#i tried not to cry writing this but i cried a lot

[powerin]

since dia de los muertos starts tomorrow, that reminds me: miguel’s mask is based off the day of the dead costume he wore when he was in mexico. so he definitely celebrates that holiday.

once a year, i like to believe that miguel, gabriel and conchata make an ofrenda for dana d’angelo and her and miguel’s unborn kid. and dana and gabriella come back on dia de los muertos to comfort them.

“The word “death” is not pronounced in New York, in Paris, in London, because it burns the lips… The Mexican, in contrast, is familiar with death, jokes about it, caresses it, sleeps with it, celebrates it; it is one of his favorite toys and his most steadfast love.”

octavio paz

[buttercupshands]

Congratulations on nothing. I'm back to drawing LoV again after a bit of a break

those are mostly just a redraw practice for fun Toga is a try in "more canon way of drawing" with color practice too

I'm sorry that it's in russian because I have to have some will to localize jokes that came into my head while drawing it

it's like... a robot au??? or something, mostly just a joke "what if AFo just built Tenko and changed what he wanted"

and this is a joke about our 'favorite' 419 plot twist so it's basically just a bunch of joked about AFO failing to get any way to get control instead Tenko's head is not empty. It downloaded games, friends and stuff about being a hero but NOT as a literal hero, more on "villains need help I'm a hero then" way

and yes that text behind is "hands" written all over the place bc I wanted to add hands in handwritten form

[cherryview]

!!!!

[inkedinshadows]

Little Rainbow

Pairing: Azriel × reader

Summary: When you can’t comfort your baby daughter, you bring her to her dad, who always manages to calm her down.

Warnings: just lots of fluff

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: I thought I'd try my hand at writing second person pov instead of third. It just felt natural to write this one in 2nd pov. Maybe I'll stick with it in the future idk. This was born out of my baby fever btw, enjoy!

Azriel sensed you right before his shadows whispered of your arrival. He would recognize those steps and those soft wails anywhere.

A smile was already on his lips when the door opened with a small creak and you, his beautiful and loving mate, walked in holding your few-months-old daughter in your arms.

Leaning against the back of his chair, he watched as his shadows shot forward to greet the two of you, writhing around you and caressing your cheeks. You chuckled, but your daughter's soft cries stopped only for a moment before starting again, her little face even redder.

Azriel had spent centuries thinking he would never find love, that he wasn't good enough to deserve it. He was glad for his brothers’ happiness, and yet silently jealous of what they had. Brother, uncle, friend—he was grateful for it all, he truly was, but he longed for something more.

Then he met you.

Even before the mating bond snapped, he already knew you were the one. He had never been so smitten with someone in all his long years. He fell for you as quickly as a stone sinks in water, and finding out you were mates was just the cherry on top. He was convinced he could never love anything or anyone as much as he loved you.

But then you got pregnant. And when you gave birth, one look at the tiny bundle in Madja's arms was enough to prove him wrong. Seeing his mate holding his baby shortly after brought tears to his eyes, and he couldn't keep them from falling when you passed him Iris���named for the rainbow shining in the sky as she came into the world.

It was one of the happiest moments of his life, if not the happiest: looking down at the fragile, beautiful new life he had helped create.

But now, Iris was crying.

“One of those days?” he asked, his arms already outstretched toward his daughter.

“Yeah… sorry to interrupt you,” you answered with a sigh. You passed the baby to him and perched on the armrest of his chair. “But I tried feeding her, playing with her. I sang her all the lullabies I know. Nothing worked. She wants you.”

Azriel smiled down at Iris, holding her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. And to him, to you, she was. You were never interrupting when it was about her.

“You missed me, little rainbow?” he asked softly, a scarred finger trailing down her red, puffy cheeks. His shadows followed suit to swirl around her little face as if they could wipe away her tears.

He'd been scared at first—scared he would somehow taint something so perfect with his scarred hands, hands that had done things he had never been proud of. Though you had reassured him many times, his every concern melted away completely only when Iris had grabbed his pointer finger and innocently put it in her mouth.

It was exactly what she was doing now. Under Azriel's adoring gaze, his daughter wrapped her tiny hands around the finger he had just used to caress her and began contentedly sucking on it, her wails stopping for the moment.

“I don't understand how you do that,” you complained, though your tone was soft, your eyes full of pure love and adoration as you watched your mate and your baby. “She refused her binky when I gave it to her. Every. Single. Time.”

Azriel finally looked up from his child and met your gaze. Amusement sparked in his eyes at your grumble.

“Don't take it personally, love,” he said, curling one of his wings around you and gently nudging you with it. “She said ‘mama’ the other day.”

Catching on to his little wing bump, you slid from the armrest onto his lap, even as you rolled your eyes at him. “She didn't say 'mama’. She was just babbling. She's too young to say words, Az.”

Azriel hummed thoughtfully, but his gaze slid back to Iris. She was still clutching his finger, and even though it had been almost seven months since she was born, watching her was as mesmerizing as the first time.

She had his eyes—hazel with a speck of green—but her hair was the same shade as yours. The two of you had initially spent hours simply gazing at her, whether she was awake or asleep, endlessly debating who she resembled the most. You claimed she had inherited Azriel's nose, he said she had your mouth. The truth was, it was too soon to know for sure, but neither of you cared. She was your rainbow, and she would always be perfect in Azriel's eyes.

The one thing he wasn't sure how to feel about was the lack of wings. After Feyre's tragic experience while giving birth, he had been relieved when Madja announced that your baby wouldn't have them. He never wanted to see you in such pain or risk losing you during childbirth. And yet, he was still Illyrian. Nothing could change that. A part of him longed for the chance to teach his baby daughter to fly, to hear the song of the wind and feel that unparalleled sense of freedom that only came from soaring high in the sky.

“Maybe it's the shadows.”

Your voice dragged him back to reality, and he turned to you with a furrowed brow.

“Why she's always calmer around you,” you clarified, gesturing to the shadows swirling around Iris. You caressed her head, and her eyes tracked back to you as she giggled around Azriel's finger. “They soothe her.”

Azriel smiled, his heart soaring at the sound of his daughter's soft laughter. His wing curled more tightly around you, drawing you closer so he could place a gentle kiss on your temple. “She's just like her mom, isn't she?”

You could only nod, returning his loving smile with one of your own. It was true—his shadows had always been a safe space to you. The first time he had seen you upset, they rushed to you, swirling around you and brushing your cheeks and your neck until you chuckled. From that moment, whether it was anger, sadness, or fatigue, they would leave Azriel's side to cheer you up before he could even take a step in your direction.

Your head came to rest on Azriel’s shoulder and you both watched your daughter's eyes grow heavy, her lids starting to drop as she stubbornly tried to keep them open, her hold on her dad's finger relenting.

“You fall asleep so easily in daddy's arms, don't you, little rainbow?” you whispered as you tenderly booped her cute little nose. “Just like mommy.”

Azriel chuckled, placing his now-free hand on the small of your back to gently nudge you to stand up. “Let's go to bed, love.”

You rose from his lap, and he immediately felt the absence of your warmth against him, but you only stood in front of him with that cute frown of yours—the one that created a small crease between your brows that he always wanted to smooth with his thumb.

Azriel knew exactly what you were thinking.

During the last month of your pregnancy, he had asked Rhys to keep missions away from Velaris to a bare minimum. And after Iris was born, he had stopped taking on any missions that required him to be away for more than two days, because he simply couldn't bear the thought of being separated from you and his baby girl. After centuries, he had finally learned the meaning of the word “delegate”. But sending his spies on jobs he'd usually do himself had led to a high pile of documents and reports on his desk—a pile he mostly tackled after you and Iris had gone to bed.

“I'm done working for tonight,” he reassured you, standing up and rocking Iris in his arms. “It can wait.”

It couldn't, not really. Some of those papers had been sitting on his desk for days, and the Azriel he was until seven months ago would have recoiled at the mere thought of unfinished work. But that was before an eternal rainbow added even more colors to his life than you already had.

You only smiled at him and brushed a kiss against his cheek. “Let's go to bed, then,” you repeated before turning to walk out.

Azriel followed you, his baby’s eyes fluttering open at the movement and darting around as he walked down the pastel-blue hallway. She was always so curious, even when tired.

Not wanting to risk Iris deciding she’d rather stay awake and explore than sleep, Azriel began to hum her favorite lullaby. You glanced over your shoulder at the sound of his deep voice resonating off the walls, a soft smile on your lips as you watched the shadows gently sway to the melody.

He met your gaze when you stopped in front of Iris’s room, where you had painted the walls a light shade of pink while Azriel assembled the cream-colored furniture. He shook his head and gestured for you to keep walking, never interrupting his soft singing as Iris’s eyes fluttered closed once more. You raised an eyebrow but continued toward your bedroom at the end of the hallway.

You had recently started getting Iris used to sleeping in her own room instead of yours, with both doors left open for the rare times she still woke up at night. But tonight, Azriel wanted to hold both his girls in his arms.

Iris was fast asleep by the time Azriel gently placed her in the center of your large bed, careful not to wake her up. She rolled onto her tummy and let out a content sigh that had you both staring in awe.

You turned to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. “You didn't want her to sleep alone?” you murmured, your tone amused.

“I couldn't,” he answered with a smile, his fingers tangling in your silky hair. “She missed me, you said it yourself.”

You chuckled, leaning up to peck him on the lips.

Azriel didn't let you pull away.

It felt like a lifetime had passed since he last had some alone time with you. If it wasn't Iris needing attention and care, it was his duties as spymaster keeping him so busy that you had resorted to dragging your favorite armchair in his study, where you would curl up with a book during your daughter's nap time. Sitting in comfortable silence as you each focused on your own tasks was better than being apart.

He felt you relax, melting against his body as he deepened the kiss, and only then did he pull back to rest his forehead against yours.

“And I missed you,” he whispered. Your cheeks were warm under his touch and he took a moment to just breathe in your familiar, soothing scent.

“Then you should have let Iris sleep in her crib, my love,” you said with a glance at your daughter. A mischievous gleam entered your eyes when they settled on him again. “Because I really miss you too.”

Azriel's soft laugh echoed in the room, and he kissed the top of your head. “Tomorrow,” he promised. He could make those reports wait a bit longer.

You smirked, stealing one last kiss before stepping back to peel off your clothes. He took a moment to admire you—your smooth skin, the dip of your hips, the soft curve of your stomach that remained from childbirth—but he quickly undressed as well, and soon you were both in bed, with Iris nestled between you.

Azriel placed a broad hand on her back to draw her a bit closer, and his wing draped over you as you scooted over, enveloping the three of you in a warm, dark cocoon, the silence interrupted only by your daughter’s soft snoring.

He felt you move in the dark and guessed you had just kissed Iris when you murmured, “Goodnight, my rainbow. Even though you didn't let me sing you lullabies.”

Azriel didn't need to see your face to know you had a loving look in your eyes and a playful smile on your lips.

“Of course she prefers my lullabies,” he teased, brushing his thumb over Iris's back. “She's her daddy's girl.”

For a moment, he was tempted to fold back his wing and let the moonlight caress your face, just to catch your cute pout as you said, “I used to be your girl.”

“You still are, love. You're both my girls,” he assured you, letting his wing lower over you like a second blanket. “You're my family. There's nothing I love more than you and Iris.”

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice now stripped of all playfulness. Only pure, undiluted sincerity remained, warming his heart. “Both of you.”

Silence fell again, and it wasn't long before your breathing evened out as you drifted into sleep. But Azriel stayed awake a while longer, listening to the steady rhythm of his mate's soft sighs and his daughter's occasional snorts.

His own little family—everything he had ever wanted, more than he had ever dared to hope for.

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @andreperez11

[parfaitblogs]

never grow up ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you are at the age you never thought you'd live to. 

genre: hurt/comfort + fluff! tags: established relationship. (very brief) mentions of r not eating. depression. non sexual nudity. mention of a past suicide attempt. reader is codependent on spencer #anxiousattachment!! mini argument not really because he loves you a lot!!! please know your triggers ♡  word count: 2.2k a/n: this was a vent write. LOL! i think i switch tenses a lot in this? i tried to fix it. this is why we don't write fanfiction while we're crying!!! i love u i love u i love u and i am so so glad you are the age that you are!! continue to grow please!! life will become beautiful!!!

Depression is a funny thing.

Sometimes you are forgetting there has ever been a version of you out there that fantasised about death and longed for an escape from this world you deemed so cruel, so invasive. Other times, you are sat naked on the cold floor of your bathroom rocking back and forth, clawing at your skin and ripping hair out of your scalp because you are sobbing so ferociously. The world spinning around you and your cries, so violent, are making you lightheaded and you wonder if you pass out here if anyone will ever find you. 

Clearly, tonight, you are the latter.

It started as a small pit in your stomach that morning, that you braved through and ignored to the best of your ability, even as you said gentle 'no thank you's' to food offered by your co-workers and forced your brain to focus on work and not the never-ending abyss of dread in your abdomen. Then, it became a tear or two on your way home, that you vehemently wiped away and pretended was never there because it couldn't be. 

Then you were showering to get your mind off things — a stupid decision, really. For your brain was latching on to every awful emotion it had felt thus far today, and you were stepping out of the shower with an even heavier heart, and your hands were wrapping around your now goosebump riddled body, as you were sinking to the floor in a ball.

And maybe hours passed by you. Maybe days — it certainly felt that way. Maybe it was only a mere five minutes. But your loud sobs felt like they took an achingly long time to slow and quiet down, until they were falling into ugly sniffles of the snot on your face, and a raging headache behind your eyes. 

Loud sobs — scream sobs, really — had a lot of disadvantages. The aftermath feeling of embarrassment of screaming at your brain that refused to simply shut up, the scratch at your throat from every sound you ripped from it. The audio block it gave you from the rest of the world. For you truly were in your own universe when you were howling alone in the comfort of your bathroom walls.

So much so, that the familiar sound of a door opening and closing, and a bag being placed down by the side of it, went entirely unnoticed to you. Footsteps against your apartment's wooden flooring weren't picked up, nor were the first two knocks on your bathroom door. By the third, you were blubbering through saliva and snot, and you had heard it. Followed by a very gentle calling of your name, that had your heart clenching within your chest for a new reason. 

He had said he was coming home tomorrow. Which almost always meant he wouldn't be home for another three days, and so, in your mind, you thought bawling that night could be a secret kept between you and your tiles. 

Apparently not. 

He called your name again when you didn't reply, an added hint of desperation in his voice. Trembling, you stood, your limbs feeling as though they were creaking while you straightened them out. And you didn't bother about the towel sitting in a crumpled heap on the floor, nor the pile of your clean clothes sitting on the countertop. In fact, you didn't bother about anything as a shaking hand twisted the doorknob and pulled it open.

In an instant, his worried frown deepened, and eyes that might usually drink in the sight of your naked body beautifully, now didn't wander further than the scarlet scratch marks along your neck — blood vessels risen to the surface from how fragile that part of you was. He exhaled, and took a hesitating step towards you. One you welcomed by remaining planted in your spot — you didn't know if you could move, though. 

"Can I ask what's wrong, or do you simply want a hug?" 

Both, you wanted to say. Both, but also neither. 

You didn’t say that. Instead, you said, "Hug."

He hardly took a second to register what you'd said before his arms were wrapping around you. If he found the slightly damp state of your skin annoying, he didn't comment on it. He didn't say much at all, as he enveloped you into his body, a hand securing itself on the back of your head, and his chin resting atop your head. 

Water dripped uncomfortably to the floor, splattering on the tiles and his shoes, being the only sound aside from your irregular hiccups and sniffles. His button-up was wet from your tears and your body, and you could almost hear his complaints about it, if this were any other day. 

