#because sometimes you try and you get shut down

[ssahotchnerr]

omg Katie i was rewatching s7 (as one does) and ohhhh my gosh I forgot how delicious and gorgeous beard!Hotch is😔😔 he’s just soo!!

I can’t stop thinking about maybe the beard making a comeback while on vacation or something, him being all domestic with that beard — and it’s just such a change from his usual suit and tie lawyer important job vibe😔 sorry just thought to share and wanted to know what you think of him <3333

while on vacation

i just couldn't not write a fic about this 🤭 bearded aaron my beloved cw; fem!reader, established relationship, jack calls reader mom, domestic fluff with a hint of spice❤️‍��, light suggestion <3 wc; 1.2k

"Don't scrunch up your face so much," you laughed gently, applying sunscreen thoroughly across Jack's face. Whether it was his forehead, the bridge of his nose, or his cheeks, he either attempted to move out of the way or scowled further in protest.

"But I don't like it," Jack complained. "It's cold and smells funny."

"I know you don't bud, but the last thing you want is to get sunburnt," you told him, your eyes sympathetic. "The sun here is a lot more harsh compared to how it is at home. I'd hate for you to be miserable, and not have as much fun because of it."

"I guess. It stings my eyes sometimes too."

"Just try your hardest not to touch your face, and you should be okay," you reassured him, snapping the sunscreen shut and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "Plus, I don't think you want your father's lecture on the importance of SPF."

Speaking of - "Aaron?" you called out. "Are you almost ready?"

"Yeah..." You heard him sigh from the bathroom, the faint sound of him searching through his toiletry bag audible. "I forgot to pack my razor."

You grabbed Jack's hat and placed it atop his head, angling it more downwards to playfully cover his eyes. You got to your feet, meeting Aaron in the bathroom. "You? Forgot to pack something? What happened to the spreadsheet?"

"I don't make spreadsheets for everything," Aaron laughed at your teasing, an inquisitive expression soon taking form on his face. "Do you think the hotel carries razors?"

"I don't see why they wouldn't."

"Or we'll just have to stop at a store later," he shook his head, giving up his search and zipping up his bag.

"Or we could just... not," you suggested, pushing yourself off the doorframe and running your hands under water quickly. Once clean of any lingering sunscreen remnants, you gripped onto Aaron's polo, your hands soon roaming his torso.

An amused grin formed on his face, "Oh?"

"We're on vacation. That means getting out of routine, taking it easy, not shaving." You shrugged, continuing your flirtatious touch by toying with the collar of his shirt. "So what if a light beard makes an appearance. It wouldn't be the end of the world."

"And that's the only reason, right?" Aaron inquired as a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his eyes gleaming with a playful understanding. "That we're on vacation?"

You weren't slick, and he knew it. However, your request did surprise him - you've only seen him with a beard once when he returned home from Pakistan, short lived as Jack despised it. But you hadn't mentioned it since.

You widened your eyes, feigning innocence, "I can't imagine there being another reason."

He lowered his voice, leaning in close. "Just say it turns you on sweetheart, it's alright."

Surprised at his sudden forwardness you immediately blushed, but he also wasn't wrong. However, before you had the chance to respond -

"Mom, Dad, you coming?" Jack asked, waiting patiently at the door with his beach towel in hand.

"Yeah, we're coming." Aaron clicked off the light, his hand finding your lower back. As he guided you out of the bathroom, it wandered further down, causing you to playfully push it away with a giggle before any young eyes could see. "Did Mom put sunscreen on you?"

He got a groan in response.

Over the course of the next few days, Aaron obliged, heeding your wishes and not shaving. It was mere stubble for a day or two, which was still a sight to see. But towards the end of the week, the beard was coming in wonderfully.

With his dark hair, slightly tousled from the laid-backness of the week's pace, the beard also complemented the sharpness of his features. It brought out the color of his eyes, enhancing their deep, intense color. His jawline, which could make you go weak in the knees any day, was more defined, a perfect contrast to the soft yet rugged texture of his beard.

Add in his sunglasses, the sweaty t-shirt clinging to his body at times due to the heat, and his developing tan, you were absolutely swooning. It was nearly impossible to tear your gaze away from him.

Even the smallest of things were driving you wild. Aaron simply placed breakfast in front of Jack one morning; face adorned by his beard, conversing with his son naturally, the domesticity had you fluttering in all ways. You found yourself wishing you had the same request on your honeymoon.

In addition, the slow vacation mornings also allowed you the time to admire Aaron before he awoke, peaceful and content in sleep. For the first time in a while too, he looked well rested.

Jack had been worn out and sleeping in also, due to the sun exposure and the long-yet-fun days catching up to him. It thankfully granted you and Aaron some much appreciated time to spend alone together.

"Good morning," you mumbled softly when Aaron's eyes found yours, reaching up slightly to press a kiss to his lips, his jaw, neck, anywhere you could reach. You continued to litter him with kisses, before full-on straddling him.

Aaron chuckled, his hands landing on your hips. His voice was still rough with sleep, peering up at you with his sleep-heavy eyelids. "I'd say it is."

You laughed softly against his skin, pulling his t-shirt collar down, giving you access to kiss his chest.

"What do I need to do to get a wakeup call like this every day?"

After pressing one more kiss to his collarbone, you sat up, remaining on top of him. "I can't believe it's our last full day," you whined as a dull filled you; back to the city, back to normalcy, back to clean-shaven Aaron.

He hummed in agreement, his finger tracing the tan line from your bikini bottoms, visible above the waistline of your pj shorts. "It did go by fast, didn't it?"

You nodded, your shoulders slumping as your bottom lip protruded in a pout.

"Are you mourning the end of our time off, or the fact that the beard will be leaving," Aaron questioned, an admirable glint in his eyes. Again, he looked thoroughly relaxed laid against his pillow, his hair sticking out in all directions as he gazed at you.

"Both," you sighed, cupping his jaw and letting your thumb graze his stubble. "Don't get me wrong, I adore seeing your clean and attractive face. But I am going to miss this."

"I'll tell you what, I'll keep it a few more days. To allow you to enjoy it thoroughly, in the privacy of our bedroom." He sat up, positioning you on his lap and easily bringing his lips to yours. With Jack so close, the two of you hadn't been very adventurous in fear of being caught. "And maybe it'll make an appearance more often. Since you like it so much." He mumbled lowly amidst the fierce kiss, a light smirk tugging at the ends of his mouth.

You pulled back briefly, a finger pressed to his chest. "Is that a promise?"

"Definitely."

[humanjarvis]

the world when you're with me

synopsis: you seek out sylus for comfort after realizing you were wrong about him.

tags: comfort, fluff, implied avoidant!reader learns to trust sylus, implied avoidant!reader clings to sylus, sylus takes care of reader from afar, sylus has mephisto and the twins follow reader but wbk pairing: sylus x reader, reader is mostly mc word count: 802

a/n: is this the peak of literature? no. did i need to write it after the day i had? yes. did i need to post it today? no, because i’m trying to stagger my posts more, but here we are. anyway 4k caleb pwp coming tomorrow 

For the first few weeks after you’d infiltrated the N109 Zone, you’d avoided Sylus Qin like the plague. 

After being scared out of your wits by the first version of him you'd met—the cold, unavailable criminal mastermind who’d forced you to shoot him within 5 minutes of knowing one other—you were unashamedly wary of working with him again. 

But Sylus’s intel was unrivaled. More and more often, you found yourself visiting the N109 Zone to meet with him, eventually not even bothering to book a place to stay. There was always a guest room at the Onychinus base prepped for your arrival.

As you spent more time with Sylus, he’d noticeably changed his approach to interacting with you. Rather than forcing you to resonate with him, he’d explained to you how his Evol worked, letting you aim his hands at some training dummies to test it out yourself. Instead of unceremoniously shutting you out when he was tired, he’d drag his robe-and-slippers-clad self to sit beside you on the sofa, answering your cautious questions by practically giving away all his secrets. 

His shift in attitude hadn't stopped there. Sylus had clearly been using that endearingly incorrigible crow to keep tabs on you, but for the strangest reasons. 

Whenever you had a bad day at work, some building-wide maintenance emergency would magically appear, forcing your team to cease operations for the rest of the day. He’d text you a couple hours after your early dismissal, saying he was in the city and inviting you on an evening joyride to clear your head.  

The day after you’d lugged a case of water up the stairs to your apartment, having to pause a couple times to catch your breath, you came home to see your fridge mysteriously stocked with groceries. The only traces left behind were the masked twin figures you spotted scurrying away from your window. 

When a new phone showed up at your doorstep one day—you never even told him you’d shattered your screen, you thought—you’d decided that Sylus wasn’t as bad as you’d once assumed. Not anywhere near as bad, in fact. He was thoughtful, generous, and helped you without taking credit or forcing you to ask for it. You’d never had that before.

Which is why, somehow, you find yourself standing in the doorway of his armory, studying him silently as he polishes an antique-looking gun.

When he notices you, Sylus looks up, raising a delicately arched eyebrow. “Something wrong, kitten?” he drawls, subtly checking your body for injuries. 

Mind numb from your absolutely dreadful day, you stay silent while Sylus looks at you expectantly, his hands forgetting their earlier task. 

But for the next minute, you remain hovering in the doorway. You expect him to get annoyed—you almost want him to, so you have an excuse to go back to relying only on yourself—but all you see on Sylus’s face is patience.

When you start shuffling toward him, that patience mixes with a glimmer of anticipation that he visibly tries to suppress. You need him to be calm right now—an anchor, he thinks. If he loses his composure, if he startles you with his excitement at your approach, you might bolt at any moment. 

Sometime during his inner struggle, you reach him. Meekly, you stand before his chair, briefly opening your mouth before closing it. 

“What is it, sweetie?” he asks softly. “Tell me, and we can figure it out together. I’ll personally track down whoever seems to have stolen your words from you.”

At his offer, you break, collapsing into his lap. His large, warm hands immediately encircle your waist, and you bury your face into his neck, inhaling his leather and spice cologne. 

“Aw,” he coos in his baritone voice, rocking you slowly in his embrace. When he lifts your head an inch, you resist, letting out a soft whine. Gently, he guides your head back to his chest, his quickening heartbeat thumping in your ears and grounding you in the the moment. 

After several moments of silence, your deep, shuddering breaths the only interruptions, Sylus murmurs into your ear. “When I noticed you never ask for help, I was worried the world may not be treating as well as it should. You must be very tired, hmm?” he asks, rubbing his chin against your hair. 

Tightening your arms around him, you sit there for a while, his steady breaths seeming to mend a decades-long rift in your heart.

The next time Sylus tries to lift your head, you let him. He pulls your face from his neck so he can look into your eyes, hoping his gaze conveys his sincerity, before pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. 

“You don’t need the world when you’re with me,” he promises. “I’ll treat you better than it ever could.”

[postmoe]

I find it attractive of a beta or alpha get turned into an omega if they get fucked to much. So what about yandere alpha geshu lin x beta/alpha male reader x yandere alpha jiyan. Or yandere Mydei x beta/alpha male Reader x yandere alpha Phainon. Reader getting turned into an omega so they can keep him all to themselves and maybe baby trap him 🤭.

dude i have so many beta fantasies it's not even funny. thank you for this opportunity.

non-con, abo, male reader, beta -> omega reader,

.

It was always the three of you; Phainon, Mydei, (Y/n). You went through training together, fought the hardest battles together, everyone revered you like you were unstoppable.

Well, everyone respected you in a passive/aggressive way because you were covered in the musk of two supreme alphas. Unfortunately for you, in the womb, you never grew to the next stage from being a beta.

Betas were pretty rare now, they started off as the dominant second gender, but as time grew so did the power of evolution. Everyone starts off in the womb as a beta, then months down the line you unlock your social status. Sometimes, you just get stuck as the runt. There have been few cases of people opening their second gender later in life, though only within a very specific fate of events.

It's not all bad. Apparently, Mydei's and Phainon's scent was so extreme that a lot of people couldn't stand near them for a certain amount of time. Alpha's get antsy, compliment or aggressive. Omegas have gone into heat on the spot, rolling over motionless as their hormones take over. Now, they're pretty good at controlling their smell, or so everyone says.

It never bothered you to begin with, your nose not suited to judge others. You couldn't read emotions if it wasn't present on their face, which in this day and age is more of a talent than anything; at least, that's what Phainon says to make you feel better.

