#i just hate making any sort of 'announcement' about taking breaks cause like

[ghost-proofbaby]

hiiiiiiii friends.

so this feels like an awkward post to make but also wanted to let you all know that i may be a bit inactive the next week or so. i know i've already been pretty spotty/inactive the last few weeks but just sort of wanted to make a post to be completely transparent.

i see all your kind messages, i appreciate all the lovely reactions, and i most certainly still have all your incredible requests on my burner!!! i'm just having some health issues right now and life is a whole thing of work, doctor's appointments, taking time with friends, rinse, repeat. my hope is to be more active during october because spooky season is my time to come aliiiiive baby!!

but yeah. i promise i'll be back soon, things just might take a bit more time. <3 love y'all and giving all the hugs and kisses as always!! <3

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

👉🏽👈🏽 spare any jjk faerie au headcanons you have cooked up for a desperate lass?

of course because man do i have some thoughts as a lover of faeries. i could probably go on about this for hours

gojou satoru | elf

a prince hailing from a seelie court

his very birth shook faerieland as foretold by the stars red, blue and purple stars that soared through the sky the night of his birth and his eyes are ones that can see mana and the shape of the soul among other things

presents himself as a revel-loving fool he simply enjoys games, but he is a lot more observant and calculating than he lets on

in his youth he often toted on and on about the stupidity of love, likening it to more of a curse and an ailment that turned the sane into fools so outside of the obligation of having heirs, he doesn't desire love in the slightest

until he meets falls in love at first sight with you, a banshee who saved his life when you coincidentally happened to be passing by after he found himself in a bloody situation

causes the entire court to go into an uproar when he immediately announces his intentions to make you his queen never mind the fact you haven't even accepted his proposal yet

his mother doesn't like you in the slightest. she gave birth to one whose very birth has shaken the earth and if her son is going to marry anyone it is going to be someone more fitting of that position

satoru ignores all that in favor of doing his best to woo you now that you're stuck living in his palace until a revel thrown in your honor passes

yes he knows this very much so makes him a hypocrite but he doesn't want anyone else

asks you all sorts of question about being a banshee. how your cries work, if there are different wails for different situations, how long you've been heralding death

at least you know the man is nothing if not passionate. it's hard resisting his charms as he asks you gently each time to marry him. you think you just might say yes when you feel the ghost of his lips against yours

getou suguru | phouka

if he isn't being an advisor to seelie prince satoru, suguru is a human-hating phouka who is, unfortunately, stuck living with one

unlike humans, the folk are creatures who keep their word so when you are able to best him in something for a favor he's inclined to keep his promise

and yes, he promises that he won't harm you or your loved ones after your deal has come to a close. yes, this includes things you personally consider harmful ranging from murder to physical attacks

for a human, you're quite clever in looking out for any loopholes. you apparently weren't lying when you said you were a faerie enthusiast

but that's the extent of suguru's praise when he learns why you were so adamant to find a faerie to help with your problems ー

apparently you took a botany elective thinking it would be an easy A only to now be just barely passing the class

yes, that's right. you want a member of the folk, a phouka, to be a glorified tutor until the end of the semester just to make sure you don't get a failing grade. apparently, suguru gave you far too much credit

still, you end up growing on him overtime with your sense of humor and you're way of looking at things. he hates to put it so simply but he supposes you aren't like other humans he has come across

(suguru later nearly destroys your textbook because he himself grows frustrated with your class. the human sciences are just as confusing to him as it is you. but your grade has technically improved since he began helping you so it's not entirely a loss is it?)

nanami kento | elf-kobold hybrid

an elf-kobold hybrid with horns that gently curve atop his head akin to an imperial demon

a record keeper often has work writing down events as they take place as well as organizing historical texts as he sees fit. it's a tiring and thankless job but it is something his family has been doing for generations and he sees no reason to break tradition now

the one saving grace he has are naps he enjoys taking between late afternoon and dusk, religiously, by a lake close to the palace

you're a swan maiden who calls the lake home and his quiet company. it's winter in the human realm and rather than fly south with your flock, you decided to spend the season in faerie and decided that particular lake would be home

you're a playful, impish thing who enjoys presenting nanami with riddles as he grows tired and you watch over him to keep him safe while he sleeps. a deal you've both made in favor of him bringing you delicious sweets from the palace

it's quite the favorable deal for you both

of course, inevitably you two get to talking and find yourselves having more and more in-depth conversations as the week goes by

what would nanami do if he decided to break family tradition?

where have you traveled in the human realm?

as a swan maiden, you seldom ever take off your cloak of feathers. there's no reason to ask, nanami knows the rules that swan maiden and selkies follow. should your cloak or coat be taken, you're forced to follow their will

as such, nanami never refers to your coat in the slightest. he never even asks about it

it's a great sign of trust among your kind to ever be vulnerable with your cloak. something nanami learns first hand when he wakes up one particular evening and finds that you have covered him with your cloak to make sure he stays warm

fushiguro toji | boggart

a lord in an unseelie court of faerie, who works in service to the high king as his sword

had a mortal wife who died centuries ago and together they had a half-human son

his son lives among humans presently and while they don't readily talk to one another, toji often has his men sent to the human realm to watch over his son and give him reports on his wellbeing

doesn't imagine himself ever loving someone he did his wife again until running across you a human who stumbled into the wrong mound

allows you to stay in his fief until it is otherwise safe for you to return home

you say you're a dancer so you dance for him and keep him entertained as a sort of thanks for not promptly killing you when you trespassed on his territory

the tension between you both is palpable to many. his staff who are forced to wait on your hand and foot as his guest and to the gentry you see at unseelie revels

the ones that gossip about how it isn't strange for toji to take human lovers

and yet despite that, no matter how close you get, toji keeps a distance between you both that. he fell in love with a human once, still remembers the sting of watching his beloved wife grow old and wither away in front of his very eyes

it's a pain he doesn't want to revisit ever again

okkotsu yuuta | human

unlike most stories of selkies and their evil human spouses, you're marriage with yuuta is quite the happy one in the seaside town you call home

yours was an accidental love story where he accidentally caught you in his net, only to release you

the next day, you brought piles of fresh fish and crabs and shrimp by his beachside home as thanks, much to his confusion as to where the catch came from

you usually followed his boat when he goes to fish and he learns how to recognize you, often laughing sheepishly when he saw you, warning you not to get too close so you don't end up in the net again

it isn't until a stormy night when yuuta fell overboard that you did anything drastic such as save his life, taking him to the shore and giving him cpr

you stayed with him all night until the storm passed keeping him warm

when yuuta woke up to seeing a beautiful, naked person by his side, he was understandably surprised. even more so when you transformed into a seal right in front of him. that was his introduction to the folk, to magic

now he's surrounded by you and your ocean-filled magic everyday in your little cottage by the sea

you come and go as you please, sometimes for weeks sometimes even for months at a time depending on the time of year

but you always come back and yuuta is happy to see you every time

[king-candy-lovemail]

stone face (ace ventura x reader oneshot)

requested: yep!! heres to you, YourMomIsBlowingMe (i will never get over that username LMFAO) on wattpad

a piece of my heart will always belong to ace, the hyperfixation on both movies (and the cartoon) got me thru some tough times 😭

kinda unhappy with how this turned out but at the same time kinda proud... ironic i suppose! :P

You hated people. Always selfish, and always out to get you.

All your life, you'd worked dead-end jobs. Retail, customer service, fast food, hell, even a pyramid scheme. You did what you could to scrape by.

And then, you finally thought you'd made it big.

There were a few openings at the local sheriff's office- entry-level positions with little to no required previous experience. Nothing life-threatening or hands-on, though. More like taking phone calls and sorting papers.

Of course, you'd brushed off the offerings when you'd first seen them posted. Yeah, sure, wouldn't that be great. 

And then you saw the starting wage.

Now, here you were, filing 'important papers' for your local police station. You didn't really care about the contents of the files. You always just had headphones in, listening to Satie, or perhaps Chopin.

Most days were the same. Life was fairly bland, and the one joy of life was dancing around the filing room as you listened to classical music.

Coworkers came and went, and no one dared to bother you while you were on your break. Even your current supervisor (a temporary one at that- a few months before you began working there, a whole lot of corruption and conspiracy had went down, causing the previous supervisor to be jailed) barely spoke to you. You got your work done swiftly and efficiently, and didn't care much for socialization.

All had been relatively normal until he showed up.

You relished the peaceful days at the station. Little to no reports, barely any paperwork to file, and a quiet afternoon in the break room. But it seemed that 'peaceful' day would head in a much different direction.

When a brightly dressed, energetic individual entered the station, you were already thrown off. Boisterous people weren't your kind of crowd.

However, this man was more than just boisterous.

He had announced his arrival quite loudly, to your annoyance. He threw his business cards up in the air, letting the cheap cardstock flutter down to the floor. You couldn't help but wonder if he held a grudge against the janitorial staff.

As you pressed your headphones closer to your ears, hoping to drown out this man's incessant noisemaking, you felt your self-proclaimed safety blanket be snatched away.

"Well, well, what are we listening to?" The man's voice came out in a drawl, surprisingly smooth. You snapped your head up, and the bright figure wore a shit-eating grin as he spun the headphones in his hand before slapping them over his own ears.

"Ah! Variation 5 from Paquita, correct?" he chatted idly, spewing some nonsense fact about the ballet. You glared up at him, grabbing your headphones back quickly as he was distracted by the sound of his own voice.

He shrieked dramatically, placing his hands on his head. "Hey, hey! Watch the 'do, woulda?!" His cries fell upon deaf ears as you adjusted your headphones.

"Don't make a fool of yourself, Ventura! That there's Y/N, they've been here for a few months and don't take shit from nobody!" One of your middle-aged female coworkers cackled at her own description of you, slapping you on the back much harder than you're sure she meant to.

You stumbled forward as a result of her force, your headphones being knocked out of your hands. You cursed under your breath, glaring back up at this 'Ventura' man as you picked your saving grace back up off of the floor.

'Ventura' stuck his hand out, imploring you to shake it. You did so, albeit extremely reluctantly. As his warm hand encased yours, you glowered.

"The name's Ace, Ace Ventura. I'm a... heh, pet detective. And ya see, I'm here to celebrate my three month anniversary of SHOWING UP THIS WHOLE STATION! OH YEAH!" He pulled his hand away to, well, pelvic thrust victoriously. You stifled a laugh at his antics, and your coworker made a strangled noise of shock.

"Well look at that, Ventura! You nearly cracked the stone face!" she joked. Ace tilted his head, staring at you.

"Stone face? What are you talking about, Montoya?" he inquired. You clenched your jaw, attempting to walk off. However, Montoya held you in a vice grip.

"Well, Y/N here hasn't cracked even a smile since they first started working here. Matter of fact, me and the guys were startin' to think it was impossible for them to show an emotion other than apathy!" she hollered, her dry fits of laughter becoming slightly grating to your ears.

Montoya was one of the few coworkers you could tolerate. She was motherly, but in a rough way. She gave off a tough-love vibe, the kind of woman to noogie you and smack you if she caught you underage drinking. Sometimes, though, she still got on your nerves.

Ace smirked slightly, and you grew even more irritated. "That so?" he teased. "Well, I bet I can get 'em to laugh by the end of the year, Montoya!" She stuck out her hand, and as they shook, they announced in unison, 'deal!'.

You threw your arms up in defeat, groaning. "Maybe your deal should be to see who can stop talking about me as if I'm not even here by the end of the week!" you cried. Slipping your headphones back on, you walked back to your filing room.

Finally, peace and quiet.

You hated Ace Ventura most of all. Out of every person you'd ever met, you were sure you despised him the most.

Your once-quiet and enjoyable breaks were now interrupted by your headphones being taken suddenly and a familiar voice sounding out from behind you, an irritating 'guess who?' leaving his lips.

You would immediately stumble to get your music back desperately, and each time he would name exactly the song you were listening to.

At this point, you were honestly surprised. Who knew such a foolish, idiotic man had such knowledge on works featured mainly in ballets?

And then, one day, he had caught you dancing along as you did your work.

You had never prided yourself in your dancing, but you had endlessly studied certain ballets for years on end. Call it a hobby or an obsession- either way, it was what got you by.

You were shocked when a pair of arms wrapped around you, lifting you up at the exact moment you had planned to check if the door was still closed.

"Guess who, sugarplum?" he sang cheekily, spinning you around slightly. You screamed, unable to control your sudden outburst of giggles. 

"Hey, please, put me down!" you shrieked, still laughing as he held you close. You tried to ignore the way your body temperature rose at his proximity to you, and the way his arms were wrapped around you...

His voice was unnaturally low now as he muttered, "Told ya I could make you laugh." You furrowed your brow, annoyed once again.

"Go back to whatever it was you were doing, Ace! Tell Montoya about your little bet, and that you won, alright? But leave me out of this shit," you sneered. As you continued your work, you could tell Ace hadn't moved from where he stood. He stood there, still watching you, unmoving.

"What? Go on, you won your deal! Now go."

"That was the first time you said my name," Ace cooed, a stupid smile making its way onto his face. You rolled your eyes, turning away again.

"I like it when you say it. It's a lot better than the other names you call me," he joked. You cracked a smirk at his words.

"What? You mean shithead, bitchboy, and bastard aren't endearing enough for you?" you teased, and Ace let out a laugh.

You sighed once again, trying to push down the feelings that arose over his laugh. "Just... go now, please."

You would never admit that you had wished he would've stayed.

The station's New Year's party wasn't an event you had been chomping at the bit to attend. However, with incessant urging from Montoya and Ace, you resigned yourself to a night of observing drunken buffoons.

The partying never seemed to take a break. Montoya was already shitfaced by the time you got there, while you couldn't seem to find Ace anywhere.

"H-hey, Y/N!" Montoya stuttered out, her words slurring together. She leaned on you for support, despite your body nearly being crushed by the woman's much more muscular frame.

You coughed- her breath reeked of alcohol. "Jesus, how much did you have to drink?" The woman simply cackled at your words, grabbing a random solo cup from a nearby table.

"Oh, please Y/N! My fun has just begun!" She downed yet another swig of beer- or was it whiskey? You weren't sure what this party had to offer- before growing closer to you once again. "I'm surprised, Ventura said he couldn't get you to crack even the slightest smile. And now, here we are, end of the year. I guess he'll be losing!" 

Your breath stopped momentarily, the shock seeping in. "A-Ace said that?" 

He didn't tell her that he won their stupid little game? I guess he's... a little more mature than I gave him credit for?

Your train of thought was disrupted by Montoya's drunken squealing.

"I did it! Ha! You cracked a smile, I WIN! I'm gonna go tell that cocky Ventura right now! He's going to piss himself, hell yeah!" 

You watched as Montoya slugged away, a small smile still on your face. You covered your mouth quickly, not wanting to draw anymore attention to yourself.

"How's it goin', sugarplum?" Ace purred, sliding into the space beside you. You turned away from him, desperate to hide your grin and the heat rushing to your face.

"A-Ace, I haven't, um... I didn't, oh, um..." Your words caught in your throat, and you had to stop yourself from burying your face in his chest that instant. He slowly moved your hand away, letting out a dramatic gasp as he witnessed your smile.

"Y/N L/N, smiling?! This isn't normal, you need to see a doctor this instant!" he shouted. Luckily, with the rest of the party noise, his showing off was drowned out. He pressed a hand to your face, pretending to be feeling for your temperature.

"Oh, my!" he exclaimed, a girl-ish Southern drawl being added into his eccentric speech as he continued, "Looks like you've caught yourself a fever right there!"

You ducked away, trying not to laugh. "Ace, enough! Now, being serious. You didn't tell Montoya about how you won your stupid deal?" you inquired. Ace sucked in a breath through his teeth, placing his hands on his hips.

"Well darlin', what can I say? My reward was just getting to see you happy," he teased, cupping your face gently. You felt like your eyes were going to bulge out of your skull as he leaned in.

Your moment, however, was interrupted by a victorious Montoya.

"Guess what, Ventura! I did it! I cracked that stone face like an egg, I'll tell ya! So you lost, and I won! Suck on that, pet boy!" she screamed, throwing her arms up (and subsequently sloshing the mysterious alcoholic beverage in her cup around haphazardly).

Ace chuckled, bringing you in closer to his side with an arm wrapped around your waist. "What can I say, Montoya. You won! But as you'll soon come to find, I've won a bigger prize," he said smoothly, fingergunning at the woman. In her buzzed stupor, she just shrugged and walked away.

You turned to face him, an unimpressed look on your face.

"Really? Now that was cheesy. What's next, you're gonna kiss me as the new year rings in?" you teased, pursing your lips.

Ace let out a fake laugh, pulling you in flush to his body. You looked away instinctively as he leaned in close, whispering to you as he had the day he won that foolish game.

"On the contrary, my dear, I've never been a man who likes to wait."

[marjorie189]

🌸 V Party games (truth or dare etc) - with Sam Winchester🥰🥰

Thank you for the request anon!

I've been wanting to write for someone new in a really long time! So, here it goes hope you enjoy!

~

Y/N’s POV:

There had been a couple of unexplainable back to back deaths in a small town in Louisiana. 

It sparked our attention when, all the papers could come up with was “a small town mystery.” After the same exact incident happened various times. 

“So we know that in all four times the deaths occurred at night, with these kids all around the same age, and their bodies have all been nearly torn apart like animal attacks…” I spoke aloud the facts and what we know so far to Sam. 

“Which is near impossible because it all happened while they were asleep. It’s not like a wild life animal could go into a house, specifically into their rooms without being noticed,” Sam responded. 

I then say, “And once any sort of noise would cause someone to think there was something in the house, it would be too late because they were already dead.” We reinform, to one another. 

“It doesn’t make sense.” Sam huffed, letting his head fall down into his hands. Rummaging his fingers through his hair. 

“Maybe a vengeful spirit?” I spit out. 

“But who is the question, if that is the case?” Sam asks, clearly at the edge of his seat. “All four victims have had it the same. Why would it start? Who would want to hurt them? It doesn’t make sense…” Sam trailed. 

“Well let’s take a break. Let’s see what Dean comes back with and then we��ll all play back again. Sound like a deal?” I say. Closing our journals/books and putting away the crime scene photos that clearly showcased the puncture wounds on the neck and deep clear stroken tears all over the victims chests.  

“Yeah, okay, let’s clear our heads.” Sam said, closing his laptop. 

Sam leaned back against his chair and I could feel myself under his gaze. 

“How about we play a game?” Sam smiled. 

“Ok, like what?” I let out a giggle.

“Truth or dare.” He declared. 

“What, like we’re a group of kids sitting around a campfire?” I smile, letting out a laugh. 

I look at his brown orbs and our laughter sync together. 

“But go on, I’m waiting,” I swiftly move my hand, indicating for him to start. 

“Truth or Dare.” He asks the infamous questions. 

“Hm. Truth,” I announce, waiting patiently for his response. 

“If you would have to choose one hunter to be partners with for the rest of your life, who would you choose? Me or Dean?” Sam questioned, always curious. 

“What?! What kind of question is that? Both of you bring unique qualities to this hunting life and I wouldn’t be able to pick between one or the other. Like who would be out there speaking to families, while we’re here doing research, if I only had to choose one of you guys? Well, it would probably be one of us if it was a two-man job, but that would mean more work for a duo. So my answer would be both of you guys, because we have a system that works for us,” I manage to explain. 

“Ok, I’ll accept that offer. Makes sense. Now your turn,” Sam smiles. 

“How do you feel now that I’ve joined you Winchesters? Do you like it? Pros? Cons? Do you hate it? Because I can leave if one of you doesn't like it,” I ask curiously. 

“Well, you didn’t even ask ‘truth or dare’” Sam teased. 

I instantly feel my cheeks warming up and a shy smile forming. 

Sam let out a laugh, as I softly kicked him under the table. 

“I was going to pick truth anyway.” He chuckled. 

“I think you’re a great fit for us because sometimes Dean and I need someone apart from him and I to talk to and spend time with because we’ve spent our whole lives together. And let's just say we can get on each other's nerves sometimes. Your personality also goes really well with ours because you can easily slide into our conversations and understand our humor. Or when things are getting too deep or serious you know how to meddle your way to help us. You just know us so well. It’s not like with a stranger or with someone we don’t feel comfortable with, we’d tend to keep to ourselves or be someone we’re not. With you we can be us and we don’t have to hide. I don’t think we’d be able to do another hunt without you anymore. You’re great with book research, hands on research, and combat. You’re not just an extra set of hands, you’re family!” Sam sweetly ended his answer. 

“Aww, You’re going to make me cry.” I say, slightly tearing up. 

“Oh and that! You balance us out because you’re a woman. Well you already know we grew up in a household of men, so we never got female treatment throughout our lives. So that’s nice. Talks about crying and being sensitive. Dean is more open to that now that you’ve been here. Also the cooking is amazing! Or when we’re sick, you somehow know what to do. It’s nice to have that because we always grew up without any of it. So thank you. Also just to reiterate, women aren’t just that, you’ve brought much more than that but having a woman in our circle has been healing in a way I never thought we needed!” Sam expressed. 

“Well, I’m glad I could be of help,” I grin, knowing how appreciative they were. 

“Ok, truth or dare?” Sam asks. 

“I'll choose dare, to switch it up a little,” I smile. 

“Yes! Ok, perfect. When we go out to eat later with Dean, I dare you to add hot sauce under his pie!” Sam smirks.

My mouth opened wide once I heard the dare. 

“Do you want him to kill me?!” I yell from across the motel’s small table. 

Sam laughs loudly. 

“Oh I hate you!” I say rolling my eyes. “We’re not playing this game anymore!” I grunted. 

“Ok fine, I’m ok with that. As long as you do the dare I’m happy!” Sam jokes. 

“We can play another game. Kiss, Marry, Kill!” I say. 

“Ok, Leonardo DiCaprio, Henry Cavill, or Pedro Pascal,” Sam inquired. 

“I’ll kiss 90’s Leo, kill Pedro, and marry Henry!” I easily answered. “Your turn, Shakira, Anne Hathaway, and Emma Watson,” 

“Oh, that’s hard! That’s a tough one.” Sam remarks, deep in thought when the phone rang. 

I answered Dean’s phone call, while Sam decided on an answer. 

I put him on speaker. 

“Hey Dean, how did it go?” 

“Ok I was talking to one of the families and they mentioned the name Dana Wilson. Apparently it was one of their friends that died in a woods accident. I talked to one of the friends that are still alive and it turns out they left Dana in the woods as a joke and she got attacked by wolves or bears. They kids weren’t sure, so they left the body.” Dean exclaimed. 

“Vengeful spirit!” Both Sam and I said as we looked at each other. 

~

I really enjoyed writing for Supernatural! I'd love to write more for this fandom!

Don't forget to like and follow!

I'd love for you to request! Thank you <3

~

taglist: @annab-nana @hoodpankow  @alaynahope714  @jeyramarie  @lemur46 @taylathornton @hoelesslyt

[killemwithkawaii]

(This might get copied to my s/i info if I don’t feel like retyping so if you see it there that’s why lmao)

So I think I’m going to have diverging plots/aus that are mainly the same base, much like how my tma s/i works(which I also haven’t written down whoops). Idk if you want to hear about this but here it is so 👉👈

We’ve got your classic “no one dies” but with the caveat of “except for the cult members” but no one else has to die like in the apartment building or anything. Just some dork ass besties hanging out and occasionally dealing with ghosts. (And I mean. Also canon typical “I hate Sal’s dad fuck off what’s his name again? Henry? Fuck off Henry”)

Also my “I’m the braincell here” aka “help Sal get away with Murder” where the apartment massacre still happens (Larry doesn’t actually die though, he isn’t successful in killing himself but he’s fine from the darkness), but my s/i goes into crisis mode (which is very much take charge and plan focused) and makes sure Sal isn’t caught. (Which yes I do have a detailed plan of! Disclaimer that there are likely holes in this plan and irl it likely wouldn’t work but! First thing is to be seen in public together before the killing (in this Sal tells s/i before he actually does it). My s/i being very visible helps with this. They go to some sort of restaurant but don’t actually eat there, just order takeout and make sure they’re seen. Next they go back to s/i’s place where they loudly announce to their roommate(s) that they and Sal will be having a stay-in date in their room. When they’re in and the door is locked they instruct Sal to change into some of their old clothes they don’t care about and to leave his clothes, shoes, prosthetics, and phone in their room. He is then to sneak out the window, do the killing as needed, stay away from the cameras, and get as little blood on him as possible. After he gets back he has to put all the borrowed clothes in a plastic bag before sneaking back in. The next day s/i sets up a bonfire to burn the clothes and bag (they, much like I, love bonfires anyway so this isn’t unusual and they have materials for it), even if it doesn’t look like there’s any blood. They break the handle of the knife off from the blade and burn the surface of it clean, throwing the handle in to burn entirely.) Not actually sure if Todd is infected? Haven’t decided. If he is he’ll still get better I just don’t know if I want the extra angst. I also have like cover story stuff but that’s a bit more complicated to explain.

I have the forensic major one but it’s literally just one scene and I might just make it part of the first one? But usually I imagine my s/i as an art major because I like art and will maybe major in it when I’m able to get back into school. Hmmmm maybe forensic minor? It’s just because like. The damage a gun would cause is just?? So different from a dog?? Why does no one bring that up they are such different injuries! And the (abridged)scene is Sal showing my s/i (who probably needs a name that isn’t Matt because using that feels like I’m talking in the third person and I don’t like it) his face and they’re like “you said,,, you were attacked by a dog…?” “Yeah. Why?” “You don’t have to lie just to have an explanation Sal, I’d be perfectly happy not knowing what happened, that’s your trauma to tell or not tell.” “What are you talking about? What the hell I’m not lying.” “Sal. I’m serious, you don’t have to tell me but just say that. I’m literally in school for things like this, it is physically impossible for a dog to have done this.”(note that my interpretation of what the damage from the attack was is based on the real life case of Chrissy Steltz) “…what?” “There’s a lot of bone damage a dog couldn’t have done without causing lots of other injuries you don’t have.” “What,,, what do you think it was then?” “Sal I told you I don’t have to know, it’s clearly upsetting you, you’re shaking like a leaf.” “Please! …please tell me what you think.” “It looks like a shotgun shot hit your face.” (There’d be some hugging and crying here because it probably really fucked Sal up to not be believed by his dad when he was a kid. Seriously Henry that definitely should have been a fucking sign you pos)

Also the one with “operation save Travis” which is half formed and is just where I’m putting scenes with everyone being besties with Travis in secret. In some my s/i pretends to be a cis girl and is his beard. Idk I just think he deserves friends and a hug.

Also my Sal is trans. He’s just he/him and is a gnc trans guy, which also gives extra weight to the “Sally face” nickname and his reclamation of it. My s/i likes making fake things for “Sal” to be short for, many of which aren’t even actually names.

