#rattling at my bars . idk what I’m doing anymore

[draculovemp3]

smh irresponsible smoking around creatures !

[bobfloydsbabe]

Happy Birthday!!! ^_^ Hope it's a great one, even if it's a quiet one. For your Blurb Night event! I'm doing this now, right now, because I want to be the FIRST to shoot you one of these!! :D

I would like a mutual pining, but the good one - you know the one: where the love IS reciprocated but both idiots are too caught up to realize it.

For Cecily Archer (I am exactly this kind of geek, I chose her because I noticed that 'Arrow' was her call sign haha ^_^) and Natasha Trace!!!

. . . may your Blurb Night be a stunning success!🥂

Day, my love, I'm so sorry this is so late. I didn't think burnout would hit me right around my birthday, but it did, so this took a while. Thank you so much for the birthday wish and for participating in blurb night. Enjoy this mutual pining for Arrow and Phoenix!

promise you'll be patient

SUMMARY: It's pining season at the Hard Deck for Natasha and Cecily

WARNINGS: Swearing, so much pining, a smidge of jealous!phoenix

WORD COUNT: 0.9k (idk what happened either)

Natasha was losing her mind.

Hangman had abandoned his fascination with Jas as soon as Cecily walked into the bar, and Natasha didn’t like it one bit.

She couldn’t blame him, though. Cecily was gorgeous. Kind, a badass, one hell of a pilot, and she was honestly surprised she hadn’t been called back to Top Gun at first. Turns out she was the spare in case something happened to the other aviators. Cecily was the spare, the second choice, and Natasha had never wanted to shout at admirals more.

She took a swig of her beer, trying to ignore the way her stomach did somersaults when Cecily laughed, or smiled in that way that made crinkles appear around her eyes and her cheeks look rounder. She even looked cute when frowning, which she did a lot while talking to Hangman.

Cecily’s backseater, Beacon, stood on the opposite side of the bar, waiting for his drinks. He raised one in a greeting to Natasha before he turned and headed back to his frontseater.

She only hummed in acknowledgement when Bob dropped onto the stool next to her, the salty scent of peanuts following him around the crowded bar.

Bob nudged her shoulder with his. “You’re staring.”

Natasha’s head whipped around to face him so fast that it almost felt like whiplash. Bob jumped a little, making the peanut shells rattle in the cup. “I’m not staring,” she protested, but she didn’t sound very convincing. Even to herself.

Bob looked skeptical, too. “How long have you been in love with her?”

Natasha opened her mouth to argue, to tell her backseater that he was wrong, that he was seeing things that just weren’t there. Then he raised a brow, pushing his glasses up his nose, and she remembered that someone trained him to pay attention. He was trained to pick up minor details most people would miss.

“Since we were at Top Gun together,” she admitted.

Bob hummed. “And nothing happened.”

Natasha shook her head, dispelling the memories of that time and how much it hurt to know they wouldn’t see each other every day anymore. “No,” she finally replied. “No, I didn’t think she was interested.”

She had spent those thirteen weeks dropping hint after hint that she was into Cecily, but the other pilot had seemed completely oblivious to Natasha’s advances. She’d gotten so desperate around week ten that she’d asked Beacon to bring it up to Cecily. It hadn’t helped. She still didn’t acknowledge Natasha’s incessant flirting.

“You should tell her,” Bob said, bringing Natasha out of her head and back to the bar.

Natasha shook her head. “She’d freak out.”

Across the room, Cecily Archer was freaking out.

A golden-haired pilot had sauntered up to her when she first arrived, looking cocky and confident, like he’d never experienced rejection a day in his life.

“Hey, darling,” he’d said, heavy Texan drawl obvious to her Louisianan ears. “Can I buy you a dri–”

“I’m gay,” Cecily blurted out before he could finish. She picked at her nails, doing her best not to bite them, as her eyes darted towards the bar. She locked eyes with Phoenix for a second before looking away, heat rushing to her cheeks.

He nodded. “Okay,” he said, shrugging. “Can I still buy you a drink?”

She lifted her eyes to the pilot, Seresin, according to his name badge, and narrowed them. “You can’t fuck me straight.”

His eyes widened, shock crossing his handsome face. “I wasn’t implying that I could.”

“Then what were you implying?”

He put his hands up, palms facing her. “Nothing. I just wanted to buy you a drink.” 

“I got it,” Beacon said, returning from the bar with two bottles, offering one to Cecily, who accepted with a quick thank you. “Phoenix has a new backseater.”

Cecily quirked a brow. “She does?” She looked over Beacon’s shoulder towards the bar where a bespectacled man slid onto a barstool next to Phoenix.

“What’s his deal?”

Seresin frowned. “Bob? I don’t think he has a deal.”

“He’s cute, though,” Beacon noted, sipping his beer without taking his eyes off Bob. “Very cute.”