For a beta to get this far in life is pretty astonishing. You realise you had a lot of help from your two friends. They've been able to sniff you out when you're in danger, or their scent that lingers on your clothes is enough to stop any intelligent bandit or monster. However, even when you're feeling down about it, even when the world criticizes you for 'using' two alphas to your advantage, they both have been there to keep you reeled in.

"Why do you even bother trying to lie to us," Mydei huffs, crossing his arms over his puffed out chest, "You have a smell, too. It's not like we don't know what you're feeling."

"That's unfair," you sigh, shoulders slumping, "Maybe I just don't want to talk about it, ever think of that?"

Phainon nods, his arms coming to drape over your shoulders from behind, rubbing his cheek against yours, "Everyone is allowed to have their secrets."

You roll your eyes, going back to polishing your sword with the rag while he lounges against you, "It's not even a secret, just the usual shit." You go silent for a moment, feeling their eyes burn holes into for more information. It should have been common knowledge by now that you won't get out of anything from them, so you gently place your sword down groan, "Fine! I walked past one of your fan groups today. An omega was saying how I was only holding back your true potential, that with me on the battlefield then you can't go all out."

Both of them opened their mouths to speak, you held up your hand to zip them shut.

"And before you say anything; yes, I know that I'm strong too. Yes, I know I can fight. Yes, I know they're just 'jealous' that I get to hang around you." You can't make eye contact with either of them, knowing that you might just crack if you do, "... It doesn't always help. I'm okay with that, though. This is the life I chose and I can deal with all the shit thrown my way."

Phainon buried his face in your neck, sniffling into one of your more sensitive parts, the scent glands. You shivered from the contact, he didn't seem to mind as he practically cried, "You're so strong, (Y/n)! But you know, you still have to take care of your mental health, too. I think you should stay away from those people for a while."

Mydei stood from his spot on the grass and walked over, ruffling your hair with his hand before dragging it down your face and to trace your neck, "We haven't been around because of the recent attacks, so our scent is waning from you. Here, we'll ward them off."

You shook your head out of their grip and rolled to the side, away from them, "I don't need you to scare anyone away by smothering me. I think your scent only makes them more mad."

"It's natural biology for an alpha to cover what's theirs in their smell, you can't just tell us to stop," Phainon argues, shrugging like it's the most obvious thing.

With a laugh, you stand and pick up your sword, "Since when am I yours?"

They both silently looked to each other, communicating in a language you would never understand. Mydei tells you, "You've been our beta longer than you've been alone."

"Yep~" Phainon teases, "Should have thought about that before you became our friend."

Yeah, right. One day these two will find their omegas, they'll create a beautiful family and you can be the cool, beta uncle that showers the kids in annoying gifts to rile up their parents. "Sure, whatever," you dismiss, now taking on an offensive stance, "So, we sparring or what?"

...

Storm season is fast approaching in this part of the land. You three had been sent out patrol the far, outer lands on a 'boys' camping trip'. The trek made you sweaty, the days humid and the nights cold, yet you didn't stop until you reached an open cave near the top of the mountain.

Forests surround you, rushing rivers and falls heard in the distance, and the sounds of insects chirping were drowning your ears. You had abandoned your shirt long ago, rolling yourself in insect repellent that did well to make your two companions scrunch up their noses in distaste.

As you set down the heavy bags in the cave, the sun setting in the distance, you noticed some faded, rock drawings on the walls. Walking up to them, you see crude images of stick figure deaths, a chimera with little hearts around it and a spurting dick. Phainon placed his hand on your shoulder, "Mydei drew the penis."

You both look over to see him skulling his sack of water, giving you both the middle finger. You purse your lips, "Even though I've known you for so long, it's always weird to see such a childish side of you."

After setting up camp, you realise how much you may have missed when you weren't able to accompany them on missions. This place is gorgeous, and they only tell tales of greater environments, it left you feeling a sense of awe and a pang of sadness. When they laugh together, bicker, playfully shove at each other, you can see it the way everyone else sees it.

Two, great alphas Mydei and Phainon - plus you. Little, ol' beta you.

It's nothing to get worked up over. Not a big deal, not an issue at all. You notice they've stopped talking and are looking at you with concern. Fuck. Why are you having this crisis now of all times? They can definitely smell you, they know what you're feeling and they're expecting an answer.

You smile at them widely, "Sorry, I just got lost in a daydream." Can they smell when you lie, too? If so, they speak nothing of it.

...

Being able to swim in such beautiful, clean water was a luxury you didn't know you needed. The baths and streams around Okhema were amazing, there's no doubt about it. Hot springs sent from natural sources, lotions and soaps created from the best ingredients, but this... This was something altogether new.

The water was a cold that made your muscles relax, the flavour refreshing and dare you say, curative. The sound was a delightful white noise of rushing water and splashing ripples from either of you or the fish that swim by.

On the shore, Phainon was the last to disrobe, the three of you deciding to skinny dip as a fun, good morning. You greet him with a smile as he resurfaces from bombing into the water, shaking your face of stray droplets, "Are you sure it's alright for us all to be here? I really think one of us should keep watch at the cave."

He lays on his back, closing his eyes while he floats around you, "Don't stress, there are others at points around the outer city. Someone is always watching from one direction or another."

"I see... I guess I'm just wor-" your voice is cut off as your ankle is suddenly grabbed and you're yanked down under the surface. You see the blurry image of Mydei, the red tattooed lines on his skin the main stand out for the fuzzy, underwater alpha.

The two of you duke it out - poorly - until you both resurface and you're gasping for air. He huffs out a breath of his own, hiding any semblance of exhaustion, "You're going to need to fight better than that if you want to get on our level."

As if coming to your rescue, Phainon swims over to him, "Oh, please, as if it's normal for someone to be capable of fighting under water." He then winks to you before shoving the blonde's head down, effectively drowning him out.

The three of you relax around the falls, floating idly in the water side-by-side. You think you could fall asleep, except your nose twitches at an interesting smell. You've smelt it before, very faintly and only when they really push it. What can be excruciatingly stunning to others, you only get a whiff of as a beta; the smell of these alphas.

Mydei and Phainon are a rare sort, extremely strong and capable of power beyond mosts comprehension. A few people are rare like that, some omegas even being too intoxicating for the outside world. It's a pleasant smell, to you, something you not-so-secretly indulge in whenever you get the chance. It also makes you feel slightly more normal.

You wade over and gently rest your head on the upper part of Mydei's stomach, closing your eyes and sighing happily, "I don't get why people can't be around you guys if you're too strong. I like your smell."

Phainon playfully pouts at you choosing Mydei, coming over to join you and rest his head on his chest. He inhales the Kremnoan's scent, smiling serenely, "Omega's and Alpha's never really stop developing their senses until their mid 30's. The older you get, even smells like perfumes can become too much, let alone the emotions of someone with tremendous power."

"Does that mean you guys aren't holding back anymore if I can smell you?"

Mydei moves a wet hand to pet your head, "We don't need to hold back up here."

"Besides," Phainon gazes at you with a fondness in his eyes, "It's nice to share something so personal with someone close, don't you think?"

They can't just relax like this around anyone, and since you all spend most of your time in the city, you hardly get a chance to get a whiff of them. A giddy smile decorates your face, your eyes closing as you relax once more, "Yeah, I agree."

...

On the third day you notice something odd. Your friend's seem to be more agitated, little offsets leading to snarling and biting, every twig snap or rustle has them staring in that direction in case of a particular threat.

You've never seen them like this.

They must be stressed by all the work that's been unloaded onto them. An argument broke out five minutes ago about something you didn't understand, the two deciding to take a walk to cool off and collect more firewood. You decide that this is the perfect time to help them out, picking up a sword and attaching it to your waist before heading out on a patrol. When you get back, they can relax at the duties already being fulfilled.

You don't know the area very well, however, you did accompany them the past couple of nights so you have an idea of where to go. You're not too stressed about getting lost, the trail somewhat visible to someone like you, who has been taught overcome these kinds of obstacles. What you didn't expect was that it gets darker quicker under the canopy of trees.

It appeared you had an hour of daylight left, yet only fifteen minutes later and you noticed a dramatic change. The mountains are certainly an interesting place to be, you're usually stationed closer to the city and nearer the fallen towns.

With the darkness comes fauna that arouse at night, a particular croak gaining your attention. You crouch down with interest, seeing a teal coloured frog with a lighter stomach hop into a puddle. It was smaller than the palm of your hand, yet the sound it made was so loud you would never expect it to come from such a tiny creature.

Your admiration was halted as you hear heavy thumping from deeper in the brush. It's fast, leaves and sticks being moved and thrown out of the way to make room for whatever is coming at you. You quickly draw your sword and take a defensive stance, readying for whatever may be in store.

If it's a boar or something similar, you could climb one of the thicker trees and make your way around by jumping branches. If it's something more like a giant bush cat, then you would have no choice but to fight it.

Turns out, it was neither. Before you had the opportunity to lay eyes on it, there is ablur of movement and your weapon is thrusted from your hand, flying off and landing into the dark distance. You're immediately incapacitated, wrist close to snapping and arm yanked back as you're brought to your knees.

Mydei is snarling aggressively in your ear, holding you down like some convict trying to escape. He spits his words like venom, "What the fuck did you think you were doing? Are you stupid?! Leaving the nest like that wandering off on your own!"

You cry out in pain as he tightens his grip, the sound and pheromones you let off making him back off slightly but not letting go.

Before you can ask what the hell is going on, Phainon appears behind you and walks around so he can kneel at your front. He tenderly cradles your face and looks over you for any other injuries, "Don't hurt him, Mydei. He made a stupid decision but it wasn't his fault."

A breath of relief leaves you when he finally lets go. You slump and cradle your aching arm, flinching when Mydei falls to his knees behind you and resting his face in the crook of your neck. He mumbles into your flesh, "Why did you leave like that? You could have gotten hurt."

With a new found annoyance, you flick Phainon's hands away from you and shrug the other off your back, "What the fuck??? Why are you both acting like I just up and left?"

"Because you did up and leave," Mydei growls, only halting when he and Phainon meet with a hard glare. He tuts and stands, making sure you have nowhere to run if you decided to flee, "We should have just been outright with him from the beginning."

You didn't like the sound of that. Without a word, you look to Phainon for an answer, Mydei is acting too impulsive for your liking right now. Phainon stands before you, both of them now crowding any escape with how close they are, "In truth, we brought you up here because we knew our ruts were coming and we wanted you with us."

"P-Pardon?" It was so incredulous you were sure you heard wrong. But, what else could he have said? "You do know what I am, right? We've only known each other for a couple of decades so be honest if you need a reminder."

Mydei scoffs and grabs you by the back of your shirt, hefting you to your tippy toes to growl, "Our Beta's got jokes. If you can jest then you can mate."

"WHAT?!" You kick your feet comically in the air, trying to find some sort of purchase, "I can't mate - I physically cannot mate! Not with an Alpha!!"

Phainon chimes in giddily, "Two Alphas! Don't worry, we'll ensure you're thoroughly pregnant by the end of this rut."

Body limits aside, being a beta means your reproductive organs aren't open to be used. They're sitting inside you, dormant. For some reason, you don't think they see that as a drawback, instead viewing your biology as more of a challenge to be tackled.

...

Day six and you're sore. Your legs, which have been in every position possible. Your arms, which are restrained when they're doing anything that's not fucking you. Your poor, poor hole, which hasn't been dry in days. Your oversensitive cock, now you can't tell what liquid comes out, your last orgasm streaming like piss on the rock below.

Phainon drags his hot, wet tongue up your neck, moaning as he slips his erected cock into you again. Your mouth hangs open, arse clenching when he's stopped by his knot hitting your rim. He's got you in a full nelson, your thighs over his own, a sound of discomfort coming from you at the stretch of his knot trying to enter you.

He shudders, lightly humping upwards, "Do you smell that, Mydei? He's changing."

Mydei flops his own dick in your face, tracing his leaking tip along the bone of your cheek before he slips his length between your lips, "How interesting. All our darling beta needed was a little push."

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as they fuck you again, your pretty, little hole gaping ever larger to accommodate them.

...

The cold, wet soil near the falls was blissful on your overheating skin. You've never felt this hot before, you assume it's a fever coming on from being under these two for however many days now. Mydei has you on your back, tongue swirling and mouth slurping at your puckered arse.

It was nice to just relax and be tended to, as fucked up as that seems. Phainon was behind him, washing his own body and admiring the scene before him.

