#i had such a shitty day and have just been truly fighting the urge to cry

[allamericansbitch]

.

[sinning-23]

Backseat Pillow Princess

Hey y'all! I like to call this game, "Guess what I saw and cant stop fucking thinking about?" Take this because I need them both carnally and I'm sure you do too!

Enjoy :D

Warnings: violence, blood, swearing, the reader is annoying and Logan pretends to hate it in a way that seems like he actually does, they should have fucked but uhhh they didn't, lots of tension, pt.2 coming soon hopefully?

PT.2 UP NOW

"Bae i love youuu, you my everythinggg~"

"Can she shut the fuck up"

"I'm your main bitchhhh, fuck a wedding ringggg~"

"Only if you ask her nicely,"

"Nah, I like when he's mean."

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me"

The nonstop back-and-forth bickering had been going on for about 2 and a half hours now and the man the myth the legend, Wolverine was getting dangerously tired of it, unfortunately. Your shitty renditions of Sexyy Red matched with Deadpools incessant yapping was becoming too much to bear.

But little did he know, that was exactly your plan.

"Are we there yetttt" You whine from the backseat, sprawled out with your arm over your face.

It had been what felt like days (despite it only being a couple hours as previously mentioned) you'd been driving and the fact that you were in a small space filled with touch-starved testosterone(Wade and Logan) wasn't helping your case.

"If you shut up it'll go faster," Logan grumbles, Wade's chatting only worsening.

"No, it won't, you're just being mean! What's a sexy, super talented, immortal.. sorta, girl like myself supposed to do?" You whine again, an idea soon popping into your head.

If there was anything you loved more than seeing how far you could push this crotchety son of a bitch, it was stirring the pot.

Knowing the idiot riding passenger, a slip-up was inevitable and all it would take was the right pressure applied from yours truly.

"Hey Wade, wanna ask Wolvie what he's gonna do when he gets back? To his own timeline that is." You hum, resting your elbows on the middle console and your chin in your palms.

Ah yes, the fantasy your sick little brain conjured up was almost to fruition. All they needed were a few nudges and you'd all be at each other's throats with as much violent, sexual tension you could dream of.

"Yeah, what will you do if the TVA can fix your timeline?"

Bingo

You lean back, preparing for the absolute bloodbath that's bound to take place as the tension skyrockets.

Now up until this point, you'd be trying your damndest to get into Wolverine's pants, call it 'something you needed to scratch off your bucket list'. Anyway, from the "Mad Max"(as Wade put it) esque part of the void all the way here, you made your fair share of passes.

Unfortunately, all were shot down with a snark comment, the unsheathing of those gorgeous adamantium claws, or a growl...all of which only further fueled your desire. What could you say you liked a challenge?

"What did you say?"

You lean forward, making eye contact with Wade, his head shaking as if to say "No don't don't don't" but you were never good with social cues.

"He said 'IF' sweetheart." You retort, practically kicking your feet as the look in Logan's eyes grows wild, that growl barely bubbling in his throat as he and Wade converse back and forth.

"You shut the fuck up." He seethes, though directed at you his eyes stay focused on Wade.

You fight the urge to say 'make me" but you soon become quiet when Logan really starts to read your buddy in red. Oh, this fucker was definitely projecting...

"And you," He's got an accusatory, gloved finger pointing at the center of your face.

"You got some unresolved daddy issues or something? I don't know what hole or holes you're trying to fill but I can sure as shit tell you the harder you try to get under my skin the more it makes me wanna rip yours off that pretty-looking face." He growls, your heart practically beating out of your chest.

"Now I suggest each of you shut your goddamn mouths until we are where we need to be."

It's silent for a second again and you can feel the bridge about to break...anyyy second now.

"I'm gonna fight you now."

Three...

Logan chuckles, amused at the fact that Wade would even suggest he could getaway with something like that

Two..

And mid-sentence, Wade's fists make contact with Logan's nose.

One.

You scoot back, the car shaking as Wades head makes contact with hr car door and then the radio, each smack of his skull changing the station.

“Omg nooo don’t kill each other you’re both so hot and sexy and cool, nooo.” You yelp, your false concerned pleas falling on deaf ears.

And once the blood from each blow splatters against your face, you feel a bit opted to join in. Besides, he hurt your feelings, he deserved a little ass-kicking.

Question, when three seemingly frustrated and regenerative assholes get into a car fight with tensions, sexual or otherwise, that have been building for about 2 days now, what happens?

You slip past the pair of claws that just barely nick your side as you shove the driver's seat forward, effectively trapping Logan for a moment.

"You did this on purpose! You honry fuck!" Wade shouts, using his elbow to crack your skull and shoved you right back into your spot behind them before you can respond. Logan pushed the seat back again, now trapping you as his claws stabbed through the cushion, impalling you through the back of the seat.

"FUCK! This isn't how this was supposed to pan out in my head!" You yelp, gasping when the claws leave you feeling the worst kind of empty.

"I didn't even do anything he's the one that lied!" You seethe, using the heel of your boot to kick Wade's side in, the crack of bones bringing you much satisfaction.

"IT WAS AN EDUCATED WISH!" He defends, unloading about 3 bullets into your sternum before kicking Logan out the winsheild, glass falling inside and out.

You take a gulp of air, digging the bullet out before locking your arm around Wade's neck and the passenger seat headrest.

"You red-clad cunt! I was supposed to rizz him up, fuck him, and ride off into the sunset with my rugged fucking mountain of a man and you RUINED IT!" You shout, releasing Wade when six separate knives dig right back into you.

Taking the chance, you throw the back of your head at his face before pulling his claws from out your sides and kicking Wade's chest in. Looks like legs were your strong suit today!

"You said you didn't wanna fill any holes, yet here we are!" You growl in frustration, turning back around to shove your boot heel into this man's rock-hard chest.

He only grabs your ankle, pulling you forward, once again skewered by his claws. Your position is less than ideal, any other angle would for sure look l like you were on the receiving end of some damn good strokes.

And there it is, that stupid bloodied grin he gives while he watches your eyes squeeze shut and your head tilt back. A light, yet pained swear left your bloodied lips and the gasp that leaves your lungs when his claws retracted was just as erotic as you'd imagine.

"Would've been better off fucking at this point huh?" You joke, seeing Wade creep up behind the backseat door.

"Maybe." He responds a bit coy, the tension only dying down for a fraction of a second before you're at each other's throats again.

With your help, Wade is right back in the car, and the three of you are now waiting for the next move. Logan's up against the dash, Wade is heaving against the backseat by your side, the two of you manspreading with a dangerously hungry look directed at the man in yellow.

"This is pointless. We're gonna be here for hours regenerating and fucking each other up, but damn if it isn't fun." you chuckle, letting your head lull back against the completely destroyed headrest.

"So what do you suggest, 'sweetheart'," Logan growls, using your little pet name from earlier.

"Oh I think you know very well what I suggest, but I'm starting to believe you just can get it up can you peepaw?" You insult, Logan's face contorting in a sneer.

There's another silence, your gaze locked with Logan's as you both teeter on the edge of regular frustration and the urge to rip each other's clothes off. This fuckers love language was definitely acts of playful violence...if playful meant an absolute bloodbath in this stupid-ass honda odyssey.

"I feel like there's some underlying tension here that I definitely wanna be a part of.

"You shut the fuck up" You speak simultaneously, Wade doing just that.

"So what'll it be, bub. Fuck me or fight me?" You mock, seeing that smile right back on his face.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You would like to say that the remainder of the day, into the night, all the way into the wee hours of the morning were spent furiously love-making in the bloody and battered Honda, but that would only be half the truth.

The moonlight had shone so brightly down on the three of you, each movement calculated, as you continued to punch, stab, pick and damn near fuck each other in the enclosed space.

At one point your hands were pinned to the dented dashboard, Logan slotted between your legs, Wade right behind your oddly bent body....accept Wade's gun was at the small of your back and Logan had his hand wrapped tightly around your throat as your legs squeezed as tight as possible.

And at another, you'd been hovering above Logan, hands at his chest while Wade had a fistful of your hair, his grip lethal... a-although your hands were only at his chest cause you were double-fisting two knives that you had wedged to the hilt into each to his pectorals...and Wade was also pulling your hair to get a better angle at your chest since he deemed it was "only fair" considering you were going the same to the man beneath you.

It had only gotten worse, your comments ranging from rude to just plain nasty, and the farther along you went in the night....strangely enough, the better everything felt. The slight accidental/intentional grind of your hips against Logans, or the way you just so happened to fall back into Wade's chest, your bodies pressed so close together you could feel each breath you both took.

"Oh you just don't know when to quit, do you honey?" Logan grumbles, throwing you off him, your positions quickly switch.

"Not in my vocabulary sweetheart." You shoot back, gasping when Wade grips your hair again.

"Yeah, thought you were seeing the pattern ready peanut, she's hard to break." He chuckles, a filthy smile making its way over your bloodied face.

You were practically sandwiched, Wade behind you, his chest to your back, and your legs just barely make room for Logan who was kneeling one leg on the backseat, the other slightly off the edge.

"This is a little unfair don't you think? Feels like I'm about to get tag-teamed." You joke, the moonlight illuminating the current position just enough.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? You're sick." Logan scoffs, only feeding into your slight delusions.

"Yeah, I might be sick but you're a hypocrite, You want it too, don't you? I know for sure Wade does, 'cause that's definitely not his gun on my ass." You shoot back, body and brain stirring from the hours of activities.

He doesn't say anything, just tightens he grip he has on your hips.

“Cmonnn, we had our nice,” you glance over at the destroyed radio, your hopes of trying to get the time seemingly crushed.

“We’ll say 9 hours give or take, we’ve already been fighting and none of us are really satisfied.”

You can feel Wade adjust, his hands now secure at your shoulders, massaging the small of your neck with his thumbs.

“We all know what’s gonna solve that and we can put this whole debacle behind us.” You coax, your hips rolling a bit to meet his and he turn his head, jaw working as if he was seriously considering the offer.

And with a finally huff what really sounded more like a growl of last restrained, he’s on you.

——————————————————————-

YES IM MAKING A PART TWO YES THERE WILL BE SMUT BECAUSE WTF YALL. UHHH HOPE YOU ENJOY LMK IF YOU WANNA BE TAGGED I. THE NEXT PART!

[captain-hawks]

liability

levi ackerman x f!reader

summary: the tables are turned when you save Levi during a mission, nearly getting yourself killed in the process. he's furious, but you don't quite understand why.

word count: 1.6k

content: feels, confessions, kissing

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

You startle as the heavy wooden door to the room bursts open, hinges groaning weakly in protest as Levi strides in, slamming it just as hard behind him. The warm glow from the small lantern sitting on the desk beside you contrasts sharply with the cold steel of the eyes it illuminates when he comes to stand before you, everything about his posture conveying the extent of the anger roiling dangerously inside of him. 

Carefully closing the notebook you were recording field notes in for Hange, you let go of the pencil in your hand and try to ignore how uncharacteristically ruffled Levi’s hair is, as if he’s been repeatedly dragging his hands through it. You quell your urge to comment on it—because any other day, you’d make a remark just to get a rise out of him.

But you know better than to poke the bear right now, not when you’re well aware you’re the origin point of the fury that he’s outright shaking with. A trail of dried blood remains crusted to the side of his face, matching the dark stains along the torn and tattered remains of his dark green cloak. 

He almost died today.

And so did you.

“That you were about to be Titan food if nobody stepped in to help you,” you offer in a flat tone, arms crossed over your chest.

Levi clicks his tongue against his teeth in annoyance, swiping a thumb across the cut on his bottom lip as he continues to level you with that piercing stare. “I was fine,” he snaps.

He was two seconds from being torn to shreds by the three Titans that cornered him while he fought to re-engage his malfunctioning ODM gear, and if you hadn’t come ricocheting through the trees to distract them, humanity may have very well finally lost its strongest soldier.

You tell him as much, throwing your hands in the air in exasperation, and he takes a step toward you, borderline shouting, “I told you to stand the fuck down.”

He had.

You’d locked eyes with him the moment you careened through the thick cover of the branches, had clearly heard what he shouted at you the moment he realized what you were about to do—and you’d promptly ignored his command.

“I didn’t hear you,” you shrug, though you both know it for the bald lie that it is.

He moves closer.

“I’m your Captain, and I gave you a goddamn order.”

“It was a shitty order. You would have died,” you retort.

Levi nearly closes the distance between the two of you, your back pressing against the wall behind you as the toes of his boots scuff against your own. With one hand splayed flat on the surface beside your head, his breath is hot on your face as he seethes, “You almost died.”

A Titan had grabbed you, almost crushing you to death in the process as your fingers fumbled for purchase on your sword, hoping that your last remaining blade would hold out. You hadn’t had time to think through a solid plan, your body having jumped into action without a second thought the moment you realized Levi was well and truly fucked when you could no longer see and hear him soaring through the air. So you’d acted on pure instinct, buying Levi the precious moments he needed to get his gear back in working order, and he’d then immediately killed the Titan that had you in its grip.

It was fine. You both survived.

Barely.

You’d hardly had time to say a word to Levi afterward, both of you caught up in rejoining the main fray of the battle alongside your fellow Scouts.

“I’m fine,” you counter, turning your head to the side to break the intense eye contact.

Levi grasps your chin, turning your head to face him again, mouth set in a hard line. “You’re reckless,” he growls. 

You sigh in annoyance, fighting a losing battle to temper down your body’s reaction to Levi’s close proximity, the whisper of his body heat like a beacon to your tired, weary bones. 

Right.

So maybe your reckless decision wasn’t just made out of the goodness of your heart as a Scout, but also was heavily inspired by one inescapable, undeniable fact—you’re in love with Levi Ackerman.

Your crush had been innocent enough at first, a bright flare of feelings sparking to life inside of you the first time you watched the way he effortlessly operates on missions. One would have thought that, as you became familiar with his cold and merciless demeanor up close, his piss poor attitude with you and your fellow Scouts would help quell the frantic beating of your heart every time he was in your proximity.

But that wasn’t the case, not at all.

Rather, you found yourself even more drawn to him, craving the few and far between moments when you’d catch him letting his guard down. The moments when, despite his scathing remarks, it was abundantly clear just how much he cared about each and every member of the Scout Regiment.

The moments when you saw just how far he’d go to protect those closest to him. 

And when you found yourself transferred to run under Levi’s command, stamping down on the inconvenient, endlessly smoldering embers of your laughably unrequited crush only became more difficult as you were forced into even closer quarters with him than ever before. The only thing that helped after that was Levi’s unfailing tendency to express one of only two emotions toward you at all times: stark indifference or annoyed exasperation. 

Unable to formulate a smart response to snap into the scant space remaining between your mouths, you mutter, “You’re reckless, too.”

Levi places his other hand on the wall on the other side of your head, effectively caging you in, his hair brushing against your forehead. “Well you can’t be,” he seethes.

“I’d argue that your life matters more than most of the others here,” you offer plainly, meaning every word.

“Not to me.”

You roll your eyes, “Self-deprecation doesn’t suit you, Capt—”

“Your life matters more to me,” he cuts you off roughly, voice nearly breaking.