Cecily rolled her eyes. “Stop drooling.”

“I will when you do.”

Cecily raised a brow. “I’m not drooling.”

“But you’re blushing,” Beacon argued.

“I’m not.”

“You are,” Seresin pointed out.

Cecily stifled a groan, her eyes slipping back to Phoenix, who was already looking back at her. She smiled and when Phoenix licked her lips before smiling back, a fresh wave of heat overtook her.

“Am I really that obvious?” She asked helplessly, looking from one man to the other.

“Yeah, you’ve been obsessed with her for years,” Beacon pointed out, shaking his head.

“I have not.”

“You have.”

Cecily opened her mouth to argue back, but Seresin’s voice carrying across the chatter and music in the room cut her off. “Hey, Phoenix,” he shouted. “Quit eye-fucking and come join us.”

She elbowed Seresin in the ribs as her heart thundered in her chest, but Cecily couldn’t find it in herself to be mad at him when Phoenix rose from her seat, and made her way over.

“Hey,” Phoenix greeted, dark eyes focused entirely on her.

Cecily was in deep.

[redstrewn]

Oooh I hadn't even thought abt the Kuras/Mhin connections for anthem of the lonely when I sent it in your MIND, you're so right!!! They too self isolate, more deliberately than Ais even, they're such loners (*rattling bars* Let me iiinnn!!)

Also hii again, I may be spamming you with asks a little so sorry about that but I come to you with another Starset song! Today I bring you Alchemy.

Consider, if you will, MC realizing Leander's a manipulative weirdo but not being able to stop falling for it anyway. All the references to magic and sorcery and curses, the references to drugs (once again, poisonous Leander realness) the desperation to break out of the cycle, just the ENTIRE second verse lmao, "I finally removed the mask you made so you can't hide the masquerade underneath" both a mask AND a masquerade reference?? Plus all the talk about being charmed and pulled back in.

The outro is kind of irrelevant but there's probably some way to connect it if you wanted, maybe something about Leander's showmanship being able to conceal whatever he wants to do with mc from the public, even making them disappear entirely idk (this bit is just random thought you can always just ignore the outro entirely it's just something the band does for most their songs)

Ok that's all for this one, it's just incredibly Leander coded.

OH YESSSSS THESE LYRICS HIT AS LEANDER SO GOOD MMMMM

I piloted the labyrinths of lies

Haunted by the hooks in me

And now I’m falling right back

Into the trap that you set for me

Back inside your spell

I'm back in your sorcery

Alchemy, alchemy

Tell me what you’ve done to me

Synthesized and transformed

Pathetic lifeform

Alchemy, alchemy

I don't want your drug in me

You get me high 'til I want more

But you hit like chloroform

I fell in right for the fantasy

Enchanted by the chemistry

The more that you took, the more I see

I’m locked inside a conjuring

I’m just a mannequin, stuck

In your plans to get struck

By the trance you put me in

Plant your curse under my skin

Ok this makes me have fun w the idea that leander "poisoning" MC so to speak so that he isn't "affected" by their curse is kind of like him fighting fire with fire. Putting a curse to combat MC's. Hehhee fun to think about.

I let the beast in you get the best of me

Tossed aside like old debris you don't need

I finally removed the mask you made

So you can't hide the masquerade underneath

Also I LOVE THE OUTRO

Ladies and Gentlemen!

You are about to be astounded!

You are about to be amazed!

What I am about to show you is not an illusion!

This is a skill I've learned from the ancient masters of the Far East!

Before your eyes, I will make a person disappear!

I love thinking abt his CRIMES and how he can just make people "DISAPPEAR." Also i like thinking abt how if someone ascends to godhood, would they even appear as a person anymore? Godhood is more of a concept. Like I think of Madoka disappearing from the world in her ascension. Just so much fun.

THANK YOU FOR SUGGESTING THIS SONG ITS COOL also thanks for ur patience I know this was in my ask box since like forever 🙏

[the8thsphynx]

Hiiii would you do Ginjo for the ask meme???

*vibrates*

favorite thing about them:

Fucking Look At Him.

Idk, I love how he’s the best of both worlds. We saw him as the alcoholic depressed dad friend and also as the unashamed bastard man. Get You a Man Who Can Do Both.

I’m also very in love with his Shikai/Secondary form with the skeleton armor. Jesus. *chef’s kiss*

he probably fs nasty lessgo

least favorite thing about them:

The wasted potential. Oh my fucking god. Fullbring Arc was so rushed and unfinished that we had to wait for Ryogo Narita (blessed be his name) to swoop in with CFYOW and give us SOME type of substance and motivation for Ginjo.

...Also livid over his bankai form. What the hell is this?? Why does he have fur pants?? Give him the skeleton garter and thigh highs back if you aren’t gonna act right, wtf.

favorite line:

The bar scene, where Ginjo is drunk as hell and trying to convince Giriko to let him keep going and then telling Riruka that she needs to go home because it’s late.

