#and I’m having a hard time keeping from crying so I can like function

[lululawrence]

X

[rxzennia]

sex with aventurine of strategems

✎𓂃 top aven (bottom aven will eventually be served too dw except im hoping to make that emotional so it’ll take a bit hehe), i finished 2.1 yesterday and i’m not fine… angst fic/ character deep dive coming soon (idk when tbh bcs im busy); in the meantime, thirsting for foul legacy: star rail edition boss aven

aventurine in this form is so much bigger than you, it’s so easy for him to just pick you up and manhandle you like you’re nothing. and he loves doing that, picking you up effortlessly and tossing you onto the bed as you spread your legs for him.

his fingers are way, way longer and girthier

loves shoving them up your hole because you squeeze around them so sweetly

also loves hearing that squelch when he pushes three fingers deep into you

oh, you want to touch yourself? nu-uh, he’ll keep your hands above your head

it’s so easy for him restrain you, you’re so much smaller compared to him

and he will tease you to high hell with his fingers

he loves seeing the way you move your hips, trying to chase his touch

but no, darling, he decides what you get, how much you get, and when you get it

your cute whimpers won’t change his mind, even if he loves hearing them

or eating them up as he shoves his tongue deep into your mouth

loves having you moan into his kisses

he won’t stop using his fingers until you’ve wet the bed enough

like, dripping, squirting, anything, until you’ve soaked through the sheets into the mattress

he’s overstimulating you already and he hasn’t gotten to actually fucking you yet

he wants you a mess under him

he wants you to get addicted to his touch

he wants you to not be able to function without him

those are thoughts he has on a regular basis, but they’re amplified so much more when he’s in his boss form

he wants to “preserve” you, so that you’ll never be harmed, or taken away from him…

“please, please, please,” you cry, writhing and squirming desperately as you cum for the umpteenth time, “just, just fuck me already, please,” you push against his hand that has long since been drenched in your arousal, “please, your fingers aren’t enough, hngh…”

“not yet, darling,” aventurine coos in his distorted voice, “not yet. let me play with you, ‘kay?”

he’ll pull his fingers out very, very slowly and watch your expression twist into one of pure agony

you’re arching your back and trying to chase his fingers

he presses your hips back onto the bed, holding you still as he enjoys the sight of your gaping hole

and how you’re completely naked under him, while he’s still fully clothed

he loves the power trip he feels at that moment

he makes sure you can see all the slick on his fingers, and his tongue licks them clean

then he slowly traces your body with his claws, from your cheek all the way down to your inner thighs

if you’re still conscious enough to look, you’ll see the monstrous tent straining against his pants

(if whatever he’s wearing are even pants to begin with)

your hole twitch as you feel yourself getting hungrier and hungrier for him

and he sees that, of course he does

instead of giving you what you want, he’ll keep touching your body

avoiding your hole, though

if you cry, he might change his mind and give you what you want

although chances are he’ll say something like “you’re so hot when you cry” instead of finally gracing you with his cock

he will definitely taunt you and degrade you

“hmm? my darling can’t take it anymore?” he chuckles as his fingers circle your hole that has been clenching around nothing for the past few ten minutes, “look at you, so eager for me… so horny, so dirty…”

when aventurine finally frees his cock, you let out a soft, shaky breath when you realize how much bigger he is in his semi-emanator form. but you’re into that, you’re into everything that he is, anyway.

you try to touch him, obviously, seeing how hard and how much precum is already leaking

no. he won’t let you, not this time

he wants your hole, and only your hole

he grabs your hand and pushes it down

flips you around into doggy while he’s at it

he rubs his tip against you, grinding his hips into yours as he fucks your thighs

you can feel him on your entrance, but he just isn’t slipping in

no matter how much you wriggled around or tried to line him up

“agh, shit, please,” you start, the heat in your stomach slowly becoming unbearable as he teases you with his thick cock, “please, put it in, put it in?”

he does not put it in

until you actually burst out in tears of frustration and pulled your legs apart for him

“f-fuck me already…!” you whine, and he can see how ready you are for him, “please, please, i want you so bad, please, fuck me…”

he loves how pathetic you get when you’re all needy, it feels like you’re really addicted to him

he takes his time enjoying the sight

your hole is so, so, so slick, and he can see your every twitch and spasm

he can’t hold back anymore, you’re just too tempting

“just what i wanted to hear.” he finally grabs you by your hips and slowly pushes his way in

it’s a very, very tight fit even if he’s stretched you with his fingers

he stays still for a bit to let you adjust as he moans breathlessly into your ears

does not help you stay still at all

“mmh,” you sigh and try to move, but damn, it’s such a stretch that it burns a little. still, you’re not going to give up; you’ve been waiting for this for the entire night already, if you wait any more you might lose your mind. “hnngh, you’re so big!” you push against him, fucking yourself on his cock, “ah, ahh, you’re so deep…”

your whimpers are so loud, so shameless! aventurine shudders at the sight of you, on all fours, drooling and crying for him.

his claws dig into your skin as he snaps his hips into yours

you yelp at every movement he makes

you feel like you’re breaking whenever he hits your sensitive spots

which, let’s be honest, is practically wherever he touches

he’s fucking you into the mattress so good, but his hands are also roaming all over your twitching body

which means you get scratches everywhere

he changes positions so that you’re sitting on him, back to his chest

because this way he can rest his head on your shoulders as he abuse your hole

his mask is poking at your shoulder, but he’s trying his best to rest his chin on you instead of his mask

cut him some slack, he’s focused on fucking you silly

he’s looking at you the whole time he’s pounding into you

taking in how your eyes roll back, how your back arches and your toes curl

how, slowly, he’s taking away all your ability to reason and replacing it with his cock

he will lick up your drool and tears

but just his pounding is not enough – you need more stimulation!

you try to touch yourself because he just doesn’t want to touch you the way you want

he will smack your hands away

or interlock his fingers with yours so that you can’t touch yourself

“no touching,” aventurine groans loudly as he slams into you, “i want you to come only on my cock,” he hisses, “only from how good i’m fucking you, hmm?”

though, he sees your teary eyes and your half-open mouth, about to beg.

“aww, can’t take it? then, how about this…” he chuckles darkly, “let’s make a bet, shall we?”

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hey there, fellow writer! How are you doing? :) I just wanted to request a platonic Angel Dust x Nephew (or Niece) reader who is the son/daughter of Molly from when they were alive. Angel hadn’t really got to know them as he had died when they were little, so now that he's reconnected with them in hell, he's trying to bond with his niece/nephew as they are older now

Oh, Hello, fellow writer! I have returned from being dead and this is quite fun! Awww. Another Angel request and of course, it’s hella wholesome. I love it! Can do so! Have a great day, loves!

Angel Dust- Little Spiderling

You know, right away, Angel drags you back to the Hotel when he finds out you’re his niece/nephew by pure accident. You aren’t the little one he remembered once seeing his beloved Molly having but you’re still a minor, not eighteen yet! So, he must protect you! And he will!

Angel has a barley functional life down here and is really struggling through it but the one thing he knows how to do is express his love for people so he does it a lot to you

He tries SO hard to let his walls down to bond with you, to let you know you matter to him and he won’t shut you out. You are really the only person he doesn’t act like a sarcastic prick to but he will not tell you his problems since you’re his family, not his therapist

He really wishes he got to know you when you were both alive, he was so wrapped up in his own life, he didn’t acknowledge you. He barely remembered your name and he is clueless on what you like so he just tries to bond with you by trying to seem like that ‘cool Uncle’

Angel asks for advice all the time. He asks Husk, Charlie, even Vaggie. Advice for how he can try bond with you better and how to talk to you better. He already became your guardian… at his own word, so he needs to know how to connect with you

Angel often gets you gifts, it’s how he sees making you happy with him. Like, he’ll buy something whilst he’s out than he’ll offer it to you when he’s back at the Hotel, smiling so nervously and hoping you’ll like it. He is that one awkward but loving Uncle!

Angel basically dies again, of pure joy, when you express love or appreciation. He already has so much guilt for how little he knows you and how little he paid attention to you back on Earth but now, he wants to try again and he really wants to rekindle so he believes all his effort is always rewarded with the way you smile at him and say ‘thank you’ or ‘I love you’ or ‘I’m glad you want to join’

Angel is also that uncle who goes ‘aww, you’re so pretty. I remember when you were so little! Now, you’re big!’. If he had pictures of you, he’d be admiring them whilst crying

Angel does seem like a selfish man but he’s really only selfish with… everybody else. When it comes to you, he spoils you. He kinds parents you. He doesn’t know how to tell you your mom’s in Heaven so he distracts you with other stuff and he even shows off his beloved Fat Nuggets, to make you smile

Angel has a habit of picking you up, since he is much taller than you, and putting you on his back when it is time to go. He only does this when you escape the Hotel or leave against his wishes, and he can always keep his eyes on you this way

He also puts you on his back if you’re tired or want a nap or even miss him. You weigh nothing to him, and he can handle it well

Angel also loves taking you out to shopping trips with him and Cherri. He loves dressing you up in feminine/masculine clothing and praises you so you feel confident. You look great, and in-fact, he’ll buy that outfit so he can see you in it again and boost you up like a good Uncle does!

Angel actually trusts Cherri with you. He is very protective over you so really, only Charlie and Cherri have the permission to take care of you when he is busy

Sinners often confuse you for Angel’s son/daughter, mainly for the way he treats you, and even Valentino has called you ‘Angel’s kid’ before but he doesn’t take that shit from anybody and sets it straight. You’re his beloved sister’s baby and whilst he loves you, he’d never act as if he is your parent. He is your guardian, get it right

Angel teaches you how to cook the meals of the family. He loves cooking and he’s happy to be a mentor so he’ll ensure you know how to take care of yourself if you’re ever without him and know how to whip up a fine Italian cuisine. Cooking together is one of his personal made bonding methods

As well as baking. Angel knows you like baking so he tries to bake with you. Four arms are very useful and yes, he messes up a lot but the way you laugh at his attempt makes it feel like his eggy crispy frosting mess of a cake was totally worth it. You’re growing to like him more and not be annoyed with the fact he didn’t really care for you much in your past life

I will say now. Angel apologises a lot for the past but you take it maturely and understand his point of view. Though, your acceptance doesn’t remove Angel’s guilt and he takes a long time to feel better about himself, even when you two grow closer and you become more and more fine with him being your guardian

Angel doesn’t understand why he didn’t acknowledge you all those years ago… you’re so cute. What is there to not like?

Angel always sees his twin sister in you. You even look like her, so it means you look… more than a bit like Angel too, and he’s glad. It reminds him that he’ll always have a piece of his beloved sister with him as well as a family member who doesn’t dislike him

Angel’s kinda clingy, straight up. He cries whenever you do something he considers ‘cute’ and mews and calls you ‘Spiderling’ whilst hugging you. Angel is also THAT type of Uncle but it’s pretty cute how attached to you he is

Once more, he does get jealous of Arckaniss. He wants to be your favourite! Not his older brother so he sweeps in and steals you away from when you were talking to Arckaniss too much for his comfort. He is soooooo much better!

Really. Angel, in this entire situation with you, is trying and always trying. He tries to be the best guardian for you, he tries to be the best best friend for you, he tries to be the coolest best uncle for you! He tries and he hopes it works

He is actually fine with you calling him ‘Anthony’ over ‘Angel Dust’ and to make it fair, he calls you your real name over your demon name too!

“Spiderling? Hey! Hey! You’ve been out all day! How come? I thought you liked our shopping trip together! I’m your coolest uncle, aren’t I? You liked that scarf I got you! Should I get another? Yeah? Yeah? What do you think?”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 16

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

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

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.

This lewk but silverfox

You sit in another hard plastic chair, this time in an office. You can still hear the chaos of the hospital wing out the walls, a constant reminder of why you’re there. You sit with your elbow on the armrest, your chin in your hand as you bite your fingertips.

The nurse, or nurse practitioner, you don’t know the difference, sits across from you, making notes about your last response. Her questions are pointless. She’s asking about your day, well, it’s obvious that’s not going well. And your hobbies. What do those matter? You don’t do anything so you don’t have an answer for that.

She smiles across at you as she clears her throat. The sort of smile dripping in pity. You get it a lot from the old ladies at the grocery store when they see you helping your mother.

“Have you ever had a period where you felt down? Not just for a week or two but, in fact, for many weeks and, perhaps, months?” She asks.

You don’t answer right away. You push your shoulder up and sit back, dropping your hand to your lap. You frown and look at the ceiling.

“Hm, I guess. Sometimes... yeah.”

All the time.

“Along with that, did you find you had no energy, had no interest in things, and overall had great difficulty functioning?”

Functioning? In what way? Going outside? Smiling? Feeling anything but heavy dread? Not crying until your eyes are raw? Having friends?

“Sure, but uh, I take care of my mom. I don’t have time... sometimes...I get tired.”

"Right,” she scribbles noisily with her pen, “Has this ever happened to you before?”

“Has what happened?” You make yourself look at her.

“These bouts of sadness?”

“My mom is sick. It makes me sad.”

“What about today? You said that you... lost track of time.”

“I’m... my mom... I didn’t sleep well... I don’t know.”

She hums and nods. She pauses as she reads over her folder and puts the pen down. She crosses her arms over the desk.

“It’s normal for caretakers to suffer from depression. You’re taking on a lot so there’s no need to be ashamed. You did so well being so honest today. Really. It makes it easier for us to help you,” she smiles again. What about any of this is happy? “I’m going to write you a prescription. Just a few doses for now, okay? To help you through. And we’ll schedule a follow-up with a psychiatrist.”

“A psychiatrist?” You utter, your eyes hot with tear. “I’m not crazy.”

“That’s not... crazy, we don’t speak like that. And you’re not. You’re hurting and you need relief. That’s all,” she explains, “so, the pills I’m going to send you off with. I want you to be very careful, okay? No alcohol. They’re going to make you drowsy so no driving either.”