Sorry if this was annoying 🖤

-🌌

[relating to this post and this post]

[CW: Abuse, addiction, mental illness, death, violence, blood, injury, homophobia, gaslighting, unsanitary, lime, game spoilers, k.e.w.k. overshares]

>'Only the cult members die' aus are so valid. I mean, I love me some whump, but sometimes you gotta let the good guys have a flawless win (perhaps with the help of your s/i) 🏆✨

>Unpopular opinion: While I understand your Henry hate, as someone who also has a father who became a verbally abusive alcoholic after my mothers passing, I think it's fair to say that Henry is flawed and definitely did some fucked up shit, but he was also genuinely trying and made great improvement over the years. Yes, he lashed out at Sal in at least one instance of grief-stricken frustration and it is 1000% not cool to drink to the point that your child finds you passed tf out in the middle of the day, but he was very kind and encouraging to Sal in ch1, worked long hours to adequately support him, and it seems like he'd pretty much completely cleaned up his act by ch4- All that doesn't at all excuse his behavior, but do try to cut him just a little bit of slack. /end rant

>'Im the braincell here': Sounds like a pretty solid plan to me, though you gotta make sure to have Sal scrub himself down head to toe in the shower asap in case he got blood in his hair or on his skin, and dispose of the bonfire ash juuust in case. It might also help to leave the TV on or have a recording of you two to play in the bedroom while you're away- a completely quiet bedroom date might seem a little strange... 🤔 (some risqué audio would also explain why he's showering after sdlfkjas)

>'Forensic major': I think that the fandom collectively decided it was a dog attack pre-ch5s release because of Kenneths dog-shaped silhouette in the infamous ch2 intro scene, and has persisted because the scene of the actual attack is difficult to unlock in ch5, but I don't believe anyone actually says it was a dog attack in-game. Sal says it was a 'dog man' that did it, which sounds ridiculous, considering the wounds are clearly from a firearm, which is why Sals story was always dismissed (I also think that Henrys hostility in that flashback scene in ch5 was due to Sal not understanding what death was and frequently speaking about Diane like she was coming home. I'm sure Henry had tried to explain it to Sal more calmly multiple times before that, and that scene was when he reached his breaking point and lost his composure. Still not at all okay, but grief is an ugly thing...). Considering all that, maybe that scene in your AU should be about Sal saying he was attacked by a 'dog', your s/i knowing his wounds are clearly not from a dog attack, and after some prodding, he explains the whole story for the first time since he was shut down as a child?

>Brah I got 6+ s/is named Mitch who I talk about in third person (its weird but you get used to it lol)

>'Operation Save Travis': Hell yes! Travis needs some friends, even if they have to be kept secret, and who knows, maybe his dad will lay off him if he thinks Trav got himself a normie GF to do hetero stuff with 🤷‍♂️

>TRANS SAL TRANS SAL YES YES YES YES x10000 (here are some hcs about that if you'd like to see them~) 🚹🌈🌈🌈

>One of these days, I gotta make an ongoing list of stuff 'Sal' could be short for that are also not names... there's A Lot, and I'm sure he'd get a kick out of them lol

Thanks for sharing, 🌌 anon! I'm glad you've been having fun with all your AUs~ 🤗💖

[oddaodd]

· I Don't Go In For Sweets ·

Request: by a lovely anon "set after the events of season 3. Tommy can't handle the company, he's still grieving and he has to be there for Charlie so Polly tells him she knows a girl from a good family to get married He ends up agreeing (aunt Pol can be very persuasive) but even though he's married, this new girl isn't considered as a wife. He doesn't really make any effort but his "wife" understands, he's a widowed father who lost his first wife only a year ago. However since they are...in this, she wants to make her time as enjoyable as possible for the both of them and for Charlie too. But no matter what Tommy makes it a point of honor to not let her in, to not let her replace Grace so he ignores her, he works more, tries to spend as little as possible in the house. Reader stays patient, it will be alright and Charlie is making her quite busy anyway. One night, Tommy comes home completely drunk and maybe a bit high too, he can't even make it to his office. Thankfully Reader is still awake, she takes care of him and Tommy just...melts at how gentle Reader is, he may be able to keep his distant while sober but it's much harder in his state. He admits to her how he's been feeling and all. Ever since that night, something changed, Tommy feels some comfort, some solace being around her, she accepts him wholly, even his flaws, the bad side of his business and she tries to provide some sort of safe place for when it gets too hard." (I edited the request because it was very long, but I kept all essential parts in there)

Author’s note: I loved loved loved writing this and it ended up being SUPER long, but I’m very happy with how it turned out. As always, I hope you like it and have the loveliest of days!

Warnings: season 3 SPOILERS sort of, but not really, still read at your own risk. Arranged marriage, mentions of alcohol and drugs, angst.

·

“Thomas, you may not be able to see it, but you’re breaking apart” Polly spoke with a sigh as she lit a cigarette after everyone was dismissed from a family meeting.

Everyone had left Tommy’s office in arrow house rather gaily after receiving their fair compensations for partaking in the whole Russian ordeal, all except Polly, who remained where she sat, wishing for a word with her nephew

Tommy merely scoffed at her concern before lighting his own cigarette and taking a puff “I’ll be alright”

“And Charlie?” Pol pressed knowing Tommy’s mourning was not only affecting him, but Charlie as well. “What about him?”

“He’s fine” He said before turning around to look through the window, ignoring his Aunt’s heavy stare.

“You take too much after your mother” she sighed half angry half sad “she too loved pretending everything was alright and I don’t need to remind you where that lead her”

Tommy sighed deeply, he knew he could fool anyone. Anyone but Polly. “We’ll manage”

“Consider my offer” Polly said standing up and making her way to the door “Y/n is a good girl from a good family” she persuaded before leaving the room.

Tommy sighed at his Aunt’s words, he wasn’t ready to get married again even when he knew the woman he would be marrying was a nice one. He felt like he was spitting on Grace’s grave and he hated himself for even considering the prospect, but he knew a mother figure would be good for Charlie.

He spent the rest of the day pondering about Polly’s suggestion and remembering his own childhood in the shadow of the absent tortured presence that his mother had been. It didn’t take him long to decide he didn’t want that for Charlie, so that same night he phoned Polly.

“I’ll do it” was all he said before hanging up. There was no need for more words, Polly would know exactly what he meant.

Exactly a week later, Tom was standing in the altar of a church that was significantly smaller than the one from his first wedding. The fact that everything about this wedding was so obscenely different from his first did soothe his guilt a bit. And as he stood there he couldn’t keep his mind from traveling to the days leading up to his wedding to Grace. She had made sure everything was perfect and had made an effort to invite every single relative she could think of. She remembered her rambling on an on about fabrics, insisting that everything ought to be perfect when he in all honestly couldn’t care less, he just wanted to marry her.

All his thoughts vanished away with a poof when Y/n came into sight. And what a sight she was. She had insisted on doing her own makeup and on pinning flowers to her hair to compliment her headpiece and her elegant, yet simple white dress flowed almost mystically as her father gave her away. She had never imagined she would be marrying someone she didn’t know, but she wanted to look her best for getting married is not something people do everyday.

When she stood in the altar, she offered her to be husband a smile which he did not return, instead turning his attention to the priest before them. She mirrored his actions, her heart beating violently under her chest as the priest began speaking.

It all felt like a blur, she could swear it had only been a second since her father had given her away and yet, the priest had already uttered the dreaded “you may now kiss the bride”

Tommy barely brushed his lips against hers and soon the sound of everyone clapping invaded her ears. They had a small party afterwards in Y/n’s former house. Her parents had invited pretty much all of their acquaintances while tommy had only invited his close relatives.

When night fell Tommy was more than ready to leave “Are you ready to go?” was one of the few sentences he uttered to his now wife that night.

She again offered him a smile before saying “yeah just let me say goodbye”

The drive to arrow house was tense, although Y/n didn’t know Thomas very well she would tell he was unhappy. She wondered about what to say to him, but couldn’t come up with anything good enough and soon enough they were pulling over in front of Tommy’s stately home.

“Charlie must already be asleep, but I'll introduce you tomorrow” he said opening Y/n’s door for her.

“It’s alright” she said looking at him, not quite knowing what to do next.

“Your parents sent some of your belongings, I've already asked the maids to take them up to your-our room” he said

“Thank you, Thomas” she smiled as she walked into the big house not yet feeling close enough to him to call him Tommy.

His name falling from her lips caused an echo of bittersweet emotions to stir inside him but he masked it perfectly well as she introduced Y/n to the maids that went to the door to take their coats.

“Frances here will show you the way to the room” he said after having made introductions.

“This way, Mrs” Frances politely said.

Y/n began following her but stopped when she didn’t hear Tommy’s footsteps behind her own.

“Are you not coming?” she asked turning to look at him.

“Maybe in a bit” was all he said before he walked away down one of the many spacious hallways of the house.

After Y/n made herself comfortable in the room and changed into her nightgown she took the time to peek around the room like one always does when one is a strange place. After familiarizing herself with it she laid down in the big bed. She was nervous, she knew what happened on wedding nights. A small chuckle stopped at her lips when she recalled the stories her close already married girlfriends told her. If she hadn’t married a complete stranger she too would be looking forward to it.

Her thoughts ended up luring her to sleep after a while despite her nerves and the night went by in a ridiculously fast flash. The next morning she woke up alone and after getting ready she made her way downstairs. Tommy and Charlie were already in the dining room when she entered it.

“good morning” she said

Charlie immediately turned his attention to her, his eyes widening while his dad merely glanced at her while he muttered a “Good morning “ of his own.

Y/n sat down next to Tommy while he cleared his throat “charles, this is Y/n. We got married yesterday so she’ll be living with us from now on”

Charlie merely nodded in understanding before playing around with his food.

A tense air flooded breakfast until Tommy stood up, having barely touched his food and spoke turning to look at Y/n “I have to go now, if you need anything feel free to ask Frances”

“Alright” Y/n replied feeling a bit disappointed, she would love to get to know him, but she already knew it was going to be difficult.

“I have to go too” Charlie announced in a timid voice, interrupting Y/n’s thoughts. Despite her disappointment she understood, maybe he was just shy and his dad just reticent. They had lost a wife and a mother after all.

The first few days after that, Charlie avoided her nearly as much as his father did and Y/n remained in lonely patience until one night Charlie’s cries interrupted her focus on the book that she had just bought. She rushed to his room and called out his name as she entered not knowing if the boy would be comfortable with her or not.

“What is it?” she asked worried as she knelt by his bed.

“I miss my mum” the boy confessed looking at her with teary eyes as he clutched his blanket.

Y/n felt her heart give a small ache at his confession and in an attempt to comfort him she spoke “She’s not really gone, you know?”

“She’s dead” the boy sobbed.

“but people who die, don’t leave us. Not really anyhow” she said hesitantly rubbing his arm. “just because we cant see them doesn’t mean they are not here”

“I miss seeing her” he continued.

“Oh but you can still see her”

“how”

“before you go to bed just think about her, then she’ll visit you in your dreams” Y/n spoke as if she was telling a fairy tale.

“really?” the boy’s eyes widened.

“really” Y/n confirmed “But you have to think really really hard”

“I’ll try” Charlie said having calmed down a bit.

“very well” Y/n said as she stood up, but Charlie’s voice stopped her.

“can you stay till I fall asleep?”

After that night, Charlie hardly left Y/n’s side and she felt much better with his company for she was sure if he wasn’t there keeping her on her toes all day she would fall into a depressive chasm induced by her husband’s absence.

On the rare moments he was home she tried to strike up conversation with him over breakfast or late at night when he came home and she was burdened by insomnia. But Tommy only humored her with a few short responses before excusing himself or turning to face the other side of the bed.

It wasn’t only the fact that he avoided her as much as he could, but he also made it a priority to exclude her at all times. She was never invited into family meetings or night’s at The Garrison so she thought it was a miracle when tommy didn’t oppose to her planning Charlie’s birthday party.

She invited only Tommy’s family which instantly warmed up to her, noticing what a good influence she was and Polly wanted to slap Thomas for the way he had been acting throughout his marriage to Y/n. Almost feeling guilty for getting her into this mess.

When the party ended Tommy shut himself in his office like he often did when he was at home and though he had never given Y/n a reason to believe she was welcome in there of all places, she found herself allowing herself in after putting Charlie to bed.

Tommy looked up as she entered and let out a sigh before turning his attention back to some papers he had been reading.

“I noticed you didn’t have any” she commented not letting his sigh deflate her as she laid a plate with a slice of homemade chocolate cake on his desk. “it’s really good if I may say so myself” she mused sitting down in a chair opposite to his as she dug in with a fork in her own slice.

“I don’t go in for sweets” he stated.

“Not even chocolate?” Y/n tried, but tommy didn’t answer, instead he just shook his head.

“I still think you should try it, it’s not overly sweet, and…”

“is there anything you need?” he interrupted bluntly a bit harsher than he would’ve liked.

His tone caught her off guard and when she couldn’t come up with an answer tommy again turned his attention back to his papers.

“I wish you could let me in” She softly confessed after a few tense seconds.

“Well I wish we hadn’t married but I guess things don’t always go the way we want them to go”

Tommy knew he had crossed a line by the silence that again settled into the room. He looked up at Y/n with her parted lips and misty eyes. They exchanged glances for a second but instead of allowing him to see her like that any longer, she stood up setting her plate on his desk and walked away, only allowing a few tears to drop by when she was out of the room and his sight.

After that she stopped trying to get closer to him. He still loved his late wife and she understood, people in grief never mean what they say after all, but his words stung nonetheless.

She stopped trying to wait for him at night to see if he had gotten home alright and during breakfast she only uttered polite good mornings.

One night however, Y/n was yanked out of a peaceful sleep by a loud crash. She was on her feet in no time and after checking into Charlie’s room to see if he was alright she cautiously ventured downstairs. A few incoherent mumbles filled her ears before her husband came into sight, fumbling with his coat to get it off.

“need help?” she asked earning his attention.

“I’m fine” he said finally taking it off but as he went to take a step to begin walking the floor under him moved and he lost his balance, his knees crashing loudly against the wooden floor.

Y/n offered him a hand and helped him up. He smelled of whiskey and cigarettes, his hands were shaky, consequence of the snow, no doubt. “let’s get you upstairs”

“I can do it on me own” he slurred letting go of her hand.

“stop being so stubborn” she derided, snaking one of her arms around his waist as she helped him upstairs.

Y/n helped him into bed, tookoff his shoes and went to the bathroom to fetch a small towel and some cold water.

She dampened the towel with the cold water before dabing it gently on Tommy’s forehead. His eyes never leaving her face as she did so, making her grow a bit nervous. She continued, trying her best to ignore it until she felt his hand softly caressing her cheek.

“You are beautiful” he rasped.

“Stop it, Thomas” she said feeling her cheeks grow red when she felt a bit sad that he had to be completely drunk to compliment her.

Even in his drunken state he seemed to notice he was making her uncomfortable so he held his tongue until Y/n laid in bed next to him after turning on the lights.

“I’m sorry” he interrupted the silence “For the way I’ve been acting” the whiskey and cocaine making him more vulnerable and open “I guess I was afraid that if I let you in then she would disappear”

He didn’t expect her to answer, but then her voice came in a soft exhausted tone“ I don’t intend to replace her. You don’t need to act all defensive and secretive. Even if it’s not what you wanted, we are married.”

“I Know” was all he said.

Y/n expected him to withdraw more from her after showing himself that vulnerable to her that night but she was wrong. He began arriving home earlier, sometimes even asking if he could come along on the walks she and Charlie so much adored going on. And Y/n finally felt her marriage was going somewhere maybe it wasn’t based on love yet, but it was something.

One day she was at the stables while Charlie was taking a nap. She had always adored horses.

“I didn’t know you liked horses” came Tommy’s smooth voice causing her to jump.

“You never asked” she smiled petting a black horse as he walked closer to her.

“We could go out for a ride, I’m sure Charlie wouldn’t mind letting you borrow his horse” Tommy offered as he too began to pet the horse, his fingers brushing against Y/n’s for a brief second.

“I’d love to, but I am afraid I don’t know how to ride, Tommy” she said, panicking for a second after having called him that. But she rested assured as soon as he spoke again.

“Well that can be fixed” he said opening the door of the stall and guiding the horse outside.

“You mean now?” Y/n asked with a laugh.

“Got something better to do?” he asked walking out of the stable with the horse. Y/n observed tommy as he prepared the horse. She had never seen him so gentle and calm before and she only realized she had been staring when Tommy directed his attention to her to ask her if she was ready.

“I think so” she said going to stand next to the horse wondering how the hell to climb up. But before she had any more time to think she felt Tommy’s hands on her waist giving her a push that allowed her to pull herself up on the animal. It was a good thing she had chosen to wear slacks that day, she thought.

“Goodness this is high” she said nervously looking down at Tommy when he began guiding the horse to move in a slow walk.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall” he promised repressing a mirthful tone at her nervousness.

He guided the horse with her around the property in the crisp evening air and Y/n allowed herself to relax with every step the horse took. Tommy’s presence made her feel safe and protected and she found it increasingly harder to look away from his figure. She wondered if he could feel her eyes on him.

When the sky began turning soft shades of purple and orange the pair returned to the stables. When the time came from Y/n to come down from the horse, tommy helped her again. Y/n began to love the feeling of him touching her and when her feet touched the ground in front of Thomas, he didn’t remove his hands from her waist right away and instead fixed his blue eyes on her, not wanting to stop looking at her.

She too fixed her eyes on Tommy as she felt a silent gasp in the base of her throat. That was the way she would’ve liked him to look at her on their wedding day. Tommy then leaned in, almost as if he were asking for permission before he tenderly pressed his lips to Y/n’s.

·

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @writeroutoftime @babylooneytoonz @slytherinicequeen @lilymurphy03

[koushou]

hey can i request a oneshot or hc for megumi, thank you 😩❤️

insufferable

pairing : megumi fushiguro x f!reader {small angst + fluff}

warnings : reader injury, gojo being a perv

word count : 3k

a/n : thank u for requesting! i'm a sucker for enemies to lovers, so this was fun to write, i hope you enjoy !

he’s been your rival for as long as you could remember, it was always some kind of competition between the both of you. although, the feeling you both feel for each other, is it truly as simple as hatred? 

Insufferable.

It was the only way to describe the dark haired boy standing in front of you, a smug grin playing on his lips.

“Alright, calm down, you two,” your teacher’s voice rang over to where you were standing as he made his way over.

Gojo sighs, running a hand through his hair as he eyes the both of you. 

“What did I say abo-”

“He clearly had a head start!” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, glaring down your rival across from you.

“Are you accusing me of cheating?” He raises his eyebrows at you tauntingly.

“Anyone could tell that you ran before sensei blew the whistle!” 

“Maybe you should stop focusing on me, and work on bettering your own abilities instead.” He rolls his eyes while starting to walk away, obviously getting bored of the conversation.

“You—!” 

“Okay, okay, come on,” Gojo leads you away before you could tackle the boy with his back turned to you.

Megumi Fushiguro.

Your life-long rival, you guys had been by each other’s side for as long as you could remember.

Not that you wanted to remember, you hated him. And so did he.

Everything was a competition between the both of you, and although you would die before admitting it, your constant battles did improve you as a jujutsu sorcerer.

When you both found out you were going to be attending Jujutsu Tech together, you personally saw it as an opportunity to fight him even more, to prove that you were the stronger one, while Megumi-

Well, he didn’t care. He never cared about anything, anyway.

“Come on, we’re heading to the mission location,” Gojo begins to walk ahead of you, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You let out a sigh, wishing you could be in the safe confines of your room instead of fighting alongside your least favorite person in the whole world.

“Sensei, what are the curses’ grades?” You ask after the tall white-haired man, who was getting into the front passenger seat of a black car.

“They said it would be a couple Grade 3’s, nothing too much,” the older man yawns, stretching his arms over his head before cursing as they bump against the car’s roof.

“They also mentioned a special grade or something, I don’t really remember,” Gojo slams the car door shut, leaving you to roll your eyes at the man’s irresponsibility.

About to make your way to the car as well, you stumble as a force pushed you from behind, turning around as you get ready to attack whoever was-

“Try not to die to a couple Grade 3’s, alright?” Megumi smirks down at your fuming expression, before making his way to the car.

“I mean, I know they can be quite a hassle for you, but take your time.”

Inhaling sharply, you massage your temples with one hand, trying to suppress your frustration and holding back from tackling the boy to the ground.

“He’s so immature.” Nobara, one of your closest friends at Jujutsu Tech, comes up to you, rolling her eyes at the boy.

“Ignore him, let’s have some meat buns when we get back.” She sends you a wink before walking towards the car, to which you respond with a laugh.

There will be meat buns waiting when I get back, you thought to yourself, licking your lips unconsciously. It will be worth it, snuggling up back in your fluffy blankets, binging your newest favorite show that was airing today-

“You coming or not?” A voice breaks you from your daydream, snapping your head up.

“Ah, are you scared? Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” Megumi smiles at you mockingly, chuckling as he shoves his hands into his pockets and entering the car in the back seats.

Ah.

This was going to be a long day.

-

“We’re here,” Gojo announces, unlocking the car door to get out. 

You all exit the car, stretching as you take note of your surroundings.

The mission assigned this time was to eliminate a couple curses who had sneaked their way into an elementary school. The students were still inside, so you had to be extra careful with fighting.

“Well then, let’s head in.”

Starting to make your way toward the school entrance, a small groan from the side halts you all in your tracks.

A green, slimy creature emerges from the bushes, crawling on its legs as it stares up at all of you.

It leaps forward suddenly, lunging at you, as you raise your sword in time to block it, slicing it in half in one swift motion.

It lets out a final groan as it drops to the ground, melting into a green blob.

“Not too bad, you actually killed it.” Megumi raises an eyebrow in amusement as you clean your sword of any of its remains.

“Thanks for the compliment.” You snarl at him sarcastically, drawing another sigh from Gojo.

You all continue making your way to the school’s front doors, when suddenly your teacher holds an arm out, stopping all of you.

“Shh, listen.”

There was a quiet voice- no, many voices coming from down the hallway of the school. The building was filled with black smoke, restricting your views of where the sounds were coming from.

It sounded as if the many voices were chanting a curse or spell of some sort, and you all knew instantly.

This couldn’t be the doings of a grade 3.

It had to be a special curse.

Gojo steps forward slowly, entering the black smoke as he checks the left hallway, before returning and nodding to you that it was safe.

You nod, slowly making your way into the school as well, turning to check the right hallway. 

The black smoke almost made it hard to breathe, you trying your best to swat away any smoke making your eyes tear up.

The chanting became louder as you entered the hallway, and you saw a figure standing in the middle.

Your breath catches in your throat, ready to turn and tell Gojo what you saw, but could you really describe what it was?

It stood at least two feet above you, with gray skin mixed with red blotches here and there and multiple arms hanging by its side. Horns and unidentifiable liquids stuck to its skin, with its mouth hanging open. It had the sharpest teeth you’d ever seen on a curse- no, you’d ever seen in your life- and drool pooled at the corners of its lips, if you could even call them lips, before dripping down its chin, staining the marble floor.

It continued to chant its spell, however it sounded as if the voices were in your head, in your eardrums, echoing through your brain. 

You could hear your name being called from behind you, probably Gojo, but the chants were getting louder, louder, and louder until the special grade was standing right before you, its tall figure looming over you.

Snap out of it, you thought to yourself, trying to shake its voice out of your head, commanding your legs to move. To turn back. To run.

Finally you felt your legs listening to you, and you turned around and ran. Ignoring the pattering footsteps of the creature following close behind you, you ran as fast as you could.

Finally, you could see the light at the entrance, where you all had been before, and you could almost see their faces, until-

“Y/N—!” 

A sharp pain shot through your stomach.

Ah, that voice.

The voice of your rival who had been competing with you, fighting with you, for your whole life.

It was like it all happened in slow motion, like in the movies.

Megumi and the others stood before you, with a horrified expression as their eyes travelled down, down to your stomach.

You followed their gaze, a dark crimson stain beginning to seep through your uniform, a sharp horn stabbed from the back, right through your body.

Ah, this was it. That jerk was right, huh? I am weak after all.

At that moment, your body went limp. All feelings left your limbs, leaving you to free fall forward, eyes closing as you begin to lose consciousness.

But not before you felt a pair of arms wrap around you, stopping you from the impact.

“Y/N! Wake up, come on, wake up—!”

Why do you keep shouting? You’re so loud, be quiet.

“You can’t do this, wake up— please—“

I told you to be quiet, geez, let me sleep already.

And the last crumb of consciousness left your body.

-

A horrible thumping pain in your head. Hushed voices from next to you. Fingers entangled with yours.

Wait- fingers?

It had never been so hard to open your eyes, wincing as a bright light from above hits you directly. 

Taking a moment to adjust, you finally looked around your surroundings.

It seemed as if you were in a hospital room, long tubes connected to your arms, hands, legs, making it hard for you to move at all.

You notice a doctor and Gojo speaking by the door, but what shocked you was the sleeping boy by your bed.

The sunlight seeping through the window shines on his slender face perfectly, dark strands of hair framing his sleeping face, one you could’ve almost teased him for until you notice his hands. Your hands. 

His fingers entangled with yours by your side, the warmth from his palm radiating through yours as the rise and fall from his breathing caused his hands to move slightly every time.

You wished you could snap a picture of this right now, but the comforting feeling of his hands against yours made you not want to move an inch.

“Ah, you’re awake, Y/N,” You recognized your teacher’s voice as he makes his way over to your bed with a relieved smile.

You feel the boy wake up with a jolt, eyes blinking to focus themselves, before settling on yours and widening. 

It was only then that he became aware of your entangled hands, quickly pulling away and coughing to cover the slight pink spreading across his cheeks.

“How are you feeling?” The doctor next to Gojo asks, holding a clipboard in his hands.

“Just a bit sore in my ribs, but nothing too much.” Megumi glances in your direction, and you would’ve thought it was out of concern before mentally slapping yourself at the absurdity of it.

“Alright, we’ll need to keep you here for a few weeks,” the doctor says, noting something on his clipboard. “I’ll be right back, we still need to give you a check-up.”

He leaves the room, and Gojo takes a seat on the other side of your bed, across from Megumi.

“I’m glad you’re alright, Y/N,” he sighs, before leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head.

“Good thing you were brought back in time, doc says that any longer and the injury would’ve been more severe.” 

You nod, facing your teacher, “Thank you sensei, I should’ve been more careful.”

He shakes his head, “It was a special grade, my fault for not notifying you all earlier.”

A grin spreads across his face, leaning forward slowly in his seat. 

“But I’m not the one you should be thanking.” He nods his head slightly to your left, making you turn to see a coughing Megumi, who suddenly thought his shoes were the most interesting things in the world.

Gojo chuckles, patting your shoulder as he gets up to leave.

“I’ll leave you two alone, Megumi take care of her, alright?”