Mydei licks a stripe from your hole, up the length of your taint and to your flaccid cock. He coos patronisingly, kissing the sensitive tip and making you jolt, "Poor sweetheart, have we been too rough with you?"

It's too little too late to ask you that now. You stick with your mission of giving them the silent treatment unless necessary, turning your head away and closing your eyes, thinking back on the coolness of the soil.

Until, "A-Ahh! S-Stop!" You moan, hands going to his hair and yanking as hard as you can, trying to stop him from swallowing your cock and drinking it over and over again. The way his tongue and cheeks move against your flesh has you throbbing and twitching in his mouth. "I can't, I can't," you breathe, swaying your head side to side as if to deny the oncoming torture.

But you can't, even half-hard he has you spurting your cum down his throat. You hold his head down with each half-hearted thrust, only to pull again before another tingling jolt of your hips.

When you can open your eyes again, you pleadingly gaze to Phainon, who had paused his washing to stare solely at you both. His eyes dart to meet yours, mind working overtime to bring him out of his daze and pull lightly on his companion, "Hey, save some for me, okay? Let him recuperate a bit."

Mydei flies his elbow back, not getting off you. At this, Phainon clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and locks the blonde's head with his elbow, flipping him back into the water.

You take a deep breath as they start to wrestle. Now you can rest again, you rarely get time to yourself now. When they sleep, sometimes, you're still plugged with one of them inside you, cockwarming throughout the night. Otherwise, when they go hunting, you might be tied tightly inside the cave, though there is usually at least one of them with you.

A gentle rain starts, the drops hitting your heated face. You need this, the rain a lot cooler than the falls as it collects in the sky. Lately, you've been feeling weird, unwell, hot. It's unlike anything you've ever experienced before.

Not to mention their scent. The boys' sweat, bodies, just everything about them is becoming less off putting and more desirable than ever. If you're honest, you're scared with what's happening.

...

They had both left you in the cave, the rain a perfect mask for hunting good meat right now.

"Need to keep our darling's energy up!"

You're not sure when, but some time after they left you were reeling in some sort of pain. Not like being slashed by a sword, or thrown by an enemy, but more like a strange punch to the gut. It blossomed within you and bloomed around your body, effecting your head and pelvis the most.

Breathing became difficult, your chest rising and falling quickly, you couldn't focus on how to fix it. No, not with the gnawing pain and discomfort in your gut.

You had wormed your way towards the entrance but the rope only let you go so far. They didn't give you enough leeway to get more than halfway through the cave, which meant you couldn't get any rain to cool you down.

What you did find, however, was their sashes they didn't wear today. Your nose twitched, and you reached your tied wrists over so your fingers could grab the red fabric and scrunched it to your face, moaning in absolute delight. Quickly, you secured the blue and gold one and weaved it between your legs, covering as much of your body as you could.

You're not sure when they came back, only realising they were standing ominously at the entrance of the cave when their musk started to seep heavier than the sashes you were breathing. The rain hadn't let up, both of them drenched and Mydei holding the antlers of a dead deer beside him.

Your jaw trembles, tears running down your cheeks as you whimper, "What's happening to me?"

It's only when you talk do they enter, dropping the carcass to the side before carefully kneeling down to cradle you. Your ropes are torn off and you sit between the two men, both leaning so they can run their teeth over the scent glands in your neck.

You whine as Mydei gently nibbles you, a low groan causing your cock to leak rivulets down your shaft, "Perfect for biting now."

Phainon reaches to gasp your cock, smoothly jerking up the length before circling his fingers along the glands, "I knew your unawaken second gender was this. You just had to be an omega, what with the way you were taunting us; begging to be bred."

Unawaken... Omega? No, that's-

"Hah~ Please..." You lift your hips when you feel fingers enter inside you, easily stretching you open now.

Mydei chuckles deeply, grinning at all the new possibilities going through his head, "Perfect for knotting now, too."

[dfstolenart]

Home With You | Criminal Minds

.・��✭・. Spencer Reid x F!Reader .・゜✭・.

Summary: After a long and emotionally exhausting day, you come home feeling overwhelmed from the weight of your job but luckily your sweet loving boyfriend is there to comfort you.

A/N: so cuteeeee, love this one. Lmk your thots<33

BYR (B4 u Reid): sweet Spencer!, hard day at work, hints at abuse, child gets taken away, sad reader, sweet talk, flirting and feeling of not being enough. | kissing <— [warnings]

Your home was dimly lit when you entered the smell of a vanilla candle filled your nose, and your boyfriend was on the couch with a book on his lap

The weight of the day still pressing on your shoulders, you shut the door quietly behind you and drop your bag down with little care to where it lands

The exhaustion isn’t just physical, it sits in your bones heavy and aching, like the stories you’ve heard today, the ones you can’t unhear. The ones that make you question if you’re even making a difference.

You forget you’re standing in the middle of the entry way until a soft gentle voice pull you out “You’re late.”

He’s still sat on the couch only this time his eyes are on you scanning your face the way he does when he profiles a suspect “I know.” You murmur as you kick off your shoes “Didn’t expect to be.”

You make your way towards him, and he quickly closes his book moving it to the side of him “Come here.” He softly says as he pulls you onto his lap “tough day?”

The laugh that leaves you is hallow “That’s one way to put it.” Before you can say anything else Spencer’s hand is cupping your face, his thumbs brushing lightly over your cheekbones

His touch is grounding, pulling you back from the spiral you feel yourself slipping into.

“Want to talk about it?”

You shake your head “not yet”

He nods, understanding in his eyes “okay”

You rest your head on him, and grab his hands interlacing them together

For a while neither of you speak. The silence is comfortable, a stark contrast to the chaos in your mind. But Spencer is patient, he always is. He knows you’ll talk when you’re ready. Eventually you break the silence, your voice barely above a whisper.

“There was a little boy today. Six years old. His mom.. she” your voice cracked “She wasn’t a monster, Spencer. She wasn’t some evil person, but she was sick, and he was the one paying for it.” You feel his arms tighten around you, and he presses a soft gentle kiss to the side of your head “I’m sorry” he murmurs

“I had to take him away. He cried the whole time for his mommy, telling me she didn’t mean it trying to convince me to take him back home.” Your eyes stung with tears and you squeeze them shut “I know I did the right thing, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

Spencer sighed, and squeezed your hand “Do you know how many times I’ve asked myself if I’ve done the right thing? If all of us at the BAU have? We don’t always get happy endings. Sometimes we don’t even get closure, But what keeps me going, what keeps us all going is knowing that we tried. That we did everything we could.”

You met his gaze, searching for something understanding, reassurance. And you find it.

His hand leaves yours to brush a tear from your cheek “That little boy… he might not understand now, but one day, he will. And because of you he’ll have a chance at something better.”

You let out a shaky breath

“I just feel like I’m suffocating sometimes, like no matter how much I do it’s never enough for these kids. I want to do more for them, i wish I could just take all their pain from them.”

Spencer pulled you in closer to him “you’re doing more than enough.” You close your eyes allowing yourself to believe him, even if it’s just for tonight.

“I love you” you whisper

“I love you too.” He says, holding you tighter, as if he could shield you from all the darkness in the world.

Spencer holds you against him for a long time, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns along your arm. His warmth, his presence, it’s enough to keep you tethered even when your mind still lingers on the weight of the day

“You know.” He murmurs, his voice lighter now, teasing “cuddling releases oxytocin, which reduces stress and promotes emotional bonding. So technically I am scientifically proven to be good for you.”

You both look at each other smiles both plastered on your faces “oh, is that so Dr. Reid?”

“Mhm” he hums clearly pleased with himself “Also prolonged physical affection can also lower blood pressure and improve someone’s overall mood. So, really, I’d be doing you a disservice if I let you go.”

Amusement flickered through your tired eyes “To me, that sounds like an excuse to keep me in your arms.”

He smirked “It’s science. Don’t argue against it.”

You shake your head rolling your eyes “I think you just like having me close.”

“I do” he admits easily, his voice dropping just slightly sending a shiver down your spine, his fingers continue to trail lightly up and down your arm “You’re warm, you smell good and well I’m very fond of you.”

“Fond of me?” You raised an eyebrow “You’re supposed to be utterly obsessed with me.”

He let out a small laugh “what if I say I’m completely, hopelessly in love with you? That I think about you every second we’re apart, and when you’re not in my arms, I wish you were.”

Your breath catches, your heart flutters you feel so special to hear these words come from the man in front of you “That's better.” you say

Spencer leans in, brushing his nose against yours before pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. It's slow, lingering, and so sweet

Then he pulls back, you feel empty without his lips on yours “Then i’ll remind you every day for as long as I live.” your heart swelled

“You're really good at this whole comforting thing.” You smile as you rest your forehead against his, he grins “Well I do have an IQ of 18-”

“Shut up” you cut him off with a desperate kiss . . .

[mrsbarnesblog]

dirty work

summary: Cleaning Tanneyhill was just a job until Rafe Cameron made it his business to get under your skin. Little did you know that behind his countless insults and smug looks, he was fighting himself for liking a pogue. And when the house was empty, he finally stopped trying.

word count: 2.3k.

warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, power imbalance?, degradation, dirty talk, manhandling, kinda mean Rafe

Tanneyhill was just another job for you. The marble floors, the grand staircase, expensive furniture, and even more expensive pieces of decor, but it didn’t impress nor interest you in the slightest. It was just a place to clean, just another shift that paid the bills. You had grown used to the Kooks sneering down at you and seeing you as a person below them, and Rafe Cameron was no different.

If anything, he was worse.

From the first time you stepped foot in the house, he had made it clear you were beneath him. The way he looked at you, the way he scoffed when you passed by—it was nothing new, but with him, it was harsher, more intense, and sometimes it hurt you more than you could’ve admitted. He didn’t just ignore you like the others did. He made sure you knew exactly what he thought of you.

“You missed a spot.” He had muttered once, walking past you without sparing you a glance, leaving you seething and way too bothered for your liking.

It was always something. A comment, a glare, a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine for reasons you didn’t want to acknowledge. You had convinced yourself he just hated you—hated you because you were a Pogue, because you didn’t belong in his world, because he was Rafe.

What you didn’t know was that Rafe Cameron was losing his mind.

It started the first time he saw you bending over to scrub the floors, your uniform, that for some fucking reason you always had to wear, riding up just enough to reveal the curve of your thighs. He hadn’t meant to stare, hadn’t meant to let his mind wander, but fuck, once it did, he couldn’t stop.

Every time you were around, his body betrayed him.

It was a problem.

You’d be dusting the bookshelves, and he’d find himself gripping the edge of the counter, trying to keep himself from reaching out. You’d be wiping down the kitchen counters, and he’d have to leave the room entirely because just the sight of your fingers running over the marble made him throb in his jeans. It was infuriating. You were a fucking Pogue. He had no business thinking about you like that, no business picturing the way your lips would feel around his cock, or how tight you’d be if he just—

No.

He hated you. That was easier to believe.

But then, one afternoon, he lost all reason.

For once, the house was empty. Rose gone, Ward gone, Sarah and Wheezie nowhere to be found. He had been watching you all day, not actually following you, but lurking around, observing. Watching the way your body moved as you worked, watching the way your fingers wrapped around the cleaning supplies, gripping, twisting—

He had enough.

You were dusting the shelves in Ward Cameron’s office when you heard the door click shut behind you.

“You shouldn’t be touching that.” Rafe’s voice was drawled, low, and rough. He stood there, hands in the pockets of his jeans and a slight frown on his face, as his eyes zeroed in on you holding an antique vase from his father’s collection.

You sighed, already bracing yourself for whatever attitude he was about to throw your way. “It’s my job, Cameron.”

That should’ve been the end of it. He should’ve rolled his eyes and walked out like he usually did. But this time he didn’t.

Instead, he stepped closer, his presence shifting the air in the room, thickening it. The clean, sharp scent of his cologne wrapped around you, making your movements hesitant for a second. He was close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him.

“Your job, huh?” He muttered, leaning against the massive oak desk. “You like being on your knees all day, huh, Pogue?”

Your grip on the cloth tightened. “Go to hell, Rafe.” He smirked. But there was something different in his eyes. It was intense, darker than usual, and for a second your stomach twisted before you focused back on cleaning. 

“You talk real tough.” He said, tilting his head. “But you wouldn’t last a second if I gave you what you really wanted.”

Your breath hitched. “What the hell are you talking about?”