“But... my mom doesn’t drive. She can’t.”

“It’s just for a few days. You might want to consider looking into some of the local services. You can find a home nurse to come help out if you qualify,” she gets up and goes to a cabinet against the wall, “I have some pamphlets. You can take them with you and I’ll have someone find you with some samples of the pills. That way, you don’t need to pay, alright?”

Your lips trembles and you bite it to keep it still. You nod and stand as you flick the wetness from your eyes, “can I go?”

“Sure, I’m sure your mom will be ready to see you soon,” she approaches you with a handful of glossy leaflets. “I’ll walk you out.”

You take the pamphlets and she follows you to the door. You step into the hall as she stays close, “Mr. Rogers,” she calls over your shoulder as Steve sits in the hall waiting, “she’s all good. Got her sorted.”

“Great, uh, well, good news,” he stands, rubbing his lowers back, “your mom’s awake.” He announces, “can finally get off this stiff chair.”

“See, that’s wonderful,” the nurse nudges your arm, “I’ll have the medications brought to her room. Have a good day, hon.”

You clutch the pamphlets and stare at Steve’s chest. He points you down the hall and walks beside you.

“Everything go okay? What was that she said about medication?”

“Pills.”

“Pills? For what?” He prompts as he leads you along the hallway.

“Depression.”

“Oh.”

You look down, “guess I might be. I don’t know.”

“You work really hard, sweetie. You’re not invincible,” he comforts and rubs your back. You wince at his unexpected touch, “all this stress...” he trails off and reaches for the pamphlets in your hands. You let him take one, “what’s this?”

He reads as he walks, unbothered by the nurses rushing by and the cleaners in their grey scrubs.

“Home nurse? Hm, that might be a good option,” he clucks, “or maybe... I wouldn’t mind helping out, you know? I know it’s early days but I think we’ve gotten really close.” He folds up the paper and hands it back, “me and your mom... us too, I think.”

You shrug and drag your soles on the floor. He reads the door number as you reach your mom’s room and he waves you in ahead of him. You keep your head down as you go past the curtain as he directs you from behind. You stand at the foot of the bed, too afraid to look up.

“I’m starving,” your mother snarls. She sounds like herself, just tired.

You peek up and your eyes round. She scowls at you as she lays tangled in tubes. You quiver in relief. She’s alive and she seems mostly okay.

“What’re you staring at?” She sneers, “I know I look like death. I feel like it too.”

“Holly,” Steve steps forward, “thank god.” He comes to her side, “we were so worried.”

“Heh,” she snorts.

“Really, when I found you...” he tries to block you out as he lowers his voice, “you never told me you weren’t supposed to drink.”

“Never bothered me much before,” she dismisses, “figured it was just a precaution.”

“Excuse me,” a voice comes from the doorway and you look over at a young man in blue scrubs. He says your name, “I have some samples for you.”

You turn and wave meekly, confirming your identity. He enters and hands you several boxes secured together with a thick elastic.

“Directives on the side,” he points to the folded paper also looped under the rubber band.

“Thanks,” you say and he leaves you just as quickly.

Your turn back to your mom as her eyes center on you. She looks horrible. Sickly. Worse than you’ve ever seen her.

“What’s all that then?” She scoffs.

You try to hide the boxes under your arm and shake your head.

“Typical. She’s gotta get her share of attention.”

“Holly,” Steve girds, disappointment harshening his tone, “she was sick with worry over you. The nurse gave her those to calm down.” He grips the bedrail until his knuckles pale, “she has depression, you know? All the stress--”

“Stress?” Your mom rolls her eyes, “I didn’t realise she was the sick one. She’s not depressed, she’s lazy.”

Silence. Stifling, suffocating silence. You lower your chin, “it’s... I probably won’t take any of it. I was just... in shock. I’m sure I’m fine.”

“But the nurse said--” Steve begins, “you’re going to at least try it. You never know, it could help. And if it doesn’t, it doesn’t.”

“Oh, don’t baby her. She’s grown,” your mom’s too out of it to filter her spite. You see the disgust in Steve’s expression as he looks at her.

“Holly, please, she’s your daughter.”

“I know who she is,” she snarls, “why are you taking her side anyway? She doesn’t need pills. It’s just another excuse.”

He closes his eyes and takes a breath, “I’m gonna chalk this up to whatever they’re pumping you full of. Holly, you’re not thinking straight. I know you would say all that to her.”

“Stop defending her. She’s not as innocent as she pretends.”

He shakes his head and glances over at you, “look, you just woke up, you’re out of it. I get it. Let’s just all calm down.”

“She’s a sniveling little brat,” she barks as she leans back. “This is all her fault. She knew I wasn’t supposed to drink. She didn’t stop me.”

Steve blanches and his eyes cling to you. You see the chagrin lined in his forehead. You look away in shame. You never wanted a witness to your mother’s wrath. That’s worse than facing her alone. It’s humiliating.

[the-hopeless-haze]

I Do Bad Things With You

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: smut. nsfw mdni

Summary: You don't feel like you're a good agent. Aaron assures you that you are. And then he fucks you. or inn other words, I think I need someone to study my brain because I did cry in my boss' office for very similar reasons to this and I am very much attracted to her but we did not fuck in her office and she has no idea I want her I just have breakdowns at work because 1) it sucks and 2) I am mentally unwell. I just truly don't know if this fic was birthed from the worst compulsory heterosexuality of all time or if I'm truly just an insane bisexual (I think it's the latter) but when I tell you I have not thought about Hotchner in years I MEAN years. I haven't watched Criminal Minds in like five years until today to write this fic. But like. He is FINE. y'all know. you're here. come for my unhinged summary stay for the smut idk

--------

“I can’t do this anymore,” you mutter under your breath, hating how the tears fall anyway, how you can’t stop them. “I’m not doing a good enough job. I need to leave.”

“What are you talking about?” Aaron asks you. “Why do you feel that way?”

“It’s just… it’s just I feel like I can never get a grip. Like I can’t ever get everything done that needs to get done. Like I’m not good enough.”

“You’re good enough. You’re a good agent. You come in and you do your job,” he says gently. “I don’t need anything else from you.”

You were usually so put together, so stoic, even, so sure of yourself. He can’t quite believe you’re in his office like this, past the verge of tears, sitting across from him weeping.

“I’m proud of you.”

“For what?” you ask, lifting your head to look at him.

“For the effort you put in. How you’re a new agent and you still proved yourself to my team. You’re living up to your potential and then some. We appreciate you. I appreciate you.”

“You just have to say that.”

“No. I don’t have to say anything. I’m telling you what I see and what I believe. And I’m not letting you quit.”

“But, sir, I—“

“I won’t accept it,” he says firmly but quietly. “You’re too good of an agent to lose. You know this. You know your grades were stellar and your psychology background is enviable. You know you passed every test with flying colors. The adjustment to being a full-fledged agent in the first year is tough, to say the least. It’s grueling. Getting accustomed and used to death, danger and just the pressure of the job is something that not everyone can handle. But you can. I know you can. If I lost you, I’d lose an asset. You’re an excellent profiler. It’s intuitive for you.”

There it is, though, that behavior analyst part of your brain and you noticed how he said “I” and not “we” and how his eyes softened, how he wasn’t looking at you sternly and stoically but there was more of a tenderness in his dark eyes.

He likes you. He means what he says. You know he does.

But that isn’t enough. You don’t believe what he says. You don’t believe you’re worthy. This job takes up so much of your waking hours but when you’re outside of it you have next to nothing. You’re not close to family here in Virginia. You don’t have a significant other. You’re not home enough to have a dog. And you just feel like you’ve been letting yourself go since you only seem to have time to eat, sleep and work.

You’ve always been an anxious person. You’ve managed to quell the thoughts wracking your brain with years of practice and medications to a point where you can function, to a point where you made it through school and made it into the FBI. Impostor syndrome dies hard, though. You keep trying to swallow down your tears but it’s fucking impossible when you’re like this. You dry them on the sleeves of your blazer, biting your lip nervously.

“Don’t cry. It’s okay,” Aaron says, breaking through your thoughts.

“It’s not okay,” you murmur. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I shouldn’t be breaking down crying.”

“You’re human,” he says gently. “This job is overwhelming.”

“It doesn’t seem to get to you.”

“It does. It still does. I… I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you.”

“I just don’t think I can do this, Hotchner. With all due respect, I need to put my two weeks in,” you say, strengthening your weakened resolve.

“No,” he refuses, shaking his head. “What do I have to do to get you to see what I see?”

You sigh, leaning forward and bracing your head in your hands. “I don’t know.”

You feel him before you see him, refusing to lift your head up as the tears started streaming down your face. He kneels in front of you, taking your hands gently from your cheeks, but your eyes are still squeezing shut. “Look at me,” he orders.

“Hotchner, I—“

“It’s Hotch. You know that. Or… you can call me Aaron. Just call me Aaron. Look at me.”

Finally, you blink your eyes open, tears spilling over, and he squeezes both your hands gingerly.

“Good. Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go home for the night. You’re going to take your mind off of the job. And you’re going to come back tomorrow morning and everyone in here is going to talk about how much you’re missed when you’re gone. Because we all value you. But you need to take the time for yourself. You’re burnt out. You’re not a bad agent. You’re just mean to yourself and you shouldn’t be.”

It’s not lost on you, the way he’s still touching you when you don’t think you’ve seen him so much as brush against anyone else on the team. Is he…?

You squeeze his hands back, forcing yourself to smile.

“There we go,” he smiles back. “See? Do you feel better?”

“A little. Thank you, Hotch.”

“Please. You can call me Aaron in private,” he reiterates. He would have, could have, should have let you go by now. But he hasn’t.

“In private?”

“I don’t let just anyone use my first name. There’d be questions if you started using it especially since you called me SSA Hotchner for months before I got you to just say Hotchner at least. You’re a rule stickler, hm? I think that’s part of your problem.”

“You don’t strike me as the type to think rules are made to be broken,” you counter. Sure. You were a stickler. You were. Deferential to authority - that deserved it. You spoke out, and you would speak out of turn if anything felt wrong or uncomfortable. Rules made things feel safer. Still. You’d call out the unjust. And you think Aaron is the same way.

“Some of them are,” he muses.

“You yelled at me,” you say suddenly. “My third week.”

He furrows his brow, trying to recall the incident you were talking about and then he nods. “You were reckless. You put yourself and Morgan in danger. You walked straight into an ambush. It was a mistake. A rookie mistake. A mistake you learned from. You never did it again.”

“But I—“

“It’s been almost a year since then,” he says, gently. “I don’t hold it against you. I’ve had to pull everyone who works here aside for something. And I’ve been pulled aside myself. No one’s perfect. I… I raised my voice because I was worried about you. Not because I was angry with you.”

“Okay,” you breathe out, nodding. “Okay.”

“I wish you could see what I see,” he says.

“Hm?”

“I see a strong, capable, intelligent young woman who’s an amazing profiler — you can glean someone’s familial background in record time. I see a woman who holds her ground and then some in interrogations.”

“I’m crying in my boss’ office right now,” you titter awkwardly.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re still all of those things. I see a beautiful woman who’s passionate about her career, who wants to do the best she can…”

He trails off. You wonder if he realizes the weight of what he said.

Always walking the line of professionalism. Making any comments regarding your appearance was crossing it, even if it was as benign and modest as “beautiful”. It was still a step too far.

But you, you’re depressed and anxious, and you’ll take whatever you can get.

He’s still kneeling in front of you.

You know it would be stupid, especially when he’s a broken man himself, even if he denies it to everybody. His wife cheated on him. It was hard, with the job, to have a stable relationship with anyone outside of it. You know this. You’re living it.

He’s still touching you and your skin is on fire now.

“I’m sorry,” he says, but he makes no effort to move, no effort to stop staring through your eyes to your soul. Is he profiling you? Trying to see if your breath hitched when he let the compliment slip?

“Don’t be,” you say breathily.

“It was inappropriate,” he says, and he does get up then, wincing at the stiffness in his knees from crouching in front of you for so long. You miss the warmth of his hands already. “You’re dismissed, agent. Go home and take care of yourself.”

Your emotions flip like a switch, it’s just how it’s always been, and you use it to your advantage in a room full of profilers. It’s good to be unpredictable, a wild card. You don’t even mean to. You just are. You can’t help the words that come out of your mouth next. He stood up, so he’s towering over you as you sit in the seat across from his desk, but he’s looking down at you, waiting on your next sentence. And what you say is, “Agent? I thought we were on first-name basis, Aaron?”

It’s the first time you’ve said his first name, and it goes right through him. He wasn’t lying. Not many people do have the privilege to use it. None of his subordinates would be brave enough, maybe not even if he gave them explicit permission like he gave to you. It’s intimate, all these walls up in this bureaucracy that even something as simple as a woman using his first name could drive him up the wall like it would an upstanding Christian man in Regency England. Rules. Rules to be broken.

Aaron whispers your first name, and it’s barely audible, but you hear it in his low, soft baritone. Not the first time, but the only time he’s said it without your last name tacked on the end of it. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what, Aaron?”

You’re teasing, now, and he wonders if it’s just a reflex, trying to gain back some of the power you lost by coming in here crying, or if you genuinely want something from him besides reassurance and a couple of hours off from work. It was maddening at first, trying to figure you out. He still doesn’t know exactly who you are and he’s resigned himself to the fact that maybe he’d never be able to nail you down.

“Don’t,” Aaron says again, looking at you sternly as you stand up.

“What is it that you don’t want me to do, Aaron?” you ask, and you’re still not eye to eye but you’re closer now, and his eyes never left your face throughout the whole conversation anyway.

He says your name again like it’s a curse under his breath. “You know exactly what you’re doing. Stop it.”

“Use your words, Aaron.”

“Stop teasing me,” he murmurs, looking away from you for the first time, down at the floor. You never expected him to be so… shy.

“I’m teasing you?” you ask, feigning innocence. You didn’t have to be a profiler to see how he was getting tenser as you continue this conversation.

