#ill come up with somethin :3

[o-i-w-u]

should. should mer!lunar have a spigot? what animal do we think spigot would be???

[alien-magnolia]

You Saved Me

Tw: logan howlett x fem!reader, domestics, description of childbirth/pregnancy, breeding knk, fem/mutant! reader, domestics, Logan being so caring <3 18+ MDNI

A/n: please support your creators and reblog if you love this content <3 xoxo, Liz

——-

You never believed in being absolutely crushed, enamored with someone just from one instance of meeting. Just from one glance. That never fell to be true. Until you met Logan.

He saved you from Striker’s Island, saved you from life in a cage, life as an experiment, carrying you off the grounds of the facility because you had a broken leg. He was so caring, so gentle, with you that day.

You sobbed as the bone in your leg bulged out, itching to relieve itself in the fresh air, away from the mess that was your thigh. “I know it hurts. Just hold on to me, yeah? Won’t let anything happen to you,” he consoles, his gruff voice and warm, heaving chest a comfort to you as the pain from your leg was asinine — slowly killing you.

He was gentle on the night you eloped, as well. The two of you fell enamored with each other in only a span of a few months. You needed each other to heal. The two of you spend some time away from the X-mansion, back in the outskirts of the Colorado mountains.

“Let me carry you over these rocks, bub. Don’t want you to strain yourself,” he chided at you, and once again, those strong, hairy arms you loved so much, picked you up as if you weighed nothing, and carried you to the edge of the cliff. “It’s beautiful here, Logan,” you exclaim in quiet awe. “It’s nice. Private,” he replies, a large hand coming to cup your face. “You saved me, bub. After losing my brother, having all these god-fuckin’ awful memories. Had so much pain,” he sighs. “I know. You’re safe now, Lo,” your hands cup his cheeks, pulling him into a slow and chaste kiss.

—-

“Can’t! Can’t take it anymore — Lo!!,” you squealed, as his broad chest pressed up against your back, all the chest hair leaving marks on your back. His large hands cradling your front, occasionally squeezing at your plush tits, his grunts animalistic. “Doing so well, sweetheart. Taking me so well. Give me one more squeeze bub, I know you can,” he reassures, as you feel like you’re about to explode from his thick, eight inch cock ramming into you, over and over.

You’re in complete bliss as you feel his seed seeping into you. You were fertile. You were his. His claws come out as he finishes, almost touching your neck. He pulled them back quickly, checking if you were okay. “Love you so much, sweetheart. You’re my moon, I’m your Wolverine,” he whispers, as he rolls you over onto your back, wiping you with a towel. He lays down next to you, cradling you on his big chest, in an almost paternal way.

You were safe, you were loved.

He continued being the softest, gentle, man that he could be, with you. Even when the both of you returned to the Mansion. He would constantly check in on you if you were teaching class, advising the students of how you gained control of your telepathy. He would always make sure you went to bed at a reasonable time, and that you wouldn’t over exert yourself while teaching.

His love and care for you was innately fierce, and it grew even more fervorous when you told him you were pregnant. You’ve never seen the man so happy.

He was insanely protective over you. He was your shadow, always around where you were. If another at the mansion even so simply looked at you, he would get defensive. “We got a problem here?,” he would ask, claws slowly inching out. They would shake their head quickly and walk away.

He would hold back your hair as you had morning sickness, constantly ill. He would tell you everything would be okay, as you gained a bit of weight, as your hormones raged out of control.

“What do you need, bub? Water? I can make you somethin’ to eat too, don’t hold out on me, now,” he asks, as he walks into your kitchen after a long day of working with Charles on a new project. You sniffle, “I never knew pregnancy would be this hard, Lo. I’m losing it.” “Hey. You’re still my moon, y’ know. You saved me, sweetheart. Still love ya just the same, even if you’re all heavy with my kid. It’s a new life we made,” he reassures, bringing you in to the safe haven of his chest again. You smile warmly, as he continues to hold you.

He was there with you for the birth. You were in so much pain, and he held you — every step of the way. When the infant was finally out, the three of you spent hours just laying together, having skin to skin contact. “My moon. Did so well f’me, sweetheart,” he tells you, as you have your infant laying on his chest, and your fingers gently touch his beard.

He saved you, after all.

A/n: I want this man in a very bad way, a very, very, very, very bad way. Screaming. References here are from original X men movie and X men origins: Wolverine.

[strangersteddierthings]

Sequel to Good People - The fic in wherein Wayne doesn't like Steve and overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Here's the aftermath of that :3

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

-

Wayne had stayed in his bedroom long after he heard the boys leave. Eddie had knocked on his door to let him know he'd be staying at Steve's and to not expect him back until late tomorrow, a courtesy he'd never shown until after he'd been the victim of a manhunt back in spring. Wayne never asked him to do that but he thinks Eddie picked up on how worried Wayne would get if he were gone for any amount of time.

Eddie's always been good at reading people when he bothers to pay attention to them. Maybe that should have been enough reason for him to give pause to his dislike of the Harrington boy, instead of needing to overhear the boy crying about how he thinks there's something rotten deep within him that only Wayne can sense.

He'd been so sure he knew what kind of person Steve Harrington was. Eddie had been hung up on boys just like him pert-near his whole life, Wayne thinks, and it's never ended differently.

It's a Tuesday night and his friends usually gather at the bar on Friday nights, but Wayne needs to get out of the trailer to think. A beer might help. So, he grabs his keys and heads out.

He's been a regular at this bar since before he was even old enough to drink. Used to come with his pa, may he rest in peace, just to get out of the house. He's been a patron longer than any of the staff have worked there, he realizes.

"Hello Linda," Wayne greets as he takes a seat at the bar instead of at his usual table. He'd done a cursory glace when he came in and confirmed none of his drinking buddies were in before choosing the bar.

"This isn't your usual day," Linda says, leaning a hip on the counter, "but it's always a pleasure to see you."

"I got some thinkin' to do," Wayne replies and Linda nods and moves away, returning soon with a bottle of his usual beer. She picks up the bottle open and removes the cap before setting the drink down in front of him.

"Need a sounding board, hun?" She asks.

Wayne does a quick survey of the bar again but it's pretty quiet so he returns his gave to Linda and says, "if you wouldn't mind too much hearin' about how an old man might have messed up."

Linda laughs. "You aren't even half a decade older than me, so you best not be sprouting that 'old man' nonsense around me, 'cause I am not some old lady."

"Terribly sorry, Linda. I'm just really feelin' like an old fool."

A small frown comes to Linda's face then. "Now what could you have possibly done?"

"Well, I guess I'm tryin' to figure out if I did mess up. Eddie's got a friend and I don't trust 'im. Thought I had good reason not to, but, well, I overheard somethin' I wasn't supposed ta and now I'm not sure."

Linda hums, "hmm, that doesn't sound like you, judging someone unrightly. You are usually a good read about people."

"I'll admit, I haven't bothered to spend enough time with the boy to, uhh, judge him."

"Wayne Munson," Linda scolds, "you best not be telling me you judged that boy because of other people."

Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face. "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?"

"Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed.

Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."

Linda's mouth is almost a perfectly straight line with how much she's pursed her lips the more he talks, but she doesn't interrupt and no customer calls for her, so he continues.

"And you know what Richard Harrington was like. I know y'all only shared one school year together, but Janice wasn't any better, and she was your year, wasn't she?" Linda gives him one nod in response. "That boy's a product of them. I- You can't fault me for thinkin' differently."

"So, when do you expect Eddie to end up in prison?"

The question throws Wayne and fills him with anger at the same time. "Now, Linda, I ain't likin' what you are implyin'."

"I ain't implyin' nothing," she says, using the same tone with him that he did with her. "I'm applying your logic. Eddie's a product of his parents, ain't he? Al's in prison, and his mama's long gone, bless her soul. And since Eddie ain't sick, last I heard, he must be following after his daddy."

The anger leaves him then, and all he's left with is shame. "Point made. And if I'm bein' fully honest with ya, I don't even need ya to defend that boy. That thing I overheard. That what's eatin' at me. He called me good people."

Linda softens, shoulders dropping, "you are good people, hun."

"That boy told my Eddie that I'm 'good people', and that his parents are bad ones, and I. I don't know what to do about that."

"He thinks his own parents are bad?"

Wayne nods, "is what he said. Thinks I can somehow sense he's also rotten just by association."

"There's nothing to it, then," Linda says, like they've already talked out the tangled mess that is Wayne's thoughts on Steve Harrington and have reached a conclusion. Well, perhaps Linda already has. She's always been bright, and she's usually right. "You, Wayne Robert Munson, need to apologize to that boy. The guilt and shame's gonna put you into your cups otherwise."

Wayne nods slowly, though he isn't even sure if he agrees or is just acknowledging what she said before he takes a long pull from his bottle before lowering both his arms to rest on the counter as he replies, "You're right as usual, Linda my dear. I just gotta let go of the fact he's Richard Harrington's son and try and see just Steve."

"Damn right. Eddie might be Al's by birth, but you raised him and he turned out alright. Maybe Steve got the same treatment. Had his own Wayne around to raise him right."

There might be a bit of truth to that. He's heard enough talk about Steve Harrington over the years to think that. One of his drinking buddies used to be Jim Hopper. He's heard about the amount of parties he'd had to go shut down at the Harrington's house, with no parents to be seen. (Always Jim's biggest gripe back then. "Where's this kids goddamn parents!?) Wayne always assumed their kid just took advantage every time his parents were gone, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe they were always gone, and Steve had parties to not be alone in his house.

Linda's right. There is nothing to it. He needs to talk to Steve, properly apologize, and go from there.

"It ain't an easy thing, admittin' you might be wrong," Wayne sighs.

Linda reaches across the counter and places a hand on Wayne's arm just below his wrist. Wayne looks up from where he'd ended up staring at his bottle, making eye contact with her. "If your boy is friends with this boy, it's for a reason. Just give him a chance. You are one of the good ones, but even we can have a lapse in judgment now and then. Doesn't make you bad, makes you human."

"Ain't no one perfect but the good Lord," Wayne says and Linda nods in agreement.

"Alright. I'll leave you to your beer and your thoughts for now, but you best keep me updated on your situation. I wanna know how it goes," Linda retracts her hand and heads down the counter to check on the few other people sitting about nursing drinks.

Wayne sits in his thoughts more than he drinks, so by the time he's done with the beer it's warm but that's fine. He will talk to the Harrington kid, but he wants to talk to Eddie first. He owes his nephew that much, and he does recall Eddie saying something to the effect of 'he'll come around' to Steve, and Wayne wants to tell Eddie he'll try.

Also he doesn't want to just corner the boy after he's been somewhat intimidating intentionally. He's going to get Eddie to ask if Steve'll talk to him.

True to his word, Eddie returns home late the next day. The clock says it's almost 6 when Eddie finally comes through the front door. If he's surprised to see Wayne awake, he doesn't show it. He does work the graveyard shift, and he's got a shift at 10 tonight, usually wakes up two hours before his shift. He'd wanted to make sure he caught Eddie, though, so he's been up since three.

"Eddie, you got a minute?" Wayne says.

