᝰ you’re leaning against him, his fingers are in your hair

ᝰ “I’m sorry I couldn’t help more.”

ᝰ “you’re helping me lots.”

ᝰ you give him a kiss

ᝰ “your lips are all blue, stewy.”

ᝰ “the blue raspberry is just really good…”

ᝰ you turn back to the stars

ᝰ but his eyes aren’t even on the stars anymore

ᝰ they’re on you

ᝰ and if he had it his way, they’d never leave you again

[shitsndgiggs]

can I have a fic about arda where he is mad bc of training ir smth and the reader is at home sick all day couldnt do any work at home and when he come's home he is mad that everything is a mess and arguing with her while she tries to tell him that she isnt feelinh well and he sees that she doesnt feel well and tries to comfort him

A/N: First Arda fic in a while🫢🤗

LISTEN - ARDA GÜLER

…idk what to write 🫠

Arda Güler x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The day had been long and exhausting for both of us. I could tell by the way Arda had left for training in the morning—his shoulders tense, frustration already etched into his face—that it was going to be one of those days.

The kind where nothing seemed to go right for him, and he would come home irritable, weighed down by the pressure of it all.

But my day hadn’t gone any better. I’d been sick all day—body aching, head pounding, and a relentless cough that left me too weak to get anything done.

I’d planned on tidying up, maybe making dinner, but even the thought of getting out of bed seemed impossible.

So I stayed wrapped in blankets on the couch, trying to rest but feeling guilty for not doing the things I usually did around the house.

The sun had already set when I heard the front door open and close with more force than usual. Arda was home. I sat up slowly, feeling a pang of nerves. I knew how his bad days went, and I wasn’t sure how he would react to coming home to a mess.

His footsteps echoed through the hall, and soon enough, he appeared in the living room, his eyes scanning the untidy space—the unwashed dishes, the laundry still piled up, and the blanket I had wrapped myself in all day.

He frowned deeply, his frustration from training spilling over immediately.

"Why is everything such a mess?" he muttered, kicking off his shoes harshly. "I thought you'd have at least done something today."

I opened my mouth to respond, to explain that I hadn’t been feeling well all day, but my throat felt raw, and the words struggled to come out. "Arda, I’m—" I started, but he cut me off, pacing the room angrily.

“I’ve had the worst day at training, and I come home to this?” His voice was sharp, his frustration clear. “Can’t you at least help out a little?”

I winced at the tone, feeling a knot form in my chest. I knew he didn’t mean to take it out on me, but it hurt all the same. I tried again, my voice raspy. “Arda, I’ve been sick…”

“Everyone’s tired! Everyone’s stressed!” He didn’t seem to hear me, his anger blinding him to the situation. “But we still have to get things done. You can’t just leave everything for me to deal with when I get back.”

The lump in my throat grew, and I could feel the frustration rising inside me. I wanted to explain, to make him see that I wasn’t being lazy, that I hadn’t been able to do anything because I was sick.

But my voice failed me, and instead, another coughing fit took over. I doubled over, clutching my chest as I tried to catch my breath.

That was when he finally stopped. His anger seemed to pause, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of me struggling to breathe.

“Wait, are you okay?” His voice was suddenly softer, but there was a tremble of guilt in it now. He moved closer, kneeling down beside me, his hand resting gently on my back as I coughed.

I nodded weakly, but I wasn’t okay. The fever, the aches, the relentless cough—I felt awful. But it wasn’t just the sickness that hurt. His words, his frustration—it all felt like too much.

“I didn’t realize…” Arda’s voice cracked slightly, and when I looked up at him, I saw it. The frustration had melted away, replaced by something deeper—regret, guilt, and an overwhelming sadness. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“I tried,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “You were just too mad to hear me.”

His face fell completely, and he sank down beside me, his hands gently cradling my face as he wiped away a few stray tears I didn’t even realize had fallen. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t know. I didn’t… I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

I could see the pain in his eyes, the way he was struggling with himself. He looked broken, like all the weight of the world had come crashing down on him, and I realized then that it wasn’t just me.

He had been carrying his own burdens all day—his frustration with training, the pressure, the exhaustion—and he had taken it out on me because he didn’t know how else to deal with it.

“It’s okay,” I said softly, reaching up to touch his cheek, my thumb brushing against the stubble there. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

But his eyes were glassy now, the tension in his body finally breaking. “No, it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have… I didn’t listen. I just…” His voice faltered, and I could see him blinking rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that were starting to form.