His gaze flickered down to your lips, then lower. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Your pulse pounded in your ears when the realization of what he had just said sat it. The way his voice got deeper and he stepped closer to you made you get lost for words. You should have walked away. You should have turned on your heel and stormed out of the room.

But then he grabbed your wrist.

Your back hit the bookshelves before you could even register that Rafe had moved, his body pressing into yours, caging you in. The solid wood dug into your spine, but it wasn’t the only thing making your head spin.

Rafe was right there. His hand is still wrapped around your wrist, and his breath is fanning across your cheek.

“Tell me you don’t want this.” He murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, making your breath hitch. “Tell me.” He repeated, his fingers trailing down your side, gripping your hip. 

You hated him. You loathed him. He was everything wrong with the world you lived in. And yet, you didn’t move. You couldn’t. And Rafe took that as an answer.

His mouth crashed against yours, rough and demanding, stealing the air from your lungs. His hands were everywhere—gripping your waist, your ass, pulling you against him until you could feel just how badly he wanted you, how painfully hard he was in his jeans.

“You drive me fucking insane.” He growled against your lips, biting it until it almost started to bleed.

Your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer even as your mind screamed at you to stop. But it was impossible. Not when he was looking at you like that. Not when his hands were so desperate and demanding.

He lifted you effortlessly, setting you on Ward’s desk, pushing your legs apart as he stepped between them.

“I should hate you.” He muttered, his fingers sliding up your thighs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “I do hate you.” But the way he was touching you, the way his breath was uneven against your skin, felt like anything but hate.

Rafe didn’t waste time, pushing your legs furter from each other with his hips, looming over you in a way that made you let him do with you whatever he wanted. His grip was rough, hands moving like he had been waiting for this, aching for it.

“You wanna pretend you don’t want this?” He muttered, dragging his fingers up your thighs, pushing your uniform higher and higher. “Like you don’t get wet thinking about me?” Your breath hitched as he yanked you forward, his hands gripping your hips, his thumbs pressing into the soft skin beneath your skirt.

“You’re disgusting.” You shot back, looking right back at his hooded eyes, your voice sharper than you felt, because fuck, you should’ve stopped this. Fucking in your boss’s office with his son? With Rafe fucking Cameron? Yeah, that was the stupidest idea.

He smirked, like he enjoyed the way you bit back and always knew what to say to him, not like other people who were too afraid to open their mouth. He wanted to see how far he could push you.

“And you’re soaked through your panties.” He murmured, shamelessly shoving his hand between your legs, pressing his fingers against the damp fabric. “What’s that say about you, huh?”

You glared at him, but it was useless. The heat in his eyes was unbearable, searing through you, making your skin burn under his touch.

Rafe was quick about it, tugging your underwear to the side and running his fingers through your slick folds before pulling away completely. Your eyes started rolling back from an unfamiliar, rough, and urgent touch, but you barely had time to register the loss before he was grabbing your wrist and pulling you off the desk.

“Couch. Now.”

You let him lead you to the leather couch against the wall, the one Ward sat on when he wanted to have his serious, businesslike conversations. The thought of that almost made you laugh—how furious he would be if he knew what his son was about to do to you right here.

Rafe didn’t give you time to think, as he was already yanking his belt open, shoving his jeans and boxers down just enough to free himself. Your breath caught at the sight of him—thick, hard, flushed at the tip.

“C’mon, Pogue.” He muttered, dropping onto the couch, leaning back like he was making himself comfortable. “Put yourself to work.”

You clenched your jaw. He was such a fucking asshole, but the way he was looking at you with that lazy and smug smirk playing at his lips sent something dangerous twisting in your stomach. It would be stupid to deny how wet that image made you.

Your common sense was thrown out of the window in a second as you straddled his lap, your knees sinking into the leather on either side of his thighs. His hands were on you immediately, shoving your skirt up, grabbing handfuls of your ass like he had the right to.

“That’s it.” Rafe murmured, his voice dark with something between amusement and hunger. “Knew you’d be a good little slut for me.”

You wanted to slap him for that. You wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up. But when one warm and heavy hand stayed on the side of your ass and the other one grabbed his cock, rubbing the head against your soaked panties, every sharp retort died on your tongue.

“Go on.” He said, pressing just enough to tease, just enough to make your hips shift, desperate for more. “Sit on it.”

You yanked your underwear aside and sank down, the stretch burning just enough to make you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders. You hissed, throwing your head back and biting back a moan, but the way your thighs trembled on either side of him made it pretty obvious. 

“Fuck.” Rafe groaned, his hands flying to your hips, fingers digging into your flesh, and pushing you even further down, until he fully settled inside. “Tight as hell. Like this pussy’s never had a real cock before.”

Your breath shuddered, your body adjusting to the way he filled you and stretched you. His hands moved to your waist, guiding you, experimentally forcing you to slide up and down his cock until he was buried to the hilt.

“That’s right.” He groaned, throwing his head back against the couch, mouth slightly open and eyes focused on your furrowed face. “Take it.”

You moved, rolling your hips, trying to find a rhythm, and Rafe lost all semblance of composure.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He growled, his hands gripping and slapping your ass, pushing you down harder. “Look at you. Just a little housekeeper, bouncing on my cock in my dad’s office. Bet you never thought you’d end up here.”

Your fingers curled in his shirt, using it for leverage as you rode him, each roll of your hips making him grunt and tighten his grip.

“Goddamn.” His eyes locked on where your bodies met, mesmerized by the way you took him and noticing how more and more of your juices were sliding down his cock and probably ruining the leather of the couch. “Bet you love this, huh? Getting fucked by a Kook, letting me use you like this.” You slammed your ass again, making you whimper and bite your lip.

Your breath came in sharp pants, your thighs burning from the position, but you didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Not when he felt this good. Not when every movement sent electricity surging through your veins.

Rafe’s fingers snaked between your legs, rubbing tight, lazy circles against your clit. “C’mon.” He coaxed, his voice rough and desperate. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

At hearing his voice, your body betrayed you, and your hips started moving faster in a desperate attempt to reach your release. You were close, too close, your nails raking over his skin as the tension coiled tight in your stomach.

“That’s it.” Rafe groaned, his grip bruising, his thrusts meeting yours now, pushing his cock even deeper and making you almost see stars. “Give it to me.”

And then you snapped, your body clenched around him, your vision blurring, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as pleasure crashed through you.

Rafe followed right after, cursing as he buried himself deep and painted your insides with his cucm, his hands still gripping you like he never wanted to let go. 

For a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you was thick and heavy, while your body was limp on top of him.

Then, just as your breathing started to slow, Rafe smirked.

“Fuck.” He muttered, his hands running up your thighs. “Might have to keep you around, Pogue.” You glared at him, shoving his chest as you climbed off his lap, wincing at the feeling of his release slowly dripping down your leg. 

“Go to hell, Rafe.” You mumbled, trying to straighten your clothes and ignoring the smug and satisfied look on his face as he was still leaning back on the couch. 

You didn’t know what the hell just happened, what’s going to happen next, but something deep inside of you told you that it was far from over. 

[helen-with-an-a]

do ale/amor deal with any jealously issues?

specifically with it being amors first real wlw relationship

also if alexia’s past with Jenni is in this world does amor cope with that very well

I feel like when amor goes to England camp alexia isn’t jealous she’s just clingy because she misses amor but she does get a little stand offish when everyone is speaking in rapid English and using slang and she’s like wait what is going on, or when the girls tease amor about people from her past because they grew up together

but amor is like you can’t be jealous I only ever hooked up with those girls I only love you, but Alexia has an ex who she was with for a longggg time and amor could spiral and try and compare the two. Also the same issue when alexia and Jenni meet up and speak rapid Spanish and Amor is standing like what are you talking about!

Ok so lemme split this up, yeh?

Jealousy surrounding Alexia-Jenni relationship

There was a little bit at the beginning

Not so much in the sense of like ‘omg what if Ale still likes Jenni’ type jealousy because it is painfully obvious that Ale loves Amor so so so much

But more ‘omg what if Ale realises she wants someone who’s got experience in relationships/wlw relationships’ but that was quickly shut down with just how in love Ale is

It took Amor a minute to figure out Jenni and Alexia’s friendship but she’s chill with it all - she was more confused rather than unhappy about it

Amor knows that Ale would rather die than do anything remotely disrespectful and she knows she doesn’t have to worry about that at all

Amor is actually pretty good at Spanish now so Ale and Jenni chatting shit doesn’t really bother her, she can keep up fairly easily - it’s when Ale forgets Amor is there and starts yapping in Catalan around her friends and family that Amor is like babes stop

Jealousy surrounding National Camps

They both hate that they didn’t meet sooner in life but they can’t really change that

There is a little bit of confusion around the languages sometimes and they both feel a little left out at times but the other realises really quickly and fixes it asap

After tournaments both their accents get thicker and it takes them a minute to figure out words sometimes. They’re both like huh? when they come back from a tournament and have strong accents again and use slang without thinking

They don’t really get jealous over the friendships and stuff in the camps themselves - both know nothing would ever happen and they’ve all been friends for years/grown up together

[miange1]

if your requests are open , may i request a donnie fic where the reader (male) is kinda very feminine and donnie is internally homophobic but its less because the reader is feminine? im not really good at expressing myself sorry 🙏🏻🙏🏻 also smut if possible but fluff is okau too LOVE YOUR FICS MUAH ignore if your reqs are closed

DONNIE DARKO

feminine male reader(as in looks), this is short, donnie trying to make reader seem like a girl, it kinda works, bottom reader, donnie being a weirdo, fantasizing, oblivious reader, dirty thoughts but no actual sex, masterbation, other stuff idk

note: steady callin my phone i don told u b4 dat it's ova lea me loneeeeeee😩

you were pissing him off. it's not that you did anything to overall upset him, you were just..you. and to him, there was nothing wrong with that but at the same time everything was wrong with that.

when he first saw you, he accidentally mistook you for a girl who had grabbed the wrong uniform. was all the more confused when you came into the bathroom and started using the urinal. his crush for you instantly shattered, but only for a bit.

he had been confused and angry. why weren't you a girl? why did you have to be a guy?

he was starting to weird himself out, even when he'd found out sometimes certain thoughts would sneak through.

if you looked like a girl, then you'd take his dick like one wouldn't you? yeah, that made sense..

he'd think about it a whole bunch. think about his hands squeezing at your waist and plunging himself inside of you to make you cry out all for him.

your voice was beautiful, sounded like a girls too. "morning donnie!" god, why'd you have to do that? turn him on like that, you had to be doing it on purpose.

it was worse when you'd get close to him, made it look like you were flirting with him. "dude don't get so close man..that's weird." his heart would twinge each time your face would fall, and you would apologize and move away from him.

'fuck, fuck why did i say that?'

the thought of being gay was just too unnatural to him, he couldn't handle it.

after gym class it was worse. when you'd take your shirt off he could smell you even more. he saw your lips moving but heard none of it. his nose would twitch whilst he tried so hard not to stick his nose to your neck and inhale deeply. you smelled so good..like a warm bakery.

"donnie? you listening?" "yeah, keep talking.."

he took one of your clothes once, kept it and never washed it so the scent would stay on. he'd be obsessed with your smell, jack himself off. "pretty..so pretty.." even when he came all over his palm he couldnt stop, couldn't stop thinking of your body pressing against his.

the way your hair shaped your face, those soft features you had just made him want to fuck your face and make you take it down your throat.

"donnie, did you accidentally take my shirt? you know, the one with some cartoon character on it." he'd shut his locker, shrugging like he had absolutely no clue.

"mm..no, not sure i do."

[cece693]

Where's The Trust? Pt. 2

pairing: bucky barnes x male reader tags: steve really is an asshole, bucky trying to gain forgiveness, you are bitter as fuck, the avengers are conflicted, Tony taking matters into their own hands, good bro Tony, was gonna end it here but a reconciliation is in order, part 3 if wanted

It had been weeks since that horrible confrontation—weeks since you’d walked out on Bucky, burning with betrayal and heartbreak. And in that time, your anger had crystallized into a cold, vicious wall that no one—least of all Bucky—could penetrate.

Bucky tried. God, did he try. He sought you out in every corridor of the Avengers Compound, cornering you near the training gym, waiting for you outside the labs, even tentatively stopping by your quarters. But no matter how or where he approached, you shut him down with biting words or frosty glares. Sometimes you wouldn’t even look at him; you’d just shoulder past, exuding the kind of scorn that made everyone around you flinch.

