#helmet jelly

[cryptidwithacopiccollection]

[gello-strands]

I'm so normal about them

(REBLOGS>LIKES!)

[enbyandyy]

screenshot from my first "proper" Minecraft world about 4 years ago

I hope to see you every time I generate a new

[artificialjealousyartist]

based on a Twitter trend with some outfit, I thought it gave motorcyclist vibes for some reason??

[donuts4evry1]

oh god I can't stop giggling,,

so like, Atollidae (the family of Atolla Jellyfish) is called "ヒラタカムリクラゲ科" in Japanese (translating to "Flat Crown Jellyfish" in English- very literal). This is a little weird, since the jellyfish in the family are known as "Purple Crown Jellyfish"

meanwhile, the family Periphyllidae is known simply as "クロカムリクラゲ科," or just "Black Crown Jellyfish"

which is funny considering that the jellyfish in this family are also known as "Black Crown Jellyfish" (I suspect the family is simply named after the common name of the animal, haha)

I'm not sure why I find it so funny tbh 🤔🤔, the fact that they decide to be literal with the family Atollidae while sticking to the common name with the family Periphyllidae is just a little weird to me ig?

When it comes to the common names, the naming conventions are eerily similar ("Purple Crown Jellyfish" and "Black Crown Jellyfish"), so ig the family names not reflecting this is kind of funny

[goomos-blog]

Arista

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon, virginity loss, degradation, abuse of power, Christianity, blasphemy, medieval times, corrupt priest, torture devices, abuse, punishment, misogyny, public humiliation, execution of non-named characters

♡ FEM reader

A scold's bridle, sometimes called a witch's bridle, a gossip's bridle, a brank's bridle, or simply branks, is an instrument of mirror punishment utilized by the church to publicly humiliate women who speak out of turn.

And you’ve unfortunately been deemed one of them…

You can only regret it now—wish you’d kept your mouth shut—wish you’d just held your tongue and spared yourself the poetic justice. You’d even been warned—that’s the dumb part, the part that makes the regret even more bitter. You’d been told gossipping would only land you in a world of hurt, and you, brave-faced and foolish, had ignored the advice. And now you’re facing the consequences.

Branks, an awful contraption, act as a muzzle in an iron framework, caging the head—quite like a helmet—a heavy helmet. Tight and trapping, it’s enough to make your head ache after a mere minute of wear. But that’s not the worst part. No, the worst part is the bridle-bit—a metal wedge about two inches long and one inch wide in size, of which they slide into your mouth, pressing down on top of your tongue—silencing you entirely. 

But being unable to talk is only the first and least of many discomforts—as it also makes your jaw cramp up, and makes a humiliating amount of drool run wild down your chin—making you look like some or other rabid street mutt that’s ben muzzled for its own good.

The chunky metal collar you’re made to wear doesn’t help negate that imagery, nor does the bell attached to it—drawing in the crowds to the town square where you’ve been put on display, fastened to the tron for public judgment and ridicule.

Oh, and they are full of it today.

Standing there, an army of justice—warped faces and pointed fingers. The kids throw rotten fruit, and the elders fouler words—calling you a Jezebel. 

At least you’re not alone up there but sharing the burden with a handful of other miscreants. One’s bent over in the pillory beside you—another three stand next to him up on the gallows, shaking in their piss-soaked boots, noose loosely around their necks—soon-to-be hangmen. 

Thank God the worst things are thrown their way—at least they’ll be set free of it soon. 

The poor sinners hang there still as the sun starts to set and most of the crowd’s gone home for the day, crows picking at the jelly of their dead eyes while the town’s church officer leads you away by leash.

With your hands and arms bound behind your back, you stumble barefoot and gracelessly through the streets—yanked along all the way from the town square up the hill to the church at the top for your final ruling. 

You’re made to kneel on the cobblestone where the clergyman chains your iron collar to the wall.

You’d always pitied those put in the jougs, though you’d also thought them deserving—never knowing you’d be one of them someday. Now you know first-hand what being deserving means. In a town as small as this, where word travels as quickly as you can speak them, only a few ill thoughts will turn everyone against you.

Everything is in a state of discomfort, but at least you’ve finally escaped the town people’s heckling—now secluded in the peaceful quiet of God’s house to reflect in solitude. 

Or… at least, that’s the standard procedure for such offenses.

“Alright then, little magpie,” the church officer announces while unscrewing the cruel headpiece.

It’s surprising. You’d for sure thought he’d leave it on. It was your understanding that it’s common for the scold to wear the bridle until morning and only then be freed. 

But in any case, be it by pity or mercy, you’re ever grateful nevertheless and won’t complain. 

But then, promptly after freeing your mouth from the bit, the man takes hold of your exhausted jaw and gives you a grave warning in its replacement, “Speak out of turn again, and it will go back on for another day in the tron.”

Goosefleshed and ashen from the spoken threat, you do your best to abide by it and remain quiet like the other church mice.

To which the father hums pleasedly, “Nod your head for me if you understand now, magpie.”

You do, looking up at him obediently—hoping he’d see it as enough and deem your punishment fully served, maybe even remove your bonds and collar as well.

“Good.” 

He smiles knowingly, then drops your head. Scoffing loudly, “But of course… a bitch will always prefer being free from the muzzle… Don’t necessarily make ‘em well-behaved.”

You flinch at the words, eyes wide, looking up into his gaze, feeling small under the weight as he leers down his nose at you worse than that of the crowd earlier. 

But what really makes your stomach curl are his ringed hands and how they move to his robes.

“Let’s see if this newfound virtue of yours is true and not just another one of your brazen tricks, shall we?” he suggests, leisurely undoing the knots to his drapes.

“When I’m done, and if you have managed to hold your tongue, I’ll consider you disciplined enough to return home,” he explains, dropping his attire unceremoniously by his feet before taking hold of your chin again. “If not, the bridle will go back on, and we will continue the lesson in the morning and every day onward until your mouth is as honest as if in the confessional.”

Your eyes flicker between his and peaking forward, barely withstanding whimpering when laying your eyes on it—the thing below his belly nearing your face.

“Remember now, magpie, no making a sound—neither word nor moan. I want complete silence.” 

The grip on your chin tightens, and your eyes dart back up to his. 

“Now open that gossiping trap of yours and accept God’s judgment.” 

His other hand holds it in a gentler caress from your face, giving it a few languid rubs before knocking it against your sealed lips, ordering them to open. 

It shocks you—enough to have you swallow a gasp—almost making an illicit sound that would all but seal your fate with the scold’s bridle for another day of suffering.

“Did you not hear me, girl? I said–” Impatient and roughened by his anger, he lets go of your jaw and deals a sharp blow to your cheek next. “Open your no-good sinning mouth!” 

The hand goes to your hair next, tangling within the tousled locks to give your scalp a hard tug.

Again you’re in danger of making a sound but manage to stifle it by screwing your eyes shut—quickly baring your tongue for the priest and pliantly accepting the salty offering placed upon it soon after as if receiving communion on any other Sunday mass.

“That’s it, magpie—” he says then, softer now in praise. “No more tall tales, no more nagging.” His grip eases up but remains to hold you steady as he slowly and rightfully slides his length down to the very back of your throat. Groaning, “Just be a good girl, now. Close your lips around me and suck—and you’ll soon be forgiven.”

You obey, locking your lips around him, tasting the sweat and tang, withstanding gagging as you force yourself into suckling and swallowing the foreign flavors down. 

“Good. You see?” he sighs out in a groan, pleased while fucking your mouth. 

Tangling both hands in your disheveled hair, he sets a rhythm of pulling you away and reeling you back in close—a tempo more than fair for an amateur throat like yours—only just deep and fast enough to make his weighty balls swing and graze your chin on every thrust. 

“If all a woman does is run ‘er mouth—only using it to bitch and moan—they’ll never learn what it’s truly good for,” he gruffs, sinking deeper and settling there, holding your skull in place from pulling back. “But I’ll show yah—don’t worry.”

Your head soon heats up—bleeding red and thick with it—feeling tight and trapped and in dire desperate need to draw air—or at the very least, make some sort of discomforted sound in lack of it—yet under strict order to remain deadly silent. 

“Good god, girl—I’m going all the way down that tight, hot guzzle—” he drawls, bullying deeper—and deeper. Hissing as he bottoms out, “Just the way God intended!”

His hips stutter, wearing your throat like a holster—lips stretched around his fat shaft, kissing his pubes with your nose buried in his well-fed belly.

With eyes rolling back beneath tightly shut lids, seeing spots of light in the enclosing void, you can’t help but flinch when hit with the glob of spit that falls and splatters between your brows. But at least the laughter that echoes throughout the church hall drowns out the sound of your heaving for air once he finally pulls out and frees your throat.

Maintaining a fist in your hair, he keeps you close—your temple to his hip, nose-kissing his strung shaft—struggling to catch your breath while his chuckles die down into humored hums.

“I’ve never had a throat that deep before,” he scoffs with a cruel smile—yanking your hair once again, pulling it back to make you face up. “One might call it witchcraft.” 

Another hard slap is dealt in the same spot as earlier. 

“Are you a witch maybe, magpie?” 

And a third smack. 

“Do I haf’to tie you to the stake next—have ourselves a roast?

Feeling your cheek sting white-hot, you shake your head—fighting to keep your whimpers at bay as silent tears dampen your cheeks—puffing up and rushing with blood post-strike, dulling to a numb yet lingering ache.

He doesn’t show mercy. Instead, it seems the pitiful display only makes him more rowdy—shoving you down to the cold cobblestone with an evil gleam in his eyes.

“Then let’s see you praise the Father,” he barks. “Bow and kiss his holy floor. I’ll judge whether you're a witch or not.”

You’re leash only barely gives you enough leeway to lower yourself. Hands remaining bound up tight behind your back, balled up and shaking in their knots as you bend over until your lips brush the dusty church stone.

“No, not a witch… but—” he hums, though not entirely convinced yet. “A true Christian would savor the taste of God's house.”

Your brows cinch, but you still do as suggested—producing your tongue and dragging it across the filthy tile—collecting dry silt and larger grains of sand—leaving behind a darkened wet trail on the otherwise ashen rock.

“That’s it, magpie,” the clergyman croons with a sneer. “Put that gossipping little tongue of yours to better use.”

You obey, eyes closed, continuing to lick the floor like a dog—fearing worse things would come if you didn’t. Wanting it all to be over and figuring if you just listen, it’ll be done quicker and as pain-free as you could hope.

“But do you deserve it?” he asks then, after a pause of watching you with his cock in hand, tugging it with raspy breaths getting rustier—continuing with a gritty tone, “An unwed woman can only serve the lord if she’s pure.”

His other hand returns to your hair for a third time, pulling you up by the tresses in a stinging grip.

“Are you pure, magpie?”

Goosefleshed by his darkened tone, you cower under his pointed glare. Keenly nodding your head as much as his hand allows.

Still, he doesn’t seem convinced. Huffing, “We’ll see.” 

He drops you again. Now, with a new order, “Turn and bow with your tongue back on the floor.”

You do as he says, though shakily. Gut folding and churning within—throat tight, even under the metal collar, snaring—making your head pound with alarm as you shift on your knees until you’re facing the wall with your back to him, lowering your head down until your swollen cheek neatly squish against the cool stone—tongue splayed out on the earthy rock once again—with your rear raised for the priest’s inspection.

Your nails sink into your palms in the same painful crescents as before while the clergyman lifts your greyed and tattered frock like he’s unveiling a blushing bride—and, similarly to the groom, throws the skirt atop your sloped back, bunched up with the rest of your dirtied dress—leaving your legs and thighs and ass bare to his preying eyes.

He rumbles heavily, pleased by the sight of your pretty little virgin cunt—quivering in the crude and callous open air.

Crouched behind you in perfect level with it, you can all but feel his eager leer rake through you before his finger does—slicing through your pussy-lips and quickly disappearing inside your formerly untouched hole.

You flinch, squirming at the unfamiliar feeling—breaths damp against the ground as you await the verdict.

“It’s tight,” he grumbles, assessing you with a knuckle-deep digit, before scoffing, “But surely… no true virgin is this wet.”

Your eyes widen at the accusation, and he slips his finger out again and stands up with a sigh, “I can’t make sure with a finger alone.”

Then suddenly, he grabs onto of your hanches and lifts your hips higher until your thighs straighten up—and promptly lays his still-hard and hot-blooded member to rest between the cheeks. With his knees bent, a toppling tower over you, he slides through the crevice, rubbing upon your scrunched asshole as he does.

You stir for the first time, but his hold tightens in turn.

“Keep that tongue out, magpie. And don’t you dare make a single sound, y’hear? Or else the branks go back on.”

You fall still—scared in place—eyes screwed shut as his cock falls from the peak of your ass down to your glistened entrance, prodding the small opening with the tip, trying to force it inside, but kept at bay until the narrow ring of muscle finally gave and allowed him to tear through.

“Wheew—undoubtedly a virgin!” he whistles with his head gaining purchase. Groaning at the close fit. “Taut and tight and sensitive—and just perfect for taking seed.”