“Yes,” he says, looking back up at you, an edge to his voice you hadn’t heard before. “And I suggest you stop.”

“Or else?” you say before your brain can catch up. You’re playing with fire. You know you are.

But you like him. Tall, dark, handsome, nothing like the men you’ve been with before. Other men were intimidated when he walked into the room. And you being you… you always wanted to break him down into a crying, blubbering mess, and be the only one who got to see him like that. Break the stoic wall and get to see him. Human.

And if he was this reactive to you just saying his name?

Lord help both of you.

“Please,” he murmurs. “Go home for the day.”

“Is that to help me, or you?”

He shakes his head, smiling a little. “Perhaps both of us.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t jump at the chance to get my resignation if I make things so… hard… for you, Aaron,” you say, and you move a little closer, his breath hitching audibly in his throat.

Again. He says your name like it’s the worst curse in the book, hissing it like it physically hurts him, and you know, maybe you are.

“A little selfish, maybe. I’d miss you too much,” he admits. “And I meant what I said. I’d lose an asset. You’re a stellar agent.”

You don’t really know what to say, now, but he continues.

“Profile me,” he whispers. “In this moment. What am I thinking?”

“So you don’t have to say it out loud?”

“Mm.”

“You want me, Aaron,” you say shakily, losing your resolve almost as quickly as you gained it back. “I don’t think you’d have to be a profiler to figure that out.”

“Is it that obvious?” he asks.

“Right now… yes.”

“You need me. You need me to show you how valued you really are,” Aaron says, searching your eyes for confirmation that you want this, too. As always, though, you’re unreadable. “Say it. Let me show you my appreciation.”

God. What in the world? Your brain is fuzzy with lust, and never in a million years would you have thought this is how today would’ve gone. Mondays back in the office are always the worst, piles of paperwork from the cases prior to sift through and file and the anticipation of when you’d be on the road or up in the air next always gnawed at your stomach. You fully expected to give your notice and come home crying. You didn’t foresee the prospect of being utterly fucked by your boss who very much did not want you to resign.

You know why the rules are in place. Dating coworkers was messy anyway, never mind dating someone in this line of work. Still… you thought it made sense in a way. The only person who was really going to understand your crazy schedule was someone who was working the same hours.

So you nod, giving him full permission to do as he pleases.

His lips meet yours, surprisingly soft and gentle, akin to the way his hands squeezed yours before. “I can’t believe I held myself back from doing this for this long,” he mumbles against your mouth, then he pulls you in an embrace, leaving hot open-mouthed kisses on the side of your neck where he can reach. “I need you here. I need you to promise me you’ll stay.”

“I’ll stay, Aaron.”

“I’ve wanted your body since the second you walked into this building. I need you. You ground me. Make me feel better, human. Like maybe I could exist outside of the field and outside of this office.”

“Did you know I was struggling?”

“You hide it well. I knew you were frustrated, but the last case was tough and we all are a little on edge. I’m sorry. I should’ve been there for you to lean on, honey,” Aaron says, moving his head back to face you, eyes meeting yours earnestly. “I want you to always come to me if you need anything. Anything.”

You don’t say anything, just hum contently, pressing your mouth back to his for a kiss that starts off chaste and quickly becomes heated, his hands cupping the curve of your ass.

“Answer me,” he says firmly. “Promise me you’ll always come to me.”

“I promise,” you agree.

“Good girl,” he affirms. “You’re such a good girl. Never have to worry about you doing your job. You always get your reports to me on time, you always make brilliant deductions when we’re going over cases, you always make sure the rest of the team doesn’t need anything… such a good girl.”

You kiss him fiercely, the voice in your head screaming he was your boss and both of your careers are on the line if this goes south long silenced. His large hands on your ass pull you closer to him, and you feel his hardening cock against you as he does. “Aaron,” you choke out breathily.

“Feel me? That’s what you do to me, honey.”

You snake a hand between your bodies and palm him through his dress pants, and you can tell he wasn’t expecting that to be your next move from the way his cheeks flush and he groans heavily. “This is about you,” he manages to say, taking your hand away from his clothed cock. “All about you. Go sit on my desk, honey.”

You do as he says, squeezing your thighs together as he follows you and takes his suit jacket off, revealing his tasteful button-down underneath. “Good girl,” he whispers, spreading your legs with hands, kneading the flesh of your thighs as he does so, letting the fabric of your skirt ride up.

And then he digs his nails under the thin sheer of your tights and rips them. “Aaron!” you hiss in surprise.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” he responds almost dismissively, easing the torn fabric down the length of your legs, kissing the swell of your calves as he takes your heels off and places them on the floor underneath the desk.

“I’m more worried about how I’m going to walk out of here,” you say, smiling.

“I sent them all out on different tasks and told them to get lunch first. They’ll be gone for a while.”

“Did you plan this?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

“Not exactly,” he smirks. “But now you can be as loud as you need to be.”

“Aaron,” you say, almost scolding, but whatever you were going to say after that is lost in the recesses of your mind as you feel his mouth on yours again, hot and ready, tongue gliding against yours with ease. He shrugs your blazer off, too, leaving you in just a black tank top and your skirt that was hiked up to your waist.

“I believe regulations are to wear long sleeve button-downs underneath blazers,” he says lowly. You know it’s a lie. If Garcia can dress the way she does there are certainly not strict restrictions on what you can wear, even if you’re a field agent. But you’ll play along.

“I believe regulations are not to have your subordinate spread out on your desk in front of you, sir,” you retort.

Aaron chuckles deeply at that. This is how you usually were, sarcastic and snippy, even with him at times. Funny. “Rules and regulations,” he muses. “I think I’m alright with those two being broken.”

And with that his fingers of his right hand start ghosting your cunt, pressing the thin cotton of your panties, groaning lowly at how wet you are. “You’re soaked, honey,” he says. “Can I feel you? Please.”

“Yes, Aaron, please touch me,” you nod.

He pushes aside your panties, slipping his index finger in slowly, catching your lips with his in the process.

“Want to make you feel so good, so much better,” he murmurs, starting slow and building up pressure before he inserts another finger, stretching you out, making you impossibly wetter, reaching depths of you that you couldn’t reach yourself with your much shorter and thinner fingers. “Lift your hips,” he instructs, and in one swift motion, he slips your panties off, pocketing them in his dress pants. “Good girl.”

“Not fair, Aaron,” you say.

“What’s not fair, honey?”

“You’re still fully dressed,” you point out, reaching for his tie to loosen it. You were absolutely soaked, you could feel it, and you wonder if his desk will stain from your slick. You untuck his shirt from his pants and run your hands over his stomach, scars under the pads of your fingers, God, you want to lick every inch of him.

“Mm. I can help you remedy that,” he agrees, meeting your hands when you were halfway through the buttons on his pristine white shirt, pulling it over his head along with his undershirt. You reach for his belt buckle and he stops you. “Not yet. Let me do something first.”

And before you know it his tongue is on you, swirling incessant circles around your swollen clit, and you can tell he’s not taking his time now. He wants to bring you over the edge and fast, and you wonder how long it will be before the rest of the team do return from their extended lunch breaks. You’ve been eaten out before, sure, but to use a cliched metaphor for the umpteenth time in human history, you finally figured out what women meant when they said their man ate them like it was their last meal on death row. You clamp your legs against his head, and he moans, sending vibrations through your cunt, damn near sending you over the edge as you pant and whimper.

“Am I not making you feel good?” Aaron looks up in worry.

“What? Why would you say that?”

“You’re not screaming. I suppose I should try harder,” he says, furrowing his brow and then he adds his fingers back, fucking deep into you. His tongue focuses on your clit and your thighs are shaking and you gasp, no longer able to hold yourself up seated, leaning back and bracing yourself on your elbows.

“Aaron, I’m so close,” you moan, trying to fight the urge to push him away as the pressure builds. You squeeze your thighs tighter and the sudden force of it drags Aaron’s tongue flat against your clit, and that’s what sends you over the edge, whining his name over and over again.

He doesn’t stop.

“Aaron,” you choke out, trying to back away from him due to the overstimulation. “Aaron. Please.”

“You can be louder than that,” he says, not bothering to lift his head, voice muffled by your wet cunt. “I’m not stopping until you reach a decibel level I’m satisfied with. And I will know if you’re faking.”

You’ve never had anyone go down on you for multiple rounds. You were lucky if you came once with previous partners. Part of the reason you never wanted to make a move with Aaron was that you figured he would ruin you for other men.

And God. Were you right.

You only hope you’re ruining him for other women.

You know you’re next orgasm will be embarrassingly close as he never gave you a chance to come down from the first one. You didn’t expect it to come on like it did though, your right hand carded in his jet black hair, just again, him flattening his tongue against your clit as his fingers continued to scissor you open and you can’t help it, gasping for air, shouting, yelling, keening his name. “Aaron,” you plead. “I can’t give you another one. Please.”

“Shh. Good girl. You can and you will. For me,” he commands authoritatively.

And you can. And you do.

The next time, mercifully, Aaron stands up, and leaves you alone to breathe. He kisses you and you taste yourself on his tongue. He’s achingly hard now, a quite visible tent noticeable in his dress pants, cheeks red from exertion, everything from his nose to his chin wet with your slick.

What a vision.

How were you ever going to get this out of your head?

“Can I be inside you? Please?” he asks.

“Yes,” you affirm.

Aaron lets you unbuckle his pants and lets them pool to the floor, helping you out of your tank top and bra, sucking and biting on your nipples and the flesh of your breasts for a few moments before he steps out of his shoes and boxers, completely bare in front of you.

“God, Aaron,” you breathe. “You’ve really been holding out on me.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and his cheeks flush redder. “I could say the same for you, sweetheart.”

“How long?”

“I told you,” he says lowly, lining his cock with your entrance. “Since the second you walked in this building.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you ask, but it’s a loaded question if not a stupid one. There’s a myriad of reasons why you don’t tell someone who works under you that you want to fuck them stupid. That you like them. That you love them?

You frown slightly. You don’t think you could handle it if this was the only time you got to be with him like this.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, lifting your chin with his thumb. “You promised you would tell me.”

“Is this… is this a one-time thing, Aaron?” You ask tentatively.

“I don’t want it to be,” he answers quickly. “It’d be a daily occurrence if I had my way.”

With that, he grabs your hips, and looks at you for consent, then slams all the way in when you nod in affirmation. Neither of you can help the moans and groans escaping your mouths at that, you from feeling completely full and him being fully sheathed in you.

“I… I love you,” he says, pressing his sweat-sheened forehead to yours. “You don’t have to say it back. I know how dangerous and inappropriate and difficult this situation is never mind adding emotions to it. And I… I’m not good at them in the first place. I just… I just need you to know that. I want to be with you. All the time.”

“Again, Aaron, why did you never… fuck,” you trail off as he starts moving his hips, setting a slow and languid pace.

“I don’t know. I was afraid,” he chuckles.

“Of me?”

“You’re intimidating. You’re beautiful, smart, and capable. To tell you I wanted you…”

“You’re calling me intimidating?” you ask. “You? Of all people?”

“I’ve seen you interrogate. Baby-faced assassin, hm? You’ve shaken some grown men in their boots.”

“Including you?”

“Including me,” he chuckles, then softens. “Seeing you cry like that today… I… it broke my heart, honey. I never thought I’d see you break. I’d do anything to make you never feel like that again. You need to stay.”

“I already promised you, Aaron,” you say, biting your lip as he somehow angles his cock deeper in you. “I love you.”

Kissing you fiercely, he squeezes your hips, and you can’t wait to see if there’ll be bruises there tomorrow in the shape of his fingertips. “God, you’re fucking squeezing my cock, honey,” he grunts, and you feel yourself clench more at his words. You’ve never heard him swear. Ever. “I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that.”

“I’m surprised you lasted this long, old man,” you tease.

“You’d be surprised how much stamina I do have,” he threatens, rolling his eyes at you. “You’ll see tonight when I have more time with you.”

“How presumptuous.”

He scoffs, doesn’t say anything, but starts running over your clit with his thumb, kissing you deeply, fucking you faster and harder, setting a much more brutal pace.

“You just need me that bad, Aaron?” you ask, hellbent on seeing him break. “You need to fuck me all the time now that you’ve had me?”

“Yes,” he pants. “Need you all the time. Every day. Need to fuck this pretty cunt. Make you know you’re appreciated. Valued. Loved. Never want to hear you talk about yourself like that ever again. Not…I’ll worship you. Kiss the ground you walk on. Fuck you until you can’t stand. Whatever it takes.”

“What about you, Aaron? How do you feel right now?”

“So fucking good,” he groans. “So fucking good. Such a good girl. You keep sucking my cock back in every thrust, you feel that, honey? So wet, so warm, fuck, I’d stay inside you forever.”

“Yeah, Aaron? Hmm? I—“ your teasing backfired on you, and before you can think of anything else to say, you come on his cock, your nails dragging down his back stalling his motions to stutters and he’s asking you, begging you, “Please let me cum inside you,” he begs. “Please, honey.”

You nod breathlessly, unable to speak, and you don’t think he’d be able to make it out of you in time completely if you’d said no because you feel his seed fill you as you’re still riding out the aftershocks of your own orgasm and he’s moaning your name in choked sobs and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever fucking seen or heard.

“I love you,” he whispers, dark eyes looking up at you from where his face now rested in the swell of your breasts. “I love you. And we’re going to make this work come hell or high water.”

“I love you,” you say back once you catch your breath. “Are you still sending me home?”

He laughs. “You look and smell like sex.”

“Do you think you look or smell any different? You did this to me,” you say, messing up his sweat-streaked hair more with your fingers. “I think your boss should send you home, too.”

“Hm. Perhaps I could convince him,” he says, giving you a wide smile.

He helps you get dressed, kissing you wherever he can reach in between and it takes much longer than it would have had you dressed yourself. You’re not complaining. But there’s no fixing your hair or your tattered tights. No fixing Aaron’s disheveled hair, either, or the sweat stains around his armpits from when you teased him for so long.

