#i feel like i could get on his nerves so bad

[luveline]

hi jade! I remember a while back you wrote a drabble about hotchner!reader having a really bad panic attack and Spencer and Aaron helping her at the hospital, and it gave me a lot of comfort to read it. would you be interested in writing something about Spencer and Aaron taking care of hotchner!reader as she adjusts to her new meds?

—Spencer and your brother, Aaron, take care of you when your new prescription gives unexpected side effects. fem (adopted) 2k

When things got quiet at home, you’d get tense. 

Your apartment is silent. No whir of the heating, no washing machine clatter, no voices. You sit on the couch with your legs pulled up, turned to the armrest with your cheek pressed to the seat's backing. Your phone is in your hand at a low percentage. You’ll get up to charge just as soon as you can remember what you’d wanted to be doing in the first place. 

Spencer was going to call you. He’s sweet, really. You didn’t expect for love to feel easy; you never thought someone could like you without allowances. You’re quiet sometimes, your nerves are shot. You ask for reassurance too much, too often, and you don’t believe them when they’re given. 

You aren’t smart, or funny, or particularly hard-working. 

But Spencer loves you, you’re almost certain. Or maybe he’s just content to be half happy. It wouldn’t surprise you if he called you to break up with you —what use have you been to him lately? You’re tired everyday. You can’t sleep, you can’t eat, you never want to go out. You can barely make it through the working day. 

Your phone beeps in your hand. 

Outside, it says. If Spencer’s there, please make sure he’s fully dressed.

You manage to smile weakly. Aaron saw Spencer once getting out of the shower, and he was dressed, thank you very much. You hadn’t done anything salacious as he might’ve assumed from the situation, just showered together, but Aaron always lets you know before visiting now. 

Doesn’t ask, by the way, but you don’t actually want him to. He’s like, the only good thing in your life beside Spencer. 

Aaron lets himself in and finds you immediately. “Hey, honey,” he says. 

He slipped into the affectionate older brother role not long after meeting you, and he’s been worse since you were in the hospital. Which is to say, gentler with you. 

He slips a bag of groceries onto the counter. He pans around the room. It’s cleaner than usual here, but none of the lights are on, nor the TV. You can see him notice it. 

“You okay?” he asks, pulling groceries from the bag. He’s brought milk, bread, eggs, and fresh soups from the nice store nearby. “It’s quiet in here.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Yeah? Any wobbles?” 

He’s asking if you’ve had a panic attack or anything like it, but for the last few days you’ve felt veritably numb. “I’m okay,” you say. 

You should bring up your symptoms. Clearly, lexapro either isn’t right for you or the dosage is too much; you’re a zombie these last couple of days. Medications don’t always work straight away, so for a time you’d felt like your script was useless, serving only to make you nauseous, but the sickness has finally gone away. 

He opens the fridge to put away the groceries. He’s sliding the bread into your bread box when he says, “Honey, aren’t you gonna answer that? Your phone?”

You blink down at your phone. Spencer’s contact glows in front of a green background. 

You click answer and pull it to your ear. “Hello?” you ask softly. 

“Hey, angel. How are you feeling today?” 

You clear your throat. “Fine.” 

“I was thinking I’d come over?” 

“You’re outside?” you ask. 

“How’d you know that?” 

“Must be something in the water.”

“I’ll come up now. I brought some things for dinner.” 

You manage your first laugh that dreary day. It’s nearly normal. “Okay. I might not have room.” 

Spencer promises to be up quickly and disconnects the call. You lift your chin to find Aaron already looking at you. “Do I look okay?” you ask. 

“Beautiful, don’t worry.”

“Is this an ambush?” you ask. 

“Not an intentional one. Can I make you something to drink?” 

He’ll make you something you like, you trust. You try to sit properly on the couch before Spencer gets here, rubbing under your eyes, checking there’s nothing on your t-shirt and sweatpants. It might not matter if there were, you know Spencer thinks you’re pretty without makeup or fancy clothes, but he doesn’t necessarily have to be truthful about it. 

“Aaron,” you say, before you can forget, “did… was Jack’s soccer okay?”

He passes you a mug, squeezing your shoulder lovingly. “It was great. I’ll show you the photos.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t go.” 

You were supposed to. Spencer even drove to pick you up, but he got here and your meds weren’t working and your heart was beating wrong, so you stayed home. 

“It’s okay.” Aaron looks like he wants to hug you, but he doesn’t. “Nobody’s mad at you for that.” 

“For other things?” 

“Nothing.” 

Your door opens again. Spencer bursts in with two things, a brown paper bag of groceries and a bouquet of flowers. It’s a pretty huge bouquet, as they go, white and pink flowers, cornflower blue chrysanthemums spotted throughout, the end of his scarf stuck in the flowers and his coat unbuttoned in the struggle. “Hey. Hi, Hotch.” 

“Spencer,” Aaron says, which is strangely warm. 

Spencer shoves the bouquet aside to see you. “Hi, you okay?” 

You force yourself to stand. It’s obvious you’re not feeling right, your head whirring, but you have to make sure he still wants you. “Spencer.” 

He puts the bouquet down. The groceries next. “Angel,” he says, meeting Aaron’s eyes quickly, then back to you, where he smiles sympathetically, “How long have you been feeling like this?” 

You’ve only taken a few steps toward him when he catches you for a hug. It’s nice and polite, but not without tenderness. He doesn’t pull your weight in like he would if you were alone, but he holds your back and sits a quick kiss against your cheek as he pulls away. 

“I don’t really know, a few days?” you suggest. 

“You could’ve told me. Or Hotch, you know?” 

“I know, I was going to, just–” You press your hand to your eyes. “Didn’t really notice it was happening.” 

“Don’t get upset,” Aaron says, coming to join you both in the kitchen. “It’s alright. Spencer isn’t scolding you, he just wants you to know we’re here for you no matter what happens.” 

“I don’t feel like myself,” you say.

“That’s okay,” Aaron furthers, holding you by the shoulder, his hand settling behind the nape of your neck, “we can talk to your doctor again, this isn’t permanent. We’ll talk to them today, if it’s what you need.” 

“I’m sorry. Not many people have such an adverse effect to lexapro, I was hoping you wouldn’t be an exception,” Spencer says. 

To your surprise, Aaron answers for you, “You couldn’t have known. This is just something we’ll have to keep doing together.” 

Someone sits you down. Aaron warms his fancy soups and toasts the bread he brought, making a plate and bowl for each of you without asking. Spencer barely balks. You manage another laugh, for which you’re rewarded with two smiles. 

Aaron can’t stay much longer, having to pick up Jack from Jess’, but he offers to come back. You decline, not wanting Jack to see you feeling as depressed as you are. He promises to call the doctor tonight and leaves in a rush. He must’ve stayed longer than he should’ve. 

Spencer is more forthcoming with soft touches once he’s gone. He didn’t eat much but neither did you, pushing the plates across the coffee table. He’s still wearing his coat. 

Fond, you reach for his chest and begin slipping buttons from the eyelets. “You’re staying, right?” you murmur. 

“If you’ll have me.” 

You open his coat and push it away from his shoulders. He dressed fancy even when he’s not going anywhere, it’s so strange, the button up and the tie and the sweater vest, all of it, but you love it. You run your hand down his vest. He lets his head dip forward. Not for kissing, just to be near. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“Just feel wrong.” 

“It’s not really a good idea to stop taking the lexapro now. It’s technically an antidepressant, and your body won’t adjust well.” He holds your waist as you hold his. “But this is weird, huh?” 

“Feels weird.” 

“Short term, uh, I think we should just try and make sure you feel alright today. Is there anything you need?” he’s murmuring, rubbing his thumb into the soft of your stomach. “I can get anything. Or we can do anything.” 

“You don’t have to… worry about me.” 

“Are you kidding?” he asks softly.

“We haven’t been…” You trail your hand to his stomach, where it stays. “I just don’t expect you to deal with this, you didn’t sign up for this.” 

“I don’t think that’s true. I had no idea what I’d find out about you or what you might go through when we first met, but I wanted to find out. I wanted to take care of you then, and I do now,” he says simply.

“It’s not good timing for me to be like this.” 

“Stuff happens all the time. I wouldn’t want to wait for you to be perfect before we met.” He smiles genuinely. “Not that you’re not perfect.” 

“I really feel like I’m not even me.” 

“You’re you,” he says, dipping so close to you that you can’t see his face anymore, just his skin.

You slouch into his chest, coaxed by long, lithe arms cradling you, as kind as anyone’s ever touched you. He smells clean, your nose finding its way to his stiff collar. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. 

“You don’t have to be. Nobody wants you to be sorry, okay?” 

It’s a new feeling. Spencer spends the night with you on the couch and doesn’t for a moment seem like it’s something he doesn’t wanna do. You end up laying on his chest, his fingers drawing lines like a meandering figure skater up your back. Twirls and loops, long laps around your spine. When your phone rings, he’s nice enough to click answer and hold it to your ear. 

“Aaron?” you ask sleepily. 

“Hey, honey. I’ll be by tomorrow to take you back to Dr. Chester’s office, alright? If you don’t want to keep taking your lexapro, don’t. But if you can manage it, take another tonight, and we’ll figure out the new plan after your appointment.” 

“Okay,” you say, feeling very small. “Thank you for doing that for me.” 

“I’d do anything. Jack says he loves you, he’s making you a painting of yourself. He’s very good at the colours.” 

“I bet he is,” you say loudly. In the background, you can hear Jack’s pleased little thank you. 

“Do you want to talk a while?” he asks.

“That’s okay, Aaron, I’m half asleep on Spencer right now.” 

“Good, that’s good. Tell him to take good care of you, okay? Or I won’t be happy.” 

Spencer laughs above your head. “When is he ever happy?” he jokes in a whisper. 

“Shh,” you say, giving Spencer a light shove. “He says he will.” You swallow a lump, as you’ve had to do all day, but it isn’t rawness that colours your voice now. “I love you. Thank you for, uh, calling the doctor. Thanks.” 

“I love you too. I’ll leave you to sleep now. I’ll come at eleven, alright?” 

“Alright. See you tomorrow,” you say. 

Your voice is weak. Spencer pulls the phone away and hangs it up, tossing it without force onto the coffee table, before wrapping his arm around you snugly. 

“It’s gonna be fine,” Spencer says. “You’ll see, things aren’t going to be like this forever. It’s statistically impossible.” 

“Ooh,” you croon, pressing your tired face back into his chest, “I love when you talk statistics to me. Tell me more.”

He draws shapes into your back, his voice a murmur as he starts to talk. 

[heesimp]

sunghoon who has to hide his rough dom side in sex from a new gf to not to scare her away but he has the worst corruption kink possible and therefore.. constant vile conversation with himself in his head while watching his pretty soft naive girl who has no idea of how much of a mean perv he is

sunghoon who cums at the thought of his girlfriend being a virgin

-

He shouldn’t be doing this because you’ll be out of the shower any minute.

