#for someone who threatens to turn him into a stew

[ssahotchnerr]

Hello! How are you doing?

I don't have anything extremely specific (sorry, I'm just leaving work and haven't really thought about this).

But if you want to, how about jealous Aaron who has the, very rare, opportunity to go pick up the reader from her job and see her all smiles with another coworker? In this case I was thinking that there might be a age gap between them and the male coworker is more of her age? So a bit of jealous and insecure Hotch?

If you feel comfortable with this of course!

Have a good day 😊

in comparison

cw; fem!reader, age gap, insecure :( and jealous!aaron, some angst, small suggestiveness, fluff <3 wc; 1.2k

You were exiting the building with a few of your colleagues, partaking in what appeared to be an entertaining conversation from Aaron's line of sight. The liveliness on your face was vivid, undoubtedly enjoying whatever the whole of you were collectively discussing.

You looked comfortable, relaxed, happy. You molded into the group well. One of your male colleagues in particular was inching a bit too close, a near awestruck expression on his face as a laugh escaped you. If he took one step to his right, his shoulder would be touching yours. While you were clueless, he was enamored.

Aaron felt his eyes harden involuntarily, a jealous heat swarming through his body; he wanted to march over there and assert his role as yours. However, the feeling wasn't long lasting. A profound sadness climbed up his spine, as he gained a different perspective.

It wasn't that you didn't fit into his life. On the complete contrary: you were the perfect addition.

But something about seeing you with others, with someone closer to your age, was daunting. Intimidating. It sickened him how natural the visual appeared. Reality has smacked him in the face numerous times over the years, he wouldn't be surprised if it happened again. That somehow, someway, you would prefer the latter. The one that had nothing to do with him.

As you walked towards Aaron's car, you glanced back at your coworkers, offering a wave and a smile as they jointly headed to the parking lot. His window was opened a crack, and he heard you call back towards them, "Have fun tonight!"

Aaron exhaled a breath.

"Hey." You chirped as you slid into the passenger seat, leaning over the center console to place a kiss on Aaron's cheek. He was rather stiff as you did so, causing you to lightly scrunch your nose in confusion, pulling away slowly. Something was up.

"Hey," He echoed, greeting you with an almost forced smile. The abruptness of his thoughts had unsettled him deeply - he couldn't shake them. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be." You responded hesitantly, searching his face as you buckled your seatbelt. You added after a moment, happy to be in his company and the emotion overtaking your heart. "I missed you today."

But your words went unnoticed, as he had already reentered the void that was his unwelcome thoughts.

In result the car ride home was silent, Aaron's pout unfaltering. His mind was plagued by the image of your coworker being in his place, driving you home, or the two of you huddled together amongst a night out with friends. It caused an uncomfortable, sad pit in his stomach.

"You missed a turn."

"What?"

Your statement jolted him back to earth. No he didn't... did he? His eyebrows furrowed in a line, reassessing the current surroundings. Nothing out of the ordinary, all familiar street signs. When he confirmed he, in fact, did not miss a turn, he turned to you, only to find a knowing smirk plastered on your face.

His eyebrows quirked softly, obstructing the line drawn above his eyes. "What was that about?"

"To get your mind off whatever you're stewing about."

A smile threatened his lips, due to your witty expression and observation, "I'm not." His tone found a slightly lighter note - amusingly guilty. Anything but convincing.

"Aaron, darling, you're gonna break some teeth if that," Your playful demeanor dropped for a moment, your eyes tracing back and forth, as if you were in a trance. "Jaw of yours tightens anymore."

Your brief distraction eased a notion of his jealousy, he still had that effect on you, thankfully. He readjusted his grip on the steering wheel, his stare forward.

"So what is it?" You asked, "Did you have a bad day?"

He shook his head.

"Bad bout of cases?"

Aaron grimaced, his knuckles letting up only to secure his fingers over the wheel again, "They're always bad."

"Something I did?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but only silence came out. His hesitation caused your face to fall, your shoulders dropping and posture succumbing to the back of your seat.

"No honey, no you didn't do anything." He was quick to reassure, feeling entirely worse. "I can assure you."

Your eyes met his, needing more.

He sighed defeatedly, surprisingly not afraid to bluntly admit, "I'm jealous."

"Jealous?" You froze, but then it clicked. You gestured behind, as if your colleagues were somehow tailing the two of you. "Of...?"

Aaron bit his lip, nodding slowly.

Your expression lightened, a soft and genuine wonder in your eyes, "Why?"

"Are you okay with this?" Confusion arose on your face once more, so he clarified. "This. Us. You signed up for a lot, quickly at that."

Truth be told, the two of you had progressed at a rate neither of you expected, due to the sheer infatuation you possessed for one another. That, too, had been natural.

"I'm divorced, widowed, a father - I come with baggage. My 'going-out' are days long gone. I don't want you missing out."

"Aaron." In a way, you could laugh. It tore your heart into pieces he was thinking this way, doubting himself but he was clueless in an adorably, idiotic way. In summary, he simply never gave himself the credit he deserved. "What could I possibly be missing out on?"

"You could be spending your weekends out, socializing, with people closer in age. And yet, you're..." He came up with an example. "Making pillow forts. These are supposed to be the best years of your life. I'm terribly boring in comparison."

"Hey, I make a mean pillow fort."

He gave you a look.

Your hand grabbed his bicep affectionately, clinging onto it as if you were knocking some sense into him. "I chose this. I chose you. Jack is the addition to my life I never knew I needed. And I don't want to be out galavanting bar to night club to bar. I jump at the opportunity to deny a night out to spend it in. With you. When have you ever seen me wanting to go out and party?"

An expression of distaste flashed across your face at the concept, and Aaron's head tilted to the side as he considered your point.Yeah, that was true.

"I'm a homebody. And if there's anything I've realized over the course of the past months, you're my home. You."

Aaron let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

"I know what I'm in for. And I embrace it with open arms. I want it." Your face was content, even more so than when you were talking with your colleagues. "I love you. And I love the life we're creating. It's so special, beyond my wildest dreams."

"Really?" A boyish, hopeful expression graced his face.

"Really. I wouldn't want it any other way. I can promise you. This- you're everything I could ever want."

Aaron's hand found your thigh, giving it a gentle, loving squeeze. "I love you too, sweetheart."

You beamed in response - you'd never get tired of the words leaving his lips.

"That one guy though," Aaron raised his eyebrows, taking a quick glance at you. Envy began creeping back, "He seemed interested. Wasn't a fan of that."

You scoffed, unbothered. "I'm into men, not boys. Which again, you are the utmost depiction of." Your delightful smirk resurfaced, admirably looking him over. "Believe me, I couldn't be more satisfied."

He wanted to play into your suggestive remarks, but he needed further confirmation. Once more. "You sure?"

"Oh, I'm positive."

Finally satisfied himself, he surrendered, "Okay."

"In fact, I can think of a few ways to show you just how much later."

[dusty-fat-boy]

I didn't get to show you guys any thing at the time due to no access to the internet, but I recived a text from my grandmother once I was in Florida with an update on my boy and I damn near laughed myself to death.

Grandma, on voice note: in this picture, he is wondering if he should eat it or not.

Grandma, sending another picture with a voice note attached: in this one he decided, yes im going to eat this! Tasty!

[seungkwansphd]

contusion confusion

pairing: seungcheol x afab reader word count: 4K synopsis: your clumsy lab partner left a bruise on you. seungcheol seems disproportionately upset by it, but it makes way more sense once you understand why. themes: college au, best friend seungcheol, double sided repressed feelings, possessive and jealous seungcheol. warnings: smut, mentions of bruising/marking, mention of reader being smaller than seungcheol.

a/n: i started this literally one year ago and lost steam. and then blonde.fucking.scoups comes along and truly does a number on me. anyways, bon appetit, LOL

“What the hell happened to you?” Seungcheol’s eyes widened as you stretched your legs across his lap on the sofa.

“What?” you blinked at him, taking your eyes off of the television momentarily.

“What’s this bruise from?” he asked, resisting the strong urge to touch the bluish purple mark just above your elbow.

“Ah, that!” you shrugged, “I almost tripped the other day in lab. Mingyu grabbed me, but he might as well have let me fall! Who knew someone could bruise you just from grabbing you! Like how strong is that dude even?” you rolled your eyes. Grumbling, you returned your attention to the screen.

Seungcheol stewed next to you. While he had no real claim or reason to be upset at your lab partner, every time you brought him up, it made him want to strangle someone.

Mingyu was so tall that you had to readjust the titration burette between replicates. Mingyu was all sweaty because he had come to lab right after the gym. Mingyu didn’t cover his face while sneezing.

Seungcheol eagerly awaited next semester when he wouldn’t have to hear about this man anymore.

Swallowing, your eyes flitted nervously to your best friend’s hands, which were stroking your calves absentmindedly as he watched the show. While just a mindless gesture on his part, you were struggling silently with the way it made your insides turn just slightly into jelly.

“Cheol, that tickles!” you finally pulled your legs away, curling into a ball against the armrest of the sofa.

“Oh, sorry,” he smiled sheepishly at you, seeming distracted. It almost seemed like your friend was sulking, but you couldn’t understand why. You were watching a sitcom!

…

“There you are!”

You looked up to see your lab partner standing over your table, clutching the straps of his backpack.

“Oh, hey Mingyu,” you furrowed your brows at him, “Did you need something?”

“I thought we were supposed to be working on our lab report today?” he cocked his head at you, wondering if he had gotten the time wrong.

“Oh shit!” you cursed, “I’m so sorry Gyu, I totally lost track of time!”

“That’s okay,” he laughed, “It’s not that big of a deal. You want to work on it now?”

“Sure!” you nodded, glancing at Seungcheol and Jeonghan, who were immersed in their computer programming assignments. “Do you mind if Mingyu joins us? We have a lab report.”

“Yes, we heard,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes at you, “Sure that’s fine.”

“Thanks,” Mingyu nods before taking the seat next to you.

“Did you start anything for it yet?” you asked, pulling your lab notebook out of your backpack.

“Whoa, did I really grab you that hard that day?” Mingyu exclaimed, seeing the purple bruise on your arm.

“Yes, it fuckin’ hurts too!” you squinted at him, annoyed.

“I didn’t think you could bruise someone just by grabbing them. I guess I’m just super strong, huh?” Mingyu preened.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you threatened to punch him.

Jeonghan observed Seungcheol’s shift in mood with mild interest as you and Mingyu muddled your way through your lab report.

“I need some coffee or I’m going to rip my eyeballs out,” you announced after calculating mole fractions for far too long. You stood from the table to move towards the cafe in the library. You tapped your fingertips on your wallet mindlessly as you calculated how many shots of espresso you could consume without your heart bursting out of your chest.

“YN!” a familiar voice greeted you as they tapped your shoulder.

“Ah, hey!” you smiled at Bina, your lab partner from last year. “Ugh, I’m working on a lab report and it is giving me flashbacks to last semester!”

“Oh my god, please don’t remind me!” she rolled her eyes. You two had barely managed to scrape through that class. Unlike you, it had been her only chem requirement, so she was free of the horror of lab reports now. “Who’s your lab partner this semester?”

“Mingyu Kim,” you scrunched up your nose slightly, “God bless him, but he is such a klutz.”

“Wait, no. Mingyu? The Kim Mingyu?” Bina paled slightly.

“Why? Do you know him? Is there tea?” you looked at her with wide eyes.

“No, god I wish. He’s just so hot to me! I’m jealous, I would slog through another semester of chem to be his lab partner.”

“Would you?!” you gaped at her, thoroughly alarmed. “You’re sick in the head over this man,” you laughed heartily.

“No, probably not,” Bina chuckled after giving it some more serious consideration. “But I’d think long and hard about it.”

“We’re sitting over there if you wanna stop by and say hi. I’ll introduce y’all,” you offered before placing your order with the cashier.

“I might do that,” she craned her head to see exactly where your table was. “You’re sitting with Seungcheol too? My friend is infatuated with that man. They’re in Comp Sci together. Can she come say hi too?”

“S-sure,” you answered blankly. You had no stake or claim, but something in you wanted to scream ‘NO!’ when you heard Bina ask that question.

“You’re the best, we’ll be over in a bit,” Bina smiled brightly at you, giving you a squeeze.

“Okay, I’m ready to resume crying,” you announced when you returned to the table with your beverage.

“Okay, good, cause I’m ready to take a break from crying,” Mingyu looked up at you pitifully. “I think I figured out 4. So then if we can figure out 5, then we just need to pull together some nonsense for the discussion.”

“Okay, okay,” you nodded determinedly. By some miracle, question 5 was just some simple dilution practice, so before long you and Mingyu were typing furiously, chipping away at the remainder of the lab report.

“Hey YN!” Bina’s voice pulled you out of a sentence about how (DUH) important it was to switch pipettes between samples.

“Oh, hey Bina! What’s up?” you waved excitedly at your friend, eager to do some meddling for her.

“Not much, how are you? Long time no see!”

“Yes, luckily you’re done with your chem requirements, otherwise you’d be here crying with us,” you laughed as Mingyu and Seungcheol looked on at you with interest. Jeonghan had long ago put on a pair of noise canceling headphones and was ignoring everybody. “Mingyu, Bina was my lab partner last semester. And she was a lot better than you are,” you couldn’t help but tease.

“Hey!” Mingyu pouted.

“I mean at the very least she’s my height, so I didn’t have to readjust the biuret every time we titrated,” you rolled your eyes playfully at Bina.

“It’s not my fault you’re both short,” Mingyu protested, eyes flickering to Bina for some support.

“If it makes you feel better, I was terrible in lab too,” she offered up sympathetically, “YN is my patron saint of chemistry. Did she ever tell you about how I exploded two crucibles one time?”

“No!” Mingyu looked at her with interest, “Was YN also very mean to you and made you finish your work way ahead of time?”

“Yes!” Bina giggled excitedly, “Like why can’t we pull all nighters like normal people?”