“Follow me home, honey,” he instructs. “Round two.”

Maybe you should have mental breakdowns at work more often.

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Chicken

John Egan X Farmer! Reader

Summary: When Meatball kills the farmer's chicken. Bucky flies to the rescue.

Warning: Animal death/ swearing/ mention of boobs/ use of Y/n/ mention of blood.

Word count: 1.2k

A/n: I'm alive y'all! And my brain functioned again!

When John Egan came to Thorpe Abbotts, he was aware of the people that already lived there. He knew they were here, but he didn’t know them personally. When he saw her riding her horse, he knew he had to introduce himself. But he didn’t have the courage to go talk to her, she looked so intimidating, riding her horse and handling the goats.

Y/n lived on her family’s farm, but her family was away, they were in Austria, the farm was their summer house, but they wanted Y/n to keep it clean and work there. Usually, she would’ve been back in Austria, but with the war, it wasn’t safe to travel. Her chores were simple, making sure the goats didn’t run away, getting the eggs from the chicken coop and keeping the stables clean. It was easy, especially since she got her horse, Fred. He was a mustang, a beast that she had trouble training, but she kept persevering and was able to ride him. She was riding Fred everywhere; she loved her horse.

‘’Cleven! Good morning’’ she greeted the blonde. They quickly became friends when he came on the base, he went to introduce himself to the people living on the base, already saying he was sorry for the future disturbance that the soldiers were going to cause. When Gale saw Y/n, he thought she was amazing and they talked for hours, quickly becoming friends. They would trade stuff together, for example, if Y/n wanted a bottle of whiskey, she would give Gale a dozen eggs. ‘’Morning Y/n! How are you?’’ he asked. ‘’Good, just counting the chickens’’ she stopped when she heard a dog barking. ‘’Why do you have a dog here?’’ she asked, stepping in front of the chickens. ‘’Brady got him, I’ll make sure he doesn’t come near the coop’’ he reassured her. ‘’He better, because if he eats any of my chickens…’’ she threatened. Meatball came running towards Buck. ‘’He’s cute, but I meant what I said’’ she looked at the dog, smiling. ‘’I’ll make sure of it’’ he smiled.

John Egan heard a horse neigh; he knew that Y/n was close. And he was right, her (Y/h/c) hair were flying in the wind, she had a cowboy hat on her head. A white tank top that made her boobs look 5 times bigger and jeans that made her legs look amazing. She was beautiful. ‘’Y/n, what’s wrong?’’ Gale asked. She got down her horse, patting him before looking at the boys. ‘’I can’t come here and say hello?’’ she smiled as she looked at Bucky. ‘’Technically, you’re on a private property’’ Murph said. She scoffed. ‘’Technically, you guys invaded our property’’ she replied. ‘’Touché’’ Murph laughed. ‘’Nice ride’’ John Egan said, looking at the horse. ‘’Thanks, that’s Fred.’’ She replied. ‘’Um, do you guys have a minute to spare? We need help moving the hay’’ she asked. ‘’Sure, we can help’’ Bucky quickly replied.

‘’Be careful with that Jeep, don’t run over my animals’’ she smiled at Bucky, before she climbed up her horse. ‘’Wanna race?’’ Bucky proposed. She gave him a challenging smile, Fred was a fast horse, he was originally supposed to be a racehorse, but Y/n bought him at the town auction. ‘’Sure, but don’t cry if you lose’’ she smiled. When Fred started to run, Bucky knew he’d already lost, he didn’t want to go too fast, in case of a loose animal. She looked like a goddess, riding that horse. He thought about her riding him for a second, but his thoughts quickly faded when he heard Meatball bark, his mouth was all bloody and he had feathers on him.

‘’Calm down! It’s only 3 chickens!’’ Gale Cleven tried to calm her down, but she was ready to skin the dog alive, Bucky was holding her so she wouldn’t kill the dog. ‘’IT’S LESS EGGS! LET ME GO! I’m going to kill that dog’’ she tried to get away, but Bucky’s grip was too hard on her waist. Meatball didn’t have any regret; he was looking around like his life wasn’t on the line. John Brady, the owner, arrived at the scene in a Jeep, with Harry Crosby and Rosie Rosenthal. The 3 bodies were lying on the ground, headless. Y/n took deep breaths and calmed down a little. ‘’What’s going on?’’ Brady asked. ‘’You’re the owner?’’ she asked, angrily. Brady nodded. ‘’Your stupid dog ate 3 of my chickens!’’ she spat, showing the corpse with her hand. Brady swallowed a nervous laugh. ‘’I told you to watch him and I’m leaving the farm for an hour, I come back, and Dave, Danny and Darrel are dead!’’ she said, looking at her chickens. Bucky had to refrain a laugh at the names of the deceased animals. ‘’I’m sorry miss, I don’t know what else to say’’ Brady explained, scratching the back of his head. She took a deep breath, realizing how crazy she looked. She touched Bucky’s hand, to show him that he could let go. She replaced her hair as she sighed. ‘’I’m sorry, I kinda overreacted. You guys can go, I’ll, uh, clean up. Sorry for the disturbance.’’ She said, with an embarrassed tone.

He felt bad for her, sure it was only 3 chickens, but still. So, that night, he decided to find the courage and go talk to her for more than four words. He rode his Jeep to her house; he nervously taped the wheel with his thumb as he shut the engine down. Seeing lights outside, Y/n got out of the house, standing on her porch, seeing it was a soldier, she wiped her hands on her pants before going down the short stairs. ‘’Major Egan, to what do I owe this visit?’’ she asked, trying to hide her joy. She found him attractive, he was a gentleman during the day and a manwhore during the night, or at least that was his reputation. ‘’Hello, please call me Bucky, and I’m here to pay you back’’ he smiled. She tilted her head. ‘’Pay me back? You owe me money?’’ she questioned. He shook his head, chuckling. ‘’No, it’s for the deceased chickens’’ he explained.

Y/n fought the urge to smirk. ‘’You want to pay me for the chickens I lost?’’ she asked. ‘’Yeah, I mean you said it yourself, it’s less eggs’’ he blurted out. Now she couldn’t fight it anymore, a smile creeped on her face as she looked at the flustered Bucky. ‘’Come inside’’ she invited. He nodded as they waled inside the small home. The smell of burnt candle filling his nose as he looked around the kitchen. ‘’Does Brady know you’re doing this?’’ she asked as they sat in the kitchen. ‘’No, it’s my idea’’ he looked on the ground, not daring to look at her in the eyes. ‘’That’s very sweet, Bucky, but I can’t accept this, you must have family that this money belongs too, what about Mrs. Egan. It’s very thoughtful but keep it’’ she politely said. He started to laugh at the mention of a Mrs. Egan. ‘’There’s no Mrs. Egan, never set that part right, and my family doesn’t need the money. Please, Y/n, take it’’ this time, their eyes were locked into each other.

‘’You know, I didn’t think you would be the one offering me money. I thought Cleven would do it’’ she said, taking a sip of her homemade alcohol. It’s been an hour since Bucky came into her home they’ve been talking ever since. ‘’He felt bad, but he has to keep it for the phones, his girlfriend wants to hear from him twice a week’’ he chucked. She smiled as she looked at him. ‘’It’s getting late, I should get back to the base’’ he said as he looked at his watch. She got an idea. ‘’Are you free for dinner tomorrow?’’ she blurted out. He looked at her, smiling. ‘’Uh, yes, why?’’ he asked. ‘’Because I enjoy your company. And I have some extra money to buy good meat.’’ She smiled. ‘’Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.’’ He leaned to kiss the top of her hand. ‘’Good night, Y/n’’ he said. ‘’Good night, Bucky, see you tomorrow’’

[ilovejohnnieguilbertsblog]

comfort-m.sturniolo

idk why i’m making so many matt fics recently i just have good ideas for him😭

friend to bf!matt x friend to gf!reader

warnings: mentions of sh, mentions of su!c!de, fluff, cursing, comforting matt, depressed reader, HAPPY ENDING!!

summary: your bf abuses you and matt is there to help

COULD BE TRIGGERING!

i hope you enjoy!!

you sit on the couch, for what could possibly be your last time ever doing so. you were planning on breaking up with your boyfriend.

for most people, it would be an unexpected tragedy, but for you, it was an overly anticipated event. he had put you through hell, and always somehow found a way to reel you back in, just for long enough until he found a way to fuck it up again.

he used you basically as a sex toy and a status symbol. it took a toll on your mental health as well. before you two got into a relationship, you were anxious and depressed, and being with him only made it 10 times worse.

you snap out of your trance, hearing the door open.

“y/n, i’m home.”

he came back to the house, clearly intoxicated.

“jack, there’s something i’ve been wanting to say.”

“what is it now?”

“i’m not happy in our relationship. it feels like i’m the only one who cares. you make me miserable. my mental health is comparable to dog shit when i’m with you”

you realize you over shared some of your personal thoughts to him, because the next thing you know you feel a warm, powerful hand aggressively swipe across your cheek.

a sharp sting takes over your ability to function, so all you can do is see the vein angrily popping out of your drunken ex’s forehead.

“whatever y/n, if you hate me so much, then get out! go back to your house or whatever. does it look like i give a fuck?”

“fine then, i’ll go.”

“good! i’m glad your leaving. i hate everything about you. you’re always so sad or scared, your so damn unloveable! nobody is ever gonna love you if you keep acting like this.”

you stand there, frozen in time. you can’t talk, breathe, cry or anything. you just walk out to your car and start the 16 minute drive back to your neighborhood.

“sad. scared. unloveable. nobody will ever love me.”

your mind recites those lines in your head, when suddenly you realize the tears came.

they came hard.

thankfully, you pull up to your driveway, your cheeks burning wet with salty tears.

you feel your phone vibrating, knowing it’s either jack trying to makeshift apologize or your best friend matt asking to call.

but you just want to be alone.

you sit on the bed, in the silence of your home.

sad.

scared.

unloveable.

sad.

scared.

unloveable!

these kept looping in your mind, unable to escape. you start to cry again, frantically looking around your room for anything that could dull the pain of your mind.

you see a pack of facial razors you had gotten from target earlier.

you didn’t want to resort to this, but you felt like you had no choice. you took a razor out, feeling the delicious sting of pain hitting your wrist.

then another.

then another.

and then you realized you were halfway up your arm, and a person was standing in your room.

it was matt.

“y/n?” he says, careful not to overstep his boundaries.

“i’m sorry matt, i really am.” you burst out in tears again as he wraps you in his arms. you can see blood now on his shirt, and you feel the sting of your salty tears hitting your cuts.

you them remember the promise you made to matt last year, about neither one of you harming yourselves again.

“i’m sorry about the promise, i just fucked everything up, matt.”

“shh, it’s okay, y/n. i was just worried why you weren’t answering, so i came over.”

“jack slapped me. this was the worst it’s ever gotten. he told me i was always sad and scared, and that i was unloveable and-“

you start to hyperventilate, a familiar tightening begins to form in your throat and chest as well.

“y/n, your safe now. just breathe.” matt says.

he always new how to get you to feel better because he suffered with similar things you did. he was the only person you really felt safe with.

“he told me i was unloveable matt. i mean, i guess he’s not that wrong, i can be a lot to handle sometimes.” you half attempt a laugh, which barely comes out as a sniffle.

“that’s not true y/n.”

“well you have to say that, your my best friend.”

“i love you.”

you look at the blue twinkle in his eyes, and he looks back at you.

“really matt?”

“yes, really.”

matt kisses you softly, his lips comforting you more than anything in the world. he then kisses each of your cuts, careful not to hurt you.

“this isn’t moving too fast, is it?” he asks.

“no, of course not.” you reply.

you two spend the rest of the night watching movies, laughing and kissing, as well as blocking jack of every platform available.

“i love you matt.”

“i love you more y/n.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

2.5 years later

“oh my gosh chris, shut up, it’s a random throw. i can’t control who catches it!”

“but you said i could catch the flowers!” he replies.

it’s you and matt’s wedding day, and it still feels so surreal. never did you think you would go from toxic family and boyfriend issues to having a great group of people to surround yourself with.

nick was walking you down the aisle, and you were so happy about it. mary lou was your maid of honor, and madi and your 2 sisters were your bridesmaids.

“chris, go away! your about to have to go out there!”

“fine, just save me a flower.” he giggles.

after all of the wedding party walks out, you and nick walk done the velvet carpet. matt can’t contain his bubbly smile, and neither can you.

tears of joy rim his eyes as he watches you walk down in your flowy satin dress.

after what feels like an eternity of basic wedding ordeals, it’s now time for vows. you and matt wrote your own vows, so it’s even more nerve wracking.

“mr. sturniolo, you can go first.” the priest says.

“y/n, you have been one of the biggest sources of happiness in my life. i remember every single time i saw you, my mood would instantly improve greatly. i would always think to myself, i want to marry someone like her, and i’m doing even better and i actually get to marry you. you’ve been there for me in my highs and my lows, and i can never thank you enough. i love you so much and i am so honored to be your husband.”

a brief moment passes, everyone oohs and aahs, but you’re too busy staring into matt’s eyes to notice.

“and now, future ms. sturniolo, please share your vows.”

“matt, you are my lifesaver. i remember when you came to my house, seeing me do awful things to myself. i thought i would never recover, and i thought you would hate me forever. but you were one of the only people that actually helped me in those times, and i can’t put into words how grateful i am for you. i love you so much matt, and im so happy i don’t get to just marry my lover, but my best friend as well.”

matt wipes his eyes quickly as you do the same, not being able to control the smile growing on your face.

“i now pronounce you husband and wife! you may kiss the bride.”

matt kisses you passionately and lovingly, and even though you can see the bright camera flashes through your eyelids, you don’t care. you only care about matt.

you remember when you thought you were unloveable, and now here you are. happily married with the person you love the most.

this is your happy ending.

I HOPE YOU LIKED! ALSO HAPPY 7 MILLION TO THE TRIPLETS ILYSMM!!!