I’d never seen him like this—so vulnerable, so fragile. His usual strength, the confident way he carried himself, it was all gone. He was unraveling right in front of me, and it broke my heart to see him this way.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper now. “I just… today was terrible. I’m so frustrated, and I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I’m so sorry…”

His shoulders slumped, and I could see the tears welling up in his eyes, threatening to spill over. The raw emotion, the way he looked at me—it was overwhelming.

Without thinking, I pulled him into my arms, holding him tightly. He clung to me like he was afraid to let go, his face buried in my shoulder as I gently rubbed his back.

He was trembling slightly, and I could feel the wetness of his tears against my skin.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, his voice breaking.

“I know,” I murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “It’s okay, Arda. It’s going to be okay.”

[occasional-drabbles]

“The worst thing is, that even after all of that, I’m still in love with you.” + “I don't know how to exist in a world without you.” with luke and/or kieran? whoever you feel comfier with hehe <33

Thank you so much for the ask!! This was a lot of fun to do! And as a little treat, I did both twins, each with one of the quotes! Same starting prompt, but each one goes a little differently.

Prompts found here!

Warnings: These ended up kind of angsty, with mentions of some stuff that happens in the latest chapters of the main story, but no major spoilers? Let me know if there's anything that needs to be tagged!

Length: About 1k for each of them, including the starter

~

You knew that this was going to happen. You knew. Yet you still weren’t prepared for the consequences. You didn’t expect for it to hit you so suddenly. 

Sylus was doing everything he could think of to earn your favor. Lavish gifts that cost more than any house in Linkon, beautiful clothing tailored exactly to your style and form, for you and you alone. He did his best to give you his full attention, to prioritize you without jeopardizing either of your goals. He tried, and you had to give him credit for that. But knowing that it was all with the end goal of you being able to resonate with him, to convince you not to hate him… None of it had the full effect. You couldn’t even find yourself completely grateful for the effort, since you still vividly remember the anger in his eyes when the researcher had told him that it was because you were so disgusted with him that you had a mental block keeping you from resonating with him. 

And even as you learned to appreciate him more, as you realized he wasn’t completely awful, you still knew that his efforts to win your heart would be in vain. Someone else already had it. 

LUKE

“Well that’s quite the sad face.” A voice spoke, startling you out of your thoughts. Once you registered who the voice belonged to, your shoulders sagged slightly in relief. 

“Hey, Luke.” You greeted quietly, looking over to him from where you were sitting. Sylus was busy with something or other, you don’t really remember what he said, and you were taking the opportunity to do a little bit of thinking while he was gone. So you’d settled yourself in a chair by one of the windows, looking out over the N109 Zone. Sylus didn’t really like having you near windows so much, especially without him there as a precaution, but he’s not here to stop you and you like the view. It made you feel a little less trapped. 

Luke hummed as he leaned against the wall in front of you, noticing the glittering necklace you were wearing. Beautiful rubies in the perfect setting to show off their brilliance, dainty enough to be elegant but sturdy enough that it wouldn’t be easily damaged. Clearly his master’s taste. 

He didn’t even have to verbalize his thoughts before you were speaking again. “Sylus’s latest gift… It really is beautiful.” 

“But you don’t seem satisfied.” He pointed out, moving to come closer to you, sitting on the arm of the chair. There was still a little bit of space between you two, and oh how you hated it. 

You let him reach out to touch the necklace, leaning closer to examine it. If it weren’t for where your thoughts have been, the guilt knotting up your stomach, you’d be inclined to kiss the beak of his mask to tease him. Just the thought made you turn away from Luke, catching his attention. So he reached up, gently cupping your cheek and turning your head towards him. You reached up to take hold of his hand, relishing in the familiar warmth of it. You opened your mouth to try and answer, to explain, but found your voice stuck in your throat. 

Luke hummed a bit, tilting his head slightly. “Is it an issue with the style?” He asked, earning a small shake of your head. “The gemstone, then?” He tried, earning another head shake. 

You took a slow breath to try and collect yourself, finally finding your voice again. “It’s a beautiful necklace…” you started, reaching up to touch the necklace yourself. “But… I feel bad.” 

Luke waited patiently for you to explain, though you could feel the curiosity radiating off of him, even with his mask blocking his expression. “He’s doing all of this, going so far out of his way, spending so much money, trying to get on my good side… Trying to make me fall for him… But I know it’s just so that I can Resonate with him… So it’s not going to work” You swallow hard, trying not to panic at the thought of what might happen when he loses patience with you. “Plus..” You started, then hesitating again. 