"Sure. What's up?" Eddie says as he pulls off his jacket, depositing it on the nearest surface before plopping sideways on the couch so he's facing Wayne.

"I gotta come clean. I overheard some of what you and Steve were talkin' about," Wayne says, because he's a man of his word and he's always been good at doing the hard thing if it also turns out to be the right thing. He's got to be honest with Eddie, so he can be honest with himself. "Heard Harr- Steve talkin' 'bout how he thinks I'm a good person, and his parents aren't."

Eddie's quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly back at him while he thinks. "Oh. Umm. Sorry. I just- I think this is the first time I've heard you say Steve's name."

"Not the part I thought you'd focus on," Wayne huffs a laugh, "but I owe your boy an apology and I was hopin' you could help me make it happen."

"My boy- what is happening," Eddie drops his voice to whisper the question to himself.

"What's happening is I'm doin' the thing I always told you ta do. Taking accountability and fixin' my mistake."

"Oh. Oh!" Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne, "you've made an ass out of me. All those times I assured Steve you were just being standoffish and you were- what were you doing?"

"Intentionally keepin' the boy at a distance 'cause I thought he was gonna hurt you. I sure as hell ain't been friendly. I been judging him because I knew his parents, thinkin' about how an apple don't fall far from the tree," Wayne stops, giving pause to see if Eddie will speak but he isn't. He's just staring at Wayne like he's a puzzle. "It was brought to my attention that it's mighty unfair to judge someone 'cause of how their parents act."

Eddie's brow furrows and his lips purse. It makes him think of Linda. She'd made the exact same face. "I- Jesus fuck this is weird, but I. I think I'm mad at you. Disappointed."

Eddie doesn't say it with an angry tone, and his face still looks more puzzled than mad, but the sentence feels like a kick to the chest anyway. Eddie and he have never been mad at each other, not in the eight years Eddie's lived here with him. They've been worried and scared for each other that, or mad at someone or something else that they take out on each other, but never mad at each other.

"You've every right to be."

Eddie stands from the couch, paces down the hallway, and Wayne thinks this might be the end of any conversation tonight, but instead Eddie comes storming back up the hall. "So, what, did you take me in expecting me to be my dad!?"

"No. He mighta contributed to your birth, but we both know that man ain't nurtured you a day in his life."

"Yeah, well, Steve's parents didn't raise him either, so all this has been bullshit! You made Steve think he's, he's broken and a bad person! And," Eddie's eyes are wet and he's angry but also about to cry. Wayne hasn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since the day they learned Al was in prison, fifteen years with a chance for parole if he's on his best behavior. Eddie had been so angry, and sad, and hurt by the news. Eddie's like that now, worked up so much he's repeating himself as he hiccups his words out around the lump in this throat, "And, and you made me help him feel that way! Because I didn't take him serious when he said, said you didn't like him! I thought you were being, being a dad, all fake gruff to intimidate the guy I like but it's- you were- FUCK!"

Wayne lets him yell. He deserves it, and Eddie needs it. Eddie's not saying anything untrue. He takes in what Eddie is yelling at him; Steve's parents didn't raise him, and how Wayne's cold shoulder must have added to whatever else Steve has going on in his life.

"I, I h-held him while he b-bawled into my shirt last night! He, he thinks- and you, you didn't even trust me! T-trust my own j-judgment of, of Steve! I, I need- I can't-" Eddie doesn't finish the sentence. He turns on his heel and storms back down the hall, the slamming of his door finalizing this conversation.

To say that Wayne feels terrible is inadequate. He's hurt his boy, and he's hurt his boy's boy, and he's got no one to blame but himself.

Now he's got two apologies to make.

I tried to tag as many people as I could remember that expressed interest in a follow up fic. I am SO sorry if I missed you. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part. I will only be tagging people who ask to be tagged going forward 'cause it's a lot of people to remember and my memory is garbage.

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @itsthestrangestthings @emofratboy @devondespresso @finntheehumaneater @loopholesinmydreams @yourmom-isgay @wrenisflying @emsgoodthinkin @messrs-weasley @madigoround @jackiemonroe5512 @gutterflower77 @zerokrox-blog @eriquin @samyuck @lunarmaruna @mugloversonly @kaij-basil-lionelli88

[benedictscanvas]

pretty boy, pretty girl - jamie tartt x reader

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

a/n: okay yes. it has been six months. which is actually mad to me, but there we are - whoops! i've been off following my dream and wrote this while procrastinating an assignment, so this is by no means a return!! honestly i was just itching to write it, but i don't know how much time i have for more - enjoy nevertheless <3

warnings: just a little bit of suggestion towards the end, reader is referred to as 'pretty girl' as the title implies amongst other pet names, quite a lot of swearing (some things don't change)

---

“Hi love.”

Jamie barely murmurs it as he walks past you, can’t help himself but to drag a palm along your back, one shoulder blade to the other, as he goes. 

He knows he’s bold sometimes, but he swears it’s instinct. He glances back to see whether your expression holds any discomfort, but all he finds is your grin, a tiny wave. He continues on his path towards the canteen, knowing that your corridor conversation with Rebecca is probably important.

Somewhere between here and there, he decides to get your lunch, your usual, and sits alone on a table until you appear.

You do, three and a half minutes later. As soon as he sees you, the irrepressible urge to make you grin again is back with a vengeance. He waves you over to his table with a gesture to the food he’s got for you and- there it is again.

If he was a slightly smarter man, maybe he’d consider why all it took was the sight of him to draw your lips upwards, set your eyes alight.

“Thought I’d save y’ from the queue,” he speaks, still soft, in a tone he feels he only uses with you. You match his unnecessary low volume.

“Thanks, angel,” you say easily, and you must not see his stomach doing flips, “Too good to me, you are.”

“Shut up,” he deflects, wonders if you can see him fluster at your nickname for him, “Are you still coming tonight?”

You groan. He frowns, and you quickly correct.

“Sorry. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, you sound proper convinced, an’ all.”

You chuckle, taking a bite out of your sandwich and taking a pause to chew. Jamie eats too, content to let you think before you speak. It was slowly teaching him to do the same.

“I’m just boring, Jamie. My favourite people are all under this roof, but usually they’re sober, you know?”

He often forgets you don’t really drink. Your friendship (however sour that word feels in relation to you) usually confined to these halls, to the pitch, to various football stadiums up and down the country. When they all get a chance to let loose, you’re very quick with the excuses, but he’s believed them blindly until this moment.

“Shit, y’ don’t drink, right? I can’t imagine that’s much fun in a club. I won’t tell anyone if you happen to come down with an illness or somethin’ this afternoon.”

You’re grinning at him again, all bright and sunny. It’s downright infectious, so Jamie nudges your foot with his on purpose and then apologises like it’s an accident.

“You’re alright,” you reassure, “I will join tonight. Even if it just proves to myself I’m not missing out on anything. Maybe Colin’s not as bad a drunk as I’ve been led to believe.”

Jamie winces.

“No, he is pretty bad,” he admits and then finally comes up with something to make you more comfortable, “Hey, what about this? I won’t drink either and we can spend the evening laughin’ at everyone else.”

You poke his hand and he tries not to drop his crisp packet.

“It’s everyone’s ‘relax and recharge’ night, Ted said. We both know you relax much easier with a few drinks in you. And I’d never judge anyone for that, I really hope it doesn’t come across like I’m judging any-“

“It doesn’t, sweetness,” he cuts in, “But actually, I’ll relax better if I’m one hundred percent positive that you’re relaxing too. What better way than judgin’ everyone else, together like?”

You purse your lips thoughtfully, mid-chew. He feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s underwater and you’re in charge of the oxygen tank.

“Well, see how you feel when we’re there. It sounds lovely but only if you’re still up for it when we’re right next to a bar,” you say, still unconvinced. He wants to convince you fully, but he can’t decide if he should argue with you or kiss you silly before you speak again, “Hey, if not, I’ll buy you a drink?”

“Pretty sure that’s my line, love.”

“I said it, I meant it. Girls can buy drinks for pretty boys, you know.”

He thinks you might have removed his oxygen tank now. There’s some cruelty in that sentence but you don’t know you’re wielding it. He wills himself to flirt back even though it’ll only make him feel sick.

“Okay, pretty girl. One passionfruit J2O, please.”

Another grin. He’s so fucking fucked.

---

He’s been waiting for you for around forty minutes. He doesn’t know if that’s the normal amount of time you take to get ready, even if he wishes he knew, so he just waits, leaning against his car.

After fifty, he decides there’s no harm in just checking you’re alright and haven’t slipped on a sparkly floor that an evening cleaner has done a number on.

You mentioned going to the kit room to get changed, and he meets Will on his way there.

“Hey mate, you seen Y/N?”

Will looks paler than he’s ever been. Guilty. Jamie narrows his eyes and waits.

“Kit room.”

It’s all that Will says. When Jamie doesn’t walk off immediately, still waiting for an explanation for Will’s strange demeanour, Will turns around and legs it all the way down the corridor, turns left at the end and never returns.

Jamie shakes his head and continues in the direction of the kit room. The closer he gets, the more he hears. Muffled banging, shouting. He picks up the pace.

“Y/N? Love?”

“Jamie! Jamie, in here!”

Your voice floats out from the kit room and he hurries over. Still very confused, Jamie turns the door handle and finds the door won’t budge, however hard he shoves his shoulder against it.

“It’s locked, babe. Did you lock it?”

He hears your exasperated sigh and feels a little embarrassed.

“No I didn’t bleeding lock it! Well, I did, when I was getting changed, but then when I unlocked it my side it had been locked from the outside.”

Jamie struggled to put the dots together. Had Will locked you in? Judging by the running, he had… and he’d done it on purpose. A spark of anger shot down Jamie’s spine but he tried to convince himself there must be a reason.

Before he could, there was a hand on his on the door, pulling him away. It was being unlocked by another hand and then he was being shoved inside, hard enough to stumble against one of the benches. A piece of paper was thrown at his face and Jamie groaned as he heard the lock click back in place.

“What the fuck?” he muttered as he stood up fully, more dazed than angry now as he stared at the locked door.

“Jesus, Jamie, are you alright? Who the fuck was that?”

“I dunno,” he says, staring at the door as if it might have answers. Your hand on his face wakes him up, his eyes shifting to yours where you look him over with concern.

“You’re alright, though?”

You ask it like you need the answer, and Jamie needs you to stop trailing a finger along his hairline either way.

“Fine, love,” he assures you, patting the juncture between your shoulder and neck gently until your hands drop to your sides. Then he raises his voice, and he’s not really talking to you anymore, “Whoever’s locked us in here as some kind of joke won’t be fuckin’ alright though!”

No answer. He picks up the small piece of paper from the floor and reads it in his head.

Tell her, you prick.

He’s actually going to hit Roy with his car. Lightly, definitely not enough to damage him, but enough to really, really piss him off.

This was all some ridiculous attempt to make him tell you how he felt about you? Absolutely not. Never. He wouldn’t be coerced into something so delicate, so important.

“What’s it say?”

You’re peering over the top of the paper, but he folds it in two before you can read anything. His chuckle comes out strained.