Even behind the blindfold, you could sense that he was sending a wink your way.

The boy only grumbles in response, fiddling with his hands nervously.

You stare at him, before bursting out in laughter.

His head shoots up, furrowing his eyebrows as he looks at you still laughing.

“What’s with that gloomy look? Don’t tell me…” 

You tilt your head at him, a smirk spreading across your face.

“Aww, are you worried about me, ‘gumi?” 

The use of the nickname you made for him makes him scoff, turning away from you.

“As if. Just wondering about how stupid you were to get yourself hurt.”

He bites his lips for a moment, as if pondering his next words.

“And stop laughing so hard, what—”

Megumi stops and looks away.

“—what if your wound opens again?” He murmurs quietly, but you managed to catch it.

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, before chuckling at him teasingly, “So you are worried about me, liar.”

“Am not!”

“You totally are.”

“Keep lying to yourself.”

With a sigh, you close your eyes, refusing to argue with the boy any longer.

“By the way, what did sensei mean before? That you were the one I should be thanking?”

You open your eyes, waiting for his answer.

His eyes widen the slightest bit, before looking away once again.

“...s’nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You raise your eyebrows at him, confused.

He shakes his head, showing that he wasn’t going to answer.

Groaning, you roll your eyes at his childish behavior, “God- you’re so infuriating sometimes, why—”

“When you fainted, I carried you all the way to the hospital, okay?! On my own damn legs, I ran all the way here, I don’t know why I did, but I did so stop asking—!”

Megumi shouts, panting as he finishes talking with an unreadable look in his eyes.

You gape at him slightly, still trying to register his words.

“You...carried me here? Why didn’t you just take the car?”

He scoffs, “The car is way too slow, I would be faster. Plus, your injury would’ve gotten worse so you should thank me.”

He eyes you, searching for any emotions on your face, but all you felt was confusion at the moment.

A few beats of silence pass, and Megumi sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“Well? At least say something.” He mumbles, shifting his feet on the floor.

You just look at him, not believing what he said, before laughing softly.

“Man, ‘gumi, if I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought you liked me so much that you were scared that I would die.” 

You teased him, expecting a scoff or an insult thrown back of some sort, but he just rolls his bottom teeth in between his teeth, not making eye contact.

“...so what if I do?” He finally says, so softly that you wouldn’t have heard if he wasn’t so close to you.

Wait, why was he so close to you—

The distance between you two closed as he leaned forward to meet your lips with his. The kiss was slow, inexperienced, but honest and passionate. 

Your eyes widened in shock, while his were screwed tight, afraid to open and meet yours.

A contrast to his appearance and personality, his lips were soft, fitting snugly against yours, the taste of him sweet, like cherries.

After a few seconds, he pulls away hesitantly, sitting back down in the chair.

The tension was so thick in the room, not even a knife could cut through it.

It was awkward for a few beats before he spoke.

“I-uh, sorry, I don’t know why I did that,” he rubs the back of his neck, a heavy pink dusting his cheeks.

“It..it’s fine, it was nice,” you spoke softly, almost whispering.

His head shot up, facing you. “You liked it?” 

You bit the inside of your cheeks, before nodding, slowly meeting his gaze. 

“Thank you, for saving me.” 

A small smile spreads across his lips. Not a teasing one he would use when he was making fun of you, not a fake one, no. This was different.

Megumi was genuinely smiling at you like you were the most amazing thing he’s ever seen before.

“No problem,” he speaks, before slowly reaching for your hand.

Watching you with a careful gaze for any signs of discomfort, he intertwines his fingers with yours, giving it a small squeeze.

“... I was scared, you know?” He sighs, eyes never leaving your face.

“Scared that… I would lose the one person I care about.” You flush at his words.

“I know, I treat you like you’re below me all the time, like you’re weak, but I-“ He clears his throat, not wanting to mess this up. He only had one chance after all.

“-I do care about you, and I get happy whenever we fight against each other, or with each other. I was scared that- that I would lose the most important person in my life.”

You couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face, one part of you wanting to tease him like usual, but the other part of you, wanted to do something else.

You tug on his hand that was still holding yours, making him lean forward as you met his lips halfway.

The kiss was a little longer this time, you didn’t have to use words to convey your feelings. He knew. And you knew, too.

Pulling away at last, you lightly flicked his forehead, causing him to pout and rub the sore spot.

You giggle, looking down at your intertwined hands.

“I care about you too, Megumi. A lot. I always have.”

You smile.

“And I always will.”

He smiles widely, leaning forward once again until you hear muffled voices on the other side of the door.

“Do you think they’re having s-”

“Sensei! Stop being so loud, they might hear you—“

The door suddenly slams open with Nobara and Gojo tumbling onto the floor. 

Silence.

Laughing awkwardly, they finally stand up, nudging the other to speak.

“I- she- uh, we- woah—!” Gojo gasps dramatically at the sight of your hands together.

“So you were having s-”

Both of you flush at the same time, shouting at him.

“We weren’t—!”

You all burst out laughing, feeling Megumi squeeze your hand softly.

Gosh, making you feel butterflies in your stomach like this?

Megumi Fushiguro was truly insufferable.

[writeawaythepain]

A Murderer and a Thief

Yancy x (gn!reader)

I rewatched Hesit for the billionth time, and I’ve been having a lot of Yancy brain rot, so all of this just kinda happened. This is the first part of a much bigger fic I'm working on, so expect more parts soon!

tw: a little violence

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: With Mark out of commission for the time being, you're stuck in prison. Though maybe you come to realize you don’t hate it here as much as you thought you would.

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

    “Why did you even give me the helicopter as an option!?” You yell back at him as the sirens grow louder. “I assumed, since you pointed it out, you could fly-” but your voice is cut short as you hear voices from outside. 

    “Come out with your hands up! We’ve got you completely surrounded!” A voice announced through some sort of speaker. You and Mark sigh, aggravated, and you give him one last look of malice before following their instructions. 

.  .  .

    In the cop car, Mark can’t help but start the argument up again. “I don’t even know why I always trust you to make all the decisions.” He grumbles.

You scoff at him, “Oh yea, ‘cause it’s totally unreasonable to pick a speedier, flying vehicle over a car.”

“Not when you can’t FLY IT!” He snaps back.

“I thought it was part of the plan! Why else would there just be a helicopter outside, in a field, in the middle of nowhere-” You start, voice rising with every word.

“You. Wrote. THE PLAN.” He yells, exasperated. His handcuffs clinging as he shakes his hands at you in frustration.

“Both of you back there, quiet down!” A voice from the front shouts. The both of you glare at each other before you turn your heads away, avoiding eye contact. You didn’t actually blame Mark for all of this, and you know he didn’t actually blame you either. You were just so close, so damn close to stealing the box without a hitch, and something just had to go wrong. 

You stare out the window, trying to enjoy probably the last views of the outside you might get in a while. You can’t help but frown. You knew there was always a risk in your line of work. But you were always so careful…You'd gotten cocky. It was supposed to be a simple job. In, and then out. But you and Mark just had to make a flashy exit.

You sigh, I guess this was what you deserved. For being cocky, that is. You had no remorse for stealing little trinkets here and there from the rich people that wiped their asses with the money that could feed hungry kids. Half the money you and Mark made from your heists you gave away to charities anyway. You two were proud of your work, and man was it fucking fun. The thrill of a good heist was never lost on you, no matter how many times you’ve pulled them.

But…there was a little voice in your head that had gotten louder as you grew closer and closer to your new ‘home.’ A little voice that wishes you didn’t have to worry about being chased by cops, or going to prison. You were starting to get a little…tired. Maybe you’d bring up the idea of retiring at some point, up to Mark. But, you pushed those thoughts out of your head. 

For now, you had a prison to break out of…

.  .  .

    After having all your stuff taken away, both you and Mark look longingly at the box as the warden snatches it out of sight. The both of you are left standing in the middle of what looks like a cafeteria. You both stand still, awkwardly shuffling, as the air between you was still thick with tension. The argument in the car, not yet forgotten.

Mark is the first to look up at you and break the unbearable silence. “Hey…no hard feelings, right? I got mad, you got mad…but in the end, we’re still partners…right?”

You smile, any negative feelings about the argument instantly evaporates as you reach out a hand to him. “Partners,” you reply. He returns the smile, back to his normal, giddy, self. He takes your hand and returns the gesture, squeezing your hand both to comfort you, and himself. After a moment, you both let go, and Mark clears his throat.

“Alright, so what’s our plan? Do we cozy up to the guards, or rally the prisoners to our cause? The guards seem pretty dumb, and the prisoners seem even dumber, so it’s up to you.” He gestures his hands as he talks, but you don’t even have to consider the options. 

“We’ll try to get help from the prisoners. I’m not ‘cozing’ up to no guards around here, I still have my dignity! We’re the 21st century Robin Hood, remember? We can’t just bend to the ‘man’  the second we’re in some trouble!” You use air quotes to emphasize your point, but Mark just looks at you, face completely unamused at your dramatics. You do hear one of the prisoners though, who must have overheard you, chuckle to themselves. You smile, glad at least someone appreciated your showmanship.

“Ok, alright, well- If we want to get the prisoners on our side, we’ll have to earn their  respect.” Mark starts, focusing back on making a plan. “And I know a thing or two about respect.” He smiles cockily, and you roll your eyes. You already had a feeling this wasn’t going to go well, but before you can stop him, Mark marches over to THE tallest prisoner in the room.

“Hey, you! I want to talk about respect! It's something that we've been really missing here lately.” He points a finger at the taller man, and pokes him in the chest to really show his point. Oh god, he’s going to get himself killed. You quickly start to make your way over to the two of them, but before you can intervene and save your poor idiot, he’s punched so hard he flies through the wall behind him. 

The wall is instantly patched up, and you watch in horror as Mark completely disappears from sight. What the actual fu-

The lights go dark, and you start to hear rhythmic snapping. You look around, confused, until you hear a deep voice from behind you.

“Break out? Of this place?” You spin to see a man sitting on top of a lunch table. On beat with the snaps, he’s illuminated by a spotlight, and a few other prisoners spin him around to face you. Your eyes widen, and you take a step back. What IS this place?! Were you dreaming? Did you die!? What was-

The man continues his song, dancing around the prison, introducing you to all the luxuries of prison life. You were swept along by the other prisoners and said nothing as you were entranced by this strange man and his sultry voice that was starting to grow on you. They took you outside, and you’re pretty sure one of them stabbed a guard, but you were still too much in a state of shock to really react to anything. If anything, you’re pretty sure you laughed.

Somehow you’d ended up in a laundry basket, the strange man pushes you through a hall, and admits to you, he killed his mom?! You feel a tinge of sympathy for him, but are once again whisked away, this time to watch their grand finale. At least, that's what you think it is. You had no real idea what was going on, and at this point you stopped questioning it and were instead just enjoying the show.

“♪ 'Cause I don't wanna be free ♪” The hats and lights are gone, and you blink, wondering if you had imagined it. You start to clap, and the man smiles. You stop as he starts walking towards you, suddenly remembering what had happened to Mark. Nervously, you stood up straight, trying not to give off an aura of weakness. No matter how nice the song had made this place sound, it was still a prison. And no matter how cute and good at singing this strange man was, he was a murderer, and you didn’t know if you could trust him yet. Finally, he addresses you, voice thick with a Brooklyn accent.

“So, tell me, ‘Robin Hood’…” You stutter at the nickname. “Youse still wanna be free?” You look at him, surprise evident on your face. You didn’t really know what to say. Of course, you wanted to escape, but, with Mark hurt… Either way, if this guy could help, you weren’t going to lie to him.

“Listen man…you make a lot of intriguing points, and the whole song and dance routine was fantastic, but- I’m not really the kind of person who can stay in one place for a long time anymore, you know? I’ve felt trapped for long enough. Freedom is one thing I’ve been fighting my whole life for…and…I can’t just give up on it now. You wouldn’t clip a bird of its wings, no matter how nice the birdhouse was…right?” You look up at him, surprised when you saw his eyes soften. 

“I, too, once cared about my freedom…” He starts, a reminiscing look on his face. “I once cared abouts it so much I…I done did things I thinks I regret.” He looks down, avoiding your gaze. Was he...crying…?

“But, I’m telling youse! It’s not all it's wrapped up ta be. Youse thinks youse’s all free but, youse can’t really escape whateva it is youse running from, when youse running from youse’s own self. It’s best to just moves on and forgets it all…The past ain't the kind of thing to be trifled with…” There's a sad and desperate look on his face, but he quickly shakes it away.

“So, what’s it gonna be, huh? Youse gonna stick with us, or go out on your own to youse’s so-called freedom.” You don’t know what exactly came over you, but in your attempt to convince the prisoners you were tough, you think it might have gotten to your head. Because In response to his question, you flip him off. His face morphs into one of surprise, and then offense at your crude gesture.

Fuck. You probably should have thought that through a bit more, but who was this guy to tell you what to do?! He can’t just keep you here with a charming song and dance routine, and a heart melting smile, and a cute accent- Focus man, focus.

“Oh, so it's like that, huh?” It takes all your willpower not to take a step back as he rolls his shoulders and take a step closer to you. He starts to go on a tangent about something about his dad, but all you can hear it the blood pumping into your ears as you ready yourself for what you knew was about to come. You’d been in a few street fights before, but you’d be lying if this guy didn’t intimidate you a bit. You’re snapped back to your senses for a second as he- did he just call you handsome and/or beautiful?

You're caught off guard as he makes the first swing, but you manage to block it, only taking a minimum amount of damage. You go on the defensive for a few more moments, as the ex-theater kid lands a few more hits on you. But as soon as he slows down to catch his breath, you take the opportunity to wail on him with all you got. Starting with a few quick jabs and ending with a fury of blows fueled by your fear of dying to a guy with a smiling box tattoo on his neck.

You end the fight, punching him square in the jaw, and he falls backwards into a group of the other prisoners. You smirk, proud of yourself. That one's for Mark. 

The smirk falls off your face as fast as it came, though, as the other prisoners turn to you with fury in their eyes. You were surprised you could even take on the singing guy, there was no way you could take the rest of them on! Especially not all at the same time!

You take a step back, completely prepared to turn tail it out of there, but you stop as the man you had just knocked out got up again, waving to the others to back down. 

“Wait! Wait, wait, wait. Maybe I was wrong about you.” He gets up, stumbling as he does. You wince as you see how much you’ve busted up his face. His voice gets soft again, “Maybe…maybe I was wrong about a lot of things.” 

He looks up at you, “Look it's too late for me, it’s too late for us. But I can see you have something worth fighting for out there.” He puts his hand out towards you, and all you can do is stare at it. “So, what do you say?” You look him right in the eyes, confused. You’d just beaten the shit out of this guy, right after flipping him off- and he just, wanted to forgive you? Just like that? 

You searched his eyes for any sign that this was some sort of trick. This guy just admitted to murdering both of his parents, but you were supposed to believe he could just have such a quick change of heart? Yeah, right.

But all you see in his eyes is genuine kindness, and the remanence of a complicated and painful life. “Hey, come on, don’t leave me hangin’, Yes or no?” He seemed nervous for your answer. All the anger he had directed at you was all but gone, and even if you knew it probably wasn’t a smart decision…Aw, what the heck-

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

[Part 2]

[Masterlist]

[songbirdstyles]

let it bleed

summary: you’re on your period, and harry just wants to make you feel good.

warnings: smut, shower sex, period sex, clothed sex/grinding, fingering

word count: 6.8k words

song inspo: let it bleed - the rolling stones (aren’t i funny)

Waking up on Saturday is generally a blissful experience - sleeping in until the day feels nearly gone, lounging with Harry around the house or heading outside when the weather permits it - sure, every day in quarantine could be chalked up to just another Saturday but there’s something different about the actual day itself. Harry’s usually awake entirely too early during the week, sitting at the kitchen table with his headphones in, suffering through meetings with producers and managers for much longer than what could possibly be bearable. And you’re generally holed up at your desk, trying not to fucking die of boredom as you sit through useless Zoom sessions and assignments given by superiors who don’t understand technology - needless to say, you’d rather waste your days wrapped in Harry’s arms than sitting through that.

This Saturday, though, wakes you up a few hours later than you usually would, Harry’s head pressed into your chest, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, fingers clutched tight on the oversized t-shirt you’d donned to bed. Chestnut curls brush the end of your nose and a sleepy smile tilts your lips upwards as your eyes crack open, squinting up at the ceiling of your bedroom, only dimly aware of the low stream of early morning light shining through the window beside your bed.

You never usually wake this early, do you? No, you don’t, and you tilt your head to glare at the clock mounted on the wall across the room from you. It’s 4:56, a whole 5 hours before you’d ever even consider getting out of bed, and, yet, your body had forced you awake for seemingly no reason. You could be curling yourself up in Harry’s arms, legs around his torso and arms around his neck as his snores ring in your ears like a lullaby, except -

There’s a dull pain in your abdomen, right above your belly button, twisting your insides with just enough force to rip a soft groan from your lips. It’s a feeling you recognize entirely too well, cramps throttling your uterus like they’re trying to fucking murder you and you’re sure that, whenever you muster the energy to pull yourself out of bed and waddle over to the bathroom, you’ll see the physical proof of exactly what’s causing it.

Harry stirs against your chest, arm tightening around your waist until his forearm is pressed to your abdomen, face pushing further into your boobs as though it’s intentional. You stare down at him for a moment - perhaps he’ll crack an eye open, lips turning up, just to see how you’d reacted - but, no, he’s truly asleep. Dead asleep, you’d assume as you lift a hand to run through his messy hair and he doesn’t move at the motion.

You hate untangling yourself from him, almost always forcing him awake, but you suppose it’s repercussions for him being such a damn cuddler - not that you’d dream of complaining.

Slowly your fingers wrap around his wrist, his fingertips still held tight onto your shirt (or is it his? You never truly know, sometimes) as though it’s some sort of lifeline - still, it’s easy enough to pull his hand from your clothes, reaching over to rest his arm against the side of his body and he hardly stirs at the disruption. 

Of course, the next part is destined to be much less graceful and significantly more disruptive to your loving boyfriend, resting like a sleeping angel, practically on top of you - you press your palm to the side of the bed next to you and use it as leverage to roll out of his embrace, pausing once you land on your back to see if he wakes.

(At the same time, you feel a familiar swooping sensation in the pit of your tummy that - isn’t pleasant, to say the very least, and you scrunch your nose up at the feeling.)

That seemed to do the trick - Harry drops flat on his face on top of the mattress and wakes with a jolt as though you’d doused him with water, pushing himself onto his forearms just as you stand up, stretching your arms high above your head with a sigh.

“What’reyoudoin’?” he slurs out, voice dripping with raspiness and sleep and you look back just as he drops his head back onto the pillow. You could fool yourself into thinking he’s gone back to bed until he lifts his head up, eyebrow raised just so. “Come back, babe - s’so early -”

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you tell him, sliding your feet into your Santa slippers before making your way across the bedroom towards the bathroom, its door creaked open just so. You pause once you pass your dresser and open the top drawer, grabbing a fresh pair of panties and balling them up in your fist. “You can go back to bed - I’ll be back in a minute.”

“I’ll wait,” he insists, eyes already drooping shut as you close the bathroom door behind you, shuffling over to the toilet as you wince at the discomfort. You certainly hadn’t needed any sort of confirmation to affirm your suspicion but you still get one - blood stains your panties, your sleep shorts mercifully spared, and you kick them off your legs, balling the blood-soaked panties with a grimace. 

It takes only a minute or two to clean yourself up, and when you’ve put in a tampon and pulled on your new panties and sleep shorts, you rifle through the bathroom cabinet searching for the small bottle of painkillers that your abdomen yearns for - there’s few pills left, used mainly for this time of the month, and you shake three into your palm and pop them into your mouth. It’ll take a while to kick in - twenty minutes, usually, and that’s if you get lucky - but you’ll hopefully be fast asleep in Harry’s arms during that time. They’re not horrible, anyway, your cramps - usually they’re worse, and you’re sure they’ll pain you more as the day progresses, but at least you can take pills now to settle them.

You flick the light switch so the room basks itself in darkness before heading back into your bedroom, eyes landing on Harry’s figure, duvet pushed down to just above his hips, arms stretched high above his head. Even in the dim light of the room, illuminated solely by the rising sun that peeps through the window, you can see the way his eyes follow you - instead of walking around the bed to your side, you stop beside him, reaching down to run your fingers through his curls.

“Tha’s nice,” Harry murmurs, moving his head up further into your grasp and you grin. “Are y’comin’ back t’bed, then?”

“Yeah, sure,” you reply, voice soft, and hardly one minute ago it had been your intent to crawl into bed beside him and sleep off the first morning of your period but you’re feeling an entirely different urge, now, gaze locking with his for just a moment, and he raises his eyebrows slightly. “Yeah - scoot over.”

Harry scoffs with a lazy smile but obliges, shifting to the side so you can clamber into bed beside him. One bare arm lifts to wrap around your waist as you curl into his side, tilting your head upwards to land a light kiss to the underside of his jaw. Your palm goes up to the side of his face, cold fingertips pressed to his cheek as you tilt his head towards you, suckling light kisses into the delicate skin on the column of his throat, and you can feel his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath your lips as he exhales.

“What’re you doing?” your boyfriend questions softly, fingertips fiddling with the ends of your hair as you lift your leg to throw across both of his, kisses trailing further down his neck and your palm smoothing up and down his bare chest, nails scratching his skin softly. “Tryin’ t’make me horny - you’re the devil.”

“I’m not,” you murmur against his skin, which is a lie and a pathetic one at that, as your calf dips higher to caress the bulge in his boxers that seems to harden with every pucker of your lips against his neck. 

“You are,” Harry insists, hand sliding down your back until he reaches the hem of your sleep shorts, and before he can duck his fingers beneath the fabric your face heats up and you push yourself to straddle him, core situated directly over his cock, and he groans, the noise guttural and raspy. “What’s got you so worked up, hmm?”

You don’t answer - and it’s not as though it’s embarrassing to admit that you’re on your period, because you’ve certainly been with Harry long enough to know that he’s not a man with masculinity so fragile that it breaks with the mere mention of menstruation - but you’d rather not shatter the moment you’ve created by announcing that it can’t go on further than it already has. Instead, you roll your hips against his, spurred on by his soft moan as your hands slide down his arms until your palms press to his and you interlock your fingers, using it as leverage to rock your body against his with more force.

“Oh, shit,” Harry breathes, head digging backwards into his pillow and you drop your head back, grinding your clit against his bulge and even through the layers of fabric between you, the stimulation is good enough to pull a whimper from your throat - you hadn’t thought you’d been that needy but perhaps you were more desperate for him than you’d suspected. His hands untangle from yours and slide up your thighs, landing on your ass, fingers spreading to encompass as much of your fabric-covered skin as he can, rocking you deeper against him.

You moan softly, bracing your hands on his chest as his grasp on your ass tightens, fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts and you can feel his cock twitching in his boxers against your cunt - his hips buck gently up into yours and if you were like him, you’d tut and murmur for him to stay still, baby, but you’re nicer than that. “God, Har -”

Large hands slide from holding the globes of your ass up to your waist, fingertips smoothing circles into your skin through your shirt and the motion helps to ease the cramps still throbbing in your abdomen, though significantly lessened by both the Advil you’d taken and the pleasure building in your body as you grind against your boyfriend. Orgasms always help with cramps - when you were younger you’d spend hours in the shower, fingers toying with your clit and bringing yourself to cum over and over again. And now - well, you still do that, though grinding against Harry is much more pleasurable than doing it yourself. “I’m gonna cum, Har,” you breathe, and you lean your body forward, palms pressed into the pillow beside his head until you can dip your head down, lips pressing to his in a heated kiss that he moans into, holding your waist tighter against his dick. “Just - just a little more -”

“Don’t,” Harry grunts, which is what you’d expected him to say, and you push yourself back up, detaching your lips from his as you rise to sit above him again, hips still working against him with ease. “Wanna be inside you, baby - need t’fuck you -”

You bring your hands to his wrists when he reaches for the waistband of your shorts, preventing him from tugging them down your stomach and he looks up at you, brows furrowed and lips parted with desire as you breathe, “No - can’t -”

“Please -”

“I’m on my period,” you tell him, feeling heat creep up your neck and tainting your cheeks, and to compensate you grind further down on him, dropping your head back at his responding groan. 

His tongue darts out to lap at his lips briefly, hands smoothing back down to palm your ass and he doesn’t look nearly as weirded out as you’d expected - you hadn’t thought he’d push you off but you didn’t think he’d start rocking you against him with a new intensity that rips a whine from your throat. Harry doesn’t waste another moment before responding, as though you’d merely told him the weather instead of the current state of your menstrual cycle, “I don’t care, need t’be in you -”

He’s horny, your brain tells yourself. He would care if you hadn’t been grinding on him for nearly ten minutes. And you could accept his declaration of carelessness at face value and strip down and take him but he wouldn’t want it if he was thinking straight, and he’s decidedly not, now, brain muddled with sleep and horniness, even as his hands begin smoothing up the fabric riding up your ass. Fingertips graze your ass beneath your shorts and you jolt -

You’ll suck him off when you’re done, and you’re so close - it’s just another roll of your hips as Harry’s hands grasp your ass, digging into your skin so tight you’ll surely see bruises later that will do unspeakable things to your menstruating brain -

Your mouth drops open in a silent scream as Harry moans beneath you, grinding yourself vigorously against him with a desperate whimper, and you’d cringe at it in any other instance but God, it feels so good, better than anything your fingers could do in the shower, and you can’t bring yourself to feel embarrassed as your orgasm washes over you. It’s fast and brutal and your body jerkily attempts to maintain a rhythm against your boyfriend’s clothed cock but it’s difficult, arms shaking with the force of holding yourself up as your thighs tighten around his hips, and finally you lean forward, crashing your lips to Harry’s so he can swallow your needy moans.

His palms slide up your ass to your back, pressing against the small of your back as you lazily roll your hips over his, riding out the last aftershocks of your release until you’re done, dropping your head to his chest as heat floods your face. Perhaps he can tell you’re feeling embarrassed - he can read you like a book, generally - and his hands move up beneath your shirt, hands warm against your bare back as he breathes heavily.

(His dick is still throbbingly hard beneath you, and it’s a wonder he’s not bucking his hips into yours to chase his release, but he is, first and foremost, a gentleman.)

“Please -” he murmurs as you move your head so your cheek is pressed to his chest, feeling his heart thumping against your face. “Need t’fuck you, baby - little blood doesn’t bother me -”

Well, he’s still horny, and you ignore the way your stomach flips just like you ignore his words, sliding down his body and laying kisses against his skin as you tug the duvet fully off his body. You’ll consider his words later - debate how much he means it, and maybe he’ll mention it again later - but, for now, you can’t go on leaving him so painfully hard under you, especially when the thought of sucking him off sounds so appealing -

 ~~

 The topic goes, for the most part, unmentioned throughout the rest of the day - the two of you fall back to sleep after your early morning ministrations but only for a few more hours, venturing into the kitchen at 8 to have breakfast out in the garden. French toast amongst flowers is an unmatched experience and one you hadn’t had before quarantine, but you and Harry try to take advantage of the weather before it starts to get too chilly to spend time outside. You still had to run inside to grab cardigans for you both to don but - well, it’s the principle that matters.