[peterman-spideyparker]

Halo (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Howdy, folks! In my slow sift through and re-editing process of fics on my laptop and in my notebooks, I've re-come across this fic. It's probably been written for, what, a year and a half? Two years? and I've waffled on it because I didn't know if I should post it. It's a continuation of Angel, but if you've read it and want to stay sitting in the angst, you can. It's still angst, but, it might make you feel better? Idk. I cried writing it and then every time I've re-read it, and I think id I tried to write more, I'd be a vicious cycle of tears. Not my best editing, but. Enjoy!

Summary: Matt is grieving your loss hard even months after your death. It's like a non-stop film reel in his mind. He's wracked with despair, and ready to submit when his angel comes to his rescue.

Warnings: ANGST (dead dove, do not eat), talk of death, wounds (stab wound, gunshot wound, blood--canon typical violence), a lot of crying, hurt comfort?, Matt has a lot of self hatred in this from guilt

Other Characters: Father Lantom, Foggy Nelson

Word Count: 1,635

Everything is too loud and too quiet at once. It’s been like that for the last couple of months since you died. His surroundings have been simultaneously amplified and dampened. He doesn’t know how to function. He hasn’t been able to figure out what life means without you. He doesn't feel as if he's living anymore.

Matt can feel when Father Lantom sits down next to him. He's been coming to church more often, as if his desperate prayers will change the past and bring you back to him. He can feel every last bit of the polyblend fibers in Father Lantom's black clothes, but it just feels like static to him. An indistinct haze. But even for as hazy as it is, for as much sensation as it is, it just makes Matt feel more numb. He tunes out Father Lantom’s words, and only when he feels his hand on his back does Matt actually pay attention to what his priest is saying.

“I was playing pool with a man once—a unique fellow with an insightful mind,” the priest starts with a breath. “He imparted words to me that were so incredibly wise it made a priest speechless. It was a simple question: ‘What is grief, if not love preserving?' As I let that sink in, he continued. He said that all those feelings—the anger, the sadness, even the hollowness, everything that brings a person to tears—that is all the unspoken love that you still have for someone. It’s a good thing, Matthew. Love . . . Love isn’t something you switch on and off like a lamp. It’s shouldn’t be—if it is, it isn’t love.”

Matt sits in the pew, his heart heavy, hurting, and crumbling.

“I keep thinking I’m going to find her at home,” Matt finally sniffles, his voice trembling. “I keep hoping that this is a nightmare and I’m going to wake up and we’ll be in bed and she’ll hold me the way she does after I have a bad dream. That she’ll make every bad thing I’m feeling go away.”

Father Lantom puts a careful hand in Matt’s back, and it’s enough to have him break down. 

“I miss her so much,” Matt weeps in the empty church. “I-I can’t—I don’t know what to do.”

“Matthew . . .”

“She died in my arms,” he sobs. “I couldn’t—I should’ve—I need her. I’m lost without her.”

Father Lantom knows there’s nothing more to say as Matt lets his grief take center stage, feeling the pain course over him in violent wave after violent wave rather than pushing it down. 

This is it, he thinks. This is where he dies, on some random rooftop.

And you know what? He couldn’t care less. Being a lawyer, fighting this fight, day and night, it’s pointless. How can he try helping others when he couldn’t help the person he cared about most? When she, dying in his arms, was comforting him? This is what he deserves—it’s better than what he deserves, he thinks. This is a relatively clean death—a little bullet hole in his flesh. You were all but sliced in two. He deserves to be torn to bits for what he let happen to you . . . He deserves so much worse. But, as he lays there, bleeding out, all he can thing about is how he never deserved you. How you would have been so much better off without him.

How you’d be alive had the two of you never met.

“Matty?” he hears a gentle voice say. “Matty, I’m gonna help you sit up.”

No . . . This isn’t happening. The voice, he knows it. He thought he’d never hear it again. 

(Y/N). 

“God, you’re heavy,” you grunt as you help him sit upright, a careful, warm hand over where he was shot as the other is firm on his back. 

“Wha—Huh?” he starts to groan, panic quickly starting to bubble. 

“Matt, calm down, it’s okay,” you urge. “I’m here, angel, don’t worry. You’re okay.”

He sputters your name in disbelief. “Is that really you?”

He feels how your fingers run through his hair and down to a loving grip on his forearm. 

“Hey, Matty.”

“Sweetheart, wha—?”

“Matt, I know it’s a lot. I know. But it’s okay. I’m right here.”

“H-How?” he asks with tears in his eyes. “How?”

He listens to you let out a sigh, how your brows furrow, trying to find the best answer to his question. “Divine intervention?”

“Y-You died, (Y/N).” He smells the salt of your tears in the air. “You died in my arms. Why didn’t you hold on?” 

“I tried,” you tell him. “I wanted to. You were so scared Matt. God, I—.” You sniffle and bite your lip, a tear rolling down your cheek. “I would give anything to forget the pain on your face, Matty. But then I wouldn’t have been able to see my favorite person.” You wipe the tears away from his cheeks. “Matty, I’m not gone. I’m with you always, you know that, right?”

“I couldn’t save you.”

“You saved the city and the world from a frightening reality. You’ve done it so many times, angel.”

“That doesn’t change what I failed to do.”

“Forever the Catholic—full of guilt.” You cup his cheek with your hand. “Matty, look at me. You are the best thing in the world that ever happened to me, you understand that? You made me feel so loved, so cherished, so safe, and so valued. I never felt more myself than being with you. Everything that you made me feel . . . Matt, that’s love. That’s what love is, what it does, and what it feels like. And I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer to have you realize that and feel the same.”

“I did, sweetheart, I felt it.” 

“Then you need to remember that feeling and let it guide you. I want you to be happy, Matt. I don’t want you to be sad forever. I can’t have that.”

“I miss you so much. I don’t think that’s ever going to stop.”

“It’s only a beautiful thing. It’s all the unexpressed love. We never get enough time with each other, Matt. But the best part of it is, Matt? We’re going to see each other again. It’s gonna be a while, but when we do?” Matt can taste the salt in your tears. “Be there as much as possible for one another, Matt. Okay? Don’t shut people out, don’t push them away because you want to protect them or because you don’t feel like you deserve happiness, because you will mourn that time you lost. Open up your heart again. It’s one of the most beautiful things you can share.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” he cries as he holds onto you. “I don’t want to go back.”

“You know you don’t mean that.”

“I can’t . . . I miss waking up next to you. It keeps getting harder. It’s all crushing in on me.” He sniffles. “The apartment is loosing your smell.”

Tears roll down your cheeks at his distress. “Matt . . .”  you soothe. “I miss you more than I can say. There are absolutely no words in any language to tell you how much my heart hurts that I’m not physically with you every day.”

“Then let me stay. Don’t make me go back. Please let me stay here with you.”

“I can’t make that decision. If . . . Matty, I know you know that you’re not finished on Earth.”

“Angel . . .”

“Matty?” you say softly. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

Tears stream down his face as he looks at you, his pupils locking onto yours for the first time. His hand carefully cups your cheek, afraid to touch you—like you’ll disappear. He gently touches your hair next, tucking it behind your ear before his thumb traces over your nose and cheek, finally brushing against your lips.

“(Y/N)?” he croaks.

“Hi, Matty.”

Holding your face in his hands, he leans in for the kiss of a lifetime, pouring every ounce of love he has into in.

“H-How . . .? I don't . . . You’re more beautiful than I could have ever imagined,” he sniffles as he moves to rest his forehead against mine. “God . . . You’re just . . . You’re here. You’re perfect.”

“Those are some super senses, huh?” you joke with a wet chuckle as you rest your foreheads on one another.

“I love you so much, (Y/N). I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

“Pull through for me, Matt,” you plea. “You’re not done yet, my angel. I know you’re not.”

“You’re gonna be with me, huh?”

“Forever and always, every step of the way. And hey—I better not see you again until it’s your time. Actually your time.”

“Promise,” he says with a soft smile, holding your face in his hands as he looks at you with tears in his eyes, desperately trying to memorize every last detail in your face.

“Love you, angel.”

“Love you more.”

He feels the burning, piercing pain in his ribs before anything else. Then, it’s the dried blood on his skin. Foggy’s muttering to himself in the kitchen about how he needs to find better friends that don’t dress up and prance around at night in ways that bring them two steps away from death.

When Matt’s eyes flutter open into a darkness he’s become accustomed to, tears begin to sting at his eyes as a fresh, strong whiff of your scent hits his nose in his apartment as if you’re walking by him like you’d done so many times before.

Forever and always.

While it hurts, Matt knows from that point on things will start to get a little easier. You're here with him, after all.

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger​ @steampowerednightvaler​ @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles​ @toozmanykids​ @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop​ @itwasthereaminuteago​ @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore​​ @dpaccione​ @catnip987​ @blackhawkfanatic

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[myteavsricochet]

Favorite firstprince fanfics, another incomplete list:

(Part 1)

Come Let Me Love You

Henry always struggled to have a good night's sleep. Alex made it easier over the years they had been together, but little cries in the middle of the night always woke Henry.

A little glimpse into a future where Alex and Henry are doting fathers to a beautiful little girl.

Obliviously Devoted

She looks at him in the way only June can. She's the only one he'll allow it from without a fight. "I don't know if you're ready to have this conversation or not."

His fork clatters to the plate in front of him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

June sighs a sigh of long-suffering and pinches the bridge of her nose, before she looks him dead in the eye and sets his world upside down. "You know you and Henry are dating, right?"

Alex gapes at her. Mouth hung open, eyes blown wide. "W-what?"

"I say this with all the love in the world," she says. "But sometimes, I swear, you are the most oblivious idiot on the face of the planet."

Tags: idiots in love, oblivious acd, best friends to lovers, alternate universe - roommates/housemates

(even though you want to) please try to never grow up

“You better have a good fucking reason for sending me to voicemail, Hen.” He glares at the phone for one second before he actually sees the screen, and then his face melts into something Henry can only describe as fond. “Oh,” he whispers, dropping his mug of coffee onto the counter so he can lean in closer to the phone. “Look who’s there.”

“Yeah.” Henry keeps his voice so low he isn’t even sure Alex can hear him. He doesn’t seem to mind, eyes taking in the picture in front of him with parted lips, the edge of his finger covering the camera when he undoubtedly reaches to caress his daughter’s head.

Or, Alex misses his daughter when he goes back to work after a long paternity leave.

tags: domestic, tooth-rotting fluff, family fic

Let Me Wash Away Your Worries

Alex has had a terrible week. Henry is right there to take care of him.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Bath Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Romantic Fluff, Praise Kink, Alex Claremont-Diaz Needs a Hug, Worship

ephemeral enchantments

in which Henry is an overworked barista with a tendency to embarrass himself in front of everything that breaths and Alex is charmed from the first time he met him.

Tags: Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Awkward Flirting

Three fights Alex and Henry never had

Yes, Alex and Henry got their Happily Ever After. But that doesn't mean everything was just automatically perfect when they moved in together...

Tags: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff

am i homophobic? (URGENT) (PLEASE HELP)

Now, it might be pretty early in the morning and Alex’s brain functions might not be working as quickly as they normally do, but he can still put two and two together. There's a strange man in their kitchen. Henry is shirtless, rumpled, and holding two pairs of boxers. Henry and this Sam guy slept together. Which… obviously is fine because Alex is not an asshole, but he’s definitely feeling something about this development that he will examine at a later date. But of course, instead of saying something normal, you know, like a normal person would, he says, “Ohh.” Like a fucking weirdo.

or: the "am i homophobic?" roommate au that no one asked for

Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Sexuality Crisis, Mentions of homophobia, no one is like actually homophobic though, Idiots in Love, Explicit Sexual Content, Unsafe Sex

The shape of your lips bruising my heart

So, that neck-kissing scene in the bloopers? Yeah, that one. Well. I wrote it.

—

In which Alex has a hard time leaving the hotel after their night in Paris.

you’re leaving (now i’m left amongst the living)

Six years since they've been together, Alex and Henry were now a far cry from the lovestruck couple they once were when their history began. If you ask Alex, all of it was Henry’s fault. If you ask Henry, he’d agree and say that Alex was right.

But before Alex could ever find out why Henry does not seem like the man he once decided to spend the rest of his life with, he already walked away from it all. Now, Henry was alone, left to deal with whatever shattered remains he could salvage from his life.

Or, the one where Henry’s sick and Alex only finds out two years after they've broken up.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Lawyer Alex, Writer Henry, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hospitalization

Fifty First Dates

Henry has used a dating app exactly one time. Predictably, the date turns out to be terrible. The bartender, however, is not.

OR

A cute stranger’s solution to Henry’s woeful dating life is to set him up on fifty first dates.

Most People Exist

Henry Fox is a nurse at the New York Cancer Center. He’s happy with his job, content enough with his life, but it all gets turned on its head when he connects with a patient with a brain tumor—Alex Claremont-Diaz.

———

Henry is a nurse, Alex is a patient.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Cancer, Nurses & Nursing, Minor Character Death, Falling In Love, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, They will end up happy I pinky swear

i want your dreary mondays

“You little menace,” a voice says from the door, entirely too fond to be anything mean. “I told you to wait by the car, not go inside.” The man steps inside, shaking the rain from his hair, and Henry is treated to the sight of the most beautiful man he’s seen in his entire life, standing in the middle of his shop with clothes dripping to the floor and raincoat bundled up around him. He notices then the umbrella clutched in the little boy’s hand, the innocent wide eyes watching his father, and the picture forms in his head.

Or, five times Henry makes a piece of art for Alex's son on his drinks, and one time he does it for Alex himself.

It's Nice to Have a Friend

Two boys meet on a beach, build a sand castle, write letters, and fall in love.

Tags: Alternative Universe - Childhood friends, Friends to lovers, Slow Burn, Growing up together

Leave A Message

"This is Alex Claremont-Diaz's phone. If it's a business matter, I don't know how you got ahold of this number, but if you have my number that means you probably have Zahra's. Call her instead. If you're friends or family, just text me. If you're anyone else, I'll call you back as soon as I can."

