#he cracked under pressure but i still love him hes so silly

[thescreaminghat]

love how carmine was like “dw ghost is an expert at cracking codes” and meanwhile ghost is trying to free tk like 

[simplyreveries]

"and then i go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like 'i love you'"

riddle rosehearts

riddle feels such a strange feeling in his chest, he hates it. he feels nervous as you make his chest squeeze and filled with pressure every time, you're near— it washes away as soon as you turn and talk to him. he feels frustrated because he finds himself unable to focus, unable to think clearly when all he sees you. you make him feel such a sense of comfort, he feels like he can fully let his guard down and tell you everything about him if you asked and it scares him. he has looked into how he is feeling, tried asking trey bashfully or read books, things online how he could possibly cope with this sickness.

more often than not he’s drawn to observing and noticing everything about you, your little quirks, expressions, comments, when your right in front of him now, laughing and talking freely amongst your friends around him happily helping out and cleaning up a little. he doesn't seem to be near nor saying a word but only mesmerized as he watches from a distance, he feels so much in a daze of this realization that he doesn't snap out when you walk over to him, he looks at you with a distressed look.

"... have you ever been in love?"

leona kingscholar

despite leona’s intelligence and knowing just exactly what he is feeling about you, he is stubborn at heart. he absolutely hates what you're doing to him, he can't even sleep and take a nap in peace without you invading his thoughts. it looks like he’s angry at you or frustrated, really but it's just him unable to handle the emotions you make him experience. he is infuriated with how he succumbs to the jealously that you make him feel when you're with others, that he feels need to want that attention back on him. still, you talk and find him, usually talking his ear off about something random and some event that occurred to you today.

he has his eyes closed but still listens to you. sometimes you’ll join a game of chess with him, to which he usually takes the pride in winning. he never really questioned as to why you're so persistent on befriending or even just being around him, perhaps you warmed up to him when he cracked and gave into letting you and grim stay at his dorm when yours was practically taken over. his demeanor around you is small, but noticeable. sometimes you'd tease and laugh, you tell him "you must love me" his eyes are kept on you with his eyebrows raised, but he wouldn't say anything to deny.

"do you really wanna make me say it?"

azul ashengrotto

azul finds his demeanor collapsing around you, when he tries to play his cool-headed, business oriented, cleverly scheming person with a smug grin that turns into a stupid smile because he finds himself too nervous around you and so happy being close to you. any attempt he makes to be "suave" around you, it only shows what a hopeless man he is. he feels like he has to look like he absolutely is perfect in front of you, how else would you fall for him? nevertheless, you always seem to be able to see right through him and he hates that. he doesn't want to feel vulnerable, its icky to him.

he watches you after hours in the mostro lounge as you hum and finish closing and cleaning up with him and some others, however now it only seems to be you and azul. he knows he shouldn’t be staring but he tells himself just a few moments more, he always found you under the lighting to be mesmerizing. he hears you telling him about something silly that happened while you were serving, he hears you but can't focus as his mind is running with a million thoughts, if you ask him what it is, he clears his throat and carefully adjusts his glasses, replying slowly.

“i just... love you”

kalim al-asim

his feelings hit so hard, as soon as he got them, he loved it and wanted more of the adrenaline and high of being completely enamored with someone. he loved all the little things that happens throughout the day that makes him so giddy and happy he thinks about it as he tries to sleep, excited for tomorrow to come to see you. kalim feels like he is literally your other half, always wanting to be right beside you.

he finds himself daydreaming quite often, of what it'd be like to be yours, even the thought of you giving him a kiss on the cheek has him flushed. of course, you’d find himself at his celebrations and parades he holds at his dorm. he'd always try to get you to dance, grabbing your hands and jumping up and down with you laughing at least. kalim feels like he can say anything to you and thats exactly what he does. he grabs your hands and bring it up to his face near his lips.

"i love you!"

vil schoenheit

he had his apprehensions; you were more so just someone he knew and eventually because dormmates during his stay with the others at ramshackle. vil had always seemed so drawn to you, if you notice him staring and give a nervous, confused look he'll smoothly adjust something on you. it looks like he can see right through you at times, it didn't take long for him to believe what a genuinely good soul you are in this school. when you and the others were dealing with the events that unfolded when dealing with idia and STYX, when vil had hugged you and pressed a kiss to your forehead he realized just how fully he was deep in this. he pulled away and stared at you for a moment with his hands gripped on your arms that took a longer to fully pull away.

you've sparked such an interest in him, he practically found himself becoming infatuated over time. you'll find yourself within his dorm as he carefully applies makeup to your face-- he adores doing but he can't help but feel amused with a smile creeping to his face when he feels how strangely intimate it feels between you too with him so close. he looks at you with the dreamiest daze, he'll pinch your cheek lightly before moving to grab something else.

"i cant believe i've fallen for you"

idia shroud

he stares and fidgets on his phone nervously, biting his already scarred lip-- he is staring at your contact. he wants to get it off his chest, he wants to get it out of the way if you're reciprocating and feel the same way to someone like him. ortho practically bugs him all the time to, confident and laughs even when he brings up the idea- ortho knows you and thinks idia will be successful and pleasantly surprised with your answer. idia hates that he can't help the way he feels around you, he feels a sense of relief and comfort when you're near- like he doesn't need to be absolutely on edge.

yet as soon as he felt that sensation around you, he eventually turned into his fear because of his infatuation he has around you only grew. he feels his mouth goes dry and struggles to finds something to say when he's looking right at you. you'll still see his moments where he's rambling about something he built or a media he is enjoying but he grows back more into his shell of anxiety when he realizes how much he feels. he considers you perfect and honestly, far out of his league. there was no one someone like you would possibly fall for someone like him. still, idia has found himself to be a pathetic mess when it comes to you and quickly presses send.

"I think i love you"

malleus draconia

surprisingly, out of all of them - i feel like its him that falls for you the quickest. he found himself to be so smitten with you as soon as he accidentally stumbled upon you when it was unbeknownst to him that you were living in the ramshackle dorm now. he admires you, you've shown anything but fear around him and made him feel seen. he truly believes its fate that you somehow found yourself all the way to twisted wonderland and you two had met each other, he tends to find his mind drifting and thinking about that a lot. despite you possessing no magic, he still sometimes will tell you even before confessing that you must hold something. malleus won't give you an exact answer as to why he thinks that yet– being playful and mysterious as he quietly laughs to himself. you stumbled into this unknown world and made him this infatuated. he can't take his eyes off of you during the nights you find yourself talking to him, he watches you look at the nature, as he often shares you the beauty of it in the late hours.

"you've bewitched me, havent you?"

[bunni-v1]

relating to your last ask that included arguments between shadow milk and his lover, i cannot get the following picture out of my head:

his doll, while a bit (a bit more) off-put by the whole truthless recluse situation, is very much "whatever, their soul jam, their business" about it

however-

what grinds their gears is the fact that kids (aka the gingerbrave gang) are involved

i can just imagine them going off on shadow milk like "listen, i get it, your plans but they are kids. literal children?? keep them out of this-" "no, doll, listen, they're scheming kids-"

ik this isn't really an ask, but i just wanted to share it :)) love your writing, you're amazing, and your shadow milk headcanons live rent free in my brain (actually i am paying them-)

Lolololol (Feel like a mysmes character typing ts... okay), I guess we can say this is ur rent. I'm happy for your payment though, it's good food for thought my love! Have a little midnight snack as a treat!

Just imagine you're someone who's more compassionate. It's something that Shadow Milk Cookie cherishes about you... when it's directed at him. You're always worrying over him and his little henchmen, Candy Apple especially since she's so young. It's annoying, but it's sweet how much you dote on them, and he can't say he dislikes the idea of you in a more parental role...

It becomes an issue when those little pests come around. You've never nosed your way into his business at all, leaving things between him and Pure Vanilla to be what they are. He prefers it like that, keeping you out of trouble was always a positive on his mind. Oh, but then those cute little annoying snotty nosed brats come along and ruin everything.

It wouldn't have been an issue if you hadn't overheard him threaten to drown them. It not like he was actually going to, he was just poking at Truthless Recluse, that's all. You didn't take it though, you were all kinds of pissed off at him.

He thinks it's a silly thing to be upset about, you know he didn't care enough about those kids to do much of anything to them. Yet, you remain upset, even after things are done and Compassionate Pure Vanilla has TEMPORARILY taken him and his plans down. It stumps him, he can't possibly wrap his mind around what's gotten into you. Such a small insignificant act is nothing compared to half of what you've seen him do.

When you refuse to say more than a few words to him, he starts to worry. What did he do wrong? Well, you told him, but why was it so bad this time? The best answers come from the source, of course, but getting it out of you might be a little harder than he likes.

"Doll? Dolly? Little star? Won't you talk to me?" He pouts, trailing behind you like a lost puppy.

You might've teased him if you weren't so upset now. You keep your nose upturned, doing your best not to crack under his relentless pressure. He could be so persistent about these things, and normally you would give, but he'd crossed a line this time. You didn't mess around with children, and he should've known better.

A drawn-out sigh comes from behind you, "Are you still upset about the drowning thing? It was all in good fun I promise! Nothing to worry your pretty little head over!"

He didn't know better, though. For the former fount of knowledge -- and someone who could literally read minds if he wanted to -- he was terribly unaware sometimes. It made you so angry, and you felt bad for being angry because he really didn't get it.

"They're just insignificant little kids, it's a silly thing to be angry about." He continues, and oh that gets a reaction out of you.

You turn around to face him, the boredom in his expression only making that anger bubble up more and more. You really can't hold it in anymore.

"Exactly, they're kids! Just kids, they don't have any stake in this. Why couldn't you let well enough alone for once!" You shout, and it feels so good to get out. Pettiness aside, you'd wanted to get it through his head since this all started.

You watch his face shift through surprise and annoyance and then flatten into an unreadable expression. It was unsettling to see, especially pointed in your direction. Still, you tried to stand your ground, though you'd never felt so small next to him. He lets the silence linger in a purposeful move, you're not sure why. It keeps you on edge the whole time, unable to tell what his next move might be.

"Dolly, they were in my way, I had no choice-" He starts, but you've had enough of the manipulation and sitting quietly.

"What threat are children to you?" Your voice breaks halfway through the sentence, tears you didn't realize were building pouring over your cheeks, "You are so frustrating sometimes. In what universe would I ever be alright with hurting children? Sometimes it's like you don't even know me!"

You don't realize he's in front of you until he's lifting your face in his hand with uncharacteristic gentleness. His face is still flat, but you see the worry shining behind his eyes.

"Y'know you shouldn't lie to the literal embodiment of deceit," He says quietly as he brushes your tears away.

You know you shouldn't, but you laugh a little at that, "I'm sorry. I'm just upset."

"No, really?"

"You don't get to joke around right now," you scoff with a halfhearted shove at his shoulder.

He hums, leaning into your vision so you have to look at him, "It's making you smile, though."

"Shadow Milk Cookie."

"Okay, okay. I get the message," He backs off, "Just don't cry anymore, please?"

You smile, "Maybe if you promise not to involve those kids more than you have to, please?"

