#as I try to figure out one of the hardest things I’ve ever gone through

[clingylilhoneybee]

Did you and Teddy break up..?

Yes we did. It was mutual and very amicable but understandably it’s been rough on both of us. We both hold a huge amount of love for each other which made the decision all the more difficult. Neither person did anything wrong to cause the breakup so please don’t try going to him (or me) trying to talk shit because you feel the need to pick a side in the breakup. It’s gonna take some time to navigate what things look like going forward on and offline since he was my person my entire adult life. Biggest changes coming on here in the short term are a possible (likely?) url change since koala was a nickname from Teddy and obviously a lack of posts relating to him.

My mutuals have been so great in their varied levels of support during this time and really helped me realize how much of a rock this community is for me and I hope it gets to continue being that way even as I transition out of my connection to Teddy.

[anxietysslave]

Ranting; A bittersweet goodbye

So starting this off, I think I'm going to start a ranting side of Tumbler as well as the stories. Sometimes sharing thoughts and feelings out into the open can help others, or can help me because people might be able to explain or just conversation. So here's one thought that's been in my head. I think the hardest thing for me to accept is death itself. Or even goodbyes. How do you say goodbye? How do you let those memories go? Recently, a YouTuber I grew up with known as Game Theory retired. Like everyone else, he’s not safe from the decay of time. Or wanting things to go back to how they were. He wanted to settle down and live with his family in the present, rather than through a camera. Which I understand completely. But at the same time… It hurts. I grew up with him. He was someone I looked up to for a long time, along with other YouTubers. And now… He’s going to be just a memory. It’s a bittersweet feeling, isn’t it? It makes me happy seeing them live their lives, but also sad because it means any memories I had are over now. A good start with a bitter-sweet ending. Some say one door closes, and another opens. But where do those doors lead to? It’s not going to be the first childhood idol I’m going to have to say goodbye to. Soon it’ll be the ones I’ve known even longer since I was 5 or 6. The feeling of getting home from school, putting YouTube on, and watching them play old crappy games of the 2000s was such a nice feeling. It brought comfort, joy, and so much more. I still get that, although it does not feel as cloudly, or hazy as it used to. And now, as the days go by, I get older. And they get way older. Someday instead of mourning their channel loss, it’ll be their death. And that’s a hard pill to swallow. These people have never met me, and never will probably. But they’ve all been such a big inspiration to me. They’ve molded who I am today and changed me for the better. At least I hope so.

When school gets tough, or when I’m struggling, their videos help me calm down. Their videos still bring me a sense of peace, even though it may not be as strong as when I was a kid. And I believe a lot of people feel that way. These days are scary, colder, and just so much more different than what anyone is used too. So of course, just like everything around us and ourselves, they change with time. People like to think it’s them that caused it, but it never was. We grew up, our eyes forcibly opened by many factors. And even those who haven’t, they’ve changed a lot since they were a kid. A lot of people say they never do, but all it takes is a look at a picture. Anytime I see photos of me when I was younger, I see a few similar things. But that’s it. My eyes look different, my smile, my hair, my physical appearance, how I present myself, everything has changed. Which is probably why these goodbyes hurt more. I try to go into denial as a coping mechanism. I deny they’re gone; I deny I won’t see them again, I pretend one day I’ll go on YouTube and there’s a new video uploaded an hour ago. But deep down, I know it isn’t going to happen. It’s crazy how YouTube became my coping mechanism in a way. I turned to people like Game Theory or Jacksepticeye, Markiplier, Dantdm, and even more. They have no idea who I am or anything about me. But it feels like they’re almost a parental figure to me. That sounds weird, but I have no other way to put it. So when you say goodbye to them, it hurts more than ever. Because I see them as someone close to me. Maybe it’s a bad thing, maybe it’s not. I can’t say. Human emotions, human thoughts, they’re all so complex. Even for me to understand. I can’t explain anything about why I feel how I do. I’m not a doctor. I’m no neuroscientist. I’m someone who just tries their best to get to where they want to be in life. To learn to find joy in small things like the wind, the cold or warm breeze in the air, the white snow that falls on the ground, and even something as bad as the natural disasters that harm us. I’m not a genius or anything of that sort. And even they can’t explain the reason we feel sad, or why we form connections to people we’ve never met or animals. The only thing we all have are estimations. There are no true or false answers. And who knows, maybe one day a goodbye won’t feel so bittersweet, or maybe I can come to terms with the fact that those who pass on are no longer here with us on this earth. That’s weird, isn’t it? I understand death, but at the same time, emotionally I don’t understand it. My brain can’t seem to grasp or doesn’t want to grasp the fact that someone’s gone. That I can never see them again. And although the Game Theory creators, Mat and Steph are not dead, it hits that way to me. In a way at least. 

I just wish them well in their next chapter. This ones come to an end, and all the fans can agree that it's been an amazing and long one. So many times everyone would debate these theories or help look for evidence. Others would argue about whether it's right or wrong, and then a lot of the time Mat would be proven right. I wonder, what journey will we all take next? What will be the start of our new chapters as we enter 2024?

Requests and other related stuff: https://www.tumblr.com/anxietysslave/708212002841083904/masterlist?source=share

[dumbbitchfrommars]

You know when you get sick and it feels like you’ll never feel healthy again? Like you’re afraid you’ll never get better or ever feel what it was like to be healthy again.

The lover of life is death. They go hand in hand. We’ve all been touched by death at some point of another. So why fear it?

I’m certainly not ready to die just yet. I have so much to live for. But at the same time, I’d understand if I woke up tomorrow and found that I had moved onto the next life. Not that I’d know- I think that’s how god likes it.

My point is, I’m trying and will continue to try harder to live my life to the fullest every moment of every day. Life is duality. Life is hardship and pain. I’m alive when I’m hurt. I’m alive when I’m depressed. I was alive when I was cutting myself. I was also alive when I had sex for the first time on acid. I was alive when I fell in love. I’m alive every time I swim in the ocean or see the sunset or encounter someone else just trying to live the best way they know how.

I’m uncomfortable majority of the time. Maybe living = discomfort? Maybe the secret is finding comfort in the discomfort?

I have such high expectations for life and it’s disappointed me so much. By the time I figure out how to appreciate things as they come, which is apparently very hard for me, half my life will have gone by. And I’ll probably look back and scold myself for wasting so much time never quite figuring it out. I already am. Like a mouse on a wheel. I can’t quite crack the code.

Just how god wants.

God, I love you. You’ve given me this life. My family, my opportunities, my blessings. But you are so sick and twisted for enjoying teaching us all these hard lessons on an endless repeat. And I’m just as sick and twisted for enjoying learning them in the hardest of ways.

This is why I was chosen to be ruled by Saturn. I somehow thrive in this difficulty.

I’m supposed to be complaining about how depressed I am but somehow I’ve spun this situation and all of my problems into something positive. The old me is coming back after all! The one part that I’ve always admired, appreciated and respected.

I’m feeling admired, appreciated and respected at work. It’s different. I need to look at where I am now and where I was. Yes, I’ve been too focused on where I want to be. I know where I want to be, and that I’ll get there. That’s the future. But right now… the future to my past… I’ve come so far. I was in a very bad place. My job is healthy. My environment is healthy. I can chat about spirituality, family, women, love, friendship. I can laugh and complain and I am heard. Isn’t that crazy? That I was in that energy for so long. And now I’ve levelled up.

Maybe that’s what I’m supposed to be seeing rather than feeling guilt for leaving people that weren’t aligned with my authentic self. Maybe that’s the test. That’s why god has forced me to face the past so wholly, to confront me with it so unexpectedly.

Hello, you. I missed you. I’m sorry if you felt like I abandoned you. Please know the love I had for you, even if it may not exist anymore, was genuine. That’s yours to keep. But sometimes people grow up and move on. For some reason, I do a little quicker than most. Can you blame me for putting myself first? If you failed to prove to me you could protect me, if you failed to protect your SELF… then that’s that. I had to go. I felt those motions. I integrated that pain. Now I won’t let you put me through it again. That’s my respect for me. Nothing against you, I got a pact with me and I can’t break that promise. Not even for you. Especially not for you.

It’s that simple… actually.

So what was this feeling? Was it guilt? Was it me tapping into their pain? Could this be why I have so much anxiety when it comes to the wrong people? Because my intuition knows… for me, it’s not as easy as separating me from them. If I care about you, your stuff becomes mine. And if that’s not morally just or good or pure as I am? Then you’ve got to go. Cause I don’t need your energy rubbing off on me. Uh uh. No thank you. If that makes me a bad friend.. so be it. Because if I’m a bad friend to a bad friend then I’m just a mirror.

[blueeyes-crystalskies]

‪12/2/19, 7:20 PM ‬

(Five years ago now)

‪I guess this whole time it’s just kind of felt like, “what the fuck is point?” because I had a good life. I had a good support system. I had my mom, and my dad, and my sister, and my dog and I didn’t really care about anybody else. I used to feel like I had a best friend who understood me, but then she grew up and became a different person and stopped trying to understand me so she could start to understand herself. Which is fair, I guess. Except she stopped even asking me about me and started talking over me. It’s okay to dive deeper into yourself, as long as you don’t reflect that on the outside, too. As long as you share some air with people around you. ‬

‪Anyways. When it’s the holidays and everybody is home, I feel so full. Like I have everything I need. My mom takes care of us because she’s an angel and I really don’t have to do anything for myself besides basic grooming. She plans out our days. She feeds us. I tag along with whatever somebody else is doing. I don’t even have to fucking think for myself. ‬

‪And I know that’s wrong and I know I shouldn’t let her take care of me like that, but holy shit it feels so fucking good to be taken care of. I cannot stress enough how hard it is to even feed myself. I don’t know how everybody does it. I don’t know where they get the energy. ‬

‪And then I go back to my apartment and the ripped siding by my window scratches against my wall and keeps me up all night. There’s no coffee in the cupboard. There’s some food, but nothing good. Nothing I haven’t already made for myself a hundred times. When you’ve eaten the same thing a hundred times in a row, what’s even the point? I’d rather not even eat. Which I don’t. ‬

‪And then you also realize there’s no one around you to fill the silence. No one in the morning. No one to share the bathroom with. No one to accompany you on the ride to school. There’s people in your classes, but you feel alone anyways. ‬

‪I don’t like my friends. I don’t talk to my friends. And when I do, I feel deeply ashamed. When I do it’s just complaints and I hate myself more for complaining. ‬

‪I don’t see them outside of school because I want to push them away. My roommate is never home. We haven’t really spoken in three months and I’ve known her my entire life. We were so close last year. Now it’s just really quiet. Everything is so, so quiet. ‬

‪I feel like I’ve already lived a full life. The life I wanted. I don’t want to go off on my own anymore. I don’t want to fall in love because at this point I don’t think that exists for me. I can’t even keep a single friend that I like. ‬

‪I feel whole and real when I’m home with my family. Maybe not all the way full, but more than when I’m alone. I feel like I belong to something. And now we’re all getting old and my sister is in another state with her boyfriend and my dog will probably die soon. I haven’t known a father figure in my family that’s lived past sixty years old. Our house won’t always be there. ‬

‪What I’m afraid of most is the one person I really love leaving this earth. The one person who helped me through the hardest times in my life, who takes care of me without giving me reason to feel remorse. Who loves me unconditionally and will always love me unconditionally. My best friend in the entire world. I know she won’t be around forever. Being with her feels like being next to a ticking time bomb. That’s not fair to her. Though none of this is. ‬

‪I can pretend these wounds are healing with time and I can write about them a million more times but I don’t think this will ever change. Maybe in four days I’ll feel better for a little while again but what about after Christmas? What about next semester? What about after graduation? What about the rest of my life? ‬

‪Where does this leave me? When all of this is actually gone for good, what does that make me? Everything I love the most is so impermanent. And that’s so unfair. ‬

‪Each day takes me further and further away from the person I was. I know I wasn’t happy then either, but at least I was safe. At least I knew what was coming the next day and the next and I knew I’d never have to go through it alone. ‬

‪I just don’t know anymore. I just don’t know…

[ticklishtimothee]

our final night alive (simon kalivoda x reader)

summary: the reader and simon are in the bathroom together before it all goes down. and hey, since all their friends are going to “pound-town” as simon would call it, why shouldn’t they?

a/n: i just watched fear street 1994 on netflix and totally fell in love with simon, so i wrote this. i promise i’m working on the requests in my inbox as well, i just had to get this idea out while it was fresh.

words: 1,740

While Kate and Josh go into the girl’s bathroom, you and Simon figure it’s best to leave them alone. So, you follow Simon into the boy’s room, the clothes you’d snatched from the lost and found clutched tightly in your hands.

“Hey, I’ll trade you this Iron Maiden t-shirt for the cardigan,” Simon grins.

“You want to wear this thing?” you ask, raising a brow and holding up the blue knitted nightmare in your hands. You can already tell how itchy the fabric would be against your skin.

Simon nods. “I think it would really accentuate my shoulders. I’ve been told they’re my best feature,” he says, winking.

“Whoever told you that was a liar,” you reply, but toss him the cardigan anyway.

He catches it easily, then tosses you the t-shirt in return.

He wastes no time in pulling the white t-shirt over his head, and you’re thankful to see it gone. It was bad enough that he’d been wearing it for all that time, regardless of the blood stains. You avert your eyes as he strips off his jeans as well.

“Nice tighty-whities,” you mutter.

Simon snorts. “Sorry for putting practicality over fashion.”

“Says the guy putting on a girl’s cardigan to fight monsters.”

“Touché.”

You turn to face the wall, pulling your own shirt over your head, checking your torso quickly for any traces of blood. Finding none, you pull the new t-shirt on.

Out of the corner of your eye, you realize Simon still isn’t making an effort to get dressed. Instead, he’s checking himself out in the mirror, and you can’t tell if he’s goofing off or actually looking for any stains to wash off of his skin.

“You have some blood on your back,” you tell him. “Can’t tell if it’s Sam’s or yours, but better safe than sorry.”

Simon looks in the mirror, tilting his head to catch a glimpse, and furrows his brows. “I don’t see it. Help me out?”

You grab a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and wet them under the sink. “Turn around.”

He does so, and you find the blood in question and wipe it off.

He jumps under the touch. “You couldn’t have used warm water?” he asks, difficult as always.