And after breakfast comes movies, searching through Amazon until you find something you both haven’t seen, and Harry heads to warm your heating pad as you sacrifice the $3.99 to watch Almost Famous, and he returns with your pad just as you clear a space for him to curl onto the couch behind you. It’s such normal period protocol that you could nearly forget his eagerness to bury himself inside of you, blood and all - 

Nearly.

You haven’t forgotten, even when Jason Lee and Billy Crudup fight in a crashing plane, how Harry had begged you to let him fuck you - and he was horny, only a blind man could deny it, but he’d never made claims he couldn’t keep no matter how hard his dick was. The first time he’d confessed that he loved you, he’d been balls deep in your cunt, back pressed tight to your back as he landed biting kisses to the back of your neck, and he’d murmured the words against your sweaty skin - and, later, when you’d asked if he meant it, he’d told you that he’d never lie t’you when you’re tha’ close t’my bits.

It isn’t the most eloquent promise, but he’d mostly kept it. Still - what kind of dreamboat would someone have to be to be willing to fuck you on your period? You’d dated enough people to know what how much of a rarity that is, to have a man so cool with menstruation he doesn’t care about having sex with you and you find it hard to believe Harry truly would be willing -

His arms are crossed over your body, forearms holding your heating pad to your abdomen, palms resting nearly absentmindedly against your boobs through your shirt. His lips lay lazy kisses against the back of your neck, so gentle you’re sure he isn’t even aware he’s doing it, fingers every so often flexing gently against your chest. His curls tickle your shoulders through your tank top, cardigan discarded on the coffee table in front of you, and a chill rolls through your body at the feeling.

He doesn’t even know what he’s doing to you - or maybe he does. You can’t decide which option you prefer.

Harry pauses, breathing gentle against your skin. “What’re you thinkin’ about?”

Sometimes you forget how well he can read you. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

He hums, thumb moving in gentle circles against your boobs, grazing your nipple through the thin bra you’re wearing beneath your tank top, and you can practically hear the way his eyebrow quirks as you inhale softly. “Ah.”

“What?”

“You’re horny.”

You huff, and Harry drops his forehead against the back of your scalp with a low laugh. “Well, obviously - fingering my boobs like that - it’s the period hormones -”

“Period hormones.”

“Yes!” And you push yourself to sit up, glaring down at Harry lying beneath you, heating pad falling along with his arms to your lap, and his hands land on your thighs, palms smoothing up and down your skin. “Come on, you know I get horny on my period -”

“More than usual, you mean?”

“More than - I’m not the one who wakes up in the middle of the night with love boners!”

“Did that today, though, didn’t you?”

You, truly, don’t have any sort of response for that, mouth opening and closing a few times before you cross your arms over your chest, decidedly ignoring his smug smirk. “At least I have an excuse.”

He shrugs, drumming his fingertips up and down your thighs before raising one arm to slide beneath his head, tattooed arm gazing up at you and you want to - God, you want him to fucking rail you and you swallow thickly as his gaze never leaves yours, grin still toying at his lips. “So horny, an’ you won’t let m’fuck you.”

Heat burns at your face as you stare at him, eyebrows furrowing. Is he kidding? You can’t tell. He’s wearing that shit-eating smile that he dons when he’s fucking with you but you can’t see why he’d mention it again unless he was serious - it seems cruel. “Harry.”

“Yes?”

“You’re not serious.”

Harry shrugs, pushing himself onto his elbows, staring up at you with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “‘Course I’m serious.”

You reach down, fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt covering his chest. “You don’t think it’s - gross? Come on, Har.”

“Do you think s’gross?” he asks, and you shrug, even if you really want to shake your head in a vehement no, glancing back up at him when he lifts his head closer to yours. “I don’t think it is -” and as he sees your doubtful, quirked eyebrow, he exhales a laugh. “M’serious! Remember when y’had the stomach bug, an’ I was cleaning up your puke an’ -”

“Okay,” you cut him off, reaching forward to place your index finger against his lips before he can finish reminding you of exactly what he’d had to clean up - he puckers his lips to land a light kiss against your digits. “But that’s different.”

But you can tell that he can tell that he’s wearing you down - “How’s it different, babe? M’fine gettin’ m’hands a little dirty.”

The expression makes you cringe and you drop your head back with a groan, rolling your eyes at Harry’s barking laugh as he reaches his hand up to rest against your waist, other hand pressed into your thigh. “Sorry, sorry,” he grins, dropping his head into your lap, and you instinctively smooth your nails against his scalp. “But m’serious. Can’t have you gettin’ yourself off by grinding - what kind of boyfriend would I be, hmm?”

A normal one, you want to reply, but the truth is you don’t think you’ll ever look twice at a normal man again if you seriously accept this. How could you go to a normal boyfriend knowing Harry is more than willing to bury himself inside of you, blood and all?

When your fingers abruptly stop scratching his scalp Harry lifts his head, pressing his cheek against your thigh, and you lower your eyes to his with your bottom lip tucked tight between your teeth.

“S’that a yes, then?” he questions, and he sounds so excited at the prospect that your stomach flips.

“A maybe,” and he doesn’t deflate at the half-rejection - you’ll come around, and the both of you know it. “We can - um - we can try it.” As a larger grin spreads across his face you playfully hit his cheek, feeling your own heating up. “In the shower tonight. So - you know - it’s less messy.”

 ~~~

 Harry runs off to start the shower nearly immediately after your late dinner while you begin loading dishes in the dishwasher, shaky hands holding tight onto each dirty plate so you don’t drop it. And you aren’t - nervous, per se, at least not as much as you’d expected yourself to be. Harry had hardly been able to keep his hands off of you all afternoon, palm resting firmly on your thigh during dinner and mouthing open mouthed kisses to your throat while you started your second and third movies of the day.

He wasn’t nervous - not at all. He seemed pretty damn excited, too, and that should make you less hesitant but your stomach still flips as you hear the shower turn on, followed by his footsteps padding down the stairs and the hallway until he emerges back in the kitchen, sweatpants low on his hips and shirt riding up his torso, and you swallow thickly as he leans against the doorway.

“Shower’s running,” he tells you as you shut the dishwasher, taking a step closer to him.

“I hear it.”

“Y’okay?”

You shrug, dragging your nails against his chest softly through his shirt, and Harry wraps his hands around your wrists with a raised eyebrow. “I’m fine,” you tell him, smiling lightly. “I’m nervous, but I’m -”

“Horny?”

“Yeah.”

Harry drops his forehead against the top of your head with a laugh, his arms snaking around your waist to pull you to him. “It’ll be fine,” he says against your hair, puckering your lips to land kiss after kiss to your head. “Anyway, don’t periods stop flowing in water?” You furrow your eyebrows. “No - what?”

“I saw tha’ online -”

“That’s not true!”

“Okay, okay!” Harry holds up his hands in surrender and you grin, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “Well, m’lady, can I take you upstairs, then?”

Your stomach still rolls with nerves, even as he holds a hand out for you to grasp, and his palm is warmer than yours, skin soft and damp from the shower - “‘Course you can.”

 ~~~

 Harry’s fingers are expert at undoing the clasp of your bra, letting the cups fall away from your boobs and he lowers the straps down your shoulders, dragging his fingertips gently down your skin and smiling as goosebumps pop up over your skin. Your hands, in turn, travel downwards to the front of his sweatpants, pulling the tie until they come undone and the slightly-too-big pants droop down his hips until you slide your hands into the waistband and lower them all the way down into a pool by his ankles.

His shirt has long been discarded, thrown lazily on top of the toilet seat, and your tanktop and shorts have faced similar treatment, abandoned on the floor of your bedroom until you’re both just in your underwear - you’re both itching to be free of them, though, and just as Harry’s hands slide down your waist to the waistband of your panties you grab onto his boxers and tug them down, freeing his half-hard cock from their constraints.

Your hand wraps around his length like a vise, thumb swiping over his head and his hands falter, fingers tight on the hem of your panties, and his eyes drop shut with a low moan. You’re solely interested in feeling him harden in your grasp and your wish succeeds, feeling him throb against your fingers until he’s fully up, sliding his hands up to your breasts and rolling your nipples between his thumbs as some sort of punishment. Your lips part with a whine and you rest your head against his chest, inhaling shakily.

“Y’ready?” Harry questions, pinching your nipples lightly, and you arch your chest into his hands - he knows how sensitive your boobs get on your period and he never fails to take full advantage of your increased responses to his touch. “Panties off, baby.”

You pause, and then move your hands up to his chest, taking a step away from him. “Go in the shower,” you tell him, biting back a grin as he playfully rolls his eyes.

“Are y’serious?”

“Yes - go in the shower and - and close your eyes so I can - wash myself.”

Your cheeks heat up as Harry raises his eyebrows, clearly trying to see whether you’re being serious - after a moment with neither of you budging he sighs, trailing his fingertips down your hips before taking a step back, and you get just a moment to stare at his backside as he turns to step into the shower, sliding the door shut behind him until all you can see is his silhouette in the frosty glass.

You hook your fingers in the waistband of your panties, slowly sliding them down your thighs as you can hear Harry humming in the shower - you kick them to the floor and gaze at yourself in the mirror, just for a moment, before reaching down to the unshaven apex of your thighs, hooking a finger in the string of your tampon and pulling it out with one fast yank. First day of your period and it’s mercifully bright red instead of the end of the period brown that you can’t stand to look at, and you open the trash can with your toes to drop the tampon in.

When you look back at yourself in the mirror briefly, you can already see red staining your inner thighs, and your cheeks flush but you don’t give yourself time to ponder on it for fear of backing out on the whole idea. You merely turn, sliding open the door to the shower and stepping inside, and Harry stands, hand pressed dramatically over his eyes as the water washes over him, and you press your hands to his shoulders, moving around him so you can be in the direct line of the water. The stream washes away the remnants of blood between your thighs, disappearing down the drain until you’re sure there’s nothing left, and you tap Harry on the shoulder.

“You can open,” you tell him, and the fingers clamped over his eyes separate so you can see just a band of green peeking between his digits.

“Can’t believe you’re this bothered over a spot f’blood,” Harry says, and before you can venomously retort by telling him that it’s much more than a spot of blood, and he should know, considering how often he has to go out and buy you tampons, he presses his hands to the side of your face, lowering his lips to yours in a clashing, deep kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth without a moment to spare.

You nearly slip, then, taking a slippery step back until your back is pressed to the shower wall, hand reaching behind you to grab onto the railing installed into the wall for this very purpose - it’s ideal to grab onto you when he’s railing you from behind, and the little alcove dug into the wall for toiletries is the ideal place to perch on while Harry goes to town between your legs -

Now, though, you simply loop your free arm around his neck, pulling his body closer to yours with a soft moan into his mouth as one of his hands leaves your face to trail down your body, palm cupping your boob and squeezing the soft flesh. It pulls another whine from your throat, pushing your chest into his hands and he grins against your lips, dragging his thumb across your peaked nipple. You get so caught up in the kiss and his hand on your boobs that you could nearly forget about the circumstances that led you to this specific scenario, fucking in the shower instead of the comfort of your own bed -

Until his hand cupping your breast moves farther down, fingers trailing through the sodden curls between your thighs before dipping between your folds, and you jolt, arm tightening around his neck and his head drops between your neck and shoulder. Your face burns as his fingertips circle your clit, pressing into the sensitive nub as you groan before he slides them back down your folds, pressing one gently into your hole until it slips in with an embarrassing amount of ease.

“Oh fuck -” you exhale, and Harry lifts his head slightly, suckling a hickey into the side of your neck as his finger pumps in and out of you, curling upwards to hit the spongy spot inside of you that has you pushing your hips into his hands. “Come on, Har, babe - just fuck me, really fuck me -”

“Wan’ me t’fuck you, don’t you?” he exhales into your skin, soaked curls dripping moisture onto your chest, and the warm water dripping down your skin has a chill rolling through your spine like a goddamn tidal wave. “Don’t want m’fingers, d’you?”

You do want his fingers, though - and his mouth - and his cock - and the need is so overwhelming it makes your legs feel shaky. For a moment you don’t know what to say, mouth parted in a silent plea for everything and anything he’s willing to give you and Harry simply stares, thrusting his finger in and out of you before adding another. 

Eventually his pauses, fingers twisted to graze the spot inside of you that makes your vision go hazy, and you know he needs you to speak but you can hardly think of anything to say. “Please -”

“Please wha’?”

“Please - I need to cum -”

He hums and lowers his lips back to yours, and you cry out directly into his mouth as his thumb rests against your clit, rubbing slow circles entirely too soft into the nub but even the slightest bit of stimulation has your hormone ridden body bucking up into him, squeezing onto the railing behind you for dear life so you don’t collapse with need. “Need t’cum?”

“Yes!”

“Do it then, baby - cum f’me, cum on m’fingers -”

You roll your hips against his fingers, dropping your head back against the wall of the shower with a whine, and Harry continues his steady face penetrating you with his fingers - normally you’d never cum this fast, hardly five minutes with his fingers in your cunt but this isn’t a normal situation by any standards, and you can’t bring yourself to feel embarrassed over how close you are.

Harry’s teeth close on your bottom lip, nibbling on the skin gently and you’re nearly crossing your eyes to maintain eye contact with him - you know how much he loves watching when you come undone - and all it takes is one more measly pump of his fingers into your dripping pussy for you to topple over the edge. Your body trembles beneath him as his fingers still, your eyes rolling back into your scalp as you shake in his arms, cunt fluttering weakly around his fingers. His breathing is heavy in your ears, low and raspy as you whimper violently with your orgasm wrapping around you like a fucking vise and when your vision finally clears up he’s staring at you like you’re a piece in the damn Museum of Modern Art.

“Fuck, Har, felt so good,” you exhale, and Harry reaches down, one of his forearms going beneath your thighs to lift up, and you look down just as he pulls his fingers out of you. The blood on his digits is immediately washed away by the stream of water but you still cringe watching the water turn red as it disappears into the drain, and you can tell he notices your sudden shyness - fingers grasp your chin, angling your head up to stare at him. “What -?”

His lips press to yours once more, a soft, lingering kiss that doesn’t go anywhere at all, before he pulls away, hands sliding up and down your hips. “I guess eating your cunt s’out f’the picture, then …?”

You roll your eyes with a giggle as he drops your leg again, nails digging crescents into your hips as he turns you around, hips pressed flush to yours and his chest to your back, and you instinctively hold tighter onto the railing. “For now,” you groan in response as he thrusts his hips against yours, cock sliding against the sensitive folds of your cunt, and you can practically feel the way he perks up at your half-rejection. “Just fuck me, Har - please, missed it so much -”

Harry laughs at that - a dry one, void of humor, and you whine, pushing your ass back against him before he indulges you, grip landing on your hips and pulling your ass tight against his cock. “S’only been one day without my cock,” he breathes, one hand leaving your hips, presumably to line his dick up as you feel his tip poking at your folds, and you drop your forehead against the shower wall with a whine. “Look how needy you are.”

You are needy, rocking your hips against the tip of his cock that he drags through your folds, and you can’t bring yourself to care about it one bit. “Please -”

“Tell me.”

“Harry -”

“Tell me.”

You groan as he pulls the tip out, and his length smacks against your ass once and even if it’s gentle it still makes you thrust your hips back towards him, and his arm on your hips tightens until you can’t move at all. “I’m - I need you so bad, Har - need you to fuck me - fuck me like you -”

Your sentence is cut off with a loud, drawn out cry as Harry pushes himself into you, cock filling you to the brim and your mouth opens and closes uselessly before he pulls out and thrusts back in with a loud groan, water droplets flicking onto your skin as you hold tight onto the railing. Your knees feel weak as Harry fucks into you, his hands holding tight onto your hips and surely leaving bruises on your skin, but you can’t possibly bring yourself to complain as you drop your head forward with a sob.

“Fuck, Har!” you moan, pushing your hips back against his as he pumps into you, his groans nearly overpowering the slap of skin against skin but you can still hear it like music to your ears, and you gnaw on your bottom lip to try and silence some of your desperate cries. “Please, please -”

“Oh, god,” Harry grunts, holding your hips tighter to his as his pace increases, hips slamming into yours as though he hadn’t fucked you for weeks instead of one measly day. Quarantine truly had spoiled both of you - days spent without fucking each other all over the house seemed to be days wasted, aren’t they? And the week per month you’d had to spend without having sex during your period was a miserable one, and an era you’re more than glad to see gone - “fuck, baby, so - so tight, ‘round m’cock, squeezin’ me so tight.”

Your hand slips on the railing and for a second you fear you’ll fall - but then Harry’s arms slide upwards, forearms wrapped tight against your stomach as he leans forward, chest pressed to your back as his hips slam into yours over and over, lips pressing biting kisses into the wet skin of your neck. You can feel rather than hear his moans, their vibrations reverberating through your skin and you reach behind your head, dragging your nails through his hair as he leaves bites down your skin.

You can already feel your release building, pressure rising in your stomach as your cunt clenches and unclenches around him, gasping for air in the shower, humid from the hot water and your body heat. You’re sure all you need is his fingers, just circling your clit one time and you’ll snap, cumming so hard you’re sure you’ll see stars, so hard you won’t be able to hold yourself up -

“Play w’your clit, baby,” Harry breathes, so quiet you nearly can’t hear it, and you inhale shakily as you oblige, letting go of the railing with one hand to trail down your wet stomach until you reach your sensitive clit, and it throbs against your fingers. “Yeah, good girl - give it a pinch f’me, baby, make yourself cum on m’cock -”

Shaky fingers circle your clit and then press down before pinching it like he’d instructed, and your back arches into his chest, feeling his peaked nipples dragging across your skin. His body blocks most of the water’s stream onto you but you can still feel droplets soaking your skin, trailing down and meeting your fingers at your clit and it only adds to the pleasure mounting, spreading from your clit throughout your entire body -

“Fuck!”

Your knees finally give out as you sob out, squeezing your eyes shut as you hit your breaking point for the second time - your body shakes desperately, tilting your head to the side with a cry as Harry lunges forward to attach his lips to yours, every whine going directly into his mouth. His arm around your waist is the only thing holding you up but you can tell he’s close, thrusts losing their steady pace and growing jerkier, and as your cunt flutters around him you can feel his cock throbbing -

“God,” Harry moans, and you can hear his voice growing higher in pitch, and it’s a telltale sign that he’s so fucking close you’re sure he can feel it on the tip of his fingers - “clench around me, baby, come on -”

And you oblige, cunt tightening around him as you rest your forehead against the railing, and it only takes a few more jerky thrusts before he grabs hold of your hips, bringing them tight to his. The sensation of being filled with his cum is one you’ve grown so used to but it never fails to make you moan, tilting your head to the side so you can get a glimpse of his face in your peripheral vision as his eyes shut, lips parted as he groans, and hot ribbons of cum fill your cunt as he releases.

Your breathing is shaky when Harry grabs your hands, tugging you around so you’re facing him, and you glance down at the floor of the shower, watching the water beneath you tint itself red with your blood. You expect a rush of embarrassment to wash over you as he glances down to see what you’re looking at but it never comes - you can’t bring yourself to feel embarrassed when you’re so relaxed, finally satisfied, watching his cum drip down your thighs.

Harry turns to shut off the shower, the stream of water abruptly stopping, and you cross your arms over your chest, trying to preserve the humid air sure to escape as soon as he opens the door. But he doesn’t - not yet, at least - his hands, instead, coming down to land on your upper arms, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin as he stares down at you.

“How was tha’?” your boyfriend questions, voice soft and sentimental and you can’t help yourself from pushing yourself onto your toes to land a kiss to the side of his cheek. “Not as bad as y’thought, was it.”

It’s not a question - he knows the answer already. “It was amazing,” you confess truthfully, reaching up to move his wet curls out of his face, and a smile tilts your lips upward as he grins. “Not bad at all.”

“Not bad at all,” he echoes, and you can tell he’s resisting the urge to say I told you so or something of the sort, but you wouldn’t mind if he wanted to - he was right. Knows you better than you know yourself, sometimes, and it should scare you but it just makes you love him more than you thought you could. “An’ next time, we can do it on the bed.”

“On the -?”

[waitimcomingtoo]

Disobedience

Part one

Synopsis: after getting tortured by HYDRA, you have to obey every command you’re given

Masterlist

“Hi, baby.” Peter wrapped his arms around you as you sat in front of your laptop, kissing the top of your head before rubbing your shoulders. “What are you doing?”

“Um.” You folded your lips in, knowing he wasn’t going to like what you had to say. “I’m just making arrangements.”

“Arrangements?” He wondered as he looked at your computer screen. He saw that you were on florists website, scrolling through the different variations of flowers.

“Why are you looking at floral arrangements?” He asked in grave voice as he slowly pulled his hand away from you.

“Well.” You swallowed, thinking of a way to break the news gently. “I figured it would make things a little easier on you and my family if I started planning it now.”

“Planning what?” Peter asked, intentionally playing dumb.

“My funeral, Peter.” You told calmly. “In case you guys want to have a service once Mr. Stark-“

“No.” Peter cut you off and began to walk away. “Not happening. You’re not dying.”

“We have to talk about this, Peter.” You complained as you followed him. “You can’t just pretend this isn’t going happen.”

“No, we don’t have to talk about this.” Peter retorted. “I still have time to figure out a cure. You gave me a year.”

“No, Peter.” You sighed. “You gave yourself a year.”

“What are you talking about?” He asked as he stopped walking. You stared at him for a long time, not wanting to tell him the real reason you agreed to his request.

“Peter, I never wanted to agree to that.” You said softly. “But I didn’t have a choice. You asked for a year and I had to say yes. If I could’ve said no, I would have.”

“I’m still working.” Peter protested. “It’s only been three months since I started helping them in the lab. Dr. Banner and I-“

“Dr. Banner can’t fix this.” You cut him off.” He still doesn’t even know what’s causing it. The only people who know who can fix me are at HYDRA.”

“Well we can’t exactly send them a text and ask how to reverse their mind control.” Peter snapped.

“I know.” You said. “That’s why I’m going to them.”

“What?”

“I’m going back to the headquarters where they kept me and demanding that they reverse it.” You explained. “They’re the only ones who can fix this.”

“You can’t be serious.” Peter furrowed his eyebrows as he watched you pack a bag. “Y/n, they tortured you for three months. We thought you were dead. We…I buried a casket.”

“They caught me off guard last time.” You corrected. “This time, I’m going to them. I thought it through and I have a plan. I’m going and I’m not leaving until I get what I came for.”

“You can’t go there.” Peter shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. I won’t allow it.”

“Last time I checked, you weren’t the boss of me.” You scoffed, growing frustrated with him. “I’m going and you’re not stoping me.”

“Y/n, I need you to think about this.” Peter began to panic. “I know you want the cure but this is not the way to get it. This will get you killed.”

You tilted your head and stared at him, hoping the irony of his words would hit him.

“But that’s what you want.” He realized. “You have a death wish and you’re granting it.”

“Its either I find a cure or die trying.” You shrugged. “It’s worth the risk for me.”

“No.” Peter said firmly. “You’re not going back there. You’re not going through with this plan.”

“Watch me.” You said spitefully as you zipped your bag. You began to walk towards the door and Peter panicked at the thought of losing you all over again.

“I command you to stop.” Peter said sternly, and you stopping in your tracks. You didn’t turn around, too angry with him for using your condition to look at him.

“Do not going through with this plan.” He continued. “Do not go to HYDRA. Do not try to fix this yourself.”

You listened to his commands and felt yourself reluctantly losing your ability to go. You still desperately wanted to go, but felt physically unable to bring yourself to do so. You turned around slowly and looked at Peter with seething anger.

“If you can so easily use my condition against me, then maybe you’re not the guy I thought you were.” You said slowly, making Peter’s face fall.

“Baby, I’m sorry. You know I hate to-“

“If you’re sorry, then take it back.” You challenged him. “Take the command back.”

“I…no.” Peter said weakly. “I can’t. I can’t let you do this.”

“Then I can’t be your girlfriend.” You laughed sadly as a tear rolled down your cheek. “I thought you were a good guy. I must’ve been thinking of someone else.”

“Y/n…” Peter whispered, the weight of his actions breaking his heart.

“Can I go, sir?” You asked him, giving him a look that told him not to say no. You’d grown out of calling people “sir”, and he knew that. You were saying it now to drive in how much he hurt you.

“Yeah.” He swallowed, eyes falling to the floor as he realized what he had done. “You can go.”

You shook your head at him before walking out of the room, leaving him to wallow in the guilt. You gave your hair a stressful tug as you walked through the hallway, trying to come up with a way to get around Peter’s command. You didn’t have to think too long before you saw Bucky coming towards you.

“Bucky, can I ask you something?” You asked as he approached. Bucky stopped and nodded quietly.

“Do you care about me or my well being?” You wondered.

“No, not really.” He said softly.

“Good.” You nodded. “Then tell me to go through with my plan.”

“Go through with your plan.” He told you, and your felt your ability to go return.

“Thank you.” You smiled in relief. “I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” He nodded. “Wait, are you gonna die?”

“Maybe.” You shrugged. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Can I have your milk frother if you do?” He asked.

“Yeah. You can use it whenever you want.” You told him with a short laugh. He gave you a small smile in return.

“Okay. Thanks.” He said before walking away. You watched as he left, never really understanding him.

“What the fuck?” You mumbled to yourself before retreating to your room. You grabbed your bag and jumped out the window, using your powers to fly your way to HYDRA headquarters.

~

“Y/n?” Peter knocked softly at your door a few hours later. “Can I come in?”

When you didn’t answer, he assumed you were giving him the silent treatment.

“I know you’re mad at me about before but Mr. Stark says we should never go to bed angry.” He tried again. “Do you want to watch a movie? I’ll let you pick. And then gaslight you into picking a movie I want to watch.”

Again, he received no answer.

“I’m joking.” He followed up. “Sort of.”

He sighed when he got no response but didn’t let it deter him.

“Can you answer me, please?” He asked, careful not to give you a command. When you didn’t respond, he got worried and opened your door. He didn’t see you anywhere but noticed the bag you packed before was gone.

“Damn it.” He sighed and pulled at his hair. “Damn it, damn it, damn it.”

Peter ran into the kitchen where he knew most of the team would be to tell them what happened.

“Y/n isn’t here.” Peter announced. “I think she went to HYDRA headquarters.”

“What makes you say that?” Steve wondered.

“She told me she was going to HYDRA headquarters.” Peter answered sheepishly.