He seems to think it over like it was a hard decision. He doesn't think much longer when you flatten a glare on him, "Alright, it's a promise! You can look at my fingers, they're not crossed either! I'll keep my word!"

You scoff at him, "What do I see in you?"

"My charm and wit, of course!" He puffs up like a proud cat, the usual grin back on his face.

"Just kiss it better you dummy!"

"Whatever you ask for, you shall receive, my little star!"

And kiss it better he does, until you can hardly remember why you were so mad at him to begin with.

[tinylilacbun]

Okay, so I had a silly thought. And no pressure to do it, I don’t even know if you’re taking requests lol. But if you are what about sister or daughter reader who wakes Rafe up in the middle of the night because she peed in her dream? I feel like he would be so upset, but then as soon as he saw the tears in her eyes he tells her that it’s okay and that he’s not mad and it’s not her fault and just like reassuring her and stuff like that, and then gives her a bath and gets her all cleaned up, then let’s her sleep in the bed with him?

Rafe groans tiredly when he feels something poke his cheek repeatedly, clumsily using his hand to wipe away what bothers him from his peaceful slumber only to hear a familiar whine.

"Daddy..." You whimper, reaching up to open his eyelids with your fingers gently. "Daddy, up."

He grunts, finally catching your wrist in his hand and pulling it away from his face as he cracks an eye open, glancing at the alarm clock on his nightstand.

3:27am. Fucking hell.

"Why are you up, kid?" He rasps, pinching the bridge of his nose as he starts to wake up some more.

You frown, shuffling on your feet nervously as you're embarrassed to tell him why you woke him up in the first place. "I-I hads ta go potty..."

"And?" He looks back at you, lifting an eyebrow in confusion.

"Mmm...I-I dids in bed." You mumble, now feeling ashamed of yourself. "M'sowwy-"

"Goddamnit- not again." He groans, throwing his head back against the pillow, regretting that he caved in when you begged him to go sleep without a nappy because you're 'a big girl now!'.

He should have listened to the doubt in his head but he just wanted to get you to bed finally and it seemed like the fastest way to just give in.

You feel even worse now, the tears falling before you can stop them and a sob forcing its way out. "I s-sowwy, daddy."

At the sounds of your sobs Rafe finally sits up in his bed with a sigh, throwing his legs over the edge as he turns on the lamp on his nightstand to see you better, his heart aching at the sight of your distraught state and the way you make grabby hands for him.

"It's- it's okay, c'mon, let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" He says softly, cupping your face he leans down to press a kiss to the top of your head before he stands up, grabbing your little hand in his and leading you to his bathroom.

He quickly gets the bath set, getting you out of your soiled pajamas before lifting you into the tub, handing you one of your ducks and leaves you alone for a moment to get fresh set of clothes for you, not bothering to change your bedsheets as he'll deal with that tomorrow.

When he come back he sighs at the way you still have your head bowed in shame. "Hey..." He kneels back down beside the bathtub, placing a finger under your chin so you meet his gaze. "I'm not mad at you, not at all. I'm really proud of you for coming to me. You're still my big girl."

You sniffle a little. "Weally?"

"Yeah, you are, I swear." He smiles at you and it makes one finally form on your face as well, feeling him wipe the few tears away that cling to your skin.

After you're all clean and dressed in a pajama again together with a nappy Rafe picks you up, cradling you against as he makes his way towards his bed, your plushie already waiting for you as well as a spare pacifier. "You can sleep in daddy's bed tonight."

You wriggle in his arms slightly with happiness, loving the rare nights where you get to cuddle with him all night and you even got him all to yourself because Sofia isn't here for the night like she usually is.

Rafe carefully throws you onto the bed, chuckling at the way you giggle and roll on the sheets to get comfortable in the middle, sliding in beside you and making sure you're tucked in after you snuggle against his chest, kissing your forehead. "G'night, sweetheart."

"Nigh nigh, daddy...luv you." You mumble into his shirt, grabbing onto it with your hands and let him slip your pacifier in your mouth.

"I love you more..."

[kumasakka]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐍 ! ❞

⋆.˚ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. asakura shin x reader .

⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. even during the adversity between you two, you should never doubt his love for you again.

⋆.˚ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. ~1.2k words .

⋆.˚ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. ardet sine fin — (n.) »burns without end« passion that endures, fueled through adversity. crack. hurt with comfort. f!reader. old married couple trope. safe for minors ! crappy writing. shin and sakamoto may seem ooc. cross-posted on wattpad.

　"STOP nagging me, woman..." the boy rolled his eyes before hissing at the stinging pain.

"Call me what?" you added extra pressure against his open wound, the piece of cotton getting tainted by his blood.

It didn't stop there — with 'it' you mean the little fighting and scolding. Oh damn, you sounded like an old hang just like Shin said. Sakamoto was also forced to listen to the bantering at the other end of the room. Yeah well until, he closed his eyes and began sleeping, not wanting to listen how you two were acting like some old married couple. He even requested earplugs like the old man he is.

"Can you not be a little more gentle?" Shin complained, tears welling up in the corner of his eyes, "please— Ouch! Hey!"

"You're such a baby." you narrowed your eyes as Shin squirmed under your grip.

"I'm sorry that it hurts!?"

"It wouldn't hurt in first place if you were more careful!" you wrapped the bandage around his arm, tightened it so it would suck up his blood.

"You act like an old woman, stop that." he knitted his eyebrows in annoyance as he bit his lip, watching you mishandle his delicate body hurts in his eyes. See

"So I should stop carrying about you?" you raised a brow.

"No— Yes!"

"Ugh." you took a needle into your hands, "I'm seriously going to stab you to death with this."

"Yeah sure, you do."

"Take care of your body. It's getting unhealthy."

"I will try."

"Don't try, you should do it." you glared at him.

"Sometimes it's inevitable." he shrugged his shoulders as if he didn't care an ounce about his body. "Sometimes I can't avoid getting hurt."

"Sometimes." you repeated, putting more weight into the word, "try living like a normal adult."

"Hard." he replied.

"Not impossible." you countered, "I mean Sakamoto-san still pulled it off. Man has a wife and a daughter, even owns a store.

"Wife and daughter..." he repeated, the image stuck in his head.

Maybe he will have a daughter one day. And hopefully you're the mother.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing!" he choked on his own saliva before coming back to the topic, "[name], a little reminder that it's the former legendary assassin we're talking about."

"Mmh he still is a human." you began stitching his wound.

"Of course he was able to pull it off. I can't do that from today to tomorrow."

"Try it then, silly." you sighed out.

"I'm not silly!"

"Just accept the truth."

There are days you're extremely mean to him. Like — above mean. And there are less days where you show how much you care. There are also days where you two don't interact at all.

Of course he will doubt the relationship between you and him — in his eyes, it seemed like your relationship is on the verge of its end.

A flower that is about to wither.

Yes. He does think that. But one thing he won't doubt though, are his feelings. He loves you, no doubt. Just like how Sakamoto loves Aoi and also how Aoi loves Sakamoto.

One thing he does doubt though? Your feelings. He isn't even sure if you still feel the same for him, compared to the beginning of this all.

Do you love him?

Silence. Awkward silence. Shin watched you but you didn't bother lifting your head. He assumed you were just focused on stitching up his wound. Was he too mean towards you? Should he just endure the rest of the treatment without letting out another sound? Maybe he really should keep his mouth shut. Maybe a look into your mind would explain some things?

"Shin?" your voice grabbed him out of his senses.

"Y-Yes?" he spluttered out, stuttering at that. The heck? Did he just stutter?

"I'm tired." you admitted and cut off the strings, tying it together.

Tired of the relationship?

"Of what?" his voice sounded more fearful than he intended to.

"Worrying about Sakamoto-san and most importantly you, makes me tired." you still didn't meet his gaze yet.

"Sorry..." he apologised. Yet he wasn't sure — what was his apology for?

"...You two always leave without a trace and then Aoi-san has to assure me that you two are fine." you started, "and the moment you show up again, you two look like you're on the verge of death."

"Sorry." this time, the apology sounded a lot more firm.

"I feel stupid for patching you two up." your eyes stay glued to the scissor in your hands, "maybe I should stop and let you bleed to death so I don't have to worry anymore."

"W-Wait what?!" he exclaimed.

'I hate you so much.'

He heard, dreams coming crushing down. His heart felt heavy, heavy enough to drop into a depth. A clump was stuck in his throat, he can't talk yet.

'Why can't he listen for once? Does he even care about my feelings? That stupid—'

Almost. He almost choked. Did you think the same?

'Perhaps he just doesn't care that I'm on the brink of death because of my worries. It's getting unhealthy. Maybe... Maybe I should take a pause of this. Of this relationship?'

"[name]." your name sounded weird on the tip of his tongue. The affection he held for you made it weird. When was the last time he called you this lovingly?

"What?" your reply bit him like a snake would.

He didn't continue further, his hand finding its way to yours. It felt like the typical — his hands were rough and calloused while your hands were a lot softer and had a touch of warmth. It displayed your childhood. He had a rather awful one, full of blood and coldness. Your childhood was another type of different.

"I'm sorry for worrying you to the brink of death..." he started slowly, "next time, I will make sure you know beforehand. Where I'm going and why I'm going. I'm going to try my best to not come back with wounds. But sometimes I really can't avoid getting hurt."

[e/c]-coloured eyes met black ones. You finally lifted your head, he was able to take a glimpse of your face. His expression looked firm and serious while you held uncertainty on your face.

"Forgive me if it seemed like I didn't care about your feelings." he continued.

"Stop... Or else I will regret it."

"Regret loving me?" he whispered. "I'm sorry. I never intended to make you regret."

He raised your hand to cover the back of it with gentle kisses, not caring if your hands were tainted with his blood. Because you always held his hand that was covered with the blood of others.

But at least he repents by being a better man than yesterday. He tries to repent for his sins. So perhaps he can go to heaven with you.

"I can promise you one thing though." he said against your hand.

"Promise what?" your voice was so quiet, almost breaking.

"Asakura Shin promises [lastname] [name] that one day, I will be a better man than I am today. Someone you can be proud of and someone you don't have to worry about. And then I will live a normal life as an adult with you as my wife.

"Stop being so cheesy." you huffed, hot cheeks betraying your thoughts though.

Right yes. His love for you burns without end and gets fueled even through adversity.

SHIN LOVES YOU ENDLESSLY.

© 2024 kumasakka — do not plagiarize , copy , modify , translate our work !

a/n's note — I'm sosososo sorry it only followed half of the request! AHHH I JUST WENT WITH THE FLOWWWW and smh the ending is so corny. gng I should just stop writing 🥀

[pahtoosh]

clingy Baba

[image ID: a gif of Bucky smiling and laughing made by tumblr user RansomFlanagan. /.end ID]

masterlist

18+

wc: ~600 words

warnings: lots of touch! Baba may have a little 🤏 problem but he’s not going to do anything about it🤭

a/n: this is inspired by the piece Attached at the Hip by @angelbaby-fics ! please go read it and support the incredible writer, Chloe! (love you Chloe☺️ mwah mwah)

pairing: stucky x gn!little!reader(mostly bucky hehe) Dada = Steve, Baba = Bucky

summary: a couple times where your baba’s clinginess got the best of him

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Both of your daddies loved cuddling and kissing you at every chance. Steve exercised some restraint. He wouldn’t disturb you if you were totally focused on something and often looked for you to initiate some sort of touch. Bucky, on the other hand, did not hold back. Ever.