“It says: Get fucking pranked. Must be Roy, he’s probably scared Will into helpin’ him, the fucker. I’m afraid it’s payback for putting all his socks on the ceiling last week, babe, an’ you’ve been caught in the middle.”

You pause, staring at your shoes. For some reason, you look far more forlorn than the situation calls for, but it’s gone before he can think about it further.

“On the ceiling?”

He nods and you giggle. It’s only as you step away from him in your laughter that he realises how close you had been. He should’ve savoured it.

It’s also only as you step away that Jamie finally gets a glimpse of your outfit and nearly reaches out to the nearby bench for strength. He’s never seen you in a v-neck anything before, let alone a dress, and he thinks it might do him in.

“You look good,” he says lamely, then tries again, “Great. Fan-fuckin’-tastic, I mean.”

“I like that last one,” you smile, ducking your head. He thinks, or rather hopes, you’re a little flustered, “Fan-fuckin’-tastic happens to be what I was going for.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, words gone as soon as he’d found them. And now he was staring. Shit.

“I like your suit,” you say, maybe breathless yourself. It must be his ears. You reach up as if you might fiddle with his lapel but just point towards it before your hand drops again. You practically fall down onto the bench you’re both stood beside and he follows, ever obedient, “Shame no one else will ever see it. How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”

The suit isn’t for anyone except you. That’s what he’d say if he had any stupid bravery. He’s an awful coward, he thinks.

“Until Roy gets bored or Keeley finds out I reckon,” Jamie guesses, “Y’ wanna play I-spy?”

You sigh, but when he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye, you’re grinning your silly, lovely grin again.

“I spy with my little eye…”

---

It is around 11pm, when Jamie has not long fallen asleep against the jacket he had scrunched behind his head, that he feels your hand on his ankle. He can tell, as he wakes without opening his eyes, that you’re not trying to rouse him. The touch is light, feathery. Maybe an accident.

No, not an accident. It wouldn’t have lasted this long, and your thumb is drawing absentminded circles into his ankle bone. You think he’s asleep and you’ve reached out to hold him anyway.

He opens his eyes but doesn’t move. His legs are stretched out on the bench in front of him and you sit upright next his sock-clad feet, one hand on his bare ankle. You’re staring at a piece of paper so intently he wonders what could possibly be so interesting.

“This doesn’t say get fucking pranked, Jamie,” you murmur, and his hand flies to his jacket pocket. It must have fallen out when he slumped into a slumber. He’s sat up in a blink, watching the hand that had been so soothing, fall back at your side suddenly.

“I’m sorry. Shit. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“No, don’t,” you insist, still staring at the piece of paper. Instead of whirling on him for answers, you reach calmly into one of the boot cubbies beside your head and pull out a piece of paper from one of the boots. You chuck it at him without looking.

He unfolds it with careful, if shaky, hands.

Tell him, you silly shit.

It takes him an absurdly long time to understand what the hell this second piece of paper means. Later, when the two of you look back on this moment (and you do so often), you’ll wonder how he could have been so dense and he’ll spin you a line about how too good to be true it all felt. But in the moment, he has no lines and no words, until your hand lands heavy on his knee this time.

“Jamie,” you say softly, through a grin that is so different from your usual that he could pass out. It’s so beautiful and so strikingly lovesick that he thinks he might actually be sick, “What do you have to tell me?”

“What?”

He feels dumber than he’s ever felt. But your hand is still on his knee and now you’re shuffling closer to him on the bench.

“What do you have to tell me?” you repeat, then you poke his chest playfully as you add, “You prick.”

He still looks confused, so you clearly decide the best way to catch him up is to kiss him.

You pull away after a moment, a moment of pure heaven, because clearly you don't want to kiss him fully until he's all clued in.

"Come on, pretty boy," you say, teasing, "Figure it out. I was going to buy you a passionfruit J2O. It's the sign of all signs."

He should be laughing at your joke, but all he really wants to do is kiss you again. And again.

Maybe again.

"Oh pretty girl," he says, and he feels the rumble of his low tone in his chest. He places a hand on your face, fingers itching at your hairline, "I'll tell you anything ya wanna hear, I swear. Anythin'."

He hears your breath hitch, but he feels it too, where the meat of his palm is covering your neck.

"Anything?" you answer back, "I could have a lot of fun with this."

You scrunch up your brow like you're thinking and he's so stupidly in love with you that he just tells you. Too-soon be damned.

"Smooth talker," you laugh, giddy, and you kiss him again. And it's so good that he doesn't even remember you didn't say it back until hours later.

(at which point, you say it back so many times and in so many ways, Jamie is certain that he's the luckiest man in the world. he might not hit Roy with his car after all)

[nylibrty]

could you pls write a stewie x virgin!reader either it being her first time with her or first time w strap and bre being really careful but also hot lol (praise and talking through it yk) thank youuuu

tell me somethin' good, baby ⸝ ⸝ ⸝ b.stewart

「pairing」 breanna stewart x virgin!reader

「summary」 request ^^

「cw」 smut. gentle sex, praise, a lot of yap 😭, white tank top stewie mentioned, stewie being a sweetheart <3

「notes」 hope i did your vision justice anon !

your senses were flooded with breanna and breanna only. you were sat on her lap, your lips intertwined and had been for the past hour. this is usually as far as it ever got, bre knowing you were still a virgin and didn't want to push you into anything.

you had pulled away for a moment, not only to catch your breath but also look at your girlfriend for a moment. you needed this, and you needed it now. you weren't sure how much longer you could ignore the need in your brain and the throbbing between your legs.

"bre, 'm ready" you mumbled, resting your forehead against hers. her hands balled your shirt a little, a nervous look coming across her face at the same time.

"are—are you sure? idontwannaforceyouintoanythingorlikepressureyou" she rambled, almost so quick and stuttery you missed what she said. a small chuckle erupted from your throat.

"shh, yes baby. 'm sure, now make love to me. please." you giggled, a soft blush coming onto your face.

she nodded, and with that flipped you two around effortlessly. you stared up at her in awe, soft wet curls draped her shoulders, her nipples poked through the white fabric of her tank top, and the look of love that filled her eyes. "tell me if its too much, 'kay?" she mumbled against your lips.

you nodded and brought her in closely, returning back to your previous activities. her lips worked against yours like they had countless times before, but this time with a new sense of fervor, like you were her last meal. your hands tangled into those damp curls, enjoying how she reacted when you tugged slightly.

her hand ran down your body, blunt nails taking their time to run down the fabric of your shirt and eventually the waistband of your shorts. she played with the elastic slightly, her fingers slipping under and running across the skin before coming back out. "can i?" she asked, pulling away to look at you once more.

"please breanna," you whimpered. with a nod, she slipped off your panties and shorts in one fluid motion. her eyes darting down, admiring your lower half. she had seen you naked plenty of times, but never in this context.

"you're so beautiful." she grinned, diving right back in to kiss you once more before you even had a chance to respond.

her fingers slipped down once more. instead of reaching a sleek pair of panties, she reached your slick folds this time around. she swallowed a soft moan from you the second she ran a finger through your soaked cunt. "so wet f'me." she grinned, moving down slightly to kiss across your neck.

your arms rested around her neck, keeping her close to you. your legs fell open at the feeling of her thumb run across your clit and a finger tease your entrance. "ill stop whenever, just say the word." she murmured against your neck before gently slipping in one finger, her thumb still circling your clit oh so gently.

it was like something you've never felt before, a sharp gasp fell from your lips and your hips instinctively pushed up into her. "you're taking me so good, baby." she was looking at you now, her blue eyes staring at you so lovingly. the praise spurred you on even further, pushing you to places you didn't even think were possible. now that you knew this feeling, you might never want her to stop.

her thumb applied the tiniest bit more pressure to your clit and you could've sworn you were seeing stars. your whimpers escalated into moans. above you, breannas pants got quicker as well, she was enjoying this just as much as you were.

"so, so, good for me." she mumbled over and over again, along with simple i love yous and your name.

a second finger stretched you open, "fuck! bre!" you moaned, your head pushing back into the plush pillows that had you propped up. a series of pleas fell from your lips, feeling yourself get closer and closer to the edge.

"cum for me, pretty girl." she whispered into your ear, biting at the lobe.

thats all it took, with a string of expletives' tumbling out of your mouth with no control, you came. and it felt fucking great.

you never wanted this feeling to end, you wanted to live like this forever. breannas lips attached to yours with her fingers knuckle deep inside you.

after what felt like minutes, bre gently pulled out of you. she brought her own fingers up to her lips and licked off the layer of slick that coated them, moaning at the taste.

she straddled your lap gently, cupping your face between her hands. "thank you for this." you mumbled, bringing your own hand up to hers to run your fingers over her knuckles.

"im so happy you trusted me." she smiled, leaning in for another kiss.

[schizoidcel]

## BOOTHILL x READER ★

🤍 ﹒ HEADCANONS ! ! . .

－ notes ̽ ۪⠀written before his release + gn reader huhu. yall i swear ill get to the lcb requests but im brainrotting too fucking much right now boothill is colonizing my mind so enjoy these thoughts i had and will throw into the tags

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

He's a little spoon and NOBODY can convince me otherwise period.

We know damn well hes touch starved. So ofcourse he'd wanna be nuzzled up inbetween your chest and chin

Will teach you how to ride a horse. He definitely has a favourite (his name is Sebastian 🌚🌚)

Very protective over him though. You will not ride on that horse until you are months into the relationship

He gave you another horse to practice riding on and an extra horse incase the other "knocks your socks off" ... Whatever that means

You named them Yee and Haw and he was so conflicted with his emotions that he considered getting a routine check up on his body

Will tease you if you completely fuck up immediately.

He grabs your hands to gesture on things you should be wary about while being on the back of a horse, knowing it'll mess your brain up and lead you to not pay attention to a single thing coming out of his mouth

On the other hand if you're able to handle it in a short amount of time, he'll start flirting with you

"I'm doing it, Boo!" "Nice work, honeybunch. Think ya can manage ridin' somethin' else?" "Dude"

It's one or the other. You will not escape the Boothill down bad programm

Boothill also acts like a himbo to mess around with you.

On another note, you called him Bootyhill once and he's still shook up. Whether /pos or /neg is up to interpretation

While we're on the topic of nick/pet names, he calls you things you've never heard of before .

Or even if you did, they're things you expected never to be called 😭

What the fuck is a doodlebug Boothill

Type of man to get flustered when you flirt back. He just starts bugging out

Will play it cool though, but the faint blue on his cheeks says otherwise

Also a fan of headpats. No, he's not ashamed. No, he will not tell you.