“Plus…?” He encouraged gently, his thumb rubbing against your cheek soothingly. It was the most he dared to offer for the moment. 

“The worst part of all of this, with all of the gits and the attention and the care,” you started, your free hand gesturing vaguely to the room to indicate this entire deal with Sylus, “I’m still in love with you.” 

Luke’s thumb paused, and you couldn’t tell what emotion it was from. Did you fluster him too much? Was he mad? Scared? You both knew that this was dangerous, for both of you. Sylus could kill either of you, or even both of you, for this seeming betrayal. You’d never forgive yourself if you got Luke hurt because of your own selfishness. 

It was only when your eyes started to water that Luke moved again, shifting his hand up to gently wipe under your eye, ready to catch the unshed tear. 

He moved closer, setting his chin on top of your head. The best comfort he can offer without risking stabbing you with his mask. “It’ll be okay.” He reassured, his voice quiet, but the way his chest rumbled your entire body helped your muscles relax ever so slightly. “We’ll figure it out… and I won’t let him hurt you. I promise.” 

You shifted to put your arms around him and hold him closer, no matter how awkward the position was. “I’m more worried about you.” 

Luke chuckled as he wrapped his arms around you in turn, giving you a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be fiiiine.” He teased, his tone more playful now. “You know better than anyone just how slippery I am~.” He added, and you could hear the grin i his voice and oh how you needed this. 

You laughed and moved away just enough to smack his arm, a few tears finally falling that you were quick to wipe away. “Luke!” You scolded, even though there wasn’t the slightest heat to your tone. 

Luke still seemed proud of himself, reluctantly letting you go so he could sit up on the arm of the chair more properly. There it is, that beautiful laugh he loved so much. The laugh that makes whatever punishments may come worth it. 

KIERAN

You’d found your way to one of the rooftops in the N109 zone, high up and out of reach of most people. Yet you’re still not surprised when you can feel someone watching you from nearby. You were sitting carefully on the edge with your legs dangling, kicking them ever so slightly. Tilting your head back to look towards your company, you offered a small smile when seeing Kieran. “I knew you’d find me eventually.” 

“I’d find you wherever you go.” He commented, walking closer now that he knows he won’t risk spooking you. “You know that.” 

“I do.” You answered, lifting your head properly again to resume staring out over the skyline. Honestly, that was part of what’s been going through your head. How, in Sylus’s efforts to ensure your safety, you had to give up your freedom. 

Sure, you could leave and go about, do pretty much whatever you wanted… but you were always watched. Monitored. No real moment to yourself. 

Though… sometimes, you don’t mind it. Because it means more time with Kieran, when he’s the one tasked with watching you. 

Kieran sat down beside you, within easy reach, but still giving you some space. He didn’t say anything, but you didn’t need him to. You scooted over to him, hesitating for a moment. “Where’s Luke?”

“Boss sent him to follow up on something.” Kieran answered quietly. 

You didn’t waste a moment before leaning against him, your head against his shoulder. 

Kieran waited just a moment before wrapping an arm around your shoulders, holding you close to him. “What are you thinking about?” 

You chewed your lip anxiously, trying to think about how to verbalize it. “Sylus. And you.” 

Kieran hummed to show he heard, but didn’t press for clarification. It was up to you if he needed to know. Oh how you loved that about him. How he accepted what he was given, especially when it came to you. You were both aware of the risks, of how bad of an idea this all was. How every little affection, every locking of your pinkies when you stood near each other, every passing glance, all of it just dug you two deeper into a hole you weren’t sure you could climb out of. 

“He’s trying so hard to convince me to Resonate with him… So much harder than I think I deserve, but… I also know it’s not going to work.” You admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “And I don’t know how to handle it… I don’t want to make him mad by telling him, but I don’t know how long I can put up with all of this either.” 

Your voice cracked, and Kieran pulled you closer against him, his head tilted down slightly towards you. He was careful not to risk poking you with his mask, no matter how badly he wants to nuzzle into you and smother you with affection, to try and dispel your sorrows. 

“I didn’t want to deal with all of this…” You mumbled, your eyes watering. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough for this….” 

Kieran hummed softly, resting his chin on top of yours and scooting away from the edge of the building to pull you into his lap. 

“I know that it’s a lot, especially when you didn’t ask for any of this…” He admitted quietly, “But… I’m glad that you’re here, all the same. I don’t want to know how to exist in a world without you.” 

