#i took this right after the other and loved it so much but didn't want to spam

[rafesslxt]

𝜗℘ ᶻ 𐰁 ⟢ ݂ drew vs. rafe buying a dog with reader

warnings: none, fluff

note: got inspired by my 4 yrs old dog and my 'new' boyfriend, he said he would never buy a dog blah but let's me move in with mine hahah and guess who's bathing her and cuddling her now? so, the rafe part is literally and completely my bf <3, english is not my first language

౨ৎ .ᐟ .ᐣ ᡣ��� drew

⤻ with drew it was a easy task. he already loves dogs, is always surrounded by them and grew up with them

⤻ "you've got an album in your gallery of me with dogs?" he chuckled when he searched for a specific photo on your phone. "hey! that's private!"

⤻ you started with little hints like pointing at every dog in the streets that you saw walking by with their owners, especially when it was a couple

⤻ "wow, they look like a happy little family." you gushed while turning your head to look after them

⤻ "this space here is so empty. we should find something that will fit in here.", while pointing at a random corner in your shared flat

⤻ downloading an app with him where you have to take care of an digital little dog on your phones "wanna see If you'd be a good dad"

⤻ then one day, out of nowhere, drew would be like "okay love, what kind of breed do you want?"

౨ৎ .ᐟ .ᐣ ᡣ𐭩 rafe

⤻ just at the slightest hint you would get an immediate "no."

⤻ he says he doesn't have time for a dog and doesn't wanna have to babysit it all the time and take care of it's literal shit "but babe, I take care of your shit too the whole time!"

⤻ yeah, guess who didn't thought it was funny

⤻ and guess who also didn't thought it was funny when he came home and found you sitting in the yard with a freaking puppy sleeping on your lap while your left hand caressed it's fur and your other hand googling on your phone 'how to raise a german shepard'

⤻ "bring it back right now!" "I can't! I bought it!" "If you don't I'll do it y/n, I mean it!" "If you touch my baby, I'll rip your head off!"

⤻ it only took two days for rafe to slowly accept the fact that he had no say in this at all even tho it was his house you two lived in

⤻ "so.. what's his name?" "her" "what? you wanna call it 'her'?" "no, you idiot. I meant it's a her. you have a daughter." "oh lord help me."

⤻ two more days passed and when you got back home from grocery shopping, your dog was dripping wet just like rafe's clothes. you looked at them suspicious and before you could say something, he did. "I bathed her after she shitted herself." you looked at him for a second before you started laughing your ass off, almost tripping over with the two bags in your hands.

⤻ "I think I have a name for her." rafe raised a brow at you, currently sitting across from you with her on his lap, sleeping again after chasing birds and ducks in the garden the whole day. "April." "April?" "Yeah. Something cute but simple. We got her in april and I like that her name begins with an 'a' plus it means lively and fresh."

⤻ Rafe was silent for a moment, looking down at April before smiling and nodding "yeah, it fits her good baby, good idea."

⤻ months passed and you two took her everywhere with you. shopping, chilling on the yacht, you even got her on a supboard.

⤻ on some days you took her with you to the Pogues, chilling at the beach and sitting around the fire at night, laughing and having fun. everyone got along with her so well and she soon became a member of the little family you all were.

bonus:

⤻ after about 7 month later, April was already much bigger. you always took a morning walk with her through the streets, everyone greeting you two and smiling and your happy but protective dog.

⤻ the video that you posted in your story at 7:02 am:

hope you liked it boo‘s <33

xoxo sarah <3

[is-that-your-true-face]

Aww I love this so much, thank you! You even did what I ran out of steam to do and added his helmet back to the scene! Bless. 🙏❤️

Writing isn't my forte but, if I may, I think I can add just a little to that ending from Skull Kid's and Tatl's perspective.

-

Skull Kid noticed Tatl's wings stopped fluttering as soon as Link finished humming, if only for a brief moment, but he didn't think anything of it as he got up and began to recite the melody.

He couldn't work out why Link wanted to teach him a new song now. He should be doing something to help instead of playing music. But this was the Lost Woods. The Lost Woods in a more dangerous and hostile state than Skull Kid had ever known it could be. There was nobody who could help them here. And Link had grown. Skull Kid was too small be able to carry him, even if the Hylian could survive long enough to be reach help.

Skull Kid could do nothing. Making mischief and playing music was all he was ever good for. Immature. Selfish. Useless.

He had begged Link to teach him a song last time. Selfish.

Not again. Not for this. This time, it was his turn to grant Link's wish. And he would not deny his friend.

He would not be useless again.

As he played, he could see Link's remaining eye watching him from behind once-golden hair now stained and darkened. That kind, gentle smile had returned to his face and he seemed to relax and breathed deeper in the soft breeze. Skull Kid couldn't help but smile back as he continued to play.

The draft blew Link's hair across his half-closed eye, hiding it from view. The child took that as an opportunity to close his own eyes and concentrate on the tune to play it as perfectly as he was able. He had been playing the other song too quickly. He would get this one right.

The wind stopped not long after he finished playing and he looked back up, searching for that blue eye that seemed brighter than he remembered it being. All he could see now was a slit of lifeless sky.

He started forward but Tatl beat him to it. She flitted to Link's side, moving frantically like she was looking for something from the now still form.

Skull Kid ventured to speak. ". . . What is it?"

She rested onto Link's shoulder. Her usually loud and blunt voice now so cracked and quiet that Skull Kid strained to hear it.

"It- it 'n't work. . . It didn't work, Link."

Skull Kid could not bring himself to ask what she meant. But he knew what it did not mean. He picked up the helmet he had dropped earlier and set it in Link's lap as Tatl settled against the Hylian's cheek in what Skull Kid knew was her attempt at a hug.

He stepped to Link's other side and joined her. His arms were only long enough to comfortably wrap around Link's head but he hoped it was enough for his old friend that had helped him so many times.

He was too late to return the helmet. But, perhaps, he could protect Link from the darkness that had settled around them. The child shook with tears he could not shed as he held Link's head tighter to his heart.

The breeze slowly returned, stronger this time as it blew in from behind the stone Link rested against. The current that came through the hole in the stone somehow felt warmer than the rest as it brushed his face and enveloped him like an embrace of its own.

The wind continued to blow through the stone's opening in a pattern eerily reminiscent of Link's final gift.

It was soothing.

-

Well that came out about three times longer than I expected, but I hope it's a worthy addition!

Also a few notes people might like:

I can't recall if Skull Kid ever saw what Song of Healing does, but Tatl spent a whole game with Link, so she would recognize it.

MajorLink propped Link again a TP howling stone, not an OoT gossip stone. The gossip stones lack the hole in the middle.

Song of Healing is the first song Hero's Shade ever teaches TP Link (I like to think he was attempting to heal TP Link of his wolf form). TP Link gets that song at Death Mountain instead of in a forest, but, I mean, MajorLink put it right there in epi 1 for the taking.

Also thank you to everybody for your wonderful comments and tags! I'm so glad I was about to make something you enjoy. 🙏

"Can it be your favorite song?" A song that means a lot to you: > Song of Time > Song of Healing

A callback to the scene from episode 1, when Link chose to teach him Song of Time over Song of Healing.

Very much looking forward to seeing what MajorLink and his team actually do for this scene. ❤️

[juniperskye]

Stolen Moment

Based on the following ask: I was thinking it was Hotch and the reader's wedding but it's kind of loud and crowded and although the reader is no doubt excited to spend the rest of her life with Hotch the idea of the party didn't appeal very much because finds that type of event a bit difficult. So, she just hides but he knows where he can find her so he goes and sees her sitting in a corner with all her beautiful dress fluttering around her and he offers to skip the party and she just tells him ‘They’re here for us, it would be rude' but he really doesn't care, the only thing he wanted was for her to be his wife. I had to shorten the ask since it was a bit long, but I truly love this request – My wedding was lowkey because I knew I couldn’t handle a big wedding either.

Aaron Hotchner x Wife! Fem Reader Fluff Word count: 1645

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, reader has anxiety, wedding, wedding type content, feeling overwhelmed, Hotch being the best ever, mention of Jack, pet names, mentions of food and eating, let me know if I missed anything.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“And for the first time, I’d like to welcome Mr. and Mrs. Hotchner!” The DJ shouted into the mic, the crowd erupting in cheers.

Aaron and you made your way into the reception hall, hands joined as he raised them up above you, effectively showing you off to all your family and friends. Aaron turned you around, pulling you back into his arms, pressing a kiss to your lips. Everyone continued cheering for the two of you, joyous to be a part of such a special occasion.

--

The day had been so incredible, everything you could have ever asked for. You had done a private first look, the only witness was your photographer. After the first look you took photos with the wedding party before having the ceremony.

Your ceremony had been short and sweet, with Dave being the officiant, you’d been able to customize the entirety of it. He’d been amazing and personalized it to suit you and Aaron well. After the ceremony ended, Aaron and you stepped away for a private moment, signing your marriage license…but there had been another surprise, you’d also be signing the adoption papers to gain legal custody of Jack. The three of you shared a special moment, full of tears, joy and most importantly, love.

You then went on to take photos with your family and then Aaron, Jack and you took some photos as a family as well as just the two of you as a couple. The location your photographer had chosen was truly spectacular, it had been this lovely grove, the trees blooming with little white flowers, the grass green and lush. It had been perfect.

--

The reception had been scheduled meticulously:

Cocktail Hour (during photos)

Grand Entrance

First Dance

Dinner

Toasts

Dancing

Cake Cutting

Bouquet Toss

Grand Exit

You’d just had your first dance, to a slowed version of The Beatles I Will. Aaron had always been a big fan of the White Album, and that song seemed to be a perfect choice for your dance. Afterwards, you were happy to finally sit and eat, the constant interruption of family and friends coming up to you to offer congratulations and well wishes had been a little overwhelming, but overall, you were doing alright.

Aaron had kept his hand placed somewhere on you the whole night; clasped within yours, pressed to the small of your back, caressing your cheek or neck, or resting on your thigh like right now for instance. He did this to keep you grounded, he knew that this was a lot for you, having so many people around you, but more so the way they crowded the two of you, not leaving any room to breathe.

--

The toasts were planned, you had agreed that you didn’t want to do an open mic for toasts because that often took too long and you didn’t need any embarrassing stories shared in front of everyone. So, the only toasts that were expected were that of your sister, who was your maid of honor, and Dave, who was the officiant…but also technically a second-best man. Jack being the first of course.

What you hadn’t been expecting was Aaron to step up and give a speech of his own.

“I want to start this off by thanking everyone for being here with us on such a special day. For those of you that know us, well you know that I was down pretty badly from the beginning. She had me wrapped around her finger and she didn’t even know it. As our friendship grew, so did my love for her. I thought for a while that I was going to have to settle for being her friend because I needed her in my life one way or another. But then, she came up to me after months of, what I now know was mutual, pining and she said, “if you’re not going to ask me out, then I’ll just ask you.” That was the moment I knew I was going to marry you sweetheart. You aren’t afraid to call me out when it’s needed, you know how to break down my walls and comfort me through hardships, you make me laugh until my stomach hurts, and you have made me smile more in these last few years, than some people do in a lifetime. Jack and I are so very lucky to have you in our lives and I am honored to have become your husband here today. I love you so much sweetheart.”

Tears were streaming down your cheeks as your smile grew. Your guests clapped, many of them wiping their own eyes. Aaron always knew what to say, he had a way with words that overwhelmed you…he was able to say exactly what he was feeling, and you wished you could afford the same luxury. Unfortunately, the words didn’t always come so easily to you. You were able to express yourself in other ways though.

--

The DJ welcomed your guests to the dancefloor, you had been making your rounds greeting people and catching up with some friends when it all sort of hit you…all at once. It was loud and crowded and your dress was starting to feel hot and heavy.

After attempting to catch your breath for a moment, you decided to get some air…that would surely help you to regulate.

So, you snuck out into the back of the reception hall, it had been lit beautifully by the setting sun. Off across the back there was a tree that had grown out parallel to the ground, it looked right out onto the lake behind the hall.  You made your way over and sat, your dress fluffed out around you.

You’d taken a few grounding breaths, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself…despite the anxiety that loomed from being around so many people for so long, it wouldn’t dim the joy you currently felt from getting to marry your true love.