Expanding on the no shame, Boothill takes it to the extreme

No filter, no mask, no nothing. Touchy EVERYWHERE you go

Even if he can't really feel it, he just feels more at ease when you both are near eachother or touch one another. Man wants to protect his partner, after all

It dosen't matter if you're able to protect yourself, the gesture just makes him feel more comfortable and calm

Also has a hair pulling kink woah. Let's keep it sfw everybody

Forehead kisses ❤️ or just kisses anywhere on his head in general. Kiss behind his ears and he will overheat

He let's you play with his hair<3 It's one of his favourite passtimes with you

Braid it, tie it in a ponytail, give him buns, pigtails, curl them, decorate them with hairpins, clip bows in his strands it don't matter PLAY WITH HIS HAIR ⁉️

He relaxes SO MUCH it's insane. Genuinely just one finger goes into that hair of his and he melts

This plays into the little spoon factor

You'd tease him about it but he takes pride in it 😭

Has a weird obsession with biting. If you complain that it hurts he goes "What, want me to smooch the pain away?" and he does this fuckass face :3 while you're just staring at him dead in the eye (you say yes btw)

If you're ticklish, he's hell for you

Tickles you in the most random times possible.

And you know it's even WORSE with those cold ass metalic hands

You're cuddling? The sides of your torso are not safe. You're currently occupied with an activity involving your hands? Your armpits are not safe either. He's laying on your bare stomache face down? He starts blowing raspberries.

You know damn well he uses the feathers of his hat 😭

Sticks it up your nose to make you sneeze too. Usually to wake you up or some shit

You could have the most volcano eruption alert level 5 sneeze and he'd still say "Aww, ya sneeze like a kitten!"

One last note this man is a whiney loser bottom not sorry

the word ill is in boothill for a reason the way im laying in bed all sweaty ANYway 🌚😵😵😵😵

ૢ་༘࿐ thank you for reading ! Ⳋ᧙

[crabonfire]

Engineer! cuddling you for the first time and falling asleep afterwards 🗣🗣💯🔥🔥

character: engie

note: I was reminded my a mutual that I have a fucking tumblr blog 😭😭😭 so here's uh yeah engie posting cause I miss him and also...this one goes out to u moot... xoxo...

also it's 4 am and I wanted to make this short but...yk me...I'm a yapper ☺️

also first 4 paragraphs are just a bit of backstory but you can skip that!!!

warnings: this is CORNYYYY super CHEESY so BE WARNED 🥶🥶🥶🥶

and also I'm making the reader the shy one ❤️ not engie ILL MAKE ONE WHERE ENGIE IS SHY OKKKK calm down

♡♡♡

• I had a lot of different scenarios for this but I'm choosing this one cause I feel like it fits ❤️

• It was a hard day for the both of you. Your team had suffered an embarrassing loss, with scout constantly dying to the enemy's sentries and spy getting caught by the pyro again and again. It was especially bad for you, though. You got three whole kills, a devastating drop from your usual 7.

• And Engie? He got tired of getting his sentries sapped over and over. His usually flawless strategy crumbled at the enemy spy who kept on tearing down his defenses. After he made dinner for the team, you saw him dissappear into his workshop, and not coming out at all after that.

• You tried to sleep it off, but one, you were disappointed in your performance today, and two... you wanted to see how Engie was doing.

It was, what, 2 am? 3? But who cares, right? You missed your boyfriend, and you could tell he was still awake when you walked over to his workshop and saw the light pouring out from the door.

There was no sound as you approached the door. Maybe he was asleep? You hesitated, but you opened it quietly, careful not to potentially wake him.

• But he was awake. His back was hunched over, goggles still attached firmly to his eyes. He definitely had creases in his face from how much he wore them. And that signature hardhat of his. He sat staring at- whatever contraption he was working on.

He didn't notice you, walking over and standing behind him, quietly taking a look at what it was he was so focused on. A little remote, you had never seen it before, but you assumed it had something to do with his sentries.

"What'cha working on?"

• He visibly flinched, not expecting to hear your voice. He blinked, shaking his head and turning to look at you.

"Darlin'! Ya scared me."

He chuckled, his voice was low and rasped as if he hadn't spoken or drank in a while. Now all he wore was a t shirt and more comfortable joggers, atleast he bothered to put on something softer before working.

He gave you a small smile, but you could tell from his voice and the creases near his eyes that he was exhausted.

"What're you doin' up so late? I thought you'd be asleep by now."

He commented very ironically, that smile still plastered staying even with the exhaustion written on his face. You stood there for a moment, before crossing your arms and tilting your head, mimicking that smile.

"I could ask you the same thing."

Another chuckle, this one less energetic and strained. He looked over at what he worked on, "I'm workin' on somethin' that I think will really bring us back. Its just...lots of trial and error." He looked back to you, taking off his hardhat and setting it to the side.

"But I think I'll take a break from that. Did ya need somethin' from me?"

You blinked, realizing that, you didn't really have anything to talk about or do with him. After a moment of contemplation, you shrugged and went quiet when you spoke.

"I...no, not really. I just missed you."

• You two hadn't been dating for very long at all, so admitting all this lovey dovey stuff was embarrassing. You couldn't see his expression too well, but the way his lips curled into a big smile made your knees feel weak. It was like his exhaustion faded at your words, as he fully turned back to you and hummed.

"Ya missed me, huh?"

He felt so happy hearing you say that. He couldn't help it, the sudden shyness in your tone made his heart skip a beat. "I missed you too, sugar."

• Your own lips formed a smile when he said that, and that little pet name? He could make any corny nickname into something cute. You two just stared at each other for a little bit, before he broke the silence with a small yawn.

He murmured a quiet "sorry", which made you giggle. Even if it had only been a minute or two, seeing him had already made you feel better about how your day went.

• You approached him as he sat on his chair, he stared quietly, tilting his head with a smile when you stopped and stood closely over him. You hesitated, but quickly blurted it out.

"Can we...yknow.."

You made a gesture with your hand which he couldn't help but smile at.

"Cuddle?"

It sounded so silly and embarrassing to say outloud. But you two were adults, goddammit. And you had to engage in some sort of cheesy romantic thing if this was gonna be a real thing.

He looked even more surprised then when you admitted you missed him, and somehow, his big smile grew even bigger. He nodded, chuckling once more and finding your hesitance charming.

"Of course we can, darlin'. C'mere."

• He wasn't nervous at all. Well- maybe a little. But definitely not more than you.

"How do I-"

You hovered awkwardly over his sitting form, but he only opened his arms up to you, his hand gently guiding your waist as he pulled you closer. He watched your nervous face, feeling his heart beat quicken at the way you seemed so scared to "mess up" or make him uncomfortable.

You sat down onto his lap, your chests close together as you settled your arms against his shoulders. This was the first time you two were this close. Everything else was just- a short hug or a kiss that lasted a little longer than most. You stared through the lenses of his goggles, it was a little silly but, you found the sight to be endearing. He felt the exact same.

His arms slowly wrapped around your body, making sure you were comfortable, too. You spoke up quietly, feeling a bit more nervous when you realized how close your faces were.

"Is...is this okay?" He only nodded.

"Mhm. More than okay."

• You relaxed a little bit more as you looked at his calm expression, and slowly, wrapped your own arms around him too. Feeling braver, you rested your head on his shoulder and sighed. You had been needing this. His body was so warm, so nice, like an oven.

He had been needing this too. He didn't realize how tense he had been until he calmed down from the feeling of your weight on him, his muscles could relax. He had been waiting for this, honestly. He wished it had happened sooner because if he knew how nice it would feel, he would've done it at any chance he got.

Being able to hold you felt therapeutic, felt comfortable and familiar. He leaned against the table as you settled in his lap, his eyes closed as he could hear the sound of your faint breathing. He hoped you couldn't hear the fast beating of his heart, but you secretly hoped he couldn't hear yours.

• "This is nice."

You mumbled quietly. He hummed softly in response. Your voice sounded so nice to him, so quiet, you could lull him to sleep and he wouldn't complain. He could never complain.

Instinctively, he started to rub random circles around your back, your own eyes closing at the soothing feeling.

• You'd break the silence occasionally by talking about random things that he'd be happy to answer. He was supposed to take a small break and go back to work but...you had fallen asleep. Well, how could he work if you were sound asleep on his lap, hm? Guess it would have to wait till tomorrow.

♡♡♡

was that a satisfying ending I can't tell I'm so tired OMG this was lowkey me rambling sorry for shit writing English not first language + I haven't written in so long kmg.

[sassycheesecake]

Here’s part 2 for this OS <3

It’s currently 3:24 am and you’re puking up the dinner you had earlier.

Again.

It’s been going on for two to three weeks already, you can’t keep any sort of food down, certain smells make you nauseous, you feel like you can hear people blinking.

It’s driving you crazy.

Unfortunately you have to deal with it by yourself, since your boyfriend and love of your life, Atsumu Miya, Setter of the MSBY Jackals is currently out of the country for an away game.

He doesn’t know about your ongoing illness, since he is busy with winning games and training, most of the time not being able to video call you, just checking in on you by texting.

You’re not stupid, you know what’s going on with you.

Atsumu and you were a little irresponsible when he was packing for traveling to Argentine.

Little meaning, no condom during sex. You do take birth control but you only started taking it about two months ago.

The blonde wanted to feel everything inside of you and you wanted to feel all of Atsumu, no barrier in between.

So you went to your gynecologist and got a prescription for birth control.

Just when you were finishing up after getting the indigested food out of you, you phone plays 'Problem’ by Natalia Kills, indicating that Atsumu is calling you.

Groaning in irritation, you accept it nonetheless.

"Hey baby! Wanted ta call in an’ ask how ya doin’."

"Hey Tsumu. 'M doing good, I was just sleeping." You lied.

"Oh sorry, ya wan’ me ta let ya go?" Atsumu asked with understanding.

"No it’s okay, tell me how Argentine is." You smile, while walking back to bed.

The Setter excitedly tells you all about Argentine, about the weather, the food, the people and the team he is currently training with.

A former famous Setter of a Japanese High School is now the Setter of the Argentinian national team and Atsumu complains to you about how overconfident annoying and cocky he is.

Sounds like someone you know.

All of sudden, you can feel your stomach getting upset again, nausea hitting you like a truck.

"Hold on Tsumu-" You manage to choke out before you toss your phone to the side, running to the bathroom.

On the other side of the world, Atsumu can hear your vomiting noises and it causes the Setter to worry deeply.

He lays in his hotel bed, waiting for you to come back.

After a few minutes, he can hear your footsteps approaching and taking your phone back into your hand.

"Sorry about that, I uhh… almost burned my food and the smell of smoke made me nauseous." You lie once again.

But Atsumu doesn’t believe any of it.

"Baby, I heard ya pukin‘ yer guts out. Ya sure yer fine? Did ya eat somethin' bad?" The Setter asks worryingly.

"It may have been the paella I made earlier Tsum. I‘ll be fine."

"Well if ya say so. Please keep me updated an‘ if there’s somethin‘ wrong, call me an' I‘ll be on the first flight home."

"Sure honey. Have fun and take care of yourself while you’re still there. Say hi to everyone for me."

"Will do baby, love ya."

Hanging up, you take a nice and warm shower, getting ready for bed once again.

You press Atsumu‘s pillow to your face, his remaining scent fills your nose.

You miss his stupid jokes, his strong arms that hold you in your sleep and his soft chocolate-brown eyes that shine love and warmth only for you.

Little did you know, Atsumu and his team return tomorrow already, instead of staying another week.