You became, in Tony’s words, “the biggest asshole known to man.” Normally affable and considerate, you were now short-tempered, dismissive, and cold as ice. You brushed off team bonding sessions, training spars, even the usual group movie nights if he or Steve were in attendance. The rest of the team was confused, to say the least. After all, you and Bucky had been the golden couple—two people whose trust and loyalty seemed unshakeable. Now, you were outright hostile, and Bucky looked like a hollow shell of the man they once knew. No one knew the details of what went wrong; no one dared pry into the tinderbox of your anger.

Steve, in the meantime, tried to exploit the widening chasm between you and Bucky. “You need to move on,” he murmured one day in the gym, while Bucky had been pounding at the super-soldier-enforced punching bags, trying—and failing—to vent his frustration in a healthier way. “They’re never going to forgive you, Buck. Maybe it’s time you—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Bucky snapped, punching the bag off the chain and sending it skittering across the room. Sweat dripped down his face, but his eyes blazed colder than ice.

“I’m just saying,” Steve continued, stepping closer, “maybe we can find comfort in each oth—”

Bucky nearly flew at him, fists clenched. “Comfort?” he snarled, voice trembling with rage. “Don’t you dare talk to me about comfort, you self-serving bastard. You think you can just swoop in when I’m at my lowest and pick up the pieces? You destroyed everything!” His voice echoed off the empty gym walls, making Steve flinch. The blonde raised both hands, palms out, but Bucky didn’t let him speak again.

“You ruined my life—my relationship—so you could chase some pathetic fantasy that we were meant to be. Let me spell it out for you, Rogers: I don't love you nor do I want anything to do with you. Whatever we had is gone, dead. You come near me with that bullshit again, and I swear I’ll make you regret it.” A tense silence fell. Steve swallowed hard, eyes flicking with hurt, but Bucky stormed off before he could respond. From that moment on, any semblance of friendship between them was shattered.

The tension rose within the team so much that it was Tony—yes, the man who normally avoided confrontation like the plague—who finally mustered the nerve to corner you about what happened with Barnes. He cornered you in one of the compound’s smaller lounges, a glass-walled room where you wouldn’t have an easy escape route. You glowered at him the moment he closed the door, already anticipating the lecture you didn’t want.

“Look,” Tony said, raising both hands in mock surrender, “I get it—you’re in a Bad Mood with capital letters. Usually, I’d say that’s none of my business, but this is starting to affect mission readiness. And that is my business. So talk.”

You folded your arms, lips pressed in a tight line. “There’s nothing to say, Tony.”

“Right. Because you and your ex–mister perfect soldier just decided to stop talking and run around with matching doom-and-gloom expressions for fun.” Tony snorted, crossing his arms in return. “Come on, I’m not asking for graphic details. Just enough to, you know, keep the team from imploding. And—” He hesitated, then added more softly, “I’m worried about you.”

Your chest tightened. You hadn’t heard that tone from him in a while—an undercurrent of genuine concern rather than sarcastic deflection. It reminded you, painfully, that once upon a time you and Tony had been…well, something. Not precisely soulmates, but definitely more than friends. A messy tangle of mutual respect, attraction, and comfort that had eventually fizzled out amicably. And while your heart now belonged to Bucky (or did, anyway), you still had a lingering fondness for Tony that was tough to ignore.

You exhaled a shaky breath, your anger and sorrow warring behind your eyes. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine.”

His eyebrows lifted, and he gave a half-laugh. “Yeah, sure. And I’m the poster boy for healthy coping mechanisms.” Then his expression sobered. “(Y/N), please. Level with me. Something major happened, and if it keeps escalating, it’s not just you and Bucky who’ll suffer—it could jeopardize missions, our safety…everything.”

You closed your eyes. For a moment, your lips pressed into a thin, trembling line. You were so damn tired—tired of carrying all this anger, tired of everyone tiptoeing around you, tired of Bucky’s hollow stares. Part of you wanted to hold everything in. Another part was on the verge of bursting. And Tony…Tony was the one person who might actually understand. Hell, he’d seen you at your worst and never once thrown it back in your face.

Your eyes snapped open, and you found yourself speaking before you could lose your nerve. “He lied, Tony. Bucky lied to me. We were serious, and he never bothered to tell me about him and Steve. They used to…be together. And then I caught them kissing. I—” Your voice cracked, and you had to breathe through the sudden surge of raw pain. “I don’t know who started it. Bucky swears it was Steve, but I— I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

Tony’s face flickered with surprise, quickly followed by something like sympathy. “Steve and Bucky…” he muttered, rubbing his chin. “Wow, okay. That’s a new one for me.”

You snorted, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Yeah, well, apparently it wasn’t new for them. They’d had some fling back in the day, never told me, and now I’m the idiot left wondering if he ever really gave it up, or if I was just—just some stand-in.”

You could feel the tears welling up, which only made your anger twist into something more acidic. Dammit, you hated crying in front of others, especially Tony. But the betrayal still burned, and it wasn’t going away. Tony watched you carefully. “Hey,” he said softly, shifting closer. “You can be mad, y’know. You can feel every bit of this. You’re not wrong for it.”

His words—simple validation—threatened to break the floodgates. Despite the resentment swirling in your gut, you felt a small pocket of relief that he hadn’t brushed you off or told you to “get over it.” In fact, he looked unexpectedly sympathetic. “Doesn’t make it hurt any less,” you muttered, wiping angrily at your eyes.

“No,” Tony agreed, “it doesn’t. But sometimes we need the hurt. We need to acknowledge it before it can heal—or before we can figure out if it’s even worth healing.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Trust me, I know a thing or two about screwing up relationships.”

A tired laugh escaped you. “I remember.”

“Har har.” He rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m not defending Barnes’ secrecy—dumb move on his part, no question. But from what I’ve seen, the guy worships the ground you walk on. He’s miserable without you.”

“Well, he should’ve thought about that before he lied to me.” Your voice wavered between fury and sorrow. “I can’t just pretend everything’s okay.”

"And you shouldn't, (Y/N), but if there's one thing I know is that love is tougher than the shit we throw at it. If you're still this mad at him, it means a part of you still cares because if you didn't, you'd be indifferent. Anger is a sign there's something worth being angry over, you know?"

You stared at him, that sentiment rocking through you. You’d been so caught up in the betrayal, you hadn’t stopped to think about what your anger truly meant. If you truly wanted Bucky out of your life, why did the mere thought of him push your heart into overdrive?

“God, I hate that you’re making sense,” you mumbled, sniffing.

Tony quirked a small smile. “Don’t tell anyone. I’ve got a rep to maintain.”

You barked a watery laugh, your shoulders sagging. The relief of finally talking to someone—really talking—felt like a weight lifting, even if just a little. “So what now?” you asked, voice quiet. “I can’t just snap my fingers and fix this. Every time I see him, I remember— remember them together.”

He nodded. “I hear you. I’m not saying you have to forgive him tomorrow. But maybe give yourself some breathing room. Let the anger settle a bit. Once the rage isn’t so blinding, maybe you can see if there’s anything to salvage—any explanation that doesn’t make you want to throttle him.” He paused, then added wryly, “And, well, if you can’t salvage it, at least you’ll know you tried.”

A weighted silence lingered. You exhaled slowly, struggling to keep your emotions in check. Finally, you lifted your gaze to Tony’s, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “When did you become the voice of reason?”

He patted your shoulder. “Probably around the time I decided I actually give a damn about the people on this team. Don’t spread it around.” Despite yourself, you laughed again—hoarsely, but genuinely. It was the first time in weeks you’d felt anything close to lightness. Tony gave you a half-smile, pressing a small handkerchief into your hand. You recognized it as one of his showier accessories, printed with tiny Iron Man helmets.

“Here,” he said. “Use it to dab away those tears before someone catches on that you still have a heart.”

You rolled your eyes but accepted it gratefully, wiping the dampness from your cheeks. “Thanks, Tony,” you murmured. “For listening. For everything.”

He shrugged in that trademark Stark way—casual but genuine. “Anytime, (Y/N). Just don’t go ballistic on me if I try to get you two in the same room. I’m not saying I will, but, you know…hypotheticals.”

You shot him a half-hearted glare, tempered by a ghost of a smile. “Don’t push your luck.”

He grinned. “Noted.”

With that, he opened the lounge door, allowing you to slip back into the compound’s corridors. But somehow, the air felt a fraction less suffocating—and for the first time in weeks, you dared to consider the possibility that, maybe, healing wasn’t entirely off the table.

[oneforthemunny]

you mentioned rockstar eddie watching her have their babies and still being obsessed ofc, and i’m wondering how janitor eddie would be, esp if she was feeling self conscious

so here's my thoughts on this, because i love janitor!eddie from the bottom of my heart, but... he's a little ball of anxiety and sometimes it makes the situation soooo much worse. like he gets in his own head, and stays in his own head, won't tell you what's going on just starts acting weird, so you think it's you and in reality, he's just in need of prozac lmao.

since oliver was adopted, there was no "down period" ya know? if anything, i think watching you be a mom to him and be sweet to him and kind and loving, it made eddie even fucking more insatiable than before in the most love sicken devoted way.

after you gave birth to olivia, it was different. through the pregnancy, he'd already been a little nervous with you. there's a full blurb about it, where he's nervous to touch you because he doesn't want to hurt you. bless him, there's not a lot out there at the time (early 90s) about having sex and being pregnant lol. so he's just scared. better to stay hands off than hurt you. which in the blurb, doesn't last because once you tell him you want to and it's ok, he's actually feral.

but after olivia, the doctor tells the usual, no sex for this six weeks or it can hurt you. eddie, ofc, asked a million questions about every single thing (turned a thirty minute visit into an hour and a half), but specifically about what could happen, how would you know if you're healed, what did they do to verify that everything was good, was there a test- like a million questions.

six weeks turns into eight, and it's really not too bad because you're both exhausted and literally collapse into each other. but around ten weeks, the routine is becoming more normal, olivia's sleeping through the night, you both feel like you can catch your breath, but eddie's still so distant with sex? like everything else is so good, but if you try to initiate, kiss him a little deeper, make yourself into the little spoon and back your ass up on him, he stills and shuts it down.

by eleven weeks, you're frustrated. by twelve, almost three months, you're hurt. wayne kept the kids for the night, wanted to give you two some alone time and wanted to spend time with his grandbabies, and you think it's perfect. you're about to go back to work, and it seems like a good time to "break the seal" so to say.

you have a dinner at home, he cooked, wined and dined you, is so so soooo fucking sweet and lovey. you're on the couch, watching a movie, but really making out like you used to. you can feel him, feel him getting hard, and when you try to make a move, he starts like panicking. apologizing, and trying to hide it.

"fuck, i-i'm sorry. i don't, just gimme a second, an-and i'll-"

"-so do you just think i'm disgusting now?" tears in your eyes, you're beyond hurt. you'd heard so many stories about men who saw their wives give birth and didn't want to have sex anymore, deemed them gross, but you never in a million years though eddie- your sweet, kind, perfect eddie would be one of them.

eddie is on the brink of an anxiety attack, because ???? why would you think that? you're the prettiest, most beautiful girl in the world to him, and he tells you so.

"then why... why are you not wanting to have sex?" you blubber around your tears. hormones still wild even after, emotional from the hurt too.

"i know you're hard. i can see it." you point to his crotch, his semi still prominent. "so it's me."

"no, no. what? no." eddie thinks he might throw up, head spinning so fast. "it-it's not you-"

"-yes it is! why else wouldn't you want to? it's because i had a baby, and-and you think-"

"-don't." eddie's throat is tight, swallowing his heart. "it's- i- i just- i don't want to hurt you."

"hurt me? you are hurting me. you're hurting my feelings because you won't even touch me."

eddie does nearly throw up, swallows bile and it's like his world is turned up side down. he was so fucking scared, petrified, of having sex with you after and accidentally ripping something. that maybe you weren't healed, that the doctor made a mistake, and he'd fuck you and cause you to like, internally bleed and die or something insane. or that he'd just hurt you, that it would hurt and he'd hear you in pain, and he'd never forgive himself.

you'd just given him everything he ever wanted, made the ultimate sacrifice out of love, and he would not- could not hurt you over that. if he did, he'd genuinely be unable to live with himself.

after he finally just tells you that, instead of being so fucking weird, you calm him down. tell him it doesn't hurt, that you'd let him know if it did.