“Hell no, I’m not disrupting my sleep schedule for y’all. No thanks,” you shook your head stalwartly. “Anyways, you two should exchange numbers so you can complain about me on your own time,” you chuckled. Bina and Mingyu seemed to agree and set about that task enthusiastically.

“Ah, sorry I’m being rude, this is my friend Hayoung! We’re in a writing foundations class together so we were working on that.”

“Hi,” she waved at everyone shyly.

“Hayoung, what’s your major?” you asked.

“Computer science, focusing on human & computer interactions.”

“Ooh?! Love me a girly in STEM! These two are comp sci as well! Do you all know each other?” you asked, mostly Seungcheol as Jeonghan was still intent on ignoring you.

“Maybe? You look kind of familiar, but I don’t talk to many people in class,” he chuckled honestly.

“I think we might have a class together?” Hayoung smiled.

“Oh wonderful! You two should exchange numbers too! Maybe you can work on comp sci stuff together,” you suggested. They weren’t really giving you too much to work with, if you were being honest.

“I’d actually love that,” Hayoung’s eyes creased into a smile, “I don’t know that many people in the major.”

“Is it because they’re being sexist?” your eyes widened and you raised a fist theatrically, “I’ll fight them all for you. Cheol, you will too, right? Jeonghan’s not much use in a fight, if I’m being honest,” you commented quietly, glancing at the target of your teasing.

“Sure,” Seungcheol’s face creased into a real smile as he watched you whisper about Jeonghan animatedly.

Hayoung and Seungcheol exchanged phone numbers as you watched on excitedly. Hayoung was clearly pleased, but Seungcheol was making a face as if he had tasted something odd, but was too polite to say anything about it.

“Bina is so cute!” Mingyu remarked happily after they both left, “Lucky you with your cute lab partners!”

“Yeah,” you rolled your eyes at him, “I love doing unpaid babysitting in the lab.”

…

“Cheol, can I crash on your couch?” you spoke after he picked up your call.

“Yeah, of course! Are you okay?” Seungcheol’s brow furrowed, worried.

“Yeah, I’ve just been sexiled,” you grumbled, starting your walk towards Seungcheol’s apartment. He met you about halfway and the two of you caught up on the walk back.

“How are things with Hayoung?” you asked, not quite making eye contact.

“What?” his hand slipped as he was moving to turn the doorknob.

“Hayoung, did you guys ever meet up to work on comp sci together?” you asked, lips pursed as you followed him into his apartment.

“Oh, no, she texted me but I forgot to text her back,” Seungcheol shrugged.

“Text her back, you jerk!” you poked Seungcheol insistently, “Hayoung’s cute! And she likes you.”

“That’s good for her,” Seungcheol grumbled, irritated at your attempt to push him towards someone else. Maybe his cause was truly hopeless.

“You’re acting weird,” you glanced at him oddly before flopping down on the couch.

“No, you take the bed,” Seungcheol ignored your statement and plopped down near your feet, tapping your legs lightly.

“No! I’m not gonna kick you out of your bed!” you protested.

“No, seriously, sleep on the bed. I always wake up before you anyways. I’ll end up waking you up if you sleep out here.”

“I-,” you tried to think of another excuse, but he wasn’t your best friend for no reason. He knew you just as well as you knew yourself. “Okay,” you acquiesced, hopping up from the couch to walk into his room, “Do you need anything from here before bed?” you turned to ask him, hand on the doorframe.

“Nope, I don’t think so.”

“Okay, thanks again for letting me crash,” you smiled at him before pulling the door not quite closed behind you.

Once inside, you dropped your bag and helped yourself to a t-shirt and pair of shorts from Seungcheol’s drawers. You laughed at the way you were swimming in the shirt.

“I look ridiculous,” you laughed, walking back out into the living room. “Cheol, look,” you spread your arms out to your sides, showing Seungcheol the way that his t-shirt just swallowed you.

“I-,” his brain stopped for a few moments. He wouldn’t say anything, but he could in fact see your nipples as you tried to show him whatever you were showing him. “What?”

“Your shirt is too big on me,” you folded your arms over your chest, irritated that he had been listening.

“Oh yeah, well I’m bigger than you,” he replied curtly.

“Well, yeah,” you glanced away from him. He was in such an odd mood today! You grumbled just a little bit before flopping down on the bed. You were tired.

Tossing and turning, you fought for a long time to push down the arousal that was building in your gut. Being enveloped by Seungcheol’s scent was making your brain go haywire. You could feel yourself throbbing and you bit down on your fist in an effort to try and distract yourself, but that hadn’t worked. Glancing nervously at the door, you contemplated seeking some relief, but the idea of doing it in Seungcheol’s bed while he was just outside the door inspired guilt, worry, and worst of all, excitement. 

You managed to ignore yourself for about ten minutes before your left hand snuck down between your thighs, stroking them softly. Sinking deeper into Seungcheol’s pillows, you closed your eyes and imagined your best friend’s hands softly caressing and spreading your legs apart. You were embarrassed to hear the wet sounds of yourself opening up, but not embarrassed enough to stop. Your right hand came to tease the sensitive undersides of your breasts as your fingertips stroked languidly through your folds.

In the living room, Cheol wrestled with whether to disturb you or not. Several minutes ago, he had noticed that one of his textbooks was still in his room. He’d been planning to get ahead on a problem set, so it wasn’t as if he needed to disturb you, but he also didn’t see himself falling asleep anytime soon. Chewing his lip, he noticed that the door was still slightly ajar and decided to retrieve the book as you must not have gone to bed just yet.

When his eyes first landed on your face, your brows were knit up in utter concentration as your hands worked feverishly under the covers. Your front teeth had your lower lip pinned down as you bit back the loudest of your desperate noises. Seungcheol’s pupils dilated as he registered what was happening. Frantically, he tried to back out of the room, but his sweater caught the edge of a pamphlet that had been hanging off the bookshelf, sending a handful of items clattering to the floor.

“Fuck!” your eyes shot open, panicked as you met Cheol’s gaze, “I’m, you-, help!” you squeaked, pulling the covers over your face as you wished to vanish off the face of the earth.

Seungcheol’s mind went blank as he walked towards you, placing his hands over yours to pull down the covers. You peered up at him through your eyelashes, so overcome with embarrassment that you failed to register the look of hunger in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry Cheol, I didn’t, I shouldn’t have done that here!”

“What?” he cocked his head to the side, brain not really functioning.

“It’s your bed!” you looked at him as if he was crazy, “I just-, you smell so good,” you spoke without thinking.

“I…,” he looked you up and down, “You’re telling me I inspired this?”

“Shit, I shouldn’t have said that, oh my god!” you groaned, trying to shrug under the covers again. Seungcheol’s large hands held you still and you watched in disbelief as he brought your left hand up to inspect it. The shine of moisture on your fingers was mortifyingly telling, but he surprised you to your core when he brought your hand to his mouth and sucked your wet fingers inside.

“Huh?!” you choked out, eyes fluttering shut as he tongue stroked between your digits, tasting you thoroughly.

“You should’ve told me about this sooner,” he told you, voice gravely with desire, “I’ve been torturing myself trying to ignore how much I think about you.”

“Oh?” you blinked at him in disbelief.

“Yes, oh,”  Seungcheol rolled his eyes at you, “Now let me help, as you requested.”

His fingers wandered. His eyes widened slightly when he felt just how wet you were. The rumble that emitted from his chest almost sounded like a purr and you found yourself quickly breathless at his ministrations.

“Cheol,” you moaned, melting slightly as his substantially larger fingers swirled dizzyingly through your folds. He smirked down at you, more than pleased to hear your saying his name in that manner.

“So needy,” he chuckled, eyes flicking over you.

“Well I was halfway there when you walked in,” you teased him and his eyes flashed at you, a subtle warning.

He raised one eyebrow at you before sliding his fingers inside of you. You choked on your breath at the intrusion, though your legs parted asking for more.

“You-, your fingers!”

“Mm, how do they feel?” he smirked at you, confident.

“I knew they’d stretch me out, bigger than mine,” you panted and his eyes widened at the realization that this wasn’t the first time you’d imagined this.

“You think about me a lot?” he raised an eyebrow at you, now cocky.

“No,” you lied, glancing away to avoid his eyes.

“My thick fingers spreading you open,” he continued anyways, smirking when he felt the way you reacted around him.

“Seung-,” you whined, overwhelmed at the way he teased you.

“God I like hearing you say my name like that,” Seungcheol shook his head, as if in disbelief. “Can I see you?” he asked, other hand itching to peel back the comforter.

You nodded wordlessly. You were slightly mortified to reveal yourself to him in this way, but his other hand quickly distracted you. You watched his eyes rove across you appreciatively until they trained in on your bruise, his jaw clenching.

“I’ve been thinking about this all week,” he exhaled sharply.

“Why? It wasn’t on purpose!”

“No, it’s not-,” Seungcheol paused. “That’s not why. I was annoyed because the idea of getting to be the one to leave marks on you has rendered me…basically unable to produce coherent thought.”

“Oh? OH,” your eyes widened, gears in your brain turning. “I mean…all yours, Cheol,” you smiled sheepishly at him.

“Really?” he groaned, looking at you appreciatively as he thought about exactly where and how he’d like to mar your skin.

“Seungcheol!” you snapped at him as he continued to mumble to himself.

“Maybe a handprint here?” he grazed your upper thigh with his palm, eyes dancing mischievously at you. “Or a necklace of hickeys,” he growled as he nipped at the base of your neck. He had decided to seize the opportunity to tease you, and as much as you liked it, you only had so much patience.

“Cheol, please,” you pouted, grabbing at his collar, “I can’t take anymore of this.”

“Yes princess,” he pulled an old nickname out of the vault. You melted.

“Mmmpf!” he smothered your next protest with a kiss.

“Seung. Cheol!” you moaned desperately as his hand grabbed your thigh, hard.

The strength in his grip set your nerves alight and your head fell back against the bed, arching your chest up towards him. His mouth took the opportunity to latch onto the underside of your breast, biting down firmly. Your hand fisted itself in his hair.

It was so much sensation. It was so good.

“Hn,” he pulled back with a breathless smile. His eyes flicked down to the spots where his mouth and hand had been and his lips curled into a cocky grin at the bright red marks. With any luck those would be bruised nicely tomorrow.

“That was…a lot,” you murmured as you caught your breath.

“In a bad way?” Seungcheol’s brow furrowed with sudden worry.

“No,” you smiled at him, slightly fuzzy, “In a good way. A really good way.”

“Really?” his eyebrows raised back up with delight. “So you won’t mind if you bruise a little?”

“I don’t think I’ll mind even if you bruise me a lot,” you answered after some thought.

Your best friend’s eyes darkened. The way you had rearranged his words hit the possessive button in his brain like crazy. His lips nibbled and nipped their way down your torso while his hand came to cup your breast. His grip was on the hard side of firm as his lips latched onto a spot on your inner thigh. His tongue stroked across the sensitive skin as he sucked firmly.

Your thighs parted of their own accord as you squirmed at this building onslaught. As you shifted, you could hear the wet sounds of yourself spreading. Open and inviting.

“Cheol, please,” you tried to pull him towards you. “Please,” you panted.

Seungcheol, the bastard, increased the intensity of his sucking before releasing his lips with a loud ‘pop!’. The jolt of the disconnection sent a shiver through you and the spot where his mouth had been now felt woefully cool.

“Pretty,” he looked at the red mark appreciatively. The thought that you would be reminded of this encounter over the next weeks sent a streak of pride through him that was unexpected.

“Seungcheol!” you grabbed his face by his cheeks, directing his attention to you. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to kick you out and take care of it myself!”

His eyes widened and he chuckled sheepishly before reaching over you to pull a condom out of the nightstand. You watched, almost painfully aroused, as he undressed and unrolled the condom over himself. His cock bobbed proudly as he pulled his sturdy torso over you, slotting himself between your thighs.

You sighed when his cock came to rest against your core. You could already tell it was going to be good.

“Seungcheol, please,” you placed your hands around his jaw. “Need you.”

He nodded, reaching down to slip himself inside of you. A soft gasp escaped you as his head pushed in and you couldn’t help but relish in the stretch. Seungcheol took his time sinking into you. The whines and gasps that you made were way too good to be rushed.

“Cheol,” your hands clutched at the back of his thick neck until he was pressed flush against you. “Fuck,” you exhaled into his ear.

Seungcheol’s hand was gripping your hip so hard as he struggled to keep control of himself. Of all the things that he found overwhelming, the way you pulsed and squeezed around him, the little sounds you made as he had pressed into you…the worst of all was the way you smelled. His hand fisted itself further in your hip as he inhaled you, a most intoxicating scent.

You clenched around him as his hand tightened. He was sure to bruise you there, too, and you couldn’t wait. Knowing that you’d be able to see these marks as evidence that this wasn’t another crush induced dream made you feel crazed in a different way.

“You feel perfect,” Seungcheol groaned against your skin as his hips started to move. “I just knew it.”

Clench.

You hooked your legs around his hips as he pumped into you deeply. Each thick stroke pushed you dangerously closer to the precipice and you were ready to fall off the edge.

“Cheol,” you pulled back slightly to meet his blown out gaze. “I’m there.”

“Go ahead,” he encouraged you, aching to feel you come apart around him. “Be good and come for me.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as you let go. Your hands clutched desperately at his shoulders as your pussy fluttered around him. You didn’t even know what kinds of sounds you made as you simply didn’t have the presence of mind.

“So good,” he smiled, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against yours. “So good,” he grunted before his hips shuddered and he emptied himself inside of you.

You wrapped your arms around his torso as he slumped down on top of you. He smiled when you gave him a squeeze with your entire body.

“So you’re kind of possessive, huh?” you chuckled softly after you’d regained your sanity.

Seungcheol squeezed his eyes shut with a laugh. He hadn’t realized it, or maybe it was just because it was you, but yes. Yes he was.