If it weren’t for the steady pressure of the wall holding you up, you would have swayed. “What?”

One of his hands curls into a fist, his eyes falling shut for a moment as he takes a deep, steadying breath. “I was furious when you were switched into my squad.”

Yeah, he’d been downright incorrigible for days.

“I noticed,” you comment, deflating slightly. 

Your life? The lives of your fellow Scouts, of all of you. 

Of course.

“That’s not what I…” He stares at you, eyebrows knitting together, a strange expression on his face. “You don’t know, do you?” Stormy slate softens to the soft gray hue of the skies after a storm as his eyes scan your face. 

“I know that I annoy you to no end and you spent weeks petitioning Erwin to move me elsewhere,” you roll your eyes.

“Because my feelings make me a liability on the field with you under my command.”

Blood rushes in your ears, and your next words are so tentative, so small, “Your feelings?”

Levi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly underestimating just how unbelievable the words coming out of his mouth are. “I can’t think straight around you,” he chokes out, his forehead falling against yours.

“But you…” you trail off, trying to reconcile the conflicting meaning of what he’s saying with what you’ve come to believe for so long. 

“I’ve been trying to avoid this, how I feel, because it wouldn’t be fair to you. It’s why I…act the way I do around you.”

Idly, you wonder if it’s actually possible to forget how to breathe. “What do you want, Levi?” you ask quietly, carefully placing a hand over his chest, his heart beating steadily behind his ribcage. 

He covers your hand with his own and murmurs, “Something that would be really goddamn selfish in the grand scheme of things,” glancing down at the winged emblem on his jacket.

“And what if I want you to be selfish?”

A sharp inhale from Levi is your only warning before he cups your face in his hands and brings his lips crashing into yours. 

Your body sinks into his embrace as he wraps you up in his arms, fingers splayed possessively along the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. He kisses you hard, like he’s trying to convey everything that he’s been holding back, every touch he’s denied himself in your presence. 

The cinders in your chest ignite, burning hotter with each press of his plush lips against yours, each nip of his teeth along your bottom lip. His fingertips are a searing brand on your waist as he grasps your hip, tugging out a small, needy whine from your lips in return, and his warm, answering chuckle has your legs threatening to give out beneath you. 

You both freeze suddenly at the sound of two rapid knocks against the door, followed by the sound of Hange calling out, “Hey, did you want to go over those notes?”

The look Levi gives your notebook, innocently sitting atop the table, is downright scathing as he barks out, “She’s busy.”

“Levi?” Hange asks, tone brimming with curiosity.

“We’re busy,” he exhales, tilting his head up toward the ceiling in annoyance.

The answering noise that leaves Hange’s mouth can only be described as complete and total delight as they laugh before walking away, footsteps pointedly loud as they make their way back down the hallway.

Realizing that you had actually noted a few important things regarding new discoveries on Titan behavior, your eyes stray back to the notebook, uncertain. “Are you sure I shouldn’t just…”

“Absolutely not,” Levi cuts you off brusquely with another searing kiss, tugging you toward the bed in the corner of the room. “You’re mine tonight.”

— likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!

[miley1442111]

Hello!

I know its probably too soon but im obsessed with "i dont even know you anymore" but one of these days could you make a continuation with the reader and aaron getting close and the team sees it and they are all cute and he treats her like a gentleman (with a bit of age gap because...its just right).

Thank you, and i totally get it if you dont want to do it and want it to be just a "stand alone".

Xoxo😘

omg I love this idea!!!! i hope i did it justice :)

i don't even know you anymore- s.reid /a.hotchner

a/n: intended for fem or male reader, so imagine what you like:)))))))))

summary: you can get past your break up with Spencer, especially with Aaron by your side, right?

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader, brokenupspencer reid x reader

warnings: general angst, cheating and breaking up, general fighting, kissing, emotional stuff

PART 1

4 moths post-breakup

It had been a gruelling 4 months. You had moved out of Spencer and your shared apartment, much to his disappointment. You had broken up with him the morning after, knowing you wouldn’t have felt secure in the relationship had it gone on. Emily, your best friend on the team, had been letting you live with her and she had told Aaron. It was clear as day to everyone that Aaron had a soft spot for you. As the youngest on the team (you were the same age as Spencer, just a few months younger), he felt it was his duty. He’d always step in if a superior was belittling you, always step up if an officer was flirting with or objectifying you when Spencer was too busy to notice, and he had reached out after the breakup, telling you that he could reassign you if you wanted, but urged you to stay on the team since you were such an asset. 

Your text conversations started with that, and slowly evolved into daily conversations about anything. Cute photos of Jack, funny jokes that soon turned into inside jokes, ideas on cases, and plans to get coffee. Your daily texts from Aaron, the support from Emily and the team, and the knowledge that you’d done the right thing for yourself, made the shitty time easier. What wasn’t easy was Spencer's daily ‘apology coffee’. He’d get you a coffee from your favourite coffee shop and write a sticky note, begging to even just talk. It was becoming soul-shattering how sad he constantly looked. A part of you wanted to run back to him and just be there for him, but you knew it’d only cause you pain. Jj refused to talk to you unless it was about a case, or to chew you out over Spencer’s devastated state and her now failing marriage at least once a week. You’d reached out to Will, assuming he’d known. He hadn’t, and now he was taking the kids. You felt bad, truly, and you wished you hadn’t said anything, but there’s only so much someone can do. You’d told Jj the second it happened and apologised profusely. Did she curse you out over the phone? Yes. Did she say Spencer never truly loved you? Yes. 

But did any of that fix her marriage? No.

Cases and days passed uneventfully, full of blood, guts, and longing glances from Spencer. You had started going apartment hunting recently and you felt better. You felt like yourself again. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

6 months post-breakup 

This case was particularly difficult, the unSub was targeting women of your exact description, and you had been chosen to go undercover- your least favourite pastime. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know that right?” Derek asked as he watched you turn your mic on. 

“Who else is? He needs to be stopped.”

“You don’t have to be the one to stop him, his behaviour isn’t escalating-” Spencer had budded in but you held up a hand to silence him. His rambling used to make you feel special because you were the only one who truly listened to him. You never cut him off or said something back-handed. You never made it a joke. Now his rambling felt bitter and silly to your ears, a reminder of just how stupid you’d been. 

“I’ll be fine,” You sighed. “I’ve done this before, right?”

Derek nodded and pulled you into a quick hug. Spencer tried to pull you in for a hug but you dodged him, wanting to get all of this over with. You hated being undercover. It made you feel powerless and objectified.

“Agent?” Aaron coughed out and you stared in his direction. “Can I have a word?”

“Sure,” you shrugged and followed him into an empty interrogation room. “Planning on interrogating me?”

“Are you sure about this?” He asked, letting his guard down as he had so many times in the past few months. He had opened up about so much. He had opened up about Haley’s death, about how bad of a parent he feels, anything. He even let you come over and have a movie night with him and Jack once a week. Jack falls asleep halfway through and Aaron puts him to bed and you pick a movie that isn’t about paw patrol or trolls. Though you enjoy watching those all the same. Jack cuddles up to you and smiles at you until he falls asleep. It’s adorable. 

“I’m sure. I’ll be fine, don’t worry Aaron,” you smiled, taking his hand. “I’m trained for this, right?”

“I’ll be right there,” he promised. “Say the word and we’ll come in.”

“I know,” you chuckled. “Thank you.”

“Promise me you’ll be careful?” 

“I promise,” You smiled and kissed his cheek, leaving the room swiftly after. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Being undercover was just about as terrible as you thought it would be. The unSub was an asshole, of course he was- he was murdering women. But he was a particular kind of asshole, the kind that takes women down for their insecurities so that he could lure them to him. He was verbally degrading you and if you were being yourself, you would’ve talked back. But, you were undercover and playing a college student. 

And that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was when Spencer came in, acting as your ‘boyfriend’ to get him away, ruining the only chance you had at capturing the guy. You slumped against your seat in the SUV as Spencer attempted to justify his actions to the rest of the team outside the car.

“I thought he was going to-” He was speaking a mile a minute, but stopped when Aaron put his hand up. 

“Do you have any idea what you just jeopardised?” He boomed, calm but clearly angry. “That was the closest we have ever been to him, and now he knows your face Spencer. He also knows Y/n’s face. He knows you're with the FBI and he knows we’re looking for him! Do you have any idea how stupid that was?” 

“Hotch I’m sorry I-I was worried-” he tried to apologise but Aaron cut him off again.

“Spencer, we were all worried about Y/n. Every single one of us. But you have to remember that she’s a trained agent, and that she’s not your girlfriend anymore,” Aaron stormed off to the other car with Dave trailing behind as the rest of the team stood there, shocked. 

“This is all your fault Y/N!” Jj provoked. “None of this would’ve happened if you didn’t make it such a big deal!”

You rolled your eyes and put on your headphones, the want to leave the team grew stronger everyday. You hated Spencer. You hated Jj. You didn’t know how much more you could take. 

“Listen to me!” Jj urged and you just turned your music up as Emily and Derek began defending you.

Jj shoved you, and it was the last straw. You got up and out of the car. You knocked in Aaron’s window in the next car and he rolled it down. “Can I come with you two?”

They both nodded and Aaron opened his door, allowing you to climb in. 

“What’s going on?” Dave asked after a moment of silence. 

“The end of my time with the BAU. I’m leaving,” you sighed, not looking at Aaron. You’d technically gone over his head and went straight to Strauss, but you didn’t care. You weren't going to change your mind on this, and you didn’t want him to try. 

“That’s very sad news,” Dave sighed. “You’re a great asset to this team.”

“I’m just dividing it. There’s no need for me to cause this much trouble. Spencer would’ve never gone in if he didn’t think he was ‘saving’ our relationship, Jj would be more focused on work and there would be less tension. I’m so sick of everyone picking a side. It’s not fair.”

“But you shouldn’t have to leave, this doesn’t need to happen-” Aaron started but Dave cut him off. 

“You're doing a very kind thing for people that probably don’t deserve it,” Dave sighed. “Where are you planning on going after?”

“I don’t know yet,” You shrugged and saw Aaron practically deflate.

“You have no plan?” He asked, clearly concerned.

“No? I have a law degree, I might go into that, or I’ll just join another department at Quantico. I don’t have everything mapped out right now Aaron.”

Aaron remained with a hardened look on his face the rest of the ride to the airport. The tension in the air was palpable and, to be honest, you were sick of it. You just wanted this to be over with. It was draining, and taking a toll on you mentally. Any breakup would, but this breakup included the team. The most important people to you were forced to pick a side and chose who was in the wrong or right. Jj and some others from the office had picked Spencer’s side, saying it was unfair that you didn’t hear him out. Whereas Penelope, Emily, Aaron, Dave, Derek, and the rest of the office took your side, saying it was wrong to kiss someone else, especially a mutual friend and coworker, and someone he’d admitted to having a serious crush on. You were done. You were leaving.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

8 months post-breakup 

Honestly, not being on the BAU had some getting used to. Your team had been your family for so long that being without them felt strange. You had been reassigned to the Criminal Justice Information Services Division, or CJIS for short. You’d moved a whole 4 and half hours away from Quantico, much to the team's chagrin. You loved it there, it was a nice change. Though, you missed your weekly movie nights at Aaron’s (those now had to be turned monthly), you missed your daily catch-ups with Emily which had to be moved over facetime, since you didn’t live down the block from each other anymore, and you missed being a profiler. You missed Pen, David and Derek, you even kind of missed Jj. 

A knock sounded at your door and you instantly got up and smiled, opening it without even looking. “Jack!” You wrapped the little boy up in a large hug and felt him giggle into your shoulder. You heard Aaron’s laughter and looked up at him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it as a small greeting. Jack wrangled himself out of your arms and began to run inside your house, desperate to eat the freshly popped popcorn you always made for him. 

“Hi honey,” Aaron smiled, pulling you in for a hug. His nicknames always made you feel special, your favourite being ‘honey’. You thought it sounded more romantic and endearing than other nicknames. Not that you thought of Aaron in a romantic way. Never. You wouldn’t. Not even when he picked Jack up with ease, a t-shirt on to show the swell of his biceps. Not when he crept his arm around you during movies. Definitely not when we helped you cook in the kitchen, for example, when you made bread. He looked so-

You pushed those feelings out of your head. 

“Hey Aaron,” you smiled as he pulled away. “How are you?” 

“I’m fine thank you, how are you?” He asked, a small smile on his face. 

“I’m good, I love my new department,” You beamed, though this topic was clearly a sore one for Aaron. His body language changed, he was more rigid, more tense. 

“That's good,” he deadpanned. “The BAU misses you.”

“I miss them too,” you chuckled, reminiscing on better times. “Send them my love, will you?”

“Of course, honey,” he smiled again as he saw you get flustered. 

The night went off as usual, Jack falling asleep immediately, putting him to bed in your guest bedroom, watching a movie, cleaning up, making out with Aaron on your couch- wait, what?

There you were, making out with Aaron on your couch. The tension had finally broken and now, his hands were on your waist as you straddled his legs, kissing him feverishly. 

“I want you,” Aaron rasped. “I want you as my girlfriend.”

You pulled away, catching your breath. “Seriously?”

He nodded and kissed you again, even more forceful than last time. 

“I’m yours,” you said in between kisses. 

“You’re mine.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

12 months post-breakup

Dating Aaron had been bliss. He was the perfect gentleman in every way, and he was perfect for you. You loved him. He loved you. He had also convinced you to come up to Quantico to see the team. Something that was becoming increasingly real as you stepped foot inside the bullpen and saw everyone’s faces. Spencer looked elated to see you, it was a full year since you’d broken up and maybe he was healed? Derek looked excited to see you, as did Penelope, David, Emily, and, of course, Aaron. He walked over and pulled you into a hug and smiled, happy that you were doing this. Penelope ran over next, then Emily, David, Derek and, finally, Spencer. Jj was nowhere to be seen- probably a good thing.

“It’s so good to see you, I didn’t realise you were coming back-” He rambled but you cut him off.

“I’m not coming back, I just came to say hi to everyone,” you smiled. “Aaron convinced me.”

Aaron tried to hide his smirk with his hand but it didn’t work well, and looking at Spencer, you’d think he was being faced with the most horrific challenge of his life. 

“You’re who Aaron’s dating,” Spencer stated and there was a collective gasp from the office. You looked to Aaron in panic and he nodded. 

“Yes, we are dating,” Aaron said, the focus turning to him. “It’s only new so I’d really like for everyone to calm do-”

“How could you do that to me?” Spencer turned to you, sounding broken-hearted. “You go after Hotch to make me, what? Jealous? To make me want you again? I’ve always wanted you, I’ll always want you! You don’t want him, you want me.”

“Spencer, I’m dating Aaron because I love him. Me and you are history, it happened a year ago!”

“It was a 3 year long relationship, you don’t just get over it in a few months,” Spencer seethed. 

“Yeah, it took me a long time, but I am over it.”