“I could let this sink run for five minutes and it’d be warm at best,” you reply. “You think this place has the budget for hot water?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I guess so.”

There’s a pause, and you’re still standing behind him, your eyes scanning over the pale expanse of his back, taking in each freckle. His shoulders were pretty nice, actually.

“You know you’ve gotta change your pants, too,” he says.

“Oh, right,” you say, cheeks burning. You go back to the pile of your things. When you look up, he’s watching you. “Am I allowed a little privacy?” you ask.

He smiles. “You could go into the stall.”

You roll your eyes. “Or you could turn around and not be a pervert.”

“Hey, you already saw me in my underwear,” he points out.

You scowl at him, then hook your thumbs into the waist of your pants and pull them down in a quick, fluid motion. You toe off your shoes to take them off entirely, leaving them on the tiled floor. “Happy?” you ask.

His smile fades. “What happened to your thigh?”

You look down and see the injury he’s referring to. Honestly, you’d been so caught up in everything going on, you’d barely noticed the shallow gash in your skin, but now that it was brought to the forefront of your mind, the dull ache began to settle.

“I don’t know,” you reply. “I guess one of those psychos grazed me.”

Simon takes another wad of paper towels. “May I?” he asks.

You nod, and he dampens them under the faucet. “Come put your leg up to the sink.”

You do as he says, wincing at the first contact he makes with it.

“Sorry,” he practically whispers. “I don’t have anything to bandage it up with, but the least we can do is get it clean, okay?”

“Okay.”

His face is close to your bare leg, making goosebumps rise where his nose and lips brush the skin. He’s gentle with you, one hand holding your leg steady while the other dabs at the wound tenderly, and you watch as the red mess slowly begins to clear up, leaving the wound still open but no longer bleeding.

“There, that should be better,” he says. “When we find the others, maybe they’ll have something to patch you up with.”

“Thanks.”

You place both feet back on the ground, standing before Simon, both partially undressed (him more than you) and trying to hide the feelings of terror in both of your chests.

“Do you think Deena and Sam are gonna make up?” you ask. “Oh, I think they’re probably fucking as we speak,” he replies.

You give him a light smack to the back of his head. “You’ve got such a dirty mind.”

“I’m serious! Kate and Josh are probably doing it, too. The whole last-night-on-earth thing gets people horny, don’t you know?”

“Oh, so we’re all gonna be killed by some freaks, so we should be banging?” you ask.

“Are you asking in general, or about us?”

You pause. “Both.”

His cheeks flush pink, and you swear it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him embarrassed. “In general, yeah, I think it’s human instinct to seek out some pleasure before the end. As for us, well...If you’re down, I’m down.”

You stare at him for a second. “Really?”

“Only if you want to, I mean—”

You grab him by the shoulders and kiss him, effectively cutting off his rambling.

In no time, he’s pushed your back against the cool, tiled wall of the bathroom, kissing you back fevertently. You thread your fingers through his blond curls, and he sighs against your lips.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, breathless.

You nod, and he brings a hand between your legs, fingers running over your underwear teasing, making you shiver. 

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Yes,” you reply.

“I’ve never done this before,” he says, unable to meet your eye. “But I have a pretty good idea of what to do.”

“Me either,” you tell him. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out together.”

He nods and pulls you in for another kiss, this time rubbing you through your panties. You whine softly into his mouth.

“Does that feel good?”

“Try doing it a little gentler—oh, yes, like that…”

You can feel his hard cock against your belly as he reaches his hand down the front of your underwear. “Is this okay?”

“Yes, yes, it’s fine.”

Carefully, he finds your hole and presses one finger inside, making you clench nervously at first.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Do you want me to stop?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Try to relax for me,” he all but coos in your ear, and you do so.

He lets his finger slowly curl and uncurl inside you, stretching you out.

“Do you want to…?” you ask.

“I don’t have a condom,” he says, knowing exactly what you were going to ask.

“Well, if you get me pregnant, we’ll probably be dead before it’s even got arms and legs.”

He chuckles, and you appreciate that he’s able to find humor in the fucked up things, just like you.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

He yanks down his underwear, and while you’d teased him about it before, the tight, white fabric didn’t leave much to the imagination. Simon wraps his arms around your waist and hoists you up, bringing you over to the sink and sitting you down on the brim of it.

“There’s no way this thing is gonna hold us,” you say.

“If we break it, we’ll be dead before they make us pay for the damages,” he replies, and you laugh.

He makes quick work of pulling your panties down, and they fall to the floor as he parts your knees. “Please tell me if I hurt you,” he says. “I want it to feel good.”

You nod. “I promise.”

He lines himself up with your entrance, pushing his hips forward. He misses the first time, sort of poking the head of his cock into the crease of your thigh, and you both chuckle awkwardly at the mishap. The second time, he gets closer, but his cock slides upward and between your folds, making your legs jerk in surprise.

“Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

The third time, he succeeds, and the initial stretch of his head entering you makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Should I stay still for a sec? Let you adjust?”

You nod, and so he does.

“You can move now.”

Slowly, he rocks his hips forward, and you manage to take more of him. Without you asking, he waits again, letting you get used to the feeling.

Your nails dig into his back. “You can go, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Simon, I’m sure,” you reply.

“Alright, I’m just double-checking!”

He fucks you carefully, his own movements a bit robotic at first, but when you pull him close to lock your lips together once again, he falls into a rhythm, and your ass hurts from sitting on the stupid sink, but he feels so good, his hot breath tickling your neck as he fucks you.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathes. “I’m sorry, I’m already—”

“It’s fine, don’t apologize. You can come, just try to pull out,” you say.

He nods, and you can see him scrunching up his face, trying to gain some control and keep from cumming. It doesn’t make him last much longer, and he pulls out just in time, and you scoot to the side in a hurry, his come landing in the basin of the sink.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes. “I’m sorry, I can try to finger you again, or something.”

You laugh. “Simon, it’s fine. Some dudes would have come just from seeing me in my underwear. It’s fine.”

He nods, and his forehead is slightly sweaty, hair sticking to it, and his cheeks are flushed.

“I feel bad if you die and I didn’t give you an orgasm,” he says.

“Well then let’s both try our hardest not to die, and you can give me one another time. Deal?”

He grins. “Deal.”

[violetlilysunshine]

Plenty of Times

Boyfriend Chris Evans x Female Reader

Requested - Anon: Hey! Is it all right to request for Chris Evans where reader comes in after a girls night and just dotes on him and loves on him and its sickeningly fluffy and he’s like what’s gotten into you? and reader breaks down because one of her friends vented that her husband is abusive and neglectful and she sees how important it is to have a good man in her life 🤍

WC: 1,619

Warnings: Pet names [bubba, babe, honey], talk of a bad relationship [neglectful husband - but not about Chris/reader], mention of phone sex [but it doesn’t happen here]

A/N: I’m so so so so sorry this took so long, I’m working on clearing out my inbox though! 

IF YOUR NAME IS SCRATCHED OUT I CAN’T TAG YOU - I’VE STARTED REMOVING PEOPLE, SO IF IT’S NOT WORKING AND YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED SHOOT ME A MESSAGE AND WE’LL FIGURE IT OUT

MASTERLIST - Join my TAGLIST

You haven't gone out with your friends in so long. You’re all busy with your own stuff - work and relationships, some with kids to care for. So, when the opportunity arises, Chris encourages you to take advantage of it. 

The night was pretty simple, dinner, a couple of glasses of wine, and a few shared desserts before everyone was ready to head home. Most of your friends were not night owls like you by any standard, so when dinner wrapped up early, it was no surprise. At least that meant you got to go home to your man. 

“Bubba?” you called as you walked through the front door.

“In here,” he answered.

You followed his voice to the living room, finding him lounging on the chaise sofa, Dodger soundly asleep next to him. Some movie played on the screen; you hadn’t paid attention to it long enough to know what it was.

You headed to the connected kitchen, dropping your keys and purse on the island, hanging your jacket on the back of one of the barstools, and slipping out of your boots before hurrying back to Chris. 

He paused the movie when he heard you approach him from behind. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your hands splayed across his chest, as you pressed a long kiss to his temple. 

He hummed at the contact, placing one hand over the top of both of yours, before turning his neck to meet your lips with his. 

The kiss was sweet and simple, you could feel him smile against your lips as you lingered longer and longer into it. 

He chuckled when you finally pulled away, a big smile etched across his face and a glimmer in his eyes. 

You unraveled from his neck and stepped around the sofa. Dodger finally perked up when he heard you walking and you greeted him of course. 

“Hey, bub,” you whispered, scratching Dodger’s head for a second before turning to Chris, “can we cuddle?” you asked quietly. 

“Sure, babe, we can always cuddle,” he answered with a small smile, opening the blanket for you. 

You slipped under, resting between his legs with your back on his chest. He wrapped the blanket and his arms around you, splaying his palms over your upper chest and rubbing gently, just as you had done to him. You ran your nails over his arm as light as a feather with one hand, the other rested on top of his clasped hands, tangling your fingers with one set of his as best you could in this position. 

You tugged on his hand, pulling his arm further over your shoulder so you could place kisses on his bicep. 

“How was girl’s night?” he asked, placing a light kiss to the top of your head.

“Fine,” you whispered, squeezing his hands for a second, “was nice to see everyone. They all seemed to need a good vent,” you ended with a breathy chuckle.

You felt his laugh rumble through your body, “don’t they always?” he asked, another kiss being placed on top of your head as he looped his legs around yours.

“Seems like,” you giggled, stroking his calf with your foot. 

“Well I hope it was nice either way,” he said, “I’m glad you got to see them.” 

“Mm, yeah, me too,” you answered quietly.

He slipped one hand from your grasp to grab the remote, causing a whine to leave your lips, disappearing into his skin as you had your lips placed on his bicep again. 

He chuckled at the noise, “want me to start it over?” he nodded, making reference to the movie.

“No, it’s okay,” you whisper, pressing another lingering kiss to his arm. 

“You sure? I’m not that far into it...” 

“I’m sure, I won’t really be paying attention anyway.” 

“Why’s that?” he asked, you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Can’t focus with you wrapped around me,” you giggled.

“Mm, yeah, sorry not sorry,” he laughed, playing the movie again.

You giggled, bringing his hand up to your lips to give it a kiss.

He gave his other hand back to you and you entwined your fingers with it as well, giving both of his hands small squeezes every once in a while. 

You placed random kisses on his arms, pulling his hands up every now and again to press kisses to them as well. You didn’t want to do it too often, so you wouldn’t annoy him, but you couldn’t help but give him a few. 

You tilted your head to look up at him, his eyes focused on the movie before he looked down at you. 

“What’s up?” he asked, his voice sounding a little tired. 

“Nothing,” you whispered, passing him a small smile. 

“You’re lying,” he said, placing a kiss on your forehead, “what’s on your mind?” 

You sighed deeply, “have I told you how much I love you?” 

He reached over and paused the movie, quickly tangling his hand with yours again: “all the time,” he smiled. 

“And how great you are?” 

“Plenty of times,” he chuckled. 

“And how thankful I am for you?” 

“More than once,” he answered, a sense of questioning coming into his voice. 

“And how kind and good you are to me?”

“Never in those words, but you deserve it more than anything,” he said, “where’s this coming from?” 

“Jenn was really upset tonight,” you started. 

“And that has to do with me, how?” 

“She was talking about how rough her marriage is. And I know everyone says the first year is the hardest, but he doesn’t prioritize her, and never really has, and if I’m being honest I always thought she could do better; and she feels so disconnected from him and he’s so distant and she’s just not happy,” you rambled, tears pricking at your eyes, “and of course the whole time she was talking I felt so bad for her, but I couldn’t help thinking that I’m so lucky to have a guy like you and that made me feel even worse. Ya know? Like guilty because I was sitting there thinking ‘well at least I’m not in her shoes,’ and, god, you’re so good to me and I appreciate and love you so much. Don’t feel like I tell you that enough, but, you’re the best,” you finished, taking a deep breath. 

“Honey,” Chris soothed, “you have absolutely nothing to feel guilty about, first off. It’s not your fault he treats her like crap, and all you can do is support her with whatever she chooses to do about it. She can leave, or they could go to therapy, or she might just ignore it all together, but the only thing you can and should do is listen to her vent and offer support, or sometimes advice if she asks for it.”

You smile, “I know, but it’s just a shitty situation. Like I wish she wasn’t going through it, because she’s great, and I wish he was as good to her as you are to me.” 

“Well no one’s as good as me,” Chris joked, trying to lift your spirits.

You laughed lightly in response, turning over a little bit and scooting up so you could lay face to face with him. 

“Second,” he continued, “I’m only giving you what you deserve. Wish I could do a lot more sometimes, if I’m honest,” he said almost under his breath as he wrapped his arms around your back.

“Chris, you do more than enough! I should be doing more for you!” 

“Babe, you give me everything I could ever want,” he smiles, “you’re amazing. Wish I could do more, like I wish I wasn’t away from you so much. Don’t like leaving you, ever.”

“You’re the best,” you lean forward, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth, “you do plenty for me even when you’re away.”

“Not nearly enough,” he says, “gotta come up with something new for us.” 

“We’ve done plenty of new things while you’re away.” 

“Yeah? You think?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Hey, without you, I never would’ve tried phone sex,” you giggle, “love trying new things as long as it’s with you. Especially that thing...” 

He lets out a breathy laugh at that, “I love you too,” he says, referring back to your ramble but also your willingness to try anything for and with him.

You giggle, this time pecking his lips, “I don’t deserve you,” you whisper against his mouth. 

“No, you don’t,” he says shortly. 

You pull away from him, not expecting that to come out of his mouth. 

“You deserve better,” he smiles, a glimmer in his eye again.

“You’re so corny!” you laugh loudly, causing Dodger to grumble next to Chris. 

“Sorry, bub,” you laugh at Dodge.

“Let’s go to bed, yeah?” Chris suggests.

“What about the movie?” you ask, tipping your head towards the TV.

“Eh, won’t be able to pay attention now anyway, and I’ve lost the flow,” he shrugs. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” you whisper, stroking a few fingers across his cheekbone. 

“‘S alright,” he whispers, “like you better anyway.” 

“Thank you,” you whisper, eyelids heavy as they start to flutter closed for a kiss. 

Chris closes the distance between the two of you, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, “I love you,” he whispers into your mouth. 

“I love you too,” you whisper back.