~

Baba often interrupted you while you were coloring. Sometimes it’d be okay and you would return his kiss or be so distracted that you didn’t even notice. Other times..

*kiss*

“Baba! I was colorin’ dat”

“Oh, sorry baby!” He kissed you a few more times on the cheek as an apology. “Baba’s sorry I messed up your coloring.”

“Hmph. Da lines are all messed up.” You crossed your arms and frowned at him.

Bucky wouldn’t crack under the pressure of the best interrogators in shield, but he melted at one scornful look from you.

“What can Baba do, huh?” He sat on the floor and enveloped you in his arms. Another kiss to your head. “How can we make this little baby happy again?”

As much as Bucky was soothed from your touch, you were soothed from his too.

“It’s okay, Baba. Know it was a accident.” You pressed a kiss to his jaw.

Bucky whooped and jumped up with you still in his arms. “I’m forgiven!” He continued cheering and tossing you in the air and catching you.

You laughed gleefully. Steve, who was watching you before Bucky came in, smiled and shook his head at his two silly loves.

Bucky saw the movement from the corner of his eye. He caught you in his arms one more time.

“Uh oh, looks like Dada’s missin’ out.” He whispered. “Are you thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

You nodded before shouting, “Kiss attaaack!”

~

Steve had just put you down for a nap. He cuddled you to your heart’s content and carefully snuck out of bed when you were fully asleep. As much as he’d love to nap with you, he had some chores to do and he knew it’d be good for you to become an independent sleeper.

About twenty minutes later, he went to check on you and started to worry when he saw your door cracked open. Steve always shut the door for your naps to keep out the noise. He set down the broom and ran to your door only to find Bucky removing you from your blanket cocoon. It took your Dada at least five minutes to perfect that cocoon.

Bucky hummed while he situated you in his arms.

“Hmm, hmm someday I’ll wish upon a star, and wake up where the clouds are far behind me.”

“Buck. They’re sleeping.”

Baba had the nerve to look offended at Steve’s presence. He covered one of your ears with his free hand.

“I know that, keep your voice down.”

“Why are you singing a lullaby?”

“They love Over the Rainbow, it helps them sleep.”

“Okay but they didn’t need help sleeping if they were already asleep, right?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes and turned around, continuing to sing softly and sway with you in his arms.

While he wanted to stay true to his caregiver instincts, Steve had to admit that it looked pretty cozy getting to hold you like that. He joined Bucky’s humming and wrapped his arms around his lover’s waist as they both rocked side to side with you.

Still fully asleep, a small smile appeared on your face. Even while unconscious, you knew that you were safe and so loved.

[tonycries]

as my calling card might imply, i am, in fact, here for the bit. i love me a good goof during sexy times. a silly haha amidst the devil’s cha-cha, if you will. and i’m a switch myself. these two facts coincide more than you might think

so like. hear me out (bc this mental image keeps cracking me tf up): reader tells the jjk men they want to try something new, but they won’t tell the men what it is, and they want it to be a surprise. the jjk men agree (with varying levels of reluctance, of course)

~

he’s surprised, after this, when reader initiates surprisingly vanilla sex, in which reader is being a sweet, obedient sub in a simple missionary pose. it’s lovely, sure, but not at all what the jjk men expected!! and they’ll take the reader any way they can get em, but it’s… odd.

so the reader’s being so cute, mewling and moaning and begging so sweetly, hands slowly sliding up the bed towards the pillows at the very sensual lovemaking session. and he’s too focused on the reader’s pretty face looking all cockdrunk and needy to notice their hands going under the pillows.

a moment later, the reader is pushing up to catch him in a doting kiss, quickly wrapping their hands around his neck and peppering him with such sweet little pecks. and he starts to let his eyes flutter closed, melting into the gentle affection—

clink.

he blinks his eyes open in confusion at the feeling of something soft and think around his throat, surprised to see a leash coming into focus. and at the end of it, still sprawled so heavenly on the sheets with a devilish grin, is you, twirling the loop of expensive leather around your finger.

“what—?”

“bark.”

~

listen there’s something so inherently funny to me about telling someone to bark with zero warning (ESPECIALLY if they do it). i will crack up without fail any time it comes up

-🃏

WOAHHHHHHHH THAT PLOT TWIST HOLD ONNNN-

You have my jaw dropped and my legs wide open, don't think you're getting outta this one easy. Come BACK and finish this for us 😈 (no pressure and only if you want, ofc <3 BUT STILL-)

[theartkid15]

Large compile of Tre head cannons bc why not? ☕️🧥🔎📝

THE OG:

Has the worst sleep schedule known to man because he either is staying awake doing assignments and paperwork, or is just stressed out.

Mumbles to himself a lot and it gets him in trouble sometimes.

Like I’ve said before- GIFTED KID BURN OUT, he still holds onto the fact he has a promising future and potential even though he is running himself into the ground.

Forces himself to be excel in every subject but likes math and science more than anything. It just makes sense to him, numbers make sense ( mini hc that his love for science began his rivalry with Stone)

Has a hard time seeing different perspectives from other people, which is frustrating.

He isn’t heartless, but has a lack of empathy for scraps, and a fixed mindset of them, thinking how easy their life could be if they just applied themselves or get a job.

He instantly gives up on something if he isn’t good at it right away.

He drinks coffee for the caffeine boost, not the taste, he loads his coffee up with sugar and cream till it’s more sweetener than coffee.

Can only feel accomplished if he gets any sort of praise or acknowledgment from his parents.

Even though he is forced into musical theatre by his mum, he enjoys it a bit since it’s fun. He especially enjoys it when he snags a leading role.

He needs glasses desperately but his pride just won’t allow it.

Modern AU!!!!!

Take one look at him and tell me he is not a teachers pet or a nerd.

His outfits and wardrobe pull inspiration from the light academia aesthetic, but there is also just random a$$ super hero graphic tee shirts.

He wants to be popular so bad but not for himself, for his parents. But Tre simply doesn’t like being around that kind of crowd, so he hangs out with the other losers.

He would absolutely DOMINATE in forensic science ( coming from a person who loves forensic science)

Doesn’t play video games at all, never touch a game controller in his life. But he enjoys comic books and his guilty pleasure is fantasy novels, tv shows, and movies.

Probably felt so embarrassed taking a French class since he is French himself, his teacher was on his a$$ about it the whole year too.

High chance he was probably bullied at some point.

Coffee for a regular day, tea to relax, energy drinks for finals season.

The only one in the friend group with the ability to drive a car safely.

Hang outs probably happen at his house more often than not bc, he is rich.

Already knows that following in his dad’s footsteps to be a cop is only going to make him miserable but it’s too late to back out now. But he would still like to work in this line of field, like forensic science, or forensic psychology.

Swap AU I guess?? Just scrap Tre

Gifted burn out kid. 2.0 but the burn out finally caught up to him.

Steals enough money for a cup of coffee every single day, no matter what.

How did he end up on the streets? Either a large argument with his dad that got him kicked out, or he cracked under pressure and ran away.

He is free, but he isn’t the happy about it.

#1 complainer about being a scrap. “ it’s so cold” “ it’s too hot”” I need new clothes I’m filthy “, and so on.

Possibly uses his musical theatre skills to good use, and goes out to entertainment square/ district to make a few bucks. But only when he is really, REALLY desperate.

Has the worst time evading the police because of his ties to his dad, literally has a heart attack trying to run away.

Trying and failing to teach himself parkour.

Literally at his lowest points, he visits Dante’s bar for a drink.

Befriended an alley cat, named her Eva and feeds her when he can.

That’s all for now, all the art is from the creator of Ramshackle, ZeddyZi.

I just really love this silly man and he is literally so me, I better see his a$$ if there is a second episode of Ramshackle

-🪻💜🔮☀️🌞💫⭐️🌙✨🪐

[c0la-queen]

I absolutely LOVE your writing, it's so nice to see eddsworld content especially this good <33 can I request Tord with a very shy partner? No pressure ofc, take your time!

Thank you!!! My neurons were absolutely firing with this piece, for realsies. It may not be exaactly what you envisioned? And I was trying not to make the Reader be the stereotypical "uwu im so shy sowwy" kind of shy? You know what I mean? Either way, I hope you enjoy, and if its not quite what you wanted, PLEASE feel free to send me an inbox message letting me know !!!

Run, Rabbit, Run. | Tord x Shy! Reader

Warnings: Mostly Tord's POV, not the fluffiest? it has a happy ending, but Tord is naturally a kind of fucked-up person.

---

Tord had a problem.

He doesn't have problems often, and certainly not problems he can't solve.

It wasn't every day that he wanted to be around someone - craved it. He acted like he only tolerated his roommates, kept the truth locked away under thick layers of steel.

But you. He sought you out, needed you like it ached. Your presence.

You, however, ran from him. Every time. Fled like a rabbit that had caught a glimpse of the stalking wolf. Scurried back to your burrow, safe and protected by densely packed earth. Where he could not reach you. It grinded at his patience, made him clench his jaw hard enough to crack a tooth. He walked into a room, you found an excuse to walk out. It was a constant among the chaos and unpredictability of their house.

The one thing that he needed like a dying man, and he couldn't have it. You wouldn't give it to him.

A problem.

He was going to fix this problem, if it meant the death of him.

And who was he but a stubborn man?

--

His opportunity came during a lazy Sunday afternoon.

The other three were all out, running errands and such. You were still home. Doing laundry, from the sound of it. He wasn't surprised, you liked to use Sunday as the day to do your household chores, reset for the coming week - not that he had been paying attention to your habits. No. Just coincidence.

From the garage, he could hear you. The wall that his workbench sat against was one that was shared with the laundry room, so it wasn't difficult. If he sat still, focused enough, he could practically imagine it. You, in your crop t-shirt and little sleep shorts that you always wore when you did laundry. Hair pushed out of your face. Dancing along to the music that he could hear playing from your phone - doing those silly, awkward dance moves that you did when you thought nobody was looking.

He wanted to be there. It was selfish, he knew. But that little undamaged piece of him sitting in his chest longed to join you. Insert himself into the little life that you had carved out for yourself in their house. Slot his own being so nicely beside your peace and quiet. You were so… unlike him. You were soft, sweet. Like the skolebrød of his childhood. You were vanilla and sugar. Unmarred by anything horrible in the world. That self-centered part of him wanted to take. To clamp his jaws down around your hind legs and sink his teeth in when you tried to escape.

Tord was moving before he even realized it.

You had moved out of the laundry room. Your music faded as you walked further into the house. If he remembered correctly (That phrase tasted bittersweet on his tongue. As much as he craved you, he didn't want to admit how actively he was chasing you. A wolf that resented the rabbit.) you would set about doing the dishes after depositing your empty laundry basket in your bedroom.