Minutes passed, and even though you didn't want to, you pulled back, feeling his hands slip around to your waist and hold you benevolently. Your own hands reached up to your face to wipe away tears, an embarrassed laugh escaping your lips. 

"This is pathetic," you said, fingers digging into the corners of your stinging eyes. 

"How?" he asked you.

"I didn't think you'd be home to see me having a mental breakdown."

A smile that didn't quite reach his eyes appeared on his lips. "Well, I am." Fingers squeezed your waist reassuringly. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

You shrugged, wordlessly, your eyes dropping from his face to the damp spot on his chest from where your face had once been, heart stuttering. 

"We don't have to, honey," he said. "But it might help."

"I know it might," you muttered. 

He was silent, as were you. A few more beats passed between you two, before you were turning around to pick up clothes you had left for yourself on the counter. You didn't really feel any different under his watchful gaze as you dressed yourself. Accustomed to the act, or simply too overwhelmed with another emotion, you didn't know. 

He followed you into the living room when you walked out there, and he sat down next to you on the couch you curled up on. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, and he lifted his head on each intake of breath you had, as if about to say something. But you never did. 

So, he took over.

"Did something happen today?" You shook your head, and he nodded his own. "Okay. This past week?" You shook your head again, because other than missing him while he had been stuck in Texas for a case, nothing had actually happened. 

You wished it had. Truly, you wished you had experienced a murder on your way to work, or a distant family member had passed away so you could blame this feeling on something other than memories simply resurfacing. 

You sniffled again. "You know," you began, voice thick and wobbly from the lump lodged in your throat. "When I was fourteen, I didn't think I'd ever be this old."

Your gaze lifted from your lap to look at him, and you let a helpless tear fall from one of your eyes when you locked eyes with him. He was confused, unsurprisingly so.

So, you continued. "I tried to kill myself. When I was fourteen."

He readjusted his posture, eyebrows falling into a more concerned state, and he was silent for so long you wondered if this was when he decided you were too much and too complicated for him to deal with. 

He didn't. "I didn't know," he said, instead. 

"I don't exactly advertise it," you replied, and even if it was an attempt at being light hearted, it fell flat. "I just realised I never thought I'd be this age," you continued when he hardly reacted, "and I've been really anxious and down all week, so I think that realisation kind of sent me over the edge."

"Are you happy you're at this age?" 

Hesitantly, but surely, you nodded your head. "I got to meet you."

His lips twitched, but a smile never crossed his face. "You should be happy for reasons more than just me."

"You are my reason for being happy," you argued. 

"And I'm glad to hear I make you happy, but I cannot be your only reason."

"Why not?"

"Because that's dependency." 

You short-circuited, and he sighed upon realising the way you were taking his words — maybe not the smartest thing he could've said to his still tear-stricken-faced girlfriend. 

"What I mean is you should have other areas in your life that make you happy. Not just me."

"I like my job," you mumbled, gaze relocating to your lap. "And my friends."

"Great," he said, and you could feel his weight shifting on the couch as he nudged closer to you. "As long as I'm not your reason for living."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "You've been my reason for living since we started dating. Why is it different now?"

"I didn't know I was your reason for living until now."

"So if you are, then what? You leave me?" 

"No," his response was so immediate you were sure you could feel the whiplash, and he ran a hand down his face with an exasperated sigh. "I don't want to fight with you when you're like this."

"I don't want to fight with you either," you agreed, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. "I'm sorry I'm co-dependent."

He didn't respond for a while, mulling everything you two had shared and now, your apology, over in his head. You sat, anxiously, as minutes ticked by until he was puffing his cheeks to let out air, and standing up from the couch. 

He turned to you. "I love you, you know that," he began, and even before he had a chance to finish, you were already drowning him out, world crumbling around you as tears welled back up in your eyes. Maybe if you weren't as emotional as you were that night, your vision wouldn't have already gone blurry, and your heart wouldn't be shattering in your chest already. 

"But?" you countered, a sob escaping you at the end of the word.

He froze at the sound of it, his eyebrows turning in to each other, "Sorry?"

"You love me, but?"

"I don't understand."

"I'm sitting here, sobbing really violently and I look hideous, and you've just discovered I'm co-dependent, and you don't like that about me, so now you're telling me that you love me, but this isn't going to work out, and I need to work on myself before I get into another relationship, and you hope I can find happiness, and—"

"—What are you talking about?" he cut your ranting off, blinking a few times, confused. 

"Is that not what's happening?" 

"No?"

"Oh."

You stared at him, and he stared at you, and you felt your heart slowly pick itself back up from the pits of your stomach, each piece mending itself back together. He wasn't breaking up with you.

"I wasn't going to say that at all. Please don't put words in my mouth."

"Sorry," you said, though it wasn't very sincere. He crouched down in front of you, hands finding your fidgeting ones to hold them.

"Can I finish what I'm going to say before you cut me off this time?" Wordlessly, you nodded your head, and so he continued. "I love you, and you know that, and I don't want you to think I'm upset or mad at you for being codependent. You're allowed to not know how to navigate a relationship. But—"

"—There it is—" he glared with no real heat at you, and your lips twitched "—Sorry."

"But I need you to communicate with me. I'm going to inevitably do things that upset you, because you're co-dependent. We need to figure those things out, because a lot of the time you will respond unhealthily, and knowing what I know now, I don't want to be a trigger in any way."

"You won't be a trigger," you mumbled, and he shot you a pointed look, and your shoulders deflated. "I just feel stupid communicating things like that. Like, oh, I'm sad because my boyfriend is out of state for work and he's super busy and not responding to my messages so I think he might hate me."

"That isn't stupid."

"Yes it is!"

He said your name, eyebrows risen, and he shook his head. "You're upset about something. That isn't a stupid thing at all."

"It feels stupid."

"Okay, well, how about the next time I'm away on a case and not replying and you miss me, which is what that crazy, sad, completely reasonable phenomenon is called, by the way, you communicate that with me, and you see how I respond?"

"What if you tell me to go fuck myself?" 

He didn't even need to verbally deny your words for you to know that that response was completely out of character for him. All it took was one simple look, and you were diffidently smiling and averting your gaze, mumbling a quiet, "Okay."

And yes, the next time he was out of the state and you missed him, as he so kindly put it, you told him. And he spent three hours on the phone that night with you, reassuringly expressing how much he loved you, and how little he hated you.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[fungateshortcakes]

Tummy ache

Do I have kids? No. Do I want kids? Fuck no. Did I still write this because dad logan makes me feel a certain type of way? HELL YES

Pairing: Worst!Logan x single mom!Reader

Summary: It's late and your little daughter Laura won't stop crying and screaming, no matter what you do. You take her to your best friend Wade, who lives in the same apartment buildung. Will he and Logan be able to help you?

Wordcount: 3.4k

Warning/tags: english is not my first language, fluff, slight missunderstandings, Wade bc he needs a warning, implied sexual themes, friends to lovers, just cuteness, Laura doesn't exists as an adult like in the movie, rushed ending?, leave me alone I finished this at midnight

__________________________________

Logan was snoring on the couch in Wades apartment when loud, frantic knocks sounded on the door. He grumbled in annoyance as he turned, pulling a pillow over his head.

He heard Wade skip to the door in a pair of white underpants with hearts on them and a loose, grey wolverine fangirl shirt. "Must be the horse dildo I ordered" he spoke happily as if it was the most normal thing to say. Once Wade opened the door, the piercing shrieks of a baby crying echoed through the apartment.

You held your one year and a half old daughter in your arms, her face red as she cried into your shoulder. Wade noted that your hair was a mess and you seemed awfully tired. Well- it was late and on any other day, you and your daughter would already be sleeping. But there was clearly something that bothered her. She had been crying and screeching and in discomfort for an hour without you finding what caused it or how to fix it.

You tried feeding her, but she wouldn't open her mouth for the spoon. You tried reading to her, but she would always push away the books. You changed her diapers in case her sensitive skin was irritated by the dampness, but she hadn't peed. You didn't know why she was so distressed and nothing seemed to distract her from whatever it was that made her cry.

You were desperate. And while your best friend Wade wasn't really...fond of kids, which you couldn't blame him for, you still went to him for help. You never truly wanted kids yourself. But when the condom broke and your ex left you upon finding out you were pregnant, you were stuck with your baby. And now you wouldn't trade her for the world. Except in times where she was screaming with no appearant reason. "Hey Wade, I'm so sorry to bother you guys this late at night, but Laura, she won't stop crying. I've tried everything and I don't know what to do" you croaked, rocking the small child in your arms, shushing her to no avail.

Wade brought you inside so you wouldn't stay outside in the hallway any longer. No need for some neighbors to peek their head out of their doors to see what was going on.

In situations like these, Wade could be oddly serious and actually tried to help. He knew you were insecure because of your baby. You didn't want to be a nuisance or burden to anyone because you knew that your daughter could be a lot. Kids were high maintanance and you didn't want to make people feel like they were obligated to make room and drop everything once you arrived with your child. You couldn't expect from anyone that they were okay with you bringing your kid over. But Wade wanted you to know that even though he didn't like kids, you were his best friend and Laura had been nothing but a sweetheart so far. You were always welcome in his apartment.

Wade kicked Logan from the couch "Get your fat ass off the couch, the Lady needs a place to sit" he loudly said over Lauras crying. Logan groaned. You sat on the sofa and tried to take up as little space as possible. "Im sorry Logan, didn't want to disturb your sleep." you apologized meekly. "I can..I can move to the chair here" you muttered, pointing to an uncomfortable-looking wooden chair that replaced an armchair, which had recently been thrown out of the apartment due to mysterious stains and various rips and cuts in the fabric.

You had met Logan a few times since he lived with Wade and Althea. And you would be a liar if you said he didn't catch your eye. He was tall, broad and very handsome, pretty much right up you alley. But there was no way he was looking for a chaotic single mother that barely had her life together and struggled to raise an unplanned child because her ex left her. Yeah, no. You were miserable. Logan didn't need any of that.

Adding to that, he always seemed to avoid you when Laura was near. You just thought he didn't like kids, which was totally fair. Truthfully, Logan liked kids and had always wanted some of his own, but it just...never happened. With him being the worst wolverine and all.

Then why did he avoid you and your baby?

Simply said, he didn't want to scare her. Most kids looked at him like he was some sort of big, bad monster. Some ran away, some started crying, others hid from him behind their parents when he walked by. He wasn't good with children either because they never let him close enough before getting scared. He was afraid that Laura would react the same way like all children did. He didn't want you to back away once you realised that Laura didn't approve of him.

He couldn't bear only seeing you from afar.

As you were about to stand up from the couch, Logan stopped you. "No, its fine. Stay on the couch. I can move" he replied and you felt another pang as he moved away from you again.

Wade leaned over the couch, looking down at Laura who was still wailing uncontrollably. You sighed deeply, a throbbing ache behind your eyes. "Why won't you stop crying? What's wrong, sweetheart?" you nearly sobbed as well. You were so tired of this, so tired of this sound. You felt so helpless and stupid. "Maybe she wants some food? We have some left-over pizza, I can grind that stuff up into a slurry for her or something" Wade suggested.

You softly shook your head. "She doesn't want to eat, I tried. I also tried to read her a bedtime story, but she just push me away. I also changed her diapers but nothing helped" you rasped, ready to just fall asleep on the spot.

Wade reached down to get your crying daughter out of your arms. "How about you get some sleep while Wolvie and I take care of Laura? Maybe we'll find out what's rubbing her the wrong way." Wade said, cooing to your crying baby. You fell onto the couch, closing your eyes. "I can't just sleep when she is crying" you mumbled, clearly deadly tired.

"We'll take care of her. You go sleep" Logan drawled and his deep voice soothed you even more, made you even more sleepy. It was so easy to let your body betray your mind and you hated it. "Okay..." you whispered, too tired to argue. And before you could snuggle into the couch cushions, you felt two strong arms slip under your body and lifting you up as if you weighted nothing. You were so tired, you couldn't even gasp or protest as Logan brought you into Wades room, your senses enveloped with his scent.

He carefully lowered you down onto the matress, covering you up with a blanket. "Sleep tight, love. We'll take great care of your little one, so you don't have to worry about a thing" he drawled softly and only after closing the door behind him did he hope that you hadn't catched his slip-up, that he had called you love.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

In had been another two hours of constant crying and screaming. The kid must be exhausted from all the crying, but she still didn't stop. If you asked Logan, it became even worse.

"God, can you shut up for a minute? I am trying everything here!" Wade stressed, bouncing Laura in his arms and patting her back. "Don't tell your mom I said that" he whispered right after. Laura wailed and pushed herself away from Wade with her tiny hands, which were surprisingly really strong. She squirmed in his grasp, desperate to be set down.

"This is how you thank me? I've worked my ass off the past hour to get everything to your liking and now you push me away?" he grumbled, but set her down with a loud 'ouch!' after she started to scratch him.

Her tiny feet waddled against the livingroom floor as fat tears rolled down her chubby cheeks. She had a tummy ache, but she couldn't communicate that with anyone. There were a few words she knew and could say- cat, dog, mama. But she didn't have the words to say that something was hurting.

Logan sat on the couch and watched her as she stood a few feet away from him with her red face, screaming together the whole neighborhood. He sighed deeply, the sound making his ears ring. Then, out of nowhere, she waddled over to him.

"No, no, bub. Not a good idea. Get back to uncle Wade" he told her, scooting up the couch a bit more. He could have just stood up and walk away- why didn’t he? Laura stood between his legs now, demanding uppies from him as she cried. Logan shook his head, ready to call Wade from the kitchen, when Laura began screetching, stretching herself to Logan, standing on her small tip toes.

With a huff, he picked her up, his big and warm hands eveloping her small body. He leaned back against the couch with her on his lap. To his surpise, she quieted down. "You okay now, bub?" he asked her, jumping as she snuggled herself against his chest. Due to his mutation, Logan was always very warm. His whole body was like a heater and that warmth soothed Lauras tummy ache, unbeknownst to him.

The apartment was quiet now, only a few hiccups and sighs coming from Laura as she let her stomach ache be washed away by Logans cozy warm body. He didn't know what to do! One minute he was tortured by her screams and now she was napping on him. On him! Out of all people, she chose to rest on him.

"Is she dead!?" It was now Wades turn to yell as he came stumbling into the kitchen because it suddenly went all quiet. Logan didn't answer him nor did he move a muscle, too scared to wake your baby up.

"What the fuck" Wade blurted out upon seeing something he had never thought he would ever witness in his entire life. Logan shushed him, making Wade frown. He came closer, his face next to Lauras sleeping one "You little cheating slut" he sharply whispered, earning himself a shove from Logan. "Seriously, did you knock her out? Why is she sleeping all of a sudden?" Wade asked with crossed arms.

"I don't know. She wanted me to pick her up, so I did. Then she stopped crying and fell asleep" Logan explained, a warm feeling spreading in his chest as he watched the slow rise and fall of Lauras breath, her tiny hand tightly holding onto his shirt.

"Wow" Wade said. "You're the baby whisperer" Logan shot him a glare.

Wade went on a rant about how everything would have been easier if Logan took Laura from the start before finally falling asleep draped over the chair, leaving Logan alone with his thoughts. For a moment, Logan thought about bringing Laura to you so she could sleep with her mom. But as he tried to peel her off of him, she started fuzzing and whimpering until she was laying back on his chest.

He sighed deeply. Well, gotta make the best of the situation, huh? With a grunt, he made himself comfortable on the couch and fell asleep with a broad hand securily holding Laura on top of him.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

You woke up well rested. Weird. You haven't slept this good since Laura had been born.

Laura!