“That’s not fair,” Spencer stormed off, clearly upset but no one went after him. The rest of your visit was filled with catching up with people, laughter, and a nice dinner. You and Aaron went back to his house, since you didn’t feel like driving the 4 and half hours home. As you went inside, you saw Jessica, she smiled at you as you caught up, then left when you were done talking. She had been watching Jack and put him to sleep, meaning you and Aaron had the house practically to yourselves. You noticed Aaron had been acting off since the confrontation with Spencer, you assumed it was anger but no, it was something else. You grabbed his hand and sat him on the couch, sitting beside him. 

“Talk to me,” you pleaded, a hand running through his hair.

“About what?” he chuckled, though it lacked humour and life.

“About what’s wrong.”

He stared at you for a moment, then sighed. “I understood Spencer’s point. You shouldn’t want me. I’m not exactly in the prime of my life, I have a child, I’m not exactly up to going clubbing or things like that. You should be with someone your own age. Someone like Spencer-”

“Spencer cheated on me. Aaron, I love you. I love you so much. You’re the most handsome, caring, and loving person I’ve ever met, you’re a brilliant dad, you and I both know I wouldn’t go clubbing either way, and you’re very proficient in other forms of exertion so I wouldn't worry about that. I love you Aaron. You.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, a kiss that soon turned heated. You knew he understood you. You knew he heard you. And you knew you’d be ok. 

You loved him, he loved you.  

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[grlsinterrupted]

i hope your requests are open again but if not im so sorry!! but i was wondering if u could do a dallas winston x fem!reader where reader is having problems at home (her parents being shitty yk?) and she is just having a really bad day and shes on the verge of a break down but then dallas calls and says he needs bail but she cant bring herself to be angry or else she’ll finally break so she just agrees and goes to get him but he senses somethings wrong and tries to get her to talk to him and basically just a really really really soft dallas

sorry if thats too much😭❤️

but tysm i luv ur work🫶🏼

love is a gentle thing, your’s is thicker than a velvet ring ࿔*:･ﾟ

you’ve reached your breaking point | dallas winston x fem ! reader ⊹ ࣪ ˖

-

it’s insane how much a piece of paper dictates what you can do, what you can’t do, who you can talk to— your entire life, really. though it holds no monetary value, your report card has always seemed to define your self worth, and better yet, served as a constant reminder that you’ll never truly satisfy your parents. no matter how many hours you spent slaving away on your assignments, fighting back the urge to fall asleep right on your desk, your dedication will never be enough.

a thick silence fills the room, the only sound coming from the faint chirping of crickets and the rhythm of your rugged breathing. you’re seated on the corner of your bed, your hands shaking as you grapple onto the edges of your report card. the paper is crinkled, stained with tears and remnants of your mascara smeared across the letter ‘b+.’ the memory of your mother lecturing you about your grades replays in your head like a song you want to unhear. one single letter was enough to spiral you into a loop of madness. suddenly, the silence is broken by a ringing phone. you flinch, reaching over your nightstand to answer it.

you clear your throat, sniffling. “hello?”

a familiar voice huffs out a chuckle behind the phone. it didn’t take you long to realize that this accented tone belonged to none other than your boyfriend, dallas. “hey, doll. y���know how the fuzz are, they’ve been on my ass all week.”

“dal? are you seriously calling me from jail?” your voice is shaky as you bite back your tears, the report card’s weight heavy on your lap. despite how desperately you needed to cry, right now wasn’t the time. you’ve gathered all the composure remaining in you to deal with dallas’ reckless behavior.

“listen, i’m g’na need a couple bucks for bail. you’d do that for me, wouldn’t ya?”

all you can do is sigh. of course he’d called you for bail. even though you wanted to blow up at him over the phone and tell him to pay for his own bail, you couldn’t bring yourself to be angry at him. you were just as troubled as he was, if not, worse— the only difference being that you prioritized your future more than he ever would.

“sure, whatever. i’ll just- i’ll drive there right now. don’t do anything while i’m gone.”

dallas grazes his bloody knuckles against his a bruise on his cheekbone, wincing. somehow, he’d gotten into a fight with a soc while he was walking to buck’s place. granted that you’ve been silent the entire time, he could sense something was wrong with you— the way your eyes have lost that little sparkle in them, the way your head tilted downwards as the two of you walked out of the police station, and most of all, the fact that you didn’t even hug him once he was released.

despite the amount of times dallas has tried to reisist your post-jail hugs, they’re all he looks forward to while he’s stuck in his cell. your hugs blanket him with a sense of security— the kind of security he’s never had. without that subtle gesture, he felt as though a part of him was missing.

“you’ve been awfully quiet.” dallas mutters under his breath, looking down at you.

you shrug, shaking your head. “i never noticed.”

“yeah, but ya know what i notice?” he pockets his hands. “sum’s wrong with ya.”

you can feel your throat begin to close up as you reply. “nothing’s wrong, dal,” your voice begins to tremble as you tell yourself, do not cry in front of your boyfriend. “let’s just go home, now. i’m tired.”

“are ya mad at me for getting into a fight?” he raises a brow, nudging you with his shoulder. “‘cause if you are, he came onto me first.”

something in you snaps, emotions overflowing like a dam bursting. the stray tear that you’ve been fighting to hold back runs down your cheek. you’ve finally reached your limit. “i’m not mad at you for that! well- i am, but i’m just.. i’m stressed, okay?! everyone is stressing me out!”

dallas goes silent for a second, just watching you shatter in front of him. once he replies, his voice immediately softens. “y’know you can talk to me about anythin’, right?”

you gulp, wiping away the tear as you nod.

dallas runs a hand through his hair, biting the inside of his lip almost as if he’s hesitant to say something. he then begins to speak up.

“you forgot somethin’.”

he pulls you into a warm embrace, brushing his fingers through the strands of your hair as you cry into his arms. this time, the hug is offering you that sense of security that dallas yearns for. you’re finally safe in his arms, safe from all of the expectations set on you.

‘love is a gentle thing, your’s is thicker than a velvet ring ..’ .ᐟ ₊˚⊹♡

-

[helleboretks]

Kids Will Be Kids

This is a Sokouku Tickle Fic! With Lee!Chuuya, Ler!Dazai! If this isn’t your forte, no need to read!

Summary: Chuuya wants to get to their next mission, Dazai wants to satisfy his (both their) curiosity. We all know who gets what he wants anyway.

Dazai may be scary to a lot of people, but never truly to Chuuya.

It was odd to him at first, why everyone around him was so frightened by a literal child, only just reaching the fifteen mark in his years. If anything, to Chuuya he was…weird. Kind of a ridiculous weird, kind of a concerning weird. One of the most important emotions he seems to take pride in tends to be something close to listlessness.

He could be incredibly lazy if he wanted to, laying around and spacing out without a care in the world, and yet everyone would still steer clear of him if he was at least in the vicinity, or within earshot.

Chuuya did not exactly like what that implied.

But, no matter what Dazai did, whether it was shooting a corpse into the ground simply because what he gave them, the release of death, was something they ‘didn’t even deserve’, or using that master brain of his to create such elaborate and twisted plans, forcing Chuuya to go along with them whether he knew about it or not (and most often times, it’s the latter), Chuuya himself couldn’t always see why Dazai was so feared.

He was just…stupid.

Like right now.

Chuuya was staring Dazai down, whose face was covered with that iconic Suicide Handbook he somehow always seems to have on his person, sprawled out on the couch of one of the many lounges. He would have looked dead, had it not been for the soft rise and fall of his chest. He was asleep.

Fact still stands, this was Dazai. The kid who barely acts like a kid, something he’s only seen at least two or so times before. He can’t even be completely sure if the other is asleep, he’s very convincing in the ways of deceit after all.

“Oi, Dazai.” Chuuya huffed, hands stuffed in his pockets as he deadpanned. “We’ve got a mission in two hours, get the fuck up already.” He pressed a foot lightly into his partner’s side, not actually having any reason to kick him yet. The inevitable ‘yet’ makes him hold back an exasperated groan of annoyance already.

The other didn’t respond, still deep in (feigning?) exhaustion as light snores hummed from him. Chuuya let out a short growl, pressing a bit harder against his side, shaking the taller as well. “Dazai. Shitty mackerel, I said, get the fuck up!” He spoke a little harsher. And still, nothing, the idiot refused to move.

He huffed, glancing around the empty room. He really didn’t feel like getting into a fight today, if anything, he just wants this done and over with so they could move on and get to the mission. He sat down on the ledge of the couch, the only other place Dazai’s tall frame wasn’t covering, crossing one leg over the other. “Dazai.” He grumbled. “Mackerel, Shitty Dazai, Vagabond, Waste o’ Bandages.”

Not a single one of them got him to respond. Rolling his eyes, Chuuya reaches for Dazai’s book, peeling it off his face. He tried to resist the urge to take a peak at its contents, but ultimately failed, glancing at it for a few moments. Just as freakish as he thought it would be.

But when he finally takes a look at Dazai’s face, he can’t say the same for the boy.

Face scrunched, eyebrows in a tight crease, and a visible frown on (rather delicate) features, he didn’t look at peace, and yet he was still snoring away, mouth slipped open the smallest bit. He was in discomfort, clear as day for anyone to see. Was that why he had the book covering his face? He predicted even his own discomfort, and hid it from the world before it was even in progress of appearing?

Well, that was Dazai. Even many steps ahead of himself. And he knew nobody would disturb him either, with the status of Demon Prodigy, truly a genius of his own being, as much as Chuuya hates to admit it.

So maybe he felt a little pissed that Dazai probably thought it applied to him too.

Chuuya tapped the boy’s face twice, just to ensure that he’s actually asleep and not faking it. And sure enough, not even a twitch came over him. He didn’t exactly like the idea of having to wake up Dazai, but the sooner it’s done the better.

(That was a lie, the face of contorted distraught on Dazai didn’t fit him at all, it was unnerving and, dare he say it but, it worried him…)

He didn’t really think much of how he’d go about waking up Dazai, simply grabbing at his side and squeezing it rapidly, deeming that the safest way to go about it. “Oi, Dazai, get up-” Chuuya hummed, only to stop mid sentence when he heard a slight noise, stopping in his movements.

Was that what he thought it was? It couldn’t have been, it was probably just a little exhale from the touch Dazai’s brain was processing as a response. So hesitantly, he continued squeezing at his side, now letting his other hand join in the fray on the other side.

It didn’t take long for Dazai to start squirming in his sleep, arms curling closer to his chest as Chuuya gazed up at his face, looking for a sign of consciousness. Instead, he saw something different, so different in fact, that his own brain (and heart) seemed to stutter at what he was looking at.

Dazai’s face was growing pink, eyebrows twitching and sleepy exhales getting breathier, hitching a few times as his lips wobbled into something akin to a smile. Chuuya, curious to this odd kind of behavior, started speeding up his touches, almost fascinated by the other’s odd reactions.

He swore the other boy gasped, before sleepy giggles fell from his lips, trembling in place as his squirming became more erratic. Why was he giggling? Was it because of what Chuuya was doing? Was he just susceptible to odd kinds of touch? Was Chuuya’s touch even odd?

In his thoughts, he let his hands wander down to Dazai’s hips, experimentative. However, he jolted harshly when Dazai squealed (he fucking squealed!) loud, awake within an instant and sitting upright.

“Chuuya!” Dazai yelped, batting the other’s hands away. But nope, Chuuya was in his own world, eyes wide and practically sparkling in fascination. He’s never seen a person react like that to touch before, eyes flitting between his hands and Dazai’s face, who was very visibly pouting.

“That’s so mean, Chibi!” Dazai pouted, wiping away the sleep from his eyes as he held back a yawn. “I’m ticklish, idiot.” Chuuya blinked owlishly at that, gradually tilting his head to the side.

What??

“What’s that?” He asked blankly, and now it was Dazai’s turn to blink at him, for once seeming a bit stunned. “You don’t- you don’t know what that is?” Chuuya deadpanned at the Prodigy for that one. “Oh, of course I’d know whatever the fuck that is within the eight years I’ve been alive.” He spat with all the sarcasm he could muster.

Dazai huffed out a laugh, rolling his one visible eye as he scooted back, allowing Chuuya to sit on the couch more comfortably. “What is it?” Chuuya asked, moving closer to Dazai, who promptly ignored his question. “Dazai, what is it? What the fuck is it? Tell me, God damnit!”

The other, at first seemed keen on ignoring him, huffing as he searched for his little Suicide Book. But then he perked up, and Chuuya instantly recognized a certain glint in his eyes.

Maybe…maybe this was a mistake-

“If I show you, will you stop asking, chibikko?” Chuuya blanked for a moment, staring at the other in confusion. Show him? He doesn’t even know what it is, why would Dazai think he’d trust him with that? They even had a mission in like, two hours! He can’t just waste his time doing something to satisfy his curiosity.

“...fine, but make it quick. We got places to be, dumbass.”

But of fucking course, he was too curious for his own good sometimes.

“Great! Thanks for being sooo much more compliant today, Chuuya!” The other growled at him, but stupidly continued to comply when Dazai coaxed him onto his back, albeit hesitantly. “Just so you know, I don’t fucking trust you.” Chuuya scowled, to which Dazai just rolled his eyes, flexing his fingers together.

“Obvious enough, really.” Came Dazai’s reply, only for Chuuya to yelp as Dazai-that stupid lanky mackerel- decided to sit his stupid butt on the other’s thighs. So of course, Chuuya freaked for a second.

“OiOiOi! If this is some stupid sexual thing I swear to GOD-” Dazai shushed him with a hand over his mouth, a pouty look on his face. “Oh hush Chibi! This is essential so I won’t have you kicking me in the face! I don’t want any unnecessary bruises right now.”

…Excuse?

“What the fuck?” He spoke, muffled by Dazai’s hand for a moment before it was removed. “Yes, yes, you’ll understand in a minute, with your little doggy pea brain.” Chuuya tsked, turning his head to the side.

“Now,” Dazai said, a sudden undertone in his voice that had Chuuya snapping back to look at him. But suddenly, skinny fingers found themselves clinging to Chuuya’s sides, and holy shit the spark that followed made him jolt.

“Prepare to be amazed, hatrack.”

And then those fingers started moving.

SWEET FUCK-

Chuuya choked out a strangled noise, and as if he’d been electrocuted by Zeus’ lightning, he began squirming just as Dazai predicted, a feverishly bad urge to laugh taking over his insides. “W-whahahat the fahahack!?” He sputtered, his arms clamping down around his sides as he twisted from side to side.

“I knew it! You are ticklish! You certainly looked so to me.” Dazai spoke triumphantly, skittering scuttle-y fingers all over Chuuya’s sides. The feeling was shocking and unfamiliar, sending horribly tingly sensations to scatter just under his skin, and Chuuya threw his head back.

Now what the fuck were Dazai’s fingers so fast for!? Where the hell did this energy come from, and why in God’s damn name is Chuuya laughing??

The boy tried desperately to clamp his mouth shut, but with all his non-existent experience with something like this, the attempt failed horribly, and he kept laughing, struggling under Dazai’s ministrations.