Sunghoon would like to think he knows you well enough to know how long it takes for you to shower when you wash your hair. As he’s experienced only a handful of times before, it takes you a while to shampoo, exfoliate, soap yourself up before washing it away, and complete your post-shower hair and skin routine. You’ve got it down pat but it still takes a while. Sunghoon knows just how much time he has to jerk off before you come out.

“Fuck my cock like that,” he whispers into the quiet air with his legs spread wide on your bedsheets with his pants and boxers shoved just below his balls. He makes a tight first with both hands and twists them. “I could make you feel so good if you let me.”

He really could. But he’s your boyfriend and he loves you, sure, but he knows he’d love you even more the minute you let him stick it in. Sunghoon is constantly so horny and hard that keeping this a secret from you is starting to tear him down. He eyes you like his prey when you’re in public and loves observing the way you interact with his friends.

You’re so innocent, drawing everybody in and making friends out of strangers. He almost feels bad for thinking about you with your back arched as he fucks you from behind.

“Such a small pussy.” Sunghoon grunts and thrusts his hips into the air to meet his hands. “Gonna let me fuck you soon, Y/N? Hm? I know you want it.”

And to a certain extend, he thinks you might feel the same way. But knowing you, Sunghoon thinks your nerves are getting in the way. You were hesitant to agree to let him take you out on a date because he had been previously known to mess around and keep friendly relations to a minimal with people he would sleep with. Sunghoon was ready to throw that all away the minute he met you by way of Jongseong and upon seeing you in the baby blue number he loves so much, Sunghoon deleted every girl in his phone that wasn’t family and girls he wouldn’t sleep with.

But even so, Sunghoon is so horny all the time. He’s not used to this abstinence and you shy away from sex scenes on TV or the mere mention of anything indecent. It turns him on more than he’d like to admit and if he’s an asshole for getting off on the idea of taking your virginity, he’ll deal with the consequences.

“I bet your pussy’s tighter than anyone I’ve ever had.” He moans when he cups his balls with his free hand. “I’m so close, baby. Please let me fuck you. Let me take your virginity. Fuck.”

He stands up and looks around for a tissue, stacking three on top of one another to avoid soaking your blankets. Sunghoon turns his wrist and angles the head of his dick towards the tissues before grunting and watching his cum cling onto the white Kleenex below until he’s all emptied out. Sunghoon gets rid of it and tucks it underneath your trash and calms himself down while laying on top of your bed.

You walk out looking like the innocent angel he knows you to be with a halo around your head. Your bare legs and wet skin make Sunghoon gulp.

[simpjaes]

Pomellato Jay giving me brothers bff thoughts😮‍💨

1:27 a.m.

You all just came home from a party. Jay saw you shivering bc your skimpy little dress was perfect to tease him, but didn’t help with the weather outside. So him, being the sweet gentlemen he is, gave you his black blazer. It covered you completely, and it made you look as if you had nothing beneath it; which was driving Jay insane…

Your phone started to ping next to you:

1:27 a.m - Jay:

- Could you please go change your clothes

1:27 a.m - You:

- why? I feel cozy with your blazer on..

1:29 a.m - Jay:

- That’s not it

- I can’t control myself in front of your brother

1:31 a.m - Jay:

- please baby

- Or go wait for me upstairs

HELPPPPPPPP

i hope you don't mind me changing the text string. wc: 833 ~

1:27 a.m - Jay: you're home now, can i please have my blazer back?

1:27 a.m - You: but whyyyyyy, its so comfy

1:29 a.m - Jay: just....please You glance at him, noting how stiff he appears compared to his usual, relaxed and casual self. Your brother, sitting on the other side of him flipping through some streaming app with a bored sigh. Now, you look down at yourself, back to Jay, back down at yourself, then you curl up on the couch. Smirking a little bit because you're well aware that the blazer rides up, dragging your skirt with it.

1:34 a.m - Jay: fucking stop doing that

1:35 a.m - You: getting excited? 1:35 a.m - Jay: what do you think? You watch him closer, seeing the way he looks at you before glancing towards Jake nervously. "Jake?" You suddenly say, breaking the silence in the room [bc jake still hasn't landed on a fucking show.] "Hm?" He pays no mind, still focused on the tv. "Where is your watch? Weren't you wearing it earlier?" He wasn't. You know he wasn't, but sometimes gaslighting is okay. "Was I?" He says, now sitting up. "Fuck, where did it go?" "I think you left it at Heeseung's place. Might wanna go get it before someone steals it." Jake doesn't even question it, hopping up with a muttered curse under his breath and heading out the door without even looking back at you or his best friend. Silence fills the room, except now...it's loud. "You want me to give you your blazer back?" You ask, narrowing your eyes at him with a cheeky smirk. "You know what you're doing." He groans, finally relaxing his body and sinking into the couch. His legs spread out wide when he throws his head back in that same groan, and you can't help but stare at the way his adam's apple bobs through a swallow. "It's been a couple of weeks, you know-" You start, slipping the blazer off of you and making sure the straps of your tank top slide down with it. "Was starting to think you really didn't want me anymore." Jay grimaces. He feels guilty for so many things. One, you're his best friend's sister. Two, he knows if Jake found out, the friendship would sour. Three, he still wants you so fucking bad he could genuinely cum right fucking now if you so much as say his name. After seeing you like that in his clothes, arguably better when you're entirely naked? His kind gesture backfired so goddamn fast. He remembered instantly the last time you were on top of him, missing the feeling of you so badly. The way his blazer fits you now, the way you swim in the fabric, the way you refuse to take it off. He knows you still want him too. And, well, Jake's not here. "You clever little-" He pauses, seeing your bare shoulders as his blazer slides down. Your thighs still bare and exposed from under it. "Fuck." You stand now, fully removing his blazer and revealing the same slutty outfit you wore tonight. Was it to get on his nerves? Yes. Was it to get on his cock? Yes. Jake wasn't too fond of you dressed like this, but who fucking cares about what he thinks anyway? "Just one more time?" You ask now, more innocently. All while rubbing your thighs together and using one hand to slide up your shirt. "We can make it fast." Jay rolls his eyes, the twitch in his pants growing thicker and thicker, to the point he cant help but grab at himself now. Another groan, and his eyes narrow at you. "You want it fast?" He asks now, the same sultry tone you had grown to miss so much. "And hard." You add, throwing yourself back on the couch and making sure your legs are spread. Wide. It's not long before you feel his familiar hands pressing your wrists into the cushions, hovering over you and blatantly pressing himself between your thighs. "You miss it that much?" He asks in a raspy whisper, smirking only slightly at the face you make in response. Only because he's fucked his fist to that same face so many goddamn times. "Mhm." You hum, wiggling a bit under him. "Don't you?" He breaks at that point, releasing one of your wrists and shoving it down his pants, all so he can bury himself into you without fuss. No foreplay, no teasing, no grinding. Just pure penetration. There's a moan from him that fills your ears, one that sounds more desperate than he would normally sound. Just a few weeks ago it was you sounding like that. Whiny, needy. "Fuck, yeah I do." He breathes this time, holding his breath as he does as he promised. Fast. hard. So fast, and so hard, that neither of you hear the door unlocking and Jake prancing in before freezing on the spot. "You motherfucker." ~

[archiveofvirtue]

sarah introduces lovely kook!reader to the pogues, and one of them definitely strikes her interest more than he should

content / lovely kook!reader x jj maybank, slightly suggestive, jj being a flirt, kook x pogue dynamics, kie lowkey being a hater, mentions of readers and rafes past, spin the bottle, mentions of alcohol, kissing, 1.4k words

notes / this is the beginning of readers and jj’s journey throughout the series, so definitely let me know if u like it or if i should continue only writing about rafe and reader (but then there would def be less of a continuous storyline!)

The golden coast of Kildare Island's sunset painted the sky as Sarah guided you down the dirt path toward John B's chateau, feeling a bit anxious. After all your life wasn’t like any of theirs, and that scared you a bit.

"Just... don't let JJ get to you. He's... well, you'll see." She warned you, knowing that her friend would try to hit on you every chance he got.

You smirked, tucking your wavy hair behind your ear. "You're acting like I'm not used to guys like him. Trust me, I've handled worse."

Yet you couldn't stop the flood of nerves rolling through your body. Coming back to Kildare was one thing; entering the world of Sarah's pogues was another. For someone like you—Rafe’s ex, and being a "kook" in every sense of the word—this was like walking into enemy territory.

You couldn’t help but think of Rafe as you walked along the chunky trail, to him the pogues were always equal to filthy animals, so knowing that Sarah was now one of them made you curious.

Of course, just like Rafe, you used to stay away from pogues, maybe with one exception, but that didn’t matter now. You were taught that your worlds shouldn’t mix, that it wouldn’t work, but knowing just how pathetic your old life was, it maybe wouldn’t be too bad of an idea.

Your little boots crunched against the gravel as you took in the sight before you: a quiet run down house that looked like it had survived one hurricane too many, mismatched furniture scattered across the yard, and a group of teens lounging in the chaos like it was their kingdom.

As you stepped onto the property, a tall, blonde boy was the first to notice you, his face lighting up in surprise and excitement. He jumped down from where he'd been sitting and strode over, his grin wide.

"Dammit Sarah, if I had known that you'd bring over a goddess I would've put on less clothes." JJ drawled, his blue eyes locked on you. Now you definitely knew what Sarah was talking about. Nothing you couldn’t handle tho.

Before you could respond, Sarah stepped between you, rolling her eyes. "JJ, seriously? Don't scare her off five seconds in.”

"Just being friendly," JJ said, holding his hands up in mock innocence. His eyes didn't leave yours, though, and you couldn't help the faint warmth rising in your cheeks. He was super hot.

And you were definitely amused by his charm, lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. "And you must be the rowdy pogue with a reputation to match." You replied smoothly. JJ seemed a bit taken aback, and his grin widened, clearly enjoying the challenge.

"Guilty as charged. But don't worry, I'm harmless... mostly."

"Come on," Sarah said, dragging you toward the group. "Before he says something even dumber."

Getting closer to the group, Kiara was the first to get up. She crossed her arms over her chest, her sharp eyes piercing through you, feeling skeptical. "So, you're y/n."

"Guilty," you said, echoing JJ's words with a playful shrug. You extended a hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Kiara hesitated before shaking your hand. "Yeah, nice to meet you too." Her words were clipped, and you didn't miss the side eye Kiara shot at Sarah. But you didn’t judge her, after all you were kind of skeptical too.

Luckily the rest of the introductions went smoother. Pope was polite but distracted, and John B—Sarah's new boyfriend—was laid-back and welcoming, though his smile carried a hint of curiosity, like he was trying to figure you out.

But it was JJ who lingered, his gaze following your every move, his flirty comments never far behind. It felt all so exciting.

"So, y/n," JJ said as you all settled into your seats, beers in hand. "What's a kook princess like you doing slumming it with us?"

Sarah shot him a warning look, but you just smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know, hm?"

JJ laughed, clearly enjoying the way you confronted him, while Kiara rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath.

