#my hands just DON'T GO THE RIGHT WAYS all the lines end up jagged and wrong and i can't make any of it right and i FUCKING HATE IT

[snaret]

WHY IS DRAWING SO FUCKING HARD I NEED TO KILL EVEYTHING

[mochinek0]

Daminette December: 30-Dressed to Impress

Everyone in Gotham Academy knew that Marinette was beautiful. She wasn't one of the wealthier students, but she seemed to attract everyone with her smile.

Damian glanced down the hall, only to see Marinette Dupain-Cheng getting asked out again. He didn't see what was so special about her. He turned back down the hallway he had just came from, deciding to take the longer route to class.

'Why the hell is she getting asked out again? She should just pick one and end everyone's suffering.'

"You should have said yes." he heard someone tell her, "You're going to the Wayne Gala. You'll need a date."

'So she will be there as well. I wish Father would keep annoyances like her out of the event. Likely she will try to speak to me and react badly when I refuse.'

Damian stared as he recognized Marinette at the gala. She had a ombre dress that was dark in the middle and spread out to pink, with her hair in an intricate design. The difference startled him. The Marinette he saw at school was more relaxed. Damian had a hard time refocusing.

'I cannot grasp the change. She is not more attractive this way, but she is alluring at the same time. Her appearance has brought forth many of her features: her eyes appear bluer and she appears to hide her muscles.'

It took him a few moments to recognize she was standing next to Jagged Stone. Even from his distance, he could hear the rock star raving about Marinette being his personal designer and how talented she was.

"BUG!" a voice shouted.

Damian watched as a blonde boy ran up and hugged Marinette. She looked tiny in his arms. Damian just glared, waiting for her to shove him away.

"Don't yell that here!" she shouted at him, "This isn't the place for that! You could have scared someone and caused a disaster!"

From behind Jagged, a boy with ombre blue hair grabbed Marinette's hand and kissed it. It only instigated a fight with the blonde, where he took her other hand and kissed it. He watched as Marinette sighed, in what he could only perceive to be annoyance. Then began the whispers.

"Wow."

"Damn, so that's why I got rejected."

"Me too."

"So, which one do you think is her boyfriend?"

"The blonde seemed more excited to see her."

"But the other guy just swooped in and kissed her."

"Maybe they both are?"

If anything, the whispers dug the way into the young Wayne's brain.

'These idiots are the reasons for the rejections? They are why I have to hear people asking her out constantly?'

Damian growled as the trio began to laugh.

"Come." Bruce spoke, "I have some people I want you all to meet."

Damian followed, only to realize they were going over to Jagged Stone and his party.

"Jagged!" Bruce called out in his overly friendly tone.

"Brucie Boy!" Jagged shouted, hugging his old friend.

"You know Jagged Stone?" His brothers shouted.

"Know him?" Jagged laughed, "Bloke threw absolute ragers in college! His parties have toned down now but let me tell you-"

"Jagged, you said you have kids. Do you want your kids at those kinds of parties?" Bruce interrupted, hoping to get his point across.

Jagged rolled his eyes, "Alright. Luka is my boy. My daughter is with her wife, back in Paris." placing his left hand on his shoulder and then placed his right hand on the girls shoulder, "Marinette is my adopted niece and rockin' designer."

"Wait!" cried Tim, "You made his album cover?"

"And me clothes, Mate. What we're wearing right now is her exclusive clothing line." Jagged bragged.

"Your work is high quality for your age." Bruce declared, "Oh, right. Jagged you know my adopted boys: Dick, Jason, and Tim. This is my biological son, Damian." shoving him to the front.

Jagged cackled, "Looks just like you!"

Damian watched as Marinette blushed red and quickly looked down. Adrien caught the look and started laughing.

"You had no idea, did you?" he laughed.

"Oh, shut up!" she growled at him, "I didn't even know who you were and I follow fashion!"

"Ouch." Adrien smiled.

"You know my son?" Bruce asked, looking between them, praying nothing bad had happened already.

"Uh, I wouldn't really say I personally know. I've seen him at school." she replied.

"Yes, the Queen of Broken Hearts." Damian stated.

Marinette crossed her arms and glared at him, "Says the Ice Prince of Gotham."

The Wayne looked at each other, seeing it looked like the two were about to do battle.

"Broken Hearts, huh?" Luka teased, "Damn, even here, you're pulling people."

Marinette rolled her eyes and faced the blonde.

'So, she doesn't like the attention.'

"We both tried our luck with her, but ultimately failed." Adrien smiled, "Don't let us fool you though. She can pull girls, too."

"I'm not looking for romance right now!" Mari whined.

"At least you have options lined out the door for when you do." Luka smirked.

"We'll volunteer again." Adrien smiled.

Mari smacked them both in their chests.

"You both are dating, each other." Marinette cried out, "Adrien, you're practically family."

The boys looked at each other and smiled at her, "We don't mind a third, if it's you." they declared.

"I hate you both." Mari pouted, "You're both perfect for each other."

Jagged laughed, "I love having another musician in the family. Luka, when are you making Adrien my son-in-law?"

The boys turned red, while Marinette giggled.

"Why don't you and Bruce's boy go dance?" Jagged suggested, shoving her forward towards the Waynes.

"You want me to step on his foot?" she questioned.

"Bug, you dance flawlessly." Adrien spoke, "I don't know why you say you can't. Even Felix agrees with me and he's had years of dance recitals."

"Is that so?" Damian asked, grabbing her wrist, "Let's find out."

Marinette glared at Adrien, as she was dragged away, "No crossaints for you!"

"So what did you mean?" Damian questioned, as they began to dance.

"My family are bakers." She spoke, glancing down at her feet quickly, "He always asks me to make him some when he's not with my parents."

Damian tilted her face to look at his, "Baker, fashion designer to rockstars, college student. Is there anything you can't do?"

"Love." she whispered.

"Same." he answered.

Marinette focused on his facial features, gaining his curiosity.

"What?" he questioned.

"You're attractive." Mari stated.

Damian faltered for half a second, not expecting her bluntness.

"That's it?" Damian asked, suddenly expecting more of a compliment.

Mari huffed, "It's not like you want my opinion or actually care what I think. Besides, You seem like the type of person to look at someone as a whole."

"Explain." Damian spoke, trying to see her reasoning.

"You don't care if someone looks good. You care about actions. You care about your safety and making sure you're not hurt in the end. You're not going to entertain somoene who wants to marry you for your money. You want someone real and as real as you." Marinette declared.

The young Wayne was so enthralled with her words, he hadn't realized how close she was to his face.

"I, personally, hate rumors and tend not to believe them." she stated, "I can find out for myself if someone is trustworthy or just another liar. It's the same with fashion; people are more two-faced then Harvey Dent and just try to take the easy way to the top, usually with a drink or a bed."

Marinette pulled away and walked off, back to her company.

Damian stood there, rooted to the spot. As he gained his thoughts and walked away, he could hear the whispers.

"Is she dating Damian Wayne?"

"Fuck! I'm never gonna get her now!"

"What about me, huh? What about my chance with Damian?"

"What chance did you think you had? Obviously, she looks better."

"I can't believe you'd say that!"

"I don't know. He is the Ice Prince."

"And she's the Queen of Broken Hearts; your point?"

"Maybe she's out of his league. Queen and a prince?"

Damian smirked, getting an idea.

'Perhaps, this time, being close to a classmate would not be a bad thing. If I stay near her, I would not have to hear people asking her out. It would not clutter the hallways and I would not be late to class. I would not have to hear her name mentioned constantly around the school.'

The young Wayne looked back to see the blonde on his knees, hugging her legs. Marinette looked exasperated, while Jagged and his son laughed at the scene.

'He looks desperate. I wonder if her baking rivals Alfred's to make him put on that display.'

"So, Little D, what do you think?" Dick asked, hoping to hear his decision on the girl.

"Adequate dancer. Adequate conversation." The young Wayne stated, " I may have just solved an ongoing issue. Excuse me."

"Huh?" Tim questioned.

"Did the brat just compliment her?" Jason asked.

"I believe your brother did compliment the young lady." Bruce replied.

"Marinette." Damian spoke, standing in front of her, "I believe it would be fortunate for the both of us if we declared a relationship."

Damian watched as her cheeks turned red, at an alarming rate. Her party seemed stunned by his declaration.

"But you...why?" Mari finally asked, "From our conversation-"

"We both hate people surrounding us and the attention we bring about." Damian interrupted.

"Us dating....would get people to stop." Marinette concluded.

"Mari." Adrien spoke up.

"You are asking me to....fake date you, so you don't get asked out, but by extension, neither will I." Mari declared.

Damian nodded, "Correct."

"Sure." Marinette smiled, "You got a deal."

"What?" Cried the boys with her.

"Oh, and expect a care package. My boyfriend can't dress like that. The design doesn't suit you. I'll make sure my clothes do." she declared.

Damian bowed and walked back to his family.

"What was that?" Asked Tim.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng is now my girlfriend. " the youngest Wayne announced.

They were silent for a moment, but Jason broke the tension.

"Guess she impressed the brat." He stated

'Impressed? Perhaps.'

Damian looked back towards Marinette. He wouldn't have just chosen anyone to be in a relationship with, even if it was just for appearances. 

@maribat-calendar-events

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[purpdrawsthings]

Hey wdym it's been like 24 days since that one post I made that was like to draw ppls Me Puzzles' ?... Oh.

I'M SO SORRY FOR LEAVING Y'ALL HANGING FOR ALMOST A MONTH GUHHHHHH

Immediately speed running since yesterday and today. Yes that meant I didn't even do anything for more than 20 days. I'm a lazy person you see 💥💀

Guess the Spotify music motivated me so hard I decided to speed run ig let's go?

Anyways enough yapping I know thats what y'all don't wanna read or see about rn y'all wanna see the JUICY Puzzles I drew right???

Anyways have them + how I think about them =D

Btw these weren't meant to be coloured.

First up, @fluffygiraffe 's PJ!

We got the silly Puzzles that was first to comment on the post! Hihi Fluffygiraffe. Idk anything about this Puzzles but I just gotta say I love the way you draw in a fuzzy and almost comforting art style and also PJ's design is very very cute thank you for the Puzzles 💜

Second, @emeraldsk 's Complete Puzzles!

Wait.. I've seen this man before... Hmmmmmmmmmm oh nvm. /silly anyways, I like the design! It's quite nice and the way the colours are arranged are done quite nicely. Overall, this Puzzles is approved by yours truly 💜

Third, we got @mrtophat518 's Grudge Puzzles!

Ono we got an edgy Puzzles chat get away /silly anyways, I've read the entirety of the whole Grudge Puzzles AU blog just today! I love that one time he broke the literal fourth wall and cracked the screen, that was a really nice surprise. [Thanks Micheal for fixing the glass with a new one we owe you something 💥] overall, the story is very enteresting and very VERY intriguing! I'm hoping to see how this progresses! Oh and also I love the puffy sleeves, those are literally my favourite, thank you for putting that on your Puzzles teehee it was fun 💜

Fourth, we got @bidinonsense 's Virus Puzzles!

I appreciate Alex for sending this in with their submission! The design is quite interesting to say the least! [Ooooooo funny sharp thingys.. Demon Puzzles... Ough....] I like how the mouth has a jagged line to represent sharp teeth ig, the 1 and 0 on the eyes are quite interesting! I think it kinda makes sense for a virus themed Puzzles? But overall, the design is interesting! Btw, I wonder if this is an au, if so.. I wonder how it works hehe... Oh anyways, thanks for the silly man! 💜

Last but not least, @alex-dolmatescu2-0 's Darkness Puzzles!

Ooooooooo, hello very... Handsome Puzzles... /silly /hj anyways, I've seen this Puzzles before! Saw a couple of posts about this guy and overall he seems pretty intriguing. The wings are a really cool concept, especially with the RGB colored looking wing! I really like drawing wings so thanks for giving me an excuse to draw one. Oh and the designs nice! Quite recognizable if you ask me. Anyways, approved! 💜

Special mention, @tsucacatenma 's Fallen Star Puzzles!

Yep, bonus Puzzles! For the past few days this person has been mentioning me on their posts about this particular Puzzles, and honestly, I love it! I love messy designed OCS like these that fill up space even tho ppl can't see shit. [That was a compliment 💥] the monocle was very nice, made him look a bit ✨ b r i i s h ✨ he truly is a very nice gentleman and definitely won't try to murder the SMG4 crew again. Btw the hand things coming out are very cool, I very likey. Anyways other than that, hope ur happy for this silly surprise teehee 💜

Anyways, that's about all! Last thing before we end this off, sorry for the long wait! I almost forgot this existed and during days I DID remember I just didn't get the motivation to work on it cuz I was scrolling through YouTube shorts or smth. I won't sugarcoat it, I'm a lazy ass =']

Anywaysssssss that's all buh bye! Hope I post or smth idek I'm working on smth but I'm not sure when it finished wait why am I still yapping OAHDISGXIXHDKDBPXBDPFBFOFBOFB

Yeetus

[ribread03]

Dance Party! M.Sturniolo x Reader

Bread talk: I came up with this idea while writing my Nick Sturniolo head cannons.. so yeah. I hope you like this... A HUGE thank you to @6ix9inewiturmom with helping me pick out songs for this. ILY thank you. Also this is a LOOOONG one.

WC: 2597 [just stick with it]

CW: Smut, cursing, unprotected sex [wrap before you tap], idk what else honestly. let me know if I missed anything important..

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"Don't ya wish your girlfriend was hot like me?" Nick sings loudly with the music.

"Don't ya wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?" You're singing the next line of the song.

"Dont Cha" by the Pussycat Dolls plays loudly in the kitchen of the triplets house. Me and Nick dancing our hearts out not having a care in the world of what we look like to the outside eye.

Dancing and laughing with Nick and you spin around the kitchen, bumping into him every once and a while. Rolling your shoulders to the beat of the song. Moving your hips in a sexual way not thinking about anything but you a Nick.

"I probably be just as crazy about you if you were my old man" Both of you singing this line together. While you point at Nick with your finger.

Laughing as the song ends and the next one comes on. You look over the the couch and see Matt sitting there on his phone. Looking over at Nick you now see Chris behind him.

Cheering as the next song starts because it's one of your favorites. "Get Low" by Lil Jon feat. Ying Yang Twins comes on. You start to sing the song. Getting low when it says to get low still singing.

"Till the sweat drops down my balls!" You sing loudly in the house.

"Let me see you get low you scared you, scared you." Chris now singing the part of the song. Dropping down to the floor at this point you bounce back up shaking your ass.

Still singing the song still you move your hips to the left and to the right when that part of the song comes on, wiggling when they song says so.

"To the window, To the wall!" All three of you sing. Pointing to to the window and the wall.

You now feel someone behind you. Knowing the only other person that could have joined you guys would be Matt. The lyrics "Bend over to he front touch toes back dat ass up and down and get low" come on and you do that as you have been with the rest of the song.

Not realizing how close Matt really was to you. You end up hitting his crotch. Him immediately grabbing your hip so you don't rub against him, but you do anyway. You know what you are doing to him. You and Matt have always had a flirty relationship, agreeing that you guys where just friends. Everyone knew that you both kinda liked each other or thought the other one was cute.

Plastering a smile on your face when you feel Matt grip your hips tighter when you directly rub up against his growing boner. Backing up a little more when the same lyric is said again.

The song now ending you step forward going to make away from Matt but his hands are still on you. He quickly pulls his hands away from you and moves them to cover the small bulge that is now in his pants.

The next song starts with some whistling. "Moves Like Jagger" is now playing over the speakers. You start to jump up and down to the beat of the song. Spinning in a circle as you sing the song. Nick and Chris in their own world dancing with each other.

You feel hands on your shoulders stopping you from dancing. You huff and turn your head seeing Matt's faces close to your ear. You can feel his hot jagged breath on your neck as he talks.

"Wanna see my moves?" He pauses for a sec, but continues when you don't move. "They're just like Jaggers."

Now spinning to face him, he winks and walks off to his room. Leaving you there to finish dancing thinking about what he has just said to you.

~~

Knocking on Matt's door it quickly opens and he pulls you inside. Gasping at the sudden jolt you lose your balance falling right into Matt's chest. You are thinking about whether or not it was a good idea to come down here.

Matt chuckling, he looks at you. You now realize how long you have been standing holding onto his shirt in silence. Stepping back from Matt you look up. "hi." You speak at almost a whisper.

"hey." He says back almost as quite as you.

The tension in the room is so thick you could see it. The dim lights of Matt's room not helping. The mood seems to be set, his bed has silk sheets on it, paired with a matching quilt.