And Atsumu is keeping it a surprise, just as much as you have a surprise for him to tell when he comes back home.

[frvnkcastles]

hii, i hope you're having an amazing day :)

as a mentally ill peep myself, i love love your writing! plus you write frank's character so well and there are some pieces that i keep re-reading for comfort 🫶

if possible, i'd like to ask if you could write something where the reader has a really messed up relationship with her parents? like she loves them but has arguments with them pretty much every day and they have this habit of blaming her for everything, even if it's not her fault at all? i'd love to see how frank would be with the reader in a situation like that

thank you so much for all your work and sending love!!

BURN ALL THE MERCY OUT OF ME ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You have a complicated relationship with your parents, and Frank tries to support you during the toughest times.

Warnings: Verbally/emotionally abusive parents, hurt/comfort, feminine nicknames

Word count: 2k

Author’s note: Parents can suck so much sometimes. I’m really sorry you have to deal with this, anon! I’m sending you so much love too, I hope you like this <3

One thing Frank learned about you quickly was your complex relationship with your parents. When you were first getting to know each other, he bit his tongue in the belief that it wasn’t his place to be commenting on anything, but the closer that you got, the harder it became for him to stand aside and watch you get mistreated. You were such a patient, kind soul that he grew smitten with in a matter of moments, and he absolutely hated seeing the way your parents acted sometimes.

He knew families could be complicated and difficult, but still loved and important. That was the case with you, too — even though arguments with your parents were practically a daily occurrence, they were dear to you and you were unable to pull away from them. It was a delicate balance you couldn’t always manage, and as much became obvious to Frank as your relationship continued to bloom and grow.

It was something you just couldn’t get away from. Your tumultous bond had even come close to ruining a date with you and Frank, though the man had insisted he understood. Still, you still shuddered when you thought back to the night, you and him huddled up in the back of his truck with blankets and wine, and the bright, starry night sky above you for your entertainment.

It had been perfect, right up until the moment your parents started blowing up your phone.

”Sorry”, you gave Frank half a smile as you dug out your phone to turn the sound off, only to find your notifications blasted with messages from both your mom and dad. The sight made you nervous and you lingered, staring at the screen with familiar anxiety and guilt swirling in the pit of your stomach, and Frank was fast to pick up on it.

”Somethin’ wrong, sweetheart?” he questioned softly, not wanting to sound accusatory or too curious. You knew that, in fact, his gentle but gruff voice brought you solace and got you to snap out of your darkening thoughts.

”Yeah, it’s just— my mom, she’s…”, you stuttered, not sure how to even begin explaining the situation you had been dragged into, but you didn’t have the time when your phone started buzzing. ”And now she’s calling me”, you sighed, running your hand across your face as you hopped off of the truck, ”I’m sorry, I’ll be quick.”

Even though you put distance between you and Frank, the night was quiet enough for him to hear the shouting emerging from the other end of the phone. It left a heavy feeling in his chest, his jaw clenched as he watched you sniffle and shake. It made him want to hold you and shield you and push away anyone who dared to disturb the peace within you, but right now, all he could do was sit there and uneasily follow how you tried to defend yourself through the phone.

When you raised your voice, a surge of pride took over him — you really didn’t seem like the type to yell without reason, nor did you pick fights willingly, but he loved to see you at least try and stand up for yourself. It was in that moment that he realized you were used to it. This was a normal situation for you; you had already grown numb to these arguments, and that pained him immensely to understand. You deserved far better, and that was something he wanted you to hear out loud.

Once you hung up and returned to the truck, wiping your eyes and pretending like your mom hadn’t made you cry, Frank was quick to react. He helped you cuddle up to him, and once you were nestled into his arms, he took in a deep breath.

”Hey, listen, uh… I don’t wanna overstep, but ya know it ain’t right the way they treat you, right?” he noted carefully, trying to be respectful even if he felt strongly about it. He had fallen for you completely, but even if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have wanted to see you hurt by anyone — but especially not your parents.

You shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. ”It’s just how it’s always been. I know it sucks but they’re my parents”, you explained, not really sure how else to justify it. Of course, it hurt to be treated that way, but you didn’t know how to break that pattern after all these years.

”Christ, darlin’… I’m real sorry to hear that. No parent should ever be like that towards their kid. You ever wanna rant about it to me, ’m all ears”, he promised, looking down at you with sympathy shining in his eyes. It made you smile, and for the first time in a long while, you felt heard and appreciated.

Even though you felt like the date had been something of a disaster, it hadn’t scared Frank away. He stuck around, always wanting to see and hear more of you, and eventually, the string of date nights turned into sharing a bed and holding hands in public. Frank couldn’t imagine being called someone’s boyfriend, not after what he had already been and lost, but that was what he became and you couldn’t have been happier about it.

As you began dating, your problems with your parents persisted. Frank helped you set some boundaries, but that didn’t go well with your mother and father, who instantly labelled your new boyfriend as a bad influence who was trying to drive a wedge between you and your family. It wasn’t easy, trying to prove to Frank that you could do it but also maintaining the peace with your parents.

Still, like he had before, Frank tried to not get too involved — he was protective of you, but he couldn’t force you to cut off your parents. But when you came home in tears one day, he was pushed over the edge.

You slammed the door shut, hiccuping from the power of your cries, and within seconds, Frank was alerted from the bedroom where he had been changing the sheets. He knew you were going to visit your parents, and he wanted to make everything at home perfect for you to take off any excess stress, but you were back earlier than he had anticipated, which was enough to tip him off that something had gone wrong.

”Hey, hey, c’mere”, Frank rushed to your side, his arms winding around your figure to pull you into his chest. You crashed against him, sobbing freely into his shirt, and caressed your hair while softly swaying from side to side. ”Shh, sh, sh, it’s okay, sweetheart. I’m right here”, he comforted you, worry roaring inside him but he knew the most important thing right now was to calm you down before you’d spiral further.

Sniffling, you listened to the rumble of his voice in your ear and let it guide you out of the pain surrounding you. Your head throbbed from all the crying, but slowly, Frank got you to stop, the hurting still inside you but the tears ceasing their flow.

”There you go, attagirl. It’s aight. Wanna tell me what happened?” he inquired, approaching the subject caution to avoid making you cry more. Still, that innate concern and love he had for you pushed him to wonder in the hopes that he could do something to help.

”It was a mess. She was making dinner but ended up spilling the whole pot and she said it was because I distracted her. And then my dad got really mad and started yelling and next thing I know, they’re both screaming at me”, you explained with an obvious tremble in your voice, feeling so guilty. ”I just can’t do anything right, they always blame me for everything”, you added with a defeated sigh, pulling away from Frank enough to wipe your eyes and peel your coat off.

He watched you hang up your coat and take off your shoes, his anger starting to bubble up at what he was hearing. ”It ain’t your fault, baby, I promise. They’re actin’ like assholes for no reason. You do everythin’ for them and they should appreciate it so goddamn much more”, he insisted, his eyebrows knitted together and his arms folding over his chest.

”Thanks, Frankie”, you gave him a quiet smile before padding over to the kitchen for some water. He could tell you didn’t want to talk about it more, but he wasn’t satisfied.

”Alright. I’m headin’ out, sweetheart. I’ll be back shortly, promise”, he announced, pulling on his boots quickly and leaving the apartment after catching you in a deep, slow kiss. He hoped that the feeling of his lips on yours told you how much he cared about you, and how bad he felt for you, but in case it wasn’t enough, he made a quick decision to head over to your parents to speak his mind.

The whole drive there, he was seething on the inside. He had been determined not to intervene, but this was the last straw for him. He had watched them hurt you and ridicule you for months, and he wasn’t able to do it a second longer. They had a true gem in you, and the fact that they couldn’t see it drove Frank crazy. He, for one, was never going to take you for granted.

He arrived at your parents’ house and didn’t waste time in banging on the door. Your father opened it, and immediately tried to say something to protest Frank being there, but he cut him off before he could even get started.

”Nah, you listen to me. I’m gettin’ real sick of the way you’re treatin’ my girl. I want y’all to get your shit together and start appreciatin’ her for all that she does, ’cause she’s fuckin’ incredible. You don’t deserve her, but she’s willing to love you, anyway, and all you gotta do is love her back. For her sake, I hope one day she’s able to cut your sorry asses off but until then, I’mma make sure to defend her, you got that?” he raved on, feeling so hurt on your behalf. You had limitless patience for your parents and he couldn’t deny that he might have been the same way in your shoes, always one to put family first, but it wasn’t easy to watch from the sidelines.

”She’s the best thing to ever happen to me and I think it’s the same for you. So, cut her some goddamn slack, will you?” Frank finished, huffing in your father’s face before turning on his heel and stomping back to his truck. He wasn’t sticking around for a fight — all he wanted to do was stand up for you and that was that. He didn’t know if it was going to work, obviously, but he didn’t regret doing it. He felt like it had been necessary, like your parents really needed to hear it, even if it wasn’t coming from you. It was worth a shot, anyway.

He drove back home and once he made it inside the apartment, he found you curled up on the couch in front of the TV, no longer crying but clearly upset. His heart broke a little at the sight of you so sad, and he swiftly undid his boots, so that he could crawl up on the space next to you and pull you into his arms.

”Had a talk with your parents”, he spoke up, and you instinctively looked up at him, a surprised look on your face. ”Dunno if it’s gonna do anythin’, but I had to defend my girl. I feel real shitty about the way they treat you, sweetheart”, he elaborated, and slowly, a smile formed on your lips.

”You’re the best”, you whispered, dropping your head onto his shoulders. ”I know I shouldn’t let them but it’s hard to stand up to them. And it’s harder to even consider just turning my back on them”, you continued, and with an understanding nod, Frank pressed a kiss on the crown of your head.

”Yeah, baby, I know it is. You don’t gotta do anythin’

you don’t wanna. I support you either way, y’know that. I just hate to see you hurt”, he sighed, squeezing you tightly.

”Thank you. For everything. For being you”, you told him, genuine appreciation in your tone as you hugged his firm body.

Frank smiled, happy that his presence was enough to make you feel better. ”Love you, sweetheart. I got you.”

[infinitelovewiithoutfulfilmentt]

thinking abt how werewolves are somewhat messy eaters, (its in their canine genes or somethin) but when it comes to meat they absolutely tear that shit up. i could go on and on abt this and wolf behaviors but ill keep that for my drafts :3

[searchingforgravity]

Graceland Experience - PART 4

Fandom: Elvis/Elvis (2022)

Prompt: You finally have free time to try and make it back to your own time. Unfortunately, your first attempt wasn't a success. You will not be deterred

TW: None

Word Count: 1657

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! More is soon to come.

Finally, you have a moment to yourself. It has been two days since you've woken up completely disoriented in Graceland.

Since waking up, you've discovered that it is the year 1961 while casually looking at a morning paper, you have no idea how you got here, and you need to find that out as soon as possible. Everyone seems to assume you are a crazy fan with amnesia, and you are hoping to play on the amnesia part for as long as you can. Long enough, at least, for you to find a way back to your own time.

