#and doesn’t let me do anything but replay the scene

[missbubblesoda]

early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (15)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26) | (27)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 5.5k

You pushed the hardwood door carefully, just enough to allow yourself in. But, contrary to what you had expected, he wasn’t sitting at his desk.

Your eyes scanned the office, completely engulfed in darkness, and figured it must be very early in the morning. At this time, there was only one place he could be.

You headed for the door that led to his room and pushed it open slowly, careful not to make it creak more than necessary. You assumed he wouldn’t mind you inviting yourself into his personal space. You had been there before, not too long ago.

But he wasn’t there either.

Surprisingly.

The moonlight, sneaking in through the crystal windows, made the white sheets of his bed glow, and provided the only source of light in his cold, empty room. Cold. Why is it this cold? Your eyes instinctively traveled to the fireplace. He must have forgotten to light it on. It’s going to be freezing when he comes back. You thought. Because, maybe it wasn’t that early in the morning, after all. Maybe it was very late into the night, and he was yet to come back from wherever he had gone for the day.

You stood in the middle of the empty room. Waiting for something to happen. Anchored in place by the tightness pounding in your chest. Maybe it was the excitement you felt at the thought of seeing him again.

No. It was something else.

You turned your attention to the bookshelves, where he kept his journals, and scanned their spines as if searching for something. You knew what you were looking for, but you didn’t know how it looked. If that made sense.

There was a growing pit in your stomach. Maybe it was the anticipation you felt at the thought of being held in those strong, well-muscled arms once again.

No. It was something else.

Your painfully parched throat told you so. And your fingers, trembling as they reached for the small notebook lying forgotten on his bed, reminded you that you probably shouldn’t read what was clearly not written for you. Because that name, the one his impeccable handwriting was spelling on the first page, it wasn’t yours. It was the name of a woman, yes, but that woman was not you. And the more you stared, the more frustrated you grew, because the thing is, you actually didn’t know how to read this name. In fact, you didn’t even know what language it was. Oddly enough, you were certain it was a female name. Ilsa? Stella? Frida? Marie? It really didn’t matter. Did it?

You glanced over your shoulder in the direction of the door, the same way stray cats do before crossing the street. Your heart was beating in a forbidden way, while a dangerous cocktail of adrenaline and curiosity was influencing all your decisions. You stared at the notebook you held in your hands, and realized it was a twin of the black one he kept with him at all times. There was something about this one, however. It was thicker.

More tempting.

With hesitant fingers, and painful apprehension digging a hole in your chest, you finally turned the page. And, as soon as you read the first sentences, you understood it: you understood that it was her.

It must be her.

The one he was talking about in these entries.

Your vision started to get blurry, and, although you weren’t able understand all the sentences he had written, you understood enough.

‘…wonder what it would be like today.’

‘…thought I saw you the other day’ and

‘will never love another…’

It was exasperating, torturous even, to only understand pieces. The rest of the sentences were in a foreign language you had never seen in your life. The same language her name was written in.

“What are you doing?” A familiar, flat voice startled your heart out of rhythm.

You looked back, surprised to see Captain Levi standing in the doorway.

“I asked you a question.” His eyes traveled to the small notebook you held in your trembling hands, and then back to your face. “Stop crying, brat. You’re going to ruin the pages.”

Crying? You slowly lifted a hand to your face, and traced the wet trails running down your cheeks.

“Why are you crying?” Captain Levi asked.

“That’s what she usually does.” Another familiar voice, deeper than the Captain’s, could be heard approaching from the Commander’s office. “She doesn’t know better than to cry when she’s overwhelmed.” A wrinkled face, one you were fairly acquainted with, finally revealed itself. “I told you, that little habit of yours… that’s the one titans find particularly appetizing. Compose yourself!”

Instructor Shadis? What was he-

“Actually, I don’t care why you’re crying. Let’s get out of here before Erwin kicks us all out.” Captain Levi looked just as displeased as always.

“Where is the Commander?” You asked timidly, fearing you might get yelled at.

“He said he will be here by morning.” But this time it was Shadis the one to reply.

Morning? You looked at the windows, and squinted your eyes at how bright it was outside. Noon-bright. When had it gotten like that? Your eyes hurt. And the light was so intense it forced you to close them… until you couldn’t see anything anymore…

“He will be here in a few hours.” Your mother opened the curtains, welcoming the early morning sunlight into the room. Relief also found its way in through the crystal windows, as you realized this was your bedroom, not the Commander’s office, and that you hadn’t actually breached his trust by reading his private journals. You’d like to think the real you would never do such thing. She could still pride herself on the fact that she knew better. Better than to pry into other people’s private affairs.

And most importantly, you were glad. Glad you didn’t find a journal dedicated to her in the Commander’s room. If there was such thing after all, you were happy to never confirm its existence. Delighted to live in blissful ignorance forever. Or at least for as long as you could.

As you curled into a ball, blanket pulled all the way up to your chin, you stared at your mother, who was now lighting the fireplace, and basked in the relief you felt that it was just her, and not actually Captain Levi or Instructor Shadis. That would be awkward.

“Goodness. How were you able to sleep without the fire? It was freezing last night.” You smiled at her through heavy eyelids. You missed the base, that was true, but you couldn’t deny that it was nice to be back home, under the warm care of your mother. It was nice to-

Wait.

Who will be here in a few hours?

-

“I’m not interested.”

“Well, he clearly is. Otherwise he wouldn’t be coming all the way here just to see you.”

“I didn’t even know his name until literally five minutes ago. So no, Mother, I’m definitely not interested in meeting him.” You said as you added an immoderate spoonful of honey to your orange juice. “It’s a shame he’s spending his time and resources traveling all the way here.”

“I agree, so could you please just give him an opportunity?”

“Mother, this conversation is not helping my headache.”

“Headache?”

“I had a bad dream last night.” You explained, as you sat at the breakfast table.

“It’s not because of that. It’s because you forgot to light on the fireplace last night. You’re catching a cold.” She replaced the glass of orange juice you had just prepared, with a steaming cup of something that smelled delicious. “As I was saying, I know he’ll grow on you, like he did on your father.” Your mother also placed a bowl of peeled tangerines next to the bread basket. “Have these, I just sliced them. They’re as sweet as you like them. You’ll like him if you meet him.”

“Thank you.” You said, reaching for the bowl of fresh fruit. “I disagree, Mother. He may be nice, I believe you on that. Goodness. These are exceptional! Thank you.” You admitted, mouth completely stuffed, but fingers already reaching for the next slice regardless. “Anyway, where were we? Oh right! You can be sure I won’t be marrying him anytime soon.” You took a sip of the tea your mother had prepared for you, and closed your eyes as it warmed your insides, thinking about how much you wished to excel at something the way she did in the kitchen. “Or far, for that matter.”

No matter what this man your parents had invited for lunch looked or talked like, you knew you wouldn’t fall for him. And you said this with all the confidence and conviction a person’s heart was able to house. It was not impossible for this gentleman to be every bit as charming and good-looking as your mother had described, he could be all that and more, but you knew it was physically impossible for him to ‘grow’ on you, regardless. Not when there was no space available. Because, the thing is, someone else had already started setting roots on the land where that type of feelings were supposed to grow.

“Who’s even talking about marriage?” Your mother sighed as if she had just heard the most outrageous of ideas. “Honey, you don’t have to choose him if he’s not the right one. You don’t even have to look at marriage today if that’s not what you want. Just think of him as a new friend.” But? You knew there was more to it. “But, unless you are planning to stay single forever, you are going to have to go through this at some point or another. Sooner or later. That is a fact. Are we on the same page?” You nodded, mouth still full of tangerine slices. “And, look at you, you’ve already blossomed into womanhood!” The emphasis your mother placed on that last sentence made it sound as if it had happened just yesterday. “Isn’t it better to go through all this process now? While you’re young and have plenty of charm, as well as the attention of such a respectable, young man?”

Your mom sat on the chair beside yours, and remained silent as she watched you spread butter on your toast. But, after a few minutes, she sighed. And the gentle, warm hand she placed on your shoulder told you that you were about to get to the part where she explained why this meeting was so important to her.

“Honey, I think it’s time you start thinking about this part of your future too. It needs some of that attention.” She spoke softly, although there was audible worry and desperation in her voice. “Just a little of that attention you give to that professional side of yours, which, don’t get me wrong!” She rushed to add. “I understand that too, and I’m happy that you have a job you feel so passionate about. Your father and I, although scared, are very proud of you. You look so healthy and happy for someone who is in the Survey Corps.” You chuckled, remembering how many letters you had to write to your parents after you told them you had joined the scouts. You had lost count of how many weeks you spent trying to calm and reassure them, trying to convince them that you weren’t suicidal in any shape or form.

“But I’m just worried. I worry about you, honey. Everyday. Not only because of the dangers of your line of work, but also because, once you go back to the base and seclude yourself down there for another year, your chances of meeting someone…” She paused and looked at your plate, as if asking the bread if the words she was about to say were the right ones. “Your chances of meeting the right one, will decrease dramatically. And although it may seem like I’m forcing this situation on you, I promise you that is not my intention. At the end of the day, the choice is yours. You can sit around and wait until the right one comes, or you can start taking steps to meet him.”

While you appreciated your mother’s words and her sincere concerns about your future, you would certainly appreciate it more if she hadn’t arranged this meeting in the first place. But, although you weren’t excited at all about spending your Sunday afternoon faking smiles to please some random stranger while he bragged about the country estate he had just acquired, you knew your mother meant well. And, you also knew that, regardless of this man’s looks, wealth, or personality, this meeting was not leading anywhere, at least not anywhere near the destination your mother had in mind. Plus, he was already coming anyway, and nothing you said would stop this lunch from happening. So, all things considered, you rolled your eyes and sighed one more time before giving a reluctant nod to your mother.

“Who is this Lord Angert again?”

-

When his lips met the back of your hand and his forest green eyes looked up to meet yours, you had a déjà vu. When he handed you the box of figs he had so kindly brought for you, you also had a déjà vu. You had the exact same tin box in your night stand back at the base.

And when a bitter gust of wind carried in the familiar smell of climbing hydrangeas, you couldn’t help but travel back in time, to that chilly night last fall. Back then, however, the scent of the flowers was saturated with addictive, musky notes, and soaked in the smell of frost. Now, the air was infused with lemon and cinnamon, as well as the smoky smell left by the midday sun as it tried to warm up the pavement.

That night, the hair had been blonde, not hazel. Oh, and your heart, your heart had been threatening to break your ribcage. But now, it seemed to be sleeping soundly inside your chest.

“Thank you for accepting to meet me in such short notice, my lady.”

“Thank you for coming all the way here, my lord.” You smiled politely at the tall, fair-skinned man you had in front of you. He was surprisingly young. You had been expecting someone a little older, who looked and acted like those you had met at the ball, since your mother said that was where you had ‘charmed’ this man. But so far, at least on the outside, Lord Angert seemed to be nothing like that.

“You might not remember me, so I’ll introduce myself again.” You realized the color of his voice, as well as the way his luscious wavy hair excitedly danced with the wind, were the main factors contributing to his youthful appearance. He could be your age. Or even younger. And you really didn’t remember seeing anyone like that at the party. “Leon Angert, at your service.” He smiled and his eyes adopted the shape of crescent moons.

“Have we met before, my lord?”

He let out chuckle that could only be described as refreshing, one that let you know he already suspected you wouldn’t remember him, and then said: “We did. The night of the charity ball. We were introduced by my uncle, Lord Koch. Well, actually my uncle introduced me to Commander Erwin Smith of the Survey Corps, and you were with him, so yes, I guess we met by association.”

You found his response quite amusing. What did that even mean? Didn’t everyone meet by association? You looked down at the tin box you held in your hands, trying to buy yourself some time while you browsed through your recollections of that night, seeing if you could find something. But it was no use, all you could remember was the Commander, his face, his tuxedo, his scent, his voice, and his touch. Especially his touch. Because even though he was now miles away, your lower back still tickled from where his fingertips had left their lingering mark that night.

“It’s okay to not remember. I’m not known for leaving lasting impressions.” Lord Angert said, and you felt sorry for the man. It wasn’t his fault. You were sure you would have remembered him if it wasn’t because all your attention had been monopolized by the man whose arm you had been holding onto the entire evening. Every single memory you had of that fall night was about him, and what he did, what he said to you, where he touched you. If it made Lord Angert feel any better, you didn’t remember anyone else from that party either. Save Lord Wald. But that was because of entirely different reasons, reasons you were trying to forget about.

“Well, it’s nice to formally meet you. Again.” You gave the man a friendly smile, trying to warm him from the freezing weather. And speaking about that, “Please come in, my family is waiting for you inside.”

As you guided him to the sunroom, you couldn’t help but notice how your footsteps felt way less heavy than you remembered they were when you went to open the door for him. At least at first glance, Lord Angert was nothing like you had imagined. You had braced yourself for dealing with some presumptuous guy, but the fact that he seemed to be decently kind and basic-mannered made the prospect of this afternoon look slightly more bearable. And you snorted to yourself, thinking about all the unnecessary drama your overthinking always put you through. You did have a tendency to catastrophize, after all. Your parents would never set up their daughter with the likes of Lord Wald. Would they?

And you were right. You had to admit that, even a couple hours later, this little reunion was going better than expected. It didn’t feel like an awkward date. It was more like a Sunday gathering with a cousin or a family friend. In addition, what your mother had said earlier was completely true, your father really liked Lord Angert. They had been engaging in a lengthy, animated, and quite interesting, conversation about mysterious, seedless pumpkins, and you were happy to be able to just sit back, listen, and enjoy your mother’s cooking.

“How’s Hansel?” Your father asked after he had grown tired of so much vegetable talk.

“Pretty good. He’s been quite busy supervising the training of the foals.”

“Training? That early?”

Lord Angert nodded as he took a sip of spiced wine. “The earlier you start training, the earlier you’ll see results. And, even as advanced adults, they will be sharper and more quick-witted than those who start training after two years, which is the standard.”

“Pretty interesting stuff.” Your father concluded, scratching his chin.

“That’s the secret to make the animals age exuberantly. I actually came to Mitras to supervise the acclimation of the yearlings we sold to the Military Police last month.”

So he hadn’t come just to see you as your mother had implied. For some reason, knowing that you weren’t the only reason he came to the capital made you feel very relieved and light.

“What breed are the yearlings?”

“We’ve been mostly focusing on draft horses. Black Forest and Friesian, to be more specific. They’re both relatively small, yet muscular, which makes them capable of pulling heavy carriages at high speeds.” Lord Angert explained animatedly, clearly appreciating your father’s interest in the topic. “They’re faster and braver. And not as sensitive to noise, which means they don’t get scared as easily.”

You didn’t know what breed the horses back at the base were, but you wondered if the Survey Corps used a similar training for their animals, since they were the calmest, smartest horses you had ever seen. They adapted so well to any rider, whether it was their usual person or a complete stranger.

“So, Lord Angert. You met our daughter at the charity ball last fall?” Your mother was clearly trying to stir the conversation into a direction you found particularly uncomfortable.

“That’s right, my lady. Uncle Hansel is good friends with Commander Smith of the Survey Corps, whom I believe your lady daughter is working under. And that’s how we were introduced. This pie is delicious by the way.” He commented, clearly more interested in the consistency of the pie’s crust than recalling the night you met. And you couldn’t help but find your mother’s disappointment quite amusing.

“My daughter doesn’t just work under Erwin Smith. She is his personal assistant. His right hand, if you will.” Your father spoke in that pretentious manner of his, the one he used when he wanted to embellish his stories or make a situation seem more important than it actually was. And this was the part where you usually cringed, every time. “He really appreciates her. Did you know he once saved her life during an expedition? It was my daughter’s first time beyond the walls.” But this time, you weren’t cringing, surprisingly. You had to admit you actually really enjoyed the sensation caused by the balloon growing inside your chest as your father narrated the story. He was making it his, however, obviously adding his personal touch, as well as some scenes that weren’t in the original version you had told him some months ago.

Lord Angert seemed just as interested in the story as you. And you finally understood why your father liked him. Your father loved to talk and Lord Angert was happy to listen, while he munched on the rhubarb pie.

“Truly remarkable, isn’t it? If it wasn’t for him slicing the titan’s head with one swift motion of his sword, my daughter wouldn’t be here with us today.” Your father concluded after minutes of talking, taking a sip of his wine. “I didn’t expect less of from the Commander of the Survey Corps. And, after the charity ball, he even made sure our daughter got home safe. I didn’t get to thank him personally that night. I’d like to do just that one day. But I digress, bottom line is he is very protective of my daughter.” A pleasant warmth spread throughout your skin, making you smile widely. You had never seen it that way, but now that your father mentioned it, the Commander was indeed protective of you.

“I know Erwin Smith is taking good care of my daughter.” At those words, the warm sensation started spreading to very inappropriate areas, namely the one between your legs. And, for some equally inappropriate reason, your mind didn’t hesitate to provide you with very detailed, explicit images of the commander fingering you in his office, after you had stripped for him. On the night you had slept together. And visuals were not the only thing you could call to mind, you could also hear your own moans, very vividly, as well as the sound of his wet fingers sliding in and out of your throbbing hole, as you moaned his name over and over, asking him to give you more. You pressed your legs tight against each other, deciding you probably had issues you needed to work on, since it was lunch time on a Sunday, for goodness sake.

“Commander Smith is truly a remarkable man. My uncle only has good things to say about him.”

“And that means a lot coming from Hansel, considering how fond he is of talking foul about others.” Your father’s laughter filled the room the same way the sun rays sneaking through the glass ceiling did, while Lord Angert chuckled and shook his head lightly, clearly acknowledging there was some truth in those words. And after a while, he said:

“Did you know Commander Smith regularly donates books to schools and libraries in the countryside? I heard it from my uncle.” Lord Angert explained with a motion of his fork. “Uncle Hansel was very good friends with Commander Smith’s late father. He used to do just the same before passing.” You leaned forward, suddenly more interested in this conversation than ever before. You never thought you would learn so much about the Commander under your own roof on such a random day, and from a complete stranger of all people. “And it’s not only children his kindness extends to. He pays my uncle a yearly commission for the rehabilitation of horses who have been injured while on duty.” Lord Angert paused to enjoy a slice of tangerine, and, in the meantime, you wondered how much the balloon in your chest could grow before bursting. “I’ve heard the other military branches just put them down. But Erwin Smith created a fund for their rehabilitation when he took office. And, as a horse enthusiast myself, I can’t help but respect the man.”

‘Is that true?’, your father asked you in the form of a glance he sent your way, and you nodded fervently, unable to stop a proud smile from taking over your features. This was the first time you heard about all this, but it wasn’t hard to believe the Commander would do all that and more. It was so in character for him. It was in his nature. And, at this point, you were convinced you would never get to see the full picture of him, no matter how far back you stepped.

You couldn’t help but notice that there was something refreshing in the air, and it wasn’t just the brisk winter breeze blowing outside, nor the lemonade you were drinking. A conversation that painted the Commander and the Scouts in a positive light was one of the last things you expected to hear during a family meal, and much less from your father or an aristocrat like Lord Angert, given how used you were to the negative talk you grew up listening to.

“I’ll admit I didn’t have many good things to say about Erwin Smith and his people, but that was before my daughter became one of them. You know, his right hand.” He cleared his throat in an attempt to seem unassuming, but clearly struggling in the process. “However, on my defense, back then, I was only going by what I read in the newspapers.”

“I’m sure he is a gentleman of exceptional character and bravery.” Your mother commented before turning to her guest. “It was a fortunate meeting, indeed.”

You were confused at first, and judging by the way Lord Angert froze, mouth open and fork in hand, so was he.

“At the ball that night. Between you two.” Your mother was not going to give up so easily, was she? You noticed the way she glared at your father, urging him to stick to the topic and cooperate.

“Right.” Your father cleared his throat again. “Hansel mentioned my daughter’s beauty was turning heads at the ceremony.” Your eyes rolled all the way to the back of your skull, and you cringed, not exactly because of the cold.

“Indeed, my lord. She looked truly captivating in her gown.”

“What dress did you wear, honey? I never saw it, now that I think about it. You were wearing that coat.” You almost choked on the sip of lemonade you had just taken, your mother’s question making your throat itch all of a sudden.

“The skill of the tailor and quality of the material really shone through.” Lord Angert replied on your behalf before turning to your mother, his eyes becoming crescent moons once again. “My lady, I’m deeply ashamed of my ravenous appetite, but, at the risk of coming across as gluttonous and opportunistic, I musk ask, do we have more of this glorious compote? My sweet tooth can’t get enough of this sensational texture!” You looked at him, and couldn’t help but return his complicit smile, fully knowing he really didn’t crave more dessert.