As the evening wore on, the tension in the air began to ease. You found yourself laughing at John B's ridiculous stories, paired with JJ's enthusiasm, and even getting a nod of approval from Pope when you mentioned your favorite book. Kiara, however, remained a mystery to you.

"Alright, truth or dare time," JJ announced suddenly, grabbing a bottle from the sand. "No backing out."

"Oh, come on," Kiara groaned, though she didn't move to leave.

The first few rounds were tame, the dares harmless and the truths revealing just enough to keep things fun. Then the bottle landed on JJ.

"Oh, here we go," Pope muttered, earning a laugh from the group.

JJ leaned back, spreading his arms like he was owning the place. "Hit me, baby." He smirked, eyes locked on you as a devilishly, alcohol fueled, idea came to your mind. You just couldn’t hold back, lips curling into a mischievous smile. "I dare you to kiss me."

The whole group fell silent, every eye darting between you and JJ. Even the fire seemed to flicker in response, the crackling flames being the only sound.

JJ blinked, his grin faltering for a moment. "Wait—what?"

"You heard me," you said, voice steady. Your confidence was unshaken, though your heart was pounding in your chest. You weren’t even sure where the boldness had come from, but there was no taking it back now.

Sarah laughed, burying her face in her hands. "Oh my god, y/n."

"Bold move," JJ said, his surprise melting into amusement. "I like it."

He stood, brushing the sand off his jeans, and walked over to you. The air felt electric as he crouched down in front of you, his blue eyes locking onto yours.

"You sure about this, kook girl?" he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

"Scared?" You shot back, smirk growing.

JJ didn't hesitate. In one smooth motion, he closed the gap between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was anything but shy. It was heated, bold, and left no room for misinterpretation.

The group erupted in cheers and whistles, John B's voice cutting through the noise. "JJ, what the hell, man?"

As he kissed you there was an unspoken pull, the desire obvious in both of your movements. It felt good kissing him, really good, so when he pulled back you couldn’t help but pout a little.

Yet his grin was even bigger. "You asked for it."

You laughed, cheeks warm, but you didn't flinch under the group's teasing. If anything, you leaned into it, your confidence high. You hadn't expected to feel this at ease with JJ, and his charm that ran just a little wild. It was different, and strangely, you liked it.

As the game continued, the bottle spun and landed on you. Not hesitating to pick truth, knowing you couldn't dodge forever and also not wanting to be a spoilsport.

Kiara, who had been quiet for most of the night, leaned forward, her expression serious. "Why did you leave Kildare?"

The question hung in the air, and your earlier smile faltered. You felt your throat tighten, glancing at the flames and wishing you could disappear into the sparks. You hadn't exactly planned on going into your past tonight.

Sensing your tension, Sarah quickly jumped in, squeezing your hand. "Y/n went through a rough time," she explained, her voice softer than usual. "There was... a lot going on, and it was all a bit much. You all know how my family can be." She paused, eyes on the fire, then added, "And, uh... y/n dating my brother didn't help. It got... toxic, real fast."

Everyone went quiet, and you felt their eyes on you, shock written across their faces. Yup, somehow it’s always been a shocker for others when they found out you two used to date, cause now you both couldn’t be any more different from each other. Or weren’t you?

"You... and Rafe?" Kiara's voice was laced with surprise, though it held a hint of understanding now—maybe even sympathy. "Seriously?"

You nodded slowly, not meeting anyone's gaze. "Yeah. It's not something I'm proud of. Trust me." You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of those words as you admitted them out loud. "I lost myself for a while. Leaving was the only way. I needed to figure myself out."

JJ was the first to break the silence. "Hey, everyone's got stuff they're not proud of." He shrugged, as if to say it didn't matter to him. "At least you're here now, right?"

You managed a grateful smile, feeling some of the tension ease. The group smiled gently, their earlier reservations melting away. And somehow exposing yourself like that definitely made you feel good, the pogues giving you a feeling of security, treating you with a newfound gentleness.

As the fire died down, everyone began to yawn and stretch, the long hours of the day catching up with you, so John B offered to drive you, Pope and Kie home.

While the two boys piled into the van, Kiara lingered for a moment, pulling you aside as you were about to walk up to the vehicle.

"Hey," Kiara said quietly. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. For being shady earlier. And for pushing you with that question."

You blinked, definitely not expecting an apology from her. "It's okay. I get it—you didn't know."

Kiara nodded, her expression softening. "Yeah, but still. You're not what I expected, but... you're cool. I'm glad you're here."

You smiled, the words meaning more than you cared to admit. "Thanks, Kie."

As you climbed into the van, you felt something shift inside you. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you might actually belong somewhere.

please lemme know what u guys think !!

requests are open.

tags 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @beausling @bunnyrafe @rafescokewhore @starkeysprincess @rafesweetie @rafeslacy @rafesangelita @rafey-baby @starkeydolly @moremaybank @drewspinkbunny @drewsarms

[w1ld-wr1t3r]

could you write a cute lil drabble of reader who has anxiety (could be general or maybe something specific like being in a car) x lando norris and lando is a big comfort to the reader and then one day after a bad race the reader gets to be a comfort to him (i imagine their love language to be physical touch)!

Normally I don't like to write reader inserts, but I like this prompt so I'll give it a try just this once!

The greatest comfort in your life was Lando. He was one of the only ones who understood you, who understood what you went through. He never judged you when your anxiety got bad. He would just hold you close and whisper comforts in your ear, until you felt like yourself again.

Your anxiety often struck when you least expected it, snowballing from slight nerves to nearly immobilizing fear before you could stop it. You were more likely to have an attack when you were stressed, be it about work or your relationship or even just life in general. Lando was one of the only ones who had never made you feel bad about having anxiety, and he'd always done his best to help you through it, even when he'd been scared of doing something wrong. It was one of the many things you loved about him.

It wasn't often that you had to return the favor. He was so strong, taking steps to preserve his mental health and facing everything thrown at him with confidence. He wasn't immune to anxiety, but it struck him so infrequently that you hadn't had a chance yet to take care of him the way he'd always taken care of you. You would never wish for it to happen, never, but you did wish that you could show him how much you appreciated everything he did for you.

That time came unexpectedly after a wet race where things went completely to shit.

You'd nearly had to leave the garage halfway through the race, so anxious that you were almost vibrating out of your skin. Lando had had horrible luck today, ranging from a poorly-timed pit stop to caught in the crossfire of not one but two separate incidents on track. When a Williams collided with him on lap 42 and knocked him out of the race for good, you only breathed a sigh of relief because at least it was over now, and you didn't have to watch him try not to die out there any more.

You knew he would be upset, of course. Who wouldn't be after a race like that? You knew you had some of his favorite comfort meals on hand, and were ready to pull one of them out when you got home and start cooking. The activity would help calm your own nerves, and familiar food would hopefully lift his spirits, too.

But when you got back to your room, he was already there, and he was already crying.

You froze for a moment as you took in the scene before you. He wasn't just crying, you realized, he was sobbing. He was huddled on the sofa, curled into a ball and head in his shaking hands. Three different hoodies were strewn around him, like he'd been trying to find something comfortable and soothing to wear but nothing had done the trick. And he hadn't even changed out of his fireproofs. He must have come straight here as soon as he was free, too broken and upset to face anyone.

"Lando?" you asked cautiously, walking closer to him. He didn't stop crying, but didn't move away as you carefully sat next to him. "Are you -"

You cut yourself off before you finished the question. Of course he wasn't okay. Why ask the question when the answer was already obvious?

"Is there anything I can do to help?" you asked instead. You itched to pull him into your arms and hold him, hug him tight until the tension finally left him and he felt safe again. You wanted to ask what had made him cry, but you knew he probably wouldn't be able to tell you now, not while he was sobbing his eyes out and breathing little hiccupping breaths. You had a theory, though, that it was because he felt like he'd let everyone down today and was a failure. You wanted to tell him that that wasn't true, that he'd done amazing today, even with all of the odds stacked against him. He'd been so strong all day, and it was okay if he needed to cry now. You just wanted to help him through it.

Without looking up at you or saying anything, he leaned closer to you, reaching out with a whine. You understood what he wanted immediately, and tugged him to your chest for a hug. He sobbed into your shirt, burrowing into your arms until he felt like he was safe.

"Don't let me go," he whispered, sniffling. "P-please don't let me go."

You hugged him tight, rubbing his back soothingly. "I won't," you promised. "I'm here."

He settled deeper into your arms, clutching you like a lifeline. You continued to hold him, gently rubbing his back and occasionally whispering soothing words to him. You weren't anxious about the day's events at all any more - you were just glad that you could be here to help him through this.

Finally, after a long stretch of silence, he sniffled and whispered. "Th-thank you. I love you."

You smiled, giving him a gentle squeeze and kissing the top of his head. "I love you too."

You two had each other. And you were going to be okay.

[letsgetrowdy43]

how is quinn when honey is pregnant is he like more overprotective of her

I would say he's not too overprotective, just a bit worrisome about literally everything!!

Honey was extremely clumsy during the last 4 ish months of her pregnancy with Hayden and Maeve, so that man was always on high alert.

He was overprotective in the way that he worried she would do something and hurt herself so he basically kept her at home any chance he could to ensure that she couldn't hurt herself.

For example if she wanted to do errands he would run out and do them before she could get the chance to, or he would talk her out of little outings so that they could lay on the couch in the safety of the home instead!!

Nothing harmful, but as she catches on she starts to feel a little useless and upset!! Then she gets mad and Quinn is like trying to fix it but he doesn't feel all that bad cause he just wants to keep her safe in the comfort of their Home

On a different note, he's just very touchy when she's pregnant! Like his hands are always on her hip or intertwined with hers so he can catch her if she stumbles or loses her balance!

He's literally just a ball of nerves ever time she's pregnant!!

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: an emotional rollercoaster

pairing: xander hawthorne x reader

synopsis: you hate rollercoasters but with a little persuasion xander manages to get you on one only you’d forgotten how badly you couldn’t handle them

warnings: dizziness/feeling faint

a/n: hope you enjoy 🤍🤍

taglist: @lovethornes @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @fleuriosa @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast

“No!” I exclaim for the fiftieth time , throwing my head back and laughing.

“Please,” Xander begs, pulling out his puppy dog eyes.

Usually they’d work but with what was at stake I was not about to let them win me over this time.

I turn my head stubbornly, “no.”

“Please!” he says desperately.

“Xander I already told you I’m not going on any of these,” I remind him with a smile.

I mean I wasn’t going to come at all, it was a miracle Xander got me out of the house. Theme parks were not my scene, I hated rollercoasters and people and crowds and basically everything about the place. Still, Xander had begged me to go and I had obliged. Damn those puppy dog eyes.

“They’re honestly not that bad,” he says, glancing up at one of the largest death-inducing machines of mankind.

“Nu-uh we had a deal,” I reply stubbornly, “I would come to the theme park and watch everyone else if I didn’t have to go on any of the rides.”