Sonny, being at the forefront of believing the crazy fan idea, is still keeping a close eye on you. Just the other day he was interrogating you, seeing if you would crack unti Elvis had to tell him to stop. You feel as if he's just waiting for you to remember everything and go crazy for Elvis. An intriguing idea. But for today, you need to figure out how exactly you got here.

As Elvis is in the jungle room rehearsing for an upcoming film, now is your perfect opportunity to figure that out. Sonny has taken up the task of keeping a close eye on you periodically. Every twenty minutes, to be exact. Which means you have around eighteen minutes to look around the living room before he gets back.

Turning your attention to the couch, you hurriedly walk over to it, feeling the exact spot you sat on about a week ago now with the palm of your hand. It doesn't feel strange; no electrical buzz that you were hoping for. You aren't sure how this whole time travel thing works, but something tells you it's going to be a little harder than how they show it in the movies. But you have no ideas. Maybe if you sit down in the same position as before, it could work? It's worth a shot.

Assuming the position you took last before you came to be in 1961, you put your head in your hands and slouch over, closing your eyes. You count to five in your head slowly before looking up and-

You look outside and see Elvis' car in the parking lot. Still 1961.

Okay, worth another shot.

You put your head in your hands. 1....2....3....4....5-

You gasp as you stumble to your feet.

Elvis is standing in the doorway watching you. Looking confused, and intrigued?

"What are you doin' there? Were you counting?"

"Uh yes!" you say too enthusiastically. Calm down, (y/n) or he's going to know something's up.

"Sorry, yes um I count when I have a headache. It slows down my breathing and sometimes helps a little."

"Oh, you're not feeling well?"

"Yeah, I -god, yeah not at all," You groan, feigning illness.

Too much, reel it in.

At this, he walks over to you. Your breath hitches as he leans forward, placing the back of his hand to your forehead.

"Oh no really it's-"

"Hush and let me see."

This immediately silences you. You can't move, you can hardly breathe as he examines you.

"Hm, maybe you are a little warm," he whispers.

A beat. You try not to look in his eyes in case you look ingenuine. Or maybe it was for a different reason.

"You said you do this when your feelin' sick. Anything else comin' to your mind?" He mumbles loud enough for your ears only and he pulls back, giving you that same look. Like a bug under a microscope.

Shit.

"N-No, well," you think. You have to give him something.

"I remember I'm not from here. I don't remember that day though where you found me, I don't know what I came to memphis for."

Was that too much information? You study his face but can't make out what he's thinking. A long moment goes by. He's too quiet, it's making you nervous.

"That's somethin'. We can talk more about it later. I'm not about to complain about a pretty girl stayin' with me. Just wanna make sure you get home safe is all," he breathes before pulling away from you.

You flush, a shock traveling through your system. You don't linger on this though as you instead choose to linger on the last thing he says. You do hope you can get home safe.

"Me too."

---

He doesn't trust you.

But right now, that might be the least of your worries. At the forefront of your mind is to find a way out of here. Surely he won't let you stay at his house forever. Also, something you hadn't considered before, how would this affect the future. Could you being here change the very course of your, or anyone's else's life? You're not sure, but you don't want to stick around to find out.

Since you don't have time today to convince someone to take you to the library, you decide you'll spend the rest of the night in the bedroom trying to figure out just how you'll do that.

Sonny has taken it upon himself to keep close watch of you, so maybe you can make up a reason why you would have to go out for the day? Or maybe you could sneak out, but then how would you get back into Graceland? This might prove harder to accomplish than you once thought. You move your hands around on the bed to look for your phone, remembering that you won't know where the library is, until you realize...

Right. 1961. No cell phones. Great.

Another troubling feeling makes its way through your body. What if you had been found in his living room that day with your ID on you. What if you had your phone. You need to get into his room, to make sure. But then, what would you do if your stuff is in his room. Your stomach churns. What would you do?

---

"Time traveler, she says. It was the craziest thing I ever heard. Called the doctor immediately. Had them take her here. I check on her sometimes out of sympathy. Still, no one's come to claim her. It's just sad," You hear Elvis say to one of the nurses in the institution.

No.

You look around and your wrists are shackled to the bed. You try to pull them free, but the resistance only causes further strain. You hiss at the pain. You look back up to the little window in the door and there stands Elvis, looking at you. Like a bug under a microscope.

"No! Please!"

Shaking his head in sympathy, he walks out of sight.

"No! Come back!"

Thrusting into a sitting position in bed, you gasp.

"Don't leave!" you yell, before realizing you were just dreaming.

Sweat is coating your body as you try to even out your breathing, curling forward as your hand flies to your chest.

Suddenly, the door flies open.

"What's going on in here! I knew you were a crazy-" Sonny barges in, completely unkempt, his hair wild as he's just sprung out of bed.

He stops when he sees you.

"Oh. You-uh, had a bad dream, huh?" He says, his hand coming to the back of his neck, embarrassed.

You try not to get annoyed, you know what protecting Elvis means to him. But you are not some crazy fan.

"Sonny, I'm not crazy! I'm not just going to remember I'm obsessed with Elvis and freak out," you snap.

You are sick and tired of him adding all this stress on you. You have enough as it is.

"Oh? Are you starting to remember things now?" He spits back sarcastically, his arms crossing over his chest defensively.

"No, I'm not, but I think I would remember if I was psychotic! Please, I'm just as confused as you, I just-" You stop, a lump suddenly forming in your throat.

You sigh, raking your hand through your hair. You don't know how you're going to convince him of anything. Tears threaten to leave your eyes.

"Hey, uh- you don't have to cry. I'm just-" he sighs, his eyes softening.

"I'm just trying to do my job. We don't even know your name, dear."

You're about to respond when someone speaks up.

"Sonny, for the love of God, can you leave the poor girl alone. What do you think, she's gonna kill me or somethin'?"

You look back up and Elvis is wiping the sleep from his eyes, clearly woken by the back and forth between the two of you.

"No, I uh- just trying to make sure-" Sonny starts before Elvis cuts him off.

"You're doin' your job, she ain't a damn threat, and you're really startin' to piss me off! Can you just get the hell to bed and stop the harrassin'?" He asks, but there's no question in his tone.

"Yeah."

Sonny huffs as he leaves the doorway, heading to his own room. After a moment of looking in his direction, Elvis turns to look at you.

"I'm sorry," he sighs, sympathy in his gaze.

It reminds you of the same look he gave you in the dream. A chill runs through you as you look away from him.

"What's wrong?"

You shake your head.

"Nothing. I just had a bad dream."

"Do you need anything? I know you must be goin' through a lot. It can't be easy."

You look up to him and he looks genuine in his question. Maybe this encounter can work in your favour. The library. That isn't a request for right now.

"I'm fine, I think I just need some sleep."

He nods, lingering for just a moment before grabbing the door knob.

"Alright. Sleep well, honey," he whispers before pulling the door closed.

You sigh as you lay back down, pulling the covers over you once more. You have a feeling you won't be getting much sleep tonight.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Tag List:

@horrorgirl4life @tantamount-treason @peaceloveelvis @sissylittlefeather @father-of-2cats @goldobsessionsworld @elvisalltheway101 @littlehoneyposts @atleastpleasetelephone @ccab @msamarican

[z-v06instance]

" NO ONE HOME, BUT THE VOID IS LOUD " a z-v06 (pressure, roblox) ask blog

you've been in blacksite long enough to confidently say you know how this place works. you learn more and more with every painful retry of the same mission: gather the crystal. so, yes, you can confidently say you understand this place, that you know how each of the creatures that lurk the halls of blacksite function. or so you think, for in front of you sits an open locker. you've seen these lockers, infested and plagued by that sickly darkness that you can feel the gaze of lingering on you. it preys upon the ones who are more idiotic than others; the ones who see its eyes and still run to it for safety. you've seen this before - you've seen all of this before. you've looked the void in the eyes, and it has felt like death. yet here you are, looking the open locker in the eyes, waiting for the suction cups of those octopus-like tentacles to latch onto you and pull you in. yet it does not try to grab you. it does not try to harm you. it simply watches you. for the first time you call out to the void. the void answers back.

for your first visit to this blog, it is recommended that you look under the cut. please note: currently this blog is on an indefinite hiatus. i apologise.

" THE VOID BREAKS US, THEN RESHAPES US. " the following sections are ooc ;; dividers by @/saradika

📼 ⎯ hey hey heyy welcome to my lil rp askblog :3 this is like. my first askblog in 5-6 years im rusty as fuck n barely remember shit. 🎬 ⎯ im the mun, itris, but haley works too! after seeing all the pressure askblogs pop up i decided to be a so called "free thinker" and make one myself. 📼 ⎯ how old am i? what's my main? what are my pronouns? what are you, a cop? i'm not tellin' you that! (all jokes aside, i only feel comfortable answerin one of these: just use it/its or ey/em!) 🎬 ⎯ considering there's like jack shit regarding the lore of the void-mass puddles (afaik), a lot of this blog will be headcanon heavy! (..mun is also neurodivergant and that may slip through so mun is sorry if it does. muse is not intended to be neurodivergant) 📼 ⎯ english is not my first language and i have dislexia so. im so sorry if shit i say doesn't make sense or my spelling is wackers 🙏 i also make up words sometimes without realising it. i am so sorry 🎬 ⎯ i dont usually use tonetags, so ask me if you need me to clarify my tone! 📼 ⎯ aaalright i think this is enough rambling. ya think it's time for us to hop onto the actual muse info?

" PLEASE, PULL ME FROM THE VOID. " this section is about the askblog. it includes muse info, rules, and anything i think is neceserry.

* buckle in, this section may be long. as if this entire thing wasnt already longer than i intended...

BLOG INFO

🌌 ⎯ this blog will contain profanity and mentions of canon typical death/violence. other possibly triggering topics may come up along the way, so please, view this blog with caution. feel free to ask me to tag things. 🔮 ⎯ please, and i mean PLEASE, no sexual stuff (i know why some of you people like tentacles). mun isnt interested in rp-ing that. the only exception are sexual jokes as long as they don't go too far. threaten to fuck the void's mom if you want! (i am not going to question how you'd be able to do that) 🌌 ⎯ ANY interaction is fine by me! feel free to interact as any muse, whether that be an oc, another pressure character, or someone from a whole other fandom! 🔮 ⎯ feel free to claim any anons and ill make a special tag for you (if you aren't on anon ill give you one too)! i may forget to tag some posts tho so if i ever do just. lemme know LMFAO 😭 🌌 ⎯ if im uncomfortable with an ask, ill delete it. but honestly there's not really much that im against. 'nd also lemme know if i ever do somethin that makes ya uncomfortable too!! 🔮 ⎯ unless stated otherwise, anyone who sends an ask will be treated as an expendable ! :3 actually on the topic of asks pls make it clear if ur ask is towards me and not the z-v06 instance otherwise ill answer ic 😭 🌌 ⎯ im alright w/ m!a's i fucking LOVE m!a's 👍 🔮 ⎯ if i randomly stop posting one day assume the void got me.