The english dub with Travis Willingham was superb in this scene, just goin’ full loser dad mode.

brOTP:

Oh, Grimmjow, 100%. The two of them would vibe hard, I think. Plus it’s not like anyone else wants to be friends with them lmao

There’s absolutely gotta be this deeper story between Ginjo and Giriko, hence why Giriko is so loyal to him throughout everything. We saw some teases of them being buds in the BBS birthday scenes (which I guess they don’t do anymore because this game is god awful) and I just think it’d be cool to see more.

OTP:

...Also Grimmjow. Both because I can’t see Ginjo being romantic or vulnerable with anyone to have a proper relationship and it’s basically the same with Grimmjow.

Aside from how they would get along great outside of that dynamic, I think they would click well having this Unnamed Thing together. FWB who also fight and drink heavily together.

...Also a lot of the OC x Canon ships I see with Ginjo are awesome. Special shoutout to Sef and Muwitch, y’all are the MVPs.

nOTP:

Geeeehhhhhhhkkkkk you really don’t see many canon x canon Ginjo ships since he isn’t that popular of a character, but my block-on-site is GinTsuki. I’ve said it before in previous questions for this ask meme, but I put hard-stop on Adoptive Parent/Adoptee or Older Mentor/Child Student ships; GinTsuki is especially in that for me since it’s canon that Ginjo took in and raised Tsukishima since he was a young child. So it’s very much not for me and it squicks me out badly.

random headcanon:

This man is a boomer and enjoys the cringy edgelord boomer memes. You know like these ones:

unpopular opinion:

The unpopular opinion is that I like him in the first place. Welcome to the post.

song i associate with them:

Nine Inch Nails - ‘The Hand That Feeds’

favorite picture of them:

I can’t pic a favorite, so here’s just a massive fucking chunk of my Ginjo folder below the cut:

The anime didn’t have to feed us like this, but they did.

GOD he’s so lame I wanna ride his face

NO BECAUSE-- *grabs you* look how fucking remorseful he is here. Look at this motherfucker.

*rattling the bars of my cell* MAN...

[honeygold-dew]

Extraordinary Attorney Woo Ep 14: Well.

So I’m back? There was an unauthorised login to my account so I’ve avoided posting here ever since, idk if anything’s resolved? But I decided to just post this since I haven’t shared my thoughts in a while. And wow do I have a lot jumbled in my head right now. Let me just type and see how this goes (once again, from someone on the spectrum).

Firstly, I do think the show is changing direction. What started off with myself as an autistic audience connecting with Youngwoo, because she expresses how she feels, is now turning into a Youngwoo who is being shut out. I feel like the show is not focusing on how she feels and experiences things anymore, especially in episodes 13-14, and is just displaying her as a spectator to things that happen to her.

The Youngwoo I got used to, who I adore from the beginning, is one to give Junho the reason why she wants to break up. She will think of him, she will not want to hurt him, and she will communicate her feelings to him as she has done in the past. I’m not mad at Junho, he’s visibly upset and startled and confused and anyone says anything when they’re experiencing those emotions. This is the most rattled we’ve ever seen Junho, actually. Even when he’s drunk and punching people in bars, he’s sure of himself. This time he looked completely lost and, just, sad. What annoyed me, though, was Youngwoo written to just walk away. He asks and she answers, she asks and he answers, that is how their relationship has always been. Of course this could have been done for the classic *kdrama affect* and they want you to suffer a little more before they get the characters together again, even if it’s out of character for Youngwoo, but I still think it’s flawed writing. Youngwoo can stay in character and they don’t have to get together. She can communicate how she felt and doesn’t have to accept when Junho insists she does make him happy. She can decide she needs to think, needs a break, and needs to discover how they feel when they are not together. That would have made me ache in all the right places, and that would still have Youngwoo express herself.

Arguments can be made the other way, of course. The show is about Youngwoo growing and navigating life, demanding her independence, and that growth isn’t always linear. Youngwoo not expressing herself as much as she used to in difficult emotional situations could be because unlike when she talks about her autism and the experiences she lived through for a while, she has not had time to process these ones. It’s her first relationship, and I myself have shut downs in these types of things, but Youngwoo isn’t known to have shut downs. Very possible for a real life scenario, but I still think it’s bad writing for a show, especially since it’s not shown to us in a way that says Youngwoo is feeling too much, confused and shutting these out. Instead we get… no insight at all into how she feels until secondary characters kind of force her to say it, which I don’t like. If Youngwoo is sad, show her sad. If she cries because of what Junho’s sister said, let her cry. The beginning of the show relied on the fact that she’s a relatable, loveable and heartfelt character. Park Eunbin is an outstanding actress. Autistic people cry. Autistic people worry about how they make others feel. Autistic people stress over making sense of their emotions. This would have been the perfect time to show all of this, in something so normal such as a relationship. This would have been the time both the allistic audience and the autistic audience relates to Youngwoo.