You jumped awake, stumbling over some stuff in Wades room before you reached the door. It was quiet as you opened it and you were met with the sight of Logan, the fucking Wolverine, sound asleep with your daughter cuddled up on him as if he was some kind of big teddy.

Your heart soared in your chest, your stomach did flips and summer saults. And your pussy throbbed. Couldn't help it, seeing him with your baby did something to your ovaries. It was...so cute. You wanted nothing more than to snuggle up with them, trace patterns onto his pecks while Laura would squeak out an adorable smile-

"Mama" Laura squealed suddenly, flashing you a smile with her few teeth. "Hey there, baby" you cooed to her, kneeling down next to the couch to be eye-level with her. She smiled brightly, whatever it was that had bothered her yesterday completely forgotten. "You seem happy using uncle Logan as a pillow" you said to her, kissing her chubby cheek.

Logan started waking up, only registering Laura at first. "You slept well, bub?" he muttered with a deep sleep laced voice, gently rubbing Lauras small head with his large hand that easily fitted around the back of her head.

"Yes, I did. Thank you for asking" you giggled softly, amused by the way Logan nearly jumped out of his skin upon noticing that you were there too, witnessing how he went soft for your daughter. An embarrassed blush krept onto his face and he cleared his throat, sitting up and avoiding your gaze. "Sorry, she...she only stopped crying when she sat on my lap"

You smiled softly at him. "Seems like she really likes you, then." and I like you too, you wanted to add, but didn't. "She is usually not that touchy with people she barely met" you said and hearing your reassurance- the fact that Laura seemed to like him- it warmed his heart. But he would never admit that.

"Well, I guess I'm flattered" Logan replied with the hint of a smile, his gaze soft as you lost yourself in his eyes, Lauras babbling fading into the background. For a moment, you let yourself think about what could have been. This baby, it could have been Logans and yours. She could have been born because two people truly loved each other. Did Logan love you? You doubted it. But when he looked at you like that, you allowed yourself to be fooled.

"I don't know how you manage to fuck each other just with your eyes, but get a room. There are children present" Wade suddenly said outraged, covering Mary Puppins eyes.

You picked up Laura from Logans lap, holding her against your hip to bring distance between you, Logan and Wades teasing. Logan cleared his throat, clearly disappointed.

"I am so, so thankful that you guys helped me. I don't know what you did or what was wrong with her, but she seems all better now. Is there anything I can do to show my gratitude? you asked, gently bouncing Laura in your arms.

Logan shook his head "No need, bub" he grumbled in his deep voice. He would have done this a thousand times if it meant he could hold your baby in his arms as if it was his. "Make that creamy ass mac and cheese and my life is yours. That stuff tastes and sounds better than any pussy" Wade chimes in, making you laugh. You promised to invite both of them over for dinner sometimes this week and they happily agreed. Laura squeaked out a cute "bye!" before you went back to your own apartment again.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Ever since that day, visits to either Wades or your apartment became more frequent and Laura couldn't be happier seeing Logan pretty much every day. She would stick to his leg from the minute she saw him and to the last second before he left. It was adorable and made you fall even deeper in love with someone you could never have.

Wade made it his mission to steal Laura away from you and Logan. Partly because he wanted you to spend more time alone, and to teach her some words since he was her 'uncle' after all.

Laura sat on his lap, staring down at Wades phone. He looked over her head. He had a picture open that showed you, Laura, Logan and Wade. "And who is that?" he pointed to you, earning a delighted squeal from Laura as she pointed to your smiling face on the picture as well "Mama!" she babbled. Wade cheered her on, applauding her. "That's right, and that is Dada. Dada" he pointed to Logan. Laura recognized him, smiling brightly and giggling, but she didn't say anything. "Can you say that? Dada?" Wade asked in the best baby voice he could muster. But still, Laura wouldn't say anything. "Come on, say Dada. Da-da" Wade tried one last time, but Laura unwrapped himself from his arms to go and play with some toys scrattered on the floor. He huffed in frustration. It was easier to teach kids swear words than this.

Two days later, the day for the dinner came and someone rang your doorbell. You left Laura to play on her playmat and went over to the door, opening it a slit before realising that it was Logan. You fixed your hair with flushed cheeks, you hadn't expected him to come this early, you had just started the dinner preperations. "Oh, hey Logan. What are you doing here? Dinner was planned in two hours" you said, gingerly letting him into your apartment which you hadn't had the time to tidy up yet. Logan wasn't the guy to judge, but you still felt insecure.

"I thought I'd help you with the cooking and all. Look after Laura so you can work in peace" he said, knowing that he was just here to spend more time with you and Laura alone to give him the feeling of having his own little domestic family that he will never actually experience.

You smiled at him "That's very nice of you, but Laura is actually being very umcomplicated today" speaking of which, you showed him that your kid was silently playing with her toys. Upon noticing you and Logan, she squealed and stood up slowly, trying to keep her balance, before she waddled up to him excitedly. "There's my little pumpkin" he drawled, bending down to pick her up swiftly.

"Dada!" she giggled, making you an Logan stop in your tracks. "Did you hear that?" he asked you, looking over at you with a shocked expression. You frowned. You had never taught her to say that. "Sweetheart, who is that?" You asked the little girl, tapping Logans arm, just to be sure you hadn't heard her incorrectly. "Dada" she squeaks again, playing with his coarse beard.

You both looked at each other in disbelieve and for a second, you feared Logan woulf shove Laura into your arms and leave. "Look, I'm sorry. I don't know where she got that from" you tried to apologize, but the rejection from Logan never came.

He held her lovingly to his chest, giving her forhead a kiss. It made your heart pound faster. "No, it's okay" he reassured you, his large hand enveloping the back of Lauras head. "I...I could be her dad. If you want me to be" his question struck you like lightning, it was like a damn marriage proposal.

A marriage proposal you would never say no to. He looked at you with hopeful eyes, waiting for your answer and worrying he had overstepped.

"Yes. Be the father she never had. And please be the love I always wanted" you whispered, leaning up to kiss him. The kiss was soft, your lips brushing against the other and it was nothing you had ever felt before. You had kissed your ex- but never did it feel like this. So right. His free hand snaked around your waist, deepening the kiss until Laura decided to pull at your shiny necklace.

You smiled at her, taking her into your arms. "Do you want to play with daddy while I make mac and cheese?" you asked your daughter and minutes later, Logan had brought her playmat and some toys into the kitchen to sit beside her on the ground to watch and entertain her. It was like nothing had changed. Little did you know, Logan had accepted the little girl as his daughter way before today, even if you guys had never confessed.

And as you stole glances down to Logan, who was already looking at you with these half lidded bedroom eyes, you knew that after dinner, Logan and you would be trying for Lauras sibling.

_______________________________

I really hoped you liked this, I feel like I've rusted a bit. Still got a lot of smut ideas and fics open that I need to finish. Wish me luck☹ if you saw any grammatical mistakes, no you didn't. Leave me alone im tired

Btw, thanks to @buck-star for motivation me to finally finish this <33

[nervoushottee]

it happened quiet | daryl dixon x fem!reader

Summary: [1.5k] What you and Daryl have is a soft quiet love.

Big Bald Ass Note: I’ve always had a love for Daryl Dixon. He was one of the first “older man” crushes I ever had many years ago. I’ve always loved his character and the way Norman Reedus has and still does portray this character is like no other. My favorite thing about him that I didn’t understand when I watched twd when I was young but grew into adulthood was his introverted character. And how his care for others was soft, quiet and subtle yet strong and profound all at the same time. As a person who has a quiet love, personally prefers it and deeply cherishes that quiet love. I had the sudden urge to write this. I’ve been getting back into my Daryl Dixon phase recently and I just couldn’t get this out of my head. Thank you to @moonpascal for giving me that little push I needed to just go for it while the juices were flowing despite my other fic waiting outside waving her hands hoping to be seen, This is a long author’s note but this piece is truly something that means a lot to me. Which is funny because this is literally fanfiction but it's still writing and it's still art and it's mine. 

Enjoy.

Daryl wasn’t an affectionate person. It’s never been something that just came easy to him. He never received it as a child and didn’t think anything of it once he got older. 

There was one time when he was really really young. He was waiting for Merle after school, his older brother’s school building a few blocks away, and he watched his classmates greet their parents. He saw the parents with bright eyes and wide smiles. Mothers kissing their sons on the cheeks and fathers rubbing the top of their heads.

 A strong deep feeling within his belly grew from the sight of it and it got bigger and bigger as the two Dixon brothers walked back home.

And when they got to their home, Daryl saw their mom had been exactly in the same spot where the two boys had left her. Face down into the pillow, an arm hanging off the side of the bed where a spilled bottle of Jack Daniels had stained seeped into the carpet. 

Daryl cried for the first time ever. He cried for something he never had. 

He didn’t cry when he saw kids on the streets with new bikes and scooters. Didn’t cry when his mom and dad would yell until the sun went down. But he cried for this. That deep strong feeling that he couldn’t name poured out of him and he cried. Standing in the hallway as he watched his mother sleep. 

Merle, barely a teen and was bitching about spilled liquor, thought he was crying because mom looked too still. His older brother checked her pulse and felt the faint thump, thump, thump. “She’s jus sleepin’ Daryl.”, he explained to him. But Daryl didn’t stop crying. He hunched over, clutched his chest like his heart had been twisted and shoved down into his stomach and cried.

When Merle finally found out why he was crying, the older brother placed his hands on each of Daryl’s shoulders, stooped to his level and looked directly into his eyes. 

“Dixons don’t cry. Not over that or anything else. We just weren’t made for that stuff.” 

Daryl never cried or wanted it again. 

Until now. 

Until you. 

When the world’s gone to shit and the dead are walking. You gotta learn how to start trusting the living. Well,  to learn how to trust your group. They don’t just become a group of people you survive with. They become your family whether you like it or not. 

And in the beginning, Daryl sure as hell didn’t like it. 

He tried to force it away. To keep himself on the outside like he’s always done. Still did even when his brother went missing when they went back for him on that roof. But when time goes on and people die you build something, you find something and you learn something. He warmed into being more into the group. To being something of importance to Rick and the others. More than just Merle’s younger brother.  

He remembers Carol telling him that he was meant for a leadership role but he’s never thought that about himself. And never will.

And getting closer to them came with affection. Came with a bond. With awkward hugs from Carol when he had spent day and night looking for Sophia. Her cropped hair pressed against his bandaged ear. It came with pats on the back from Rick and looks that meant something a lot more brotherly than he’s ever felt with Merle. With you and your small smiles and lingering eyes. 

He had to learn to accept it. To learn that it was okay and wasn’t out of pity. That it was something he was actually allowed to have. It took him a long time to and he still only takes it in doses. Giving Carol a Cherokee Rose or the brief massage of her sore shoulder. Patting Rick’s shoulder,  hoping he knows how much his brotherly bond means to him through it. Nodding his head at you with the tip of his ears a bit red as he turns his head away from you. 

You’ve been a part of the group for as long as he could remember. And the two of you didn’t become something immediately. Daryl was an ass to you when all of this first started. He was an ass to everyone. But when he would small smiles from the courtyard, he would feel something that had never stirred inside of him before.

You were a touchy person. 

Always within arms reach of someone. Giving Lori a reassuring squeeze of the hand or hug when she seemed like she would just break down in tears from the stress of being pregnant in this world. Kissing the top of Beth's head when she came to you with her anxieties over the group's safety. Or playfully slapping T-Dog’s shoulder when he used to make you laugh.

But when it came to Daryl you never touched him. And he felt off about it. Thankful but off.

 When the two of you were starting to become something more, he had subtly brought it up when the two of you were on watch. It felt like pulling teeth when he asked you. And he would rather have done that with a rusted wrench than do this.

“I know you Daryl.” you said to him with a shrug. 

That was the only thing that you said to him when he had asked but it was all that he needed. As your eyes never left his, he watched you smile softly. The moon giving your skin a light glow. You knew that he doesn’t respond well to physical affection. To hugs or kisses on the cheek (except from Carol who does it despite the awkwardness she laughs through). You knew it was something he just wasn’t used to. Or even maybe never had.  It was only four words but it meant more to Darly than he could even say in a lifetime. 

And if you ever told anyone that he was the one that made the first move and kissed you at the top of the prison tower. He will lie until he’s blue in the face and say he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. 

After that you became more affectionate with each other. More touchy than before. Not touchy like Glenn and Maggie. Kissing each other goodbye when the other would go on a run or a quick kiss good morning. Or hugging after a run gone bad and they almost lost the other. Public display of affection to his partner, to you, is something Daryl could never really get on with. 

But what the two of you had was a quiet love. A word Daryl still had a hard time saying and rarely ever said but knew deep in his heart that he felt it whenever he looked at you. 

It was a quiet love filled with small glances and innocent touches. His hand against the small of your back or a quick tap on your arm or thigh. Your small smile to greet him and the nods that greets you.  Holding his hand underneath the table. Feeling his calloused thumb rub against your hand once or twice. Checking on eachother during the other’s watch shift. Him adding some of his food on your plate as he walks past you. You giving him a snack of whatever random thing you have on hand in the evening. Placing your head on his shoulder very briefly when there's not many people around. A mutual meaning of a hug when it's late at night and you won’t see him for a while.   

It was a silent bond the others knew about by name(ish) and feeling  but not as much by action. Those actions were yours and yours alone. And you both preferred it that way. 

Tender kisses and tight hugs. Soft caresses on the cheek and tracing fingers across bare chests. Whispered stories of childhood that turn into bedtime stories throughout the night. Expressing moments of doubt, fear or anger. Tears that would fall on your face and the feeling of his lips pressed against the top of your head.  

Even in moments when you were sleeping next to him. Your head on top of his chest or his arm curled around your stomach. Daryl would feel your wrist, his thumb against your pulse to make sure it's still beating. Or hold as still as he can like he’s tracking a buck in the forest to feel the up and down of your body to ensure you’re breathing. 

You became a big part of his life. This group (his family)  became a big part of his life. Who knew that it would only take the end of the world for him to feel something more than just anger for the first time in his entire life.  

Daryl wasn’t an affectionate person. But he learned how to be. For the good of the group, for himself and for you. 

dividers by @saradika

[mahgyu]

JJK Men: Dreaming about you after your death

· — Even months later after your tragic death by a cursed spirit, they still dream of that terrible day.

๑ Featuring: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Choso Kamo, Toji Fushiguro and Ryomen Sukuna.

๑ Content: Fem!Reader, established relationship, angst, A LOT of angst (*evil laugh*), mention of panic crisis (Choso)

๑ a/n: I enjoyed writing this so much, even though it was really sad. Ah, unlike the others, Sukuna didn't have a dream but rather flashbacks, you will understand when you read.

⸺ㅤGOJO

Gojo woke up startled, trying to grasp something that was no longer there. He barely noticed he was already crying when he woke up, the eyes you used to love and appreciate were now crying for your absence. That man who once laughed and smiled genuinely by your side had once again lost the reason to laugh and smile truly. Gojo sincerely couldn't bear to maintain that facade of a strong sorcerer, physically and mentally. He was tired, he was alone. He promised, he promised to protect you, but he failed. Now he promises that, one day, he will find you again, but for now he would just embrace the clothes you used to wear to feel your scent while he cries. Unfortunately, those clothes were already losing your scent.

⸺ㅤGETO

Geto absolutely refused to accept what had happened. He convinced himself that you would suddenly walk through the door with that smile he loves so much. He would wait however long it took for that to happen, but deep down, he knew it would never come true. That's why Geto woke up already staring directly at the door. In the dream, you walked through that door smiling, just as he had been imagining lately. It seemed so real that he could swear he smelled your scent. But the scent didn't actually come from you; it came from the stuffed animal you cherished, which Geto now slept beside every night to catch a glimpse of you being with him.