He could hardly get his arms to stay anywhere but his sides! Each time he tried to move them, Dazai would pinch just somewhere higher and they’d slam back down with vigor. The wobbly smile on Chuuya’s face wasn’t deliberate either, and it was almost embarrassing how wide it was.

Was this what it was? Being ticklish??

Suddenly, he didn’t like the word anymore.

“Chibi’s ticklish! Aaaaw, tickle, tickle, tickle, Chibi-chuu!” Chuuya practically squealed at such nonsensical teasing. It was different from what Dazai’d usually do, so baby-ish and cruel.

“Wahahahahait, Oh my Gohohohod, Dazai!” Chuuya exclaimed through the rapid laughter that forced itself out of his lungs, only to practically squeal when Dazai found his ribs, digging into the inbetweens and leaving him desperately attempting to kick him off.

Which would have worked, normally, if he wasn’t feeling so sapped of energy laying helplessly beneath the lanky asshole. Chuuya guffawed when Dazai’s blunt nails dug into his skin, only two layers of clothes separating bare physical contact, yet they did practically nothing to save his ass.

Chuuya bucked rapidly, and Dazai laughed as he was jostled from where he sat, as if mocking him for acting like a wild bull seeing a red flag. But Chuuya just couldn’t stop, shaking his head as his nose scrunched and his cheeks got hotter, blushing from the extreme exertion he certainly wasn’t prepared for.

Dazai, however, seemed to want to be even more of an embarrassing fish, removing one hand from Chuuya’s ribs and searching for his tie, a grin of pure hilarity on his face.

“It’s gettin’ hot in here, so take off all your clothes~!” He cruelly sang, slipping his tie off with ease as Chuuya’s ears flushed red. What was he even thinking!?

It came to him all too late when Dazai grabbed at his wrists.

He could hardly protest through his laughter, Dazai’s one hand skillful enough to keep him giggling his breath away, unable to wrap his lips around coherent words as his other hand worked to tie his wrist together, right above his head, and tied to arm of the couch, the couch arm which had the same design as a fucking chair.

Fuck furniture designs!

“Nahahahaha!! Dazahahahahai, I’ll k-kihihill you!” Chuuya shrieked, trying fruitlessly at tugging the fabric, which didn’t even budge because of course Dazai had to be good at one-handing tight knots.

“But Chibi! You can’t even touch me at this point. If anything, I’m the one touchy touching youuu~!” If Chuuya had any remaining dignity in him, it was probably gone at that moment.

Oh, also the fact that Dazai ducked his hands under his shirt.

Fuck-

Chuuya practically screamed curses, body vibrating as he choked on screeching laughter, squirming amped up by the ten powers.

“Ohohoho? Someone’s got a ticklish tummy? Aaw, how adorable! Grabbin’ that little tum tum o’ yours, my little doggy~!”

Oh this was humiliating, oh why the hell was he laughing more at those stupid, embarrassing words!?!? Nope nope nope, pride gone, he’s lost everything, this is it for him.

“PLEAHAHAHAHA!! NAHAHAHAHAHA, I CAAAHAHAHAN’T-” Dazai just seemed even more spurred on by Chuuya’s screams-turned-pleas, making stupid kissy noises that one would to a dog. “C’mon puppy! I thought dogs loved tummy rubs?”

He doesn’t wanna know anymore! He knows enough now! Holy shit it’s so much!?

“IHIHIT’S SO BAHAHAD!!! I DOHOHOHON’T WANNA KNOHOW ANYMOHOHOHORE!!!” Dazai laughed at that, his grin of playful maliciousness sending an arrow straight through his heart, the sparkling in his eyes as he watched Chuuya turn to a laughing, begging mess underneath had the smaller shivering, blushing so deeply for a whole other reason.

Dazai’s full attention was on him, poking and pinching and prodding the places that had Chuuya screaming, dipping his finger so indecently into his belly button that caused an embarrassingly high snort to break loose, sweet lips smiling with such cruelty in them.

It made Chuuya’s heart beat at rabbiting speeds, seeing that much genuine emotion.

“Ohohoho, I’m gonna tickle you until you cry, Chibi~!”

Oh God. Oh no. This was the end of him. He wasn’t getting out of this alive-

Chuuya’s head flung so far back he feared he might break his neck, his face hurt just from smiling so much, for so long. Yet the poor teen could do nothing more than take what he had coming for him. He made his own bed, now he has to lay in it.

Because now Dazai was after his tummy and his waist. And that was just too cruel.

The tears came quicker than either of them thought, not that Chuuya even knew he could cry from this, but here he was, tears streaming down his face this way and that because he just couldn’t stop shaking his head.

But oddly enough, no matter how embarrassing this is, Chuuya never truly begged for him to stop. He didn’t even know what he was begging for, repeating mantras of Not there! and Please no! and more and more and more.

And Dazai just seemed to be having too much fun with the advantage he has over Chuuya, even going as far as to nuzzle his face into Chuuya’s neck, and that fluffy brown hair that didn’t usually affect him just seemed so ticklish now.

After that though, Dazai seemed to finally find Chuuya’s limit.

As Chuuya had found it too.

His laughter fell silent after a while, only the remaining snorts and sharp breaths indicating that he was still laughing up a gut. Dazai finally slowed down his touches, much to Chuuya undying relief once he pulled away.

The boy gasped for air desperately, coughing a bit as Dazai giggled at him, seeming wholly satisfied.

“Gosh! That’s quite the stress reliever, don’t you think, Chibi?” Chuuya couldn’t even retort to that, mind feeling floaty as he greedily consumed the air his lungs could give him. Dazai slid off his thighs, and the other curled up into as much of a ball as he could, with the tie still secure around his wrists.

From face to chest, he was flushed an embarrassing red, closing his eyes as the tears began to slow down, still stubbornly clinging to his cheeks and face as he felt the fabric being shuffled about.

Once it fell gracelessly from his wrists, he brought them quickly down to his body, something in him instinctively rubbing at the still electrifying tingly parts where Dazai’s stupid fishy hands got to him, beginning to numb those unforgiving sensations from his skin.

Thank God it’s over! He actually thought he might die there…

“Goodness, Chuuya! You look so worn out! What happened, we haven’t even gone on that mission yet?”

The absolutely appalled expression that framed Chuuya’s face as he stared back at Dazai had the other cracking a smile.

“What? What’s wrong? Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong, huh? C’mon chibi, you can tell your reliable partner! I promise I won’t tickle you again-” The boy says, as he reaches to tickle him again.

Safe to say, Chuuya stayed on the ceiling that day.

[tiniedemon]

— ♡

superposition

part two

— ♡

cw — implied postpartum depression

the ride home from the hospital was smooth, kyle anxiously gripping the wheel as you gripped the door tightly. he was continuously shooting glances in the rear view mirror while you repeatedly swiveled your head to look into the back seat.

“this is so nerve wracking,” kyle breathed as he carefully angled the car into a turning lane. you laughed humorlessly with a vigorous nod, wide eyes shooting to look at kyle’s red and sweaty face.

“i’m just thankful the baby hasn’t woken up,” you whispered in return, eyeing your newborn’s car seat. the car pulled into the driveway and you could finally breathe freely, hastily pulling yourself out of the car. the action hurt between your legs, but the adrenaline of your mother’s instincts was enough to keep you going. you gripped the handle of the car seat and carefully pulled it from the car, gazing down at the red haired baby buckled into it. he was already looking at you, eyes droopy and lips covered in slobber.

“he’s awake,” you called softly to kyle as he grabbed the backpack you’d taken to the hospital from the trunk. he sighed as he eyed the small sedan making its way towards your house, his mother’s face visible through the windshield. she parked along the curb and emerged from the car almost immediately after turning it off. sheila had been an absolute angel throughout your entire pregnancy, being the only person aside from kyle that you allowed in the delivery room.

“how’s my grandbaby?” she inquired as she cooed at the baby. kyle rolled his eyes, bags hanging beneath him from lack of sleep.

“you just saw him at the hospital, ma. he’s still fine,” he grumbled. you couldn’t help the exhausted chuckle that fell from your lips at sheila’s annoyed face.

“take your cranky ass to bed,” sheila snapped back, a scowl on her freckled face. as if on cue, you shared a yawn with your husband, exhaustion hitting you like a train.

“if anyone needs sleep, it’s y/n,” he murmured, eyes concerned as he looked at the dark circles beneath your eyes and the paleness of your skin. you gave a small smile and waved him off, starting your journey to the front door. kyle and sheila followed behind you, kyle jogging to open the door before you could get to it. you thanked him softly and patted his chest as you passed, carefully angling the car seat in your arms through the door space.

“i think it’s a good idea to go to bed,” you grumbled as you set the carrier on the couch. sheila sat beside it and helped you pull your baby out, immediately taking him in her arms. kyle tossed an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to the side of your head, guiding you towards your shared bedroom. you didn’t fight, already feeling the droop of your eyelids and the urge to cry from how exhausted you were.

“baby, it’s time for you to sleep,” he whispered as the two of you slipped into bed. you nodded, lips wobbling and tears falling. you were just so tired from the stress of having a newborn, fighting the urge to punch kyle in the face from how irritated you were.

“i’m so sorry,” you sobbed out, and kyle simply embraced you as you cried. you couldn’t help the urge to either hurt him or yourself, your mind drained and warped from days without sleep.

“it’s alright, love. you’re alright,” he soothed. “it’s normal to not feel okay after childbirth. your hormones are just out of balance. it has absolutely nothing to do with you.”

“i know, ky. i just want to hurt you and i feel so shitty for it,” you whispered through silent sobs. kyle shushed you, his hands rubbing your back as you cried into his chest. despite the unwarranted anger you were boiling with, you found it in yourself to be thankful. kyle truly had been a saint through the entire process, letting you take all of your anger out on him through your entire labor and during the aftermath.

“it’s alright, my love. it’s not your fault. i’m always going to be here regardless,” he whispered into your ear, peppering your cheekbone with soft kisses. you sniffled as your tears finally came to a halt, clutching onto his shirt so tightly your knuckles turned white.

kyle held you through the long rant you whispered to him and through your sleep, his arms still wrapped around you once you’d woken up the next morning. you felt warm, despite the baby screaming downstairs and sheila’s soft lullabies carrying up the stairs, because at least you had your husband.

“i love you,” he murmured, his eyes gentle in the light of the early morning. you smiled softly at him and held his face in your hands, gazing into the ocean of green that regarded you so kindly. despite your hysterics and your cruelty, kyle stood by your side, and that alone was enough to get you through the rest of your day.

masterlist

[riken-leather-co]

Bapzo Propaganda | Day 15 & 16 |

Baptiste was well aware that he was a medic. Which meant that he was expected to care for and watch out for others, himself included. He’d very well seen what could happen if one didn’t tend to certain wounds right away. Infection, removal of a limb, incurable side effects, and most importantly, death. But, he was also aware of exceptions. Exceptions that made it valid to delay the caretaking of a wound. Sometimes there were cases where you just had to slap a shitty bandage on it and send someone on their way. He didn’t like it, but it happened.

This was not one of those cases, and yet he’d done it anyway. Baptiste reasoned that, had it been anyone else, he would not have risked it. But, Baptiste knew his own limits and what he could and could not do. So, in the midst of battle with bullets coming down, he’d done some risky quick stitches and kept fighting. In his defense, he fully intended to fix it when they arrived at base. Everyone was a little bloody, sure, but they all lived. Baptiste was the only one that had gained any truly bad injuries, unbeknownst to the others.

“Good work loves!” Tracer chirped, zipping around and giving everyone a clap on the back.

“Right back at you,” Baptiste said. If anyone noticed the strain in his grin as Tracer jostled him, no one said anything. He fought the urge to cradle his side - pain pulsating through his side rhythmically.

As quickly and carefully as he could without looking suspicious, he split up from the others. It was difficult. He’d made a habit of doing the rounds and ensuring everyone was in tip top shape, cracking a joke here or there as a treat. The jokes fell a little flat today but thankfully no one called him out on it. The second his room door slid shut behind him he rid himself of his gear. Baptiste grimaced at the blood soaking through his side, clenching his eyes shut as a headache began to make itself known. Did Baptiste even take the bullet out before stitching it up? He couldn’t remember. In the end, it didn’t matter. The second he’d taken his shirt off and dabbed up some of the blood, there was a knock on his door.

“A little -” he hissed under his breath. “Busy here! Leave a message!”

“Is everything well, Baptiste?”

Baptiste paused when he heard Hanzo’s voice through the door. Logically, his wound was very much more important. But, Baptiste was a weak man to certain emotions, namely any that Hanzo caused him to feel. Against any better judgment, he slapped a gauze on his wound, pulled on a new shirt, and quickly opened the door.

“What’s up?”

“Are you well?”

“I should be asking you that,” Baptiste said. His chest ached as he eyed Hanzo. There were tell tale signs of dark eye bags and an odd tension in his body. “...Bad dream again?”

“...Yes,” Hanzo reluctantly muttered. Still, it touched Baptiste that Hanzo had gotten to this point to confess it to him. How could he turn him away? “I wished to get some fresh air.”

“Then let’s go.” Baptiste stepped out, door shutting behind him. Hanzo led the way while Baptiste lingered just behind him. The hallway slightly moved around him and he breathed in deeply through his nose, willing the nausea away.

They found themselves on the rooftop, one of Hanzo’s favorite places to hide away. Hanzo grabbed his hand and pulled him down to sit on the ledge beside him. He winced - side pulling painfully at the stitches as he shifted to sit down. Once they were both sat, they watched the horizon and breathed together for a moment. Baptiste’s side had faded into a numb sensation which he knew wasn’t a good sign.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Hanzo shook his head and leaned against Baptiste. “Let’s just lay here. Is that alright?”

“Of course.” Baptiste sighed and soaked in the warmth coming from Hanzo. It wasn’t often they got to sit together like this. There was an ever present headache building up behind his eyes, and his body felt like it was running hotter than usual. Still, he didn’t say anything or bring up his concerns. Too busy basking in the moment. That, and his head was feeling like cotton was stuffed in it.

Still, it was as if an ever present calm was fading over him. The pain fading to an ever present ache in the background. It was easy for his eyelids to slide shut and fade into the black pit. When he awoke next it was to the faint beeping of medical equipment and blinding white lights just behind his eyelids. His body had an ever present ache. It was difficult to open his eyes, lashes fluttering as he squinted against the lights.

“You’re a fool.” Is the first thing Baptiste heard. He winced and slowly looked over. Hanzo was glowering at him, arms crossed.

“...I was going to tend to it,” Baptiste muttered, already figuring out where he was and roughly what had happened.

“You’re lucky an infection didn’t set in, Mercy said.” he snapped. He leaned over and pressed a button - calling Mercy into the room.

“I’m sorry.” Baptiste sighed and quickly surrendered. “I didn’t want to worry you when you were already having a tough time.”

“It would have been worse had you died while I was none the wiser.” Hanzo took a deep breath and let it out quickly. Rather than look angry, he looked more tired. “Do not worry me like that again.”

“Okay.” Baptiste reached out and grabbed Hanzo’s hand, squeezing it as Mercy walked into the room.

