#but right now i'm going to pretend everything will be fine

[delespresso]

HONEY TRAP ━━ Jay Halstead x Fem!reader

author's note; finally done with my presentations yippee! can go back to my requests now hehe, also this was kinda short?? idk, i hope its okay!

prompts; Jay Halstead with Hozier "I'll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife"

summary; in which jay's undercover and she's told him everything

━━ ☄. *. ⋆

It’s been a month since Jay was sent undercover. Something that was supposed to only last for a week ended up being extended far longer than they’d expected— and there was yet to be an end date in sight. But he’d adapted, he always did.

They knew him as Ryan, the expert in bitcoins and such. The organisation Intelligence had been gunning for was planning a pretty big heist and they needed someone who knew their way around it.

Jay himself was no expert. But he was good at bullshitting. And he learned a thing or two from Mouse to equip his undercover work.

What he never expected was the mob boss’ daughter taking over the heist planning. She became the mastermind, using him for her plans and unknowingly leaking everything to the Chicago police.

Mainly because he ends up in her bed every other night that he's been undercover. It was supposed to be a job — a simple honey trap so they could bust the crew.

But God, she was everything he could ever dream of. But she was the very thing he couldn't have if he wanted to keep his job.

“Your mind's in the clouds again.”

He was brought right back to reality when her sweet voice spoke so quietly. She was right there, on top of him, in nothing but his shirt as she pressed fleeting kisses on his collarbone.

The slightest smile pulled on his lips as he looked down at her, his fingers running through her tousled hair — his very own handiwork.

“Just thinking ‘bout tomorrow,” he muttered, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “You're so sure it's gonna work out.”

She hummed softly, her body molding against his with a soft smile on her face.

“It will. Everything's gonna be fine,” she assured softly.

“And if the cops find out?”

He couldn't tell her. But the cops already knew — Voight had already planned a bust, ready to finally have the crew in cuffs like he'd been planning for months.

All because Jay had told him everything she tells him.

“They won't. I told you everything, just go accordingly,” she shrugged.

It felt like a knife was stabbed and twisted in his gut when she said so surely. She did tell him everything — and he told his team. Because it was his job.

He cupped her face in his hands, making her look at him with a raised brow. For a moment he was just silent, his eyes tracing her sweet features. If only she wasn't the mobster's daughter. If only she wasn't a part of it herself.

He pulled her in, their lips meeting in a languid kiss. Because God knows it might be the last.

He rolled them over so she was on her back, not once releasing her from their kiss. And even this was all he could have of her — he'd make it worthwhile.

By the next afternoon, everything blew to pieces. The crew was getting ready to get the heist done. The other guys were in a separate van, pretending to be technicians coming to fix things.

She was in the passenger seat of another car with Jay driving. He knows Intelligence would be there, busting the whole heist soon. And he made a decision he knew could possibly cost him.

He took a different turn, going the opposite direction of the building they were heading for.

Her head shot up, realising he was diverting.

“Ryan,” she looked at him with raised brows.

“The cops are gonna bust your ass if we go there right now. You need to leave,” he said firmly.

She stared at him in confusion and bewilderment.

“I told you the plan, it's foolproof—”

“You told me the plan and I told my boss.”

She paused at his interruption. He was still driving, focused on the road but he was tense beyond words. Her sudden silence made his heart race faster.

“I'm a cop. I've been undercover for the past month,” he finally spoke again, confirming her silent thoughts.

Then he felt it — the knife against his neck. The cool metal was pressing against his skin and he cursed under his breath.

“I trusted you—”

“I lied. I know. You kill me now, we're gonna crash. Do you want that?” he retorted.

She seemed to consider it. But she didn't move the knife even as he kept driving.

“And how do I know you're not leading me right to them?” she asked.

This time he was the one who went silent. For a moment there, he couldn't say a word. Because really; how can he prove it to her that he won't?

“Because you know how I feel about you. I lied about everything but never that,” he confessed softly, daring a glance at her as he drove.

Then he looked back forward, the cool metal of the blade still glaringly obvious against his skin. She hesitated, considering her options. All their nights together — it wasn't just sex. It became something much more than that.

Slowly, she pulled her knife away. But she didn't keep it.

“Airstrip,” was all she said.

Because now there was no way she could stay in Chicago. So she'd have to disappear. But not without a lingering kiss goodbye — despite the betrayal she felt.

Jay made up an excuse for Voight. Something about her changing her mind and ditching the crew last minute. Intelligence managed to cuff the crew though, all except her. The mastermind.