-

“I believe I should thank you for saving me from my mother’s scolding back there.” You said a while later, as you walked past your favorite tea house. The sun had already begun making its descent, but the afternoon was still warm enough to take a stroll around the neighborhood.

“No problem. I know what an unpleasant experience it is to be to be lectured by one’s parents, whether it is about wardrobe choices or one’s personal taste.” He replied, eyes looking straight at the path ahead of him, and you couldn’t help but feel that there was some deeper, darker meaning buried under those words, but you figured it wasn’t your place to pry.

“Mother says your background is in poetry, my lord.”

He nodded as the wind played with his locks. “I enjoy penning useless sentences from time to time.” He said, smiling in an unassuming manner.

“Really? Mother definitely made it sound as something more significant and special than casual penning.” She had also mentioned Lord Angert had partially moved to a cabin in a remote mountain village, so he could work on his new book without distractions. It sounded like a fascinating, rather cozy place to live. You looked at him with the intention of asking about his lifestyle, but that’s when you noticed his stare was completely lost in the cobblestones below his feet. He looked at them as if trying to choose the starting words to a tiresome speech, one he didn’t want to deliver.

“My lady.” He turned to you and, although he had only said two words so far, took a long, deep breath. “Your lady mother probably told you that I came all the way to Mitras because I couldn’t stop thinking about you after I met you at the charity ball. That’s what Uncle Hansel told your parents when he arranged our meeting last month, and I’m fully aware of how desperate it makes me look, and how uncomfortable it must make you feel to have a complete stranger suddenly so interested in you that he would come all the way to the capital just to see you. That’s why I would like you to know that all I said that night was that you looked stunning, and that I didn’t know Commander Smith was married to a lady of such staggering beauty.” He stringed all those sentences together very quickly, and without pausing to breathe, as if he feared oxygen would prevent the words from coming out. “And my uncle must have heard something completely different, because the next thing I knew is he has set up a meeting with your parents.”

“And they practically forced you to meet me.” You completed the sentence for him. “Goodness! That is so unbelievably embarrassing. My parents literally made it seem like it was love at first sight and you were going to propose to me by noon.”

“Well, I guess that’s why Uncle Hansel and your lord father are such good friends. They’re both very creative storytellers.”

You chuckled and, afterwards, all you could hear was your footsteps and the sound of the water running down the city canals. The silence was not the uncomfortable type, however. It was mutually conceded.

When you reached the city hall bridge, you felt compelled to speak. But before you could, he stopped walking, turned to you, and said:

“I don’t mean to hurt your pride, my lady, and make no mistake, you are absolutely beguiling, and I’m sure any gentleman would be over the moon if fortune presented them with even the slimmest of chances they could be promised your hand in marriage; but I’m afraid that, in the case of this senseless fool, the flame of romantic desire is not burning as bright as the wish I have to start a friendship with you.”

You laughed in a way your mother would have surely found strident. Lord Angert was truly a poet, after all. “That has to be the most beautiful way of saying ‘you were not what I was expecting’ I have ever heard.”

Lord Angert laughed and you joined him soon after. You appreciated his sincerity.

“Thank you very much for understanding, my lady. With that unnecessary social baggage out of the way, we can finally move to other topics. I believe you are acquainted with my good friend Jean.”

“Kirstein? Yes, he is in another unit, but we went to training camp together.” You explained, eyes studying the way the water sparkled under the sun. You had always found it mesmerizing. “Jean. How did you two meet, my lord?”

“You can just call me Leon.” He said, a smile carving dimples into his cheeks.

Later that evening, after both you and the sun had gone to sleep, your mind replayed the events of that day for you, in the form of a dream. But in the dream, the man sitting beside you at the family table, the one holding your hand as he charmed your father with exciting stories and complimented your mother’s rhubarb pie, he had golden strands instead of hazel locks, and sapphires instead of emeralds. And he would also hold your hand a little later as you strolled along the city canals, and he would only let go once you reached the bridge, where he would hold your waist instead, as his lips would linger on yours in the same entrancing yet melancholic way the setting sun did on the water.

-

next chapter

taglist: @elnyrae @angelaevangelion @depitaangeline @ynackerman9499 @afatalheat @pumpkin-toffee @velouria17 @gassytritis @goddessinsweats @nube55 @jeanboyjean @crazychaoticizzy @braunsbabe

[sam24]

Man on a Mission

Summary: Apparently, someone called Bucky's girl a whore. He has now made it his life's mission to find out who.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

*****

Bucky sat at the kitchen island, eyes narrowed, leg bouncing, and the same scene from last night replaying in his head.

Bucky drew random patterns on your bare shoulder, his nose buried into your hair. You were being quieter than usual, but he knew you were awake as he could feel your hands fidgeting.

He didn’t want to press you to tell him about it, so he settled on making you feel as loved as possible, pressing kisses into your hair.

Suddenly, you broke the silence, taking Bucky by surprise.

“Buck . . . do you think I’m a whore?”

“Wha-” Bucky lifted his head immediately, trying to look at you. But you hid your face in your hands, turning away from him.

“God don’t look at me. Fuck, this is so embarrassing,” You groaned into your hands. “Forget I said that.”

“No, honey, look at me please,” Bucky gently pulled your hands down, cradling your face. “Who called you that?”

“No, no, no one,” You shook your head frantically. “I’m sorry, just forget I said anything. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“No, sweetheart, who- okay we’ll get back to that later. But you are not a whore, okay? No woman deserves to be called that in the first place. Who-”

“No, no one. I was just . . . I just randomly thought of it.”

Bucky wasn’t convinced, but he let it slide.

For now.

“Well, I don’t want you thinking these things about yourself.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Okay?”

You nodded, seeming relieved and a little surprised that he dropped it that easily.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

It was now the next morning, and you were at the gym with Natasha, which gave Bucky the perfect opportunity to figure out who to murder.

Steve walked into the kitchen with Sam trailing behind.

“Morning Buck.” Steve greeted. His head stuck into the fridge, trying to look past the shit ton amount of edible cookie dough you had made a couple days earlier.

“How come you didn’t come run with us, you lazy fat ass.” Sam teased, leaning on the island.

“Didn’t feel like it.” Bucky narrowed his eyes.

Suspect 1: Sam Wilson, The Most Annoying Bird Alive

Sam had a tendency to poke fun at people, but some might not take it as well as others. For example, when a barista burst out in tears last week when Sam joked about her being “all over the place” with all the orders coming in. (He came in with flowers the next day)

Bucky wondered if Sam had said something that was supposed to be funny, but you didn’t think it was and got upset.

A part of Bucky wanted to settle on Sam so he had an excuse to beat him up, but the more rational side of him realized that you had gone on one too many missions with him to think he was being serious about anything he said.

Tony then came in, holding a bunch of empty coffee mugs in his hand, practically throwing them into the sink.

“Bruce said my mugs were ‘taking up too much room’ in the lab,” Tony rolled his eyes. “Well why doesn’t he try being the goddamn genius backbone of this team.”

Bucky stared at him intently.

Suspect 2: Tony Stark, The Dick Who Can’t Set His Metal Rock Music Lower Than 98

Tony had a tendency to snap easily, especially when he was low on sleep (which was basically all the time). Everyone usually steered clear of Tony when he was moody, because he would most definitely say the meanest things, but not really mean any of it.

Bucky tried to think if it was logical that Tony would snap at you and say something. However, he came to the conclusion that even if Tony had said something, you had known him for too long to take his sleep-deprived words to heart.

“What are you looking at, Winter Schnitzel?” Tony challenged, noticing Bucky staring at him.

“Nothing.” Bucky replied, his stare shifting over to his best friend, who was grinning in amusement, but still trying to find something to eat that wouldn’t give him diabetes.

Suspect 3: Steve Rog-

Bucky stopped himself, almost laughing at himself for thinking Steve would ever call a woman a whore.

Even though you always kept the fridge full of random items you would make, Steve would never say a single bad thing about you.

For now, Bucky was stuck.

⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃

6 hours later, and Bucky was still stuck.

You and Peter were out (God knows where), which was another perfect chance for Bucky to think.

But the problem was he couldn’t think of anyone.

Everyone in the compound adored you, so Bucky couldn’t figure out who the hell would deliberately say something to make you upset.

He dragged his shoes across the floor, cursing Steve in his head for making him go on a “stroll” because he apparently looked “pent-up”.

There was no way in hell Bucky would walk around outside, so he opted to take a walk inside, using Mother Steve’s demand to his advantage to scout out potential targets.

He halfheartedly glanced around the floor, stopping when his gaze landed on you.

He immediately grinned, not caring about the fact he probably looked crazy, and started his way over to where you were.

You were talking to someone with a bag in your hand. Bucky remembered you saying something about picking up a dress from the store for your friend. Peter was next to you, and for some reason, puffing his chest out?

But, as Bucky got closer, he realized you were talking to Jacob, the little dickwad who couldn’t take no for an answer,

“How many times do I have to tell you? Get out of my way. I’m trying to get this to someone.” Bucky heard you snap, tuning in with his enhanced hearing.

Bucky stopped, trying to assess the situation and figure out if you would appreciate him stepping in or not.

He knew you didn’t need anyone to stand up for you, but his overprotective side rippled through his body, his jaw clenching and fists balling.

“Baby, stop acting- “Jacob was cut off with a sharp slap.

The little bastard was taken by complete shock.

Meanwhile, Peter was still trying to look as intimidating as possible.

“Jacob, what the hell is your problem? I’ve told you to leave me alone more times than I can count. How fucking thick is your skull?”

Jacob was about to reply, with probably something bitchy, but he caught sight of Bucky in the corner with the most murderous glare and stopped himself.

He instead looked down and stepped to the side, giving you and Peter room to go.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Beat it.” Peter growled in the most non-threatening way possible as you two left, giving Bucky the perfect chance to slide in before Jacob could hightail out of there.

“Barnes.” Jacob greeted, clearing his throat.

“Callaway.” Bucky’s blood boiled at how differently he treated other men than how he treated women. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to respect a lady?”

Before Jacob could reply, his equally dumb friend, Brody, walked past the two men.

“Damn, Jake. Barnes finally here to beat you up for calling his girl a whore?”

Bucky and Jacob both stared at Brody.

Jacob looked sickly pale, and Bucky looked calmly terrifying. Clear sign he was fucking enraged.

“Oh shit-” Brody finally put the pieces together, practically sprinting away.

Bucky turned back to face a petrified looking Jacob.

“So,” Bucky reached out, fixing Jacob’s tie and smoothing down his collar. “It was you, huh?”

Jacob tensed under Bucky’s touch.

“Chill pal, I just wanna talk.”

⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃

A bruised cheek, wet underwear, and hurt ego later, Jacob’s talk with Bucky was over.

Bucky threw his feet up on the ottoman, but not before telling Friday to make sure Jacob was apologizing to you, as instructed by Bucky himself.

He patiently waited for you on the couch, a wide grin appearing on his face as you walked in and cuddled up next to Bucky, but not without pressing a kiss to his lips first.

Halfway through the movie, you turned to look at Bucky.

“Thank you,” You smiled.

“For what, doll?”

You turned back to face the movie, a smile playing at your lips. “C’mon. I know that was you. He would never apologize on his own will.”

Bucky laughed, turning you around once again to pepper kisses all over your face.

“I love you, my little smartass.”

“I love you too, pops.”

Mission accomplished.

[from-izzy]

proposing to you | nct dream

“Marry me,” he started, “Carry a part of me wherever you go too.”

pairing » nct dream (individual members) x fem!reader​

trope/au » ​established relationship au!, non-idol au!, marriage au! (well it leads to it)

genre » it's all just fluff and vibes here hehe, dreamies who are all very much in love with you, mark's one makes me chuckle, renjun's one makes me wanna squish his cheeks (i miss him 😭), jeno's one makes me melt, haechan's one is chaotically (?) romantic (in my opinion), jaemin's one makes me want to have pets again so bad, chenle's one makes me want to splurge and treat myself, jisung's one is too adorable for me

word count; estimated reading time » 4303 (total); ~16 mins (total)

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » nicknames; members to reader (love, bubs), lots of kissing, ...not proofread---

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

my very first time doing something like this. this scenario has been in my head for some time and i finally had the time to sit and write it all 🥰 (and also because sem 1 results come out later today and this is my way of forgetting about it uhm 🤠)

this is my personal take on how each member from dream would propose to you!! i tried to make them all with similar word count but i can't help but to get carried away with some 🥹

Mark sits on the stool, one foot on the ground while the other is on the footrest, making sure that his guitar is tuned properly and that the new strings that he bought yesterday are set up properly. To ease his tension he strums random chords and raps random words on top, making the other Dreamies lovingly judge (and tease) him. Jeno would be tasked with calming him down, while Haechan does the exact opposite of what Jeno is doing, purposely annoying him to get his mind off his nervousness. Either way, it worked well to get the lovesick boy from the reason why they’re all gathered today. 

“You both are too loud!” Renjun says when Chenle adds random notes to Mark’s singing, belting high notes that are out of his range whilst also purposely hitting them off-tune.

“She’s probably going to walk in and think we’re crazy,” Jisung whispers to the boy who scolded Haechan not long after, who decided to join in on the chaos.

“Well, the point is that she doesn’t see the chaos right now…” Jeno lets out a nervous grin, turning his head to the still-closed door, “Maybe one of us should stand outside and text someone in the room or something.”

“No,” Jaemin crosses his arms, “This is funny,” taking out his phone to start recording, making the other three facepalm at how he’s indirectly contributing to the chaos. 

In the end, the noise and chaos were too loud for anyone in the room to realise the door opening. When he noticed you from the other side of the room, hand over your mouth, cheeks rising at the scene, his voice cracked and his cheeks blushed instantly. Mark’s voice cracked and his coughing caused the other boys to be immediately disciplined, rushing to their scheduled spots in their room as Mark mutters an “Oh crap…” thinking that everything has all been ruined.

You tried to keep your laughs at bay at your pouting boyfriend, but the image of him being silly only made it harder for you to wipe the smile off your face. But soon after, you realise the decoration around the room and the heart-shaped balloons and the unique balloons shaped like rings. Understanding how this is a different occasion to a date that you expected him to set up, you blurted a quick “No, I didn't see anything!” and rushed out the door, heart beating fast at the possible connotations behind the set-up.

It will forever become a memory that you two will always bring up whenever and wherever. A slight mention of it would instantly bring out a shy Mark who hides his red face in the crook of your neck, forever in love with you.

“Ah! That proposal was supposed to be perfect.”

Your mind replays the scene back again. After running out of the room, you waited around five more minutes, trying to calm the beating against your chest. When you did enter back, your eyes were only focused on Mark who started performing the little piece that he has prepared for you. Your body sways to the rhythm and the sweet melody of his voice and Mark who kept his eyes on yours for the majority of the performance only made the moment even more special. You remember the way you hopped on stage, only wanting to be held in his arms and unable to let go. Eventually, you did and Mark got down on one knee with the ring that he had prepared for this moment. Reminiscing the time always made you chuckle and Mark pouted and groaned, knowing that you were lost in that time once more. 

A kiss lands on his lips, wiping the pout effectively from his lips, “It’s perfect because it was you, Markie.”

Renjun is pacing around the room, making sure the decorations are placed at their designated spots properly. He would circle the room countless times, making sure the flowers were fresh and presented in the way that he liked whilst his hands busied themselves with playing with the case of your ring; that he hopes will be on your fourth finger soon.

Mark massages his shoulder, relieving his body tension. Jaemin has his camera ready to take pictures whenever he can, making sure not to interfere with the small bubble that Renjun would create with you. Jisung, being more responsible than the older members most of the time stands still with a proud look on his face while Chenle gives him a thumbs up along with Jeno as well. Haechan is just as encouraging; Renjun’s threat to make sure he didn’t cause trouble playing in his head.

“I think everything is set up,” Jaemin says as he takes more photos of the venue to add for the memory book.

“You’re playing a very important role here,” Haechan comments, a hand resting on his hand, “Don’t mess it up.”

Jaemin replies with a slightly menacing smile, “Don’t mess with me, Lee Haechan.”

“To be honest, everything will go well as long as Renjun doesn’t go blank as soon as she walks in,” Chenle teases the older boy at how in love and speechless Renjun would be around you.

“True,” Mark gives him an encouraging thumbs up, “But you’ll be fine. She’ll be here any minute now actually.”

You received instructions through text from Jeno about meeting at a place, a dress code and a time “when you should open the door (don’t open it before!)”. The text is odd and when asking Renjun about it, the tips of his ears growing red from each passing second tell you that he does know what’s going on but it's cleer he wouldn't tell. You couldn’t ask any more questions after he pulled your face into his for a quick kiss, hushing you from any more questions. 

When you walked in, outfit in line with the theme of the room and matching with his, Renjun’s heart melted once more, falling in love with you all over again. You slowly walk towards your boyfriend, eyes flickering around the area and taking in the decorations as well as giving the boys a smile and greeting back. When Renjun is infront of you, he playfully bows, momentarily stumbling and losing his balance. You cup his cheeks when he lifts his head, kissing his lips, not bothering about the camera capturing it all. 

“W-Woah,” Renjun stumbles with his words, “That was nice.” 

“This whole place is nice, Junnie,” your boyfriend is relieved by your words, “You look beyond nice, by the way.”

Few minutes later, Renjun takes his position on the floor and Jaemin captures it the memories with his camera: the way it dawned on you that he's proposing, to when you finally sealed Renjun’s love and to the way Renjun takes your lips after. 

Jaemin smiles behind the camera, capturing all the moments to make a physical memory of it all.

Including getting extremely closer than he said he wouldn’t take a better picture of the band around your finger.

“So this is why you made me dress up?” Taking in the fragrance of the flowers that Jisung gave as a token of congratulations from the rest of the boys.

Renjun nods, “You look beautiful, by the way.”

Jeno and his little smile that would reach his eyes. That was one of the first reasons why you fell for Jeno but to him, it’s his default expression whenever he sees, thinks of hears anything related to you. At the start of your relationship, he’s shy about receiving and giving you affection but you didn’t mind initiating the skinship, hugging and pecking his cheeks that would gradually lean towards his lips. He loves the skinship from you even in front of the rest of the boys who would tease him about it.

“She loves you,” Jaemin wiggles his eyebrows at the goodbye kiss you gave him.

“I love her more,” he replies, his eyes filled with heart shapes.

As the relationship developed and you got a little place with him, Jeno would slowly be the one who initiated the skinship, hugging your waist to sleep and keeping you close to him whenever he could. Even outside, he would be the one to link your hands together first and show his love through the bouquet of flowers from the start of any date.

“These bouquets just keep growing bigger and bigger each time in my opinion,” twirling the gift around in your hand while the other is in Jeno’s.

Your boyfriend kissed your head, “It didn’t really change from the first one, bubs.” Content with the little giggle you gave as he watched the elevator take you both to the floor where he booked the last dinner where you would be his girlfriend and the last anniversary as boyfriend and girlfriend; the start of a new title to the both of you.

His hand is stashed in his pocket where the ring is and he couldn’t help but gulp nervousnessly. The dinner went smoothly with the courses that Jeno pre-ordered and throughout the whole date, he loves the way you fill the atmosphere with the times that you didn’t spend together for the day, him updating you on his day too. He would never be tired of hearing your voice and the eye smile on him is a clear indication of that.

“I’m going to go to the restroom,” Jeno says as he kisses the back of your hand. He approaches one of the workers there, asking for the largest bouquet that he has ever given you in their back room where he dropped it off hours before the dinner. 

You’re preoccupied with taking pictures of the view from the windows that span from the floor to the ceiling but your boyfriend’s reaction comes into view and your phone screen rests on the table once again, ready to greet him. What you didn’t expect is when Jeno kneeled to one knee, arms outstretching the flowers he had with the opened box nestling between its petals.

“Jeno?” You asked him, tears beginning to fill up your eyes.

“I thought it would be nice to ask here, at this place. We always spent our anniversaries here and even today,” happy with how the corner of your lips rises with the event, “Will you marry me?”

It took you less than a millisecond to respond with a nod and a loud “Yes”. When Jeno stood from his position, your arms were immediately wrapped around his, hiding your lower face behind his shoulder.

“I thought you were shy.” 

“I am,” heat rising to his cheeks, “But I wanted to make this special for my very special girl.”