--

It didn’t take Aaron long to notice your absence. Once quick glance around the reception hall and he knew you had gone off to try and calm your nerves. He made his way around to see if you’d gone to the restroom or to the foyer…when he came up empty, he decided to check outside and the view he was met with was breathtaking.

Straight ahead of him, was you. Your back to him, sat on the trunk of this tree with your dress cascading around you. The rays of the setting sun illuminated you from the front, casting this angelic glow around you. Aaron felt so incredibly lucky to have found you in this lifetime. He had been so sure that he wouldn’t find love again…but then you came around and proved him wrong. He couldn’t be any more grateful for that.

He walked over to you, quiet enough to avoid disturbing you, but he also wanted to make sure he didn’t startle you.

“Hey sweetheart,” he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder “you doing alright?”

“Hmm, yeah I’m okay.” You sighed, leaning into his touch.

Aaron could tell you were exhausted; physically, mentally and emotionally. Today had been a big and long day. One that he knew would be hard for you to come down from. That was the thing, Aaron often sensed your anxieties before you did…you had high highs, and low lows. Today was the highest of highs…which meant a pretty big come down was sure to follow. Aaron wanted to do everything in his power to help you through that, starting now.

“Hey, why don’t we get out of here?” Aaron suggested.

“Honey, we can’t.”

“And why not? I’ll go grab Jack and the three of us will go grab something to eat and then head home to watch a movie!” Aaron smiled.

“It wouldn’t be right Aar. They’re here for us; it would be rude. Plus, this is our wedding, we’ve paid for all of this.” You huffed lightly.

Truthfully, Aaron didn’t care about all that. He just wanted to spend time with you. He was so incredibly happy to finally be married to you. Nothing else matters in this moment to him…just your happiness. All he’s wanted for the last few years was to have you as his wife, and now you were. His beautiful wife.

“Baby, it’s all for us. Which means we get to choose when it’s all said and done. What do you say?”

“Okay.” You smiled.

Aaron quickly made his way inside, he let Dave know your plan so someone could be in charge of closing everything up, he also informed your sister so she could make sure all your things were situated. Aaron then grabbed Jack and made his way back to you.

“Ready?”

“Absolutely.”

--

The three of you made your way to your favorite diner, a 50’s themed one called Barb’s. Your favorite waitress had even been working, making the night even better.

“Hey guys, did you guys…are you in…I feel like I’m missing something.” Thresa laughed.

“We got married a few hours ago.” You filled her in.

“Oh, and you guys came here? I mean, congratulations…but shouldn’t you be at your reception or something?”

“I am in our favorite diner, with my favorite two people. There is no place I’d rather be.” Aaron confirmed.

“Well, dinner is on the house tonight. Did you guys want the usual, or something else tonight?" Thresa asked.

“The usual.”

--

Aaron, Jack and you ate dinner that night, laughing and smiling and recounting your favorite parts of the day. Though you knew deep down…that years from now, when you looked back on this day, this would be your favorite part. Sitting in Barb’s Diner, eating a grilled cheese across from your husband who knows you better than you know yourself.   

You had never felt happier.

Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust@khxna @crimesthatnooneaskedfor

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

second chance. l Frankie "Catfish" Morales

Summary: you broke up after a quarrel, now you've met again

Warnings: angst, mentioning drug addiction, crying, breakup, mentioned Santi, some fluff at the end

A/N: I had to clear my head. I'm not proud of it, but I had to write something. Be gentle. Thank you for being here and reading these scribbles.

your feedback is very important to me and I want to thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story.🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

[my masterlist][Frankie Morales masterlist]

"Hi, you look good."

You didn't expect those words, but you knew that voice so well that your heart skipped a beat. A strange feeling filled your body, as if someone had suddenly stripped you of all your insides and left you empty. Even though the pub was filled with people, suddenly it was just you and him.

"Hi, Frankie." You replied, trying to keep your voice neutral. "You look good too."

A small smile appeared on his lips, he probably realized that it was just a polite greeting. A greeting for those who know each other. But you were more than that, right?

You didn't expect to meet him in this pub that evening. It was a strange assumption, because after all, you lived in the same city. However, when you break up with someone, and that breakup was like a hurricane and an earthquake in one, you don't usually try to meet them again soon.

And so it was with you and Frankie. Almost a year ago, maybe a little longer. And now he was standing in front of you. In a clean shirt and dark jeans, in a cap you knew so well. Brown eyes stared at you with the same attentiveness as before. He really looked good. Like he had a good night's sleep, eaten a few solid meals and... was clean.

"Do you come here often?" he asked, he noticed you looking around the crowd of people looking for someone with your eyes. "Um, are you here with someone?"

"With a friend." you replied. "Do you remember Sarah?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I remember. A girls' night out?"

"Something like that. But no, I don't come here often. I don't have much free time."

Frankie smiled, and a part of your brain woke up sending you a signal - you loved his smile so much.

"I always thought you worked too much." he said, winking at you.

"That's not it." you looked down and there was silence for a moment.

You felt embarrassed by his presence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. You had worked through all the bad feelings you had when you broke up, and you actually missed him a little. Did it make sense? You had broken your hearts, but you still missed him. Was it masochistic?

"I've been going to school for a while now. You know, I told you about it. Back in the day..."

Frankie's eyes widened with interest as he remembered what you were talking about. "No, shit! Really? That's great! You've wanted to do this for a long time, so good for you."

A warm feeling crept up the back of your neck, but you smiled widely. "Thank you."

Frankie bit his lip and nodded in appreciation. "I've always thought you were incredibly smart. So that's what's taking up so much of your time now? That and work?"

"Yeah. Sometimes I go days without a proper meal or... I'm sorry, that must bore you."

"No! Go on, darling."

The sweet nickname slipped out of his mouth naturally, and it was even more natural when he took your elbow and led you a little to the side so you could talk in peace. The smell of his cologne filled your nostrils, you knew it so well. Your body began to react with pleasant excitement to his presence.

"And what about you? How's life?" you asked.

Frankie adjusted his cap and let out a breath. "Good. Quite good." he replied. "I changed companies, and now I have really good conditions."

"That's great."

"Yeah, I think so too."

It was late when he got home, but he could feel something was wrong from the very beginning. All the lights were on, and the noises coming from the bedroom were rather unusual.

Damn it, you should be asleep already. He didn't feel like starting another row, and they filled these walls almost every day. However, he dragged himself down the hallway and gently pushed the door open.

Frankie didn't expect this. There was an open suitcase on the bed. He noticed a bundle of your clothes thrown into it in disarray. The drawers in the dresser and the wardrobe were open.

He cleared his throat and took a step, but at the same moment you came out of the bathroom carrying your cosmetics in your hands. You stood there paralyzed when you saw Frankie in the doorway.

Your eyes were swollen from crying, but there was something else in them. Anger and stubbornness, determination.

"What's going on?" he asked in a slightly hoarse voice.

You lifted your chin slightly. "What does this look like?" you asked as well, quickly approaching the bed and throwing your things into the suitcase. With a graceful movement you closed it "I'm leaving. It's over."

A cold shiver ran down his spine. He took a few more steps and put his hands on his hips watching you struggle with the latches.

"Come on..." Frankie began "It's late. Let's talk about this."

You didn't react. Something inside him boiled and he grabbed the handle of the suitcase, dragging it across the bed towards him.

"Leave it!" you hissed, catching it and holding it "I'm not joking, Frankie! I'm leaving! I've had enough!"

"What this time?" he replied a little too loudly "You're making a scene!"

Before the words left his mouth he already knew he had overdone it. Your eyes widened in a second.

You reached into your pants pocket and after a moment you threw something at him. The small bag bounced off his broad chest and fell silently to the carpet. He recognized it immediately.

"I found it in the car. You must have dropped it last time." you growled.

"It's not like that..."

"Bullshit!" Tears welled up in your eyes. "I've been hearing the same lies for months! I know exactly why you got fired! I wanted to help you, and you promised me you'd never... Ohhh!"

You grabbed the handle of your suitcase and pulled it to the ground, then headed for the door. You pushed past him without letting him grab your arm. Frankie had taken you to the edge. You'd been together for almost two years, and you really loved him. But his addiction was becoming more important than you. You asked, you wanted to help.

The therapist you found for him told you that Frankie had only been to see him three times before he stopped showing up at all. He told you that he went there regularly. Then there were the problems at work and he got fired, he started coming home later and later, and when you were looking for something that had fallen on the floor of your car and you found that damn bag - you already knew.

Your heart was breaking with every step, but you knew that Frankie needed shock therapy. You knew you couldn't...

"Frankie!"

You almost reached the door when you suddenly lost ground under your feet. Strong arms wrapped around your waist and Frankie lifted you up. You started kicking your legs.

"Let me go!" you screamed.

"You're not going anywhere! You can't!" he thundered, putting you down and turning to face him "You have to listen to me, it's not like that..."

"Shut up! You've been lying all this time! All this time!"

"Not when I said I loved you, hermosa."

"Oh! Cut this shit! This isn't love!" your face was full of rage, you wanted to hurt him, to stick a needle in him so hard that it would hurt him for a long time "You just needed someone to clean up the mess after you! Someone to pat you on the head and let you do all this! You needed a pussy you could fuck!"

There was silence. Frankie's hands were gripping your shoulders tightly, his eyes darkened.

"You know that's not true." he finally said.

"Yeah? And what of what you're saying is true? Nothing. Zero. I wanted to help you, but you don't care at all." you jerked away "Let me go, Frankie."

"You have to listen to me..."

"Let me go! Now!"

His fingers loosened and you slipped out of his hands. You grabbed your suitcase again and this time you reached the door.

"I love you." his resigned voice reached your ears.

"I'm not so sure about that anymore."

You took a sip of beer while listening to Frankie. He seemed excited about his new job, and the energy that flowed from him was simply positive. His hand would occasionally brush your arm or wrist as you both burst out laughing, his eyes looking at you with the tenderness you knew from the beginning of your acquaintance.

"I guess I'll have to go back now." You sighed, glancing at your phone. "I have classes tomorrow."

"Do you like it?" he asked, watching you text your friend back, informing her that you had to leave.

"What do you mean?" you looked up at him. Frankie shrugged.

"Your life. Now. Because it seems to me that you're different. More fulfilled? Happier?"

"I don't know, I haven't thought about it to be honest."

He nodded, his hand shyly finding yours. "Can I give you a lift home?"

You agreed. Maybe you shouldn't have, maybe it was a mistake. But Frankie had somehow found his way to your heart, and you didn't want to part ways with him yet.

"When you left..." he began as you drove through the empty streets towards your apartment "It hit me. Really hard."

You clenched your fingers, but you couldn't look in his direction. But Frankie clearly wanted to talk, maybe he had been waiting for this for a really long time and could finally get it all off his chest.

"I drank for three days. I don't remember much from that period. Santi showed up at my place and... He told me something I'll never forget."

You could barely recognize your own voice. "What did he say?"

Frankie cleared his throat. "He said it was all my fault. That I was dragging you down, and you were trying to keep us both afloat the whole time. He also said that if I wanted you back, that if I loved you at all, I should do something about it."

Something tightened your throat and your eyes stung from the tears that were seeping into your eyelids. The car turned, you were already close to your apartment.

"I went to therapy. Santi took me there twice a week. It was a terrible time. He had to take my phone because I wanted to call you every day. I don't know how I managed to get through it without you."

"But you did it." You dared to look at him, a weak smile appeared on his face. "I'm so proud of you, Frankie."

"Thank you."

The car stopped. Your journey ended, and you got out, feeling like your legs were almost giving out under you. You whispered a quiet "thank you" and "I'm glad I saw you, Frankie." and then feeling like your heart almost jumped out of your chest, you headed for the door.

"I still love you."

You closed your eyes. His voice was clear, determined. You stopped, feeling like you could fall apart at any moment.

"Frankie..." you whispered, but he wouldn't let you do more.

He was right behind you now, you could feel the heat radiating from him. Your body reacted to his closeness.

"I knew you'd be at this pub today."

You turned around and looked at him, surprised. Frankie seemed embarrassed, but he continued.

"I met Sarah a while ago. We talked..."

He noticed a small frown between your eyebrows, "She didn't tell me anything..."