[aspoetssay]

DOMESTIC COD CHARACTERS X GN!READER HEADCANONS alejandro, ghost, soap, price, valeria, rodolfo, könig, gaz

This comes from a request of an anon from my main account. Thank you so much for the request, anon! I thought that it was such a good idea that most of the characters deserve to have a few paragraphs! I hope you will like it!

warnings: curse words and tooth-rotting fluff.

ALEJANDRO VARGAS

Lazy Sundays are a must. As much as he is a passionate man, who loves to go exploring—sometimes the warmth of the bed and you make him feel so lazy. That man will whine, protest and create chaos if you’ll refuse to stay with him in bed and do nothing. A planned lunch with friends? Cancel it. In need of groceries? You’ll get order something. Just stay in bed with him if you don’t want to be suffocated in his arms.

Loves to prepare food but likes it too spicy. You can handle spice—but that man could easily get on the Hot Ones and not even shed a tear. For him, the seasoning is chilli peppers. The way you have to watch him like a hawk and force him not to put more spice into the stew - your doctor is already concerned about your health after you ate some stew he made—you almost ended up in the ER.

Loves it when you prepare him food. Yes, it’s not enough spicy for him, but he admires the variety of cuisines you can make. He won’t admit it, but the ravioli you make with mushrooms are to die for.

He isn’t much of a sweets-eating guy, but an occasional muffin goes well with a cup of coffee. His favourite are the triple chocolate muffins and once he almost burnt his hands because he tried to take the trays out of oven without the mittens. Your look was enough to scold him without any words being said.

Enjoys cuddling way too much. If you two are spending the evening together and watching a movie, you better know there isn’t any personal space between you two. Just try to scoot away from him. That man will give you the most hurt look you have ever seen, ready to give you the most dramatic monologue in Spanish that you don’t like him. His love language is touch—please be kind enough to kiss his insecurities away.

Has a garden in the backyard. Absolutely loves to grow his own vegetables and loves it when you are helping him. It’s the most domestic thing he does with you and it always makes him feel better. It puts his mind off the horrors he has to deal with in his job and just focuses on nourishing and growing something. A plus side for you—that man works in the garden without his shirt. And maybe that’s the reason why you’re so eager to help him.

Always will make you a warm bath when you are stressed. He isn’t the type of guy to threaten to hurt someone for making you stressed. He will more likely make sure you will feel better—a warm bath, fuzzy socks, a cup of tea and a cupcake. When it’s hard - he’ll listen to you, knowing just when and what to say to make you feel understood and better.

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

That man is the definition of domestic. No mask around you, not a scent of gunpowder - nothing. When he is off the missions and with you - he is a different man. Not Lieutenant Ghost, but your Simon.

He really values quality time. Doing nothing with you, just being in the same room with you is relaxing. You couldn’t count how many times he has passed out into an hour-long nap just from how relaxed he was in your presence. He’d always wake up from a loud snore he’d produce, catching your giggle.

Not a very good cook, but he knows a few easy recipes that are divine. Somehow he manages to make an omelette so good that no other omelette compares—what the hell is he putting in there? In addition, he makes a hell of a good tea. It’s one of his love languages to just randomly get you a nice cup of tea without any words exchanged. Yet you know that the cup of warm liquid is his way of saying he loves you.

Loves working out with you. Especially after you two turned your garage into a working-out space. He was always very reserved and closed-up while working out because he usually did it among other soldiers, but with you it is fun! The way he puts you on his back when he is doing push-ups. The way he is looking at your ass without the care in the world when you are doing squats, just waiting to get his hands on your bum. When he’s working with you, he never wears a shirt—he loves seeing you getting distracted in your reps because he just flexed his muscles.

Enjoys reading anything. Some bullshit newspaper with dumb articles? He’s on it just so he could grumble like an old man that it was bullshit. Some gossip magazine you were reading? Hear him display annoyance over the Kardashian names. He loves reading Greek Mythology—it’s not complicated for him and he likes the way the hexameter flows in his mind. You could swear you heard him one night crying about Patroclus’ death, but you never mentioned it—

Big about back hugs. You making lunch? Back hug. You doing your skincare routine? His hands are around you and he is secretly waiting to be pampered as well. Only because of you he has a whole ass skincare routine because you were absolutely aghast once you heard that he washed his face a few times with dish soap.

Be sure that he loves cuddling. He’s very touch-starved and he needs reassurance about that. Can absolutely die when you kiss the top of his head or his forehead. Once, you scratched just the right spot on his scalp and you heard him purr—he gave you the look right there and then that if you’ll say a word - you’ll regret it. But you just continued scratching the spot and you confronted him later on—

Remember the way he loves taking naps? He loves napping with you even more! Especially when you are laying on him, already passed out. Once, he accidentally turned over in his sleep and squished you almost to death—it took quite some time for him to wake up and move away from you as you were just about to die. From then on, he’s always been a bit on guard while napping with you, but you always soothed him enough for him to drift off completely.

Not a fan of taking pictures, but you already have quite the collection in your drawer. Once you showed all of them, blabbering how perfect he looks and that was the first time you saw Simon flush. He was so overwhelmed with the compliments that he couldn’t handle them anymore. Grumbles and mumbles followed as he stormed out of the room and you were horribly sad that you didn’t have a camera back there to take a picture of his rosy cheeks.

JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

Domestic Soap is a rare sight since he is quite the traveller and the chatter. He enjoys taking strolls with you, sightseeing, and travelling, but occasional evenings at home, doing nothing, are refreshing.

He loves to draw. He enjoys nothing more than sketching you when your attention is off to somewhere else - you always get too shy and too giddy when you notice that he is drawing you, so he does it secretly.

Once he gifted you a small sketchbook of sketches full of him and you. You started tearing up and he got seriously terrified—was he that bad at drawing? But once you clung onto his neck and expressed how talented he was, he was the one gulping down the tears. After that, you asked him to teach you how to draw—but then you quickly agreed that he should be the one sticking to it.

He is handy! Anything that needs to be fixed or changed will be done immediately. You don’t have to worry about flickering lights or getting new furniture since he can do it all himself! Yes, he does watch some tutorials on how to do something, but your garage is quickly filled with tons of tools and necessities for the household.

Shower time alone—what is that? You can be sure that once you even think about going to shower, that man will be already ready at the bathroom door. Once you were feeling too shy so you locked the door and he was whining like a lost puppy on the other side of the door. There was nothing more he loved than when you washed his Mohawk—even if he might seem like the 3in1 type of guy, he maintains a whole ass routine for his hair. You, taking care of it, means he trusts you.

Loves to watch reality shows with you. A little bit too invested in Too Hot To Handle, but he keeps on showing his concern when they keep breaking the rules. You always shut him up by asking if he’d manage to keep his hands off you, but he always says it is too different. And he boasts that his favourite couple always wins the money.

A big sucker for family celebrations. Can’t wait for Christmas or birthdays to gather with your or his family. He’s the type of person to make lame jokes around, but everyone loves him. He really is the star of any celebration except when it is another’s birthday. But most of it all, he loves to show you off to his family and friends. Can’t stop talking about you or giving you sweet looks. Couldn’t count on your fingers how many pictures you have where some aunty took a photo of you two—you laughing at his joke and him giving you heart eyes.

JOHN PRICE

Just like Simon, John is the definition of domestic as well. He loves having lazy mornings and lazy evenings as long as you are with him. If you tiptoe into the terrace while he is having his morning cigar and hug him from behind, that man will swoon instantly.

The one to bring you breakfast to your bed. He’s quite good at cooking and always surprises you with either an English Breakfast or something sweeter with a cup of tea of your liking. The presentation on the tray is always on spot—can do fabulous hearts on pancakes with Nutella.

Lets you take care of his beard. Now, listen—you see how well he takes care of his beard? It’s really important for him. You always eagerly help him to shave or to shape the beard, especially in the spots he can’t really see himself. There is just something about the way you sit on the bathroom counter, gently trimming his beard just the way he taught you.

Big on silly board games. Will absolutely crush you at Monopoly and Alias. Don’t even talk about any card games, because he might seem like he is an old man, but he quickly learns the rules and then no one can beat him. Every game night ends with you frowning and getting mad at him and him smugly saying that he will make it up to you.

Loves reading to you. Loves reading overall, but doesn’t spend much time doing so. That’s why, whenever you get on the couch into his arms with his book in your hand, he always smiles so widely that his cheeks start to burn. And when you admitted that his voice is the most pleasant thing you have ever heard—you can be sure that he will never deny your request to read for you out loud.

Big on dancing with you. Creating that cosy evening atmosphere when it is dark outside. When a stupid show is on the TV and he already goes to the Home Stereo and puts on some old, slow music, extending his hand to you. Either looking into your face or burying his nose into the crook of your neck while dancing—he just loves holding you close. Loves the way you giggle when he spins you around. Loves the way you wrap your arms around his neck and look him in the eyes.

Has a ridiculous amount of bucket hats. If it was up to him, he’d walk around the house you two share in them. But due to your protests, he only wears them outside. However, when you two are travelling and you put on his bucket hat to hide from the sunlight—that man is gone. Wherever you two are, you better hope your house or a hotel is close because he needs to show how much he loves you when you are wearing his hats.

VALERIA GARZA

It’s hard having Valeria over only for yourself. She is always not home. Always somewhere out there. Doing her business. Keeping you as far away from it as possible.

But some mornings, you would wake to find her all cuddled up to you—normally, Valeria would never admit that she loves cuddling up to you or being held by you. It was as if she always had to be on her guard, always to be superior and not show that she was quite fragile on the inside.

The way she would hum in pure ecstasy when you would pull her closer, gently stroke her hair because she knew well you won’t use the fact that she is without her guard against her.

You were the only person she shared her true smile with. No devilish grin, no mocking smiles—the first time you saw her truly smiling and her nose slightly scrunching - you were absolutely in heaven. You remember the way she absolutely demolished the pancakes you made one breakfast and the syrup was left around her mouth for you to kiss away. That’s when you received a smile from her and you knew it was only for you.

A big fan of your thighs. If you are sitting on the couch, watching TV, you better be sure that Valeria will lay her head on your thighs. You better put your hands to work and stroke her hair���make her time worth it.

Big on forehead kisses—there are countless forehead kisses you didn’t know about since she left in the middle of the night. She’d tuck you in, gently wrap herself away from your arms and kiss your forehead as if it was a butterfly’s touch. She’d admire you for a second—you were so beautiful.

Since she wasn’t home often, sometimes when she would come back - she’d find you waiting for her, drinking tea, doing some work on your laptop. She’d never specify when she is coming back, but it was as if you had a sixth sense for when she will come home. You better be sure that when she sees you late in the night, she will give you a kiss that will sweep you off your feet.

A whole different story is when you are sick. There wasn’t a time when you were sick and she wasn’t home. She was home all the time to take care of you. She’d spend restless nights just to make sure you were breathing and didn’t need something else. Your health was her priority - she couldn’t lose you.

At moments like these, she’d even show off her amazing cooking skills that only a sick state of you is allowed to see. She’d make you her grandmother’s stew which would make you feel better instantly, but you may or may not pretend to be sick just a tad bit longer so she would be beside you.

RODOLFO PARRA

This man does everything with you. He’s really big at doing chores together. Not only does he find that it’s far more efficient this way, but you two always make it far more fun than just swiping the dust—yes, the little dance breaks are a must.

Loves cooking with you. Anything really. Can be the sous-chef or can be the one giving you orders on what to do. It depends on which recipe you are making that day—if it’s yours, he will obey doing everything and if it’s his - he’ll let you do the easiest tasks because he doesn’t want to overwork you.

Definitely the golden retriever type of man so be prepared for his beautiful puppy eyes. He knows his power and he uses it against you. Just try to tell him no and face the way the consequences hit you on their own.

Always lets you have the last piece—I’m talking about anything. Last slice of pizza? It’s yours! Last piece of brownie? He’s already pushing it towards you. Last teabag of your favourite tea? Yours, yours and yours.

Really really big on hugs. Bear hugs precisely. Loves it when he can bury his nose into your neck and slightly squeeze you with his arms. The way your body fits in his always amazes him and he just can’t get enough of your warmth.

Always notices any changes you had. Went to the hairdresser? He will notice the one centimetre gone of your split ends. Changed your routine in makeup? Notices that you haven’t used that kind of eyeshadow before. Has all of the brands you used memorised and knows which product does what. Hell, he sometimes does your skincare or makeup for you.

Oddly good at handcrafting. If you are quite handsy with knitting, crocheting or sewing and you decide to show him how to do it, just know that he will quickly get the hang of it. He will even enjoy it and will never be ashamed to admit it. He thinks it’s amazing that you can create something with your hands and most of your gifts to each other quickly become something you two have made yourself.

KÖNIG

Domestic time with you means so much to him. Social anxiety can drain his energy and domestic time revives him. That doesn’t mean that you two don’t go out to have dinner or to watch a movie in the cinema, he just prefers to be home a bit more.

That man is a sucker for any romantic comedy. He will cry and laugh at any cliches and rewatch all of his favourite movies with you. If the couple is dancing in the rain, best know that he’s already looking at you with those eyes meaning that when it’ll rain - you two will be outside. Watching movies with you is relaxing - he knows you won’t judge the fact that he really isn’t into action or horror movies. His job puts him through enough. So romcom it is!

If you can sing or play any instrument, he’ll always listen to you do it. It’s very calming to him—hearing you practice, playing the chords wrong or hitting the wrong note always makes him smile. It feels refreshing to see you put your mind and soul into something so beautiful. Secretly, he takes some videos of you playing for him because he knows for sure that if you’d know he was filming you - you would stop playing.

Big on giving you massages. That man would do anything to get his hands on you, honestly… He enjoys the way you lean back to him when he gently kneads your shoulder blades. Please return the favor! If you want to put the giant man on his knees, a few gentle strokes down his back and he’s purring for you.

Really likes to colour with you those mandala colouring books. It might have seem silly at first, but you two are seated in the living room, only candlelight on the table as you two are colouring—one page for you and the other one for him. He always whines that he’s not able to choose the right colours, but always ends up with the most beautiful colour combinations making you rage out at him and poke his ribs. That man tends to doubt himself—praise him.