The Dreamies have never seen Haechan so nervous before. It bought them back to the times when he was crushing on you, blushing and being giddy all the time at the thought of you. They remember how Haechan was asking Jaemin for advice for the outfit on your first date that you prepared, and he rocked up with something really formal for a casual date, mixing up the place for the restaurant as a similar four-star restaurant. It would be something that not only you would tease him about, but when news spread to the Dreamies, they used it as the main thing to tease him about whenever he was being mischievous. It did die down quickly as after learning that the memory is very fond to you, the teasing wouldn’t work against him anymore.

The necklace that Haechan gifted you that day would be a reminder of the happiness that he has been giving you from the start of the journey and just like the sun pendant that reminds you of him, you love how just a glance of it knocks out all your worries that life may have weighed you down with. 

It all seemed to be a recent memory, but that was quite a long time ago for everyone who knew what happened. Now, Haechan is waiting for you to come back home after a night out with your friends and earlier in the day, the boy who was pacing around the room about what to wear to his first date with now is now pacing around the jewellery store on the perfect ring on your hand. 

He talked with the boys about his proposal plan to which the others have chipped in and helped him with. In the end, some of their advice is taken on board, but most of them made him grip his hair and made him say, “I’m just going to wing it.”

To which Mark replied with, “Sure, dude. If it doesn’t go ‘well’, it’s another thing to tease you about.” 

In all seriousness though, he wants the proposal to be perfect; just like how you are to him. He plops down on the bed, raising the box to the ceiling as he looks at the diamond he worked hard for. At the sound of the front door creaking and your voice greeting him from the other side of the house, he pockets the jewellery in his sweatpants, jumping from the cotton to greet you.

Your arms were outstretched and Haechan brings you to his embrace immediately, “How was your day?”

“So good,” your voice muffled with the hug, “We bought friendship rings,” pushing him away slightly to show him, “We thought about this so much but we thought it’s so pretty that we couldn’t not get it.”

You realised that as much as Haechan smiled at the decoration around your finger, it didn’t go unnoticed that he was playing with the hem of your jacket. An eyebrow perks up from that and you give him a kiss on his cheek, asking him what was wrong.

He took a deep breath, took the box from his pockets, got down to one knee and opened the jewellery to you for the first time, “Marry me,” he started, “Carry a part of me wherever you go too.”

Growing up, you were never able to have pets. Your dad is allergic to cats, one of the pets that you’ve always wanted, and your mum isn’t sure of how well the family would take care of another life due to how busy life is. You totally agree with her because pets should be well taken care of as much as any other kind of life form.

When you and Jaemin were financially ready to get a place for yourselves, one of his first promises was to get a pet that you wanted. Through motivation and a lot of saving, making sure that you were both ready to take care of another life and doing all the research on how to take care of cats, you and Jaemin finally adopted a pet to take care of. Jaemin is also thankful for the added company in the house as your work schedule wouldn’t match with his and that would mean that one of you would be alone in the house. Having another pet would make the house more lively and less lonely. With gradual time and more financial stability, you were able to adopt two more that you both love equally. 

“We should get another one,” you comment as Jaemin turns off the bedroom lights.

Your boyfriend hums at your thoughts, knowing exactly what you mean. He slips into the covers, hooking an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to his warmth, “You really love taking care of others, don’t you?”

You close your eyes and hum a response, exhaling at the comfort of him next to you. “You know how I am.”

“I do, bubs. I do,” and he really does. With how your eyes light up whenever you take care of the people around you, always loving how you’re able to help out others whether it be him, your family, his family or the three cats that are sleeping soundly in the living room, it comes naturally that he’s thought of settling down with you permanently for the rest of his life; and having a little mini you or mini him later down the track. Similar talks have happened in the relationship and he thought that it would be perfect to make it happen soon.

No more words were said that night but Jaemin kissed a final kiss onto your soft lips and made a mental note to prepare for another life chapter with you. A few days later, he was able to speed through his work, being able to finish early to see the ring that he had been monitoring through the website. As soon as his eyes landed on it, he immediately thought of you and that’s how he made his final decision to buy it.

Thankfully, you had a later end to your work today and that gave Jaemin enough time to prepare a small, quick dinner as well as dressing the three cats into little outfits that would be fitting to wear in a wedding. 

“Come on, Luna,” he says as he struggles to get her paw in, “I don’t have a lot of time and I want to make mummy proud!” With this, the cat seemed to comply instantly and Jaemin squished the cat’s cheeks in thankfulness.

With each cat, he securely attached a note on their ventral side: Love, Marry, Me, and plans to release each cat one by one from the bedroom when you come in. Jaemin just made it in time, quickly scooping up all the cats into his arms, and rushing to hide in the bedroom.

“I’m home!” You routinely shouted, “Nana?” Confused about why the house was so quiet, especially when knowing that Jaemin finished work a long time ago. “Maybe he went out and forgot to tell me?” But that’s quickly proved wrong when pipping hot homemade food were neatly set out on the table. “Luna! Lucy! Luke!” Calling out to your three cats, wondering how none of them rushed to the door like they usually would.

Suddenly, the door to your room opens and you gasp, scared that an intruder is in your house but out comes all your three cats in different, cute attires. “Oh!” Kneeling on the floor to get a better look at them, “Did dadda do this? Hm?” Picking up Luna with his little white dress, rubbing your nose on hers. “What’s this?” Reading the ‘Love’ message on her stomach. You set Lucy down, picking up Lucy in a similar outfit, “Marry…” Your eyes widened, looking at a groom-like dressed Luke who sat patiently, licking the back of his exposed paw. Sure enough, the final and last note makes your jaw drop.

Jaemin emerges from your bedroom, smiling at how you look up at him in shock. He kneels on the floor, “I was supposed to let them out one by one but they got excited," he shrugs with a smile. "As much as I would love another pet,” he hinges the velvet box open, “If you would like to, I would also love a mini you or mini-me.” A hand rises to your gaped mouth, eyes staring at the cushioned ring. “But first, will you marry me?”

It seems that Luna, Lucy and Luke were on board with the idea, jumping on your lap and resting their little paws on your arms. Sure enough, you nod and verbally express your actions. The “Yes” is all Jaemin took to carefully place the three nosy cats away from you, sliding the new ring on your hand and pulling you into a kiss.

During ring shopping, Chenle would look around the places he could find and spend a lot of time window shopping on all the rings that were available in your size. He invited Jisung along on the journey and the younger boy was more stressed than him with how he was handling the situation. From the very first store, he already has about five rings that he’s thinking would be perfect for you. Jisung gave his input on each one which Chenle is thankful for, but did minimal in narrowing down the options. He even asked the other members, but it was still the same result. 

In the end, after visiting all the stores that he had listed, Chenle purchased about ten rings from each store. The employees are used to customers who are stuck between multiple choices as a symbol of love for their partner. But they weren’t prepared for Chenle to cross his arms, calmly exhale point to the rings and say, “I’ll just take them all.” 

Jisung tried to save his wallet but after deep thinking and checking the return policy, he decided to buy all the ones that his heart couldn't let go of. He'll figure out what to do with the rest of the diamonds later. Because of his massive purchase, on the day of the proposal, he looked calm and collected but inside, his heart was beating like he just ran a marathon. It was running so fast to the point that you asked him if there was something troubling him when you laid on his chest to sleep last night. Chenle shook his head firmly but from the way his finger trembled a little when he was patting your head, you couldn’t help but to question him once more.

“It’s not a big deal, I promise.”

After some time, your raised eyebrows relaxed, “Okay. Tell me if it weighs too much and whenever you’re ready, okay?”

And he’s so excited to tell you what is on his mind soon. The thought of finally being able to spoil the love of his life for the rest of his life excited him so much that with the boxes looking similar across the stores, he didn't realise that he also grabbed the one that he hadn't decided on the previous night. When you nodded to his proposal, too stunned and speechless from happiness to speak, the different ring to his expectations when he opened the velvet box made him let out the famous Pikachu face. 

“What?” You chuckled and tilted your head in confusion at his reaction, completely unaware of the boxes hidden under the bed. 

“N-Nothing,” well, it looks like he'll explain later but with the happiness written on your face and the kisses you showered him with, maybe he'll just gift the rest of the spares to you.

“Don't be so nervous,” a hit lands on the side of Jisung’s arm from Chenle, “She'll love this.”

In the early stages of dating, you were always sharing your date plans with him, planning most of them. You made sure Jisung didn’t mind them because being in a relationship isn’t only about one person. Jisung loves the way you talk enthusiastically about all the places you want to go with him and all the activities that you want to do with him. Jisung would give you that adorable gummy smile, eyes shaped like crescent moons whenever he did so. Those small event plans became more detailed, expanding into different topics naturally such as proposals, weddings and honeymoon places and Jisung being in love with everything about you, would mentally take notes of what you love for each occasion.

“I promise,” Jisung stops your words for a second, “We will do them all together.”

There was a time he was caught writing it all down on his phone to which Chenle teased him endlessly, the other Dreamies joining along at their youngest being in love. It’s not that he will forget the things that make you happy, he just wants to be able to see it all so that he can plan the perfect proposal. They promised to help him with every step when he was ready. 

Today is that day.

Jaemin tells him that the hinge of the engagement ring’s box would eventually break with how much he’s fiddling with it but it’s the only way he could distract his nervousness.

“Maybe you should recite your speech once more,” Jeno clears his throat, opening the paper in his hand.

“Jeno loves Jisung, guys. Look at him,” Haechan teased his same-aged friend. His bear-like friend would chase him around the room and Jisung would be shouting at the two to be aware of the decorations around the room.

You came in through the chaos, the door opening inwards where Haechan stops abruptly to avoid his face smashing against the wood and Jeno back hugged him as a result of that. You peeked behind the door, confused but smiling at the two. Before you could question what was going on, Renjun kicked Haechan out the door and welcomed you in.

“He’s not prepared for this,” pointing at your boyfriend who hides behind Jaemin. “Stay here while I talk to Haechan for ruining this moment.”

But the moment wasn’t ruined at all because just looking at how your Pinterest board came into life and the boys slowly giving Jisung the spotlight while you walked down towards him, everything is indeed beautiful and perfect.

“Oh wow,” you breathed out, “It's like my Pinterest came to life.”

Hearing that is the biggest compliment to Jisung who spent hours analysing your saved folders of wedding venue inspirations, trying to find a consistent theme. He gifted the teddy bear on his hand to you, pecking your lips and pulling away with a deep red blush across his cheeks. He readies himself to his rehearsed position after, “Will you marry…me?” Endeared by the way you hide your face behind the teddy bear. Yet, your answer is clear without your words.

Just like how he gives you a kiss on the lips with a “Yes” from you and the silver band around your finger that sealed your happily ever after.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here or removed!): @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿

[villainbait]

Dangerous Intentions

Pairing: bodyguard!au Sylus x heiress!reader Rating: T | Teen | 16+ Tags: crack, fluff, angst if you squint, tension, secondhand embarrassment, mc!reader is a spoiled brat, bodyguard!sylus, bodyguard sylus au, teasing, verbal teasing, playful teasing, hair washing, sylus washes your hair Summary: Sylus is your bodyguard and it's time to go home.   Word Count: 2k

A/N: I'm so sorry I'm feral for Sylus throwing the reader over his shoulder. It will happen again. @obahajimarkkeu I hope this satisfies a little of that bodyguard!au craving you have. Thank you for tagging me, it was fun to write this. c: ♥

“Get up.” A large, calloused hand plucks the book you were using to hide your eyes and sleep off of your face. You wince at the sudden brightness, blinking blearily up at the person who disturbed your cat nap before immediately scowling when you see it’s Sylus. 

It had been two weeks since the last time someone had attempted to kidnap you and your dad had had enough. His solution? Hiring this…pretty boy. Sure, Sylus looked big and physically tough, but he was so painfully handsome that you wonder if his only skill was dazzling his opponents with that face of his. The other women at your school had been annoyingly persistent since he started accompanying you every day, asking you so many questions about him you wanted to tear your hair out.

“Go away." You tried to snatch the book back but he held it out of reach. "Aren’t you supposed to, like, lurk in the shadows or something?” 

“Yeah and I was happy to do that until I received a call that your presence is requested at home.” The scowl vanished and you sighed dejectedly, slumping further into the chair of your college’s library. 

“Now I want to leave even less.” 

“Tough luck, princess.” Sylus sounded bored, checking his phone. When you didn’t move, he leaned down and grabbed your arm, trying to tug you firmly out of your seat. “Let’s go.” 

“No.” You gave him a petulant look and put all your weight onto the chair.

Sylus sighed. “Do we really have to do it this way?” 

“Do what–” A squeak left your lips as Sylus plucked you from your chair and hoisted you over your shoulder without warning. Your surprised outrage made your classmates turn and stare, which only made you poorly attempt to hide your face. “Put me down!” You hissed, punching him somewhere around the kidney. Sylus grunted but scooped up your bag and started walking towards the exit without releasing you. People stopped to stare and your face heated with embarrassment. This was seriously shaping out to be the worst day ever.

“Seriously, I can walk–Sylus!” You tried to kick your feet but Sylus wrapped an arm around your thighs to hold you still and you froze at the feel of his warm skin against yours. You shouldn’t have worn the skirt today, but it was too late to regret that now. 

When he finally got back to his car he opened the door and practically dumped you into the backseat. Before you could make a scathing remark, Sylus shoves your bag into your face and leans into the backseat; looming over you with a disgruntled expression. 

“Be a good girl and stay quiet.” He slammed the door shut and rounded the car, sliding smoothly into the front seat. The purr of the engine roared to life in the silence and surprisingly you listened to him. Not because he told you to, but because you couldn’t think of anything to say, replaying the entire humiliating scene over in your head the whole way home. 

A little while later, you came out of your dad’s office looking wilted and dejected to the point that Sylus almost felt bad for you. That was, until you caught his pitying glance and snapped, “What do you want?” Well, now he doesn’t feel as bad for you anymore. 

When he doesn’t rise to your bait, you seem to deflate a little. “Forget it.” You wave him off and trudge up to your room. Opening the door, it was easy to see why Sylus called you a princess, your room looking like something straight out of some fantasy period. A big round bed sat to the left and its gauzy canopy invited all manner of mischief as they fluttered in the wind from the open window above an alcove. The soft colors of the room were airy but still carried a hint of decadence, the soft lilac and muted cream a contrast from the garish pink that such room designs usually boasted. 

You tried to slam the door in Sylus’s face but he caught it easily, chuckling as he followed you inside and closing it with a gentle snap. This was the part you still hadn’t gotten used to. The last kidnapping attempt had taken place from within your bedroom, so you weren’t allowed privacy even in this sacred space. 

“...Can’t you wait outside, just this once?” You asked quietly, the desire to be alone so you could process the events from today overriding your desire to be a brat.

Sylus clicked his tongue, waltzing over to the alcove and glancing out of the open window. “I can't do that, princess.” You scoffed at the nickname and grabbed your things to take a bath in the adjoining room, determined to be alone one way or another. “Wait,” Sylus’s arm shot out to stop you. “Let me check it first.” 

“If you’re so worried, just sit with me while I take a bath.” You blurted and the bold suggestion was meant to be biting, but the perk of Sylus’s eyebrow made you realize the other implication or whatever. A slow smirk spreads across his face as if you’ve finally said something interesting. “Sure, why not.” 

“I-” You didn’t want to back down now but this was quickly getting out of hand. 

Sylus chuckles at your defiance but doesn’t relent, following you into the bathroom after giving all the clear. He had been nice and ran the water while he was checking and the bathtub was almost full. It, like the rest of your bedroom, was fit for royalty. It was perched on a small dais. 

“At least turn around while I get undressed,” you huffed and expected Sylus to make some comment about how he needed to see you at all times. Instead, he surprised you by turning on his heel without argument and withdrawing his phone.

After what seems like forever and hearing the soft splashing sounds from behind him, Sylus talks to the wall. “Are you sure you don’t want my help?” 

“Unless you’re gonna wash my hair, just stay facing the wall the whole time.”  

“Is that what you want?” Sylus can’t keep the mirth from his tone as he hears the splash of your body sinking into the water. He appears nonchalant, scrolling casually through an app. “Surely, someone as spoiled as you can manage even that much.” 

“Shut up.” You retorted lamely and reached for your shampoo bottle…only to find it empty. The urge to throw the bottle at Sylus’s back was tempting, but his idea of retaliation when you’re stuck in the bath like this was enough to keep you from doing something that stupid for now. Instead, you summoned your courage and put on your nicest voice. 

“Sylus.~” You sang sweetly and saw him visibly tense. His words were deceptively calm. “What is it?” “Can you get me the bottle of shampoo under the sink…pretty please?” Your saccharine words dripped in a way that was disconcerting, the juvenile way of saying please making Sylus recoil slightly, but he was never one to back down from a challenge; even with bait as obvious as this. Ever since your father introduced you as his new charge, Sylus couldn’t help but tease you at every turn. 

“If you wanted me to wash your hair that badly, you didn’t have to pour the entire bottle in the bath with you.” He raised an eyebrow. “You could’ve just asked.” 

“That’s not–It was already empty–I would never!” The more you protested, the redder your face got at Sylus’s implication. “Do you really think I’d do something like that?” 

He doesn’t answer, letting you stew in your malcontent. Sylus finds it cute how demanding you are in one breath, yet so flustered the next. It makes him want to mess with you even more and he slowly saunters over to where you held your arm stretched out, waving it pointedly for the bottle. 

He sat it just out of reach and you blustered, sinking back into the safety of your bath water. “What are you doing?” 

“I told you I’d wash your hair for you, didn’t I?” He shrugged out of his jacket and laid it across the counter.

“What if you get your clothes wet?” You asked. 

Sylus shrugged nonchalantly. “They’re just clothes.” 

He began to roll up his shirtsleeves and the way his veins stand out on his powerful forearms made you realize just how vulnerable you were in the bath alone with him. There was a heady sense of anticipation in the air when he kneeled next to the tub, new bottle in hand. 

“Turn around.” His voice was gentle, almost intimate and you complied without argument for once. He lathered shampoo in his hands and you jumped when his fingers slid through your hair and began to massage your scalp.

“I thought you’d be used to something like this, princess.” Sylus teased and you tried to turn your head to glare at him but he forced you to keep your head straight. “Of course not, no one’s washed my hair for as long as I can remember.” You don’t know why, but it sounded sad and a little pathetic when you said it out loud. His hands paused at your words, soapy and tangled in your hair. You made a soft noise of impatience that seemed to snap him out of whatever faraway thought he had and he resumed his task.

The way his fingers feel at every pass of your nape makes you shiver, curious if Sylus is aware and touching such a sensitive spot on purpose. Your thoughts drift dangerously and you fantasize how his fingers would feel massaging other parts of your body with the same thorough care. Before you can stop yourself, a soft moan escapes your lips and you feel him freeze behind you. You forget how to breathe and sit there, frantically trying to figure out what you could possibly say that wasn’t the truth. You’d die before admitting to Sylus what it was you had been thinking about.

Sylus gently disentangles his hands from your hair and you still haven’t said anything, but neither has he. His fingers trail in the water to rinse them, before dipping beneath them and you gasp when his fingers ghost along the top of your thigh. 

“You should be more aware of men, sweetheart.” He leaned in so close you could feel the flutter of his breath against your ear and you swear you felt the ghost of his lips on your throat, but maybe you just imagined it. You sucked in a sharp breath at last, but your question was a strangled whisper.

“With you around, do I really have any reason to be worried?”

Sylus didn’t answer, his sanguine gaze roving over your body partially obscured by the milky water. It felt like he could see everything with the way he stared, but you didn’t move away or cover yourself. A tense silence stretched between the two of you, punctuated by the soft sounds of your mingled breathing. 

His brow furrowed and he withdrew. “You can do the rest yourself, can’t you?” The warmth ebbed from his voice and his gaze grew cold, withdrawing from the bath and leaving the room abruptly; the door snapping so loud it made you jump. His rejection stung worse than the news of another threat against your life your dad had received earlier, and you sank down into the milky depths to soothe your injured pride.

As the water cooled, you were starting to wonder if having Sylus as your bodyguard was the most dangerous of all.

[hazelnutsforellie]

Can you plsssss write ellie with an inexperienced reader and helping them through their first time? (doesn’t have to be specific) maybe ellie is kissing readers neck and they pull away kind of harshly but then ellie helps them feel good

IDK IDK THE THOUGHT CAME TO ME I NEED IT NOWWWW

melanchole | e. williams ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

PAIRING— modern!ellie williams x afab or fem!reader

SUMMARY— your best friend, ellie, has a hard time controlling her anger when it comes to you, accidentally revealing her feelings for you in the process.