Meanwhile, you suck in a gasp—tongue still pinned to the floor—only barely managing to suppress the cry that had wanted to follow. 

Choking it down, you nurse yourself through it with a string of deep breaths instead—even as he starts prying further inside—letting your cunt hold the head as he gives it shallow digs, working you open to take his full length.

“That’s it—good magpie,” he moans, pulling you back on his cock by your hips, treading you on like a sleeve. “Take it deep.”

He starts thrusting, and your breath weakens into thin stutters—tongue hanging limply from your mouth all on its own. Eyes glazed, looking toward nothing—rocked steadily as the corrupt priest pounds you like a cheap whore—sore cheek scraping against the stone floor. 

And still, you’re silent—as if having taken a vow.

The only sounds echoing throughout the church are the clergyman’s grunts and the steady fwop fwop fwop of his balls clapping your sopping cunt—almost reminiscent of the church bell’s clangoring.

“Almost there now, magpie,” he chimes from above. “Milk my cock and take my seed in your womb, and you’re forgiven.”

It almost sounds too good to be true. Even as everything aches and you’ve become certain you might just remain mute forever onward, the thought of freedom is enough to bring new hopeful tears to your pitiful eyes. So, as the warmth of his release soils your inside, it’s also joined by overwhelming relief.

A moment or more passes. You don’t take your tongue off the floor, and he remains above you, pumping his load into your deep, dumping it all at depth as if burying some dirty secret. 

At some point, he pulls out—cock now sluggish and spent. You feel its spillage matte on the inside of your thighs—also hidden as he drapes your skirt back in place.

Unbothered with his own clothes, he stands there before your bowed body—now with an accent of full-bellied satisfaction as he pronounces you free of sin in bad Latin—crossing his chest and kissing his knuckle before looking up to the ceiling at the God you’d grown sure he didn’t even believe in.

“Rejoice, magpie,” he mocks while leaning over you to untie your hands. “You’re now free to go.”

But as you lift your head, he still holds out on removing your collar. 

Holding your chin instead, he looks down at you like before, saying, “But it would do you good to remember…” His free hand taps your cheek, softer now but hard enough to make you cringe. “You run that bitch mouth again, and in my church on your knees is where you’ll end up. Understand?”

And just like before, you nod your head for him—still as silent as a church mouse eager to escape the beast’s ugly jaws.

He seems pleased with that and gives you a crooked smile, purring, “Good.” 

He then fishes the keys to your collar from his heaped robes and, at long last, unlocks it from your throat.

And by God, as you wobble out of the church, it feels as if you've been let free from hell.

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[zyhkoo]

🌊 love.

fluff, f!civilian. inspired by @mostly-imagines ‘ fics, slightly ooc i think..

( how jason’s stone heart softens around you. pt 2 )

Love was a very foreign concept for Jason. He has read books, watched movies with the batgirls and watch the corny love shows Dick binges but nothing seems to him show him how to love.

Sure, there are some things he likes. He likes a few things, but nothing seems to be ‘love.’

Love? It was only for the naive and the vulnerable. He had seen too many people get hurt, including himself. Love makes a person weak, those feelings would lead to mistakes and pain. So he thought he was better off without it. How could he love something, when he doesn’t even love himself?

It was a snowy night, he was leaned over some random apartment’s wall holding over his wound. His hand was pressed against his side as he felt the blood seep between his fingers. He grits his teeth in pain, the cold nipping at skin.

It was a bad night, he had been caught off by a group of criminals who ambushed and destroyed his earbud for communication. He had no choice but to seek refuge, the nearest safe house was 30 minutes away and he couldn’t make it. As the footsteps grew closer, Jason tensed up, his hand instinctively going for the gun strapped to his hip. But before he could draw his weapon, the figure came into view, wrapped in winter clothes for warmth.

Jason's eyes narrowed, trying to make out the figure's features in the low light. He had no idea if this person was a friend or foe, and as he was in no condition to fight, he would need to be cautious.

“Uh, hi?” you said, concerned about the guy on your porch. You had just come home from an odd dinner date and things couldn’t just get weirder.

Jason's eyes softened as he heard the voice addressing him. Despite his usual cold demeanor, he didn't want to startle or scare you. After all, he was in no condition to fight right now. "Hey," he responded, his voice strained from the pain. "Sorry to bother you. I just... needed a place to rest for a bit."

You looked at him, he had a damaged red helmet over his head, brown jacket and a wounded side.. isn’t this the vigilante guy? You stepped closer, but not too close. “You’re hurt.” you said, as you then looked around then back to him “D-do you need an ambulance or..?”

Jason huffed weakly, "Nah, I'll be fine. It's just a scratch" he said, trying to play it off. However, he knew he needed to do something about the wound soon. "Do you, uh, mind if I come inside for a bit? I won't be a bother, I promise."

You slowly nodded “Yeah.. yeah of course let me help.” you said as you reached out to him. Jason nodded in appreciation. He winced slightly as you reached out, still feeling the pain from his wound, but he knew he couldn't refuse any help he could get.

He leaned on you for support as he slowly stood up, his legs feeling like jelly. "Thanks," he muttered quietly. "I owe ya one, doll." You propped him on your couch, you looked down at his bleeding wound. “I can help.. uh, I know a bit of nursing.” you said.

He looked up at you, his eyes studying you intently, trying to gauge your intentions. He didn't know you, but he had no other option at the moment.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" he asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

“Yeah, wait, let me find my first aid.” As you came back with the kit in your hand, you kneeled, lifting his shirt up to see the damage. As you looked at his wounded side, you could see the deep gash across his abdomen, with blood slowly seeping from the edges. It was a nasty wound, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with basic medical supplies.

Jason winced slightly as you touched his sides, hissing in pain. "It's not as bad as it looks." he muttered, trying to sound tough. You gave a skeptical look at his comment but continued to tend to his wound. As you pulled out some gauze and antiseptic, you couldn't help but notice the numerous scars that covered his stomach and chest.

Jason noticed your curious glances, and a flicker of unease passed through his eyes. He was used to the scars by now, but he still felt a sense of discomfort whenever someone would glance at them. He knew they were hard to ignore, but he preferred keeping them hidden whenever possible. He didn't like showing weakness, and the scars were a clear sign of his failures.

You continued on your work as you placed the antiseptic “This will sting.”

"Just do it," he said through clenched teeth. "I can handle it."

You proceeded to gently wipe the area around the wound with the antiseptic, making sure to clean out any dirt or debris that might have gotten inside. He tensed up, groaning slightly as the antiseptic stung his skin. You knew he tried to hide his discomfort.

“Sorry if I stared.” you said as you started to wrap the bandages, “That was rude of me.”

"It's fine," he said, his voice gruff as he spoke. "I know I'm not the prettiest sight to behold." you couldn't help but frown at his comment. There was more to him than just his scars, you thought. But you knew better than to say anything about it.

You wrapped the final knot as you dusted your hands, “I’m done.”

"Thanks," he tried to sit up straight, wincing slightly as he put pressure on his wound. You tried to make him sit “Woah woah, okay, don't push yourself.” He allowed you to gently push him back down onto the couch. He wasn't used to being told what to do, but he couldn't deny that he was still fairly weak from his injury.

"I'm fine," he muttered.

“What are you exactly?” you asked, brows furrowing. He paused for a bit, thinking on his answer " I'm a vigilante," he said, "I patrol the streets at night and take care of the bad guys."

“Do you… kill people?” He looked away, unable to meet your gaze. "Sometimes," he said quietly, his tone distant. "When there's no other choice."

"I don't enjoy it," he continued, "But sometimes violence is the only language criminals understand." You tell your name as he nodded in response, “Call me, Red Hood.” he said. You looked at him, pointing at his head “But that’s a helmet.” you said. He huffs “Well, I don’t exactly go around telling people my name sweetheart.”

Jason looked out the window, noting the late hour. He knew that he should get going— the night would not wait for him. He shifted on the couch, wincing slightly as he jostled his wounded side. "I should probably get going," he said, slowly getting up from the couch. Your eyed widened as you stood up as well “What? Are you sure?”

Jason nodded, gritting his teeth as he tried to stand up straight. He could already feel the pull of the stitches in his side, but he didn't want to worry you any more than he already had. "I'll be fine," he said, even though he was still somewhat wobbly on his feet. "I've had worse."

You watch him open your window and left to the snowy cold city. You walked towards your window, hands on the railings as you saw him leave, “Stay safe!” you yelled out. He turned slightly and nodded, giving you a small wave before disappearing into the shadows of the city.

About 2 days passed, somehow.. he felt this itch. He wanted to return the favor. It was a foreign feeling for him— he wasn't used to caring about anyone besides himself. But something about you just wouldn't leave his mind.

Like why does it even matter? You 're just some rando who treated his wounds.

…And so, on the third day, he decided to pay a visit to your apartment.

He didn’t know how to approach this situation, he landed on your fire escape. The steel slightly shook from his weight. He paused as he reached your window, peering through the glass with hesitance in his eyes. The blinds were closed, but he could see your silhouette from the light.

Jason tried to get a better view of you through the slits in the blinds. He wasn't sure why he was being so cautious— after all, he was the one who had decided to come here.

God this was so stupid.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the glass, signaling his presence. You were in the middle of making yourself a cup of tea when you heard a knock on the window. You were confused, and a little creeped out. Who would be knocking this late at night?

Curiosity getting the better of you, you walked towards the window and pulled the blind strings, white lenses widening at the sight of a figure standing on your fire escape. You let out a surprised noise as you saw him. You opened the window as you felt the cold air come in “Red Hood? Why are you here?”

Jason hopped into your apartment, his boots making a soft thud as he landed. He looked around for a moment, taking in the cozy space before focusing his gaze back on you. He shrugged, as if his presence here was no big deal. "Just thought I'd return the favor," he replied.

Your eyes darted around the room, “Er, by how?”

…Shit, he didn’t even think of what to return. Jason cursed under his breath, fuck why didn’t he thought this through?

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to come up with something quickly. “I could uh, keep an eye on you. Make sure no one bothers you.” he says “If I see a shady guy sneaking around your fire escape i’ll shoot em’”

Jason mentally facepalmed at his own words. That was stupid, he thought. You probably didn't need him lurking outside your window like some kind of oversized bodyguard. You looked at your table with your tea set and back to him “Do you want tea?” you invited.

He paused for a moment before nodding slightly, “Yeah.. yeah sounds nice.” he said as he took a seat.

You then remembered he wore a helmet, “Wait— I can just drink in another direction while you…” he takes off his helmet and saw him with a domino mask. He had a white streak on his hair and he looked younger than you expected, about your age actually. “…drink.”

"Yeah," he snorts, unable to hide a hint of amusement in his voice. "I can't exactly drink with a helmet on." You sat in front of him as you poured the warm tea in his cup. He picked up the cup, wrapping his fingers around the warm porcelain. The aroma of tea drifted up towards him, and he took a small sip, relishing the hot liquid as it warmed his chest.

“Are you really here to return the favor?” you asked, looking up at him. “Yeah, I am,” he replied, “I don’t like owing people favors, much less owing one to someone I just met.” he added, "But I also wanted to check on you. Make sure you're alright."

“I’m alright.” you replied “You don’t have to return the favor, you know.” Jason shakes his head "I'm a man of my word," he retorted, "I don't like leaving things unfinished."

He took another sip of his tea, the hot liquid giving him a moment to think. "Besides," he continued, "It's not like I have anything better to do." you raised your brow, “You probably do.” you said as you sipped your tea.

“Well, yeah maybe so. But still.” Jason leaned back slightly in his seat, swirling the tea in his cup as he tried to find the right words. He knew you were right— there was always something for him to do out there on the streets. “I’d rather be here, to be honest,” he darts his eyes away from yours.

You warmly flashed a smile “Sure, you can come over anytime.” he raised his brow, "You sure about that?” he asked, a touch of humor in his voice. "You don't even know my real name."

You hummed “True, but I don’t really have any company.”

Jason studied you for a moment, trying to gauge the sincerity in your words. It was hard for him to believe that someone would be so carefree about inviting a masked vigilante into their home. But there was something genuine in your expression, a loneliness that mirrored his own.

He took another sip of tea, mulling your words over. "What, no boyfriend?” he lets put an amused scoff. Your hand moved across your neck with a bitter expression. He knew that look all too well— the look of someone with a bitter past.

"Bad breakup?" he asked. You sighed as your eyes darted down, “Yeah, it was really messy.” you said, sipping some tea.

He didn't push you for more details, knowing that you would share only as much as you were comfortable with. Instead, he simply nodded, "I can imagine," he said quietly. “It happened two days ago actually, when you sat on my porch injured.”

Jeez, how he felt terrible.

"It was that recent?" he asked and you nodded. Jason felt guilt as he realized the timing of his visit. You had been dealing with a breakup when he had shown up randomly on your doorstep. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Bad timing, I guess." you chuckled “No, it’s fine. I guess it’s better than sulking to myself. I mean it's.. really weird but, hey.”