Or: Alex's voicemail message over the years, and the messages people leave for him.

I must tell you what you will not ask

Henry's lower lip wobbles, and a fresh tear rolls down his cheek. Alex watches it track down to his chin, and wonders if Henry would mind him wiping it away. “I really was looking forward to seeing them.”

Another tear escapes, and this time Alex can't help but lean forward and brush it away with his thumb. Henry's breath catches, and he looks at Alex, wearing an expression he can't quite parse. “Come home with me,” Alex blurts out.

Henry's plans for Christmas fall through, so Alex invites him home for the holidays. They're best friends, strictly platonic roommates, so why does everyone think they're dating?

drive-thru mornings

“Would you like to pay cash or by card, sir?”

Alex startles, but recovers quickly and smiles charmingly at the girl in the window. Maggie, her tag reads. “By card, darlin’,” he says. “Actually, could I pay for the man behind me, as well? I have no idea what he ordered, but he’s strikingly handsome, isn’t he?”

Tags: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in love

you turned a moment (into forever)

Sharing an apartment with Alex had seemed like a good idea at first. They’re best friends, prices in Brooklyn are absurd, and they had both been in urgent need of residence – it only made sense.

Except for the small, tiny, teeny, barely there fact that Henry has been in love with Alex from the first moment he laid eyes on him. And the fact that Alex doesn’t know, and can never find out.

—

Or, as coffeecatsme so eloquently put it: Roommates AU where Alex has insomnia and slips into Henry’s bed every night because it’s the only way he gets a good night’s sleep.

You Can Hear It In The Silence

At the Lake House, Henry doesn’t run when Alex tells him he loves him. But he can’t say it back; too afraid of the consequences it would have, no matter how true it is. But as the truth settles in, Henry decides Alex is worth fighting for. So he does.

A Long Way From the Playground

Henry and Alex were best friends growing up until they went to separate colleges and they grew apart. When they see each other again as adults, against the odds, both living in the same city again, will it be a joyful reunion or will the pain of the years apart get in the way? How do you become friends again when there is so much of the past in the way?

Oblivion

The man starts to cock the hammer of gun, and Alex squeezes his eyes shut, his lower lip trembling almost imperceptibly.

“Stop!” Henry shouts, his voice cracking. “I’ll give you whatever you want, I’ll do anything…just please, don’t hurt him.”

Alex’s eyes fly open, shooting Henry the same incredulous look that he gave him in the hallway, and Henry knows he’s shown too much of his hand, revealed a part of himself that he’d sworn he would take to his grave, but he’s too full of fear and desperation to feel self-conscious about it now. He can deal with the consequences when they get out of this.

If they get out of this.

******

What if the moment in the hospital wasn’t a false alarm and the publicity surrounding the forced bromance between Alex and Henry had the adverse effect of them being kidnapped together?

Confidential Memorandum

"Hello, Mr. Fox-Mountchristen's office. How may I help you?"

"Hello, can I speak to Mr. Fox-Mount-krishen, please?"

Alex blinked. After two weeks of hearing nothing but the voices of snooty men and frazzled secretaries calling in, the person on the other line now sounded decidedly neither snooty nor male nor in any way adult.

It was a little girl.

"Mr. Fox-Mountchristen's unfortunately in a meeting right now,” Alex began slowly, “but I could take a message?"

"Oh." The girl paused. "You're not Mr. Hunter."

Alex starts a new job as Henry's new assistant. Henry's daughter keeps calling the office and leaving him messages.

we thought we ruled the world

Alex stares down at his latest text from Henry. A link to an article he’s seen about ten versions of so far. He’s managed to resist clicking on any of them, but now Henry is sending it, so he supposes he should at least give it a skim.

How Prince Henry’s Relationship With FSOTUS Lost Ellen Claremont The Election

............

Or, what would have happened if Ellen lost.

Run, Don't Walk

Henry loves sex. He loved sex even before he was with Alex, although there's something to be said for the level of precision and intimacy acquired through years of learning each other's bodies. He's liked being filled from the first time he ever experienced the feeling, and he doesn't think he'll ever love anything quite as much as he loves getting fucked.

But this? This is giving him pause for thought.

Tags: Porn without plot, Marathon sex, Henry loves sex, and Alex, and sex with Alex

london bridge has fallen down

Alex can feel the eyes of the room on him as Shaan approaches his side. Then, Shaan quietly murmurs in his ear. They’re words he’s thought about before, distantly wondering about what might happen when they were finally uttered. How their lives might change. There’s nothing that can prepare him for the reality of it though, nothing that can prepare him for how his breath hitches when Shaan speaks.

‘London Bridge is down, Sir.’ 

---

Queen Mary is dead. Henry doesn't know how to feel.

Screw Your Courage to the Sticking Place (and forget macbeth is a fucking tragedy)

"You don't owe me anything."

"Of course I do. If you have time now...there are things I'd like to say."

Alex hesitates.

"I know I don't have any right to ask you to listen," Henry adds. He sounds so hopeful though.

A little closure doesn't sound like a terrible thing. Agreeing to go with Henry, alone, to Kensington Palace sounds like returning to the scene of a crime.

It's been over a decade since their breakup - Alex is now a single dad forging his career as a lawyer, and Henry's finally getting the courage to stand up to his grandmother. In finding themselves, can they also find their way back to each other?

[taekookielove0130]

Slowly, Unintentionally.

Part 3 Pairing: Idol!Min Yoongi x Nerd!Reader

Summary:

          Y/N and Yoongi are two individuals in completely different worlds who collide due to an arranged marriage. What happens when there’s somebody else living with them too?

⚠️ Warnings: Smut, fluff, angst, heartbreak, and crying. Tissues are highly recommended!

Part 1 :

Part 2:

One week later...

 Y/N's POV

It’s been a week since a beautiful angel stepped into our lives and we’ve already grown so close. I can say I truly love Ae-cha with all my heart. We spend so much time together. She helps me out in the kitchen (even though it just means she’s going to rummage through the cupboards and find a good snack) and even slips into my bed late at night. She’s sneaky and cute and just downright lovely to me. Despite the way Yoongi despises me with every fibre of his being, I can say that he’s at least able to tolerate my presence now. Barely, but still.

I’m broken out of my thoughts as I feel a pair of small hands sneak around my waist.

“Oh, you’re back!” I say and turn to look at Ae-cha who beams at me, nodding eagerly. Today, I took a leave from my office just to make sure I was there for Ae-cha as she came back from her first guitar lesson. I hoped I'd be at least a little helpful for her and was definitely not disappointed as my little girl came back home and immediately sought me out. She starts talking animatedly about how wonderful her teacher had been and how patient he was to make sure she got all the basics right before beginning their lesson.

Knowing that she probably already knew all those basics but still liked appreciating the teacher for her thoughtfulness, I smile at her and then realize there’s another person in the kitchen at the sound of someone clearing their throat. I realize it’s Yoongi by the sound and turn around returning to my work as I know he wants to talk to Ae-cha. Hence, you can see I’m surprised when he softly calls out,

“Y/N.”

Hiding the fact that my heart just skipped a goddamn beat hearing him speak my name in such a soft tone, I slowly turn to face him. He’s standing there. Leaning against the top of the kitchen counter, looking impeccably handsome as ever.

“Can we talk?”

The softly posed question both confuses and scares me to an equal level though I just gulp, trying to wet my suddenly dry throat and manage to muster a believable smile.

“Yeah, sure.” I say and find myself even more confused as he instructs Ae-cha to go to her room and complete her homework. The little girl turns to send a secretive smile at me and runs outside, giggling after I dazedly smile back at her.

Yoongi stays there for a while, watching her go before he directs his attention at me. Being the centre of attention has always made me nervous and anxious but I don’t understand why being the centre of Yoongi’s attention has me feeling happy and powerful. It feels as if l my life I was used to being invisible, made peace with the fact but If Yoongi looks at me, I never want him to look away. He walks towards me and stops at an arm’s distance.

“I spoke to Ae-cha’s guardian yesterday and he told me that adoption would be a good option if we want to keep her with us. Otherwise, according to the law she’ll have to be sent to an orphanage. My legal team has told me that adoption can only be possible if there’s a functioning relationship between the couple. It’s said that the officers are hard to convince unless the pair have and understanding with each other. I know that we haven’t exactly been a proper couple but do you think we can at least try to pretend?

The fact that he wanted to talk to me only because it was about Ae-cha breaks my heart again. Even worse, he’s just giving that to me as a piece of information, not even slightly caring about my opinion. I struggle to gather the broken pieces before I say,

“Yeah, I think we can.”

He doesn’t make my struggle easier when he speaks again,

“Thanks. But you know that I’m only asking you this for Ae-cha, right? It has nothing to do with us.”

I feel tears prick my eyes but I hold on, deciding not to break down in front of him. I offer my best smile to him and nod.

He replies with an,

“Oh good. See you later then.” and walks out.

I run to my room and lock the door before crying my hearts out. Within a few minutes, I hear a soft knock on my door. Groaning, I'm about to tell whoever it is to go away when

"Y/n, Are you in there?" Ae-cha's voice sounds from the other side of the door. Panicking slightly, I sniff a few times, hurriedly running to the restroom and splashing my face with water.

"Yeah, what's up?" I ask, smiling brightly at her after opening the door to my room.

The little girl eyes me up and down suspiciously as if she isn't convinced everything's fine.

"hm, I was going to watch a movie. Wanna join?"

I frown, trying to find out why exactly she's behaving as if she knows everything before shrugging as to say,

"Sure, why not."

Ae-cha settles down on the couch, flipping through the programs to find a good movie while I make some popcorn for us.

After we settle comfortably on the couch and the movie is playing, I space out. Not that I mean to, but the recent events all awaken my overthinking abilities. I had a pretty good day from the morning, what with Ae-cha's guitar lessons and all but once again, Yoongi had to ruin it. But even with how badly he treats me, I cannot bring myself to hate this man. I'm more annoyed than angry actually. If he wanted to go about the adoption process, I'm pretty sure he'll be able to surpass all the legal procedures with his societal standing and popularity. But he was deciding to do it the legal way. And I respect that, truly. But the least he could do for me, was to treat me like an actual human being and consider my feelings about the whole things. At least for the sake of pretending, we had to get to know each other. He just...

As the million wild thoughts race through my mind, I feel a soft warm body slowly move towards me on the couch. Turning, I see e-cha snuggling under my arm, cuddling closer and laying her head on my shoulder. at least, she tries to but with her height, she's only successful at lading on my chest. Laughing softly, I pull her closer, creating a comfortable space for her to lie down on the couch.

Smiling up at me, she leans closer and for a second I'm almost afraid. But then, her soft lips gently graze my cheek and I sit, frozen at what just happened. Then, she gets back to her previous position. Pleasantly surprised, I'm only able to wrap her up in my arms and almost miss it when she whispers softly,

"I'm there for you."

The burn of my eyes and the sudden tightness in my throat are all to familiar but i stubbornly blink them back, only nodding and pressing a kiss to her temple. She looks up at me and we smile at each other.

This wonderful creature, so small. But filled with so much knowledge. I sit there in awe trying to comprehend how she can be so understanding in spite of not understanding!?!?

I finally decide, I can tackle whatever Yoongi throws t me, no matter how hard as long as I have my dear Ae-cha by my side. I love her. And I love him. In different ways. Yet at the same time, soo similar.

_______________________________________________________

That was quite a long break. I apologize for it. But as you can see, I'm back. I'm working on this fic and a small one-shot based on Jimin. SO, stay tuned. Do tell me what you think.

Does Ae-cha KNOW what happened between them? Is Yoongi doing this the legal way just for formality's sake or for something else? Ae-cha is actually and angel, isn't she?

[stardusthuntress]

Somebody to Lean On

Crosshair x reader (she/they pronouns; I think, I’m not very good with she/they, this is practice, please tell me if I messed it up!) 

Word Count: ~1.25k, ~4 pgs 

TW/Summary: reader is depressed/anxious and in need of a shoulder to cry on; no smut, just purely a hurt-comfort fic! 

dividers by: @/saradika

It’s one of those nights when everything just feels off. 

Today was a day just like any other day. You went on missions with the boys, like always, and then you rested, ate dinner round a campfire, and spent a few hours laughing and relaxing before bed. 

But something was just off. 

Like usual, the bad batch treated you like you were just one of the guys. Normally, you liked that. But part of you had hoped that tonight maybe someone would remember you were a woman, and would appreciate that about you, even if it didn’t get any farther than flirting for a few minutes. But none of them had. 

So instead you took some time to yourself and found a quiet rock away from the group to just sit and look at the stars and enjoy the natural world for what it is. 

Someone notices you’re gone, no one is quite sure who, simply that they all find themselves looking around at the realization that you are no longer beside them. 

Tech finds you and wants to talk at you, but he doesn’t take it too hard when you tell him “I’m really not in the mood for a chat right now. Please leave me alone.” 

And he leaves, no questions asked. He’s used to it with his brothers, he doesn’t think too much about it, didn’t even look up from his datapad. 

But once he’s gone you kinda miss the company and regret saying it. 

He returns to the others, nose still scrolling through data. 

Hunter - always a good sergeant - asks where you are. 

Tech quickly fills in, always ready with what information he has. “They said they wanted to be alone.” 

The others know you didn’t really mean that, you’re just having a rough day. They exchange glances, unsure of what they can do for you.  

Hunter opens the conversation, wanting to keep his squad functioning at it’s best, with all its members content. Well, as content as possible, considering this is war… Before they can figure out what to do about it Hunter notices that Crosshair, who was there when the conversation started, has disappeared. He knows that means his brother is looking for you. 

Crosshair traces Tech’s steps back to your hideout.  

You know it’s him approaching. Silent footsteps, as always, no matter how many crunchy leaves you always seem to find with every step. But he makes a point to snap off brittle twigs and spring snappy branches every few feet so you know he’s there and that it’s him. 