You finally decide to speak up about what Matt had said to you 5 minutes prior. "What's with this 'wanna see my moves' thing?" You question, seriously not knowing what he was talking about.

Matt sits and stares at you for a few seconds before finally taking two steps towards you, grabbing your face and planting his lips on yours. You are shocked at his sudden action. You slowly start to kiss him back when you realize what is happening. Matt pulls away from you lips and looks you in the eyes.

"That help?"

You answer him by kissing him back, this time he is the one that is caught off guard. Pulling away you answer with a breathy "yeah" and a quite giggle. Matt pulls you closer to him with his hands on your waist.

You cant stop smiling. You never thought this day would come when you would be able to kiss Matt. Not wanting to push Matt to do anything you just put your arms around his neck and wait for him to make the next move.

Matt without any warning picks you up, walks across his room and places you on his bed. Standing in front of you he bends down to be level with your face "You have no idea what you do to me, do you?" He whispers in your ear.

His hot breath fanning your neck sends shivers down your spine, making you let out a low whimper. Chuckling Matt moves his face so now he is making eye contact with you. Deciding hes not going to do something about the obvious tension in the room, you kiss him again.

This time it gets heated. Your back is pushed against the bed, Matt on top of you. Matt's hands are on your waist. Your hands rest on his chest, playing with the fabric of his shirt. His grip is strong making it so you cant move. He is leaving wet kisses down your jaw and neck, then moving back up to your face.

Matt's hands are traveling up your sides, making you squirm at his touch. He pulls away and lifts his shirt up and over his head. You've seen Matt shirtless before, but you cant help and stare right now, taking in every detail of his torso. Matt clears his throat becoming nervous under your gaze.

"sor-." You go to say. Matt cuts you off by kissing you again. His hands playing with the bottom of your shirt now. Taking the hint you break the kiss and slide your thin top up and over your head. Matt is the one staring now, as your chest is now only covered by your lacy bra. Giggling quietly "My eyes are up here silly." Grabbing his chin and bringing his eyes back up to yours.

"You're so beautiful." Matt is kissing you again not giving you time to even say anything back. Smiling in the kiss at the compliment. You go to toy with his belt. Matt pulls back from the kiss looking down at where your hands are, so close to where he needs them but so far away.

You drop your hands as quickly as you can thinking that he is uncomfortable with what you're doing. Matt quickly grabs them and puts them back, letting you know to keep going. You quickly unbuckle his belt, throwing it somewhere on the floor. Still kissing Matt you feel his hands at the waist band out your pants. Nodding yes to let him know it's ok to take them off.

Matt rips your pants down your legs, along with his own leaving you both in your underwear. Your arms go to wrap around your waist to hide from Matt but he stops you by holding your hands above your head, interlocking your fingers. He gives you a quick peck on the lips before moving down to your jaw and neck.

Your breath hitches when he kisses your collar bone. He looks up at you, making eye contact. "Can I take this off?" He ask playing with the strap of your bra. Shaking you head yes. "Words now please." He says. Instant butterfly's enter your tummy.

"Yes, take it off Matt." You say slightly moaning his name when he kisses the top of your breast.

Matt takes your bra off and his mouth quickly finds your nipple swirling it around with his tongue. Whimpering as he does this you can feel him smiling onto your skin. Hands flying to his hair to try and push him down to where you need him the most. "Matt."

"Hm" He responds not taking his mouth off of your body traveling farther down. "What do you need sweetheart."

"I need y-you, Matt, I need you so bad." You confess.

"All you had to do was ask." He starts to move down your body, now at the top of your panties. He loops his finger under the top of them and looks at you once again in the eyes asking for permission to take your final piece of clothing off.

"Matt, just take them off already." You beg slightly, becoming needy. "Please, I need you inside of me already." This makes Matt's cheeks turn a slight shade of pink as if his not undressing you.

Ripping your panties off Matt stares at your naked body laying in front of him. "How did I get so lucky?" He ask himself. He's now face to face with you pussy. You feel his warm breath on your heat. You can feel you heart rate pick up, this is something you never thought would be happening to you.

Gasping when you feel his tongue lick a strip through your folds. You can feel him smirking against you as his tongue moves at a fast speed now. You are becoming a mess from just his tongue, how would it feel when he is pounding into you, his dick hitting the right spot every time.

"M-matt" His name comes out of your mouth louder than you thought because he stops his movements and puts his finger to his lip tell you to be quite. His chin is covered in your juices.

"shh. Wouldn't want them to hear." He says nodding his head towards the door implying he was talking about his brothers.

Quickly nodding your head Matt gets back to work. Your legs start to shake not to long after he starts again. Your hands are pulling on his hair. "Matt-I ug- Im close." You manage to moan out. Matt quickens his pace when he hears this.

"Cum for me, let it all go pretty girl" Hearing his words you cum all over his face. Your legs are shaking, your thighs squeezing around his head as your organism washes over you.

As you are trying to catch your breath Matt's face comes out from in-between your legs. Wiping his chin with the back of his hand, he comes up to your face and gives you a quick little peck on the lips. His lips travel from your lips to the top of your breast.

His hard on presses against your thigh, pressing your thigh up into his cock. He whimpers at the feeling when you do this, lightly biting down on your chest. You do this again, this time earning a moan from Matt. Smirking at what you do to him, you quickly flip so now you are on top of him.

You loop your fingers in the waist band of his underwear and he takes the hit and pulls them down. You can't help but stare for a second, thinking about how it will fit. Matt clears his throat and you bring your attention back to his face.

"Are you sure about this?" Matt ask you.

"Yeah." You tell him. "What about you? Do you want this to?"

"Most defiantly."

With that you kiss Matt. Pulling away Matt flips you guys over again so he is on top once again. He lines up his tip with your entrance. He slowly pushes into. You wince at this pain as he stretches you out. He slowly starts to thrust into you.

Little sounds escape your lips when the pain becomes pleasure. Matt starts to move his hips. You feel over the moon right now, never in a billion years would you think this would be happening, all because of a stupid song.

Matt's lips reconnect with yours. His hips are moving slowly still. "Mhp- Matt." You let quiets moans and whimpers of his name leave your mouth, pushing Matt to move his hips faster.

"You're so pretty." He lets out. "I hope you know that." Blushing at his comments his name slips past your lips again.

Matt hits the spot that makes you crumble every time. You can't hold back your moans anymore, letting the whole house know what is going on. Matt is quick to put his fingers in your mouth. Picking up his pace as his rams into you.

You're close to cumming again, you can tell Matt is as well. His thrust are become sloppy and uneven. "C-close." is all you can mumble out.

"Me to, me to." He tells you as he takes his fingers out of your mouth wanting to hear the noises he causes you to make. "Cum with me y/n?"

Before the whole sentence leaves his mouth your cumming, him not far after you. Matt pulls out and falls down on the bed next to you. You look over at him, his face slightly sweaty from the events that just had happened. "That was..." You start but trail off.

"Yeah it was." He knows what you mean, you just smile at the fact he thinks that same. He looks over at you, making eye contact with you. He leans over and gives you a quick peck on the lips before getting out of bed and walking into his bathroom. He walks back into the room with a washcloth.

Walking over to you he drags the cloth all over your thighs being careful around your more sensitive parts as he cleans you up. Peppering kisses all around your body as he does this.

Once he is done he throws the cloth in his dirty clothes bin and grabs you a sweatshirt and underwear from his dresser. After helping you put them on, and his own pair, he climbs back into bed with you. Snuggling up close to you, you can feel his hot breath on your neck.

"Soo-" you start before Matt cuts you off.

"Can we talk in the morning? I just want to cuddle right now..." Matt shamelessly admits.

Laughing lightly at his small confession, "Yeah." You answer. "I like that idea" Snuggling back into his chest. Slowly you start to drift asleep, in arms you're used to sleeping in but this time it's different. A good difference, one that you like and could get used to.

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ANpt2.: I hoped you guys like this. This took me forever to write but I really enjoyed it. this is so long so thanks for reading the whole thing. OKAY BYE LOVE YOU <3!!!

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hey love! I really enjoy your writing specially another lie it was so good and i really loved it and enjoyed the two endings but can you please give us maybe a drabble about what charles' reaction to the 'announcement' maybe from charles' pov? No pressure if you don't wanna do it and thank you for giving us such a great work!

A/N: not proof read and written on my phone. It’s my baby girls birthday this weekend so I’m mostly offline 💕

Another Lie (Blurb) ||CL16 {5.1}

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five (Max’s Ending) || {5.1} Blurb || Five (Charles’ Ending)

Charles had never accepted that you were no longer his. Not even marrying Max had stopped him from thinking that one day you would be back where he knew you belonged. He refused to acknowledge your surname even two years after it had changed to Verstappen.

But this announcement crumbled those dreams.

He should have paid more attention. He knew your body better than his own yet he had been blinded to the changes. He should have questioned why you backed away from him, why you gave up the fight he knew you were always up to having. It was narcissistic but those arguments were the only time any of your burning passion was spent on him, so he would take the acerbic lacerations from your tongue just to have you speak to him.

There would be no more arguments.

Charles couldn’t shake the image of you standing with his son, exactly as it should have been. But those were not your features on Jules face and it was all his fault.

You would never be the mother of his child. You were already a mother to Max’s.

Charles fist collided with the tv screen in front of him, the image of Max kissing you suddenly turning to jagged lines of purple hues as it broke. “Fuck!”

Knowing why you backed away from the fight only made him feel worse. Had you really thought he would hurt you? He flinched as he remembered how your hand had floated across your stomach when he released your wrist. He had hurt you in so many ways, but he would never do that.

If he wasn’t so caught up in the anger he held towards Sapphire he would have noticed how the material of your shirt hung differently, or how your breasts were larger than the last time he saw you. He missed the signs that were right in front of him.

“Charlie? Have you seen Jules?” Sapphire asked with that grating voice of nails on a chalkboard.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he growled as she stared at the broken tv screen and the blood running down his knuckles. “He was roaming the fucking paddock alone!”

He didn’t need an answer as she tossed her bleached blonde hair back ready to make an excuse. The evidence was clear. Purple marks littered her pale neck, marks he knew didn’t come from him.

“Fucking whore.”

“Get off your high horse, you’re no better than me,” she scoffed, pulling her hair back into place.

Charles open his mouth to give his scathing response but he had none. His cheating was the very reason he lost the greatest thing he ever had and now any hope of repairing what he broke was gone.

“Get your shit and go,” Charles said quietly as he turned back to the broken screen, flickers of your face fading in and out. This flashes were just enough to catch the glimpse of pure joy for moment before it was gone again. He looked at his fist and sighed in defeat. “My lawyer will be in touch with a settlement and custody agreement. You’ll be taken care of, just get the fuck out of my sight.”

“You can’t be serious. Is this because of her?” she asked as she pointed to the TV.

“I don’t love you, I never have. In fact, just the sight of you makes me sick and the only good thing to come from you is Jules.” He took a step closer with each brutal slap of honesty, but it was all for nought as she knew this already. “We’re done.”

“I’m glad,” she spat as she stood a little taller and looked down her nose at him. “She is never going to choose you. Who would? You’re never going to be world champion.”

“Take your shit and go, Sapphire,” Charles growled as he took a step forward, forcing her to take a step back to the doorway. “Don’t bother saying goodbye to Jules, he won’t even notice you’re gone.”

[softhairedhotch]

jack has complicated feelings about his father, and aaron finds a note that explains it. content/warnings: angst, alcohol/drunkeness, hints of hotchgan but no relationship, angry notes, angry jack hotchner, teen jack, arguments, haley's mentioned a few times, parent loss mention, hurt/comfort, happy ending!! word count: 6.1k also on ao3!

i can't handle change

Aaron pressed a kiss to Jessica's cheek and allowed a small smile to twitch at his chapped lips. “Hello. Is everything alright?” He asked as he got rid of his jacket. He placed his briefcase on the kitchen table, settling his go-bag down on the floor beside it, and began searching for his laptop when he realised that he hadn’t received an answer. “Jess?” He glanced her way and realised that everything was not alright. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were slightly wet with tears wiped away a few times over. Taking two large strides toward her, he reached out to rest a comforting hand over her shoulder, squeezing gently. “What's wrong?”

“Aaron…” 

Panic hit him square in the chest. “What is it? Is Jack okay? Are you okay?”

Jess shook her head with a sniffle. Timidly, she reached into her back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Aaron thought his heart might give out as time seemed to slow around him, watching as she unfolded the paper. It was jagged at the edges, torn unceremoniously from a small notebook–no doubt Jack’s considering there was a small dinosaur that said ‘you’re rawr-some!’ in the corner of the page–and she bit her lip as she stared down at it. “I found this,” she started, her voice shaking. “In Jack's room. I wasn't snooping, I swear, it was just on the side with his homework, and I was wondering if I should leave it, or throw it out, or, or, or, I don't know, maybe just not show you.” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she offered him the note. “But Jack wrote this.”

Aaron felt numb as he reached out for it. He had no idea what to expect. He combed over every possible explanation in a matter of seconds, fearing the very worst, but nothing could have prepared him for what he found, yet it all felt expected once the initial shock subsided.

‘I HATE MY DAD’ was scrawled across the top of the page in a deep red. The ink bled through the page, Aaron had seen it when Jess had opened it up, but he didn’t realise until now that it wasn’t accidental. Jack was full of rage as he wrote it, pressing down on the pen so hard that Aaron wouldn’t be surprised if he found the broken felt in the trash. Underneath, in black pen, was a letter addressed to Aaron himself, short but in no way sweet. 

He needed some time to process before he read the rest. He folded the paper back up, inhaled sharply, choked on air for a moment, and let out a deep hum when Jess clapped his back half-heartedly. Mumbling out a weak thanks, he dropped down in the nearest chair, careful not to scrunch the paper in any way. Despite the harsh words he wasn’t ready to read, he knew it was delicate.

“Aaron?” Jess whispered, her voice sounding distant to Aaron even though she stood right beside him. His ears rang, steadily increasing in volume until it physically hurt, and time seemed to stand still. It was as if he was trapped underwater with no escape, banging fruitlessly at the sheet of ice that kept him washed away in the current. “Hey, talk to me.” She reached out for him but he ducked away, unfolding the note once more. “Aaron, this is just a thing children do. It's nothing to do with you, it's their way of getting their feelings out.”

“Jack isn't a child,” Aaron replied, voice sharp. “He's thirteen.”

“And this is what teenagers do, too. Don't let it get to you.”

Aaron shook his head, staring down at the page. The words swarmed together, becoming almost completely unreadable, and he could feel the anger–at himself, not at Jack, never at Jack–begin to take a hold of him. “I haven't read it yet.”

“What?”

“I've only read the top line.”

Jess nodded in response. “I’m not leaving until you’ve read it all then.”

He had nothing to say to that. Instead, he forced his eyes to cooperate by blinking until the fog had mostly cleared, and he mentally cursed himself for not listening to his doctor about wearing his glasses, even when he knew he was reaching the age where they were necessary. He took a deep breath and began to read.

I HATE MY DAD.

I wish I had a better dad. One who chose me instead of his shitty job. I used to think he was a hero, like Spider-Man, but now I realise he’s just Peter Parker. A man who never has time for his loved ones because he’s too busy saving the world. A man who saves everyone but not the ones closest to him. He’s not a hero, he just dresses up as one. How can I call him a hero when he’s the reason my mom died? 

Why did he save me but not her?

Aaron’s hands shook as he read it over and over. The words imprinted themselves in his mind and, once he was sure he’d accidentally memorised every word, the paper slipped out of fingers, gracefully falling to the floor. He dropped his hands to his side, clenching his fists and running his thumb soothingly over his knuckles, although it didn’t help.

“Aaron?” 

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?”

He nodded. “Fine.”

Jess’ face crumbled, though she tried to hide it, and she gave her own curt nod. “Okay. Well, Jack's at Owen’s house. Do you need me to pick him up?”

“No.” What was the point in that, Aaron wondered, why take him from a place he felt safe, loved, appreciated, and bring him back to a lifeless home? That’s how Jack felt, right? “Let him have fun. I'll call Owen’s parents later and ask if they need me to pick him up soon.”

“They said something about a sleepover. We thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”

Aaron nodded again, eyes never leaving a piece of wallpaper that curled away from the wall. He'd been needing to fix that for years, ever since Jack tried to sneakily skateboard around the house in the early hours of the morning and fell off, the skateboard flying at the wall and tearing up the paper. ‘At least it wasn't your head’, Aaron had said when he was woken up in a panic thinking someone had broken in, and Jack had laughed in embarrassment. They'd eaten leftover pizza in the kitchen at 4am, and Aaron thought that life was good for once. Things were good. He was good.