⸺ㅤNANAMI

Nanami had just returned from work. Sitting on the couch, he ended up dozing off and had that same repetitive dream about you. The day he proposed to you was certainly one of the most memorable days in Nanami's life. But that dream always ends with that cursed spirit sneaking up from behind and dragging you away from Nanami. Kento always screams and tries to run towards you, but for some reason, he never moves from his spot. Nanami opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before sighing. He glanced down at his own hand, where he still wore the engagement ring on his finger. He wouldn't dare take it off for anything, even though you're no longer physically there with him, even if the image of you looking beautiful in a white dress is now nothing more than a dream never realized.

⸺ㅤCHOSO

Choso woke up totally bewildered, panting, and in a panic. He sat on the bed while looking around, processing where he was and searching for you, but found nothing, nothing but a photo of you next to the bed. Choso couldn't take it anymore, couldn't bear to have so many panic attacks for not being able to save you that day, he wasn't there to protect you as he had promised. He failed you, and it tore him apart. He hated having to deal with these daily crises; Choso knew it was exhausting to help him in these moments, he hated worrying others. But the moment he promised to avenge you, he would fulfill it, even if it cost him his own life.

⸺ㅤTOJI

Toji woke up slowly, taking a moment to fully open his eyes due to the brightness and gradually realizing that everything he had witnessed was just a dream. In this dream, he saw you humming softly a song he already knew entirely because of you, but before he could touch you, he woke up. Toji realized he wasn't in the place he used to call home, it wasn't a home without you. He was in another one of the places he rented to spend the night. Going back to that house no longer made sense without you to welcome him with your sweet kisses and bright smile. Toji completely lost his way, delving back into the bad paths you fought so hard to steer him away from, but you were no longer there to stop him. He no longer cared about himself.

⸺ㅤSUKUNA

Sukuna closed his eyes for a few minutes when he had the vision of your face in your last moments of life, the life he himself made a point of taking, just as he had promised from the moment he first found you. For some reason, the image of your face wouldn't leave his mind anymore, and he hated it. He hated how you looked at him so tired and exhausted from everything, just accepting what was to come, how you seemed so vulnerable and fragile. No, that wasn't right. Sukuna opened his eyes as he clenched his fists, digging his nails into the palm of his hand, while frustration flowed from within him. He should have been satisfied for having fulfilled what he promised, but no, he was dissatisfied, frustrated, and didn't know if it was because you didn't even try to fight him and just accepted your end, or if it was because he had really ended you. It made no sense to him, but still, it ate away at him.

Thanks for reading, I hope you liked my first work here 🩶

ㅤㅤㅤ

[talaok]

Love your writing! Could we please do a cute pregnant reader x Pedro going to and at the SAG awards in honour of our boy winning! 🤍🙏🏼

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x pregnant!reader

a/n: this is how i found out he won btw. I'm so happy for him i cant even, I just love that fucking guy gosh ahhhh (as always this request skipped the line bc it wouldnt make sense in a month)

Gif credits: @tessas-thompson

"thank you" you told him as he emerged from underneath your bump after having slipped your shoes on for you.

Turns out that when you're 7 months and a half pregnant, the most basic tasks like putting on shoes become a two person job.

He only smiled, kissing your belly and then your lips before standing up, offering you a hand to do the same.

"Heels would have looked much better with this dress" you pouted, studying yourself in the mirror, 

You hated ballerinas, but again, you weren't really in the condition to wear anything else.

"You look stunning sugar" he promised, kissing the crown of your head

You couldn't help but snort.

As much as he told you so over and over, together with everyone else in your life... you still struggled to see it, especially now in this uncomfortable dress.

"I look like a stuffed turkey" you sighed "and my boobs are so much bigger than when I first tried this dress, now they look a move away from spilling out"

His eyes twinkled with kindness, with love as he placed his hands on your waist and turned you towards him, away from your reflection.

"You're beautiful sweetheart" he promised, one hand now stroking your cheek as your own hands went to his waist "You're sexy and gorgeous and so fucking hot that if Coco wasn't still here I would demonstrate just how much right here right now" he growled, not giving you time to answer before he kissed you, soft at first, and then once you whimpered, it was like a switch turned and he was fiery and passionate and his left hand trailed to your ass and-

"Pedro!" you scolded him quietly, eyeing Coco on the other side of the room.

"she's seen worse"

She had.

Nonetheless, he took a step back, returning his hand to your waist.

"Thank you" you murmured, looking up into his hazel eyes "and by they way, you look very beautiful too"

You could have sworn you saw red staining his cheeks 

"thank you baby"

You adjusted his shirt, as you got lost in your own mind.

There he was, you beautiful, talented, Emmy, golden globe and SAG award nominated husband, looking every bit as perfect as ever.

And just like that, tears pooled in your eyes

"what's wrong?" he asked, worried

"I just-" you sniffled, trying to fight the tears as your lips trembled "I-I'm so proud of you"

"aw sweetheart" he cooed, half laughing as he wrapped you into his arms.

He'd gotten used to it now, taking care of your over-emotional self was part of his daily routine.

"Y-you just" you cried "you worked so hard a-" another quiet sob "and n- now you're finally getting the recognition you deserve I-"

"I know baby, I know" he cooed, softly kissing the top of your head "thank you" he smiled, his fingers drawing soothing circles on your back "It means a lot to me too,"

"I love you" you murmured, finally raising your head to look at him

"I love you too honey" he kissed you, laughing softly as he pulled back to see tears still running down your cheeks "You're gonna cry the whole night, aren't you?"

"I made the makeup artist use only waterproof products" was your way of saying yes, yes I'm going to, and yes I've already planned ahead

He chuckled, kissing your forehead as his hands trailed to your bump, soft kicks hitting his palms.

"She's excited" he murmured

"She's proud of her daddy too" 

__ __ __

Pedro Pascal.

Pedro Pascal.

Pedro P-

Your husband. they had called your husband.

It was probably comical from the outside, seeing the shock on both your faces as you stared blankly at each other, the way your mouth gaped open, while he slapped a hand onto his, it was like- it was like time had stopped, and the word went completely quiet, until- until-

"oh my god" you breathed, throwing your arms around him and hugging him so tight it probably hurt

He didn't dare speak a word as you leaned away, landing a kiss on his mouth as you gripped his face 

"go" you laughed, grinning like an idiot as tears glimmered into your eyes "go" you urged again, this time, having him comply.

You watched every step, every move, until he was right in front of the microphone, his award in his hands.

"This is umh" he mumbled "This is wrong for a number of reasons-" 

he was in shock, his voice trembling, his eyes watery, but he kept going

"b-but thank you hbo, Bella Ramsey, Craig Mazin, Neil Drukman, Frannie, and -" A shaky sigh fled his mouth, as he chuckled to himself "jeez louise I'm making a fool of myself and my wife is gonna make so much fun of me for it and-"

All the sudden his eyes were on you, 

"my wife" he smiled, his smile brighter than the sun "I wanna thank my beautiful, amazing, intelligent, and perfect wife" he said "I love you y/n, I love you and our daughter more than anything in this world and if I'm here today- If I'm here today is mostly because of you" 

You were shaking from how hard you were crying, from how happy, ecstatic, and euphoric you were for him.

"You've made me the happiest man on this earth, you've made me a dad, you- you're my everything sweetheart" he beamed "so thank you"

He stopped a moment, as if realizing only now this had all really happened

"And now I'm gonna stop talking 'cause I need to get down there to kiss you and try to make you stop crying" he laughed, ending his speech

"thank you, everybody, really, thank you"

__ __ __ 

He did exactly as he said,

he held you tight as he kissed you like the world was gonna end tomorrow, like if he didn't he was gonna die

And when he leaned away- when he leaned away time stopped once again, but as he pressed his forehead to yours, as you lost yourself in each other's eyes, you remembered

"You said it was wrong" you said, both your hands holding his face "but it's not" you shook your head, watching his eyes water "you deserve this baby, you do"

"sweetheart-"

"no" you shut him off, your voice hoarse from the sobs, but it didn't matter, you wanted him to know, you needed him to know "No I need you to understand that you do baby" You smiled "that you worked your ass off and that you deserve every single inch of this award" you took a deep breath, steadying your voice as you looked at him, so many unspoken words traveling between you

"ok?" you asked, finally

"ok" he beamed, kissing you again "God I love you so much"

[cultven]

hii i love reading yor fics sososo much T_T<333

I'd like to request a fic where Logan dreams that he hurts the reader, almost killing them. The reader notices that he's having a nightmare and wakes him up, he's disoriented and in panic, but when he realized what just happened he is incredibly relieved to see that reader is ok and alive. Maybe he even breaks down and cries, which really shocks the reader cuz they arent used to seeing Logan like this 🥺 Then the reader comforts him and takes care of him until he's back asleep.

As It Should Be

Wolverine X Reader

Content: Comfort, crying, poor Logan cannot catch a break, but you're there to dig him out of his sadness hole, he loves you a lot, lots of fluff while comforting him

Word Count: 1.39k

Warnings: Some graphic violence during the nightmare segment

a/n: Thank you for the kind words! This one honestly got a little graphic in terms of gore, but nothing too bad, so hopefully that’s ok! This was fun to write, enjoy!

No. What had he done? 

Logan stood in a pile of debris and rubble, his white tank top and jeans now caked in blood that wasn’t his. Claws refusing to retract, Logan felt utterly hopeless against his own body. His actions weren’t his own as he trudged towards the only person left alive; you. You were scared, that much was clear by your facial expression and hasty movements to crawl backward away from the mutant. 

“Logan… this isn’t you, please.” You plead, eyes darting around the scene to find help, anyone that is still alive or conscious. All you could take in was the decimated mansion and the mauled corpses of your loved ones. What had taken over Logan? Why did he destroy the very things he risked his life for countless times? 

As Logan looked into your frightened eyes his heart clenched, knowing what was coming next. He just wishes he could stop it. Watching himself tear through his other family hurt like hell, but having to watch you die he didn’t think he could bear it. You were his entire world, the only thing that could ground him when he fell down the pits of self-destruction. He would forever kill himself before harming you. But this version of himself had other plans. 

He trudged over, claws glistening in the light of fire around them. “No, no no no…” You chant, still trying to escape the man but your legs are rendered useless due to your paralyzing fear. With one swift movement, Logan begins to tear through flesh and muscle, watching in horror as his hands mutilate his love against his will. You could do nothing but lay there, screaming in pain, your mutant ability keeping you alive for longer than you wanted to be. Logan wished he was the one being gutted. In a way, he was. Anyone else, anyone but you deserved his wrath. 

Tears clung tightly to his eyes as his hand retracted from your body, lining up for the final shot to the head. As the blade commences its soar towards your skull, Logan jolts up from a lying position and hastily takes in his surroundings. It was dark, he was under a blanket of sorts, and oh, he was in your bedroom. Had it only been a nightmare? No, it was far too cruel and realistic to have been. Even Logan’s mind wasn’t so callous to make him live through such a horror. So then, it must have been real? Logan begins to hyperventilate, raising his hands to eye level. His claws were away, and his rough skin was clean of blood. But, as he blinked, grotesque images flashed through his mind. Sick crimson blood, your blood, begins to stain his hands, drying in a disgusting reddish-brown. He immediately jumped out of bed, went into the ensuite bathroom, and scrubbed his hands raw. 

“No, no no no.” He chanted under his breath as he tried to scrape off the non-existent material. The cold water was not enough to ground him back to reality, Logan eventually gave up and put him back to the skin, sliding down towards the floor to cradle his head in his hands. Thanks to the sound of the water running in the bathroom and Logan’s hard footsteps, you eventually stir awake. At first, nothing seemed wrong, maybe he just had to use the bathroom. But after the sound of continuous water for five minutes you grew increasingly concerned. Deciding to confront the man you carefully walk up to the bathroom door and gently knock three times, not to startle him during whatever he’s doing. 

“Lo?” It was only one syllable, but your sweet voice saying his nickname out loud was enough to send Logan scrambling. The door eagerly burst open, and when it did the sight you were met with shocked your heart. There was Logan on the ground, clearly disheveled, eyes bloodshot and teary. “Oh baby, what happened?” You coo, going to take a step forward but immediately retreating seeing Logan flinch. 

“You’re- you’re real, right?” Logan tentatively asks, sounding scared. Of course, you were real, why wouldn’t you be?” 

“Yes, love.” You stay put in your place. You didn’t want to upset him further.

“No… I ripped you apart. You died by my hands.” You resist the urge to outwardly exclaim how ridiculous he sounded before realizing he more than likely had a nightmare. Logan was prone to bad dreams, but none ever shook him quite as much as this. The only good thing that came out of the consistent night terrors was that you now knew how to soothe him in times like these. 

“I’m right here my love. I’m not hurt. See? I’m perfectly okay.” Your voice stays calm and soothing, not wanting to startle him further. “Touch my hand. Feel my skin. I am right here.” Usually, the sensation of touch grounded him from this distressed state, but this time he seemed hesitant to even look in your direction. 

“I can’t. I might hurt you again.” Logan looked so small and it broke you. He was huddled into himself, still looking at you untrusting. The thought of himself harming you any further plagued his mind, twisting his stomach and making him want to vomit. You were his world, his everything. He curses his body for the immortality that was bestowed upon him because if anything happens to you he wants to follow right behind. 

Realizing you may seem intimidating due to the fact you’re standing tall over his curled-up body you lower yourself and sit criss-cross applesauce across from him. Putting your hand out in between your two bodies you silently sit there, waiting for Logan to take this at his own pace. After a few minutes, Logan seems calm enough to touch your hand. Fingertips only brush at first, then a loose handhold, then a firm grasp on each other. Before either of you knew it you were fully embracing, Logan nuzzling his head into your neck. He needed to take you in every sense, to prove this was real. His nose took in your intoxicating perfume, his hands gripped your curves, his ears heard your soft breaths release from your mouth, and when he pulled back his eyes took in the sight of you. You were as stunning as always even with your messy hair and tired eyes. You were real, you were here, and you were his. 

Seeing as your boyfriend has calmed down you decided to relocate to a more comfortable area. “Let’s get off this gross floor, okay love? Let’s go to bed.” You whisper, carefully tugging him along to your shared bed. Once you two got settled down you were instantly back in his strong arms, protecting you from the rest of the world. You thought all was said and done for the night until Logan spoke up. 

“You were so scared. I made you scared.” He hated seeing you that way. It hurt him. What hurt worse was that he was the cause of it. He now understands it wasn’t real, but your expression was so gut-wrenching he couldn’t shake it off. 

“Logan I know you would never hurt me on purpose.” You reassured him. “Except maybe when you squeeze me to death with your bear hugs.” Logan chuckled a little bit, your humor always lightens the mood. You lay in silence for a bit, almost dozing off until you hear a voice next to you. 

“Thank you for dealing with me.” You smile, leaning over and kissing the man gingerly on the cheek. 

“It’s what I signed up for my love. Besides, you could never be a bother to me.” He smiles back, a rare sight to anyone but yourself. “I love you, Logan.”

“I love you too.” With that resignation you two cuddle, arms and legs entangled with one another’s. Eventually, Logan is lulled back to sleep while listening to the steady beat of your heart. Instead of another nightmare, he is met with a blissful dream of the two of you living together on a mountain, away from all the violence and harm the world holds. Just as it should be. 