Instead, they make it the time the autistic audience kind of gets escorted to the back and it’s for the allistic audience to go “aww poor Youngwoo :(”. It’s episode 14, pitying time is long gone – it’s relating time. It’s love. Use better cinematography, use better scenes to display emotion, use better writing. This was great in the beginning, did they get slack because of the popularity of the show?

We also have no idea what Junho’s personality is like yet outside of being nice. Since they’ve gotten together we’ve just seen Junho and Youngwoo tackle things, mainly Junho helping Youngwoo out, but I would have loved a scene where Youngwoo asks Junho a lot of questions about himself (especially since she said she thinks about him as much as whales!! She’ll want to know everything!!) and have her make him smile by getting him this cute gift of something he told her he likes, or bringing up those things in their conversations sometimes, or anything really. Something along the lines of Youngwoo, without a question, really liking him more than just the drama showing Youngwoo going out of her comfort zone for him (which is quite significant in itself, but I think it would be nice to see Youngwoo in their relationship more than just her autistic traits). It would have been perfect with this thing of whether Youngwoo can make him happy, too, because we would’ve already seen her actively making him a smiley happy dude in all ways she can and the angst would just,,, take over your chest when the “am I someone who can make him happy?” line settles in, to us and Junho (if the writers were smart and had her communicate when he asked).

Another thing… suddenly Minwoo is a desirable, sweet guy for Sunshine Sooyeon? And they both awkwardly like each other? …God. This was obviously the “second leads get together” thing coupled with them being conventionally good looking enemy characters, but this is so dumb I wanted to see Sooyeon falling for sweet Chef Hairy and laugh at his dad jokes once!!! I wanted to see Geurami throw daggers at Minwoo while they were dating because he was mean to Youngwoo!!! Geurami aggressively getting a guy (however unworthy Minwoo is) and winning!! Minwoo stumbling after her however reluctantly!!! Sooyeon falling for the chef’s food and sincerity!!! What kind of writing is this, to randomly throw Sooyeon and Minwoo in as a couple after zero chemistry throughout the rest of the drama? The rest are so much more fun, oh my God.

Despite all of this, I still don’t really mind the show. It did get taken down from 5 stars to 3.8 in my head but I’m still enjoying it and waiting for next week’s episodes. I said in the beginning that I’m watching this show as I watch any other kdrama with neurotypical leads, because Youngwoo is more than an autistic character and this is a kdrama in nature, and so far it’s been true to that. This has all the great-in-the-beginning-but-sometimes-meh writing of every other kdrama I’ve seen. The amount of things that didn’t make sense (and annoyed me!) in Business Proposal and Weightlifting Fairy and Gangnam Beauty and What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim and pretty much all the lighthearted dramas – but they were still enjoyable dramas despite having their uhh moments, that’s kind of how I feel now.

(I’ve seen much more than those btw, pretty much all, but those are the lighthearted ones I can name at the top of my head.)

Overall, it’s a kdrama. 2521 had the worst writing of the year to me and it was still deemed one of the top dramas of the time (the number of complaints at the end would have got the show kicked off the air but it’s still here haha). If this were not a kdrama this writing would bother me much, much more, possibly be deal-breakers. But if I can handle the kdrama classics which rely on constant nonsensical tropes in the name of love or whatever weirdly traumatising angst for the viewer, I can deal with them failing with Youngwoo’s love and the other love interests for now. Maybe it’s a personal thing since I still want this show to do well. As an Asian it’s very huge that a show about a wonderful Asian autistic women is still so popular and loved, despite the writers making dumb decisions. Every k-pop idol out there is watching this and urging their fans to watch too, so many that I’ve lost count. Youngwoo’s and Geurami’s greeting song is viral in SK. Other famous k-actors are supporting this show every week. Extraordinary Attorney Woo is bigger than me. This show will affect me and how I am seen when I say I’m autistic, and at the very least I’m glad it’s making women with autism seen in a less bizarre, more adoring light. I have visibly noticed a small change since the drama aired. I like the change. I like the conversation. I want this to do well.

The tropes are as frustrating as dramas with neurotypical characters. To other Asians living in Asia I don’t think what I talked about would even be picked up as active downsides, just generic this is usually how these plots go. I have my complaints, which do disappoint me since I didn’t expect the change in direction, the change to what they show of Youngwoo, and they could’ve easily done other things that would’ve had better impact. But it’s not a deal-breaker for me either at this point in time. I do enjoy the show and want to watch it to completion, just to see my girl Youngwoo happy and thriving (with Geurami and Chef Hairy only, Youngwoo’s best squad since Day 1. The rest not invited to the party. Maybe Junho depending on what happens next, but no promises).

Fingers crossed the last 2 episodes next week go well!