But seeing that note, he realised none of that was true.

He wasn’t a good father. 

It was something he already knew, of course, something that nagged away at him constantly, no matter where he found himself. But realising that Jack knew that too, had written it in words, scared him more than he was willing to admit. It destroyed him. He’d never felt more like a failure than he did in that moment. 

Jess rubbed comfortingly at his back, hands as warm as they always were, but he was too numb to feel it. Exhaustion lay thick on his shoulders, weighing him down until he felt as though he might collapse right then and there, and all he wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep forever.

“You should go,” he whispered, voice hoarse. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

“No, it’s, it’s fine,” he mumbled, leaning down to pick up the note. His back stretched uncomfortably as he bent over, the muscles aching from the strenuous work from that week’s case and the long flight home, and he let out a soft groan. He knew he should get a nice hot shower, or dig out an unused heating pad hidden away in one of the kitchen drawers, but he was too tired.  He needed to sleep. “I’m just gonna lay down.”

Aaron headed toward the couch and Jess tutted, grabbing at his elbow and using minimal strength to divert him toward his bedroom. He allowed her to take him wherever, too drained to fight, and she gently sat him down on the bed. “I can make you some soup,” she offered, “or some green tea. I have some in my purse.”

“Of course you have some in your purse,” he replied, huffing out a laugh. “But it’s okay. You’ve done enough, thank you.” He laid back on the bed, hardly bothering to cover himself with the duvet. It covered his legs and that was enough. “I just need to, just need, uh, just…”

He couldn’t finish his sentence; he was out like a light.

Jess smiled at him, a sad smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes (they never did anymore), and pressed a kiss to his forehead. She watched him for a moment, appreciated that he was allowed some form of peace in his sleep, and left, gently shutting the door with a heavy heart.

When Aaron woke up a few hours later, he couldn’t remember a single thing that had happened. His mind was completely silent–a rare occasion–and he felt calm. But then, as he wondered how Jack was doing, and where he was, and if he was okay, it all came rushing back to him.

Jack hated him. 

His son blamed him for the death of his mother, and he blamed him for never being around enough. Aaron understood, though, because he blamed himself for those things too. He always had and he always will.

Glancing at his watch, he noted that it was almost 9pm. He muttered under his breath and pulled up his contact list, scrolling through the list until he found Owen’s mom’s number, and dialled it. The call was quick–Jack wanted to sleep over, Aaron said that that was fine–and he dropped back against the bed with a deep sigh. He stared at the ceiling, hardly blinking, before forcing himself up with an angry huff. He knew he couldn’t wallow in self-pity, he had to do something. Anything to take his mind off things. To give him space to think about how to handle the situation.

Aaron changed into comfortable loungewear, avoiding the mirror in the corner of the room as he did, and made his way to the kitchen. His plan was to get himself a coffee, maybe two, and power through the pile of paperwork in his briefcase that never seemed to end. Before he could make it to the kitchen, however, he came to a stop at Jack’s bedroom door.

For a moment, he imagined that Jack was in his room. He pictured what he’d be doing–probably talking loudly to his friends as he played on the Xbox, or softly singing along to his music as he focused on his homework–and his heart hurt. He knocked on the door as if Jack was there to answer, and after a long silence, gently opened the door. He wasn’t there to snoop–he’d never–but he wanted to look around the place. He wanted to feel close to Jack, even though he knew his son didn’t feel the same way.

As he stepped toward Jack’s bed, the covers a dark blue with white spots, something Jack had picked out when he claimed he was too old for his dinosaur sheets, Aaron realised he couldn’t blame his son for hating him. Not when he knew how easy it was to hate a father. Not when he knew how easy it was to hate himself.

Aaron sat down on the bed, a groan ripping through his lips at the steep drop, and glanced around the room. There were a few pictures messily attached to a corkboard beside Jack’s desk, and he noticed that there were none of the two of them together. He knew they had pictures, he had one of them on his desk at work, and he knew Jack had a few printed out for himself, but it was clear he wasn’t proud enough of his father to keep those pictures up anymore. Ignoring the guilt that curled in his bones, Aaron laid back and stared at the ceiling. It was bare, the ceiling, but the fading marks of glow-in-the-dark stars were still visible. Jack had loved them when he was a kid, especially on dark nights alone when he was sure someone was going to hurt him at any moment, but as he grew into a teen, he’d torn them down. 

Maybe that was the first sign of his hatred, Aaron thought. Or it could have been when the bed sheets changed and no longer represented his personality. Or after his mom died, when he finally figured out that she was never coming home and he’d never see her again. Hell, maybe it was when Haley had left Aaron, before Jack could even put a word to his thoughts but knew how to feel hurt. How to blame.

Aaron’s head pounded, a constant thudding that refused to subside, and he forced himself out of Jack’s room before he could fall into a restless sleep on his bed. He headed straight to the coffee machine and made himself the strongest coffee he could before settling down at the dining table, sipping at it and letting it burn his tongue. He felt like he deserved it. Once the mug was mostly empty, he sorted through his upcoming reports through most important to least important and began working on the one needed early next morning. He caught sight of his go-bag on the floor and sighed, annoyed that he hadn’t had the chance to throw the clothes into the washing machine before he passed out, but he left it until he stood up for more coffee. 

Hours passed and he hadn’t even made a dent in the reports. He sighed, forcing himself up for his fourth–or fifth, maybe sixth?–coffee of the day, when the front door swung open. His first thought was to reach for his gun, too many years on the job training him for the worst, but then he caught sight of a tear-stained Jack and he hovered awkwardly between reaching for his weapon and staring at his son.

When the initial shock dissipated, Aaron moved forward slowly. “Jack?” He asked, freezing when Jack took a few steps back. “What’s wrong, buddy?” 

“Nothing.” 

Jack turned on his heel and sped toward his room, shaking off his jacket as if it burnt his skin, and Aaron followed him close behind. “No, don’t give me that. What happened to the sleepover?”

“I didn’t wanna have one.”

“But Owen’s mom said–”

“She lied!” Jack turned to face him, eyes full of so much sadness it physically pained Aaron to see. “Owen wanted the sleepover, I didn’t. I just wanted to see, to see if…”

Aaron held his breath as he waited for Jack to finish.

“I just wanted to see if you’d say no so we could finally spend some time together.”

All the air rushed out of his lungs. 

“Jack,” he started, but Jack was having none of it and slammed the door in his face. “Jack…” he called out again, voice weak. He hated feeling weak but it was unavoidable when it came to his son. There was no answer other than the sound of Jack locking his door, and Aaron hung his head. “I’m sorry.” It was a weak apology, one that stained his tongue with how false it felt, and he knew it, but it was all he could offer. 

Stepping away from the door, Aaron had no idea what to do. They’d never fought, not really. Aaron had promised himself that he’d never take his anger out on Jack, no matter what happened. As he made his way back to the kitchen, he felt ashamed. He stared down at his reports, unable to find it in himself to sit back down and work. 

Work could wait; it could always wait for Jack.

But could it? 

His job was hard enough as it is, even more so as a single father. There was never time to plan for events–he was either there, or he wasn’t. But he tried his best, he really did. And he thought that Jack knew that, and now he knew otherwise. It wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, he unlocked his phone and went straight to Jess’ contact number. His finger was inches away from calling her when he stopped himself, reaching up to pinch at the bridge of his nose to dull the ache thrumming through him. He couldn’t call her, not for this. He went to her for everything and she came running when he called, always so willing to care for Jack without taking time for herself. He had to stop asking her to raise his own son for him. He had to stop asking her to stand in for her sister. He swiped away from her contact and scrolled down further to Derek’s name, dialling it before he could stop himself.

Derek answered after the third ring. “Hey, Hotch. We got a case?”

“No,” he replied after a long pause, suddenly anxious. Why was he even calling? What was he even going to say? “Uh, sorry, wrong number.”

Derek let out a loud laugh on the other end of the line. “There is no way you just said that, man. Seriously, what’s up?”

“Nothing, I was meant to call Jess, it’s just, uh, something with Jack, and–”

“Is he being bullied again?” 

Aaron sighed. “No, it’s something else. Something worse.”

There was a shuffle on the other end of the line and he could hear the opening and closing of a door. “I’ll be over ASAP.”

“Morgan, no–” But it was no use, he’d already hung up. “Shoot.”

Derek was at Aaron’s door quicker than he expected. He knocked a specific pattern before letting himself in and making his way to where Aaron stood. A crate of beer was in his left hand, his phone in his right, and he grinned when Aaron glanced at the alcohol. “I wasn’t sure how bad, so…” Derek shrugged. Aaron reached out for a beer and opened it with ease, downing it in one go. “Woah. Very bad then. Should have gotten something stronger, huh?”

“Jack hates me,” Aaron grumbled before he could stop himself. The beer wasn’t enough to loosen him up yet but he trusted Derek. He always trusted Derek.

Derek raised his eyebrows, his lips twitching into a disbelieving smile. “No way, man. That kid loves you.” A loud yell came from Jack’s bedroom as he raged over a video game and Derek’s eyebrows shot up even higher somehow. “What happened?”

Instead of repeating himself, Aaron reached into his pocket and pulled out Jack’s note. It was scrunched up into a ball–he’d gotten annoyed and tossed it in the trash before anxiously scooping it back out seconds later–and Derek took it from him, slowly unfolding it. He read it, his jaw going tense, his eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, before folding it neatly and placing it on the counter. “Yeah,” Aaron spat out, reaching for another beer and uncapping it, sipping at it this time. “That’s what happened.”

Derek was at a loss for words. Finally, though, after he took several thoughtful gulps of his own beer, he shook his head. “That’s just what kids do, man.”

Aaron fought back the urge to roll his eyes. “That’s what Jess said.”

“Because she’s right. Jack just turned, what, thirteen? He’s entering his rebellious phase, so what? We’ve all been there, man.”

“Morgan, we’ve seen children’s rebellious phases. We’ve see what can happen to them; we know what loss at a young age does to these kids.”

“So, what, you’re saying you think Jack’s going to become a serial killer based on this note?”

Aaron almost choked on his beer. “What? No!”

“Then what are you trying to say? Because from where I’m standing it sounds like you’re comparing him to the children we’ve had to put away. Those children are troubled; Jack isn’t.”

“But he is.” Aaron polished off his second beer. It wasn’t his drink of choice, he preferred the burn of whiskey sliding down his throat, but it’d do for now. He needed to stop thinking so clearly, so coherently, just for a moment. “He lost his mom at a young age, Morgan. He heard her die. Heard me kill the man who murdered her. He’s never gonna get over that, that trauma will follow him for life. And I’m never around. To him, he lost both parents that night. I know I lost myself that night, anyway.”

“Hotch–”

“And I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Talk to him.”

“How?”

Derek shrugged. “I can’t help you with that, man, you have to figure that out yourself. All I know is that it needs to come from the heart. Tell him how you feel, let him know you love him, make sure he knows that you’re trying. Because you are, I know you are.”

“Not hard enough.”

“Cut the bullshit.” Derek stepped closer and their eyes met. Aaron couldn’t look away. “You are trying, man. I’ve seen it first hand. Whenever you have the chance, you wrap up a case as quickly as you can just so you can get a few more minutes with that boy before he falls asleep. And if you know you’re not making it home that day, you call him any chance you can get. I know he doesn't answer as much as you would like because he’s always busy with school or friends now, but I see the effort you’re making, man. You hearing me? You are trying, I can see it. And Jack will too, eventually, but right now you and Jess are all he has, and all he knows is that he sees Jess more than you.” Aaron opened his mouth to say something but Derek cut him off. “No, let me finish. Trust me, I am not saying that to hurt you.. I’m just calling it how I see it. You’re trying, man, and you’re doing your best. You’re a good dad, Hotch, I need you to know that. But Jack isn’t going to understand that unless you sit him down and talk to him.”

Aaron had no words. He turned his beer a few times in his hand but couldn’t bring himself to take another sip as he mulled over the words. They hit him much harder than he expected but he knew deep down that it was all true.

“Jack’s a smart kid,” Derek continued, clapping him on the shoulder. “He’ll understand if you just give him a chance. But for now, give him some time to cool off and think.”

“Right.”

“Which means that gives us time to drink, huh?” Derek beamed, throwing his head back to drain the last of his beer. “Let’s get something stronger, though, this beer ain’t cutting it.”

“There’s some whiskey in the cupboard over there,” Aaron pointed toward it, “help yourself.”

“Nuh-uh, I ain’t gonna be the only one drinking this stuff,” Derek laughed, grabbing the whiskey and two glasses. “You better join me.”

And join him he did. 

A few hours passed and Aaron was, respectfully, wasted. He knew how to handle his alcohol, he knew his exact cut-off point, but he’d exceeded that by almost three times. Derek matched his energy, drinking as much as he did, and the whiskey bottle was almost empty by the time they were both falling asleep on the couch. 

“I meant what I said, by the way,” Derek spoke up, words slurring as he tried–and failed–to sit up. Instead, he chose to lay down across the couch, flicking his long legs over Aaron’s. Aaron didn’t have enough energy to push his legs away. “You’re a good dad.”

“You’re just saying that because you feel like you have to.”

“Nope,” he replied, popping the P. He laughed at himself afterwards, a small chuckle turning into roaring laughter that had him sliding off the couch, before he managed to compose himself. Aaron laughed alongside him for a short while, the alcohol making him feel like he was floating, but reality crashed down on him once again and guilt seeped into his bloodstream. “Saying it because it’s true.”

“Whatever, man.” 

Derek raised an eyebrow, laughing again. “Did Aaron Hotchner just say ‘whatever, man’? What’s next, you gonna rock up to work in a hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts? You gonna hang a surfboard on your wall instead of a bike this time?”

“Please… don’t remind me of the bike.”

“I will remind you of the bike, man, because seriously, what was that?”

Aaron shrugged. “I was in my biking phase. It reminded me of my time back in Seattle. It was…”

“It was funny, that’s what it was. But healthy, too.” Derek thought for a moment and gasped dramatically, reaching forward to lightly slap at Aaron’s upper arm. “Hey, we should go biking together.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“Right now?”

“Jesus, not right now. I think I’d throw up just trying to sit on the damn thing.”

Aaron groaned and held his stomach. “Don’t mention throwing up or I’ll throw up.”

Derek covered his mouth with hand and Aaron closed his eyes to steady his swimming vision. Behind them, Jack’s bedroom door opened, and Aaron tensed as he focused on the tentative footsteps heading toward the bathroom. Derek began to talk about a brawl he witnessed at a local pub to fill the silence but Aaron wasn’t paying attention. His thoughts drowned out Derek’s voice, far more violent than the fight he was explaining, and when Jack came back into the room, the sound of footsteps was all he could hear.

“Hey Jack!” Derek said, sitting up with a smile on his face. “How’s it hanging?”

“Alright.”

“Come on, man, I haven’t spoken to you in ages!”

“Morgan,” Aaron warned, voice low. “You said to give him some time.”

“Yeah, from you,” Derek shrugged. “But who needs time away from Uncle Derek?”

Jack eyed them, unamused. “I need to go back to my game, Uncle Derek. It was nice seeing you.”

“Jack,” Aaron started, turning to face his son. At the sight of him, however, all words escaped him and all he could do was stare.

Rolling his eyes, Jack turned away from them and pushed open his bedroom door. “Wow, nice talk, Aaron.” And as if that wasn’t enough, he slammed the door so hard Aaron was sure there’d be a noise complaint in the morning.

“Holy shit,” Derek muttered, sitting up so fast his neck cracked unpleasantly. “Did he just…”

Aaron felt sick to his stomach. “He did.”

“And you’re just gonna let him do that?”

“For now, yes.” Aaron reached for the last of the whiskey and opened the bottle, throwing it back without bothering to pour a glass. “You should leave.”

“No way am I going to leave after–”

“Derek. Leave.” His voice was desperate; Derek had never heard him so vulnerable before. “Please.”

“Okay, man, sure, yeah. I’ll, I’ll leave.” Derek stood up, stumbled, and looked around as if he couldn’t physically get himself to move. “But only after I know that you’re okay.”

“Morgan–”

“No, Aaron. Only after I know you’re okay.”

Aaron was too tired to argue. 

The next day, Aaron woke up in bed and had no clue how he got there. All he knew was that his head was throbbing, his body felt weak, and he was wrapped up in his sheets like a newborn. Derek must have tucked him in. The thought made him flustered, albeit not entirely unpleasantly, and he pushed it aside as he forced himself out of bed.