His mouth was dry. So he moved to the kitchen. To get water. (That's what he would tell you. That's what he would tell anybody who asked.)

The switch from the garage to the house was always jarring to the senses. The garage was cold, unprotected from the autumn chill. But the house was warm. Welcoming. Safe. (You were inside.) It was like sitting under a hot shower after catching hypothermia.

He stopped in the doorway.

There you were. In the kitchen. Dishwasher open. Your smartwatch was discarded on the kitchen table alongside your phone and water bottle. Music was still playing from the device's speakers. You were, just as he guessed, wearing your crop tee and shorts. (The collar was hanging low on one of your shoulders, bearing the skin to his vision. His hands itched.) You hadn't noticed him yet. Little rabbit unaware of the danger that lurks in the forest underbrush.

It was something beautiful watching you in your own little world. In public, you were so small. Reserved. Put a cork on your personality so that nobody could truly see who you were. To you, it felt like security. If nobody had access to your identity, then nobody could take it away. Nobody could judge you. Even home, with the boys, you were less than yourself. Not to the same degree, but still limited. They didn't take offense to it, they knew it wasn't you distrusting them. It's just how you were. But here, when you thought you were alone? The cork was removed and he loved to watch the bottle overflow.

You spun on your heel and nearly dropped the bowls in your hand from how hard you flinched at the sight of him. He could see the way that you drew in to yourself, made yourself smaller.

"Oh, um, hey. Tord. I didn't… realize you were home."

There was something tight in his chest at the way you looked so nervous. You shifted in your spot, looked anywhere but at him. He wanted you to look at him.

"I am."

You only answered with a soft 'oh' before turning back to the dishwasher. He remained still, watching. Clearly, you were looking for a way out, a chance to flee. Something he wasn't going to let happen.

"I should probably-"

"You keep avoiding me."

Your head shot up, looking up at him with wide, pretty eyes. He dug his fingernails into his palms.

"What? No, no I haven't- I haven't been-"

"Do not lie to me."

It was cruel, yes, but it gave him the desired effect. You clammed up immediately. Shoulders slumped. Gave him just a little inch, but that was all he needed to take a mile. He stepped closer. You stepped back.

A snarling, drooling, hungry wolf, closing in on its prey.

Your back hit the counter. He stepped forward again.

A trembling little rabbit, cornered with nowhere to go.

He stopped a foot away from you.

"I have tolerated this for months. For months I have watched you run from the sight of me alone. As if the very idea of being in the same room as me is too much for you to bear. Do you even have any idea what you do to me? Do you know how it kills me?"

He could feel the way that you tensed up. A spike of anger stuck into his chest, burning hot. You weren't looking at him. You were looking at your shoes again. He forced his words out of his throat in the form of a growl.

"For fuck's sake, look at me. Look at- Look. At. Me."

Frustration boiled over, bubbling and spilling over the sides of the pot and he wasn't able to put the lid on it fast enough. He reached up and grabbed your jaw, holding it firmly between his index and thumb. Forced your eyes to focus on him. Only him.

A sick part of him preened at the little gasp that came out of your throat.

But you kept your eyes on him. Good girl.

"Tell me why you have been avoiding me."

His voice was softer now. He hated how much pain he could hear in it. How it trembled. He had hoped you wouldn't notice. But you did. Your mouth opened. Then closed. You swallowed thickly. Then you spoke.

"I thought…. thought you didn't like me."

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Him? Not like you? How could you think that? He could only hate you as much as a hunter hates Mother Earth for blessing him with food.

"You just… always seem so.. annoyed at me whenever I try to talk to you. And you never really… really talk back.. Just kinda… give short answers. I thought you found me annoying. I didn't want to keep annoying you. So I just… just backed off…."

He took a moment to process that. Let it all sink in.

He couldn't help it.

Tord began to laugh.

Through his laughter, he noticed you pout, heard a soft whine leave you. A groan ripped through his laugh at the sight. As if his body was working on autopilot, he surged forward. Pressed his lips to yours. He felt your gasp against his lips, then felt your melt into the kiss. You kissed back.

When his oxygen began to run short, he pulled away. Not too far, though. Kept his forehead pressed flush to yours. Took in the sight of you. You, panting softly, lips swollen from the kiss. Looking up at him through your pretty eyelashes.

"I have never hated you, kjære. I am… aloof. I have a resting bitch face. You are not the first person I have unnerved. But.. you are the first that I have wanted to be close to. If you would have me."

Courtesy. Formality. Tord was a stubborn man, and when he managed to get a taste of blood, he clamped his jaws down tight and didn't let go.

And this rabbit laid down in his teeth willingly.

You smiled.

"I'd like that. Yeah."

[a-maru-writesback]

Warning: NSFW, MDNI

The woman caged the colonel between her legs in an attempt to win the argument that started over who was clingier, she thanked her flexibility, because Caleb was huge under her; he was not putting that much of a fight, more like he was letting her move his arms as a puppet in that silly fight.

Yet, no matter how many accusations she threw at him ‘Caleb held my hand in his last day at the academy’, ‘Caleb calls me before dinner every evening’, ‘Caleb’s always begging for me to send him trinkets’, ‘Caleb...!’ she was sorely losing; but she would not be a hunter if she gave up so easily; so, determined to turn things in her favor, she spilled something she had been keeping inside “and... and you’ve made me wait, and then now you’re back... as a colonel” her hands tighened their grip on his big ones, “you interrogated me with that mean look on your face” - she knew her words had declared her the loser, but they had come out with such a force that she could only close her mouth and stare at him with big eyes; her pout made him soften his look. Caleb decided to break his silence, “aw, pip-squeak, did I scare you”, she rocked her hips in her attempt to turn away from his soft gaze, but he patiently waited for her honest answer, his breathing was quiet; finally, her voice came low as a confession, “y-yeah”.

Caleb felt truly bad, yet, memories of a certain morning came to his mind, he could not miss this oportunity - his pip-squeak was being so open and vulnerable that he had to go deeper, look for a bigger crack that would hopefully bring forth the admittance both had been avoiding “and... you were so scared you were grinding on my uniform coat?” His eyes squinted for a second as he saw the woman getting flustered. There was a hint of amusement on his lips. She was like a deer caught in the headlights, but he pushed his pelvis up with a semi circular motion, forcing a soft squeak out of her, “mmm? Tell me, pip-squeak, were you?”

She was grasping his hands like she meant to hurt him, and with a faux angry expression, she told him, “I wasn’t grinding...”

Caleb’s amusement grew shamelesly, yet he faked confusion and said with a faux naïve voice, “oh? Then what were you doing with my uniform?”

Her confidence was nearly gone at this point, pulverized like the targets on a practice range, but she was not ready to accept complete defeat “I was smoothing a wrinkle”

He barely contained a chuckle, yet he could not contain the darkening of his eyes “With your lower parts?”

She had noticed the shift. A sound close to a hiccup came out of her nervous self, “y-yep, it was a particular diffficult one...”

His smile told her he was just playing into her bullshit excuse, “I see. Tell me, did smoothing the wrinkle feel nice?”

Her eyes kept going from side to side of the dim room, nothing could hold her attention; still in that caging position, she could feel her burning face; even on top she felt his presence taking over, “It did.”

The confession brought feelings he had been avoiding in order to remain focused on his work all week, “good”, he made sure his voice was smooth and soft as the ‘o’ sound was extended; and already he could see the effects, her blushing was out of hand - now, her gaze could not help but come back to him, so, Caleb continued, “oh, look, I guess our little game has wrinkled that spot on my suit...”

She was beyond embarassed, and could not help noticing the signs of his arousal; she did not bother to search for the ‘crease’, and only nodded guiding her hips to the part he pointed out, “how about you help me out here?” Caleb’s voice was like a soft purr as she steadied herself, her hands tightening their grip on his - he loved feeling that faint pressure, it was so hers.

It simply felt nice, her weight pushing against him - shily at first, and then with a hint of neediness. Caleb sensed his blood rushing to his clothed crotch, but he mad no move to relieve himself of the pressure. Her hands still holding on to his.

To her, though, it felt like the best way to release her frustration - having Caleb seeing her rubbing her clothed sex against his lower stomach, a bit to the side near his hip made her want to die. However, her body just would not allow her mind to stop, it was too good. She saw him watching her a bit flushed, he was no longer teasing her, which only encouraged her to go harder, pressing all her weigth on that spot.

It was beyond messy now, his coat rested unbuttoned and negligent on his stomach, his shirt underneath was rumpled and some of it had rolled up exposing his abs; her skirt became a belt around her hips and no longer hid her underwear. A wet spot had formed there and grew as her hips trembled from pleasure.

Her head mimicked a whip, her lips could not reamin shut and silent as huffs of short breathing broke through.

Caleb decided he liked this; liked the attention she gave his body, liked she had a thing for his uniform, liked her scent on him. He liked everything about it.

When her eyes met his, there was a soft languidness in them she had a relaxed smile, as she admitted in a whisper “...maybe I am clingier”.

It did not matter who started this silly competition, who won or who lost; Caleb wanted nothing more than to remain here under her, sensing the tingle of her breathing on his neck.

(Trying out a new format, with a cute header I made... it's pretty simple, but I liked it >///<)

(I missed writing for Caleb, can u tell?)

[shhh-secret-time]

Hi lovey! I would never pass up an opportunity to request something from you, you are litro my fav writer on here ^_^ Obsessed with the way you perfectly capture the love in your polyam stuff, can we get Style x fem reader with some fluffy and soft lovemaking👀 Aaaa I’d just die for that!

Lots of love from a loyal reader, take care of yourself 💘✨

Me? Me am favorite? Why?! You bless me with the sweet words. I hope I continue to serve.

Also happy Kyle Week guys! We stan a silly man in love! I had a blast writing this one!

Warning: NSFW, Strong Language, F/M/M, Threesome, Pillow violence.

Pairings: Stan x Fem!Reader x Kyle

It's the pressure on his chest that stirs him. At first it was gentle, almost comforting in a way, but now it's too much. Every time he takes a breath it's strained. Kyle doesn't need to open his eyes to know what the source of his discomfort is, he already knows.

Stanley Marsh was a cuddler. It wasn't a secret the man was the most touch starved human being in South Park, but some imaginary pride kept him from acting on it in public. Behind closed doors the man had to be touching Kyle constantly, especially if it was bedtime.

"Dude you can't break the nighttime routine. Hurry up and get your ass in this bed. I'm tired!"

"Then go to bed Stan! Just because you don't care about your skin's health doesn't mean I have to neglect mine!"

It would be one thing if it was just Stan, unfortunately he wasn't alone. You were just as bad, if not worse. Kyle couldn't recall any moment in his shared relationship with you and Stan if you were ever warm. Not a day went by that you didn't complain about being cold.

"Kyle, sweetheart, love of my life, sun in my sky, light of my-"

"Yes, you can use my hoodie and my sweatpants."

A part of him feels bad; because as he cracks open his eyes, letting that early morning light hit the greens of his eyes, you both look so peaceful on his chest. Nothing in this world ever makes him feel so at peace than when he catches his lovers cuddles up against him. Stan tucked into his side; face nuzzled into the crook of neck with a heavy arm wrapped around his chest. You under that arm, slotted between his legs with your head resting just below his heart.