He let out a soft scoff, his lips curling into a slight smirk. “Yeah, I guess I’m better company than crying alone in the dark.”

Over the next few days, He would find himself returning to your apartment. Even though he was very hesitant at first, he found himself unable to stay away. He tells himself… it was just a matter of returning a favor, but he knew there was more to it than that. Your apartment had become a sort of like haven for him, a place where he could let his guard down and be himself.

Every two nights, he would make his way through the city, cloaked in shadows until he reached your window, slipping through your window without a word and settling on your couch. Each time, he would sit in silence for a few moments, as if checking to see if he was welcome or if you would turn him away. But you always seemed to accept his presence without question, offering him a cup of tea or a light conversation.

Was it stupid and dangerous for the two of you? Yes. Does he still visit you anyway? Yes.

It was another night, and Jason found himself making his way towards your apartment once again. He had gotten used to this routine, this quiet comfort of slipping through your window and finding a place on your couch. As he landed on your fire escape, he took a moment to scan the area, making sure no one had followed him. Satisfied that he was alone, he let himself into your apartment, as usual.

He entered your kitchen in his usual stealthy manner, taking off his helmet and setting it on your table. As he did, he caught sight of you sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone.

You looked up at him, “You’re a day early.” you said. He gave a soft scoff, “Am I not welcome here anymore?” you shook your head, “No, no, no, you are.”

“Good,” he replied, taking a seat on the couch. “You know you shouldn’t treat other randos like this if I’m gone.” you rolled your eyes as you stood from your seat and shuffled in your cabinets, “I know, I’m not dumb.” you replied. "Just making sure,” shrugged, you could tell that he was teasing you a bit. “Wouldn’t want some sketchy guy taking advantage of your kind heart.”

"Oh, shut it,” you retorted, turning to look at him. “I’m not that easy to take advantage of.” Jason let out a huff “Oh really? Seems to me like you're letting me waltz into your home every other night without complaint.”

You let out a huff, trying not to let your frustration show. He had a point… but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

"That’s different,” you protested. "You’re not some random creep." Jason smirked, enjoying your reaction. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he looked up at you. "But you barely know me," he said, "For all you know, I could be some criminal mastermind, pretending to be a nice guy."

You took a box of macaroni and turned back to him with a glare, “Are you asking to get kicked out?” you don’t actually mean it, but he could be right. Jason knew you weren’t being serious, but the hint of truth in your words made him tense.

"No, I’m not asking to get kicked out,” he assured you, "I’m grateful for your hospitality, honest." You did a smug smile, “That’s what I thought.” you said as you started to cook some macaroni.

He huffed as he leaned back on the couch, watching you work. He couldn’t help but find your confidence amusing.. the way you weren’t afraid to stand up to him or tease him back.

He shifted in his seat, feeling uncomfortable with his own relaxed behavior. He couldn’t quite figure out why he was so at ease around you. Maybe it was the fact that you accepted him without question even though you shouldn’t, or maybe it was something else entirely. He couldn’t quite pin it down.

But.. either way, he admits he enjoys this.

Jason was used to bantering with his siblings, it came naturally to them. Here, it felt lighter. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

His next visit was odd, it was a different visit from the usual. Jason arrived slightly later than usual, a scowl on his face and a heavy air of frustration surrounding him. As he slipped through your window, you could immediately tell something was off. He didn’t offer his usual greeting, and his shoulders were tense, as if he was carrying a weight heavier than usual.

He didn’t even take his helmet off, you can’t help but be worried so you walked over to him, “Are you okay, Hood?” you asked, testing the waters. Jason’s eyes flicked up to look at you as you approached him. Yet he still felt cold.

He let out a scoff, his gaze somewhere else. “I’m fine,” he muttered. You took a cautious step closer to him, your eyes studying him carefully. "Something happened?" you asked quietly, keeping your voice gentle.

Your hand hovered in the air, unsure what to do. You didn’t want to piss him further, you don’t know what he was like when he was angry. He knew that he was giving off an intimidating aura, but part of him couldn’t help but wish you would reach out.

He let out another sigh, trying to reign in his temper. "You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me," he muttered. Okay, well now you felt a little relieved at his words. You weren’t sure how he would react if you pushed further, but you also knew he needed someone to talk to.

You sat in the couch beside him, your hand finally landing on his shoulder. “You know you can talk to me, right?” you said softly. You could feel him tense up slightly, but he didn’t shrug you off.

He let out another sigh, the tension in his body slowly starting to uncoil. “It’s just family stuff,” he admitted, his voice quiet. Your eyes softened as your hand moved to his back, “You wanna talk about it?” you asked. Jason looked at you for a moment, his eyes fixed on your face. The sight of your soft, empathetic expression made his walls crumble slightly, and he found himself nodding.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” he said gruffly, setting his helmet down on the coffee table. He leaned back on the couch, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just family issues, nothing new. My siblings all drive me crazy, and everyone’s got their own drama going on. Can’t seem to catch a break.”

You pulled your legs up on the couch, “Big family?” you asked. He looked over at you, a hint of humor in his eyes. "Have you ever tried dealing with seven stubborn people under one roof?" you softly chuckled with a small smile, “Yeah, I get it.” Jason's lips tugged into a slight smile at your response, "Yeah, I figured you might.”

Your hand left his back, “You want tea?” he nodded. “Yeah, thanks.” It was oddly comforting, how you offered small acts of kindness without asking anything in return. He watched as you placed the tea set on the coffee table, the aroma of the tea starting to fill the room. He found himself strangely at ease, the tension from before slowly seeping away.

“Here you go.” you said as you handed him a cup. Jason accepted the cup of tea from you, his fingers brushing against yours briefly.

You watched as he took a sip, his shoulders relaxing a bit. "Feeling any better?" you asked, your voice gentle. Jason paused for a moment, taking another sip of tea before answering. For him, it was nice to have someone to talk to, someone who didn’t judge him or try to fix his problems.

"Yeah," he replied, "A bit. Talking about it helps, I guess." You softly smiled, “You can always talk to me Hood.”

Jason studied your face, noticing the way your soft smile and kind eyes almost made him want to spill all his deepest secrets. He couldn’t quite pin it down, but there was something about you that made him feel comfortable. Like he could trust you with his thoughts and feelings.

As he took another sip of tea, he found himself questioning whether he should reveal his real identity. It would certainly make things easier if you knew his real name… He placed the empty cup on the table, his mind still conflicted. It was a big step, revealing his identity to you. But something inside him urged him to take the risk.

“Jason’s fine.” he mumbles. You looked up at him with a curious glance, “What?”

"Forget the whole Red Hood thing,” he repeated, his voice a bit more clear this time. “You can just call me Jason.” You were stunned for a moment, you didn’t expect him to tell his name so soon— or at all for that matter. Jason could hear his own heartbeat in his chest as he waited for your reaction. Finally, you broke the silence “Then.. you can always talk to me, Jason.”

"Thanks," he replied quietly, the words holding a weight he couldn’t quite explain. "Really."

Over the next several weeks, Jason continued to find himself seeking out your company, the comfort of your presence soothing his troubled mind. Every time he dropped by, he found himself slowly letting down more and more of his walls. The rough exterior he wore like a protective suit was slowly replaced with a softer, more vulnerable one.

In all his years of being Red Hood, of being a vigilante, he had never allowed himself to get close to someone in that way.

But as he spent more time with you, he found himself slowly questioning that belief. The more he got to know you, the more he realized that maybe he was wrong. Maybe love wasn’t a weakness, but a strength. Maybe it was something that could actually make him feel alive for once.

Jason avoided the idea of love, convinced that it was something to be feared and avoided. He had witnessed the pain and heartbreak it could cause, both in his own life and in the lives of others.

And yet, as he got to know you better and better, he found himself gradually starting to question this belief. Your presence had begun to erode the walls he had built around his heart, revealing a vulnerable side of him that he had long thought dead.

He felt his hard stone heart soften around yours.

You opened the blinds on your window, looking at the snow up ahead. “I wonder when spring will come.” you commented. He leaned back in the couch, stretching out his legs in front of him. "Spring can't come soon enough," he muttered, his voice slightly gruff but lacking its usual edge. "I'm getting tired of freezing my ass off every night."

“Well, it’s already the start of the year.” you said.

Jason let out a scoff, his eyes drifting towards the calendar on your wall. Sure enough, the first month of the year was already marked off. "Yeah, and spring is like three months away," he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's still a long way to go."

You sighed, “Right.” you said as you closed the blinds. Jason watched as you closed the blinds, shutting out the snowy landscape outside. The room seemed oddly devoid of color without the light filtering through the glass. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "At least the days are getting longer again," he pointed out, a hint of optimism in his voice. "The nights will get shorter eventually."

"Yeah, that's true," you agreed, "Soon we'll be complaining about how it's too hot instead of too cold."

"Yeah, and then we'll be wishing for winter again," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Never satisfied, are we?" You then remembered something, “Oh, by the way— look what I got for Christmas.” you pulled a box and opened the lead to reveal the record player. "A record player, huh?" he said, a "Who gave you that?"

“My dad,” you replied, “my mom gave me vinyls too.” you smiled as you pulled out a few of them. He leaned closer, peering at the titles you had pulled out. "Let me see..." he said, reaching out to take one of the records from your hand.

You handed him the record, and Jason carefully examined the album cover, running his fingers over the worn edges. He let out a soft scoff as he saw the cover. "Aerosmith, huh?" He said, ”I see your parents have good taste."

You chuckled at his comment, a smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, my dad's a big fan," you replied. "He's always saying that '70s and '80s rock is the best music." you took out some jazz records, “There's these too.”

"Jazz? Your parents really know what they're doing. Good taste in music, that's for sure." he said. You smiled, “I didn’t take you for a jazz guy.”

"There's a lot you don't know about me," he scoffs, his eyes flickering back to you. You took the record from his hands, “Do you want me to play it?” you asked.

“Go for it.” he replied.

You crouched as you carefully placed the record on the turntable, setting the needle gently down. The soft crackle of the vinyl filled the room before the smooth, melodious sounds of the jazz instrumental began to play. You stood back up and looked at him, “What do you think?” Jason listened to the music, a thoughtful expression on his face as he soaked in the mellow tones. "It's nice," he replied.

Your expression softens, “My parents loved dancing to this, I’m glad they gave it to me.” Jason looks at your expression, "You must have a lot of good memories with them.”

"I remember watching them dance to this in the living room. They were so in sync back then, like they were made for each other." Jason listens to your words and pauses for a bit, he then stands up. “Do you want to dance?”

You sheepishly smiled “Oh— no I’m good I don’t know how to dance.” Jason extends his hand, "Dancing isn't exactly rocket science, you know," he said. "I'm sure I can teach you a thing or two. I’ll take the lead.”

He wasn’t lying, he had a lot of experiences dancing in Bruce’s Galas. "C'mon," he extends his hand further, "It's easy, trust me. I've had plenty of practice." You were complementing to take his hand or not, you then gave up as you took his hand.

Jason smiled as you placed your hand in his. He gently pulled you closer to him, his other hand finding its way to your waist. "Just follow my lead," he instructed, his eyes darting to you.

The music continued to play in the background as Jason slowly began to move, his feet guiding you through the steps. He kept his grip on your waist light but firm, his body slightly brushing against yours with each step. “Like this?” you asked sheepishly. Jason nodded, "Yeah, just like that, doll.”

He moved a bit closer to you, adjusting the position of your other arm.

You huffed, “Last time I did this was like.. high school prom.” Jason huffs, finding your comment amusing. He twirled you around slightly, the movement fluid and elegant. "I'm honored that you're dancing with me instead of some prep school kid.” You stumbled slightly at the unexpected twirl, laughing as you clutched onto him for balance. "I think I prefer dancing with you over some sweaty teenager.”

He huffs, "And why's that?"

“Because I like you.” you simply said.

His heart lurched in his chest at your words, your casual confession sending a flutter through his entire body. "You do, huh?" he asked quietly. “Why would I lie?” you answered. Jason let out a huff, his expression softening as he looked at you. "I don’t know, people lie all the time,” he said, as he looked down. His grip on you grew firmer, his hand on your waist pulling you closer. "But you sound sincere enough."

The air between you felt thick, the music now almost background noise. Jason's eyes were locked with yours, his expression unreadable yet somehow more open than you'd ever seen before. He took a step closer, his chest now touching yours as he gently continued to move you both in time with the music.

Your head then moved to lean on his chest. He held you close, his heartbeat steady and strong under your touch. Slowly, he leaned his head down, his chin resting on the top of your head. It was a vulnerable gesture, one that somehow felt more intimate than the dancing.

The only sound in the room was the steady thump of his heart against your ear and the soft, soothing tones of the instrumentals.

This was love. The feeling of your body against his, the way you leaned on him so trustingly, the sound of his heartbeat in your ears. It all felt so... right. He held you close, his arms encircling your frame as he continued to move with you to the music, his heart full and conflicted.