WARNINGS— NSFW, smut [18+], mutual pining, angst & fluff, protective ellie, alcohol use, ellie gets in a fight, mentions of blood & small wounds, top!ellie, inexperienced bottom!reader, reader is kinda shy & quiet, thigh grinding, fingering (r rec), oral (r rec), multi-orgasm [2], overstim, praise, pet names, kinda proofread.

WC— 5.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE— ty for the request, anon!! i wasn't sure if you meant the reader's first time with a girl or in general so i did in general. feedback is always appreciated, pls don't be shy!! ♡

You shifted in the passenger seat of Ellie's car as you watched the tree line to your right, when the streetlights allowed it. Neither of you spoke as the soft pattering of the rain provided just enough noise to keep Ellie at ease. You weren't particularly... happy with her, or her actions. You'd planned to have a nice outing like you do every Saturday night, but something had shifted.

Your train of thought began to shift as you ran through the events in your head that caused such a dent.

It was too quick, too swift. The burning of the alcohol coursing through your veins along with the thumping of the music in the background continued to ramp up your adrenaline with each passing second. Standing in the kitchen of the frat party, you were a few feet behind Ellie, and a guy you'd never seen before was lying on the floor in front of her.

In one moment Ellie toward the kitchen to get more drinks. In there, you found said guy standing by the sink. The next moment, he began making disgusting comments about you. In Ellie's opinion, at least. To you, he simply complimented you.

Of course, after hearing his flirtatious comment, Ellie immediately stepped in and snapped at him to fuck off. Unbeknownst to anyone, the guy has major anger issues. As does Ellie. This only made things worse, causing the guy to snap back with much more venom.

Ellie had a difficult time controlling her anger issues, and when you were in the mix, there was no way she was going to be able to hold herself back. So Ellie, infamous for her inability to control her anger when it came to you, threw the first punch. Before you knew it, Ellie was towering over him, fingers twitching as her chest heaved. He was down, and Ellie knew it was smart to leave him as is, but she was unable to step away on her own.

The circle surrounding you three was growing larger and the loud whispers and stares were becoming overwhelming for you and once he stood up, wiping the blood from his top lip, you were able to ground yourself. Grabbing Ellie's wrist, you pulled her away from the scene, your plan to have a night out being cut short. Ellie made sure to glare at him until he was out of sight.

The entire drive back to her place was silent as you replayed the events in your head. Ellie was driving with her right hand on the top of the wheel, her other resting on her forehead as she leaned against the door. Neither of you had yet to say anything, getting in the car and silently agreeing to go to Ellie’s dorm, your prime hangout since she had a single room.

Ellie absentmindedly chewed on her lower lip as she too repeated the events in her head, her eyes piercing forward. She was angry, but not as angry as before. She was angry with herself. She couldn't believe she'd let herself snap in front of you, convincing herself that she'd ruined the entire evening when she could've just walked away.

That’s what you couldn’t shake.

She could’ve just walked away.

You knew Ellie was protective of you, given you’re her best friend, but it felt different. There was more than what you could see on the surface, which was slowly piercing through the more the two of you stayed silent. Sure, if the guy had actually made a rude comment at first, you would’ve been able to understand her behavior much easier. You felt completely sober the more you thought about it, becoming bolder.

"What was that?" you broke the silence, causing Ellie to nearly smile, though she was able to control it. She thought it was cute how you always wanted to cut to the chase, but she didn't want to with this situation. Not at all.

"Can we just wait 'till we get there?" Ellie managed, retightening her grip on the wheel. Despite the darkness that allowed little to no light inside the car, you were able to see Ellie’s swollen knuckles as she gripped the wheel. Seeing this, you swallowed thickly and quickly averted your gaze through the windshield.

Ellie could tell that you were frustrated, it was evident in your body language. When you would turn your head and look out the window, Ellie would steal a glance of you. She wanted to see you, but she didn't want to make eye contact. She felt embarrassed, scared, too many things. On the inside, Ellie began to panic, realizing that she had to have an actual explanation.

Ellie kept her eyes forward as she led you down the quiet hallway, stopping before her door to unlock it. Of course, Ellie let you in first before stepping inside and closing the door behind her. Ellie's dorm wasn't spacious but it wasn't tiny either, having just enough space for her bed, a small living area, kitchen, and bathroom.

Ellie had numerous posters and wall décor decorating her walls, adding life to the dull cream-colored paint. She had comfy furniture that encapsulated her personality quite well, in your opinion. You both were silent as you kicked your shoes off, finding a place to put your things as Ellie peeled her jacket off, leaving herself in a hoodie and jeans. You followed her actions, still avoiding eye contact as you hung your jacket by the door, next to hers.

You watched her back as she made her way into her private bathroom, leaving the door open as she stopped in front of the sink, twisting the faucet on. She was too focused on scrubbing her hands to notice you watching her, watching the water become a light tint of crimson after running over her skin.

You kicked your shoes off by the door before following her, stopping in the doorway of the bathroom just a foot away from Ellie's right elbow. Your eyes were glued to her hands in the sink to the right, watching her rinse them clean. You finally looked up and into the mirror, instantly meeting Ellie's bright green eyes and the dark bruise that was forming on her right cheek.

"Holy fuck," you breathed, grabbing her chin to turn her face into her direction, finally meeting full eye contact for the first time since you left the party. Ellie's bottom lip jutted out as if she was going to say something, but nothing came as her eyes casted to the side while you examined her bruised face. "I didn't even see him get one in."

"He barely did," Ellie mumbled, her eyes finally flicking to yours. In contrast to her words, she had one, two, three scrapes from the guy's rings when he got one good punch to her eye. Her cockiness made you lightly chuckle, but your smile quickly fell as you released your grasp on her chin, your hand faltering back to your side. Ellie's eyelashes fluttered after the warm contact of your skin left hers, making her clear her throat as she leaned for the towel on the counter, drying her hands off.

You let out a sigh, grabbing a fresh rag from a folded pile on the corner of the counter. You knew that Ellie was going to be too stubborn to take care of herself. Ellie's eyes followed your movements, watching as you grabbed the washcloth before twisting the faucet on. You held the rag under the lukewarm water, soaking it as Ellie's eyes trailed the side of your face and down your neck before hearing you turn the faucet back off.

You were both silent as Ellie leaned her left hip against the counter, watching you wring the rag out, into the sink. There was a clear tension. The unusual silence wasn't due to the fight itself. It was because of the reason. You'd never witnessed her be so openly protective of you, mainly because she never had to be.

As much as you hated to admit it, you liked it. You didn't think it was okay for Ellie to throw her fist around, but you couldn't help but feel your stomach begin to twist in fluttery knots the more you thought about how angry she became, practically shielding you from the random guy at the party before they began throwing punches.

After wringing the rag out, you looked back up to Ellie's face, her eyes already staring as you began to dab the rag on the scrapes within her bruise, trying your best to avoid hurting her. Ellie gently grunted, closing her eyes as you wiped the her cheekbone clean. You only assumed it was from the guy's rings, leaving scrapes deep enough to leave a burn but not bleed too much.

The obvious red mark was already turning blue, and you had to admit that she looked hot that way. Ellie's eyes fluttered back open to meet your hooded eyelids as the pressure of the rag became softer, your eyes still focusing on her skin. She didn't care if you caught her, where else was she supposed to look? She wanted to say something, but she was at a loss for words. The silence was comfortable, you both just couldn't stop your minds from racing. Once you were done, you gave Ellie a nod before pulling your arm back.

"I got it," Ellie said, extending her arm out with an open hand. You placed the rag in her palm with a nod before gently turning on your heels, making your way over to the couch while she finished up. You didn't want to hound her, sensing that she didn't know how to approach the situation yet. You pulled one of her throw blankets over your frame, leaving yourself uncovered from your chest up.

Ellie felt her body relax as you distanced, being able to collect herself and her thoughts as she rinsed the rag out. There was no doubt that the alcohol coursing through Ellie's veins was partially at fault for her irrational decisions. Of course, both of you felt sober long before you got to the dorm.

You were pulled back from your thoughts as you saw the bathroom light flick off, Ellie emerging from the smaller room, toward the couch. Her couch was not the average three-seater, and was more of a loveseat. You had taken the left side, your usual spot, making yourself comfortable into the corner as you waited for Ellie to sit down.

Ellie sat close to the edge of the couch, not facing you as she usually would. Usually, she preferred sitting face-to-face, but she didn't want to face you as she talked about the situation at hand. So instead, she was sitting up with her elbows on her knees, manspreading as she her mind continued to run. You noticed there were new bandages on her knuckles that she applied after you left the bathroom, seeing that her index and middle finger of her right hand were free of such bandages. You nearly groaned at yourself for your thoughts, knowing it was not an appropriate time.

Ellie knew she had to tell you how she felt about you. She was just terrified. She couldn't imagine losing you because you couldn't reciprocate her feelings and felt like you needed to distance yourself from her. No, she couldn't handle the thought of that. She needed you.

"So..." you softly trailed off, crossing your arms over your chest as you felt yourself warm up underneath the blanket. This action caused your breasts to lift and show more cleavage, which was the root cause of the fight to begin with. Ellie saw it in the corner of her eye, tightening her grip on her hands. You knew that you had to go full force and just get straight to the point, sensing that Ellie would do everything she could to beat around the bush. She seemed extremely nervous, and much less angry than before. "Why did you hit him?"

Ellie felt a breath fall from her lips, having expected you to jump to the point, but secretly hoping you would change the subject. Ellie didn't overthink her thoughts, knowing that it was best to just be free with her answers.

"I didn't like what he said," Ellie explained, gently fiddling with her hands as her eyes darted around the room. You watched this, your eyes focusing on the side of her face as suddenly nothing else in the room mattered other than her.

"Ellie... he said 'I love your shirt'..." you trailed off with a smirk, which made Ellie want to instantly roll her eyes. She didn't think you dressed slutty or anything, she just knew that the guy was googling at your cleavage. She saw his gaze before he even spoke, hence why she snapped at him so quickly.

"He was checking you out," Ellie explained, twisting her wrist to expose her open palm in a way to express her frustration. You were surprised that she was quick to continue. "Before you even saw him he was staring at you."

"Is he not allowed to do that?" you quirked a brow, earning a soft scoff from Ellie in return as she finally turned her head to meet your eyes, her elbows remaining on her thighs as a strand of loose hair fall over her face. It was a serious yet sarcastic question, you wanted to know what Ellie meant.

"No, that's... that's not what I mean," she stammered, beginning to fiddle with her hands again. "He was looking at your chest as soon as we walked in the kitchen... I just, I just knew what he really meant."

You leaned forward, Ellie's nervousness becoming quite obvious as she softly twisted her slender fingers. Ellie kept her eyes on yours as you leaned closer to her, the skin between your eyebrows folding as you parted your lips to speak, your mind continuing to run as you thought about the events again. Still, you couldn't understand why she hit him.

"You could've walked away... Ellie, you broke his nose and kept going," you stated the obvious, making Ellie turn her head forward again to avoid your stare. It was hard to look you in the eye, especially under such circumstances.

You shook your head, softly grabbing Ellie's chin to turn her head back in your direction, meeting her green orbs once again.

"Don't do that," you nearly ordered, wanting Ellie to stop avoiding. You had to admit, you had a pretty good idea as to what she was thinking, and unbeknownst to you, you were right. Ellie had feelings for you, as you did for her. You understood why she did what she did, even though it's not an excuse.

Suddenly, neither of you had anything to say. Eyes glued to each other, you didn't notice Ellie's chest slowly begin to heave in shaky breaths. Oh, how she just wanted to kiss you.

"Yeah, I broke his nose. I'd do it again," Ellie murmured back, her eyes never leaving yours. You were not expecting her to say such things, feeling your chest lock as your heat began to burn with arousal. Ellie's shift from being nervous and quiet to blunt and nonchalant stunned you, making you squeeze your thighs together as you continued to sit up with your knees close to your chest, still leaning into her.

Ellie turned her body in your direction and leaned into you, her eyebrows softly knitting together. She saw it. She saw the way your legs tensed and your thighs clench together, how could she not? Even though her eyes were boring into yours, she was paying attention to every movement you made.

Ellie's eyes left yours to cast down to your lips, glancing at the way they were parted. She then looked back up to your eyes, which were silently pleading for her to kiss you. You didn't lean back, continuing to lean into her as to provoke her. You let your legs fall so that your knees weren't up but folded, your ankles hanging off the couch so that you and Ellie were practically in the same position, facing each other.

Ellie didn't care to hide her need for you, knowing her feelings were now obvious to you. She just didn't know if you wanted her just as much as she wanted you.

"So a guy can't say anything about me when you're around?" you continued to provoke her, causing the heat in Ellie's lower half to warm as she thought about you being hers. You noticed Ellie's eyebrows twitch, as she was slightly taken aback by your comment, knowing what you were trying to do.

"What are you doing?" she murmured, her voice sounding like gravel coated in honey as a smirk began to break on her lips, your doe eyes never leaving hers. Or her bruise. Fuck, her bruise. It turned you on more than you'd liked to admit.

"I'm just asking if I should start holding your hand to make you feel better, or..." you slowly teased in a joking manner as a smile began to tug the corner of your own lips. Ellie's heart was pounding in her chest, her veins burning with desire as she lost control of herself, unable to hold herself back from making a move at least once.

Ellie's hands found your cheeks as she pulled your face closer to hers, her eyes glancing from your lips to your eyes before her lips met yours. You could feel the slight scratchiness of the bandages on her hands, nearly making you moan against her lips. Your eyes fluttered closed, the feeling of her wet lips locking with yours causing a fire to burn in your core. Ellie pulled you deep into her, your lips smashing as she then pushed your forward with her body, the both of you sitting up straight as your lips remained locked. You wanted to catch a glimpse of her face, but her tongue was urgent, dipping between your lips as her palms tugged at your jaw. She'd craved you for a long time, and finally being able to kiss you was more than a relief.

Suddenly, Ellie pulled her lips away from yours, but her hands never left your jaw. She glanced into your eyes for a mere moment before tilting her head in the other direction, smashing her lips back onto yours as you then placed your hands on her jaw as well, tugging her into you.

Ellie's hands fell from your cheeks to lean forward, pushing you onto your back with her body as she used her hands to stabilize herself on the loveseat underneath you. She used her right knee to separate your legs, your right leg hanging off the couch as Ellie's upper knee made contact with your clothed heat, causing you to gasp against her lips.

Ellie's lips parted from yours as she looked down at you. Before she could say anything, you softly bucked your hips to grind your core against her thigh, silently telling her that you did like it. She knew you were inexperienced, being your best friend and all, she knew those things. That is partly why she was so protective of you, you realized. She has always been protective of you.

Ellie dipped her head back down, reconnecting her lips with yours as she began to softly grind her knee against your clothed heat, the friction of your jeans causing you to whimper soft noises underneath her. Ellie's grip on the cushions underneath you tightened, a whimper leaving her own lips at the noises you made as she continued to softly grind against your core. You reached to hold onto Ellie's wrist beside your head, from where she was stabilizing herself above you, your nails softly digging into her tattoo as she grinded against you.

"F-fuck," you whispered against her lips, nearly causing her to moan. She relished in the noises you continued to make while she began to trail wet kisses down your neck, the foreign feeling being mixed with her grinding causing a whine to fall from your lips. Ellie retracted, unsure of what you would like since you didn't have any experience with anything sexual involving another person.

"Are you okay?" Ellie asked with heavy breaths as she looked down at you, her bright eyes seeming dark in compliment with her bruise. You nodded, looking up at her through your lashes as you tightened your grip on her wrist. "If you want me to stop, just say the word. I wanna make you feel good, okay?"

You quickly nodded in understanding as Ellie leaned back down to capture your lips with hers again. She then tore her her grip away from the couch to lock her fingers in the belt loops of your jeans, pulling you against her thigh. You needed her, desperately, but you didn't know how to ask, or what to say.

"What do you need, baby?" Ellie asked, noticing the clear begging eyes you portrayed as her hands began trailing your hips. You huffed, bucking your hips against her. Despite never doing such things before, you weren't foreign to the burning desire you felt in your lower half. There have been many occurrences where Ellie did something so little yet effective, such as driving. You'd always have to squeeze your thighs together and look out the window to avoid wanting to pounce her.

You didn't even care that your first time was happening on your best friend's couch. Both of you were too urgent to care, wanting to feel each other after waiting for so, so long.

"Can I take these off?" Ellie asked in a caring tone as she gently tugged the belt loops of your jeans closer, forcing your clothed cunt against her thigh with more pressure than before, which made you want to shiver under her hold. You nodded as you stared into her eyes, a small smile finding their way on her lips in return.

Ellie's fingers found their way to the button of your jeans, loosening them around your waist. You arched your back and lifted your ass, allowing her to pull your jeans off your legs completely, leaving you in your panties and rather-revealing shirt. Ellie's eyes were blown with lust and anticipation, and despite her confident act, her heart was pounding.

Ellie then rearranged to your previous position with her right knee in between your thighs. Ellie's lower thigh made contact with your panties, grazing your clothed bundle of nerves. It felt much different when someone else was doing it, that you could admit.

Ellie applied more pressure as she began to trail wet kisses down the other side of your neck, stopping at your collarbone to begin suckling the sensitive skin. A vulnerable moan fell from your lips and you could feel your cheeks begin to burn in embarrassment, quickly pursing your lips together. Ellie noticed you stop yourself, releasing her tongue from your collarbone to look up at you.

"No, keep going, baby," Ellie encouraged, slipping the fingers of her left hand underneath your shirt to toy with your sensitive peaks. "I wanna hear you."

Ellie couldn't take it, she needed to hear you. Feel you, taste you. You nearly whined when Ellie released the pressure of her knee against your heat, feeling her cold fingers graze the skin of your stomach just above your panty line as she leaned into you, closing the small gap by locking her lips with yours, forcing her tongue into your mouth. You felt her fingertips slide under the hem of your panties, thankful that she wasn't asking if everything was okay before doing it. You were nervous enough, and you trusted her. She told you to tell her when to stop, and she meant it. You were too flustered, excited, emotional to ask everything of her.

"Fuck," Ellie softly groaned against your lips as her index and middle fingers, free of bandages, found their way to your folds. Her fingers slid down your slit with ease, your wetness coating her digits enough for her to accidentally slip her fingers inside of you, earning an uncontrollable moan from you in return. "Oh my god, baby. You're so wet, you feel that?"

As Ellie asked her question, she pulled her fingers out of your sopping cunt, dragging them up your slit to coat yourself in your juices. You nodded, looking up at her with hooded eyes just inches away hers, a whimper falling from your lips as you easily melted under her touch.

"Yeah? You're such a good girl," Ellie praised, her fingers slowly slipping back inside your cunt with a messy noise, causing Ellie to pull her bottom lip between her teeth. Ellie's praise was only fueling the fire burning within your core from your sensitive cunt experiencing such foreign pleasure.

"Ellie," you breathed, your chest heaving from your adrenaline and excitement swirling together within your core. Ellie slowed the pace of her fingers, allowing them to linger inside you, slowly curling up. A short breath fell from your lips at the feeling, bucking your hips to signal her to keep going.

Ellie moved to lay beside you on your right, easing you closer to the inside of the couch so she had a better angle to pump her fingers inside of you. She used her right leg to continue separating your legs as she began to curl her fingers inside of you after every slow thrust.

"O-oh, fuck," you whimpered, your eyes fluttering closed as Ellie's lips attacked the right side of your neck. "E-Ellie—"

"What do you need, hm?" she purred in your ear, softly nipping your lobe with her lips as she waited for an answer, her green orbs boring into the side of your face. You were unable to respond, soft moans and whimpers falling from your lips as you began to arch your back against the cushions. "You need me to go faster, baby?"

You nodded, causing a sly smile to tug at the corner of Ellie's lips as she began to fasten her pace, the sound of your messy cunt making it difficult for Ellie to keep her lips closed, moaning along with you. Your hands desperately reached for her, one landing on her wrist while the other remained stuck underneath Ellie's body as she lied beside you. You didn't mind it as it kept you grounded from the overwhelming pleasure.

"Does that feel good? Hm?" Ellie inquired in a soothing tone, earning more nods from you as you nibbled at your bottom lip, trying to hold back the loud noises that threatened to bellow past your lips. Ellie leaned so that she was in the same position from earlier, hovering above you as she used her free hand to begin tugging your panties down your thighs.