Part of you wonders if that’s a habit because he knows Hunter could track it if something happened to him. 

Instinctively and impulsively you prepare to tell him you want space right now. Your voice is shaky when the message is finally delivered. 

He ignores your comment, wordlessly walking over to you, but pauses for a moment a pace away. 

You try to guess what his sarcastically rude comment is going to be this time… When his backpack plops down next to you…And he turns and sits down. 

He faces away, knowing you probably don’t want to feel pressured by an intense stare. But he sits where his hip brushes yours, as he moves to get out his cleaning kit. 

He sits beside you in silence, cleaning his fire puncher for a while. 

Realizing he’s not going anywhere, you eventually start to lean into him a bit. Over the course of a few minutes, it evolves to resting your temple on his shoulder. 

Crosshair sighs and you immediately retreat and mutter a ‘sorry’ under your breath, knowing he doesn’t really like touch. 

But what he does next surprises you… He gets up to adjust, and you automatically retreat into yourself more… Until the shuffling gets closer, and suddenly two knees appear on either side of yours, but he’s careful not to touch you since he hasn’t asked yet. Soon, it’s followed by two arms just above his legs, hands gesturing for you to lean back into him. 

You pause, confused, staring at the hand that gestured to you, brow knitted. 

Crosshair almost never suggested touch nor outwardly comforted anyone. Though, Echo has a few stories from Skako Minor that suggest this isn’t a new thing, simply a very rare one. 

He patiently gestures again. 

You finally look back at him confused. 

He simply looks back, toothpick bobbing, hiding the small smirk in the corner of his lips. Satisfied at your reaction to knowing you are one of the rare recipients of his offer to touch. 

Slowly, he turns you using a soft touch upon your knee. One hand finds your shoulder, the other your calf and he carefully pulls you back into his chest. His touch is so gentle you know if you resisted, even a little, his tugging wouldn’t shift you at all. But you trust him so you let him, even if you’re not sure why you do. 

After a moment of awkwardness you give in to the need for soothing touch and nestle into his shoulder/chest. 

He starts rubbing your shoulder and then your back, slowly, and barely there. 

After a few minutes it’s clear he’s not going anywhere and the intense emotions you were dealing with when he showed up have decided that the coast is clear and they can visit you once again. 

You end up crying into his shoulder. 

He doesn’t say a word, but he also doesn’t go anywhere. He just stays put and holds you. He never asks why. He just sits with you through it all. 

“Thank you” you mumble after a it subsides, drying your tears on your sleeve. 

He just shrugs and continues to pet your hair. 

Your brows furrow. You don’t know why you just cried into his shoulder. But it does feel better now that it’s out. Maybe he deserves an explanation for why you just found yourself bawling into his arms, though? 

But do you even know why? You rack your brain. Surely, there must be a logical explanation for this, right? 

Crosshair, with his knack for reading people like an open book, guesses what you’re worrying about and heads you off. “You don’t have to tell me,” he grumbles. 

You huff a sad laugh, “Thanks… I’m sorry to do that to you though. You shouldn’t have to deal with me when I’m like this.” 

“You’re stronger than you know,” is all he says 

You look up at him, shocked. 

There’s no anger or resentment in his eyes when they meet yours, just a softness that’s so uncharacteristic of the man you thought you knew, but perhaps he’s not as gruff and hardened as you once thought he was. 

You feel the tears welling in your eyes again, a sob getting lodged in your throat, the softness in his eyes something you are unaccustomed to seeing directed at you from anyone, these days.  

“Let it out, doll. I got you.”

And the tears flow, once more. 

When you’re done, still sniffling into his shoulder a bit, he plucks a tiny flower from amidst the grasses and uses it to tuck your hair behind your ear. 

You smile, and look up at him sheepishly. He gives you one of his characteristic half-smiles, and holds you tight, content to just sit there with you for as long as you need. 

The next day, he’s happy to see that familiar spark of your fiery personality rekindling in your eyes when he wakes you for your watch shift with a kiss on your temple… 

Please don’t steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog (don't just like, PLEASE) to share instead of reposting it! And NO dropping it into an AI! That’s stealing my work and feeding it to an AI without my consent. It is not okay to give an AI something you didn’t write yourself! 

[sukiipjs]

✮ BLONDIE : PT 2

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

↳ nick sturniolo x masc reader

↳ words - 1961

↳ summary - you’ve been having a hard time realizing and accepting the fact that you’re gay, and in love with your best friend. you try to ignore the feelings but that only makes everything worse until you can’t hide it anymore.

↳ contains - swearing, use of y/n, angst, crying, verbal fighting, idrk 😭 [READ PT 1 - PT 3]

↳ song - blondie by current joys

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

°:. *₊ ° . ☆

days after and nick hasn’t texted me since. no more random tiktok’s, no more check ins, just complete nothingness now. i don’t blame him of course, i’d do the same if he was being as shitty as me right now. but honestly i miss those texts so so much, even if i rarely responded to him, or more so i miss the texts we had before all this stupid shit started.

but again, i truly don’t even know when it all started, it was so easy to just brush this off these feelings and whatever as a friend thing before and not think of it too much. why can’t it just be a friend thing now?

actually i think ive just accepted it all at this point though. i love him and no it’s not just a friend thing, it’s way more and it always has been way more. sure i might wish it wasn’t, but it is and i know it is and i cant just ignore it.

i’m not even trying to get rid of it anymore, i don’t have the strength for hiding it. honestly i think if i kept trying to get rid of it, it wouldn’t even work. obviously i still won’t tell him, or anyone, unless he pries it out of me. i know he doesn’t feel the same and i doubt he even looks at me as a friend anymore.

☆ °:. *₊ ° . °

i continue repeating my own sad cycle of doing nothing but staying in bed, hiding myself from the world… without nick. i still check up on his socials, being the weird stalker that i am and looking at all the story’s and snapchats he posted of himself, he looks just fine without me, of course.

i lay in bed, staring at my phone to avoid looking at the mess around my room. i scroll and scroll, starting to see a weird amount of videos of people taking care of themselves or videos of people ‘spring cleaning’.

i scroll away, i really don’t need to see people functioning completely fine right now, it’s like their taunting me, laughing at me. but the videos just keep coming back, haunting me, laughing at me. all i see through my scrolling cycle is random ass dog videos, cleaning and organizing videos, or nick edits… and that’s exactly what i need.

i let out a loud sigh, slightly rolling my eyes then rolling over to my other side, having my blanket wrap around me. i choose to just swipe off the app and throw my phone to the side of me before closing my eyes and just trying to get some sleep. that way those videos, my stupid feelings, and not even nick can haunt my mind anymore.

°:. *₊ ° . ☆

my eyes flicker open, the sun shining directly in my face and i finally decide to actually do something good for myself and go out for a walk when the sun and clear weather is still out, it’s been raining almost the whole time i’ve seen dying in my room alone.

i slowly move myself up to sit, leaning my back on the wooden headboard behind me and sitting on some pillows below that cushion me. i stretch out my arms in front of me, yawning and running my fingers through my hair to fix the shaggy mess.

i move myself off my bed, stand up then fixing my off center shirt and trying to flatten out a few wrinkles. i throw the blanket that covered me to the side and decide to just throw the shirt and pants that i wear off me -actually putting them somewhere other than on the floor too- i pick out a clean outfit, already feeling way less gross, it’s the small things that count right.

i walk out my room, not forgetting to grab my phone to come with me before going into my bathroom, splashing my face with water to get me more awake. i run my hands in my hair again, fixing it up with my mirror in front of me so i can actually see what i’m doing before grabbing some actual water giving myself something to drink other than dr pepper.

finally i walk out to go by my door, grabbing a light jacket and pulling it over my arms then putting on my shoes and heading out the door. i start off to go a longer way, turning the corner of the sidewalk. i feel all the small breezes on my skin as i get actual sun and nature.

i continue walking random ways, i just want to be out of the mess that i’ve been living in for so long right now. it actually feels nice to be outside, not sitting in a gross hole of dirty clothes and dishes.

☆ °:. *₊ ° . °

i walk, making my way around the neighborhood, my eye catching all the small colorful flowers blooming up and all the small brown squirrels scurrying to run up trees as i pass them. i remember all the times me and nick went out, running around the streets when we were younger. not thinking of anything, just being kids living a simple life. i wish it was still that simple.

as i walk, still obviously thinking of nick, i notice the sky above graying and clouds starting to cover up the sun, shit. i start to walk a little faster, hopefully being able to get home before it pours but as soon as i speed up, small water drops start to fall on me.

i grab the end of my jacket to pull it over my head, holding it over me to shield out the rain. the sides of my jacket block my view as i focus on the path i walk to my place.

i look down at my feet walking, trying not to get too wet as the rain pours more and more, bouncing off the sidewalk. suddenly i feel two hands place on me, pushing me back, “the fuck.” i mutter as i look up, gaining my balance on my feet again. “oh” my face softens as i see nick standing in front of me, his blonde hair damp and drops of water falling from his cheek. he stares at me, i can tell he’s mad and obviously i can tell it’s my doing.

“nick-“ he cuts me off quickly, slightly pushing against my shoulders again as i put my jacket down, wearing it normally, my head now getting pelted with rain. “no, i talk. what the fuck y/n. honestly what has been going gone, you’ve completely ignored me for weeks, you keep blowing me off and i don’t fucking know what i did and the only way i can talk to you about this is randomly bumping into you since you won’t even answer my texts?”

“nick-“ i sigh as i try speaking again but he pushes me back once more. his glassy eyes narrow and i see water pooling in them, i can’t tell if it’s rain or tears. “no! you’re my- you’re supposed to be my best friend and this shit isn’t cutting it y/n! just what is it! what is it. what did i do please just talk to me. if you hate me or something just tell me!” he shouts, his fists starting to clench as i wipe the wet hair in my face away.

“nick stop. you- you didn’t do anything i promise, i’m sorry okay” my voice croaks, i can feel the water pooling in my own eyes now. “then what is it! you can’t just block me out, out of no where.” i shake my head, trying to figure out how to say an actual explanation without saying too much. “nick i’m sorry!”

“stop apologizing! i’m not asking for that, i’m asking for an answer, please. i feel like shit and you haven’t even been there, i kept trying to talk and hang out with you but apparently you hate me now and never want to see me again, i get it!” he scoffs, staring me down as his eyes shut, tears dropping as he takes a breath before opening his eyes back up, wiping off the mixture of tears and rain.

“like i said, if you hate me or suddenly don’t want to be my friend, tell me. i truly, truly, don’t understand this shit your pulling and if you won’t talk now then when will we? you’ll just ignore me again so just spit it out now!” nick keeps rambling on and i just stare at him, seeing how hurt i’ve actually made him. i don’t know what to say, i really don’t.

i just want to shut him up, have him realize that it’s my fault and i don’t hate him. i cut him off as he continues to yell at me, “nick!” my voice feels weak as he shouts back, “what!” i stare at him for a moment, seeing those blue eyes i miss, those star earrings, his grown out roots and before i know it my hands go up to his face, pulling him in as our lips press together.

my hands hold him as strands of his hair poke my fingers, our noses slightly brushing against each others. i quickly step back, eyes wide as i realize what i just did, taking my hands back. “i-im sorry“ my breath is short before i turn around, running away from him to get back to the shit hole of comfort i’m living in to avoid what i just confessed.

i swear i hear him try to call my name but i ignore it, i can’t see him. what did i just do. i can’t even process any of this.

°:. *₊ ° . ☆

i finally reach my place again and i swiftly open my door and walk inside, standing as raindrops slide off of me, creating a small puddle on the floor below. i shake off my hair a little, flicking the water droplets off of me. i take off my jacket, putting it on a hook to let it dry as i take off my shoes too, leaving them by the door.

i wipe my face off with the palms of my hands, wiping off many of my tears that still fall. i walk over to my fridge, getting out another dr pepper then walking over to my couch, slumping down into it as i set my can down and wrap a blanket around myself to warm me up again.

i slowly slide to the side, laying myself down on the cushions. why the actual fuck would i kiss him? what that really the best thing i could do? he already hated me, i did not have to make it worse. i ponder in my head, genuinely trying to find a valid reason of why i just kissed my best friend that hates me. oh. my. god. i’ve ruined my life -not like it was already ruined- i’m never coming back from this.

i stare at the unopened dr pepper sitting on my coffee table, i try making myself reach for it but my arms don’t want to leave the warmth of the blanket i’m huddled in. i hear my phone buzz next to the dr pepper on, i also cannot seem to have my arm reach out to see who’s calling, i hope it’s not who i think but why would he even call me?

rain pelts out on my window, water sliding down the cold glass of it as i lay holding my blanket close to me, pulling the blanket over my eyes as they close, resting as i try forget about my phone continuously buzzing and the drink still on my table.

☆ °:. *₊ ° . °

taglist : @slutforchriss @mattsleftnipple03 @mattsdinosweater @ccolleenn @mixvchelle @leah-loves-lilies @sturn-wrld @redz0nez9 @cheriematt @freshloveforthefit @nickuniversity @whore4matt @txssvx @will-yummy @matty-bear @venusbabysblog @m0r94n

[loafeebuns]

Soooo where to begin,, this won’t be too organized and I’m really just copypasting in their artfight info lmao, I guess I’ll give super basic character intros plus old and new art of them, starting with NC! It isn’t a surprise but I love this dude, Nine Circles is my favorite hard demon and I’ve thought of so much regarding his backstory and just AGHH,, For four years now HELP,, oldest art of him is on top and latest is on the bottom! (Again they’re mostly all on twitter, sorry for the huge aa watermarks)

Nine Circles ♦️

He/Him 🏳️‍⚧️ | Rank 3 Demon (Middle ranked) | NC type - FLASH WARNING!!