Likes to cocoon you into blankets and carry you around. No matter your protests, he will do whatever he pleases with you. Most of the time you just end up being placed on him during a movie, his lips buried at the top of your head and giving you small kisses.

If you take care of him of his fresh wounds, he will be very thankful for you. He never wants to make you worry, but with his size on the battlefield, he sometimes gets clumsy from the adrenaline overload. He appreciates how soft you are tending to him, placing kisses over scars and new bruises. Of course, after that, he receives a flick on his forehead from making you worry.

Big on asking random questions in the middle of the night. Just as you are about to fall asleep, comfortably wrapped in his arms, he’ll hit you with: “How many stomachs do cows have again?” The question makes you groan: “Four, my love, please sleep.” But that never shuts him up—then he will be concerned about the fact that you know the answer, and then he will google it and see some pictures that will traumatise him.

KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK

Loves to play video games with you. Yes, he is competitive most of the time, but if you are playing somewhere you two are in a team against others—you better know that he’ll protect you even in the game and praise you when you do a perfect headshot.

Despite him being a very outgoing partner, he sometimes needs quiet days. You know exactly when to give him his space and when to approach him with a cup of tea. He really appreciates the way you can read him as an open book.

Once you gifted him a huge set of Lego - Hogwarts edition and you saw his eyes sparkle like two shiny stars. He was seated all night putting it together and when he was finished, he was waking you up at four in the morning, getting you to the living room where the glory of his was standing. You swore you never have seen him smile like that.

Making sweets with him is quite frustrating. Because in 9 of 10 cases you end up with clothes dusted in flour or chocolate running down your nose—he’s playful. He’d do anything to make you squeal or laugh from the bottom of your heart. As an act of revenge, you always eat the last piece of cake you two have made together right in front of his face. Especially when he is already reaching for it.

Big on taking naps at a random time of the day—before going to sleep, he will kick up his legs on the coffee table and snooze out for ten minutes before joining you in bed. Likes it, even more, when you are the one to wake him up, but that ends up with you being on his lap, his lips peppering your body with small kisses while he is gently tickling you.

[acozysoulwrites]

Buried feelings | Astarion x Tav

Description: Astarion recalls being buried alive when Tav finds a man in the graveyard suffering the same fate. This leads to lots of emotions he isn’t sure what to do with.

Not anyone could say they’ve been buried alive. Even fewer could say that they’d been buried alive for a year. Astarion wondered if anyone else at all could say that. He could. Sometimes he had nightmares of being back in that coffin.

Sometimes it only took the smell of freshly dug dirt, or a stroll past a graveyard to stir the dread deep within. He hated how weak these simple things made him feel.

Earlier today, Tav led them through the graveyard in the lower city. Karlach found her parents gravestones and said a few words to them. Astarion wasn’t sure what he believed, but he could tell she felt the things she spoke.

On their way out, they noticed a freshly filled grave, a pipe stuck from the mound, and Gale was the first to notice the faint cries for help that erupted from it. As Tav dug into the shallow grave, Astarion’s throat tightened, his mouth grew dry, and he fought the urge to look away as the all too familiar feeling crept into him.

“It’s probably nothing, we should just go” He scowled, a glint of desperation flicked across his face.

“Star, if someone’s in there…” She gave him a look, the same look one would give when begging their beloved to keep a stray puppy or kitten, and despite how badly he wanted to be anywhere else right now, a sigh escaped him, and he submitted.

“Go on then, since you need to be everyone’s hero” Astarion grumbled, guilt running through him at the hurt expression that crossed Tav’s face. He meant to speak those words more softly just now.

The shovel soon came into contact with something hard. Surely enough, a coffin. Karlach helped Tav pry the lid open, before it could even open half way, a man shot up, nearly knocking the two back onto their arse. He gasped for air, clenching his chest as panic filled his frantic gaze.

Astarion stayed back while the other’s spoke with the stranger, asking him all sorts of questions and receiving few answers. His mind was elsewhere, it was distant and stuck. He couldn’t help but feel anger. Why hadn’t anyone noticed him? Not once during all those years did anyone come to his rescue, not a single God, not an angel such as his beloved Tav, no one. For a year, he waited, cried, and begged. Screaming as loud as he could until his voice was but a rasp and he swore he could taste blood.

Suddenly, tears were gathered at the corners of his eyes, glistening in the sunlight, they threatened to fall as he looked upon the man they’d saved. The man with a second chance at life so much earlier than Astarion had been given his.

Tav was finally satisfied with the explanation the man gave her as to why he had been buried, and she turned. Astarion watched as the man scurried off into the bustling city, gifted another chance at life. Surely he wouldn’t waste it on getting into squabbles with the higher ups.

“Gods, what an idiot” Tav scoffed, earning nods of agreement from Gale and Karlach.

“Can’t believe the things we run into sometimes” Karlach chuckled.

Astarion remained quiet, and it wasn’t until he felt Tav’s eyes on him that he spoke. He quickly fixed himself, his face fell, his eyes rolled and he spoke.

“Are you quite done saving every sad sop you come across?”

Karlach and Gale laughed and walked on, they were tired and heading back to camp. Astarion began to follow, but Tav stopped him, her hand gently grabbing his arm.

“Star…”

“I’m fine, love” He affirmed, his typical response to her pity. Pulling away from her grip, he takes off in camp’s direction.

-

The sun had begun to set. The smell of Gale’s stew traveled through the air, exciting those who actually ate in camp. Tav sits by the fire, listening as Lae’zel and Shadowheart discuss the gods and other religions. She couldn’t help but smile at their relationship and how it had gone from hate to well… whatever they were now.

As the others in camp chatter and buzz about the day’s adventures, Tav feels a sudden emptiness where someone is missing. Astarion. She stands, brushing herself off as she glances around camp. Her vampire companion was no where to be seen, so she knew where he must be.

“Star?” Tav pushes the flap of his tent open and finds him lying in the dark with only a candle by his side.

She creeps inside, letting the flap close, leaving the sun behind as she settles next to him.

“Talk to me”

Astarion’s eyes flick from the fire to his hand, then back again. “I’m fine”

Tav raises an eyebrow, her disbelief so strong that Astarion can feel it, and he sits up. “That’s not true.”

Astarion shoots her a look, but it falls short when he sees the genuine concern in her eyes. “It’s nothing” He had lost all fight in disguising the discomfort that lie deep in his heart.

Tav sighs and she scoots closer, when he doesn’t scuffle away in disgust, she settles close to him. He was doing it again, shutting down. He did this when things were too much in his head, he locked himself within. It was the only way he knew, the only escape.

“Is this about earlier? That silly man who got himself buried alive?”

He doesn’t move and that answers her question. Tav’s heart breaks. Gods, how she wishes she were around back then, how she wishes she could have found him. She’d have dug him up with her bare hands if that were all she had.

“My sweet, you know i’d have come for you, you know i’d have saved you in a heartbeat”

Astarion’s lips part, anger sparks like a dying fire inside him. “You… You didn’t though” he frowns, eyeing her as guilt sets in, he knows it was impossible, that she didn’t know, and a part of him fears he didn’t deserve to be saved, not then and not now.

His voice wavers as he speaks, “No one did.”

He knew he couldn’t blame Tav for the abandonment, yet a part of him seethed. It clawed at him from the inside. He wondered if she’d ever passed him in the streets of Baldur’s Gate, if she’d have noticed the lifelessness in his eyes as he gazed her hungrily. If she’d have turned and ran from him and his plans to take her into the night, back to Cazador like many others before.

Tav reaches out and places her hand onto his cheek, she rubs her thumb gently underneath his eye, just across his cheekbone.

“You know, some people don’t deserve to be saved”

Her words send an ache through him, the next words she’d speak would surely come with a heaviness. He didn’t either, did he?

“But you? You deserve it most” She hums

With this, he leans into her touch, warmth spreads across his face and into his limbs and he nearly goes weak under her skin. His hand slips around her wrist and he holds her there, taking in her scent, listening as her blood runs through her veins.

“It gets better, i promise” she whispers, pulling him into her arms, she leans back and he lays atop her, his arm around her neck as he hugs into her body.

“You seem so sure” He hums, inhaling deeply from her neck.

“As long as i’m here, i’ll make sure” Tav hums, placing a kiss atop his curly hair.

[bu-blegh-ost]

When Chip tends to distance himself too much, Gillion never gives himself enough space. And every time one of them leans too hard into his own bad habits, the other one is here to bring back the balance.

Chip turns away from people when he needs them most. When he messes up or has a hard time with something, he hides and alienates himself. He stews in his own emotions and unable to process them properly, he spirals until he builds a terrible and completely false image of himself that he gets consumed by, allowing no one to get close enough to help him see himself more clearly. He begans thinking of himself as a problem, as a person unfit of being loved or cared for and someone who will eventually lose everything he gained, often chosing to leave himself in order to spare himself an inevitable heartbreak of being chased away, that he always thinks is coming. And by doing so, he fails to see how much he is loved, needed and appreciated. He refuses to let himself see. The distance grows. But there is always someone who chases after him. Gillion. No matter how far Chip may try to run, Gillion will always be there to catch up to him, to close the distance he creates. To bring him back from the dark cloud he traps himself within and force him to see what everyone else see in him. A person so dear and precious to all of his friends' hearts. And it turns out Chip can see it most clearly, when he catches a glimpse of himself inside of Gillion's eyes.

Gillion, never focuses on himself. He never spares the time to truly know his heart, and so he never grasps what it means to give himself space to stop and foucus on what he's feeling. Even when his heart races with panic, when his wounds are too great to ignore and when he feels himself slipping closer and closer to an inevitable break in his psyche, he attempts to scramble and squeeze himself between the problems of others to snuff out his own tears that threaten to spill, to push it all back inside. Gillion himself always decides to move on from terrible things that happen to him, completely neglecting the fact that neither his mind or his body had the time to recover. But every time he does that to himself, there is someone who will always notice. Chip. Chip, who for some reason keeps reminding Gillion to breathe, when he forgets to. Chip, who reminds him to go to sleep or to sit down, and only when Gillion listens and does just that, he realizes that his legs nearly give out underneath him. Chip, who grabs his hand and stops him when he rushes off too fast. And Gillion doesn't really understand why he does it and why it seems to be helping him so much. He doesn't truly get it, nor does he know how Chip always seems to know when he needs it. But Gillion doesn't have to understand to be grateful for it. And he is. Despite it all, he always is.

[ladykailitha]

Steve's Rewind

Just an idea I had stewing in my brain, buckle up this is going to get angsty as fuck. Thanks to my discord for helping me with some of the fiddlier details.

Here we go.

The Harrington family were once a clan a powerful magic users, though their bloodline is diluted now they barely have the smallest spark of it left in their blood. It allows them to use the device left to them by their ancestor. Althenea’s Life Spool, or the Spool most of the time.

It allows the user to go back and do over one event at the cost of one year of their life. In addition they remember the previous timeline. It is handed to the eldest child on their 16th birthday.

Usually only members of the Harrington clan remember previous timelines, but when Steve meets El, he finds out that the experiments done to her and the other children make it so she can see the previous timelines, too.

She commends him for the two times he’s used it so far.

The first time was on Nov. 12th, 1983. The night he went to Jonathan’s to apologize about the camera. The first time, he ran. Their screams ringing in his ears as he flees. Only now all the Byers family is dead, along with Nancy and the Mind Flayer breaks through to the surface world, screaming like a banshee.

He doesn’t know what will happen if he runs back into that house, but he knows at least he’ll have tried.

And while it doesn’t work out perfect, he’s pretty satisfied with the results.

On Oct. 31st, 1984 he thinks about using it again, but doesn’t. He doesn’t know what event started the relationship with Nancy to go south. So he leaves it be and silently deals with the broken heart.

On July 5th, 1985. Steve learns that El can see the previous timelines too and asks him to rewind so Hopper lives. Steve tells her about the cost and she turns pale. He asks her if she still wants that and she shakes her head. No. That would not be fair.

Then on Mar. 29th, 1986, she comes to him again. This time it’s all of Hawkins that swings in the balance and he agrees. He was just waiting for her to return so that they could plan out what needed to be changed.

So they hatch out a plan: Give everyone an extra twenty minutes to get into place. Towels in the vents of the trailer. Time for Hopper et al to kill the demogorgon, time for Jason and his cronies to find the Creel House, come up empty and leave, time for El to get into a better place to protect Max. Steve stocks up on flares and torches to bring as much heat as possible to the Vecna fight.

They win, Eddie and Max escape unharmed, Vecna and Upside Down falls. Everything is good for awhile.

Eddie and Steve start dating and they’re really happy. Until Steve arrives to their favorite gay bar a little late because of work and finds Eddie in a corner with another guy and just leaves.

When Eddie stumbles home that night Steve tears into him and threatens to break up with him.

Only Eddie starts crying.

Like full on sobs and the truth comes out, that guy had roofied Eddie and was assaulting him.

Now Steve is devastated and cleans Eddie up, putting him to bed. Then he calls El. Tells her he’s going to rewind the events of that night. And at first she argues against using the device for something so trivial especially one that didn’t end in someone’s death. If he wouldn’t do it for Hopper, what’s so different about this moment.

He reminds her that Hopper is alive, that his being in the Russian prison camp is part of the reason they were able to defeat Vecna and she concedes. Asks again why this is worth a year of his life and he explains that it’s not about his relationship with Eddie. They talked and Eddie already forgave him and said that he would have done the same thing. It might take a bit, but they’ll be fine.

No, the reason Steve wants to do this is because Eddie has suffered so much. Because none of the other Party members got introduced to this shit by watching a nice girl who had done nothing wrong, twisted and torn apart before their eyes.

That the witch hunt and getting off the murder charges had put a dent in Eddie’s confidence. This would destroy it entirely.

This is about a person who deserves a boyfriend who would give up everything for him to show him how loved he is, even at the cost of one year of his life.

El eventually agrees.