Frankie shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and shrugged, "I begged her not to tell you. Listen, all this year you were the only thing that kept me alive. I wanted to be clean again, but I also wanted to be able to look you in the eye again. I'm sorry, hermosa... I'm sorry you went through all that with me. It was hell, and you tried so hard to save me."

You couldn't stop the tears that began to flow down your cheeks. You didn't even react when a warm hand touched your cheek and he wiped the tears away with his thumb.

"I still love you, hermosa." Frankie continued. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to stop. But I know I can't expect that from you, not after what I did."

"You hurt me, Frankie..." you sobbed, you saw the pain in his eyes, the same pain you still felt in your heart. "I wanted to save you, I wanted to save us... Maybe I wasn't strong enough?"

"No, it's not like that!" he shook his head, taking your face in both hands. "It wasn't a job for just one person. I understand that now. I'm sorry, I'm sorry I let you down so much."

You instinctively snuggled into his chest. Damn, you missed him so much this year. Almost every day you wondered what was happening to him, or you thought back to the times when everything was fine. There were days when you hated Frankie, when you resented yourself for always having him in your heart. But now you understood - you had to fall apart to understand what was truly important to you.

Frankie stroked your back, repeating silent apologies, and you felt as if all the tension that you had in your body was slowly leaving you.

"You okay?" he asked when you finally pulled away from him, wiping the last tears with your hand and probably completely smudging your mascara.

You nodded, "Yeah. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..."

"Don't apologize, hermosa. You have nothing to apologize for."

There was silence for a moment. But it wasn't an uncomfortable silence, rather one where you were both trying to gather your thoughts. Finally, you were the first to speak.

"I'm so glad you managed to do all this. I'm really proud of you, Frankie. Now... Now your life will be different, better."

"You think so?" he asked, and you looked at him surprised. "I guess you didn't hear what I said earlier. I love you, and I don't know if I'll ever stop. But I know I can't force you to do anything. You listened to me, that's already a lot. Maybe that's all I deserve."

He must have already accepted it, except that he lost you, because before you could answer anything, he slowly moved towards his car. You watched him, feeling your heart pounding in your chest like crazy. You weren't even aware that you had opened your mouth, only the sound of your voice that cut through the silence brought you back to your senses.

"I'm finishing classes tomorrow after three. If you want to go for coffee, or..."

In an instant Frankie turned around "How about for lunch? You'll definitely be hungry, and you said you haven't been eating very well lately."

You smiled and nodded. "Lunch sounds good."

"Wonderful." He smiled too. That damn smile of his.

"So... Are we in touch?"

"Of course, hermosa."

With a slightly calmer heart you disappeared into the building, feeling that the smile didn't leave your face. 

Maybe a second chance really did exist? Maybe you too had a chance for a new beginning...

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[h8aaz]

— facts about demonknife!reader .ᐟ

⛤ she has the inscriptions from the knife going down her spine. sam first saw it when he was bathing her, her back being turned to him so he could wash her. his fingertips immediately reached out to skim over the indented and scarred skin, completely mesmerized by it. her legs also have light handprints all over from being held so much; the sizes different depending on the hand. when her and sam have sex, he loves running his hands on her spine during doggy style, but also loves placing them on his own large prints on her legs in any other position.

⛤ she takes extra time to deep clean the boys' knives because they wouldn't clean her properly and she doesn't want the other knives to get the same treatment she did.

⛤ she's a physical touch girlie!! she loves holding hands or someone's arm, or even just latching onto their clothing. she constantly needs to invade someone's personal space to feel safe wherever she goes because she's afraid of nearly everything; i mean, did you see her when she was turned? she sobbed the whole way back to the motel. bonus points if she can do all of these with sam because she really only trusts him.

⛤ speaking of trust, it took her forever to warm up to dean. simply because he yelled at sam over their new situation when she was crying. plus, he was really standoffish with her and constantly talked about ways they could turn her back.

⛤ she never liked the names her and sam looked up because they just didn't feel right. but one day sam called her dem, explaining that it was short for demon as he had thought of names and nicknames for her for a while. although the hates the monstrosities she's named after, she accepts the shortened version fully as it sounded perfect coming from sammy's mouth. despite the new found name, dean still calls her the knife or sam's girlfriend, with castiel simply calling her 'the girl' or 'the woman' (they eventually warm up to her name over time).

⛤ she also LOVES cas because she HATES demons. it was her purpose to be against them, alright? but she loves the concept of angels, even though they're huge dicks. the two of them are the self-proclaimed #1 and #2 demon haters. plus they're always learning new things together so they're def besties.

⛤ she likes playing games on sam's laptop because she loves pressing and tapping the buttons on the keyboard.

"can you make her stop? its getting late and we have to be on the road early in the morning." dean groaned to sam from his bed.

"she likes the sound the keyboard makes." sam defended as he sat next to her at the table.

her character died and the game over screen popped up. "no! one more round, please, sammy? just one!" she begged with puppy-dog eyes, giving sam a run for his money with how much cuter they were than his, which is extremely tough to top.

he couldn't help but smile at her. "okay, just one more but then we gotta go to bed, alright?"

she nodded her head frantically, practically jumping in her seat to restart the level.

"try and make it quick, honey. dean's upset." he whispered into her ear before kissing her temple, dean groaning again in the background at the click clack of the keyboard, covering his head with pillows to drown out the sound.

one (sam) could argue that she just loves the sound, but it's really the anger that fills dean up when she annoys him.

⛤ sam, unfortunately, had to talk her into wearing a bra as she began to wear tight clothing after developing her own style—which consisted of his old clothes being fitted to her body. he curses himself for the choice nearly everyday but it makes seeing her chest when they're alone all the more special.

⛤ hates being compared to ruby and is deathly afraid of somehow turning out like her. she used to love ruby endlessly until she was given to sam by her, becoming attached to him because of it. sam has to remind her that she's not ruby and never will be because she couldn't be more different from her. what happened between him and ruby is nothing compared to what he and demonknife!reader have now, he loves her so much and will always remind her of that (while they trash talk ruby).

⛤ has bad anger issues when it comes to hunts with demons involved. she gets this pure, white-hot rage in her veins when she sees one. when she attacks, it's the most vicious thing the winchesters have ever seen, and they've seen plenty in their line of work. she can easily punch through a demon's vessel when her vision gets clouded by her hatred, lights flashing when she kills the black-eyed creatures. afterwards, she'll go back to being the sweetest little thing ever. her innocent looks and soft spoken voice contradicting the amount of blood completely covering her, sticking to her skin and clothing like she stepped into a giant blood bath.

GABS YAPS .ᐟ . . . handprints concept is from @sunsbaby's gun!reader!! i hope y'all liked this + lmk what yall think would be other fun facts about her!! likes, comments, + reblogs are very appreciated!!

tags!: @j2archives @dulcescorderitas @deansbeer @bejeweledinterludes @soldiersgirl @bluemerakis @legalmente-loca @immodestly-marina @daylighted @titsout4jackles

dem's masterlist!

dividers were made by me!!

[hivemuthur]

Hii! Thank you for replying. I've read five things and loved it so much I wanted to send another ask, and somehow managed to forget to send it, but never mind here it is now.

I was thinking a viktor×reader who were eachother's first everything (early academy days?) but than the reader had to move away for schooling/work, whatever, but now they're back (sometime after the beginning of hextech) and have to work with jayce and viktor. How would that dynamic look like? They didn't breakup over an argument or because they fell out of love but because that's the way life took them. I'm imagining them knowing eachother so well inside and out to the point people just assume they're dating. (Reader making viktors coffee even better than he can himself, viktor making something to fix a problem reader has but never had a solution for, anything really). And I don't know, maybe, possibly, somehow the tension gets to be too much for both of them and they're both more skilled now and whatnot... (I could live without that part tho, is you feel like it doesn't fit)

Sorry if the ask is too complicated, I've just been thinking about it for so long.

I know it's gonna be a while before you can write it but I can't wait to read all of the other requests in the meantime.❤️

~🍒

Dear sweet 🍒 Janna, hello again! Here's your fic!

Same As It Ever Was

viktorxfemale!reader explicit! a bit of everything - fluff, angst (light), smut

word count: 5,6K

author’s note: this is very freeform, an experiment, kinda? A story told in vignettes, little scenes between Viktor and Reader since the moment she came back to the Academy interwoven with their past, sex included. For this to work, I've written current events in Present Tense and the flashbacks in Past Tense.

artist on X (obsessed at this point)

—

You brace yourself with a deep breath—just as you did all those years ago. With lungs full of air, you cross the threshold, and memories come crashing back. Heimerdinger’s lectures, suspicious cafeteria food, noise complaints from your neighbours when Jayce laughed too loud in your dorm. Your dorm itself—its lumpy bed, not enough cabinet space for your books, scattered notes, and long night study sessions with Viktor.

As promised, he and Jayce are there, waiting to pick you up in the entrance hall. Jayce is as giddy as ever—stretching, chattering, busying himself with the announcement board, occasionally pointing at something to get Viktor’s attention. He looks almost the same.

Viktor, on the other hand—nearly still. He leans on a… crutch? It’s a crutch now, huh. You wince at not knowing sooner. An extra brace on his leg as well. His form is more hunched than you remember. He nods at Jayce’s remarks absently, craning his head toward the door, and his face—oh. It lights up when he sees you, just as it used to. Your heart travels all the way up to your throat.

You have to force yourself not to skip. Jayce reaches you first, nearly crashing into you with his embrace. He’s stronger than before, his shoulders broader. Either he’s gotten taller, or Viktor looks shorter. He pats your back and chuckles a mumbled hi—but your eyes are already on Viktor.

He opens his arms in an inviting gesture, and you slide right in. He still fits. He still smells the same, though there’s a lingering trace of oil on his collar. His hair is longer, and his clothes hang looser on his frame, but he feels the same. His neck is just as pretty, his hands just as strong. They go where they used to—one to your back, the other cradling the nape of your neck. You take one last inhale before he pulls back, a familiar spark playing in his eyes as he says, "Welcome back."

***

You stared at the schedule board, squinting as you tried to make sense of the messy list. You muttered under your breath, crossing out dates in frustration when the door behind you creaked open.

A voice spoke from behind, calm and precise. “Do you need assistance?”

You turned to see him—tall, neat, with a cane at his side. Pretty hair falling boyishly over his forehead, eyes the colour of liquid gold, two freckles decorating his upper lip and a spot under his eye. His voice was thickly accented, and you suddenly felt dumber than ever.

“What gave me away?” you huffed, managing a smile. “Groaning or furious scribbling?”

“Eh, a little bit of both,” he said, leaning in slightly to point at a part of the board. “Let me help?”

You handed him your notebook, and he made quick work of explaining the confusing schedule. “Looks like we’ll be seeing each other,” he hummed, studying your timetable.

Thank the gods, you thought. Feigning surprise instead of relief, you raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He nodded, the faintest smile pulling at his lips. “I’m looking forward to having class with you. I’m Viktor.”

In response, you muttered your name in one breath.

Without another word, he pressed the notebook into your hand, making sure your hands brushed, then turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, momentarily dumbfounded.

***

You follow Jayce and Viktor through the lab, eyes wide as they show you around. The space is far more impressive than you remember—equipment gleams, wires stretch across the ceiling like intricate veins, and the hum of machinery fills the air. Jayce is practically bouncing with excitement, narrating every little detail with an energy that nearly has you dizzy, while Viktor stays quieter, his gaze focused, occasionally glancing at you as though checking for your reactions.

You’re still trying to wrap your mind around everything when the tour finally ends, and Viktor turns to you with a small smile. “Is there anything you need?” he asks, his voice as smooth and calm as ever.

You consider it for a moment, then sigh dramatically. “I would kill for a coffee.”

Jayce snorts a laugh, “Things don’t really change, do they? Do you want to make it yourself as usual?”

“Of course, as you mentioned—things don’t change, which means I still don’t trust any of you with your coffee-making skills, Jayce,” you reply with a smirk, stepping past him toward the kitchenette area. Viktor watches you closely, but you don’t pay him any mind as you start pulling out the necessary ingredients. “Do you want one?” you throw over your shoulder. And Viktor nods with a smile.