[lissdiary]

katsuki comforting his pro!hero gf when she kinda fails her mission because she didn't get to save the people but defeated the villain? love your writing btw, wouldn't have guessed you were new if i hadn't read your profile!

katsuki sat on your shared couch, watching the news on your recent mission. the headlines were tragic, you had done what you could in order to protect the civilians but the damage was greater than you could handle. luckily, you managed the capture the villain but you just couldn’t shake off how many lives were lost.

he looked towards the apartment door, he heard your keys jingle trying to open the door. as you walked in, he started walking towards you. the soft expression on his face was enough to make you cry, he knew how much stuff like this hurt you. “katsuki.. i couldn’t-“ you dropped everything in your hands, tears swelling in your eyes. “i couldn’t save them ..” the lump in your throat began to hurt more and more, katsuki caught you before you fell to the ground.

“shh.. it’s okay baby” you couldn’t do anything but cry, he held you in his arms as you cried. your tears staining his black t-shirt, you were frustrated with yourself. “it’s, it’s not kats.. the people, they-“ he caressed your head, fixing your hair after it had gotten messy. you couldn’t even form the right words, it was difficult and traumatic.

“hey, look at me.” he cupped your face in his hands, picking your head up to look at him. your tears continued to flow down your cheeks, sniffling as you looked at him. he knew you tried your best, he knew you did what you could. “look, you did what ya’ could alright. who cares about what some shitty reporters say about ya’?” he wiped your tears with his thumbs, kissing your temple before resting his head against yours.

he wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to cry in his arms.“what matters is that you’re safe and you did your best throughout the entire mission, you ensured the safety of the people.” you both sat on the floor for the next hour, realizing it was late and time to sleep. although katsuki has an early bedtime, he stayed up until you were asleep. he knew you’d have trouble sleeping due to what had happened, and he would’ve rather died than let you stay up alone with your thoughts.

it broke katsuki’s heart to see you lay in bed the next morning. you laid there, puffy eyes with no light in them, dried tears stains down your cheeks, there was no light in your body whatsoever. katsuki made sure to call off work, he knew you needed him by your side and he made sure to stay there for as long as you needed him.

he made you a light hearted breakfast, just enough for you to eat. he knew you would wake up with no appetite but you needed to eat. a simple breakfast that consisted of pancakes, fruit, and coffee made just the way you liked. he served you breakfast in bed, plopping beside you so he can feed you. “you’re okay baby, nobody blames ya’ alright?” you nodded, allowing him to feed you another bite.

if it wasn’t for katsuki, you don’t know how you would’ve managed to cope with the trauma. he kissed your cheek when you managed to finish the plate he made you. “thank you baby, feelin’ a little better now?” he put the plate on your nightstand, pulling you close to him. you laid by his side, your head on his shoulder. “mhm, thank you kats..” you cuddled up closer to him, his warmth comforting you.

“yer’ welcome baby, just glad yer’ back home safely.”

tysm for requesting! it truly means a lot knowing you love my work!! (*≧∀≦*)

[ervotica]

the ones we love (will destroy us)

pairing; aegon ii targaryen x fem!targaryen!reader

tags; twincest (lol i'm sorry yk what the targaryens are like), aegon is so sad and babygirl and an idiot, hurt/comfort

note; heavily reworked repost of an old fic that i adored writing but needed a lot of editing! (i still lowkey hate it tho)

“Why is Aegon staring at you?” Aemond asks, a cruel smirk cracking his perpetually stoic facade; the's mocking in the way his gaze falls between you and Aegon, not entirely genuine as he takes amusement in his older brother’s miserable pining. Aegon watches your discussion with Aemond, sour faced from across the dining table. You’ve taken it upon yourself to sit as far away from him as you can manage; and where you’re usually attached at the hip - though he knows you’re arguing - he can’t deny the ache in his chest from your lack of acknowledgement. You're cold, unflinching as you stare right through him as though he's irrelevant, as though he's worth nothing to you.

“Because he’s a twat,” you answer bluntly. Aemond barks out a short laugh, coarse and harsh, that penetrates the quiet chatter of the room. Heads start to turn towards your avid conversing with your younger brother.

“What are you two bickering about now?”

“If he thinks it’s funny to to speak ill of me to everyone in the seven fucking kingdoms, I don't want anything to do with him.” Your lips purse as you cross your arms; Alicent eyes you, watching the tick of your jaw and flare of your nostrils - you’re upset, even if you’re excellent at masking it. 

Aemond watches on amusedly as your twin grows increasingly agitated the more you pointedly avoid his glances. Your mother frowns.

“Y/n, don’t you feel you’re perhaps being a little hard on Aegon?” 

“No.”

“He's your twin brother!” she sighs, ever frustrated by your stubbornness and your twin’s lack of consideration for anybody’s feelings, even yours at times.

“He’s still a twat.”

Aegon huffs and rolls his eyes. 

You continue to only speak about him indirectly. When you turn to Jace, he grins.

“Jace,” you start, clasping your hands where they lay on the dining table in front of you, “If someone said that you were ‘an ugly whore with no friends’ - as he so eloquently put it - would you be upset?”

“He said that?” Jace's jaw falls slack. “Wait, no. He honestly said that about you?”

The table clatters, cutlery bouncing, and Aegon stands abruptly, face screwed up in that way it does when he’s about to cry.

“It wasn’t like that!”

“How else could you possibly have meant it?” You’re incredulous, covering your misery with spiteful words. You want to make him hurt, make him feel your pain, but run to him for comfort all at once.

“Not-”

“Gods, just be quiet,” you mutter. Your face is hot as you turn away and you feel your eyes prickling with the threat of an onslaught of tears. Aegon cringes, drawn tight and tense as though you share one body, as though he can feel the pain he’s putting you through. Your upset has always caused him real physical distress, from when you were tiny children and still to this day. Your voice lowers to a whisper. “You’re so mean.”

“Y/n-“

You’ve never seen him quite this distressed; his cheeks flush pink and ruddy and his eyes start to water and gloss over, not dissimilar to your own expression - though you’re much better at concealing your emotions. His nostrils flare the way they only do when he cries: the way they did when he sobbed in your arms for hours after your mother rejected his pleas for affection once again, the way he cried when you were ten years old and your father interrupted him every time he tried to speak. Your bottom lip trembles. 

“Please,” he croaks. Your brows knit and crease your forehead as your chest tightens; you bite the inside of your cheek with such force that you draw blood. 

You stand and the solid wooden dining chair thumps against the floor. Aegon mirrors your movements, rushing towards the exit in your wake.

Once you’ve left the presence of your family, the tears come hard and fast and unrelenting. They’re hot against your cheeks, damp as your hands shake to scrub them away, leaving only a tender sting and blooming heat in your touch’s wake.

“Please talk to me.” The door creaks shut and then Aegon’s voice cuts through the sounds of your sniffles; you spin on your heel and he surges towards you in a bout of energy, clasping one of your hands in both of his larger ones. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that about you, it was mean. And you should be angry with me. I miss you and I love you and I'll never, ever speak a cruel word against you again.”

“Did you mean it?” you ask; he lurches to latch himself to your body, anxious as though you’ll push him away at any given moment. His arms are tight and unmoving around your waist.

“No.” He shakes his head vehemently, “I don't know why I said it. I just wanted the others to respect me but shouldn’t have said such awful things. The only person I need is you.”

“What?”

“I don’t care about any of that now. None of it matters to me if you’re not by my side.” 

His body shudders when your arms close and tighten around his body and a sob looses from his throat. Your voice is thick as you murmur in his ear. 

“You hurt my feelings.” 

His head falls to the dip of your shoulder and he clings to you with a strength that you’re not unfamiliar with; it cracks your heart all the same.

“Please forgive me, sweetling. Please.” The velvet of your dress darkens in splotches where his tears fall. “I love you.”

You know he really is remorseful; the guilt eats at him until he can’t feel anything else, not until you’ve reconciled. He's always been the same, ever since you were six and he hit you in the face; you didn’t speak to him for four days and he cried with such vigour that he made himself sick.

“I love you,” you can’t help but whisper back. “But if you ever do something like that again, I won’t be so forgiving.”

He laughs wetly, an odd sound that gets caught in his chest as he presses further into your embrace. 

“Can I have a kiss?”

You hook a finger under his chin and tilt his damp face towards your own. His lips fill with air and push out into a pout. 

His muscles go soft and relax the second your lips mesh with his; your fingers tangle in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. He angles his head and deepens the kiss, licks into your mouth and murmurs something imperceptible. When you pull yourself away, he chases you, desperate to be close. 

“Love you,” he mumbles, plying you with damp, open mouthed kisses across your cheeks and neck. They leave glistening half moons in his wake. “I‘m so sorry.”

“I know,” you say, tucking your head in the hollow of his throat. “I forgive you, alright?”

A laboured breath forces its way out of his lungs when your arm wraps around his neck for a hug.

“I didn't like you sitting next to Aemond,” he sighs. You shush him, rubbing thumbs over his eyebrows and down his cheeks in unbridled affection. “I want you to sit next to me.”

“I always sit next to you,” you murmur. “I was upset, remember?”

“I know,” he whines. “but you’re mine.”

“Don’t be a baby,” you giggle. “I spend all of my time with you.”

He squeezes you tight then and buries his face in your hair. You grunt with the force of his weight.

“I missed you.”

[rafesaddiction]

It's still not cheating when he's your best friend – Rafe Cameron x Reader (Part 2)

See here for part 1

Summary: You're excited to see your favorite band live. But a fight with your boyfriend threatens to cancel the trip, until someone you don’t expect to see, saves the day: your best friend Rafe Cameron.

Concept: best friend, only nice to her

Warnings: mdni! – smut, fingering, public, (kinda) dubcon, cheating (reader cheats on boyfriend), hints at a toxic relationship, name calling (reader is called slut), protective!rafe

Word count: 3.1k

a/n The past weeks have been really hard for me due to health issues. But I've finally been able to write again. I had fun writing this and I hope you won’t be disappointed reading it. Please let me know your thoughts.

Taglist @dream-pink @dope-trope-105 @rafeinterlude @baby19sthings @yootvi @aaronhotchswife @lilo7sworld

He almost ruined it. For months, you had been looking forward to seeing one of your favorite bands at the beach festival. The day before the concert, your boyfriend told you he didn't want to go and he didn't want you to go either. You had a fight that started over something stupid and ended with him accusing you that you just wanted to go to the festival so you could run around naked and fool around with guys, like the slut you were. You cried when he stormed out and shut your dorm room’s door with a bang. You cried all night.

Your boyfriend was supposed to be the driver. And now on top of all the personal pain you were feeling, you had to explain to your friends that you no longer had a ride to the festival. Neither you nor one of your friends owned a car. You tried to get your parents' car, but they needed it themselves. In the group chat you discussed all kinds of possibilities, until one of your friends wrote that he had organized a car. Everyone cheered at that, and even you, despite of all those tears that kept running down your face, were relieved that you and your friends could make the trip. You not only wanted to see the band play, more important to you was to get out with your friend and forget about the argument you and your boyfriend had.

Your friend also mentioned that the car's owner would join us to the festival, to which everyone naturally agreed and was excited. You even promised to bake cookies for the mysterious hero.

But you didn’t expect it to be him. You could have guessed because that friend also went to high school with you and they had been friends then. Still, it was kind of a shock and you froze when you saw a familiar car on the parking lot next to the dorms. The Cameron family SUV.

You hadn't talked to him since that one night. That one night that should have never happened. That one night that had been the best night of your life. That one night when you had had the best sex of your life with your best friend, Rafe Cameron.

Rafe wasn't much of a texter, but he had texted you. You had written six different replies and never sent one. You had wanted to write him or call him several times. Like last night when your boyfriend had made you cry again. Suddenly you were very aware of how you must look. Your eyes all puffy from the crying.

Rafe was at the back of the car, loading bags into the trunk with the friend who had invited him to this trip.

He hadn't seen you yet, his back was turned towards you, and you were glad about it, because you didn't know what to say, didn't know how to feel. So you were more than relieved when one of your friends arrived shortly after you, pulled you in a hug and decided that you two could already get into the car which was much cooler than standing around in the burning sun, while you could leave it to the guys to load your stuff into the car.

You sat in the middle of the backseat, your friend to your right. She started chatting right away and you felt somewhat relieved that she didn't comment on your boyfriend's absence nor your puffy eyes. Shortly after, the rest of your group arrived, you were six altogether, and luckily the SUV was really comfortable – more comfortable than your boyfriend's old minivan.

Rafe got into the driver's seat, and for a moment, he looked at you through the rearview mirror, before you turned your attention to your friend, as you felt your heart skipping a beat at that moment. You were unsure whether you saw a smile flash over his face, and you didn't dare to look again to check, afraid your face might reveal too much of your inner turmoil.

Though the drive took several hours, time flew by quickly. You had been right. It was good being with your friends and having fun. Everyone was in a good mood, the music was good, there was lively chatting and laughter, there was drinking and snacking, and even stupid car games were played. You might have been a little quieter than usual, but no one seemed to notice – no one except Rafe, who again and again looked at you through the mirror, but never directly spoke to you.

The parking lot of the festival site was already quite full, but Rafe managed to find a good spot for the car. When you got out of the car, you stretched your arms and felt the sun on your skin. It was a very hot day and the car had been nicely air-conditioned. Since it was so hot and the festival was on the beach anyway, your friends and you decided to just wear your bathing suits. You got out of your jeans shorts and shirt, as you were wearing your bikini underneath. You saw Rafe take off his shirt, and one of your guy friends commented that he should put it back on as it would make them all look like total wimps compared to him. There was laughter and Rafe smirked as he casually flexed his chest muscles. It was true. Rafe did look fitter than most guys. It wasn't too much muscles, but he was big and looked strong. Sometimes you thought he looked too good to be real, like a statue of some Greek god… Rafe had caught you staring at him and you quickly averted your gaze, feeling heat crawling to your face.

Since everyone was hungry, your friends and you decided to get some pizza and drinks, and after that more drinks. Everyone was relaxed and had a good time. You smiled a lot – except when you looked at your phone and saw the notifications. Your boyfriend had sent you several texts and voice mails. You didn't open them, you had already seen in the preview window what those texts were about. Obviously he hadn't calmed down. If anything he was even more angry, even more hurtful in his messages.

When looking at the phone, you also saw the time. The band you wanted to see was about to play soon. You asked your friends to go with you closer to the stage, but no one really wanted to move. They said you could hear the music perfectly well from their current spot, besides the booze was here. To that everyone cheered and raised their cups. Everyone but Rafe.

“I’ll go with you.”

“You don't have to. You can stay here, enjoy yourself. I'll just go on my own.”

“Quit that bullshit,” he said and came closer, he had put his cup away. “I'm going with you. So you won't get lost in the crowd. Besides, I know how much you want to see your third favorite band live.”

“You remember,” you gazed up at him, who stood now directly in front of you. You had to shield your eyes since the sun was shining so brightly, but you could definitely see a smile on his lips.

“Of course, I remember,” he said in a low voice, almost whispering and you couldn't help it, you gasped for air.

The smile on his lips turned into a smirk as he continued, “How could I ever forget you dancing to that one song for like all of junior year, hm? You're gonna do that dance again? Wouldn't wanna miss that.”

And he started moving his hips and his arms in a weird clumsy rhythm, imitating what was supposed to be you dancing. It looked ridiculous and you had to laugh.

You punched his shoulder. “Stop that. That's not how I dance.”

He kept on moving in that awkward way and you tried hard to stop laughing – suddenly feeling lighter and more relaxed than you had in weeks – since that night.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest and pushed out your lips, pouting, but couldn't fight the giggles, as Rafe tried some elaborate pirouette which caused him to stumble, but he stopped, directly in front of you. All of a sudden he was calm and there was something so soft in his features which you knew he rarely ever showed anyone.

“Let's go,” it was almost a whisper, then he added in a louder voice. “We don't want to miss that song and that dance.”