[theepisceswriter]

Caught/Nearly caught having sex in public w/ AOT characters ( Eren, Reiner, Armin, )

A/N: I’m going through the final stage of grief after reading ch 139 and that stage is horniness so now I’m bestowing that upon all of you. Shoutout to my faithful stoned thot anon for requesting this !

Synopsis: I think the title is pretty self explanatory, but having sex in public with your partner and getting caught, or nearly getting caught, by someone.

TW: typos because once again I don’t proof read, fembodied!reader, public sex obviously, mature things,, breeding kink for Reiner , voyeurism (is that what it’s called? Idk!) for Armin, 18+, MINORS DNI

EREN JAEGER: At the club

Only Eren could convince you to even step foot into a public, let alone a CLUB, restroom. Only he could convince you to sit on the seat of a toilet that he shittily put a protect film over and watched as he knelt on the seemingly clean floor, head disappearing underneath your dress and long locks leaking through the bottom hem of your dress as he worked your underwear off. Don’t get it wrong, you were just as aroused and worked up as he was. The slow whine of his body against yours on the dance floor had you going crazy, mind hazy with lust and everyone else around you disappearing but you, him, and the sensual sensation of your arms roaming each other’s body.

If you were able to you would’ve let him take you right then and there in the middle of the floor in front of all those people. The thought of your knees scraping against the tiled floor with each thrust of Eren’s hips behind you as you clutched the bottom of your dress for support, everyone stopping and staring to watch the show you two were putting on, really made an abundance of wetness cumulate against the top of your thighs closest to your cunt. Because, of course, an ending with his cock stuffing you full was never inevitable whenever the two of you went on date nights.

“I have you trained so good that you don’t even wrest underwear anymore when you go out with me? God, you’re so desperate for me baby it’s almost pathetic.” He would speak from underneath your dress, blowing the warm breath of his mouth against your clit, enjoying the way your hips bucked up against him out of want and he hadn’t even given you his tongue yet. Finally, he indulges you; the warmth of his tongue mixed with the occasional shocks of coldness from the metallic stud in his tongue has you forgetting that you’re in a public area for a moment.

You use your teeth to try and hold in your moans, biting them back just incase anyone else is lingering outside the door of the bathroom or in one of the other stalls. But the loud slurping coming from Eren is enough to let anybody know what’s going on. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Too embarrassed at the thought of someone walking in on you like this; cheeks flushed, dress hiked up around your thighs, and your breasts barely restrained by your dress.

“If you keep biting back your moans I will stop completely and leave you in this bathroom to take care of yourself.” As if his words weren’t enough encouragement to finally get you moaning out his name, the feeling of his long index and middle finger slipping into you definitely made a surprised gasp leave your lips. His name falling from your lips soon after.

“Yeah, that’s it baby. Let them know who’s in this stall making you feel this good.”

Too good because even if you wanted to try you couldn’t hold your moans back anymore. That familiar coil in your stomach was getting tighter and tighter with each thrust of his fingers and it only encouraged Eren to move them faster, tongue continuing to lick long stripes up your clit. This bathroom stall was your heaven right now.

“I’m so close, I’m so close, I’m so-“

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

And just like that your orgasm was ruined. An innocent girl looking to release the drinks that have been building up in her uterus just had to be the one to walk in on you two. Not to mention the fact that Eren never locked the fucking door of the bathroom. He gets from under your dress immediately, cheeks and chin covered with your juices and his eyes filled with remorse. “I’m sorry, babe. I was too caught up in the moment to lock the door when we first got in here.”

That did nothing to help with your embarrassment.

REINER BRAUN: In a public pool

Did you guys know that having sex in a pool or hot tub increases your chances of getting pregnant? Because Reiner the breeder absolutely knew that and it’s exactly what his mind went to after only a couple minutes of being in the jacuzzi with you. It was supposed to be a relaxing late night date night for the two of you, but now he had other plans.

His mind was already swimming with thoughts of you bouncing on his cock up and down the moment he saw you in your swimsuit, so this random thought popping into his head only added fire to the fuel. He was hungry for you and the way he swooped you into his arms and placed you on his lap, bulge poking out against your ass, let you know exactly what he was thinking.

“Babe, there’s people in the apartments surrounding us!”

“They’re not paying any attention to us. Please, I need to feel you so bad right now. It’ll be quick plus it’s like 10 at night 🥺” There’s no resisting those hazel hues once he pulled out those puppy dog eyes and though you didn’t want to admit it, there was something thrilling about the thought of one of your neighbors glancing out of their windows to look at the night sky; only to see you getting pounded behind by Reiner in the jacuzzi at the public pool.