You looked up at him, surprised by such outright affection. While it wasn’t as though he wasn’t capable of verbal reassurance, he tended to prefer actions over words. Perhaps he could tell that you really needed to hear it right now. Just that thought alone had your emotions spilling over, pulling yourself against him more as you tried to keep from having a complete breakdown on this rooftop. 

Kieran kept you close, gently pressing your head into his chest. “No one can see you, up here.” 

You gripped onto his shirt, trying to thank him, but instead what came out was a small sob. So there you sat with him, finally safe enough to let out some of the emotions you’ve kept bottled up for far too long. 

As much as he hated to see you cry, Kieran can’t help but be glad that you trust him enough to let your walls down with him. He wishes that you didn’t have to be so distressed thanks to your feelings for each other, that you didn’t have to have such a heavy weight on your shoulders. At least he can still be here for you… 

When you had finally managed to stop crying and lifted your head, Kieran gently ran his fingers through your hair. “Better?” 

You nodded, rubbing at your eyes to try and get rid of any lingering tears. “I’m sorry about that…”

“Don’t apologize.” He ‘scolded’, his tone gentle with no heat to it whatsoever. “You needed it. I’m glad I could be here to take care of you.” 

You offered Kieran a small smile, still lacking your usual energy but grateful all the same. “You always take such good care of me…” 

“Of course,” he hummed softly, “I’m always here for you.” 

[wayfayrr]

I just remembered how sometimes I yell at Link when he does something that annoys me, like if I’m trying to walk across a really skinny plank but he accidentally walks off/falls off, or when I’m trying to run from an enemy but he starts climbing a tree instead. I’ll just be like “Link no! Get off the stupid tree omg ur gonna die!” Or “Link! Stop falling off the platform! I just wanna get to the top already!” Would he be mad at me for yelling at him? Sad? …..?

Then there’s an unrelated issue that isn’t his fault that my controller sometimes drifts, so he’s walked off cliffs before bc it was drifting slightly forward and I didn’t notice. The most annoying one on my controller is when the motion control stops working and I’m trying to aim my bow and arrow but it freezes so I have to quickly manually flick the analog stick so it works again but by then I might’ve already gotten hit. Is he mad at me for these problems?

Oooooooh! Then there’s the whole having to scroll thru the whole menu options when u wanna attach something to ur arrow. Ugh that takes forever! Like I wanted a bomb flower but now I want a keese eyeball and that’s all the way at the other end of the menu! Is he frustrated w that? (Ik technically it’s “paused” when I do that but let’s say he’s still conscious when I’m doing that it’s just everything around him is frozen in time. So like he’s just crouching there waiting for me to finally attach an eyeball lol).

Or what about the sages?? I love them all so much but trying to find them (and the right one when u have all of them) and activate their ability is sometimes annoying. I’ll want Sidon’s shield for a second but instead Tulin does his gust. Or when I’m just trying to pick something up he’ll blow it away lol. What does Tears think of that?

Sorry this got so long. I understand I had like 4 ideas in this ask, they all just came into my mind at once lol.

I think he'd get a bit upset over you yelling at him, he gets that you're worried that he'll get hurt but it's not always his fault? sometimes sure but it's just starting to hurt his feelings more than anything. when you're playing he's just a puppet in your hands and as much as he loves you he's still 'a person'. if you struggle to even put him anywhere near that position soon then well, it's not like you can yell at him again for it right? he doesn't want to upset you after all.

I don't think that he'd ever blame you for console defects like that, hell he could even be behind a good number of them, it's not your fault the game is buggy. The only time he could ever be bothered by it is is you close out of the game because its so buggy, if the game is getting to the point where it's bordering on unplayable he still can't blame you but it'll get under his skin so much more. is he not good enough for you? is his game not good enough for you to work through the glitches? don't be surprised if you can't exit the game or turn off your switch for a bit :3 surely nothing has gotten corrupted or broken beyond repair right? No he hasn't sabotaged it himself, how could he - why would he?

The menu is honestly pretty sucky at times for throwing items and sticking them to your arrows, besides from reshuffling it to get what you need to be closer to where you start scrolling from. I think tears is most likely to get irritated at the games own design for that, because it'd be so much easier for him to just grab what you needed from his pad to fuse it onto one of his arrows but he just can't, he's stuck having to abide by the rules of the game, watching you struggle with the admittedly awful UI Nintendo cursed him with. If he wasn't so stressed about you resetting him - or worse reporting your 'faulty' copy of the game. he'd take his own steps to make it better for you - maybe he'll even do it earlier if you carry on struggling like this. He just needs to get more confident about it <3

the sages probably mess with him so much, he wants you ALONE and now he's constantly got these guys running around him?? he's gotta interact with them to try and get his abilities (lwk this could make him more jealous of wild who gets to have you one on one all of the time) And most of the sages abilities are optional anyway so I mean, maybe you won't notice if he simply disables them right? he won't delete them outright so if you miss them you can use them but if you don't reactivate them? maybe he could.... so then it'll be just you and him, just link.