"just... just use your fingers first. and if it hurts, we can stop and i'll go to the emergency room. i promise. you won't hurt me." you tell him, gently cupping his cheek.

and really, it didn't take much convincing after he finally spilled what had been eating at his mind, once you soothed him. i mean, he had also been in agony. every time you'd take off your top or bend over to pick up a toy, he'd have to run to the bathroom because he was so fucking hard.

it was never unattraction, it was genuinely just his own mind and anxieties and spiraling.

[separatist-apologist]

This … Ferye and Lucien have one of the most realistic friendship and relationship in this books especially knowing their foundation. People are always like Ferye is a bad friend to Lucien or Lucien is a bad friend to Ferye but how about they both had moments where they were bad and good to each other, and that’s okay, sometimes friendships are like that but at the base of it you can tell there is no toxicity.

She ate with that friendship and I think she wants to pull it with Nesta and Azriel but I don’t know if it hits as good.

Also don’t quote me but worst friendship being the batboys😭😂 wouldn’t touch that with a ten foot pole. Also Tamlin and Lucien are pretty close seconds. I don’t think SJM knows how to write male friendships. Power dynamics are always off.

Anon you said the one thing I am always privately ranting about this to @the-lonelybarricade. Lucien saying, "you were always a better friend to me than blah blah blah" is not the author stating it as fact, it is a man riddled with self-loathing and his own failures saying that because he is DROWNING!!! IN!!!! HIS!!!!! GUILT!!!!!!! OVER!!!! THINGS!!!! OUTSIDE!!!! HIS!!!! CONTROL!!!!! what is not CLICKING???? In Acomaf we are LITERALLY in his head via Feyre and she EXPLICITLY tells us all this and then all character analysis flies out the window when it's time to use critical thinking.

He is blaming himself for what happened in Hybern and his inability to stop it!!! For not recognizing what, in retrospect, feels like an obvious trap!! SJM is very much all tell, no show, so I'm not sure why this is always gets pulled out of context to prove Lucien was the better friend.

You're exactly right- they both have intensely shitty moments to one another, coupled with FIERCE loyalty. "Lucien is also Feyre's abuser" SHUT UP. "Feyre was worse than anything Lucien did for making fun of the Boe" SHUT UP. Shes JEALOUS. He's also being ABUSED. Its all he KNOWS, his whole life is dodging and managing being abused.

When Lucien thinks Feyre is being held captive against her will, he TRACKS HER DOWN to try and save her. He BEGS her to come home. And when Lucien realizes Feyre is about to destroy spring, he could have done ANTYHING to stop her. Literally ANYTHING. Tamlin trusts him implicitly- Lucien could have warned him. He literally watches her orchestrate these moments and says nothing.

When he wants to go through Summer vs Autumn for good ass reason, and she explains its too dangerous for her in Summer, he takes her into Autumn despite the inherent risk to himself. Feyre delays her own leaving Spring, when she knows the faebane is about to render her ability to winnow inert, because she realizes Lucien isn't able to free himself from Ianthe and needs her help.

They are complex, their friendship fraught and complicated but they love each other deeply. He didn't leave Spring and Tamlin just for Elain- he left for Feyre, too. He doesn't have to do anything for Rhys's court in order to be near Elain, he chooses to because he also loves Feyre.

[neoraso]

out of my league | pwb

this was requested a year ago and i've literally been working on it since then on and off. to the original anon I AM SO SORRY.. 2k+ wonbin wants to play things cool until it gets to be too much,, enjoy~~~

wonbin honestly did not know how he managed to woo you with his confession (what he thought was a disaster), and keep you on top of that, for the last three months. every day, he waited for you to get up and leave him, after realizing that he was not cut out to be with someone he thought was as perfect as you. someone so well-rounded, so mature with a good sense of humor. he tried so hard to keep up and seem just as put-together around you, but he felt his affections bursting at the seams just over a text from you.

you on the other hand were also starting to wonder if his nonchalance would continue forever or if he’d give up the act- if it was an act (fingers crossed) . it was something that enticed you to begin with, how someone as gorgeous, talented, genuine and kind as him showed interest in you- albeit restrained- but sometimes you wondered what was going on inside his pretty little head.

it wasn’t really as if you doubted his feelings for you. if the deep and lingering kisses weren’t enough, the meals delivered to your door, or even the way he couldn’t help but squeeze you once more before letting you go were all little signs that he cared more than he let on. so when he couldn’t 100% hide his smile when he teased you or held his breath when you threw your legs over his lap, it made you wonder what it would take to get him to crack.

his behavior nor his stiff reactions had deterred you thus far from showing him how much you liked him, but lately it made you falter, wondering if maybe you were being too much.

by the grace of the gods, both you and wonbin were homebodies to the same extent, to the point of your friends joking that one day you’d melt into your bed together (which made you laugh and grab his hand while he turned his face and tried to will the tips of his ears to stop burning).  it was convenient in the way that you never stressed each other with expectations of outings but also made days like this, where he asked you to wear something “cute” and he’d pick you up for a day at the water gardens, more special.

whatever “cute” meant you weren’t really sure, it always stressed you out a bit to keep up with your boyfriend’s fashion tastes especially because he didn’t even seem to notice or draw attention to the outfits you wore- at least not verbally. he could never help smoothing down your sleeves or pinching the collar of your shirts, but it hadn’t slipped past you how he hesitated to grab the strings of your hoodies or sweats or clenched his fist instead of patting your head.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

wonbin picked you up in a very timely manner as per usual, waiting outside.

you opened the door to see your boyfriend sitting in his car, looking nothing short of debonair also as per usual. when he saw your head pop out of the crack of the door, bouncing as you hopped around putting your shoes on, he got out of the driver’s seat, trying to bite back the giggle burning in his throat from how adorable you were. he glided over to the passenger door, bending down when you reached him to kiss your cheek.

“hi baby.”

he said nothing more, humming at your breathless reply. opening the door, he waited until you were safely inside before shutting it and cooly making it back into his side.

were you on the verge of foaming at the mouth from how good he looked today? yes.

were you still going to keep your hands to yourself to push him to the edge? also yes.

every woman has their limit and after three months you had reached yours. you just hoped you knew him as well as you thought you did so that this plan would come to fruition.

you noticed him glance up at you while he secured his seat belt, reaching over and checking yours too. he faced forward changing the gear into drive as he cleared his throat and spoke out.

“you look nice today. i- well…yeah.”

his incoherence was solidified with a thick gulp.

you were used to his sentences that trailed off more often than not. they didn’t upset you and you never pushed him. it was cute really, and his friends had recently mentioned to you in passing how nervous wonbin was in reality, sometimes shutting down to avoid embarrassing himself.

nevertheless, you simply smiled and thanked him, waiting.

he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as you placed your hands in your lap, resisting the urge to turn your head and ogle at him for the duration of the trip. meanwhile, wonbin tried to keep his cool persona up on the 23 minute drive while also trying to decipher what kind of agenda you seemed be up to.

at first, he was worried he had done something to upset you, but you had responded to him with a bright voice and an even brighter smile- the one he wished he could tell you he loved so much. usually though, by now you would’ve tucked his hair behind his ear or squeezed his arm or leaned over the console to silently ask for a kiss, anything. it wasn’t like he felt like it was your responsibility to initiate affection, but you seemed to do it so naturally. and truthfully, it had been weighing on his mind for weeks, wondering if he held back too much.

when wonbin first met you, he had to overplay it cool so you wouldn’t be able to tell how nervous you made him and think he was a loser. he is also painfully aware that he’s indebted to sungchan for introducing you to the friend group and bringing you around again after seeing how taken with you wonbin was. of course, that’s not to minimize how you stuck around him at group hangouts for some reason he could not figure out, waiting on his words patiently and sweetly conversating with him until finding a sly way to ask for his number. if you were anyone else, he might’ve thought you only talked to him because of his looks, which had happened more often than not with girls, but as cliché as it sounded, you were different. everything about you was so grounding and inescapable, he fell for you almost instantly then retreated just as quick once he realized how deep it was getting. he often wondered if it scared you as much as it did him. he cursed himself every hour he held back over the next few weeks from sending you pictures of things that reminded him of you or just to tell you he missed you. of course, he was much more comfortable online than he was in front of you, when he was distracted by your glossy lips or the way you styled your hair, but it was a constant internal battle of how much was too much that might drive you away.

now, none of that should’ve mattered because he had you, but as your fingers danced over your skirt and you looked out the window, he ached to reach over and pinch your cheek or grab your smaller hands in his, but he was just… frozen. when he was up at night thinking about you, his mind often wandered to the way he treated you. he wondered if you could feel how much he cared about you. if he acted on his affections, would it scare you away? it shouldn’t have frustrated him the way his friends complimented your outfits or the way your girlfriends pulled you onto their laps and kissed your cheek goodbye in front of everyone, but it did. there was no reason to assume you would be opposed to him all over you, but a part of him wondered if his biggest appeal to you was this tough guy thing he had going on. he wondered if you would still like him as much if he was as vulnerable and playful as he wanted to be with you.

all of this speculating took up his brain power for the trip and he realized he hadn’t said anything since you left your house which was exactly the kind of blunder that kept him up at night. after he had parked, you stayed sitting for a beat, looking over at him with a shy smile that made him want to say screw the date and uncharacteristically pounce on you. you probably saw the error code printed on his forehead because you simply laughed and reached to unbuckle your seat belt.

sort of, he guessed, to make up for his silence, he practically leaped out of the car to open your door and help you out. as much as he worried about seeing a hint of disappointment in your eyes, he was so enamored with you and addicted to the exhilaration your presence gave him, he couldn’t help but look at you. there was no disappointment or judgment in your eyes, only adoration with a glimmer of mischief which made him squirm.

did he forget a milestone day? did he have something on his face?

he bit back the shaky inhale and smoothed his expression over again into a lopsided smirk,

“what is it?...” he tugged a strand of your hair to emphasize his antsiness without having to say it.

“oh nothing,” you say slyly, “let’s go hm?”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

the rest of the date went actually rather smoothly to (mostly) his surprise but you noticed a palpable shift the longer you didn’t give in to having your hands all over him.

the snacks he bought at the food stall for the both of you were put right up to your lips, the corner of your mouth wiped immediately as soon as a crumb fell on them. he moved you around with an arm around your shoulders and snuck pictures of you as you admired the fishes in the pond and the flowers lining the road you walked on with intertwined fingers. once you reached the main bridge that overlooked the water you led the way, leaning against the railing and sighing thoughtfully.

“you’re being extra sweet today bin.”

you didn’t even say it mischievously, staring straight into the pond that had started to glitter in the sun that had hit its peak. your stray hairs were blown messily in front of your face in the breeze, and he was trying his very best to not disturb the moment and move them back behind your ear for you. he really was trying his best but eventually all of his racing thoughts from the last few weeks bubbled up until he couldn’t take it anymore. he put his hand on your shoulder, getting you to look at him before turning you fully facing him. it seemed your plan had worked but now the reward was starting to make you apprehensive with the twitch of his eyebrows and each tentative breath he took. he had both hands on your shoulders as he opened and closed his mouth debating where to start.

“you’re so… pretty.”

your eyebrows quirked as you wondered where this was going.

“wonbin…what’s the matter?”

“nothing is the matter. well- no i guess that’s not true i…” he trailed off as his hands slid over your arms and pulled you into an embrace. he couldn’t focus on talking when you looked at him like that.

“i just love you.” he felt your breath stop and the sun burned against his back. he felt like he was sandwiched between two stars. “i love you and i honestly don’t know how to show you- i don’t want to show- i don’t want to pressure you or seem clingy but i am clingy. i think about you all the time, i don’t want to miss you anymore i want to be with you all the time and tell you everything i like about you. i don’t want to lose you. i’m sorry if it ever seemed like i wasn’t interested, you seriously scared me at first i didn’t want to mess anything up.”

he hard stopped there when he felt himself start to stumble over his own tongue and realized you hadn’t said a word. now he was sure he’d said too much. you surely didn’t realize what you were getting into when you-

“wonbin.” you spoke against his shoulder, your hair brushed against his lips where he held you.

“i feel like i can hear you freaking out.” you giggled when you said it, but he didn’t feel ashamed, he felt…lighter. he laughed with you and loosened the grip he had on your shirt.

you raised your hands to belatedly reciprocate his hug, running your nails against his spine making him shiver.