The thrust of Ellie's fingers was delicate, yet so effective as she managed to rid your panties off your frame, exposing your entire lower half to her. You began to feel an immense overwhelming feeling of pleasure as Ellie's fingers continuously grazed your sweet spot, her soft praises in your ear only driving you closer to the edge.

"You're doing so good, baby. You're so wet, I bet you taste good too," she purred, her voice sounding soft in contrast to the messy noises of your cunt with each thrust of her fingers. You didn't expect your best friend to be so vocal in bed, though you weren't surprised either. You didn't mind it, in fact, it only caused your arousal to worsen.

"Fuck, Ellie. I... I—" you stammered in between moans, struggling to roll your hips against her.

"Do you feel like you're gonna come? t's okay, pretty girl, you can come," Ellie assured you, looking down at you with caring eyes as her chest heaved, her fingertips continuing to punch your spongy spot as she began to trail kisses down your chest, skipping over your shirt, and down your stomach. Before you could utter another word, Ellie's wet tongue dragged over your sensitive clit.

"O-oh, shit," you dragged out in a desperate moan, your right hand gripping the blanket that was now lying underneath you, your knuckles burning white as your eyes fluttered closed. Ellie's tongue was soft and warm, easily swirling around your clit in between sucking as her eyes remained glued to your face, piercing between her long, dark lashes.

Her cheeks were slightly tinted pink from her efforts, contrasting against her freckles. Her hair was messily pulled from its perfect bun, nearly falling out as Ellie continued to suck on your clit, the combination of it with her fingers sending you over the edge.

"Ellie, Ellie! Oh f-fuck," you cried as your peak crashed into you, your head falling back against the couch as your body began to shake through your climax. Ellie's fingers slowed but her mouth didn't, her tongue continuing to flick and lap at your swollen bud. The overstimulation was new to you, and very overwhelming. "S-Shit, Ellie, t's too much—"

Ellie quickly retracted her tongue, lowly humming as she gently pulled her fingers from your cunt. Ellie didn't hesitate to dip her fingers into her mouth, wrapping her tongue around them to taste you as you watched her through hooded eyes.

"Are you okay, pretty girl?" Ellie cooed, softly swiping her thumb over your sensitive clit as she hovered over you again, cupping your cheek with her other hand. "Do you need to stop?"

There's more?

You blinked for a moment, continuing to catch your breath before you shook your head. A smile began to tug at Ellie's lips as she slipped her hands underneath your back, pulling you to sit up.

"Can you walk f'me really quick?" she asked, earning a small 'yeah' from you in return. She then stood, reaching out for you to grab her hand, to which you accepted before she led you to her bed just a few feet away, easing you down so that your head was resting in the middle of her layers of pillows.

The main thing Ellie dreamed of was tasting you. If you were able to keep going, she would not turn down the opportunity. You were still attempting to catch your breath, your thighs trembling as you pressed your knees together, watching Ellie remove her clothes besides her undergarments, her cream-colored sports bra tightly hugging her chest. Ellie's forehead was littered with bullets of sweat, her nervousness mixed with her efforts to pleasure you quickly overheating her. It was obvious from her cheeks, shining a pretty pink as she crawled onto her bed, softly parting your knees apart, exposing yourself to her.

Her eyes were glued to your cunt, even as she began to leave nips and kisses on your inner thighs. She was teasing herself, and the thought made you shudder. Her lips pressed against your skin, growing closer to your sensitive heat with each press. Half of Ellie's bun had fallen out, and you found it quite attractive. It was different than her usual low-bun. Little did you know, she could tell, and you were the entire reason she would start wearing her hair that way.

"F-fuck, please," you whined, nearly pulling your thighs together, which would have in turn smashed Ellie's cheeks. "I need you."

Ellie's bright green orbs met yours after staring at your cunt for so long, a soft breath falling from her lips. Your pleads were like music to her ears, causing her to slip her arms underneath your thighs, pulling them apart before you felt her tongue push past your folds. A pornographic moan escaped your throat as Ellie pushed her tongue between your folds as far as she could, lapping at your juices as you arched your back above her comforter.

Against your efforts, you desperately pushed your thighs together from the overwhelming pleasure, unintentionally smashing Ellie's bruise on her cheek. Ellie hissed in response, which then turned into a deep moan against your cunt, causing vibrations to strike through your core and up your spine. Your body shook in response, your chest heaving as Ellie stretched her left arm further underneath you, wrapping it over your abdomen to swirl gentle circles into your swollen clit.

"S-Shit, I can't," you breathed, desperately gripping the comforter as Ellie's tongue lapped at your folds, humming in satisfaction with nearly every drag. Ellie's tongue retracted from your messy cunt, her cheeks glistening with your juices and her spit.

"Are you gonna come again, baby?" Ellie purred, looking up at you through her long lashes as she continued to softly tease your bundle of nerves, causing your body to jolt every few seconds. You managed to nod your head, unable to formulate a proper sentence as Ellie then continued to drag her tongue up your slit, maintaining eye contact. She knew exactly what she was doing, and it burned the coil within your core, snapping it. Ellie watched your eyes roll to the back of your head, your body shaking in her hold as she pressed gentle kisses on your sensitive clit.

"You did so good, you know that?" Ellie purred against your bud, earning a soft gasp from you in return. Ellie released her grasp on your thighs, using the bed for stabilization as she hovered over you, your eyes maintaining contact before she dipped her head down, capturing your lips with hers. Your chest was still heaving, making Ellie hum as she stood from the bed.

"Where are you going?" you asked, your eyes innocently looking up at hers as you were still coming down from your high, nearly making Ellie chuckle.

"I'm going to get you some water," Ellie said with a smile, wiping your juices off her chin with the back of her hand while walking over to the edge of the bed, beside you. "Can you handle that?"

You rolled your eyes, though a smile broke on your lips as you allowed yourself to catch your breath. Despite consummating your relationship, she was still your best friend, and was a giant tease.

"I think I can."

TAGLIST— @kurosaaki @bellswlw @rxllingstones @urlocalgingersnap @coeurify @elliesstar @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @hrtsellie

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 41!

another excellent reading week <3 this list is spoiler free for season 8: for season 8 fic recs, click here!

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading!

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

for thy true-love take | lecornergirl/@clusterbuck| 1.9k | T

Chimney Han and the ethics of slipping your coworkers love potions. chimneyhen bestieism!! this felt so them <3

from the ground up | blueberrytwoberry/@blueberrytwoberry| 17.5k | M

And so, really, the last thing he needed when he got home at the end of a long shift was to find a massive, weird-ass dog curled up on his front porch. And yet, there it was. just this morning i realised what a goldmine animal transformation aus can be and wow this was exactly what i was looking for!! the maddie scene had me giggling, such a lovely fic!!

i can't sleep without you | Buddiesmutslut/@buddiesmutslut | 1.9k | G

He can exhaust himself with a workout or a good shift or a night out, but by the time he climbs into his bed, he lays awake for hours, replaying his mistakes over and over again. He’s barely sleeping, beyond exhausted and he just wants to go home. so so soft and so lovely <3 exactly the comfort i needed earlier this week

i didn't know (that it could be good) | rainbow_nerds/@rainbow-nerdss | 27k | E

They're friends, that's all there is to it. Until Eddie lets himself into Buck's apartment unannounced, and finds him in a compromising position. That should be nothing, just something to laugh about down the line, except afterwards, it's like a switch has flipped, and neither of them can get it out of their minds. okay yes yes the smut is good the clothes sharing is nice the sexual tension is so there but can we talk about the butterflies?? just read this and you'll know what i mean it will be so worth it i promise. a new favourite for sure <3

i'll be the north star that takes you home | marviless/@marviless | 7.9k | G

in which eddie is moving back to el paso for the summer, and buck is deeply in love. listen the idea of eddie moving to el paso hurts me and also hurts buck BUT when it leads to fics like this i suddenly don't mind anymore <3 the airport scene!!

i'll keep your brittle heart warm | reeseofmind | 12.8k | E

5 times buck and eddie wear the other's clothes + 1 time they don't wear much of anything. i've been deep in the clothes sharing tag and this was one of my favourite finds <3

in synchronicity with the score | therainbowsedge/@therainbowsedge | 30.2k | E

“How long have you gone without scening?” And isn’t that a loaded question that Buck doesn’t even know how to start responding to. i have such a weak spot for fics like this. this has some gorgeous descriptive passages and looks into buck's mindset in this au!

love like woven thread | renecdote/@renecdote | 1.9k | G

the one where Eddie is a clothes thief and Buck kind of loves that about him. the ultimate hurt/comfort fluff clothes stealing fic <3 so lovely!! i reread this while working on this rec list actually hehe

steal my abuela (you already have my heart) | anarchyat4am | 4.6k | T

“Hey,” Eddie says softly, “You really showed up for me yesterday. Thank you.” “Course,” Buck says, “We had fun.” “Fun? You sat in the ER with my abuela for three hours.”. buck and abuela!! i love them together so much!! family feels indeed <3

vary my days | Chash | 12.6k | T

After Christopher leaves, Frank tells Eddie to get a hobby. Eddie picks Legos, Buck picks crochet, and they both wait for Chris to talk to them again. eddie and the legos my absolute beloved <3 such a fantastic working of these characters!!

you've haunted me so stunningly | playinginthunderstorms/@playinginthunderstorms | 9.6k | T

Five times Buck and Eddie hold hands, one time they do by proxy, and one time Eddie freaks out about it. holding hands!! so so hurt/comfort in the best way possible. i was saving this one for a bus ride home after a long day and it hit the spot exactly <3

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 9

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, mentions of drugs, mentions of selling drugs, angst, cursing

I couldn’t stop thinking about last night. Every second of the argument with Chris replayed in my head like scenes from a movie that I’d seen too many times. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get any sleep. The raw frustration, the sting of betrayal.. it was all still fresh, replaying each time I closed my eyes. By morning, I hadn’t come to any conclusions. I just felt exhausted, angry, and desperate for someone to tell me how to handle it. It felt too big, too complex to just shove down or forget. As soon as it was an acceptable time, I texted Willow. She was the only person I could talk to about this.  Even if she didn’t fully understand, I needed her perspective, her advice – anything to help me make sense of what I’d just found out about Chris.

When I arrived at her apartment, she was already waiting at the door, practically pulling me inside. Willow had always been the friend who listened first, asked questions second, and reserved judgement until all the cards were on the table. It was why I knew she’d hear me out, even if this whole situation sounded insane and it made it easier that she already knew the situation.

“You look like you haven’t slept” she said, scanning my face as she shut the door behind us.

“Because I haven’t.” I forced a small laugh, but even I could tell how hollow it sounded. I followed her into the living room, sinking into the couch and pulling my knees up to my chest. She settled beside me, looking at me with genuine concern. 

“Sorry about just leaving you behind last night, that was a bit shitty of me.” I said apologetically.

“No, don't worry about it, I would be the same.. Plus I may or may have not brought Nate back here last night.” Willow said with a dirty smirk on her face.

“What?!” My face dropped in shock.

“I mean I always knew he was rough around the edges anyway so I expected him to be wrapped but in something.. But I had fun the first time, I wanted to do it again” She responds giving me a side smirk. “But anyway that’s besides the point, spill. What happened when Chris went after you?”

I took a deep breath, trying to figure out where to start. “We had a huge argument..I.. I just don’t know what to do about Chris. I went straight home after, but it’s like I can’t get it out of my head.” I sighed, rubbing my temples, trying to ease the tension building up. “He told me he’s involved with the Crimson Cartel, Willow. Like, actually involved. He said he got pulled into it because of Nate and his family.”

Willow’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t look as shocked as I thought she would. “Whoa. That’s.. heavy” she said slowly. “But, I mean, we’ve known Chris for a bit now. He’s always seemed cool, especially with you. He’s not hurting anyone, right?”

I felt my chest tighten at her words. “No, but.. he deals, Willow. He’s actually in a gang. This isn’t just some bad habit or weird side job, he’s in deep. And he told me that’s why he disappeared from my life years ago. He didn’t want to drag me into it, so he just left. And then, seeing me again, he said it felt like a sign.”

Willow leaned back, her brow furrowing as she absorbed what I’d told her. “Okay, but maybe we’re blowing this out of proportion. I mean, think about it. You said yourself that he doesn’t hurt people, and he seems to really care about you. It’s not that big of a deal, right?”

I let out a frustrated sigh. “Willow, it is a big deal. We weren’t raised to think this kind of thing is normal or okay. He’s wrapped up in something that could put him – and everyone around him –in serious danger. It’s not as simple as just brushing it off because he’s nice to me.”

She shrugged, giving me a small, sympathetic smile. “Maybe. But he’s still Chris. I mean, he’s not out there starting fights or doing anything extreme, right? He’s just selling. And lowkey the bad boy image is kinda hot..” She raised her eyebrows, giving me a playful nudge.

I tried to smile back, but it felt forced. “It’s not just about his image, though. It’s about what it all represents. I mean.. what if he gets caught up in something? ” My voice grew quieter as I spoke, and I found myself staring at the floor, lost in thought. “

Willow was quiet for a moment, her face thoughtful. “I get it. It’s complicated. But he’s obviously got feelings for you, Y/n. I mean, you don’t throw out that kind of confession if you’re not serious about someone. And maybe he’s right, maybe seeing you again is a sign.” She shrugged. “You could always see if he’d try to get out. It might be a long shot, but.. maybe he’d consider it if he knew it was that important to you.”

I shook my head, feeling a wave of frustration and sadness wash over me. “It’s not that simple, though. He made it clear last night that this isn’t just something you can leave behind.”

Willow watched me carefully, her expression softening. “Look, Y/n, I get that you’re scared. But I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’s not just going to throw that away. Maybe he’ll surprise you. Maybe he���ll find a way to make it work.” She paused, glancing at me with a small smile. “Just.. take it one day at a time. You don’t have to figure everything out right now.”

I sighed, leaning back against the couch as I mulled over her words. A part of me wanted to believe that maybe, somehow, things could work out. But the other part of me knew that Chris’s world was dark, dangerous, and unpredictable. It wasn’t the life I wanted, and it definitely wasn’t the life I’d ever imagined for myself.

“So, you’re saying I should just.. wait and see what happens?” I asked, my voice uncertain.

She nodded slowly. “Kind of. I’m just saying that maybe it’s not as clear cut as you think. You don’t have to make a decision right this second. Talk to him again. See if he’s willing to try and distance himself from it, if that’s what you want.”

I rubbed my face with my hands, feeling the weight of everything hitting me. “I don’t even know if that’s possible. He told me about Nate’s cousin, Danny, and how he basically dragged Chris into the cartel. He made it sound like there’s no way out, and.. I don’t know, Willow. I don’t know if I can just sit around and hope he’ll somehow find a way to leave.”

Willow reached over and gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “I get it. But just think about it, okay? Chris isn’t the kind of guy who’d put you in danger on purpose. I’ve seen the way he is around you, he’s protective. Maybe he’ll come up with a plan, but I think he’s worth giving it a shot. You deserve to be happy, Y/n.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected, and I felt a lump forming in my throat. I wanted so badly for things to be different, to go back to how it felt when Chris and I reconnected, before I knew what was really going on. But now, I couldn’t ignore the reality of who he was and the risks that came with being with him.

We sat in silence for a while, both of us lost in our own thoughts. Finally, Willow spoke up, her voice gentle. “Look, I know this isn’t how you pictured things turning out with him. But maybe there’s a reason he’s back in your life. Maybe you’re supposed to help each other, or.. I don’t know. Maybe this is a chance for both of you to figure things out together.”

Her words stirred something inside me – a faint glimmer of hope, buried beneath all the fear and doubt. Maybe she was right. Maybe Chris and I were meant to be in each other’s lives, even if it was messy and complicated. But I knew it wouldn’t be easy, and there were no guarantees that things would work out the way I wanted.

“Thanks, Willow” I said softly, giving her a small smile. “I don’t know if I’m ready to make a decision just yet, but.. I’ll think about it.”

She nodded, her expression understanding. “Take all the time you need. And whatever you decide, just know I’m here for you, no matter what.”

As I left her apartment, I couldn’t shake the conversation from my mind. I was still conflicted, still unsure of what to do. But talking to Willow had given me some clarity, even if it was only a small step toward figuring out the mess that was my relationship with Chris.

The day dragged on, and I found myself going through the motions, unable to fully focus on anything. Chris had told me that seeing me again felt like a sign, like something had pulled us back together for a reason. But as much as I wanted to believe that, I couldn’t ignore the risks and the dangers that came with being with him.

That evening, I sat alone in my room, staring at my phone, my finger hovering over his contact. Part of me wanted to call him, to try and work things out, but another part of me was terrified of what that conversation would lead to. Could I really ask him to walk away from everything he’d been pulled into? Could I be with him, knowing what I knew now?

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my thoughts. Maybe Willow was right—maybe I didn’t need to have all the answers right now. But one thing was clear: if I wanted to be with Chris, I’d have to face the reality of who he was and what his world entailed. And if he was willing to try and find a way out, maybe, just maybe, there was hope for us.

My fingers still hovered over Chris’s name, and I felt my stomach twist with a mix of nerves and longing. Despite everything, part of me wanted to see him, to hear his side again, even if it meant facing the harsh reality of his world.

Finally, I typed out a message:

"Hey, I’d like to talk. Can we meet up?"

I hit send before I could overthink it, watching as the text delivered. My heart pounded as I waited, the seconds dragging out painfully, until my phone vibrated with his response.

"Of course. I can come pick you up if you like?”

The tension in my chest loosened a little, and I felt a strange sense of relief. Whatever happened next, I knew I’d at least have the chance to speak with him, to see if there was any path forward for us.

After agreeing, I put my phone down, staring out the window as the sky began to darken, a mix of excitement and dread settling over me. I didn’t know how the conversation would go or what it might mean for us, but for now, I was willing to take that chance, to let myself hope, even if just a little, that there was still something worth saving between us.

a/n : everything seems calm... for now

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @bernardsbunny @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69 @vickytaa @anikaistg @matts-girlfriend @lvrsturniolo

[dewdropdinosaur]

Gentle On My Mind

Angel Dust x Reader x Husk (Poly) Summary: Feeling a little anxious about their appearance, Y/N seeks comfort in their partners who surprise them with a little shopping adventure. Warnings: None For @little-bloodied-angel, feel better soon, my lovely.

Y/N paced back and forth in their small apartment, heart racing as they replayed the night’s events in their mind. Angel had been charming, as always, throwing playful banter their way and making them laugh until they almost forgot the nagging worry in the back of their mind. But the moment they caught Angel glancing at another couple—one more traditional looking—Y/N's heart sank.

“Do you think he prefers someone more… masculine?” Y/N whispered to Husk, who was lounging on the couch, a case of beer in his lap.

Husk glanced up, raising an eyebrow, eyes squinted from the bitter taste of the cheap alcohol.

“You really think that? Look, I don’t care how pretty you are, you’re not a girl just ‘cause you’ve got some flair. The same way I like mister porn star over there. Angel likes who he likes, and it’s not always about looks.”

Y/N bit their lip, fidgeting with the hem of their shirt. “But he’s so flamboyant and bold. What if he wants someone who compliments that instead of replicates it?”

“Yeah, well, you’d be surprised what a person can find attractive. Angel’s got a thing for both sides of the spectrum, okay?” Husk leaned back, his tone softening a bit.

“Trust me. He wouldn’t be with you, or me for that matter, if he didn’t think you were gorgeous just as you are.”

Still unconvinced, Y/N nodded, but the worry clung to them like a shadow. They knew Angel was free-spirited but the thought of not fitting the mold gnawed at them.

The next day, a knock on the door startled them from their thoughts. It was Angel, grinning wide, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Surprise pretty boy!” he chirped, pulling Y/N out into the sunlight. “We’re going shopping!”

“Shopping?” Y/N blinked in confusion. “For what?”

"I, uh, may have told Angel here about your dilemma?"

"HUSK!"

“Forget that, think new clothes! You’re going to look fabulous. You're coming too Husky! ” Angel declared, tugging Y/N by the wrist. Husk followed behind, rolling his eyes but smiling at the scene.

“Sure, let me just add ‘pack mule’ to my resume,” he grumbled, grabbing a tote bag that Angel had stuffed with snacks. “What do you want from me? To carry the burdens of your glittery dreams?”

As they strolled through the streets, Y/N felt a mix of excitement and anxiety. They had never shopped for femme clothing with someone who wanted to dress them up. Angel was animated, pointing out vibrant items, flashy tops, and accessories that sparkled in the sunlight.