Feeling gross, Aaron made his way to the shower and put the temperature as high as it could go, stepping in the moment it reached its peak. The water burned him, his skin quickly becoming bright red, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He stood there for what felt like hours before getting out, not even bothering with cleaning himself. He had no energy to commit to a task that felt so menial. Throwing on the first clothes he could find, Aaron finally allowed himself to enter the kitchen and make himself a coffee. To his surprise, though, Jack was there, making himself cereal, and at the sight of his dad he began to walk away, leaving everything on the counter.

“Jack.”

“Leave me alone.”

A switch flicked in Aaron’s head. He wasn’t going to take this anymore. “Jack Hotchner, you listen to me right now.”

Jack paused, stood still for a few moments, and slowly turned around. He looked nervous, not used to his dad taking such a sharp tone with him, but he nodded nonetheless. “Okay.”

“We are gonna sit down and we are gonna talk. Man-to-man. How does that sound?”

“It sounds… awful,” Jack said, but he managed a small smile. “But okay.”

Jack moved toward the couch and Aaron quickly made himself a coffee, grabbing both the mug and bowl of cereal before sitting beside his son. He passed Jack his cereal and watched him intently, waiting for him to take a few bites before talking. “Jess found something you wrote and she showed it to me.” Jack tensed but continued to silently eat, avoiding Aaron’s eyes. “On it, you said you hate me.”

“Dad, I–”

“Oh, so it’s dad now?” 

Jack looked incredibly guilty. “I’m sorry. I really, uh, really shouldn’t have called you by… something other than Dad. You didn’t, like, deserve that.”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have, and I didn’t. But we need to talk about it, okay?” Aaron took a few sips of his coffee before placing his mug on the table beside him. “I understand that I’m no hero, especially not to you. Not after…” Aaron swallowed nervously. “Not after mom. I know that. But I do try, I need you to know that.”

Jack nodded. “You’re just… never mind.”

Aaron reached out and clasped Jack’s shoulder firmly in his hand. He waited patiently until Jack found enough courage to look up at him. “It’s okay, you can say it.”

“You’re never around.”

“I know.”

“And I need you around.”

A tear threatened to escape Aaron’s eye. “I know.”

“I don’t hate you, Dad. I was just… I was angry. You hadn’t been home in a week and all I wanted to tell you was some good news I got and I couldn’t.”

“You can always call me.”

“Sometimes you don’t answer,” he sighed, looking away again. He stirred his cereal but didn’t bother to eat anymore. “And I know it’s because you’re on a case, and you’re out there risking your life to save people and make the world a better place, but it hurts. And I wanted to tell you in person.”

Aaron nodded somberly. “What did you want to tell me?”

“Nuh-uh, we’re having a serious talk here.”

“Wow,” Aaron chuckled, “okay then. I guess I’ll reprimand you more and–”

“Oh, no.”

“–then you can tell me, huh?”

“I regret what I said, can I take it back?”

Bumping his shoulder against Jack’s, Aaron smiled. “After I say the rest of what I need to say.” Jack groaned, and Aaron rolled his eyes playfully. “I know you don’t hate me, buddy, but those words you wrote really hurt.”

“More than when you got stabbed?”

Aaron winced. “Way more. But we can move past that, it’s fine. I want to ask you something.”

“Okay…”

“If I were to take… time off work, how would you feel?”

“More than two days this time?” Jack asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes. “Maybe even three days?”

“Alright, don’t get too sassy now, bud. You’re still in trouble. But, yes, more than two days, and more than three. What if, what if I…” Aaron couldn’t believe what he was about to suggest. “What if I left the job?”

“What?” Jack’s mouth hung open. “No, Dad, I’m not asking you to do that. You love your job.”

“I know you’re not asking, Jack. I’m offering. And yeah, I do love the job, but I love you more. And, truth be told, it’s getting too much for me.”

Jack's face became one of concern and he sat up straight, scrutinising Aaron from head to toe. If it wasn’t so endearing to witness, Aaron’s sure he’d have broken down right then and there. He looked so much like Haley when he looked at him like that. “Did you get hurt on the last case? Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Aaron moved Jack’s bowl away from the two of them before pulling Jack into a hug. He squeezed him tightly and took a deep breath before answering. “No, bud. I just want to spend more time with you.”

“Really?” 

“Of course. You’re the best kid I know.”

Jack wrapped his arms around Aaron’s neck so tightly that he feared he might really need to go to the hospital if he kept up with that grip. He was growing stronger each day, both mentally and physically, and Aaron felt emotional at the thought. “Aren’t I, like, the only kid you know.”

“You really, like, believe that?” Aaron said, mocking him gently. 

Pulling away, Jack laughed. “Don’t make me take back everything I just said.”

“Oof, bud, too soon.” 

“Sorry,” he shrugged, not looking apologetic in the slightest. “Does this mean we’re okay?”

“Of course we are. I don’t think you could do anything that would end up with us never okay again.”

“Even if I keyed your car?”

“You what?!”

“Oh my god, Dad, it’s a joke, it’s a joke I swear,” Jack said through laughter. “Sorry, I forgot you don’t do well with jokes.”

“No, I suppose I don’t,” Aaron replied, dropping his shoulders in relief. “That was always your mom’s thing.”

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence, both reminiscing over Haley. Aaron remembered how hard she’d laugh at her own jokes and the way she’d light up the room as she did. She always worried that it was annoying but Aaron promised her that it’d never annoy him, and it never did. She was endlessly brilliant to him, and always would be. Looking at Jack, he felt the same way.

“So,” Aaron started, breaking the silence. Jack looked up at him expectantly. “What was the good news you wanted to tell me?”

“Oh.” He grew sheepish, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly, and Aaron cocked his head, intrigued. “Uh, well, promise not to get mad?”

“Now I’m worried, so I don’t know if I can make that promise.”

“It’s not bad, I swear.”

“Okay… I promise.”

Jack took a deep breath, wringing his hands together in his lap. “I kinda, sorta, maybe, just might, I don’t know–”

“Jack.”

“Ihaveagirlfriend.”

Aaron’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I have a girlfriend.”

It took a few seconds for it to register in Aaron’s mind. At first, he wanted to demand information so that he could send the names to Penelope for background checks on her parents and her parents’ parents, but he refrained from saying that out loud. His second thought was that Jack was too young to have a girlfriend, but then he remembered his first kiss was with a boy behind the school bins when he was seven, so he couldn’t say anything. And then he remembered what his own father did to him when he told his parents he had a girlfriend when he was eleven, and how it took months for that broken arm to heal, and he realised that he was nothing like his father. “That’s great, buddy. What’s her name?”

“Lola.”

Aaron smiled. “That’s a pretty name. Tell me everything.”

Jack beamed up at him and scooted closer so that he could lean into Aaron’s side, burying himself even closer when Aaron grinned back and wrapped his arm tightly around his shoulders, before he began to ramble about his new girlfriend. They’d met at school in art class and she had the sweetest laugh, according to Jack, and he was sure he was going to marry her. As Aaron listened, he thought back to Haley, and he couldn’t help but feel so proud. Things were good again, and this time he was sure they’d stay that way.

[pennyparsnip]

I feel like delulu posting my 2012 Once-ler/ Greed-ler headcanons, so here you go:

The Greed-ler Suit

Is made out of truffula/ is a thneed and absorbs all the filth in the air. That would be why the Once-ler is the only clean looking thing by the end of the movie. What makes me think this? Because we see when he gets rotten tomatoes thrown at him in the beginning of his thneed selling journey, the thneed is able to get the tomato completely out of his vest and shirt (which are 2 different materials). This is the same thneed we saw him use to soak up a cup of water and mop his floor just before he set out to sell them! He also wore this thneed on the walk to Greenville, so that thing was full of sweat too when it cleaned those tomatoes.

The greed-ler suit being a fancy thneed being green would just go to further show their versatility! "Look at this! They can even be dyed to be an unnatural color!" it would portray! He would be a walking advertisement.

Would smell so bad by the end of the movie because of the water pollution lol. Ain't no damn WAY that once the water is that polluted, ANYONE is able to have clean laundry, let alone people who have garments that need special care. I know I sure didn't see any infrastructure to properly care for the water! Just what they needed in order not to look at the shloppity-shlop. So, if the greed-ler suit is made of truffula, there is no way at all that it doesn't need special laundering. Do you think that could be done without clean water? I don't think so!

When it is properly laundered and cared for, the Once-ler smells like butterfly milk because thats how truffula tufts smell. As the suit falls into disrepair, the smell would start to get sour like curdled milk.

Is hand made. You can NOT tell me he didn't make that suit and the gloves himself. You can see by the end of the movie that the lines on the suit are starting to look jagged and not quite right when, in the beginning, it didn't look like that. The more suits he made, the less he was able to hold it together, and the less he cared about what he was doing. I think it's meant to show he got sloppy and uncaring with time when he used to be so passionate and care deeply about what he did and what he put out into the world.

The Once-ler was treated poorly by his family because of his natural affinity towards recycling/ nature

Okay, hear me out. Hear me out!!

When we first see the whole family, what is the most notable thing about the environment around them? It's dead. Every inch of the environment around that family home is dead. But as we follow the Once-ler while he leaves home, we see the environment brighten up and become livelier! The further he is from home, we dont just see him relax and become more alive, we see the whole ecosystem start to thrive (personally, I think the scenery we see him traverse is meant to be places that the family has already been and devastated, but thats just one of my "source: I made it the fuck up" ideas lol! In the book, we get the lore that the Once-lers hop from place to place as the environments they infest can't keep up with them.).

So, with that in mind, think about the way he behaved immediately when he found the truffula trees; he was immediately filled with wonder! He called it beautiful and was moved to tears nearly! He broke out into song ffs. When he was approached by the animals, he was friendly and sang with them! We saw him mindlessly fling his stuff around, but as soon as he realized, "Oh maybe I should reign this in. They didn't like that!" he did! He started learning to live with the animals and in the environment before the Lorax got involved. You can't tell me that the face he makes when he sees how happy sharing his marshmallows with the forest critters wasn't genuine joy. That man loves the forest, and you can not tell me he wasn't doing his best, considering he had no knowledge to build off of when he got there.

When his family comes, we get to see their first impressions of the truffula trees, and it was with disgust, disrespect, disregard, and disassociation in that order as his family got out of the RV. Their reactions are literally not only the opposite of the Once-ler's, but it was directly oppositional to his reaction. The family came in an RV (which is the first pollutant to the forest) and parked WAY too close to the Once-ler's camp; they overshadow him and the environment both literally and metaphorically when they show up. They're throwing the bears, bending the trees, trying to fist fight the forest guardian... they're showing none of the care that the Once-ler was naturally inclined to show. Any time he talks to his mom, his face is shadowed, or he isn't the focus of whatever the shot is. Hes not only not like them, hes not equipped to deal with knowimg that he is not like them, and hes also not equipped to deal with them knowing that he isn't like them.

Once-ler details I noticed that make me giggle and kick my feet

(I need to be sent to a psych ward lol)

His blanket is not just handmade. Oh no. We see he has his baby blanket sewn into it!!! He even picked a thread color that matches both fabrics. But.. the baby blanket is sewn on crooked. This makes me think that this blanket he made was probably a first project or when he was a beginner! Pulling from personal experience with knitting/ sewing, blankets are a very common project for beginners.

He fixes his guitar after that one asshole kid smashes it. We see that the guitar is visibly broken at the beginning of How Bad Can I Be when it was fine before that. After the thneed finds success, the first brand new thing we see the Once-ler buy is a new guitar that looks like his old one that the asshole kid smashed, and he DESERVED THAT NEW GUITAR!!!

We see that he brought those 2 giant bags of marshmallows with him from home. If he didn't set out to the truffula forest and didn't know to expect the animals to love the marshmallows... you're gonna tell me he didn't bring those marshmallows for himself? I don't believe you. He brought those big ass bags of marshmallows because he loved them, and he didn't know when he would be seeing them again. Which makes it even more sweet that he was so willing to share!!!! I will absolutely not be accepting criticism about that!!

He made a table, a chair, and a pitcher out of the trunk of the first truffula tree he chopped down. We can clearly see all 3 of them in the scene when the family first shows up. They are all patterened exactly the same as the truffula trees. So that means he used the whole entire tree, including the fruits, because if he didn't cook with it, the animals would eat it.

My sources are that I have a hyperfixation and that I feel it in my heart, bro

[mechwarrior-rose]

🟢🔵🔴🟡⚪💛🔮🏆 for the ask game

From Star Colonel Melissa Hazen, @is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not

Hell, that's a big ol' passel of questions there. Better crack my knuckles and jump in.

🟢 - I started out as a Ghost Bear trueborn MechWarrior. Lucky enough to get decanted in time to join Operation REVIVAL. Had a few adventures, a few mishaps, and then my star ran into the Second Genyosha right after they'd pulled garrison duty for their part in Operation BULLDOG. They took me and a starmate as isorla, so for a while I worked for them. Took off on my own after that. If I have any factional allegiance at all right now, it's to my own damn self and whoever's fool enough to hire me.

🔵 - I may not be a proper Ghost Bear anymore, but I'm still proud of 'em. They cut a lot of the bullshit that the home Clans got hung up on. Realized that the world had moved on, and they'd best move on with it or get left behind. Same with the Sea Foxes. I still get hung up on the name change. Used to have a buddy in the Sharks back in the day. And I guess the Lyrans ain't all that bad, or at least as much as I saw of 'em on Solaris.

🔴 - On the other hand, I maybe saw too much of those arrogant Davion loyalists on Solaris, especially during the big riots. I don't cotton much to them. FedSuns as a whole is fine, I guess, but somehow I ain't never run into someone from the Suns who ain't a bootlicker. Not a big fan of Wolf's Dragoons, either. And maybe that's a bit hypocritical of me, bein' a former Clanner turned mercenary myself. Old hurts are hard to shake, I guess. I've tried to tamp down my grudge against the Hell's Horses, but come on, they kinda suck, don't they? They ain't as bad as the Smoke Jags. Now them I learned to hate from personal experience, at least as a political entity. Whole clan's gone now, and good riddance.

🟡 - My most recent permanent domicile was the Titans stable back on Solaris. Bounced around a few co-ops before they picked me up. Since I left a few years ago, I've mostly hitched rides. Traded service for berth space with small merc companies going the same way I am. Crawling my way to the Periphery. I reckon I'll keep doing the same until I find what I'm lookin' for.

⚪ & 💛 - Very first vehicle I properly piloted was a Shadow Cat Prime. Tested in the same model, but not the same unit. I claimed an Ebon Jaguar Prime during a tour against the Smoke Jags after my Trial of Position, and I've been piloting her ever since. Had to fight like hell to make sure the Genyosha gave her back to me after I got my bondcord cut. Been using Inferno rounds for the SRM-2, but I figure I'll be back to standard ammo once the bin runs out.

🔮 - I looked down on it for a long time, just like most of us did. After Tukayyid, I ran garrison duty on Thessalonika for a few years. Had a great time, and I made a lot of good friends, but I was too damn busy bein' angry about the Trial cutting us off for the next decade and a half to pay attention to how good I had it. Gettin' captured by the Genyosha was probably the best thing that could have happened to me. Finally opened my eyes to how absolutely fuckin' weird Clan warrior life is. People in the Sphere just live day to day, tryin' to make it best they can. I've been doin' the same now for a decade or so, and it don't seem so bad, all things considered.

🏆 - Hell naw, I ain't got no Bloodname.

... I wanted a shot at mine. Bloodhouse Hall. Figured I'd have it after my tour against the Jags. Fuck's sake, I got a line in the goddamned Remembrance, you'd think I'd have been a shoo-in. But the war happened, and then there I was, stuck on Thessalonika, twiddlin' my thumbs. Challenged my CO to about half a dozen Trials of varyin' degrees in hopes of gettin' my chance to go home and try for a name. She ended up puttin' me down hard in the end, which did nothing to alleviate my misery. And now the thought just seems kinda foolish. Somewhere on Alshain, assumin' they bothered to bring it with them, there's a sample of my genes waitin' for me to go back and do some damn Trial or ritual or somethin' to come back into the fold and earn my place in eternity. That's all right. It can keep on waitin'.

I don't think I've talked that much at a stretch in a long time. I think I might need a lie-down after that grillin'.

[hersheysmcboom]

The air in the Danger Room hung thick with humidity despite the advanced climate control. Gambit shuffled the deck of cards with a flourish, the kinetic energy singing faintly around his fingertips. Jubilee and Kitty sat across from him, perched on overturned crates, their youthful faces intent.