But there was fear there too. Fear of losing this, of losing you. The thought of something happening to you, of losing this quiet moment filled him with dread. The final notes of the song faded, leaving the room in a silent, intimate embrace.

Jason continued to hold you against his chest, his chin still resting on the top of your head. He didn’t want to let go, his arms around you not loosening even slightly.

He swallowed hard, his voice a low murmur as he broke the silence. "You're a good dancer." you hummed against his chest, “Mm, thanks.” you responded.

🌊 part 2. please like and reblog!! discord server

[brittle-doughie]

Beast Stars (The Five Virtues/Beasts)

[Compassion/Scorn AU]

Platinum Salt Cookie: *hands Y/N a flower*

You: “It’s pretty, I love it, dear friend!”

You kiss their helmet where their cheek is located. You can’t see it, but Platinum Salt is blushing under the helmet.

Blueberry Milk Cookie: “Oh, Y/N Cookie! Look what I got for you!”

Blueberry Milk Cookie got you a whole bouquet of flowers that he hands you with suppressed giddiness!

You: “O-Oh! These are very lovely too, Blueberry Milk! Thank you!”

You kissed his cheek too which makes Blueberry smile widely. Platinum Salt didn’t appreciate being upstaged as a figurative fire ignited around them as they glared down Blueberry Milk.

Pure Sugar Cookie then abruptly showed up with a mountain of flowers.

Pure Sugar Cookie: “Even then, this wouldn’t be enough to show how much I cherish you, Y/N Cookie!”

You: “Oh my…..”

Pure Sugar Cookie: “Gimme kiss. Preferably on the lips!”

Platinum Salt had an anger tick on their helmet.

Blueberry Milk Cookie: “Showoff!”

———————————————————————

You: “I miss having cookies around…”

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Oh? Has the almighty, yet cranky Y/N Cookie learn to love again? In that case…”

You: “I miss reducing them to crumbs for having the nerve to fall for me.”

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Oh…can you still do that to me though?”

Mystic Flour Cookie: “Shut your freaky ass up, Shadow Milk Cookie.”

———————————————————————

Crimson Spice Cookie: “Why has Y/N Cookie been locked up in their room?”

Ethereal Flour Cookie: “They accidentally stepped on a Jelly Bee. It flew away just fine, but Y/N Cookie is in despair over it.”

———————————————————————

You hand gifts to Silent Salt Cookie and Eternal Sugar Cookie.

Silent Salt Cookie: “…” (They made it clear that they “hated” your gift.)

You smirked as you thanked them for “hating” it. Now it was Eternal Sugar’s turn-

Eternal Sugar Cookie: “I love it-“

Eternal Sugar Cookie was immediately yeeted into the stratosphere.

———————————————————————

You: “What do you got in your book there, Blueberry Milk Cookie?”

Blueberry Milk Cookie: “Only the finest knowledge that spans across all of Earthbread! I like to read it in my past times when I’m done with my duties for today!”

You: “You must be pretty smart with the knowledge of the land in your hands!”

Blueberry Milk Cookie: “Yes, of course! I am the Virtue of Knowledge after all, let me show you a page of my book-“

Photos of you slip out of random pages from his book after he accidentally opened it a little too loosely. Some looked like they were peppered in what looked like coral blue #2 semiglass lipstick!

You: “Very knowledgeable of Earthbread indeed, my friend. Perhaps a little too much information?”

Blueberry Milk Cookie: “These are necessary for my pursuit of knowledge, I swear!”

[megalony]

He Can't Have You- Part 2

Thank you all for the amazing feedback on this Evan Buckley imagine, I hope you will like this follow up.

Please let me know what you think.

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Evan Buckley Masterlist

Part 1

Summary: (Y/n) and Evan's baby is due any day now, therefore (Y/n) hangs around the station a lot so she isn't alone. But things take a bad turn when her ex finds her. And kidnaps her.

Enjoy.

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

A groan tumbled past Evan's lips as he hopped down from the truck, feeling like his legs were about to turn to jelly. Both hands moved to press against his back as he leaned his chest back and clicked his spine into place like a neon glowstick.

He was ready to go home. He didn't want to be back on the ladders for a week at least; he didn't want to look at those ladders for what remained of his shift today. Not after he had almost fallen down them and had been running up and down those ladders more times than a yoyo.

His boots thudded against the floor as he trudged towards the lockers and shrugged off his helmet and jacket. He slung the jacket on the hanger and dumped the hat on the shelf before he turned and walked towards the stairs.

If the bell went off within the next hour, Evan was going to scream. They had been on that call for over three hours; he wanted something to eat and a chance to rest before another call had them running around and burning what little energy each of them had left.

His head tilted back and he tried to plaster a smile on his face and make himself look a bit more lively as he jogged up the stairs towards the annex.

He wanted to see (Y/n). She had been here for a bit over three hours now so Evan wanted to make sure she was alright and see what she had been up to. When she stayed at the station last week during a long call, they all came back to find she had done some baking in their absence.

Evan trudged towards the sofas in the right hand corner, but the tv was off and the area was vacant. His shoulders sagged a little and he twisted to the left instead to head into the kitchen.

He could see two new starters lounging around the pool table, chittering away while the radio played an eighties station in the background. But no one else was in the kitchen. There was no one else up here. He walked past the kitchen towards the pole at the far end, just to mae sure that (Y/n) wasn't hanging around anywhere, but his wife wasn't anywhere in sight.

Maybe she was in the toilet, after all the toilets and the showers were all downstairs at the far back of the station. Evan highly doubted she would be in the bunker room, he knew his wife and he knew she would be much too anxious to try and take a nap here at the station. Especially if Evan was out on a call.

His boots sounded even heavier as he stomped down the stairs and made his way down the corridor instead. But when he walked by the locker room, he paused and peered his head in the doorway at the sight of a familiar face.

"Alex, have you seen (Y/n) around?"

He knew Alex, Johnny and Amber were all on the back up shift, they stayed at the station in case any other calls happened while the rest of them were already out in the first truck. Evan figured Alex would have been milling about the station, going to the gym and tidying up while he waited for a call. He should have seen (Y/n) at some point.

The blond turned around and cast a familiar grin over his shoulder in Evan's direction. Although he did narrow his eyes a like he thought Evan was asking a stupid question."

"Your wife?" When Evan nodded, Alex shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "Nah I haven't seen her in a couple hours. Her car alarm went off and she went to sort it out, haven't seen her since. She's probably headed home."

With a deflated 'thanks' and his fingers drumming on the doorframe, Evan pushed off the door and briskly walked down the corridor towards the back doors.

Why would (Y/n) leave without telling him? Why would she leave at all when she was here specifically so she wouldn't be home alone?

She was nine months pregnant, Evan had cleared it with Bobby for (Y/n) to come down to the station so he could be nearby and so (Y/n) would always be with someone if she went into labour. And Evan knew for a fact that his sister was working today so (Y/n) wouldn't have left to go and spend time with Maddie. She should still be here. She shouldn't have gone anywhere, (Y/n) promised she would stay and hang around until Evan got back.

A frown etched deep into his features as he wrangled in his pocket to find his phone.

He had no messages and no missed calls from (Y/n), surely if she left she would have told him she was going so he wouldn't be confused or worried.

He scrolled down and clicked on (Y/n)'s contact, raising the phone to his ear while it rung out and he headed out into the car park. But as he pushed open the back door, a horrible twisting feeling ignited in his gut when he heard a familiar sound.

(Y/n)'s ringtone. Her phone was outside.

Evan stormed out into the car park, his eyes frantically searching around but there was no one out here. He was alone, and yet he could still hear (Y/n)'s phone, the ringtone was getting louder. His blue eyes deepened as he tried to locate (Y/n)'s car. It was dead ahead of him.

She wouldn't have walked home, it was too far to walk especially when she had clearly been in discomfort earlier. There was no reason why (Y/n) would walk home and leave her car stranded here at the station.

When something crunched beneath his boot, Evan lowered his phone from his ear and took a step back as he looked down.

Oh God.

(Y/n)'s car keys. (Y/n)'s phone. (Y/n)'s bag. All three articles were cascaded on the floor in an odd pattern like they had been dropped in a hurry.

He numbly slid his phone back into his pocket after ending the pointless call and reached down to pick up her things. Her phone and keys were stone cold, they had been out here for a while.

Dread dwelled in the pit of Evan's stomach that was now churning like a washing machine and he could scarcely catch a single breath. His features began to turn a deep shade of red and his chest began to tighten and twitch until he had to gasp to get a proper mouthful of air.

Something had happened to (Y/n), he just knew it. He could feel it, like melted silver hardening to steel in his bones that now felt heavy and weighed down. It took all the effort Evan had to get his legs moving and scramble back inside when he simply wanted to collapse down to his knees and wallow in his own bubble of panic.

He began to suffer tunnel vision, only seeing the imagine of Bobby stood far ahead at the other end of the corridor. Blackness started to creep in around the edges of his sight and one hand had to plaster along the wall to keep himself upright as he continued to struggle for air.

The moment Bobby was within reach, Evan clamped his hand down on his Captain's shoulder and leaned against him like he was about to pass out. He felt Hen quickly reach out to grab his arm, trying her best to steady him and assess him in case he had suddenly taken a bad turn or felt sick.

"Buck. what's the matter?" The concern in Hen's voice did nothing to make Evan feel any better. If anything, it brought tears to his eyes as he sucked in a deep breath and moved his hands, motioning to (Y/n)'s phone and bag that were trembling in his grip.

"Something's wrong with (Y/n)."

"Where is she, did her waters break?"

"She's- fuck, she's not here. Her car's still parked up, but I- I found her bag and keys on the floor outside, no one's seen her in a few hours. She's not okay."

Bobby's hand stayed on Evan's shoulder but he leaned back to cast his eyes around the station floor and look up towards the annex like he expected (Y/n) to suddenly appear and tell them otherwise. If her things were left outside but her car was still here then that suggested that something had happened. She had been caught up in some kind of emergency. She had witnessed something outside and tried to help. She had felt unwell and tried to leave or find someone to help her.

None of those explanations made sense to any of them and when Bobby let go of Evan in favour of going to gather the rest of the team, Evan leaned towards Hen. He felt faint. Something was wrong, he knew it, but he had no idea what had happened or if (Y/n) was okay or harmed or suffering or somewhere unsafe.

What had happened to his wife?

***

"(Y/n) honey tell me what's happened."

Maddie pressed her microphone closer to her mouth and tried to secure the ear piece around the back of her ear a little better. She wanted to make sure she heard every word her sister in law spoke, she had to get every detail and find out what exactly was going on.

Her sister said she didn't know where she was and that she was in labour, two horrible combinations that shouldn't be put together. But Maddie couldn't fathom how (Y/n) didn't know where she was. Surely if she had been driving and got lost she would use the apps on her phone to find her location or look for signs or ask around. And why would she be driving somewhere unfamiliar? Where had she been going?

She scooted her chair closer to the desk while her feet tapped against the floor to rid herself of the nervous energy building up inside of her. She had no idea what was happening.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard and she typed in a few codes, but her eyes narrowed and she leaned closer to the screen.

Why couldn't the computer get an accurate location from (Y/n)'s phone? Why wasn't the signal working properly?

"(Y/n), talk to me."

Bowing her head down, (Y/n) tried to stop the tears that were furiously drenching her face like rainfall in the Amazon. Her shoulders were quaking and her body was hunched over, trying her best to make herself as small as possible. Not that there was anyone around, anyway.

"Caleb, he- oh, he made me go with him… I don't- I don't know where I am. I had to hurt him, he had a knife."

More tears continued to spill down her face as she gasped and snivelled through her words. She didn't have a choice. Hurting Caleb, getting hurt herself, it was all necessary to get away from him. He had done this, (Y/n) didn't have a choice or a chance against him.

Her palm pressed against the side of her stomach when another contraction tore through her and she sobbed, trying her best to hold herself together and make sure she didn't drop the phone. Her only connection to Maddie; to the rest of the world; to safety.

It had taken long enough for (Y/n) to find an area in this vast, stupid landscape where she had enough signal to hear Maddie rather than listening to a crackling, distant sound. It had been like trying to work out Morse Code without any training or information.

At least while (Y/n) was hunched down near a wall with the road still within sight, (Y/n) was safe and she had a signal. She wasn't willing to move from this spot until someone came to help her.

"Oh my God, is he still trying to hurt you? Are you outside or inside somewhere?" Leaning back in her chair, Maddie waved her hand until she gained Josh's attention and beckoned him towards her.

He murmured a soft "Okay?" as his brows furrowed and he looked between her and the computer screen to try and see what call she was taking.

"It's (Y/n)," Maddie covered her hand over her microphone so her sister wouldn't hear. "Her ex kidnapped her and now she's in labour. I can't get a good signal and she doesn't know where she is."