He looks at me pleadingly, “just one.”

“No Xand I hate them,” I deadpan.

“You could handle this one easily,” he rolls his eyes playfully pointing to one with about six loops.

“I told you about my rollercoaster trauma!” I exclaim, glaring at him.

“You were five and under the height limit,” he reminds me.

“And I still passed out,” I almost yell.

“Just one tiny weeny little ride,” he says, squinting excessively and making weird hand gestures as if I’d magically be convinced.

“No,” I chuckle, “how do you not understand that word?”

“He hasn’t since he was about two,” Jameson chirps in passing, walking off to a food cart with Avery, “you’ll get used to it.”

Xander jabs him in ribs as he passes and the turns back to me. A stubborn dog with a bone. Nearly as stubborn as me.

“Come on,” he sings, “you know you want to.”

I raise an eyebrow, “in what alternate universe is that?”

He opens his mouth to reply but I already know what he is going to say.

“The answer is no,” I reply.

“What if…” he grins with that mischievous Hawthorne look in his eyes, “…you ride this one with me I’ll buy you ten books on the way home.”

I stop. Physically come to a halt to process the possibility. Ten books. Ten whole books. It’s an irresistible offer and he knows it.

“Even the limited edition version of shatter me?” I test him.

I’ve been begging him for months and the only reason he’s said no is because I have five other copies at home. Even though I insist this one is a must, he strongly disagrees.

He sighs, his chocolate eyes flicking to me with a withered expression, “yes even the limited edition of shatter me.”

My jaw drops as I grab his arm and I almost start to jump up and down, “are you kidding?”

“One ride baby and it’s all yours,” Xander winks back.

There’s a long pause. I hate rollercoasters, I hate theme parks, I hate the thought of going on a ride but I love books, I love the shatter me series and I would love limited edition copy…

Decisions, decisions…

“Fine,” I grumble.

His whole face lights up and my heart swells, I love it when he looks like this, “you’re serious?”

“One ride for ten books one of which a limited edition, sounds like a pretty good deal for me,” I shrug, the nerves creeping in as I realise what I’m really getting myself into.

“So you mean for the whole of today I could’ve bribed you with books,” he says, staring at me like I was his world as he tucked my hair behind my ears.

“Probably,” I nod.

“Damn it,” he mutters.

I poke my tongue out and begin to walk again.

Xander laughs and holds my shoulders, softly turning me around, “the line is this way honey.”

He steers me over to an extremely lengthy queue leading to something I knew I seriously did not want to set foot on. I gape at the line.

“It’s worth the wait,” Xander explains, reading my expression.

“Indeed it is,” comes a familiar voice. I spin around to find Jameson behind me, joining the queue.

“Where did you come from?” Xander asks.

“The food cart line was too long and I got distracted,” he shrugs.

“And we’ve wanted to do on this all day,” Avery adds pointing up.

I stare at her, “this?”

“Yep,” Jameson nods, leaning on the railing, “so how comes Xander’s roped you into this one.”

“He promised me books,” I explain.

He grins at Xander, “smart one.”

He looks around, “where did everyone else go?”

“Lib went on the death drop again and of course Nash said yes to going with her practically with hearts pulsating in his eyes,” Jameson continues .

“She’s addicted to that ride,” Xander chuckles, shaking his head

I tilt my head to admire him. It‘s hard not to. I like to just watch him sometimes, the way the corners of his mouth twitch upwards every few seconds, the way his eyes light up when he talks to his brother, everything, I loved everything.

“I know,” Jameson hums in response, “Grayson and Lyra made a bet on who could walk in a straight line and not spill any water after the teacups, my money is on Lyra.”

“Mine too,” he says, “how does Gray think he stands a chance with all the pirouettes she can do?”

Jameson shrugs, “ he’s a stubborn idiot.”

“Not like you can say much then,” Avery smiles, batting her eyelashes at him.

Jameson slips an arm around her waist and pulls her in, “that one hurt heiress.”

“What a shame,” she murmurs, her gaze pinned to his green eyes.

From then on their conversation sort of blurs. There’s sound but I don’t identify any of the words. It’s all in the background, I’m too busy analysing the death wish to which I’d signed a forever binding contract to. How had I managed to be persuaded so easily?

“Don’t look so petrified,” Xander mumbles into my hair, wrapped his around me from the back and reeling me into his chest.

“It’s a little difficult,” I reply, not breaking eye contact from the rollercoaster.

“You might love it,” he says.

“Trust me when I tell you, I will not,” I scoff.

“I can’t believe he convinced you,” Avery says, shaking her head.

“I am magical like that,” Xander responds and I can hear the grin I loved so much in his voice.

“Sure,” Jameson rolls his eyes.

“Hey!”

I look at Jameson, “have you been on this one before?”

“Only a thousand times,” Jameson grins, “me and Xander used to stuff things in our shoes to surpass the height limit so we could go on with Nash and Gray.”

My jaw drops without my consent, “and none of you have ever died?”

“Well Gray’s a bit emotionally dead but-“ Jameson begins, when Avery whacks him and gives him a sharp warning look, “hey ow! let me finish! But that has nothing to do with a rollercoaster.”

“Good to know,” I sigh.

“You’ll be fine,” Xander soothes, rubbing my and own my arms, “don’t worry about it.”

“Unless you fall out,” Jameson smirks, “then you most definitely won’t be fine.”

Avery’s glare becomes more piercing and a fear I wasn’t used to seeing in Jameson flickers across his face. Usually it would amuse me to see him scared but right now I was too focussed on my own worries.

“Jamie don’t be mean,” she snaps.

“I mean it’s a fact if you fall out-“

“Pay no attention to what comes out of his mouth,” she cuts him off, addressing me, “I don’t half the time.”

“Ouch heiress you know how to cut me deep,” Jameson winces holding the left side of his chest.

Avery takes a step closer to him, tilting her head up softly to meet his gaze, a small smile laces her lips, “I know how to do a lot more than that.”

I watch them, wondering if me and Xander ever looked that in love.

“Guys, get a room,” Xander announces.

I wrinkled my nose.

“I didn’t even mean it like that!” Avery exclaims.

“Sure!” he rolls his eyes with a scoff.

I step to the side and tilt my head seeing the endless queue of people. If the queue is as long as I think it is I might never reach the front. Perfect I wouldn’t have to die on a rollercoaster, just in the line for one.

“How long is this queue?” I ask, changing the subject

“Not that long,” Jameson shrugs, “wait time’s only an hour.”

“An hour?” I gape in my surprise, “people queue an hour for this?”

“Says the girl who camped out when Holly Black came to a book signing,” Xander teases.

I fold my arms and stare at him with my eyebrows raised, “your point?”

“This is people’s Holly Black book signing,” he explains.

“This?” I almost yell in disbelief, “this death trap?”

“Precisely.”

I shake my head, “I will never understand people.”

“That’s what I love about you,” he winks.

I narrow my eyes as he takes the small of my back into his palms, “the only thing?” I ask softly.

“Of course not,” he grins, “but if I sat here and listed it to you we’d be dead before I got to the end.”

“How morbidly adorable,” I reply dryly, secretly melting inside.

He laughs, his eyes sparkling with something that made my heart race, “I love you.”

“If you loved me I would not be in this line,” I deadpan.

“And if you loved me you’d ride this rollercoaster with me,” he counters, poking his tongue out.

“See I never said I loved you back when you told me you loved me,” I shrug.

“Your eyes did though,” Xander replies, making my cheeks tint a gentle pink colour.

A smile breaks out into my face and steals away my features, “what did I tell you about reading my eyes?”

“Are you two quite finished?” Jameson coughs.

“No we haven’t snogged yet,” I snap back, “shut up.”

“I mean you can’t say a lot Jamie,” Xander adds, “you and Avery are x rated compared to us.”

“We are not x rated,” Avery steps in.

“Oh so when I walked in on you-“

“We’re in public Xander,” Jameson yells, panic and desperation flickering through his eyes.

Xander smiles satisfactorily, “that’s what I thought.”

“Let them have their moment Jamie,” Avery murmurs softly, taking his hand.

I look back to Xander, “where were we?”

“You were complaining about my eye reading tendencies,” he answers, flashing me a grin.

“Well,” I shrug softly, “it’s not fair you know what I’m thinking all the time.”

“You want to know what I’m thinking right now?” he whispers, forehead pressed against mine.

“Hmmm,” I hum.

“I’m thinking I want to kiss you,” he murmurs, his voice is low and in the back of his throat, making my insides go weak.

I let my lips nearly sit on his, “then why aren’t you?”

He smiles and slowly initiates this kiss. His lips brush over mine so gentle and tentative. His hands slide in my back, then around my neck and finally cupping my face.

“Has that helped with the nerves?” he asks a hint of seduction in his voice that he only used when we were in particular circumstances.

“You might need to do it again,” I say with doe eyes.

“I don’t want to traumatise too many kids we might get kicked out,” he chuckles.

“If we get kicked out that means I don’t have to go on this ride,” I beam.

“That’s why we’re not getting kicked out,” he says, booping the tip of my nose.

I sigh. It was worth a shot.

“It feels like I’ve moved nowhere,” I complain, peering down at the line that’s just as long as before.

“They’re very little steps,” he reasons.

I say, my aching limbs weighing like lead, “Xand my legs hurt.”

“Come here then…”

He opens his arms and I lazily lean on him like he’s my life support. He wraps his arms around me and brings me into a comforting hug. I’d always loved being in Xander’s arms, he was hands down the world’s best hugger. I felt safe and warm and loved.

“You tired?” he asks, probably noticing my eyes drooping slightly.

“Mhmmm.”

He laughs, “you look so cute right now,”

“Stop it,” I blush, shying away from his gaze.

“You do,” he says, “your face was all squished.”

“Oh thanks,” I reply sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

“I love it.”

“That is not a compliment,” I say, leaning back onto him again. My wimps of legs aching as if I’d never held my own weight up before.

“Here get on my back,” Xander offers.

“You want go piggy back me?” I raise my eyebrows, folding my arms.

He looks me dead in the eyes, as serious as Xander gets, “yes, I want to piggy back you.”

I hesitate before I remember who I’m dating, then I shrug, “okay.”

And with that I just casually hopped onto his back and rebranded myself of his personal backpack.

“I feel like a koala,” I murmur into his ear.

“Don’t koalas usually cling onto the front?” Xander asks.

I shrug, “I don’t know, I’m not a koala expert.”

I rest my head on his shoulder and slump onto him. I can feel my nerves growing. I’ve tried to suppress them and distract myself from feeling them but now they were on the rise the closer to the front we got. I subconsciously play with the fabric of Xander’s shirt rubbing the fibres gently between my fingers over and over in a rhythmic pattern.

“What’s wrong?” he asks me. He knows me so well it hurts.

“Oh,” I murmur, a little consumed in my own anxious thoughts, “no nothing.”

“You sure?”

I hum in response as we take another step closer to the front of the queue. From the amount of people in front of us I assumed we’d be in the next lot to board. I chew the inside of my lip accidentally piercing it, the taste of metal filling my mouth.