You didn’t even need to give him any verbal confirmation. You did your talking through your actions, reaching behind you and pulling the fabric of your bikini bottoms to the side. The tip of his cock already pressing at your entrance and entering you with ease with help from the water surrounding the two of you. Everything felt so warm and relaxing, even the bubbles from the hot tub surrounding your clit added a new sensation that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Reiner was on cloud nine his own Damn self, hips snapping up against yours at a pace that had him groaning with each thrust. The thought of his seed filling you in no time, let alone in a public place like this, really getting him going. Water splashing around the two of you from the force of this thrusts.

“Fuck, my load is going to be so big I can feel it already and you’re going to get every last drop of it deep inside of you. Going to make you so nice and plump in a couple of months. You want a Braun? I’ll give you however many you want.”

He really knew what to say, his words always coaxing you into your orgasm and a state of pleasure that you were positive was on the borderline of subspace. Sex with Reiner was an otherworldly experience on its own, but the effects that this hot tub had on the two of you and the possibility of someone watching from their window had the two of you approaching your orgasms faster than expected. Reiner was the first one to reach his. His load emptying inside of you like promised and your plush walls gripping at his twitching cock, milking him for all he had as your orgasm followed his only seconds later.

Per usual, the two of you remained in the position instead of pulling out immediately to reserve the cum inside of you like Reiner always liked to do. Just basking in that afterglow of sex and the relaxing waves of the hot tub.

It was the rattling of a flashlight against bars that brought the two of you out of your tranquil states and let the reminder that the two of you were still in public relish in. You moved off of him at the speed of light and adjusted your bikini so you were covered up once more. One glance over at Reiner and you saw him stuffing himself back into his swim trunks before diverting his attention over to the gate like you.

“The pool is closed. You two need to leave.”

“S-Sorry! We’ll be on our way!” You announced with red cheeks, hopping out of the water despite the wobbly feeling in your legs, Reiner following not too far behind.

Definitely not the last time the two of you were having jacuzzi sex.

ARMIN ARLET:  between the shelves at the library

When you first met your blonde haired blue eyed boyfriend you never expected him to be as freaky as he was. You expected him to be shy, quiet, and wanting you to take the lead 90% of the time but it was nothing like that. It was like he switched to a completely different Armin when he got in the mood and you don’t know which one he switch to today, but you hoped to see more of the Armin who suggested that the two of you fuck between bookshelves in the library.

Now here you were; skirt bunched up around your thighs, shirt & bra both pulled down so Armin could stuff one of your nipples into his mouth to muffle his moans against, and your thighs slapping against his bare ones as you rode him on the floor of the Greek Mythology and Norse section. His hips bucking and rolling up into yours in a way that he knew made you whimper and whine, a teasing gesture knowing that you couldn’t do any of those two things right now. But still you took your chance and let out a muffled whimper, making his eyes go wide and mouth popping off of your nipple in an instant. His hand is quick to go over your mouth with a roughness that keeps you from letting out a breath that was too loud.

He couldn’t even whisper in your ear to mess with you like he wanted to, nor could either of you move your hips too fast and cause a lot of noise because you could hear a penny drop in this library. It was a Friday night which meant hardly anyone was in it, but still a few people were scattered out along in the medium sized building. Not to mention the nosey librarian who always spies on you two when you were in her view. All you could do was throw your head back in pleasure, hips rolling down harder into his to heighten the pleasure you were already feeling.

It was the rough padding of Armin’s thumb on your clit that sent your eyes shooting open and once they did you were met with the sight that you would never expect; a peeping Tom looking at the two of you from gaps that they had created in the bookshelf surrounding you two purposefully. With a loud gasp you hurried off of Armin, pulling your shirt up and adjusting your skirt with a quickness that had him confused and scared.

“Did I do something you didn’t like? I-I’m sorry I should’ve asked before I touched your clit.” Poor baby thinks it’s something that he did, but you’re quick to tell him about the unwarranted peeping Tom that gave you the creeps that had since disappeared. He was livid, ready to go after the man and possibly swing a punch or two his way, but it was your reminding of him that the two of you were indeed in a public place and couldn’t do much about it that calmed him down. Plus, you wouldn’t admit it out loud but the thought of someone watching the two of you that whole time kind of turned you on even more.

[mymoonagedaydream]

ps, idk what the biker/college bucky story will include but i can throw out the idea of doing the modern day army veteran Bucky as a one shot or something? or whatever you don't include in the series lol

Recluse

Summary: You barely even expected to get a conversation out of Steve’s reclusive roommate, never mind anything more than that.

Pairing: Modern Veteran!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Language, smut references, references to military service

Author’s Note: You bet your butt I can do that for you anon. This one really got out of hand idk what happened man I couldn’t stop.

---

You’d been living with your friend Sharon for a couple of years now, and it was still going pretty well.

Your ground-floor apartment was very compact, but she was so considerate and easy to get on with, you barely even noticed the lack of space. She cooked for you occasionally, always paid rent on time, even did your laundry without being asked.