No, he can't think of anything more perfect. One of the many perks of being an early riser. He'd never tell either of you how he lies here for the first ten minutes of his day just admiring your sleeping forms. The way your hair clung to your face or how you would mumble under your breath, letting him know what kind of dreams you were having. Or how Stan's lips would curl up into a smile when he placed a kiss on his forehead. It was adorable that he could give him a dorky smile in his sleep, even with that trail of drool rolling down the side of his chin.

Kyle could deal with the sore arm and crushed lungs, not even the sweat bothered him. But the one thing Kyle couldn't stand being was being late, he couldn't stand it when his schedule was thrown off. If the shrill screaming alarm went off, it meant it was time to get up. Time to start his day and get work done so he can come home to the both of you as quickly as possible. Do the work, get the reward. That anxiety of keeping anyone waiting for him or being late for something was too strong to ignore.

So, what was he to do when his alarm went off and his two partners wouldn't move. Normally the alarm at least stirred you off him, made Stan roll over and give him room to get up. Something about this chilly Thursday morning kept you both glued to your spots. If anything, Kyle thinks he felt Stan's muscles twitch and his arm slide down towards his waist, tightening his hold on him. Your smaller frame moving closer to the source of warmth, sliding your cold little hands under his shirt. He couldn't tell if you were secretly awake and punishing him for even thinking about moving, or if you were just innocently still asleep. Either way that damn alarm wouldn't stop screaming.

With a huff, he moves his free arm across your body and makes a grab for the phone. Stan's eye, the one not buried in the crook of his neck, cracks open and he swats Kyle's hand. Sleep still trapped in his eyes, Stan fumbles with the device making it stop its cry for attention. He misses the glare Kyle shoots his way.

"Stop movin'." Stan's grumbled words make it sound like he's not asking, but Kyle wasn't having it.

"You know I need to get up. Now come on, let me get up." Kyle goes to move you off his chest and into Stan's arms. He figures you both can keep each other warm and comfortable so he can get up to start his day.

"Stop moving..." You whine in response to him trying to get up. He lets out the softest grunt when you push on his chest.

His brows furrow when he's pushed back down onto the bed. Kyle's back hits the plush of the bed making the headboard knock against the wall. If this kind of behavior was done on the weekend, he would have found it kind of adorable that you're both being so whiney. It did make Kyle feel loved that he was wanted, but being loved doesn't pay the bills or excuse irresponsibility.

So, he tries again, moves his arm out from under Stan and wraps it around you. In your sleepy haze you think he's going to give you a hug and give into the snuggling. You should have known better, should have remembered that Kyle was a stubborn man. Kyle twists his body in Stan's hold and uses you as a shield. Moving you into the arms of the raven-haired man, which Stan almost falls for. It's instinct at this point for Stan to hold you.

As much as he clings to Kyle, Stan clings to you. He loves picking you up and taking you away from whatever you're working on for cuddles. You don't fight him nearly as much as Kyle does and you get his warmth, it's a win-win. You huff in response, how dare that man use you and Stan's weakness against you.

"Kyle...noooo! Come back to bed." Your hands fly out to grab at his pajama shirt, tugging on the material.

"Don't give me that. I already told Stan I need to get up, you heard my alarm I know you did." The scolding in Kyle's tone dies when he sees how sweet you look. Even Stan looks adorable with his messy hair and baby blue eyes.

How dare you use his weakness for puppy dog eyes against him. The only defense he can think of is to turn his head and twist his body away from cute kryptonite. Turning his back on you proved to be his downfall. As soon as he did Stan's arm was around his waist, pulling him back against him again. You slipped around his body as if this was a coordinated attack. You moved your hands up his chest and locked them lazily around his neck.

"You're both horrible! God damn it Stan let me go! And you-" Kyle's protests come with a healthy scowl, one he's sure you're not taking seriously. "-you stop helping him!"

"Just five more minutes, please!" You whisper pleading, almost begging.

He knows better. Kyle knows better than to say yes because it won't be five minutes. It'll turn into ten, and that ten will turn to twenty. He'll be trapped here until Stan's alarm goes off, where he'll lay there watching him hit snooze three times. By then he'll have hit the fourth and Kyle will be late for work.

"No. I warned you both last night not to stay up and watch Castlevania." Despite his complaints, Kyle finds his body starting to melt back into the bed. His muscles don't tense as they should. His hands don't pry you away from him and instead find home on your hips. He even lets Stan intertwine his legs with his.

"Hmm, you're just grumpy Stan and I watched it without you." You hum in response, pressing a soft kiss on one of the stray freckles on his neck.

"Hm." Stan doesn't seem to register the conversation you're having, just grunting to tell you he's still awake. And that he really doesn't want to be.

"I'm not upset that you- wait you watched it all?"

".... No?" You muffle your lie in his skin, trying to hide the growing smile creeping across your face.

"You little shit!" He goes to bite down on your neck, squirming out of Stan's hold just enough to pin your wrists back by your head.

Squeals and kicks aren't enough to get him to stop. He rolls you over until you’re flat on your back, being late for work is a distant thought. Not when you just ratted yourself and Stan out. A betrayal like this can't go unpunished. Try as you might, you can't fight back Kyle's light-hearted wrath. His hands are up and under your shirt before you can blink, squeezing and tickling the sides of your stomach.

"Stan! Stan, help meeee! He did it too! Get him!" One minute you're begging to be saved, the next you're trying to drag him down with you. Gasping loudly as you try to catch your breath in between giggles.

Stan grumbles something now more awake since all that kicking, you're doing landed his way. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes before registering what you just said. A little smirk playing on his lips and instead of coming to your aid, he props himself up on his elbow.

"He'll get his! Don't you worry!" Stan's smirk drops. Kyle cuts him off like he knows Stan was about to protest. "Stanley Marsh don't you even try and get out of this!"

Luckily for you Kyle's assault stops long enough for you to scramble away and catch your breath. Your heels dig into the bed, hands fumbling the pillow beside you. Anything to keep distance between Kyle and your sore sides. You watch as Stan sits up, giving Kyle a loving look. Slowly a hand cups Kyle's hips, soft digits rubbing circles in a way that allows him to dip them past the band of Kyle's sweatpants. The Marsh Charm™ is in full effect.

"Kyle...dude look we can watch it again. And we'll get all the satisfaction of watching your cute face react to the stuff we already know." Stan lets his voice dip low, sweet whispers against the shell of his ear.

"Yeah? To the stuff you already know?" Kyle leans into his touch, lips getting closer towards Stan's. He's close enough that Stan's eyelids lower down, breath ghosting across his partner's lips.

"Hm-m."

The poor fool. You almost feel bad for Stan. The Marsh Charm™ is but a candle to the roaring fire that is the Broflovski Wrath™. As soon as Kyle brushes his lips across Stan's lips, and the man's shoulders drop, a pillow is swung hard against the side of his head. Out of left field a flash of blue and white stripes slam into the side of Stan's head. Hovering over him in triumph, Kyle continues his attack. Stan's arms come up to defend his face from the memory foam, each wack making a thump against his head.

"I.don't.want.your.shitty.excuses!" Each word comes with a healthy swing. Kyle was on a warpath now. Denied the right to get up and get his morning coffee. Denied the right to a warm shower to wash the sleep out of his eyes. Denied the right to whatever else his morning routine demanded. And now he was denied any happiness that would have come with watching a silly Netflix animated series with the loves of his life.

Once he's decided Stan's had enough, he falls back onto the bed and sighs. He didn't need to look at his phone, there was no doubt in his mind that he was going to be late. So, he tosses the pillow onto Stan's face, who had just let his guard down again, and curls up next to you. Right back in the middle where you both had him moments ago.

"Fine. You win. The both of you are terrible, awful influences and when I get fired, you'll have no one to blame but yourselves." You and Stan both know that would never happen. The company Kyle worked for needed him badly, and he almost never called out of work.

When he closes his eyes, he expects the both of you to return to your spots. Reaping the sweet reward of a few more minutes of shut eye, basking in the warmth of his body like you always do. And in a way, you do. You and Stan take your positions against him, with you pressed up against his chest and Stan against his back.

Only you don't rest your head on his chest, instead he feels your hands playing with the metal snap buttons on his shirt. He feels Stan's hands playing with the hem of his pants again, hooking a thumb in the band of the sweats. Stan tugs him back against him just as your fingers pop a button open. The little snap makes his eyes shoot open.

"Someone's grumpy~"

"Are you mad at us baby?"

That purr in your voice and that little laugh that comes from Stan tells him that neither of you had any plans of going back to sleep. Kyle feels Stan's nails dig into his hips and can't help but groan a little at the pain. Those pretty sounds from his lips make Stan's cock jump up at attention, the borrowed basketball shorts do little to hide his growing arousal. Chapped lips trail down Kyle's neck, brushing up against the pulse point on his throat. Kyle's head lulls back expecting Stan to bite down, but all it does is open him up for Stan's lips to continue exploring.

He's so wrapped up in the way Stan makes him feel that he barely registers it when you push his shirt down. The shirt folds and slides down towards his elbows where you leave it. Your lips almost meet Stan's at the same point on his body, right on his shoulder where more freckles cover his skin. When your lips brush against Stan's you let out the sweetest laugh, one Kyle can feel make his heart speed up.

"Was here first~" Stan smirks down at you, nipping at your bottom lip. "I left his neck for you."

You giggle again and push your lips up against his as if to silence him with a kiss. You weave a response in between kisses. "You're the biter Stan, you take his neck."

"Don't talk like I'm- ah!" Kyle yelps when your teeth sink into his chest, right below his collarbone. It cuts his complaints short and turns it into a loud moan.

It's Stan's turn to laugh, a hint of pride in that deep sound. His thumb brushes over the bright red mark left behind, admiring it with a grin. He presses his lips back onto Kyle's skin right at the junction of his neck and shoulder.

"F..Fucking Christ you two. What happened to five more minutes?" Kyle gasps at the warmth left behind Stan's tongue.

"Stan and I had other ideas! You seemed so upset that we did something without you." As sweet as you sounded, the way your nails scraped down his chest and stomach made Kyle groan. "Now we're doing something with you. Isn't this better Ky?"

He wants to respond with a snarky comment, to gain some sense of control over the situation, but his head is spinning. He should be used to this by now, how you and Stan make him feel. But every kiss and hot breath that ghosts his skin makes his heart flutter, it makes him fall that much deeper in love. Especially when he hears praise after praise falls from your lips.

"So pretty."

Was he really? Kyle looked at himself in the mirror that was connected to your dresser. His face was flushed, and his hair was a mess.

"Love those sounds Ky."

His moans? Or the whimpers? Both? He couldn't stop them if he tried.

"Keep you rockin' your hips like that fuck you feel so good."

Just a little friction, something to help relieve his throbbing cock. Something to help Stan's that pushed him forward, forcing his cock to grind against the thin material of your underwear.

"Let’s get this off you."