Steve goes to the back of the closet and pulls it out. But Eddie finds him, tells him he overheard him talking to El and he won’t let Steve do that. He’s not worth a year of his life.

Steve kisses him gently and explains what it is and what it’s done. Sometimes things work out for the better, sometimes they don’t. But always, always, always the change is worth it to the user. It’s why after nearly five hundred years the Spool has not been used up, because the string is finite, it will run out one day. But each person that has been gifted it knows the change is always worth it.

Once his father rewound cheating on his mother. The demogorgon that killed Barb, killed her instead and the world ended. He hated having to go back rewind that moment, but he knew the consequences of that moment needed an empty house that day.

Eddie sighs in relief. The moment can be rewound. So he puts his trust in Steve. That his boyfriend whose family has had this device for literal centuries knows the cost better than anyone, understands what hes’ doing.

Steve rewinds the moment and they are stronger together for it.

Steve will use it only use it one more time, when the birth of their daughter kills Robin who was their surrogate. They wait a year and everything turns out fine the second time.

Then on Julie Barbara Munson’s 16th birthday, her papa gives her his most precious item. A small spool of red thread.

[itsabouttimex2]

Yandere Older Brother Ne Zha

Ne Zha definitely cherishes his position as your older brother, whether by blood or bond.

Maybe you’re a gift from the Celestial Realm, a reward for his centuries of faithful service. Maybe you’re a younger celestial being who he was assigned to train. Maybe you’re just a mortal who found their way to him and lent him a hand when he needed it. No matter the situation, he comes to see you as a personal responsibility.

He switches frequently between being brotherly and fatherly. He has centuries of experience and training, and takes a very personal role in ensuring you grow into a upstanding member of either realm.

He’ll train you both in the usage of an armillary sash, and a weapon of your choosing. In all likelihood, it’ll be some kind of polearm. His heart swells with pride to see you diligently practicing with your weapon, mimicking his movements closely.

Not that he intends to ever allow you to use those skills. In times of emergency, he spirits you away to his dwellings, hiding you safely away.

In the case that he can’t tuck you somewhere safe and secure, he’ll simply resort to the prompt and outright destruction of whatever would dare to threaten you. He trains you to turn your head and cover your eyes in the situation that he must fight with you around.

Watching someone get their windpipe crushed by a heavenly sash isn’t very child-friendly, after all. If you find yourself paralyzed by fear or awe, he’ll dash to your side at the speed of light, wrapping your eyes and ears with his sash before turning back to the enemy.

Strangulation is bad. Death by dozens of stab wounds from a dual-tipped spear is worse, but it’s the price his opponents pay for fighting him in your presence. Anything to keep you safe and sweetly innocent, after all.

Ne Zha’s not always so stern and dangerous, though. In fact, you happen to be the person is kindest and most loyal to. He spends as much of his time with you as he can. Part of his daily routine is to brush and style your hair, and that doesn’t change as you age. When you’re young, he styles it to match his own, twin buns tied with silk ribbons. As you grow older, he does allow you to change your hair as you please, so long as you look presentable and clean. Even as his beloved little sibling, you must be a proper member of Heaven, putting appropriate time and effort into your appearance.

The only exception to this rule is when you are sick, in which case you are bed-bound and warmly tucked in at all hours of the day until your condition improves. He feeds you by spoon, nothing but nutritious soups and stews made with high quality ingredients. (You can convince him to get you a box or two of Pigsy’s noodles if you behave yourself, though.)

His devotion to you goes beyond guiding your personal appearance and tending to your illnesses. He’s more than a little manipulative, subconsciously guiding you to see the danger in everything around you so that you’ll always fall back on him for safety and comfort. He tells you a (true) story about a man cutting off his finger with a kitchen knife and succumbing to the infection afterwards when you’re just a little too young for such morbidity, leaving you scared and nervous around sharp utensils. Reasonably, you keep away from such equipment afterwards, just as he planned. He tells you about people who were cast from the Heavens for being disrespectful, thrown out and never let back in, separating their families permanently. As a result, you tend to your appearance and mannerisms more carefully. He tells at length you about Sun Wukong, who defied the Heavens and rampaged about, and was captured and then imprisoned for hundreds of years under Five Phases Mountain.

Ne Zha’s intentions are good, of course. He wants to teach you to behave and be polite and dutiful, because the Heavenly realm where you both preside has many rules and laws to learn, and so very much protocol that must be abided by. He just wants to raise you properly, and hopes that the stories he tells you will aid him in doing so.

They do, in part. You are much more conscientious of your actions and behavior, yes. You’re very polite and well-behaved, to the adoration of the elder celestials around you. It’s hard to see any wrong in his methods.

Until you start coming to him in the dead of night, sobbing and shaking in fear from nightmares. You tearfully recall as much of the bad dream as you can, speaking of being trapped and then crushed until you couldn’t breathe. Your brother scoops you up into his sinewy arms, rocking you back and forth as he shushes you and wipes away your tears. He tucks you under his own covers, comfortably covering you up. Ne Zha allows you to sleep in his bed that night, warmly snuggled up to you. He cherishes you too much to send you back to your own room, choosing to spend the night holding you instead. His worries melt away as you tightly cling to him, sniffling yourself to sleep.

They return in full force as this routine becomes a habit. Night after night you wake up screaming and crying, plagued by persistent night terrors. And, as it would be, every nightmare is related to one of the gruesome and disheartening stories he’s told. As it turns out, fear isn’t the most effective parenting technique.

Once he realizes the sheer impact his storytelling has had on you, a sprig of guilt takes root in his heart. His intention had never been to terrify you, only to warn you away from dangerous things and rebellious behavior. The result spreads much further than that, unfortunately for him.

Diligently, he works to abate these issues and soothe your concerns and fears. Returning you to a proper sleeping schedule isn’t easy, especially when you wake up crying every night, but remaining by your side and reminding you that he won’t allow you to come to harm. With enough time and effort, he manages to purge most of your worries.

Most. Not all, of course. He’s of the belief that one should have a healthy fear of Heaven and it’s wrath, after all. If your fright keeps you well-behaved and safely tucked under his thumb, all the better.

If the seeds of fright that remain teach you that his side is the safest place for you in all the realms, who is he to remove them?

With all the things he’s done to protect the realm, and by extension, you?

You aren’t wrong to feel that way.

[khattikeri]

the thing about wei wuxian’s victims is that calling them wei wuxian’s victims in the first place is nebulous.

that isn't to say those who died or were bereaved after nightless city or the first siege of the burial mounds weren't hurt by wei wuxian’s retaliation. but calling them "wei wuxian’s victims" while ignoring that cultivation society scapegoated and hunted him down, and that wei wuxian never attacked without being threatened first, is a massive oversimplification.

sure we have minor characters like the cultivator who lost his leg or the cultivator who lost his parents, and sure mxtx writes them as part of a mob of more unreasonable people who were largely not even present for these events, but the thing is... there are major named characters who were present, or who had loved ones there, and their grief and pain are given full attention by the story. they're called jiang cheng and jin ling.

my sister/my mother died at nightless city because of you! except no, jiang yanli actually died because an entirely different nameless cultivator stabbed her, and she intentionally pushed wei wuxian out of the way to protect him out of sincere love. it wasn't the first time. she already demonstrated this when she stood up for him and called him her blood brother in front of her fiance and his family at an event they were hosting, when she had zero backing support and could've easily been dumped and had her marriageability ruined for speaking out of turn.

who's to say that jiang yanli's death wasn't the only instance of cultivators dying at nightless city from friendly fire during all the chaos? we don't know. the one thing we do know for certain is that once it was all over, the survivors attributed the (dubiously counted) thousands of casualties to wei wuxian alone.

saying that wei wuxian was the sole cause is overly convenient for cultivation society. in particular the major sects politically did not want to help the wen remnants and were content to mistreat them in forced labor camps. they thought that wei wuxian was too dangerous with his unique ghost path of cultivation and use of resentful energy, so they gathered everyone up and tried TWO different times to assassinate him. the first time just killing wei wuxian alone. the next time, taking all the remaining wens out with him.

there's a lot left unsaid about these major battles and sieges which leads to a lot of our discourse as fans to begin with-- we have such limited information about all these major events of the past! and unfortunately for us, that's the point!

that's the thesis of the book! the details of the pain and grief you go through don't actually matter! regardless of it, you have to eventually move on. you have to actively choose good, to do what you think is right for the sake of doing the right thing, and not just to act based on your idea of fulfilling debts or deserving to be repaid a certain way!

what everyone claims as indisputable facts about wei wuxian are actually skewed not only by rumors, but by politics. mxtx doesn't depict these various randos to give them a brief beat of sympathy. nor does she do it just to make wei wuxian look better.

they are there because they are also angry and bitter, stewing in the past looking for someone to keep blaming (wei wuxian; the cultivation world decided thirteen years ago it would be wei wuxian) and demanding recompense from him. jiang cheng does the same for the entire damn book.

jin ling breaks the cycle; in spite of the rocky start he eventually chooses to trust wei wuxian and argue on his behalf even in front of his elders. even though he's the heir to a major sect. even though he has been taught his entire life to despise and be angry at wei wuxian for orphaning him.

mdzs is a complex story. it also happens to be a black and white story without gray morality. there are many what-ifs, actions that went poorly or circumstances that would've shifted the course of events if only things had gone well for everyone, but nobody acts in a legitimately morally grey way.

throughout the novels there is a clear delineation between good and bad, righteous and wrong; wei wuxian is clearly the former in both cases not because mxtx wanted to more easily depict her protagonist as a good guy, but because she consistently bases these dichotomies upon the fulcrum of hypocrisy.

supporting the use of resentful energy via ghost cultivation to kill your political enemies in wartime and then immediately turning on the person doing so for you once the war is over, blaming all evils on him and trying to get him killed because he's trying to help the few survivors of the opposing side (both because it's the right thing to do and to pay back a life debt he secretly owes that only two or three people know about, oops)-- that is hypocrisy.

if wei wuxian does it and we like it, it's expected of him and he deserves no praise, though he handles it all with charm and stride befitting the son of the illustrious cangse-sanren.

if wei wuxian does it and we don't like it, he's a murderous evildoer, the ungrateful and dangerous son of a servant (whose name we conveniently never say even though we all know who wei changze was).

mdzs is a book about the hypocrisy of the upper class. mdzs is a book about grief. mdzs is a book about society and rumors and politics and the pitfalls of chasing after what you are "owed". mdzs is a book about love and sticking to your own path and principles. wei wuxian is its protagonist, and by the novel's own values, he is indisputably good.

[zachsbees]

Hi yes so I have a hanzo headcanon id like to share.

When hanzo first joins overwatch, for obvious reasons, most of the other members don’t trust him. Some more openly than others. But it’s something hanzo expected. Whether it hurts him or not, he understands. Maybe even respects them more for it, for their loyalty.

(And it does hurt. He probably doesn’t even realize that their coldness stings because of his own emotional constipation, a lack of understanding when it comes to his own feelings, but it damages all the same in its own quiet way)

I think it’d be Cole that’d be the one to make his distaste most known, sneering and passive aggressive. Genji is one of his closest friends; he got to see firsthand exactly how horrifically hanzo mutilated his own brother. Family is a sensitive topic for him. How could he ever even consider trusting a kin slayer?

Regardless, hanzo can handle their different flavors of distaste. It takes a lot more than some mean spirited words (and a particularly threatening warning from Cole) to break him. He’s not there for them anyway; he’s there for genji alone.

But I think Cole would end up taking it a step further into violent territory, maybe not even fully aware of it. Like. Maybe they’re sparring or something and things start getting a little too violent. Hanzo isn’t an idiot; he sees exactly what’s going on almost immediately. How cole’s face darkens with vengeful anger. How his blows become sharper, deadly intent growing with each miss. Cole is getting lost in his own anger— bubbling to the surface after a lifetime of stewing.

Because it’s not just about hanzo’s mistake. It’s about cole’s anger over losing the people he cares about. His own insecurity.

And hanzo? He isn’t about to let that shit fly. There is no honor is dying to a teammate in a petty brawl, or potentially getting each other killed during a mission over a grudge that leaks onto the battlefield.

Which is exactly what hanzo lays out, plainly, bluntly, and in much more sophisticated words than I can come up with. But this next line I thought up, this is important, the one that brought this idea to me in the first place:

“You will not steal my brother’s revenge from him. I will not allow it.”

And he’s deadly serious. Because the only person that hanzo would ever let kill him would be genji. Period. And he will wait for that day for the rest of his life.

Hanzo then proceeds to gracefully kick cole’s ass to the mat. Cole is talented, he was in blackwatch and trained under Gabriel after all, but he’s not as good as a man who’s been trained to be an assassin from birth.

The gunslinger has a bit more respect for hanzo after that, albeit begrudgingly.

(And if you wanna get yeehan with it, maybe he’s a little turned on too. I could see him being into someone who can kick his ass, and hanzo would certainly look gorgeous doing it)

[thereceptioniststyles]

Thin Ice

The remainder of the week dragged on at a torturous pace, each moment an agonizing eternity. I sat there, feigning indifference to Harry's kiss with Grace, but inside, I was seething. Every attempt to appear aloof and desirable was a facade crumbling under the weight of my madness. Finally, Friday crawled its way into view, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Weekends were my sanctuary, a respite from the torment of Harry's wandering eyes and suffocating presence. In the safety of my apartment, with only my cat for company, I could finally exhale.

December arrived, cloaking the world in a blanket of snow. The journey from my car to work became a treacherous dance on slippery ice, each step a battle to maintain balance and not fall to the ground. With every breath, I exhaled clouds of mist, each one a reminder of the bitter chill that permeated the air, mirroring the frostiness in my heart.

Lost in my thoughts, I trudged along the sidewalk, oblivious to the approaching figure until their touch jolted me from the depths of my mind, sending me crashing to the icy ground below.

"Oh, Ayla, love, I'm so sorry," Harry's voice pierced through the haze as I struggled to regain my composure.