"Alright, cheries," Gambit drawled, his Cajun accent thick as molasses, "Let's see who the next card shark is. But remember, no phasing through the deck, Kitty."

Kitty giggled, her eyes twinkling. "No promises."

Jubilee smirked, popping a bubble with a loud snap. "I'm gonna win all your money, Remy LeBeau."

Gambit feigned offense. "My money? Mademoiselle, I'm insulted. It's not 'my' money, it's 'our' money, shared amongst friends. But...it will be my money again by the end of this game."

For a few minutes, the sounds of shuffling cards and playful banter filled the room. But beneath the surface of the game, a tension lingered. Gambit was restless, his gaze frequently drifting towards his hands. He knew the clock was ticking. Weeks had passed since Apocalypse's defeat, weeks of painstaking recovery and rebuilding, weeks of searching for a cure. Beast burned the midnight oil in the lab, pouring over genetic data, while Xavier and Jean delved into his mind, searching for a way to reverse the changes Apocalypse had wrought. But so far, nothing. He was still Death. He still felt the echoes of that twisted power within him.

Then, Jubilee's sharp eyes zeroed in. "Hey, Remy, what's that under your sleeve?"

Gambit froze. His heart slammed against his ribs. He instinctively pulled his sleeve further down, avoiding their gazes. "Nothing, cher. Just...scratches. From the Danger Room training."

Kitty narrowed her eyes, her brow furrowed in suspicion. "Training? Those don't look like scratches. They look..."

"It's nothing to worry about," Gambit insisted, his voice a little too high-pitched. He forced a smile. "Come on, let's get back to the game."

But Jubilee and Kitty weren't letting it go. They had seen too much, been through too much, to ignore the haunted look in Gambit's eyes.

"Show us," Kitty stated, her voice firm.

"Kitty, non," Gambit pleaded. "It's...it's nothing you need to see."

"If it's nothing, then you won't mind showing us," Jubilee countered, her voice laced with concern.

Gambit looked from one young face to the other, desperation warring with shame. He knew they wouldn't back down. He knew he couldn't hide it forever.

Before he could react, Kitty's hand shot out and grasped his wrist. With a flick of her power, she phased his arm right through the thick fabric of his sleeve.

The room went deathly silent.

Kitty and Jubilee stared in horror at Gambit's revealed forearm. It was a grotesque tapestry of scars. Deep, jagged lines crisscrossed his skin, interspersed with puckered burn marks. Some looked old, faded to a silvery hue, while others were angry and red, still raw and inflamed.

Kitty gasped, releasing his arm as if burned. Jubilee covered her mouth, her eyes wide with shock and pity.

Gambit yanked his arm back, pulling his sleeve down with trembling fingers. He hung his head, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Remy..." Kitty whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

"It's... it's nothing," Gambit mumbled, his gaze fixed on the floor. "Just... old wounds."

"Those are not old wounds!" Jubilee exclaimed, her voice trembling. "What happened, Remy? What did you do to yourself?"

Gambit remained silent for a long moment, the weight of his past pressing down on him. He could feel the eyes of the two young mutants burning into him, demanding an explanation. He finally looked up, his eyes filled with pain and a raw, vulnerable honesty.

"It's... it's what I deserve," he croaked, his voice barely audible. "For what I did as Death. For the things I enjoyed doing."

He shuddered, reliving the dark pleasure he had taken in inflicting pain, in serving Apocalypse. The power had been intoxicating, seductive, and he had surrendered to it willingly. Now, he paid the price.

"I... I can't get rid of it, cheries," he continued, his voice breaking. "The guilt. The shame. It's always there, gnawing at me. So... sometimes I just..." He trailed off, unable to articulate the depths of his self-loathing.

"You... you hurt yourself?" Kitty asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Gambit nodded slowly, his eyes filled with tears he refused to shed.

"Remy, why didn't you tell anyone?" Jubilee asked, stepping closer.

"Because I deserve it," he repeated, his voice tinged with self-disgust. "I deserve all of it. I don't want pity. I don't want help. I just want to be left alone with my punishment."

"But that's crazy, Remy!" Kitty protested, her voice rising. "You don't deserve to hurt yourself! You were under Apocalypse's control!"

"Maybe," Gambit said, his voice flat. "But I still enjoyed it. And that's why I can't forgive myself."

He looked pleadingly at Jubilee and Kitty. "Please, cheries. Don't tell anyone. I can't handle it if everyone knows what I've done, what I am."

Jubilee and Kitty exchanged a look, a silent conversation passing between them. They knew Gambit was hurting, deeply and profoundly. They also knew that self-harm was a serious issue, one that needed to be addressed. But they also saw the raw vulnerability in Gambit's eyes, the desperate plea for secrecy.

"Remy, we don't think you should be doing this to yourself," Kitty said gently. "We think you should talk to someone - Dr. McCoy, maybe, or even Professor X."

"Non!" Gambit exclaimed, his eyes widening in panic. "Please, Kitty, no. I can't. Just... give me a little time. I'll... I'll figure it out."

Jubilee hesitated, her conscience warring with her compassion for Gambit. "Remy, we're not saying you're a bad person. We just want you to be okay."

Gambit swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. "I know, cher. And I appreciate it. But please... just give me a chance to deal with this on my own. If things don't get better, then... then I'll ask for help. Promise."

Kitty and Jubilee looked at each other again, their faces etched with concern. They knew they were making a risky decision, potentially enabling Gambit's self-destructive behavior. But they also couldn't ignore his desperate plea for privacy.

Finally, Kitty spoke. "Okay, Remy. We won't tell anyone. But you have to promise us that you'll talk to someone if things get worse."

"I promise," Gambit said, his voice sincere. "Thank you, cheries. More than you know."

The game felt different, playing cards with gambit while knowing what he does to himself, jubilee wondered what he would’ve done if they hadn’t agreed to keep his dark secret, kitty was silent during the rest of the card game, but would constantly look at gambit’s arms where his scars are hidden, if he’s feeling okay, if he’s hiding anything, at least for know, kitty and jubilee would keep what they learned, but that doesn’t mean they can’t keep making sure he’s okay.

[deyn-thunderspell]

The Arcane Brawler’s Guild

Deyn took a low stance, one hand extended, the other pulled to his chest. Rough cloth wrapped his wrists and palms, metal plates across the knuckles. His fingers flexed with frustration. His hair was a mess, green eyes in a pained squint under the jagged ends.

In the dim light, he slowly caught his breath, taking in the guild's favorite kind of décor—nothing. Just bare walls, worn floors, and enough dust to make his lungs cry. Made sense though, hard to get nosy about a place that looked abandoned.

They didn't waste time on fancy signs—just a beaten-up door with some daggers and runes carved in. A perfect spot down in the Underbelly where folks wouldn't want to get their boots dirty, he'd seen most walk right past it like it wasn't even there. But if you knew what to look for? Those runes had a way of catching your eye, like they were saying, yeah, you found us with a little magical flourish. Real subtle, unless you had an invitation burning a hole in your pocket.

The Pandaren monk squared up across from him, all calm smiles despite the dust coating his black and white fur. He looked harmless enough in those simple robes—nothing obvious like the elf's own muscles. But there was something in how he moved, even just standing there that made Deyn's instincts stand up and pay attention. A beam of light cut through the ceiling grate, moving dust motes above them—Dalaran's fancy streets worlds away from the underground ring. Even on a bad day, there were no distractions here.

They faced off inside a training circle—carved right into the floor with that annoying magical line that lit up whenever you got too close. Cross it and you're out, complete with a stupid little chime Deyn had heard way too many times lately. His foot was hovering right at the edge thanks to that last leg sweep (which he definitely should have seen coming). Technically he hadn't stepped over it yet, but the mentor's knowing look and that sharp tsk said enough. Message received—luck wasn't going to cut it here.

He chuckled at Deyn's awkward balancing act. “Ah, young one, your idealism again betrays you,” his smile widened. “While your charms are indeed delightful, they continue to obscure the clarity needed in combat.”

Deyn groaned, “Look, how about something I can work with so I don't eat stone?” 

The Pandaran shook his head, “Then you must revisit what remains unlearned. An enemy's counter will offer a lesson far more harsh than my words. Duels are rarely settled in the bedchamber with—”

“—Alright, alright. Got it.” Deyn cut in with a scoff. Clearly he wasn't going to get more out of him.

Growing up on Quel'thalas' coast meant he missed out on all that Silvermoon polish, but he picked up his own kind of charm—the kind that worked better in taverns than fancy parties anyway. Between his dad's lessons at the forge and natural confidence, he'd figured out pretty quick that a well-timed grin could open as many doors as proper manners.

Even now you could see where he came from. The weaponsmith's build obvious in how his leather harness barely contained those shoulders. And a smile that worked as well in Dalaran as it had back home. But the staff propped against the wall told a different story. One that really started in the misty peaks of Pandaria, far from Quel'thalas' endless spring. Trading punches with demons and dealing with the Void had a way of changing a person. Made all those Pandaren lessons about inner balance hit home when you were literally fighting darkness.

“Then show me a true counter, fine hero.” The sarcasm caught a huff from the elf.

“Your legendary beauty...not quite my taste, old one,” Deyn smirked.

The Pandaran shrugged, “Skill provides its own allure. Though the lesson will need to be learned, eventually.”

His eyes narrowed, “If your martial skill was half as storied as your conquests, well, you would offer an undeniable challenge. Even to me.”

Deyn barked out a laugh—a bit too loud—pacing like a caged animal. His eyes fixed on the floor, shoulders tight. The Pandaran knew what to say, telling him he couldn't do something.

Ignoring the bravado, a paw lifted, “Again.”

[mochimelt]

Destiny-tober, #5; Dreadnaught

I wasn't around for the Taken King, so this is all based off my bf's knowledge and google images.

“What the fuck is that bigass thing?”

“You're gonna have to be more specific Risk. We're in the middle of nowhere, space. There's a lot of bigass things out here.“ Cricket replied through the comms, an annoyed sigh toward the end.

Risk twisted in their seat, eyes locked on the massive contraption beside their ship. They pulled on the steering controls and the ship slowed. Beside them, their Ghost Styx took control of the ship as their hands left the wheel, stabilizing it and making sure they didn't run into any debris.

A giant cylinder-like thing floated beside the gas giant Saturn. The rocks of it's rings kept a wide circle around its jagged black hull, not a dent or a scratch visible on it. It was hard to see the details, but impossible to miss the green glow pulsing on the sides of the construct.

”Uh, big fucking construct in the middle of Saturn's rings, all black and a little green..“ Risk squinted slightly through their helmet. ”Like a messed up cylinder.“

”The Dreadnaught?“

”The fuckin' what now?“

Cricket sighed through the comms. Risk could almost hear the way he shook his head and hid his face in his palm.

“The Dreadnaught. It's a massive ship that used to be the Throne World of Oryx before we killed him.”

“Oryx?”

“Light, you didn't listen to anything Horizon told you about our history, did you?”

Risk chuckled, leaning back in their seat. Cricket groaned on the other end of the line. His footsteps rang across the comms, sounds of metal and concrete around him. He was stationed back at the Hangar, in the Tower, just to relay communications to Risk as they patrolled the general area of the gas giants.

“The Dreadnaught was the Throne World of the Hive God Oryx, the Taken King.” Cricket groaned through the mic. “We killed his son, Crota, and he came back for revenge. Or something. I wasn't a part of it.”

“Damn, that's a hell of an accomplishment. Killing a Hive Prince?”

Cricket hummed. Risk wrung their fingers together behind their head, leaning into their hold on the back of their seat, eyes staring up at the ceiling of their ship.

“Bet I could kill 'em.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

Risk broke out into laughter at Cricket's immediate denial. One of their hands grasped at their side, a slow pain growing in their chest. They could barely hear some of Cricket's laughter through the comms.

“You say that like I didn't kill Nezarec.”

“We killed Nezarec. Our Fireteam.” Cricket coughed, cutting off his laughter. “Though I'd say Oryx was more dangerous.”

“He was the Taken king.” Cricket continued at Risk's hum. “Creator of the Sword Logic. Master of the Taken, the one who harnessed the ability to destroy a person from the inside and use their body for his own goals. One of the original three Hive Sisters.”

“Sisters? Damn, trans rights I guess.”

“Don't say that about a Hive God who killed so many Guardians.” Cricket's voice dropped low and Risk raised their hands in surrender, though he couldn't see them.

“Fine, alright.. Sorry.”

A quiet pause followed, several moments passing by, the tension of their words slipping away. The ship truly was beautiful in a fucked up way, sharp spikes poking out from the ends, the sickly green glow shining across the jagged, cracked features. Risk was almost tempted to try and land on it.

“Get back on task. Don't even think of approaching it.”

They sat up with a sigh and their fingers wrapped around the steering wheel once more. “How'd you know?”

“You're Risk. You always choose the stupidest possible option in any given situation.”

”Pfft. Fucker.“

”Yeah, yeah. Get going.“

[bel1ewrites]

could you write sam and reader getting into an argument because sam is so overprotective and tries to keep reader at home to keep her safe from ghostface but reader wants to go out, reader accidentally lets a “fuck you” towards sam slip during the argument and sam immediately puts her back in her place with smut please, i love the way you write sam so much

a/n: dropped everything I was doing to write this and all of a sudden its 2 AM??? Anyway, I love this.

A Slipping Mind (Samantha Carpenter x Reader)

Description: Sam always knows what's best for you.

WC: 1.8k

Warnings: toxic relationship, very slight mentions of murder, possessive!Sam, smut, praise kink, fingering, slight dumbification, top!Sam, bottom!reader, etc.

“I DON'T know what you want from me, Samantha! Its like you won’t let me be my own fucking person,” you seethed, pressing your fingertips to your temple in an attempt to calm yourself down. The person you argued with remained quiet, face impassive as she closed the door to your apartment and stripped off her jacket.

“You’re not going.” She said, voice stern and even. “End of discussion-”

“-Like hell it is,” you interrupted. But even as you said this your voice shook, and you wondered when her emotions would boil over and result in another fist through the wall. Ultimately, there was no going back. “I bought a costume for this party. I canceled plans for this party. I got a goddamn tattoo for this party-”

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you did or didn’t do for this frat party, y/n.” She sighed, interrupting you this time. “It's Halloween weekend. He could be anywhere, and here you are acting like a child while I’m trying to protect you.”

“I can protect myself.”

“Right. Because that went so well the last time.”

“Of course you’re gonna bring that up right now,” you nodded in exasperation and bit your knuckle, stomping into your shared bedroom and tearing off your shirt. “Real fucking mature, babe.”

Sam followed close behind you, watching as you grabbed your costume out of the closet. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want me to wait for you to get stabbed again?” She quipped before ripping the fabric from your hands and stepping close to you, forcing you to back up against the wall. Your chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, bra clad breasts brushing against her shirt with her proximity. “Or maybe you want me to say it to your grave after they find you dead in a fucking alley.”

“Fuck you.” you pushed out through gritted teeth as phantom pain from your last encounter with a murderer flooded through your lower stomach. The scarred skin puffed out in a jagged pale line.

The browns of her irises disappeared as her pupils dilated. She was looking down at you with a predatory glare; not unlike that of a caged lion. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

Your head tilted up. "Go fuck yourself," you laughed humorlessly, pushing roughly against her chest and wincing as she shoved you back against the wall with little to no effort. 

Her tongue peaked out to wet her bottom lip, mouth morphing into a malicious smile. "Why would I do that when I could just fuck this attitude out of you?"

Her right hand wrapped around your throat to keep your head back against the wall and in place as she slammed her lips to yours harshly, her other hand dropping the costume. It was messy. Teeth and tongue and demanding lips all working together to force you into submission. 

At first you fought back, squirming in place with your body pinned between her and the wall. You kept your lips stagnant and wrapped your hands around her wrist in a pathetic attempt to remove her hand from your neck. All she did was reach behind your back with her free hand, unclasping your bra with ease and smirking against you as you momentarily forgot to fight against the lust building within you, lips moving like fire against hers. 

“There she is.” Her voice was unhinged as she murmured against you. Her thumb dug into your jugular, feeling the blood pump as your heart struggled to keep its pace.

You could feel yourself giving in, brain struggling to remember why you were fighting in the first place; body relaxing in her grasp and hands dropping to your sides. “You’re crazy.” You insisted as a last ditch effort to maintain some ounce of your dignity. 

“You fucking love it.” She countered, moving her lips off of yours and nipping at your jaw, pulling at your bra until it fell from your body. 