“You are in big trouble mister.” Mercy said, lightly smacking her clipboard against his head. “You worried us to death, you know.”

“Yes Yes I’m sorry. What’s the situation doc? Am I dying?”

“No, thankfully enough.” She sniffed and pushed up her glasses. Mercy didn’t mention them holding hands. By the time she left after their check ups, Baptiste was left even more exhausted.

Hanzo watched Baptiste’s eyes droop as he fought to stay awake and squeezed his hand. “Sleep. I will not go anywhere.”

“Mh.” Baptiste was quick to listen, drifting asleep once again.

[duncebento]

wanna hear me rant bae

i’m very frustrated with my romantic prospects at the moment. it’s bad enough to be a woman in the world in general because it means you’re always playing a game you didn’t necessarily sign up for in which you almost always lose. but beyond that being a black “woman” means that people project all of this weird random shit onto me, which affected my feeling about romantic interaction from an early age since i didn’t interact with any other black kids until high school. regardless, minus anything on my end what i want from someone else seems so fucking rare— or, i see people who exhibit it, but they’re all around 40, and the prospect of waiting 20 years….it doesn’t seem like something i should have to do, anyway. i just feel romantically wrong. when a man has his arm around my shoulders i feel like i’m pretending to be something i’m not. if i’m not pretending then i can’t escape the feeling that he’s going to collect whatever he needs from my honesty and then go back to someone more feminine, more normal, less monstrous (and not black, lol!) and i sound like a dick saying this but while i think dating black people could be helpful in some ways, i don’t actually have a lot of cultural connection to blackness, given that i grew up only around asian kids (had to fight the urge to write “other” there help) in a fucking country club, and my family are caribbean immigrants. i do love being black but cultural blackness is something i actively participate in, and have only been participating in, again, since high school. there are too many boundaries i operate at the cusp of to not just be a sort of freak to most people. even my queerness is hard to place. i think i’m so cool, but an acquired taste, not something any majority of people could contend with. but it gets difficult as time progresses to truly perceive that i’ve never been treated nicely by men. i know that in refusing to objectify myself i have always alienated myself from romance. and then the virginity, the abandonment issues, the daddy issues all intensify everything. experimentation and trial become impossible because everything is so suffused with meaning. i think that remaining “a virgin” until this point was a mistake, the sort of trick society would play on a woman to keep her knowledge-less. i am in a power imbalance with every man i’m sexually interested in. i think about hiding my inexperience— but how shitty is it to have to do that? to have to shield yourself from your lover? but now it’s too late, anyway, i’m far too easily bruised to attempt to do away with my virginity randomly, which just means my inexperience is stoked for another year, another year. i’m always thinking these days of plath’s poem about virgins like rotting nymphs.

but that’s all big stuff, and i’m after something small, which still seems impossible to find. a man who can contend with me for a month or so, so not an idiot or a conquistador. 20 is a very fucking lonely age to be.

[shdwtouch]

blog updates. (long post ahead orz)

oki ! I'm back from my hiatus, had some time to think about things and reassess my current feelings / standing. currently my anxiety levels are pretty low, but I'm going to be talking to my therapist tomorrow about it + asking my doctor if I could go back on an as-needed anxiety medication since its been so bad lately.

right now the biggest anxiety spike I have is over writing this post heheh but I'm feeling okay, doing my best to keep thinking positive thoughts.

I'm definitely not leaving, but I am gonna try to enact some changes going forward. and, well, fight the urge to remake cuz I know its just my flight instinct. I tend to hide from things that stress me out and make me feel bad, and I know that is a shitty coping mechanism. I know I need to do better for myself if I'm going to survive and grow and become a better person who can manage things and be dependable.

anyway, sorry for the word vomit. time for the planned updates.

first, I will be going partially queue based. I've been managing to keep my queue stocked, I hope I'll be able to continue to do so. answered drafts will potentially be put into my queue, depending; I may still post them as I do them. asks will be posted as normal. I will still be posting as normal & occasionally reblogging content as well. in general, I just want to vary what I'm putting into my queue.

next, with the above in mind, if me posting ooc as primary activity is going to be a problem, please unfollow / block me. this has been an issue for some in the past, and while I don't begrudge people their preferences I have always run my blogs in this way. I post a lot of ooc, whether its personal stuff, me discussing meta, or whatever else. if that is a problem then you are encouraged to leave.

I refuse to guilt myself for not being active ic, and I would hope as my roleplay partners & friends folks would respect how I run my blog and value me as a friend & person over what I can provide in terms of ic engagement and content. I feel like a broken record at this point, but I am slow and post a lot of ooc. this isn't new ! I have this stated in multiple places, it should not be a surprise to anyone !

next, another recurring mention is that I am forgetful as fuck. going forward I will be blocking blogs that I have followed and did not follow me back. why ? because every day I see blogs on my dash, look at them, and wonder... have I followed this blog before, or have I just seen them on my dash a lot ? its nothing personal, but I just. don't want to deal with the anxiety of "have I followed this person before, didn't get followed back, unfollowed them cuz they are mutual exclusive, and if I follow them again now are they gonna think I'm being pushy ?"

in this age of mutual exclusivity it just. isn't worth the stress to me. part of why I hate being mutual exclusive, tbh. frankly, I would think it A+ if folks just. blocked me if they didn't want to interact with me / if they are mutual exclusive and don't intend to follow back. I'm learning to cope with it, truly. like. I know I shouldn't assume people block me for a bad reason or cuz I made a bad impression; I frequently state that people should block to curate their space, not just cuz folks are toxic or whatever. I even assure that I block for primarily benign reasons, like this, so why should I jump to conclusions about why people block me ? why should I care ?

next up, speaking of blocking. I recently had a series of experiences that just. left me feeling really shitty. in general, I do my best to be a good, empathetic person. I value transparency and open communication, and if there is a problem I want to resolve it with the best interest of everyone involved. I do my best, truly. but. these experiences have made me realize that I... waste a lot of energy being the best person I can, worrying and working towards conflict resolution while the other party just. does not care, or doesn't respect / value me enough to try for a solution.

for the sake of my mental health and self-esteem... going forward, if I feel like I am being disrespected, or the vibes or off, or I just. don't see anything coming of my attempts... I am not going to keep expending my time or energy. as much as it literally fucking pains me (I mean seriously, I don't want to do this, because I want to give the benefit of the doubt and be a good person, I want to fix problems, not let them lie. I don't want to turn my back on being open for communication and resolution.), I've made the decision to begin (attempting, at least) to block folks who I feel have crossed my boundaries, disrespected me, treated me or others poorly, or have failed to behave in a civil, adult, and mature fashion.

okay, now just a couple brief points:

I'm working on making muse specific ask memes / interaction prompts. I proposed this idea a longass time ago but never did anything with it, but I hope it will help facilitate interactions, provide some inspiration for folks at the very least a starting point. they'll be generic but specific to my muses, and always available.

I will be posting an interest track / permission post, which will be required to interact going forward. kinda like a mains call, but it'll basically just be a like if you're okay with [insert info on how I run my blog] + are okay with my contacting you ooc, sending asks, etc + commenting with whether you're interested in shade or kaey or both. I'll link it in my rules and it'll, hopefully, provide me with the solid verification my silly little anxious brain needs to not feel like a bother.

I will be conducting another inbox + draft clear out; anything deleted from my drafts will be listed in a post with a ping so my partners are aware !

I will be dropping all current inbox, plotting, and shipping calls because, well, I lose track of them so easily... and then I get nervous that its been too long, so yeah. I have a to-do list now tho ! and I hope that will help me keep track of things, DMs specifically, cuz I... know I suck at keeping up with those, especially in regards to plotting and discussions. my sincerest apologies to everyone, I assure you it is not personal and literally just me being forgetful and nervous heheh

all calls will be limited to 2-4 going forward, so I don''t overwhelm myself. some will be first come first serve, others will be at my discretion.

I will be updating / expanding both kaeys lore and shades modern universes, with the intention of eventually moving shade towards becoming fandomless. I love her content for bg3 but as a whole I just. don't feel very good in the bg3 rpc ?? I feel like an outsider and the vibe just. isn't vibing for me like it once did. again, this is something I am working towards, not something that will be changing right away. and when/if it does happen, she will keep her bg3 universes. as far as kaey goes, I'm gong to try to integrate his different universes a big more. uwu; again. maybe this time I will get the puzzle pieces to fit, but we'll see.

working on a new blog for lore development / rp projects. you can preview the proof of concept at puffiary, if you're interested. I'll also be working more on my multi ! myk will potentially be moving to my mutli, or the new project blog, but I'm not certain yet. dunerook will be keeping her own blog, for now.

anyway. those are my thoughts and feelings regarding stuff. sorry for the long ass post, I didn't intend for it to be like this but ya'll also know me. I can't keep things short and simple to save my life lmao

I will be updating my rules with some of this, but in general the vibe ya'll should get from this post is that I am taking steps forward, but I'm going slow. I have plans and intentions to improve stuff. good things are coming, I'm manifesting it now. but. I also just. want to feel safe and comfy again. that is my first priority.

anyway. thanks for reading this whole thing. sending love !!

[cfr749]

Chenford + stop fighting how you feel

This has been more miserable than Lucy could have ever imagined.

For as much of a well-oiled machine as they are on patrol, they have been the complete opposite undercover.

Misreading each other’s signals and fumbling their cover stories and constantly disagreeing on their next move.

And so they are here, facing off in their seedy hotel room with its dingy walls and cruddy carpet, knowing that if they can’t get it together they could very well end up getting each other killed.

“You’re the one who got us into this; let’s hear your bright idea on how to fix this.”

Lucy sighs — it’s the same combative, bristly, irritated tone that he’s been using far too much with her lately. Punctuated with an eye roll or a scoff or a sneer.

And she truly doesn’t understand how they’ve gotten here. So far apart and so out of sync.

This is a man she cares for deeply, that she trusts with her life without an instant of hesitation, that can make her feel on top of the world with just an appreciative smile or a few kind words.

But there hasn’t been much of that in a very long time.

Not since she got him roped into this undercover thing. Not since they kissed. Not since an assignment that was supposed to be a few days turned in to a few weeks turned into a few months.

Part of her is ready to snap — ready to serve his attitude right back to him.

But she’s so tired. And so confused. And so damn sad.

Because after that stupid kiss, well, the niggling idea that she might have feelings that were more than friendly toward Tim started to feel more like a certainty than a possibility.

It had crept up on her really. How she had just gradually wanted to be near him, be with him, be closer to him more and more over time.

How he had somehow become her person without her even realizing it — the first person she wanted to talk to when she was upset. Or happy. Or just because.

And once she opened her eyes, she couldn’t unsee it. Couldn’t unsee all of the indications that maybe… maybe he felt it too.

But then Tim had had to cancel his trip to Hawaii with Ashley because he was stuck undercover here with her instead. And he hadn’t bothered to hide how he felt about that, how much he hated this right from the start.

And it hurts to think that the very thing she had only just begun to see is already starting to fade.

Because she doesn’t want to get closer to this version of him. She doesn’t want to spend her days and nights with him. She doesn’t want to be with him at all.

She feels the sudden urge to cry and quickly turns away, blinking rapidly to ebb the flow. She doesn’t want him to know how much he’s hurting her, the impact he is having on her, because that’s a vulnerability he’s failed to earn. Not in a long while, anyway.

She hugs herself. It’s been so damn long since she’s had a hug. And then takes a deep breath, pulling herself back together like she always does.

She turns back to face Tim who is still waiting for her response, arms crossed over his chest as he leans back against the edge of the shitty desk with the peeling orange paint.

Lucy shrugs. “I don’t know. Obviously, this isn’t working. I think we should work out some way for you to leave and for me to stay.”

Tim stares at her as if she has sprouted an extra head. “Are you actually serious right now?”

Lucy flinches, hating how his tone implies she’s said one of the stupidest things on earth. She’s proud of how steady her voice is when she responds. “I am, actually. It’ll be safer for us both if there’s only one of us here since we clearly aren’t on the same page, and you clearly never wanted to be here to begin with so…”

“That’s it? That’s your idea? That is the most idiotic —“

And she cannot take another second of it, she’s at the end of her rope.

“Stop,” she begs quietly.

And he does. He blinks in surprise at the request and then stares at her, seems to finally be seeing her for the first time in a very long time. Seems to be remembering that she isn’t this dumb persona they’ve concocted, that she’s Lucy — his Lucy. A woman that he cares about and values and maybe even loves.

“Lucy…” and it’s the first time he’s said her name in weeks, maybe months.

“I’m sorry, Tim. I’m sorry I got you into this. I’m sorry we kissed. I’m sorry we’re still stuck here.”

Something flickers in his gaze and he opens his mouth, but Lucy hurries to finish, “I just don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to fight. And I don’t want you to be mad at me all of the time.”

He swallows and nods. Doesn’t even attempt to deny it.

And she’s not sure if that’s better or worse.

She meets his gaze. “So yeah, I guess—” her voice breaks as she says words she never thought she’d be saying to one of her favorite people in this world. “I guess I’d rather do this without you,” she finally manages.

His face falls as he looks away, running a hand back through his hair in frustration and looking for a moment like he is in actual pain.

“And if I don’t want you to do it without me?” he asks as he finally meets her eyes again.

Lucy barks a mirthless laugh, “Could’ve fooled me.”

“You’re my partner. I’m not leaving you. That’s not — it’s not how this is supposed to work.”

“And this is how it’s supposed to work?”

Tim sighs and shakes his head miserably. “How did we get here?”

Lucy swallows and starts to say the words she has been too scared to say since that morning after their kiss in the parking lot. “Maybe if — maybe if you’d just…”

“Maybe if I’d just what, Lucy?”

“Stop fighting how you feel,” she finishes, breath catching in her throat as she puts what has been swirling between them for far too long out in the open.

“I have feelings for you. No — more than that, I think I’m in love with you. I know you know that. And I know that’s why you’ve been pushing me away. But I think — I think if you’d just be honest with yourself — I think you have feelings for me, too. That maybe you’re in love with me, too.”

Tim shakes his head, eyes wide with surprise and disbelief. “Lucy — I’m your boss. I was your training officer. We’re knee deep in the middle of an undercover operation. I’m in a relationship. You’re in a relationship. There are a million reasons we cannot be having this conversation right now.”

She sighs. A part of her had known it would be like this. As soon as she had finally allowed herself to acknowledge her feelings, she had just known it would be a million times harder for Tim. That he’d resist it with everything he had because of his dumb code, because of how protective he is of her, because this wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with one of his boots.

Just like she wasn’t supposed to fall in love with her sergeant.

It’s the reason she’d shied away from this conversation so many times before, but enough is enough.

“Are you being serious right now?” The tears are burning at the backs of her eyes again.

“What do you want me to say, Lucy?”

Her emotion wells and she almost chokes on it. “Anything, Tim. Anything so that I’m not out here by myself. Anything so I know you still care about me. Anything so that every day we spend here doesn’t make me fall that much more out of love with you.”

He looks as though she’s punched him in the gut.

And when he simply turns to leave without another word, Lucy can’t even say she’s surprised. She had known it would be like this.