You just couldn’t help thinking that things were much more fun when you were both single.

Nothing much had changed in your life, you were still a lone wolf, but she’d been with Steve for almost six months now and you barely ever saw her anymore. 

Most nights you were just left to your own devices, clattering around the apartment like some sad old spinster.

It got to the point where, one Friday when you got home from work, you heard Steve and Sharon talking in the kitchen and got excited at the prospect of just having some company for the evening.

Sharon almost jumped on you as soon as you walked in. ‘Y/n! Are you free tonight?’

‘Yeah, totally, completely. You guys sticking around?’

‘You think he’d ever agree to that?.’

‘We were actually thinking of going out for some drinks. You in?’ You contemplated for a second, not wanting to come across too eager, then gave her an enthusiastic nod.

As she grinned back at you, you saw an idea dawn on her. ‘Steve, you should totally bring Bucky.’

Sharon frowned in resignation. You had no idea who they were talking about, their conversation going completely over your head.

Steve went home to change, leaving you and Sharon with a couple hours to get ready before heading out, so you thought you might as well try to probe a little deeper.

‘Who’s Bucky?’ You asked casually, sitting on her bed, watching her hold dress after dress up to herself in the mirror.  

‘Steve’s roommate.’

‘I didn’t know Steve had a roommate?’

‘I’d be more surprised if you did.’ She turned towards you. ‘In six months I’ve only met him twice.’

Your eyebrows darted up. She spent so much time at Steve’s place, that made no sense at all. 

‘What? Why?’

‘I’m pretty sure he makes a point to avoid people generally.’ She flopped herself down next to you on the bed, her tone lowering to one of deep sincerity. ‘He was in the army with Steve. Apparently he just really struggled to adapt when they got back, collapsed in on himself for a while. I think he’s a mechanic now but Steve is still the only person he really speaks to.’

‘Shit, that’s awful.’

She gave a grim nod and shrugged slightly, before standing back up and starting to get changed. 

You figured you should do the same, shuffling back to your room and finally taking off your work clothes, relieved at the thought of getting out of the apartment for the evening.

Just as you were about to leave, Sharon’s phone pinged.

‘Holy shit.’

‘What?’ You’d never seen her look so shocked. She put her index finger up at you while quickly typing something back. ‘You’re killing me here Sharon, what the hell is going on?’

‘Bucky’s coming.’

---

You managed to find a cramped table in the back of the bar. Sharon made you wait for Steve to arrive before ordering drinks, because for some reason he always insisted on buying the first round.

About ten minutes after you arrived, she glanced over to the door, grinned and waved her hand above her head. Following her gaze, you saw Steve pushing through the crowd, followed closely by a statuesque, tower of a man.

Studying him intently as he approached, you noticed how visibly uncomfortable he was, his jaw clenched tight and his hands folded into slowly whitening fists. You let your eyes dance over his huge shoulders and wide chest, feeling your stomach flip a little as he got closer.

‘Hey guys. Sharon, you remember Buck?’ Steve gave his friend a proud pat on the shoulder. Sharon nodded and grinned at Bucky, getting only a short, tight smile in return. ‘And this is y/n.’

Looking up to his face, his sharp blue eyes briefly met yours, prompting you to quickly avert your gaze. He looked tense enough without you gawping at him.

‘Nice to meet you.’ You adopted the friendliest tone possible, doing your best to put him at ease.

Steve went to grab some drinks and Sharon volunteered to help him, leaving you at the table with Bucky, bracing yourself for some intensely awkward small talk.

‘So, you’re a mechanic?’ He nodded. ‘Do you enjoy it?’ Another nod.

Alright, he obviously wasn’t in the mood for chatting. 

Christ. If you didn’t break free from this spinster shit soon, that’s exactly where you’d end up.

You didn’t want to force it if he wasn’t comfortable, you could happily sit in silence if that’s what he’d prefer.

You moved your eyes to scan the room, eventually landing on an older woman propping herself up at the bar, downing martinis, eyeing up young men and wobbling on her insanely high heels.

‘What do you do?’

It was barely a mumble, you hardly heard it over the bar’s background music. 

Your eyes returned to Bucky’s face, meeting his hesitant gaze.

‘I work in HR, so boring admin stuff mainly.’ He nodded slightly, his eyes flicking nervously between the table and your face. ‘But occasionally I get to use the shredder, which is pretty rad.’

He cracked a brief smile, the sight of it giving you a wave of goosebumps. ‘Sounds thrilling.’

‘I’ve never been here before, have you?’ You were determined to keep this conversation going, especially if there was a chance that you’d be able to make him smile again.

‘No. I haven’t been to any bars recently.’

‘You’ve got quite a bit of catching up to do then.’

Resting your head on your hand, you gave him a mischievous smirk, and felt a little smug as you noticed his shoulders relax slightly and the corners of his mouth curl upwards.