And something in his gut told him they'd see more of her eventually

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[galaxythreads]

when you need help with something and then someone actually helps you 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

haven't had to make one of these for a while...

um okay anyways i'm not doing too hot mentally today!! so i'm gonna take a break for tonight and ask that you please send me Foul Legacy asks (or Arlecchino. honestly i'll take anything at this point) because lord knows i sort of need them

[subaru-copilot]

just a reminder to everyone with an uterus to keep track of your PMS

it took me years (like a decade) to realize that my downfall every month was because of it

[izzy-b-hands]

I will be forever grateful i can be on this new med. it's one a lot of folks also need and can struggle to have access to! It's important i be on it, especially if i start doing any vid collabs

(some of which, really, all of which, i unfortunately actually need to cancel that were in the preplanning stages, bc the election results have me wanting to wait and see how the general atmosphere of the country is before i agree to meet up with anyone. I feel bad for cancelling, but also i just can't know for sure how safe things are/might be going forward and I'd rather avoid the potential of. ya know. various not great things that could happen at a meet up, tho i would certainly hope they wouldn't. i don't feel like actually addressing them rn, u guys know what i mean)

That said, if the truvada initial side effects could fuck off asap would be so lovely. three weeks at worst, then they should be gone/much better or so i am told. really hope that's true bc losing my mornings to being dizzy and nauseous is Not Working for me lmao. im on week two, and now understand why my new doc said to call if i needed any 'cheerleading' and support to get thru the side effects, bc apparently she's done that for several ppl to make sure they actually make it thru the three weeks and keep on it (lovely of her!!)

[orion-archives]

I'm tired. Of all of this.

Every fucking day feels like the same, yet it gets heavier. Things get worse, nothing gets better and the few things that gave me security, happiness, where I thought I could escape and be free for some moments, are getting corrupted, forgotten, stained forever, never to be the same refuge they once were.

I'm tired of living sometimes. Of existing on this world.

I know how dying feels; it's calming, the darkness eats you and you feel without worries for the first time in your existance. You know it and that frees you.

But I don't want to die. I'm a coward. I want to continue living on this earth just because I think I can do something in the future, something that will fix everything, something that will give a purporse to everything I've done and lived through.

But we all know that is just a lie to make us feel better, don't we?

Because, at the end of all, do we really matter? What can assure us that?

I'm tired. Too tired.

I want to go somewhere else, but there is nowhere to escape. I want to say that I want to go home, go to the park, go to a forest and be happy. But this is something that will haunt me, haunt me forever and everywhere until the end.

Because you can't escape yourself.

I'm tired...

[eyes-above--the-waves]

Honestly, people who use national holidays to virtue signal on social media annoy the fuck out of me. Yes, people did terrible shit to Indigenous people. Yes, we still have a lot of work to do. Yes, it's okay to acknowledge that we certainly don't live in a perfect country. But, we live here, and it's far, FAR better than some of the alternatives.

I'm not some 'gung-ho, rah-rah, Canada is the best' type of gal, but I do love living here. I know I'm fortunate to live here. And I'm not gonna spend today making people feel bad for celebrating that. If you don't want to acknowledge the day, that's fine. But, stop with the passive aggressive 'friendly reminder' virtue signalling to try and make yourself sound more evolved than everyone else. You're not more evolved, you're just an annoying asshole. Feel free to move.

[letbuckfuck]

.

[terryfuckingturniptruck]

Everything is so hard right now.

[kenzan-kiwami]

2 weeks into my new job and it's already driving me absolutely stir crazy but my adachi jacket arrived today and everything is alright (for the moment)

[goyurim]

they say that it gets better when you get to your thirties. science teachers in school said 'it's when your amygdala matures'. and that made sense to me. so i always looked forward to it. 16 y/o me with crippling anxiety couldn't wait to be older, couldn't wait to have her brain fix itself one day and her heart sing to her songs of praise and love. but after almost a decade, every morning i wake up and my heart still screams in fear. 'you're in control' i tell myself. 'these behaviours are learnt, you can unlearn them'. but another voice says 'what if... what if you can't?'

in the neuroscience of memories there's a process called long-term potentiation. basically, when you're constantly exposed to something, your neurons become strengthened. their efficiency increases and they fire faster, and more in sync. learning something over and over is literally like going to the gym and bulking up your brain muscles. but brain biceps don't care whether you're eating oily junk or healthy proteins. as long as you're eating enough of it, they show up, and they're here to stay. it's how you get an anxiety disorder. fear enough things, and fear them for long enough - voila, you've got yourself a nice set of buff, durable, anxiety brain biceps

until you turn thirty your brain is still developing so you have time to feed it the right foods to build the right kinda muscles. but i'm closer than ever to my thirties and i'm beginning to feel like i won't be able to sort my personality out before it gets set in stone. i wasn't always like this. i'm sure there was a time when i was carefree, funny, lively, and brave. and there were moments back then too that i felt sparks of fear. but they were small, invisible flames percolating into my mind. i don't remember when they became an inferno. i'm scared that my mind is turning into a mausoleum. there's nothing to decorate it with apart from relics of regret

[buckynats]

.