“How about this?” Angel held up a shimmering silver top, fabric glistening like stars. “You’d look stunning in this. Picture it: you, twirling under the lights at a party.”

Y/N hesitated, glancing at the item and then back at Angel. “But what if it’s too much?”

Angel rolled his eyes, moving closer. “Y/N, I adore you. You’re the light of my life, okay? I wouldn’t pick anything that didn’t scream ‘gorgeous’—and believe me, this does.”

Husk interjected with a sarcastic smirk, “And if it doesn’t, I’ll make sure to bring the receipt.”

With a small laugh, Y/N picked up the top, heart warming at the thought of Angel’s unwavering support. They ventured further into the store, Angel continuously holding up items, each more colorful and flamboyant than the last.

“Try this one on!” Angel insisted, handing over a bright pink blouse that seemed to glow. “Just think of how amazing you’ll look with this paired with some cute jeans! Wait, I think I may have a pair you could borrow toots--”

Y/N took a deep breath, and something inside them shifted. Maybe this was more than just clothing; it was a way for Angel to show that he cherished every part of them, from the bits that felt uncertain to the parts that shone bright.

After trying on several outfits, they finally emerged from the fitting room in a form-fitting black ensemble adorned with lace details. Angel’s eyes lit up like fireworks, his joy infectious. “See? You look absolutely stunning! It’s like this was made for you!”

Husk pretended to fan himself, shaking his head. “Damn, kid. I might have to start charging for my services if you keep pulling looks like that.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile, feeling a rush of warmth wash over them. With Angel’s encouragement, they began to see themselves differently. Maybe they didn’t need to fit a specific mold; maybe being their authentic self was enough.

As they left the store with bags full of vibrant clothes, Angel threw an arm around Y/N’s shoulder. “I knew you’d shine, babe. Never doubt yourself, alright? You’re a gorgeous boy and we're lucky to have you.”

Y/N smiled, feeling a weight lift from their chest. With Angel by their side, they felt braver, ready to embrace every part of themselves, flamboyant or otherwise. And maybe, just maybe, they could stop worrying about who they were supposed to be and focus on being just who they were.

[lovelycreativecrafts]

What Makes Miguel O'Hara Blush? | Spider-Verse Headcannon/Scenario

Word Count: 600

Warnings: None

Author Notes: Personally, I'm not much of a Miguel simp but I can definitely see the appeal. If you like this Headcannon please like and reblog the post. I hope you all have a blessed day!

The first thing I want to say is that Miguel is emotionally constipated. Anything romantic that may happen to him, he tends to push the feelings back down or doesn’t know what to do with them. Which leaves him to either ignore the romantic thing or dismiss it. 

Any romantic advances towards him don’t phase him. If someone were to give him any sort of physical affection, he would either let the person get their feelings out or deny or reject the affection. If someone were to give him a gift he would accept it but think nothing more of it. If the person were to complement his physical appearance he would ignore it. It might even make him feel a bit uncomfortable if it wasn’t from his significant other. 

The thing that would make Miguel blush is something more genuine and not seen as anything romantic. For him, I think the thing that would get him to blush is a genuine compliment about who he is. 

Miguel’s POV

I stared at my screens as I replayed the scenes with my daughter. I can’t let something like that happen again. I must protect the multiverse. The doors to my office opened and I quickly changed the screen to the default setting. I turned toward my front doors and examined who came in. 

“Is there something wrong?” I asked. 

My assistant shot her webs on the platform that I stood on and I took a step back as she softly landed on the tall platform. 

“No, not at all. I just wanted to inform you that I completed all of my work before I headed home. Also, I wanted to give you some coffee since I know you tend to work late.” My assistant held out a cup of coffee to me. 

This is new. I grabbed the cup from her hands. “Thank you and I hope you have a good night.” I took a sip of the coffee. How does she know I like black coffee? Did I ever ask her to make me one at some point? 

I looked up from my coffee to find my assistant observing me. 

“Is there anything more you want to tell me?” 

“Well yes actually. I-uh,” 

I waited for her to gather her thoughts. 

“I know other people may have told you this already. So, I may sound like a broken record.” She fidgeted with her hands. 

I frowned. Does she also have something critical to say to me? Like how I’m too strict or that I need to smile more. 

“I just wanted to say that I really appreciate what you’re doing for us. I’m thankful that you took your time and life to make sure that our universes stays intact and safe. I admire your dedication and hard work. And I hope that you get everything that you desire out of this.” My assistant smiled. 

I tightened my grip on my cup as something erupted from the pit of my stomach. Something light and feathery, almost like a tickle. Butterflies. My cheeks warmed and I took another sip of my coffee. I looked back at my assistant and her eyes gazed into mine. Butterflies flowed through my stomach again and the warmness from my cheeks rose toward my ears. I glimpsed to the side and cleared my throat. 

“Well-uh . . . Thank you . . . for letting me know,” I sipped my coffee again. 

“You're welcome and I hope you also have a good night.” 

I heard her swing off of my platform and I let out a breath. That hasn’t happened in a while. 

[holylulusworld]

SHG for killers (1) - The first meeting

Summary: 6 men meet up to talk about their problems. They soon realize they need someone to help them solve their problems. This person is you. Whether you like it or not.

Pairing: Steve Kemp x fem!Reader, Lloyd Hansen x fem!Reader, Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x fem!Reader, Andy Barber x fem!Reader, God, the bounty hunter x fem!Reader, Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of murder/killing for money, serial killers/hitmen, mentions of blood/gore, talk about crimes, self-help group for killers/hitmen, world building, we get to know the men first

Self-help group for killers masterlist

“IT STINGS!” His screams of pain and agony echo in Lloyd Hansen’s mind when he wakes from another restless slumber.

He’s a stone-cold mercenary. Merciless and fearless. Or he was. That was until a certain former CIA lapdog pissed onto everything Lloyd stands for. It doesn’t help that he lost two fingers while hunting Six down.

“Bastard,” he curses under his breath as his eyes focus on his hand mutilation. “Still miss my pussy fingers,” Lloyd grumbles angrily. “Wait until I find you, Sierra Six. You’re a dead man; you just don’t know it yet.”

He closes his eyes, replaying the scene again. Lloyd grits his teeth, remembering how he got into a grapple with Six, who blew off Lloyd's left pinkie and ring finger.

The finger prosthetics don’t make him feel better. Sierra’s win over him, the loss of his fingers and reputation, still stings. His self-confidence and ego were not only bruised but torn in two.

For months, he fails mission after mission. His team is long gone, and so is his patience. Lloyd is angry and out for blood. Preferable Sierra Six’s blood.

He tried anything to find the renegade assassin. So far, he didn’t even find a trace. Sierra Six is a master at hiding from his enemies. Lloyd gives him that.

“One day, you’ll pay for what you did.”

“No drugs. No contact with other offenders. No missing an appointment,” Ransom’s probation officer recites all the rules he must follow. “Mr. Drysdale, did you even listen?”

“All of you are telling me the same thing.” Ransom sneers. “You’re the fifth guy in not four months. I know the rules.” He leans back in the uncomfortable and cheap chair the probation officer offered him. “All of you try to get me behind bars again; I get it. You’re pissed because I got earlier than everyone expected.”

“Mr. Drysdale,” the probation officer replies, watching Ransom munch another cookie. “I really don’t have the time to make plans to get you behind bars again. That’s not in my job description. If you don’t have any problems, we can end the meeting for today.”

“Shit, just a sec.” Robert doesn’t have the time to talk to his ex today. “Listen, you got the money and the car. Let’s part on good terms.” He’s poorly hiding his anger. If she says one more word, he’ll sneak into her new apartment and kill her and the bastard who’s banging her brains out now. “I got a job to do.”

Robert hangs up the phone. He’s not done with the body yet. The client wants proof that her husband is dead. She’s a naughty one, Robert thinks to himself while getting the saw out. Well, all for customer satisfaction.

The doctor is not happy. He tried anything to make sure his business was flowing. Sadly, some people try to stop him from being successful.

“You had to cross me, didn’t you?" He looks down at his former partner and sneers. “We could’ve made so much money. But you had to find your conscience.”

Steve kicks the dead man, grunting as he’s bleeding on the brand-new carpet at his office. Killing his partner wasn’t in his plans for today. It’s not the first time he got his hand dirty.

If Steve were honest, he’d admit that he likes to get his hands dirty. As a doctor, he should save other people’s lives, not take them. Still, he can’t help but feel excited about his latest decision.

Watching the family grieve over the death of their recently killed father and husband, God furrows his brows. He never understood human emotions. The man he killed was a tyrant. He betrayed his business partners, terrorized his family, and cheated on his wife.

The man remains in his hideout to watch the family and friends mourn their loss. Lately, he likes to stick around to watch their reaction. Some scream. Others silently cry.

God likes the ones who put on a show for others the most. He did so all his life. Pretending in public that he’s a normal guy.

The truth is, he feels hollow because he never belonged...

Andy Barber steps out of the courtroom with his head held high. He won another case and can’t help but smirk as his opponent seems to be salty.

“Barber,” the prosecutor says, venom in his voice. “Congratulations on letting another monster go free.”

“If you wanted them in jail,” Andy says, and he dips his head to watch his client smirk at the victims of his cruelty, “you should’ve been a better lawyer.”

Andy walks toward his client, a spring in his step to shake the monster’s hand. He smirks and assures the man he deserves to walk out of the courtroom as a free man. Andy squeezes the man’s hand hard, making him wince. Who would’ve thought a lawyer could be so strong?

The serial rapist ends up dead after the accused was acquitted for lack of evidence. Lloyd recites the newspaper. “I see you’ve been very active lately, Barber. Do I need to remind you to keep it low?”

“No one asked you,” Andy shoots back. He doesn’t know why he’s still coming to the so-called self-help group. Andy doesn’t feel guilty for killing his clients. Who else would punish them for their crimes? “They had a choice, Hansen. It wasn’t me letting him go.”

“He’s not wrong,” Ransom says between munching a cookie and sipping on the expensive mochaccino he bought on his way to the group. “Baber got a point there.”

“Who asked you, amateur?” Robert sneers. He just can’t stand Barber or Drysdale. They are not worth his time, or so he thinks. He’s fine with Hansen and the guy calling himself God. They are like him—professionals. “I don’t even know why you, Mr. Lawyer, are here.”

“I invited them,” Hansen grunts. “If you want to leave, you can go anytime. I founded this group, not you.”

“Man, stop making a fuss!” Pronge shows his palms. “I only wanted to point out that they are not professionals. What if the cops find out about their hobby? What if they decide to get a deal and rat us out?”

Lloyd snorts. He looks at the black leather glove hiding his prosthetic fingers. “No one rats Lloyd Hansen out. We all agreed on complete secrecy. What we discuss here stays within this room.”

Andy rubs his bearded chin. Coming to the group to talk about the crimes he committed helped him improve. Lloyd and God even gave him advice on how to make his crimes look like accidents. “I’m going to therapy now,” he admits. “Not to talk about my hobby, though.”

“Therapy, huh?” Lloyd taunts, while Ransom smirks. God and Robert busy themselves with checking their phones for new clients. “I hope you’re not talking about our little group with the doctor.”

Steve sneers. “Don’t call these incompetent wannabes doctors. They are by all means nothing but pathetic losers trying to tell you how to live your life.”

“No one asked you, Dr. Frankenstein,” Ransom snaps at Steve. “Did you work on some nice asses and tits lately?”

“Shut up,” Steve jumps up, knocking his chair over. “At least I got a job, and I don’t live off my family’s money.”

“Shut up yourself!” Ransom puts his cookies aside and throws the rest of his mochaccino at Steve.

“Gentlemen!” Lloyd yells at Steve and Ransom. “We come here to talk about our problems and help each other improve. I didn’t come here, freezing my ass off on the way to watch you fight like girls over the latest fashion trend.”

“The therapy helps me more than coming here,” Andy raises his voice. “Your advice was good, but I think I’ll stick to her.”

The men stop fighting and stare at Andy.

“Her?” Lloyd licks his lips. “You’ve got a pretty little doctor for your therapist? Why didn’t you tell us before? We would’ve been all ears.”

“Why does this make a difference?” Andy cocks a brow. “She’s got a good reputation and listens to me. I talked to her for months, and she never pressured me into talking about my family.”

“Boohoo, your wife killed your murderous son and is as dead as your latest victim,” Lloyd mocks Andy. “Let’s talk about that pretty ass you’re seeing. Show us her reputation and shit.”

“Why?” Andy sighs deeply. He knew it was a mistake to talk about you and your sessions.

“For science,” Lloyd grins and snatches the phone out of Andy’s hand. Before Andy can protest, Lloyd throws the phone at God, nodding at him. “Unlock it, and look for the doc.”

Steve rolls his eyes. He didn’t come here to talk about some therapist. “Can we go back to business? Barber has a therapist. Maybe he even bangs her. Who cares?”

“Bangs her?” That picked Lloyd’s interest. “Not the worst idea. Maybe as a new version of therapy. Fuck all the bad memories out of her sweet cunt.”

“Got it,” God says and throws the phone at Lloyd. Y/N Y/L/N,” he recites your address and contact information. “She looks cute.”

“Cute?” Ransom laughs. “I didn’t know the word cute in your vocabulary. Show me.” Ransom walks toward Lloyd to look at the phone in his hands. “Not bad. Hey Barber, does she have a cute ass too?”

“Why are we talking about some woman? If our meeting is over, I’ll go back to business,” Steve says as he gets up. He wants to walk past Lloyd but glances at the phone. “Hmm…I’ve seen her before.”

Steve snatches the phone out of Lloyd’s hands. He looks at the pictures of you, licking his lips.

“Stop stalking my therapist,” Andy angrily says. “Can I get my phone back now?”

“I remember now,” Steve exclaims while staring at your pictures. “She accompanied one of her patients. They wanted surgery, but she talked them out of it. I hated her.” He shrugs.

“I bet she’s an uptight little doctor,” Lloyd muses. His smirk darkens as he looks at the men he brought together around two years ago. “Barber, did you already have a taste? I bet she tastes like strawberries.”

“Hansen, that is enough,” Andy grumbles. He snatches the phone out of Lloyd’s hands and turns to leave. “This was a waste of time!”

“Not to me.” Lloyd clenches and unclenches his fists. “I think I found something that will help us improve as a group. You all came here to talk about your problems and to get better at what you’re doing. I think this sweet doctor will be a big help.

Tags in reblog.

[jolalibrary]

Hi Jo! Love the idea of #mmvalentinesevent! Could I please request Ghost x Rain, and specifically Rain freaking out because Ghost was reckless and risked his life for a USB? Was that when Ghost fell in love? Happy Valentines xx

retrieve it.

simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader (rain!reader)

an: a huge thank you to @ave661 for allowing me to use this beautiful image. i’d written the scene, seen the render, and it was like two worlds colliding in the most brilliant way. thank you, i adore you

wc: 1.6k | an: no warnings, little anxiety/worry. i changed the prompt a little, as i wanted to do them established already for v-day ♥️

It mirrors it. The mission that first made you realise you didn’t just admire him, but had feelings for your lieutenant.

It was the one that haunted your nightmares, more so now, than it had done at the time. The one which shattered your small world, making it hard to think of anything but him.

He almost became a ghost. A real one.

Something he knows, but won’t admit. Likely knowing there are more times than he can count where it’s been that close or worse.

And you should be listening as Price gives the rest of them a role, a part to play. You don’t hear him, don’t even take the file from the table. Everything was the same, anyway.

You’re with Soap. You’re the one staring down the scope—you’re the one protecting his six. You’re drowning, dazed…

Words are simply circling, but not sinking in. Your nose heightened to his deodorant suddenly, to the way his skin smells when you’re nose is pressed against his chest. You’re not even close to him. But your body reaches for him, clings to him—attempting to smother the building worry:

People aren’t that lucky.

He’d walked from it last time—fire whipping around him, scorch marks having kissed his clothes and exposed skin. It’s not that you ever focus on, but the minute that felt like an hour when he wasn’t responding. When his radio crackled, and you realised that you liked him—that you cared, that you—

You’re panicking a whole metre away from him. No way close enough for him to tell. But he does. His eyes lock with yours under the balaclava, digging his pupils into your skin: I’m here, I’m here.

But for how long?

They all tease Soap for being the first to rush into danger, to throw himself on the grenade. But, Simon isn’t that different. He’s more methodical, having likely come to a calculated conclusion rather than reactionary, but he still throws himself against danger. His isn’t to be a hero, but to pay a due—one he doesn’t even owe.

It’s why you keep replaying Price’s words from minutes ago—

We can’t fuck this. Ghost. You’ll b’going in alone, y’retrieve the USB…

Price knows he’ll do it. Knows without fucking question. It almost makes you a little mad at your captain.

Because Ghost will pull apart buildings, rip through people, and willingly throw himself into flames for the mission—for the cause.

It’s all you can think of. It’s all that plays in your mind. Untangling and tangling again, like a pair of headphones which have been in your pocket for too long.

“Meeting adjourn—“

You’re out of the room before anyone else. Your boots slamming and echoing down corridors, t-shirt suddenly too tight, belt too restrictive…

Panic.

That’s what you feel. It makes your arm throb, it makes the scars littered along your skin burn. It makes you want to claw—practically consuming you. Filling you from the ankles to your forehead, suffocating you, wrapping its hands around your heart and lungs as it squeezes and squeezes and—

You almost slam through the door. The one which leads to an empty room—a former office. A desk and a chair are all that remain as evidence that they belonged to someone once. A desk and chair you and Ghost have made use of when you truly need time alone—no interruptions, no risk of being caught.

You could seat yourself in the chair, but you slide onto the desk. Pushing your back against the jagged brick, letting your feet hang, moving them forwards and backwards.

Calming.

It works, sometimes. Roots you. You trying to keep yourself level-headed. Breathing in and out, trying to stuff it all down, and yet, you’re failing—badly. Mind tumbling, falling aimlessly through your neck, chest and stomach.

You can’t lose him.

It’s what builds inside of you, occasionally being drilled like a woodpecker against your skull. You had thought the same then, and didn’t—hadn’t. But, the helplessness never eased, even when he held you close. The emptiness you felt, when he entered the building, but took so long to come out.

That same emptiness has worsened over time, developed into something thicker and harder to ignore. It multiplies, in the same way, your feelings for him have.

Rain doesn’t wash away ghosts, but it falls similarly to how you have for him. Quickly, significantly. It sits on your chest when he stares at you in silence, when his calloused touch brushes over your cheek, softly, intimately.

None of them knows.

None of them would have even considered that you love him, and that he… feels something close to it. They don’t know. None of them understood the anger he felt when your arm was dislocated; none of them comprehended why anger had burst out of you when he was nearly shot because of shoddy intel.

They don’t know, because they don’t have it: a secret which erodes in your chest, one that makes it hard to think. You sigh, and then you hear it—footsteps, one’s which seem to slow your pulse back to a regular rhythm.

He always has that effect on you. The same as he always finds you.

It almost makes you wonder if he’s akin to a heat-seeking missile. Never missing, never too far away from locating you. You’d ask him, whether he had a sixth sense, but you’re not sure you can talk.

Ghost says nothing as he steps in, but he’s rolled his sleeves up. His ink and veins on show as he walks towards you in silence, the door meeting the frame the only thing to shatter the quiet.

Before he came to your home, Ghost stalked towards you. Since then, he walks. Each movement he does towards you is more rounded, less jagged.

“In and out.”

He says it so confidently you snort. He’s always confident—it’s Simon who isn’t.

Ghost is clinical, emotionless, and withdrawn—and rightly so, for the things he’s had to do. It’s Simon who can’t consider the possibility that someone is waiting for him—the former not allowing himself to consider he’s worth it.

“Rain.”

You lift your chin at your callsign, finding him standing in front of you. His bare hand slowly slid over your knee, your legs parting—just enough to let him move a little closer.

It’s gentle, almost confusingly so. The two of you rarely share these moments, the quiet ones, the ones where so much is said, but with eyes and softer gestures.

You focus on the scratch fabric of his trousers catching on your inner knees and thighs as he steps between your legs, nudging the desk you’re placed on.

He says nothing, and neither do you.

A flash of memories fluttering like the wings of butterflies: him at your one-person table, him in your bed—your sheets; him finding you in the showers, him bringing you a can of Coke… just because.

It’s his palm sliding up the outside of your thigh that makes you really meet his gaze. Not afraid or ashamed of the tears brewing in them, your lips parting, but the words don’t fall—don’t roll from your tongue…

I need you alive. I need you.