“Why didn’t you stop her?” Tony asked.

“I tried.” Peter defended. “I told her not to go.”

“Then how did this happen?” Tony sighed.

“I have no idea.” Bucky said as he sipped his coffee, getting milk froth on his upper lip.

“Get to the jet.” Tony said as he stood up. “We’ll bring her back.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded, trying to keep his calm. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

~

You landed in front of HYDRA headquarters and walked to the front gate. You had powers similar to the Scarlet Witch, but your energy manifested in a deep violet. You used your blasts of energy to knock out the guards at the front gate, not giving them a second look at you marches past. You knocked down anyone in your way until you reached the room where you were kept. A chill ran down your spin as the memories of your torture came flooding back. You made sure the light was on before entering the room, bracing yourself for anything you might see.

You only got a few steps into the room before you heard the door slam behind you, a familiar sound that made your skin crawl. You turned around and saw Elisa Sinclair, the woman in charge of torturing you, standing with her back against the door.

“Y/n?” She smiled. “I thought that was you. There are alarms going off all over building. You really did a number on my guards out front. I always knew you were different from the other Avengers. You were never afraid to get your hands dirty.”

“What did you do to me?” You asked as you raised your fists. Purple energy pulsed in and around your fists, showing her your we’re serious.

“HYDRA improved you. Have you returned to give thanks?” She asked through a smirk.

“No.” You snapped. “I’m here to reverse it.”

“I should’ve known you’d be ungrateful.” Her smile fell. “Such a shame. All that technology gone to waste. You were going to be our first genetically modified soldier. Any command given, you accept. No hesitation. No fear. Just listen and obey. You would have been beautiful.”

“You ruined me.” You swallowed angrily, trying to stay calm.

“We made you better.” Elisa retorted. “But you were taken from us before we could finish. Now, you’re nothing but a half cocked experiment. We have no use for you.”

“Then reverse it.” You shouted, advancing on her. “Undo what you did to me.”

“Why would we do that?”

“Because I’m telling you to.” You said, wishing you had a better comeback. She gave you a condescending smile and shook her head.

“I don’t think someone in your position has any right to tell other people what to do.” She pouted. “In fact, why don’t you-“

You hit her with a blast of energy before she could finish her sentence. She began to choke as you suspended her in the air. You threw her against the back wall, knocking the wind out of her.

“You’re not giving me any commands.” You seethed. “I’d die before I obeyed you.”

“I can arrange that.” She said in a strangled voice. Before she could speak again, a web was shot to cover her mouth.

“Silence, whore.” Peter’s voice came from the doorway. You stifled a laugh at his endearing yet non-threatening presence Elisa looked at him.

“I’m sorry.” He quickly followed up. “I normally don’t call women that but you hurt my girl and it felt warranted.”

“What are you doing here?” You asked him as you turned around. You let Elisa go, dropping her to the ground with a thud.

“I came incase you needed my help.” He explained. “But it looks like you got this, so I’m just gonna stand here if you need me. Good job, baby!”

“You shouldn’t be here.” You repeated. “She’s dangerous.”

“I’m dangerous.” He said confidently. “And dressed to the occasion. What kind of villain wears khakis?”

“Oh, I see.” Elisa’s laughter sounded in the empty room. “Is that Peter?”

You stayed silent, hoping Peter wouldn’t speak either.

“Answer me.” She said, and you obeyed.

“Yes.” You answered, feeling your mouth go dry.

“She spoke about you all the time.” Elisa looked past you, right at Peter. “Every time I put her in that dark room and-“

“Don’t.” Peter gulped. “I don’t want to hear that. I don’t want to know what you did.”

“She used to cry for you. Everyday she’d tell me, “Peter’s gonna stop you. Peter’s gonna come for me. Peter will find me.”” She mocked your voice. “He never came, did he? Never rescued you.”

“No.” You responded as you stared at him. “He didn’t.”

“Does that make you mad, Y/n? Be honest.” Elisa commanded.

“No.” You shook your head. “He didn’t know where I was.”

“But you thought he stopped looking, didn’t you?” She continued. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Yes.” You answered against your will. “I thought he gave up.”

“How did that make you feel? Tell him the truth.” She ordered.

“I was angry. I was angry with him for giving up.” You admitted. Despite not being able to see his face, you could tell Peter was upset.

“You were pronounced dead.” He said weakly. “I went to your funeral. I thought we had lost you.”

“I was never dead. Just with HYDRA, wishing I was.”

“Because he stopped looking. Look him in the eyes and tell him that.” Elisa ordered.

“Because you stopped looking.” You told Peter as tears ran down your face.

“Hm.” She sighed and looked at her nails. “Kill him.”

Your eyes widened as the urge to kill Peter took over your body.

“Peter, run.” You ordered, and he took off running.

“Go after him.” Elisa said simply. “Kill him.”

Your legs began to move but you shot a blast of energy forward to knock yourself backwards.

“No.” You cried. “Don’t do this.”

“Why?” She taunted. “Don’t you want to make him pay for not coming to rescue you?”

“I don’t need rescuing. I’m not gonna hurt him.” You said through gritted teeth as you fought the urge as hard as you could.

“That’s not up to you, is it?” She teased.

“You don’t have to do this.” You looked at her desperately.

“I know.” She smirked and knelt down beside you. “You do.”

Your body began to move against your will towards the direction Peter ran in. You put your hands forward and kept a steady blast flowing from your hands. It held you back, but you knew it wouldn’t last.

“Kill him.” She commanded again. “And don’t listen to him if he tells you to stop.”

Your body stumbled forward and you were defenseless. You moved in the direction towards Peter, finding him almost immediately. You used your energy to create a force field that held him in place, lifting him in the air as you cried.

“Peter.” You sniffled. “She told me to kill you.”

“It’s okay.” He assured you. “Just don’t kill me.”

“I can’t.” You tightened the force field around him, constricting his breathing. “She told me not to listen to you.”

“Okay.” Peter gulped. “That’s okay.”

You fought the command long enough to drop him to the ground, fighting with yourself to leave him alone. Peter webbed your arms to your sides, giving you momentary relief.

“Peter, you have to run.” You cried. “You have to go.”

“I can’t leave you here.” He said as he stood up. “They could capture you again.”

“I’m gonna kill you if you don’t leave. I don’t have a choice.” You said as your reluctantly fought against the webbing. The webs were breaking and you knew he wouldn’t be safe for much longer.

“I can’t leave you to be tortured.” He insisted. “I lost you once. I can never go through that again.”

With a defeated cry, you broke free from the webs and sent a blast that knocked him down the hallway. You ran after him and punched him in the face before he could recover. You climbed on top of Peter and brought your fists down in heavy, painful blows. Peter’s mask began to break apart, his bloody eye soon becoming visible.

“Fight back!” You cried desperately as your hands closed around his throat.

“I can’t hurt you!” He wheezed.

“Peter, just knock me out.” You begged. “Close your eyes and knock me unconscious.”

“No.” He was crying as well now. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Peter.” You whimpered, tightening your hands around his neck.

“Y/n, whatever you’re about to do, it’s okay.” He said in a strained voice. “I forgive you.”

“I don’t forgive me.” You sobbed, feeling his heartbeat begin to slow down.

“I love you.” He smiled up at you as tears rolled down his face. “Until my breathing stops, okay? Can you repeat that back to me?”

“You love me.” You said as fears fell from your face onto his.

“Yes I do.” Peter nodded, keeping his smile. “I love you so much. This isn’t your fault. Can you repeat that?”

“It’s not my fault.” You repeated as his face turned a deep shade of purple.

“Yeah, baby. I…” Peter trailed off mid sentence as his head rolled to the side. His eyes stayed open as your released your hands from his neck.

“No!” You screamed, laying on top of his body to hug him. “No.”

You held Peter tightly and cried into his chest, pressing kisses against his beaten face. The anguish you felt was replaced by a fiery rage for Elisa. You thought your condition was ruining your life, and now it had ended someone else’s. As you stared at Peter’s limp body, your entire body began to glow a deep purple. A huge blast of energy shot out from your body, breaking all nearby windows. You felt something inside you click and your legs began to move. You wanted to stay with him to grieve, but you knew the fight wasn’t over. Elisa was going to pay for what she made you do. With heavy steps, you walked back to the room and blasted the door right off the hinges.

“There you are.” Elisa smiled as you stormed in. “Did you do it? Did he scream?”

You ignored her and kept approaching, the energy around you growing with each step.

“Woah, there.” She gulped. “Stop it.”

You didn’t stop, keeping your eyes dead set on her while she backed away.

“I said stop it.” She said again, but you didn’t listen. You shot a blast of energy at her and held her against a wall.

“You can’t control me anymore.” You growled as you got up on her face. You smiled a little when she began to tremble.

“Beg for mercy.” You whispered in her ear. Elisa looked up, feeling a newfound fear of you.

“I said beg!” You shouted, making her jump. “That’s an order. And you have to obey.”

“Please.” She begged. “Don’t kill me.”

“Is that an order?” You asked as you tightened your grip. She nodded rapidly, gasping for air.

“Sorry.” You smiled wickedly. “But I will no longer be obedient.”

With that, you used your powers to choke her to death, leaving her lifeless body on the floor.

You walked out of the room and wiped your face free of tears, letting the pain of losing Peter finally settle in. As you rubbed your eyes, you bumped into someone unexpectedly.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Peter’s voice filled your ears. “You squeezed the life out of my neck. Did you find that lady?”

“Peter?” You asked in disbelief as you touched his bruised face. “You’re okay?”

“Someone forgot their boyfriend took an improv class in freshman year.” Peter smiled proudly. “You couldn’t kill me if you thought I was dead.”

“You’re a genius.” You exclaimed as you hugged him tightly. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I was about to pull a Loki and kill a bunch of random pedestrians.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Peter assured you as he hugged you back. “But we should finish this reunion later. We need to get back into the jet now.”

You pulled away and smiled a little, feeling a forgotten sense of freedom.

“No.” You said, loving the way the word rolled off your tongue.

“No?” Peter asked in surprise.

“No.” You repeated. “I don’t want to get back on the jet. I want to stay here with you for a few more minutes.”

“Are you…disobeying me?” He asked slowly.

“Yeah.” You smiled proudly. “I am.”

“Oh my God.” Peter pulled you into an excited hug. “Oh my God!”

You hugged him back, feeling tears of relief stream from your eyes.

“You’re free?” He asked. “You don’t have to obey anymore?”

“No. I don’t know what happened. I saw you lying there and something switched inside my brain.” You shrugged. “The urge to avenge you was stronger than my urge to obey.”

“I’m so proud of you.” He cupped your face. “You fixed yourself. We have to tell everyone.”

“Yes we do. Because I want to. That’s my choice.” You said confidently.

“Yes it is.” Peter encouraged you. “Now please, let’s go home.”

You and Peter walked hand in hand to the jet, not wanting to leave each other’s sides after what you gown through.

“There you guys are.” Tony got off the jet when he saw you approaching. “Are you kids okay?”

“We’re okay.” You smiled softly as you looked at Peter.

“Okay.” Tony sighed in in relief. “Let’s go home, yeah? It’s been a long day.”

“You have no idea.” Peter nodded as he rubbed his throat. “I almost died back there.”

“I killed a woman with my bare hands.” You laughed, but your laughter quickly died when you realized what you said.

“So, we’ll unpack that later.” Tony pointed at you. “Parker, get your throat checked out by the medic. L/n, get yourself a therapist.”

“Yes, sir.” You chuckled as you climbed onto the jet.

Less than an hour later, you walked back into the main part of the jet to sit with Tony.

“I just checked on Peter. The medic said his throat should be fine.” You told Tony as you sat down in one of the seats.

“Good. Though a few days without him speaking might be nice.” Tony teased.

“Yeah.” You laughed. “Well like it or not, he’s one of the bravest guys on the team. You should’ve seen him back there. He was a hero.”

“I always saw that in him.” Tony said softly. “Why do you think I recruited him in the first place? It wasn’t just for those lovely curls, though they are a bonus.”

Before you could respond, Peter came into the room with a neck brace on. Your eyes quickly fell to the ground, not wanting to look at what you had done.

“Hello.” He said in a weak voice.

“Hey, Pete.” You collected yourself and looked up at him with a smile. He smiled back and sat next to you, resting his head on your shoulder. You kissed the top of his head and rubbed his back, silently thinking him for everything he had done.

“Almost there guys.” Tony said. “I should call Pepper before we land. Y/n, can you pass me my phone?”

“Get it yourself.” You said proudly, wanting to exercise your newly gained free will.

“Excuse me?” Tony looked back at you.

“I just sat down and I don’t want to get up again.” You said simply. “Get it yourself.”

Tony stared at you for a long time, trying to decide if you were serious. Finally, a huge smile broke out on his face.

“That’s my girl!” Tony cheered, slamming his hand on the dashboard a few times. “That’s my damn girl!”

You smiled proudly as Peter patted your back, just as proud of you for being able to disobey.

“I’m proud of you.” Tony said. “But if you ever talk to me like that again I will euthanize you.”

“Fine by me.” You chuckled, happy to be back to normal.

“That is absolutely not fine.” Peter gasped. “Oh my God. I shouldn’t have to say this, but no euthanasia jokes.”

“Sorry, Peter. I don’t have to listen to you anymore.” You shrugged playfully. “Do you think we would have gone with lethal injection or death by firing squad?”

“I was thinking of shooting you out of a canon.” Tony added to the joke. “Cap has one in storage from his touring days.”

“What if you fed me to feral dogs?” You suggested.

“What if we didn’t make jokes about killing Y/n?” Peter matched your tone. “What about that? That might be fun. Who’s with me?”

“All right, we’ll stop.” You laughed as you pressed another kiss to his cheek. Tony laughed as well, smiling as he caught the sweet interaction in the rear view mirror. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was thrilled to see you smiling again. He thought he was going to lose you and that though killed him. The jet steeled into a comfortable silence for a few minutes as everyone relaxed. Tony looked at you and Peter again in the rear view mirror, wanting to stir the pot for his own amusement.

“But I do know where we could get a pack of feral dogs.”

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[outivv]

I was just watching Demon Slayer while eating my lunch, and I got an idea. So what if The Boys' s/o is a demon, but they're like Nezuko; they can shrink and enlarge at will, but they aren't immune to sunlight so they may rely on The Boys to carry them in a makeshift backpack. They can also absolutely kick ass if necessary, and they're insanely stronk. But most of the time, they're smothering The Boys with kisses, headpats, etc. because they really like The Boys and want them to know it.

Synopsis: demon slayer au, where y/n is like nezuko

Warnings: mentions of fighting, and minor cursing.

Game/ anime: genshin impact and a slight bit of demon slayer.

Characters: zhongli, Diluc, childe, kaeya, and dainsleif

Pronouns for reader: gender neutral/ not mentioned

A/n: yes! Demon slayer has been on my mind recently, so yes! I really want to see the movie but haven’t gotten around to it for some reason? I don’t know, but this was honestly really exciting to write because demon slayer is probably one of my favorite animes. So I really hope you enjoy, and have an amazing day/afternoon/night! (Now I’m imagining the boys as demon slayers :’))

— zhongli —

To say the least zhongli is hiding you from xiao. So he took you in, and now he’s stuck with you.

In the first few months of your relationship(?) he found out that you can shrink and enlarge at will. Which to say the least was surprising. Literally gave him a heart attack when you suddenly enlarged to get something on top of the cupboards.

Later that same day he found out you hate sunlight. Like... hate it. He’d do anything in his power to make you comfortable, and when you both need to go somewhere in the day he’d try to shield you from the sunlight as best as possible. Then you suggested that he’d carry you in a little backpack, and it’d be easier because you could shrink... so he did that.

You probably got caught by some treasure hoarders, thinking that the makeshift backpack you were in had something valuable. When you jumped out and throat punched one of them though, they found out just how wrong they were. Zhongli watched in awe at your strength before realizing that it would be smart of him to step in and help.

He finds it oddly adorable how you can go from absolutely destroying a ruin guard in one punch, to smothering him in kisses and love. He doesn’t mind it no, but he finds it kinda hilarious. I mean you went berserk and now you’re nuzzling up to him saying how much you live him. Kinda makes him just... sit there. Like ‘wow... ok... I mean... I want the affection but... wow...’ he’s absolutely smitten honestly.

— childe —

Now in childe’s scenario I’m going to say either you were a failed experiment gone right by dottore. Or he found you in the forests of snezhnaya. (I’m gonna leave it up to you to decide) either way, childe said you could be valuable to the fatui, and now here you are... in a relationship with this bastard amazing guy.

I feel like he’d know about your strength, and growing/shrinking abilities. Mostly because I think because one of the reasons that they kept you was so you’d be of some sort of use to the fatui (at first! Childe grew to care and love you. Lowkey a sucker for these kinda fics so... I’m adding it into my headcanons.) they’d have to see what you could do exactly. For their safety, and the safety of others, they’d need to know.

I think he’d be kinda iffy on the whole ‘carrying you in a backpack’ thing. Mainly because it’s always snowing in snezhnaya so it’s always cloudy. But when you travel he’s going to have to suck it up and carry you.

I think you’d often go with childe on missions, because 1. He’s your boyfriend. And 2. He’s the one that decided you should join the fatui, so in the harbingers eyes he’s the one that has to take responsibility. (I feel that that made y/n sound like a dog I’m so sorry :’)) so he’s seen you in action before, and every time he does it never fails to take his breath away.

And you fighting countless foes on the battlefield, and then showering him in your love makes him feel proud, and kinda cocky. Like you, a future harbinger candidate, just took down a bunch of foes... and now your going to give him all of your affection. He just feels extra special when you do that, not going to lie.

— kaeya —

He probably found you doing some commissions, he was just taking a stroll around mondstadt and stubbled upon one of the people the knights wish they could recruit. Complete coincidence.

When he goes to walk over to you fighting a bunch of hilichurls, and sees that you’re taking them down in one hit, he’s slightly impressed. I mean they’re just hilichurls after all. At first he challenged you, and said you should fight the ruin guard at the thousand winds temple, and when you rose to the challenge and completed it with ease he could see why the knights wanted you so badly.

Of course he’d “stumble” upon you more and more, and then you know... you start dating (I’m not in the mood to write a while backstory for how you got into a relationship but just imagine it as a “he kept challenging you and then fell in love with you” kinda thing? I’m not sure but yeah :D)

Whenever you fight, whether it be sparring with someone, or a commission, and kaeya has the honor of seeing you he’ll announce to everyone that “hey that’s my s/o!” And he expects attention and kisses afterwards from you.

He knows the routine by now, you fight, or do a commission, just something that involves fighting, and then he gets a bunch of attention. Kaeya is no fool. He knows.

When he found out that you hate sunlight, and that’s why you do most of your work at night, he was kinda surprised. He honestly just assumed you were like rosaria, and were busy during the day so you did your... “community work” at night.

When he finds out you can shrink and grow he’s just kinda like “oh... well that’s new. Cool. But new.” And then asks you what else you can do that he didn’t know about.

I don’t think he’d need to take you anywhere in a makeshift backpack. And if he needed to he probably couldn’t due to knight work you know?

— Diluc —

He’s seen you a few times at angels share, only late at night of course but he’s still seen you around. He’s been kinda crushing on you from afar so he didn’t know much about you. Only that you’re a high ranked adventure from somewhere other than mondstadt. Eventually though he did ask you out, and now you’re dating. Congrats!

When he saw you fight for the first time I can guarantee that his first thought was ‘where the hell are they from!? What were they feeding them holy-“ he’s in absolute awe at your strength. Diluc isn’t much of a guy for sparring, but now he’s inclined to try to spar with you. He’d probably break something but it’d be worth it in his mind.

After you fight like three ruin hunters, and you run over to him smothering him in love and affection, he’s taken back. Like he had to make sure you were the same person that absolutely destroyed those ruin hunters. I mean he’s not complaining... he probably found it attractive honestly. (You thought childe would be the one to find you destroying some enemy and then giving him all your attention, attractive??? I mean he does... but no! It was Diluc all along!)

He’ll take note that you don’t like sunlight and then will be very adamant on getting you a backpack that you can fit in. Like it’s one of the first things he does after finding out.

When he finds out you can shrink/ grow though? He’s confused. He’ll act like it was normal but will then suddenly say “what was that.” Very sternly. Like he demands and answer.

— dainsleif —

You’ve been with dainsleif for a while, both as he travel companion, and his s/o. So I think he’s knows for a while that you’re insanely strong, don’t like sunlight, and and grow and shrink.

When he found out you were really strong he was kinda taken aback but went with it and didn’t really ask you about it, more passively asked you how you got so strong.

Whenever you come up to him and kiss him, and just generally shower him with love and attention, he’ll gladly take it. Like full smile on his face, because just like Diluc he thinks that you beating a ruin hunters ass and then giving him all your love is attractive.

When he saw you shrink and grow he did the same as Diluc, except didn’t demand an answer. He was just like, “so... care to explain what that was?” He’ll understand if you don’t want to but that doesn’t make him any less curious.

You both travel a lot, so he’d have to carry you in a makeshift backpack everywhere. He doesn’t mind it, he wishes you could be walking right beside him but he understands that you physically can’t. Cause sunlight will turn you to dust, and he loves you too much to be selfish and let that happen.

[getlostsquidward]

The gaps in your hearts (Part 2)

Lou Miller x fem!reader

A/N: You asked for part 2, and I shall deliver. I hope it's worth your wait!!

Summary: After your departure, an unexpected circumstance had you arriving back at the loft, back at Lou. Will the gaps in your hearts only become wider or will they be finally filled?

Part one

“Oh, bugger. Baby? I’m home.”

“Nice place.”

“Try heating it.”

“There’s a room for you upstairs. Your stuff’s upstairs too.”

Lou called your name a couple of times but she got no answer. Maybe you went out and got something from the store. She furrowed her eyebrows at the notion that you didn’t let her know you’ll go out like you usually does.

She can’t wait for you to meet Debbie.

The sun has set down and you weren’t at home yet. Lou was growing worried each minute that passes. She’d left you text messages, she tried to call you several times, but all of it went to voicemail. Where did you go?

Debbie had returned from her closure meeting with Claude. She had bought takeout for dinner but Lou wasn’t in any mood to eat. She was antsy but keeping it down so her friend won’t notice. Maybe you were called in at work? Maybe you went out with a friend and forgot to send her a text. The blonde knows you can perfectly take care of yourself but she can’t help but be worried.

“Where’s your girl?” Debbie asked, reminded of Lou calling someone ‘baby’ when they arrived earlier.

Lou just shrugged her shoulders, not really knowing what to answer.

“Maybe she hit her head and woke up from the truth,” the brunette joked.

Lou glared at her friend. “Not funny.”

“Tell me about her.”

The blonde started to tell her friend everything. From how you met, the ups and downs of your relationship, and how loving and wonderful you are. You were patient and understanding; you were perfect in every way and she hated how she’d managed to hurt the one person that did nothing but love her.

The day you moved out of the loft was the most devastating day of her life. It was way much worse than when Debbie left before.

She knew that you were checking in on her through Matt, and she was wracked with guilt. Even after what she’d done, you still care for her. Lou unconsciously checks her phone to see if you left a message but to no avail. You really honoured your word that you’d give her time, and she was thankful for that.

In your two-month break, she really had thought about it all. She used the time to sort out her feelings. Hell, she even opened up to some of her other friends for help, something she rarely does even with those who know her. Unearthing her feelings.

Lou had feelings for Debbie. She didn’t know if it was romantic or if it was just a deep affection. She didn’t really think much of it. Debbie was one of the few of the persons she knows she could trust with her life and in the conworld, such a person was like a rare gem. It was hard to find, and if you do, you’ve got to treasure it. And so she did.

“Maybe you’d mistaken the concept of love and affection. You told me you really didn’t think anything about it and that explains it. The moment you felt that that person was dear to you, you immediately equated it to romantic love.”

The words mentioned had hit Lou, hard. Once she realized that, she promptly had to find you. She called you, but you didn’t answer. She didn’t know where you were staying so she asked your friends, and that’s how Lou found you drowning in liquor in some alley.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Debbie berated, feeling rather guilty about how she was probably the reason you left for the second time around.

“I do. No need to remind me.”

“I’m gonna tell you to go find her, but I also need you to focus on the job. Can you do both?”

“Of course,” Lou sighed. She won’t know what she would do if she were to lose you for real this time.

-

You were feeling rueful for leaving Lou without a word. You knew she’d be worried sick, but it was the best for the two of you. Once again, you fell into your routine. It was incredibly helpful that an event was coming and you can spend all of your time at work. Though this time, the constant drinking was out of your to-do list.

Your mind often wandered to Lou. She said something about a job, maybe that’s what they’re doing right now. Has she been thinking of you too?

The messages and missed calls Lou had sent you were not in your knowledge as you’d let your best friend hide your phone, and bought a new one for you. At first, you thought that it would be ridiculous and childlike of you but maybe she had a point. The worst-case scenario would be Lou filing for a missing person’s case, but you knew she wouldn’t dare cross paths with the police.

-

“Oh my god, you guys. This party is nuts. I’m not kidding! If your dress is ugly, you can’t wear it, no shit! They will bower your wardrobe!” Tammy rambled and rushed to get into the loft where she got everyone’s attention.

“I love that!” Lou quipped.

“Oh I gotta pee,” Tammy continued to ramble. “Every table cost a quarter-million dollars that if they allow you to buy one! I mean not just any $250,000 check will be approved, I mean they literally have to tell you whether or not they’ll take your money, it’s crazy!”

Everyone was standing outside the bathroom, still listening to Tammy rant about the Met.

“And then you can’t bring anyone, that you clearly go by yourself. They spend a hundred grand on food and apparently no one eats, it’s really crazy,” the blonde finished as she went out, kind of out of breath from the continuous rambling.

“Did you get the seating chart?” asked Debbie.

“The what?”

“The seating chart.” Tammy handed the special glasses she was wearing to Debbie.

“If I haven’t said it, it’s really crazy. This one person that I’m working with maybe is the only saving grace of that place. Thank goodness for Y/N,” the blonde sighed, capturing the attention of Lou.

She shared looks with Debbie, hoping that it was you their friend was talking about.

After discussing the seating chart, they approached Tammy and straightforwardly asked about you, if you were the same person she’d mentioned. Apparently, you quit your last job and had started few weeks prior to Tammy. Lou asked if you’re doing well, and almost cried when she nodded. When Tammy asked why they are curious, Debbie answered. “Lou’s girl. Left because of this dumbass right here.”

The blonde had a surprised expression on her face, a bit amazed at how small the world is. The person they’ve been looking for was only at their reach this whole time.

“She’s sweet. If you’re planning to get her back, which I know you would, you better not mess up.”

Since that day, Lou was itching to contact you but inhibited herself. She’d finish the job first, then she would have you back. If she was lucky enough to be given a second chance, which she wouldn’t fucking waste, she can finally go to California riding with you on her new bike like you always wanted to do.