Wincing, I attempted to pick myself up, but my limbs flailed uselessly until Harry extended his hand, pulling me to my feet. Though I was tempted to drag him down with me in my embarrassment, I refrained, my pride wounded enough.

"It's fine, Harry," I muttered through gritted teeth, my words as sharp and cold as the winter air. That enveloped

Standing before me, Harry's hands rested on my shoulders, his gaze scrutinizing as he pressed a light kiss to my forehead.

"You're a champ," he declared, his concern seemingly genuine.

"What do you want?" I snapped, the frustration boiling within me. I had strived for elegance and grace, yet here I was, sprawled on the ground like a clumsy fool.

"Just wanted to catch you before we tackle the day at work," Harry replied, his tone light.

"Why's Grace coming in later?" I inquired, unable to mask the bitterness in my voice.

Harry chuckled, his amusement grating on my nerves. "She left my place last night. Just a quick visit."

My blood simmered beneath my skin, ready to erupt.

"You know, Harry, being with you is like being in a damn car crash," I spat, my words laced with venom. "One moment, everything's smooth sailing, and the next, I'm slammed with the impact."

Harry stood there, stunned by my outburst, yet offering no resistance as I unleashed my pent-up emotions.

"Keep going," he encouraged, his voice carrying a hint of challenge.

"Why would you kiss me if you're just going to mess around with someone else?" I demanded, gesturing angrily between us. Tears threatened to spill over, betraying the storm raging inside me.

"I can't control what you think, Ayla," Harry retorted, his words slicing through me like shards of ice. "It was just a kiss. Grace is just a distraction. You have a talent for blowing things out of proportion. Grow up. No man wants a woman who acts like a child."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me to stew in a whirlwind of emotions. His scent lingered in the air, a bitter reminder of what could never be. I knew I couldn't face another day at work, trapped in his presence for eight agonizing hours. Today, I would break.

I grabbed my phone and fired off a quick text to Callie, concocting a story about a fall on the way to work and a trip to urgent care. It was a lie, of course. I had no intention of subjecting myself to the sterile, fluorescent-lit halls of the local clinic. No, my plan involved retreating to the sanctuary of my bed, cocooned in blankets, nursing wounds that were more emotional than physical. At least there, in the warmth of my covers, I could hide from the world.

As I trudged back to my car, frustration bubbled within me, threatening to boil over. With a primal scream, I unleashed my pent-up anger, pounding my fists against the unyielding metal of the steering wheel. Angry at myself for allowing things to reach this point, furious at Harry for his obliviousness to my worth, and seething at the universe for its cruel twists of fate.

The short drive back to my apartment was a blur of rage and resentment. I parked with a forceful slam, the sound reverberating through the quiet street. If I was going to be consumed by fury, then the whole world would bear witness to my wrath.

But even before I reached the elevator, my phone buzzed insistently in my pocket, interrupting my storm of emotions. With a sense of grim inevitability, I glanced at the screen. "Baby," read the text, a sickeningly sweet endearment that now tasted bitter on my tongue.

Part of me longed to turn the car around, to storm back into that office and unleash hell upon Harry. I wanted to shatter his complacency, to show him that I was not to be trifled with, that beneath my disguise of poise lay a warrior waiting to be unleashed.

But I hesitated. Instead of succumbing to the urge to confront him head-on, I made a different choice. A calculated one. If Harry wanted to play games, then I would play along. I would give him a taste of his own medicine, a bitter pill to swallow. And perhaps, in the twisted dance of our relationship, I would find some semblance of control amidst the chaos.

My fingers hovered over the screen, a storm of conflicting emotions swirling within me. I could feel the weight of Harry's words pressing down on me, his insidious manipulation threatening to drown me in a sea of doubt and desire.

With a trembling hand, I composed a response, each keystroke a battle against the tumult raging within me.

"I bet you like playing these games," I sent, my words a thinly veiled challenge, a gauntlet thrown down in the twisted dance of our relationship.

Seconds stretched into eternity as I awaited his reply, my heart pounding in my chest like a drumbeat of anticipation.

And then, there it was, his response illuminating the screen like a damning confession.

"I do."

The simplicity of his admission sent a chill down my spine, a stark reminder of the depths of his depravity.

But before I could formulate a reply, another message from Harry invaded my screen, each word dripping with poison.

"I like it. Almost as much as you liked when I kissed your forehead. I bet you wished it was your lips."

His words cut through me like a knife, slicing through the facade of indifference I had so carefully constructed.

I was stunned into silence, the weight of his implications crushing me beneath their unbearable weight.

"If you come over tonight I can show you what it feels like, in case you forgot."

His audacity left me reeling, my mind unable to comprehend the depths of his depravity.

Harry was sick, twisted, a puppet master pulling the strings of my emotions with callous disregard for the damage he wrought.

He knew the power he held over me, the way his words could unravel me with a single utterance.

And worst of all, he was right.

As much as I despised him, loathed the hold he had over me, a part of me yearned to succumb to his sick little mind games, to lose myself in the chaos of his embrace.

He knew all too well how to push my buttons, how to exploit my weaknesses for his own twisted pleasure.

And in that moment of painful clarity, I realized just how deep I had fallen into his web of deceit.

I was trapped, ensnared in his toxic embrace, unable to break free from the chains he had forged around my heart.

With a heavy heart and a trembling hand, I resigned myself to the inevitable, knowing that no matter how hard I fought, Harry would always be one step ahead, a puppet master pulling the strings of my shattered heart.

All Parts

[givehimthemedicine]

🛹🛼

lots of talk about why Mike reacted so negatively to this when he reacted so positively to this:

can we talk about how the Rinkomania reaction started in between those two things? right here:

at mid-season-2, all the times Mike has seen El use force against people have been super justified because there were lives at stake (or at very least, like in the case of tossing Lucas in the junkyard, she thought there were)

then Max wipes out, and goes "ooh it was like a magnet pulled on my board" and instead of taking that the way anyone would - that this annoying girl fell due to lack of skill and is trying to save face with a stupid excuse - INSTANTLY Mike suspects El. El, who's currently dead or lost in another dimension or whatever, must actually be lurking around here with nothing better to do than trip Max.

ok 100% accurate but I'm offended nonetheless

why did he jump to that conclusion?

the last time some inexplicable, physical but nonlethal hijinks befell someone he was talking to, he turned around and saw who was responsible:

so when Max fell, in that same gym btw, of course his brain goes turn around, look at what you seee

this was Mike learning that, oh, El isn't Superman and doesn't reserve her powers only for perfectly morally justified situations, but can in fact lash out about anything that bothers her, like the disturbed child she is.

BUT I don't think he actually processed that at that moment. he wasn't thinking about how Max did absolutely nothing that could be misinterpreted as a threat, and didn't deserve this. at that moment, any thought of justice for Max, or scrutiny of El's motives, was easily and completely drowned out by excitement that El might be there.

so later Mike sees Angela screaming on the ground with El standing over her, and remembers he has already seen El respond to a non-life-threatening situation with a level of force that didn't make sense to him.

plus he has that whole protection thing and I think seeing anyone get hurt is paladin catnip to him (see him rushing to Max's aid two seconds after telling her she's annoying). he has that instinct to support whoever's been knocked down undeservedly - yeah he knows Angela is an asshole, but El's response seems overboard to him, so while he doesn't go as far as rushing to Angela's side, he doesn't rush to El's side either.

he keeps distance between himself and El at the rink and leaves her sitting alone in the most literal demonstration of not wanting to take her side. he seems irritated in the car and downright pissed at the dinner table. I think it's true that he was overwhelmed in the moment and scared not of El but of the situation, but I don't think that's all of it, because then why would he be pissed.

maybe he's seeing patterns and thinking back on how Max didn't deserve that at all, and how neither of these things were very Superman of El and he's a bit disillusioned that she doesn't live up to the flawless superhero moral code he assigns her in his mind.

while the Angela thing seems WAY harsher than the Max thing, can I also say that a lot of that is due to circumstances?

Angela's pouring blood, wailing, an ambulance has to come, there's lots of witnesses. it looks baaaad. Max isn't injured, isn't too bothered, and there are no witnesses or real consequences. shrug. but it easily could've gone down much more like Angela. you can absolutely break a bone or get a concussion from a spill like Max's.

Max isn't hurt, so Mike just leaves the room, and nothing ever comes of it. compare to Mike watching an inevitably-to-be-arrested El sit stewing in the aftermath as dozens of Angela's sympathizers watch her get checked for brain damage by EMTs.

it's little wonder Mike has such a different reaction in the moment, even though El's actions in these two scenes actually isn't totally night and day.

El's force was more deliberately focused on Angela, and I think El did intend to hurt Angela in a way she didn't intend to hurt Max (El yoinked the skateboard rather than bodily targeting Max herself, but her intent was still to make Max fall, and she could have been comparably injured as a result).

like, up til the point of "El gets mad and lashes out" these are similar - the way the aftermath unfolds just happens to take the best and worst possible paths, respectively.

and before you want to point out that the Angela thing was a reaction of anger and the Max was just about puppy love jealousy, no, that was anger. Max is literally the first thing El thinks of when Kali says to think of something that angers her.

tldr; rinkomania is just a nightmare remix of the gym scene to Mike

[obxone]

Vigilante Shit (Chapter Eight)

Edited-ish. ~1.8k words

Tag list: @fishingirl12 @gillybear17 @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @gills-lounge @emmafitzzz @redfieldfx @baby19sthings

Masterpage

Spaghetti. You have decided it is what you will feed the pogues tonight at the Chateau. Taking care of John B and the other pogues along with your brother is all you have been able to think about lately, and you are determined to make sure the Chateau is in a decent, livable condition for the pogues. Making dinner with your favorite people, including Mav, has you smiling brighter than you can ever imagine.  

“Well, well!”

Annoyance prickles down your spine, and you huff harshly, already knowing who it is behind you. On instinct, you tighten your grip on the jar of pasta sauce before turning to see Barry smirking at you as he leans back against the edge of the shelving unit.

The idea of the metal folding under his weight and burying him in groceries until he is gone pops into your head, but you shake it away and turn back to your browsing.

“What do you want, Barry?”

“Damn! I can’t shop like everyone else?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes while setting the jar into your basket. “We both know that is not why you are here.” 

Even if he would not admit it, you both know that he followed you inside and had been lying in wait for this moment. Barry makes you uneasy, and he knows it.

He smirks, gold tooth flashing. “Saw those pogues this morning. All five of them…”

And there it is. The threat, and you know exactly who it is aimed at. Your brother. Why else would he mention the pogues?

“And?”

His smirk grows, and he drags his hand over his jaw. “Well… the way I see it, Peach if it can’t be like old times, then JJ can be the one to pay off your dad’s debt.”

You wipe the annoyance from your face and cock your head to the side in confusion. “I didn’t realize you were that desperate for the affection of a Maybank, Barry.” Anger blooms across his face, but you do not let him stew or even speak as you set your shoulders back and glare at him. “Stay away from my brother.” You sneer at him, hands tightening around the basket handles so tight your fingers turn white. “Or so help me…”

“Or what?” He interjects, clearly fuming at your remark and not understanding the threat you want to throw at him. “What will you do?”

You smirk then, shifting the weight of the basket to keep it between you. “I’m not just a pretty face anymore. Don’t push me.”

“Or that kook boyfriend of yours will come save the day?”

“I don’t need Mav to save me.” You glare at him. “I didn’t need Rafe back then, and I don’t need Mav now. It took me a long time and a lot of shit to develop a voice. But now that I have, I refuse to remain silent.”

“Are you threatening to snitch, Peach?”

“Only if you push my hand,” you mutter before slapping his hand away as he tries to reach for you. “Hard to call in a debt when you are sitting in a prison cell. Go the fuck away.”

Barry smirks, enjoying your anger. Without even intending to you have played right into where he wants you. He tsks with a shake of his head after. “So unladylike.”

“Fuck you, Barry,” you seethe, shoving the basket at his chest, and he grabs it before it can drop to the ground.

You push past him, only pausing momentarily when you see Kelce, Rafe, and Topper staring at you both. Two of the three are amused at the show before them, but the center looks less than pleased. You push past them as well. The brush of your body against his has a twisting feeling launching in Rafe’s stomach.

“Don’t,” you mutter to Rafe, aware of how this looks.

You can imagine the wheels turning in his head at the scene that unfolded before him.

Once outside, you inhale sharply, sucking fresh air into your lungs as you try to remember where you parked. A panic over your worst nightmare unfolding. Barry and Rafe are in one place and ready to torture you. Without a doubt, you know you can defend yourself, but you would rather have someone with you like your brother or any of the other pogues.

“Hey,” Rafe’s hand encloses your upper arm when you try to step off the curb.

With the intention to get as far away from the store as you can, you do not see it, and Rafe is the only reason you are not crushed on the pavement as a car rushes past. You turn away from the street and into his chest, a shocked gasp leaving you as you grip his shirt tightly.

“You good?” He asks, his voice dropping lower, turning almost soothing. “You okay?”

“I needed to get away.” You quietly explain, hands pressing against his chest ready to create space. This looks bad, and you know it. Your body burns from his touch. Strong familiar hands graze your waist. “We shouldn’t be touching, Rafe.”

He scoffs, tightening his grip. “You almost just got yourself killed.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Rafe steps that last inch closer. Leaning over you, he continues to keep his eyes locked on yours. “I saved you. I did that.” His eyes are heated as he stares down at you. “You don’t have to be this with me.”

Defiantly tipping your chin back, you meet his gaze head-on, challenging him. “It’s better to be strong, than pretty and useless. Don’t you think?”

He is silent, not impressed with you in the slightest. Fragments of your shared history weighing on both of you.

You roll your eyes, starting to take a step back, but he does not let go. “I’m fine. Being run over is the least of my concerns.”

Rafe smirks, keeping you closer to him. “So are you going to do to Mav what you did to me then? Cheat with that dirtbag?”

You inhale sharply, heart squeezing at his accusation. “Our relationship ended long before I ever slept with Barry.”

He laughs, a dark maniacal laugh. “Yeah?”