MUSE INFO [written ic, but not as the z-v06 instance]

🔮 ⎯ this instance of z-v06 answers to anything you use to refer to it. it has no sense of identity, therefore does not have a name or pronouns. it is up to you to call it whatever you'd like. though, i'm not sure if it has the ability to care. ...note to self, see if the verbal z-v06 instance is capable of emotions and feelings. 🌌 ⎯ fascinating.. the instance you've stumbled upon appears to be showing no signs of hostility. though, i'm sure that, just like the rest of the monsters that roam blacksite, if you provoke it, it may become more violent. 🔮 ⎯ it seems to be capable of remembering things you tell it. perhaps it can remember faces too.. 🌌 ⎯ not much else can be said. i suppose you'll have to interact with it in order to find out more about it.

TAGS

( OOC )⠀ ⠀||⠀ MUN HALEY ( ANON )⠀ ⠀||⠀ UNNAMED (^ the "unnamed" will be replaced by the anon name if there is one provided) ( BLOG )⠀ ⠀||⠀ [INSERT WHATEVER BLOG NAME HERE] ( IC )⠀ ⠀||⠀ WITHIN THE VOID WE ARE UNDONE ( ASK ANSWERED )⠀ ⠀||⠀ THE VOID ANSWERS BACK

tws will be tagged as 'tw [triggering thing]'

i prolly forgot some tag ideas or whatever the word is tbh so expect this to be edited 👍

LAST EDITED: 17TH SEPTEMBER 2024

[neonfretra]

PSA: please for the love of god do your research before buying pet fish

TL;DR: DO NOT REPLICATE PET STORE CONDITIONS FOR FISH.

my friend shared a picture of a pet betta fish inside a plastic cup in clear view of a pet cat trying to get it and im really upset :( i wrote a bit about fish care below the cut :)

disclaimer: my familiarity begins and ends with smaller freshwater fish, there are different needs of different fish ^_^ this is not an exhaustive list of what fish need, just some fast and loose observations to better understanding fish!

are fish right for you?

if you dont like pets you cant directly interact with (ex. pet, pick up) or cant watch do exciting things (ex. climb, play), fish might not be a good match!

when properly cared for, fish can live long and grow large (think your massive goldfish and koi), which might be more than you signed up for from first purchase! if you think you cant keep up with the needs of a big boy like that, consider a different species!

if you take death badly, block my fish husbandry tag. oh god dont even look at it.

if you think "i pay enough on the water bill," ill be real with you. a box full of water sounds like the opposite of your solution here.

stress

the big takeaway: EVERYTHING LIVES WORSE AND DIES FASTER WHEN THEY ARE STRESSED.

including you! aint that fun

the general rule of pet keeping is you um. dont want to be responsible for pet neglect <3 ignoring what your fish (singular or plural!) need easily stresses them out!

here are some big ones i see overlooked:

tapping the glass: while tapping the glass means your fish move and scatter, it also means you are scaring them! dont do that. goes out to the little ones too, please?

overpopulation: i see this one more often with fish collectors as opposed to more casual keepers. as a general rule of thumb, its a gallon to every inch of fish! you might need even more with more aggressive fish. its not their natural environment to be tail to mouth with fish, this will often increase aggression among fish for territory.

coverage: many fish need hiding spaces to feel safe. this is where decorations come in! some fish need leafy plants, others like holes to duck into. many stores will carry all sorts of cute themes and colors, just look out for rough or sharp edges!

stress cant always be avoided! this isnt life advice, i mean you gotta transport them and clean out tanks LOL

tank size

dont keep your fish in cups man. betta fish need 5 gallons minimum. male bettas are territorial and will kill each other in the same tank. its cheaper and space efficient to keep them in cups. this is unhealthy for the betta fish. please buy a tank or dont buy the fish.

you want to see your fish do more than look like a floating corpse? give them space to swim. please.

i hate to compare fish to other animals because their needs are completely different but heres something i need to stress: if the idea of keeping a dog in a cage all hours of the day sounds bad, can you imagine how this might translate to fish?

tank cleanliness

dont play with stagnant water.

dont make YOUR PET play with stagnant water. get a water filtration system to keep your water cycling.

depending on the tank size and the fish you keep, expect to change anywhere from 10-20% of the water like. ehhh a month LOL. theres stuff for that you can buy! this goes great with any plants you might keep!

water gets nasty when anything lives in it 24/7. i would not live in a swimming pool myself, no.

if you dont think it sounds possible for you to do yourself, what are friends for! dont pull anything moving that water, lift with your knees, not your back.

i personally feel this is where most of the upkeep in fish husbandry comes from. if you got this down, youll be set for long term! :)

also, algae is actually a good sign! your tank is a good environment for life to grow and some fish eat it, you can also just. stick somethin in there and take it out if the growth gets too much, its not too hard

tank mates

some fish are aggressive. some are community fish! some even school! do your due diligence trying to find what fish are compatible. (your safest bet will always be similarly sized communal fish)

dont get any kind of fish that are too small! they will get eaten.

often you will come across advice on ratios of sex of one species. this is because male fish may:

harass each other for territory

harass female fish and stress them out (more females mean the attention is more widely spread)

some fish thrive with their own species, they are called schooling fish! the amount of fish in a school changes by species

other fish will kill each other. dont put two male bettas in a tank.

other fish may be beneficial for your wider tank health! bottom feeders are a personal favorite fish of mine :)

sometimes, you can even have other kinds of animals cohabiting! :) snails, shrimp, frogs are all possibilities! (cant do frogs myself, tank too deep) (there are some genuinely gorgeous shrimp though)

again, the amount of fish you have should be proportional to your tank size. dont get too many fish for a tank, you will run into overpopulation issues

out of tank mates matter too! please be considerate of your other pets and whether they can do stunts like hit the tank or fall in.

conclusion

fish are great pets! theyre gorgeous and honestly a great if stressful (<3) experience personally! but they are pets and not props that need to be properly looked after if you want your fish happy and healthy.

do your research before buying a fish and it will save you a lot of grief and surprise! its a fairly well covered hobby, i can promise any question you have was probably answered in a forum five years ago. again, im just a tumblr blog with one fishs experience.

if you buy a betta fish please dont keep them in the cup you buy them in, i might cry for real this time.

[sashaisready]

The Blood Pact: Chapter 2 - Will it hurt?

Bucky Barnes Vampire AU x Female Reader

Reeling from a bad break-up, you're desperately trying to find a new place to live but the Brooklyn rental market is a complete nightmare. You take a chance on an intriguing newspaper ad and enquire about a room in a shared house, where you'd be living with two mysterious men. The catch is that they want something other than your money for you to pay the rent...the one thing they don't have

Warnings for details of vampire biting/drinking blood in this chapter

Series Masterlist

Chapter 3

“So here’s the deal” Bucky started. “We only need to feed every 1-2 days. We can alternate so you don’t get two feedings in the same day. If you ever don’t want to, or you’re sick, you can refuse - but if you refuse too much we’ll need to terminate the arrangement as you’re not holding up your end of the deal”.

You nodded, watching them from your sanctuary on the sofa. You could barely believe you were still here, talking contract details for your potential new life as a human blood bank for supernatural beings. 

“You’re free to come and go as you please in the house, decorate your room however you like. The place is all yours in the daytime as that’s when we sleep. All we ask is that we feed in the evenings at a pre-arranged time. And you’re not a prisoner of course, if you want to go out or have plans we can be flexible and arrange an alternative”.

“How much blood will you take?” You ask shyly. 

“Enough to satiate us, but not enough for you to struggle or get sick” Steve replied. “The worst you’d feel is a little tired right after”.

“Would…would it be through here?” You asked, your fingers ghosting along your neck. 

Steve shook his head. “Neck is a pretty intimate area. This is a business arrangement so we tend to stick to wrist, or a thigh”.

“Neck is too intimate, but thigh isn’t?” You scoffed. You seemed to be doing that a lot tonight. 

They both laughed at that. 

“It’s a good spot” Bucky interjected. “Lots of veins, not too sensitive for you, no marks left visible to the outside world”.

Christ. You hadn’t thought about the marks they’d leave. 

“That’s why you asked about drugs and my medical stuff, right? To make sure my blood was clean?”

They nodded. 

“Intoxicated blood is a no no. We avoid drug users” Steve explained. “It messes us up, it tastes bad. Alcoholic blood isn’t great either, but it’s doable once in a while”.

“So we just ask that if you wanna get wine wasted or drink your little cocktails or whatever - that you do it after dinner” Bucky mocked.

You seethed internally, but didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“And I guess you only want healthy blood, nothing with disease or illness?” 

“That’s the optimum, yes” replied Steve. 

“Do…do you…I mean, what about if you don’t want my blood? What if it’s not what…you like?” You asked hesitantly, almost laughing out loud at the fact you’re feeling insecure about how your blood might taste.

They looked at each other, then back at you again. 

“That won’t be a problem” Steve said confidently.

“How can you be sure?” You pressed. “What if I agree to this and you hate the taste of my blood and I have to move out?”

“We can smell you, Doll” Bucky grinned. “You know how you can tell a meal is going to be good based on how it smells in the oven?” 

You were embarrassed, completely caught off guard by his admission. As horrified as you were, a small part of you felt a pang of lust as you listened to him talk about you like that. You clenched your thighs together and felt your face heat up at the very idea. 

“And…that” Bucky said breathily, his expression twisting into something resembling desire as he pointed at your face. Steve was looking at you in the exact same way. 

It took you a moment but you realised he meant you feeling flushed. They must have advanced eyesight to have caught it.

“Oh…” you replied quietly, unsure of what to say. 

“We can’t do that like you can, obviously” Bucky explained. “Something about seeing a hint of your blood under the surface like that…it drives us wild. It’s almost like a tease, yknow?”

He looked slightly wild with hunger. You pressed your hands to your cheeks, self-consciously trying to cool them down. You felt both their gazes on you. 

Another tiny thrill soared through you.

“How do I know you won’t lose it and kill me?” You asked. “I’ve seen the movies. Vampires lose their shit at a bit of blood and go wild. What if you get carried away and drink too much?”

They both laugh as if you’ve told the world’s funniest joke.

“First thing to know is that it’s not like the movies” Steve tells you kindly. “I mean yeah the general stuff is there - blood drinking, no sunlight yada yada yada. But a lot is thrown in just to make movies more interesting. We’re not feral. We can control ourselves. Bucky and I don’t like to hunt humans, we think it’s uncivilised. We feed in other ways that don’t harm people - like this arrangement”.

You nod, suddenly fascinated. 

“Amongst our community and friends there are a network of human familiars, vampire enthusiasts if you like, who donate blood to our kind. That gets traded around and stops us killing people. A lot of us feel the same way. We don’t need that much blood to be fed.  So there’s no need for an animalistic display where we get carried away and kill.” Steve explained. “As long as we are feeding regularly, we are docile and harmless. Practically human”.

“No offence Doll but I doubt your blood is so good that it makes us lose all civility” Bucky added smugly, his tone mocking. 

You glared at him indignantly.

“What Bucky means is…” Steve, ever the peacekeeper, interjected. “You’re safe with us”.

You eyed them both suspiciously. 