You punched his chest, your hand almost hurting as it hit the hard muscle – and felt his hot skin. But you let him take your hand and lead you from the group of your friends who were engrossed in some conversation of their own. His strong hand holding yours felt good, it felt right. Rafe was your best friend. He was the one you trusted most, he was the one who made you laugh, no matter what.

Rafe walked towards the stage and tugged you along with him. When there were more and more people around, he pulled you close to his body. Still holding one of your hands, his palm touched your back as he walked behind you, keeping you very close. He made sure you didn't get lost in the crowd. His body shielded you from anyone bumping into you or spilling their drinks on you.

The place got more and more crowded and he had to slow down. You turned your head to look at him.

“This is okay,” you said.

Rafe frowned as he looked at you. “No, it's not. We're going to the front row.”

“No, Rafe, this is totally okay. I can see enough from here.”

His frown deepened. “No, you can't. You're too tiny.”

At that comment you frowned. “I’m not tiny. You're just a giant,” you said and wanted to punch him with your free hand, but you didn't have enough space to move your arm, so you just ended up placing your palm on his chest. Feeling his hard muscle, feeling his hot skin, and his heart beating. He placed his hand on yours and your breathing hitched.

Rafe held you even tighter to his body as he proceeded to walk to the stage. His strong arms held you, protected you. And despite all these people around you, you only felt him, his presence, his closeness, all around you. Your skin tingled where it touched his, and that tingling grew stronger and became something else. Something that went so much deeper. And you felt a too familiar pulsing in your core.

Some people complained and pushed and shoved, but one look at Rafe’s face and stature and they made room for you and him. He really managed to secure a spot in the front row for you, right in the middle and you got the perfect view of the stage, standing directly behind the first barrier. Only a few feet of empty space separated you from the stage. Rafe was standing directly behind you, his hands to both sides of you, resting on the rail, his arms caging you in – shielding you.

You wanted to turn and thank him, but in that moment the band entered the stage and started playing their first song. You were captivated by their performance and the great atmosphere their music created. There was cheering, singing, dancing all around you. People were pushing and shoving, but you only felt a fraction of that as Rafe's body pressed closer to yours. He was shielding you from all the crowd's wilder movements, while you could enjoy being part of this experience safely.

You even danced a bit, your back rubbing against Rafe's front. When you craned your neck to look back at him, you saw him grin. And you felt a grin on your own face.

The set list was great too. They played all your favorite songs and the lead singer managed to put some kind of spell on the audience when they played a couple of slower songs. Or that spell was just on you, and not caused by the singer, but by something or someone else.

You leaned back a little, your head resting against Rafe's broad chest, feeling his heart beat. You closed your eyes and your hips swayed to the slow rhythm of the song. Your skin touched his skin. And you didn't mind the thin film of sweat covering his body from the heat of the bright sun and the crowded place. You smelled his scent so intensely, it made you almost forget where you were. It just made you feel.

Your eyes opened, your upper body leaned forward, resting your arms on the barrier. You watched the singer putting all his emotions into each and every note. Goosebumps crawled over your skin. But it wasn't from the singer's raspy voice. Rafe's hand touched your hip. Your back arched a little as your butt was pushed back. You gasped. Rafe's hand rubbed over your butt cheek, you felt the rough palm, the long fingers, the cool metal of his ring on your skin. The touch was light, too light, too gentle, too soft. Your mouth opened, but all sounds were drowned by the music and the noise of the people.

His fingertips, just his fingertips, tenderly touched the back of your thigh, moved to the inside of your leg. They moved up and one finger rubbed over the fabric of your bikini bottoms. It was like scratching and you flinched, but that didn't make him withdraw his hand. Instead, the finger pushed harder, pushed to part your folds, pushed to tease you, while the layer of clothes still was between you and his digit.

You felt heat rushing through your body, neither caused by the sun nor by the heat of the people moving around you. You did not perceive any of them. You just felt him, while your eyes were directed at the band on stage performing their emotional song.

Rafe’s finger moved along your slit with pressure. Through your bikini panties his fingertip was able to find your most sensitive spot at once and he began teasing it mercilessly. No one heard it, but you were sure, Rafe felt that you were moaning. You felt a growing need that threatened to take over all your senses. As if he knew that, felt that, perceived that, Rafe pushed the fabric aside – tantalizingly slow. And his fingers found you wet and yearning for his touch. A mewling sound escaped your lips as a finger pushed inside you. You felt your walls clench around the digit. And you felt Rafe tense behind you and you were sure you heard a groan.

The song had changed, you only now realized, its rhythm was faster, wilder. And so was Rafe's touch. His finger thrust into you, stretching your tightness, pushing deep, making you squirm. Your hands gripping the metal of the barrier for support. Your legs started shaking as Rafe added a second finger and began fucking you with his digits. He curled them inside you and your head went back to your neck as you moaned shamelessly. He pulled his fingers out completely, just to push them into you even deeper. Again and again.

The song grew louder, harder, fiercer – and so did his finger-fucking you. Your body trembled, your voice was hoarse and you were whining now. He pushed you further and further, closer and closer to the edge.

Then, all of a sudden, he leaned over you – maybe he was pushed by the crowd jumping about, maybe he needed to feel you closer too – and you could feel his hardness press against your back. You pressed your eyes shut as your climax hit you, hit you hard. The wave swept you away and carried you to another place, where all you did was feel, feel this, feel him.

His fingers fucked you through your orgasm. He had wrapped his arm around you, was holding you close to his body, and thus was also keeping you from falling, since your legs were shaking and you feared you no longer could trust them to support you.

Slowly he pulled his fingers out. And even though you still felt echoes of your high, this also left a feeling of emptiness inside you. A longing that was always there if he wasn't inside you.

You felt his breath close to your ear and heard him say something, but the music drowned his words. You turned your head, looking at him with hooded eyes and saw him lick his fingers.

The rest of the concert felt like in a haze. Rafe kept his arm around you, holding you close, while you watched the band play but could only listen to his heart beat, as your body was still shivering.

When the show ended, people started moving and Rafe took a step back to give you room to turn around to him.

“Thirsty?” he asked you, and you just nodded, not trusting your voice.

His hand on your back, Rafe guided you through the crowd back to your friends, and you had to admit to yourself that you wouldn't have found them on your own.

Rafe ordered something to drink for you at the nearby bar while you stood with your friends. One of them commented that you were glowing and that you looked totally blissed out. You touched your cheek and felt the heat, and felt that smile on your face. She asked if the show had been that good and you replied that it had been amazing. Your voice was hoarse and she suspected it was from you singing along with the band so loudly all the time. You didn't comment on that, just felt another wave of heat going through your body. As you turned, your eyes met Rafe's. A little smirk on his lips as he put a cup into your hand and took a swig out of his own.

[letorip]

clingy tara carpenter hcs?

clingy tara carpenter

idk why but i’m in a tara mood so this was definitely more fun to write. it’s more like headcanons than my normal ones just because i think it’s interesting to follow and i had lots of ideas but not necessarily following a through-line story like many of them do

you and Tara meet at Blackmore and she is instantly fixated on you. it’s something she tries to hide at first, she’s too used to being something of a cool, aloof girl

you’re friendly, kind, funny, and smart, and it feels weird— like when she’s with you, she’s finally breathing at full capacity. it’s kind of odd at first, that you cut away the facade she constantly puts up. with other people who chase her and flirt with her, it feels like breathing, but when you do it, it catches her off guard, and it makes her stumble, especially the first time

she’s always bugging asking Anika if you’re coming to hang out with them or at a party, and gets a bit disappointed whenever the answer is no. she’ll still go, since Mindy would kill her if she didn’t, but she’s way less excited than before

Tara decides to go the natural route, and see you out in public, but you don’t have the same major so you pretty much never cross paths on campus

she gets increasingly frustrated, going to back to back parties in search of you on a friday night, only to discover that your instagram story says you were actually at the library the entire time

she does the exact same thing the next day, on a saturday night, and ends up going to four parties only to find that you’re once more not even there

after giving up on that she just goes into your dms and musters enough courage after a week to finally send a message asking you to hang out

after you start dating, it’s even worse than tara thought

she needs you so so so bad, this girl is down atrocious

you’re pretty much inseparable after that point, not that tara would ever admit it. she’s not used to needing anyone ever, with sam leaving and her mom being the way she is ever

you go on a trip for a week with your family around the holidays and every night you and Tara fall asleep on the phone together, or you facetime for a while, and she’s counting down the days until you come back

she wants to know everything, and she watches with a small smile when you’re excitedly explaining how the trip is going

she picks you up from the airport with one of those cheesy signs, but she pretty much drops it and rushes into your arms, and she’s crying

she hates crying in public, but she’s missed you so much

she tells you everything about every movie she’s pretty much ever watched, sometimes as a way to help you sleep. you’re not actually completely listening, you just fall asleep better to her voice and movies are a thing she can talk about for a LOOOONG time

she’ll show you her favourites that she’s seen a million times, only instead of watching the movie, she’s watching your face and your expressions.

she tracks your location, but not because she’s suspicious of you. it’s because she’s paranoid that something could happen to you, and that’s the last thing she would want in the universe

if ghostface did ever come back, she’s the first to get you to safety. she’d definitely try the say-something-mean-to-get-you-to-leave tactic, but it wouldn’t work, and you’d just hold her, forehead to forehead while she cries about needing you and needing to keep you safe at the same time

she steals your shirts and your jackets whenever she can. it smells like you and it keeps her warm, and she’ll “accidentally” forget her jacket at home during the winter

she’s definitely a jealous person. she knows that everyone wants you and honestly she can’t blame them, but you’re hers and she wants everyone else to know. when a girl will approach you at the party that Tara brought you to, and she looks a little too comfortable, Tara will grab you by the arm and drag you hastily upstairs to claim her territory, and mark up your neck for proof

she’ll definitely be the type to deny she’s clingy. you’ll joking say “you’re so clingy” when she’s got her arms wrapped around you, and she’ll scoff and get genuinely offended by the insinuation that she needs you and clings to you

then of course she’ll want to cuddle 5 minutes later

thanks, hopefully will be posting again soon

[buckys-wintersoldier]

I only want you | Bucky Barnes

Pairing -> BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x BestFriend!Female!Reader

Summary -> During the party he confesses his feelings for you, he kisses you but the next day he isn’t the same anymore. Your best friend is the biggest idiot you have ever seen and you don’t know why.

Warnings -> Bucky being an idiot, mention of Bucky’s past/trauma, Sharon being a bitch, hurt/comfort, angst, crying, kind of insults, fluff

Wordcount -> 7.1k (it’s long but it’s worth it, I guess)

A/N: I want to thank @mrsbuckybarnes1917 for listening when I came up with that idea as well as supporting me to find the way through all the ideas, and thank you so much for proofreading it, I really appreciate it. I’m sorry when I hurt someone, trust me I cried a lot while I wrote that oneshot but I just needed to write something to calm down my feelings and yeah here we are. I hope you all enjoy it.

Divider made by @firefly-graphics.

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky isn’t really a drinker, especially not since he became the Winter Soldier. He enjoys the taste, but the serum that is constantly running through his veins makes it impossible for him to experience the effects of the alcohol. It isn’t rare that he wishes to get drunk so he can forget all the memories of the things she did during the time with Hydra. It’s like Thor knew exactly about his thoughts because he is waving a flask of Asgardian Ale in front of Bucky, and the brown-haired man decides it is the perfect opportunity to drink his troubles away.

“Buck, you shouldn’t drink too much of that Asgardian Ale,” you mumble while you sit next to your best friend and look at him. You know about his trouble and about his traumatic past, but you also know it’s never an opportunity to drink it away. He has the glass completely full again and smiles at you.

“It’s oke; I can’t get too drunk. I’m the Wiener Soldier,” he says and bursts out laughing. Then he lifts his glass and turns around. "Cheers!" he shouts through the room, even when it’s almost impossible that someone hears it.

The music is way too loud to hear your own words without shouting. So it isn’t surprising when the people in the room don’t hear what Bucky shouts. Except for the two next to him, you and Steve.

“Cheers, pal!" Steve shouts and lifts his glass as well. He smiles at Bucky before he pours the liquid down his throat. You shake your head and turn around. Your back leans against the counter, and you place your forearms on top of the counter, looking at the people dancing in the middle of the room.

“Haven’t felt like that since the 40’s,” Bucky groans, filling his glass again. Then he turns to you and looks straight into your eyes. “I feel like I’m 20 again; it feels better than I thought. Do you always feel like that?” he asks and places his hand on your shoulder, standing up slowly to stand in front of you.

Then he winks at you while he almost falls to the side. You almost burst out laughing when he tries to grab something to not fall.

“Woah, the room is spinning. I didn’t know Tony was able to build something like that,” your best friend says while holding your shoulders so he won’t fall down.

You look at him and grip his arms to lead him to the seat next to you again, but he doesn’t want to move. You giggle when he leans closer, and the stubble from his beard tickles you. Bucky kisses your cheek softly.

“My lady, wanna dance with me?” he asks and looks at you with the most adorable puppy look.

His blue eyes are almost begging you to dance with him, and even when you would prefer to bring him into his room and make sure he goes to sleep, you can’t say no.

With a nod, you stand up as well, and he wraps his arms immediately around your waist. He doesn’t walk far away from the counter, just a few steps, so the two of you can dance without crashing against something. Bucky spins you around while he holds you still, pressed against him.

You wonder how it must feel for him when the room is already spinning, but the way he smiles and looks at you makes your mind dizzy, and you can’t think of anything other than him. You lay your head against his shoulder, and the heat of his body warms you. His hands are around your waist, making you almost melt in his embrace, and you could stay like that for the rest of the evening.

After a few minutes and Bucky almost lying on the ground and sleeping, you push him to the seats. Making sure he doesn’t miss the chair, when he sits, he immediately looks for his glass.

“Where is it? I’m thirsty," he says, looking at you with a slightly sad gaze.

You feel a bit sorry for him, but you reach for another glass, this time with water. Bucky looks at it skeptically, but then he pours it down his throat. Shaking his head like it’s something awful he doesn’t like. You chuckle, and it makes him look at you.

“Have you ever tried that? That’s awful,” he tells you and offers you the glass even when it’s empty.

“It’s not that bad,” you reply, and you take the glass to place it on the counter next to you.

“We should bring you into your room, you should sleep a bit,” you say, taking his hands into yours.

Before you can pull him up, and with you out of the room, he pulls you closer, and his lips are just a few inches away from yours. He is so close that you can feel his breath against your lips; it's warm and smells strongly of the ale he has consumed. You need to close your eyes for a moment. The man in front of you is making you go crazy.

“I don’t want to go to bed, not yet. I want to kiss you first, can I?” he asks you, and you immediately feel like he is Bucky from the 40’s again. And even when you don’t agree to drink his troubles away, you’re happy that he doesn’t have to suffer with his past right now. And let’s be honest, the 40’s Bucky is a gentleman, and you always wanted to know him; now you have the chance, at least for tonight.

“Doll?” Bucky asks, and you feel a shiver along your spine because of his soft voice.

You look into his eyes and smile softly.

“Of course,” you answer, not sure anymore about the question he asked.

He leans closer and kisses you softly. Bucky’s pink, plumb lips are so soft on yours, you never imagined them being that soft. You slide your hands through his hair, playing with his light curls. His lips move slowly against yours, while he lets you feel everything you tried to avoid when you’re around him. The feeling in your stomach whenever he touches you, the way he looks at you, or talks to you. You adore the way he tells you ‘Doll’ and you enjoy every moment you can spend with your best friend.

And that’s the point where you thought he would never feel the same for you. He is your best friend, and he was always a gentleman, so you were sure he was just nice. And now he is kissing you, with his hands at your waist, holding you close. Bucky is drunk, so you aren’t sure if it’s just a situation of his drunken state, but they always say: drunk people tell the truth, so he would feel the same for you as you feel for him.