But she had also known that if she didn’t rip the bandage for him, it would never have come off.

It takes a couple of hours, and that is honestly what surprises her most. She knows this man. She knew he would eventually get his head out of his ass, but had expected it might be days or even weeks of denial.

He slides into the bed behind her instead of onto the crappy air mattress on the floor. She turns to face him, and he tugs her into his arms, wrapping her up into a hug that could not be more overdue.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly.

“I know,” she mumbles into his chest.

“I don’t know how to do this — believe it or not, I don’t make a habit of falling for my boots,” he admits.

“I know.”

“I haven’t been handling this well. No — more than that, I’ve been a dick.”

“I know.” Lucy nods, laughing through her tears at his riff on her love confession.

He smiles miserably, “Is there anything you don’t already know?”

She pulls back and tilts her head so she can meet his stormy, conflicted blue eyes.

“I don’t know how to do this either, but I know that you’ll help me figure it out. Now that you’re done being a jackass, anyway.”

He gazes back at her for a few moments before tightening his hold and pressing his lips to her forehead.

“You’re too important to me to not get this right, Lucy. We’ve got to get this stupid op done and get home so we can figure this all out…”

“I know.”

He chuckles softly, “How long have you been waiting for me to catch up?”

“Long enough to want to lock you in this horrible hotel room and throw away the key.”

He sucks air between his teeth, “That long, huh?”

“Long enough to make me want to dunk your toothbrush in the toilet.”

His eyes narrow with suspicion.

“Long enough to want to rearrange all of your color-coded boxers.”

“All right Lucy, I think I’ve got it.”

“Long enough to —“

He presses his finger to her lips.

“I think I love you too, Lucy,” he finally says, not because either of them have any idea what they are doing or because either of them are quite ready to move forward just yet, but because she’s waited long enough.

***

Well, anon, you’ve certainly waited long enough for this, so I hope it was worth the wait.

Thank you for a lovely ask ❤️❤️❤️

[themoonandvenuslovechild]

Okay okay, let’s start easy. My first idea:

Druig, Makkari and Reader for once having a calm and quiet day without deviants or lousy parties. They stray away from the others and go do something like stargaze if it’s night or sitting on a cliff to watch over the place, anyway, Kari and reader are listening to Druig rant about how it kills him to not interfere when he could stop all violence so to help him get out of his head they both start making plans to where they will go once they finish the mission or what they will do until Druig joins and they just keep on planning the perfect life they would like to have. Just the three of them, no missions, no fights, no human wars.

Just a cute moment 🥰

THIS IS SO CUTE YES!

Perfect Life with His Perfect Girls 

TW// Ikarus ruining things by being a bitch, tooth-rotting fluff like you could definitely get a mouth full of cavities from this, my shitty writing 

Pairing: Drukkari x Reader

   The civilization was bustling as the party was now in full-swing. Drinks were being poured, fights broke out, music played, and all of the Eternals were taking part in the celebration.

   All of the Eternals except for Druig. Druig stood leaned against a wall as he watched Makkari and you dance. He chuckled to himself as Makkari spun you in circles and you laughed loudly, the sound floating through the air and into his ears. He looked at the two of you with only love, you were his girls. 

   Then he heard the yelling. Druig’s body spun away from the two of you, his eyes meeting the scene of a group of men beginning to fight. He tried to fight off the urge to interfere, not wanting Ajak to scold him, or worse, get into a fight with Ikarus that would be sure to cause a spectacle. He couldn’t quite help himself though. So, Druig used his powers to interfere in the human conflict, leading the groups away from each other and creating a peace in the area. 

   Druig felt at peace then, the small and painful tugging at his heart having left him. The peace never lasted quite long enough as Druig caught Ikarus striding towards him, obviously getting ready to begin a fight. In all honesty, Druig was tired. He was tired of fighting with Ikarus and of being scolded by Ajak like he was a child. Most of all, he was tired of not being able to truly help the humans. Druig would deny it as much as he could, but he had a place in his heart for humanity, they were important to him. 

   His feet carried him in the opposite way, weaving him through the crowd until Ikarus was lost between the people and Druig was on the outskirts of the civilization they were currently settled in. He had hoped he’d get time alone to cool down and find his way back to the celebrations, but the longer he sat under the stars in the warm night air, the more angry he became. After all, the team was sent here to protect the humans and that’s what he was doing.

   Druig was so lost in thought he didn’t notice the arrival of his two lovers until Makkari’s small hand fell on his shoulder, causing him to jump a little. Her eyes were bright as they looked into his and she found her way on the ground next to him. 

   “You alright?” She had a questioning look, one of her brows raised as she signed it to him. 

   “I’m fine, yes.” 

   That’s when your form emerged from the shadows, your bare feet being tickled by the grass you stood on. “You’re a horrible liar. Y’know that right, Dru?” 

   He sighs, hanging his head as the stress of everything rolls through his body, consuming him whole. “I just want to help them. That is exactly what Arishem sent us here to do, to protect the humans. That is what I’ve been doing. I get scolded by Ajak or I argue with Ikarus or get pity looks from the others because I want to make their lives better. I don’t understand. If we’re supposed to help, why aren’t we allowed to protect them from themselves?”

   There’s a silence as you and Makkari take in his words, both processing everything he’s just confessed, and as the words finally settle in your heads, Druig speaks again, his hands signing the words with them as always. 

   “Sometimes I wonder if I should just start my own civilization to help them. I wonder if it would be better if I were to stray from the team.” 

   “Maybe you can do that once we have destroyed the last of the Deviants?” Makkari suggests. 

   “I don’t even know where I’d go.” 

   “Let’s make the plan together, then,” you suggest. “We can plan out our home for when everything is done and over with. The three of us can live somewhere peaceful together... if you want ‘Kari and I there.” 

   “Of course I do.” 

   Makkari’s eyes light up and she starts speedily signing. “We could find some kind of forest and set up a place to live in the middle of it! It would be secluded, but there would always be a place to explore! We could farm our own crops, and build our own homes, and craft our own things. Every day would be something new and it would be perfect for all three of us!”  

   Druig nods, Makkari’s ideas forming an image in his mind. “A little commune. We could have a dining hall, and everyone would have their own job to be useful.” 

   “That sounds lovely,” you reply. 

   Druig turns to you, his eyes sparkling in curiosity. “Say what you’re wanting to say, m’dear. I know something is on the tip of your tongue.” 

   “Can we find somewhere close to a lake? So that we could swim in it? And maybe we could build a treehouse?” 

   “Yes, anything the two of you want.” 

   “It would be ours. A peaceful place for the three of us.” 

   You scrunch your nose at Makkari and smile. “Are you sure you wouldn’t get reckless, our adventerous speedster?” 

   “Never with the two of you around.” 

   “It’s settled then,” you say to Druig. “We’ll find a beautiful forest to build our community in.” You hesitate for a second, your mind swirling with ideas. “Now we just have to figure out what to name it!”    Both of your lovers laugh at your enthusiasm, and Druig pulls you and Makkari closer. He didn’t know he could be so lucky as to have two gorgeous people by his side that would always compromise to make him happy, and he knew he’d love the both of you until the end of time. 

[finelinevogue]

Can you do something where Y/N is sick and Harry has to take care of her please?

i actually had written something similar to this before so i present you a lengthy blurb;

You were pretty sure if you got invited in to hell it would feel something like this.

Hot. Sticky. But chilled.

You had come down with a concerningly high temperature. Along with the added luxuries of a deafening headache, cold sweats and an upset tummy. Your body was burning all over, as if it had just been freshly cooked in the oven but you felt colder than ice. It was a confusing juxtaposition, but there it was.

You'd called Harry, since he was in the studio recording his new music and asked him to come home early. You didn't even get to the reasoning of why he should come home before he hung up, telling you he was already vacating the premises. You hated to be that needy girlfriend who had to call about nearly everything, but Harry loved it more than anything. He loved the fact that you needed him. It gave him purpose, apparently .

You couldn't work out whether you regretted asking him to come home, or whether it was a blessing. It was a very fine line.

It was a blessing because, he looked after you like a mother would her child and made sure he stood by your side any time you found yourself lurched over a toilet. He made you chicken soup from scratch and even tested it to make sure it wasn't too hot, or salty - despite being a vegetarian himself. He even made you honey and lemon tea, which he had to run to the store for the honey. When you say run, you mean run. He didn't want to leave you alone at all, so he put on his running shoes and sprinted to the shop and back. However, it was a slight regret because of how fussy he was over you. He loved it to bits - nursing to your every need.

You truly believed you didn't deserve Harry. He was just too kind and pure for his own good. You were unarguably lucky. Laying on what felt like your death bed, didn't feel so lucky though.

It was now 10 pm and you could hear Harry turning on the alarm for downstairs, the loud beeping noise preventing you from sleep. That's all you'd done all day. Sleep. You thought it'd be more magical than it was. It was just uncomfortable though, because of how cold and hot you were.

Your much better looking other half trudged through the bedroom door within a minute of the alarm going off. He was only wearing checkered pyjama bottoms and a white t-shirt and yet he made it look like Gucci Runway 2021.

The jingling of keys signalled Charlie was also present. Charlie was your 2 year old Golden Retriever. He was beautiful. When you and Harry has moved in together 2 years ago you'd managed to persuade him to get a dog. Within a few weeks of moving in you had a 5 month old puppy running around your house. He was your best friend, no doubt about it. He was also ridiculously photogenic.

"Hey Chaz!" You cooed as Charlie walked over to your side of the bed, where you were snuggling down under the sheets. You reached out your hand to give him some loving and attention. You could tell by the small smile and sparkling eyes that he was one happy boy.

"Alright, buddy. Let's leave mum alone." Harry came behind Charlie to manoeuvre him into his bed, which was in the corner of the room. It was more like a big cushion. He started to whine after being forced to leave you - having not seeing you all day. Harry was strict in keeping him downstairs so not to disturb you whilst you were sleeping.

"H it's alright, let him on the bed. He can curl up on my feet." You sympathised with Charlie, as you always did, hating to hear or see him upset. Harry was like the 'bad-cop' when it came to parenting Charlie, because you were too sweet to say no to him.

"You're one spoilt boy, aren’t you?" Harry messed around with Charlie, before telling him he could get up on the bed to see you. Charlie leapt on the bed and wandered over to give you all the kisses he could, before Harry came to calm him down - as you really didn't have the strength.

"I missed you too, Chaz." You quietly laughed, not wanting to set your headache off even more.

"You gonna let me kiss mum now?" Harry rhetorically asked, but as he came over to you Charlie laid down on you so your face was buried underneath his body. You could feel him panting with his adorable tongue out above you, as he hid you from Harry.

"Someone's jealous."

"Feeling like a bloody third wheel over here." Harry tutted and you laughed until you got hot with the movement.

"Harry? Can you move him please?" You whined as you tried to shuffle around.

"Okay Chaz. Let's let mum get some sleep, alright?" Charlie is slowly removed from you and ends up curled on top of your feet, keeping them warm for you.

Harry slipped into the covers and shuffled his way over to you, putting the back of his hand over your forehead and hissing quietly at the simple touch.

"Baby you're so hot." Harry complained.

"I know." You teased with a wink at him, taking his worry out of context and turning it into a flirting compliment.

"Oh piss off!" He chuckled and wrapped an arm around your waist to bring you closer. "What am I going to do with you, baby?" Harry then planted only a few delicate kisses to your lips - not wanting to overwork you and your tired body.

••••

You woke up with drowsy eyes to find you're in bed alone.

Your throat was incredibly dry and your whole body was sticky from sweat. Your pyjamas were damp and your face looked like it'd just been drowned in a rainstorm. It was disgusting. Still, you brought the duvet up to cover yourself more, as you let out a dramatic shiver. Why was it so cold?

Mixed into the background noise you could hear the cheering of crowds and it really confused you, until you looked at the wall and noticed the football was playing on re-run on the TV. Manchester United Vs Manchester City. You hated that you knew that just from their football uniforms, but that's what you get for living with a football-crazed boyfriend.

You noticed Harry emerge from the bathroom, a washing up bowl in his arms. He came and sat down in bed, the bucket of water to his side. "What are you doing?" You quietly asked, peering up at him through tired eyes.

"Oi, you're meant to be sleep y’minx." Harry told you off.

"I can't. I'm too uncomfortable. I'm hot, but i'm cold. I also find it hard to sleep without you next to me." You huffed out in annoyance.

"My poorly baby." He leant down to kiss your forehead, "c’mere, baby." He urged.

He helped you move, seeing as your body was really weak, so you could lay down against Harry’s body. He was sat up against the headboard as you nestled down between his legs, your back to his front. It was a lot more comfortable than before - probably because Harry was closer to you. Charlie noticed the disturbance and waited for you to stop moving around, before maintaining the job of guarding your feet.

Once he was happy in his position he fell asleep again, making you jealous of his ability to do that. Especially now.

"Why's the football on?" You asked, motioning towards the TV.

"Had to keep myself awake somehow." He explained, but it only made you more confused.

"Why?"

"So I can take care of you, y’muppet." His words actually melted your heart - more than chocolate could melt on your forehead right now.

After you'd settled, Harry reached into the bucket and drained out a cloth. He made sure all the excess water was cleared before moving it away from the bucket. You hummed in appreciation when he placed it against your forehead, rotating it to the back of your neck also in order to relax and cool you. It made you realise just how hot you were.

"I think i'm dying, Harry." You groaned as the nausea came over you again. Harry kept a firm hold of the cloth on your forehead, dabbing gently and careful to not let any water drip down into your eyes.

"No you're not, baby." Harry gave you a light-hearted laugh.

"Well, living shouldn't feel as shitty as this H." You grumbled, not appreciating his lack of understanding.

“Then just let me take you to the chuffing hospital!" He exclaimed, making Charlie stir slightly.

Harry had been demanding you go to the hospital all day and all evening, but you were too stubborn to go. That, and you were terrified of hospitals - more terrified of needles and blood than anything else. However, you were starting to reach the point where you were giving in to his request, though. It was becoming unbearable to sleep and harder to breathe. You were worried for yourself.

"I don't like it." You pouted like a child, as Harry wrung the cloth through the fresh water again.

"I don't care whether you like it or not, Y/N, I really think we should go. More like need." Harry insisted and you could tell he wasn’t giving up without a fight. You didn’t want that either.

You hated how he was right.

It was only going to get worse from here, and you didn't really want to be alive when that was going you happen, so going to the hospital to get checked over and drugged up seemed like the best option to go for. The more sensible option.

"Fine." You finally accepted, Harry slinking his arms tight around your waist after discarding the cloth in to the bucket. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck and planted an abundance of kisses there, your skin burning just to the touch.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." He repeated in-between kisses.

•••••

It took 20 minutes to get in to the car. 20 minutes.

All because Charlie was reluctant to letting you get up and go. So Harry had to dress you into a more appropriate attire, with a dog sat on your lower body. It was then half an hour later that you were in the hospital.