Finally, it was the first Monday in May. Lou was still in the van with Nineball, preparing food for her. She remembered you telling her she would look good in a chef’s uniform. She wasn’t actually a chef right now, but she still owes you a hundred bucks.

What if you weren’t gone? Maybe you would be in on the heist too, and you would be the most beautiful woman in her eyes, everyone else in the Met is damned. She knew you would have loved and drooled over the green jumpsuit she was wearing.

The heist was successful, and the ladies were lounging at the loft. Their dillydally was halted when an unexpected guest has stormed the loft. Daphne Kluger.

“You guys are fucked,” the actress huffed. “Wow, nice place.”

“Excuse me, you are trespassing-”

“No, we asked her to come,” Lou cut Tammy’s accusation.

Debbie started to explain how Daphne might have gotten a sense of what they were doing, so they roped the brunette in. Daphne then asserted how she was the one who was saving everyone from insurance fraud. Another revelation had caused panic to those who didn’t know, scared that they might be busted and imprisoned.

“We will not be the prime suspect.”

“Then who will be the prime suspect?”

Lou listed several people like the security guys and the busboy. Their attention was focused on Daphne that they didn’t notice another person coming in. You quietly opened the door in purpose, glancing at each of the women inside. You’d heard the last bit of their conversation and captured their attention by announcing your presence.

“The shady guy who put Debbie away,” you casually commented, walking towards everyone.

“Wow,” Daphne chuckled. “The boyfriend.”

Everyone but Debbie and Daphne was shocked, for the third time around. They didn’t really expect guests today. Lou looked like she had seen a ghost but didn’t take her eyes off you.

“Yup. If they were gonna be looking for somebody, just had to make sure it wasn’t one of us.”

You whispered a “Hi, Tam” to your coworker, and took a sit in the middle of her and Daphne. “The precision, right?” the actress turned to you. “The attention to detail, a little grace note that really makes something sing.”

While she was blubbering about how well-thought the job was, she scooted closer to you and put a hand on your thigh. Lou raised an eyebrow at the action, jealousy bubbling in her chest.

“Why are you doing this?” Tammy asked, referring to Daphne. “And Y/N? You were in too? How?”

You let the brunette answer first and when she finished, Debbie had answered for you.

“She was our other mole in the Met, aside from you and Nine.”

“Oh, you were an angel, Y/N. She made sure I was okay after hurling my guts out. Much much better company than my date,” Daphne preached, leaning her head on your shoulder. You rest your head on hers in return.

Lou’s jaw was gritted, it was too much for her and she couldn’t look any longer. She looked at Debbie and gave her a perplexed look, asking for further explanation.

The brunette just shrugged her shoulder, knowing it was up to you to talk to Lou. After all, it was the reason she approached you. At first, she had only talked to you about Lou, but later called to ask if you were willing to join in the job. You’d said yes right away.

That night, you saw Lou sitting near the shore. She was staring straight ahead as you sat next to her.

“Lou?”

“You know, I planned to talk to you after we got the money. But you got to me first,” she whispered.

“You have to thank Debs for that.”

Lou chuckled, “Debs? What, you’re on a nickname basis now? She doesn’t even let me call her that.”

“She told me everything. And, I- I’m sorry, Lou. I shouldn’t have left like that, left you worried though you had a job to focus on-”

Lou cut you off as she pulled you in for a hug. “No, Y/N. I should be the one apologizing.”

Her hand was running up and down your back, the touch soothing all of your troubles. You can finally feel at peace. There was no snarling voice at the back of your head, no heavy feeling. You feel like a sailor in the middle of a calm sea.

“I’ll make it up to you, for real, this time,” Lou pulled back, giving you a smile. You nodded in return.

“Although you may have to explain first what was that earlier,” her smile faded, and glared at you playfully.

You were about to ask what she was referring to when you suddenly remembered. You told her how you may or may not have told Daphne that you were on a rough patch and she volunteered to help make Lou jealous. Both of you shared a laugh as she commented on how effective it was that she had to restrain herself from tearing you apart from the actress.

There was no time to waste, you thought as you pressed your lips against Lou’s. The kiss was slow and passionate, the both of you pouring all your feelings out. Her hand entangled itself on the base of your skull as she deepened the kiss, tongue swiping on your bottom lip asking for entrance. You let her dominate you, a soft moan coaxed out of your mouth.

The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Lou’s lips; your hammering heart and the waves lapping gently at the shore.

“I love you, baby,” Lou murmured, both of you breathless.

“I know, Lou. I love you too.”

[heyhihellowhatsup0]

Hooked On Your Feelings - Chapter Two (FWB! Tom Holland x Reader)

SERIES MASTERLIST

Warnings: Some angst, language, eventual smut in future chapters, fluff

Word Count: 5255

Summary: After a bad breakup, making an agreement with your womanizing neighbor, Tom to be friends with added benefits and no strings attached seemed like the perfect idea. Until things become messy, emotions caused your agreement to crumble.

A/N:  I am HYPE to post this new chapter! Omg I just love writing this series so much its so fun writing Tom like this lol. Also low key...this chapter has an easter egg to a pervious series of mine and I’m v curious if anyone catches it but probably not because its superrr tiny but either way I hope you guys like this one! Obviously, smut is in this chapter! DM me to be tagged and I cannot wait to hear everyone’s thoughts! (Also .gif is not mine. DM me for credit please, I found on google!) Thank you xx -N

“What happened to that girl you took home the other night from The Lace Rabbit?” Harrison asked as he ordered his lunch before he took a seat at the table with Tom. It was typical for them to meet up during the week on their lunch breaks and catch up when they were not busy being wingmen for the other while bar hopping on the weekends. 

Tom shrugged off Harrison’s question as he took a bite of his sandwich, “She got a little clingy so I had Y/N help me get rid of her,” he smiled as he said your name out loud. His friends knew of you as the hot girl who lived next door who bailed him out of sticky situations. Always teasing Tom how he could never actually get you. The irony made it all too funny for him, “How’d it go with that blonde girl?” he asked to change the subject off of him.

He didn’t know if he should bring up the two of you sleeping together with Harrison. Harrison was his best friend and wouldn’t judge but he knew he’d give Tom shit for it. He’d want to know details of your arrangement or how it came about, if you were really that good and Tom didn’t feel comfortable answering that. Not if it was about you. He didn’t want his other friends knowing about you in the way he did. That was personal between you both and he wanted to show you he respected you.

“It didn’t,” Harrison admitted while taking a sip of his water. He let out a chuckle as he felt himself blushing, “Forgot her name and she spilt her drink on me. Can’t say I didn’t deserve that one,” he at least knew when he was in the wrong.

Tom cringed into his sandwich as he let out a cackle, “You definitely deserved it, mate,” he laughed with another bite. His phone vibrated in his pocket but he chose to ignore it, knowing like clock work what it probably was. It was going to ruin the rest of his day and he at least wanted to enjoy lunch with his friend before getting pissed off for the day.

“She’d probably love you,” Harrison teased. 

“Fuck off,” Tom rolled his eyes with a laugh. “I’m not taking your angry seconds.”

“Don’t knock angry sex til you try it,” Harrison smirked knowingly. 

Tom shook his head as he once again ignored the phone ringing, “I think I’m good, thanks,” he brushed it off with another eyeroll. 

He didn’t know why he suddenly felt weird talking about their last venture out at the club. Maybe it was because Tom knew where he ended up after that girl had left and he knew what that meant for the both of you. But Tom wasn’t done with his bachelor days, and even you knew that. Hell, you practically insisted since this was a no strings attached deal.

It just felt strange not telling Harrison about you. Like it was a weird secret. But at the same time, he felt oddly protective of you. Not wanting his friends to see you as some girl he was getting laid with. Or worse, a potential love interest. He knew it wasn’t going to happen. Hell would be freezing over before Tom decided on any sort of long term obligation. But he knew his friends and he knew they wouldn’t see this is a simple agreement between two friends. And he didn’t want to deal with that conversation.

Staying quiet was the better option. For his own sanity. And...well, would you care if he told anyone about this? Tom figured that was another rule he’d have to ask about. He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries and he knew you had a list of rules as well that he was happy to follow. As long as that meant one thing and one thing only: non-exclusive.

Harrison noticed Tom’s phone buzzing for the third time. And Tom ignored it for the third time. He checked the message with a huff of his breath before turning the screen face down on the table, going back to his lunch before he had to get back to work.

“Clingy girl?” Harrison nodded towards Tom’s phone. 

Tom shook his head, “My mother was supposed to visit this weekend but you know the routine,” he mumbled into his food, not even wanting to respond to her.

“Let me guess,” Harrison began, knowing exactly where this was going since he knew Tom’s whole story inside and out. Including the bits he hated to discuss which was mainly his family, “Going skiing with Clint in Veil instead?” he questioned knowingly.

Tom scoffed out a laugh at his guess, “Surfing with Clint in Malibu but same shit,” he corrected as he tried not to let it get to him. But even Harrison could tell he was getting bothered by it once again and who could honestly blame him.

 Always the same story every time no matter what and Tom grew tired of her antics. He couldn’t even blame Clint for it anymore considering she’d been this way since he was a kid before he was even in the picture. Only now she would just use him as the perfect excuse to get out of coming to visit.

He knew he shouldn’t care anymore but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t something easy for him to simply let go of. It was his mother. And no matter how many times he’d try she would always give him back the bare minimum and it always made him upset. She was his one final connection to him and she could care less about any of it, so why did Tom? It always got under his skin and he loathed that it did.

But he would still invite her. No matter how miserable it made him.

“Well at least now you’re free this weekend,” Harrison broke his thought while he gathered their garbage before they headed back to work, “The usual at The Lace Rabbit this Saturday then?” he suggested with a knowing smile to try and get Tom out of his mood.

Grabbing his phone, Tom clutched it tightly as he inhaled sharply. Knowing his change of plans meant doing his normal routine even though he was looking forward to the slight change this weekend, which now just seemed bleak to him

.

“Yeah,” Tom agreed as he tapped your name on his phone but hesitated when he saw his mother trying to call for a fourth time, “The usual this weekend.”

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

Your chest tensed as you got into your car after your extremely long day in the office. Everything around you felt heavy and you couldn’t wait to get home as soon as you could but you found yourself still frozen in your car. Unable to move as the moments from earlier this afternoon invaded your thoughts once again while you tried your best to move in. Even though you knew you were completely grief stricken and didn’t know what the hell to do.

The promotion was yours, at least you had thought it was by the way your boss would constantly hint at it. You knew it was never a definite thing, but you were confident in the hard work you had put into your job and knew you were a top contender for the spot. You worked longer hours, took on extra tasks, you even worked on the occasional weekend to get your work done. Taking every precaution necessary to prove that you were the best fit for the role.

Everything felt like it was lining up for you. Co-workers were giving you a pat on the back for your work accomplishments, your boss was taking note of everything you were doing, and you overall felt really good about where you stood for the potential position. So imagine your surprise when you attended the big luncheon and your boss announced his undeserving son was getting the spot instead of you.

It was both nepotism and misogyny rolled into one and it made your stomach turn the longer you had thought about it. None of it made any sense and it was far from fair. You knew you were the one more deserving of the position, the whole office knew it. Even your damn boss knew but he chose his damn son over you and it felt like a stab right to your gut.

You felt so betrayed and beside yourself as you finally decided to head home. Tears streamed down your cheeks while you tried to focus on the road but you just couldn’t ignore the facts. How were you going to be able to show up and take orders now from your boss’ son? You knew the job more than he did and it felt like a huge screw you.

On your drive home, you tried to make yourself feel better by putting on some music to distract yourself but nothing helped. You felt beyond defeated and frustrated right now you didn’t know what was going to make you feel better at the moment. It felt like the world was against you. Between finding Justin with another woman and your job, you were really batting one thousand lately and you weren’t sure when you would catch a break.

Things were not going how you planned at all. The thought of just quitting your job and starting all over again crossed your mind but the fear of the unknown kept haunting you. You didn’t know which direction to go in or who to turn to for advice anymore. You were slowly drowning and you needed someone to throw you a goddamn life jacket already.

You were relieved to finally be home. Maybe some peace and quiet would make you feel a little better, you thought to yourself while you kicked your shoes off and turned some music on for yourself. Trying to put the day behind you and focus on the present moment while you got changed into more comfortable clothes to unwind.

You jumped out of your skin when you heard a knock at your door, not expecting anybody to come by right now. Pulling your hair up into a bun, you headed back towards the door and looked through the peephole. To your surprise, you weren’t really surprised at all. You were actually sort of relieved when you opened the door and saw Tom standing there holding a pizza box.

“That better have extra cheese,” you asked with a narrowed expression while you invited him inside with the pizza that he would always bring you even in normal times. 

Placing the box on the kitchen table, Tom opened it with a grin as he showed you the pizza pie with cheese practically oozing from the crusts, “Figured it was an extra toppings sort of day,” he admitted, knowing he really needed the escape from reality. Even if it was just a pizza.

“Tell me about it,” you sighed as you grabbed a piece closest to you as Tom handed you a paper plate. You headed over towards your refrigerator to grab you both a few beers while Tom leaned up against your kitchen counter as he devoured his slice, “I’m guessing you had a bad day judging by your pizza presentation?” knowing there wasn’t really any particular reason he’d be coming over with it today. Unless if he wanted something?

You slowed your pace back from the fridge wondering if he was going to pick up on how you were feeling. You weren’t entirely sure if you wanted him to notice. Whenever you and Tom had a pizza night it was merely to gossip about your lunatic neighbors or watch a game together. You talked about casual things but never really gone into depth or prying into each other’s lives. Why did it feel like suddenly you wanted something different? Would sex change that much in your friendship?

“We can just ignore that...we don’t have to talk about unimportant stuff,” you waved it off. Tom didn’t need to hear about your miserable day. And you didn’t want to pry into his. 

He swallowed the last bite of his slice, “If something makes you upset, it’s not unimportant,” he noted. But when he noticed you just looking at him, he raised his hands in surrender. “Ignore my philosophical ass. But I’d like to hear about your day, you know,” he laughed it off. 

What the hell was he doing? He thought to himself. Don’t let personal shit ruin this. Enjoy her company. That’s it. 

“I didn’t get the promotion,” you told him. You had mentioned to Tom a while ago that your boss was hinting at it but you never went into detail with him about it. You weren’t used to Tom actually wanting to be open or the other way around. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t slightly surprised Tom even gave a crap about stuff like this. 

Tom frowned at your answer and he felt his heart sink a bit when you told him the truth about your bad day. He didn’t know much about your job but he was sure you were a hard worker. He saw how much you loved your job and how passionate you were about it when it would come up. You would share upcoming projects with him from time to time and he would see the look on your face whenever you explained them to him. So hearing that you were passed by for a promotion was upsetting to him.

“I...shit, Y/N,” he put his pizza down as he walked over towards to give you a hug. Sliding his hands around your waist he pulled you into him as he felt you relax against his chest, “You didn’t deserve that,” he added softly.

You allowed Tom to embrace you, his warmness comforting you a bit before you pulled away and started crying when telling him about your boss’ son getting the job instead of you. Making you laugh by calling him every name in the book, you and Tom finally found a common ground as you kept venting to him.

Tom pulled away slowly, his hand resting at your chin while he licked his lips, “You’re boss sounds like a fucking prick, I hope you know that,” he told you reassuringly. The small smile you formed when he spoke made him want to keep making you feel better, “I’m glad you’re smiling,” he blushed at his confession.

Stretching your mouth wider, you flashed Tom a playful yet overly wide grin to deflect the attention he gave to you. The two of you laughed as Tom pulled away with a loud chuckle, shaking his head at your sudden silliness, “That has to be the most hideous smile. But we’ll work on it,” he told you through his laughter.

You rolled your eyes before going back to your pizza, giving Tom a look as you nudged him, “Not gonna tell me about what happened to you?” you finally asked.

Tom tensed as he tried to brush it off with a simple shrug into his pizza. The thought of his mother’s texts and ridiculous apologies and excuses continued to drive him crazy as he mumbled into his bite, “It’s stupid shit,” he told you as he swallowed the crust he was chewing, “Mom stuff, not important,” he added bluntly.

You could see the look on his face and could tell it was important to him but you didn’t want to force him to talk about it. Tom was never one to bring up his family ever to you and that was the first time you had ever heard him even mention his mother. He never spoke of his father, at least to you, so you just assumed both were out of his life for whatever reason and it was none of your business to ask.

 And Tom refused to admit it but he wanted you to ask about him. Spending hours upon hours at bars, turning his focus always onto the girl; because he knew no girl would ever want to go home with a self righteous, egotistical guy. It was never something Tom minded to do, especially with complete strangers who he would never open up to in a million years. It might have been the recent development he had with you but there was something refreshing he felt around you and as much as it freaked him out, he didn’t seem to mind.

But diving into his mommy issues with you now seemed too much to deal with right now. You were dealing with more than enough problems with your job and your miserable ex-boyfriend, he figured you didn’t need to hear his bitching right now anyway. He came here to get away from those shitty thoughts, not open those wounds further. 

Tom came here for a distraction.

Licking his lips, Tom perked up as he looked at you fervidly, “Wanna have sex?” he asked matter of factly. He figured he didn’t need to beat around the bush since you had your arrangement but maybe he was a bit too direct with his request. Tom cleared his throat as he tried to save the night, “I-I mean, I just figured since we both had shitty days that maybe we could uhm-”

“Thought you’d never ask,” you cut him off with a smirk and you perked up as well, nodding as you smoothed out your hair. Standing back up as you turned your back towards him, removing your shirt in the process, “Let’s go,” you called over your shoulder as you headed towards your room.

“Oh, we’re jumping right in,” Tom mumbled to himself as he practically fell off his chair to follow you into your room, tossing his shirt beside yours as he practically froze already seeing you completely undressed, “Christ…” he breathed out while taking you in. 

You rolled your eyes as you walked over to him, bringing your lips to his now bare shoulder, “You’re really acting like you haven’t seen me like this the other day?” You laughed against his skin while you began to suck a bruise against him, hearing him let out a gasp while your hand snaked into his pants sneakily, “Beginning to really like this whole friends with benefits thing we have,” you laughed as you found Tom’s lips.

Practically growling into your kiss, Tom lifted you up and lowered you onto your back on your bed. His lips traveled from yours, to your stomach, dipping his tongue into your belly button as you moaned quietly before he brought himself down between your thighs. His lips peppering your inner thigh before he got straight to the point because this whole arrangement meant no foreplay. Another plus for Tom.

“Darling, I think you may be the best friend I’ve ever had,” Tom breathed out a laugh as he pressed his tongue flatly against your clit. Sliding two of his fingers into your core while he slowly pumped in and out of you, “This is what got me through my day today,” he told you before he brought his mouth back to your core.

You arched your back while your fingers went towards Tom’s curls. His name began to fall from your lips while he lapped his tongue carefully, letting it slip inside of you as he continued to tease you with his mouth. His fingers sliding into you again, adding a third as he moaned against your center; allowing the vibrations to roll throughout your entire body.

“Mmm, oh, fuck...!” you cried out, yanking gently against Tom’s hair as you felt the coil beginning to burn from inside of you. Biting your lip to stifle another moan, “Fuck...yo-you’re really good at that,” you breathed out with a small laugh which turned into a whimper.

With his head peering up at you, Tom flashed you a cocky smile with a playful wink as he licked your folds teasingly, “Did you seriously doubt my abilities to make you cum with my mouth, Y/N?” he raised his eyebrow while pumping his fingers now tantalizingly slow, “You’re gonna pay for that comment,” he said to you.

“Just...shut up and make me cum, Tom,” you told him through another gasp as you felt his teeth drag teasingly against your already throbbing bud. His lips wrapped around it as he sucked more harshly, doing exactly as you had asked him to do, “Ungh...oh god, okay. Yeah, keep doing that,” you instructed as you began to grind your hips against his mouth.

Tom took it as a challenge and picked up his pace, beginning to flick your clit faster while he continuously sucked on it. His three fingers now entirely coated in your warmth as he felt you clenching around them. His pants feeling tighter from his hard on while he knelt at the end of your bed trying to bring you to where he wanted.

His free hand splayed against your stomach, holding you in place while he felt you trying to squirm around from the way he was making you feel. Rubbing your clit in between his breaths, Tom looked up at you as he licked a solid stripe down your center, “Let out how you’re feeling from today and cum for me, Y/N,” Tom commanded. 

Your eyes shut as you did exactly what Tom had suggested. Completely coming undone from beneath him while you released as much of the tension from earlier as you possibly could but in the most amazing way. Your eyes rolled back into your head while your back arched as Tom’s tongue continued to work you up while you were at your highest point.

Letting out a breathy laugh as you started to come down from it, feeling Tom begin to kiss his way back up your stomach with a smug look, “Don’t give me that look,” you rolled your eyes at his cockiness as his tongue traced along your neck, “I could do what you just did to myself, you know,” you tried to knock him off his high horse a bit while he pretended to be wounded from your words.

“Ah, but you didn’t. Did you?” Tom reminded you as his lips found yours. His hands still in between your thighs as he brought them between you both, showing you his coated fingers while he tasted you off of them, “Tastes like I made you cum because you wanted me to,” his smugness only elevated as he pushed himself off of you as he laid on his back on your bed.

“Need I remind you that you came to my place like a porno with a pizza looking to get laid,” you retaliated as you shifted so you were now hovering over him. Your hands guiding towards his belt buckle to get him out of his restraintive pants. The pleading look on his face made you just as smug, “Sounds like you want me to do just about the same thing, am I right or am I right?” you sang in his ear.

Tom helped you get the rest of his pants and boxers off, feeling himself spring out as he stared back at you with uncertainty, “Did you...just call me a porn star?” he questioned as the two of you let out a laugh.

“You wish, Tommy,” you teased as you ran your tongue down his abs, placing small and open kisses against his stomach as you made your way down to his legs while your hand carefully gripped his hardened length, your thumb running the pre-cum around his tip while you already heard him gasping for you.

Gripping your bedsheets with one hand, Tom reached around to create a makeshift ponytail to hold your hair. Cussing under his breath as he watched your mouth wrap around his tip, swirling your tongue around it while your eyes searched for his. He was really trying to hold it together but you were already driving him crazy.

“Let’s see what you got, Y/N,” Tom challenged you with a heavy breath as he tightened his grip around your hair, “Sometimes, girls think they know exactly what to do but-OH FUCK!” 

His words were lost as soon as your mouth went straight down to his base. Suctioning as hard as you could before coming back up his cock painfully slow. Moaning your name as his chest began to heave, Tom felt his thighs start to quiver from under you. Even just watching the way you were working on him was enough to make him whimper right now.

“Fuck...okay, yeah I take that back,” Tom gasped as his nose crinkled up while his other hand white knuckled the sheets, “God, your mouth is fucking perfect. Why haven’t we done any of this shit before?” he was in such a fucked out haze, he wasn’t even sure if anything he was saying made any sense at all. But he felt his stress from earlier going away finally. Even if this was just a short state of bliss, he was grateful for it anyway.

“You really want me to answer that or would you just prefer me to keep sucking your dick?” you sassed while you kitten licked his tip. You watched from the end of the bed as Tom bucked his hips into your mouth to try and get more contact from your lips but you pulled away from him and just kept licking his tip.

God, you were good, Tom thought to himself.

‘K-keep going,” Tom finally breathed out, flinging his head against the pillow to brace for the impact.

Hollowing your cheeks, you pushed yourself all the way down his cock. Your tongue flicking the base in between as you began to feel him throb inside of your mouth. You could tell he was close so you moaned softly into his cock, watching as Tom shuddered from the sensation you just sent through him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Tom cried out, moaning your name as he rutted his hips into your mouth. His pupils blacked as he felt the heat rising in his body, “Shit...I’m gonna cum, Y/N,” he warned as you pulled away, running your hand down his shaft as he began to come undone for you.

His warmth spilled out into your hand and down his cock while he let go finally. The stress somewhat leaving his body as it did yours while the euphoric high peaked for him. Your lips crashed against his while his tongue parted your lips to find yours, tangling them together as he moaned against your mouth while riding out his high finally.

You waited for Tom to catch his breath before you smiled against his lips, placing a small peck against them as you pulled away with an even bigger grin, “Yeah, you’re welcome,” you gave him the same arrogant tone he gave to you moments earlier before you pecked his lips again.

After taking some time to get yourselves together mixed with the continuous fooling around underneath the sheets, you and Tom finally decided to get up and end the night. Even though he didn’t want to leave, he knew he probably shouldn’t overstay. Primarily, Tom was adamant about never spending the night at a girl’s place that he slept with. That made things complicated and he didn’t want complicated. But since you and him had rules to not make things messy, he wasn’t sure if that applied to you. For now, he wanted to play it safe so he got himself dressed again.

You pulled on an oversized t-shirt, realizing both of your hair looked a mess. Luckily you were already home and Tom was down the hall so it didn’t really matter. You wanted to say something to Tom, that you were thankful he came by tonight. You were thankful even before sex was on the table. It felt nice to have him as an ally to swing by with a pizza when he didn’t even know you needed that.

“...is it weird to say I’m glad you came by?” you gestured towards your bedroom while you walked with him out into the kitchen where the half eaten pizza was left, “I know we haven’t really made too many rules about it but…” you trailed off with a nervous laugh as you smiled at him awkwardly.

“Like we said, zero weirdness,” Tom reminded you as he padded his way over to you. He grabbed a leftover crust from the box and shoved it in his mouth, clearly starving already from the workout you had just given him. He smiled while he chewed lazily, his mouth still filled with pizza crumbs, “But I’m happy to come by when we have shit days...and make you cum as well,” he smirked deviously. 

The door opened as you smiled back, “Doesn’t have to be just bad days, you know. We could...screw whenever we feel like it,” you told him, hoping that it wasn’t too much.

“Did you just say screw?” he whipped his head towards you with a loud laugh.

“Alright then, I guess I’ll just leave you to the girls who leave you unsatisfied then,” you fought back.

Tom leaned against the door with his mouth gaped open, “They do not...leave me...unsatisfied?” he questioned himself, knowing that that was true, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

“Then why are you here?” you placed a hand on your hip, feeling the smile pulling at your lips while you messed around with him. You certainly weren’t in this mood earlier before Tom came around.

Pressing his lips together, Tom rolled his eye at you, “Fine...we can screw...whenever,” he leaned in closer to you with his eyes big as he mimicked your voice when you said it, “As long as we keep this thing strictly what we intended, you can use me whenever you need, Y/N,” and he meant it.

You didn’t back away when he sealed his words with a soft kiss, paired with his trademark grin. Tom pulled away slowly, taking in the moment as he wished you a goodnight quietly before kissing you against the cheek, “Like I said, best friend I ever had,” he said softly once again.