When the two of you move a few inches away from each other, you still look into his eyes. His gaze looks a bit foggy, but you can also see the storm in his blue eyes.

“I love you; you’re the most adorable girl I know. You don’t know what you do to me whenever you look at me or just touch me softly. My feelings go crazy, and whenever another man walks close to you, I want to push them away and tell them you’re mine. I can’t sleep because I think of you; when you’re in a room with me, I can’t concentrate on something else, just on you,” Bucky says, and he smiles softly, his cheeks turning slightly red. “I have loved you for so long, but I thought you would never love me the same way. I was the Winter Soldier, and I don’t think I deserve someone brave, strong, wonderful, and perfect like you,” he adds, leaning his forehead against yours, wanting you to be as close as possible and feel your warmth.

You smile and press your lips against his again. The tingling feeling in your stomach grows again, and when he stands up, he towers over you, placing his hands around your cheeks, and he pulls you closer.

“I love you so much, my doll,” he whispers and slowly lets go of you, his hands gripping your waist again.

“I love you too, Buck. And you deserve everything good; it wasn’t you when you were the Winter Soldier. You’re a gentleman and the most precious one; I love the way you care about everyone you love,” you tell him, and he blushes.

Bucky lifts one of his hands and presses two of his fingers onto your lips, trying to make you shut up before you can compliment him more.

“You need more than two fingers to make me shut up,” you giggle, and his smile grows before he leans down and presses his lips on yours. He makes you speechless with the way his soft and warm lips move against yours.

“You two are almost disgusting,” Steve mumbles next to you, making you chuckle.

When you and Bucky break the kiss, you look at Steve. He still looks at you and blushes when he recognizes that you caught him looking at you and Bucky.

“You think it’s almost disgusting, but you can’t stop looking at us, huh?” you ask, and he immediately turns his head away while his cheeks get deeply red.

When you turn your head back to look at Bucky, you feel a burning look in your back. Without looking around, you already know the person who is staring at you with the same angry gaze; she always looks at you. Bucky recognizes your thoughtful look and looks up to see the person behind you. His hand clenches around your waist, and you hiss softly.

“Sorry, doll,” he mumbles, immediately losing his grip around your waist.

“Tony is staring at mine,” he growls, and you look around. You see Tony standing on the other side of the room and looking in your direction. He looks annoyed, and when you look a few inches further to the side, you see the person who is burning a hole in your back. Bucky thinks it’s Tony who is looking at you, but you know he is just listening to the person next to him. She is the one who hates you for being Bucky’s best friend, and now she will hate you more because Bucky kissed you. Sharon has had a crush on Bucky since you met her the first time, and he sometimes looks flirty around her, but he is always like that around friends. Otherwise, he would date Tony, Thor, or Steve as well.

The next morning, you wake up to the sun slowly brightening your room. You open your eyes and smile when the flashbacks of the last night come back into your mind. You and Bucky shared a lot more kisses, soft touches, and dances during the night.

You sit up slowly, stretching your limbs, and look at the clock. It’s just a bit after ten in the morning. After a few more minutes where you just look out of the window and enjoy the sun and the comfortable silence in your room, you stand up and walk through your bathroom.

With a few movements, you get out of your clothes and walk into the shower. The hot water runs along your body, and you feel your muscles relaxing under the warmth. You close your eyes, enjoying the moment just for you. In front of your eyes, you see Bucky kissing you the way he did last night. Your fingers are brushing softly over your lips, and for a moment, you feel like he is kissing you again. His hands are around your waist, and his body is pressing against yours.

But when you open your eyes, you just hear the sound of the water and your towel in front of you. No Bucky, right now. Just the thoughts making you smile again and the feeling in your stomach are the most wonderful you have ever felt until now. You are already excited to see him in a few minutes, but first you need to finish your shower and choose some comfortable clothes to wear.

With the biggest smile on your lips, you walk through the floor and into the shared kitchen.

“Someone looks really happy today,” Tony says, and you blush immediately.

Your eyes scan the room, so you can find Bucky and go to him. Talk to him about the last night and make sure you meant what you said. When you walk a few steps further into your room, you see Steve lying on the couch, holding his hand and groaning.

“I don’t know what happened last night. Tony, how can you manage to never have a headache?” he asks, and Tony laughs before he places his hand on Steve’s shoulder.

"Painkillers are really useful. It doesn't help to remember, but they help against the other effects after being drunk,” he says, and Steve nods. He doesn’t want to get up, so he just closes his eyes and tries to sleep a while longer.

You look around and see Bucky in front of the counter. Sharon stands next to him, and her hand rubs his back up and down. You roll your eyes, disgusted about the other girl, as you walk to them.

“Hey, Buck,” you say with a smile, and when the brown-haired man turns around, he smiles softly.

But in another way, as usual, he looks a bit sad, and instead of looking at you, he looks to the side.

“Hey,” he mumbles and takes his bowl with cereal.

Then he walks to the table, and Sharon follows him. You look at them both; maybe he has a hangover? You try to push the negative thoughts away and make yourself a bowl with your favorite cereals. You walk around the table and sit down in front of Bucky; he doesn’t look at you, and he doesn’t talk to you. He was just focused on his cereals and probably deep in his own thoughts.

“Buck?” You ask carefully, and he hums but still doesn’t look up from his bowl. “Can we talk? I mean just you and me?”

He nods in response and finishes his breakfast, then finally looks up to see you. But something is still different when he just loves to look into your eyes and adore the colors, but this time he looks at you like you’re someone else.

He waits until you finish your breakfast as well, and then he follows you through your room. Your best friend closes the door behind himself and looks at you.

“What’s up?” He asks with a cold voice, and you shiver immediately.

“Do you remember last night?” you ask, playing with your hands. You don’t want to look at him; you’re scared about the way he looks at you.

“No, but Sharon told me about it,” he tells you, and you nod softly.

For a moment, the two of you are quiet. You don’t know what to say, but the silence is uncomfortable as well. You shift from one foot to the other, your hands sweating, and you feel like you need to throw up.

“Why are you so cold?” you then ask and look at Bucky.

He clenches his jaw with his eyes staring at you, and the way he looks at you makes you even more uncomfortable. He never looked at you like that; the coldness almost showed hate in his eyes, and you can’t help but feel the tears burning in your eyes. He notices the tears in your eyes, and a sarcastic grin forms on his lips.

“Why are you crying now?” Bucky asks you loudly; you hiss and feel so small in front of him.

“You- Buck, yo-” You start to say something, but he interrupts you.

“Don’t call me ‘Buck’ or ‘Bucky’. You have no right to say that. You don’t deserve to say that,” he shouts, and your eyes widen.

“What do you want me to call you then?” you ask, trying to wipe the tears in your eyes away.

“Use my name. I have it for a reason,” he says, and you nod, not able to say anything.

You don’t know what happened to him. Last night he confessed his love to you, and now he acts like he hates you and has never even thought about loving you.

“Want to talk now or not? I have better things to do,” he says, rolling his eyes annoyed.

You feel a tear slowly falling down your cheek, not knowing the man in front of you anymore. He isn’t like your best friend; he isn’t like the one you fall in love with; he isn’t the one who kissed you yesterday; and he isn’t the Bucky, you know.

You shake your head. You want to talk; you really want to, but you can’t. At least not with the man in front of you. Was it all a lie? Was it all just fake? Or what happened that he is the way he is right now.

“Good,” he says, and he turns around to leave the room.

The moment he closes the door behind himself, you break down on the floor. You fall on your knees, the tears streaming down your cheeks, and you’re sobbing loudly. There is no feeling inside of you right now; you feel empty. You stare at the wall in front of you, his face in your mind, his smell, and the way he kissed you last night. You hear his words, like he is standing next to you and saying them to you. The ones of the night when he confesses his love to you and the ones he said a few minutes ago when he was looking at you with his cold, blue eyes.

“I love you; you’re the most adorable girl I know.”

“Don’t call me ‘Buck’ or ‘Bucky’.”

“I can’t sleep because I think of you; when you’re in a room with me, I can’t concentrate on something else, just on you.”

“Want to talk now or not? I have better things to do.”

It takes a while until you slowly calm down. You're curled on the floor, and the tears are still streaming down your cheeks. But your sobbing is quieter, and you slowly fall asleep on the floor. All the tears and the crying make you so sleepy that you don’t recognize Steve walking into your room and lifting you up to place you in your bed.

He sits next to you, his fingers stroking your hair softly out of your face, and he looks at you with a soft but sad smile. He saw Bucky walking out of the room, his gaze as cold as the whole morning, and even when he doesn’t know what happened at the party, he doesn’t want to leave you alone. But he also doesn’t want to interrupt you while you’re crying because he knows you would have to hide it, and he knows you need to let the feelings out of your body.

You don’t sleep well; nightmares interrupt your sleep every time, but you’re too tired to stay awake for a while. In every dream is Bucky; first he helps you, but in the next moment he shouts at you, laughs at you, and does everything you never thought he would do to you. You’re sweating and whimpering in your sleep, turning from one side to the other.

Steve tries to comfort you with his hand on your thigh, but it doesn’t work. With widened eyes, you wake up, starting to cry again for a few minutes before you fall asleep again. You don’t mind if someone sees you crying or not; you can’t escape Bucky, his coldness, not even in your dreams, and it robs you of all of the strength you have.

“Y/N?” Steve asks when you’re awake, but you turn around so you don’t have to face him.

You mumble a soft ‘mhm’. Steve sighs, his fingers drawing small circles on your thigh.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asks, but you shake your head.

You just want to be alone right now. Steve nods and stands up, walking through the door, but before he leaves the room, he turns to you.

“If you need me, you can call me or just come to my room,” he offers.

“Thank you,” you whimper, and the tears are streaming down your face again.

You can’t stop thinking about Bucky; he is burned in your mind like something you need to be. Something you need to be happy, and yes, he is someone you need to be happy. Without him, it doesn’t feel the same; watching your favorite movie wouldn’t be as fun because there is someone missing who holds you when you cry out of joy because they are married. Playing board games wouldn’t be the same because the one freaking out because he doesn’t get what he wants isn't playing the board games with you. Eating your favorite snacks and ice cream wouldn’t be the same because the one man who always laughs about your snack and ice cream decisions wouldn’t laugh. The one cuddling up wouldn’t let you cuddle with him, and you would miss HIS warmth and HIS scent. It’s not just a man; it’s the ONE man; it’s Bucky.

Wrapped in your blanket, you sit against the headboard of your bed. Looking through the channels for something that could distract you. But you feel like Bucky is manipulating the television because every channel shows a movie you used to watch with Bucky.

Everything reminds you of him: every place, every movement. Every second reminds you of Bucky, the memories you both have, and the moments you shared. And now he treats you like you’re the worst thing he has ever seen, and there is no reason why he does it, right?

You don’t want to sit in your room, but you don’t want to see Bucky somewhere as well. But you feel hungry after some time, and even when you wish you didn’t have to stand up to get some food, you don’t want to make yourself feel worse just because of Bucky.

So you slowly get up; it’s already afternoon when you walk through your room. Before you reach the door, you see the pictures on your wall. He and you took so many pictures during trips or parties, some when he was joking and others when he tried to look mad. Even when he really looks like a pouting puppy, when he tries to look mad at you, you always laugh about his pouting face.

You open your door and immediately hear the voices of the others. But there are not a lot of them; just three of them are there and talk. Steve, Bucky, and Sharon. With quiet footsteps, you walk closer to the room. You look at the floor, hoping that no one will see you.

But when your feet meet the ground in the room, the gazes of the three of them are immediately on you. Steve smiles sadly when he sees you. You probably look like a wrack, with red eyes and tears all over your face, but you don’t mind. Sharon looks at you with a smile, and Bucky is as cold as before.

When you make your way to the counter, you hear Sharon flirting with Bucky, and you feel like you want to throw up. You hate her, especially since she is a jealous bitch when you’re with Bucky. And now he has him for himself - exactly the plan she had.

“Buck, look at me,” she says, and you look around to see what they do. That’s the moment you wish you wouldn’t be in the room right now. Sharon leans closer, and her lips meet Bucky’s softly. His arms are wrapped around her waist, and you see yourself in her. The moment you had last night, and now he kisses her, not the one he confessed his love to last night.

The tears forming in your eyes - they're burning. They slowly stream down your cheeks, but you don't make a noise; you just look at them until they break the kiss, and Sharon looks at you with a wide bitch smile again.

“You’re right!" you shout, and Bucky turns around to look at you as well.

With a confused gaze, the two men look at you, and you chuckle sarcastically.

“You don’t deserve me. You’re an idiot, and I would prefer to be killed by the Winter Soldier instead of being your best friend,” you shout, and you see the change in his gaze.

You don’t mean it, not really, but the anger inside of you lets you say things like that.

You see, you hurt him by saying that he has nightmares because of the Winter Soldier; he blames himself for that, and you were the one who was able to give him moments where he didn’t blame himself, but now that you mention the Winter Soldier in a way, you hurt him the most you can. And you’re sorry for that, but you hate him so much right now that you can’t stop yourself from telling him things like that.

“I feel like he would love more than you ever can,” you say, and you walk a few steps closer to him. “I hate you, in a way I never thought it would be possible,” you hiss and turn away to grab some food from the counter before you leave the room.

Bucky looks at you, and the moment those words leave your mouth, his small world breaks a bit more. The only person who loved him so much hates him now. But he deserves it, doesn’t he? And he can’t bring himself to walk to you and ask what he did because he is way too mad at you for a reason he doesn’t want to admit in front of you.

It's been a week now since you saw Sharon and Bucky kissing each other. The day he started to be an ass and the day you told him he didn’t deserve you. And you didn’t change your mind; he hasn't been nice to you since that day; he ignores you; he doesn’t even look at you. His arms are always around Sharon’s body, and his lips are on hers.

You don’t really care about yourself anymore; you’re mostly in your room, crying or just laying there and waiting until you finally fall asleep. Steve tries every day to get you out of bed and wants to plan your favorite trips, but every one of them reminds you of Bucky, and you prefer your warm and comforting bed.

Someone knocks at your door, and you hum in response before Steve opens the door.

“Want to eat something? I cooked, and you need to eat,” he says, but you shake your head and turn around so you don’t have to face him.

Steve sighs softly and walks closer to you. He sits next to you on your bed and runs his fingers along your side.

“Do you want to tell me what happened between you and Buck? He looks different as well since the party,” Steve says thoughtfully, and you slowly turn around to look at him.

Your eyes are red, and he can see the tears all over your cheeks. Steve lifts his hand and wipes the tears away, smiling softly at you. You slowly sit up, your back against the headboard of your bed, and you pull your knees against your chest, wrapping your arms around them and placing your head on your knees.

“I thought-“ you sob quietly. “He said he loved me, and then he suddenly was with Sharon,” you mumble, and you can’t stop the tears again.

“He told you he loved you? When? I mean, I know it, but when did he tell you?” Steve asks, and your eyes widen for a moment.

He knows that Bucky loves you? What happened to Bucky being the way he is when he really loves you? Why is he kissing Sharon when he could have you? He could have the one he really loves.

“At the party, he told me he loved me. He kissed me,” you mumble, and Steve’s jaw drops.

“He finally managed it?” he asks, and you nod.

“And the next day he was the idiot he is, kissing Sharon, and it looks like they are happy together,” you tell him, and he shakes his head.

“I need to talk to him,” he tells you, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.

You look at him while he leaves your room. He almost runs out of it, and you don’t know why, but you don’t mind. Steve wants to talk to Bucky, but it won’t change his feelings for Sharon. And maybe Bucky thought it was her when the two of you kissed. Maybe he thought it was her when he confessed his feelings.