“Xand,” my voice shakes.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to do this,” I tell him.

He sets me down and places him hands on my hips, “what are you scared of?”

“Dying,” I reply immediately.

“Well that’s not going to happen at all and I can tell you that for sure,” he comforts.

“What if it does?”

“I won’t let it,” he replies, “besides we’re in the queue now there’s no turning back.”

“There is I can turn around right now and walk back that way,” I say pointing behind him.

Xander grins, “no no no, we are here now.”

We take another step forwards and the people infront of us begin to get on. We’re getting closer and closer to the start. My heart pounds in my chest, I can hear it roaring through my ears.

I stumble backwards in a panic, “I can’t do this, I actually can’t do it.”

“Yes you can,” he says gently, “I’ve got you.”

“Xander,” I exhale rubbing my temples, “I am freaking out.”

“Hold my hand.”

“Unless your hand has some magic anti-panic power that is really not going to help,” I exclaim.

“Good thing I’ve been brushing up on my sorcery,” he jokes with a witty expression.

“Xand I’m serious,” I hyperventilate with a deadly look in my eyes.

“Well you’re on it now,” he shrugs.

My jaw nearly drops, I’m sat on the rollercoaster and I hadn’t even realised I’d gotten on. I’d been too focussed on my mess of feelings that I’d been led on.

“I think I should get off,” I squeeze his hand.

“If you really want to you should,” Xander says with a soft look in his eyes.

I don’t move. My brain is telling me to but some force is pulling me down to my seat. Maybe I’m trying to prove something to myself or maybe I just really want that book. Whatever it is, I remain where I am.

I look at him with a determined sharpness in my eyes, “give me your hand.”

He beams widely and extends his arm, squeezing my palm in his.

“If you let go of me I will kill you,” I snap.

He tilts his head to the side and shoot me a lopsided grin, “I’ll never let go of you.”

And then it begins.

***

I had my eyes closed for the whole ride, screamed even when it had stopped and probably made Xander’s hand go purple with how tightly I was squeezing it.

The world spins as we get off and I stumble to meet the others.

“You’re looking a little pale there y/n,” Nash drawls, his eyebrow arched in concern.

“Feel dizzy,” I slur, panicked. I reach for my boyfriend, “Xand?”

My voice is barely a sound, you can hear the fear infecting every note.

“I got you,” he murmurs, supporting me with a hand around his waist .

His hand is warm against my side, still I can’t stand straight, “I hate you,” I grumble.

“I know,” he says, pulling me in closer so all of my weight is practically on him.

“I hated that.”

“I know.”

“I’m going to fall over,” I warn him, feeling my legs about to give way, “and my head really hurts.”

“Come here,” Xander tells me gently.

I wrap my arms around his neck and he lifts me up into his arms, bridal style. My heavy head lolls towards him chest and collides with it.

“I’m just going to close my eyes to stop the spinning,” I say, my words disjointed and distant.

“You do that sweetie” he leans down and kisses my forehead and I feel his grip tighten around me.

“What did you do to her?” Libby asks, I can feel her gentle hand on my forehead checking for a temperature.

“I didn’t do anything,” Xander defends, “the giant metal contraption to our left however, did some real damage.”

“You got her on a rollercoaster,” I hear Lyra say and I can imagine her jaw is dropped, given the many conversations we’d had on how I would never go on a rollercoaster.

“Biggest life regret,” I mumble, eyes still shut.

Xander explains, “I promised to buy her books.”

“Who knew she could be so easily bribed,” Grayson comments dryly.

“Never again,” I groan, burying my face into Xander’s shirt to block out the light. I can smell him, his scent. It’s sweet, it’s comforting, it’s home. My heart rate slows a little and I feel my limbs relax.

“She looks like she’s dying,” Jameson responds.

“Thanks,” I scoff sarcastically with all the energy I had left.

Avery snaps, barely half a beat after me, “Jameson that’s horrible!” I hear a thump and a dramatic ‘ow’ and presume Avery whacked him.

“I feel like I’m dying,” I shrug, regretting trying to support my own head.

“Geez Xand I think you broke her,” Lyra says.

“Then I’ll fix her right back up,” he replies.

“I think she’s past the point of fixing,” Jameson says.

“Nothing is past the point of fixing,” Xander responds, a hard determination in his voice.

“Do we need to call someone or get some help?” Libby asks her eyebrows pinching together with a maternal concern.

I try to shake my head and fail miserably, “I’m just dizzy, it’ll pass.”

“Give her a sip of water,” Nash advises handing Libby a bottle.

She gently lifts my head and tips some down my throat, making sure I’d swallowed before I laid back down.

“Better?” I hear her ask.

“Yeah,” I respond.

“You’re a pathetic liar sweetheart,” Xander says with a small laugh.

“Shut up I’m fine,” I reply, although I very much did not feel fine.

“I’m going to take you home.”

Guilt twinges in my stomach.

“No, no,” I rush, trying to sit up in his arms and failing miserably, “don’t ruin your day, just stick me on the floor and I’ll be fine.”

It’s a total lie but I don’t care. He shouldn’t have to miss out because I can’t handle something.

“We’ll see you guys a bit later,” he turns to the others, before beginning to walk towards the exit.

“Xander I’m fine, it’s fine,” I say, squirming, “put me down.”

“Stop talking sweetheart it’s going to hurt your head,” Xander replies planting another kiss on my forehead.

“Don’t drop me then,” I murmur helplessly, clinging to him even tighter.

“Even if my arms go numb there’s no way I’m letting you go,” he says.

I wince, “I was not built for rollercoasters.”

“No you weren’t my love,” Xander agrees softly.

I groan in response, the spinning getting progressively worse.

“I’m sorry sweetie,” he says as he tentatively strokes my cheek, “I didn’t think it’d make you feel this bad.”

“I did try to warn you,” I murmur leaning into his touch.

“I know I’m sorry,” he replies and I can hear the worry in his voice,

I fall back into his arms and close my eyes to relieve myself from the dizziness, “I don’t want you to miss out because of me,” I whisper, “I don’t want your day to be ruined because I can handle a stupid little rollercoaster.”

“I’m not missing out,” he reassures me, “I’ve got everything I could ever want bundled in my arms right now,”

“That was really cute,” I giggle, “and I’ll appreciate more when I’m not seeing stars.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, real guilt thickening his tone.

I had only meant it as a joke but hearing that rawness in his voice made something in my heart twist. My mind paints the ashamed look in his kind eyes. I despise the thought.

“Don’t feel bad,” I say quickly.

He forces a chuckle, “I do feel bad.”

“You know how you can make it up to me?” I open my eyes, and see double of him, not that I mind. Two Xander’s aren’t so bad to look at.

“No ,” he frowns, “how?”

***

I curl up with my special edition shatter me novel, taking in each word. I know it’s going to be the best reread of my life. I can’t help but keep flicking back to admire the cover. It’s the most gorgeous thing I own.

Everything stopped spinning around an hour after I got off of that death trap and I can actually make out the words.

I feel his eyes on me, I always can. I look up with a grin and to no surprise I’m right. Xander’s standing there staring at me, a small smile lacing his lips. He looks at me like I’m worth more than each and every blueberry scone in the universe, which is a big compliment from him.

He walks over and sits down beside me and I notice two mugs in each of his hands. One is decadently topped with whip cream, chocolate shavings sprinkles and a whole world of other things and the other was plain. I think it was safe to say who’s was who’s. He passes me a the non-embellished steaming mug and I can’t help but smile, “worth it?” he asks me, eyebrows raised at the book.

“For my mental health,” I begin slowly, “no, for this book, absolutely.”

“You’re a little odd,” he shoots me a very Hawthorne grin, “has anyone ever told you that?”

I move closer to him, “I may have heard it here and there.”

“But that’s why I love you,” he whispers cupping my face in his hands.

“Good thing I love you too then,” I murmur with a little laugh as his lips crash into mine.

hey lovelies!! yes I am alive!!

sorry this isn’t a req fic and sorry it’s taken me so long to get another fic out, I’ve had loads of tests lately and a busy time in general. hopefully I’ll be able to write more regularly when it’s all done but for now unfortunately it’ll be a bit hit and miss, hope you can understand <33

TIG masterlist

[mychlapci]

My liege I wanted to submit this during celibacy week but I ended up being so busy aughhhhhh oh well that just means we can make it horny now if it so happens to happen

Been thinking about... domestication... What if, when Minimus returned to Luna-1, being stripped of his rank and armour wasn't enough. What if he cried and protested and begged when Tyrest took the armour, and Tyrest decided Minimus was so unworthy that he doesn't even deserve to exist as he currently is.

When Rodimus and Rung and the rest of the gang end up imprisoned on Luna-1, they meet a strange little turbofox curled up in the corner. Its smaller than what they would expect. It's also very green. Whilst Rodimus is busy yelling about being stuck here, Rung gently approaches the creature, a little curious about why a mechanimal would be imprisoned here, but more because the thing looks so scared. The little kibble-fluff it has shakes and rattles whilst its big ears are pressed back in fear. And yet, when Rung approaches, it doesn't growl or bare its teeth. It just stares, optics wide, afraid.

It takes some coaxing with a few rust sticks and gentle pets, but the turbofox is gradually lured out of its corner. It doesn't seem to want to be held, struggling when Rung tries to pick it up. But Roddy, curious, and desperately trying to find something else distracting other than thinking about being trapped, is immediately like LET ME HOLD and grabs the poor little thing. It yips at first and struggles- but Rodimus' warm frame seems to calm it. The poor little thing must be cold. It curls up whilst held against Roddy's chestplate and doesn't seem to plan to move.

The rest of Luna-1 happens and etc etc etc and they all eventually return to the ship... it's too bad they never found out what happened to Magnus, but the poor bot would be deactivated by now anyway according to Ratchet's predictions.

They've brought the tiny turbofox with them. It's not like they could just leave the thing behind... Rodimus, secretly pretty shaken up by the whole killswitch thing and once again failing his duties to protect his crew, unable to even keep track of one DYING second in command, keeps the little guy with him. The turbofox isn't the friendliest creature, but it seems content enough to be carried around by Rodimus for his warmth. And Rodimus feels a little better with some company and a little creature to hold.

Rodimus brings that thing everywhere. He starts calling it Roddy Jr. and everyone hates the name lmao. He brings it to all his appointments with Rung, holding it close and petting it to ease his nerves.

As the turbofox gets more comfortable on the ship, they start to find that it's still not particularly friendly. It doesn't like to be petted or cooed at or held by most other bots, but it will also never snarl or growl. It will glare and swat at servos that get too close, or even just duck under them, but never bare its sharp denta. Rodimus seems to be the only one with a free pass to hold the thing everywhere. Even so, sometimes it complains and struggles, but eventually lets Roddy carry it.