[colleybri]

One of the greatest hugs in any film

Interview question: “Do you think Cassian and Jyn would have managed to connect even more due to their shared life experiences if they had even more time?”

Diego Luna: “Obviously! What a good question. I think that hug represents everything that could have been but was not and everything that was too, because that hug meant they were part of something together and I believe that union lasts forever”.

One of the single best story decisions that was made in Rogue One was this incredible hug between Jyn Erso and Cassian Andor, as they await death from the blast of the Death Star.

It’s sad enough just in the context of the film. After Season 1 of Andor, it’s even more moving. I think some of us will be emotional wrecks after Season 2. 

One thing I’m starting to realise only now is how Jyn’s story, as revealed in the film (and the novelisation), reflects Cassian’s so much. She was also a child of war, displaced and effectively orphaned, adopted before being forced to embark on a new life. She had it even worse than him, in many ways. But just like him she had an early zeal to fight, which she similarly went on to lose because of the bitter pain that commitment caused. She becomes disillusioned and cynical about the Rebellion. It takes a combination of hard knocks and a resulting realisation of the desperate NEED to fight the Empire - in order to preserve all that they hold dear - to radicalise both of them to the extent that they are willing to sacrifice their lives for the cause.

Cassian is already in that place - he reached it five years before. But in Season 2 I expect we will see further challenges, see the desperately awful things he might have to do and what else he will need to sacrifice ahead of his actual life. Sacrifices that wear down his soul, bit by bit. Luthen’s monologue hangs over everything. “ I burn my life for a sunrise I know I’ll never see.” It’s a bitter irony that Cassian is frequently placed in sun-rising imagery, culminating in the ‘sun’ of the explosion.

Jyn, in Rogue One, seems to be the spiritual shot in the arm that Cassian needs. In the same way that being inspired by his love for Clem, Maarva and Bix helps to spur him on in the Season 1 finale (when the chances of successfully rescuing Bix must seem non-existent)  Jyn seems to me to be the crucial reminder for Cassian of why he is doing all this in the first place. Her love for her father stops him from obeying the order to kill him. He just can’t do it. He can’t put someone he is growing to care about through the same agony he went through himself.

In the end, neither can live with themselves if they don’t fight. But both of them are fighting for the right reason: love.

The hug is platonic and therefore perfect because it’s universal, in a way: we can imagine - in their final seconds - that they can both see and feel the warmth and the arms of every single person in their lives who they ever loved in any form: parents, siblings, lovers, friends. And of course they also die feeling the arms of each other - bound together by their fight and sacrifice but also an embrace with someone they might have gone on to know, and to love, if the universe had been a kinder place. 

It’s one of the most perfect and beautiful death scenes in any film I’ve seen. 

But it’s also heart-crushingly sad. 

‘What could have been’. 

…..

Edit:

I think the earlier elevator scene is where they acknowledge the loss of what they could have had together. Cassian stares at Jyn with unblinking focus but he looks like he’s dying already from his injuries, and Jyn - not yet knowing for sure that she’s about to die too - looks completely devastated. By the time they reach the beach and see the blast approaching both of them look accepting of their fate… and I imagine that they can use their final moments to internally say their spiritual goodbyes to everyone they ever loved in their lives - and to each other. They are content to die together. They are at peace as they “become one with the Force”.

….

The sand is coarse on his fingers as he tightens the embrace and closes his eyes. Her face had been that of the last being he will see, and he is at peace with that. After all, she had already started to mend his broken soul and remind him of why he was doing all this in the first place. 

Love.

She is warm against him, her grip intensifying his physical pain, and intensifying whatever is going on now in his soul. They hug as if in the hope of keeping each other whole, the hope of somehow stopping the inevitable coming-apart. Almost as if to stop time and be forever in this state of in-between.

But there is no time at all. 

So he thinks he will imagine that the light is coming from her, her bright spirit - her hot molten core - soldering and melting them into one being. 

‘I don’t know where you end or where it is that I begin.’

Extract above from  ‘Dawn Chorus’ chapter 5:

Diego Luna interview:

’ I don’t know where you end or where it is that I begin’ - from the song ‘Vision’ by Peter Hammill.