Your lips seal in a gentle kiss, and he brings a hand up to rest on your cheek before pulling back: “you can always make it up to me anyway,” he says, a smile giving away his attempt at being serious.

You laugh at him, “alright, bubba, let’s get you to bed.”

TAGLIST: @hogwartsmarvelmommy @tulipholland @cupids-crystals @sunwardsss @mrspeacem1nusone @elishi03 @golden-hoax  @patzammit @serrendiipty @katiew1973 @princess-evans-addict @high-on-darren-criss @gnemgn @amelia-song-pond @scorpiowidow @multixfandomwriter @wildxwidow @na-nou83 @fdl305 @gotbangtan @dumbhead1 @evansxchalamet

[rpmemes-galore]

florence + the machine : how big, how blue, how beautiful album ... sentence starters

tw for alcohol & religion

“I know that you're hiding.”

“But you can't live on love.”

“Some things never sleep.”

“Did I build a ship to wreck?“

“But you took your toll on me.”

“It's a different kind of danger.”

“Get out, get up there instead.”

“The damage is already done.”

“Is it too late to come on home?“

“Come on, is this what you want?“

“What kind of man loves like this?”

“Don't make a shadow of yourself.”

“You could never make your mind.”

“Under starless skies, we are lost.”

“If you could just forgive yourself...”

“I knew that this would end in tears.”

“How big, how blue, how beautiful...”

“These hands are not fit for holding.”

“I am teaching myself how to be free.”

“Don't make the mountain your enemy.”

“Who's in control? Who's playing who?”

“Can you protect me from what I want?”

“Some things you let go in order to live.”

“It isn't any use. Somebody's gotta lose.”

“Hold onto your heart, don't give it away.”

“But still you stumble, your feet give way.”

“It's the hardest thing I've ever had to do.”

“Did I drink too much? Am I losing touch?“

“Outside, the world seems a violent place.”

“I know you're bleeding, but you'll be okay.”

“Now there’s a few things we have to burn.”

“'Cause when I sleep, I never dream of you.”

“'Cause there's a hole where your heart lies.”

“You do such damage, how do you manage?”

“Oh, what is it worth when all that's left is hurt?”

“The only thing that's certain is your indecision.”

“And I was making you a wish in every skyline.”

“What's with the long face? Do you want more?“

“Make up your mind, before I make it up for you.”

“'Cause I'm gonna be free and I'm gonna be fine.”

“I think you hide. And you don't have to tell me why.”

“I know there's a part of you that I just cannot reach.”

“We've opened the door, now it's all coming through.”

“And, oh, my love, remind me, what was it that I did?”

“Maybe I've always been more comfortable in chaos.”

“And, oh, my love, remind me, what was it that I said?“

“You don't have to be a ghost, here amongst the living.”

“I don't know how I don't just stand outside and scream.”

“Don't touch the sleeping pills, they mess with my head.”

“The chair is an island, darling, you can't touch the floor.”

“I know you've tried, but something stops you every time.”

“You don't have to let me in... Just know that I'm still here.”

“I can't help but pull the earth around me to make my bed.”

“How do you manage to have me crawling back for more?”

“Maybe I'll see you in another life if this one wasn't enough.”

“So much time on the other side, waiting for you to wake up.”

“And even though I'm grieving, I'm trying to find the meaning.”

“These chains never leave me, I keep dragging them around.”

“You saw the stars out in front of you, too tempting not to touch.”

“And I'm in the throes of it, somewhere in the belly of the beast.”

“You deserve to be loved. And you deserve what you are given.”

“And my love is no good against the fortress that it made of you.”

“Without your love, I'll be so long and lost... are you missing me?”

“Come on, is this what you want? 'Cause you're driving me away.”

“I was moving like I didn't care, but it was more than I could bear.”

“Oh, the king gone mad within his suffering, called out for release.”

“Between a crucifix and the Hollywood sign, we decided to get hurt.”

“You wonder why it is that I came home... I figured out where I belong.”

“While you've been saving your neck, I've been breaking mine for you.”

“I'd already had a sip, so I reasoned I was drunk enough to deal with it.”

“You were on the other side, like always, wondering what to do with life.”

“And the air was full of various storms and saints, parading in the streets.”

“It's the hardest thing I've ever had to do, to try and keep from calling you.”

“Tell me you see it, too. We've opened our eyes and it's changing the view.”

“I'm ready for you whenever, whenever you need, whenever you want to begin.”

“Sometimes you're half in, and then you're half out, but you never close the door.”

[jungwonenthusiast]

can I please request for prompts 2, 5, 10, 12 for hard&soft dom!heeseung and an innocent!fem!s/o from enhypen smut prompt list? prompt no. 5 to be said by the reader while the rest by heeseung

A/N: forgive me if there r any typos lol i hope u like it :)

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral (f recieving), degredation, slight corruption kink

Word count: 2.4 k

You cling onto your boyfriend’s arm as another jumpscare appears on the movie screen. He giggles at you. “Is it gone yet?” you whisper and he nods.

Today was your four month anniversary with Heeseung and you decided to treat him by taking him to a scary movie he’s been wanting to see.You’re not a huge fan of them but you figured it’d be a way for you to cuddle him without raising too much suspicion.

He kept a hand on your thigh throughout the movie, occasionally squeezing and rubbing it over your pants.

You try to ignore the film by keeping your eyes on him. His hands, his legs, his hands, his profile. Anything to distract yourself from the poor family being killed on the screen.

It isn’t long before the movie ends and you walk out to Heeseung’s car.

“The brother was such an idiot. Why didn’t he just call the police?” he says while starting the engine. (haha engene lol sorry)

“The police can’t stop ghosts.” you chuckle.

“Maybe NASA could’ve figured something out.” he grabs your thigh again, it’s kind of his thing. “I’m surprised you survived.”

“Yup, my love for you overcomes my hatred for horror movies.”

He smiles and leans over to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Let’s go to my place.” he says and you frown.

“But all the boys-”

He cuts you off. “The maknaes aren’t there, they’re paintballing in Itaewon.”

You groan. “Fine.”

The boys’ dorm is never your first choice which is understandable without elaboration. But you try not to get annoyed and instead enjoy living in the moment.

He has the windows cracked open and the wind is whipping through his hair, making him look like a moviestar.

Sunghoon and Jake are in their own rooms when you get there so at least there’s some peace and quiet.

Heeseung plops onto his bed. “Come here sweetheart.” he says with his arms out to you.

You smile and snuggle up to him, resting your head on his chest.

He pets your hair and kisses your forehead. “You’re so pretty.”

“You’re prettier.” you say and he chuckles.

“Nuh uh.” he says and sits up. “Lemme see your pretty face.”

You sit up too as he holds your face delicately in his hands. “You’re so gorgeous I wanna kiss you everywhere.” he kisses your forehead, then your cheeks, and your nose, your eyelids, then your jaw, and down, down, down your neck. Your heart beat starts to speed up. You never tell him, but your neck is your weakness. He finally pulls away to give you a proper kiss on the lips.

“C’mere.” he says and pulls you onto his lap. You let out a small squeal.

He holds your waist tight as he kisses you again, this time slipping his tongue into your mouth. You moan a bit, enjoying the sensation.

You guys had made out before and even grinded a bit but it never went further than that. Not because you didn’t want it. Of course you wanted it. There have been nights where you spent hours imagining what it would be like. You already knew that he’d be sweet, but you kind of wanted more than that. You wanted him to take control and boss you around. Maybe today will be the day, you think to yourself.

You start to slowly rock your hips against his and he lets out a low groan. His fingers travel up your hoodie and he’s delighted to find out that you aren’t wearing a bra. He massages you and pinches your nipples a bit as you grind on his hard on. You’re already so stimulated, you could cum just like this.

Heeseung’s curious as to why you’re acting like this today. Usually by now it’d be over, but why would he complain about you being naughty, especially when it’s been such a big fantasy of his to corrupt you. His darling little girlfriend who checks in with her parents everyday and wouldn’t dare to skip school all sprawled out under him, whimpering and begging for release. God, he could think about it all day.

He flips you onto your back and pushes your hoodie up, exposing your torso. Your arms fly to cover yourself.

“Stop that princess,” he kisses your stomach. “Let me see you.”

You slowly pull your arms away and he goes right to kissing your chest. “So perfect.” he whispers, rolling his tongue over your nipples.

You’re already squirming underneath him, eager for him to touch you somewhere else. And as if he read your mind, his fingers start to play with the band of your pants.

He quickly unbuttons them and slides them off your legs.

“Can I touch you?” he asks and you nod eagerly.

“I’ve never done this before.” you admit.

“That’s okay,” he kisses your knee. “Just relax.”

He kisses your neck, licking it and nipping at it, leaving a blooming bruise. Your body tenses as he circles your clit.

“I didn't know you were this sensitive.” he smiles.

You feel your face heat up. It’s kind of embarrassing. He was barely touching you plus it was on top of your underwear.

“I’m just teasing baby.” he kisses your cheek and continues the circling motion.

Soft moans leave your mouth as he does so. He pulls away and notices a wet patch already forming on your underwear.

His fingers slip into the waistband. “Can I touch you here?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “Please?”

“You submit to me so well,” he nips at your neck. “I love it.”

His fingers find your slit and you whine.

“So fucking wet,” he whispers as he rubs your clit. “Did I get you that worked up princess?”

You nod pathetically, already drunk on his touch.

He circles around your hole for a bit before slowly pushing his middle finger into you. You hold on tight to his arm, getting used to the foreign feeling.

He pumps it in and out of you a couple of times. “You ready for another one?”

You nod and whine as his ring finger stretches you out.

“You’re doing so good.” he whispers and kisses your forehead.

Your moans get more and more needy as he curls his fingers in you hitting a spot that you’ve never felt before.

“Fuck,” you whisper.

“Feel good?” he asks and you nod. “I bet it does.”

He shifts down and settles his face between your legs.

“Wait what are you doing?” you ask him, shutting your knees. “I want to taste you,” he says. “Is that okay?”

You contemplate for a moment. The thought of it makes you a bit shy but then you imagined how good it would feel and that won over everything. “Yeah.” you nod and he smiles.

His fingers are still curling in you as he kisses your thighs, leaving small marks on the way down to where you need it the most.

After what feels like years, his tongue finally finds your clit. Your thighs shut from the sudden pleasure.

He chuckles. “Keep em open baby.” he uses his free hand to keep you spread.

He moans into you. “Tastes so fucking good.”

It’s so much to take in at once; his fingers in you, his tongue drawing circles on your clit, the vibrations you feel every time he groans. You feel overstimulated but in the best way possible.

Your fingers tug on his hair as your thighs begin to tremble.

“Don’t stop don’t stop,” you cry out.

His grip on you tightens and he moans into you, encouraging you to cum in his mouth.

A string of curse words leaves your lips as you reach your high, and it’s the hardest you’ve ever came in your life. It’s like you’re floating up in the clouds, and you never want to come back down.

Heeseung kisses you, giving you a taste. He holds you tight in his arms and tries to calm your shaky breathing.

“You did so good doll.” he kisses your cheek.

You hold onto him as your heart rate goes down to normal.

“Here let me go get you a towel.” he starts get off the bed but you grab his arm.

“Wait we’re done?” you ask and he looks at you. “Do you wanna keep going?” he asks and you nod.

“Yes,” you say and he chuckles.

He sits back down onto the bed. “I didn’t expect that.”

You climb on top of him and give him a passionate kiss, sliding your hands under his hoodie.

He pulls it over his head with ease.

You admire his lean body for a moment before kissing his neck and his collar bones. “Can you fuck me please?” you ask him.

He smirks. “Your wish is my command.” he flips you over onto your back and unbuttons his black jeans. Just watching him do it makes you wet.

He climbs over you, rubbing his tip on your clit. He sighs into your neck.

“You ready princess?” he asks and you nod vigorously.

He slowly pushes into you and you wince a bit from the stretch.

“Ow ow ow.” you say quietly and he stops.

“You okay? Does it hurt a lot?” he asks.

“It’s not bad.” you say through gritted teeth.

He kisses you, giving you time to adjust to his length. He pets your hair and tells you how gorgeous you look.

“Please start moving.” you ask him and he listens, slowly thrusting in and out of you.

“Fuck,” he moans. “So fucking tight.”

You whimper so loud as his tips brushes against your g-spot that you clamp your hand over your mouth, worried that Sunghoon and Jake would pick up on what was going on.

He pulls your hand away. “Be louder, I want them to hear you.”

“But-”

“Do as I say sweetheart.” he cuts you off.

Of course you melt under him. How could you not. He’s so perfect. He’s the type of boy that only exists in books.

“What a good girl,” he kisses your shoulder. “Look how well you take it.”

You grab a pillow and cover your face with it, you can’t help but want to conceal your moans.

He throws it off and grabs your jaw hard. “What’d I say about that? Don’t you want them to know how much of a slut you are for me?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Speak up when I talk to you.” he says sternly. His words make you throb and he notices. “Do you like it when I’m mean?” he smirks at you.

“Yeah,” you admit, sheepishly.

“There you go again being all quiet, keep that up and I’ll edge you until you’re begging.” he threatens you with a good time.

“What if I want you to do that anyway.” you say flirtatiously.

He raises an eyebrow. “I can make that happen.”

His thumb finds your clit and the sensation of him rubbing you and his cock ramming in and out of your pussy sends you so close over the edge.

The look on your face is so angelic and hopeless, you’re better than anything he could imagine.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” he kisses you. “You look so pretty while being fucked.”

He snaps his hips into yours and your eyes roll back.

“Just like that.” you whine.

“How bad do you want it?” he asks you.

“So bad,” you say out of desperation. At this point you don’t care. Heeseung had taken over your mind, ego, and pride. “You feel so fucking good inside of me.”

He smiles. “How could such a sweet voice say such dirty words.” Then all of the sudden he pulls out. You nearly cry out from the unexpected emptiness.

“What the fuck,” you swear at him.

“You’re the one who asked for this.” he says, still slowly rubbing your clit.

You whimper. “I take it back. I need you.”

“No take backs sweetheart.” he tsks.

He kisses your chest and pinches at your nipples. You writhe under him, needing him in you.

After what feels like an eternity but is probably a minute or so, he slams back into you and right after being satisfied, he pulls out again.

“Heeseung please,” you whine. “Please I’ve been good haven’t I?”