You fall into an easy rhythm, just like old times. Your hands work quickly, grinding the beans, adjusting the water temperature, adding the perfect amount of milk—exactly how you know he likes it. It’s almost like your body remembers, and you can’t help but feel a strange sort of nostalgia as the familiar process comes naturally.

The sound of Viktor clearing his throat breaks your focus, and when you turn, he’s standing a little closer than you expected. His eyes are fixed on the coffee mug in your hands, and the way he’s staring at it almost makes you laugh.

You hand him the cup with a raised brow. “Did I get it right?”

He takes a slow sip, his expression unreadable at first. Then, after a long pause, he sets the cup down carefully on the counter, still looking at you, and says quietly, “Perfect.”

The fact that you remember how to make it, that you remember him—how he likes it, what he’s used to—has him speechless. You watch him for a moment, unsure of what he’s thinking, and the quiet fills the space between you both.

“Just like before,” he says, as though to himself, and you can't help but smile.

***

“Okay, coffee or death,” you whined, pressing your forehead to the desk with exaggerated dramatics. It had been your fourth hour of studying, and the letters on the page began to blur.

“I guess it’s coffee then,” Viktor stretched his legs in the chair before scrambling up to the kettle. “I have no idea how I would explain a corpse in my room.”

“I do not care what motivates your actions, I’m just in dire need of something keeping me alive, or I will fail this class,” you mumbled, still buried in the notes resting under your face. A cup set firmly by your left cheek made your eyebrow quirk, and you let out a sigh of contentment.

“Ah, sweet salvation,” you hummed, grabbing it and taking a sip. And then—

“Viktor. What is this?”

Viktor’s voice was light as he shrugged. “It’s a coffee strong enough to keep you awake until morning.”

You winced, shaking your head slightly. “It’s so strong, it could actually solve the dead body problem you’ve mentioned before.”

He chuckled at that, his gaze still on you. “I suppose that’s one way to describe it.”

You huffed in frustration. “Do I have to do everything myself?”

Viktor only grinned, a spark of amusement in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself out of your chair and crossing the room to the counter. “Alright, move aside.” You grabbed the ingredients with a practiced hand, preparing a new brew. “This is coffee, not the motor fluid you made.”

Viktor leaned back in his chair, watching you as you worked. “That’s very thoughtful. I suppose you can always become a barista if you fail the class.”

You turned, one eyebrow raised in challenge. “Just wait, Viktor. You’ll see. If I fail, I’ll open my own shop. I’ll call it ‘Professor Coffee’—I’ll make sure the brew is strong enough to wake the dead.”

Viktor’s laugh was soft but genuine. “It seems you’ve got it all figured out.”

***

You reach out, barely muttering, “Could you pass me…” before the tool is already in your hand. You glance at Viktor, who hasn’t even looked up from his work.

“How did you know?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing in surprise.

He taps his temple, a small smile playing beneath his goggles. “I have a good memory.”

***

You frowned at your workbench, trying to put a name to the tool you needed, but your mind blanked.

“Can you pass me the…” you began, unsure, your voice trailing off. You made a small gesture with your hand, hoping Viktor would somehow understand what you meant. Without hesitation, he handed you a wrench.

“No, not this,” you said, waving it off. “The other one?” You gestured again.

Viktor stared at you, brows furrowed, before passing you a screwdriver.

“Not that one either!” you huffed, frustration creeping in—not with him, but because your mind had suddenly decided to fail.

The ritual continued, with Viktor visibly amused as your hand hovered over the various tools he’d passed you. Wrenches, pliers, a hammer, and a couple of screwdrivers littered the workbench. You glanced down at your notes, trying to remember.

Viktor hummed, looking from your desk to your notes. His eyes narrowed, and his lips curled into a knowing smile. “Ah. This one?”

Before you could respond, he was standing behind you, lowering the tool into your hand. His arms brushed the sides of your face, and you felt the press of his stomach against your back. For a moment, you froze, breath catching in your throat.

“A calliper,” you whispered.

“Well done, lásko,” Viktor muttered into your ear.

***

The clock announces an hour way past when you’ve expected to be home already. “Should we call it a night?” you ask Viktor, who sits opposite you, a soft smile curling on his lips.

“Some things have changed, then,” he says, tapping his crutch lightly against the floor. “You used to work until figurative death back in the day.”

“Well, I guess I’m getting older,” you reply with a grin, your tone light but laced with a touch of weariness. “What about you? Any big changes?”

He knocks on his brace playfully, lifting the crutch with a small gesture. “Besides the visible?” He chuckles softly. “Not much. Still working to the death.”

Your smile falters for a second, your gaze softening as you roll closer to him on your chair. You rest your hands gently on his knees, studying his face for any signs of deeper discomfort.

“Are you well, though?” you ask, your voice quiet, careful.

Viktor looks at your hands for a moment, then props the crutch on the desk beside him. He squeezes your palms, his grip firm but tender.

“I am now,” he replies, his voice low, almost like a confession. “Haven’t been for a while, but now I’m well. As well as I can be.” He pauses for a beat, then adds with a small smile, “And now that you’re back, I’m even better.”

You brush your fingers gently through his hair, feeling the familiar warmth of his presence, the intimacy of the gesture. Viktor hums softly, his eyes fluttering closed in response. So familiar, you think, a wave of nostalgia washing over you.

You swallow before speaking again, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I’ve missed you.”

Viktor’s eyes remain closed, his expression softening, and when he speaks, his voice heavier now when he sighs. “I know.” He pauses, squeezing your hand once more. “I’ve missed you too.”

***

You and Viktor lay in bed together, tangled in the warmth of each other’s embrace. His arm was draped around you, and the soft rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek was a steady comfort. The room was quiet, unbearably so, when you nuzzled into his neck, inhaling deeply. His scent—rich, familiar, like the warmth of him—filled your senses, and you clutched him tighter, as though trying to memorize the feeling of him.

"I'm going to miss you so much," you whispered, your voice muffled against his skin, your breath shaky with the weight of the thought.

Viktor hummed softly in response, his fingers tracing small circles on your back. "I know. I will miss you terribly too." His words were gentle, but there was a deep sadness in his voice that you could feel even without looking at him.

He nudged your face with his nose, his palm warm as it cupped your cheek. His touch felt like a promise, though you weren't sure what to expect. "If it's meant to be, we will meet again," he said, his voice low, the words wrapped in the quiet certainty.

A pang in your chest tugged at you, and without thinking, you leaned up, pressing your lips to his. The kiss was soft, but your heart ached with the knowledge that this might be the last time you felt him close. It tasted with bitter acceptance, as you poured every bit of feeling you had into it, hoping it would somehow last, somehow hold you both together despite the distance that would come.

When you pulled away, your heart felt heavy, like it was breaking in your chest.

***

You both sit on the couch in your apartment, papers and notes scattered around you, a quiet hum of frustration bounces between you. Viktor’s hair is dishevelled, falling into his eyes, and his shirt has found its way half-out of his pants, a few buttons undone. He stares at the pages in front of him, his expression a mixture of exhaustion and determination. You glance over at him, hoping for a breakthrough.

“Any ideas?” you ask, your voice tinged with a hint of desperation.

Viktor groans and rubs his eyes, his shoulders sagging. “You know what… I think I’m getting old too,” he mutters, dropping his hand to your lap. “Can we get back to it when I’ve had at least two hours of sleep?”

He looks at you, his hand settling on your knee absentmindedly, his fingers warm through the fabric of your clothes. You stare at his hand for a moment, before looking up at him. He seems so tired, but also so… beautiful. His rumpled clothes and tousled hair remind you of the boy you loved.

“Sure,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You look at him, really look at him. He’s always been handsome, but tonight you can finally see how much time has passed. The wrinkles carving his face deeper, jaw stronger, singular grey strands shining through the chestnut hair. Eyes the same. He doesn’t look like a boy anymore.

Wordlessly, you move closer to him and his gaze doesn’t falter. You cup his cheeks and brush your thumb over his lip. And then, your mouth comes close to his, into a soft brush, trembling and tentative. And Viktor responds with a hand sliding up your thigh and a tilt of his head. He cranes his neck and closes the little distance left between you with a sigh of relief.

His free hand slides up to your neck, pulling you in as his mouth parts and tongue joins to wrestle with yours. He gasps when you bite his lower lip and hums, as his palm slides behind to cup your ass. Fully in his grasp, he press yourself more onto him, fingers tangling into his hair, coaxing small sounds out of his throat. It’s wet and slow and when you peek through your eyelashes his brows are scrunched and a blush blooms down his neck to his chest.

He doesn’t kiss like a boy anymore, you think to yourself. It comes unbidden and warms your insides up.

The taste of him lingers on your lips as you pull away just a fraction, your breaths mingling. You barely have a moment to think before Viktor kisses you back, deeply, hoarse inhale taken straight from your lungs leaves you dizzy.

***

Viktor had walked you back to your dorm after a late-night study session at the library. His pace was slow, almost reluctant, as if he was trying to figure out what to say before you parted ways. You were too tired to wait for him to find the words, your mind still foggy from hours of studying.

“I guess this is goodn—” you started, but before you could finish the word, his lips were on yours. The kiss came out of nowhere, abrupt and clumsy, pressing you back into the door behind you. For a moment, you froze, your tired mind scrambling to catch up with what was happening.

Then, the realization sank in, and the sound that left your lips transformed from startled surprise to a soft moan. You responded without thinking, hands sliding up Viktor's sides, feeling the warmth of his body as you kissed him back.

He dropped his cane, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer. His touch was urgent, hands cradling your back and drawing you in as you ran your fingers through his hair. Feeling your response, he grew bolder, shut his eyes and concentrated on drawing deep breaths through his nose to not have to part from you.

Hands everywhere, as if he couldn’t decide what to do. You nearly laughed when she squeezed your butt quickly, only to go back to your waist, slide into your ribs and then to the small of your back. So feverish.

When the oxygen run out, he broke the kiss but still kept you close. “I wanted to do this for the longest time,” he chuckled into your mouth.

***

He gives himself a good-willed push off the couch’s armrest but ends up trapping your hip beneath his. His face scrunches in worry when you hiss, but the sound quickly transforms into a laugh. When your stomach shakes beneath him, Viktor feels a strange swelling in his chest. This is so familiar.

He looks at you longingly, sliding his fingers into your hair. Your laughter dies into a moan when his groin presses between your legs. His tongue grows more eager now, as if he remembers just how much he used to want you. “Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he breathes against your lips, and you respond by fisting his shirt, nearly tearing it. You try to say you’ve missed him too—fuck, how much you’ve missed him every day—but you can’t, because your mouth is full.

You brace yourself on your elbows, meeting him halfway. You’re not sure you can bear to part long enough for him to take your clothes off, so instead, you take his hands and press them to your ass. He accepts, of course, kneading your flesh in rhythm with his breath.

When you finally straddle him, your fingers move to undo the rest of his shirt. That’s when he stills. His palms come up to wrap around yours, and a quiet plea escapes him. “Wait,” he says weakly, his cock already hard—you’re sure this costs him a lot.

“Whatever for?” you ask, nosing at his face before pressing kisses to his cheeks, his closed eyelids. You untangle your fingers from his and wrap your arms around his neck.

“I should show you something first,” he murmurs, and begins to undo his shirt. You lean back to give him space to sit up, but your hips never leave his, and your eyes never look away from his face. You give him the room he needs, and feel unbearably not close enough.

***

You fought with the doorknob to your bedroom for a hot minute. Viktor, being very distracting, had completely derailed your brain from this simple dexterity task with continuous neck-licking and ear-kissing. He kept smirking against your skin, all cocky and pleased with himself, ever since the moment you’d asked, “Do you want to come in?”

You stumbled into the room together, and his fingers immediately shot to your vest. You hadn’t even blinked properly before it was undone, his hands cupping your breasts through your shirt, his cane hooked over his forearm.

Laughing and snorting at his clumsiness, you’d steadied him by the waist and let him walk you backward toward the bed.

Your hands fumbled at the buttons of his shirt, but they were small and stubborn, and you were too impatient. With a frustrated huff, you abandoned the effort and slid your hands over his shoulders instead. “Arms up,” you ordered, and Viktor chuckled as he complied.

He lifted his arms obediently, but as you dragged his shirt over his head, it caught for a moment, tangling around his face. He let out a muffled laugh, flailing slightly as you tugged it free, and the moment he was loose, he lost his balance. He tumbled backward onto the bed with an oof, propping himself up on his elbows as he grinned up at you.