The hospital was quiet at this time of night and for that you were grateful. It was obviously a night where little numbers of people were doing silly things to get themselves hurt. There was the odd patient for a minor cut injury and there were a couple of people in for burns. There was even a woman in because she accidentally superglued her hand to a bottle of superglue - ironic, but painful.

You sat patiently on Harrys lap, waiting for someone to escort you to a cubicle. You were freezing cold, to the point where your teeth were chattering - your outside body was giving off the opposite temperature. You tried to get as close to Harry's warmth as possible, pushing your body against his.

"You're alright baby." Harry shushed you, as you let out a small tremble.

"If I do die—"

"Which you won't." Harry chuckled.

"I know, but if I did I want you to know that I love you." You told him. Even though he's heard you say it a million times before, it still made his heart flutter as you spoke each word.

"I love you, baby." He kissed the side of your head. "But you're going to be just fine, so no more talking about you dying okay?"

"Why? It's only a natural thing." You pointed out.

"Sure, but I don't want to think of a world without my girl living in it. So zip it before I make you."

You never thought of dying as a world without Harry before now and it wasn't the time to start thinking about it either. It was a horrible thought and you understood why Harry didn't want you speak about it. That world would be so dark and empty and you hated thinking about it.

Harry was called to the front desk to fill in some forms for you, since your hands were too cold and shaky to do it for yourself. He accidentally wrote 'Styles' as your second name, before realising his mistake and scribbling it out.

“Shit.” Harry went red in the face and chuckled over his silly mistake. His hand was shaky and you smiled at how he got so flustered over something so simple. You rested your hand on top of his, bringing his attention to you.

“One day.” You told him and he leaned to give you a kiss on the lips. You couldn’t help but feel like his lips were a future promise to make sure he wouldn’t have to scribble out his second name the next time it was written next to yours.

The doctor saw you shortly afterwards and you thanked your lucky stars that there was no injections or removal of any blood involved, Harry sticking with you the whole time. Turns out you were suffering from a moderate fever, but the doctor said with good rest it should pass. The doctor had given Harry permission to make a big fuss over you - explaining how he was going to love it and you were going to hate it - and to make sure to come back with even the slightest worsen of the fever. You got given a prescription list of various medications that you'd need to take over the next week or so. After collecting the drugs, you were back in the car on the way home.

"Told you you weren't going to die." Harry smiled, happy to have you still by his side, whilst holding your hand over the gear console.

"Unfortunate for you, I guess."

"Will you shut you, y’bloody nuisance. You know I can't do life without you, Y/N." He spoke softly, squeezing your hand tighter to assure you that he's going nowhere.

"Same here." You smile at him and he smirks back at you with his dimple-loving smile.

"You’ll always be it for me, baby." Harry speaks, before you drift back off to sleep.

Happily.

[hyunjilicious]

I just read what is and what should never be and it was PHENOMENAL! I love everything you write anyway so I was wondering if you could do a small one where Bucky is alone and depressed and he calls yn because he feels lost and she is just there for him? No worries if you can't! I love you anyway 💕

Omg!! You’re too sweet! I really wanted to do this one justice, but I suck at angst... I love you too!! and I’m sorry if this sucks!

Summary: after the events of Endgame, you and Bucky part ways. Even though you haven’t spoken in months, when he needs you, you’re there ANGST 2.2k

Warnings: overall angsty vibes. Sad Bucky. Idk depictions of depression I guess? shitty writing!

“You came” Bucky's surprised tone pulled you out of your thoughts.

Before saying anything else, you shook your head in disbelief. From certain points of view, he looked exactly the same as when you last saw him months ago, but if you looked past his rugged exterior, it was very easy to tell something was truly eating away at his heart.

“Of course I came” you frowned, “You called me”

“Thought you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore” Bucky mumbled.

You looked him up and down, thoroughly confused by his statement, but decided to keep the tone of the conversation from going too dark too fast. “Shut up, Barnes” you scoffed, “Don’t even joke about that.” A hint of a smile appeared at the corner of his lips, but it was forced, you could easily tell he wasn’t truly being himself. “What’s up?”

Bucky took a deep breath as if gathering the courage to word his thoughts. When his eyes met yours he flinched, the pain clouding his otherwise bright blue eyes. He started with a long sigh and a shake of his head but then, cringed as he finally spoke up. “I need help”

His confession went directly to the pit of your stomach. “What happened? Whatever it is, you got it, but what-”

“Nothing happened” Bucky stopped you, “I need help”

“I don’t understand”

“I need someone to-” he sighed, closing his eyes as his head fell forward in what could only be described as shame, “I need someone to talk to” and it was funny, considering he just walked out of his psychiatrist’s office. “Someone that’s not paid to listen to me” he added, “Someone who understands”

It was moments like these that you truly wished Steve was still here. Or Nat. Your best friends, yes, but they were the glue that held you all together, and now in their absence, you were all threatening to fall apart. 

But of course you’d be there for Bucky. Whatever he needed you were more than eager to provide, but at the same time, you were fully aware that your capabilities were limited. You didn’t lack the understanding or the experience, but you lacked the words. You had the sympathy, but not the advice he needed. But you were there. Like you have always been and always will be, so, that afternoon you ended up on his living room floor.

Surrounded by empty bottles of alcohol that had no effect on either of you whatsoever, you sat and listened to him rant his heart out until his throat couldn’t take it anymore. And then he broke down - completely. A full on mess, tears staining his cheeks as the temperature dropped in the room with every other pained groan he’d release. But he let it all out and the weight he had been carrying on his shoulder was unimaginable. There were too many things eating away at his heart, but the guilt was what kept him under its spell, what kept him up for the last months, what was physically destroying him.

“Y/n... “ he called for you, face hidden in his hands as he spoke, “I know you’re gonna say no, but-”

“No,” you stopped him, “Then don’t ask me”

“Please”

“No, Bucky” you sighed, grabbing his wrist so you could look him in the eyes, “If you already know it’s a bad idea, please don’t tell me because I’m afraid I’ll actually go through with it right now”

“But i can’t fucking sleep!” he cried out loud, falling back against the couch, arms propped up on his knees, “I keep having the same nightmares over and over again, and I can’t take it anymore”

“You don’t-” you took a deep breath, “You don’t want me to erase your mind, do you?”

The look in his eyes proved that that was exactly what he wanted. And the unshed tears that coated the otherwise pure and radiant blue of his eyes was almost enough to convince you.

“Please-” he begged, “I-”

“No, Buck” you shook your head and shuffled to face him properly, “As time passes, it’s only gonna get worse. The past will eventually catch up to you. You’ll want to know what you did”

He didn’t have it in him to fight you, so silence settled for a while. “You know sedatives don’t work on me?”

“I… never thought about it, but that makes sense”

Bucky gathered his lips into a tight line and nodded his head.

“Lady shrink isn’t of any help?” you asked.

“I have no clue what she’s doing” he shrugged, “Maybe it’s good in the long run, but fuck if I know how she expects me to make any kind of progress right now”

“You are, tho” you reassured him, “Making progress I mean”

“Am I?” Bucky laughed incredulously.

“Yes! You’re almost completely on your own feet. You really pushed through”

“Or maybe I’m just ignoring all of my problems”

“You just told me about them” you chuckled, and threw an arm over his shoulders.

Hesitatingly at first, he eventually leaned in into your hold, allowing himself to completely fall against your chest. “I hate this”

“I think that’s a given” you laughed, curling your fingers around the roots of his way too short hair. “A wise man once said that whenever someone acts like they have their shit together, they’re either lying or delusional”

“Who said that?”

“I don’t know” you confessed, “I saw that on the internet”

For the first time that night, you actually heard him laugh, and it sounded so good - it was short and weak, but it was sweet and honest. “That’s a pathetic attempt at cheering me up, but I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it” Bucky said as he pushed himself up.

“I wish I could do more” you mumbled, “But I don’t know what, or how, but-”

“Thank you”

“You don’t have to thank me, you know that” you smiled.

He didn’t know that. He’d never stop thanking you for even the smallest gestures. The day where Bucky would understand that kindness, in some cases, is a given, was far away, but you had the patience and determination to work for it.

As you talked and talked, and the topic of conversation kept shifting from one area to the other, the sun set, night settling outside his small windows. It was time for you to leave, and you would’ve done it, had he asked you not to at the last second.

You had your shoes on and one hand on the door handle, when he stumbled over his words, obviously too shy to properly hold his ground. “Actually can you- can you-” he mumbled, pointing to his couch, “Can you stay here tonight?”

And of course you did. The night didn’t last much longer after that, with Bucky settling on the floor, only a blanket to keep him company, and you sprawled out on the couch as silence settled.

But your mind was too busy to drift off. You knew his’ was too, but decided to refrain from speaking up, hoping to let him fall asleep, even for a short while.

It was loud inside your head. You always promised yourself you’d never intrude on someone’s thoughts and read through them without their approval, but you physically felt Bucky radiate energy, and your mind just slipped. But then, your heart almost stopped.

You saw yourself. You saw yourself slapping him back in Wakanda when he decided to go under ice again, you saw yourself moving a car out of his way back in Bucharest, when you risked your life for his because you trusted Steve that much, and because you were that good of a friend. You saw yourself at Tony’s funeral, eyes shiny with tears and then felt an almost uncontrollable urge to hug yourself - and then realised it wasn’t your urge, it was Bucky’s. At this point, your heart beat so fast you were actually afraid he’d hear it. But when goosebumps appeared all over your skin, you realised he couldn’t hear you, that he was asleep and that the nightmares started materializing. 

What convinced you to act on it was the sudden jerk of his body and the way to fully tensed instantly after. So, unable to just sit and watch, you rolled over to the side and allowed your hand to fall by his temple, little specks of light rolling off the tips of your fingers as you forced the thoughts away. Seconds later, you saw him relax and shift around, gathering the blanket he laid on to his chest as he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

His relaxed form and the steady pace of his breathing put a smile on your face. But you made the mistake of thinking this was a one time thing, however, before you realised, you found yourself leaning over him again, ushering yet another wave of nightmares away. And it kept being an ongoing process until the sun rose, and you cursed yourself as you did not get one second of shut eye. But it was worth it. The sight of him finally resting, knowing he spent his night in his happy place that you this time did not intrude on, made up for your tiredness. 

When Bucky drifted out of his deep sleep, you figured it was safe to relax too. But knowing that if you went to sleep right now you wouldn’t wake up until noon, you stood up, determined to give him the full best friend experience.

But all you found in his kitchen was a box of stale cereal, a soft cucumber and candy wrappers. Had he not looked so adorable sleeping shirtless and curled into a ball on the floor, you would have woken him up yelling. But instead, you decided to order some food, and the simple fact that the sound of the delivery guy ringing the doorbell didn’t wake him up, actually terrified you. With a life like yours, no one sleeps that deeply, but then there he was, snoring away the late hours of the morning. 

By the time he finally stirred awake, the food was already cold, and you were bored out of your mind. “What- what time is it?” he mumbled, voice rich with sleep.

“A little bit past 2” you yawned from your spot on the couch.

“2 pm?” Bucky huffed, sitting up in a hurry and rushing to grab his phone. “What the-” he turned to you confused, “It’s 2pm…”

“Yeah” you sighed, “And the food is cold”

“Food?” Bucky gawked, looking over at the small table by the window, “You got food?”

“You didn’t have any” you defended yourself. You wanted to scold him for not taking better care of himself, but he looked so homey and cozy and vulnerable, that you couldn’t bring yourself to.

Eventually, you stood up and walked over to him. “I’ll let you eat, Buck, but I gotta go” you sighed, giving him a hug, “Got some stuff to do” you lied, by stuff meaning sleep, since you were exhausted.

“Yeah, of course” he mumbled in agreement, wrapping his arms around your frame, and bringing you closer. He sank his head into the crook of your neck, holding you to his chest for a moment longer than you would have considered friendly. But you didn’t complain, his hold was stern and loving, and you really needed that right now. “Thank you” Bucky added when he finally let you go. His right palm cupped your cheek as he looked down at you, awe and admiration in his eyes.

“Nothing to thank me for, Buck” you smiled, and then pulled away.

He silently watched you get ready to leave, following you around until you reached the door and turned around to say goodbye. And it was weird. Your heart boomed against your ribcage, and you didn’t have to read his thoughts to know he was feeling the same kind of nervous. And it may have been the one too many stories you read but you actually feared something was going to happen. Thankfully, it didn’t. Instead you shared another hug, and parted ways.

However, all you managed to do was reach the staircase before you heard his door open, followed by the sound of his bare feet sprinting down the hallway. “What are you-”

“Can you stay?” he asked, shaking from head to toe, “In New York I mean, can you please stay? Just a few more days”

“Well, I- yeah, I guess I can” you mumbled.

“I just, I need a few more days. You’re screwing my head back on, I just need you now. Steve is gone, and Sam is all the way in Louisiana and I hate phones and I-”

“Wow-” you laughed, “I’m not even the second choice, I’m the third?”

“Shut up, Y/n” Bucky frowned, “Stop being a smartass for a second”

“I’m sorry” you rolled your eyes, but he didn’t care.

In the blink of an eye, Bucky threw his arms around your shoulders and hugged you close, and you weren’t sure if the ‘I love you’ that echoed inside your mind had actually been spoken or just thought, but it was everything you never knew you needed.

[lieutenant-columbro]

WOAH ok i just finished watching mikey and nicky and! i am coping so well so completely normal! but i was wondering if you had any thoughts to share about the ending and why mikey didn’t let nicky in the house or at least tell him to run? i’m pretty sure that it was supposed to be a bitter betrayal or something like that, but mikey looked, to some extent, still really upset about it and like maybe there was some regret. just curious to hear your ideas! (i also know this is a columbo blog so feel free to ignore this ask, up to you!)

hehehehe another person who has experienced the TOTALLY normal 1976 classic film mikey and nicky, ofc i can go off about this

so, let's not forget that mikey was getting really fucking sick of nicky by that point. they've been fighting all night, nicky's broken mikey's watch that he valued immensely, and so on. all night he was urging the other gangsters to just get nicky's killing over with.

lastly, a lot of other people have explained this better than i can, but there's something to be said about the function of day and night as a symbol within the film. at night, no one is around, no one's watching, so mikey can express his genuine feelings to nicky more easily and without fear of reprimand. but when daytime comes, he has to go back home, he has to conform to the rules of the society he lives in. there's nothing he can do for nicky anymore. nicky's out in the light, he's exposed, and he's got nowhere to hide from everyone who's coming to get him. so he plays his last card and pleads once again for mikey's help. but what can he do? if he helps nicky he's going to be exposed too, both literally and metaphorically.

so that leads one to believe it was out of simple self-preservation that mikey turned nicky away. if other gangsters found out mikey was still sheltering nicky they'd probably kill him and his family too as punishment, an outcome which would be pretty shitty for everybody. i think he was absolutely conflicted about it, but all the anger and fear and frustration of that night led him to turn his back on nicky. he did still love him, but it was a dumb, heat-of-the-moment decision to protect himself instead of protecting nicky, and u can see how he realizes his mistake the moment he realizes nicky's dead, he's really gone. nicky was his last childhood friend, his last tether to the past, and now he's truly all alone.

idk there's so much u could say about this movie this is just a little bit of what i was thinking, i had to stop before i wrote a whole essay 😭 anyway thank you elaine may for making such a normal film girl ur amazing

[theladyofdeath]

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 6}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

A @snelbz x @tacmc collaboration.