“Am I interrupting something?” A voice broke from behind the two of you. Both of your eyes widened towards each other as you both simultaneously pivoted your heads towards the staircase where the voice was coming from.

Tom closed his eyes with a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to ignore Harrison staring at the two of you with a crooked grin. Making it known to Tom that explaining this was going to be a lot tougher than he had imagined.

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[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 9 - FINALE)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 7.2k

warnings: smut (oral f receiving), semi-public sex (in a parked car) angst, arguments, implied smut, sappiness, time skips, some alcohol consumption here and there, lots of talking about issues including bucky's ptsd, I really have no idea how to warn for this but IT’S THE END SO STRAP IN FOLKS

Since that night, it had been like a stand-off in a Western movie, none of you saying anything because you had no idea what to say. Whenever he tried to start the conversation, you brushed him off.

You took a cab home from the event. He slept in his own room for the first time in months.

Finally, suddenly, you were ready to talk about it nearly 30 hours later, knocking on the guest room door and entering to find Bucky on his bed, re-reading Flowers for Algernon. He sat up quickly and shut it, setting it aside. “Hey,” he greeted softly, hesitant like you were a deer in a clearing and he was extending a handful of grain in his palm.

“Hey,” you returned, already fighting back your emotions. “I think I’m ready to talk.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “I’m ready to listen.”

“I just… I want to make sure that you understand this is a really big deal.”

He nodded again.

“I had to do a lot of damage control to prevent being banned from all HFPA events— that includes the Golden Globes, you know, I can’t exactly skip those just because my boyfriend went fucking nuts at a party.” And there was the anger again— you had tried to wait until you could be neutral about this but it barely lasted, mainly because you were still embarrassed about the way you’d handled yourself that night. “You’re lucky not many people saw; you’re lucky no reporters were there! Can you imagine if someone had a fucking picture of this? There were cameras everywhere, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking!” he defended. “I saw you with him and he was touching you and I just… I saw red.”

You sighed slowly. “That’s not a good thing. That’s really, really concerning.”

“I know, I agree— you’re right. I need…” he trailed off, taking a breath before starting over. “I need to work on that.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I just… I can’t really be a part of that. You need to work on that on your own.”

He stood up instantly, almost looking… afraid? Terrified, really, and heartbroken. “On my own, like what? What does that mean?”

“It means that I think maybe you should go back to your own apartment for a while. I just… need to be alone for a bit.”

“You need to be alone?” he repeated. “Or you need to be away from me?’

“Both.”

His head fell into his hands instantly. "Please don't tell me I fucked this up," he whimpered. "Please don't tell me I ruined this."

"I— I don't know."

"Please, please, please," he sighed, just louder than a whisper, suddenly stepping forward, grabbing your hand and clutching it to his chest. "Look at me," he begged.

You did, hesitantly, fighting everything in you that wanted to cry (and not doing so good of a job at it).

"Please, I lo—"

"Don't," you grimaced. "Don't say that."

"But it's true."

"It doesn't matter!" you yelped, surprising both of you with your volume.

“Are we going to have a chance to talk about this again? Am I going to get a chance to make it up to you?”

“You don’t make it up to me, you fix it. And that takes time.”

He shook his head, looking shocked and confused and completely blindsided which made you feel sick to your stomach. “How long?”

“I don’t know…” you mumbled.

“Am I not going to see you at all, for however long it takes?” he pressed.

“I… that’s sort of the idea.”

He shivered and pulled you into a hug. “Please don’t hate me forever,” he whispered against the top of your head.

“I don’t hate you,” you promised, doing your best not to hug him back even though all you wanted was to wrap yourself around him and feel safe in his arms again.

“Then don’t make me go,” he pleaded as he pulled back, clutching your face. “Let me stay and we can work through this together.”

“That’s not how this works,” you reminded him

“But I don’t know how to be without you,” he explained shakily.

“That’s not really my problem!” you yelped, and he turned away like he’d been slapped, dropping his hands from your face. A long, heavy silence fell between you as you watched him stand there, contemplating.

“If this is my last chance,” he finally spoke softly, barely breaking the silence, “to say everything I want to say…”

“It’s not,” you assured. “We’re going to talk about this again, but you need to go now.”

He nodded, his adam’s apple bobbing with a swallow of nothing. When he looked at you again, you hated how much bluer his eyes looked when they were bloodshot and filled with tears. “Can I kiss you?”

You shook your head. He bit his lip and turned to walk away; you stared at your feet because you couldn’t watch him go.

You heard him grab his backpack, shoving a few things from the drawers into it; he set his key on the table, walked into the open hall, and as soon as you heard the front door open and shut you were plunged into solitude and silence. With a whimper, you crumpled to the floor and cried, the look of betrayal on his face burned into your mind.

It was obvious, to your horror, that he really hadn’t seen it coming; he hadn’t packed his things, or prepared in any way for the conversation going like that. He had been waiting for an olive branch and got a switch to the face instead. You didn’t know anything about working on relationships, repairing broken things… when something went wrong, all you knew how to do was bail.

You knew how to do a new take and say the line right this time. You knew how to take off your eyeliner and start over. You knew how to kick unsuspecting C-listers out of cars because you already got yours. But you didn’t know how to stay, and work, and frankly you were just too scared to try. Last time you tried to make it work, you got burned. And as much as a logical part of you knew that wasn’t Bucky’s fault or responsibility, your heart just couldn’t survive another relationship where you put everything into putting the pieces back together while the other person stood there and watched you just to pull them apart again.

It had to end at some point, right? It was you, it was him… and that’s just how these things go.

//

He knew it was too good to be true. He knew you were too good for him. Anybody with at least one eyeball and half a brain could see that. But still, he hadn’t been ready to let you go.

Being in his apartment felt like stopping in a ghost town; there might as well have been a tumbleweed rolling through the living room. It was beyond a bachelor pad: it was more like an unfinished work site, considering his ‘couch’ was cinderblocks and a few two-by-fours, and his bed was a mattress on the floor.

One toothbrush. No books. A half-empty shampoo bottle in the shower and some hard water stains he needed to scrub away at some point.

This place didn’t feel like a home, it barely felt like a livable space. It was a three-dimensional homage to how empty his life had been before you, and he realized that was only his own fault.

Then again, this was all his fault.

But still, he had let himself obsess over you, turn you into his whole world and it made him into somebody he didn’t want to be. He had been working so hard to keep you happy, inspired more than anything by his fear to lose you, that he’d forgotten to give you space and now here he was… giving you so much more space than he ever wanted to, or knew how to deal with.

But he wanted to use this, if he could. As much as it was tempting to binge on junk food, drink too much and watch porn for an hour, as much as he wanted to run away from everything he was feeling, he owed it to you and to himself to face it all and learn from it. He wanted to be the man you deserved, if that was even humanly possible; he wanted to be who you used to think he was.

//

The next week went by in a blur: a blur filled with shitty romcoms, Ben & Jerry’s straight from the carton, and phone calls ignored.

It would all be fine with time, you knew that, but god, it fucking hurt now. It made you want to call him and at least apologize for having sex with him when you knew he wouldn’t have wanted to if he knew you were upset. More time and distance from the situation made you appreciate that it was manipulative, even if it by no means justified the way he grabbed you, or shoving anybody in the first place.

Truth was, you were scared of Bucky long before that happened. You were scared of how strong your feelings were for him; and, in turn, you were scared of how strong his feelings were for you. You felt loved by him, and you didn’t know what to do with that. So you self-destructed.

Just in time to tear you out of your spiralling thoughts, the intercom buzzed from the front gate. You furrowed your brow, wondering who it could be, and got up to check the camera feed.

You couldn’t see the face of the driver, just his arm, but you’d recognize that Rolex on his wrist anywhere.

“What do you want?” you asked coldly, holding down the intercom talk button.

"Let me in," Sam instructed.

"And why should I?"

"Cause if you don't, I'll press charges against your boyfriend."

BEEP BEEP BEEP! the gate announced its opening.

You took the time while he parked his car and walked to the door to throw out the wrappers from all your questionable “meals” (i.e., candy and ramen), change into slightly nicer sweats and splash your face so you looked slightly less dead. Just as you came downstairs from your rushed primping, Sam knocked on the door and you turned off the TV, tossing the remote aside. “It’s open!” you called out.

He turned the knob and stepped in with just one foot, peering around.

“Is the Terminator home?” he asked coyly. “Cause I actually think I’ve been assaulted enough for one week.”

“No, he’s gone. And don’t call him that.”

“What?” he shrugged, finally coming all the way in and letting the door swing shut on its own, taking his shades off and sliding them into the collar of his v-neck shirt. “It’s a compliment, and you really invite the killer robot comparisons when you’re part robot, look like a killer, and act like a thug.”

“He’s sensitive about the arm, okay? It’s one of the reasons he… it’s part of why we waited so long to go public.”

Sam glanced down to beside the door, where three pairs of your shoes were haphazardly lined up while his boots were noticeably absent. “And the fact that he’s moved out? When’s that gonna go public?” He always had an eye for these things, the bastard.

“I… I don’t know,” you sighed. “What do you want, exactly? Because honestly, I really can’t handle you right now.”

“I’m just trying to be a friend,” he explained, stepping closer again as you leaned against the breakfast bar.

“You seemed a lot more than friendly on Saturday,” you reminded him. “God, Sam, why did you have to do that?”

“So it’s my fault, then?” he rolled his eyes.

“No, of course not,” you assured, “but you knew I wasn’t single. I was actually happy… did you even want me back? Or did you just want to fuck with my life?”

“I did want you back, really.” He paused for a moment, more serious than he almost ever got. “I still do.”

You scoffed, looking away. “What happened to just being a friend?”

“That’s not why I’m here, this time. I’m just here to tell you that I’m worried about you.”

You took your weight off the bar and circled it into the kitchen, Sam mirroring you by following around the other side. “Do you want something to drink?” you asked, opening the fridge. He opened his mouth to answer but then leaned in as he stared at your hand where it was right in front of his face gripping the refrigerator’s door handle.

"He did that to you?" Sam pointed to the bruise on your wrist. You let go of the fridge and pulled your sleeve down to cover it again but that was answer enough. "Jesus, babe, this guy's fucking crazy."

"He's not crazy, and don't call me that," you frowned. "I don't think he meant to, really— his prosthetic is powerful and it was in need of a recalibration. He shouldn’t have grabbed me, but, he probably didn’t mean to do it so hard.”

Sam didn’t seem too convinced by that explanation, but didn’t say anything.

“Believe it or don’t, Sam, but either way it’s none of your business,” you frowned.

“Right, I know,” he nodded. “I just want what’s best for you.”

“And that’s you?” you pressed with an incredulous raised brow, opening the fridge again to grab yourself a green juice (because you were, again, trying to look like you had your shit together) and starting to walk away.

“I’ve changed, believe it or not,” he explained as he followed you out of the kitchen again. “Occasionally, people are capable of that.”

“If that’s true, then I owe it to Bucky to wait for him like I said I would,” you shot back. “I told him to leave so we could work on things separately. Not so I could entertain your come-to-Jesus moment.”

“It’s not a ‘come-to-Jesus’ moment, it’s just a ‘give me another chance’ moment,” he corrected as you took a long sip of the juice, “it’s a ‘maybe we ended things too soon’ moment.”

You looked at him in silent judgment as you kept drinking, and the way he was looking at you made you glad the glass bottle was keeping your lips occupied.

“It’s an ‘I’m still in love with you’ moment.”

Before you could stop yourself, you spit the juice right onto him, covering your mouth in shock just a moment too late.

For one of those indefinite moments, you were just staring at each other while you both contemplated that you had said he loved you and you had spat juice onto him.

“Okay, I was prepared to get shot down,” he admitted. “This is… worse.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you rushed, trying not to laugh, “I… I’ll get some paper towels, I can get you a new shirt, but it’ll have to be one of the ones Bucky left behind…”

“Oh god, it’s sticky,” he grimaced, as he tried to peel his shirt from his skin, “can I just use your shower maybe?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you nodded, “upstairs and down—”

“I remember where it is,” he reminded you as he stepped past you to make his way to the bathroom. “I knew I should’ve waited to say it until she was done drinking…” you heard him mumble to himself before he disappeared and you heard the bathroom door shut.

But truthfully, it wasn’t really the fact that he said it, or the concept of Sam loving you at all that made you spit out your drink. It was that when he said it, you realized you were in love with Bucky. Which, yes, would’ve been obvious to anyone else but it came as quite a shock to you.

It made you realize that you wanted to make this work. You wanted to be vulnerable, you wanted to try, even if it ended just as badly as it nearly had last week; even if it meant dealing with all the shit that you’d pushed down for so long.

You wanted to have another chance, this time knowing how hard it would be to be without him.

Just as you pondered what to do with that realization, a knock at the door startled you. Who could have made it to the door without buzzing the intercom?

Somebody who has the gate code already, you realized, and your heart sank. You weren’t ready to see him again— specifically, you weren’t ready to be seen by him again. Sure, cleaning up the trash and splashing your face was enough for a guest like Sam, but you had been imagining that when you saw Bucky again you’d be all dolled up looking like you were doing better than ever, like you were thriving without him just to rub it in that you were the best he ever had.

Couldn’t he have just waited a few hours after your realization so you could go to him on your own terms, with your whole speech prepared and everything? As an actress, you were much more comfortable reading lines than improvising.

Another knock made you sigh and set down the half-empty bottle of green juice, running up to the door to answer it.

“Hi,” he greeted soberly when you opened the door.

“Hey,” you nodded back, “listen, now’s not a great time…”

“Listen, I’m not here to cause any problems, or ask you for anything, I just need some of my stuff back,” he explained.

“Okay, it would’ve been better if you had come at another time—”

“I know, I’m not trying to invade your space,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have used the gate code, I didn’t mean to surprise you, honestly it was just second nature but I realize now I should’ve called first— well, I don’t think you’re taking my calls right now—”

“Bucky, please, we can talk later,” you assured, trying to shut the door.

“Can we?” he sighed. “I mean, will we?”

“Yes, but I’m busy right now,” you explained.

“When?” he asked, voice full of hope. “Soon?”

“I— I don’t know, sure,” you shrugged.

“You’re just saying that to get me to leave,” he realized flatly. “I understand, I don’t blame you— god, I just hate how scared you are of me. I’m everything I never wanted to be. I just wanted to keep you safe and now I can’t even do that, now you think of me as a threat. You should have the gate code changed, if it’ll make you sleep better—”

“I sleep fine, just go and we’ll deal with all of this soon— really, I promise!”

“You promised before and this week without you has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do!” he returned, getting more emotional as he gestured with his hands. “I’m not saying this should all go away in a week, there’s so much more I have to do, but… but not being able to see you at all is killing me. And it’s not like I don’t see you, your movies are on every fucking channel, but you know, I don’t get to really see you, talk to you— that’s what I miss, I miss when we would talk for hours.”

“I miss that too,” you agreed, “it’s all going to happen, it’s just that I need you to go right now—”

And of course, Sam picked just the right time to come running down your staircase with only a towel around his waist.

Bucky tensed up as he saw Sam, jaw tightening. "Oh."

You had no idea what would happen. Was Bucky going to attack him again? Would Sam try to hit Bucky? Were you going to drop dead from sheer embarrassment?

Instead, Bucky just sighed a little and looked to the ground, almost laughing though he seemed anything but amused. “You’ve got a funny idea of what ‘being alone’ means,” he sneered.

“Sam was just—” you began to defend.

"No, it’s okay, I see how it is," Bucky informed you quietly, coldly. He didn’t even seem angry anymore, just defeated. "I'll leave. I'm sorry that I… I'm sorry."

And he turned to leave, you reached out and grabbed his arm. "Wait, it's not—"

He shrugged your hand away as he kept walking, forcing you to chase him.

"Don't leave, please— Bucky, I love you too."

He stopped, but didn't turn around yet; you just stood behind him, staring at his back as it rose and fell with a slow breath. When he looked back at you, his eyes were red, brimming with tears and heartbreak. "Don't say things you don't mean."

"I mean it," you promised.

“And what does that mean for us?”

“I… I don’t know,” you admitted.

“I don’t think I’m ready to come back yet. As much as I miss living with you— and as much as my apartment is so gross—”

You giggled a little, glad you could laugh with him again even if just for a second.

“I need more time. I’m not going to subject you to me until I know I can be… stable, again.”

“Okay,” you smiled. “Whatever you need.”

“But maybe we could… go out sometime? Somewhere where there aren’t paparazzi, ideally?”

“Uh, Vermont?” you offered jokingly. “I’ll find somewhere, though. We’ll talk this all out.”

He nodded slowly, swallowing a little. “Okay.”

With obvious hesitance, he leaned in slightly and gave you a kiss on the forehead. You wanted more than anything to get up on your tiptoes and kiss his lips, but it was probably too soon. He smiled down at you slightly before he turned to walk away, and you did the same as you made it back into the house.

“Hey, listen,” you began as you found Sam still waiting in a towel looking completely lost.

“That doesn’t sound like the beginning of good news,” he sighed.

“I’m so glad you were honest with me and I’m still really sorry for spitting on you, and for Bucky shoving you, and for everything awful that went down between us. And some part of me is always gonna love you, but—”

“I know,” he nodded, clearly disappointed but resigned in a peaceful way. “It’s okay. I had my chance, I blew it, and if this Bucky guy has his then I just hope he isn’t taking it for granted.”

You smiled a little. “He’s not.”

“Then I’ll get dressed and go. Please direct me to his favorite shirt, so that I may steal it,” he requested formally, making you laugh, but you weren’t ready to let it go just yet; instead, you stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.

“You’re a good friend, Sam,” you mumbled against his bare chest.

“Yeah, kinda wish I wasn’t though,” he sighed as he hugged you back.

“Kinda wish I’d made you get dressed before hugging you,” you admitted, the awkwardness of his nudity finally catching up with you.

“Yeah…” he agreed in a whispered sigh.

//

His palms were actually sweaty; well, at least one of them was. He hadn’t been this worked up about a date since high school.

But there was so much more riding on that now than there was then. If he blew this, you probably would dump him for good, and he’d become ‘that guy Y/N Y/L/N dated for a minute’ to the rest of the world.

And there was so much more to him than that— he was learning to really let that shine after three weeks of therapy on Mondays and Thursdays— and so much more to his relationship with you, but it would still be pretty humiliating. More importantly, he would be heartbroken if he never got a chance to hold you again, kiss you again, tell you he loved you not during a fight…

His eyes glanced to the door instinctively when someone stepped in, but it still wasn’t you. He checked his watch and closed his eyes: it was still a few minutes early, you probably wouldn’t be here until 6:30, since that was when you’d agreed to meet when you discussed all this over text. But the length of time between 6:27 and 6:30 just seemed to keep getting longer and longer.

When you finally walked in, it was like one of those movie moments where everything slowed down, the ambient noise and background music faded away, and all he could see was you. If this was it, at least he got to see you like this one last time.

He waved you over, watching you walk closer and feeling his heart race as you pulled him into a hug.

“I missed you,” he blurted out right away.

“Missed you too,” you mumbled back, pulling from the embrace as he moved to pull out your chair for you.

“So,” he began as he sat down, “do you… want me to go first? Or do you want to go first?”

“I love you,” you said instantly, and he couldn’t fight a wide smile.

“I love you too,” he whispered back.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” you grinned, “I think you should go first.”

“Well, now that you say that suddenly I forget everything I’ve been practicing in the mirror all day,” he chuckled. “I already told you I’ve been in therapy, and they finally got me on stuff for my PTSD… it feels weird to say it, to talk about it like I really have it… but I do, and I’m working on not being ashamed of that. What I am ashamed of is the way I treated you that day, how I let my anger get the best of me and how I hurt you when you’re the most important person in my life. You didn’t deserve that. And if I haven’t said it enough, I’m truly sorry.”

“I know,” you nodded, “thank you. I’m glad you’re getting help… I don’t want to see you like that for your own sake, too.”

“Just because you don’t hate me doesn’t mean you have to forgive me. And just because you forgive me doesn’t mean you have to take me back,” he reminded you softly.

“But I do forgive you, and I do want you back,” you promised. “And I want to apologize, too, for the things I did wrong… obviously it’s basically impossible for me to hurt you physically, you’re so much stronger than I am, but I hurt you with how I handled some things and I regret that.”

“It did hurt, but I still reacted poorly at basically every turn. I shouldn’t have gotten jealous of Sam in the first place, if you and him have something going on then that’s none of my business—”

“Of course it’s your business, Bucky, you’re my boyfriend!” you laughed. “You don’t need to be jumping for joy when I talk to my ex, you just need to not be that aggressive about it.”

“Am I your boyfriend?” he asked sheepishly. “Is he your ex?”

"When you came over the other day, and he was there… nothing happened, really. He came over, I told him I didn't want to be anything more than friends, he asked to use my shower… I don't know how to prove it to you—"

"You don't have to," he shook his head. "If you say nothing happened, then nothing happened."

“I mean, we hugged,” you remembered. “And he took your Fleetwood Mac shirt.”

“He what?” Bucky yelped, but then calmed himself down immediately. “Whatever, it’s fine, the point is that I have a lot of shit I still need to work on. Because the truth is, you’re not mine—”

“No, I—”

“Really, you’re not. You’re your own person. That’s what made me fall in love with you in the first place, I love that you’re independent and strong and… maybe a little crazy, but you’re exactly who you need to be. You don’t belong to me.”

“I don’t mind belonging to you as long as it’s fair, Bucky; as long as we belong to each other.”

“Sweetheart, you always had me,” he laughed. “From day one.”

“Then let’s figure your shit out. Believe it or not, I’ve got shit too… commitment issues, abandonment issues, daddy issues—”

“Ooh, I have that one too!” he beamed, making you laugh. “You know, when I was talking to my therapist, she had me do this thing where I talked about my hopes and stuff and, I don’t know, maybe it’s dumb but I wanted us to do that. I want to know what you’re hoping for for this.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “well, I’m hoping that you’ll move back in soon but not right away, maybe in a few months? I want us to get better at being apart, it’ll come in handy when I have to go to far off places for filming and stuff.”

“Totally with you,” he agreed, “might have to start buying some real furniture for my place though.”

“What about you?” you prompted.

“I’m hoping that you still think I'm cute enough to put up with some of my crap," he smirked, "if not all of it."

"Definitely," you grinned.

“I’m hoping that in the future, if you’re upset, you’ll tell me and we can work it out, and then have make-up sex," he added.

“Deal,” you chuckled.

“And, if I’m being honest,” he continued, leaning in closer and lowering his voice, “I’m hoping that I can take you home tonight.”

It was so simple, but it made a shiver run down your spine. This distance had caused more than just your heart to grow fonder, and you were craving his touch more than ever. “Where’s home?” you asked coyly.

“It’s wherever you wanna go,” he purred. “Your place, my place, the back of your car—”

“That one,” you nodded eagerly, “definitely that one.”

//

You wanted to go right then and there but he made you sit through the whole dinner, with all the trappings of wining and dining, though for you it sometimes felt more like whining and dying because you needed him so bad you couldn't think. But he stayed patient, keeping up the conversation, asking more about a new project you were tentatively linked with, telling you more about the newest improvements to his prosthetic.

He picked up the check, which was absurd to you but he insisted, and escorted you to your car as if his intentions were just gentlemanliness even though you knew it was far worse than that.

He (gently) pinned you up against the side of the car, kissing you slowly, making you melt like it was no effort for him at all. As his lips made their way to your ear, he whispered to you darkly, "get in the back and spread your legs for me."

You were sure you'd never obeyed an instruction so fast, hopping in and happily watching him climb in behind you. He instantly knelt down between your spread legs, holding you by your thighs as he pushed your dress up, and you were already lifting your hips up to let him pull your panties down to your ankles.

"So eager," he whispered happily, kissing his way up one of your legs and never breaking his gaze away from yours. Your mouth fell slack as you watched him get higher and higher, closer to where you were already dripping with need. "Been wanting to do this since that night, however many months ago, where I had to watch somebody else do this to you," he admitted with a grin that nipped at your inner thighs. "I know I've tasted you a thousand times since then, but I wanted to do it here."

There was a lot you could say to that, but it was all lost to a gasp as he licked one long, thin stripe right across your entrance and over your clit. Already you were shaking and grabbing his hair— he'd grown it out just enough that you could really dig your fingers into it, but even so he kept his teasing pace.

He kept going, that slow and torturous cycle where just as your clit got some much-needed attention, he started back over at your leaking opening again.

"The fuck are you doing down there, trying to figure how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop?" you finally groaned, making him chuckle at how demanding you'd become.

"I'm just making sure I do this right," he dismissed. "Want more, baby?"

"Please," you shuddered. "Need your tongue inside me."

He grinned and put you out of your misery, really latching his lips onto you now as he pushed his tongue inside and curled it against your g-spot. It was enough to make your back arch dramatically and your fingers clench on his hair, a little growl echoing out of his mouth and into your body in response.

Your legs were accidentally clamping down on his head each time he sucked on your clit, but he didn't seem to mind, if anything it egged him on.

"C-close, so close," you chanted our warning as his hands tightened on your thighs he gave wide laps to your throbbing button.

"Say you love me baby," he mumbled his demand against your skin.

"Bucky, yes, I love you," you whimpered. "Love you so much, fuck, I'm gonna come…"

He nodded as he wrapped his lips around your clit and kept sucking, harder than ever, until your whole body was literally quaking and you weren't sure if you had closed your eyes or if your vision just went black for a second. As if that weren't enough, he kept going until you had to push him off of you by his forehead, shivering and catching your breath as aftershocks rocked your body.

"You're so amazing," he groaned huskily as he sat up and pulled you into a rough kiss, the taste of your pleasure coating your tongue as it tangled with his. Just as you were about to reach down and attempt to operate his belt buckle with your tingling fingers, he pulled back from the kiss a moment too soon. "And now you get to drive yourself home," he grinned, patting you on the cheek reassuringly.

"What? That's it?!" you squawked.

"You just came so hard you nearly blacked out and you're asking me if that's it?" he smirked incredulously.

"I just thought you would want to, you know… go all the way," you explained, cringing at the immature phrase.

"Hey, I'm a gentleman, and this is still our first date," he reminded you.

"But aren't you, you know…?"

"Oh, I am," he nodded quickly, leaning in to bite at your neck. "Don't worry about me, princess, I can take care of myself." He chuckled at your whimper and pulled back to look right into your eyes. "But it's not about me, is it? You want my cock all for yourself, don't you?"

You nodded, making him giggle sweetly.

"Well, you're just gonna have to wait," he cooed, poking the tip of your nose with his finger and laughing harder at your needy whine. "We'll go out again next weekend and maybe if it goes well, it'll lead to something more, alright?"

"Okay," you sighed, "I can wait a week. I think."

He smiled and kissed you again, helping you pull your panties back up and rubbing your thigh appreciatively. "Goodnight," he whispered against your lips, slipping out of the car and shutting the door behind him.