You stepped between his legs, watching as his expression softened, turning almost reverent. His hands found your waist, fingers brushing deliberately over the fabric of your skirt before he slid it down, letting it pool at your feet. His lips followed the motion, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your stomach before he rested his chin there, gazing up at you.

He cradled your hips, thumbs stroking lazily over your skin. “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked, his voice quiet, careful.

You nodded, eager, and leaned down to kiss him, pouring every answer he could ever need into the press of your lips.

***

“There is both more and less to me than there used to be,” Viktor says, rubbing slow, thoughtful circles up and down your thighs. His expression is pensive, and an apology lingers somewhere in his voice. You hate that he feels the need to apologise in the first place.

Your touch slides across his chest, down—down the leather ridges of a brace you’ve never seen before. It screams Jayce Talis with every bolt, every stitch, and your heart aches at the thought that you weren’t here when this was happening.

Your eyes dart between his chest and his lips before you finally nestle deeper against his pelvis, wrap your arms back around his neck, and crush your mouth to his in a kiss that weeps remorse. “You beautiful, beautiful man,” you whisper, pressing your face into his. “How are you so brave?”

You cup his cheeks, and he only smiles, covering your palm with his.

“I’m not brave. I just… survived,” Viktor says with a small shrug. Then, after a pause: “Would you like to help me take them off?”

You nod, eager, and lean down to kiss him, pouring all the fragmented pieces of yes into the press of your lips.

***

Viktor rolled with you across the sheets, his hands skimmed up your sides, warm and eager, fingers pressing into your skin like he was trying to memorise the feel of you. Your mouths met again, lips parting, tongues teasing—lazy and deep, now that you had each other finally.

He pulled you closer, your thighs bracketing his hips, and when you reached down, fingers curling into the waistband of his trousers, he let out a shaky breath. You grinned against his mouth, tugging them lower inch by inch, letting your nails drag over his skin just to hear the quiet little sounds he made in response. Finally, with one last playful yank, you pulled them off entirely, giggling when they got caught at his ankles for a moment before slipping free.

And then you saw it—his brace.

Viktor stiffened immediately. His hands twitched at his sides, and he turned his head slightly, as if he wanted to look anywhere but at you. "It’s nothing," he muttered, voice quieter than before. "You don’t have to—"

You reached out, your palm settling gently on his leg. "Viktor," you said softly, your touch firm but tender. His gaze flicked back to yours, guarded, unsure. "You are so beautiful."

He gasped, a sound so quiet you might not have caught it if you weren’t so close. His lips parted slightly, eyes searching yours like he wasn’t sure if he’d heard you right.

You didn’t give him time to argue. Instead, you leaned down, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to his thigh, just above the brace. He shivered beneath you. Carefully, you undid the clasps, your fingers working with quiet reverence, peeling away the brace as if unveiling something sacred.

It left behind faint indentations in his skin—lines and ridges pressed deep from the whole day of wear. You kissed each one, your lips trailing over the marks with the same care you’d give any other part of him. Viktor’s breath hitched, his fingers threading into the sheets, gripping tight.

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, barely above a whisper, he breathed, "You undo me."

***

You set the last metal part of Viktor aside, and now, finally—after years of longing—you see him. His legs are parted, eternal bruises marking his thigh and knee, the toes of one foot cramped closer together than the other. His ribs bear pearly little scars where the chest brace has caught against his skin.

His cock rests idly in the crease of his thigh, beautiful as ever—pink at the tip, his navel scattered with curly hair that meets in a neat line just below his belly button. His hips are sharp angles, his belly rising and falling with each breath. You take in this adult man’s body and compare it to the boy you fell in love with. And you are sure now—there is only more to him than there used to be.

You step between his legs, and his arms reach out, fingers tracing a scar on your lower abdomen. He hums, “This is new.”

“You should see the other guy,” you murmur playfully. “A machine malfunctioned at the lab. One of the energy conductors went unstable, and before I could shut it down, a piece of metal sliced me open.” You pause, watching his face tense. “I got lucky.”

Viktor brushes his thumb over the scar tissue before lowering his lips, pressing a kiss to it—slow, reverent. “My brave girl,” he mutters against your skin. Your head lulls back on your shoulders, fingers threading into his hair and you let out a sigh.

You shudder when he presses a delicate touch between your legs. His hand, more calloused than you remember, gathers the curve of your inner thigh—but oh, his fingers still feel the same. The same timid swipe across your core, the same quiet hum of approval at the wetness you've gathered for him. Then, his free arm comes to wrap around your hips, pulling you closer as he presses his ear to your belly and slides two fingers inside you.

More skill, you notice. A pang of jealousy coils in your chest—ugly, unnecessary—but you don’t let him see. He kisses your stomach, and his eyelashes tickle your skin as he moves his hand up and down and his fingers hit the spot that has you moaning out his name. “As tight as I remember,” he hums, and it lances through you how infinitely hotter he has become.

You tug at his hair to make him look at you. Two gold gems drill right through you when you say, “Viktor.” A sigh, then, “I think I really need to fuck you now.”

He smiles sweetly and kisses your stomach again. “Then it seems we are on the same page.”

***

After a lot of fumbling, adjusting, and whispered curses, you finally found what worked. Viktor propped his knee up with a pillow, his other leg hooked under yours, grounding you together. His weight pressed you into the mattress—not crushing, just enough to make you feel him everywhere, warm and steady.

He rolled his hips into you, slow and measured, his arm caging you in as he kissed you through it. The heat of his breath spilled over your mouth, his lips parting just enough to let out the quietest of moans. And even in the haze of pleasure, you could see it—the determination tightening his brow, the concentrated press of his mouth against yours. He was on a mission, and that mission was you.

One arm wound snugly around your neck, cradling you into him, while his other hand worked between your legs, fingers slick and diligent. He timed each stroke with the snap of his hips, coaxing you closer, closer—

“Oh—Viktor—”

The sound of your voice shattered something in him. His rhythm stuttered, his forehead dropped to yours, but his fingers didn’t stop, circling, pressing, working you toward your peak. You dug your nails into his back, rocking up to meet him, and then—

It rushed over you like a cresting wave. Your thighs tensed around his waist, your breath caught, and the pleasure crested so high it stole all thought. He moaned softly, watching, feeling every pulse of your release around him.

His movements became less controlled, needier, a touch more frantic. He groaned against your shoulder, muttered something in a language you barely caught, and then followed you over the edge. His body trembled against yours, hips stuttering, breath shaky as he spilled into you, his lips still parted against your skin.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The only sounds in the room were your slowing breaths, the faint creak of the mattress, and the heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Then, Viktor finally lifted his head, flushed, sweat-dampened curls clinging to his forehead. He swallowed hard, his expression abashed but glowing with something warm and dazed.

“I hope that at this point, it is merely a formality,” he said, still breathless. “But… may I be so bold as to call you my girlfriend from now on?”

***

Your hips slot back together as if no time has passed. He fills you the same way, stretches you perfectly, and the expression he makes as he sinks in—God, it’s the same. Crushingly fucking gorgeous. Relief and bliss war on his face, his lips parting around a shaky groan as his hands seize your ass, pulling you down fully with a sharp slap of skin against skin.

He nuzzles into your neck, breath heavy and warm, licks up the column of your throat before sinking his teeth into your tendon. You gasp, moan, and pull at his hair, and the low, satisfied hum he gives in response shoots straight through you. His grip on your hips tightens, thumbs pressing into your skin as he guides you into motion, dragging you up before urging you back down. A faint roll of his own hips meets yours with every descent, his restraint slipping as the pleasure builds.

It doesn’t take long for you to notice—he’s changed. There’s more confidence in the way he moves, the way he takes from you, the way he talks to you. His voice is deeper, richer, words curling into your skin like smoke.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, dark and approving. He drags a hand up your spine, settles it at your nape, tilting your head so you do look—so you watch the way he devours you with his eyes. “You take me so well, lásko.”

Heat spreads down to your toes. You try to bite back a whimper, but he sees it, hears it, and smirks. Smirks, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

Oh, he’s so much bolder now. And you’re falling apart because of it.

It starts with the way he tilts his hips just right, the way his grip on you tightens like he knows exactly where you need him. His free hand glides down your spine, tracing sweat-slick skin before slipping between your bodies. Two fingers find your clit, and your breath stutters. He circles once, twice—slow and deliberate—before pressing down, firm and unrelenting.

“Come for me,” he murmurs, voice like silk, like sin. He rewards you with a deep thrust, dragging a broken moan from your throat. “Let me feel you.”

You do—oh, God, you do. Pleasure overtakes you, crashing through your body in waves, pulling you under. Your thighs shake around him, your hands fly to his shoulders, nails sinking into muscle as you arch and shudder and keen his name. He groans, eyes dark and reverent as he watches you unravel in his lap.

Yet still, there are things that haven’t changed. The way his breath hitches when you clench around him. The way his moans turn desperate when you lean forward and suck at his throat. The way he starts to chase the pleasure once he gets close, gripping you tighter, rutting up into you with a fervour that makes your head spin.

And the way he comes—the same shudder, the same deep, gasping moan, the same way his arms crush you against his chest as if he could pull you inside him. His release spills deep, his body trembling beneath yours, and you realise it then, as you always have.

He is grateful for this. For you.

Your noses brush as he catches his breath, and his hands smooth over your back, grounding himself in the feel of you.

“Still with me?” you murmur, running your fingers through his damp curls.

Viktor exhales a breathless laugh, lids heavy, lips parted in something like awe. He nods, shifting just enough to press a lingering kiss to your collarbone. “Always.”

[peachyprophets-blog]

DROWNED LOVE

How the gods would mourn after the reader died

A/N: Heyy!! I will be working on an alternative version in the next few days, what if one of the gods (who knows heheh) helps the reader to get back to Ithaca (she probably only returns to her family after the events of the Ithaca Saga).

And no, we don't greet happiness with open arms :)

°•○☆○•°

Zeus:

જ⁀➴Would mourn you for thousands of years.

જ⁀➴ Created a cloud that has your shape.

જ⁀➴Despairs because the cloud is not exactly like you. If you are mentioned near him, he would look at the person threateningly.

જ⁀➴Blames others for your death.

જ⁀➴"My beloved, not a day will go by that I won't miss you!"

Poseidon:

જ⁀➴After your death, the seas trembled and for years they were plagued with violent storms

જ⁀➴Tries to carry on as best he can Often argues with Zeus about who is to blame

જ⁀➴Would build you a monument that he would put in his palace

જ⁀➴All mortal women he fell in love with always resembled you in appearance or character.

જ⁀➴"My beloved, may the waves sing you to sleep, no matter where you are"

Hades:

જ⁀➴He mourned most of his brothers

જ⁀➴It tore him apart to see his brothers like this, but he knew it was best for you

જ⁀➴Yet he watched you every day from the underworld

જ⁀➴Even when you died, he immediately welcomed you into his home, but didn't say anything to the other gods.

જ⁀➴"Find peace in your end, rest now little one"

Apollo:

જ⁀➴THIS MAN IS SUFFERING

જ⁀➴He has lost the protégé he loved so much

જ⁀➴It seemed as if the sun wasn't shining as brightly anymore

જ⁀➴He dedicated songs, poems and works of art to you

જ⁀➴What had happened was something he never wanted to happen, he had lost the person he loved again

જ⁀➴He transformed something that had once belonged to you into a beautiful flower that could bloom even in the worst of circumstances.

જ⁀➴"The sun protects you everywhere, my sunshine, bloom where no one else can bloom"

Hera:

જ⁀➴Look you might think she would not be sad, BUT SIKE!!!

જ⁀➴Hera felt very sorry for you, you were just an innocent soul who couldn't do anything about the fate that had befallen you

જ⁀➴Hera grew fond of you and saw you like a daughter

જ⁀➴Hera took out her anger on her husband, how could he take her beloved girl!?

જ⁀➴Hera sees you everywhere, whether under the tree in the Garden of the Gods or in the Great Hall.