“You have, but I like doing this to you.” he kisses you. “Who knew my innocent girl would be begging for my cock like this.”

You pull at his waist. “I need it.” you tell him in the sweetest voice you could get out.

He sighs. “I’ll never win.” he kisses you again before pushing into you.

“Fuck yes,” you moan in relief. “Faster please.”

Thank god he listens to you.

You cling onto his back, pushing your nails into his skin a bit. It only takes thirty seconds to get you on the edge and Heeseung can tell by the way your moans are getting high pitched.

“Cum on this cock sweetheart,” he says lowly. “Be a good girl for me.”

And just like that, your whimpering his name like it’s the only word you know; like it’s your mantra.

“That’s it baby,” he whispers. “Just like that.”

Your pussy pulsing around him sends him into euphoria and he groans into your neck.

You don’t even realize the tears on your cheeks until he pointed it out. He looks at you in shock and holds your face in his hands. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Fuck I’m so sorry pumpkin I-”

“No no it just felt really good,” you giggle. “I didn’t even know I started crying.”

“Oh thank god,” he sighs in relief and kisses your forehead. “You’re the best pussy I’ve ever had you know.”

You laugh. “Stop it, you sound like a man whore.”

“Just being honest.” he smiles and pulls you into his arms.

“Shit,” you curse to yourself.

“What is it?”

“Jake and Sunghoon definitely heard us.” you say, wide eyed.

“Yeah probably,” he says “they probably got off on it too.”

Your face twists in disgust and you shove him in the shoulder.

He cackles. “I mean wouldn’t you?”

You think to yourself. “Yeah I probably would.”

[wheelsup]

coffee is the sixth love language

Spencer Reid x gn!Reader

[gif via]

Summary: Spencer discovers his feelings for Reader through a series of coffee-based gestures. Inspired by this post. Part two is up!

category: fluff, sfw

warnings: none, except poor writing

word count: 2.8k

     As a child Spencer was not too talented at making friends, finding that he had too little in common with kids his own age and even less in common with those he went to school with - it certainly didn’t help that “kids his own age” and “kids in his school” were two separate, distinct categories. But as Spencer got older, he began to care less about actively trying to make friends. If it happened, it happened, but Spencer no longer felt pressured to seek out new companions. Through working at the BAU, Spencer found a family of his own, and though a few faces had come and gone through the team, he had a solid foundation with a few of its members. 

     All this is to say, when you began at the BAU, Spencer was the hardest one to get to know. He didn’t jump to meet you and get to know you like Penelope, or make comments to reassure you when you doubted that you belonged on the team at the start like Derek did. Spencer definitely did not dislike you, he never gave indication to suggest negative feelings and was always pleasant to you at work. It’s just that he also didn’t give indications that he did like you, not in the same way you were sure he did the others. He tended to keep to himself most of the time, only interacting with you when it pertained to work or in casual conversation in group contexts. You figured this was pretty common behavior for Spencer, understanding that he probably selects his close friends carefully. If you wanted to be friends with him, you would have to earn it. And by god, you were determined to earn it. 

     The opportunity came one morning when Spencer had entered the bullpen and made an immediate beeline to his desk to take care of the borderline offensive mountain of paperwork awaiting his attention. The team’s last case found them in Las Vegas, and Spencer had elected to stay an extra two nights to spend some time with his mother. Unfortunately, that meant he lost the privilege to fly home on the BAU jet and instead had to catch a red-eye flight that got him in at 3:30 in the morning. The awkward flight time cut right into his sleep window, and Spencer was even more visibly exhausted than normal. He didn’t have time to get coffee that morning because the only few hours of sleep he got began around 5:30am, and he found himself waking up too late for work. 

     Spencer was really beginning to face the repercussions of taking two days off from work: three days worth of paperwork to tackle in one. Sleep deprivation and lack of caffeine was really dampening the relaxing qualities Spencer found in doing paperwork, but he had too much to handle to stop. You watched him suffer in silence for the first forty-five minutes of the work day before you realized that this would be your perfect moment to extend an olive branch, to break the ice. Silently, you got up from your desk and slipped away into the break room, returning with one hot cup of coffee in hand. 

     When you wordlessly set the cup down on Spencer’s desk he spent a good few moments staring at it before inquiring about it. “What’s this?” He looked up at you with those soft doe eyes and you thought, this must be the first time I’ve really looked into his eyes. They were the warmest eyes you’d ever seen. 

     “Coffee.” Yeah, he probably gathered that. “For you, I mean. I thought you might like some.” The smile Spencer gave you after that, though it was small and shy, was definitely the most sincere one you’d received from him yet. This one wasn’t one of his ‘we made eye contact so now I feel like I’m supposed to smile to be nice’ smiles or ‘there’s an awkward pause in conversation’ smiles. It was a real one, and you immediately knew you wanted to keep doing things just to see that smile again. 

     “Oh. Thank you.” 

     Not wanting to feel like you were lingering, though you definitely were just to continue staring at him, you returned his smile so as to say No problem! and went back to your desk.

     Spencer wasn’t expecting anyone to pick up on his current exhaustion considering he hid his issues so well, much less to act upon it. The fact that it was you, who he had only just met three weeks ago, was surprising. When he brought the cup to his lips and sipped he was absolutely floored. It was perfectly to his liking. Spencer had to set the cup back down and stare at it for a little while so he could pick apart how that could be. In the short time you had been there, you had seen him make his coffee maybe once before. And yet you remembered how he took it. 

     Because of his god-given talents, Spencer was used to remembering every detail about other people; their favorite colors, books, and coffee orders. It was an automatic function of his brain. But he knew it was far easier for him to recount those things than everyone else, and never expected that level of attention to be reciprocated back to him. As he stared at that cup, Spencer couldn’t help but feel that your remembering of how he liked his coffee had to have been a willful act on your part. 

     And the idea that someone, for whatever reason, deliberately chose to remember such an intimate detail about him moved Spencer more than he cared to admit. 

______

     Though the BAU had a general, shared idea of what constituted a case gone well - unsub caught, deaths prevented - you had come to notice that the individual members adopted different ideas of what it meant for each of them. Like for Hotch and JJ, it would include some aspect of saving families, whether it was physically rescuing loved ones from harm or emotionally shielding them from hurt. Any instance where they could provide some peace of mind to a grieving brother, sister, or especially parent, was what they considered to be the ultimate service of their job. To Derek and Penelope it was knowing that all of their long work days worked slowly towards making the world an ultimately better place. One case by one, the cruelty of the world could be chipped away and replaced with goodness. 

     And to Spencer, it was entirely about the saving of a life rather than just the prevention of death. The victims that the team always found and rescued in what could have been their final moments were what Spencer considered to be deaths that were prevented. But the unsubs, who through harsh circumstances of life had turned to darkness, who deserved the chance to seek help and rehabilitate, and who were given a chance to do that once the team could safely bring them in, that is what Spencer considered to be a life saved. That was his personal definition of a good case.

     Unfortunately for Spencer, this had not been a good case by his own standard. Each time an unsub had forced a suicide-by-cop, something in Spencer’s heart strained more and more. Especially when he could so easily find redeemable qualities within the unsub, ones that others may not have been able to see. And especially when Spencer could find pieces of himself within them, the parts that he was afraid of but which also enabled him to empathize. 

     The team had been looking for a teenage boy, who after years of enduring unwarranted ridicule from his classmates, through which he received no help from those in positions of authority, had turned against them. Spencer could never dream to hurt others, but he could place himself exactly in the shoes of that young boy. The isolation and desperation a teenager feels after unending mockery for things out of his own control. When he spoke to the school administration, he discovered that they had been telling this tormented boy the same thing that Spencer’s own guidance counselors would tell him.“It gets better one day.” And although yes, for Spencer, things did get far better, he always hated that sentiment. The grand promise of a happy future never did anything to change the fact that Spencer as a bullied preteen had to live in that present, and that present was not easy on the best of days. When those days had been so rough, Spencer was never capable of dreaming of the future. And now this boy no longer had the option to dream, he would never find out what Spencer had. That even though the sentiment was just other people’s way of deflecting from his problems, if the boy could manage some hope, things could one day look differently.

     Those thoughts weighed heavy on Spencer’s mind as the team was in the jet on their way back home from the case. He tried to sit the furthest he could from everyone else to give himself some space - though it was a futile task on such a small jet - opting to vacate his normal spot on the couch for a seat in the back. Nobody questioned him when he spent the duration of the flight staring out of the window, deep in thought. But you took notice of the way his brows stayed slightly furrowed, creating deep creases. How the skin under his eyes took on a more purple hue, no doubt from lack of sleep the night before. His usually soft, pink lips were chapped and red, which you suspected was from his habit of nervous chewing. Around the two-hour mark that Spencer had not moved from the window, you were too deeply concerned to sit idly by.

     Something you observed about Spencer is that he prefers to discuss what’s on his mind on his own terms. Coercing and nagging things out of him, even when presented as wanting to provide him a space to talk out his frustrations, only upsets him more. So you wanted to show him that you were thinking of him in a different way, one without words. Just so he knows you would be there when he felt like speaking, but it was also okay if that moment never came. Anything that could bring him temporary comfort in that moment.

     In the small kitchenette on the other side of the jet from Spencer, you prepared him a drink that you hoped he would love as much as you do. A dark roast coffee with a spoonful of honey and cream. It’s the exact drink you make for yourself when you’re down and in need of a treat; if you had to describe it, you would say it was like a liquid hug. And for a guy who didn’t love being touched - you still had yet to shake his hand - you thought giving him a hug he could drink might be the best you could do. 

      He didn’t notice at first when you placed the cup gently on the table in front of him, so you cleared your throat softly so as not to startle him. Spencer didn’t say a word, only offering you the slightest turn of his head as he raised his eyes to meet yours. Though it was such a small reaction, it was the largest breakaway you could get him to make from his inner monologue. But even if it was just for a moment, you were happy to be able to get him to take a reprieve from his undoubtedly dark thoughts. He looked briefly down at the cup placed in front of him, then back at you again. 

     “It’s not how you usually take it,” you warned him, “but it’s the kind I make when I need something to make me smile.” I hope it makes you smile. 

     As fast as you came, you went back to your seat, sparing him from having to converse. It wasn’t lost on Spencer that you had just shared with him an intimate detail about yourself within this cup. He now knew the ways in which you grieved and coped, and he knew that you could tell when he was in the same state. Spencer’s thoughts were now fixed onto something new: the sweet smell of the coffee and how the warmth it created in his stomach reminded him of you. 

_____

     Spencer dropped the file back onto the table, sighing softly in resignation and pushing his chair back to stand. If he was going to get through any more files tonight, he would need a decent cup of coffee first. It would have been his fourth one that day - or maybe sixth? Spencer stopped counting for his own sake - but the case was feeling almost impossible to crack, and Spencer was determined not to rest until he found at least one more piece of the puzzle to go off of for the next day. Based on his heavy sighs, and your general knowledge of Spencer’s addiction, you could predict what his next move was going to be, and winced at the harsh truth you would have to share with the tired doctor.

      “I’m sorry, I just took the last of the coffee.” This week found the BAU working out of a small precinct in a remote rural town in Kansas, and to say that the station was lackluster would be an understatement. Over the team’s years of travelling the country, this had to be the first police station ever to run out of coffee. And though it was only ten in the evening, all local restaurants and cafes were closed. Spencer was out of luck.

     You had the most guilty look on your face as Spencer tried to hide the disappointment in his. “That’s okay.” Spencer offered a soft smile to sell the story and shoved his nose back into the files. Though he loved coffee, and certainly could use it at the present, he found himself feeling strangely glad to forgo the luxury with the knowledge that you could enjoy it. 

     Not a minute later, Spencer saw a dark blue mug with a Kansas Jayhawks! emblem being set down next to the slowly-diminishing stack of papers he had left to get through. It was more than half-full. “Here, you can have the rest.” You leaned over him, your thigh half-perched against the edge of the desk he was given to work on. 

     “No, that’s okay. You should finish it. Really, I don’t need it that bad,” Spencer was prepared to protest this for a while, sliding the mug back and forth until eventually one of you relented. You weren’t going to have any of that. 

     “Stop. I want you to have it.” Actually, I want you to have anything you could ever want. But until I can give you that, I’ll start with this cup of coffee. A little cup of coffee was the bare minimum of things you’d be willing to give up to make Spencer smile. “Besides, if you’re worried about germs,” you took the handle and rotated the mug halfway around, so that the football team’s emblem was now facing away from Spencer, “you can drink from the other side.” 

     This time, when Spencer looked up at you as he had done so many times before, you felt something completely different. Electing not to address that shift you both felt, you left him with a smile and disappeared into the conference room to look over evidence boards again. 

     Spencer stared at the cup for a long time. He used a single finger to tentatively hook around the handle and drag the cup towards him. The tint that his cheeks somehow always adopted near you turned darker at his thoughts, as he turned the cup back to the way it had been before, with the team’s emblem facing him again. If he were to look very closely, which Spencer always did, there was just a faint outline of your lipstick stain left behind, greeting him, tempting him. 

     Spencer brought the cup to his face, placing his lips deliberately against the ghost of where your soft ones had been. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine that his lips were pressed against them as opposed to their trace on the ceramic. As he pulled his face away, it was clear that he had grown too many feelings for you to pretend that they weren’t there. And if your actions meant as much to you as they did to him, he was sure you had to feel the same way. The only thing Spencer had to think about was what he was going to do about those feelings. How was he going to let you know how he felt? Should he ask you out on a date before he spills his heart out? If you said yes, where would he even take you?

     Maybe he could ask you to go get a cup of coffee.

part two

[collecting-stories]

Loose Lips - Rafe Cameron

Request: hey gorg! i’ve been waiting to request for so long and now they’re open! it’s kind of a basic idea but being kie’s sister and hooking up with rafe on the dl? and john b comes over to see sarah and sees y/n walking out of his room? thank you!!

A/N: This honestly came so easily to me and I’ve been having the hardest time writing so...fingers crossed that’s a good sign. Also, was listening to Lips by The Maine when I wrote this. 

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

The sound of the voice calling your name wasn’t unfamiliar to you but it was unfamiliar in this space. That voice, it was your best friend’s deep, raspy like he’d just taken a mouth of saltwater after he wiped out, voice. The tone was confused, naturally, because while he was out of place here to you, you were out of place here to him. You turned away from the bedroom door that you were quietly pulling shut, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.  