“Rafe!” Topper calls from the doorway into the shop. “You coming or not?”

“Go,” you murmur, yanking yourself free as Rafe looks over his shoulder to his friend. “Your buddies are waiting. Like always.”

He turns back to you, watching you for any kind of flicker of regret he so desperately wants you to feel, but it is not there. “You should go back to your side of the island and stay there, y/n.”

“Fuck you, Rafe.”

“Whatever. Don’t come crying to me when Mav dumps you.”

You stare after him in shock as he storms off, back into the shop. Barry is at one of the many windows, watching you with a wide smirk, having witnessed the shambles of you and Rafe falling apart even more. There is already a crater between you, and it only seems to grow wider and deeper with each interaction.

The pogues can tell you are upset when you arrive with the provisions from another store. Your attention shifts solely to prepping dinner. Silence and chopping all they hear as they watch you from a distance. You can hear faint murmurs of worry and JJ trying to get them distracted from your mood. Arms wrap around you, and lips press to your face over and over. You freeze until Mav’s cologne invades your sense of smell. His chest is warm against your back. You had not even realized he had shown up, your thoughts scattered to the wind over your day so far.

“Are you okay?” His lips brush your ear as he quietly asks you.

You turn and close your eyes before burying your face in his chest. He holds you tightly, pulling you as close as he can get you into his chest.

“Was it Rafe?”

“No.”

And it is not Rafe. It is mostly Barry and his promise to harm JJ if it meant he got what he wanted.

“What do you need, Baby?”

“Help me finish dinner?” You ask, lifting your head to look at him. “Are you staying to eat?”

He grins, pecking your forehead. “If you have room.”

“Plenty of room!” John B calls, and you laugh, glancing at them sprawled around the living room. You smile, leaning against your boyfriend as you watch them for a moment. Mav notices the light in your eyes now as you watch them. His heart warming at the sight of your happiness.

“Happy to come home, huh?”

“Thrilled,” you murmur before pecking his lips. Then you turn your attention to your second brother, a teasing tilt to your voice. “Thank you, John B, for letting a kook crash our dinner night.”

He grins, peeling himself off the couch and coming in to grab a beer. “For you, anything.” He ruffles the hair on top of your head before glancing as JJ crowds into the small kitchen space.

“We like him anyways.” JJ teases, and you laugh, glancing at Mav. He winks at you, leaning against the counter and taking the beer JJ offers him.

You watch them for a moment, admiring their sibling-like bond. Your heart clenches at the thought of Barry getting his hands on your brother. Those blue eyes alight with happiness as he jokes with your boyfriend and John B and how quickly Barry would snuff it out if given the chance. Their laughter fills the kitchen until it fades out as they all register you watching them.

“Hey…” JJ moves closer, and you immediately blink back the tears before clearing your throat.

“You’re my brothers, until the end of time. Even after that.” You murmur quickly and pull them both into you for a hug. “Now,” you whisper, clearing your throat again before gently shooing them out of the kitchen. “Now leave me to make dinner.”

They laugh before both fall into an empty chair, and Mav crowds you again. His arms looping around your waist, chin parking on your shoulder. “What happened?”

You turn your face to look at him before sighing. “I ran into Barry.”

His face shifts, anger washing over his features. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, Baby, he didn’t.”

Mav sighs, his hand cupping your face. Palm warm against your skin.

“He threatened JJ.”

“What?!”

Instead of answering him, for a moment you press your face into his palm. Your lips brush just above his wrist. You try to calm your aching heart as you think about sharing this information with him. “He said that if it can’t be like old times… then JJ can be the one to pay the debt.” You look up at him, blinking away tears. “I threatened him. I promised him I would sell him out for his past crimes.”

Mav pulls you into his chest, his body wrapping around you to hold you close as you share the weight of your burden with him instead of your brother.

“Dinner is going to overcook,” you whisper against his chest after a few moments pass.

“Fuck it. We’ll order pizza.”

You laugh, and he joins in before pressing his lips to the crown of your head.

“Let me finish, and then after we eat, you and I will cuddle together in the hammock and watch these weirdos do stupid shit.”

Mav laughs again, and you giggle before pulling away and stirring both pots.

(Chapter Eight)

[missvelvetsstuff]

With Friends Like You, Who Needs Enemies?

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Reader is a mutant with the ability to turn sound into light who was 'adopted' aka stolen as a child by Baron Von Strucker to use for experimentation. She was given a form of the Super soldier serum so in addition to her mutant abilities she also has super strength, enhanced senses and healing. When he starts experimenting on his volunteers, the Maximoff twins, she tries to convince them to escape with her but they tell the Baron that she's planning to escape so he doubles her cell security. Steve and reader met when the team recovered Loki's scepter from Strucker.

She falls in love with Steve and becomes good friends with Nat but they aren't the friends she thinks they are.

This story is canon adjacent except that Thanos never happened.

Chapter 11

Warnings: swearing, angst, injuries

Notes: I'm totally obsessed with another story and have had a rough time writing because I'm too distracted. Sorry it took so long and I hope it's not terrible.

****READ 'Unwanted' by @scoonsalicious So good, seriously****

As Rainbow was wheeled away Bucky followed until Wanda stopped him. He flashed her a dirty look and tried to keep going.

Wanda stood her ground "I know you're worried Bucky, we all are but she will be in surgery for a bit so you need to shower and eat." She gently pulled him towards the residential wing "I'll whip up something for us to eat while you clean up. Then we'll go wait together." She looked at him with a soft smile and nodded.

Bucky sighed and nodded before going to his room, rushing through a shower and throwing on some sweats and a t-shirt. When he entered the kitchen, Wanda was already filling a bowl with stew and setting two warm biscuits on the side. He sat at the table with Sam and Tony, all eating without a word or even looking at each other as they tried to process what happened. Clint had gone home to Laura and his family, to mourn his friend and the woman he thought she was.

Helen Cho and Bruce were racing to repair the damage from the knife that Nat shoved into Rainbows gut. The knife was long, wide and serrated on one side so did more damage coming out than going in. Rainbow died again on the operating table and needed 2 pints of blood.

Once she wasn't bleeding out anymore Helen worked on the multiple cuts all over her face and body. Then she transferred Rainbow to the cradle to help her body heal itself.

It had been a few hours since they landed, everyone had eaten and most of the team was in the waiting area outside of the med bay when Helen came out with an update. All eyes turned to her.

Helen tried to smile reassuringly "Y/N is stable and has been moved to the cradle to help accelerate her healing. We had to remove her appendix and some of her large intestine but not enough to cause any long term problems. One of her ovaries was nicked and I tried but couldn't save it. That will affect her future fertility. We will have to see how she heals since she was given a version of super soldier serum. She will be unable to do any strenuous activity for at least a month. The first week or two will be on bed rest and a soft diet so someone will have to play nursemaid."

Everyone, including Helen, looked at Bucky who blushed and shrugged "Obviously I'm gonna take care of her, no question." He looked up at Helen "Can I see her?"

Helen nodded "Just for a few minutes until she is out of the cradle."

Bucky went to see her and he was glad to see that her color was improving. "I can't stay for long doll but I'll come see you when you can leave the cradle. I'll be in the waiting room, if you need anything."

He stared at her for a few minutes, his heart aching at the thought of how close he came to losing her.

Bucky went back to sit in the waiting room, just staring at the wall until Friday spoke up "Mr Stark? Captain Rogers is asking for you and threatening to tear his door off. Shall I tell him you're unavailable?"

Tony sighed and shook his head "No, I'll go talk to him. This oughta be fun."

Sam quickly stood, "I'll go with you." He patted Bucky's shoulder on their way out reassuring him "We got this."

When they arrived at Steve's room he could be heard yelling but they couldn't understand what he was saying.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose "Alright Friday, open up."

As soon as the door opened Steve tried to push his way past Tony and Sam who pushed him back into the room.

Steve was obviously pissed "What the fuck Tony? You hit me with a tranq dart and lock me in here for 2 days? What's going on? Did you find them? Is Natasha alright? I mean did she hurt Y/N?"

Tony scoffed "Don't be such a drama queen Capsicle, first it's barely been 24 hours. Second, it's telling that you asked about Nat first. We found them, Y/N is alive and out of surgery but will take awhile to heal. Nat is gone."

Steve tried to rein his temper in "What do you mean Nat's gone? Did she get away from you?" He almost sounded hopeful.

"Gone as in never coming back. She's dead and I can't bring myself to feel sad about it."

Steves eyes narrowed and "You killed her? What the fuck happened, Tony? How could you do that to her?"

Tony sighed "I didn't personally kill her but after what she did to Y/N and the absolute lack of remorse for the damage she caused the team, there wasn't much choice. Having her in the wind and able to come back and cause more trouble didn't seem like a great option."

Steve laughed sadly "Of course it wasn't you, you don't have the nerve to do something like that. Bucky did it, didn't he?" He clenched his fists.

Tony shrugged "Doesn't really matter at this point. She's gone and won't be back. Now we need to focus on Rainbow, she has a lot of healing to do."

Steve nodded "I'll go down to see her and-"

Sam shook his head "No, man, that's not happening. You need to leave her alone, you've already caused her enough trauma."

Tony nodded "Friday, please allow Rogers access to his room, the gym and the common area but absolutely not the med bay or Rainbows room."

"Of course Mr Stark."

Steve glared at both of them "You can't keep me away from her forever."

Tony smirked "Not forever, just until she's healed enough to join the discussion about your status in the team. Hopefully in a week or two."

"My status with the team? You gonna try to boot me too? I'll talk to Fury. I'm not going anywhere."

"Sure Cap. We'll see what the team decides."

Steve grumbled and went back into his room to sulk and plot. He spent the next few days stewing and working out, trying to find the angle to keep his place on the Avengers.

Rainbow was transferred from the cradle to a regular bed later that day and Bucky didn't leave her side, anxiously waiting for her to wake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N felt herself being dragged awake, like being pulled out of molasses, heard a beeping sound and smelled bleach. She felt lingering pain in her stomach and groaned before realizing that someone was holding her hand. She squeezed the hand and tried to speak which made her cough. She tried to open her eyes but it was too bright.

Then she heard him "Rainbow? Doll? Are you awake honey?"

She nodded and opened her eyes, squinting immediately "mmhhmm."

Everything was still fuzzy when she saw a blur with brown hair in front of her. She blinked a few times until she could see his ocean blue eyes looking her over.

Trying to ask for a drink made her cough again.

Bucky sat up and offered a straw for her to drink from. "Easy sweetheart, just sip so you don't shock your system."

Rainbow drank most of the water before trying to speak again, she looked him over carefully, noticing the tears in his eyes "Are you ok, Jamie?"

She closed her eyes as her head throbbed "I don't, I can't I....what happened?? I remember dancing and then. I was floating? Then pain."

Bucky squeezed her hands and chuckled softly "You've been out for almost a week and are worried about me? I'm just happy you're ok, you scared the Hell outta me doll. We almost lost you."

His voice choked.

Rainbow reached out to caress his cheek, feeling butterflies from how his eyes closed and he leaned into her touch.

"I'm ok I think. Still hurt in my belly. And my face feels tight." She paused to touch her face gently, there were multiple healing cuts "What happened? I really don't remember."

Bucky sighed "Dr Cho will be here in a minute. She can tell you the details but the short story is Nat kidnapped and tortured you, we saved you."

"What about Nat?" She asked quietly.

Bucky rubbed her hand "You don't have to worry about her any more."

Rainbows brow furrowed "What do you mean by that? Buck-"

Helen Cho entered the room "Hello Y/N, it's good to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

Y/N shrugged "Apparently like I was tortured by a crazy Russian assassin."

Helen chuckled "That's a fair assessment. What do you remember?"

"Nothing really. Dancing, floating, pain."

Helen nodded "Yes. You were drugged at the gala and she took you away to torture you. I've been told there were no demands made, she just wanted to hurt you. She pulled all your nails, made a number of incisions and impaled a large hunting knife into your torso."

Rainbow paled a little as a hazy image of Nat standing over her wondering if Bucky would still like her damaged, flashed behind her eyes. She felt her mind and her heart speed up, she started hyperventilating until Bucky soothed her "Rainbow, hey it's your Jamie. doll you're ok. It's all over and your safe back at the compound. I've got you. Just breathe with me."

Rainbow latched onto his voice and let it flow thru and calm her.

Helen made a note in her chart "I'm going to refer you for counseling, going through something like this can cause PTSD. We need to be sure you're ok before returning to active duty.

As far as the physical damage, your nails will grow back fine, the cuts on your face should heal without scarring. Your abdomen was a little more difficult but you're healing very well. The only really long term damage was the ovary that was nicked. I couldn't repair it and had to remove it. Now, you still have one left so should still be able to have kids if you want but it will be a little more difficult."

Rainbow sat quietly and took it all in, feeling overwhelmed.

Helen tried to reassure her "I know it seems like a lot but we'll take one step at a time and you'll be out chasing bad guys before you know it." She smiled at Bucky "You're lucky to have a very attentive and dedicated nurse."

Bucky blushed "Only right for a man to take care of his best girl."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks had passed since Rainbow woke up and she was back in her own room one morning when Tony came in to talk to her. "Looking good kid, I hear you're healing faster than expected.

Rainbow smiled "Well I have a top notch doctor, a very attentive nurse and the best health coverage in town."

Tony chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck "I hate to interrupt all the laying around and being waited on hand and foot but we need to have a team meeting to discuss Rogers. You're part of the team and the one most affected by his actions so we'd really like your input."

He looked at her hopefully.

She smiled "I knew we would need to deal with that whole thing eventually and it's not like I'm busy so just say when."

Tony smiled "Atta girl. Is lunch today ok? He won't be joining us until a decision is made."

She sighed "Sure, I just need to get cleaned up. What's for lunch?"

"Anything you want, doll." Bucky tossed out as he walked into her room, really it was their room but he still had his room even though he never slept there.