You sighed and let your head fall back against the seat, watching out the window as he walked back to his bike. You hated to see him go, but you did love watching him walk away.

//

two years later…

“Will the Six Million Dollar Man be joining us?” Sam asked with a smirk as he glanced to the door of the bowling alley, checking to see if anyone had walked in.

“When he gets off of work,” you promised.

“Why do you call him that?” Natasha asked Sam innocently.

“You’ll see,” Sam promised, kissing his girlfriend on the cheek, but you figured there was a pretty good chance she wouldn't get the reference anyway.

Right on cue, Bucky appeared in the doorway and you and Sam waved him to the correct lane. “Hey guys,” he greeted, “hey babe,” he pulled you into a quick kiss. “And happy birthday, Sam.”

“Shh, keep it down, we don’t want any Hollywood people to find out that I’m aging,” Sam joked. “Are you gonna join the game or just observe?”

“I’ll join, if it’s not too late,” Bucky decided.

“Since when do you bowl?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“Since I got the prosthetic recalibrated to throw the perfect strike every time,” he winked.

Beers and turns went pretty quickly after that, light conversation interspersed in between, until the more raucous parts of the evening died down and you left Bucky for a moment to join Sam at the bar.

Sam nodded to acknowledge you as you leaned beside him, and you ordered yourself one more drink before you called it a night.

“So, Natasha,” you started the conversation, watching the way Sam couldn’t hide his smile. “She’s great.”

“Yeah, she’s really something,” he agreed. “I wanted you guys to meet her sooner, but you were gone filming for so long and all.”

“Don’t fuck this one up, Sam,” you threatened.

“I’m trying not to!” he defended, before looking around like he was trying to make sure no one was looking. As you furrowed your brow and wondered what he was up to, he pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket and showed you a picture: a ring, with a massive diamond and accents of citrine.

“Holy shit…” you sighed, pulling the phone closer to get a better look.

“Had it custom made, I’m gonna pick it up tomorrow,” he explained, putting the phone away. “I don’t even know how I’m gonna ask her yet… I just know I need to snag this one before she slips through my fingers.”

“You’re really like a whole new man,” you realized aloud.

“I’m telling you, this girl… she really changed everything for me,” he sighed wistfully, and you nodded because you knew what that was like.

“I knew you just needed a good woman to straighten you out, Wilson,” you joked, patting him on the shoulder, “my only mistake was ever thinking it was me.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I thought it was you, too,” he smiled softly. “I really loved you, even when I was stepping out on you… and I think I needed to love you, and to lose you, to be here now.   So, thank you.”

“Uh, you’re welcome, I guess,” you laughed a little, taking a slow sip of your drink.

“And if she says yes, I’m gonna need all the marriage advice you have to offer,” he bargained.

“I mean, we’ve only been married for a month,” you chuckled, “I don’t think we’re far enough into it to really provide significant guidance.”

“And you’ve already gone through so much together.  Is he doing alright?  You know, his nightmares and stuff…”

You glanced over and where Bucky and Natasha were chatting, admiring how at ease he looked; he usually had a harder time with new people.  “Yeah, it’s been a lot better, he’s on new meds… how did you know about that?”

“He talks to me sometimes,” Sam admitted.  “And as someone who has played a PTSD-striken veteran in not one, but two major motion pictures, I’m sort of an expert,” he winked, but then got serious again.  “I would’ve asked him how he was doing myself but he wouldn’t let me ask him personal stuff on my birthday.”

“I bet he’d let you ask him for his opinion on the ring you just showed me.”

“Um, why would I want his opinion when he bought you that?” he grimaced, pointing at the ring on your finger.  “I mean, sapphires?  Really?”

“Cut it out,” you laughed, shoving him on the shoulder.

“Okay, fine,” he relented. 

“Are you coming to my premiere tomorrow, by the way?” you asked.  “I have it on good authority you were invited, since I demanded it.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he nodded, “Nat really wants to go, too.  She’s a big fan of your work.”

“Well, tell her she was great in that one about the missing girl,” you replied.  

“I’ll be sure to tell her exactly that.”

“We should head home, you know how early premiere prep starts,” you sighed with an exhausted roll of your eyes, finishing the last of your drink before grabbing Sam on the shoulder.  “Good luck with however you decide to pop the question with Nat.  Let me know if you need anything.”

He nodded and let you go, and once you got Bucky’s attention and said goodbye to Nat, the two of you made your way out back to the car.

“I’m glad you and Sam get along,” you reminded him as you squeezed his hand.

“What gives you that impression?” he scoffed.

You shook your head and smiled, letting him walk you to the car in silence.

Less than 24 hours later, you held his hand in just the same way as you sat beside each other in the screening auditorium, watching your latest film fade to black and hearing the crowd at the premiere— mostly cast, crew, and critics— erupt into applause.

"I have a little surprise for you," you whispered in his ear as the credits began to flash.

"I am not gonna let you blow me in this crowded theater," he instantly scolded.

"No, not that," you giggled, although you secretly wondered how much less crowded the theater would have to be for him to let you try it.  "Just wait until my name comes up."

Written and Directed by Hope Van Dyne

A Paramount Pictures Film

In Association with Europa

And then there it was, in big white letters, just as much of a trip to see as the first time you saw your name on the big screen.  But something very important had changed.

Y/N Y/L/N-Barnes

Everyone at the screening was clapping and cheering, but you were so focused on him that his whisper was the only thing you heard.  "Sweetheart," he gasped, and you smiled wide.  "You didn't have to—"

"I wanted to."

"It's just a stage name, if you want to keep it the same—"

"Buck, really.  I want your name there with mine."

"But your credits…" he protested, though the break in his voice made it clear he was tearing up.  "You're an actress and you've established your career already and it's so important to you—"

"Hey," you soothed, reaching up to brush your hand over his cheek, forcing him to look at you.  "Your wife is the most important thing I've ever been."

[aliensunflower-fics]

How to Exploit Kindness [A New Kind of Lila Salt Prompt]

[ Ive seen Lila and Class salt that goes a lot of different ways. In some Lilas a sad lonely girl who will do anything for friends and the class fall for her lies through a mixture of manipulation and Lila’s genuine sad lonely but real persona. In others Lila is insane and the class get basically sucked into her cult. And in others still, Lila slowly breaks the class down by preying on there insecurities, hidden jealousies ect. There are the versions where Lila just bribes the class with connections and the versions where Lila frames Marinette until no one believes her. But I wanted to write a new idea for people to use, one that I feel is a bit more realistic. One where Marinette’s classmates are more their more authentic kind selves but still get slowly pulled into Lila’s web and where Lila is just a bit more intelligent. ]

[ As usual with all my prompts feel free to borrow the idea to write for your own thing salt, sugar, cuteness angst ect just be sure to credit me for the idea so I can read it. ]

Lila was furious! This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! She was supposed to be everyone's friend! She was supposed to finally get a cute perfect boyfriend who would cherish her like she deserved! She was supposed to be HAPPY! But no, the pathetic beetle Ladybug and that goody two shoes Marinette kept ruining everything!

No… No that wasn’t quite true. As much as she wanted to blame her problems on those two it wasn’t entirely their faults. Honestly Lila wasn’t quite sure what had happened. Her lies had been working at first, they had gotten her praise and compliments and adoration and friendship! But now? Now they were all ignoring her, unimpressed by her celeb lies! She could not understand it! At first she’d been sure it was Marinette or Ladybug maybe even Adrien had turned on her! But when she’d probed for information she’d learned that none of them had blown the whistle. So what was it! Tomorrow… Tomorrow she will find out one way or another. She needed to get them back under her thumb somehow.

 It was Chloe who gave Lila her answers. Chloe was the reason none of her classmates cared about her stories! Chloe was the idiot mayor's brat. And what a brat she was constantly wiggling her way into her mothers fashion shoots or had celebrities over at the hotel. Of course Lila’s classmates didn’t care about Lila’s celebrity connections because Chloe was always name dropping just as many people as herself. The only difference was Lila used fake modesty and shyness that made her ‘friends’ view her lies in less of a gloating light than Chloe’s haughty claims of celebrity meetings.

It was a damn shame, celebrity lies were her bread and butter, they were exciting got people to think you were important and they were hard to prove or disprove allowing Lila to easily get around the messy little detail of ‘proof’ if someone asked for pictures all she could say was that her mom didn't let her take any because she didn't want her precious daughter being targeted by crazy fans. And if someone asked her to use her celebrity connections? Well she could just turn on the water works and cry about them just being her friend for her connections. Thus her prey would be forced to be her ‘friend’ , always listening to her and doing things for her, unable to ask for anything in return. Then when her mother announced their next move Lila would tearfully say goodbye and leave all her suckers behind. But without the sway of her celebrity lies her system broke down. That was the problem with picking the school full of rich talented idiots she supposed.

Well with Chloe ruining her system she’d need a new one. Scrolling through her classmates' social media for a clue she sneered at their overly cheerful and cutesy posts. Always encouraging one another and posting encouraging puff pieces about this or that. Always acting like they were so nice. As Lila scrolled over a charity fundraiser event that Alya had retweeted from Milene a sudden thought crossed her mind. Her classmates were very ‘nice’ and annoyingly so. They were always butting into each other's business, always being SO concerned, always organizing events to help each other and appreciate each other and going to charity events.

In fact now that she thought about it the stories that had intrigued her ‘friends’ always had some sort of charity garbage attached. Saving Jagged’s kitten or raising money for some cause or other that always got her heaps of praise. Sure saying Clara whatshername stole her dance moves got attention but not in the same way saying she raised money for some green project. Was it really that simple? Sure her classmates all loved Marinette for her extreme generosity and kindness but was it REALLY that simple? She needed to check.

 It was actually that easy. One simple little lie about how she pulled a blind old man out of danger when he was nearly run over and suddenly the class was bathing her in praise. And the ‘fact’ that the whole very real thing made her miss first period and sprain her ankle? Well that was just the cherry on top. Suddenly Max was offering her a copy of his notes and everyone was back to caring for her like she was a princess. The fact that Marinette looked like she was seething only for sweet naive Adrien to keep her mouth shut was just so perfect. She’d found her golden ticket. Her classmates were truly ‘good kind people’ and nothing could be exploited quite like kindness.

With this knowledge Lila would easily be able to destroy Marinette, sure she wouldn’t be able to do it quickly but slowly she would replace her, with every good deed she made up with every act of false modesty she would build a reputation greater than Marinette’s she would replace her and become there new ‘everyday ladybug’ and the best part was she wouldn’t have to say ANYTHING against Marinette. Not. A. Thing. No sweet righteous Marinette would eventually snap, sadly for her it would probably be too late with how much control Adrien had over her, so when it happened Marinette would look like the jealous crazy girl going after the girl that was kinder, sweeter, and better than herself. As for Adrien… Well she had a hard time believing it at first but he really was an idiot with a pretty face as long as she was careful as she built her new reputation he would genuinely believe that she was changing for the better and then he'd fall for her.

The best part was, her classmates were genuine. As she built her new good girl heart of gold persona they would genuinely come to love her, all the loyalty Marinette got to enjoy all the perks of being friends with such talented, kind, sweet people would become hers. Slowly no matter how Marinette struggled she would lose, eventually she’d have nothing left. Of course she’d need to be careful with her lies but that was easy. Bring the class to a charity here and there and tell them that she was the one who gave the idea for the charity to the actual organizer but didn't want any credit because she was just that kind and humble. If they tried to make her do actual work then she’d have a sudden accident that would require she sit down.

And then once she’d done more photoshoots with Adrien for Gabriel she’d ‘convince’ the man that a charity would make him look good and boost sales. She’d MAKE her lies true all while winning over her future father in law, and heck maybe she’d even pocket a little of the money, she could use a better wardrobe and the extra would be perfect to buy her ‘friends’ the occasional ice cream or presents. In between that she’d just lie about saving people or volunteering on weekends. Maybe even let it ‘slip’ how she was a temp hero for Ladybug . One of the sweetest parts was that between volunteering with Lila, there own activities and hanging out with Lila so she could ‘thank them for their hard work’ no one would be spending a second hanging out with sweet pink little Marinette, they'd abandon her without even realizing it because they’d be SO busy. Sadly this plan of hers would take a little more work then her others, but it would be worth it to become the queen bee of the class- NO the school! And when Marinette eventually slipped up and looked like the biggest jealous bully in the school. Well she’d have no choice but to leave the school with her tail in between her legs.

Victory was looking sweet and satisfying.

 [ And where it goes from here is up to you. Lila can win, she can slowly convince the class and school that she's a model citizen and an everyday hero. She can sneakily maneuver the class to not spend time with Marinette slowly separating the girl from her friends. In this way Alya and the rest of them don't become evil salty versions of themselves who overnight hate Marinette and love Lila, but rather they are good naive people who got slowly separated and tricked by someone who wants to use their genuine talents and skills to make herself look better. Adrien who is already shown to be naive and wants to believe the best in people, can fall into Lila’s trap and become genuinely convinced that his high road method really worked and ‘reformed’ Lila into a better person. OR Lila can fail, she can claim to be the wrong temporary hero for ladybug, or she can pick the wrong charity to lie about, or get exposed any number of ways and the class can realize with horror that because they are kind but flawed people who are perhaps too trusting and gullible that they got pulled away from Marinette through subtle manipulation and so they can be redeemed because instead of turning into outright bullies they stayed the same kind people they always were but just got genuinely tricked which is something that can actually happen in real life. You can go heavy salt where Marinette does eventually leave the school or class heartbroken that her kind friends have fallen prey to a bad person Marinette cant find a way to expose. Or you can go clever salt where Marinette figures out Lila’s plan and fights her from the inside slowly exposing the cracks in her facade. Or you can go sugar and redemption where maybe just maybe Lila actually LIKES being nice to people and having real friends who dont care about her fake celeb connections, maybe she honestly redeems herself and even makes amends with Marinette. You can do genuinely anything with this idea and I hope to see this generate some new less *and suddenly everyone is evil* content for those that like salt and angst. ]

[readerstories]

Tie Reveal - Aaron Hotchner x male!reader

What is it with me and turning short and sweet ideas into long one shots? Yeah so anyway, enjoy (AO3)

Warnings/tags: relationship rreveal, fluff and humor, light angst

Wordcount: 2837

Summary: You come into work wearing the wrong tie

You hate rushing in the morning, preferring to start your day in a calm and relaxed manner. That’s not on the table for today however, as you and Aaron both rush to get dressed.

“You’re going to be late.” You say as you button your shirt, glad you had had the forethought to grab on from your to go bag, as not wake any suspicion or teasing from the team. Aaron glances at the clock as he puts his shoes on.

“It’s still before the time you usually get in.”

“Yeah, but not for you.” You pick up your ties from the floor, giving Aaron’s to him. You’re quick to put yours on, Aaron mirroring you.

“I’ll just say that I got a flat tire.” You nod, stealing a quick kiss from him as you grab your jacket on the way out.

“Okay, see you at work!” You’re out the door before he can respond, making your way quickly down, not even bothering with the elevator in your haste to get to your car.

—-

You make it to work on time, only a few minutes later than usual, but that can be blamed on the fresh coffee in your hand from the coffee shop down the street.

As the elevator plings to announce your arrival on the right floor, you’re met by Garcia, Reid, and Morgan standing right outside, groaning as they spot you.

“Well, good morning to you guys too.” You say with a confused look at them all as you step out.

“It’s not you, we’re just just waiting for Hotch.” Garcia explains and you raise a brow, faking confusion.

“Hotch? Isn’t he here already?”

“No, so I got worried, so I checked his phone and it was pinging on the road just outside his apartment building, which is weird cause he’s normally the first one here-”

“Are you even supposed or allowed to do that outside of a case or emergency?” Garcia hesitates, and you huff and shake your head at them.

“Well, I’m going to go and start work, like you all should.” You leave the team as they go back to watching the elevator doors, quickly shooting off a text to Hotch to let him know that the flat tire excuse won’t work.

A few minutes later you hear a happy Garcia shout Hotch’s name and seconds later he comes in through the glass doors, followed by Garcia, Reid, and Morgan.

“Guys, I’m fine, I just slept trough my alarm this morning.”

“But you never do that.” Garcia responds, hot on his heels.

“So what’s her name?” Morgan quips, Hotch stops in his tracks to give him a withering glare before resuming his path to his office.

“Ohhh, lover boy!” Morgan teases at Hotch’s back.

“Remember we got a briefing in ten minutes sir!” Garcia yells after him before the door to his office is closed behind him. You hide your smile behind your coffee, trying not to bring much attention to yourself. Garcia leaves to prepare a few last things for the briefing, but Reid and Morgan linger next to your desk, still standing.

“Do you really think that’s what made him late?” Reid asks.

“Come on, that man never misses anything and sleeps light, and Jack is away for a week, so what else could it be?” Morgan glances at you. “What do you think?” You take a sip of your coffee, pretending to think.

“Maybe, or maybe he is telling the truth. The man is only human, and with the amount of hours he spends in the office he might actually just have slept trough his alarm.” Morgan nods, but doesn’t seem convinced.

You all make your way into the meeting room. You sit down in the chair next to a standing Garcia as you often do, Reid, Morgan, JJ, and Rossi joining you around the table, Hotch striding in as usual a few minutes later.

“Garcia, please begin.” He stays on his feet, ready to go as soon as he can.

“Look to the screen my mighty crime fighters, because today you’re goi-”

“You’ve switched ties.” Reid cuts Garcia off mid-sentence, making everyone look at Reid, wondering what in the world he is talking about. He points at you.

“You and Hotch, you’ve switched.” Both of you look down, then at each other as the team looks between the two of you. Shit, he’s right.

“When you came in I saw your tie was the same as Hotch wore yesterday, a grey tie with a Gucci pattern. I just thought you had bought the same one, since you both have a similar taste in ties, but Hotch got the same as you wore yesterday, a grey tie with stripes, which still has the small coffee stain from when you spilled some yesterday.” Hotch frowns as lifts up the tie to inspect it, and yes, there’s indeed a small, barely noticeable speck of coffee about halfway up the tie he is wearing. No one says anything for a few seconds, you yourself have turned into a statue, neutral expression on your face. Hotch is much the same, everyone else looking between you two. Garcia is the first one to break the silence, squealing with glee.

“Omg, omg, guys!” She yells as she hugs you from behind, the angle a little awkward with how she leaning over your sitting form. You’re not stone anymore, but you don’t return the hug before she lets you go. Morgan and JJ are both grinning, Rossi is looking at Hotch with smile, Reid is trying not to do the same at you while you glare daggers at him. Hotch sighs.

“Garcia...” His tone is chastising, reminding everyone that there is something else to focus on, which seems to snap her back to work mode. Sort of.

“Right, right, case, lets just brush past that revelation about two of my best friends, so, uhhh, where were we? Or right! Today you’re going to-” She begins to explain the case, both you and Hotch get a few more glances before everyone turns their focus on the case.

----

On the jet you think you’re in the clear, until Rossie settles in the seat next to you. Which is odd, because you’re the only two on the jet so far, and he usually doesn’t sit next to you.

“So you and Hotch huh?” You pretend to read over the case files in front of you, and Rossi chuckles.

“You know, none of us expected a thing. Well done on hiding it from a group of profilers I must say.”

“Rossi, there’s nothing-”

“There’s nothing?” He’s grinning, clearly teasing as he looks down to your tie and taps it with a finger. “Something tells me otherwise.” You sigh, but are saved from answering by the rest of the team joining you on the jet. Everybody buckles down for take off, and not long after you’re in the air, and then all the attention is on the case.

For a little while at least.

You can tell they want to talk about it, but the case keeps everyone occupied, so there’s nothing else before JJ comes back from the hotel with the room cards. Everyone is spread around doing different tasks, so she finds you alone in the conference room the team had been given. You’re reading trough the victims files for some more specifics on victimology when she places a keycard on the table in front of you. You look up, startled as you hadn’t even noticed her entering the room.

“You’ve seen Hotch?” She asks and you furrow a brow.

“I think he’s talking to the police chief in his office, why?”

“His key card, but you can just give it to him when you see him, since you’re sharing a room.”

“I thought we were past the budget cuts-”

“Oh we are, but Garcia made some changes to the booking after this mornings briefing sooo....” JJ grins and you sigh, rubbing your forehead. There’s silence and no movement for a few seconds, then there’s a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, you know we will always support you guys right?” You sigh heavily, resting your own hand on top of JJ’s, looking up at her.

“I know, it’s just... It wasn’t revealed in the best way.” She grimaces.

“Yeah.” She looks uncertain how to respond, but seems to go for light, which you are grateful for. “But I’m surprised none of us caught on until then, it has been going on for at least a couple of months right?” You try to hide your grin as you pretend to go back to reading the files.

“Well, I’m not a ‘kiss and tell’ kinda guy, but it’s a bit more than a couple months.” JJ laughs and pats your shoulder before leaving the room.

You find Hotch not long after, and when you tell him the whole situation around the shared room, he sighs too, but mostly in a ‘oh what can you do’ kind of way, seemingly mostly resigned to everyone knowing now.

Even with sharing the same room and not needing to hide anything from the team, you go back to the hotel without him. The man is a workaholic, and you want a shower and some sleep, but he promises to join you soon. Instead you end up sharing a car with Reid and Morgan, neither of which say anything in the car, but while you’re waiting for the elevator, all bets seems to be off.

“So, you and the bossman huh?” Morgan teases with a grin as you do your best to ignore him, watching the numbers on the display tick down. The elevator door opens and you quickly step inside, hoping to leave them both behind. But alas, no such luck, as they step inside and Reid presses the button to the floor above yours.

“You know, work place relationships aren’t actually that uncommon. Did you know-” Here you tune him out, once again watching the numbers off the elevator. Normally you like when Reid goes on a tangent, but now, not so much.

“Reid, I will strangle you with my tie to shut you up if I have to.”

“Don’t you mean Hotch’s tie?” The grin on his face is shit-eating, which is rare from Spencer, and Morgan laughs loudly. The combination of it makes you curse under your breath as the doors finally open to your floor. You don’t bother saying goodbye, just going straight down the hall towards the door with your room number on it. Sliding the keycard in, it opens with a click. You drop your bag on the floor as soon as the door shuts behind you, and you switch on the lights.

You can’t help it.

You laugh as you take in the big room in front of you.

Or rather, the suite.

The honeymoon suite by the looks of it. Red and white decor, candles, big bed, nicely decorated with towels shaped like a heart, and some champagne in an ice-bucket on the desk in the room. There’s a small white card right next to the champagne, which you quickly read. ‘Have fun ;) -G’. You snort at it, that woman is a menace. (But also very nice, but you do shoot her text to warn her that she should sleep with one eye open. The only response you get is a winking emoji).

A surprisingly short time later you hear the door to the suite unlock, alerting you to Aaron’s arrival where you just stepped out of the shower. He calls your name in a questioning tone, you’re quick to respond as you wrap a towel around your mostly dry form.

“In here, one sec.” You step out of the bathroom, Aaron’s attention going straight to you before pointedly looking around the room. You lean on the door frame of the bathroom.

“Garcia.” You offer as an explanation.

“Ah.” He accepts, looking around once more. “This is going to be a fun expense report.” You snort at that, pushing yourself of the door frame and walking over to him. Putting your arms around his neck, you pull him close for a kiss.

“Certainly, but let us enjoy it for now, I’m sure Garcia has an explanation locked and ready for the report when we need it.” Aaron tries not to smile at that, but is halfway to failing when you catch his lips in a kiss.

----

The next time your relationship is brought up is on the jet back when the case ends well a few days later. Everyone have found their way to pass the time as usual. Reid and Rossi are playing chess in the one of two seaters, Morgan is half asleep, JJ is typing away on her phone next to him, across from them in the aisle seat is Hotch who has started on more paper work already, and you’re laying down on the couch across from them reading a book.

Everybody is in their own little bubble, that’s until Rossi is standing in the aisle and clearing his throat. Everyone looks at him, even Derek who JJ jostles awake with an elbow. Rossi got a bottle of expensive looking whiskey in one hand, several glasses in the other.

“I believe a little celebration is in order.” He starts handing out glasses, you sit up and close your book as you accept yours, just as Garcia pops up on the screen over the couch.

“What for?” You ask, genuinely curious, giving Garcia a look trough the screen, a very grinning and happy looking Garcia.

“Well, the case went well, we saved several people, and ah yes, your not so secret relationship anymore.”

“Rossi-” You and Hotch try to say something at the same time, but Rossi doesn’t let either of you speak another word.

“Oh no no no, neither of you get to Rossi me. Just shut up and listen okay?” He pours a hefty helping of whiskey in everyone’s glass as he speaks, even Garcia got a glass back home somehow, no doubt filled with something similar.

“We just want you both to know that we are very happy for you, both of you. And though the way us knowing came about wasn’t ideal, we will always support and be there for you.” You and Hotch look around at your team, noting the happy faces watching you before making brief eye contact.

“I want you all to know that nothing in this team changes with this, we’re still going to work together and remain professional while on the clock. There will be no preferential treatment here.”

“What he said.” You incline your head towards Hotch as you look around the jet once more.

“Aaron, we know that. Like I said, we just want you both to be happy.” Rossi says, soft smile on his face. You raise your glass, trying to pretend that the slight sting you can feel in your eyes is just tiredness.

“Cheers to that.” Everyone joins in, clinking their glasses together in loud celebration and happy voices, Garcia cheering with her glass against the camera lens back home. Everyone takes a sip of the whiskey, several mentioning the smooth burn of it.

“So, how long have you two love birds been together?” Morgan eyes flicker between you and Aaron.

“See, that right there Morgan is the million dollar question.” Rossi points between you both. “Come on, out with it.” You grin, trying and failing to hide your grin behind taking another sip of the whiskey, Aaron doing the same.

“Do you want to tell them or should I?” You ask, getting up to lean on the chair Aaron is sitting in. He looks up at you, taking your hand and placing it on his shoulder.

“I think you should.”

“Okay.” You say with a shrug, looking at all of the team before settling your gaze on Spencer. “Remember the strangulation serial killer we caught in LA earlier this year?”

“We caught him and finished that case 6 months, 11 days, and 9 hours ago.” Spencer helpfully supplies.

Then it dawns on them all what that means.

Yells of surprise from everyone, and this time neither you or Aaron try to hide your matching grins. Rossi is laughing loudly while slapping his knee, Reid seems to have lost his composure, mumbling that he should have seen something sooner, Garcia is speechless for perhaps the first time since you have known her, Morgan looks frozen in shock, and JJ is trying to hide her laughter behind her hand.

“6 months? How even?!” Morgan exclaims. You shrug, your grin shit-eating by now.

“What can I say, we’re good profilers and now how to hide our tells.” You glance at Aaron and squeezes his shoulder, who in return brings your hand to his lips for a brief kiss on your knuckles. Garcia squeals from her screen, gushing over how cute the two of you are as you smile and laugh in response.