Meanwhile, Steve rushes into Bucky’s room. He sits on the edge of his bed, staring at the television. He doesn’t want to see Sharon today; he misses you, even when it’s just looking at you or hearing you talk. But since you’re in your room and only outside when you’re sure no one else is outside, he hasn’t heard or seen you in days.

“Buck?” Steve asks softly, and Bucky turns his head to look at the brown-haired man. He looks more broken than ever before. Steve walks closer to Bucky and lets himself fall next to his best friend in bed. “Where is Sharon?” he asks, and Bucky shrugs.

“Don’t care,” he says, and he stares in front of him again.

“Pal, what happened that you’re the way you are with y/n?” Steve looks at Bucky and sees the small tear escaping the corner of his eye.

"Nothing; she doesn’t want me,” he answers, and Steve chuckles softly. Stubborn idiot, but still his best friend and the idiot in love with you.

“She told me you confessed your love for her. And the two of you kissed. When she told me, I remembered, and it was her; it wasn’t Sharon, pal,” Steve continues, and Bucky’s eyes widen before he looks at his best friend again.

“We did what? And Sharon, what?” he asks.

“You kissed. You and y/n. But Sharon was just standing next to Tony on the other side of the room and was staring at the two of you,” he repeats, telling Bucky what he remembers. Bucky shakes his head, thinking about the version of the party and then the version he heard.

That’s definitely not what he heard about the evening. That’s not even similar to the things someone told him about.

“No, that’s not true,” Bucky says thoughtfully. “But even when, don't you know anymore what she said? She hates me, Steve." Bucky mumbles, and he feels even worse when he thinks about you, the way he treats you, and the things you said to him. Even when he understands it now, he understands why you said those things.

“I need to talk to her,” Bucky mumbles, but then he shakes his head. “Do you think she would listen?” he asks and looks at Steve, who nods.

“She is in love with you. Even when you’re such an idiot,” Steve tells him, pushing his best friend up. “Talk to her, pal,” he says, and Bucky smiles softly before he walks through the door.

He isn’t sure what to say when he talks to you. Maybe you don’t want to listen; maybe you won’t understand. Or do you really hate him now? Do you want to see him? So many thoughts run through his mind while he walks along the floor, unsure what to do or say when you ignore him or if he messed up after all the things with Sharon.

Bucky reaches your door and knocks softly. He hears your softy ‘come in’ and he opens the door. Now it’s too late to turn around; he has to talk to you now. You look at him, and your gaze gets. immediately cold.

“James,” you say, and he shivers slightly.

He didn’t know something inside of him could break more, but when you called him ‘James’ with that cold voice, something inside of him broke more.

“Doll,” he mumbles, closing the door behind him.

“Don’t call me that; call your new fucktoy that,” you hiss, and he looks at the floor.

You’re mad; he has never seen you like that before, but he can’t blame you. You’re hurt, and he is the reason for that. He hurts you so badly, but he loves you so much more than he can ever tell you. He can’t and doesn't want to be without you when there is just a percent chance for him to be yours. He would do everything to be yours.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. He hates when you’re so harsh and cold, but he understands it.

“What do you want here?” you ask, and he plays with his hands before he answers.

“I want to talk to you,” Bucky says quietly, and you chuckle sarcastically.

“I don’t want to talk to you, James,” you say, and you see him wiping some tears away.

“Please,” he begs, but you shake your head. “Can you please listen to me? Please?” he tries again, and he doesn’t want to go without telling you everything he feels, everything about the way he acted, especially why he acted like that. “Doll, please listen to me. Just this time, if you want me to go, then I will, and I will never talk to you again if you don’t want me to,” he says and sobs quietly.

You haven’t seen Bucky crying; sometimes he looked like he was about to cry, but he never cried. And now he stands in front of you, begging and crying for you to listen to him. And you want to listen, but the anger inside of you gets in control of you.

“You could have talked to me earlier. I fucking- I don’t care anymore,” you shout, and he flinches.

The strong super soldier looks like a small boy.

“Please, I love-“

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to hear all those lies anymore. Just shut up and go with those lies to your new girl,” you say, anger in your voice, and Bucky can’t stop the tears streaming down your cheeks.

He hurt you more than he thought he did. But he was so mad at you; he was mad about the things he heard. And now he is about to lose the most important person in his life. He loves you more than everything; he never loved someone as much as he loves you.

“I’m sorry for hurting you. I really am. I love you,” he whispers, and you shake your head sarcastically, laughing.

“I saw that. You treated me like the worst person you know; that’s love for you?" you ask, and he immediately shakes his head.

“No, but I didn’t know about the things that happened during the party,” he says, and he walks a step closer, slowly, to make sure you’re oke with it.

You want to throw him out of your room, but you also want to know what happened and why he was the way he was. He wouldn’t beg and cry when it wasn't important to him. So you accept when he takes a seat at the edge of your bed and looks at you. His eyes are red, and you can see the traces of his tears on his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, still blaming himself for doing all this to you. Bucky wants to touch you; he wants to hug you; and he wishes you would tell him it’s oke. But he knows he needs to explain his behavior before he can get some of that; when you’re ready to do it, then.

“What happened that night?”

He is interested in knowing what happened, and you clear your throat before you think about it again. When he turned into an idiot, you tried to avoid all his touches, his words, and his kisses so you didn’t need to cry all the time. And now he wants to know the truth, and you want to tell him, but you don’t want to cry because of that.

“Thor had some Asgardian alcohol there, and it made you drunk. We danced a bit; you told me you loved me; you kissed me,” you tell him, and he nods.

“You didn’t flirt with someone else?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“No, why should I? I love you, and I was happy you felt the same, but then you acted completely different the next day,” you mumble and look at him.

Bucky is playing with his fingers; you see the way he suffers because of his metal arm, and you remember the things you said about the Winter Soldier, and he probably hates his metal arm even more now.

“Why did you do it the way you did, and why are you suddenly so nice again?” you ask, and his jaw clenches slightly. Not in an angry way, but more in a thoughtful clenching.

“The morning after the party, I had a bad hangover and didn’t remember much of that night. I know that I kissed someone, but I don’t know the person. Sharon came into the room, and she asked me how the party was, and I told her I didn't know because I had too much alcohol. She wrapped her arms around my waist, and when I asked her why she said I kissed her that night,” he tells you, and you nod, blaming yourself for being the same way to Bucky as he was to you, even though it’s not his fault.

“I told her I don’t love her because I love you. And she told me about your night with a guy I don’t know. Sharon said you were flirting with me, but you have someone else, and you were flirting with me so you can make jokes with your boy about me being so dumb and really think you could love me the way I love you,” he continues, and your jaw drops slightly.

“Bu- James, there is no one else. I love you, and when you changed into the idiot you were, I hated the thought of you touching Sharon and the way you kissed her. But when you love me, why did you kiss her?” you ask, and Bucky runs his fingers through his hair.

“I wanted a distraction,” he whispers quietly, ashamed of that.

For a moment, you both sit in silence, looking at each other. “Did you really mean it?” he asks, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

"When you said those things about the Winter Soldier?” He asks, and you see his hands shaking softly. His anxiety gets worse when he thinks about your answer; maybe you could really mean it? Maybe you really think the Winter Soldier could love more than Bucky can?

“No, I was mad. I’m sorry, Buck,” you say, and he nods. You smile softly when he doesn’t tell you to stop calling him ‘Buck’. “I’m really sorry, but I didn’t see how much I would hurt you with that,” you add.

“I think I deserve it,” he replies, and you want to agree, but you also know it would make him feel worse.

He was an idiot, but now that he sits there, he begs and cries that you listen to him so he can excuse his behavior. He blames himself for so much; you don’t want him to blame himself for more.

“Buck?” you ask, and he hums in response. “Tell me the truth, please.”

You look into his eyes; the blue is as warm as the one you’re used to seeing when he is with you.

“I love you, doll. I never wanted to hurt you; I want to be yours. I want you to be mine,” he says, blushing slightly. You don’t know what to say. You want to tell him you feel the same, but at the same time, you’re scared he will go to Sharon when you’re not enough for him anymore. “I’m sorry, you had to listen. But thank you for listening,” he tells you and stands up to leave the room.

You reach for his metal arm, and he flinches when you touch it.

“Sorry,” you say, slightly shocked, and let go of his arm. Bucky turns around and smiles softly.

“Just didn’t think you would touch it.” His voice is so soft, exactly the way you love when he talks to you.

“Can you stay?” you ask and look down; maybe he would prefer to go to Sharon because you were really mean?

Bucky’s smile grows, and he lets himself fall down next to you and wraps his arms around your body, pulling you into his lap. His hands slide your back up and down, and he looks into your eyes like they are the most adorable things he has ever seen. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, and you play with his soft hair.

He leans closer, his lips almost touching yours, when you stop him.

“Did you brush your teeth and clean your face after she kissed you?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, and Bucky can’t stop himself and bursts out laughing.

“Yes,” he whispers, and he places one of his hands on your neck to pull you closer. His lips touch yours softly, and you almost melt in his embrace. Bucky moves his lips against yours, and a small smile appears on his lips.

“I love you, James,” you mumble against his lips, and he rolls his eyes.

“Can you be serious for a moment, doll?” he asks, laughing, and you look like you need to think about it before you answer him.

“I don’t know what you mean, James,” you giggle.

“But I love you too, doll,” he chuckles, pressing his lips on yours again to make you shut up and feel you as close as possible in that moment. He feels complete and comfortable now, being with his girl, the one he loves more than everyone, the one who loved him even when he was the Winter Soldier.

Taglist: @nicoline1998enilocin | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @km-ffluv | @kandis-mom | @lives-in-midgard | @bucky-barnes-lover | @felicitylemon | @sweater-bee | @identity2212 | @cjand10 | @bookishtheaterlover7 | @harleycao | @buckyalpine (I tag you here because I can’t find the post where you asked for angst oneshots)

[chrissv4mp]

can you plsss write some dom billie edging reader but telling her to be quiet because there’s people sleeping in the next room over or maybe she rails her with her hand over her mouth to keep her quiet??

stay quiet , BILLIE E.

combined this w another request that was fairly the same, but billie tries to get reader to be louder simultaneously!

edit: OH MY GOSH I JS REREAD THE ANON & IT SAID EDGING R💔💔 my bad im super tired😭

smut, fingering, dacryphilia, sorta somnophilia, mommy kink near the end, etc.

a soft sigh left your lips as you shifted in your sleep, moving back against billie and kicking her legs softly under the comforter. the girl only huffed, the small movement waking her up.

her eyelids fluttered open, yawning quietly as her eyes landed on your peaceful, sleepy expression when looked over your shoulder. she smiled as she leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head as her hand roamed across your half-naked figure.

you only moved back against her again, your ass pushing against her strap that she hadn't taken off from just a few hours prior and eliciting a quiet chuckle from the girl. you were needy, even in your sleep. before her hand could move any lower, she turned her head, glancing at the door.

there was a large crack in the door, and through it, billie could see her friends sleeping soundly on the couch in the living room. she turned back to you with a lustful smirk on her face as her hand began to move again, sneaking under the waistband of your thin cotton shorts.

she was immediately met with your soft, warm skin, and her hand snuck lower until her fingers came in contact with your clit. a lot mewl left your lips as you felt her fingers, bucking your hips against them as your eyes began to flutter open.

a gasp fell from your mouth as you felt her fingers move lower, her index finger dragging down your slit painfully slow, "shh, baby. the door is open and you wouldn't want our friends to hear would you?"

you tensed as billie whispered the words in your ear, one hand moving to grab a handful of the sheets and the other going behind you to grab onto your girlfriends arm.

"mhh.. please, bils." you sighed, and as your whiny tone reached billies ears, she couldn't hold back anymore.

"billie!" you moaned out, and your own hand shot up to your mouth so as to shut yourself up. you felt her fingers slow inside of your pussy, and your grip on her arm only tightened.

she pulled out fully, and you almost cried at the feeling of emptiness. softly, she moved so she was hovering above you, moving the comforter so that it covered both of your bodies again.

a smile formed on her lips again as she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips and chuckling as you chased her lips when she pulled back again.

you gasped at the feeling of her tip prodding at your entrance and then slowly thrusting all the way in. billie gave you a warning look as your lips parted in another moan, stopping her movements.

"what'd i say?" she mutters, one of her hands coming up to grope you through your black lacy bra and watching as you bit your lip in an effort to keep quiet, "that's my girl, so good for me."

before moving again, she pulled you into a kiss again, her hips immediately thrusting at a fast and deep pace. her hips never slowed, even when quiet moans began to fall from your mouth into hers. she only smirked, picking up her pace and reaching a hand down to rub circles on your clit.

a strangled cry left your lips before she pulled away again, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks from the immense pleasure.

"stay quiet, c'mon. lower your voice or i'll stop and you won't get to cum tonight." she warned, smiling at the way you sniffled.

billie only continued her movements, her fingers working skillfully fast on your swollen bud as she thrusted deeper if possible. quiet grunts fell from her own lips as her hips snapped to meet your own, her eyes occasionally glancing at the open door beside the two of you.

"don't stop, baby—shit, shit, shit, right there!" you sobbed quietly, knuckles turning white as your grip on the sheets intensified. a string of curse words and cries of billies name continued to fall from your swollen lips.

she sighed, eyes snapping back to yours and feeling her own wetness grow as she watched tears slide down your face. she leaned down again, her free hand holding herself up as she stared you deep in the eyes, "i'm not gonna tell you again, mamas."

"keep your fuckin' mouth shut, got it?" she whispered, lips hovering inches away from your own. you only nodded, eyes squeezing shut as you rolled your hips against her fingers on your clit.

her head moved to rest in the crook of your neck, pressing feather-light kisses on your sensitive skin that quickly turned to nibbles and sucks. dark purple marks began to form as she moved to every spot on your neck that she could reach, her goal being to not leave one spot empty.

the way she was moving and touching you made you crazy, squirming underneath her half-naked body as you cried into her ear. she was trying to get you louder just so she could tease you, and it was working. it was almost impossible to keep your mouth shut. almost.

your hips rut against her strap as she begins to speed up, the coil in your stomach tightening at the sudden change. your hands moved to her clothed back, nails digging through the fabric as you held her close. you didn't want her to pull away again.

another sob left your mouth, this one louder than before as you stumbled over your words, murmuring inaudible sentences that consisted of the words, "fuck—g'nna cum, bils..."

"please, don't stop. feels s'good, mommy..!" billie gasped at the nickname, whimpering audibly into your ear. that alone made you cum, and your body trembled underneath hers as her hips came to slow.

your grip loosened, and then your arms fell limp beside you. soft, heavy breathing was heard in billies ear as you came down from your high, legs still shaking uncontrollably.

she rolled off your sensitive body, lying beside you and smiling as she saw your fucked-out expression. the black-haired girl bit her lip as her eyes went down to your swollen, red lips.

"mommy, hm?" she whispered teasingly, pressing a kiss to your temple with a smile.

you only chuckled, blush creeping onto your face as you turned your back to face her, "shut up." you mumbled.

both you and billie gasped at the sudden creak of your bedroom door, the girl beside you hurrying to pull the covers over your bodies, "could you two be any louder?"

alex laughed, rubbing his eyes as he stood at the door frame. you could hear zoe giggle from inside of the living room, and you only moved further under the sheets.

"get out!" billie laughed, grabbing a pillow from behind her and throwing it at her friend. she watched as alex closed the door, hearing his laughs even from the other side.

@livialifesblog @mxqdii @mseilishmwah @sophlovesmeangirls @devynscomet