As soon as those four words left her mouth, you were a goner. She had you where she wanted you, reading your mind like it was a picture book. You did love it. You loved it so much you hated it. “I do,” you relented, voice pitching up when she bit your earlobe; mouth in the shape of a knowing smile. 

Using the grip she had on your neck, Sam pulled you back from the wall and turned the both of you around, guiding you expertly toward the bed. “You don’t wanna go to that party, baby.”

Your back hit the mattress with a light thud, brain all light and foggy. 

“You’d rather stay here, with me.” She assured. “Isn’t that right?”

You gasped when her lips fell to your neck and instantly located your weak spot. “Mhm…” came your hummed agreement. “With you.”

Her hands began to wander, skimming over the peaks of your breasts and tracing each rib with her lithe fingers. Her nails dug into your hips as she took her time devouring you. Her shirt rubbed up against your bare nipples with each shift and you thought you’d go crazy because of her. Your mind was slipping.

Teeth dug into your clavicle, a moan escaped you against your will. “Wait, Sam.” You panted weakly. “Wanna… wanna go t-”

“-Shhh, pretty girl. Don’t think.” She shifted down your body and breathed against your sternum. “Just lay here and be good like I know you can. Let me make you feel good.”

Her lips pressed against the valley between your breasts, trailing kisses along the underside of your tit and nipping lightly at the swell of your flesh. Shifting desperately, you brought your hands to the nape of her neck and pulled her mouth to your nipple needily. 

Warm lips encompassed one nipple, rolling the other between her skilled fingers. Your hips twitched up when she sucked, tongue rolling over the hardened bud and fingers tugging at the other simultaneously. Her unoccupied hand moved to pull at the button of your jeans with the sureness of an expert. When she got it undone, she detached her mouth from you and moved to the other side. 

As soon as she felt both nipples had fair treatment, she moved down your body and unzipped your jeans, pulling them off of you and finding you bare beneath them. The sight set her mind ablaze, dripping cunt throbbing and naked and waiting for her. 

Her hands gripped your thighs roughly and pushed them far apart. “You were made for me.” 

She kneeled between your legs and dragged her fingers through the soaked heat that rested between them. “I’d never let you go to that stupid fucking party; never let anyone see what’s mine.”

You pushed your hips toward her, watching as she sucked her fingers clean with a hum. “Let me see those pretty eyes.”

Her eyes stared into yours, soaking in the way your lashes fluttered and your mouth fell open as she pushed two fingers into you. Her jaw clenched and her other hand grabbed onto your hip for balance. 

Your back arched against the mattress, cunt sucking her fingers in and clenching tightly as if trying to prevent them from leaving. Your head was spinning and Sam was the only thing that kept you grounded. She tethered you to the earth with the hand on your hip and sent you spiraling off of it with each move of the other. Groans spilled from your throat like blood; the sound pooling around you and encouraging her fingers to move faster. 

Each and every cell in your body was devoted to the woman before you. She knew you like the back of her hand. She knew how to make you fold, how to make you laugh, how to make you cry, and how to make you cum like no one else ever had. In turn, you knew how to satisfy her need to possess you. 

Her bicep tensed with each thrust, fingers moving in a rhythm she’d mastered a long time ago. “You’re the only one who can fuck me like this.” You panted, forcing your eyes to stay open so you could watch her own you.

“Yeah?” her hand pounded into you with more force. “Talk to me. Tell me every little thought in that head of yours.”

Sam wasn’t there anymore. She didn’t have the calm and loving look on her face you’d grown accustomed to. No, this was a different person. Her eyes were wide and wandering, teeth bared and veins poking out from her hands and forearms as blood pumped through her body. 

“You’re so beautiful like this.” You told her. Her hand moved off of your hip and rubbed at your neglected clit, making it hard for you to focus on your words. “So fucking raw-”

“-I want you to say you love me when you cum.” She grunted out as soon as she felt your walls start to squeeze her tighter. Sweat dampened her forehead, hair sticking to it and making her look even more disheveled. 

The orgasm was building and building. Every muscle in your body was taught with the sheer force of its impending arrival. All of your senses were on fire. You could feel her everywhere, in your mind and under your skin, fingers pressing into you just right; puzzle pieces sliding into place. The smell of sex filtered through your nostrils, the sounds of her fucking you flowing through your ears. The thing that overwhelmed you the most was the way she was looking at you like you completed her. 

“Fuck- fuck,” you moaned as your hands grasped the sheets beneath you. 

“Come on, baby. Say it.”

“I love you, I love you-” you were cut off by the mind numbing sensation that overtook you. Your orgasm crashed over you at five hundred miles per hour, stripping your head of all thoughts. 

Sam watched as you arched off the bed, slowing her thrusts as you shuddered and tensed and shook like a leaf. 

“There you go,” she smiled down at you. “You’re doing so good. Ride it out.”

You were beneath her, neck strained and still moaning incoherently. For at least a minute you stayed that way. She’d pulled out of you and began massaging your shaking thighs while she waited patiently for you to come down. 

When you finally did, the first words she said were, “I bet you’re glad you didn’t go to that party.”

[hqcult]

EYELINER ## suna rintarou

trying to apply his eyeliner would've been easy if only rintarou can keep his hands to himself.

. tw smut, dom suna, established relationship, fingering, oral f receiving, edging, dirty talk, slight exhibitionism, mind break, unprotected sex, pwp . wc 4k

"ugh, he's gonna do it again." you mutter, eyeing suna's hand as it skims around your vanity desk for his favorite brand of eyeliner. for some reason everybody naturally finds themself drawn to suna rintarou, even if he was always so stoic and detached. 

you hate how girls would flock around him in parties as they stare at his kohl-lined eyes or at the painted black nail polish whenever you disappear to get a drink, knowing full well what kind of thoughts are running in their heads because you, for sure, thought of him the same way. alright. we get it. your boyfriend can be a hot mofo if he wants to be and his idgaf attitude just adds to the whole appeal.

we get it.

because you love him more than the stars in the galaxy combined, sometimes you can't help but feel jealous when people get too close to him. you really didn't want to be that type of girlfriend but sometimes you just like the assurance that he's all yours and nothing's wrong about that, right? plus, suna seems to exceptionally love when he gets you jealous and feral. he may always pretend otherwise but he loves staking his claim on you just as much as you liked being claimed by him. 

"are you done yet?" you say, staring at him from your bedroom door frame. 

atsumu was throwing a party tonight and you were all dressed up and ready to go, just patiently waiting for your boyfriend. 

suna replies a beat later, not bothering to meet your eyes. "just a minute."

you just want his attention all on you. you don't even want to go to this stupid party and see all these people shamelessly flirting with him even if you were right there by his side. you just want to have some alone time with suna rintarou. 

and you may or may not have just come up with an idea to make that happen.

"where's the eyeliner? the one i always use?"

"it's not there? i know i left it there. wait, let me look." 

you straighten up, walking towards him in your red leather mini skirt that can make any man's eyes sliver down to your ass. 

suna is sitting on your swivel chair, leaning back in a man spread as he clicks his tongue impatiently. he looks good even in a plain shirt and a pair of ripped jeans, his athletic and tall build enough to make any outfit look good.

"are you sure it's not in the drawers?"

"yes, i already checked."

you pout, making a show of muttering "i swore i threw it in here," under your breath as you maneuver around his spread legs to stand in between them, bending forward as you rummage around where he's already looked twice. 

you know he's staring at your ass. suna was never lowkey with how much he loves you in this leather mini-skirt. it's a miracle he hasn't landed a rough spank yet after getting a face full view of your ass. 

"wait a minute, maybe it rolled under my vanity."

so you get down on your knees, making sure your butt grazes the front of his jeans and just like you predicted, suna was half-hard already. 

it was truly such a stroke to your ego but you focus on the task at hand. 

you arched your ass up as you bend down to look for the little tube of eyeliner, slightly shaking it side to side as you "struggle" to get the eyeliner out from underneath the table. 

when your hands feel the cylindrical plastic, you retreat, sitting up straight again and proudly showing your boyfriend the eyeliner in your hands. 

you made sure your eyes were as huge and innocent as they look, kneeling in between his legs, shins tucked in and hands in your lap like a good girl. 

"i found it!"

you could've sworn you've seen his left eye twitch as he stared you down. you've been with him long enough to notice that look in his eyes. what are you playing at, huh?

you wait for him to speak but you can see all the gears turning in his head as he continues to stare at you. 

you wait anxiously for what he's going to do next. maybe he'll make you suck him off, or he'll throw you on the bed, or spank your ass because you were clearly teasing him—

"why don't you put my eyeliner on for me?"

you stand up, opening the tube in as he shuts his eyes. you try not to let your disappointment show too much. fine. maybe you can just have a quickie later while drunk in one of the rooms in the frat house. 

"why are you standing? come sit on my lap while you're doing it."

you were too busy removing the excess product off the brush to notice his eyes had taken a dark turn, contradicting the gentleness of his warm hands as it snakes around the back of your bare thighs pulling you closer. 

"no, i'll mess this—"

"i said sit."

delicious shivers create goosebumps on your skin. 

you know that tone. he only uses it when he's horny and he wants to bend you over. so maybe your game plan did work after all, yet you're staring at him dumbfounded with the eyeliner brush in midair. 

"come sit. i won't repeat myself." he leans back against the chair, manspreading as he waits for you. 

you scramble to straddle his strong thighs, muscles a manifestation of his hard work and dedication to volleyball. it was great to see him in action on the court but you'd rather he flexed those muscles when you ride his thighs. 

you cup his face, getting all up in his personal space to apply the eyeliner. 

you've long grown out of the honeymoon phase but why is your heart beating so damn fast right now?

your hands were shaking, perspiration was building up in your forehead, and you were holding your breath.

"are you nervous?"

"shut up, rin. 'm not."

when the brush first touches the lid of his eyes, a nimble finger traces the expanse of your whole slit over your panties. 

you pull the brush away, hissing in surprise. 

"rintarou—!"

"what?"

his sharp tone isn't what shut you up, it was the hand cupping your sex. the heel of his wrist slowly grazing against your sensitive clit. you drew a sharp breath. he smirks. 

"go on. continue, doll."

you want to hate the teasing lilt in his voice but you know deep down you love it.

you held your breath, diving in once again to the task at hand whilst trying to ready yourself from his ministrations. 

your hand slightly shakes as you start in the middle of his waterline, slowly tracing the bottom part of his eyes before making a small wing at the end. 

you've seen him apply his own eyeliner so much you have this down to an art form. everything would've been easy if only he kept his hands to himself. you try to ignore the digit still feathering over your slit or the hand wrapping around you to bunch your skirt up around the waist. 

for someone whose eyes are closed he's doing a damn good job navigating. but maybe that's how he shows you're his. he knows your body like the back of his hand, he knows what makes you tick, what makes you pant, what makes you moan in ecstasy. 

"i can never resist when you dress up all pretty for me. you know that, right, doll?"

applying the eyeliner to his waterline had been fairly easy. the lash line, on the other hand, proved difficult. especially when suna's upgraded from tracing your pussy lips to dangerously toying with the elastics of your panties, slipping his finger under before stretching it to slap your skin. 

as you try to connect the upper part of the eyeliner to the small wing you made from his waterline, you hissed. 

"why don’t you pull them down?"

he chuckles at your impatience and you slightly pull the brush away as he finally shoves the fabric down. you gasp when the cold hits your wet cunt. the scent of your essence unmistakable and you know suna's holding back from teasing. 

"as you wish, baby."

as suna grows bolder, the more your hands shook as you worked on his other eye. 

just as the tip of the brush touched his left eye's waterline, he pushed two fingers inside of you, dragging them against your walls in a lazy manner that was so distinctly him. he curls his fingers when he fucks it in before dragging them against your walls when he pulls it out, slightly scissoring you. he uses his other hand to draw figure 8’s against your clit. 

you swallow, trying your best to keep your hand still as a surgeon but you see the jagged little curves where your jolts of pleasure were too strong. 

you never should've provoked him to shove your underthings down, at least then you wouldn't have to suffer through his fingers. they were just so long, so thick, and so experienced when it comes to pleasuring you that you can never touch yourself anymore without craving suna's own fingers instead. 

you bit your lip, the hand that was cupping his jaw tightening as you try to fix the little mistakes here and there, hoping suna won't see them when he inspects your work in the mirror. it doesn't matter that he purposely set you up to fail. there'll be consequences if he isn't satisfied with what you did. may god have mercy on your horny little soul if rintarou thinks you were a bad girl. 

"you just hate losing, don't you?" you hiss, jolting when you feel him slap your cunt. your knees nearly buckled and you almost fell off the chair if not for his sturdy hand on the small of your back. 

"what are you talking about? i'm just fingering my girl like a winner."

just as you started outlining his left lash line, suna shoves a 3rd finger into your sopping cunt. loud squelching noises fill the room as your walls pulsate around his thick digits. the metal rings he wore brushing against your pussy lips as he fucks you knuckle-deep with three fingers. involuntarily, your own hips started moving to match his pace, shamelessly thrusting up everytime he shoves his fingers in.

he knows you so well. he doesn't even need to look at your face, he can feel you out by the noises you make. so good. so good. his fingers feel so good. fuck. fuck. fuck.

until he pulls them out of your sopping pussy. 

"rin," you whine, folding into his shoulder as you struggle to balance your kneeling self on the chair. you blindly reach down for his hand, urging him to put his fingers back in. "rin, please don't stop. please please please—”

"i told you to put my eyeliner, not fuck yourself on my fingers," he leans back on the chair, eyes still shut close while licking his digits clean. 

your lips press into a thin line, eyes dilated as a whine starts to threaten to pass your lips. you're sick of whatever game this is, you just want him to fuck you silly already! but as if sensing your thoughts, suna clicks his tongue and speaks. "hurry it up. we have a party to get to."

without his fingers to plug your cunny, your slick runs down the insides of your thighs. it's slow descent against your skin making goosebumps run up your arms, shivering as the cold hits your bare cunt. 

suna must've known your anguish, he could feel his jeans getting soaked but he didn't care and you wish to punch that smug smirk off his pretty face. 

your fingers stilled when you cupped his cheeks and leaned in to start applying a thin stroke of eyeliner to his water line. with a simple flick of the wrist you ended it with a little wing, just like how your boyfriend likes it. now, you just have to do his lash line and—

you let out an audible gasp when his fingers started feeling around your thighs, having an inkling idea of what he's tryna look for. true to what you expected, he traces the line of your dripping slick up your inner thighs until his fingers graze your nether lips, successfully collecting your essence. 

you stare entranced when suna brings them up to his lips, eyebrows furrowed and almost moaning aloud because of your taste. the fact that his eyes are closed made you want him even more. his fingers pop out of his mouth, but you get the feeling it wasn't enough. he wants more. suna wants you under his mercy. he wants to taste and ruin you until you're fucked out and lying in a pretty mess on the bed sheets. 

"so fucking sweet, my baby. you're this desperate for me? for my fingers?"

you snapped. you threw the makeup elsewhere in the room (though not before screwing it shut) before diving down to kiss him on the lips. all lust-filled and rough as you both channel the desires you have for each other. maybe suna was at his tipping point too, noting that he doesn't even bother to push you away. 

with his strong arms he picks you up and you wrap your legs around his torso, never breaking the kiss before literally throwing you down on the bed, knocking the air out your lungs. 

"rin!"

"whoops."

he's kneeling before the bed, the sheets ruffling when he pulls you to the edge by your calves, hot breath against your sex making you squirm. 

"my pretty thing," the kitten lick against your pussy drove you crazy, desperately bucking your hips up and suna chuckles condescendingly. "but such a bad fuckin' girl, aren't ya?"

you yelp when he slaps the side of your thigh. 

"who said you could kiss me?"

he pinches your clit hard as he enters your line of sight. suna has never seen you this pretty and desperate for him before. sweat making your skin glow, lips raw from your biting, eyes conveying your every lust-filled thought about him. the sight of you so riled up makes his dick ache and he wants so badly to fuck you already but bad girls don't get what they want just yet. you have to earn it. 

"i asked you a question. who the fuck told you that you could fucking kiss me?" the acid in his voice contrasts the gentle way he caresses the spot on your thigh where he had hit you. 

"no one."

you sob in pleasure when his hot tongue licks a stripe up your pussy before suckling on your clit. once. twice. sucking particularly hard on the third. before running his tongue swiftly over the bundle of nerves and kitten licking his way down your pussy lips. your thighs were shaking so hard he had to pin them down. he knows it's a sign that you're close, not that he's surprised, he's been stimulating your body for minutes now it was amazing you haven't cummed yet. 

but then he stops.

a thread of your slick dribbling down his chin as those cat eyes of his stare you down. he watches, enchanted by how your chest rises and falls. another sweet release he snatched away from you.