It's only much later when Ratchet, finally less busy with all the mechs' repairs, insists that Rodimus brings his pet in for a routine checkup too. They've never had a chance to properly check the thing since they found it and who knows what diseases it could be carrying. (Roddy is like hey >:[ at this btw)

But when Ratchet finally gets a good look at the thing... he has some uncomfortable suspicions. Being the only one to have ever seen Minimus' true form, this turbofox looks strangely familiar. And once he finds that it has a tcog, things really seem suspicious. But, as far as he knows, it's never behaved like Magnus or responded to anything that would make them think it was him. Ratchet tries calling it Ultra Magnus, but the turbofox just looks at him quietly. It's strangely polite and docile for a turbofox, just sitting there and letting Ratchet work on it. Something isn't right with this thing, but he doesn't know what.

Ratchet starts asking Rodimus some leading questions about this... but Rodimus just gets really defensive about anything asked about his new little pet. No! How could his little guy be another mech. So what if it has a tcog maybe some mechanimals have cogs. Whatever.

If Ratchet's suspicions are right, he's going to need Chromedome to have a look too. But it doesn't look like Rodimus is going to even entertain that as a suggestion

Rodimus is so desperate to keep this thing with him, to have some company, some kind of comfort, something on this ship that doesn't hate him, that he's not willing to entertain a single suspicious thought about his pet. He's not losing his only companion.

oh yes yes yes that's so fucking good. Rodimus' emotional support turbofox... he refuses to let anyone near it, and honestly, people are a little worried about the blow that taking his new pet could deal to Rodimus' mental health.... no one can help Minimus it seems...

[freedomsargeant]

Fa-La-La-In Love | Franco Colapinto

Hey loves! Yet another Christmas fanfic. I think I'll continue making these until Christmas ends. This is an x OC since I don't really like writing x readers. I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: In which Alayana thinks she's alone only to find Franco watching her dance terribly

Warnings: Literally nothing just a bunch of fluff

Fa-La-La-In Love

The cabin was quiet as Alayna stood by the window, watching her friends disappear into the forest with their skis and snowboards, their laughter echoing back to her. She didn’t mind staying behind—skiing wasn’t really her thing, and the idea of curling up with some hot cocoa by the fire sounded way better. She turned back inside, feeling cozy in her Christmas sweater and fuzzy socks, surrounded by twinkling lights and the scent of pine from the Christmas tree.

What she didn’t know was that Franco had stayed back too.

He was in his room, taking a break from the relentless pace of the racing season, finally getting a moment to just…breathe. But as he walked toward the kitchen, he heard something that made him pause—a familiar tune, cheerful and unmistakably Christmas-y, drifting from the living room. He followed the sound, stopping just outside the doorway when he saw Alayana, oblivious to his presence.

She was completely in her own world, swaying to “All I Want for Christmas is You” by Mariah Carey, belting out lyrics, despite a complete lack of rhythm. She was dancing with absolutely no coordination, twirling in her oversized socks and making big, terrible gestures as if she were in her own Christmas music video.

Franco bit back a laugh, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed as he watched her. She was just enjoying herself and he felt something warm and unexplainable growing in his chest as he took in the scene.

When she finally spun around and caught sight of him, she froze, her face going pale for a second before flushing bright red. “Franco! Oh my gosh! I— I thought you went skiing!”

He raised his hands in mock surrender, a playful grin on his face. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt the concert,” he teased, his tone gentle, laced with warmth.

She covered her face, mortified, then dropped her hands, trying to laugh it off. “I, uh...guess my dancing could use some work,” she mumbled, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Nonsense,” he said with a chuckle. “It has...character.”

She rolled her eyes, still embarrassed but finding herself grinning back at him. Just then a slow Christmas song started playing, filling the room with a soft melody.

A mischievous glint lit Franco’s eyes. “You know, if you’re gonna dance, you might as well do it right.” He extended his hand to her. “What do you say?”

Her cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red, but there was something so gentle in his gaze, something warm and inviting, that she found herself taking his hand. “I...I don’t know how to waltz,” she admitted.

“Perfect,” he said, stepping closer. “Then you won’t notice if I’m bad at it.”

She laughed, feeling her nerves settle as he placed one hand on her waist, keeping his other hand steady in hers. “Alright, first step. Just follow my lead.”

They started to move in small, tentative steps, Franco guiding her as they turned slowly, the Christmas lights casting a warm glow around them. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the soft music and the warmth of his hand in hers.

“You’re a natural,” he murmured, his voice low and encouraging, his eyes never leaving hers.

She let out a shy laugh. “Pretty sure you’re doing most of the work.”

“Maybe,” he said with a soft smile. “But you’re making it look good.”

They continued to dance, her awkwardness slowly melting away as she relaxed into his arms. She could feel the warmth of his gaze on her, and suddenly, she wasn’t worried about her lack of rhythm or her terrible dancing. All she could think about was how close they were, the gentle pressure of his hand guiding her, the way he looked at her like she was the only person in the room. Well, she was, but she was positive if it was filled with people he would only be looking at her. 

As the song began to stop, their steps slowed, neither of them willing to let go just yet. The last notes of the melody faded, leaving a comfortable silence between them. She looked up at him, breath catching as she realized just how close his face was to hers.

Franco’s gaze softened, his thumb tracing small circles on her hand. “I’m glad you didn’t go skiing,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

She felt her heart race, a warmth spreading through her chest that had nothing to do with the holiday lights or the fire crackling nearby. “Me too,” she whispered back, a small smile playing at her lips.

For a moment, they just stood there, frozen in the glow of the Christmas lights, in a world that seemed to have shrunk to just the two of them. And in that quiet, snow-covered cabin, with the faint echoes of Christmas music lingering in the air, it felt like the most perfect place in the world to be.

****

Hey Loves! This story was pretty short but I hope you all enjoyed it! As always I love you all and I'll catch you on the flippity flop!

[changbinsboobs]

yes pleasue you have interesting things to read about. hmm i also wondered how they view their reputation among both male and female idols? do they think it could be better or worse?

Since this requires lots of time to read for im gonna split it up in 2 groups again

Hyung line: How Skz think their reputation is among idols

Chan

Male: that one was a bit weird i think he thinks the opinions are split - like some absolutely love him and think he's a delight to be around, while others find him cold and stern and appalling(?).

Female: he definitely thinks he's charming them girls up😂 i think he thinks he has a loverboy image among them and is boyfie material.

Lee Know

Male: he thinks they view him as very motherly and caring. Often surprised by his nurturing and father/mother like qualities.

Female: thinks they view him as uninterested and maybe don't even have much else of an opinion of him cuz he's just not present around them.

Changbin

Male: thinks they view him as really fun and upcheering, kind of like the heart of the group or center of attention. He also thinks that they think of him as someone who brings or holds a group/hangout together. Like the burning flame that keeps the campers surrounded around it, warm.

Female: he thinks they like him and have a good opinion on him and feel comfortable & safe around him (he says one telling thing is that he gets to see their dorky side often, which they keep under wraps with other guys/people). Also he thinks that they like his money or view him as someone who's very generous and can spend on them🥲💀😂

Hyunjin

Male: this was also a bit difficult, i think this mightve struck a nerve or something as im getting an energy of him being very hurt by some sort of rumours or behavioursbof someone and it shattered his "views" of some people. Maybe there was a rumour or something spreading about him among guys that either isnt true and he feels horrible that someone put it out there and people believe it and now thinks everyone thinks bad of him or something, or maybe the rumors actually true, and he's certain someone he thought was his friend started it and whichever it is he feels really shitty and austrasized about it. Dont know if thats actually true - like if he's been really austrasized or not, but thats definitely what he feels. Back to the topic tho - his overal thoughts besides that, on his image among male idols is they think he's very cool and fierces, he thinks he's kind of a role model especially for younger ones, like ifhglgkg yk that energy of a big and little sis, and the younger one looks up to the bigger one. So in a way i think he thinks that a lot of guys look up to him and think he's really cool.

Female: here i don't pick up much on his reputation persee but he thinks that lots of female idols just look at him from afar and admire him, despite really wanting to get close or make a move but for some reason i get the feeling that they don't? As if he's there to just be admired but not touched😂 like the art in the museum. Maybe he has heard rumours or something about people really liking him and thinking about or wanting to make a move. But again im no getting much of a confirmation if they actually do or not. Oh and also in this reading rumours were pretty evident, so maybe he's someone that has had to deal with lots of that. Maybe he's in those kinds of groups where theres always some drama happening😂 or he just enjoys endulging in rumours or gossip himself? Idk but that stuck out in this reading so🤷🏻‍♀️

[stoutguts]

My own personal Hybrid AU??? (Also, Omegaverse). Chock full of my own personal headcanons and ideas. Unorganized/kind of rambling, really just trying to put all my thoughts to paper.

PART 3

(wish I could include everything I wrote in one post, but I yapped too much—)

Ghost is quite aggressive and brooding, the recruits fear it, find it scary or unapproachable. The deadliest and most dangerous man in the entire SAS,—no doubt. Downright cynical and impulsive, at worst. This inherent hostility and him always being on guard, this suspiciousness and unease around strangers, was not only born from his traumatic past and childhood,—but inherited from the inner mechanisms of his father’s wild nature,—he’s part wolf after all. Despite that though, the Great Pyrenees in them is just as strong,—(something of their mother’s gentle spirit lives on in them),—affectionate. A total softie, and open-minded. Amicable even, at best. Caring,—to those it trusts with all the broken and mangled pieces of its heart that is. His temperament is truly something special. Truly the definition of hot and cold. 50% wolf, 50% Great Pyrenees, an even 50/50 split between their genes,—according to a DNA test. Unforeseeable, that’s why they’re called “Ghost” (apart from their ghost-like appearance). The 1-4-1 likens it’s personality to that of a cat more than a dog. Although, he excels at just about anything and everything. It can go loud and cause a real ruckus of gunfire and bloodshed, or it can be as quiet as a mouse and strike its unsuspecting prey like a snake. Whether it’s a more “laidback” kind of mission, or he’s fighting for his life, it doesn’t matter,—his sheer adaptability and resolve for survival is enough to bring him out the other side somehow. Its specialities are simultaneously stealth missions and guerrilla warfare. Also, fantastic with knives and is a phenomenal sniper (having unusually good/superb eyesight, which makes for almost perfect aim). Probably the most efficient at getting the job done in the entirety of the 1-4-1,—a damn machine. A grim reaper of sorts. Though somehow he isn’t entirely monstrous. Unfortunately though, their feral side likes to come out more often than not, especially in one particular form.—They become just about unbearable to be around when they get their period, or when their heat comes (as they refuse to take suppressants because it “makes them feel weird”, and that it fucks with their already fucked up hormones). Snapping at every little thing and at everyone,—it becomes essentially impossible to work with it. Not to mention, his mood and temper sometimes gets to be so bad,—that it tends to affect how he performs at his job. If it weren’t (or if it isn’t) for Johnny taking care of them and helping to soothe their nerves, or fucking them colorblind and breeding them until they can’t walk,—they’d probably end up discharged for such insubordination. Leave is practically always mandatory. The worst part is that since Simon sustained an injury to his mating gland, his heat cycles are unpredictable and often random. It’s periods are also a bitch and a half. Though still both are nothing that Johnny can’t handle. Also on the bright side, periods for them are very rare and infrequent, as they regularly take testosterone. Like Soap, Ghost has some extra, pent up energy from time to time, due to the livestock guardian dog in him. Though it’s much more manageable, and not nearly as bad. They’ll sometimes join Johnny in his little escapades around base, racing him in their doggy form. It’ll always gladly join him in working out, and to help to herd their cattle that they’ve got back home. Incredibly protective and loyal as well, as all dogs with herding blood in them are. It also has a very strong hunting instinct, and prefers to catch and eat it’s prey rather than waiting in line at the butcher. They’ll go after and stalk deer or rabbits hiding out in the woodland surrounding their farm. It also has accidentally killed or injured some of it and Soap’s livestock in the past, as it loses control of it’s instincts from time to time. If there is one thing Johnny doesn’t like about his partner, it’s that. He’s always pissed naturally when this happens, because he’s a tried a true herding dog.