“John B? What are you doing here?” You’re words came out barely above a whisper, praying that the person on the other side of the door, the person you’d just left, wouldn’t hear the commotion.  

“I swung by to get Sarah...” he trailed off, probably, easily, putting together that you were coming out of not-Sarah's room and you definitely weren’t hanging with Wheezie whenever you disappeared for an afternoon or after a party. “What are you doing here?”

If he eliminated Rose and Ward too, that left one person in the Cameron household. You could see the gears turning in his head, already imagine him trying to blindly text your sister some kind of SOS as he reached his hand into his back pocket. Maybe you could play it off, would you rather he think you were buying coke or that you were here for the actual reason you were here.

“I uh...” you trailed off, looking back at the crisp white door, the doorknob warm in your hand, knuckles turning white as you gripped it. Maybe you could slip back inside and pretend nothing ever happened. “I-”

Before you got a chance to answer him, the doorknob was pulled out of your grasp and you stumbled back as the door opened, the last option John B wanted to believe but the one he knew was it stepping into the hallway.  

“You’re still...” Rafe looked at you curiously for a moment, you were still in the hallway outside his room. But when he turned he John B at the top of the stairs looking a lot like someone who’d just been told that Santa Claus wasn’t real. “You forgot your phone.”

If there was any chance for making John B believe that your trip to the Cameron household was innocent or not-innocent-but-not-what-he-thought, that opportunity flew out the window. Rafe was standing there, holding your phone out to you, in nothing but a pair of boxers sitting so low on his hips it was obvious he’d just pulled them on to come out of his room. His hair was still messed up and there was clear evidence, marks on his otherwise flawlessly sunkissed skin, that whatever happened in there was exactly what John B didn’t want it to be.

“Are you sleeping with Rafe?” He practically shouted as you awkwardly pocketed your phone. Couldn’t you have just stayed in bed ten extra minutes like Rafe had asked, did you have to always be so punctual.

“It’s not what it looks like!” You insisted, not daring to look over at your co-conspirator. You could just imagine him leaning up against the door frame or the wall, arms crossed over his chest, amused grin as you tried to stutter out an explanation. Wasn’t that exactly how you had ended up in his bed the first time?

“Pretty fucking sure it looks like you and Rafe just had sex.” John B replied, sounding both disgusted by the idea and betrayed.  

“Oh, then it is exactly what it looks like.” Rafe piped up. You turned to look at him, trying your absolute hardest to burn him with your glare. He remained unaffected, which didn’t surprise you at all. He usually was unaffected by most things.  

“Does...does Kie know about this?”  

“Please John B, you cannot tell my sister about this.” Sarah didn’t even know and most times you were in the house at the same time that she was. There was no way any of them would take this well. Hell, your sister had thrown a fit the first time John B brought Sarah around. This would be ten times worse.  

“So what’re you saying,” Rafe asked, feigning hurt, “you don’t want anyone to know about us? I’m really hurt Carrera...I thought we meant something to each other.”

“Shut up Rafe!” You snapped, smacking his arm.  

John B ran his hands through his hair, pulling at the ends. He had half a mind to bolt back down the stairs and tell Kiara exactly what he’d seen. You leaving Rafe’s room, Rafe confirming that you were sleeping together. “How long have you guys been together?” He asked you, trying to remind himself that you were his friend, practically his sister, and he owed it to you to let you explain. At least enough that he could get a whole picture of what was going on.  

“Together...would you call it that? Together?” Rafe cut in before you could answer, repeating the word a third time as if he was testing it out. Like he’d never heard it before.  

In all honesty, and maybe somehow it was better this way, you weren’t together. You weren’t even definitely friends. You were just hooking up, strictly sex. And yeah, maybe sometimes after sex you hung out and watched TV or smoked weed or ordered a pizza and then had more sex, but it wasn’t together. It wasn’t a relationship.  

“We aren’t.” You said it like you were promising John B it was nothing serious. “We aren’t together.”

“John B!” Sarah’s voice rang out from the bottom of the staircase, “are we going or what?”  

You mouthed a silent please to him. Please don’t tell Sarah, don’t tell anyone. If your friends found out you would be ostracized, tossed from the pogues forever. You would never be able to show your face on the Cut again.  

“Yeah, yeah...” He called back, waving his hand to her to go outside, he’d be right there. He was still staring at you, as if he could somehow figure out why you had decided to hook up with Rafe of all people. Maybe if he looked at you long enough it would all make sense. “We need to talk later.”  

“We will, just please...I’ll, we’ll talk, I’ll explain.” You promised, trying to buy yourself some time.  

He turned from the top of the staircase, heading down to meet Sarah in the foyer and you heard her ask what the hell was taking him so long when she thought he’d just gone up to use the bathroom. He fumbled through an excuse, casting one more look up the stairs but he couldn’t see either you or Rafe from his position near the door.  

When you heard the door slam shut behind them you pressed your hands to your face, “fuck...fuck.”  

“Looks like someone’s in trouble.” Rafe teased, laughing when you smacked his arm for a second time.  

“Shut the fuck up Rafe!” You grumbled, turning to look at him, “fuck...he’s totally gonna tell my sister, he has no fucking filter. And they’re all shit at keeping secrets.”  

“Well,” Rafe shrugged, standing straight and pointing back to his bedroom with his thumb, “might as well come back in, if they’re gonna know anyway.”

“No, I need to leave, I need to go talk to them or something or try to...explain what’s...” your sentence stuttered, trailing off as you lost your thought. Rafe had crossed the hallway to you, placing his hands on your hips and leaning down enough that he could kiss along your neck and shoulder, over faint marks that he’d left earlier.

“You need to what?” He asked, between trailing kisses.  

“Rafe...”

“You need to what?” He repeated, pulling away just enough to look at you. Right now John B was no doubt cooking up exactly what he was going to say despite promising to let you explain because he had absolutely not self-control and he was always more loyal to Kiara. You needed to leave, to somehow beat him to his own house so you could make them understand that this meant absolutely nothing to you, that they were your friends and they were ten times more important than Rafe Cameron. “You need to...come back to my room?”

“Like ten minutes, tops.” You reasoned, letting him taking your hands and walk you into his room, pushing the door closed behind you with your foot. It wouldn’t be ten minutes, both of you knew that, but you’d been slowly lying to yourself about this whole thing for months. What was ten more minutes?

[mikeyinnit]

lovebug

Pairing: Wilbur x GN!Reader

Summary: Wilbur was done with love after he lost Sally, but when Fundy introduces him to one of Niki’s friends, things start to change.

Word Count: 2k words

Notes: Songfic!! I said they would be rare and it’s the second fic I post lmao. Inspired by Lovebug by the Jonas Brothers, totally willing to do a part 2 for this one because I have other ideas with other lyrics and stuff

Tagging: N/A

After Sally, Wilbur wasn’t really looking for anyone else to love, in fact, he had given up on love entirely. He had to focus on his son and the nation he was building from the ground up.  

Then you came into the picture.

You were a friend of Niki’s, that’s how he met you. Fundy was visiting the bakery and when Wilbur came to get him, he saw you helping the young fox hybrid make cookies. It was such a sweet sight that he took a moment to just enjoy seeing his son have a great time. When he did enter, Fundy introduced the two.

“This is Y/N! They’re one of Niki’s friends. Y/N, this is my dad. He’s single.”

Of course his son would throw him under the bus like that. But you just laughed, and god did you have a beautiful laugh, and held out your hand. A gesture that Wilbur returned with one of his charming grins.

“Fundy’s talked about you all day, I feel like I know you already…” you had trailed off, obviously Fundy only referred to him as my dad, prompting him to give his name.  

“Wilbur Soot.”

“Wilbur. It’s great to meet you.”

You gave him your phone number, clearly you were as taken with Fundy as the boy was to you, for him or his son to use anytime. Then you said your goodbyes for the night as you sent them on their way with the cookies you and Fundy baked along with some extra baked goods.

Called you for the first time yesterday

Wilbur hadn’t used your number for a good couple of days. He had been busy with L’Manberg and honestly had barely had time to see his son, let alone the enchanting stranger.  

Today was a day that he could actually spend quality time with Fundy, and obviously all of that time at the bakery while he was working just made the young boy want to bake cookies with his dad. Unfortunately, Fundy was very specific with what cookies he wanted to make. The ones he baked with you.

“These don’t taste like the ones Y/N made.” Was said numerous times throughout the night no matter how Wilbur changed the recipe so eventually, he just gave up and called you to figure it out.  

“Hello?”

Your voice rang out through the telephone and it instantly felt like all of the stress of this baking night was leaving his body.

“Y/N, it’s Wilbur. We met at Niki’s the other day?”

“Wilbur! Of course. How are you? How’s Fundy?”

Another grin was brought to his face at you almost immediately asking about Fundy, though he didn’t have the chance to respond as the aforementioned hybrid returned from getting more ingredients for the cookies and practically begged his father to put you on speaker so he could talk to you as well.

“Y/N!!”

It was almost like he could hear the smile on your face as you spoke to Fundy. “Fundy! What are you up to?”

“We’re trying to bake cookies but dad can’t make them like you.”

Wilbur heard that laugh again, that beautiful laugh that he first heard at the bakery.  

“That’s because your dad probably doesn’t know the secret ingredient that we used to bake those cookies. How about you give the phone back to him so I can let him know and then I’m sure you two will bake the best cookies ever.”

Then the phone was back in his hand and he spoke, “Secret ingredient?”

You grinned as you answered, “I just told him to tell the dough nice things in his life. Some people say speaking love into the dough helps, I don’t know if it’s true or not but he had fun with it.”

It sounded ridiculous, but Wilbur decided to try it.

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll let you know how it goes.”  

This time, Fundy thought the cookies were perfect.  

I finally found the missing part of me

You became a big part of his routine after that night. He would see you at the bakery every time he came to get his son, he called you even when he was at work, you quickly became an important part of his life. Fundy loved you, days together often involved him telling Wilbur all about whatever the two of you got up to.  

Wilbur wasn’t a stranger to love, he loved Sally, he loved his country, he loved his son. But it felt very different with you. He couldn’t even say it was love yet, you just felt like you fit with him and Fundy. You were kind, and obviously cared about his son, you were funny, the texts and calls he exchanged with you never failed to put a smile on his face. And you cared about his son a lot, which was certainly not a negative. For the two of them, it felt like you were the perfect fit to the puzzle they didn’t realize was missing a piece.

I felt so close but you were far away

Getting used to having you in his routine meant it really sucked when you traveled to a village far away. Fundy missed you and honestly, Wilbur did too. You promised the young boy that you wouldn’t be gone for long, and told him that he was welcome to call you at anytime. Which Fundy took full advantage of. Every night before the young fox hybrid went to bed, he called you on Wilbur’s phone and the two of them heard about your day and they shared details of their own. On certain nights, you even joined Wilbur in singing a lullaby for him.  

People say that absence makes the heart grow fonder and that absolutely seemed true with your trip. Both of the boys missed you and wondered when you would be back, but luckily, you came back within a month. And you came back with plenty of gifts for Fundy, which made the boy ridiculously happy. You even got a gift for Wilbur, which was certainly a pleasant surprise since really, you being back was enough of a gift for him.  

That night, he invited you over for dinner. He said it was to celebrate your return, which is true, but he also just wanted to spend time with you now that you were back. You agreed, and the three of you even tried baking dessert, which resulted in a small flour fight initiated by you.  

Wilbur usually liked everything in order and in his control, something like throwing flour around and making a complete mess of his kitchen is something that Tommy would enjoy, but somehow it felt okay with you and his son.  

I never thought that I’d catch this lovebug again

After that night, Wilbur came to realize that he did like you, if not love you. You were a nice balance to his control and an escape from the stress of his job as president.  

At first, it felt like a betrayal to Sally. He decided he was going to focus on his son and his nation, not love. He decided that long before you came into the picture and he was a man of his word. Even if that word was only said to himself.

He knew he couldn’t just outright ignore you. Not only would that be unfair to you, it wouldn’t be fair to Fundy.  So he had to deal with it another way, throwing himself further into his work. It meant less time with his son but it was very productive for L’Manberg. Plus it meant Fundy got to see you and Niki more so Wilbur is certain that the young fox would understand and perhaps enjoy this more than spending time with him.  

There was a knock at his door but Wilbur didn’t even look up as he called out, “Come on in.” Obviously it wasn’t Tommy since the boy never knocked but it could have been Tubbo or Jack Manifold or even someone from outside of L’Manberg.  

“You would think that in a time of peace, the president would have more free time.”

He knew that voice. He could never forget the face that went along with it. Your smile and eyes never left his mind even with him trying his hardest to shut out the rest of the world.  

“Y/N, I wasn’t expecting to see you. What brings you by?”

“I haven’t seen you in a while, Fundy told me you’ve been sleeping here lately so I thought I would check on you.”  

And there was that kindness again. The kindness that made him fall in love with you in the first place.  

“I’m okay, Y/N. Just busy.”  

“Too busy to stop by the bakery to see your friends? Or to even come home and see your son at night?”

There was an edge to your voice and Wilbur wasn’t sure how he felt about it, obviously he thought that Fundy would prefer spending time with you and Niki over himself but it seemed like you disagreed.

You strongly disagreed.  

“I’ve just been busy. Running a country is a lot of work, Fundy will understand. He gets to see you and Niki more anyways, he’s happier that way.” He shifted his eyes back to the papers in front of him, letters he had been drafting for the past two hours and couldn’t get anywhere with.  

“Fundy is a child, Wilbur. Niki and I are happy to see him at the bakery but we aren’t replacements for his dad. His dad who suddenly became “too busy” almost overnight. What happened?”  

It truly was sweet the way you cared about his son that much. Enough to come to his office when you could be sleeping. This could have been a good moment for him to say what was on his mind, that he thinks he was falling in love with you and didn’t want to betray his dead wife. But he lied.

“Tommy has been getting into trouble with Dream recently, I want to make sure we don’t fight in another war so soon. Or ever again.” It was a solid lie, Tommy had a reputation for being a troublemaker and he could use that to his advantage. You seemed like you were about to speak, probably about Fundy, so he spoke first, “I promise that I will talk to Fundy and see him more as soon as I get this figured out. Thank you, Y/N, it’s really nice Thank you, Y/N, it’s really nice to know that someone else cares about Fundy this much, he needs that.”