“i’m glad to know it’s not just me that’s obsessed.” you pulled away as he averted his eyes to the ground. emphasizing the circling of your arms around his lithe middle you kept your eyes on his face. “i thought maybe you were just shy, then i thought maybe you just weren’t affectionate like that.”

 he looked back at you, eyes round and swallowing thickly, with a childlike pout on his face, “no i’m just dumb.”

now you really laughed, and it made him smile that he could finally be so open. “i thought maybe you wouldn’t like me if i wasn’t cool… or something like that…”

“ah, so you think i’m shallow...“

his eyes rounded in panic.

“no! no not- not shallow not- it’s my own thing i ma-“

“i’m just messing bin.”

“ugh don’t do that!” he threw his head back in desperation. “ i think you’re lovely and sweet and too patient with me. i…”

he couldn’t remember what he was going to say because of your lidded gaze on him. he knew what you wanted because he wanted it just as bad so he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. he drank in your sweet hum and nipped at your bottom lip when you couldn’t help but smile. his warm lips moved to the corner of your mouth and cheek when he gave up on kissing your teeth.

“so…” he snuck a kiss as you talked, “you love me bin?” he didn’t even mind the smirk in your voice when he gave an “mmhm” against your cheek. before pulling back in shock

“is that okay? you don’t have to say it back.” now the insecurity was setting in but he didn’t care when he was close enough to see every feature of your face.

“too bad, i love you too.”

“no it’s okay-oh. you really do?” he couldn’t have held back his smile even if he tried.

“yes, silly. now maybe we should continue this conversation at home i think people are starting to stare.” the idea that you were the shy one for once because of him made him feel like he was floating. it was more exhilarating to be this freely affectionate than to repress everything like his love was some sort of dark secret. you deserved nothing less than someone that was willing to give you the world and more. you deserved someone who told you every day how lucky they were to have you and he felt confident in becoming a man that was deserving of you.

he squeezed your cheeks together with one hand and leaned down to press a hard kiss against your face, chuckling when you yelped before slinging his arm over you. grinning as you both walked with purpose back to the car.

“you might actually get sick of me now you know.”

you rolled your eyes at him playfully, “not happening, w-”

“yes ma’am!” he cut you off, his heart racing in his newfound freedom. now he could slowly start to love you like he wanted and there's nothing you could do about it.

[meadowfics]

your lost & found fic had an emotional impact on me omg. istg fav fic on this app ily for writing it 🫶🏼🫶🏼

anyways hi sorry about that LMAO it had to be said!! could you pretty please write myung-gi x reader headcanons in a rs with him? thank you so so so much!

myunggi / MG COIN / player 333 as your boyfriend headcannons:

myunggi x f!reader

authors note: thank you so much anon you're so kind <3

at first, you resented myunggi for getting you involved in his world of crypto scams and failed investments.

you never wanted to be a part of that mess, but you got dragged in, and now, just like him, you're drowning in debt.

for a long time, you blamed him, convinced that he was just another greedy scammer who didn’t care who he hurt.

then, you realized that myunggi never meant for any of this to happen.

he was trying to make something of himself, trying to build a future, and everything spiraled out of control before he could stop it.

myunggi is hated by many, and he knows it.

you see the way people look at him, the disgust in their eyes when they recognize his face from his old bitcoin youtube channel.

when he's with you, it’s different. with you, he softens.

he shields you from the world, from the consequences of his past, even though you’re already tangled up in them.

he treats you like you’re the most important person in his life, maybe because you are.

no one else stuck around, no one else believed in him.

you did, even when you hated him.

myunggi? he would do anything to keep you.

he’s fiercely protective of you, sometimes to a suffocating degree. if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, he’s ready to step in, his voice low and dangerous, daring them to say something.

if anyone ever brings up his past in front of you, trying to use it as a weapon, he shuts it down immediately.

he refuses to let anyone taint you with his mistakes.

myunggi can be manipulative, though.

he’s good with words, knows exactly how to twist things just enough to make you see things his way.

when you get upset about something, he has a way of turning it around, making you question if you were ever right to be mad in the first place.

it’s not malicious, at least not entirely.

sometimes, he just doesn’t want you to leave.

he can’t handle the thought of losing you like he lost everything else.

he’s loyal, though. painfully, desperately loyal.

even in the worst moments, when you’re arguing, when you feel like you can’t take another second of this life with him, he refuses to let go.

he reminds you, again and again, that he’s not going anywhere.

you’re the only thing keeping him together.

he shows love in quiet, subtle ways.

he always makes sure you eat, even when he doesn’t.

he always walks on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street.

he holds your hand under tables when he feels anxious, squeezing it like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

he’s a mess, and so are you, but somehow, you make it work.

masterlist

[reomikagekin]

till, sua and mizi (separate) having ai hoshino like s/o headcanons? feel free to ignore it if you don't know ai hoshino

Till x Ai-like!Reader

• Till is drawn to your bright and cheerful persona, though he's always had a sense that something about it is… off. He notices the subtle hesitations, the occasional coldness in your eyes when you think no one is watching.

• He’s naturally timid and sensitive, so he doesn’t push you to be honest with him. But when you do let your real self show—your impulsive, reckless tendencies—he doesn’t recoil. Instead, he sketches you more often, as if trying to understand the real you through his art.

• He secretly admires your ability to act so perfectly. Unlike you, Till wears his emotions on his sleeve, his nervousness and fears obvious to anyone who looks. You, on the other hand, can smile through anything. It terrifies him a little.

• If you ever drop the mask completely, acting more asocial or distant, he won't comment on it, but his actions speak louder than words. He'll silently sit closer, offer you his sketchbook, and try to create a space where you don't have to pretend.

---

Sua x Ai-like!Reader

• Sua is probably the least affected by your outward persona. She’s distant, elusive, and doesn't interact much with others—so she doesn’t put much weight into your cheerful act. If anything, she finds it amusing to watch you fool others.

• She likes bold and unexpected behavior, so when you drop the cutesy act and show your true impulsiveness, she meets it head-on with her own unpredictability. You’re reckless? She’s even worse. You do something unexpected? She does something even crazier. It’s a constant back-and-forth that makes others nervous.

• Unlike most, Sua doesn’t pity you when she realizes your upbringing was terrible. She just accepts it. She won’t sugarcoat things or try to comfort you in a conventional way, but she’ll prove that she sees the real you and still sticks around.

•If anyone tries to call you fake, she shuts them down immediately. It’s not their business what kind of mask you wear. She understands better than anyone that sometimes, people just have to play a role to survive.

---

Mizi x Ai-like!Reader

• Mizi, being naturally outgoing and honest, is completely fooled by your bright and cheerful personality at first. She genuinely believes it’s who you are—until small inconsistencies start adding up.

• She wants to believe in the best of people, so when she starts realizing your act isn’t the full picture, it unsettles her. But she doesn’t get angry or upset—she just gets sad. Why do you feel like you have to lie all the time?

• Because Mizi struggles to hide her emotions, her concern for you is obvious. She won’t directly call you out on it, but she’ll start sticking by your side more, offering comfort in her own way.

• If you ever admit to her that you don’t even know what “real love” feels like, she would tear up. She wants you to know that even if your past was awful, even if you feel detached from real emotions, she’s here, and she’ll keep loving you no matter what.

• Her determination to bring out the real you is unshakable. She doesn't care if you’re disorderly, reckless, or clumsy—she just wants you to feel safe enough to be yourself around her.

[reidcutensshotch]

Skin S.R

Summary, Garica helps Spencer see there’s more than JJ he didn’t realize how much you cared for him because he’s been shutting everything out besides the future with him an JJ it was hard for him to see you even though you been there for him too .

Fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Content: comfort/hurt

Content warnings: heartache , pinning for Spencer at the wrong time or is it at the wrong time , hurt comfort reader try’s to pull away vulnerability, unspoken truths , 

Word count 1k

Author notes: first fic on this account please be gentle please thank you . This song hits different for me . It fits him too .

Dividers : @saradika-graphics & @enchanthings-a

I wish you knew that even you . Can't get under my skin If I don't let you in.

Spencer sat at his desk, a pile of case files scattered across the surface. His mind, however, was not on the case. His thoughts lingered on her—the constant ache in his chest whenever JJ’s name came up. JJ. She was always there, bright and kind, and yet, Spencer couldn't seem to let go of the idea of being with her.

He knew, deep down, that he should move on. But it was hard. It always was with JJ. She had this way of being everything he needed, and at the same time, someone just out of reach. He had tried. He tried to convince himself that maybe there was a chance, that somehow, she'd see him the way he saw her. But he always came back to this: a cycle of hope, disappointment, and self-doubt.

Maybe it was the quiet comfort of her presence, the way JJ was there when the world seemed too much. And maybe that’s what kept him stuck. He couldn't help it, could he?

“Spence?” A voice broke through his thoughts. It was Garcia, walking into the bullpen with her usual cheerfulness.

“Hey, Garcia.” He forced a smile, trying to mask the heaviness he felt. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore, but he also knew Garcia could read him like a book.

“You’re still daydreaming a life with JJ, aren’t you?” she asked with a soft sigh.

Spencer rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know how to stop.”

I mean she told me she loved me …

Garcia leaned against the desk, crossing her arms. “Spence… you’ve been holding onto this for way too long. I get it, you love her. But sometimes, you’ve got to face the truth. Maybe it’s not meant to be, and that’s okay. You can’t keep living in this dream world where things turn out the way you want them to.”

He stared down at the case file, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was just too afraid to let go.

“Have you ever thought about...maybe...there’s someone else?” Garcia said softly.

Spencer blinked, glancing up at her with furrowed brows. "Someone else?"

Garcia's eyes flickered toward you—sitting at your desk, buried in paperwork but with a subtle softness about you, a quiet understanding that Spencer couldn’t deny.

You had always been there. The quiet, kind person who listened when he needed it most. You didn’t push him to talk, but when you did speak, it always had a way of making him feel seen. And yet, he’d never once allowed himself to see you in that way. Not like that.

Why hadn’t he noticed before? He caught his breath, feeling a strange pang in his chest.

Garcia’s voice brought him back to the present. “You know, not everything has to be so complicated, Spence. Sometimes, we overlook the people who are right in front of us, just because we’re too wrapped up in the idea of what could be. Maybe you should stop looking at what you think you want, and look at what’s really there.”

Spencer swallowed hard, her words lingering in his mind. Had he been so focused on the idea of JJ that he failed to see what was standing right in front of him?

He glanced at you again. This time, his gaze didn’t just linger—it searched for something. And as his eyes studied the way you worked so quietly, so effortlessly, there was a growing realization that maybe, just maybe, you were everything he needed.

But it was a thought he hadn’t allowed himself to entertain until now. How could he have been so blind?

A tight knot formed in his throat. Why didn’t I see it sooner?

You looked up then, your eyes catching his, and there was a softness in your gaze, like you knew exactly what was going on in his mind. Spencer quickly looked away, ashamed of himself.

How many times had you been there for him? How many times had you listened? And yet, he never once thought to see you like that.

Garcia’s voice was gentle as she spoke, snapping him out of his thoughts. “You deserve to be happy, Spence. But you can’t keep holding onto someone who doesn’t feel the same way. You deserve someone who sees you, who values you the way you’ve always wanted.”

He nodded, though the words seemed so much harder to grasp than they should have been. Maybe Garcia was right. Maybe he didn’t need JJ. Maybe what he needed was to stop looking so hard at the past and start seeing what was in front of him.

Spencer stood frozen, the words you had said to him swirling in his mind like a storm. He felt an overwhelming guilt, the kind that twisted his chest and made it hard to breathe. You had always been there, quietly supporting him, but he hadn’t been able to see it—he hadn’t been able to see you.

You watched him, your heart aching with the weight of everything left unspoken. The room felt suffocating, and the silence between you both was like a wall you didn’t know how to climb. You knew Spencer had been holding onto the idea of him and JJ for so long, and you understood it. You really did. But what hurt was the realization that, despite all this time, he hadn’t seen you the way you had hoped.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. This isn’t about you, you told yourself. You have to let him go. But it wasn’t easy. Nothing was ever easy when it came to Spencer Reid.

“Spence,” you started, your voice quieter than usual, “I know you’ve been holding onto this idea of you and JJ for a long time. I get it.” You felt the words hit you harder than you expected. The truth stung. “If you’re not ready to move on, I understand. But I’ve been here, in front of you, the whole time.”

You could feel your hands trembling slightly, a quiet sign of the nervousness and pain that was trying to break through. You clenched them together, trying to hold it in.