The agony in Maddie's voice was clear. She needed help. She needed Josh to get the police on the line and get eyes in the sky. They needed to pinpoint (Y/n)'s location so they could send help to her and make sure she and the baby were okay. No one wanted her to have this baby alone and Maddie knew her brother would suffer a breakdown if he wasn't there for the birth. If he wasn't there to look after (Y/n) and hold her hand.

With a nod of his head, Josh took a few steps away so he could start making the necessary calls. They would find (Y/n). They would make sure help got sent to her. They wouldn't leave her there alone.

"(Y/n), is he still trying to hurt you?"

"No, I h-hit him, with a rock and tried to get a-away- oow, Maddie it hurts."

It hurt so much.

(Y/n) didn't want to be here. She wanted to be back at the station, back where she was safe. Where she was with Evan and his colleagues and people who would look after her and protect her rather than try to harm her. She wished she had let Alex go out and turn off her car alarm rather than insisting on doing it herself. She wished she had asked him to go with her or that someone else had been around to see what happened and stop Caleb from taking her the way he did.

She wished a lot of things, but the biggest one playing on her mind was wishing Evan would suddenly appear out of nowhere. She wanted him here. She needed him here.

"That's good. I'm trying to get a location on your phone, as soon as I have that I can send help to you but don't worry, I'm staying on the line with you."

Why didn't Maddie know where she was? Why couldn't she find the location quicker and help? Why couldn't someone be right around the corner who was able to come and help her?

Her chin tucked down into her chest when another contraction burned through her abdomen and split her skin apart. A pitiful cry escaped her lips and her free hand moved down to clench around her thigh until her nails were cutting into her skin. At least the pain in her abdomen was taking her mind off the open cut in her knee and the gash in her left arm just above her elbow. Her whole body was pulsing and aching with each heartbeat that resounded beneath her skin like a drumbeat.

She couldn't stop another groan from tumbling past her lips and her body started to shake as she tried to shift around until she was sat up on her knees rather than sat down on the floor. She shakily put the phone on speaker and laid it in front of her as carefully as she could to make sure she didn't lose what little, precious signal she had on Caleb's phone.

With her free hand plastered to the side of her stomach, (Y/n) smothered down another groan that left her shaking when the contraction seemed to last longer and become more direct.

"I think… oh, I think I need to push soon. Get Evan, please!" The desperation in her voice made her wince but it broke Maddie's heart.

She needed Evan to know. She needed someone to get hold of him and tell him that (Y/n) was suffering and needed his help. Now. If he didn't get to her fast, she was going to have their baby without him. That wasn't something they had contemplated, that wasn't on the cards. It couldn't happen.

"Okay. (Y/n), honey I'm just going to put you on hold just for one minute so I can talk to Buck, okay?"

When (Y/n) hummed, Maddie clicked the on-hold button and swiped her own phone from her bag that was resting by her feet beneath her desk. It would be easier to call Evan directly rather than go through the station and try to ask people to put him on the line.

She just prayed he had his phone handy and that he wasn't in the middle of a call right now, or he wouldn't be able to answer the phone.

"Mads, you okay, you're at work aren't you?" Evan's voice was distant and his eyes kept glancing around the station, his mind preoccupied and somewhere else entirely.

He watched as Chimney and Eddie darted about the station floor on orders from Bobby who was currently in his office, trying to find out what was going on and where (Y/n) was. No one in the station had seen her since just after the team left on their call and that meant (Y/n) could have been gone for hours.

Evan's foot started to tap against the floor and his free hand moved to grip the back of his neck as he tried to keep himself calm and steady. He wasn't sure why his sister was calling, she never rang when she was at work and Evan knew she was on shift today. He prayed nothing was wrong with her too, he couldn't handle any more stress right now.

"Yeah, listen… (Y/n)'s called 911-"

"What? Where is she? She was supposed to be here with us but she left-" Rambles spluttered past Evan's lips while his heart hammered against his chest and his body surged forward like he was about to set off into a pelting run.

She had called for help. Why had she done that? Where was she? What had happened to her? She should have been here at the station, safe and unharmed and out of any sort of danger.

"Buck, Buck just take a breath and let me explain. Caleb found her, she said he kidnapped her. She managed to hit him and get away, but she doesn't know where she is, and she's gone into labour."

His worst nightmare had come to life.

When (Y/n) found the courage to explain to Evan what had gone on between her and her ex and how it had affected her, he had been riled up and stunned and angered all at once. He hated the fact that Caleb had attacked her, he had traumatised her and frightened her and tried to control her in every aspect of her life.

And the few times they had bumped into Caleb out in the street, Evan had made sure (Y/n) was hidden behind him and that her ex couldn't get within ten feet of her.

He didn't think he would have to worry about Caleb anymore. (Y/n) had mentioned him in over a year.

She and Evan had gotten married and they were having a daughter, they were moving on with their lives and Caleb should have been a distant memory. Why would he come back now? Why would he take (Y/n) like this and try to hurt her after all this time?

A low whine burned at the back of Evan's throat and he tossed his head back as his free hand moved round to smother his face. But it did nothing to stop the tears from trickling down his face.

And he couldn't stop himself from twisting to the right and pummelling his fist into the wall harsh enough to knock the kitchen clock off the wall and into the sink. He didn't feel one ounce of pain in his knuckles that were quickly turning a bright shade of red as one or two layers of skin started to split apart from the force.

All he could feel was unbridled rage.

"Did- did he hurt her?" He almost didn't dare ask.

He wasn't sure what he would do if the answer was yes. How would he cope if he learned that Caleb had hurt (Y/n)- again, while she was pregnant? If he knew she was gravely injured or that something was wrong with the baby, Evan wouldn't be able to breathe. He wouldn't be able to put one foot in front of the other if his sister told him news like that.

He knew how spiteful and vindictive Caleb could be and he knew (Y/n)'s ex wasn't opposed to hurting her. Evan doubted (Y/n) being pregnant would sway Caleb very much or make him change his attitude, he would probably still hurt her and he might want to try and hurt the baby too.

Evan couldn't have that. He couldn't hear that kind of news, he needed to know that (Y/n) was alright, despite being somewhere unfamiliar and going into labour, presumably on her own.

"Not from what she's told me. I'm trying to get a location from the phone she's calling on, but it looks like she's out of town. I'll send over some coordinates, you and the team need to head on out there and if I find any responders closer to her I'll divert them to her. Okay?"

"Okay. Don't let her off the line, not until someone's with her and- and tell her I'll be there soon."

***

"(Y/n), Buck's on his way to you and we're trying to get a precise location on you. Someone will be with you soon honey."

Those words were like music to (Y/n)'s ears, but it seemed too little too late. It wasn't going to be enough. Evan wasn't going to make it on time. (Y/n) didn't feel well, things were progressing and she just knew that Evan- nor anyone else- were going to get to her before she had this baby.

"Ooh, I don't think h-he's gonna make it… Mads I need to push!"

Terror pooled deep within (Y/n)'s gut as she tilted her head down and wound her arms tightly around her waist as if she were trying to give herself a comforting hug. But it did nothing to stop the cries from bubbling past her lips and wracking her body. She wanted to go home. She wanted to be somewhere safe, somewhere with Evan.

Why did Caleb have to do this to her? Why did he have to ruin everything? Was it not enough that he had destroyed so much of (Y/n)'s life already? Now he was trying to ruin her future and taint her life with the memory of him. There was nothing in her life that was hers anymore, everything was painted with the image, memory and torture of Caleb.

With a deep breath, Maddie inched closer to her desk and began drumming her fingers down on the keys, adding notes to her call log. Female in distress. In labour. Starting to have the baby alone. Needs urgent assistance.

None of her notes were going to do anything. Maddie couldn't get anyone to (Y/n) any faster than this, she had sent the 118 in (Y/n)'s direction, giving them rough coordinates and telling them with a heavy heart that they would have to search for her around that area. Maddie would stay on the line and give them any landmarks or houses or things that (Y/n) could see to narrow down their search for her.

But help was still out of reach just now and Maddie was all that (Y/n) had to help her through this.

"If you think you're ready to push then that's what we'll do. You've got me, I'll coach you through this. An over the phone birthing partner, hm?"

"I wanna g-go home!" (Y/n)'s wail had her sister in law cringing and coiling in on herself.

She didn't want to do this alone, not like this. Not somewhere unfamiliar with nothing to use, nothing to help her, no one present with her in case things went wrong.

But what other choice did she have?

"Buck will be with you soon, but until then, we need to get ready if the baby is coming. Where exactly are you, are you outside?"

"Hm. I c- I left the car." (Y/n) groaned through another contraction and tried to straighten up. Kneeling up like this felt better than sitting or lying down and she was glad she was near a wall for stability and closure and the fact that there were seemingly no houses or other people nearby. She needed medical help, not the help of any strangers who could be passing by.

"It might be safer to go back to the car, to sit in there while you have the baby-"

"No! No, Caleb could wake up. I can't!"

There was no chance of (Y/n) trudging back towards the car. She might not have stumbled too far away, but she had gotten far enough away that the car was only vaguely in her sight and she couldn't see any glimpse of Caleb. (Y/n) couldn't risk him seeing her.

If he woke up from the concussion (Y/n) gave him, she couldn't get away again in her state. It was unlikely that Caleb would wake up and be able to move about, not with the injuries he had sustained. But (Y/n) didn't want to be near him. She couldn't have him witnessing her in labour.

Caleb had already stolen this moment from her, she wouldn't let him taint it any further by witnessing or trying to comment or hurt her and ruin what was left of this moment. This memory.

It wouldn't be tainted by Caleb's hands.

"Okay, okay. Do you feel ready to push on the next contraction? If you do, then you sit however you like and take a deep breath. Big pushes."

(Y/n) found herself nodding until she realised she was still alone and Maddie couldn't see her. She hummed, bracing her hands on her thighs as she pushed up on her knees while her legs began to tremble. She tried her best to intake a deep breath but it came out in a low grumbling scream when the contraction hit and she tried to push.

Her ears started to ring with static and she didn't hear whatever Maddie tried to say to her until she repeated herself. Twice.

"(Y/n), I need you to feel and make sure baby is coming head first."

That was enough to send (Y/n)'s system shaking and she didn't feel able to kneel any longer, no matter how much she wanted to. She shifted around with a grunt until she was sat down with her back propped up against the wall and her eyes rolling until they could find some sense of focus once again.

Her chin tucked down into her chest as she brought her knees up and tried to feel for the baby as another contraction rumbled through her frame and she started to push again.

"Head's coming," She muttered weakly towards the phone that was now resting on her right side.

Thank God the baby wasn't breach, (Y/n) wasn't sure she would of been able to get through that on her own without someone to coach her in person and help if the baby got stuck or began to struggle.

"That's good. Keep pushing, big deep breaths for me." With a click of her hand, Maddie put (Y/n) on hold and patched through to the fire station radio frequency. "Dispatch to one-eighteen, are you any closer to (Y/n) yet?"

"We're almost at the coordinates but we don't see a road or a car yet."

"Once you find the car (Y/n) won't be too far away. She's starting to push, you'll need to take the medic bags with you and assist."

"Copy."

Maddie disconnected the call and switched back to (Y/n)'s frequency just as she heard her brother swear in fury. She couldn't listen to his howling cries or his infuriated screams at not being there sooner. That would only cause Maddie heartbreak and distract her. She couldn't calm down her brother, his team would have to do that. (Y/n) was her first priority.

"Maddie, I- I can't do this,"

"Yes you can, I'm right here and Buck is almost there. You can do this, you can have this little girl."

"There! There, stop the truck!" Evan's voice rattled through the speakers and his belt swung back and hit the window with a thud.

He scrambled out of the truck the moment Bobby stepped on the brakes and he hurried down the steps, aiming for the silver car parked up in the middle of nowhere. It was a deserted road, there was no one around and nothing out here. This was in the area code Maddie gave them and they hadn't passed any other cars around here.

That had to be it.

That had to be the car that Caleb drove when he decided to kidnap Evan's wife. The nerve.

Evan could feel his nerves igniting like sparklers had been woven into his veins and his hands started to tremble at his sides when he rushed towards the car but stopped dead in his tracks.

Oh dear.

He couldn't fathom how to take a proper breath when he saw the crumpled sight of Caleb before him.

Evan hadn't seen Caleb that many times. Only a few times he had bumped into him in the street and each time, (Y/n) had clung to Evan and pointed her ex out. Each time, Evan had pushed (Y/n) behind him or guided her away and he had only spoken to Caleb to tell him to back off and get the Hell away from (Y/n).

But there was no mistaking who it was on the floor and Evan didn't know what to do about that sight. The sight of his wife's ex, crumpled on one side on the floor, lying in his own dirty puddle of blood. He had a knife imbedded in his abdomen and a lot of dried blood caked on the side of his face. There were a few streaks of blood running down the side of his head and mingling in with his hair, trickling towards his eyes and across the bridge of his nose.

But Evan started to gasp for air when he contemplated what had happened to (Y/n). If Caleb looked like this, how did (Y/n) look? If Caleb had that knife on him, did he use that on (Y/n) before she managed to get away?

Did she have any injuries that she had neglected to tell Maddie about?