Word Count: 3080

** N S F W **

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Aphrodite

– Goddess of love, beauty, and desire

The second Aelin stepped into Rowan’s apartment, silence ensued. With the door shut behind them, Aelin felt like his apartment had significantly shrunk in size since the last time she had been there. 

Granted, everything looked the same. The blanket that was draped across his leather sectional in his living room still laid in the same spot, his television was still quietly playing a hockey game, and his laptop sat on his coffee table. Only, this time, there wasn’t a mug of coffee next to it but a nearly-empty bottle of beer. 

“So,” Aelin began, just as Rowan said, “Sorry, it’s a mess.”

Aelin blinked, looking around at his pristine apartment. “This is what you consider a mess?”

Rowan looked around before chuckling, nervously. “Yeah, well, there’s….dust.” 

Aelin nodded, slowly, continuing to look around. “Well, here’s your clothes,” she said, at last, holding out the bag.

“Thanks,” Rowan muttered, taking the bag from her outstretched hand before tossing it aside. “Do you…want a drink or something? I was just doing some grading.”

“Grading and drinking?” Aelin asked. “Quite the combination.” 

Rowan shrugged. “Only makes the shitty papers a little bit better to read.”

“Have you read mine yet?” Aelin asked, before she could think better of it. Rowan hesitated, and Aelin shook her head. “Wow, that was an inappropriate question. Sorry.” 

“No, it’s fine,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You could have asked me that in class and I’d have answered it. I have.”

When he didn’t go on, Aelin cleared her throat awkwardly. “I’ve never taken a mythology course, so I don’t know much about it, save for what Disney taught me. Which apparently was all wrong, anyways.” She tucked a loose hair behind her ear and cleared her throat again. Maybe coming here was a bad idea. “But music, I do know a lot about, so Apollo seemed like a safe bet. Even if I’m sure I sounded stupid and-.”

“You didn’t,” he interrupted, leaning against the counter. “Your essay is the only one I’ve read that seemed like a real opinion piece, and not like you’re trying to blow smoke up my ass and impress me with your knowledge. This is an introduction class, remember? You aren’t supposed to be a scholar of mythology yet. I liked how honest it was.” 

Aelin blinked. “Really?”

Rowan nodded, his eyes remaining on hers. It made Aelin’s heart beat a little bit faster. “Yeah, it was great. I love to hear your thoughts, and I’m excited to hear more of them.”

Aelin nodded and took a deep breath. She should have turned and walked out, told him goodbye, but she couldn’t. Her feet were glued to the floor, her heart nearly ready to beat out of her chest. Her thoughts trailed to the last time she was here, when she’d met the most abundant amount of pleasure she had ever received, and left smitten and wanting more. 

From the way the light in his eyes shifted, Aelin knew that Rowan was thinking the same thing. 

“I should go,” Aelin said, quietly. 

“Yeah,” Rowan agreed.

Neither of them moved. 

“You could’ve kept the clothes,” Rowan continued, swallowing. “You didn’t have to come all the way here.”

“I thought you’d want them back,” Aelin said, even though she wasn’t really sure that she even truly believed that. 

Every second more that Rowan stared at her, and she stared back, a throbbing formed between her thighs. Rowan said, “You look better in them than I do.” 

Aelin swallowed. “I should go,” she repeated.

“Do you want to go?” Rowan asked, hardly more than a whisper.

Aelin remained where she was, watching him, her chest rising and falling, rapidly, with each heavy breath she took. 

She slowly shook her head, and before she could form an intelligible thought, Rowan was coming toward her, taking her waist into his hands, and claiming her mouth with his.

She melted into his touch, her hands diving into his hair, holding her against him. He wasted no time, lifting her and setting her on the counter behind her, and stepping between her legs. Aelin gently nibbled on his lip and he opened for her, his tongue sweeping into her mouth just as hers did the same. His hands were still sitting on her waist, but hers were less than idle.

Finding the hem of his shirt, her fingers ran over the abdomen muscles she couldn’t get out of her head. He pulled his lips from hers as a shudder wracked through him and he let out a shaking breath.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he admitted, pulling her to the edge of the counter and grinding against her.

Aelin’s lashes fluttered as she let out a soft moan. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, either.”

His lips were on hers again, hungrily, longingly, and all conversation faded away as Aelin pulled off Rowan’s shirt and ran her hands through his messy, short silvery hair. 

Rowan muttered a curse against Aelin’s mouth, and she felt a fire ignite within her core. She wanted it. Gods, she wanted it, wanted him. She knew it was wrong, knew there were boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed, knew the schools had rules, knew employers had rules, but as his mouth trailed from her lips to her neck, just beneath her jaw, Aelin had a really, really hard time caring about any of that. 

His hands slid beneath her top, feeling cool and needy against her skin. 

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop,” he murmured between the kisses that trailed down her neck. She knew he would, too. One word, and it was done, over.

But, despite the rules, she begged, “Don’t fucking stop.” 

That was all Rowan needed to hear. He pulled her shirt over her head, his lips immediately finding her skin again. His kisses trailed from her neck to her shoulder and he pushed the strap of her bra down. His hand did the same with the other and as soon as the straps were free, he reached behind her and unclasped it.

Dropping his head, his mouth closed around her nipple and his tongue circled the sensitive peak. Aelin’s moan was louder than she meant for it to be, but Rowan didn’t try to stifle it. Instead his hand found her breast, rolling her other nipple between his fingers.

Aelin swore, and it had Rowan moaning, muffled, palming her breast as his teeth tugged on her nipple as his free hand made its way into the back of her leggings. 

When he realized that she wore no panties, he was about to combust. 

Aelin’s hands dove into his hair and she pulled his head back. “I need you. Now.”

Rowan’s only response was finding Aelin’s mouth again with his own, and shoving his sweatpants down onto the kitchen floor. His hard length was on perfect display inside of his boxer-briefs. When Aelin palmed him, he grabbed her off of the counter and carried her into the living room, dropping her down onto the couch. Before he covered his body with hers, he yanked off her leggings and tossed them aside. 

He groaned as she continued to rub him through his underwear until he finally couldn’t take it anymore, needing to feel her skin on his. He intended to take them off, but only got as far as freeing his length before she wrapped her hand around him and stroked once, twice. His head fell into the crook of her neck and he did his best not to look like an inexperienced teenager, but he bucked his hips into her hands, groaning again.

This was all he’d been able to think of for the past few days, ever since he saw her in his classroom. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of taking her against every free surface in the hall, as well as in his office. He didn’t have a chance to explain that to her though, as she shifted beneath him and lined him up at her entrance.

She was all slick skin and warm, soft wetness and he pushed into her. With a breathy sigh, her head fell back, eyes rolling back, and he took advantage of her attention elsewhere to look down at where they were joined. Watching as his hips rocked into hers, he breathed her name, gripping her hip and fighting the urge to press her down into the cushions with his weight.

Aelin’s hands snaked around the back of Rowan’s neck and she pulled him against her, kissing him, urgently. Rowan pulled out slowly before thrusting himself back into her, over and over and over again, relentlessly. It felt so good, so right. He kept his pace, pushing into her harder each time, until she was screaming, his name falling from her lips continuously. 

Rowan’s moan became muffled against her neck as her knees began to quiver around him. As he felt her come, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer.

When he came, Aelin was clinging to him, still coming down from her high.

Rowan’s body fell against hers, and her body remained wrapped around his as they caught their breaths. 

She was unable to stop herself from running her fingers up and down his back, even going so far as to brush them through the short hair at the nap of his neck. There was no question what he would say after he pulled out and cleaned her up.

This was a mistake.

We shouldn’t have done that.

You need to go.

Aelin wasn’t sure which it would be or if it would be some mixture of the three. All she knew is that it would hurt.

Seeing him in class every day, knowing that this connection existed between them, aside from just sex, was going to hurt.

Pulling back, his green eyes found hers and she braced herself for him to ask her to leave.

But then he kissed her again.

“I was going to order dinner,” he said, lips still brushing hers. “If you want to stay.”

Aelin hesitated, but not because she didn’t want to stay. 

Rowan picked up on it, though. “Or, if you don’t want to…” he began, pushing himself up off of her.

Aelin shook her head and held onto him, pulling him back down on top of her. “No, it’s not that, it’s the opposite.” She laughed, quietly. “I was just…preparing myself for you to say…anything but that.”

Rowan’s eyes softened as he nodded, slowly. “So…you do want to stay, then?”

Aelin brushed his damp hair off of his forehead. “Am I allowed to stay?”

“Right now, what we’re allowed to do is the last thing on my mind,” Rowan breathed, leaning down to kiss her softly. “Right now, all I’m thinking about is ordering dinner and having you here with me.”

She nodded, smiling softly. “That sounds nice.”

“Okay,” he replied, returning her smile. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

“Okay.”

Just as he did the last time, he returned with a warm rag, wiping her off and cleaning her up. He also returned with his shirt, the one she’d intended to return, rather than her clothes.

“I’m on the pill, by the way,” she said, glancing over at him as he pulled his own sweatpants back on.

He blinked once, as if he’d just realized they hadn’t used a condom.

And he’d come inside her.

“I…really should have asked before I just assumed.” He rubbed at the back of his neck again. “I’m sorry.”

Aelin chuckled, quietly. “Don’t worry. If I wasn’t prepared, I wouldn’t have let you inside of me to begin with.”

“Fair enough,” Rowan said, sitting next to her on the couch. “In my defense, our last…encounter is still a little fuzzy when it comes to the little details.”

When they’d been together last, there had been a lot of alcohol…and Rowan couldn’t remember if he’d used a condom then, but he couldn’t imagine that he had.

He sent up a quick thank you to the gods for the creation of birth control.

Now, he put his arm around Aelin as he pulled up the menu to a little local Mexican restaurant a block down the road. “What’re you in the mood for?”

Aelin hummed and looked through the menu as Rowan scrolled through it. “Chimichanga. And a taco. Make it two. With a side of rice. And a bowl of queso.”

Rowan gave her an amused glance as he entered all of her requests into the cart.

“What?” She asked, huffing a laugh. “You’re the reason I worked up an appetite.” 

“Fair enough,” he laughed and pressed a kiss to her temple. He ordered their food, thankful that his favorite restaurant down the road was still serving margaritas to-go, and then set his phone aside.

It was quiet for a minute and when he glanced over at Aelin, she was brushing the end of a lock of her hair over her lips.

He loosened it from her fingers and she looked over at him. “What’s on your mind?”

She shrugged. “I’m trying to figure out where we’re going from here, what we’re doing…”

She was still only wearing his shirt, her leggings and own shirt still strewn somewhere around his kitchen. He turned to face her, brushing his thumb across her cheekbone. “It’s been less than a week and I can’t get you off my mind. I’ve tried, but… I don’t want to.”

Aelin hesitated. “I feel the same way. But….your job-.”

“I’ll keep my job-.”

“And my future-.”

“I won’t ask you to do this if you don’t want to do this,” Rowan said. “I’m more than willing to keep us a secret. I just want to be with you.”

“I want to be with you, too,” Aelin breathed. “But is it really a relationship if we have to hide all the time?”

“You won’t be in school forever,” he said, taking her face into his hands. “Soon, you’ll graduate and then we won’t have to hide anymore.”

She was quiet for another moment, so he added, “You wanted to date me before you found out who I was. If you’re not interested anymore because of that, I get it—.”

“It’s not that,” she replied, leaning into his palm. “I just worry about the consequences.”

“Damn the consequences,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss her. “And we’ll be careful, to make sure nobody knows. Not a soul.”

She made a face and for a second, he got worried, but she said, “I may have gotten wine drunk on Tuesday and told my roommate. But she’s my best friend, and she wouldn’t tell anyone.”

Chuckling, he nodded. “I got whiskey drunk and told mine. So we’re even.”

That made her laugh and the sight and sound loosened the strain in his chest,

“How do we do this?” She asked, covering one of his hands with hers.

“Carefully,” he said, and kissed her, slowly. “And one day at a time.”

“I can do that,” she said, and climbed into his lap, straddling his waist.

“Me too,” he promised.

“We’ll have to lay down some ground rules,” he replied, his hands immediately finding her ass. He hadn’t forgotten she wasn’t wearing underwear. “Like minimal contact in class. We can’t seem too…familiar.”

She nodded. “That’s reasonable. And no special treatment from you. I’m still your student, whether we’re having sex or not.”

“Special treatment?” He chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, like you can’t grade my papers or exams easier because we’re sleeping together.” She was running her hands over his bare chest, following the lines of his tattoo. Her eyes met his and went wide. “Or harder. Not unless you’re willing to give extra tutor sessions.”

Rowan rolled his eyes, but leaned up, capturing her lips in a kiss. “I promise, I’ll treat you just like every other student I have. Except for the fact that we’re having sex. That is just for you.”

“So,” she mumbled, acting shy all of a sudden. Rowan thought it was adorable. “You’re saying we’re exclusive?”

Rowan’s eyes softened. “I sure as hell don’t want to be seeing anyone else.”

“Pretty sure that’s the definition of exclusive,” she said.

Rowan huffed a laugh, his fingers gripping her ass a little tighter. “Then yes, smart ass.”

Aelin’s grin widened. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Rowan pulled her closer into him before kissing her, yet again.

He liked kissing Aelin.

He didn’t think he would ever grow tired of kissing Aelin.

“So what excuse should I give to women when they throw themselves at me?” Rowan asked. “You know, since I can’t tell anyone that you’re my girlfriend.”

She snorted. “Do women throw themselves at you often?” His raised eyebrow was enough of an answer. That and Aelin was living proof that, yes, women did throw themselves at him. Chuckling, she said, “Right. Maybe the old, generic excuse of I’m working on myself right now. Don’t really have time for a girlfriend.”

She dropped her voice an octave when she said it, doing a horrible impression of Rowan’s deep voice, but he laughed. “I guess that would work. And you’re obviously so focused on your studies, 

since it’s your last semester, that you don’t even have time to think about dating.”

“I do take my studies seriously,” Aelin said, and though her tone was stark, her eyes were playful.

“I can tell you do.” Rowan was leaning in to kiss her again when there was a knock on the front door.

They both jumped, Aelin going so far as to climb off of his lap, when Rowan realized it was their dinner.

She blushed as he went to retrieve it, grabbing two glasses for the margaritas.

“Are you going to jump every time we order food?” Rowan asked, sitting next to her with a pile of to-go boxes. He handed her a margarita.

Aelin chuckled as she took it. “Are you?”

Rowan sipped from his glass as he grinned. When he set it on the coffee table, he said, “I guess this will just take some getting used to.”

“I guess it will,” Aelin agreed, pulling her knees up on the couch as she began to flip open the boxes. “But I’m okay with that.”

Rowan leaned over to kiss her, softly, as he said, “Me too.”