- The first type of his kind.. a species of demon capable of strobing bioluminescent lights to stun and prey on mortals. Among the NC levels he is almost like a big brother figure more than anything else, even when they tower over him lol,,

- Extroverted, reckless, snarky, devil may cry son of a bit- with questionable morals.. doesn’t really care for most mortals as they’re out to get him,, but loves and is loyal to his friends and enjoys teasing other demons hweheh!!

- He’s from the gd capital city, a rarity for demons to be found so close to super heavy human populations, so he’s quick, and can stealth around easily. He doesn’t always make the brightest decisions especially when battle is initiated, there he kinda just go crazy go stupid until it ends up working out 👍

- His role in the world is complicated, as the first NC demon he is essentially what started the influx of demons being created in his image. Before that though he himself was created to achieve an exterior goal. Demons are artificial beings and during the time he was made there was just hugeee prejudice towards him and others like him, he’s infamous among mortals and demons ahehhehee.. but this time was especially rough as he along with his peeps needed to band together,,

KEEPING THIS BRIEF I SHALL EXPLAIN WAY MORE BUT THATS HARD WHEN U ALSO HAVE TO EXPLAIN HOW DEMONS WORK AND MORTALS/HUMANS AHEM PLAYERS BUT ALSO ALSO THE WORLD AND HOW THAT FUNCTIONS AND THEIR MORALS AND-

Also fun bonus fact! Normal sunlight actually strains the hell out of his eyes! He prefers keeping them hidden away either under hair, hood, etc only fully revealing em once it’s dark! He sees via cartoon logic!

[strayheartless]

Neurodivergent Cloud things that I’m definitely not (am) projecting:

When Cloud feels overwhelmed it feels like someone has put two bags of sand on his shoulders and then sucked all his energy out with a straw. He has to sit down for a while and rest his forehead on his hands for a while before he can function again.

Meltdowns don’t happen often, he is more likely to go completely numb and appear rude and apathetic towards people. However when he does reach critical mass he throws things. There was once or twice as a child where Cloud got in trouble for braking something they couldn’t afford to fix because he’d had a really bad day and didn’t know how to cope.

As a young man Cloud only ever melted down in front of Zack once and surprisingly Zack handled it pretty well. He took Clouds PHS out of his hand before he could throw it and directed him to the bed clothes saying “if you ruin that we can just remake it,”. After Cloud hand we’ll and truly wrecked the bed and screamed in frustration for a bit Zack pulled him in and let him cry himself out.

As an Adult Cloud holds on and holds on until he is no longer able to control it and ends up scaring people with how violent he gets towards objects. Later (mid/post AC) he will take himself off to the wastes and scream in Canyons because he feels like he’s being pathetic when it happens.

Cloud is not diagnosed with Anything until Denzel is. Reading booklets about autism made him seriously uncomfortable. Not because he didn’t accept Denzel but because it was like having his life explained to him.

Socialising is incredibly hard for Cloud. He gets triggered by little things really easily and even when he is the “saviour of Gaia” he still catches people calling him ‘weird’ or ‘odd’ or complaining about how he never seems interested because he doesn’t look people in the eye.

His masking habits are odd because it’s not so much covering behaviours as it is consciously triggering a freeze response. If he feels like he will react wrong he goes still or responds with less words to try and minimise the “damage” he thinks he will do.

Clouds space is his. People don’t go in it, they don’t “just pop in to check on him” and they certainly don’t change things in his space. His distress is never obvious but people who know him know that on the inside he’s either extremely angry or wanting to cry but not being able to.

He went through a period of having to fake emotions as a teenager. There were times when people would say “are you not excited?!” And Cloud would find it easier to lie and say yes then explain he literally felt hollow 90% of the time.

Zack, his mom Claudia, and Sephiroth (as clouds special interest) are the only people who have ever elicited a strong emotional reaction from Cloud. Later he would be able to add all of Avalanche to that list of people but it takes Cloud a very long time to get past his numbed emotions.

Okay ramble over! Did I project a bit? Yeah, but I tried to keep it true to his characterisation too. Some of it hits a little close though 😬.

[paopaupaus]

part 8 of the Buddie Development Rant

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10

S4:E4 9-1-1, What’s your grievance?

i’m sorry but the scene where Buck is punching the punching bag and Eddie is right beside it is kindaaa…

S4:E5 Buck begins

One thing that i can take away from Eddie and Buck’s interactions, especially in this episode, is that they understand each other like no one else. Eddie tells Buck that he knew why he had to go into that fire, and something in his eyes makes me think that Buck felt like he didn’t have to explain anything to Eddie

S4:E6 Jinxed

bonus: did anyone notice all the women checking out Buck at 13:56 😂

and then Buck looking angry/confused when eddie said he had a date with Anna

S4:E7 There Goes the Neighborhood

why did Buck have to go on a date with the most annoying woman ever, i think it was weird timing with Eddie starting to date again.

And then they decide to keep her as Albert’s gf, but all of her traits are gone now? i felt like they introduced an anarchist and pessimist and then she starts dating Albert and it all goes away? plot device smh

S4:E8 Breaking Point

Buck babysitting Christopher while Eddie’s out on his date :”) and when he’s home Buck asks how did the date go and Eddie tells him “she taught me math” and he wasn’t lying??

S4:E12 Treasure Hunt

Eddie heard treasure hunt and immediately told buck we’d make a good team :) it was cute seeing them running around trying to find it, although Eddie did look sad when he found out Buck had already partnered with Taylor :(

S4:E13 Suspicion

Carla talks to Eddie and tells him that he needs to listen to his heart and not only to what Christopher needs.

At the end of the episode Eddie is shot, right in front of Buck, the world literally stopped and they looked into each other’s eyes. 😭 then when they are both on the ground Eddie reaches out with his hand to Buck. and it is said that Oliver (Buck’s actor) got their silouette tattooed after filming :”)

S4:E14 Survivors

ooohh my god. following the gunshot Buck pulls Eddie out of the middle of the streets and then carries him to get him in the truck (hot? 😃) in the truck Buck is tending to Eddie (is it a bad time to say that i love how Buck’s voice gets all high and pitchy when he’s freaked out?)

Buck “hey hey i got you, hey just… you just stay with me okay?” looking into his eyes 😭✋

Eddie “are you hurt?” (cause Buck was covered in his blood) honey you’re bleeding how can you focus on Buck (no but also let’s never forget Eddie is a BAMF who also pulled out a convoy from open fire in the war)

Buck “i need you to hang on” x2

Buck is COMPLETELY out of it shaking so much, but still all he wants to do is go with Christopher and be with him.

when he gets the news that Eddie is out of surgery he breaks down crying. guys idk about you but this doesn’t seem like simply just a friendship.

Anna calls Buck to tell him that Eddie woke up, first of all he makes sure Eddie makes a facetime call with Christopher.

Eddie “appreciate you staying with him”

Buck thought Chris should stay somewhere he knew, because carla offered to take him to her house.

Eddie “you were there for him when i couldn’t, that’s what matters.”

i love these two together, they aren’t just a bromance, they jumped straight to functional family.

Eddie babytrapped Bick, he made him Christopher’s godfather 😭 also i don’t see the big deal? a lot of people have said that it was wrong for Eddie to do that but Buck would 100% be up for the job and he already has a village that could help

“no one will ever fight as hard for my son as you”

i think this is the first time Eddie calls him Evan and it is so cute 😩

“because 😒 Evan 🙄 you came in here the other day and you said you thought it would have been better if it had been you who was shot😠”

with this we finish season 4 🫶 i’m glad i got addicted to this show because there’s so much contect and i love every single character, hope you have a great day/night and feel free to comment so we can chat!

[saratinz]

Show Me Where It Hurts

pairing ➩ Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

warnings ➩ angst, drinking, smut, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, daddy kink, praise, pet names (good girl, sweetheart, baby, honey, slut)

synopsis ➩ part four of 'Fuck Away the Pain'

word count ➩ 1.4k

a/n ➩ comment or dm me to be added to taglist.

“Y/n, I’m not so sure this is a good idea.” He considers Sam’s words, but he’s also only human. If you keep pushing, he will break. Both of you know that. “This morning you said…”

“I know what I said, but you should know that I’m a liar.”

“Good girls don’t lie.”

“What do you do to bad girls like me, daddy?”

“I punish them.”

“Hopefully you don’t hurt me too bad, wouldn’t want me to walk all funny tomorrow.”

“Well now that you mention it, that would be really cute. Can’t leave me without functioning legs, and even if you do escape, everyone will know that you got fucked nice and hard. No one will touch you ever again. But that won’t even matter, because you only want me. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes daddy, you’re the only one for me.” Bucky melts at your words. “Well, if I’m going to get punished might as well get it over with.” You lead him into his room, closing and locking the door in record speed. Clothes fly in all different directions, there’s so much sexual tension you need to get out. “Don’t prep, I want you inside me.”

“You’re not in charge here, I’ll do what I want to do to your body.”

“And what’s that?”

“Get on your knees.” You kneel in front of him, pressing a kiss to his blood red tip. Before you can spit on his length, hands push you onto it, plunging right to the back of your throat. In response, you push him away. “No teasing or I swear to god I’ll fuck your face so hard you can’t breathe.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Don’t be a brat.”

“I’m not being a brat, I’m just telling you I don’t believe you.” As soon as you are finished speaking he is back in mouth, grabbing your hair and giving a harsh tug, and you feel your eyes start to well up. “Aww, you’re crying. Can you multitask, suck my cock and cry at the same time?” You glare at him from your knees. You keep on staring right into his eyes as your hands move to play with his neglected balls, squeezing them with the perfect amount of pressure. “You really know what you’re doing there, fuck.” He continues to face fuck you, and you continue to shed tears. You try to inhale, but it’s so hard with a nine inch dick thrusting inside your mouth, and you can’t even fathom taking another breath. But you don’t care, not when you get to have Bucky all to yourself like this. When it’s just the two of you, everything just feels right. Everything feels, well, perfect. “Get up, I wanna be inside you.”

You do as he says, and he pushes you onto his bed, climbing on top of you shortly after. Your legs push him towards your core and you take a deep breath, still panting from the way you got your throat pounded. He enters you, immediately setting a relentless pace. Time slows, your heart rate quickens, and your fingernails dig into his back. You’re holding on to him so tight, squeezing him with your arms, legs, and pussy to keep him from leaving. He stares directly into your eyes, then crashes his lips to yours as his flesh hand moves down between your thighs. The tight circles on your clit mixed with the hot tongue in your mouth sends you over the edge. “Daddy, I’m cumming.”

“Good girl.” He leaves your hole, and suddenly you’re picked up, wrapping your legs around his waist. Still carrying you like you weigh nothing, he gently presses your back to the wall. The metal arm you love so much digs into your right thigh in painful pleasure. “Hold on baby, gotta get in your tight cunt again.” You moan as he intrudes your core, wanting nothing more than to scream his name. But you can’t do that, because unfortunately, you have to be considerate to Bucky’s floor-mates. Your legs are so sore already, and he is nowhere near done with you. “Fuck sweetheart, you feel so good. You have the best cunt in the whole world, and you also have the best daddy in the world. I know exactly how to fuck you. Know how to make you feel so good.” He finds that spongey spot, and hits it over and over until your eyes are rolling to the back of your head and you’re cumming all over his dick.

Barely a minute passes before he has you on your hands and knees, fucking into you with no regard for your overstimulation. You don’t complain though, because all you want is to please and be pleased by him. When you hated him, he got under your skin, and now that you love him, you get under him. You could spend all day every day here in his bed, in his grasp. No drugs or alcohol bring you to this state of euphoria. You need him, you’re his after all. No matter how bad he hurt you, no matter how angry you are with him, you will never resist his touch. This is probably a bad relationship, and you know it’s eventually gonna end, but you also know that you deserve good things. Love is a complicated thing, and even though you can’t be his girlfriend, at least you can be his girl. The one he touches, and who touches him; The one he loves, and who loves him. As much as you want to actually be with him, this will have to do. The kinky sex will have to be enough. Your mind is racing, and yet it’s empty at the same time. You don’t even realize you’re having an orgasm till the man behind you pulls you out of your trance. “You’re doing so good for daddy, can you give me one more? After that we’ll go to bed.”

“Yes.”

“Okay baby, get on top, I want you to ride me.” You groan as you maneuver around, the burning of you thighs very evident in this position. You sit yourself on his cock, but you just can’t seem to lift your body back up. “Aww, is my little slut too fucked out to move? Don’t worry, daddy will do all the work.” He grabs you hips and holds you in place as his lift up at a sadistic velocity. You’re so empty-headed, no thoughts cross your mind except how good Bucky is fucking you. Goddamnit, why does he have to be so good at sex? If he was terrible it would be easy to leave, everything between the two of you would be over. But no, he has to be a sex god who breaks you apart every time you fuck. It’s barely three minutes before you’re sent over the edge again. Of course he can give you four orgasms in one night, even though you’ve only ever managed to give yourself two. “Daddy’s gonna cum, okay?”

“DADDY.” You scream as you squirt and he cums inside you.

“I love you so much.” He coos at you, basking in the mess you all just made.

“I love you too.” He pulls himself out of you and helps you get into a pair of his boxers and one of his favorite shirts, wondering how he got so lucky. He found the girl of his dreams, but messed it up almost immediately. To call what he did a mistake would be an understatement, it was a royally fucked up thing to do. He was selfish, drank too much, didn’t take care of himself, resulting in him not being able to take care of you. Except in moments like these, where he gets to pleasure your perfect body. Where he gets to pretend that he will have a happy ending. He gets to pretend that you’ll get married, have children, and grow old with him. But he knows he won’t get a happy ending. And he knows that he’ll watch from the sidelines as you get married, have children, and grow old with someone else.

You leave his room early the next morning, managing to get out without waking him up. You limp to your room and take a long, hot shower. It feels amazing, but doesn’t even hold a candle to last night. Once you’re done, you get ready for the day. You change into your workout clothes and head down to the gym. You’re alone for a while, but then a familiar face enters the room. “Hey Sam.”

“Y/n, we need to talk.”

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