"Oh my God." Hen cast her eyes around the scene as her upper lip curled in distaste. But when she went to step towards Caleb, Evan's hand curled around her arm and pulled her back.

"We need to find (Y/n)."

"Buck, we still need to check on him too-"

"He fucking did this! If he's not already dead I'll kill him myself. (Y/n) needs help. Not him."

Evan didn't want anyone going near Caleb. If he hadn't already bled out then Evan wanted everyone to leave him to it. He wanted them to walk away and ignore Caleb like he was nothing more than an ant on the road. A speck of dirt that they didn't need to bother with.

It was more humane to let him bleed out and disappear right there than risking him living and Evan going over to finish the job. He didn't want Caleb to be treated or have the decency of living after what he had done today.

The contemplation was clear on Hen's face and she looked over to Bobby for guidance. If any of them could convince Evan, it would be their Captain. They were still firefighters, they were here to protect and help anyone, even the bad guys. They couldn't neglect Caleb when he needed medical treatment.

"Eddie, Chim, go check on him and call for a second ambulance to this location. We'll take the gurney and find (Y/n), she is our priority."

The contemplation was clear on Evan's face. He wanted to argue, he wanted to disagree and order everyone to go with him to find (Y/n) and leave this creep here. But he couldn't. He didn't have time to stand around and argue when he needed to find and help his wife. She needed him.

At least Bobby agreed (Y/n) was their priority. She was the one they would take to hospital, they wouldn't take Caleb, he could wait for a second ambulance to come down and sort him out. They needed to look after (Y/n).

Evan's boots stomped against the gravel and his hands fisted at his sides as he hurried back towards the truck and hastily snatched one of the medic bags. He slung it on his shoulder, walking in silent fury as he looked around for his wife. Maddie said she couldn't be too far away from the car. He hoped she was right.

He set off into a jog, hearing Bobby hurrying behind him while Hen moved to get the gurney to wheel it along behind them.

"(Y/n)?!"

Her name clawed past Evan's lips on repeat as he scoured round the endless landscape that was practically bare and void of anything and anyone.

But then he saw her. His eyes set on her in the distance, near a high rise wall, and Evan could feel his heart physically dropping from his chest down to the pit of his gut. His shoulders sagged and his hand clenched around the handle of the medic bag as he set off into a sprint, screaming her name until his face turned a bright shade of red and his lungs began to shrivel up.

"No, no no!"

Evan dropped, breathless, to his knees when he was close enough to (Y/n). His knees hit the floor with so much force that his body began to shake and shockwaves rattled through his system. And his arms were reaching out for her immediately.

His shaking hands grasped her arms as his jaw dropped, useless and broken as he couldn't fathom how to speak any other words.

She was crying. Her back was pressed against the wall, her head was dropped forward with tears drenching her features and silent cries tearing past her lips. Her knees were pulled up near her chest, but it was the sight of her arms cocooning a baby to her chest that made Evan cry.

He had missed it. He knew, deep within his gut that he wouldn't make it. Somehow, after Maddie's phone call everything seemed to settle in Evan's system before he could even process it. He just knew this wasn't going to work out in his favour and that despite the past nine months of him preparing himself and waiting anxiously for this moment, he knew Caleb had ruined it. That phone call assured Evan that he wouldn't make it for this moment and (Y/n) would be alone when she needed him the most.

"Sh- she's not breathing!" (Y/n)'s lips were drenched with tears as she thrust her trembling arms out towards Evan.

Nothing Maddie had suggested had worked. (Y/n) couldn't get her baby to breathe and she was starting to panic. She needed someone to do something because she was all out of options and energy and willpower.

Evan sank back on his heels as his lungs squeezed and screeched for oxygen when his daughter was placed into his arms.

He didn't think twice before he turned towards Bobby who knelt down beside Evan and ransacked the medic bag Evan had dropped to the floor.

"Let's take a look, okay sweetie, here we go." Bobby's voice was tender as he found a pipette and carefully squeezed it into the newborn's nose to make sure her airways weren't clogged and to remove any fluids she might have inhaled.

He then pressed his finger to her chin and opened her mouth so he could try and do the same to her mouth to clear her airways. While Bobby did that, Evan cradled her in his left arm and moved his right hand to start rubbing up and down her chest to stimulate her because she wasn't moving. She wasn't wriggling or kicking or making one subtle movement to indicate that she was okay.

Evan could barely see her due to the tears streaming down his face, but he tried to blink rapidly to clear his vision and took a deep breath to stimulate his lungs a bit more.

He kept running his hand forcefully across the newborn's chest while Bobby extracted a good amount of fluid from her lungs which started to terrify Evan. But the moment her little arm bashed against his chest and a strangled sound emitted from her lips, Evan felt like collapsing on the floor in a heap.

"(Y/n)? (Y/n) what's happening?"

"Mads, it's me. We're here a-and she's breathing now. It's okay." Evan wasn't sure he trusted his voice and when his words started to crackle and break up, he felt like dropping his head down and sobbing furiously.

He could hear the relief in Maddie's sighs that came through the phone that Evan was almost knelt on since he hadn't noticed it earlier or bothered to look at anything except (Y/n).

As soon as Hen aimed their way with the gurney, Bobby snagged the blanket from the end of the gurney and made quick work of swaddling it around the newborn. He didn't quibble when Evan eased his daughter over into Bobby's arms and shakily looked through the medic bag.

Once Evan found some clamps, he secured them around the cord and cut it, making sure there was enough cord still attached to the newborn in case there were any complications at the hospital. He knew sometimes things were injected or fed through the cord in emergencies and therefore it had to be long.

Tears continued to stream down (Y/n)'s face and she couldn't stop herself from shaking.

What would she have done if Evan hadn't arrived when he did? How would she have gotten their baby girl breathing? She had done everything Maddie suggested but nothing had worked. She couldn't clear the newborn's airways manually like she tried to do, she couldn't stimulate her, nothing worked.

A round of trembling set in (Y/n)'s system and she let her feet skid against the floor so her legs could flop down. She didn't have the energy to hold them up any longer.

Her shaking hands reached out until they were curled around Evan's arm and she found the strength to push forward and smother her face into his bicep. Allowing her cries to vibrate through his arm. She didn't care how loud she was or who heard her anymore, she just wanted everything to stop.

Twisting to the side, Evan carefully pulled his arm out of (Y/n)'s grasp so he could wind it around her waist instead. He reeled her closer until she was pressing into his chest with her face smothered in his shirt. He felt each cry vibrate through to his heart and the way she was shaking made him feel sick.

This was supposed to be a happy moment, one of the best moments of their lives. Now it had turned into one of the worst memories each of them would ever remember.

His right hand moved to cradle the back of (Y/n)'s neck and he brushed his thumb up and down her skin while his lips meshed with the top of her head.

"It's okay baby. Ooh, you did it, you did it." Evan hadn't wanted her to do it alone. He expected to be holding her hand, coaxing her through contractions, sitting in the hospital by her side.

He didn't expect or ever wish for (Y/n) to be sat in the middle of nowhere, alone and frightened and clearly hurt. Evan wasn't stupid, he had noticed that her knee was bleeding, so was one of her arms and when he peered over her shoulder, he could see a large cut in the back of her dress.

She hadn't gotten away from Caleb unscathed and that riled Evan up like nothing else. Both his girls had been hurt and threatened and traumatised. His daughter's life had been in jeopardy because of some sick, jealous idiot who didn't know when to leave (Y/n) alone.

"I wanna go home."

Evan almost didn't hear her quiet pleas muttered into his chest but when he did, his heart tried to beat out of his chest to reach (Y/n). He coiled around her tighter with his chin on top of her head and he began to sway them from side to side while he felt (Y/n)'s arms secure around his chest. Her hands scratched into his back and she clutched at him like she was afraid he was about to disappear or be taken away from her.

He wasn't going anywhere. He wasn't about to let her go either. Nothing was going to tear him away from either of his girls. He was here and he wasn't letting anything else happen to them, he was going to make sure they were safe.

"I know, I know sweetheart. It's okay, I'm not gonna let anything else happen to you. You're both safe now."

Evan hoped there was nothing Chimney or Eddie could do for Caleb. He hoped they were far too late to do anything for him, and he hoped Caleb had been lying in agony out there.

But if he wasn't dead, Evan was going to make sure he paid the price for what he had done today.

[cutiecusp]

Viral.

What happens when a simple scroll on TikTok leads you to something unexpected?

a/n i wrote this at 3 a.m. today, and after a little adjusting, I'm happy with it. I love the idea of a confident Simon Riley, using his Ghost persona to satisfy a little fantasy or two. Especially if he got to know you, the newest recruit a little better.

TW/ Kissing, smut so MDNI!

Lying on your bunk after a long day, you find yourself doom scrolling on TikTok, navigating your way through recipes, cat videos and pranks, when a biker in a black leather jacket and dark helmet catches your eye.

As usual, the comments are full of thirst posts, proclamations of marriage, one night stands and more. You raise an eyebrow at some of them, incredulous at some others.

He was simply putting his gloves on, while straddling his bike, his visor flipped down, adding to the mystery. The Sleep Token song that played over it fully caught your attention.

The filter over the video made the skeleton print of his gloves stand out against the dark of the leather... very similar to the gloves your lieutenant wears.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you zoom in on his body, looking for something that could identify him more, and you spot it, a small Soap charm on his laces, one you all collected after London.

Your eyes widen.

This man doing thirst traps on BikeTok was your boss.

You refresh the page, and hide your face in your sleeve. How could you act normal around him now?

A live notification pops up at the top of your screen, and shakily you click on it.

There he is, Simon Riley.

All black leather and mystery as he leans into the shot. He has a mic tagged in his collar, and you would know that voice anywhere.

He's outside on the airstrip of the base, you knew he liked to ride out there between deployments, normally kept himself to himself, but now you knew better.

His voice rang out clear, and you almost dropped your phone.

"Welcome in Nya, hello again gorgeous Dolly, Hey Cosplay Queen.."

He pauses, his head tilted.

"We have a new member, hello you." His voice rich, like honey, travelled down your spine.

"Glad to have you here, first times are awkward, I'll be gentle." he teases, watching the hearts collect in the corner of the screen.

By this point you have a death grip on your phone, too stunned to speak. Did he know it was you, you?

You throw out a heart emoji, hoping to blend in a little. You eyes glued to the screen. He was so different to his work version. He was relaxed, cocky, funny... Not the cold and distant lieutenant.

The live goes on for a few minutes, before he logs off for the night. Blowing a kiss, the screen goes black, and you blink again. What on earth was happening?

You put your phone down and begin to get ready for the night, shaking off the imaginary lust dust that flittered over you. Urging yourself to breathe, and not think about the fact your boss was turning you on.

You heart bobbed in the back of your throat when you heard Simons bike return to the barracks, the headlight shining bright in the darkness.

You hold your breath as you hear his footsteps along the corridor, the squeak of the leather and metallic zip undoing are the loudest noises on base. You squeeze your eyes shut as the heavy footsteps stall outside of your door.

Three knocks ring out, forcing your eyes open. He knows. You think to yourself.

You force yourself on jelly legs to answer the door, a smile that doesn't quite meet your eyes.

"Ghost, you okay?" You stammer out, mentally kicking yourself for sounding so obvious.

"You tell me, love." He says gruffly, forcing his way into the room, placing his helmet on your desk.

You squeak at the same time he spots your phone, your screen still open on his page.

"Naughty little thing, aren't you. Thirsting over your boss on TikTok what does it for you, love? The bike, the helmet, the appeal?"

your cheeks redden, and he steps closer to you, closing the gap between you both. Gripping your chin with his fingers, he forces you to look at him.

"Not a word to anyone else, love."

Eyes wide, you nod.

And he presses his lips to yours softly, sealing your secret.

........................................................................................

@xoxunhinged @muneca-lemon-steppa @livingoutsidethetardis @gardenof-venus @misshugs @soraya-daydreams @frudoo @azxulaa @yesornowaitidontknow @enjisbf @thevoiceinyourheadx @shadowdark00 @rynbeerose @lunamoonbby @incredible-walker @identity2212 @pukbadger @urbimom @corvid007 @wordsfromshona @shadows-empress @m00xy @canyonmooncreations @evie-119 @cmbghost @midwesternwitchery

[777heavengirl]

Bags II

sirius black x f!reader ! - 1,459 words masterlist bags masterlist a/n: hello! when this is posted i will be entering my test! test day treat for you all… i did wanna take a moment to thank all of you for ur support and ur kindness, it means so much more to me than u might imagine! i also literally cant believe Bags is finished- this is lowkey such such such a cheesy ending but it made me feel warm... this isn’t the end of bags, don’t fret! i have some bonus chapters planned both pre!bags and post!bags which im excited for… love u guys lots xoxo

Being in love with Sirius Black was the worst thing that could’ve happened to you. It was hell. Moving in with him was a close second on that list.