"i thought so. what does that make you?"

amazing how he manages to sound so normal, conversational even while he's literally edging you like there's no tomorrow. what do you expect? it's his favorite punishment. he gets to see you sob and beg for him like there's nothing in your mind but his cock and he loves it so much. loves seeing you bend and break for him to please. 

you sniffle, arm coming up to hide the frustrated tears in your eyes. "been… been a bad girl."

a hand slaps your thighs, brutal. eyes on rintarou when answering his questions. your eyes shoot up. 

"and who's bad girl have you been?"

"yours."

this time he reaches forward to tweak your pebbled nipples. the sudden cold of the pads of his fingers making you gasp and spasm. your boyfriend straddles you and you shiver at the head of his glistening cock leaving trails on top of your thighs. but he doesn't make another move. when you sneakily try wiggling your hips for your sex to graze his dick, he slapped your thigh without holding back. you doubt it won't start leaving a handprint. you wait with bated breath when he grabs hold of his cock, the head angry and dripping, the only proof of his also growing desire for you. 

when he directs the head for it to graze your nether lips, you almost cried another fresh batch of tears. his hand quickly brushes up to wipe it away, though not before feeling his dick twitch. you know how much he loves seeing you cry from the overwhelming pleasure he can give you. 

"last time i checked, my name isn't yours. didn't i tell you to answer in full sentences when i'm fucki—"

"suna! suna rintarou! i've been sun-suna rintarou's bad girl!"

suna ducks to mark your neck and torso. he feels the goosebumps forming on your body. the heat enveloping the two of you as you both quickly shed any remaining pieces of clothing. he kisses you. sloppy. nothing but teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance as he cradles your face with his big hands, feeling the mushroom head of his cock grazing your thighs.

usually he'd appreciate you not cutting him off mid-sentence but he too has reached his own limits and right now all he can think about is drilling you to the mattress. "rin, please!" you sob, arms wrapping around his neck as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck.

"shh. yes, doll. i hear ya." 

you were dripping wet enough that all it took is one deep thrust for him to bottom-out. usually you're quite hesitant when rintarou's rawing you but at this point right now, you doubt fucking with a condom would've felt this good. no thin plastic whatsoever that's separating you from him. when he starts to move, you both moan in ecstasy. the bed creaking under the weight of you both as he pistons his dick inside. "you feel so good, doll. so fucking wet and tight. look how wet you are. dripping for my cock, huh? this all for me? answer me!"

you hardly register his voice, the pleasure you've been craving since minutes ago now being crashed down upon you. it's overwhelming and you don't want it any other way. 

"yes," you pant. the tears still leaking from your eyes as you claw at his biceps. "yes. all-all for you, r-rin! just for you!"

he stubbornly keeps hitting the spot that'll make you keen and whine, suna forcing your hips down and sitting up with his palms at the sides of your head. he wants to see you come undone, he'd love to grab his phone and make this memory permanent but he doubts his camera can capture the real deal. your moans and pleas reaching his ears, spurring him on, the beautiful way your back arches of the mattress, the way you physically shook in pleasure and you screamed and worshipped his name.

"rin! oh my god, rin! fuck. 'm close," your voice breaks, hiccuping from the onslaught of tears you can't hold back as blinding pleasure grips you in a tight vice.

suna comes down to snake his arms around you, pulling you infinitely closer as one of his hands supports your lower back, manually moving your hips to match his frantic thrusts. "why you crying? bad girls should be tough, right? aren't—shit—aren't you a bad girl? hmm? bad girls like you shouldn't be crying."

you shake your head, looking pretty and desperate as you meet his eyes. "no, i'm not a bad—"

"yes. you are," you groan, his thrusts particularly hard to shut you up and make a point. "you're a very, very bad girl. you don't listen to me at all. bad girls don't even deserve to cum."

"no! no! rin, please!" you say, a blubbering mess as you bury your forehead into his neck, licking and suckling at his skin to get in his good side. "i'll be good. i promise! please, let me cum. rin! please, i'll be good. i'll be good! only your good—ah."

"you fucking bet you're my good girl," he hissed, biting your shoulder before moaning, pitched and wanton as it threatens to snap the stretched cord inside of you. but not yet. you can't. not unless he says so. "it's me that's making you feel this good. this is my pussy. my plaything. repeat what i said—doll! repeat what i said."

you cried, screaming in frustration as his cock stills inside of you and you know he won't move until you oblige. "this is…" you hiccup. "rin-rintarou's pu-pussy. i'm rintarou's play-plaything."

"what was that?" he asks, hips starting to rut against you again in full force. the headboard violently hitting the walls. when your hands scramble to cling onto something, you accidentally shove something off the bed but you couldn't care less. "louder, doll. i want the whole fucking neighborhood to hear you."

"this is rintarou's pussy. i'm rintarou's plaything." you say in your normal speaking voice, albeit shaky and almost incomprehensible as he holds you firm against him, his cock embedding it's shape and size into your sopping walls.

"louder!"

he hoists you up into a sitting position, his hips fucking up towards you and you only realize he did it when you see the window situated meters behind you two. curtains-drawn, open for the night breeze to billow in. he wasn't kidding. suna rintarou wants the neighbors to hear how good you're getting rawed. he wasn't kidding. he was not kidding.

"go on," he whispers, breathy and teasing. "you'll do it. you're a good girl for me arentcha?"

fuck. "this is rintarou's pussy! i'm rintarou's plaything!"

he licks a stripe up your neck, hands coming around your neck as he whispers into your ear the words you've been dying to hear. "cum, baby."

and your orgasm surges through your whole body in violent jolts, thick ropes of cum squirting out your pussy as you distantly hear him groaning, your walls tightening and sucking him in with every aggressive thrust. rintarou quickly finishes after you, teeth embedding themselves into your shoulder as he groans. you knew bruises will form and you're going to be sore as a bitch but you don't fucking care.

"rin, i love you." you say, grabbing a hold of his face as you stare deep into his eyes. and you don't understand why there's doubt clouding in your head when he takes a beat later to answer, when really, he just can't help the sudden wave of emotions festering in his stomach as he meets the gravity of your gaze. the love and devotion in your eyes as he can only hope that he could translate his emotions through his eyes, too.

he smiles, leaning in to give you a kiss. it's sweet and gentle, completely unlike the one he gave you a few minutes ago when in the throes of pleasure. no. you feel every bit of his love for you in this one kiss and you don't know why you ever doubted yourself, doubted him. you've been together for so long and you're it for him. 

"i love you, too."

but leave it to your darling rintarou to ruin the moment.

"but you'll never apply my eyeliner ever again."

. a/n » this was so self-indulgent im sorry lmao

[ladyanput]

Ok so this is the third time that I'm sending you an ask tonight. (or is it night time in your country?) I'm being annoying right now but whatever. So I've been cackling about those salt fics you wrote because they are just amazing. I have a request, though it is up to you to write it or not. So, can you write a salt fic where someone got an interview with Ladybug (probably Aurore) and then they ask her why they replaced the old heroes like Rena Rouge, Carapace and etc. and LB is just like I don't work with dumb shits or somethin'. Then there is also a new Black Cat (Probably Luka, Felix, or Damian) because Adrien here is an asshole and this fic is saltier than salt water. Then LB also insults Alya's blog and their school. Those foolish mortals get some lawsuits and the rest is up to you. (This request is probably messed up since it's already midnight here and I can't sleep.)

You're never annoying, I just apologize that it took me so long to get to you. I do hope you don't hold it against me, darling.

A one on one interview with Ladybug was basically unheard of if you weren't the Ladyblog or Nadja Chadwick. Ladybug had made it firm that she wasn't a celebrity, she was a hero. She wasn't there for clout, for attention, for fame or fortune. She just wanted to keep Paris safe.

That's was Aurore admired about her. And why she felt queasy as she sat across from the heroine, who had given her of all people an interview. But she got ahold of herself, taking deep breaths as the cameraman began counting down. And when he hit 'one', she put on her best smile and straightened in her seat.

"Hello Paris! Welcome back to 'Latest Buzz'! I am your lovable host, Aurore Beauréal. Today I am here with a very, very special guest, our very own heroine of Paris; Ladybug!"

Ladybug beamed right at the camera, but gave a shy little wave, giving away the nerves she obviously had.

"Now, Ladybug, I'm so glad you requested to be on the show. You know, I initially thought I had misheard when Estelle told me. Usually you're not big on personal interviews." Aurore gave her full attention to Ladybug, but keeping the bright, friendly smile and perfect posture.

"Well, I tried a few times actually. But when I did, none of them were really great experiences." Ladybug admitted and both girls immediately thought of that disastrous Face-to-Face interview. It left a bitter taste in their mouths. "My issue is that misinformation has been spread around a lot recently. It's made me realize that I need to find more trustworthy sources."

"Ladybug. I vow on my integrity as a host and Estelle's reputation as a journalist that we are people who research facts. We don't ambush our guests, we respect them." She said, placing a hand on her heart. Ladybug saw an honesty in her eyes that she hadn't seen in such a long time. It honestly made her feel.. Respected. "Now, Ladybug.. We both know you have a lot of fans. A lot of admirers. False information can be spread so easily these days, which sources specifically are you telling people to avoid?"

"Well.. With Face-to-Face, I found that I was entirely ambushed in that interview. I wanted to speak about my hero work, but instead Nadja kept trying to needle her way into my personal life. That picture she had shown in largely out of context; when Dark Cupid attacked and Chat Noir was under his spell, it was the only way to get him free."

"Yes, I remember watching that. I'll be honest Ladybug, I felt bad for you." Aurore bit her lip, but smiled a bit when Ladybug nodded. "I mean, Chat Noir wasn't helping either. He seemed to be trying to push this narrative forward that you two are a couple."

"And we're not!" Ladybug burst out before she could stop herself. Everyone in that studio could hear the utter stress and frustration in her voice. "I've begged and begged Chat Noir to stop with the flirting, the 'telling people we're dating', everything! I just wanted him to focus and he couldn't seem to do that!"

"Is that why you replaced him? Because of his slacking off and refusing to take anything seriously?" Aurora sat up an bit straighter, her eyes going wide.

".. Not exactly, no. It was a bunch of issues that eventually piled up and boiled over." Ladybug made some gestures with her hands, trying her hardest to find the words but just letting out a long and pained sigh in the end. "I do enjoy my new partner now. He is more serious, more stable. I know he won't go off and pout if I deny something he wanted. I needed an entirely new team, as a matter of fact."

"Well I am going to say, on behalf of everyone here, that we're glad. We swear on our integrity as journalists that if such rumours were to ever surface again, we will do our proper research." Aurore beamed and many of the staff and crew behind the cameras nodded and gave Ladybug their thumbs up. Honestly, it warmed Ladybug's heart to see such support.

When had been the last time someone had supported her like this? Sure, her parents supported her, but her friends..? Her peers? No, none of them had supported her in a long time.

"Speaking of research, I'd say to stay away from the Ladyblog." It burned to say it but it had to be said. Alya had crossed so many lines it wasn't even forgivable at this point. She had gone too far, had betrayed too many.

"Wait, what?" Aurore nearly jumped out of her seat but quickly composed herself, taking a deep breath. "Pardon me Ladybug, but the Ladyblog has been a vital source of information since the very beginning."

"And I'm not denying that!" Ladybug quickly held up her hands, her eyes desperate now. "But please let me explain. The Ladyblog was amazing in the beginning, but like all things, it started to go astray. It was things like trying so hard to find out my identity. Trying to push that narrative of that whole superhero couple thing.. Ladyblogger Alya Césaire has proven time and time again that she is not trustworthy. I mean, I thought she was my biggest fan. Why does she keep pushing my words aside?"

Many people who watched the interview would agree. If you idolized someone, respected someone, truly looked up to them.. Why would you push aside their words, their wishes to try and push the narrative you're so convinced is true, but isn't there?

"And don't get me started on the whole Lila Rossi craze she seemed to be on now." At Ladybug's mention of Lila Rossi, both Estelle and Aurore had to keep from rolling their eyes. They knew all about the girl.

"You speak as if you are quite frustrated, Ladybug. What an odd reaction to your best friend." Aurore leaned forward a bit in her seat. Everyone else got to the edge of theirs. Ladybug only shook her head, looking utterly defeated.

"That's the thing, she isn't my best friend." It took everything to keep from satin that she hated her, that she had taken away her friends and her life. "The only times she's met Ladybug is when she's been akumatized, which has been around six or seven times at this point. And the other things she's claiming are so outlandish! Saving Jagged Stone's kitten from a airport runway? Clara Nightengale stealing her dance moves? And the Ladyblog just posts it out there, claiming every single story is true. I'm just scared that people are taking this one hundred percent seriously. That's why I had to drop Rena Rouge and Carapace from the team as they believed Lila Rossi over me. They didn't even try to confirm these rumours! And it hurts to think that one day, someone will take Lila's words seriously and get hurt. What if she says it's safe to dip strawberries in bleach? Or tells someone that she found a way to tame some kind of wild animal? Someone would get hurt because they believe her story and try it out for themselves!"

"My goodness, I can definitely see how that is a problem. Misinformation is very easy to spread thanks to the internet, so you being worried is a very relatable thing." Aurore nodded, then tilted her head ever so slightly. "Ladybug, do you know anyone who has taken her word seriously? This is besides the Ladyblog of course."

Ladybug closed her eyes briefly, mentally debating with herself before finally giving in. These things needed to be said.

"Collège François DuPont. Now I wasn't there personally, but I heard about this situation and looked into it. The entire situation was appalling. Apparently a student was found to have cheated, assaulted another student, and commited thievery. But the thing that stuck out is only one person saw her do all of these things; Lila Rossi. No investigation was done, no questioning other students. This student was then expelled immediately. Her teacher and her principal didn't even give her a chance. And from what people have been saying, Miss Rossi's behaviour is actively encouraged in that school. She misses countless days, no, months of school, claiming she's traveling. But when she was supposedly in Achu, doing whatever it was she was claiming with Prince Ali, I was fighting her akuma here in Paris on Heroes Day!"

"I was at school the day that happened. I knew the student that happened to. They're the nicest person in that school! Never a bad thing to say about anyone, always willing to help! I agree with you on how things were handled, it's a level of incompetence that is baffling." Aurore's hands slowly curled into fists as she remembered it all. She slowly shook her head. "The principal, their teacher, their class who backed up Rossi. It must have hurt them so much, made them feel so alone."

"That's why I want people to be more careful with what information they take as fact. It's so important, because stuff like that can lead people to a desperate place. They feel alone, like the entire world is against them. I wouldn't have let the principal and the teacher get away with that gross negligence in their jobs." Ladybug leveled her gaze directly to the camera. "People of Paris, please listen to what I am saying. I am here to be a hero, to protect you from the terror of Hawkmoth and to defeat him. But please, do not be like Principal Damocles, do not be like that teacher and her class at DuPont. Do your research, look up your facts. Do not let a liar lead you to do something dangerous and hurt yourself as well as others. Respect each other, talk and be honest. I swear on my life that I shall do the same. You are the people I swore to protect and I love. I am saying this all to protect you. And I'll hope you'll all forgive me for not protecting you sooner."

...

The interview rocked Paris. Ladybug speaking so openly about her frustrations, about the discrepancies in the Ladyblog and Lila Rossi had many people double checking the sources of everything they learned from that blog.

Alya could barely show her face as she made her way though the school hallways. Her reputation as a journalist had gone down the drain. People had basically started boycotting her blog, harrassing her, or trash talking her on other forums and sites. Even a lot of news outlets picked this up.

What hurt the most from that interview last night was Ladybug's words towards her, both as Rena Rouge and as Alya. Surely the heroine had to be mistaken, she had never beytrayed Ladybug! And that Oblivio incident, it was just to show Chat Noir and Ladybug that they were meant to be together!

Her family was upset with her. No, upset was too tame of a word. They were pissed.

"I can't believe she lied to us.."

"Well what do you expect from someone who keeps harrassing Ladybug?"

Alya flinched when she heard the whispers and rushed into Miss Buster's class. The entire class was there, all seated, all looking utterly miserable. Many of them looked as if they had been crying all night. A lot like she had.

"W-where's Miss Bustier?" Alya asked when she eyed the empty desk. Many of her classmates shot her glares, but didn't say anything about the interview last night. After all, they had no room to talk.