“It’s not just him that I care about, Wilbur. I wish you would see Fundy more sooner but I was also worried about you, I know you care about him so something had to be going on for you to miss seeing him this often.”

Well that certainly didn’t help with him trying to ignore these feelings.

“Then I thank you again. I really appreciate it. Goodnight, Y/N. Get some sleep.”

“Goodnight, Wilbur.”

I kissed them for the first time yesterday

Wilbur kept the promise he made to you. Considering the reason he gave you for being busy was a lie, it wasn’t hard to get back to seeing his son and by extension, you.  

If you asked him, he would say he’s handling his feelings for you rather well now. He hasn’t done anything about it but he isn’t shutting out the world so, progress.

It was another dinner night with you and Fundy, you had brought desert with you this time so they didn’t have another flour fight but it was still lovely. After he sent Fundy to bed, you stuck around.  

The two of you had been sitting on the couch together for a whole, just talking about anything, and maybe it was just because it was late and you looked so beautiful but something came over Wilbur and he asked, “Would you mind if I tried something?”

You nodded, curious about what he was going to try, but you didn’t stay curious for long as Wilbur gently cupped your face with one hand and leaned in to kiss you.

A kiss that you returned.  

I never thought that I’d get hit by this lovebug again

[bxckybarness]

What I Missed - Loki Laufeyson

summary: while in custody at the TVA, loki realizes what he misses from the future, only to be surprised by what he gets in the present

word count: 2100+

warnings: a little angsty, a little emotional, mention of loki’s death, episode 1 spoilers

Today was certainly not Loki’s day.

Over the course of a few hours (or more, or less, this is the TVA, afterall) he had been in the custody of the Avengers, had happened upon the Tesseract and escaped from New York. It seemed too good to be true, and it was. Just when he thought he had truly outsmarted the Earthly heroes again, he was imprisoned and taken again.

Now here he was, under the supervision of the Time Variance Authority and one, Mobius, a bizarre administrator in charge of tracking down the most dangerous of variants. It all seemed like madness to Loki. He was used to silly games and grandiose tricks but this story of timelines and space lizards seemed beyond even his own trickery. It seemed downright absurd. And annoying.

He had been subject to what he would call an interrogation. Mobius, however, called it a simple conversation. A slideshow of his life, his “greatest hits” as Mobius had called it and a relentless fire of questions, the memory of which continued to burn in his memory:

Should you return, what are you going to do?

King of Midgard? Then what, happily ever after?

King of Space?

Why does someone with so much capability just want to rule?

Do you enjoy hurting people?

That one had burned most of all. Did he enjoy hurting people? Hardly. And it was upsetting to him that anyone would think that. But he also understood what he appeared to be to every other living creature. He had just relived the moment in which he killed that daft agent and his mother. His mother. He refused to believe he was at fault for that. Frigga was the only person who truly saw him and whom Loki cared for deeply. But it seemed so clear in the moving picture, he had led them right to her.

It was in that moment, with tears and rage in his eyes, he knew he needed to get out of the disastrous time circus. He no longer cared to be a monkey in this ring. If he could find the tesseract, he could escape and be free once again.

That plan had gone almost perfectly. The only thing that went wrong - there is no magic in the TVA. No matter how many times he held the tesseract in his hands, wishing it to take him back to Midgard or Asgard, he was met with nothing but the bland walls in this TVA Time Theater. There was no hope in escaping.

Feeling exhausted, Loki slowly moves toward the table in the center of the room. He sits down and admires the machine in front of him. As grim as the stories it held could be, it was still quite fascinating that it could replay the highlights from his life - in a weird way, at least. He reaches out and turns the knob, searching for the moment his mother dies. He finds it and watches in silence for a while, tears beginning to fall down his face.

He turns the knob again.

He sees a future version of himself sitting next to his father and Thor. He watches as his father declares his love for his sons. Sons, plural. Both Thor and him. A small smile graces Loki’s face before Odin disappears, leaving the two men behind. Loki holds back a sob as tears continue to flood from his eyes. His father did love him, did see purpose for him. He wasn’t just the mischievous son. He’s sad that it took this long to understand that, and sad that he never got to experience this himself, even if a future version of him did.

Another turn of the knob.

This scene immediately feels different. He sees a garden, full of life, beautiful flowers blooming in every direction. He sees himself, sitting under a tree smiling next to a young woman. As the scene progresses he realizes this version of him is smiling at you. He lets out a small gasp when he watches the pair share a kiss and wipes the quickly falling tears from his cheeks. He had always loved you, but had never gotten the chance to tell you. The two of you had met through Thor, when he brought both you and Jane to Asgard. He had taken to you quickly, enjoying your similar sarcasm and humor - something that was scarce within his home realm. You, like his mother, had always seen the good in him and had understood his struggle. It was something he would never understand, you being of Midgard. You knew what he had done and had been there to see the destruction, but still saw him not as the God of Mischief or Earth Enemy #1, only Loki. He aches for the fact that he never got to feel the happiness his future self did, especially when it was happiness with you.

Turn the knob.

Loki and Thor stand in a room together. Loki lets out a small laugh in the midst of his tears, wondering how his oaf of a brother managed to lose an eye. Maybe a dumb bet between the two of them, maybe there was a battle amongst the nine realms. He’s quickly pulled from his thoughts as he hears Thor speak.

“Maybe you’re not so bad after all, brother.”

“Maybe not,” the future Loki responds.

“Thank you,” Thor replies, “If you were here, I might even give you a hug.”

“I’m here.”

Loki smiles and nods to himself. From where he’s sitting now, it’s a wonder that he and his brother ever made up. He realizes now that the fighting and the sibling rivalry may have all been in his head. He, again, curses himself for leaving New York and allowing himself to miss these moments that he’s been waiting his whole life for.

Fast-forward.

He and you lay in a room, seemingly on the same ship as the previous scene. You lay snug against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you. You hum softly before speaking up.

“I love you, you know.”

By the look on both of your faces, it’s the first time this has been said out loud. There’s nervous tension in the room, Loki can feel it through this screen. He somehow knows the words his future self is going to say before he hears them.

“I love you too, darling. You bring out the best in me.”

You snuggle closer to him, if that’s even possible, and there’s a comfortable silence for a few seconds. Loki takes a moment to admire this picture. It was something he had wanted since he had first met you on Asgard. You had stuck out like a sore thumb, dressed in your casual Midgardian clothes. He couldn’t have missed you even if he tried, nobody could have. And boy was he glad about that now.

“Promise me something,” he watches himself say.

“Anything,” you whisper. “Anything for you, Loki.”

“Promise me, no matter what, you’ll always help me see the good in myself. I’ve too long suffered at the hands of those who desperately wish for me to see the bad.”

You let out a laugh and the Loki stuck in time laughs with you, “Oh, Loki. I wish you could see yourself as I see you. But I promise.”

“Thank you, my love.”

“You, Loki, may be a God, but you will always just be the man I fell in love with. The good, kind, and honorable man I call mine.”

Turn, again.

Loki sees himself kneeling and before he can question why, he watches as his future self moves to attack someone in front of him. When Loki realizes it's Thanos, he’s quickly on his feet, moving closer to the screen. The tears are gone now, and a silent rage burns behind his eyes. There was nothing from Loki but hate for the purple titan. He watches in horror as Thanos picks Loki up from the floor, a death grip on his neck. Loki wonders to himself how he would get himself out of this scenario had he been there. He assumes an illusion would do the trick. However, he notices your distraught figure behind the mad titan. He can hear your screams as you kneel next to Thor, who is imprisoned in cuffs. He hears you call out to him and he knows this will not end well. His suspicions are right when he watches his death. A shocked gasp comes from his throat as the tape in front of him runs out, nothing left to show.

Loki quickly sits back down and closes his eyes, trying his hardest to process the vision he saw. To one version of him, these would have been experiences and now memories. To him, though, these were all subtle tastes of a life he lost. He lost a touching moment with his father and a long awaited declaration of love from him. He lost the reconciliation with his brother and the confession that they had been more partners than rivals. Even though to him it had not yet happened, he missed it all, and it upset him deeply.

What hurt Loki the most was the idea that he lost his chance to feel his love reciprocated. Loki had never had much luck with romance. He was often seen as the sly younger brother and was usually too occupied to try and compete with Thor for the maidens at court. When he met you, he thought he had a chance. You were the first woman who saw him as his own person and not just as Thor’s brother. The relationship between the two of you had blossomed quickly and he found himself always sneaking away from his princely duties to see you. He had shown you his favorite places in Asgard and had opened up to you in ways he had never done before. He loved you and wanted you to be his. His one regret was not initiating a relationship before you had left for Midgard. And he thought his chances had been ruined by his actions in New York. Oh, how wrong he was.

Before Loki can dwell on his future more, Mobius comes bursting into the room.

“Ah Loki, glad you made your way back here. I have something for you,” he says.

“If this is another one of your tricks, I’m not currently in the mood,” Loki responds coolly.

“Just trust me on this one.”

Mobius shouts over his shoulder for someone to “bring her in.” Loki eyes the guards who walk in suspiciously until he notices who they bring with them. He can hardly believe his eyes. The gods in all the realms must be smiling down on him today, after all, because there you stand. He takes in your hideous red and white space suit, emblazoned with the Avengers logo, and he’s at least thankful he missed whatever battle this suit was required for.

He quickly stands and rushes over to you, a smile quickly gracing his face. You meet his gaze with a smile that is just as big and tears begin to flow from your eyes.

“Loki,’ you start. “Is that really you?”

He nods and speaks, although his words are barely audible, “It’s me, my love.”

“God, I thought I lost you forever. That’s why I went back in time to find you.”

Loki nods, now, unable to believe what he’s hearing, “You went back to find me?”

“Yes, but look what good that did me,” you say with a smirk. Loki’s heart pulls and he feels he could fall over right there. Norns, he missed you and your witty humor.

“Well,” he says, reciprocating your sly attitude, “You found me did you not? I might not be the same Loki as you knew, but I am still Loki.”

“The good, kind, and honorable Loki that I call mine.”

Loki smiles and you move forward to give him a hug. You’re cautious, though, because you aren’t exactly sure what part of the timeline this Loki came from. Maybe you had already been dating, maybe not. That was something to figure out another time though.

“Alright then,” Mobius says from behind you, “Let’s get you two caught up on what you missed with each other.”

Today was certainly not Loki’s day. And he had cursed all that was good that he had ended up at the TVA, taken from the life he knew. But now? He didn’t mind. He knew the relationships that were broken with his brother and father had been mended, he knew that one version of him had sacrificed himself for good and he had you, not only in memory but in the flesh. And sure, you had lots to rediscover within your relationship, but you would do that together.

[wannabeschyulersister]

champagne problems

You’d only ever seen Henry cry a handful of times. None of them were because of you.

This time the tears that fell from his eyes were your fault.

Just moments ago, he was the happiest you’d ever seen him. Until you absolutely shattered his heart.

“I don’t-I don’t understand.” Henry muttered out wiping the tears that had quickly fallen from him.

“Henry, I’m so sorry. I just- I can’t.”

Henry couldn’t meet your eyes. The confusion was clear on his face. “I thought we were happy together. What changed?”

“You have made me happy. There’s not a day that passed that you didn’t make me smile. But- I just can’t let all of my happiness depend on you.” You tried to explain as best you could to him what you had been feeling over the last few months.

Henry closed the small box that contained an engagement ring that he’d been so excited to give you. He designed it himself.

As soon as you saw him get down on one knee, you felt your heart drop and not for a good reason. You clearly didn’t expect for it to happen. The smile on his face broke your heart even more.

“Is it because I’m gone a lot?” He was trying to piece things together.

“No, it’s not because of you at all.” You wanted to reach over and grab his hand and console him. A part of you held back from doing so. “I don’t feel like I’m the person that you met three years ago. This past year has been so insane. I’ve felt like I’ve been drowning and just trying to get through the day.”

“Why haven’t you said anything, (Y/n)? I could’ve tried to do anything in my power to help you.”

You looked down at your hands rested on your lap, “I just felt like I was a bother. You’ve accomplished so many great things this year and have been to so many amazing places that I didn’t want you to drop everything to come back to me.”

“What are you saying? You aren’t a bother! That thought has never crossed my mind.” Henry wanted to know what he could do to change things. He felt like this conversation was taking a turn that he definitely didn��t like.

“I can’t help how I feel. I think that I need some time…..alone.”

And there it was. Henry felt like his heart just got ripped out of his chest.

“Is there someone else?”

You had to admit that it stung to hear him ask that but, if the tables were turned, you would wonder that as well.

“Of course not. There’s no one else. There’s never been.”

“Then what is happening? I love you and I know that you love me too.” He was trying to connect the dots and that made your heart break even more.

“I do love you, Henry. I just need some time to figure out what I feel like is missing. I know that it doesn’t make sense to you. Trust me, I know. It wouldn’t be fair for me to accept your proposal right now when I don’t feel like myself.”

Henry was suddenly thankful that he didn’t decide to propose to you at your favorite spot in the park or in public at all. He felt like his world was breaking apart. An hour ago, he could picture your future with him so easily. He could see kids, the two of you growing old together, and pure bliss. Now, he wasn’t sure of what the future would hold at all.

“I still want to be there for you. (Y/n), I love you. I’m not going to let you go through it alone.” Henry reached over and grabbed your hand.

It made your heart ache again. You’d miss him so much. “I appreciate that, Henry. I love you, too.”

“And I’ll wait for you. No matter how long it takes.”

You felt the tears that you’d been holding back finally fall. “I don’t think that’s a wise thing to do.”

That surprised Henry, “What?”

“I don’t want you to pause your life to wait for me. I wish that I could be selfish and ask for you to do that, but that wouldn’t be fair. If you meet someone that could love you with all of their heart like I do, I wouldn’t want you to pass up your happiness for me. I want you to be loved as much as you deserve to.”

It was the hardest thing you’d ever had to say to Henry. You knew deep down it would absolutely kill you to see him with someone else. But he deserved to be happy. That’s what mattered most.

Henry looked down at the ring in the box. He wished that that evening had gone a different way. He’d look forward to asking you that special question for weeks.