Your hands, though, take hold of his top—burning the words as hard as you can into the fabric, hoping he hears you. Not sure if you can spit them out. Even if your heart is bellowing it, furiously banging on your ribs to get him to hear you.

“It’s not like then.”

“No?” you murmur.

He shakes his head, silent, but direct.

“You’ll do anything to finish a mission.”

He nods, tracing a circle on your outer thigh, making your skin tingle. “I will.”

“You… you put yourself in danger, and… I admire it, fuck I love that about you, but…”

“I have you.”

You feel your brows furrow before you’re even sure you hear him. His words smothering the ones from Price—the ones which hadn’t dislodged for prayers or hopes. Only him.

He swallows, lifting his other hand to your cheek, holding your eyes on his. “I have you, and you like me alive.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, sharply. Nodding softly against his palm as he sighs.

“In and out.”

“In and out.”

He gives a curt nod, slowly lowering his forehead against yours, fingers strumming your thigh and your cheek.

“Plus, your scope will b’on me,” he gruffly whispers.

“I-It will.”

He strokes his thumb over your chin. “Then I’ll be fine.”

You hate his confidence, the pressure which falls in flecks onto your shoulders.

“No one I trust more to have my back, Rain.”

“You’re just saying that—”

He lifts his head, tilting your chin up, staring down into your soul through the blacks of your eyes. “Not to you. I never say… not to you, alright?”

You nod, rolling your lips as you sigh. Unsure whether you should say it, let the words kiss the air, until they fall from your tongue all the same—

“I love you alive, Simon.”

His eyes widen at the chance in word. The noticeable difference from like to love.

Your hands balling up against his clothing, his hand gripping your thigh. Perfection. That’s what you think as you hold on for as long as you both can, making sure he knows you mean them. Your words.

Then you feel it, his heart hammering more purposefully against your wrist, as you clutch onto him a little tighter.  

And then, he lifts the fabric from his chin, letting you see soft pink and stubble, before he kisses a reply against your lips, over and over again.

One which burns in all the right ways; one which you carry with you, as you make sure he’s safe as you stare down the scope.

[cranetreegang]

Let Me Show You Something - Ominis x FemMC

Sooooo Hogwarts Legacy. I am obsessed. I completed the game, then made a evil Hufflepuff to do foul things and be a menace to the wizarding world. I fly around Hogwarts all the time. I'm currently living my best life.

And I love Ominis, Sebastian of course too, but Ominis just ahhhh he's so presh!! Like I just wanna protect my boi.

So here's a lil something for him. Nothing explicit and no spoilers. Just a fluffly fluff piece! I did my best to write using his view point, but I've never had a blind character before sooo sorry in advanced.

I like to imagine that when he has his wand he sees similarly to how 2003 Ben Affleck Daredevil sees. Like an echolocation type. Would actually love to do a cool rain scene like in the movie with Ominis, but I digress.

Summary: Ominis finds himself following the Fifth year due to his burning curiosity about her. He ends up finding more than he expected.

Word Count: ~ 1,780 words

Read more of my Ominis Fics Here!

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

He can feel her as she hurries through the halls, pausing on occasion to listen for anyone else. At this time of night, and with curfew rapidly approaching, he can only make out one or two other students in these lonely halls. She continues and he does the same after her.

 He doesn’t mean to follow her, but he can’t help himself. Not only due to his curiosity as to where she goes after meeting with him and Sebastian in the Undercroft, but because she’s magnetic. It’s the only word he could describe her. Ever since she first stepped foot into their Charms class and even when she blasted dear Sebastian off the dueling platform, he could sense a distinct aura surrounding the new fifth year. Something unlike he’s ever sensed before. It actually answered his question as to how a fifth year could even join Hogwarts, let alone be expected to thrive. If he could sense the aura she possesses, then he was positive others could as well.

He chastises himself as he trails after her, her footsteps echoing in the empty stone cooriders while he maintains his silent walk. He doesn’t mean to follow her. He truly doesn’t, yet he can’t stop himself. This feeling. This presence she possesses. It’s driving him mad as to why, or how, she is the way she is. How eager he is to be within her presence. But, another nagging feeling bubbles up within him at what she does on her own. While she’s spoken to him about some of her ‘adventures’, he gets the distinct impression she’s leaving many details out. 

Her footfalls stop again, making him do the same. He strains his ears and he swears he hears a door open then swiftly shut. He frowns when she suddenly disappears from his probing. He rounds the corner and retraces where she went, but he can’t find her nor any doors to slip into. It’s like she just vanished. His brows furrow while he recalls this being near the stairwell towards the Astronomy Tower. There shouldn’t be any areas in which she could just-,

“Why are you following me?” Her voice cuts him from his thoughts and he whirls around to find her standing in the middle of the hallway. He struggles to regain his composure at her sudden reappearance, his mind scrambling to comprehend how she reappeared in the hallway with nary a room to hide in. And the Disillusionment Charm wouldn’t hide her either, he’s sure of it. He replays the question in his mind. She didn’t sound accusatory. No. She sounded amused more than anything. Like a cat that’s caught their prey.

She approaches him, “Ominis?” 

“Yes?” His voice strains to keep himself level sounding while he gathers himself. He has no good excuse as to why he’s following her. Nor any reasons as to why he would be here other than what he’s doing. 

He can feel her eyes on him, studying him. He wonders if she’s concluded the same thing he has. The thought sends shivers down his spine.

“It’s nearly curfew.” She states. 

“Indeed it is.” He cranes his head towards her with a raised brow, “Yet here we are.” 

“Here we are.” She lets out a soft laugh and he can’t help but smile at the sound. She steps closer to him, looking around to ensure they were still alone, before she whispers, “Well, since you’re here, for whatever reason, may I show you something?” 

Ominis internally winces at the jab. She’s offering to show him something? He makes a silent prayer it’s no trick before saying, “I-, yes. You may.” 

He picks up on her slight nod of approval as she replies in a quiet voice, “It’s a secret though. So you mustn't tell anyone. Not even Sebastian.” 

Ominis nods, “I promise.” 

She steps away then goes towards a wall, “This way.”

He hears a door open and he’s quick to follow her through. 

Sounds of cauldrons brewing, plants being watered, and a fire crackling greet him. There’s books flying to and fro while candles gently glide above them. He can smell fresh soil and a simmering pot of Wiggenweld over the slight stench of dung lofting in the distance. He takes this room in while she watches him.

“Where are we?” He finally asks.

“I suppose this is my own secret room. It’s called the Room of Requirement.” He can hear the smile in her words as she adds, “Since Sebastian showed me the Undercroft, it’s only fair I show you a secret place of my own.” 

She walks away towards a set of stairs, “This way.” She pauses then fully looks back at him, “How do you feel about beasts?” 

Ominis’ brows furrow once more, “I don’t fear them, if that’s what you’re wondering. Why do you ask?” 

“You’ll see.” 

He follows close behind while she leads them to a strange doorway. One which his wand struggles to comprehend for him. It’s almost like a portkey or portal of sorts. She stands next to him, watching as he hesitates on what to do next. Her hand grazes his. He hates himself for flinching at the sudden contact, but he’s relieved when her hand wraps around his own. The electric aura she possesses shoots through his arm like a hot current. 

“Trust me. I think you’ll like what this surprise is.” She gives him a soft squeeze and he can only nod in reply. 

She steps through the strange doorway first and he follows right behind. The air whooshes around them then he’s met with the sweet trill of bird song. He feels the warmth of the sun on his face and the gentle breeze ruffling his robes and hair. The air is as crisp as an autumn morning and he takes in the serene atmosphere for a moment.

“We’re outside?” He shakes his head. No, it wouldn’t be daylight quite yet.

She squeezes his hand once more, “In a way, yes. We are currently in a Vivarium.” 

“A Vivarium?” He hums to himself as he pieces together why she had questioned him about his affinity towards magical beasts. “How do you know of this place? When did you even find this?” 

He has so many questions, but she only giggles.

“I’ll tell you all about it. I promise. But, first,” She guides him forwards towards a clearing,“let me show you the surprise.” 

He sucks in a sharp breath at the presence of a large beast in front of them. He doesn’t realize he’s clenching her hand until she whispers, “Don’t worry. She won’t hurt you.” 

The beast approaches, giving a snort as she stops in front of them. Ominis realizes what beast this is.

“A unicorn.” He says in quiet shock. 

“Yes. Have you ever been around one before?” 

He shakes his head and she gives him a gentle squeeze. He can’t stop his slight smile at her touches while she asks, “Would you like to pet her?” 

He gulps then nods. She guides his hand up then towards the beast. As he awaits the unicorn, his chest flutters in anticipation. A wet nose brushes against his palm before it fully presses into his hand. A surprised chuckle escapes him. She guides his hand up the unicorn’s snout then back down again. Much to his dismay, her hand leaves him and he’s left to pet the unicorn on his own. 

“I’ve read of unicorns,” Ominis grins, “and their calm, serene nature. I fear the books did not do them justice though. They’re beautiful.” He whispers. 

As Ominis lowers his hand back to his side. The Unicorn nudges his cheek with a parting snort. He listens as the beast trots away on the lush grass and he’s left with a sense of wonder. 

“I think she likes you.” She smiles, pulling him from his thoughts once more. He can’t stop his smile as he takes in his friend next to him. How easily she pulls people into her. Into her warmth. He’s thankful for Sebastian’s insistence on including her into their lives. 

“Thank you. For showing me this. I won’t soon forget this kindness.” 

Her hand finds his once again and she guides him back towards the exit, “It was truly my pleasure, Ominis. I suppose it’s a good thing you have a coincidental knack of being where I am.” 

His mouth falls agape and he wants to defend himself against her accusation, but her gentle laugh and even softer squeeze of his hand makes him fall silent for a moment. 

“I don’t mean to. Truly.” He whispers. “With everything going on. You sneaking away from the castle. The poachers. The goblins. Even with what you do tell Sebastian and I, I know you’re keeping most of what you do to yourself. I… worry for you. Much like I do for Sebastian. I don’t wish for any harm to befall you. Either of you.” 

The air whooshes around them and they’re back in the Room of Requirement once more. 

“I don’t mind, Ominis. And I’m sorry. I don’t mean to worry you.” Her other hand rests on his forearm and more electric currents shoot across his body. “Do know that I am able to take care of myself. And I try not to throw myself into danger’s way too often.” 

Ominis snorts with a slight shake of his head, “I don’t doubt your capabilities. Far from it.” 

A bell tolls and she lets out a disappointed sigh.

“Curfew?” He wonders. 

“Indeed. I must now also apologize for keeping you for so long.” 

They walk down the stairs and towards the exit.

“Don’t. I would gladly serve detention if it means petting a unicorn once more.” Ominis smirks then adds, “That is, if I get caught anyways.” 

She laughs while she holds open the door for him to walk through, “I swear you almost sounded like Sebastian for a moment.” 

Ominis smiles and a silence falls between them as they stand out in the lonely hallway. Her hand gives his one final squeeze before letting go, taking the warmth he feels with her. 

“Well, I hope you have an uneventful walk back to your dorm.” She whispers. “I shall see you tomorrow at breakfast, yes?” 

He nods, “Sounds wonderful. Have a good night, my friend.” 

“And you as well, my friend.” She smiles then turns on her heel to head towards her dorm. He stays there, listening to her footfalls as they drift away. He can still feel the echoes of her warmth in his hand while he sneaks his way back to his common room. A smile unable to leave his lips.

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

AN: Hopefully you enjoyed! Let me know what ya think and if anyone wants to discuss Hogwarts Legacy, don't be afraid to reach out cause my oh my am I just reeling over the ending.

Read more of my Ominis Fics Here!

[supercriminalbean]

Jets of panic.

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader. 

Summary: After a bad case Reader has a bad panic attack on the Jet and Spencer helps calm them down. 

Warning: Panic attacks, anxiety, mental health, bombings, death, blood, school bombings, slapping, crying, angst, fluff. (If I have forgotten anything let me know)

Words: 1.8k

A/N: I rewrote this/ edited this in 10 minutes and then got bored near the end so I'm sorry for the rough ending but I tried its been a long day. I wrote this last year before I knew how to write (spoiler I still can’t write) so yeah I would love some feedback, thank you enjoy.

As you sit there on the jet couch, staring off into space. Beginning to daydream as the team starts their debriefing of the last case. Your head is buzzing, with the events of the last few days, still trying to process everything you have been through. This case wasn't the worst that you have had, but that doesn’t mean it was easy. It's never easy when you watch someone you were meant to save die right in front of your eyes, and manage to get out of the situation, with only a concussion and small scratches.

~~~

You can’t help but let the bombing replay over and over again in your mind. The way you fell to the ground, unable to move for a good minute. Only able to open your eyes and watch as the student you were escorting out of the building lay lifeless in front of you, her eyes staring straight into your soul. Everytime you try to close your eyes, you just see her face staring back at you, a feeling of helplessness and guilt filling you up, knowing it should be you instead. The room is a blaze, you can feel the room starting to heat up, but still your body refuses to move. Your ears are ringing from the loud blast, your mind unable to process what is happening in the moment, until you feel a pair of hands on your body pulling you up. Your eyes shoot over landing on a pair of scared eyes belonging to Morgan. Who you know must have run inside the building, after the explosion. 

“Save her, we need to help her” Your words are a mess, as you try pulling away from him, your strength suddenly returning to your body.

“We need to go, there’s no time,” Morgan says firmly. Wrapping his arm around your waist pulling you along with him. Ignoring your pleas to go back and help the girl, his mind is more focused on the second bombing in the building. 

~~~

Your mind stays centred on replaying the scene over and over again, focusing on the girl's face. Never hearing Hotch call out to you repeatedly, the whole team now watching you worried. They all know you’re taking this case hard, going internal rather than speaking about your worries. Morgan, who's sitting beside you, places a hand lightly on your shoulder to get your attention. You jump quickly, so far away in your own mind, you didn’t even notice that your hand had gone up as you turned round to face him. Only realising when the smack echoes around the jet, a gasp leaves your lips as your eyes widens. Fear and panic spreading throughout your body.

“I'm so sorry” You squeak out, As you spirit off to the bathroom, before anyone could stop you. Locking the door as you fall to your knees.

~~~

Tears are flowing down your face, as you lean against the door. Heart racing away in your chest, as you struggle to breathe. You're fully aware that you're having a panic attack, but your team is right outside the door, so you know you have to do your best at staying quiet. Pulling your knees up to your chest, hiding your head between your knees, allowing the tears to roll down, as your mind continues to race. You didn't mean to hit Derek, you just got startled. One of your reactions is to spin around, but your hand was already up and apparently had different plans. Morgan must hate you now, why wouldn't he? You slapped him for no reason. You never wanted your team to see you like this. 

~~~

There's a gentle knock on the door, making you jump slightly, you don't respond. 

“Hey (Y/n) can you open the door please, we just want to make sure you're okay” JJ's soft voice comes through. Shaking your head as a response, deciding to stay verbally quiet. You weren't ready for everyone to see you like this.

“Come on (Y/n) please, just let us check on you okay?” JJ sighs softly, knocking again. The whole team became filled with worry, when they saw you run off to the bathroom, after slapping Morgan. Morgan was shocked when he realised you had slapped him, more concerned than anything else. He got up straight away, wanting to go after you. But Hotch stopped him, wanting to give you some space to calm down first.

~~~

You wipe the tears off your face, but somehow they seem to keep flowing. You hear more footsteps approaching as a harsher knock comes against the door.

“(Y/n) open the door now, I don't want to have to kick it down but I will” Morgan sighs, looking at JJ with concern. “Come on kid, you're worrying us” Morgan's voice calls out, gentle but harsher than JJ. You close your eyes tired, pulling at your hair feeling stressed out. You don't want people to see how broke you are. You get that they are worried about you, but you just can't deal with it, not right now. Hearing more rushes footsteps quickly approche, the talking outside, sounding like an argument beginning to break out. It soon goes quiet as you hear the footsteps walking away.

~~~

It stays quiet for a minute, before you hear a soft knock on the door.

“Hey (Y/n/n) its Spence, I've sent the others away, can you just unlock the door for me?” Spencer speaks softly, his voice calming you. Slowly you reach up unlocking the door, moving out of the way so he can open it. The door opens quietly, he slips inside before closing it behind him. He looks down, spotting you leaning against the wall. Staying silent, he joins you on the floor, breaking his heart as he sees you like this. Your face stained with tears, your hair a mess where you were yanking at it. 

“Are you alright?” He asks after a bit of silence, turning to watch you. Shaking your head faintly, your tears having finally stopped. Spencer places his hand carefully on your knee, rubbing a circular pattern. Gradually you lean your head on his shoulder, your heart still pounding away. While your mind now just feel empty and froggy. Feeling like you can’t even think straight even if your mind has just fallen quiet all of a sudden.

~~~

“Morgan okay?” You finally speak, your voice is rough due to the crying.

“He's fine, he's worried about you, everyone is” Reid speaks gently. His hand is still drawing patterns on your knees, the sensation helping calm you. 

“I didn't mean to slap him” You let out a heavy breath, closing your eyes. 

“We know, It was a good hit though” Spencer smiles at you gently, earning a small laugh.

“I don't want to go out there, not yet” 

“We don't have to, we can stay in here as long as you need” Smiling weakly as you listen to Reids breathing, matching his. Helping slow your racing heartbeat down to a normal pace. 

~~~

“Spence, can you tell me something, just anything please?” You ask faintly. Feeling tired and weak, keeping your eyes closed. Reid stays quiet for a bit, thinking.

“I was thinking about entering a chess tournament this weekend, but I think that would be a bit unfair seeing as I would easily beat everyone,” Reid laughs lightly, earning a small chuckle from you.

“You really think you can beat everyone, don't ya Dr Reid” Smirking slightly, opening your eyes. 

“Well I mean, I can easily calculate what moves they will make and be able to beat them in less than 5”

“That is why I don't like playing games with you” You laugh slightly, teasing him.

“It's not my fault you're easy to read (Y/n/n)” Reid teases you back smiling. Happy to see the colour returning back to your cheeks.

~~~

“Are you ready to go back out?” Reid asks, removing his hand on your knee, you nod. Ready to stand up, as your heart starts beating faster and your mind decides to start spinning once more. They are all going to ask you questions, staring at you. What if they are already talking about you, who knows what they could be saying. What if Hotch doesnt think you're fit for the job anymore, and fires you. You can’t lose this job, you don't want to lose your team, your family. Your breathing picks up speeds, finding it hard to breathe once more.

“Hey hey, (Y/N) look at me, look at me” Reid speaks gently, placing his hand on your knee again. You shake your head refusing to look at him, while your mind starts to spin. Spencer places his hand on your cheek softly, turning you to look at him. Tears slide down your face again.

“I'm sorry , I'm so sorry” Crying out, your head dropping, trying to get away from him. Reid doesn't let you, wrapping his arms around and pulling you into his body. Your face hides away in his chest, snuggling into his touch.

“Don't be sorry, it's alright, just listen to my breathing okay” His voice is calm but firm. He starts taking deeper, calming breaths. You start doing the same, keeping in time with him. Listening to his heart beat, closing your eyes, finding peace in his heartbeat. You stay there for a while in silence. Soon he starts humming your favourite song, earning a faint smile from you. Slowly moving your head out of his chest, resting against his shoulder. 

~~~

You two sit in the bathroom, for close to an hour. Once you are fully calm down, thanks to the help of listening to Spencer , talk about random facts. Earning smiles and small comments from you.