Whenever an incident like this happens, he feels like he’s failed at his job, which is to protect their cattle. Simon feeling extremely guilty, and more than happy to repent (in perhaps a kinky way). Despite being an omega, he definitely rivals Soap in terms of strength, and in terms of size,—he’s built like a damn truck. His canine form is huge (bigger than Johnny, though not as big as Yuri), but compact, noticeably bigger the typical size of his species. Pure muscle permeates their entire body, rippling through their fur and bulging from their skin, (perks of having wolf genes, unlike the cons). It’s undoubtedly the most terrifying and intimidating member of the 1-4-1. His bark and growling is also akin to something of a hell hound. A growl so low and deep, you can practically feel the vibrations, and the menacing energy coming off of it. And a bark that is almost deafening, with nothing but pure unbridled resentment and fury in it.

Yuri doesn’t really cause (at least too many) problems. He’s mostly unassuming. Apart from the occasional butting heads with everyone, but especially Soap,—nothing too bad. (Spats are mostly brought on because of his own arrogance and narcissistic tendencies. Though he’s got a particular sore spot for insubordination of any kind, or arguing against orders too, a real stuck up when it comes to the rules and how to do things. Similar to Price in that vein, but even worse. Bossy, even when it’s not his place to be. A hypocrite, because he’s unintentionally insubordinate himself, (at least from time to time). Stubborn as hell too, (sometimes even worse than Johnny). Though he’s a damn good soldier, and steps up to the plate when you need him. Very fast and mobile,—at least, out speeding Simon and Soap. He’s also got the best sniffer in the 1-4-1, which can prove to be incredibly useful in certain instances. (He’s a good man in all honesty, even though he has his shortcomings, (though who doesn’t). He’s got a good heart and moral compass. Values his friends greatly. Good character and can be fun to be around, but equally can bore you to death, and tends to keep to himself. He likes to keep things professional most of the time. Truly a no nonsense type of guy. His dark humor doesn’t go over too well sometimes, but he’s able to crack some more wholesome jokes too. One little quirk of his though is that he’s much more open and welcoming, when he’s under the influence and/or drunk. Most of what the 1-4-1 knows about Yuri, and how they’ve gotten closer to him, is by getting him wasted or as high as a kite. (His negative traits are half to do with his breed as well). But really, the only real problem is,—he’s fucking huge. And he doesn’t know he is either. He ends up unintentionally hurting or injuring other people due to the lack of awareness of his size. It’s in his genes to be massive, more so taking after the/having Great Dane in him and all. He’s only about 5’10 or 11 and weighs around 175 pounds in “human” form, but grows to be around 5’2 at shoulder, 6’4 on two legs, and weighs a staggering 275 pounds when in doggy form. Easily 2 maybe even 3x bigger than the typical size of his breed, and especially a normal dog. He’s even bigger than Johnny and Ghost (in canine form at least), which is nothing to sneeze at, considering he’s only a beta. This wouldn’t be a problem, if it weren’t for the fact he has trouble controlling his shifting. This causes a wide variety issues, but mostly ends up getting them comprised on stealth missions, or when they're trying not to alert the enemy. That, and when Yuri shifts sometimes he can't shift back out of his doggy form, and is occasionally stuck like that for the rest of a mission. It's not that Yuri can't pull his own weight and take out enemy soldiers like that, because he most certainly can, and does it with extreme ease. But, he becomes useless in certain situations, because he's unable to return fire or use a gun. Nor can he just charge out with reckless abandon when there's bullets coming from every direction—He lacks armor or any real protection in his canine form after all. It’s just idiotic to put yourself in danger, and potentially get yourself killed like that. Though despite everything, needless to say, Yuri is one of the 1-4-1’s biggest assets. The team wouldn’t be complete without him, even though he can be a real headache and a mountain of paperwork sometimes. Despite his impressive stature, his cold and calculating demeanor, his formidability,—he’s not all too scary. Despite being such a large dog, he’s higher pitched. His bark is ear-piercing, while his growl is about as intimidating as a Chihuahua’s. The 1-4-1 make fun of him for it all the time, much to his chagrin.

TBC—

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Okay weird request but here we go:

James x heavily tatted!reader (any gender you want)

James is getting his first tattoo (I think it was like 1998) and he starts to get really nervous before his first appointment

So the reader helps calm him down and reassure him during the entire appointment about how well he’s doing and how awesome it’s going to look

I hope you like it!❤

Ink to Ink

The studio was buzzing softly with the hum of fluorescent lights and the tattoo gun, a rhythmic sound that was both soothing and invasive. James could feel the energy shift in his body—the nervousness building up in his chest, creeping down to his fingertips. He was sitting in the tattoo chair, his body tense and uncomfortably still. Every tiny sound around him felt amplified—the scrape of the artist's gloves, the quiet clink of the equipment.

He'd always admired your tattoos, the way they seemed to embody everything you were—bold, confident, unapologetically yourself. But now that it was his turn, all that admiration felt distant, replaced by a steady pulse of anxiety.

"Are you sure about this?" James muttered, looking over at you. He leaned back in the chair, his arm resting against the armrest as the artist prepared the ink. The nervous energy radiating off him was palpable. He had the appearance of a man who could handle anything, yet right now, he looked like a deer in headlights.

"Of course I’m sure," you replied with a playful smile, your voice calm and steady as you gave his hand a gentle squeeze. You sat beside him, your heavily inked arms resting in your lap. Your tattoos, intricately designed, were your personal expression, each piece telling a unique story, and you knew exactly how powerful that feeling could be. You had seen it in your own life—getting tattooed was like adding a permanent chapter to a book that was still being written.

"Just... I don’t know," James continued, his voice trailing off. "What if it hurts too much? What if it’s not as cool as I think it’s gonna be?"

You tilted your head, catching his gaze with a reassuring smile. "James," you said, your thumb brushing across his knuckles in an intimate, grounding gesture. "You’re gonna be fine. You’re tougher than you give yourself credit for." You leaned closer, your face softening, your voice lowering. "And trust me, this tattoo is gonna look amazing. You’ll see. The pain? It’s nothing. You’re more than capable."

He glanced at you, his anxiety still clouding his face, but you could tell he was listening. He trusted you, which gave you a little more confidence in how to help him through this. You had to admit—it was a little endearing, watching him squirm in the chair like a nervous wreck, even though he was usually the one who was in control of everything around him.

"I don’t know," James muttered again, chewing on his bottom lip, and for a moment, he seemed like he was about to say something more. But before he could continue, the artist gave a little nod, signaling that everything was ready to begin. The tattoo machine hummed to life, and the buzzing filled the air.

James immediately flinched, his body stiffening like a board.

"Hey," you said gently, "look at me." Your voice was quiet but firm, making sure he focused on you rather than the needle. "Just breathe. In and out, slow. You’ve got this."

He met your eyes, and for a split second, he hesitated. There was something in his gaze, a flicker of uncertainty that you’d never seen before. Something deeper than just nerves. And for the first time, you saw a vulnerability in him, a crack in his armor that he wasn't used to showing.

You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, this time a little firmer. "You’re stronger than this, James. You can do it. Just breathe."

The first few lines of the tattoo went by in a blur of buzzing noise and the scratch of the needle. James’ body tensed up again, but his breathing began to even out as he focused on your voice.

"See? Not so bad," you whispered, giving him a gentle smile. "It’ll feel like a light scratch after a while."

But he wasn’t listening to the pain or the tattoo gun anymore. There was something on his mind, and he finally seemed ready to let it out. He shifted in the chair, his eyes flicking nervously between you and the artist, but you could tell he was trying to push through the discomfort to say something important.

"I—" he started, voice tight and hesitant, but the words caught in his throat as he glanced down at his arm, his fingers gripping the edge of the chair. "I’ve... I’ve wanted to say this for a while now," he finally managed, his voice a little shakier than usual.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued but also a little worried. "Uh oh, what are you about to say, James?"

He cleared his throat, trying to steady his voice. "I just... I don’t know if I can do this again after this one. Like, what if I’m not as cool as you with all your tattoos?"

You burst out laughing, shaking your head. "Oh my god, seriously? That’s what’s been stressing you out this whole time?" You lightly nudged him with your elbow, trying to suppress your giggles. "You’re gonna survive this, and you will be cool, no worries. Just focus on this first one, alright? You’ll be rocking a sleeve in no time."

James looked at you, still trying to look serious despite the smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, but I swear, if my tattoo ends up looking like a blob after this, I’ll blame you."

"Don’t worry," you grinned, "I'll make sure it’s the best blob you’ve ever seen."

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but laugh along with you. "I swear, this is a disaster waiting to happen."

"Disaster? Look at me," you said with a playful wink, "I’m a walking disaster and I look awesome."

The tattoo artist gave a small chuckle, clearly used to dealing with the banter of nervous first-timers. "Alright, alright, let’s keep it focused, folks. We’re almost done here."

"Yeah, yeah, I’m focused," James grumbled, though his playful smile was still there, softening the tension.

You leaned back in your chair, happy to see his nerves melting away. "This is the worst part, I swear. You're doing amazing. And when it’s done, you’re going to look like a total badass." You flashed him a bright grin. "Just don’t blame me if you end up getting addicted to it and start showing up with more tattoos next time."

"That’ll be your fault, obviously," he shot back with a grin. "You’ll be the one enabling me."

You smirked and shrugged. "Hey, I’m just a bad influence. But trust me, by the time this session ends, you'll be ready for round two."

James snorted, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "I thought you were the one who wasn’t supposed to scare me. But look at you, setting me up for a lifetime of ink."

The tattoo artist finished the first part of the design, stepping back and wiping away the excess ink. "Alright, just a few more touches," the artist said, giving you both a nod.

James looked down at his arm, the tattoo now a beautiful, bold design slowly coming to life. "It’s already looking better than I imagined," he said quietly, and you could hear the pride in his voice.

"You’re doing amazing," you said, leaning closer to him. "You’re tough, and this tattoo? It’s gonna look awesome when it’s finished."