He shut the box quietly and looked at you. He could see the pain in your eyes. He knew that you needed the time to yourself. He just hoped that you would make your way back to him.

you won’t remember all my champagne problems

[plus-size-reader]

Not a Good Idea

Jack Kline x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2084 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Jack asks out the reader thinking he's joking with her and she goes to hide but he follows easily?

For @lilacprincessofrecovery, I hope you like it darling

—————————————————————————————————

Jack had always had a crush on you, now that he understood what that meant.

He felt connected to you, and even though he didn’t know a ton of other people, he knew enough. He knew that no one was ever going to make him feel like you did, which was why he decided to ask you out on a date in the first place.

That was what you did when you liked someone, he’d seen Dean do it a million times before.

It seemed to work out for him just fine, because he was always in the company of women. You were a woman, and he didn’t see a reason he couldn’t do the same thing with you.

Granted, he hadn’t exactly worked out all the details yet but he figured you would help him.

You always did.

All he had to do was ask you and the rest would fall into place.

At least, in theory that was how it was supposed to work. After all, as soon as he had suggested that the two of you go out for a romantic evening as Dean so often did, you weren’t nearly as receptive to the idea as he imagined you would be.

In fact, you almost seemed upset by what he was suggesting.

He’d never seen you so upset before.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea” you hummed, barely looking up from your laptop as you spoke, your eyes still locked on the screen. Had Jack not been so fine tuned to your every move, he may have missed the slight tensing in your jaw.

He had definitely upset you, but what he didn’t understand was how.

In all those times Dean had asked a girl to have dinner with him, or get some coffee in the morning, she had never reacted like you were now.

In fact, you hardly ever acted like that at all.

You were always very attentive to Jack when he talked to you, eager to help him navigate the world around him or help him understand something he couldn’t quite wrap his head around.

It wasn’t like you to be so cold, but you couldn’t help it.

What he was asking, it was too much.

“What do you mean, not a good idea? Did I say something wrong?” he asked, concerned that he had unknowingly done something to offend you.

It all seemed pretty straight forward but it wouldn’t have surprised Jack if he’d somehow misread the situation or said something he shouldn’t have. He was pretty new to this whole thing after all.

It wasn’t like someone had gone out of their way to teach him how to talk to a girl he liked, he was just making it up as he went.

“No, it’s just not a good idea” you repeated, unsure of what to say to get him to drop this whole thing.

Nothing was going to make him realize how humiliating this was for you.

It just wasn’t fair.

You couldn’t imagine Jack would do something like that to be cruel to you, or push buttons that he shouldn’t but you couldn’t help but be upset by it.

It was just too much.

Jack hardly even realized what it was he was asking, and you just had a bad feeling about it. You knew that he was trying to be sweet, trying to do what he thought he should, but it wasn’t like he actually understood any of this.

You were basically the only girl he knew, like, at all.

Of course he had come to the conclusion that he wanted to have something with you because he’d seen this before. He constantly saw Dean trying to woo beautiful women and all that, but he wasn’t Dean, and you certainly weren’t like those women in the bar.

He didn’t know enough about this to even know what he wanted.

He didn’t know enough to know why you weren’t what he wanted, and the last thing you wanted was to wait around, caring about him, until he realized that.

You would only get your heart broken.

There was silence between the two of you for a moment as Jack desperately tried to understand what could have possibly gone so wrong in these few moments since he approached and it was only overwhelming you more.

You felt like you were ruining everything, like by saying no you were going to upset Jack and he wouldn’t want to be your friend anymore but he didn;t know what you did.

He didn’t understand that you were only trying to help him in the long run.

“I, I have to go” you decided, gathering the few files Sam had given you to look over as you went. It would be better to just get out of this situation as quickly as you could, especially since Jack clearly wasn’t going anywhere.

Maybe later you could have Dean explain just why this was such a bad idea. It would be much simpler than having to go through telling him yourself.

It was bad enough you were having this conversation in the first place.

You hoped that you would just be able to go, though, maybe you should have known better than to think that. As soon as you rounded the corner to your room, you came face to face with him again.

It was too much.

“What are you doing?” you gasped, cursing yourself for forgetting about what he was. It was lost on you too often that Jack wasn’t human and he could do things like teleport around and scare the shit out of you.

You thought you had been pretty clear about the fact that you wanted to be alone, but like Jack was known to do, he didn’t get the message.

Instead, he found himself more worried about upsetting you than anything else, including your own wants.

“I’m sorry, I thought I was supposed to come with you” he shrugged, once again struck with the fact he had done something wrong. This was really hard for him, and he was just trying to get it right.

It seemed like everything he was doing lately was wrong, no matter how hard he tried to get it right.

...and now he’d upset you, his only friend in the world.

“No, I told-'' you started, but stopped as soon as you saw the look on his face change from concern to complete and utter confusion. Just when he thought he understood, he went and did something bad.

It was getting frustrating.

“It’s okay, I just don’t think you understand what you’re asking” you allowed, deciding that if he wasn't going to just take your no for an answer, you were going to have to shed some light on the subject.

Just like Jack wasn’t a regular guy in any other sense, he wasn’t a regular guy in this either. He wasn’t being a creep or yanking your chain just to get a rise out of you.

If he had asked for a date, that was because he wanted one.

It wasn’t his fault he didn’t quite get why it wouldn’t ever work.

“Would you tell me? Please?” Jack hummed, confused as to why this was upsetting you so much. It wasn’t underhanded or accusatory like you had come to expect from other men.

It was real.

Jack was really just confused and that made this conversation that much harder.

“You don’t want to go out with me Jack, I don’t look anything like those girls Dean goes out with, do I?” you reasoned, hoping somehow he would get the point.

What you were saying made all the sense in the world to you, but not to Jack. He didn’t see what the big deal was, or why that mattered but clearly, you did.

There was this look in your eyes that he’d never seen before.

“This? Do the women Dean dates have this?” you asked, your voice little more than a whisper now as you grabbed at the fat around your middle with your fingers, as if proving your point.

To you, that skin was your biggest shame and more than enough reason for him not to care about you at all but Jack, being the metaphysical being he was, didn’t see a single flaw in you.

To him, every person was exactly how they needed to be and you were no exception to that.

You were perfect.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never looked at them too closely” he admitted, sitting down beside you on your bed, where you had decided to stay. It was far easier than standing there, having him look at you like that.

This whole thing was ridiculous.

It would have been much easier if he just accepted your no in the first place, but maybe that was the hardest part. Deep down, you didn’t want him to accept your no, or to know just how much you hated your own body.

There was nothing more embarrassing, but again, you had to remember who it was you were talking to.

Jack really didn’t have anything to gain by making you feel like a terrible person, and he didn't have a problem with how you looked. The only trouble would be making sure you understood that.

He didn’t see anything wrong with you, not at all.

“This is why you’re upset?” he clarified, Jack knew well enough to know that just because he didn’t understand why it was such a big deal, it was obviously affecting you quite a bit.

That meant it had to be important to him too.

“Yes Jack, you deserve a girl like the one’s Dean cares so much about. You can’t go out with me just because I’m the only girl you know” you tried, hoping that this would prove it to him.

There were plenty of other girls out there, girls far prettier than you, but even hearing that, Jack wasn’t swayed in the least.

He understood that you were different than they were, he was just lost on how they were somehow better.

They didn’t help him keep track of things that sometimes slipped his mind or read to him when he was too preoccupied to remember that he had to sleep every once and a while.

They didn’t pay attention to him or care about him, not like you did.

Besides, you were his best friend, his only friend. If there was anyone alive he was going to be in love with, or take on a date, it was you. There was no one in the world as important to him as you.

“But you’re my favorite girl, doesn’t that mean something too?” he tried, still genuinely confused if he had a point or not. He thought that he did but you seemed so sure that you were right.

He didn’t know what to believe.

“How can I be your favorite when I’m the only one you know?” you asked, a small laugh leaving your throat before you could stop it, thinking about how silly this whole thing was.

All Jack wanted to do was have dinner with you, or something like that, and you had turned it into something else completely.

He was trying to prove a point he didn’t even understand just because he cared about you, and that was sweet. Besides, it was nice to hear that you were his favorite girl, even if the roster was short.

You did like Jack, of course you did, you just didn’t want him to make a decision without knowing everything.

Right now, he didn’t know everything.

“Because even if I knew every girl on the planet, you would still be my favorite” he shrugged, leaving you just as speechless as you had been at the very start of this.

You wanted to talk to him, wanted to say anything, but it wouldn’t make any difference. There was nothing you could say that was going to make a difference, you wanted to go out with him.

More than anything.

“I’ll go on a date with you, if you’re sure it's what you want” you decided, looking into his blue eyes and finding it impossible to not do exactly that. You liked him and nothing was going to change that.

If he wanted to go on a date, a real date like normal people did, there was no sense in arguing with him.

“I would really like that”

[221bshrlocked]

i. Initiation

Stirring Sensations Masterlist

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2325

Warning: lots of really inapropro thots all because of that.fucking.chain.

A/N: I’ve had a really bad week and it only got worse last night and I almost had to go to the ER but crisis averted everyone and I’m about to fuck up this presentation but I needed to write this because wow we’re all so horny for this man and that chain he wore during the D23 Expo 2019. Also, this tiktok didn’t help. There might be a second, more NSFW part. Depends on if yall like this :)

You couldn't stop staring at it. Lord knows you tried your hardest to be aware of the conversation going on but it was impossible.  It wasn't even anything special, just a shiny little chain, and yet you were absolutely hypnotized by the way it hung around his neck. Why you found it absolutely mesmerizing with that shirt you would never know but there was something about the way he carried himself around, especially today, that had you wishing you were bold enough to say something. But no, he was a friend. And he was kind enough to invite you to an after-party with his colleagues whom you still tried your hardest to act naturally around. 

But fucking hell this was hard. It kept on swinging around with every little movement he took, whether he was motioning dramatically with his hand as he explained something about one of the scenes or was simply leaning over and laughing over something Jon said. It was just...there. Taunting you. Begging for your attention. Any kind of attention. 

You kept on staring at it as you drank your wine, occasionally nodding along to pretend you weren’t imagining biting down on the chain and tasting his sweat on it as he fucked you into the mattress. It was getting difficult with every passing moment though, especially when he had to nudge you a few times to ask your opinion on something and furrowed his eyebrows when you apologized and told him to repeat his question. 

You thought you were being subtle enough but then Pedro leaned over and whispered something in your ear and you all but lost control, the sharp intake of breath making him lean away and ask if he’d done something wrong.

“N-no sorry I- god, I think I drank too much. I just need...some fresh air. Be back in a minute.” Pedro stared at you as he nodded, and you watched as his hand slipped under his shirt to scratch at his clavicle, the action forcing your eyes to the chain yet again. Before you could stop yourself, your tongue was peaking out and licking your lower lip, wishing it could lick across the shiny necklace if only for a second. Once you realized what you’d just done, you raised your eyes and met his, finding the usually umber brown eyes dilated and unforgiving in their gaze.

And then he mirrored your actions and licked his lips and you knew you needed to get away from him before you made a fool out of yourself. 

“Excuse me,” you smiled at everyone and walked to the balcony of the restaurant, finding a quiet and private spot in the corner overlooking the awfully busy street. Taking a deep breath, you shut your eyes and leaned against the wall, finally allowing your mind to give into the pathetically filthy thoughts involving Pedro’s fucking chain of all things. You thought of what it would feel like to pull on it as he kissed the air out of your lungs. Wished you could twirl it around your fingers as he licked and nipped down your neck before slipping his hands beneath your pants. Fuck, what you would give to just bite down on it, maybe lick it and his skin as he used you to get his cock off. Would he let you suck on his neck, that glorious fucking neck that was somehow always glistening and smooth and so fucking inciting? Would he moan when you tell him how sexy you found it, especially with that floral shirt? Goddamn that shirt. It was so loud and yet he pulled it off. And with those light brown pants that were positively tight and almost left nothing to the imagination...

But none of that compared to how captivating he looked with that chain. It was very rare for Pedro to look unattractive in whatever clothes his stylist picked out for him. Actually, that wasn’t true. Pedro never looked bad in anything, even if it was a worn down sweatshirt or jeans. He just always looked nice and you weren’t sure if it was because you’ve had these feelings for him for so long or if it was because he was an honest-to-god sex symbol. 

You rubbed at the base of your throat, thinking of worshiping him and kissing down his neck before he forced you down on your knees and fucked your face. And to hear that voice, that beautiful, deep, hoarse voice as he moaned and swore and growled at you as you pleasured him. What a sight he would be. 

When you took longer than he anticipated, Pedro excused himself and walked past the balcony doors, surveying the large open area and almost walking back in when he didn’t find you anywhere. But then he noticed you in the corner near the edge of the railing, tilting his head to the side when he saw how hard you were breathing. He approached you carefully, his eyes taking in the way you were rubbing at your neck and harshly you were biting down on your lower lip. 

So busy imagining the touch of his hand on your heated skin, you didn’t notice Pedro’s presence until he broke you from your haze with a concerned question.

“Are you okay?”

You jumped and grabbed at your chests when you heard Pedro, rolling your eyes when he started laughing and apologized before rubbing your arms to calm you down. 

“Jesus Christ you scared the fuck out of me. God, how many times did I tell you not to do that?” You gulped before turning to the railing, trying to calm your heart rate so he didn’t suspect anything.

“Not my fault you’re so jumpy.” You shook your head at his teasing comment, taking in a deep breath to try and forget what you were just thinking about before he interrupted you. “You were gone for a while...is everything okay? Did something happen and you don’t want to tell me?”

“W-what? No no nothing...nothing happened I promise. I just needed some air. It was getting a little intense back there. Sorry I’m just not used to being around so many, you know-” You trailed off and hoped Pedro wasn’t offended by your words because the last thing you wanted him to think was that he was bringing you to anxiety-inducing gatherings. 

Your smile faltered when you finally glanced at him, finding it near impossible to not shift your attention to the unbuttoned collar and the godforsaken inanimate object hanging around his neck. Pedro was taking in your changing expressions, trying his hardest to figure out what was going through your mind and hoping it mirrored what was going through his.