જ⁀➴"At least you don't have to put up with my husband anymore, my little girl"

Hermes:

જ⁀➴This boy will hide his sadness behind his usual smile

જ⁀➴He will crack jokes and play pranks on people as usual

જ⁀➴I would say he lives in a world where you are still alive

જ⁀➴He will look at others and think that you are standing right next to him

જ⁀➴He will not accept that you are gone, and the other gods will have to watch the messenger of the gods living in this illusion

જ⁀➴"What do you say Dawling? Oh I love the idea!"

-Peachyprophet

[ninikrumbs]

This love

pairing: spencer reid x reader. pure fluff. spencer reid is a yearner of the highest order. established relationship. First spencer reid fic, hope I got it right. Summary: After a long and exhausting case, Spencer's feet leads him right to your doorstep. word count: 900 words.

Spencer stared up at your apartment building, specifically at your dark apartment window. Considering how late it was, the streets were silent and the was crisp. He felt like a stalker, but after such a long and exhausting case, his feet somehow led him straight here. To you.

But it was midnight, you were probably asleep, tired from your own day job so he didn’t wanna disturb you no matter how much he just wanted to melt into your embrace and hear you say his name in that tender way only you knew how.

For now, this was enough. It was enough to have you close by even if you were three floors away. Just the thought of your slumbering form under the warm covers comforted him, chasing away the monsters that often plagued his mind after a case. You had that power over him. Your touch was magic, and your arms a solace. He didn’t believe in any religion, but if there was a God out there, he’d thank him endlessly for sending you his way.

Morgan would most likely tease him for being so pathetic, but he didn't care. In fact he prided himself in how gone he was for you, because how lucky a man could he be to experience this soul consuming type of love.

His gaze never strayed from your window, you blinds swaying slightly from the breeze. Maybe another hour or two, then he’d leave. He’ll definitely see you tomorrow.

“Spence?”

His head snapped to the sound of your voice so quickly, he wouldn’t have been surprised if he heard a crack. There you were under the streetlights,a plastic bag in hand, in your sleep shorts and your-or should he say his oversize hoodie. Your hair was a bit of a mess and there wasn’t trace of makeup on you face. Yet, you were absolutely beautiful and it took it his breath away every time.

It only took him two long strides to get you, strong arms immediately pulling you into his chest. The sigh of relief he let out was palpable, his worries melting away as he breath you in, leaning down to tuck his face into your neck. You drop your plastic bag, and try to hug him back as best as you could in his tight embrace.

Once he was temporarily sated, -because lets be honest, he will never be able to have his fill of you— it could have been minutes or hours, he didn’t know. He pulled back just enough to see your face, one hand caressing your cheek, the other holding you by your waist. “What are you doing outside?”

His tone wasn’t accusatory or demanding, it was soft and gentle, and genuinely curious and worried as to why your walking the streets alone in the middle of the night.

You smile softly, leaning into his touch, amusement dancing in your eyes. “I should be asking you that, Spence.”

“I-” He could feel the blood rush to his ears and cheeks, “-I wanted to see you.”

Smiling cheekily, you gave his forehead a light tap with your pointer finger, “Why didn’t you call me then?”

“I thought you were asleep so I didn’t wanna disturb you.”

You tilt your head, “Yet you came anyway?”

He smiled bashfully, a bit embarrassed that you found out about his stalkish tendencies. “I wanted to be close to you regardless.”

You stared at him in disbelief, “Oh, Spence.”

Standing on you tiptoes, you wrapped you arms around his neck, pulling him close once more. His hands found your waist as he leaned his chin on your shoulder with his eyes fluttering shut.

“Long case?” You whisper softly against his neck. He hums in response.

You ran a hand through his curly locks. “I'm here.”

Those two words made him hold on to you tighter. You were here. And it made a world of difference,

After a moment, you pulled away and grasped his hand, “Lets go inside.”

“Okay.” His eyes land on your plastic bag, finally noticing it. His refined senses don’t seem to work as fast around you. “Did you go to the convenience store?”

You grinned, “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep so I decided to buy some unhealthy convenience store food.”

He felt bad for thinking this, but he could help but be a little happy that you couldn’t sleep.

Once inside your apartment, your eyes traced over Spencer’s relaxed state as he pulled out the contents of your food haul on the kitchen counter, a big comparison to the tension in his body when you saw him standing in front of your building.

“Hey, Spence?”

“Yeah?”His big hazel eyes met yours and your almost forgot what to say.

Making your way to his side, you leaned your head on his shoulder as you intertwined both of your fingers together. His hand almost swallowing yours whole. The sight making you smile. “Next time you wanna see me, just call me, okay?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

You raised your head and looked at him seriously, “You’re right, I don’t, but I want to do this, Spence. Because you have to know, I want to see you just as much as you want to see me. I doesn’t matter what time it is, text me, call me, or throw a rock at my window. Anything works.”

He laughed at the last one, “Throw a rock? Won’t we wake your neighbors?”

“I don’t really care.” Its true, you don’t care because if this man needs you, you will damn be there.

His smile widened into a grin as he leans into you, pressing his forehead onto yours, hands trailing up to caress your warm cheeks. “I hope you know I don’t deserve you.”

You clasped your hands over his, lifting your chin enough to press a chaste kiss on his lightly chapped lips. “For the first time in your life you’re wrong, Dr. Reid. Your the only one who does.”

AN: Obsessed with criminal minds lately, especially our boy genius.

[pleasuresofsohodolls]

⋆.ೃ - Smith!Reader

Smith!Reader who isn't actually a Smith by blood, and was actually one of Negan's students pre-outbreak, but slowly got 'adopted' by Negan and Lucille throughout the beginning of the apocalypse.

Smith!Reader who would travel with her parents when they were younger, all over the USA and wherever they could afford in Europe - her favourite place being England due to spending the most long-term time there than any other country she's visited. Her mom died in 2008, when she was only ten. Her dad was never the jolliest man but after the death of the only woman he's ever loved, he was barely even there - physically and mentally.

Smith!Reader who's obsessed with anything and everything pop culture. She can't go anywhere without her CD Player and her Headphones. Her music taste ranging from Mozart to Rob Zombie. She has every single magazine she can find scattered across her room, she has dvds of old tv shows and movies she used to watch at the local library. She's so well endowed with her own knowledge that Carl's lack of pop knowledge physically pains her sometimes.

Smith!Reader who the only way she could bond with her dad was through comics, something he had raised her to love. Marvel, DC, Snoopy, she loves them all. She watched through the window as Negan killed her dad in her small garden with the same bat she had used years prior to play baseball with the poor man, if only he didn't get bitten.

Smith!Reader who was basically like the daughter Lucille never had. They'd listen to music while Negan was out finding supplies or on patrol, her dancing while Lucille sang along weakly. Safe to say she didn't handle Lucille's death well.

Smith!Reader who started calling Negan her dad once Simon took them to the Sanctuary, she'd only properly known the man nine months by this point, but he'd done more for her than any man ever has in her life.

Smith!Reader who's first real interaction with Carl was him threatening her with a gun during the Savior's first visit to Alexandria after watching her trying to take some of the medicine - she just smiled at his empty threats and shitty aim. It was cute.

Smith!Reader who's indifferent. She understands both sides of the 'war' ; that's what makes her so likeable to people, such as Carl and even Daryl. She doesn't treat Carl like an enemy and she doesn't treat Daryl like a prisoner - she treats them like what she believes others are supposed to, she treats them like people.

Smith!Reader who's obsessed with Judith. Before Judith she'd never held a baby, never even been that close to one - but she instantly fell in love. And it went both ways. Maybe even three ways.

Smith!Reader who helps Alexandria subtly throughout the war. She tells Carl about different Saviour plans through a walkie-talkie (which have caused many late night conversations with the pair), and gives him a gun that she makes sure he knows has to remain a secret - even to his dad.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

Woah first post. I'm not really a writer I just like making up different personas (is that the right word???) to imagine my crushes with and wanted to write some of it out !!

Also I should really be focusing on a fic I'm writing on ao3 (abt this reader actually) but schools a bitch and just really tires me out 💔

There's so much more I could say abt her but I'd just be yapping with like 100 different paragraphs so I limited myself to 10 😭

[kingcrossbones]

He didn't think it would be this overwhelming, but he guessed that after so much time of supressing everything, it was only a matter of when not if, it all came back to haunt him. Bucky's skin against his and how he took his arm brought him out of his head and as he spread his hand over Bucky's chest, he pulled him closer, burying his head in the back of his head and taking one of Bucky's legs between his own.

Brock smiled, a short exhale hinted at his realization, "Not to creep you out or anything but I've been loving you for a very long time." His words were so light and tangled with the relief that now he could say that and not have to hide it, least some heavy consequence would fall upon them both, the other not even realizing why. And he wanted to weep his eyes out, right then and there as he held Bucky even closer and bubrried his face in the crook of his neck,

"I am so sorry-"

[text]: do you hate me?

from Bucky, to Brock 🖤

[text] ????

[text] What's this about?

[text] Also no. I don't think I can ever hate you. No matter what you do.

[justnatoka]

When you don't say 'I love you' back

The Lost Boys headcanons

A/n: Marko gave me a hard time not gonna lie, and I'm still not 100% satisfied with his part, but I didn't want to chew on this any longer. Hope you enjoy!

Warning: nsfw themes, allusions to smut

David

He’s not really the type to shower you with phrases of love, he much rather shows his feelings to you through his actions. So on the rare occasion when he says ‘I love you’, he expects you to say it back.

You were lying in his arms one night, your body aching deliciously, his hand stroking your bare thigh in slow, lazy motions.

“When do you think the boys will be back?” you wondered.

He raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“You’re seriously thinking about them right now?”

You snorted and playfully smacked his naked chest.

“Nothing like that. I was just wondering how long the peace will last.”

As if on que, the distant sound of stomping and Marko’s hollering broke the silence of the cave. David levelled you with a flat stare, basically saying without words that this was your fault. You just shrugged your shoulders. Nothing you could do about it now.

He made a move to get up, but as he looked back at you, still tangled in the sheets, your body all soft and pliant, baring the marks of his affections from before, staring back at him with those pretty eyes, he couldn’t help himself. He leaned down, one hand keeping himself upright, the other finding the plush skin of your hips, still tender from his previously bruising grip, and giving it a gentle squeeze. His lips chased after yours, capturing them in a slow kiss. The corner of his mouth quirked up at the little sound you made as he deepened it, his tongue stroking against yours, teasing you just a bit before he pulled away. He chuckled as you let out a huff at the abrupt ending, and pressed a quick peck on your pout.

“Love you,” he murmured against your lips before he got up to find his pants.

He froze. There was no answer, nothing, just silence. Did you not hear him? Were you playing with him? You thought you could be cheeky, huh? Now this would not do.

He turned around and strode back to the bed. He towered over you, trapping you in with his gaze. Leaning down, his hand caught a firm grip on your jaw.

“Was I not clear enough, kitten? Do I have to show you again? Because I don’t care if the boys hear you this time, I’m going to make sure everyone knows how much you love me.”

Dwayne

Dwayne wasn’t as sparse with the use of those three words as David was, but he also didn’t feel the urge to shout it from the rooftops like Marko did. Instead, he reserved them to intimate moments between you two, special occasions when the mood was just right.

You were having a quiet night in with Dwayne, since the boys decided to give you some privacy. You may or may not have threatened them to make themselves scarce for a few hours. You spent it in an armchair in the cave, one the two of you specifically got for yourselves, because it was wide and comfortable, allowing both of you to snuggle in against each other.

You’ve been sitting in Dwayne’s lap for most of the night, napping against his chest, playing with his hair or reading the book he had in his hands alongside him.

He was also in an affectionate mood, one of his hands always wrapped around your waist, his fingers soothing over your skin or rubbing it absentmindedly. He even occasionally paused his reading to press kisses on your face and your lips.

Feeling a craving for some snacks, you moved to get off his lap for the first time in hours. His hand was quick to get a hold of yours, pulling you right back onto him. Marking his progress in the book he put it aside, focusing his full attention on you now.

He took in the sight of you, illuminated by the fires burning around the cave. His dark eyes shone with adoration, the corners of them creasing as a smile stretched across his handsome face. His fingers cupped your chin, bringing your face closer as his lips found yours, moving slowly, savoring each moment, his teeth nipping your lower lip playfully.

“I love you,” he sighed as you broke away from him with flushed cheeks.