Tony glared at Bucky but it was a softer glare than he used to give the super soldier "No tinman, we're having a lunch/team meeting to discuss the status of your buddy as an Avenger. So let your girl take a shower and we'll see you in the dining room." Tony quickly left, calling Pepper to have her order lunch.

Bucky went to help Rainbow stand up, she took the hand offered with soft protests "Bucky, I'm almost better you don't need to wait on me hand and foot any more."

He pulled her up and close to him, kissing her softly before responding "Yeah but what if I want to wait on you hand and foot? What if I want my hands on you all the time? What if I want my hands, and my mouth, on every part of you all the time? Then what do we do doll?"

His eyes turned stormy.

Rainbow felt her face heat up and hoped Bucky didn't notice. "I seem to recall promises of a proper date and romancing." She flirted "We will have to find a way to accommodate you but let's get this meeting over with."

Bucky smiled "As you wish, muya lobov."

@vicmc624

Chapter 12

[blainesebastian]

it’s my party (and i’ll cry if i want to)

words: 1,829 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (anon request): angst and drama but ends well notes: thanks for the request! hope you enjoy :)  warnings: none tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff

You’ve called him three times and at this point, another time seems like overkill.

You’re usually not a person who overdoes it and granted, even this feels a little tame. You’ve called him over the span of a few hours, not all at once. It’s just, you had a bad feeling ever since you woke up this morning that things weren’t going to go your way. It’s your birthday, you were already a little apprehensive about celebrating it because nothing ever seems to go as you want it to, and when Austin promised he’d be home at a certain hour to celebrate, you took him at his word.

You know that dating an actor isn’t always smooth sailing, you know that he is sometimes, at the last minute, drawn into things he can’t get out of. Meetings, dinners, parties, events, mixers, whatever—you accept that, you understand, you’ve never put any pressure on Austin to somehow dip out of responsibilities just to spend time with you. You wouldn’t want to be that kind of girlfriend, anyways, that doesn’t support him? But at the same time, you just thought today would be a bit different.

A few days prior, you tried to tell Austin that you didn’t need anything special for your birthday—that you wouldn’t even be offended if they just moved through the week as if it was a normal day. But your boyfriend wouldn’t hear it, insisted that you deserved to be celebrated. And that sentiment is all well and good…as long as someone shows up to support those words and promises. You can’t believe you went from not wanting anything at all to somehow letting Austin talk you into deserving all the bells and whistles and now you’re pissed off that he’s late, MIA and that you can’t get ahold of him.

So ridiculous.

You are trying so hard, and failing, not to completely stew in your apartment because you understand that unexpected things can come up but that does not mean communication should just completely disappear? Then there’s the smallest part of you that’s worried because what if something awful happened and that’s why he’s not calling you back?

You wander over to your kitchen to get yourself a glass of water and look over at the door when you hear the familiar sound of keys turning in the lock. Setting the glass down, you watch as Austin comes in and toes off his shoes, the door closing behind him. Sticking his hands into the pockets of his black jean jacket, he turns to see you in the kitchen and offers you a small smile.

“Hey—you look nice.” He runs a hand through his jet-black strands, some refusing to move and reverting back to hovering over his forehead, “What’re you all dressed up for?”

You’re pretty sure your mouth falls open when he says that, “What do you mean what am I dressed up for?”

Austin sort of blinks at the tone of your voice before his eyes widen in realization, “Oh shit—no it’s,” He pats his pockets for his phone, slipping it out of his back pocket. “Fuck, I thought it was Tuesday.”

“It’s Wednesday.” You state with similar vinegar and just—you don’t want to be upset, you really don’t, you can see what’s happening right on Austin’s face. He’s lost track of the week, he thought your birthday was tomorrow, the man works long fucking hours and does exhausting things for his career that you can’t even dream of doing yourself.

And yet, you can’t find it within yourself to forgive him so easily either, something that you might otherwise brush off your shoulders—he forgot your fucking birthday. You cross your arms over your chest, trying not to boil but then Austin opens his mouth again and it’s like he’s trying to piss you off by saying all the wrong things,

“I’m so sorry—I got caught up runnin’ lines with Oliva and we just, ordered take-out—”

The thing is, you are not threatened by Austin’s beautiful co-worker, she’s nothing but sweet and completely supportive of Austin and your relationship. But it does rub salt in the wound, that he was eating dinner with another woman while you were waiting here feeling like a clown in your apartment for him to come home. And while you know that it’s not exactly fair? It still doesn’t make it hurt any less.

You put your hand up to try and just…stop this whole conversation because you feel like you’re going to lose your goddamn mind. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to do anything—my birthday is notorious for disappointing me one way or another. This is a new one though, so,” You toe off the booties you were wearing, starting to unzip your dress to get back into your comfortable clothes, “Thanks for that.”

Austin sighs softly, his one hand running over his face before pinching the bridge of his nose, “I said I was sorry.”

“Okay, and?” You throw over your shoulder, moving into your bedroom to take the dress off and put on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, “Saying you’re sorry doesn’t magically make everything better.”

Distantly, you have no idea why you’re trying to continue this argument with him. He’s apologized, it was a mistake, and you don’t even like your birthday that much anyways. And yet you know it has everything to do with that fluttering feeling inside your chest that this one might be different, that it might actually be enjoyable where you don’t feel like you might dread it next year, that Austin could make it…worth it. You hate feeling like you’re naïve, that the emotion was crushed inside of you when he didn’t show up and you waited and it felt like some sort of high school flashback where your date ditched you at prom.

You could just forget it, move on, maybe have a small celebration tomorrow.

But it’s your party and you’ll cry if you want to, right?

“Okay, well let me try and fix it?” He offers, leaning against the doorframe, “We could still make a night out of it—maybe sit on the roof? Order dinner?”

“You already had dinner.” You comment shortly, passing him. You need to get out of this damn apartment, get some fresh air before you really start saying things you might regret.

“Don’t follow me,” You warn, not even bothering at this point to put shoes on as you snatch at a jacket on the clothes tree near the front door and close it behind you as you leave.

--

Dramatic exit? One hundred percent, but it was feeling like the walls were closing in on you in that apartment. You just need to calm down, take some deep breaths, get the images out of your head of Austin running lines with Oliva, laughing with her, sharing take-out while you were calling his phone and waiting for him to come home. You know that Austin loves you, you trust him more than anyone, and despite tonight, your relationship is on very strong ground. You just…you’re jealous and annoyed that things played out as they did.

Shaking your head, you run a hand through your hair and make your way up to the roof of your apartment building. There’s a patio for tenants, lawn chairs, tables, even a couch and pool tables, beautiful view of the city. Just a great place to not feel so claustrophobic. If Austin wants to attempt to rebuild some bridges tonight, he can find you there—it’s one of your safe spaces.

Guilt pools in your stomach and you try to dismiss those emotions as much as you can because that’s the last thing you want to feel. Aren’t you justified in being pissed off? Ugh, maybe you shouldn’t have been so snappy. Or maybe it’s okay that you stood your ground for once.

While this inner battle ping-pongs back and forth in your mind, you push open the door to the roof after climbing the stairs—

And nearly have a heart attack when people suddenly yell surprise!

You stand there for a long few moments, almost like you might be having an out-of-body experience as you stare back at the crowd gathered on the roof and slowly recognize family members, friends, neighbors, co-workers.

This is a surprise party for you.

You take a step back out of instinct and bump into someone, turning to see Austin and your cheeks are suddenly so red, so hot that you’re pretty sure your shirt might catch on fire. “You didn’t…” You mumble, unable to find the rest of the words.

He smiles softly and sticks his hands into his jeans, “I would never forget your birthday.”

You shake your head, biting down on your lower lip so hard it could draw blood. How are you supposed to even look at him? So many dueling emotions are crashing over you like waves, your chest feels like it might cave in on itself. You don’t even know what to say.

“You were right, I was supposed to be here hours ago—I am sorry for that,” Austin sighs, “The cake I ordered got delivered to set in the wrong place and…it ended up in the food tent, so I was scramblin’ to get you another one. You’d think bein’ Austin Butler and everythin’ would make it easier ordering a cake.” He’s teasing with that last part, reaching to touch your shoulders with his hands, “I kinda had to improvise when I got home, get you to the roof.”

A choked laugh leaves your lips, rubbing at your own cheeks. Instead, you tore off the cute dress you were wearing, left the apartment in your around-the-house clothes and stormed on up here—

“Well, I’m here.” You sigh dramatically, head tipped back just a little.

Austin chuckles warmly, pulling you close to wrap you in a hug. Hopefully everyone behind you two on the roof can’t hear this scene unfold because you’re embarrassed enough. You already know your parents are somewhere recording and or taking pictures. You allow your eyes to close for a few moments, arms slipping around Austin’s back to hug him tightly, burying your face in his chest. He presses his lips to your hairline, squeezing you, his hands tracing circles into your spine.

“Happy birthday,” He says as you pull back. His hands move to cup your cheeks, stroking gently and smirking a little at the red splotches that must still be there.

There are so many things that you want to say or…to apologize for being snippy even if you didn’t know, for storming out, something anything. And yet, you lean up on your toes and press a soft kiss to his lips,

“No more surprise parties…ever again.”

Austin laughs, gently turning you around to push you out onto the roof and into the festivities, “No promises.”

[throneofsapphics]

Irene I am BEGGING you to give me some Manon & Nesta being in a poly relationship with the reader. PLEASE GIVE IT TO ME I NEED IT

Dating Manon and Nesta headcanons

Manon x Reader x Nesta 

Warnings: not proofread, some suggestiveness 

A/N: I’m trying this headcanon style, please bear with me, also if you want an nsfw version please let me know!

They would be SO competitive with each other, even over inconsequential things. Enough to drive you absolutely insane sometimes.You’d sit down with them and tell them to quit it … 

“We’re not that bad.” Nesta protested, glancing at Manon - who was stewing, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. 

“You got into a fight over who the cat likes better.” 

“There is no argument,” Manon snapped. “It’s me.”  Conveniently, said cat jumped right into your lap, turning around and purring before settling. 

“I think you’re both wrong,” you grinned, stroking the creature’s fur. Manon’s eyes narrowed as she glared at the tabby cat, and you could’ve sworn she mouthed, “traitor,” and looked to Nesta who had an identical expression on her face. 

The two would also be overprotective, to a fault sometimes. Anywhere you went, one of them would want to be with you - and if they couldn’t they’d want to know where you’re going, who you’re with, and what time you’d be back. It didn’t necessarily feel controlling to you and you could tell it came from a place of concern or care. They never stopped you from going out anywhere. If someone had the nerve to look remotely threatening to you, it would not end well for them. 

You were stumbling through the city streets, cheeks flushed from the alcohol with a cheery smile on your face, leaning on one of your friends. You saw Manon and Nesta towards the end of the road, and immediately let out a slightly-embarrassing squeal. Nesta’s mouth twitched up at the corners, and to any outsider Manon’s expression would look the same, but you saw how her eyes lightened the tiniest amount. You straightened, and started taking off ahead of your friends towards them. 

One yanked on your arm, drawing a yelp out of you as you stumbled back. “Wait I wanted to talk to you about -”  You didn’t find out what he wanted you to talk about, because he was pinned to the wall, Iron nails digging into his throat within seconds. 

“Manon,” you snapped, moving to try and pull her off. Nesta’s arm wrapped around your waist, tugging you back into her. 

“Touch her again, male,” Manon snarled, “and you’ll lose your arm.” 

He gave the tiniest of nods, and you tried to yell an apology, but he’d already darted off down the street, a few others following him. 

“It was good to see you, y/n.” One of your friends gave you a smile, and a respectful nod towards them, before heading off after him. 

“That was unnecessary.” You grumbled, and winced as you moved your shoulder. He had pulled rather hard. 

“You’re hurting.” Nesta said, carefully laying her hand on your other shoulder. “You should’ve done worse.” She commented, shifting her gaze to Manon. 

“No.” You snapped before the Witch could take off after him. “Take me home,” you followed, a bit more gently. She looked down the street, then at the blood on her nails, as if contemplating what it would feel like to rip out his throat, before giving a short nod. You exhaled slowly. Murder avoided, for the night. 

One of your favorite things is to watch them spar with each other, the sweat glistening off their muscles, Windcleaver and Ataraxia both twisting in a whirl of steel, half-hearted snarls directed at each other. Afterwards, you thoroughly enjoyed tugging them both right into your room.  

You and Nesta would call each other pet names, (darling, my love, beautiful) and Manon would make fun of you for it, so the two of you came up with the most ridiculous ones you could think of for her. 

“Baby pumpkin,” you called, wrapping your arms around Manon’s waist as she sharpened one of her daggers.

“What did you call me?” She said quietly, believing she’d misheard you at first.

“Is sweety-pie better?” You cooed. 

“It’s not.” She snarled, “I’ll cut your tongue out.” She ran the blade particularly harshly over the stone. 

“You like my tongue too much.” You could’ve sworn you spotted a light blue blush on her cheeks. 

Nesta would read smutty or romance books out loud to you, and in the beginning Manon would pretend she wasn’t interested, but the two of you noticed how she’d start paying more attention to specific books, and made a point to read those. 

The two of them fell in love with you first, and it took some time and lots of coaxing on your part for them to warm up to each other, but they slowly did.

It was your favorite thing to watch how they started falling for each other - Manon would bring home different books for Nesta, or slip in a few of her favorite flowers along with yours. Nesta would figure out what Manon’s favorite foods were and make sure they were always available. 

They’re both relentless work-a-holics, and you have to convince them to take days off at least once a week. A lot of times you resort to guilt-tripping or extra motivation, but you’re able to justify it to yourself. 

They SPOIL you. Like spoil you rotten, always bringing you home different things - whether it’s flowers, chocolates, a new dagger, a pretty bracelet, a kitten - anything you show the mildest interest in is going to end up with you. 

I feel like you’d all live in a scenic cabin somewhere, plenty of meadows full of flowers nearby for Abraxos, some space for a garden (that would grow wild because the three of you have no idea what to do with it and probably just threw some seeds in the dirt to see what happened), and a extensive library (at least for a personal one.)