The desperate whine that escapes his lips turns into a gasp when Stan pushes his sweats down. Your hands follow close behind pushing down his boxers leaving him in nothing but that sleep shirt still draped on his arms. Stan moves his hands off his hips for a moment, he feels the man shift behind him and soon the rustling of clothes close behind. But a second later he feels Stan's arousal against his.

His cock slides up between his legs pressing up against his. Kyle bites his bottom lip as he reaches down to grasp both members in his hand. Deft fingers wrap around them and begin pumping slowly, creating delicious friction. When Stan moans lowly and jerks his hips, it encourages him to go faster. Pre-cum being smeared in-between his hand and their shafts. It was messy but it made him feel so good, so good he didn't want to stop. He could feel that pressure building, pleasure rocking in his stomach in time with Stan's clumsy thrusts. He tightens his hand, squeezing the tips just as his hand comes back up.

It wasn't until he felt Stan's desperate hands grab at his wrist that he realized just how close he was. The hot pleasure that he was building up simmered down to a low heat. Tiny beads of sweat already forming on his chest and down his arms. When he looked down at you, you seemed to be enjoying the show.

Your fingers were dancing up and down his stomach, causing the skin to flex in response. He watched as they traced up towards Stan's arms and up back behind Kyle's head.

"We have all morning now Ky. Relax~ let's take it slow." Stan purred in his ear, low and soft. He felt his face burry into the crook of his neck again.

Kyle closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. Still, that didn't stop him from seeking out something to help his aching cock. He pulls you closer towards his frame, feeling your thighs instinctively spreading enough to where he can slot himself between. A moan escapes you as he slips his fingers down the hem of your underwear. He slips his fingers past the band, immediately seeking out your wetness. Kyle coats his fingers before placing them straight along your clit.

Your hips start to move in sync with his fingers. Grinding against the calloused fingertips, trying to create more friction. The angel of his hand and the fact that you were the only one still dressed made that difficult.

"Help me take this off."

You sound so desperate, how could he not? Hurriedly he removes his fingers from your cunt to assist you in removing what clothes you still had on. As soon as they were thrown off to the side, creating some pile in the corner of your shared bedroom, his fingers were back on you.

The only time his fingers stop their assault is when he feels your body tense. They sneak down, drenching in slick, he pushes them inside of you. Pulling his fingers out of you just enough to where he can slide them back inside. He creates a repetitive motion, curling his fingers against the sweet spot of your walls.

Stan watches from behind him with a humming approval. His own hand reaches out and grips your chin, bringing you closer. Your lips lock together for a brief moment. Gentle soft kisses that come with a warm smile. Your bodies pressed firmly against Kyle.

Stan gives you one last lazy peck on the lips before he moves his hand back down to Kyle's thigh. He nudges his legs open just enough to slip his hard cock up against his backside. There's a moment where he pulls away but it's only a breath. He twists his body back with a small blue bottle of clear gel.

Seconds later he repositions himself behind Kyle. It's like every moan you let out only encourages him. After putting a healthy amount of lube on his cock, Stan aligns himself back up against him. He takes the time to lather the cold gel onto his hole before gently pushing himself in. Kyle slightly winces in response, his body tensing but as he focuses on fingers on you, he relaxes.

"That's it Ky. Relax. I'm gonna make you feel so good." His sweet words coax him. Kyle can only bite his lip and nod.

At the same time, you pull his hand out of your soaked cunt. His fingers coated in your arousal. You smile up at him when his eyes fly down to you. He's worried for a moment, but that look of love and admiration in your eyes makes him relax.

Not wanting you to go far from him, Kyle wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you back against him. He copies Stan's movements and lifts your thigh, tossing your leg over his hip where Stan takes your ankle.

His hand going down to spread your lips where he eagerly guides his tip inside, you both sigh a relieving sigh at the feeling of it. A deep groan sounded from him and Stan both, once he's fully sheathed inside you. Stan rocks his hips forward, pushing in and out carefully. He tries to keep things slow, concentrating on pleasuring you just as much as Stan's giving him.

But the minute he rocks into you, being carried by Stan's momentum, he's commenting on his own desire. "More. Please, hurry up."

You roll your hips in response, hands flying out to be tangled up in his hair. There's that silent conversation that goes on between you and Stan again, one that he can't follow because of how much of a daze he's in. Stan presses a kiss on his cheek, you press one on his chest.

"Anything for you baby." It's the way your voice dips into a sultry purr and the way Stan's hands grab hips. "Like when you beg."

Kyle's seeing stars.

The delicious sounds and desperate use of his name almost sends him overboard. Stan's grip tightens and he picks up his movements, fucking him at a steady pace. Every time Stan drives his cock into him, it pushes his own further into you. Tight walls wrapped around his dick perfectly, like it was made for him.

Your walls stretch and pull him. Accommodating for the thick size, each thrust reaching further inside. Kyle nudges every sweet spot he can to pull more moans from you. The sound of wet skin on skin filled the room. A perfect rhythm and dance created.

It isn't until his name comes out in a choked cry that he knows how close you are. He hits a particular spot that had your vision turning white. That feeling of hot pressure shoots up through your body and down to your feet, you arch your back determined to have him repeat the action. "Th-there! Right there again! Please!"

Drawn-out moans escape his throat encouraging Stan to go faster and him to thrust harder. Your arms wrap around his neck bringing him down for another kiss. Stan's gaze makes it all the hotter, as he patiently waits for his turn. Once you break for air, Kyle doesn't get that luxury because Stan's mouth his on his before he can breathe. Each kiss makes him feel more and more loved.

Kyle has to break the kiss to breathe. To catch his breath and stop the room from spinning. The lack of air leads to the growing pressure building up in his stomach again. He's so close, he can feel his stomach tighten. That familiar warmth pooling at his stomach. He knew Stan was close from the way his hips were beginning to lose their steady rhythm. He wants to hold out. Find a way to cum together, he's not sure why he wants that so badly, but he does.

In seconds of wishful thinking, he feels your body start to tense. Your orgasm building higher and higher, walls constricting around his cock. Kyle watches your eyes flutter shut as a high-pitched whine escapes your lips.

"Close- 'm so close! Gonna cum!"

"Fu-fuck!"

Then like a band stretched too far. He snaps. Kyle lets his climax take over, spilling his load inside of you. The sight alone makes Stan follow shortly after. With a final thrust he buries himself deep inside of him, tightening his arms as he does. Between his blunt nails digging into your thighs and the lazy thrusts, you follow shortly after.

Kyle's heart was racing so loudly it was all he could hear past the soft panting. The out of breath chest heaving up and down in time with one another. He's never felt more connected to anyone before. Through his glossy vision he watches as you're the first to move, slipping off his softening cock. Stan follows behind pulling out of him slowly. Why was his body so spent? He felt so exhausted at that moment.

Your gentle hands move to help clean him, and Stan lifts him up enough to where he's back on his pillows. They've never felt so soft in that moment. He lets his eyes close, and he feels the weight of it all.

"Mm... give… give me a minute and I'll get up." Kyle mumbles in the fluff of the pillows.

"Okay baby. Stan and I are gonna make breakfast. That sound good?"

He doesn't respond. Even his mouth feels too heavy to talk. He just nods and decides to give himself five more minutes. Then he'll get up, grab a cup of coffee, and start his day.

[bubblegumbarbie33]

The way people will stand so proudly and defend Frank Gallagher with all their hearts, talking about how funny and #craaazy he is and then absolutely SHIT on Monica and act as if she was the downfall of Frank. Like. I'm sorry? That man can make his own decisions. At any point he could have been like- hey, I can't do this with you anymore Mon, I need to leave you. Or. OR! HEAR ME OUT! ENCOURAGED HER TO TAKE HER MEDS AND SEEK HELP INSTEAD OF FOCUSING ON HIS OWN SELFISH DESIRES.

Because of the two of them, Monica has a diagnosable mental illness which explains a lot of her "crazy" behavior. Does that excuse said behavior? Absolutely not- because even when she's in a 'good' place (still off of her meds, because I can't remember a time in the show where she consistently took them) she cracks under the pressure of taking care of the kids that she chose to have, tries to take a baby, enables one of her children that shares her mental illness, neglects them, and then leaves them a shit ton of cocaine to deal with when she dies.

But you know what Frank did? Murdered someone. Remember Butterface? (What a lovely name.) Remember how HE GOT A CALL ABOUT THE HEART THAT COULD SAVE HER LIFE, AND THEN DID NOTHING??? REMEMBER HOW HE THEN AGREED TO KILL HER IN AN ACT THAT WOULD BRING HER DEATH AND HIM PLEASURE???

Remember when he lost his son in a bet? Remember when he just generally treated his kids like shit for their entire lives? Remember when he actively tried to re-traumatize Sheila and reignite her mental health struggles?

Remember when he called CPS on his own kids???

Or how about using his SON'S SPERM TO IMPREGNATE A WOMAN????

Or when he uses his kids names on all of his cards and put them into debt for the rest of their lives! :D

Did Monica traumatize her kids? Absolutely. Did Monica neglect her kids? Completely. Did Monica also fuck off for a majority of the series, so we don't get a full picture of her life or the things that she's done? Yes! Was Monica also being enabled in this problematic behavior by the same narcissistic addict that every red-pilled ego-maniacal dude-bro on reddit worships? YES! :D

But, y'know, Monica's just a crazy bitch who ruined Frank's life, and Frank is a silly little boy just looking to get by :p

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

it’s ok to be happy, even after everything p3

pair: Fred Weasley x reader requested by anonymous

If you want 😅 …. could you do a pt 3 for it’s ok to be happy, even after everything where we get to see more on the dynamic with Fred and the readers relationship and how he very slowly but surely starts to make peace with what had happened? And they have a date and start dating? 😅😭 I rlly like this little series smmmm

masterlist | navigation | p1 | p2 | p4

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It had been a few weeks since Fred had cracked his first real smile in what felt like years. And it wasn’t just a one-time thing. Every now and then, Y/N would catch him smirking at something silly she did, or he’d quietly chuckle under his breath when he thought no one was paying attention. He wasn’t fully back to the old Fred, but he was slowly coming back to life.

Y/N had noticed the changes. Fred was less on edge when she was around, his guard wasn’t up all the time, and he wasn’t as quick to snap or cut their conversations short. In fact, he’d started hanging around her more — finding little excuses to linger by her side while they worked, or sitting with her during lunch breaks, just listening to her talk about everything and nothing.

It felt natural, the way things were slowly falling into place between them. But it wasn’t until one quiet evening, after a long day at the shop, that Fred took the next step.

They were cleaning up, closing the shop for the night. Y/N was wiping down the counter, humming softly to herself, when Fred came up behind her. She turned around and found him standing there, looking a little unsure, which was something she hadn’t seen in him before.

“Hey,” Fred started, his voice a bit awkward. “I was thinking... Maybe we could go out sometime? Like, just the two of us?”

Y/N blinked in surprise, a smile creeping onto her face. “Are you asking me out on a date, Fred Weasley?”

He shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess I am. But, you know, only if you’re up for it. No pressure or anything.”

She grinned, setting the cloth down. “Of course, I’d love to. Took you long enough to ask.”