“Okay Spencer, I'm ready” Smiling weakly, he smiles back, getting up. He holds a hand out for you, taking it, pulling yourself up. You fix your hair before walking out.

~~~

It's been over an hour since you locked yourself in the bathroom. The team has been extremely concerned about you, but decided to give Reid and you some space. Rossi and JJ are still sitting in the same place talking and laughing, while Morgan and Emily have moved to sit at the back. Emily is reading her books and Morgan has his headphones on staring out the window. Hotch is doing his usual round of after case paperwork, on the table opposite them. Morgan looks up as you walk past, giving you a small smile. Reid takes your hand in his, leading you towards the couch. Taking a seat on the couch, resting your head on his shoulder. Positioning yourself, so that you're half laying down, with your leg out on the couch. Spencer wraps his arm around you, holding you close, as your body begins to relax, feeling at home in his arms. Closing your eyes, knowing you need to deal with everything that has happened. But, you can do that when you land, as you let yourself drift off to sleep in Spencer's arms.

[elsa-fogen]

Breakfast AU drives me insane anytime I think I’ve recorded from my hyperfixation you release a new chapter and I scream. I loveeee Angel’s reaction like I feel him sooo hard. I’m curious as what Carmilla’s reaction is. I don’t think Carmilla is as cruel as other overlords as she said she doesn’t want blood on her face but I feel like either way this is gonna be a shock to all overlords except Rosie. Alastor has been gone for so long they probably have just forgotten about his Radio broadcast and they all know how Alastor doesn’t go to normal sinners. I think some definitely get nervous worried if there next and Carmilla definitely starts to worry for her daughters both of them being easy targets to ge at her. Odette and Clara are both around the same age as Velvette too which probably scares Carmilla the most. I bet Carmilla probably replayed the meeting scene in her head trying to think if Alastor did anything suspicious so she can better protect her children. I think Carmilla probably feels a little guilt about Velvette too. She should have known better that to let someone so young go run around without proper guidance.

I've said it already somewhere but!!! Alastor never disappered in this AU! And he's at his full power! But yeah, he haven't done his scream sessions in a long time now so everyone kinda forgot what he's capable of. He was kinda silly radio dude who drops dad jokes and plays laugh track himself and chills in cannibal town. So Vees, who even weren't around in Alastor's best years heared only stories, then looked at him and were like "This dude? killed 100500 ancient overlords? nah he's just a guy, wht he can do"

I think Vee's attitude made Alastor realise that his reputation of Big & Scary faded and he needs to remind everyone who he is.

I think if Carmilla was around when Alstor appeared, she made sure to protect herself and her children from him when invited Alastor to their overlord party. Maybe threatening him with angelic weapon? although i don't think that threats would work with Alastor, he'd do something out of spite

But yeah, i like the thought that she also feels guitly for what happened to Velvette. Maybe she would even be able to understand why Alastor went after her. Maybe she'd figure that Rosie ws there too...

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

my favorite mulder moments from s3

when he’s dead in episode 1, in the afterlife being urged to return to his body, and it is only only hearing that his sister isn’t there which convinces him to come back to life (we can analyze this for years and we should!)

after their narrow escape from the disease center in episode 2, skinner asks what mulder could possibly hope to find in his wildest dreams. his answer: “why they killed my father. and what happened to my sister. and what they did to agent scully” which pretty much proved that she is part of his family to him <3 and he just wants to protect his family and keep everybody safe... i'll cry

and despite how badly he wanted the truth and was willing to risk it all, he agreed to turn the tape they had nearly died over so they could come out of hiding, so scully could see if her sister was okay (AUGHHH putting his life's ambition on hold for her...)

(this is more to do with behind the scenes stuff, but there’s a little moment in episode 7 where his hair is all messed up, and then in the very next shot it’s all fixed again, and i thought it was so funny to see, because you could tell he got retouched between takes)

in that same episode there’s also a moment where he keeps replaying a mysterious noise over and over again. scully asks if he has found anything, and he replies “no, but i’m really beginning to like the tape” with a big goofy smile <3

in episode 9, he has his office set up like a movie theater, with his feet tossed up on on the desk. he is SO excited to show scully the alien autopsy video he ordered from a magazine for $29.95!!!

then he comments that “it’s widely held that aliens don’t have blood, scully” with great seriousness which had me LOSING it. yes of course, mulder, she CLEARLY should have known!

(later in that episode, skinner comes down to scold them, and asks why they’re even in pennsylvania, to which he says that they’re here on a “video piracy case” <- LMAOOOO least convincing lie ever told)

also in episode 9: his line “you think believing is easy?” followed by letting that sit for a bit, exploring the tensions and implications- how hard it is for mulder to keep the faith that there are answers in this world, and perhaps even justice to go along with them. how it doesn’t come as naturally to him as you may think, it’s about hope and protecting your loved ones and doing whatever it takes, killing or dying, to learn the Truth, because the Truth is hope

(at this point in taking notes, i proceeded to ramble on for like a paragraph with Intense Emotions, and even talking about this episode again is making me want to go on a lecture tour about how fantastic it was)

in episode 10, a passenger on the train with her child sees the dead body of a doctor and screams. mulder pivots, tells the woman that the doctor is just sick, smiles, and ruffles the kid’s hair

(he ruffles another kid’s hair in episode 23… don’t think i didn’t notice)

angrily quoting scripture in episode 11

(and he also says he considers the bible to be poetry rather than a literal history in this one, which i think is fascinating)

sitting in his car, watching the night sky in episode 12, when he asks over the phone: “look scully, i know it’s not your inclination, but did you ever look up into the night sky and feel certain that not only was something up there, but it was looking down at you at the exact same moment, and was just as curious about you as you are about it?” goshhh what a wonderful way to see the world... a universe of mutual curiosity with answers that can be found if only you are dedicated enough to hunt for them

dr. ivanov’s little bug robot liking mulder and following him around <3 someone pls get him a cat!!

AND that episode wrapup: “the development of our cerebral cortex has been the greatest achievement of the evolutionary processes. big deal.” <- it had me absolutely giggling… as a profiler and student of the human brain, it really IS a big deal!! he knows that!! but he was so angry about how it all went down his bitterness won that day lmaooo

(BUT ALSO: he wakes up in his JEANS in this episode??? what kind of dude SLEEPS in his JEANS... we need to launch a full federal investigation)

when he tries to call to the kitty in episode 14 <3

and then he goes to the library to read up on gargoyles, but he was pulling so many all-nighters that he just straight up fell asleep on the table, and it was So Cute

in episode 15, he knows that "ronin" is the term for a samurai without a master, which made me laugh (and he claims he knows it from watching samurai movies… nerd!)

when he hops into an empty grave in episode 19 and starts digging with his hands while someone yells “what the hell is he doing!” and scully watches, knowing that is the sort of behavior he is just hardwired to do

mulder (possibly) eating an entire sweet potato pie in episode 20. narrative-wise we shall never know the truth.

how intensely attached he is to skinner being revealed in episode 21; how he believes whole-heartedly that he is innocent even when all of the evidence is against him. how when skinner dismisses his case as none of their business mulder counters with "of course it is", as if there was no other option. how he listens to skinner’s stories of terror in vietnam. how he is disappointed skinner won’t tell him what really happened that night. if you want to cry, go watch that scene where he leaves skinner's office realizing he won't talk about it. it made me emotional.

(he also pulls a giant book off his shelf in that episode and flips to the page talking about succubi, which makes me wonder what other kinds of literature he keeps in his office, pls let me come browse)

((there is also a moment where he gets really angry and pushes his jacket back with his hands on his hips and i swear my heart nearly stopped))

episode 22’s “i know the difference between expectation and hope. seek and you shall find, scully” it's just SO good and so Him

when he visits her motel room in episode 23 and gets all cozied up on her couch to talk case theories... i was giggling!!!

how he tries so hard to be brave and hold it together when she is missing in that one, too- calling her mother to check where she is, apologizing for disturbing mrs. scully because he knows how intense this must be for her after everything her daughter has gone through, bouncing his basketball in his apartment to keep himself moving, how he tells the lone gunmen with an even voice that she isn’t okay when he needs to go ID a body, and how he kicks the door of the man who got them involved with this case, forgoing answers for her. ripping my hair out from all my emotions btw.

mulder being convinced that he could talk scully back into her senses even after she shot at him (!!!) and refusing to accept her mother’s answers that she wasn’t at her home

when he visits scully in the hospital after her wavelength-induced psychosis, he enters the room with his hands up, jokingly surrendering after she had held him at gunpoint. because he cannot be serious ever, and he Needs to make a joke and lighten the mood, to try and make her feel comfortable. 

AND how he turns the TV off when he enters, knowing what the TV did to get her there. and how he leaves after a while, whispering “why don’t you try and get some rest?” on the way out, so scared to have seen her like that, wanting to give her all the time she needs to recover <3

in the finale he sits by his mom in her hospital bed; he holds her hand, notices she is cold and covers her with a blanket (gosh that one made me inconsolable- scully was talking to him and he couldn't even respond, because his mom was cold, and he needed to fix that, to make her comfortable)

he touches her hair and whispers “mom”, and smiles at her when she opens her eyes, saying everything is going to be okay; then later, he’s crying as he holds her hand to his cheek, and i’m crying too

and when they go to meet up with “jeremiah smith” later, he makes scully get behind him, holding the only weapon that could kill jeremiah in his hands and standing in front of her to keep her safe

[99hook]

Hello ma'am. Glad you had fun at aew. I have an idea if you don't mind. So I was thinking like Jack has Anna attack Hooks y/n and she is sent home to recover. Hook spends time with her at home. Yn wants to take this opportunity to have some "alone" time with Hook. But everytime she initiates anything he shuts it down.

She starts to have doubts about herself or if he is stepping out on her. She confronts him about it and explains that he feels bad for allowing her to get in the middle of his feud with Jack. And ya know they work it out and then smut. 😈

I was originally going to add it to the ones I did but you are queen of the fics and I was hoping to see what you do with it. ❤️

18+

———

He felt like he failed at the most important thing that he ever tries to do. Protecting you.

Even though you were as tough as they come and had the outstanding ability to hold your own against whoever challenged you, he still watched your every move with intensive care, waiting for the moment when you’d need him as your backup.

But when the moment came, he couldn’t get to you in time.

He can’t stop replaying the scene in his head. Botched moves happen all the time but not like what happened almost a week ago.

The two of you were being ambushed by Jack and Anna. It was all planned, but the outcome certainly wasn’t.

Jack threw Hook over the ropes, landing him on his spine against the side of the ring. You and Anna’s brawl had made it to the turnbuckles in the corner of the ring. She picked you up and hoisted you on the top one. The intention was for you to bring her up and sell a risky move from the top turnbuckle that, in a perfect world, would’ve been similar to your partner’s signature suplex.

All Hook remembers is hearing the crowd simultaneously gasp before Anna shouted out, “Get the medics, now!”

He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget that feeling in the pit of his stomach. A nauseating, gut wrenching coil that made him woozy as he ran to where you were limply laying on the outside of the ring.

Everyone broke character that night and nobody cared. There was blood pooling on the mat and Hook was quick to snatch his wrist tape off and hold it to the laceration on the side of your forehead, attempting to slow it down while the medics took what felt like forever to get to you.

You were dazed and couldn’t move. There was a sharp, stabbing pain shooting through your ribs, nearly paralyzing you when he attempted to roll you onto your back.

You let out a pained cry and it breaks his heart every time that sound decides to haunt him. Jack was standing behind him with Anna, both of them frantically scanning the entrance for the medics.

“YN” He cradles your face, “YN, hey! Stay with me! Don’t go to sleep, alright?”

Your eyes rolled back and he lost it. The cameras panned in on him, his voice overpowering the mixed reactions from thousands of fans when they realized this was not scripted at all.

“Jack, go get the fucking medics! Now! Go!” He demands, sending his opponent racing up the ramp.

“YN” he tries again, gently tapping your cheek. “Come on, YN! Keep your eyes open! Please, baby, keep them open for me!”

Anna reached down and held pressure to the deep wound, your blood staining her fingers and Hook’s entire palm and forearm. She kept looking back to the ramp waiting for Jack to bring out the medics and time was a crucial factor to the point that Hook took it upon himself to get you the help you needed.

“Keep her awake” he tells Anna before he sprints towards the stage. Within moments he was back with five medics and a gurney in tow.

He watched their every move carefully, his hand squeezing yours tightly as they strapped you down and rolled you back to the awaiting ambulance in the garage. He never left your side that night, and doesn’t plan to still.

You were granted time off to heal so he took the time off to be with you. Your fractured ribs, a concussion and stitches served as cruel reminders that he just couldn’t keep you as safe as he was supposed to.

It was unbearable for him to see every time you struggled to get out the bed. He felt his heart cracking down the center each time he had to watch you clutch your side in pure agony when the jolts of sharp pain shot through you.

He wasn’t sleeping, barely eating, just waiting on you hand and foot because to him, it was the least he could do. He was the reason you were injured in the first place. If it wasn’t for him, you would’ve never been involved in the feud between him and Jack.

You were feeling better, though. He just didn’t believe that. After a week and a half of him tending to your every need, all you wanted was to show him how thankful you were to him. But every time you tried, he would muster up some excuse as to why he doesn’t want to.

It was starting to get to you. The way he would retreat from your lips when you kissed down his neck. How he kept stopping your hand from slipping beneath the waistband of his sweats. He never used to do that. Usually you could just give him a single look and he was taking you to the bedroom, but now you can’t even get him to kiss you fully.

It was late when you asked a question that had been sitting on the tip of your tongue. Side by side in bed, both barely watching what was playing on the tv. You both had a million thoughts swarming around in your scrambled minds, but for completely different reasons.

“Tyler” you whispered, your eyes falling to the sheets that covered you. He hummed in response, keeping his tired, low eyes on the screen.

“Are you cheating on me?”

His head snapped to you instantly, brows knitted tight under the disheveled hair over his forehead.

“Am I cheating on you?” He repeated as if he was taken back by the question.

“You haven’t wanted to touch me at all. You haven’t even been kissing me the same way since-“

“You’re injured.” His deep voice cuts you off. “And why would you ask me if I’m cheating on you? I’ve been here with you every single day since you got hurt.”

“Because you refuse to touch me!” You didn’t mean to get as loud as you did. “Like, I try to kiss your neck and you pull away from me. Every time I try to do anything you stop me! You never do that, so I can’t help but think that something’s going on-“

“A lot is going on, YN. But nothing like you’re thinking. I would never cheat on you, ever. I thought you knew that already.”

He looked hurt. Genuinely saddened by the fact that you felt this way and you actually had to ask him whether or not he remained loyal to you. That was never something he ever thought he would have to hear from you. He aims to make you feel like the only girl in the world every single day and now it’s just another thing that he evidently failed at doing.

He sighs as he drops his head, running a hand through his hair.

“Baby” he breathes out, “I can’t stand seeing you like this, especially knowing it’s all my fault.”

“Nothing was your fault.”

“It was all my fault!” He snaps with a sharp tone. “You wouldn’t have even been brought into this shit if it wasn’t for me.”

“It was an accident, Tyler.” You reached over and rested your hand on his arm, pleased when he didn’t pull away. “And if you remember correctly, we mutually agreed to do this storyline together as a tagteam. You act like you just drug me into it. You didn’t.”

You hoped you were reassuring him, but it was hard to tell. He glanced down at your hand and placed his over top of it, giving it a gentle squeeze before he sighed and dropped his head down again.

“I should’ve been paying attention.” He mutters. “I would’ve been there to break your fall when you slipped or-“

“It was not your fault, baby.” You tell him again. “It was a misstep on me, not you. These things happen all the time. It’s nobody’s fault, it’s just an accident.”

“That could’ve costed you your life.” He interrupts, his eyes widening as the different scenarios of what could have happened bombard him again. “You heard the doctor. You were lucky you didn’t break your neck the way you landed. That’s serious shit, YN!”

“I know it is, but that could literally happen to anyone at any given moment! You can’t beat yourself up because I made a mistake, Tyler. I’m okay. That’s all that matters.”

You slid your hand down his arm and caught his fingers, running your thumb over his calloused knuckles.

“Hey” you whispered, leaning over carefully, your lips lingering over his ear. “I love you, and I want to show you how thankful I am to have you. All the time, but especially during times like this. Please?”

“Your ribs are-“ but you cut him off when he turned his head, capturing his lips with your own.

“Please” you hummed against him, letting a slight moan slip out when he finally deepened the kiss. You felt him moving closer, sliding his hands underneath your hips to ease you down gently while he placed himself between your thighs.

But he hesitated as soon as he felt himself twitch beneath those sweatpants.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss to say, “YN, I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t know how to-“

“Just be gentle and I’ll be perfectly fine.” You breathily whisper before you pull him back down to your lips, desperate for the closeness that’s been lacking since you got injured.

You didn’t know if he was capable of actually being gentle with you, until he proved it.

He tenderly caressed your thigh as he placed a few lingering kisses to your neck. He focused on that sweet spot that earned him a couple soft moans and hums of appreciation but he had to fight the urge to take things to another level like the two of you usually do.

It was a challenge for him to keep his composure after so long of fighting the temptations but he knew he had to be as easy with you as possible, and when you’re fully healed he can take all night with you until you can’t take it anymore.

For now, he just wanted to make you feel what you’d been missing. He wanted to make sure you had no questions about his love for you.

He leaned back and slowly slid your panties down to your ankles and tossed them aside before he slid his sweats down his thighs.

You were needily awaiting what you’d been craving, and he knew it.

He was cautious about bearing too much weight on top of you when he made his way back up to your lips. He kept himself held with his elbows while he cradled your face, slowly and languidly taking his sweet time exploring every inch of your mouth, savoring the flavor on the tip of his tongue.

“I love you, YN” he whispers against them before he pulls back slightly, his eyes strongly holding the contact with yours as if he’s trying to make sure you wholeheartedly believe that. “You’re my one and only. Right?”

You nodded, your heart swelling in your chest as he stroked your cheek with his thumb. He placed one more gentle kiss to your lips before he positioned himself at your entrance. He observed you intensely as he slowly pushed himself in, making absolute sure that you were okay.

Your eyes screwed shut at the feeling of him stretching you out, and he paused.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes” you moaned out, “keep going, please.”

He was hesitant, so he pushed in a little slower. He held himself still despite the fact that his body was pleading for him to do more.

You ran your fingers through his hair, giving the soft locks an encouraging tug.

“Ready?” He asks, struggling to fight the divine feeling of finally being buried inside you again.

“Yes, please” you begged, earning a single nod before he slowly pulls his hips back and to. Your eyes fluttered shut again, but he could tell it wasn’t from pain.

He watched your every reaction until he felt you clenching tighter around him, and he couldn’t help but to drop his head to your shoulder.

“You feel amazing, YN” he breathes against your neck, peppering loose kisses along the way. “So fucking perfect.”

You moaned back to the praises and the feeling of him hitting your sweet spot just right.

He rolled his hips in. The thrusts so slow and steady, yet so powerful at the same time. He was taking the time he needed to really find the rhythm, and knew he succeeded when you let a gasp fly past your lips and a series of louder moans following.

“Right there?” He breathily whispers as he rolls his hips in again. He felt your nails digging into his shoulders, your heart stammering against his chest gently pressed to yours.

“Yes” you croaked out, “Oh my God, Just like that, please.”

“Don’t have to beg me, baby. You know I’ll give you whatever you want.” He continues that same motion. Slow, steady, and strong.

His lips latched to the side of your neck, sucking a deep patch in its place as he reveled in the sound of your broken moans and sighs intermingling through the room.

He sped up slightly when he felt your walls clenching tighter around him, knowing by the way you were hugging him tight that you were getting close.

He pulled himself back up, his lips locking with yours in the midst of another broken moan you couldn’t contain. His hips stuttered once when your tongue roamed over his. If he was standing he would’ve been weak at the knees.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.” He groans.

“I wanna keep doing it.” You say back, before your mouth drops when he gives one more forceful thrust. He watches, making sure that it wasn’t too much, but all you did was reassure him when you dug your nails deeper into his shoulders and your eyes begged him for more.

He obliged, snapping his hips in and out, but somehow just as gently as it was when the trusts were slow and smooth.

Your head pressed back into the pillows, eyes screwing shut when he hit your sweet spot with a stronger force. That’s what you’d been missing and he knew it.

He leans down, the ends of his hair tickling your skin as his lips hover over your ear.

“I gotta hold back right now, baby. But when you’re all better, I promise ima take my time making it up to you. However you want me to.”

He felt a warmth arising around him, matching the feeling in his stomach that was quickly spreading through his entire body.

He twitched again and gave two more strong snaps in as your nails accidentally drew half-moon traces of blood against his shoulder blades. He rode that high out with you, doing his best to prolong it for as long as he could.

You had a vice grip around him preventing him from pulling back when your orgasm hit and all he could do was let himself be completely submitted into that feeling that made his head spin.

One of his hands clutched the pillow while the other one tangled up in your hair as an abundance of low groans and the occasional curse word got lost somewhere against your shoulder.

He felt your heart hammering against his chest and you felt his skipping beats. Breathless and spent, he slowly pulled out of you when your walls finally released him, and lazily fell to your side, gently wrapping one arm around you.

“I love you.” You managed to say between deep, breathy sighs as you ran a hand through his slick hair. He nuzzled into your neck and placed a tender kiss over the discoloration he left moments prior, whispering against your skin, “I love you more.”