"She and Principal Damocles are with the school board now. We're getting a new teacher." Adrien was the one that spoke up. He looked utterly miserable. So unlike his usual self.

"Lila isn't coming back. She was pulled from school when her mother found out what happened." Alix muttered from her seat, arms crossed and shoulders hunched.

The class went quiet as they all internally contemplated how things had gotten like this. Their eyes focused on the door when it abruptly opened and Marinette came strolling in, carrying a box.

"Good morning everyone!" She said brightly, pretending not to notice the downcast expressions on their faces. She set the box on the teacher's desk before she turned towards them. "Oh? What's wrong everyone?"

".. Did you not watch the interview with Ladybug on 'Latest Buzz'?" Alya stared at Marinette, a bit dumbfounded by her friend's lack of awareness of the situation. She had been expecting Marinette to rush in with support and a fiery vengeance against those who had humiliated her best friend, maybe even a fresh pastry. But instead she was greeted with empty hands and a cheerful hello?

"Oh, well I haven't really had the time to watch much television. I mean, with my transfer papers, needing to plan out my new schedule with all of those new classes. Busy as a bee, that's me!" Marinette just beamed, giving Adrien a playful wink that had his stomach churning.

"Wait, transfering?" It was Rose that spoke up, her large eyes seeming impossibly large now. "Transfer what?"

"To my new school, of course." Marinette giggled and clasped her hands together. "I start on Monday."

"New school?!" Alya was on her feet and rushing towards Marinette. The others quickly followed, crowding around her. "What do you mean new school?! When did you ever say you were going to a new school?"

Marinette blinked, as if stunned, then tilted her head ever so slightly.

"I told you all last week, don't you remember?" Marinette tapped her lower lip, seeming to be wracking her brain before she abruptly snapped her fingers. "Oh! I forgot, you all were deep in conversation with Lila about her upcoming event with Jagged Stone and Clara Nightengale. You know, the one she said she'd be attending with Ladybug, since they're such good friends. Did she ever say how it went?"

All of the students shifted uneasily, suddenly seeming to refuse to meet her face.

Alix murmured something so barely audible, Marinette held a hand to her ear and leaned closer.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Lila was lying to us!" Alix snapped as her cheeks went a flaming red.

"About everything! She never knew Jagged Stone!" Juleka spat out in fury.

"Or Prince Ali!" Rose sniffled.

"And she wasn't friends with Ladybug? They were barely acquaintances!" Alya wailed out as tears welled up in her eyes.

But Marinette hardly reacted the way they were expecting. She just gave them a small smile and nodded.

"Oh, yeah. I know."

Alya sucked in a breath sharply.

"You knew..? But why did you never..?"

"Oh Alya, you silly forgetful thing. I told you the day she returned from her long 'trip', remember? I told you she was lying." Marinette gave Alya a smile that said 'oh you silly thing'. "But you told me that I should really check my sources. And I got tired of trying to bring up any lies, since that was always your response. So I decided to just stop. I mean, since you're such an inspiring, honest journalist you must double and triple check every source you come across and found every story to be true!"

Alya flinched and looked away, feeling the churning feeling in her gut again. No, the Ladyblog had been the only source for the stories. The. Only. One.

"And I'm sure all of you knew what you were doing! I mean, it makes sense; trusting the words of a complete stranger over someone you've known for a while now. Some of you since we were in diapers!" She focused her gaze on Nino and Kim, who had the grace to at least look ashamed.

"Marinette, you really should-" Adrien began, reaching out for the girl, but was cut off by her clapping her hands together.

"But it's alright! I decided that fighting with you all wasn't worth it, so I took Adrien's advice and took the high road! Don't bother exposing Lila, she isn't hurting anyone!" Marinette announced brightly, giving her hands a little wave.

The temperature in the classroom dropped by several degrees.

".. Adrien, she's kidding, right?" Nino glanced over at his friend, his eyes pleading for him to deny it all. But the sight of the blood draining from the model's face and the sweat starting to bead at his forehead told him everything he needed to know. "Dude.."

"How could you?! You knew this entire time and didn't even try to tell me?!" Alya rounded on Adrien, fury in her eyes.

"Now, now, don't get mad at Adrien. I'm sure he knew you all were going to do you research. Besides, it's not like this did anything bad for anyone." Marinette pressed a hand to her cheek, still grinning. "I mean, it's not like you all took her advice without doing any research. You didn't try the things she suggested without actually checking them out to be true, right? No one lost any scholarships or job opportunities. No one's relationships were ruined. No one was hurt."

The nauseous feeling spread to all of the class as the reality of everything caught up with them.

"I'm sure everything will go back to normal, right? I mean, I'm sure that that woman from the education bureau isn't here to fire Damocles and Bustier for their severe neglect in their duties. Expelling me with the most mediocre and shaky proof. Surely that's a school I should feel safe in! That I should be proud to be a part of. But alas, my preparations for my new school are already done, so oh well."

Marinette shrugged and adjusted her purse strap.

"Anyhow, I wish you all luck with the amazing things Lila has helped you to do! I know it must have been worth ignoring me and convincing me I was crazy. With all of the free time I've had, with you guys practically replacing me with Lila in the group, I've had tons of time to spend with my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?!" Alya's eyes went owlishly wide as she gaped at Marinette. "But what about Adrien?!"

"Oh Alya, I fell out of love with Adrien forever ago." Marinette shook her head in an almost patronizing way that had Alya's cheeks burning with embarrassment. They didn't even pay attention to Adrien's noises of surprise. "I mean, you claimed I was jealous of Lila getting close to Adrien, that I should let the jealousy go. And you know what? You were right! So I decided Adrien wasn't worth the stress, the embarrassment.. I mean, I couldn't even talk to him straight. I thought he was the most perfect guy in the world! Goodness, did I learn my lesson!"

She giggled as if she found the entire thing amusing. She then beamed at the class.

"Well, ta-ta! I need to get back home and make sure everything is ready to go. I wish you all the best, I really do!"

They all watched, shellshocked as Marinette breezed out of the classroom like it was nothing. Like she wasn't leaving her friends, her school, her life behind. And they all would wonder exactly how badly they screwed up, if she could walk away do easily, without a care.

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[msmarvelwrites]

Come Over

Summary: If the world was ending, you'd come over right?

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: high levels of angst and fluffiness. Nothing crazy here babes.

Word Count: 990

Authors Note: We all know the song. I just needed to write something to get out of my head. Also, if anyone had Bucky's number, I lost it and I really need to call him. Thank you @navybrat817 her beta 💕

Your fingers danced across the back of your phone, his phone number twirling through your mind as you worried on your bottom lip. It was always nights like these, you wish the decision to call him was easy; like it used to be. But with all the space and time between you, pressing those ten digits were next to impossible.

Just do it.

Was it heartless?

To show up out of the blue after all was said and done? Would he be angry? It didn't seem like him, but you worried all the same. Here you were, a woman once whole and strong, now broken up and alone and so sick of pretending you didn't care anymore.

Your fingers moved at their own accord and before you knew it the phone began to ring. Once, twice, three-

“Hello?” His voice broke through the crackling dial tone, tone coated in that familiar gravel you loved to hear first thing in the morning. It always made your toes curl and body shiver when he said your name, words dripping in sleep.

“Hi, Buck.” Your voice came out so much smaller than you meant it to. Vulnerable and fully convinced that this was the cruellest of jokes. You had figured out how to live without him, so why was it so easy to pretend, as his voice rang through your ears, that nothing had changed?

“Y/n?” He sounded more concerned than confused, clearing his throat as you heard his bed screech beneath his weight.

“I hope it's okay I’m calling… I just, I thought that maybe…” You were losing your nerve, hands shaking and palms sweating. It had been almost a year this time, since you had heard his voice... And your name, the way he spoke it, so smooth and full of love.

Only now he spoke it like any other mundane word. Like he said it every day without care of thought. You wondered if he thought about the way it used to slide off his tongue like you did. How he packaged the name with such care and admiration.

“Is everything alright?”

Was it? Honestly, you weren't sure what the catalyst was that finally made you pick up the phone and dial. Now that you were here, were you okay?

“I... I don't know. I just wanted to hear your voice, I guess.” You regretted the words the moment they left your lips, the silence on the other end of the line was palpable even through the phone.

“Y/n,” Bucky sighed, and you could tell he was trying to find the right words, if there were any. “you can’t just-”

“I know,” You started, cutting him off and holding the phone away from your ear, as if to soften the impending lecture you were going to receive. “I know I lost the right to call you a long time ago. But… If we pretend the world is ending, you’d come over right?”

There was a quiet on his end that made you want to hurl your phone at the wall. You both had learned that you weren't cut out for forever, and yet here you were, torturing yourself with maybe’s and what ifs. As if it would be so easy to pick up where you left off. As if your jagged heart would even allow it.

“What are we talkin’ here?” The question cut you off guard, a lightness in his voice you never thought you’d hear again. “Global crisis… Tsunami… Earthquake?”

You paused, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as your heart began to swell. “I guess whatever would get you over here the fastest.” You answered honestly, and that made Bucky laugh. Just for a fleeting moment, it felt like no time had passed. Like you were still living in the Avengers compound and your heart still belonged to your soldier. Maybe it still did.

“Of course I would come over... “ Bucky took a breath, the tension in the room shifting you back to your reality. “But the world isn't ending, Doll. And you left.”

You hadn't realized you let a tear slip until it was rolling down your cheek pooling at the bottom of your phone.

“Is it wrong of me to say I wish I hadn't?” The question hung in the air, collecting static tension until he finally puffed out a breath. You could almost picture the face he was making, visualizing him sitting next to you on the bed.

“Y/n, I don’t know what to tell you?” He pleaded, his voice low as if he was afraid his voice would break.

“I don’t know what I expect to hear… But I miss you. I miss us. And I just wanted to know if you understood that.” You were begging to lose your strength, the same familiar ache prickling back up your throat. You hated yourself for begging- loathed the person you had crumbled into. Were you always this weak? Or was that just one of the side effects of falling in love with Bucky Barnes?

“Of course I understand that. And if you wanted me to, I’d be at your door tonight but-”

You knew asking him to drop everything and come to your rescue like he had so many times before was bordering on the territory of cruelty, and yet- drunk on the sound of his words and promises he had made so many nights before, you couldn't bring yourself to care.

“Come.”

You knew as soon as the word left your mouth, he would. You both were doomed to fall back into each other, no matter how many times you clawed your way out. Your brief time without him would never be for a lack of love, but a need for survival. Encompassed in his arms again, you couldn't exactly bring yourself to care how bad the next heartbreak would be, because tangled in your sheets and the promises to never wander again, there was only Bucky.

For now, that would be enough.

[sleptwithinthesun]

ok so

hear me out

ed/die with a horrible cold that he just can't seem to shake, and st/eve helps him feel better by playing mother hen

asjhkf yes. thank you. enjoy the 1.1K words of pure fucking angst and fluff i have written because goddamn i am in a Mood tonight

The problem with this whole situation, Steve realizes, is that Eddie's a chronic insomniac. He's already been over at his friend's trailer for the past thirty-six hours and counting, and somehow, Eddie hasn't even been able to take a nap. It's the complete opposite of how Steve himself is when he's sick; if he has so much as a cold, he'll be dead to the world for at least twelve hours. Eddie, though...

"You know, you're kind of awful at the whole 'being sick' thing," Steve comments, leaning down to pick up a tissue from the floor and drop it in the wastebasket next to the couch. And yeah, normally he'd be grossed out by just the thought of touching someone else's used tissue, but he's practically desensitized to germs now. Plus, it kind of helps that Eddie's absolutely miserable and hasn't even said a word about it, where normally he's all over the place with his theatrics. That's motivation if Steve's ever known it. "I mean, seriously, man, do you ever take a break?"

Eddie looks up from his D&D binder, caught red-handed planning out a new campaign, as Hellfire is a few days out from finishing the one they're currently on. The pencil in his right hand doesn't even stop writing as he glances up at Steve, meeting the other's gaze with hazy, red-rimmed eyes that (for once) aren't a result of having smoked weed. To be honest, he looks like death warmed over, what with the pale skin and flush high up on his cheeks. Coupled with the dark circles that've been developing under his eyes for the past few hours, he almost resembles a zombie, or vampire, or something along those lines. It's hard to think of run-of-the-mill supernatural creatures when you've been face-to-face with monsters from another dimension.

He draws in a breath, preparing to answer, but gets stuck on a coughing jag that doesn't end for a good fifteen seconds. By that time, Steve is already seated back at his side, a supportive hand placed on Eddie's back as he hacks into his elbow. "Christ, man," he murmurs once the fit ends.

"Yeah," is all Eddie says, breathless, a hand clutching at his shirt right over his chest. "Water?"

"Of course," Steve replies, grabbing the plastic water bottle they've been refilling off the table and passes it to Eddie, who takes a long swig before replacing the cap. "Are you okay?"

Eddie shrugs. "I mean, aside from the cold from hell that's totally kicking my ass? I'm fine, Steve. Just peachy." He then gives him a smile that looks more like a grimace, and Steve returns it with a small upturn of his lips that never makes it to the rest of his face. They're liars, the both of them, just pretending to be okay.

They sit in silence for a few moments more, until Eddie speaks again. "I don't think so."

"What?"

"Take a break. I don't think I do. Not often, anyway." Steve looks over at the other man, taking in the way exhaustion pulls at his features. "There's always something to do. Something to be worried about. And when you live like this," he says, gesturing around the trailer, with its thin walls and cramped rooms, "there's not much time to actually relax to the point where you feel safe, or less stressed that happens naturally. It's all just... temporary."

Maybe the light fever Eddie's been running is melting his brain, because there's no way Steve just heard what he thinks he did. For as long as Steve's known him, which, admittedly, is not that long, Eddie's always been in motion. He's not a relaxed type of person, unable to just brush everything off or claim that nothing bothers him, even if that's how he acts at school. The anxiety that constantly rippled under his skin made sense when they were dealing with Vecna, but now? When they're pretty sure they're never going to have to deal with the Upside Down again? The flightiness makes no sense, unless he takes into consideration what Eddie just said. He doesn't feel safe in his own home, so why would he anywhere else?

"Hey, Harrington? I didn't just break you or anything, right?" Eddie asks, cutting through the sudden fog of thoughts in Steve's mind. There's an underlying note of tension in his voice, likely because the last time someone checked out on him, she died.

"No, yeah, I'm fine," Steve says, blinking his way out of his brain. "It's just a lot to process all at once, you know?"

And Eddie draws back, just slightly, but enough that Steve notices. "Oh. Sorry, then, about dumping that on you."

"It's fine, really. I'm just not exactly used to the sentiment." Steve rushes to reassure him, almost eagerly admitting his own ignorance, and Eddie smiles. For real this time.

"What, not used to hanging out with poor people?" he teases, some of the tension bunched in his shoulders easing as he speaks. Steve rolls his eyes at Eddie, but doesn't bother to deny it. Besides, it's not like he's wrong.

"I'm just trying to broaden my horizons, you know, by spending my time with a crazy metalhead who somehow thinks it's a good idea to try and plan a campaign when his brain is slowly turning into mucus," Steve returns. The grin comes naturally to his face as Eddie gasps lightly, drawing a hand up to his heart in mock offense. Thankfully, it doesn't send him into yet another coughing fit, but he still waits for a careful beat before speaking again.

"Please, I could plan a campaign in my sleep. It might not be great, but I could totally do it," he says.

Steve raises his brows in mock-challenge. "Oh, yeah?"

"Absolutely."

"Well then, how about you go to your room and go the fuck to sleep?" he suggests, tone turning from playful to serious in half a second. "I mean, Eddie, have you slept at all since you got sick?"

Eddie shrugs, completely unfazed. "I mean, I did pass out for about four hours right before you got here, but since then? No."

"You're going to be the death of me, Munson," Steve sighs, standing and gently pulling Eddie up with him. The other man sways slightly, pressing a hand to his temple with the headrush and whimpering slightly, the sound only partially muffled. "You okay?"

"Mm," Eddie hums, the sound coming out more like a groan. "Just let me sit down again as soon as possible, m'kay?"

"Yeah, we can do that." Steve gets an arm around Eddie's shoulder and guides him through the hallway to his room as the other man runs his hand along the wall. He carefully stacks up the cassettes that're strewn across the bed, moving them to the dresser while Eddie practically flops onto his mattress. "Yeah, naptime for you."

Eddie huffs out a laugh, rolling so that he's face-down on his bed. His voice is muffled when he speaks. "Whatever you say, Harrington. Whatever you say."

And then he's out.