He was charming, awfully so. With his wolfish grin that made goosebumps crawl on your skin and your legs feel like jelly. Waking up to his shirtless self making you coffee the way you liked it, his head disheveled and unruly from bed, with his hand always on your hips or your waist. Squeezing, or pulling you, rubbing circles on the soft skin, tracing shapes and words. His stupidly soft lips on your neck, small ministrations that made shivers run down your spine and giggles escape your throat. 

You thought about this, about him, as you packed your bags. The empty boxes sat in the middle of the lounge and the trunk sat half-full next to the couch. 

You would soon be walking out the door with your bags. 

You paid the small pang of sadness at the pit of your stomach no mind. It was just nostalgia after all.

You went slowly, unsticking pictures from the walls, making sure there was no sellotape residue as you filed them all into a box. It was a careful process, one that you half aided with a flick of your wand, clothes slowly floating out of your closet halfway across the apartment before folding themselves into the trunk.

Sirius thought about your face as he packed. There was not much else he could think about at this moment. The soft curves of your skin, the full of your cheeks, the way your lips glistened and swole up under the bite of his kiss. 

He thought of your laugh as he packed his bags by hand, each item of clothing being folded back in, each shirt, each pair of pants, even the singular sock without a pair. He thought of the way your hair pressed to your face as you slept, of the soft mumbles that left your mouth in the middle of the night, and the way you pressed him closer to you. He took the picture of you off his wall, the sellotape sticking to his finger as he looked at you. He flipped it around-

Darling brushing her teeth, 1st night in #717

He chuckled to himself, you had been so mad after he took this picture. Yelling at him about how disheveled you looked despite the toothpaste in your mouth. You kept laughing as he decided to take more- whilst you yelled at him. He put it up next to his bed after he got it developed. 

Sirius always thought you looked gorgeous. He smiled to himself as he finished taking off the small bit of tape on it and put it away in the box with the rest of the pictures. It would go on his new wall no matter what.

He looked around his room. The one he felt as if he had just unpacked into, his home for almost three years. The walls were bare, pictures and posters tucked away in a box for safe transportation, clothes arranged and folded into the trunk next to the couch, his helmet on the kitchen table, and both your keys on the counter. 

Soon he’d be walking out the door with his bags.

-

“Are you ready to go dollface?” Sirius finally popped out of his room, after one final sweep of the flat. The emptiness of the walls made his voice bounce, he smiled brightly. 

“Godric yes- help me up” you looked up at him from the floor, extending your hands so he could pull you up. He pulled you swiftly, in one smooth motion you were chest to chest with him. 

He pressed a kiss against your lips. Even after months of being together, months of cloying nicknames, and hours cuddled in bed. Months of practically moving into his room, waking up with his hair on your face, or with his face buried between your neck and the pillow. Even after so long, your fingertips still buzzed at his kiss, your skin still reddened at his touch, and a smile never failed to break from your lips as you laid eyes on him. 

“Are you ready too?” You asked, breaking the kiss. He let out a whispered yes, the words drowned when he reconnected your lips together. You’d never get tired of it, the way he held you steadily against him, the rush of blood to your cheeks as he playfully bit your bottom lip, the way he trailed kisses down your neck. “Should we go then? Remember we have dinner with our godson tonight-”

“There’s no rush baby-” Sirius said in between kisses. You hummed in agreement, carding your fingers through his hair. It was threatening to go past his shoulders.

“Your hair is getting longer,” you noted

“Don’t you like it?” He bit at the base of your neck and you slapped him with a laugh. He shot his head up from your throat, a naughty smile on his lips like he got caught taking a cookie out of the jar before supper. His arms pulled you impossibly closer, hearts beating against each other, his hands interlinked behind your back.

“I do,” you smiled “I just think Harry might pull it into oblivion- maybe you should put it up tonight”

“Ah yes, my cheeky little godson and his awful tendency to try to make me bald-” you let out a laugh, he couldn't help to laugh too as yours shook through his chest. “He’s on a mission that one”

“I doubt he’ll be very successful with that- you got more hair than I do” You ran your hands through his soft locks again.

“Don’t be jealous sweetheart- I’ll give you all my tips, we can share shampoos now” his face got closer again,

“Not that we weren’t already-” you said rolling your eyes, your noses slightly brushed against each other

“Ah so that's why it seemed to evaporate out of the bottle hm?” his words were soft, almost against your lips, the bow of his lip brushing against yours ever so slightly. 

“I fear so-” His hands were steady as they disconnected and roamed, fingers splayed across the small of your back. You sighed against him, a smile evident over your lips that quickly pulled at the corners of his own.

“Stop distracting me Black- we got things to do” you tore away from your boyfriend, a pout jutting out as you left his lips. “None of that- come on,” you pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He groaned out an elongated fine, mocking, and silly as he let you go, hand laying a little pat over your bum. 

“Keep your hands to yourself-” he shot you a cheeky smile as he grabbed your hand to leave, his other kept a tight grip on your shared trunk. 

It was barely a blink, as the air spit you back out with a soft crackle and pop, and you stood outside the small house in Godric’s Hollow. 

“Not bad right?” You turned towards Sirius, a smile on your face as you caught him already looking at you. 

“I think the word you’re looking for is perfect doll,” Sirius scoffed, and you hummed in agreement. You couldn’t help the smile that seemed to be perpetually on your lips, he pressed a short kiss against it. 

“Here you go love-” he hung the keys from one of his fingers, the small silver dog keychain he gave you after graduation newly attached to it. 

He dropped it into the palm of your hand, lips breaking into a wide smile. 

You couldn’t help but press another kiss to his lips, chaste and giddy as you thought of your new life together. With one room to share, with one bed to sleep in, bare walls asking to be littered with pictures, books, and a tv that would probably still sit on boxes to watch shitty soaps in. A space asking to be full of your closest friends, of the people nearest to your hearts.

 You felt like a real adult, with a house of your own and the closest of friends living down the road with your godson. No jobs and fewer trips on the tube, but with a motorcycle parked out front, and English lavender still on the windowsill. Maybe you didn’t have some stuffy muggle office job, maybe you didn’t dress in crisp slacks or skirts, maybe you didn’t talk with your dad anymore, maybe you would simply spend your days with Sirius. Carefree, still young. Adults now, but somehow still stupid. Very much full of joy. 

So you went, walking through the door with your bags.

tags ; @thatlittlered @giuli-in-earth @notsolong-pause @niceonejames7 @caspiankingofnarnia @ilovejamespottersomuch @bmyva1entine @lanadelreykt @froggiedragon @stanzie @theendofthematerialgworl @featherlightfairysworld @plk-18 @coldthinghairdobakery @3sriracha @obixix

permanent tag ; @laufeysvalentine @heyyyloverr

[gello-strands]

MY FAVORITE BOYS!!

(REBLOGS>LIKES!)

Bonus stuff under the cut :))

[translunaryanimus]

Temiraan shows off some popular youth fashion from their culture.* More under the cut.

Lip jewellry and other metal decorations are typically made from tin or copper, the two most abundant metals on their planet. They're fairly easy to heat and shape and contrast well against the dull backdrop of Chenesht skin.

Additionally, many pieces of jewellry from piercings to necklaces to bracelets, even some tassled cloaks and scarves, are meant to resemble the fluttery looking tendrils of the Helium Jellyfish ('air jellies') that serve as their primary predators. It's believed that wearing depictions of the air jellies confuses and wards them off, and on a more spiritual level, bestows confidence and bravery on those who wear them.

Dental jewelry is also particularly popular, especially lower jaw clasps meant to resemble large teeth or tusks. While primarily worn by youths to look fierce and tough, the actual tusks are often quite dull and cause minor bruising at best if they're on while roughousing. Fight appropriate tusks are typically made from bone and are much larger, attatching to a jaw guard or a helmet rather than a thin strip of metal on the lower jaw. There's also a third type of tusk meant for sport fighting, which is typically made of compact air jelly flesh, leading to a rubbery, non-harmful impact.

Head scarves and other coverings when worn by youth are typically sheer and decorated with bright colors and fun patterns. They're seen as a transitional fashion before adulthood, in which thicker, duller coverings become more common (especially among married adults). The sheer fabric allows more breatheability, and the customization and patterns allow more self-expression that adults typically display.

The Glasses Temiraan wears are mostly for fashion. Only the wealthy or particularly determined artisans ever purchase 'refocal lenses'. Also called 'detail lenses' or 'predator lenses', Refocal lenses allow Chenesht to see both far and near with clarity and focus on details. Glasses for fashion tend to focus more on shape and contrast rather than actually assisting the wearer with broadening their field of view.

The emphasis on bright colors, contrasting patterns, and bold shapes comes from the chenesht inability to see quite as many colors as humans can. Their color vision is limited, and they struggle seeing reds and greens properly, so the more contrast and vibrancy, the better.

[Image adjusted to Chenesht Vision]

* Everything stated only applies to one of several Chenesht cultures. Everything here is also subject to change as I continue to develop Chenesht culture and society.

[scorpioracha]

Dating Yoongi

We've finally got the dating Yoongi headcanons!! I'm sorry it took so long but boy is it lengthy so strap in. this is not proofread and im fucking exhausted so edits to be done eventually. if you enjoy reblog, like and leave a comment. cw: does contain smut and one kys moment

Your meet cute with Yoongi ended up being more of a meet awkward than anything. It was 3am at one of the many random convenience stores in Gangnam and you were exhausted, exhausted and hungry. You were doing a year in Seoul for your major and the timezones were really fucking you up. Puffy sleepy eyes,glasses on and a sleep mask resting on your forehead made quite the picture.

It was also quite the picture when you ran into a rack of honey butter chips and wiped out on the floor.

Full wipeout.

Legs up,gravity turned on its head wiped out.

Thankfully the only thing wounded was your pride, but you kinda wished you knocked yourself out so you couldn’t see the handsome man towering over laughing so hard his eyes practically disappeared and a gummy smile on his face. He had a cup of ice and one of those americano packets balanced in one hand and a helmet dangling in his other.

“...chana?”

“Huh?”you said in a daze. 

“Gwaenchana?”he purred in a low rumble. He looked at your lost expression and sucked in a breath.

“Are you okay?”It was a little clunky and half mumbled but you didn’t want to put this man through any more mental torment so you nodded quickly.

“Ne, na gwaenchana!”you replied and quickly scrambled to your feet, almost falling once again because your ankle decided now was the time to roll. He quickly reached out and steadied you, looking at you with so much bewilderment the whole situation felt comical. He looked at the hand that still rested on your arm and quickly pulled it away, you swear you saw his pale cheeks turn pink.

“Um…”he rumbled, looking at you with weary eyes. “stay”

You nodded with wide eyes as you watched this random man run around the convenience store and come back with a juice box and a random red pouch. He looked at you and held up each one.

“Bae juice”

He held up the red pouch. “Hong sam jelly for sukchwi…one moment”

He pulled out his phone and typed quickly. He held the phone to his ear and hummed.

“For hangover”he said, pointing to the two items again. Your eyes widened and you shook your head rapidly. You weren’t drunk. He definitely misinterpreted the situation and just smiled, giving you a smile and waving goodbye before disappearing into the night.

And what do you do when a pretty man buys you pear juice and ginseng jelly in a foreign country?

You fucking c o n s u m e it.

And the next morning when you woke up late to your 8:00am lecture, you just blamed the crazy night because wow what the fuck happened.

You spent the rest of your classes thinking about that handsome stranger. Maybe you did hit your head because WHY didn’t you ask for his name or his katalk? You could have done the whole ‘oh handsome young man, I need to pay you back’ kinda schtick but your brain decided to cosplay the very first windows computer and blue screen the minute you looked at him. stupid.

“Stupid” you groaned, trudging back to your dorm. You had been blessed—got accommodations—for a single room so it was just you and your twin sized 

Oh yeah, and your pining. 

Couldn’t forget about your pining.

You needed a drink. A good drink,some good food and some cartoons to get your mind off this random man. Within minutes you had a bottle of soju and a hefty platter of tteokbokki on the way. Maybe you’d go out for bingsu sometime this week with the girls from your lecture. They were sweet and treated you just like anyone else despite the racial and cultural differences, doting on you as their new maknae and always making sure you ate between classes. It was nice to be looked out for so thoroughly, especially when you were so far away from home. You pulled your phone out to text them when you got a notification that your delivery driver was already on the way.

Huh. they were already earning themself a tip. You stood eagerly by the door waiting and even though you were watching the app like a hawk, you jumped when the doorbell rang and scrambled to open it.

“Gamsahab-”you looked up and saw a familiar set of eyes. “...-nida”

“Soju?”he raises his brow in a way that says ‘again?’. You felt your face grow hot and shook your head rapidly. He just smirked and handed over your takeout bags.

Once again you fucked up,blanked and forgot to ask for his name.

 Damn pretty boy with his pretty eyes and his stupid smile.

It was months before you had seen him again. 

Time heals all wounds and you began to move on. You hung out more with your friends, went to karaoke,saw the sights of Seoul and slowly but surely felt yourself moving on.