“So you and your friends don’t hurt people…but does that mean there are vampires out there who do?”

They looked at one another.

“Yes” Steve said reluctantly. “There are less of them out there than there used to be. Most vampires understand that killing isn’t the only way. But there are some who…prefer the older traditions, shall we say”.

You flinched, the horror of that revelation sinking in.

“Hunting and killing also puts us at risk” Bucky added. “These days everyone has a high spec camera in their pocket at all times. Unless you’re somewhere very remote there’s a risk of being spotted or exposed. If you’re caught on film then the police might start asking questions, and you have to move and start over. And then you never know what kinda blood you’re drinking, if they’re sick or on drugs or something. You might underestimate their strength and get hurt in the struggle. Feeding this way is safer for us, and more reliable. Sometimes it’s better to eat at home than risk a new restaurant when you don’t know their hygiene rating”.

You grimaced at his metaphor.

“How do I know this isn’t all an elaborate ruse to keep me calm and you’re moments away from draining and killing me?”

“Well, you don’t” Bucky fired back. “You don’t know us. Don’t trust us yet. You just have to take our word for it. Or you’re free to leave”. His eyes were cold, examining you with a hint of contempt. 

You just glared right back again. Bucky was really starting to get on your nerves with that tone of his.

“Think of it this way” added Steve. “It’s a much more valuable arrangement for us to keep you alive and feed from you regularly, than feed from you once and kill you. That’s just not logical”.

You swallowed slightly, chilled at how casually he talked about the prospect of killing you. “Yeah. That’s…pragmatic I guess”.

“Do you have any more questions?” asked Steve. 

You thought for a moment, the heat from the fire making you feel a bit lightheaded. You had thousandsof questions of course. Your head was spinning with all of this information. But you couldn’t stay there all night, so you asked the most important one.

“Will…it hurt?” You asked weakly. 

Your eyes found Bucky who once again was smirking at you. God, he did that a lot. Such an ugly look for such a beautiful man. Or…not man as the case may be. You wanted to smack that patronising little smirk off his face. 

“A little” said Steve. “We won’t lie, it can be a bit painful. But it doesn’t last long. And it can be…nice”.

“Nice??” You choked. “How could sharp teeth biting into my skin possibly feel nice?”

“I can show you” Bucky purred. 

He got up from his seat and stalked towards you. You suddenly felt very small, the weak antelope who had strayed from the herd and been left in the path of a lion. His eyes glowed in the light of the fire as he made his way over to you. You could really see how tall he was now. How much bigger than you. You gulped silently, practically trembling. 

And you had never felt a thrill like it. 

“May I?” Bucky asked, gesturing you your wrist. 

You nodded dumbly, unable to believe this was really happening. Were you really willingly handing yourself over to this vampire? Were you insane? Had you suffered some sort of brain injury during the house tour?

But you didn’t feel fear. Not really. You were anxious, your stomach flipped with anticipation - but mainly you were…excited. You were drawn to Bucky like a moth to a flame in a way you couldn’t explain. It felt instinctive, base. You’d felt a similar tug towards Steve, but nothing quite like this. 

Bucky gently gripped your hand, his icy fingertips digging into your palm as he turned your wrist to face him. He pulled your sleeve down to your forearm and traced a frigid fingertip over your veins. You shuddered slightly at both the coolness and the intimacy of the act. 

He leaned over, his lips brushing your skin tenderly as he found his spot. You felt goosebumps ripple across your flesh.

“You ready?” He asked, turning to face you and check for your consent. Once again his eyes seemed to cut through you entirely, as if they were too strong for you to look directly into. 

You nodded hesitantly, then stared back down at your wrist as you waited.

Bucky moved back into position and once again his mouth rubbed along the inside of your wrist as he found where he wanted to be. His fingers wrapped around your arm, holding you in place. You realised you were holding your breath. 

And then - a sharp sting. 

Your face contorted in pain as you felt his fangs sink into your flesh. And you could really feel them. You could feel each of them as they broke the skin and forced their way into your vein below the surface. You gasped and inhaled as you tried to steady yourself, your eyes watering at the pain. It was like an electric shock through your body, pain radiated through every nerve. Bucky must’ve noticed your discomfort but didn’t stop, he just held onto your arm tighter, not letting you pull back. You'd made a terrible mistake, this was how you were going to die. You should never have trusted them...

You were just about to scream at him to get off and push him away when the strangest thing happened…

The pain was gone. There were slight aftershocks from the sting, but they were becoming fainter by the second. You could only hear a gentle suckling sound. You began to feel lightheaded and dazed, but it wasn’t unpleasant. A soft haze overcame you as you felt your eyelids droop and the rest of you go slack. Bucky’s other arm jumped up and steadied your shoulders as your body began to go limp. You slumped your head back against the couch, lost in the fog. Your mind was suddenly empty, you had no thoughts - no anxieties. You just sat there dreamily, giving yourself over. You hadn’t felt peace like it in years. You peered down at Bucky, a mass of dark hair crouched over your arm as the suckling noises continued. You looked up at Steve who just smiled at you, so you drunkenly smiled back.

“Not so bad, huh?” Steve grinned.

You couldn’t form a reply. Your eyes were so heavy now, you closed them just for a moment. 

“Doll? Doll? You still with us?” Came a voice, so rudely interrupting you. 

Your eyes flung open and you were greeted by Bucky who was watching you carefully. Your vision was bleary but you could see a tiny trail of red at the corner of his mouth. 

You looked down at your wrist, the same as it always was except now with the addition of two small puncture wounds. You stared at them with fascination before Bucky wiped at them with some of antiseptic and covered the area with a small bandage. The strange haze had now lifted and you met his eyeline once again. 

“Where do I sign?” You whispered.

[lunar-years]

do you have any hurt/comfort jamie fic recs? looking for physical injury in particular, but i’m a sucker for emotional hurt/comfort too :)

of course! here u go

Gen -

held onto hope (like a noose, like a rope) by scarlettroses - tw James Tartt Sr. abuse; emotional hurt/comfort and it's heavy but it's so good! Jamie's dad is very ill and Roy & Keeley etc. help him through that.

My troubles are all over, and I am at home by Vamillepudding - tw James Tartt Sr./canon-typical abuse; canon divergence where Roy sees Jamie and his dad in the boot room during the season one finale, instead of Ted

The Hedgehog's Dilemma by @kvetchinglyneurotic - tw James Tartt Sr./canon typical abuse; season one canon divergence where Jamie's dad calls him and insists he come up to Manchester, right after Jamie got benched. Roy worries about where he's at and then we go on a fun speedrun of character development & friendship :)

every emotion that i'm meant to express by @babytarttdoodoo : Jamie has a panic attack during Mom City and Roy & Keeley help him through

Lemons and Lavender by LivingProof - tw James Tartt Sr.; a car accident puts Jamie in the hospital, his dad comes to see him but luckily Roy and Ted are close behind

Roy/Jamie -

I Get By With a Little Help by @belmottetower - tw rape facilitated by James Tartt Sr.; Jamie rape recovery hurt/comfort with, as the tags imply, much more comfort than hurt. There is also a second part with even more comfort :)

Somethin' Stupid by @catalogercas - appendicitis on the bus to an away game! oh no! Not yet complete but chapter 2 of 3 was posted today and it is amazing.

Falling Up by @catalogercas - amnesia!Jamie. all that from doing headers with Phoebe :( it's not super angsty and in fact is very cute. Jamie even meets the yoga mums in the funniest way. incredible content.

i watched the world without knowing what to look for by buckstiel -future fic about the injury that ends Jamie's career

Roy/Jamie/Keeley -

the body of someone you love by @goodmorninglovelies42 - Jamie gets into a minor car accident and needs stitches, Roy does not handle this well

Love Me For Who I Am (Where I Am) by pepperlandgirl4 - Jamie is injured during a match and it results in temporary amnesia shortly after rjk all get together

Chase All The Ghosts From Your Head by @valonia47 - tw for implied homophobia; Jamie is beat up by a crazy City fan at a nightclub with plenty of comfort afterwards from Roy, Keeley & his mum <3

bruised like violets by inlovewithnight - tw stalkers/kidnapping - Jamie gets abducted and it's very scary for everyone involved... but luckily there is a happy ending and lots of comfort! :)

the blood in your mouth, I wish it was mine by inlovewithnight - tw non-con, Rupert Mannion; I feel like i put this on every rec list lmao but i truly do love it. very dark but the rjk comfort is sooooo my everything

they threw me a whirlwild and I spat back the sea by inlovewithnight - tw abuse/semi-graphic description of hand injury; James Tartt Sr.'s mates pay Jamie a visit, Jamie calls Keeley (and by extension, Roy) to help get him to the hospital

no amount of coffee, no amount of crying by shampoobaby - allergies!! classic sickfic, Jamie has hay fever :( poor bb

P.S. If you are one of these authors and I have not tagged your tumblr it simply means I do not know it, but please drop me a comment or message if you'd like and I will update the list with your blog accordingly :)

[moghraidhs]

[ sick ] for you know exactly what au I'm rabid for

swiftyyy <3 your enthusiasm for this au is definitely feeding mine :))

Alphas don’t get sick.

It was his dad who had said it first. Gale remembers it like it was yesterday; twelve years old and shaking so bad it felt like his bones were going to rattle right through his skin.

His ma had stood at the bedroom door, wringing her hands. I don’t understand. The doc said the suppressants were supposed to help, not make him ill. Maybe–

Goddamnit, be quiet! His dad’s voice echoed through the small room. He’d walked over, sat by Gale’s bed, grasped his shoulders. Now you look at me. Alphas don’t get sick. This is just somethin’ you have to go through. It’ll toughen you up. Then when you get older’n meet an omega, you can take it out on her. But you’re not sick. You hear me?

His ma had been crying. Gale didn’t want her to get hurt. So he’d nodded. And when the urge to tear the whole room apart blazed under his skin, he’d dug his nails into his palms until he bled.

Years later, and the words still echo in his head, even if there’s no one there to say them. It’s worse now, though, because he’s not alone.

“I got you some water.”

Gale turns his head. John is standing in the doorway. Ruts make scents about ten times sharper than they normally are, and the air around him is heavy, a mixture of both concern and fear. Gale’s not sure which makes him feel worse.

“You should go.” His voice comes out wrecked, like the air’s being choked out of him.

John shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Goddamnit–”

Goddamnit, be quiet!

Gale almost flinches at the sound of his own voice. He’s not here. He’s not. Though he might as well be, considering the fire raging inside. The push to destroy everything in sight.

Hell, his dad would have done that anyway, rut or no rut. But Gale is not him, and if it means bleeding himself out to keep John safe, then so be it.

“Just go. I’ll be fine.” A sharp stab of pain nearly blinds him, and it takes a few seconds for him to breathe through it. “I’ve done this before, alright? You don’t need to worry.”

There’s silence for a while, long enough that Gale thinks John has listened to him and gone. Then the bed creaks as a weight settles on it.

Gale opens his eyes, heart hammering in his chest. “Don’t…”

Dark blue eyes look down at him. A hand rests over his, trembling just a little.

“You won’t hurt me,” John says quietly.