You send him a warm smile, before once again moving to get up. With your back already turned, you didn’t see the frown that came over his face. You hand was still firmly in his grip, and he used that leverage to pull you back in once again, this time with a bit more persistence.

“Did you not hear what I said, sweetheart? Or do you need a reminder?” he muttered into your ear, his words a deep rumble in his chest. You felt his breath fan out on your neck just before his lips attached themselves onto your sensitive skin.

Now you were even more grateful that the boys wouldn’t be around for what was in store for you.

Paul

Paul is definitely the type of lover who shows his affection, both physically and verbally, any chance he gets. It’s well understood that he’s incredibly handsy, always touching you in some kind of way. What you didn’t count on however was how often he said ‘I love you’.

Did you just wake up? I love you. Did you just get off his bike? Love you, dollface. Did you just kill someone to feats on their blood? You’re so hot, babe, I love you!

It was a constant thing in your relationship. He didn’t necessarily expect you to say it back every single time, but he absolutely started pouting if you missed it a few times in a row. Yes, he was needy, and yes, he was keeping score.

You didn’t feel like going out tonight, so the two of you stayed in, cuddling on your bed. Paul was lying on top of you, his arms circled around your torso, his head resting on your chest. You were leaned back against the myriad pillows you accumulated over the years, your fingers running through his hair, playing with the blond strands absentmindedly.

“You would make a nice pillow, know that, babe?” he mumbled.

“Yeah? How’s that?” you asked while trying to work out a particularly stubborn knot in his hair.

“You’re soft and you smell nice,” he emphasized his words by pressing a small kiss near you collarbone, before snuggling back in, nuzzling into you, squishing his cheek against your chest and inhaling deeply.

You chuckled, gently massaging his scalp, and you could swear you heard him purring. He mumbled affectionate “I love you’s” into your skin, his arms squeezing you just a little bit tighter. When you didn’t say anything, a frown appeared on his face, and he turned to look up at you.

“Babe?” he started.

“Hm?” you met his eyes and discovered that he was pouting.

“You didn’t say it back.”

You gave him a noncommittal hum, and his eyes narrowed. You barely had time to catch on before he started attacking you with a flurry of kisses all over your face, making you burst out in giggles.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” you squealed between bouts of laughter. “I’m sorry, I love you too.”

He leaned back with a satisfied little smirk on his face.

“You better,” he replied cheekily, and the next thing you know is he moved further down, his breath tickling your neck before his lips found a particularly sensitive spot, pressing hot kisses on your skin. A moan threatened to escape your mouth when you felt the graze of his fangs.

You had no problem teasing him a bit if this is how he retaliates every time.

Marko

Just like Paul, he wasn’t shy to show his affection for you. He had a loud personality, so why not make his declarations of love just as loud?

The two of you separated from the boys as soon as you got to the Boardwalk that night, opting to spend some time together before joining them again for feasting. You were strolling between vendors’ stalls, looking at all the knick-knacks they sold, cracking jokes and just having a good time.

Your ears perked up when you walked past a shop that was blaring some cheesy popular love song, and just one glance at Marko told you he noticed it too. The corner of his mouth perked up and a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes as he looked back at you.

The next moment he was wrapping you up in his arms, and started swaying with you right then and there, not a care in the world. Thankfully, there were not many people around you, so you didn’t have to worry about bumping into anyone, not like Marko would care.

Before you could even take in what was happening, he started singing too. You had no idea how he knew the lyrics, it wasn’t quite his genre of music, but he always managed to surprise you. He was off-key, his dance moves not very smooth, but his hold on you was tight, his eyes full of warmth with a wide grin on his face. It was silly and loud and obnoxious, but you couldn’t help the giggles escaping your mouth at the ridiculousness of it all.

Looking back into his eyes you smiled warmly at him, and he leaned in to nuzzle your cheek, his hands squeezing you just a tad tighter.

“Love you, sugar,” he mumbled against your skin as he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You let out a happy sigh.

He drew back for a second, eyes searching your face. You didn’t say it back. The smirk that stretched across his lips then promised nothing but trouble.

Then he started singing again, this time very loudly, drawing the attention of everyone passing by. Your boyfriend serenading you a love song would have been sweet any other time, now you just felt heat rising to your cheeks at all the attention.

He ignored your little protests, bellowing out even louder. So you did the only thing that came to your mind. You kissed him square on the mouth. That shut him up quickly, his hands sneaking dangerously low on your hips, squeezing you against him. His mouth was hungry, his kiss searing and possessive, teeth nipping at your bottom lip, his tongue caressing yours. You couldn’t help the little whimpers and sighs escaping you at his heated affection.

When he finally drew back, his eyes were hooded, and you almost melted into a puddle at the intensity of his gaze.

“Next time you better say it back, sugar.” The smirk on his face grew wider. “Unless you want me to demonstrate before all these people.”

You couldn’t deny the thrill that run through your body at the thought.

Tags: @stinkydove @pandemoniavenus @000-colby @lunarwhitewolf7 @notalwaysa @binightowl @darlingnikkisixxxx @skrimblo-blumpkgo @wpdarlingpan

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

[lynnaredfield3383]

After War

(After the war. 3rd year. Reader has 2 quirks. One is an energy type that allows them to fly & the other is a healing quirk. Reader saved Bakugo by taking on his injuries due to healing quirk. Edgeshot didn't have a chance to risk his life for Bakugo)

“Showin' off, Sparkles?” Bakugo called out as you flew ahead of him with your bursts of energy.

“Can't keep up, Blasty? Ooof!” you called back, then gasped in surprise when you felt his arms wrap around your waist, bringing you back down to the UA grounds.

“Nah...Just wanna walk for a bit,” Bakugo answered.

“Hmm. Kinda sus, but I'll allow it,” you laughed, walking down the path together.

“Smartass. You really like playing with fire, don't ya?” Bakugo smirked.

“If I did, I'd be hanging with Roki right now,” you started walking backwards smiling at Bakugo.

His expression darkened for a minute. Then Bakugo grabbed you, pulling you against his chest. With his arms wrapped around you, Bakugo closed his eyes, resting his chin on your shoulder. You slowly wrapped your arms around him and placed your hands against his back.

“I never thought...When I saw you on the ground, after you took on all my injuries. Thank you,” Bakugo whispered, trying to gain the courage to say everything on his mind.

“Your welcome...I didn't do it to make you feel guilty or weak. My quirk wasn't enough against, Shigaraki,” you explained.

“I know that, Sparkles,” Bakugo whispered.

“Hey, are you okay?” you tried to pull back, but Bakugo held you tighter.

“Fine...I...Can I just hold you a little bit longer?” Bakugo asked.

You were even more confused but started to worry as well.

“Yeah...Sure,” you answered, holding him tighter.

Bakugo took a deep breath and as he pulled back, quickly wiped a tear away. Clearing his throat he met your concerned gaze.

“I don't...Shit. This is difficult for me...”

“What?” Lia asked confused.

“I wanted to give this to you before...Before we moved on AFO, but you got pulled so fast...Here,” Bakugo held out a small black box.

“Bakugo...”

“Open it,” Bakugo spoke impatiently.

You opened the box, your eyes widening when you saw the black cherry opal necklace. Bakugo rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the ground, but finally met your eyes and smiled when he saw your smile.

“I love it...Reminds me of your eyes,” you spoke softly, causing Bakugo to chuckle.

“I know the white opal is your birthstone, but I wanted you to think of me when you wear it.”

You smiled brightly, taking it out of the box and holding it up to Bakugo.

“Will you put it on me?” you asked.

“Uh, yeah...Sure,” Bakugo said surprised.

“Thank you, so much...”

Bakugo connected the clasp and softly kissed the back of your neck, surprising you. Before you could turn around he slid one arm around the front of you pulling your back against him. Your cheeks pressed together as he pulled out his phone and held it up to take a selfie.

“Be my girlfriend,” Bakugo whispered.

You turned to look at him the same time he snapped the picture, his eyes locking with yours.

“Are you serious?” you asked stunned.

“Yeah, I am,” Bakugo spoke softly.

“Yes,” you laughed, turning to kiss him not realizing he was still taking pictures.

Bakugo finally put his phone away as he buried both hands in your hair, deepening the kiss. When the kiss ended, he placed his forehead against yours.

“I still want to be the number one hero, but I want you to be part of that. I also want to be the best for you.”

“I won't get in the way of your dreams, but I will push your ass to achieve them,” you whispered

Bakugo smiled, softly pecking your lips again before looking back in your eyes.

“That's why it was always going to be you. I've never seen anyone else,” Bakugo admitted.

“How long did you know I liked you?” you demanded.

“Mina told me first year...”

“Jerk! You made me wait this long?”

Bakugo laughed as you pulled away punching his shoulder. He caught your hand before you got too far. Intertwining his fingers with yours continuing back to the dorms.

“I figured you'd lose interest and find someone...Like dunce face or shitty hair,” Bakugo admitted.

“Idiot.”

“Hey! Girlfriend or not, I'll still kick your ass,” Bakugo chuckled.

“I've been waiting years for that. Guess I'll keep waiting,” you teased.

“You love busting my ass, don't you?” Bakugo chuckled again.

“Hmm-mm. Since day one,” you winked, walking up the stairs to the dorm.

[terresdebrume]

I keep going back and forth on the topic of where I fall on the allo/aro spectrum, partially because I kind of like. Don't wanna be aro (I'm already trans, queer and autistic with depressive tendencies, I don't need to add another thing to the list)

But another part of it is that even if I am capable of romantic love I probably just wouldn't know, because I already don't really know what platonic love feels like? And I'm not saying I can't love anything or anything like that it's just. Like many other emotions, I kind of have to retroingeneer it, sort of

I know I love my cats, not because I feel a surge of Something when I look at them, but because it makes me smile when they do something cute—my face knows what I'm feeling in those moments, I'm not sure I do. I know I love them because when Pouet died I cried every day for a month and I still cry sometimes, when I think about her. I know I love my cats because my brain keeps lighting up with fear signals when they're sleeping and I don't immediately see their chest move as they breathe.

I know what anxiety feels like, I know what anger feels like (when it explodes), I know what depression feels like because I dealt with them for so long I learned to recognize their physical symptoms! If these emotions didn't leave specific signals in my body then I'm not sure I'd know what they are.

And the thing is... I don't really like. Know what love or affection feels like, I think. Yes I can feel myself smile when I speak to certain people, but I also habitually smile at everybody because it makes things easier socially. I know I like people because if they ask me if I want to do an activity I either say yes or I have regrets about saying no.

My point is: I feel like I don't know my emotions so much as I know the buttons they push in my body, so to speak, but the problem about platonic/romantic love is that I can't imagine they make that different a shame, so who's to say which one it is?

It's funny, in a way, that I don't know something like that at my age. It's also really inconvenient, tbh. There's not really a reason for me to think about this rn except sometimes if I meet a cool dude whom I know is gay I wonder for a minute or two what a relationship with him would be like (which I'm going to assume is not that weird a thing to do) and the last time that happened led to, well. Ponderings about romance I guess

Anyway, the tl;Dr is that it took me decades to figure out the emotions I can recognize now, and I've largely approached social interactions with the inner spirit of a wet Chihuahua for most of that time, so how the fuck do I know if I can't identify those because I'm shit at self understanding or because I don't feel them???

Idk, it's complicated

(Tho honestly it would also be a little bit hilarious if after all this shit I landed on nah just aro. Not my preferred option right now but eh xD)

[marymary-diva17]

I have one and we saw how they react when someone hurt the reader, what if we switch it to where someone hurt their children and here comes a mama hen. I think it would work with tonowari, ronal children and netiriy, jack children.

The world had changed when one becomes a parent, as now they know there is someone they will need all their love and care. A parent will do anything for their kid or kids making sure they are, healthy and happy in their lives. When the situation comes when something wrong has come up that when everything changes. As when alarms of danger go off a parent shall do anything, to make sure their kids is safe and sound.

y/n " ......." as you lay in bed taking some rest as you soon heard movement near you, at the moment as you were trying to understand what was going on.