But he didn’t have to wonder for too long because all of a sudden, you were reaching up and pushing his shirt apart, and he felt his heart skip a beat when your fingers lightly trailed across the chain he was wearing. He didn’t dare to say anything, afraid you’d break out of whatever trance you were in. He hoped to whatever higher power existing out there that he wasn’t misreading the situation because he wasn’t sure how much more he needed to control himself. You continued to stare at him as you traced the outline of the cold metal, slipping your hand beneath it to touch his skin. Pedro shivered when one of your nails scratched at the hollow juncture just below his Adam’s apple and he all but lost it when feather-light touches skimmed over the cartilage moving down his throat. Your fingers descended down his throat again, and he ceased to breathe when you twirled his chain around your index finger before tilting your head to the side in interest. When you licked your lower lip and began to lean forward, Pedro couldn’t hold back anymore. 

“Fuck…” The growled expletive snapped you out of your haze and you snatched your hands away, about to start apologizing to him and begging him to pretend that you weren’t just pretty much assaulting the man in public.

Pedro regretted the way he responded to you when he saw sheer panic and fear etched on your beautiful features. He didn’t think of what he was doing as he pushed you further into the wall and cornered you between his arms. Pedro wanted to make sure you weren’t about to run away from him because now that he had you here, with a pretty good idea of what you were thinking of, he wasn’t about to let you go. 

You watched as his jaw muscles clenched tightly, unable to look away from his dark eyes as he stared down at you.

“I thought I was imagining things...the entire day. You’ve been...you kept on looking at me like...like you were- like I was-” Pedro gulped to try and contain his thoughts, not wanting to scare you by what he’s been thinking of when he caught you looking at him like you wanted to devour him. “Every time I looked at you, you would either look away or pretend you were talking to someone else. But fuck baby I didn’t think- didn’t think you’d ever...fuck. I can’t stop thinking about you sweetheart, and if I’d known that it would take me wearing this fucking chain...goddamn, I would have worn it a long time ago if it meant you’d look at me like you were imagining...that I- that we- Please...I- I...shit, are we on the same page here baby or am I completely misreading this entire situation?” Pedro stuttered through his admission and you weren’t sure if you found it cute or sexy that he was trying to hold back from telling you what he’s been thinking about. 

“Pedro-”

He wasn’t sure who leaned in first, and he couldn’t care less if he was being honest, because you were in his arms, devouring his lips and fisting your hands in his shirt as he snuck his tongue into your mouth and kissed you with every ounce of his being. You sighed into him as you felt his hand slip into your hair at the nape of your neck and pull on it. You were thankful that he had his other arm wrapped around you because you felt faint with every little moan he whispered into your mouth. Nothing could have prepared you for the intensity of his kiss. You would never tell him but watching his on-screen kisses did something to you and you always thought he would be generous with whoever he was with but this, this was something else. It was a cliché but this must have been what it felt like to watch a shooting star fly through the sky. It had to be. It was magical, intimate, and absolutely breathtaking. 

When Pedro pulled away and looked down at you, he couldn’t help but push himself flush against your heaving chest, once again swearing when he felt your shivering hands slip beneath his shirt and pull on the chain. He followed your lead and molded his lips with yours, this time more carefully and with less desperation. You smiled against him, and let out a deep breath when you felt him smile into the kiss. Pulling away from him, you rested your head on his chest and let go of his shirt, trailing your hands across his back to try and somehow pull him closer to you.

“I- I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” His voice was soft, exuding calmness and joy. But you could hear his heartbeat and you knew he was just as nervous as you.

“Me too.” 

Pedro grabbed your shoulders and pushed you away so he could take a look at you.

“This isn’t a- I’m not...I’m all in baby. I’m all in, if- if you want to give us a shot. Please.” Silence enveloped the air around you and you looked into Pedro’s eyes, finding nothing but love and hope and happiness in them. You’d always wanted to make him happy, he deserved the world. And now that you knew you could, it was indescribable. 

“I’m yours Pedro.” 

You smiled when you noticed the familiar dimples take over his expression, sighing in relief when he pulled you against him once more and tightened his hold on you.

“Let’s get out of here.” He grabbed your hand and moved towards the restaurant. 

“What? No wait Pedro this is your day. I’m not- we could figure this out after tonight. I’m not about to ruin your night. It can wait.” Your eyes widened in surprise when he stepped towards you and grabbed your cheeks so you could look at him.

“Baby...I waited to hear you say those words for too damn long. I need to have you all to myself tonight. Please. I’m- I’m begging here. They won’t mind I promise. I just- I want you in my arms. I want to touch you and kiss every inch of you and hold you until you get tired of me. I want to whisper sweet things in your ears and show you how much I lo- how much I care about you. I want you. And I can’t wait anymore. Please hermosa.” Pedro noticed the small gasp emanating from your lips at the last nickname, and he raised an eyebrow when you turned away from him to look at something else.

“Oh, good to know.” He laughed when you narrowed your eyes at him in annoyance.

“Come home with me hermosa. Please.” He knew he had your undivided attention when you looked up at him, barely holding back from smiling because you could never refuse anything when he used that tone with you. 

“Ok.”

Pedro leaned in one last time and kissed your forehead before taking your hand and walking back inside. Well this was going to be interesting. 

[miraculouscontent]

I know that you said that it was an one shot, but I really love the idea of marinette stay in Paris with Luka and kagami and avoid all the NY drama! If you can, can you share more of it? Even if just a few little ideas it would be great! (I love your ideas!)

(the one-shot this anon is referring to)

Aw, thank you so much!

And sure, after some thought, I did really want to write a little more with them!

—————

While throwing away their now juice-less cups, Marinette made the realization of how different things seemed with Luka and Kagami. She had already experienced hanging out with both of them separately, but she'd never imagined having both of them with her at once. It wasn't as if she'd always dismissed or despised the idea, but the only time they'd interacted as a group had been with Adrien around, which had probably soured the whole thing and thus involuntarily caused her to never think about it.

With her friends, everything was typically high-energy. Juleka and Mylene weren't very involved in creating such an atmosphere, but Marinette herself, Rose, Alya, and kept things energized. It wasn't a bad thing in general, but it made Marinette wonder if maybe surrounding herself with people who only encouraged her excitable habits wasn't a good thing.

Meanwhile, Luka and Kagami were completely different, both from her and her friends. Neither were particularly loud - though both could be when they wanted to - and they weren't really the kind to tease or mess with her either. Luka wasn't quiet in the way Juleka was, just seeming to absorb the world around him, whereas Kagami only spoke when she felt that there was something of value to say. Marinette had worried briefly that she might've been too different from the both of them, or that she'd overwhelm them due to speaking up the most, but instead, there was a sense of balance. Luka smiled or chuckled reassuringly whenever she caught herself rambling, whereas Kagami would cut in with her own views that were often direct but nevertheless good in their intentions. Perhaps her personality rubbed off on them in a way she couldn't fully understand?

Still, it was nice.

As the three were deciding what to do next, Marinette's phone suddenly went off. Marinette looked at her purse and pulled out her phone, half-expecting a text from one of her classmates about her missing the bus, but it was actually a notification about where Andre the ice cream man was.

Kagami glanced over after noticing the look on Marinette's face. "You want to get ice cream?"

Marinette frowned, Kagami's voice reminding her of the day the two of them had gone for ice cream with Adrien. She still remembered talking to Andre, hoping beyond hope that maybe the man wouldn't make them pick between the three different flavors. His words still stung a little, not because of Adrien, but because of what the words meant.

"Too many flavors mixed together may throw off the delicate balance."

It implied that one of them would always be the third wheel if they were together, no matter what, and it was a hollow feeling that she'd only recently started to accept.

"Marinette?"

Feeling a comforting hand on her shoulder, she looked over and noted Luka offering her a concerned expression. It grounded her, serving as a reminders that things were different now and that Adrien wasn't there which, in a strange way, brought her an immense sense of comfort.

"I'm fine," she assured. Turning her attention back to her phone, she deleted the notification and then made sure that she wouldn't be getting another one. "Ice cream sounds good, if you want it too, but... I think I've got a better idea than Andre's."

Luka and Kagami exchanged curious glances.

—————

"Here's to Neapolitan ice cream!" Marinette declared dramatically, raising her spoon up with flair before shoving it and the ice cream on it right into her mouth.

Luka snorted in amusement while Kagami gave an acknowledging nod, probably remembering the exact phrase from Andre that Marinette had recalled earlier.

They'd picked up the carton of ice cream on the way to Marinette's place, with Marinette insisting on paying in order to spoil them, and while they seemed confused on the specifics of her insistence, they gave in soon enough. Marinette could understand why she'd be the expected person to be comforted, but giving to others made her happy on its own and she felt they deserved it. After all, Luka had tried his hardest to catch up to the bus and Kagami was still dealing with Adrien wanting to leave for New York despite her being in Paris.

They'd ultimately decided on splitting the entire carton between the three of them, with each of them getting a majority of the one of the flavors and then the rest of that flavor going to the other two. Marinette had gone with chocolate, Kagami had gone with vanilla, and Luka had gone with strawberry. It might've seemed like a weird choice to go with since they'd just had orange juice, but it hadn't been much and it wasn't exactly a "treat."

Marinette may have considered suggesting ice skating instead if her first thought of it wasn't her slipping and bringing Luka and Kagami down to the ice with her. Ice cream was the safer alternative to "cold fun."

"Luka," she called thoughtfully, taking another bite before asking, "you're not feeling sore or anything, are you?"

He met her gaze, smiling at the concern but waving his hand dismissively. "I'm alright, Marinette. I'm used to biking around for hours because of my job, so it wasn't a big deal."

Kagami halted, spoon halfway in her mouth while her brows rose noticeably. She finished the scoop, then turned to look at Luka. "You have a job?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I deliver pizza." He grinned, clearly amused by her reaction. "Are you surprised?"

Kagami's expression didn't shift, but Marinette had known her long enough to see that she was embarrassed. "Oh, no. It's... I don't have one."

"There's nothing wrong with that." Luka shrugged. "I just have the time to do it."

"Mm." Kagami looked back at her ice cream, poking at the surface with her spoon. "I suppose it would be too difficult with my fencing lessons."

Marinette giggled sheepishly, happy to join in on the conversation. "I probably wouldn't be able to either. There's all my fashion work with my website, and then there's the unexpected babysitting, the bakery, and I'm also the class representative." She hurriedly added an, "I know it doesn't sound like much, but I'm bad at planning," when she felt that it seemed like such little things. She was Ladybug and the new guardian too, of course, but she couldn't be blurting that out, so she could only hope that it didn't seem like she was whining over nothing.

She averted her gaze, scooping up a self-conscious bite of her ice cream and shoving it into her mouth. She was partway through savoring it when she realized that neither Luka nor Kagami had responded to her. Daring a look back, she saw them staring at her with varying gazes.

Kagami seemed stunned, commenting, "That is... well, much, actually," referring to what Marinette had just tried to brush off.

Was it? Marinette had never really thought about it. In fact, she distinctly remembered back in the day where people might've thought she was just scatterbrained and didn't really do anything. Back when she was hesitant to be class representative and claimed that she was busy, Alya had asked her with a hint of snark what she was busy with, like she expected her to have a free schedule.

Even beyond her role of Ladybug at the time, she still had random babysitting to do and still frequently worked on her fashion projects. Thinking back, it stung just a little.

As Marinette glanced at Luka, she at first felt that the amount of sympathy he was directing at her was excessive, but then she remembered how she had cried in front of him to the point where he'd dropped his bike and guitar in order to comfort her. She blushed, both in shame and from the memory of him holding her so closely.

"Ah—well—it's okay!" she said hurriedly, "Anyway, forget about me! This day is about... um, this ice cream, and ice cream doesn't have problems that you should worry about!"

She nearly gave herself brainfreeze from how quickly she scooped up and ate the next bite, but figured it'd be worth it if they dropped the subject.

It wasn't worth it.

"You should be more careful," Kagami commented critically, an edge to her voice that Marinette knew wasn't meant to be anger at her. "You're my friend, so don't overwork yourself."

Marinette grinned nervously, still trying to lighten the mood. "A-are you saying it'd be alright to overwork myself if I wasn't your friend?"

Kagami's gaze didn't waver, and Marinette slowly tried to sink into her seat.

Luka set his spoon down on the bowl, then chimed in, "I don't know anything about fashion, Marinette, but if you ever need any help with anything—"

Kagami clicked her own spoon against her bowl to interrupt him, as if she felt personally slighted that he'd gotten to say it first. "We're here for you."

Luka nodded to confirm.

"Oh." Marinette blushed deeper, touched by the gesture from both of them. She thought about trying to reassure them again, but their gazes were firm and showed no room for argument, so she settled for a soft, "Thanks."

They resumed eating their ice cream from there, the topic officially concluded. Though the atmosphere felt noticeably different, Marinette was surprised to realize that it wasn't exactly in a bad way. She feared that she'd ruined the mood, but instead felt like she was supported, with Kagami and Luka looking satisfied with their choice in offering help to her.

It was like she was Ladybug, and they were the partners standing at her side, each with their own form of support. It made her smile, allowing her to happily eat away at her ice cream without thinking about anything stressful.

The idea of going to New York was suddenly very unappetizing in comparison to having ice cream with Luka and Kagami.

—————

All things considered, Ladybug wasn't concerned about telling Chat Noir that her plans had changed and she wasn't going anywhere after all. She imagined that Chat would be overjoyed and wouldn't even ask questions about it, just happy to have her back. She found his affection eyeroll-worthy, but he was still her teammate, so she just steeled herself up for whatever ramble he was about to give her.

However, as she waited near the top of the Eiffel Tower, sitting on the guardrail and looking around for Chat Noir, she realized that she couldn't even see him. Checking the time on her yoyo, she confirmed that it was indeed time for their usual patrol, but Chat Noir was completely absent. Even though it was nighttime, which made the black cat's suit blend in with the sky, he still had the blond hair and light skin that should've made him noticeable.

Ladybug got up and paced around the area a few times, constantly peeking down at the city as she wondered if maybe she just wasn't looking in the right spot. When she still saw nothing, she concluded that Chat Noir must just be running late and she'd simply have to wait a little longer. Things happened, after all, she knew that better than anyone, so she began idling on her yoyo, searching for something to keep her occupied while she waited.

They were a team. While their identities had to remain a secret, Chat Noir had always hated it and prioritized openness in their relationship, so he would've told her if something had come up. He was also active in going on patrols, always seeming eager to join her for their runs across the rooftops, and given that he didn't even know that she'd still be in Paris, patrols were even more crucial.

He never showed up.