Fred let out a small laugh, something that had become less rare but still felt special to hear. “Well, I’ve never been great at this sort of thing. But, uh, how about tomorrow night? We could grab dinner somewhere?”

“Sounds perfect,” Y/N said, her heart fluttering.

The next evening, they met outside the shop, and for the first time in ages, Fred looked relaxed. He wasn’t wearing his usual work clothes, and Y/N couldn’t help but notice how good he looked — his hair neatly combed, a button-up shirt that wasn’t rumpled for once.

“You clean up nice,” Y/N teased as they started walking toward the restaurant.

Fred smirked, but there was a softness to it. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Dinner was simple. They didn’t go anywhere fancy, just a cozy little place down the road from the shop. The conversation flowed easily, Y/N doing most of the talking — like usual — but Fred didn’t mind. He liked listening to her, liked the way her face lit up when she got excited about something. And every now and then, Fred would chime in with a sarcastic comment or a quiet joke, and Y/N would laugh, her joy contagious.

After dinner, they took a walk, the evening air cool but comfortable. Y/N looped her arm through Fred’s, and he didn’t pull away. Instead, he gave her a small, grateful smile.

“You know,” Fred said after a while, his voice quiet, “I didn’t think I’d ever do this again.”

“Do what?” Y/N asked, glancing up at him.

“Go on a date. Feel...normal. Like things are okay.”

Y/N’s heart ached a little, but she didn’t push him. She knew Fred wasn’t the type to talk about his feelings openly, especially when it came to what he’d been through. But she also knew he was trying, and that was enough for now.

“Things are okay,” Y/N said gently. “They’re not perfect, and maybe they never will be, but it’s okay to feel good. It’s okay to let yourself be happy, Fred.”

Fred looked down at her, his eyes soft, and for a moment, they just stood there in the middle of the sidewalk, taking in the quiet. Then, Fred reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently.

“I’m trying,” he admitted. “It’s just...hard sometimes. I keep thinking about everything we lost. Everything that happened.”

Y/N squeezed his hand back. “I know. And you don’t have to rush. I’m here, Fred. We’ll take it slow, one step at a time.”

He gave her a small, grateful nod. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” she said with a playful smile, leaning into his side.

Fred smiled, a real one this time, and leaned down to press a soft kiss to the top of her head. It was simple, but it meant the world to her. This wasn’t just a date. It was the start of something more, something real.

From that night on, things between them shifted. They weren’t just friends who flirted and shared quiet moments at the shop. They were together, really together. Fred still had his bad days, days where the weight of the past was too heavy for him to bear, but Y/N was always there, pulling him back from the edge, reminding him that it was okay to feel, okay to let himself be happy.

And slowly, Fred started to make peace with everything that had happened. He’d never be the same person he was before the war, but maybe that was okay. He was different now, but with Y/N by his side, he was learning to live again. And every now and then, when they were alone and the world felt a little less heavy, Fred would laugh — really laugh — and it would remind them both that things were going to be okay.

[idungoofed]

The Jet Pack - drabble

So yes I am still writing for my A Spaceman In My Backyard fic, (See this post for a bit more context and another drabble.) and I am actually almost done with the prologue! Yes, I'm shocked too. But that will posted probably Friday, and in the meantime here is another silly little drabble that I'm hoping to fit in somewhere or just have as an extra, where my Earthling OC, Cate finds out about Dins jet pack for the first time.

No warnings just fluff.

Word count: 1,991

I wake in the morning, the noises of the countryside coming to life behind the window was quiet, compared to last night where a late summer thunderstorm had rolled in over the mountains. I’d woken throughout the night to booms of thunder, and each time my thoughts turned to Din on his ship in the clearing. The trees surrounding the clearing would have offered some coverage – so long as they held from the wind too. And so, each time the sky cracked with lighting and thunder roiled over head, I woke with a pang of worry which I soothed by reminded myself that that thing had flown him here from a different galaxy, and a storm, not matter how bad for earth standards, was likely no match for the Razor Crest. Although that didn’t stop me from hurrying out of bed that morning, pulling on an old pair of joggers and a faded band t-shirt, slipping my dressing gown and boots on before I headed out the back door.

As I thought, the stream that ran down the craggy mountain had filled to where it had almost burst its banks. I follow it up stream, climbing the rocky path that led into the woodland, stopping briefly at the waterfall that was only yesterday running akin to my weak shower pressure, now a raging torrent of water that poured down into a full natural plunge pool, and then carry on up the winding path. Breaking through the woodland I saw one of my biggest worries of the morning had come true: the part of the path where you needed to use the large natural stepping stones to cross the water was completely submerged. The water that now lowed was fast and deep enough, that even if I would trust myself in still finding the stones underneath, it would be up to my knees in no time.

On the other side I can see Din reflecting the warm sun, seemingly just discovering the same scene as me. I raise my hand in a small sad wave, readying some kind of sarcastic greeting about the water levels, but it dies before I could even take a breath when Dins feet leave the damp earth and he flies. I freeze and stare at him as if he’s the most amazing thing I’d ever seen, because he simply was. He lands easily a few paces away, facing me, as if what he just did was the most normal thing in the world. “Are you fucking serious right now??” Din huffs a laugh at my reaction, “What?” He knows exactly what. I role my eyes. “Of course you have a jet pack, why wouldn’t you?!” The sarcasms heavy now as I wave my hand at him. He crosses his arms and shifts his weight “Cate-” “Oh I’m Din the Mandalorian bad ass, space cowboy with a jet pack” I say mocking him in a deep voice. I was still learning new things about him that blew my mind, and so far, I’ve coped in the only way I know how: taking the piss out of it. “Are you done?” Din asks, I can hear the smile under his helmet, and I grin back. “No. Can I have a look?” He lets out a pained sigh and turns around, although really, he was loving the attention, his face still flushed from the way I’d looked at him in awe, although at odds with what he felt he deserved. I inspect the piece of equipment in reverence, oohing and ahhing before he faces me again. “You’re pretty incredible, Din Djarin.” I look up at the man in front of me, my eyes somehow finding his below the visor, mesmerised, and in that moment the morning summer sun came out from behind its curtain of clouds, casting its glow across my face and lighting up my eyes before they cast downwards. Din looks back at me, transfixed on how my face flushes as if I hadn’t meant to let that slip, and he’s almost bewildered at how it’s him that I chose to honour with this title. Moments pass and he hasn’t said anything, and I shift awkwardly. Had I over stepped?

My move pulls Din from his thoughts, and he steps forward hating that his silence had stolen the warmth my gaze had given him. His hand reaches towards me, but I don’t see it as I’m already turning away, tucking an imaginary piece of hair behind my ear to hide the sudden awkwardness, and his hand drops to his side and clenches, aching to have been the one to brush away the strands from my face. He knew what he wanted to say, to tell me how beautiful he thought me, and over the past week starting to learn how resilient and determined I could be, but also soft, like something that needed protecting. But the words stuck in his throat, and he cleared it, and when he did find his voice, he offered something else instead, “I could show you what it’s like - flying that is?” His voice is hesitant and soft, but I hear him nonetheless and turn, a tentatively excited smile spreading across my face. “For reals?” Din feels his heart clench as my face lights up, as it seemed to do more and more as the days pass by, and his voice came out hesitant. “Yes, I could, if you want, I could carry you… to show you?” His face flushes below his helmet and his eyes shut as he cringes internally, hearing the hopeful note in the question and expecting me to shy away from the suggestion – expecting me to reject the idea at having to be so close to him. “Oh.” My stomach flips as I catch the hopeful inflection, surprised that he’d suggest it; he hadn’t come across as the kind of person who was okay with casual touching, let alone being okay with having my body pressed against him, and my touch starved mind starts throwing images at me of what that could entail at. I am a weak, weak woman. Din’s watching me, ready to take back the idea so my rejection wouldn’t hurt as much as he was starting to realise it would, when he sees my eyes glint with something unreadable, a roguish smile pulls at my lips, and I nod. “Promise you won’t drop me?”

Not ten minutes later are we stood on one of the tall jutting rocks around the open grass land, the mountains surrounding us “You ready?” Din asks me, his voice holding a hint of amusement at how eager I was to do this a moment ago, when now I was wringing my hands with nervous energy. I take a deep breath, looking at Din warily. “You promise you won’t drop me?” Din chuckles under his helmet albeit slightly exasperated by your mistrust. “Yes, Cate, for the third time I will not drop you.” I look at the open sky, the clouds scudding by on their blue canvas, and this time my sigh is more resigned. “Okay, fine, let’s do this.” I turn to him my arms raising before I realise; I still don’t know what he meant when he said he would carry me, and my arms end up doing some weird interpretative dance unsure where to put them, before they drop to my sides, my cheeks aflame. Din chuckles, and in one unexpectedly bold move that surprises us both, he dips his body towards mine, scooping me up, his hands wrapping round my back and under my knees and I squawk and wrap my arms round his neck and bury my face in his shoulder plate, clamping my eyes shut at the sudden take off. Wind whips past us and I feel Dins helmet shift against the side of my head that’s still buried into him, my eyes still squeezed shut, being terrified of falling to my death, while simultaneously trying and failing to ignore how good he smelt. Another chuckle vibrates through him, the sound making me smile despite myself. “I’ve got you, cyar’ika, open your eyes!” He calls as the wind whistles past my ears.

I file the question about the new name away for later and slowly peel my eyes open, squinting at Dins neck through my lashes, peeking an accidental view of a sliver of his skin where the collar of his flight suit tugged in the wind. I drag my eyes to his visor and my heart skips in my chest as I see it tilted at me, my fear momentarily forgotten as I feel his gaze on me. He looks out at the landscape again, his breath lost at the sight of me cradled in his arms. I turn to look at the view, my eyes tearing in the wind, noting gratefully we’re not super high up, only about 20 feet, but all the same the views are amazing from this new perspective. The suns morning glow glints of the stream running down the mountain side, some parts more than others where the water falls from its cliffs; the ragged grass lands around us swirling like green waves with an array of colourful wildflowers breaking over the jutting rocks that scatter the base of the mountain. It’s beautiful, only made better by the feel of Dins arms holding me to him. I stare out, my face mesmerised by the beauty of the land around us, reminding me why I’d worked so hard to keep it. I look at him again, my eyes holding mock indignation while my mouth fights a grin, hands clutching at the fabric of his cloak on the back of his neck. “You’ve been holding out on me!” He huffs a laugh and shakes his head, ignoring my accusation and nods at the view “What do you think?” “It’s beautiful!” My gaze holding his a moment longer before I turn again to look out at the rugged landscape. Din continues to steal glances down at me as I take in the view, and he holds me tighter, wishing this moment didn’t have to end, even if it only meant having an excuse for him to keep me close like this. All too soon Din loops back around and lands on the rock we started on, and sets me down, keeping his hand at my hip to steady me when I stumble a little at having solid ground under me; my stomach somersaulting, as the adrenaline from the flight leaves my body. “You okay?” He asks softly He’s so close still, his fingertips still resting on my hip, and I feel breathless, although not because of the recent exhilaration of flying, but because of the softness in his touch and voice he turns on me. My eyes homing in on his again as I nod, smiling cautiously, not wanting to lean into the hope that the feelings that were forming for him were reciprocated in the form of such casual touches and closeness. The wind carries that stubborn piece of hair across my face again as I look up at him, and this time he doesn’t have the willpower to stop himself. He brings a gloved finger to gently brush along the apple of my cheek and tuck the stands behind my ear, his fingers lingering for a moment too long then not long enough, before his hand drops, feeling almost selfish for stealing the touch from me. He steps back before I could end the moment myself - not that I had planned to, and I catch myself before my body unconsciously leans in towards him like it had started to. My lips hint at a hesitant smile, and I walk past him, heading in the direction of the cottage. “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.” I say thinking of the plunge pool and wondering if beskar rusts.