He gave you a crooked smile, squeezing your hand back. "Thanks. For everything. Really."

"You're welcome," you said softly, your fingers brushing against his again, a quiet promise between the two of you. "Now, let’s just get you out of here before you decide you want another one."

James shot you a playful look. "Don’t get any ideas. We’ll see if I survive this one first"

The tattoo machine hummed steadily as James sat in the chair, his hand still gripping yours. The tension from earlier had faded, but you could see him flinch every so often as the needle worked on his skin.

“You’re doing great,” you reassured him, your voice calm and steady. “It’ll be over soon.”

James managed a small smile, glancing down at the ink slowly taking shape. "Yeah, it’s not as bad as I thought." He shifted again, trying to get more comfortable. "I honestly thought I’d be losing my mind by now, but... I’m fine."

“You’re tougher than you think,” you said with a gentle squeeze of his hand. "I told you, it’s just a little sting. And it looks amazing."

He glanced up at you, a bit of his usual confidence coming back. "I didn’t expect it to feel like this, but... I guess I can handle it." He paused and then added, a little cheekily, "Maybe I’ll get another one after this."

You raised an eyebrow. "Already thinking about the next one?"

James laughed softly, his nervous energy easing into something lighter. "Yeah, I didn’t expect to feel this way about it. It’s... kind of nice, like something permanent about me."

You smiled at his words, watching him as the artist worked. "Exactly. It’s yours, a mark of who you are."

As the session went on, you saw him relax even more, the tension melting away as the tattoo came to life on his skin. With the final touches being done, James flexed his arm, inspecting the finished design.

“Looks... better than I imagined,” he said quietly, almost in awe.

You smiled, leaning closer. “I told you you’d love it.”

James turned his head toward you, his expression softening, and you could see the pride in his eyes. "Thanks for being here. I wouldn’t have made it through without you."

His words made you smile, and without thinking, you leaned forward and kissed his cheek lightly. "I’m proud of you," you whispered.

James blinked in surprise, his cheeks coloring slightly. "Well, I’m glad you think so. Guess I’m officially part of the tattoo club now."

You chuckled softly, squeezing his hand again. "Definitely. And who knows? Maybe you’ll be back for more."

He laughed, now fully at ease, his earlier nerves gone. "Yeah, I think I might be."

You both looked at his arm together, a bond of shared moments and new experiences now marked on his skin.

[the-s1lly-corner]

An Eraser (Bloody Painter x Reader) (7MIH Ending 7)

only about four characters left and then we are done! wondering what fandom to do next hmm.... im also thinking of possibly making a quotev acc so i can more interactive stuff- having polls at the ends of these have been fun but quizzes sound so cool tbh reminder that there are polls at the ends of these to determine the next ending notes: reader is gn, admin is still trying to figure out how he wants to write helen outside of hc posts, hes got a bit of a crush on you cws: none word count: 1775

You reach your hand into the hat and pull out…

An eraser. Not the pink blocky ones you would usually see. No, it was one of those fancier malleable ones. The ones you see artists use every now and then… You didn’t even need to look around the room- there was only one person you could think of who would have something like this. You shift the eraser between your index and thumb and show it to Helen who only pats his thighs and rises to his feet. 

“Well damn, alright then.” Jeff said under his breath, seemingly disappointed that he didn’t get to delay the surprise of who you got until you were both shoved into darkness. Jeff flicked his head towards the hallway, “Closets down that way, you’ve both got seven minutes the second the door closes you got that?” His wide blue eyes darted between you and Helen- who had already joined you at your side. You didn’t even notice him closing in on you. 

You decide not to say anything, instead choosing to walk down the hallway that was motioned towards. Helen kept up with your footsteps, his own nearly perfectly matching up with your own. When you stopped, as did he.

It wasn’t until you made it to the closet door that he made his own move, and it was as simple as opening it and waiting for you to enter first. 

“Thank you,” You mutter under your breath and slip right past him. You slink into the back corner of the small space. 

The door shuts behind Helen, leaving the both of you in darkness. 

You tap your palms against the wall behind you as you scrape your head for something to say to fill the silence. Helen decided to be kind enough to break the silence for you.

“I never took you as someone who would play this game,” 

He catches you off guard. 

In an instant you’re straightening up and trying to come up with an explanation. Was this an accusation? Judgment? 

“I mean I don’t usually but-”

“I’m not saying that it’s a bad thing, I’m playing as well,” He gently cut you off. You suck some air between your teeth and fall silent. 

“You don’t seem like the type to play games like this either, you know… I mean, I’m personally fine playing… this stuff… but you kinda…” You fail to find the words. “Seem reserved to yourself?”

The air falls quiet once more for a few moments before it's broken for a second time by Helen. “I was encouraged to put myself out for tonight,”

You hum in response and move your hands from the wall to the bottom of your shirt, busying your fingers with the fabric. 

“Yeah? By who? …Pup right? I only ever really see you hanging around with him,” 

Helen nods. 

You look down to the floor and stare down at your shoes, then to Helen’s- dully noting that he wore boots… stained with paint, or perhaps blood. It was nearly impossible to tell in the darkness. 

“Well, I’m glad there’s one person here that you like- or at least enjoy enough! I remember you hardly ever left your room for anything when you first arrived here,” You give him a smile and hope that he could see it. 

“There’s two, actually.” 

You snap your eyes back up to his mask. 

“It was you who gave me the nerve to stick around for the games, if you didn’t come downstairs I’d have gone back up to my room… though I do wish I got the chance to talk to you before everyone gathered…” He paused. 

“Too many people…” He muttered under his breath. 

“But I bumped right into you- how come you didn’t say anything?” 

Helen’s head tilts to the side. It feels like his eyes were raking themselves over your body- from head to toe. You do your best not squirm under his gaze. 

“You took me by surprise… Nerves is all.” 

You hum again and clench your fists into your shirt fabric.

“How…” You start. Helen rights the angle of his head and you pull your eyes away from his mask. “How long did you…”

Was he admitting to having feelings for you or did he simply want to be your friend? You work your jaw… you could be horribly misreading this. You could make a fool of yourself. 

“How long did you have a thing for me?” 

Helen only chuckles softly- a sound that only lasts for a few seconds before its quieted. “For quite a while… months, now.” 

You open your mouth to reply but he’s already answering your question.

“I wanted to see how long until you approached first,” Helen takes a step towards you. He leans over you with a gaze still fixed right on your face. He smells of paints and iron, and you fight yourself not to scrunch your nose as the scent washes over you. “But I grow tired of waiting, and there’s no one here to steal you away- during the party, of course,” 

He stops right in front of you, leaving just enough space for you to make an escape if you wanted to. “I was hoping you would take out my eraser, even if we do not share a moment of intimacy having you just to myself for a moment is fine enough for me,” 

Your mind blanks for a split second at his words for a moment. 

You had nearly forgotten the outcomes of games like this- though you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind it all that much. You looked at his mask again to try to find his eyes, however you were only met with failure… you force your eyes to remain locked onto the mask’s sockets though as you try to find your voice again.

“I will not force anything on you, nor will I act without your word,” He softly spoke and backed up a few inches away from you. You finally release the hem of your shirt and reach forward- lightly gripping the sleeves that were folded and bunched against his wrists. 

“I… wouldn’t mind-” You grin up at Helen. It’s faster paced than what you normally preferred for relationships, but you had found yourself emboldened by the current setting you’ve found yourself in. “So long as this isn’t a trick to get my blood for one of your projects,” You teased.

…

“I’m joking of course… not giving you my bodily fluids before the first date,” You swat the idea down and pull Helen closer. He allows you to, even lowering his face closer to yours. 

“I wouldn’t… I’ve no spare canvases as it is already… a work with your matter requires one purely devoted to it,” He mutters into your ear. A shiver runs up your spine as he rested his hands on either side of you- effortlessly freeing his sleeves from the admittedly not very tight grasp you had on them.

Helen pulled away and settled his face in front of you, seemingly taking in every single feature of your face. You’d swear he could memorize every pore if he could, if it weren’t too dark. 

He was… close… to say the least…

Helen peeled one of his gloves hands from the wall and let the finger sprawl across his mask. He didn’t take it off or slip it upwards towards his forehead. Instead he shifted it to the side, shielding his face away from the door… but allowing it to give you a full view of his face. 

He looked… tired… more than you were expecting given the hours you assumed he spent on his paintings. Despite that, his blue eyes were nearly glowing with life. Or at least carried a sense of thrill in them- a stark contrast to the otherwise neutral expression pulled across his face… there was a light dust of red across his cheeks… faint in the darkness but you could just barely see it thanks to the proximity. 

Helen remained still and unmoving in front of you despite all of this, though.

Your eyes darted across his face, before his earlier words sparked an idea in you.

You make the first move and begin to lean forward to him, and gently press your lips against his. In an instant you can feel his mouth attempting to twitch upwards into a grin before he simply started to kiss back. Helen’s hands returned to the wall on either side of you and remained. Instead, it was you that decided to begin touching him; by choosing to run your hands through his black hair and move the strays out of the way. 

You both remained that way for… you weren’t paying attention- the only thing that caught you off guard and made you pull your face away from his was light flooding into the small room.

“Woah! Damn! Okay!” Jeff chuckled as he stood in the doorway. 

You shoot a glare at him- you didn’t hear him announce how much time was left… Did he give a warning? It didn’t matter now as your face burned hotter than it had when the door was closed. 

Helen doesn’t seem to pay much mind to Jeff. He only rose to his full height and pulled his mask over his face back to its original position. Only then did he actually turn to face the doorway straight on. 

“You didn’t knock, Jeffery.” He said lowly.

Clearly irritated. 

You pull away from the wall and follow after Helen as he steps out of the closet. 

“Didn’t think you’d actually have the balls to do anything… damn…” Jeff shot back.

“I owe a Nina some drinks, damn…” You caught him muttering as you passed by. You tried to fight the urge to step on his foot as you passed, instead choosing to focus on Helen, who was waiting on the other side of the hall for you. 

“Hey,” 

Helen nods to you. You chew the inside of your cheek as things fall silent once more… How does one proceed after something like this with someone as reserved as Helen? You shift your weight between your feet.

“Do you want to go somewhere else? You’ve gotten what you wanted from the party- and game-” You sheepishly smile up at him. 

Helen studies you hard for a moment.

“I would love that,” 

“Cool… cool nice,” You smile. He takes your hand after your eyes nervously dart over it. 

You weren’t surprised when he started to lead you to the stairs, and even less when he passed by your room and to his.

[whitehotwild]

Butcher needs a weirdo girlfriend. just a strange little guy that he doesn't really know what to do with. thoughts on this please. inbox is OPEN. GO!

[krotiation]

this soundtrack genuinely makes me so emotional like damn. the jack vs fiona scene at the end of ep 2 is already so perfect and then they had to go make this beautiful as hell ost with it too. those bastards

[waywardsalt]

anyways. holding linebeck gently