It was on a rainy day in May where you found yourself at your usual convenience store. The weather went from sunny skies to torrential downpour within minutes and you had just gotten your hair done. You were looking for an umbrella but found yourself in the snack aisle. 

Blame it on the wind.

What you didn’t expect to find in the snack aisle were seven men bickering. 

You kinda just stood like 🧍🏾‍♀️ until one of them finally turned and god he was stunning 

“Yah, Yoongi-yah!! Move and let this lady through!”

The ‘Yoongi’ in question quickly scooted out of the way, mumbling about how they were all in the way. 

That mumble…

“Yoongi..”you whispered before you could even stop yourself. His gaze snapped up and for once you caught him off guard. His eyes flitted over you rapidly and his mouth opened and shut like a nutcracker.

“Soju girl,”he whispered. Then the moment was lost.

"na iroumi aniya(that’s not my name)” you huffed in annoyance. You know there was an honorific you were supposed to use somewhere in that sentence but your point still stood.

“You speak Korean”another boy said and god he was tall.

“Yes I speak Korean”you said, tilting your head up at him.

“Hyung, you said soju girl couldn’t speak Korean!”a voice laughs. You squint your eyes at this Yoongi who seemingly wanted the floor to swallow him whole. He stared at you like he had seen a ghost actually which wasn’t making things much better. The tall boy sighed and took a step forward, bowing even. 

“I apologize for my hyung,”he said solemnly. “He’s usually not this dumb. I’m Kim Namjoon and these are my bandmates. What’s your name?”

You smiled and returned the bow, happy to finally have some familiarity, both language and warmth.

“I’m y/n”you said. “I think me and your hyung have some catching up to do”

Yes, to say it was a meet awkward was the nicest way to put it.

It was a fucking train wreck of events if you were being completely honest.

You had exchanged info with Namjoon seeing as he spoke the most English and was the only one who didn’t 👁️👄👁️ at you which was nice and had quickly become good friends with one another.

Seeing that their leader liked you, the rest of the boys quickly followed suit and you suddenly had a much bigger friend group than you could even imagine.

Yoongi had become a lot more reserved in a way that was off putting to say the least. You’d only ever spoken to him twice before but there was something off.

you’d asked Namjoon about it during one of your study/music/kill each other from frustration sections and he just shrugged mumbling something about ‘hyung being busy’ 

you rolled your eyes and grabbed your stuff to find out yourself. That’s what you get for asking a dumbass.

Yoongi had been exactly where you’d expect him to be, crammed into one of the practice rooms with his headphones and laptop.

“Yoongi,” you said, tapping on his shoulder. He spun around in a startle and looked at you with a relieved sigh.

“Oh god”he breathed out, “I thought you were one of the maknae begging for food”

You couldn’t help but to smile, all the prior annoyance melting out of your pores and back to the depths of hell where they belonged. Talking to Yoongi was easy, that is when he was still talking to you.

“How do you know I'm not begging for food?”you smirked, taking a seat on the lumpy couch.

“Well, are you?”he asked, raising a brow. You shook your head and leaned back into the couch.

“You’re off the hook”you said, “but I do have a question” “Which is?” “Why have you been avoiding me lately?”

The room grew silent enough you could hear a pin drop. Cornered was the only way you could describe Yoongi. His shoulders scrunched up and he seemed to fold in on himself.

“No reason,”he said plainly.

Your eyes narrowed.

“So you have been avoiding me?”

His eyes widened.

“That’s not what I meant-”

“Then what did you mean?”you asked. Your patience was wearing thin and your heart was racing something ugly.

“I was trying to give you space”

“Space for what? I didn’t ask for space!”you snapped.

“Space for you and Namjoon!”he snapped back, folding his arms over his chest.

“Me and Namjoon?”you gagged. “The last thing me and Namjoon need is space, please collect your dongsaeng cause he won’t leave me alone!”

“Well he’s your boyfriend!”Yoongi threw back.

Huh.

“Huh?!”You shrieked. 

“It doesn’t take a genius to find out,”Yoongi continued, rolling his eyes. “So you can drop the naive act”

“Naive act—Yoongi, you think I'm dating Namjoon?”you asked. You felt like you were going to be sick. Namjoon wasn’t bad by any means, he was just so older brother coded it was disgusting.

“I don't think, I know,”he said. “You guys spend all your time together,you go on dates,you take naps together; it’s obvious”

“Well since you’re such a genius”You said, “How come you couldn’t tell that i’m in love with you?”

Huh.

“Huh?”he said, spinning around in his chair to fully face you. You ran a hand over your face and honest to god laughed.

“Idiots”you said in disbelief. “You’re all idiots”

“Hey-”

“I've been pining over you for months and this whole time you think i’ve been dating Namjoon”you said, shaking your head.

“You’ve been what?”Yoongi said. 

“Crushing on you”you emphasized, “You idiot”

“i..I don’t know what to say,”he said. You sighed and fully leaned back against the chair, feeling all the blood rush to your head from your bold confession. This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

“You can let me down gently for starters”you chuckled humorlessly.

“Let you down—what are you talking about?”he asked.

“Just reject me already!”You exclaimed, waving your hands frantically. You felt like a madwoman.

“Why would I reject you?”his eyebrows furrowed.

You were going to be sick.

“I’m going to be sick”you laughed, running your hands over your face and god were you crying?

“Why are you crying?”he rumbled softly, leaning in and wiping the tears off your cheeks. You just laughed harder, but that ended up turning into a sob because you were so tired. You weren’t expecting a fairytale but this wasn’t the turn you thought today would take. You felt yourself being pulled closer and you knew you should pull away, you knew better. It was all too much and he would just hurt you, but his hoodie smelled like coffee. His hoodie smelled like coffee and his hands were warm as they wrapped around you. You always wondered if he ran hot or cold, but he was neither; Yoongi was pleasantly warm. His hand had somehow wriggled between the two of you and rested on your cheek, rubbing the streaks where your tears trailed. His breath rose and fell in a steady rhythm and for a moment you felt weighless.

“What a mess, huh?”he mumbled, tracing his thumb over your temple. “I went and made all these assumptions…because I was afraid to say I love you”

“You love me?”you whispered. 

“Mm”he rumbled in affirmation. “You didn’t know?”

“No”you said, keeping your voice low, scared if you spoke too loud, the moment would disappear.

“I thought I was being obvious,”he said.

“I thought I was being obvious,”you said. You pulled your head back to look at Yoongi and that gummy smile was on full display.

“We’re both idiots”

Actually dating Yoongi went much smoother than the confession process.

In the early days, the two of you spent a lot of time in the genius studio doing parallel play, you’d work on your assignments and he would work on music. 

Obviously with many interruptions from the maknae line + hoseok, occasionally being prodded by Seokjin and Namjoon to eat,drink and get fresh air

Y’all needed to touch grass and they were sick of it

Being so close to the band in their early days formed an immeasurable bond between you all

But it also lead to a lot of sacrifices on your part that you weren’t prepared to make. 

There was the obvious like no posting about the boys on social media,nda’s up the wazoo,etc. This was all expected and you were willing to do so.

What you weren’t prepared for was how cruel the kmedia could truly be. You weren’t from here, you were a foreigner and that already put a target on your back. The fact that you weren’t thin or pale didn’t help one bit either. 

Thankfully, the boys and Yoongi reassured you in private. Namjoon did damage control and argued with the company to do more on your behalf, while Jimin and the maknae stood by your side like bodyguards wherever you went in silent solidarity. You were never alone. Jin dropped you off at university in the morning, along with Jungkook. Scolding the two of you to have a good day and to eat something that wasn’t chips. Naturally, Jungkook would bring you back once your classes were done and continued to gripe that even though he was older than you, he was still stuck in highschool.

You still hold this over his head to this date.

So thankfully, you had support. Support that if you didn’t have you weren’t sure where you would be honestly. It really felt like you all had become a little family, and being so far from home that was something you desperately needed.

Once the group got larger and was in a more stable position you better believe they all stopped holding their tongues, especially Yoongi. He could be a little hard to read at times but you were not expecting him to be getting himself into full on twitter wars on a burner account over you 💀

“Yoongi stop telling people to kill themselves”

“No”

Being in love with Yoongi felt easy, it was natural. He continued to take care of you in little ways whether it was packing your lunch,giving you transit fare or rubbing your temples when you were tired and falling asleep on him.

Our mans is definitely about that acts of service life. He loves quietly.

Pda made him want to die just a little inside but he wasn’t opposed to holding your hand. It wasn’t like he had anything to hide anyways, you guys were already public. 

He wasn’t the jealous type and although he’d never admit it, he loved how much you and the boys love each other. He’s got a bunch of pictures on his phone of you just in the dorms being domestic. You spent more time there than you did in your own dorm room.

 So although he doesn’t say it often, he shows it with every part of his being. The way his eyes sparkle when he sees you in the morning, his proud smile in your graduation photos. It also made his heart flutter that you got his dry humor and you dished it right back to him, smack in the middle of the maknae line teasing him and Jin about being old.

And when you learned Daegu Satoori from Taehyung to surprise him? Namjoon had to hold him back from proposing on the spot. And to think he ever thought you and Namjoon were dating.

Yoongi bits ✨tid bits about you and yoongi ✨

Yes Yoongi genuinely thought you were drunk and he wasn’t flirting(he got that nuerodivergent rizz)

When Yoongi told you the mint hair wasn’t real and washed it out you cried 🧍🏾‍♀️

You guys have two apartments together, one near Hybe and one in Daegu. You both prefer the apartment in Daegu because that means Holly gets to stay with you guys.

Everytime a new design for shooky it mysteriously appears in the apartment.

You guys have two cats per your request(a white one named sugar and a black one named gloss) the things Yoongi does for love

You guys have been happily engaged for the past year and he proposed in the most unromantic way possible 

NSFW

Baby, Yoongi is a switch with a capital S

Now I have never met a non kinky neurodivergent person and Yoongi is no exception. He enjoys a good power dynamic and has definitely explored kink in the past with previous partners so he’s experienced.

 But Yoongi does occasionally just like to fuck, no rules no dynamics. Just vanilla sex

He’s a lot softer than his image and he honestly likes the separation between the two for his own sanity. The fans think he’s this no nonsense hardass, but he’d much rather praise and reward you than dole out punishments.

He’s a softie at heart and finds a bit of bratty behavior to be cute so you can definitely get away with a lot. Not to say he’s a complete pushover but he definitely will let a good amount of back talk slide before he puts you in your place. It's almost infuriating how calm he is if you’re the type that brats in hopes of a punishment. He’ll just look at you and laugh about how cute you’re being before returning back to whatever he was doing.

It’s pretty hard to tick him off but also not impossible, the easiest way to get him to snap is to mess with him in the studio; especially if he has a deadline coming up. That's how you end up on your knees crammed under his desk not even allowed to suck his dick but just sit there and keep it warm while he works. The condescending mumbles and coos he lets out while stroking your head is enough to send you careening straight into subspace. “Just needed something in your mouth, huh?”he’d purr and gently drag his nails across your scalp

Tongue technology. We all know about it, but you get to experience this first hand at your beck and call. Yoongi is the first one to admit you’re spoiled and when you’re not being a brat, all you have to do is ask and he’ll be in between your legs. He could and has spent hours down there teasing your folds and giving you orgasm after orgasm until you can’t take it anymore.

Somnophilia. This is a kink that goes both ways for you guys but honestly he finds it really hot when you take what you need from him. Waking up groggy in the middle of the night to you fucking yourself on his cock is one of the quickest ways to get Yoongi whining and gripping the sheets. Bonus points if you tie his hands up or cuff them to the bed posts.

He’s not really a fan of quickies and prefers to take his time, but he’s not opposed to shoving you into a closet and getting you off on his fingers if you’re getting needy. He just wants to take care of his girl.

Speaking of his hands, they end up around your throat and in your mouth quite often. Whether you’re sucking or gagging on them, Yoongi makes good on this little fixation and makes sure you get your fill.

He’s down to being pegged. Somebody had to say it guys,🗣️ Yoongi wants something up his ass ‼️

Whether you have him bent over a table or you’re tied up and he’s riding you, Yoongi does enjoy penetration and he’s not ashamed of it. He likes how dazed and pliant you get when he’s bouncing on your strap all flushed and pink and whining. it’s a rush to his head and sends him over the edge faster than he can get a hand on himself.

He’s a fan of cozy aftercare and pillow talk. After you’ve both cleaned up and the bed is moderately clean, he’s off in the kitchen getting snacks and water so you two can cuddle and recap what you liked and disliked. He gets really affectionate after he cums so it usually dissolves into him mumbling praises and kissing all over your face before falling asleep.

All in all Yoongi is the best boy.

[faecaribou]

im pretty sure this is just a popular head canon that Charles cant really read Peter's mind because of his superspeed but I love thinking about it because like imagine:

You're Erik Lehnsherr and you literally wear a helmet to make sure Charles can't control you and it's like a big deal for you and then your son comes along and already has this ability built into his mutation. you mad bro. you jelly?