???? " we should ask mama to take us"

???? " no dads said we shouldn't wake mama up she become very upset, dad said she can be a monster"

????" no mama is no monster"

????? " that what I told dad but he said he has seen stuff in the past, but mama no monster"

y/n " hello my little ones" you had opened your eyes to see three kids standing by you, as you smile at them right now as they looked shocked.

kids " mama"

y/n " now what have you all come here to ask me my loves"

neteyam " well we wanted to go play outside in the meadow of flying lizards, but we need someone to come with us and we want you to take us"

y/n " oh"

kiri " but dads said we shouldn't wake you up and dad said you could be a monster"

y/n " that not very nice of him but you know let go outside it will be fun"

kids " yeah"

y/n " let me get you baby sister first as I have a feeling she up from her nap"

lo'ak " oh she is mama we have been watching her and playing with her, but that not much we can play inside" neteyam had ran to go pick up tuk as you stood up.

y/n " thank you my loves well come on let get going" the kids and you soon leave the home, it didn't take that long to reach the meadow as the kids really wanted to go there anyway.

y/n " okay my babies stay close to where I can see you and if you see anything bad turn around or call for help"

kids " yes mama" the kids had ran off to play as you soon sat down with tuk, as she started babbling on about anything around her making you smile.

????" incoming mama hen incoming mama hen"

y/n " hello toruk makto I can hear you"

Jake " good so where are you and the little ones"

y/n " at the meadow of the flying lizards seeing how the kids wanted to come over here"

neytiro " are they all behaving themselves"

y/n " yes they are my husband"

Jake " well we will be on our way there"

y/n " okay we shall be....."

kids " mommy" the kids scream had drawn you attention as you soon see them coming running towards you, but they were not alone as Thanator was tailing after them. Jake and Neytiro had heard the kids scream but nothing else as the line ended.

y/n " kids" neteyam and kiri had reached you but lo'ak had tripped, you soon grabbed the other two and place them on higher level of ground.

y/n " take you sister lo'ak"

lo'ak " mommy" lo'ak had been able to dash away behind a tree but the beast followed him. you had ran towards the tree and soon reach lo'ak.

lo'ak " mommy"

y/n " it okay baby I'm here I need you to stay behind me and on the count of three run to your siblings, and stay up there for me please" lo'ak had nodded his head.

y/n " one two three" lo'ak soon took off running towards his siblings, as neteyam had helped him up to the higher level.

y/n " hey buddy eyes on me you have to deal with mama bear right now" the creature had roared at you and soon came at you as you ran away, making sure the creates stayed away from the kids. The beast had used it crawls to hit you in the legs sending you to the ground.

y/n " ahhh" The beats had growled at you ready to pounce on you when you had picked up a rock and toss it towards, the beast as you soon got up and ran again. The Thanator soon caught it sense had soon followed after you once again.

y/n " I need to keep going to make sure it those not not go after, the kids I can't let any harm come to my babies" there was so much pain in your body but you kept on going. Until you go to some tree as you were coming up with another plan, when the Thanator had shown up once again.

y/n " I will fight for my kids safety so come at me"

????? " ahhh" soon a scream had been heard as Jake and neytiro had come out of nowhere, with tsu'tey as they start firing towards the Thanator. A few other warriors had come as the Thanatos had soon been chased off.

neytiro " ma y/n" you had fallen to your knees as neytiro came to your aid.

y/n " the kids the kids"

Jake " hush they are safe and sound you need to get you help" the only thing you were able to do was nodded your head, before you had passed out from shock and pain in your body.

hours later

y/n " ......" you soon opened your eyes and soon shot up from where you are laying.

neytiro " ma y/n"

Jake " sweetie you are up"

y/n " the little ones"

Jake " they are over there sleeping they tried to stay up for you. but they soon had fallen asleep"

y/n " are they okay no harm to them"

Jake " they are safe as you keep them safe"

neytiro " you took on that Thanator on your own"

y/n " I couldn't let any harm come to the kids I need to make sure, they were completely okay"

Jake " well you have done a good job my love"

y/n " thank you"

neytiro " here drink this it will help you" neytiro had passed you a cup with in drink, as you soon drank it.

y/n " thank you"

neytiro " you are welcome"

Jake " we have spoken to the clan for the time being, the clan will be limited to area for everyone safety"

y/n " that good to know"

Jake " you fought very well honey good job"

y/n " thank you" your husbands had embrace you with hugs and support, they had also been proud of you as well. They had spent the night by your side to make sure, you were okay and the kids are okay as well.The kids the next day when they woke up had been happy, to see you were okay and gave you hugs. That day everyone was able to see that you will do anything for your kids.

[xx-dinah-writing-xx]

Hey, I love all your work and I have a question, can you write something about Tom Taylor.

Maybe he and the reader met on the set of hotd and you know friends to lovers vibe or the reader is a friend of harry collett and he introduces them to each other

Sorry if I wrote something wrong, English is not my first language

Cupid Collett

Tom Taylor x reader

Fluff

It started with Harry. Of course, it did.

You had been friends with Harry Collett for years—one of those effortless friendships where you could go months without speaking and then pick up right where you left off. He was like the annoying little brother you never asked for, always cracking jokes, always dragging you into whatever chaos he had planned.

And this time, his chaos came in the form of Tom Taylor.

"You have to meet Tom," Harry had insisted one day over coffee, practically bouncing in his seat. "I swear, you two are gonna love each other."

You had snorted into your cup, unconvinced. "Oh, yeah? You're setting me up now?"

Harry smirked. "I wouldn't call it setting you up, exactly. Just... introducing two very attractive, very cool people who happen to be single."

"Uh-huh. Sure." You rolled your eyes. "I’m not looking for anything, Collett."

"Who said anything about looking?" He leaned back smugly. "Besides, it's Tom. Just meet him. No pressure."

And that was how you found yourself at a small get-together, standing in Harry’s kitchen, wine glass in hand, when you first met Tom Taylor.

He was leaning against the counter, chatting with a couple of mutual friends, his blonde hair catching the dim light, gray eyes sharp and observant. The first thing you noticed was how tall he was. The second was the effortless charm in the way he smiled, soft and easy, like he had all the time in the world.

Harry, ever the dramatic one, clapped a hand on Tom’s shoulder. "Tom, meet Y/N. Y/N, meet Tom." He grinned like he was presenting a masterpiece. "Now, go ahead. Fall in love or whatever."

You groaned. "Oh my God, Harry."

Tom chuckled, tilting his head as he looked at you. "So, you’re the infamous Y/N?"

"And you’re the apparently life-changing Tom Taylor?"

He smirked. "Depends on who you ask."

Despite yourself, you laughed. And that was all it took.

The night carried on, and you found yourself gravitating toward him. He was funny—witty in a way that made conversation easy. You teased him about being Harry’s golden boy, and he gave it right back, calling you Collett’s partner-in-crime. At some point, Harry wandered off, looking smug as ever, leaving the two of you deep in conversation.

By the time you left, Tom had your number, and you had a very suspicious feeling that Harry had been right.

---

Things didn't happen immediately.

Sure, there was flirting—lots of it. Late-night texts, lingering glances, little touches that lasted longer than necessary. It was frustratingly slow, a dance of almosts and not-yets, but it was addicting.

Then, one night, after too many stolen moments and too much unresolved tension, it happened.

Tom kissed you.

And it was everything—deep and slow and intentional, like he had been holding himself back for too long and just couldn’t anymore.

From that moment on, it was done. You were his. He was yours. Simple as that.

---

Harry found out immediately.

Because of course he did.

You and Tom had barely made it official when Harry burst into your apartment, practically yelling with excitement.

"I knew it!" he announced, grinning like a madman. "I told you! I am a literal matchmaking genius!"

Tom groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "Oh, for fuck’s sake."

You crossed your arms, raising a brow. "And what exactly do you want, Collett? A medal?"

"I want the recognition I deserve, thank you very much." He flopped onto your couch, looking entirely too smug. "I am the reason neither of you are still pathetically single. I should be in both your wedding vows."

Tom rolled his eyes, but you could see the amused twitch of his lips. "You really think we would’ve never met without you?"

"Oh, you definitely wouldn’t have," Harry said matter-of-factly. "I set the whole thing in motion. That makes me the unsung hero of your relationship."

You glanced at Tom, who was already looking at you, biting back a laugh. Then, without a word, you both turned to Harry and, in perfect sync, said, "Thank you, Harry."

His eyes lit up. "See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?"

Tom threw a pillow at him.

Harry, in all his self-proclaimed matchmaking glory, simply grinned.

[redplanetlobster]

I actually went through a couple different Fears for Jason before I settled on the Buried. Most of them I dismissed because I felt Jason would be more likely to be a victim of them than on Avatar (I mean the Buried isn't much different but there're a lot of ways I think Jason can enact the fear, unlike the others I thought about). The Slaughter wasn't actually one though, senseless killing definitely isn't his style. The Hunt definitely could be though. The pursuit of a goal that, once achieved (if it ever could be in the first place), would leave him still searching, still wanting, and ultimately unsatisfied? That sounds like him wanting the Joker dead but refusing to do it himself. That sounds like his wanting of Bruce's approval without the willingness to change himself. That sounds like his fruitless goal of ending crime and violence with crime and violence.

Some of the other Fears I thought about:

Flesh: I'm a huge fan of the hc that Jason has some wild body dysmorphia after his dip in the pit (plus the Flesh is my favorite fear). Unfortunately not many things for him to torture other people with. His low self esteem maybe?

Lonely: Jason woke up in a world that had moved on without him. Everything was different: his family, his city, hell even the Manor was different due to the events of No Mans Land. I wouldn't fault him for feeling completely isolated as the world, as he knew it, just doesn't exist. (I've got a note somewhere in my docs about a fic where Jason gets put on Martin's/a Lonely domain in general. The domain is just the empty Manor (rebuilt after No Mans Land, so remodeled somewhat) with people leaving rooms just before Jason entered because they heard him coming and just couldn't stand to be anywhere close to him for one reason or another)

Web: Jason absolutely loves making plans and getting other people to follow them unknowingly. The entirety of UtRH he was kicking his feet and giggling every time Bruce did the exact thing here planned for.

End: He died. He's literally a zombie. There's not much more to it than that, pretty basic lol. Ultimately, I don't think Jason is patient enough to be an End Avatar.

Now the reasons I think the Buried fits him best (the bullet points are only a suggestion of putting this into coherent ramblings with separate ideas and reasoning lol):

The thought of a man, deathly claustrophobic and physically can't stand the scent of wet earth because it reminds him of the time he had to claw himself out of his own grave, having to dedicate himself to the concept of being buried alive in order to survive is very funny to me. When the thought first occurred to me I had a little chuckle to myself before actually I took a second to think about it.

I think the influence of the Buried would have been with him for his entire life. He grew up in poverty and was orphaned and homeless at a very young age. Jason is very and always has been very aware that the only way for him to go in life is down. Sometimes it is better to be dead.

During his tenure at the Manor, Jason never thought of it as relief from his hardships of the streets. He was just trading them out for new ones. After all, the only reason Bruce took him in was so Batman could have a Robin right? When he couldn't be a good son for Bruce he couldn't be a good Robin and if he wasn't Robin he didn't have a place in Bruce's house now did he?

Robin itself brings a whole lot of weight on its own. Jason was handed the mantle of the first sidekick and told that he could fill his shoes, that he might even be better. He was handed a mask at 13 and told that he was one of the few people standing between a city and its death and destruction.

Warehouses are quite heavy and asphyxiation sounds like a horrible way to go.

Jason had to dig his way out of his own coffin while still suffering from all of the injuries of his death.

Uhhh... I don't really have anything for Lost Days or the UtRH arc. Mainly 'cause those feel like they go pretty firmly into the reasons for Jason to be an Avatar of the Hunt.

When Jason chose to go back to Crime Alley he also chose to take on the weight of it. He chose to take the many problems of his people, many of which you can't actually solve with a gun, make them his problems. He chose to make those problems his.

Jason returned to the Alley, the first place he felt the oppressive but comforting weight of it, and did the only thing he knew how. He went down and shouldered the responsibility of fighting against the system that doomed his home.

Those last two bullet points are dangerously close to me fully writing this au out/getting really into the changes that I think Avatarhood would have on Jason and how I think he would feed on the fear, so I need to stop here. But yeah, I really think that the Buried fits Jason very well.

I've some very sophisticated thoughts about a TMA and Batman crossover but if you ask me any questions about it I'll only be able to tell you about Buried Avatar Jason.