"Maybe I should take my own advice," you continued, letting out a shaky sigh. "Maybe I need to stop making up illusions in my head about us." You forced yourself to look away, not able to meet his eyes as your heart pounded in your chest. "It’s not healthy," you added, a weak laugh escaping you as you wiped your hand across your face, trying to keep it together.

You took another step back, your throat tight, but you knew this was the only way. “I know I’m not JJ. I know I’m just me.”

Spencer’s chest tightened, his heart beating louder in his ears as he watched you pull away. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, frozen in place, guilt flooding him. He had been so consumed by his feelings for JJ, but now, looking at you—really seeing you—he realized the distance between you two had been of his own making.

But then, as you turned to walk away, he felt a sudden panic grip him. His legs moved before his mind could catch up, and in a moment, he reached out, grabbing your arm gently to stop you from leaving. His touch was tentative, unsure, but there was something desperate in it too. Something that screamed he didn’t want to let you walk away, not without a chance to explain himself.

You froze, your heart racing, and the knot in your chest tightened. This is it, you thought. He’s going to tell me to go.

But when Spencer spoke, his voice was low and filled with a quiet remorse. “Please... don’t walk away.”

His words were almost lost in the heavy silence between you. He hadn’t realized it until this moment, but now, standing in front of you, he saw everything he had overlooked—how you’d always been there for him. How he had pushed you away, blind to what was right in front of him. The realization hit him like a freight train.

“I didn’t know how to... I didn’t know how to move on from the idea of JJ,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “I thought if I held onto that, maybe I wouldn’t feel this... this emptiness.” His eyes locked onto yours, his expression vulnerable and raw. “But now I see... I see that I’ve been holding onto the wrong things.”

You turned to face him, your eyes brimming with emotion, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. It was as if time had paused, and everything that had been left unsaid was hanging between you.

Finally, you spoke, your voice barely audible but filled with quiet strength. “Spence, I’m not asking for anything. I just wanted you to see me—really see me.” You took a deep breath. “I’m here, Spence. But if you can’t—if you’re not ready—then I have to step back.”

The words felt like they came from somewhere deep inside you, a place you hadn’t wanted to reach. But it was the only way to give him space, to give him the room to make his own decisions.

You took another step back, and Spencer felt something inside him crumble. He could hear the gentle hum of Garcia’s voice from across the room, watching from a distance, but it felt distant—almost irrelevant now. All he could think about was you.

Before you could move further, Spencer spoke again, his voice trembling. “I don’t want you to step back,” he said, more forcefully now, as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. “I... I’ve been so focused on the wrong things, and I’m sorry for that. I’ve been blind to what’s been right in front of me.”

Your chest tightened at his words, but there was a flicker of hope inside you. Maybe there’s something here. Maybe you had been wrong to think you’d need to give up on him entirely.

“Spence,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you met his gaze, “you don’t have to apologize. I’m just... I’m here. You don’t have to be alone in this.”

His hand reached out slowly, almost uncertain, but this time, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you let him take your hand, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the midst of the uncertainty. Spencer’s eyes were searching yours, his own feelings written plainly on his face. He didn’t know where this was going, but he was willing to find out. For the first time, Spencer felt like he wasn’t running from his own heart.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, softer now, but with more conviction. “And thank you... for being here.”

[navybrat817]

The urge to interact online while simultaneously not wanting to interact out of fear of being annoying or because you feel like you don't belong. 😂😭

[gingermintpepper]

As usual I read your tags always and so you said Apollo did not ask for resurrection of Asclepius and Hyacinthus so i just wanted to share this. About Asclepius death I read it on theoi.com, that earlier authors don't make him resurrect as a god but that's a later development mentioned only by Roman authors like Cicero, Hyginus and Ovid. But still Apollo has a role in Ovid's version

Ovid, Fasti 6. 735 ff (trans.Boyle) (Roman poetry C1st B.C. to C1st A.D.) : Clymenus [Haides] and Clotho resent the threads of life respun and death's royal rights diminished. Jove [Zeus] feared the precedent and aimed his thunderbolt at the man who employed excessive art. Phoebus [Apollon], you whined. He is a god; smile at your father, who, for your sake, undoes his prohibitions [i.e. when he obtains immortality for Asklepios].

So here it is actually because of Apollo the decision was taken to resurrect him as god. And with Hyacinthus, I don't think I've read about Artemis playing the primary role. I know in Sparta there was a picture of Artemis, Athena and Aphrodite carrying Hyacinthus and his sister to heaven.

This is not on theoi.com but I saw on Tumblr it's from Dionysiaca by Nonnus

Second, my lord Oiagros wove a winding lay, as the father of Orpheus who has the Muse his boon companion. Only a couple of verses he sang, a ditty of Phoibos, clearspoken in few words after some Amyclaian style: Apollo brought to life again his longhaired Hyacinthos: Staphylos will be made to live for aye by Dionysos.

So since he is singing inspired by amyclean stories it probably means in that place it was believed Apollo was the one to bring back his lover to life.

Apollo as god of order was very important so i think it shows how special these people (and admetus too) were to him that he decided to go against the order for them 🥺

ANON!! Shakes you like a bottle of ramune!! BELOVED ANON!!!!! I'm littering your face with kisses, I'm anointing you with olive oil and honey - you absolutely made my night with this because, not only did I get the pure serotonin shot of having someone interact with my tags (yippee, wahoo!!) I also got to have that wonderful feeling of "oh wow, have I misunderstood something that was integral to my understanding of this myth/figure this whole time or is this a case of interpretational differences?" which is imo vital for my aims and interests as someone who enjoys mythological content and literature.

I'll preface my response with this: Hyacinthus is by far the hardest of these to get accounts for because his revival itself, as you very astutely point out, is generally accounted for in painting/ritual format which muddies the waters on who interceded for what. I wasn't actually familiar with that passage from the Argonautica - and certainly didn't remember it so thank you very much for bringing it to my attention!

That said, what I've come to understand, both about Hyacinthus and about Asclepius is that in the accounts of their deaths, Apollo's position is startlingly clear.

For Hyacinthus, it is established time and again that Apollo would have sacrificed everything for him - his status, his power, his very own immortality and divinity. Ovid writes that Apollo would have installed him as a god if only he had the time:

(Ovid. Metamorphoses. Book X. trans. Johnston)

Many other writers too speak of how Apollo abandoned his lyre and his seat at Delphi to spend his days with Hyacinthus, but they also all agree that when it came to his death - he was powerless. Ovid gives that graphic account of Apollo's desperation as he tries all his healing arts to save him to no avail:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book X. Apollo me boy, methinks him dead. trans Johnston)

Bion, in one of his fragments, writes that Apollo was "dumb" upon seeing Hyacinthus' agony:

(Bion, The Bucolic Poets. Fragment XI. trans Edmonds)

Even Nonnus in the Dionysiaca speaks constantly of Apollo's helplessness in the face of Hyacinthus' fate where he writes that the god still shivers if a westward wind blows upon an iris:

and when Zephyros breathed through the flowery garden, Apollo turned a quick eye upon his young darling, his yearning never satisfied; if he saw the plant beaten by the breezes, he remembered the quoit, and trembled for fear the wind, so jealous once about the boy, might hate him even in a leaf...

(Nonnus, Dionysiaca, Book 3. trans Rouse)

And the point here is just that - Apollo, at least as far as I've read, cannot avert someone's death. He simply can't. Once they're already dead - once Fate has cut their string - all Apollo's power is gone and he can do nothing no matter how much he wants to. And this is, as far as I know, supported with the accounts of Asclepius as well!

Since you specifically brought up Ovid's account, I'll also stick only to Ovid's account but in Metamorphoses when we get Ovid's version of Coronis' demise, he writes that Apollo intensely and immediately regrets slaughtering Coronis. He regrets it so intensely that he, like he does with Hyacinthus, does his best to resuscitate her:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo's regret)

And like Hyacinthus, when it becomes clear that what has happened cannot be undone, Apollo wails:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo wept.)

Unlike his mother, Asclepius in her womb had not yet died and so, with the last of Apollo's strength, he does manage, at least, to save him.

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo puts the 'tearing out' in Asclepius.)

But it goes further than even that because Ocyrhoe, Chiron's daughter, a prophetess who unduly gained the ability to directly proclaim the secrets of the Fates, upon seeing the baby Asclepius, immediately prophesies his glory, his inevitable death and then his fated ascension:

(Ovid. Metamorphoses, Book Two. Ocyrhoe's prophecy. trans Johnston)

Before she too succumbs to her hubris and is transformed by the Fates into a horse so she can no longer speak secrets that aren't hers to share.

These things ultimately are important because it establishes two very important things: 1) Apollo can't do anything in the face of the ultimate Fate of mortals, which is, of course, death and 2) even when Apollo is Actively Devastated, regretful, yearning, mournful, guilty or some unholy combination of all of the above, when someone is dead, he accepts that they are gone. Even if he is devastated by it, even if he'll cry all the rest of his days about it - if they're dead? Apollo lets them go. In Fasti, when Zeus brings Asclepius back, he does not say Apollo asked him to - Zeus, or well, in this case Jove, brings Asclepius back because he wants Apollo to stop being mad at him.

(Ovid, Fasti VI. Apollo please come home your father misses you. trans. A.S Kline)

Even Boyle's translation which you used above in your findings hints that Zeus made Asclepius a god because he wanted Apollo to stop grieving. (i.e 'smile at your father', 'for your sake [he] undoes his prohibitions')

And like, Apollo was deeply upset by Asclepius' death - apart from killing the Cyclops in anger, in book 4 of the Argonautica, Apollonius writes that the Celts believe the stream of Eridanus to be the tears Apollo shed over the death of Asclepius when he left for Hyperborea after being chastised by Zeus for killing his Cyclops:

But the Celts have attached this story to them, that these are the tears of Leto's son, Apollo, that are borne along by the eddies, the countless tears that he shed aforetime when he came to the sacred race of the Hyperboreans and left shining heaven at the chiding of his father, being in wrath concerning his son whom divine Coronis bare in bright Lacereia at the mouth of Amyrus.

It all paints a very clear picture to me. Apollo did not ask for either of them to be brought back. Though bringing them back certainly pleased and delighted him, they are actions of other gods who are moved by Apollo's grief and mourning and seek to mollify him. Him not asking doesn't mean he didn't want them back which I think is a very important distinction by the by, but it simply means that Apollo knows the natural order of things and, even if it hurts, he isn't going to press his luck about it.

Which, of course, brings us to Admetus. And I'm really not going to overcomplicate this, Admetus is different because, very vitally, Admetus is not dead. Apollo can't do a thing once Fate has been carried out and Death has claimed a mortal but you know what he absolutely can do? Bargain like hell with the Fates before that point of inevitability. And that's what he does, ultimately for Admetus and Alcestis. He sought to prolong Admetus' life, not revive him from death or absolve him from death altogether and even after getting the Fates drunk, he's still only able to organise a sacrifice - a life for a life - something completely contingent on whether some other mortal would be willing to die in Admetus' place and not at all controllable by Apollo's own power.

All of these things, I think come back to that point you made - that Apollo's place as a god of order is very important and therefore these people are very special to him if it means he's willing to go against that order but, I also wish to challenge that opinion if you'd let me. Apollo's place as a god of order is very important and therefore, I would argue, that it is even more important that it is shown that he does not break the divine order, especially for the people that mean the most to him. The original context of my comments which started this conversation were on this lovely, lovely post by @hyacinthusmemorial which contemplated upon Asclepius from the perspective of an Emergency Medical personnel and included, in their tags, the very poignant lines "there's something about Apollo letting go when Asclepius couldn't that eats my heart away" and "you do what you can, you do your best, but you don't ever reach too far" and I think that's perfectly embodied with the Apollo-Asclepius dichotomy. Apollo grieves. He wails, he cries, he does his best each and every time to save that which is precious to him but he does not curse their nature, he does not resent that they are human and ultimately, he accepts that that which is mortal must inevitably die. There is nothing that so saliently proves that those who uphold rules are also their most staunch followers - if Apollo wants to delight in his place as Fate's mouthpiece, he cannot undo Fate. And, if even the god of healing and order himself cannot undo death, what right does Asclepius, mortal as he is, talented as he is, have to disrespect it?

The beauty of these stories isn't that Apollo loved them enough to bring them back. The beauty is that Apollo loved them enough to let them go.