[lesbianpikachu]

.

[nochepsicodelica]

Bear boyfriend Toji who dreads getting sick more than the average person. He gets so grumpy during this little stunt in his health because he can't do much besides manage his harsh cough and runny nose, rest in bed and eat, but that's not even what he's most upset about. He's so pissed off that he can't be around you, unless he wants to get you sick too.

Oh, but you make it so hard on him. Walking into the room with a mug of tea with that smile that could nurse anyone back to health. You linger for longer than you should, even after he told you that if you're in there for too long, you'll get sick too. It's an annoying dilemma because on one end, watching you be sick is one of the most heart wrenching things he's ever seen. Like him, you pretend that you're fine, when really you feel so debilitated by the virus that invaded your immune system. You tell him you feel better, but your hearing is muffled and your voice is gravelly and doesn't seem to be recovering quickly. Toji sees right through it and his protective instincts kick in. He insists on doing everything necessary to get you back up and running. On the other end, he wants to see you and kiss you and just hold onto you through this horrible time he's having. He hasn't kissed you in almost three days. It really sucks that he's sick, but it's entirely unfair that you can't be near him. There is truly so much for him to be reasonably grumpy about.

"Hey, you're gonna get wrinkles on your handsome face," you say, smoothing down the crease between his eyebrows with your thumb. "Do you really want me out of here that bad?"

He sighs. Your cool hands are heaven on his burning skin. "You know I don't, ma," he croaks out, pulling your hand down from his face and holding it. "I want you here, but you can't stay."

"Baby, you lost your pretty color. You look like a zombie, but also, it's killing me to only be allowed to check on you once every hour. I think it's time I come sleep in here, again."

"No," he protests, while shaking his head. He wishes he had rethought the gesture once he's steady again. He feels like he shook his brain and his head hurts, now.

"Toji, i'm taking care of you. I'm sleeping in our bed, tonight. I'm more worried about you than I am about getting sick."

He wants to laugh at how you sound like a mother scolding her child, but he knows it'll throw him into a nasty coughing fit. He can't argue with you too much in this state. He doesn't want to argue anyway. You care and it feels nice.

"If I get sick, I get sick," you say, settling down next to him, on your side of the bed.

Toji has never been one to pull the 'woe is me' card, but when you're smothering him with so much affection and cooing at him while caressing his uncomfortably warm face, it's hard not to lean into it. You relieve his discomfort with your methods of care. Be it medicinal remedies or your extra love and affection, even your patience. You weren't the one who proposed keeping distance from him. You didn't want to sleep on the couch those last couple nights, but you did it for the sake of letting Toji be comfortable. He's your lover and you don't see a reason to avoid him, like what he has is something more fatal. His contagiousness is disregarded, because it doesn't matter.

You know he would do the same for you so you don't wrinkle your nose when he starts feeling safe enough to nuzzle into you and sluggishly kiss you, while clinging onto you. He's extra clingy, too. Your body is a lot cooler than his, so it feels nice when he rests his cheek on your chest or when his hot, clammy hands go to your arms. You don't turn away or block your face when he coughs. You rub menthol onto his reddened chest and neck, and watch as he grins dumbly when his nose clears up for a little. When he falls asleep, you stay with him, even if he doesn't wake up for the next five hours. You watch over him and only get up to grab things that are necessary, like his medicine, some water, and a damp towel to wipe the sweat off his forehead and neck.

He takes on the role of the little spoon when you take care of him. Being pampered by you makes him feel small in all the best ways. He feels protected, like you're his guardian. It's really as if the only remedy he needs is you. The expanse of your love for him is unquantifiable, but when you wrap your smaller arms around him and press featherlight kisses onto his skin, it's like a force field that blankets him.

[cupcakesmoothie]

Nothing is wrong. Nothing's wrong and I'm crying

Nothing's wrong and everything is too loud

Nothing's wrong and I'm just dramatic.

I'm just selfish and ungrateful and rude and stubborn

Nothing is wrong but me

[ellecdc]

HEAR ME OUT

former fboy barty who is now madly in love with reader and reader is like his first actual serious girlfriend

ARE WE SEEING THE VISION

I'M SEEING THE VISION HERE YOU GO; also, it's a continuation of this post but can be read as a standalone

Barty Crouch Jr x fem!reader who doesn't do 'casual' [1k words]

CW: brief mention of past harassment, mention of past sexual encounter but nothing explicit and SFW

Barty said goodbye to Evan in way of putting his hand against his mouth to get him to stop talking and then shoving his face away from him as he started taking purposeful strides for you. 

He’d only opted to come to class today in hopes of seeing you, and he’d only deigned to hang around afterwards so that he could talk to you after you finished speaking with the Professor.