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments always appreciated💕

[maskofthetragedy]

SYNTAX x READER

Content: Fluff (i think)

Posted from my AO3 account to here

Enjoy :>

———————————————————————

It was not a good day, to say the least.

You had set your drink down on a bed of notes by mistake, so now there’s a ring of water decorating those rather important papers, your sparring match with Huntsman left you feeling more sore than usual, and your mood just wasn’t that great to begin with.

So now you’re stuck in Syntax’s room, having been sent to work on some printed circuit board assemblies with him. Not that that was bad, most of the time you loved working with someone who could match your intellect with computer and other electronic hardware.

It’s just for some reason you coudn’t get this stubborn LED to work properly.

Which was strange, to say the least. As this had never happened before, you struggling this badly over something so utterly simple. It was frustrating to you, so much so that the pen in your hand you were using for schematics was now brutality making contact with the table.

The pen nib was practically destroyed, but you kept going, finding a strange satisfaction in how it cracked under the pressure. But rather quickly Syntax notices this, looking over at you from his seat with an expression of slight concern and something akin to amusement.

“You’re lucky I didn’t like that pen.” He muses, getting up from his seat to walk over to you. His movements are swift and confident, like always, but you can already feel the snarky remark or joke coming any second now.

After a moment or two, you finally respond.

“Yeah, I really don’t like it either.”

He hums in acknowledgement, seemingly thinking about something. He can practically feel your bad temper right now, and he knows you’re rather fond of jokes. So he decides to take a small risk, doing something he’d normally never even think about, but to be fair, he’s also curious as to what your reaction could be if he finally says something other than a smug remark.

“You know, I just have to say… think of that poor pen’s feelings, hm? How would you feel if I banged you on the table like that?” A little smirk forms on his face, and he leans against your work station, supporting himself with a hand.

Your eyes widen slightly, and then a grin slowly begins to cover your face. “Do you want the ‘appropriate’ answer, or the ‘down horrendous’ answer?”

Now it’s his turn to stammer, seemingly caught off guard. Syntax had expected nothing short of a ‘shut up’ to his comment, so when you said that, it left him stumbling to calculate a response. You take notice of his current embarrassed expression, deciding to have a bit of fun with this now.

“Oh, c’mon. You really walked into that one. For someone so intelligent, I would’ve figured you’d have realized the double meaning there,” You lean back in your swivel chair, lightly tossing the broken pen onto the surface of the workstation.

He just huffs, picking himself and his dignity off of the metaphorical ground.

“Well, I didn’t know I was speaking with someone whose mind occupies the entire gutter!”

“You gotta admit, that was funny,” You laugh, smiling like a fool at his reaction. He’s not genuinely mad, you can tell, but it’s still very silly.

Syntax just sighs, rolling his eyes and feigning annoyance. “You’re lucky you’re decent with hardware, otherwise I would’ve kicked you out of here already.”

This time around, he’s more careful as to not say anything that could be turned into a sexual joke. It’s not like he doesn’t enjoy it, but it’s more interesting for the both of them if he puts up a fight. But you do glance over at the ridiculously stubborn LED from earlier, feeling a little bit down again with how you weren’t able to get it to function correctly.

Before you respond to the technician, your hands find themselves moving with a new idea. The LED is replaced with a newer red one, after turning off the power to the prototyping breadboard of course. Then you switch the button back on.

It begins emitting light, like the other one was supposed to do.

You celebrate for a split second before turning back to Syntax, a pleased expression on your face. The original light is between your thumb and index finger now, and then you place it to the side.

“It appears this one is a dud, didn’t these come in yesterday though?” You ask curiously, wanting to make sure you’re remembering things right.

He hums out an answer with a nod alongside it. “Yes, but the Queen insisted we go for more… nominal resources.”

You nod as well, feeling a little bit annoyed with such actions. The cheaper the materials, the harder it will be to do things, not to mention the risk of something malfunctioning. Then if, or rather when something goes wrong, them two will be the ones taking the blame for it.

“Well, that sucks,” You mutter, looking over at the burnt out LED, then to the functioning one.

“Nothing we can do about it,” The spider demon just sits back down in his chair, beginning to clean the area.

You do the same.

[hockeyboysimagines]

Hello dear! I see you've had a few requests about Tkachuk but he's one of my favorites so would it be too much of a bother if I asked too? hahah (you can switch to another player if you want)

I wonder what it would be like for him to commit even more to his girlfriend (not necessarily a marriage proposal, but a hint that this was in his future plans?) I think something like, he and his girlfriend met and started dating in Calgary, she's always gotten along with his family, friends and the whole complicated hockey universe. For silly reasons, she and Matt have been fighting a little more than usual, and it all gets worse when Matthew is traded to Florida. She is afraid of moving away from her home, family and friends, especially with the uncertain way things are going in their relationship. Oh and I don't know, maybe they take a break, Matthew moves to Florida and realizes that without her with him nothing feels right? Does she feel like Calgary has lost its color without Matt there? Does she go to one of his games by suprise? Or does he go all the way to Calgary to see her? Many possible endings hahaha

I hope this is what you had in mind!

Things had never been this bad.

All couples fight, sometimes over big stuff and sometimes over little stuff. But you and Matthew were fighting over both of those things and everything in between.

It seemed there was nothing you two weren’t fighting about these days. It felt silly thinking about it, and it felt even sillier to know that it really didn’t make any sense at all. Nothing had changed really, or at least not to your knowledge, although it had been a somewhat tough year in Calgary. Always the center of hockey drama, Matthew was becoming more well known than ever at this point, and your “strong” relationship had begun to crack under the pressure. In the beginning you decided you would hang tough, because the good parts always outweighed the bad. But now you were hanging on for dear life because the bad was drowning you. Once calm waters were now raging and choppy and more than once your head had dipped below the water line.

It was exhausting.

There wasn’t really one thing or one person that was to blame. It was both of you. You’d just forgotten how to to be with eachother.

In the beginning it was sunshine and rainbows. You loved the city, his family, the other Wags, all of it. You threw yourself into his life, being every bit the supportive girlfriend you should be. And it was great. But as time wore on, you’d lost your identity and become nothing more than Matthew Tkachuk’s girlfriend. And then the rumors.

You didn’t really believe them, but they still hurt. And he saw that. He saw how much you struggled with them, so he moved you into his apartment hoping that would make things better.

It didn’t.

If anything it was worse. Every minute he wasn’t home when he said he would be you sat wallowing in your own paranoia. He started posting more photos of you on his social media in order to quell your overthinking, which only opened the door for ugly remarks on your appearance and invasion into your privacy. To him it seemed like no matter what he did, it never made anything better, just worse.

But it had come to a head when the news of his trade to Florida broke.

You’d been blindsided, having no clue it was about to happen.

He however didn’t seem as surprised.

“I didn’t tell you because I wanted to surprise you.” He said nonchalantly as he unpacked a jersey the panthers had sent him “Your gonna love Florida. It’ll be a fresh start for us and I-“ he stopped when he caught your eye and frowned “What?”

“I’m not-I’m not moving to Florida.” You said quietly. The silence in the room was the loudest thing you’d ever heard. He was standing so still he could have been a statue, but the blood creeping up his neck and across his face gave him away.

“I don’t want to uproot my life that way, especially not with how things here have been going.”

“Babe things are going to get better.” He came around the counter and grabbed your hand “I know things have been hard but-“

“No you don’t.” A tear spilled over your lower eyelid and ran down your cheek “You have no idea how hard things have been for me.”

He stepped away from you “Oh don’t I? Do you think I would do everything I’ve been for the last year if I didn’t know?”

“I didn’t ask you to do any of that-“

“I did it because I love you and I wanted to help. Clearly that wasn’t enough. You know-“ he scoffed and turned away shaking his head “No matter what I do it’s ever good enough for you. You don’t want to come to Florida, fine don’t come.”

That had been 5 months ago. It had turned into a knock down, drag out screaming match that had ended in tears and a packed suitcase. You’d stayed with your sister for a week until he’d left for Florida and you hadn’t seen him since.

You’d been keeping tabs on him though, even finding yourself smiling a little as you watched the coverage on him in Florida. You missed him, realizing now that he was what made life in Calgary colorful and great. And that maybe there was more you could have done to fix things. Maybe he was right. You’d never really appreciate me the things he’d done to make things better for you and that maybe Florida would be kinder to you than Calgary was. And now you’d never get the chance to find out. You were walking through life without really living, completely numb to the outside until a knock at your door turned things around.

Matthew was standing on the other side of your door, bundled in cold weather gear. You were both surprised and not surprised. You knew he was in town for his “return to Calgary game”, but you didn’t think you’d see him. After all it had been 5 months of complete silence between the two of you. And while you’d hoped that maybe you would run into him or fate would bring you together, you also kind of didn’t. It would be hard to see him knowing what had gone down between you.

“I forgot how fucking cold it is up here.” He walked wordlessly past you and turned to find you still holding open the door.

Before you throw me out, just listen.” He reached past you and pushed the door shut before he sighed “I acted like an asshole before, and I should have talked to you sooner but it’s taken me 5 months to realize how dumb I was being. I have no idea how hard that was for you, and I won’t pretend to. The truth it, I never even tried. I just kept putting bandaids on our problems hoping it would make it better, but looking back I think if maybe I had tried to just see things differently and understand why we started to struggle it would be different. Every time something happened I saw you pulling away and I panicked because I didn’t want to lose you, so I took another step forward with you in hopes that would are it better. And I don’t regret any of that, but I wish I had tried to get a better understanding of your feelings and for that I’m sorry.”

You pursed your lips “It’s not your fault. I appreciate your apology and as much as I’d love to let you take the blame, some of it was my fault too. I wanted so badly to just be a part of your life that I gave up my own life for it. I loved being your girlfriend and everything that came with it, and when things got tough I never appreciated your support the way I should have. I never realized that you were only trying to help because I had my head so far up my own ass I couldn’t see straight. You did a lot to help me assimilate into your life and I never thanked you. I’m sorry too.”

He smiled a little, and then a lot “I know it’s crazy. But that offer about Florida is still there if you want it. I miss you and I want you there with me.”

You felt like you were melting as you walked forward wrapping your arms around his midsection “I missed you too. And if you want me to move to Florida with you, consider it done. I’d follow you to the North Pole Matthew Tkachuk.”

“The North Pole? Are you crazy. I barely made it here without freezing. How about we start with Miami? Sound good to you?” He smiled down at you.

“Anywhere with you does.”