Barty had been struggling to get you out of his mind for over a week now ever since you approached him in the club asking him to pretend to be your boyfriend, which ended in a very enjoyable romp afterwards.

And he’d be lying if he wasn’t hoping for another tryst as he pulled the door open for you before you’d even had a chance to push it; a look of wary surprise crossing your face before it melted into a smile.

That smile made him feel funny. 

“Well hello, my darling girlfriend.” He teased as he fell into step with you. 

“Hello, Barty.” You chuckled as you gently nudged him with your elbow. “Alright?”

“Fantastic, thank you. I’ve been thinking about the fun we had the other night.” He said as he moved to stand in front of you, smiling in that way of his that he knew usually got him what he wanted.

You simply smirked knowingly and raised an eyebrow at him. “What? Fleeing from a bar without paying your tab?”

Barty scoffed and waved you off. “My dad owns that bar, it’s fine. No, I meant what happened afterwards.”

You hummed in acknowledgment as you scrutinised him. “You mean when I thanked you profusely-”

“-multiple times-” Barty amended, earning him a salacious grin from you.

“-multiple times, for saving me from that creep?”

“Precisely.” Barty agreed with a nod. 

“That was fun.” You admitted, to which Barty quickly agreed. “But I don't think so, Barty. Sorry.”

“Oh… oh! Okay…erm, may I ask why not?” He sputtered as he took two long strides in order to catch up with you as you continued walking across campus. 

“You may.” You relented simply, smirking when you saw Barty roll his eyes from your periphery. 

“Okay…why not?”

“I…listen, I had fun and I don’t regret it, but I don’t usually do…casual.” You admitted, looking embarrassed for all intents and purposes as you stared down at Barty’s shoes and chewed on your lower lip. 

“Casual.” Barty parroted, fighting the urge to relieve your lower lip from its torment and, perhaps disturbingly, afflict it to his own torment. 

“Right, I…I don’t usually do casual sex, that was uhm…that was a one time thing for me.” 

“Oh, so…so, you only have sex when you’re dating someone?” Barty concluded.

“Right.”

“Great. Go on a date with me.” 

You barked a laugh as you continued walking, only to turn and see that Barty wasn’t following nor was he laughing as he was really quite serious.

“Are you-…you’re not serious, are you?”

“Mmm, nope, I’m quite serious, actually.” He responded.

“Barty.” You huffed somewhat chidingly. “I’ve never once seen you speak to the same girl twice. Well, save Meadows, but I’m quite certain she likes girls, so.”

Barty simply shrugged at you, not seeing at all what the issue was here. “There’s a first time for everything, no? I’m standing here talking to you for a second time, am I not?” 

“I’m just…I’m looking for something serious, Barty.”

“I can be serious!” He argued rather petulantly. 

“I’m not going to ask you for something you might not be capable of giving me.” You sighed.

“Are you challenging me? Is this a challenge? Because I’ll have you know I’ve never once lost a bet.”

“I’m not challenging you, Barty.” You laughed affectionately at him. “Monogamy and commitment isn’t your thing, and that’s fine! I’m not judging you or blaming you at all; I just think we might want different things.”

Barty stepped forward so that he was standing but a few inches from you, forcing you to look up at him. “Well, what I want is you.”

“You want me right now.” You whispered back; some of the fight clearly leaving you as you searched between his eyes.

“I’ll prove it. Let me prove it to you.” He insisted, daring to push some of your hair falling from its restraint away from your eyes. 

You sighed somewhat sadly as your bottom lip threatened to jut out. “I’m not worth breaking your rules for, Barty.”

“I think I can decide that for myself, no?” He murmured back.

He had to admit this is the softest he’d ever been with anyone before, but it was also the softest he’d ever felt with anyone before.

He didn’t usually get caught up on people; not like this, not like you. 

But you awoke something inside of him that night when you darted out of the sea of bodies like he was the last life raft of a sinking ship, your eyes wild and desperate as you clung to him.

He was always down for a ruse, so when you’d asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend he was more than happy to cause a little chaos. But when he’d heard you were scared, harassed, bothered? Well, the deep, black, protective rage that had him nearly fusing your body to his was something completely foreign to him.

He wanted more of it.

He wanted you.

And if this is what you needed from him? Well, he’d be that for you. 

“Teach me? I’m a quick learner, rather clever too.” He asked as he tilted your head up by your chin and forced you to look at him. 

“I…I don’t want to be an experiment.”

“I don’t either.” He agreed. “I just want you to be mine.”

You searched his eyes for a few more moments before letting out a dramatic sigh. 

“Fine, but I will be teaching you and there will be a quiz at the end of this so do keep up.” You hollered at him over your shoulder, though your small smile gave away the fact that it was all for show.

“Don’t you worry, treasure; I perform very well on tests.”