Hours passed, the bar called last orders, and the four of you traipsed out to begin walking home.

Then Steve and Sharon came back with the drinks, pretty effectively ruining the moment you’d been setting up.

Bucky went quiet again, keeping to himself for most of the evening, only speaking when spoken to. You felt his gaze fall on you occasionally, but each time you tried to meet his eyes they were quickly averted.

‘Oh hey, I forgot to ask.’ Steve gestured towards you. ‘Sharon said you went to visit your parents last weekend? How was that?’

‘I couldn’t go in the end, my car's fucked. It’s my own fault, everyday there was a new rattling sound but just ignored it.’

‘I’ll take a look at it.’ Your eyes snapped over to Bucky, a little shocked at how enthusiastically he’d come out with that. ‘If you want.’

You gave him a wide smile. ‘Wow, yeah, that’d be amazing. Thank you.’

---

A few days later, you were faced with another evening alone while Sharon was at Steve’s.

You unenthusiastically pulled a ready meal out of the fridge and poked some holes in the plastic, shoving it in the microwave and reaching for the half-empty bottle of wine on the counter.

‘Hi. Sorry. I was coming this way and Sharon said you’d be in, I thought I could take a look at your car?’

Just as you went to grab a glass out of the cupboard, you were stopped by a faint knock at the front door.

Shuffling over and yanking it open, you saw Bucky standing on your doorstep, looking just as uncomfortable as he did walking into that bar.

You were a little embarrassed that he’d caught in your pyjamas at 6:30, but that feeling was hugely outweighed with how pleased you were to see him.

‘Yeah, great.’ You gave him a warm smile. ‘I’ll just grab my keys.’

You found your gaze pretty quickly drawn to his arms, propping him up as he leant over the machinery like thick, hefty tree trunks. It was amazing how entranced you were by them, but considering how long it’d been since you’d even brushed past an attractive male, it made sense. God the things you’d let him do, if he-

You slipped on your shoes and led him over to the rustbucket, badly parked on the street outside. He flicked open the bonnet and immediately started tinkering.

You had less than no idea what was happening, but it looked very impressive.

‘Could you start it up?’ His deep voice pulled you out of your hazy fantasies.

‘Hmm? Oh, yeah.’

You tried your best to hide how flustered you were as you climbed into the driver's seat and turned the key. An intense rattling started, which he listened to for a second before signalling for you to turn it off and closing the bonnet.

‘You were right, it needs a lot of work. It’s definitely not safe to drive.’

‘Shit, stuck with the bus then.’ You sighed and climbed out, slamming the door behind you. ‘Thank you so much, you really didn’t have to do this. I appreciate it.’

‘Anytime.’ He smiled politely, taking a couple steps backwards before turning, dropping his head and starting to walk away.

‘You can come in for a drink if you want?’ You called after him, a little shocked at your boldness but not at all mad about it. He spun round. ‘It’s the least I can do.’

He took a sip and turned himself slightly to face you. ‘Look, if you bring your car to the shop where I work, I can probably keep the price down.’

His polite smile evolved into a wide grin as he nodded, following you inside.

You grabbed him a beer from the fridge and gestured for him to join you on the couch, smiling to yourself at how nervous he seemed as he balanced himself right on the edge of the seat.

‘Are you sure?’ He nodded. ‘That's so nice, you barely even know me.’

He looked a little sheepish at that, scurrying around for his words. ‘Sharon was pretty keen for me to come take a look, it’s probably best to keep Steve’s girlfriend on side, y’know.’

‘Oh I do know, Sharon can be terrifying.’ You both chuckled as Bucky edged back, settling himself into the couch a little more. ‘So you and Steve met in the army?’

‘We’ve been friends since we were kids, we signed up together.’

‘That’s nice.’ You tilted your head at him, deciding to take a slight gamble on your next question. ‘Do you miss it?’

He fixed his eyes on the ground and faintly shook his head, nervously starting to pick at the label on his bottle.

Shit, you really didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable, you were just curious.

A swift subject change remedied the situation somewhat, and after a while you sensed him beginning to relax again.

You finished off your glass of wine and checked your phone, your hand shooting up to your forehead in shock when you saw that it was close to midnight.

Over the next couple hours he slowly came out of his shell even further, eventually chatting and laughing with you like you were his good friend. The two of you unconsciously edged towards each other throughout the evening, ending up face to face with legs folded up on the couch, as close as you could get without touching.

‘Shit, I have work tomorrow.’

‘I’m really sorry.’ He put his bottle on the coffee table and stood up quickly. ‘I didn’t mean to keep you up.’

‘Oh you don’t have to apologise, it’s not your fault. I had a really nice evening.’

‘Me too.’ He smiled and buried his hands in his pockets, following you to the front door. ‘I’m working every day this week, you can come in whenever.’

‘Friday would be great? I have the day off.’

‘See you then.’

You watched him disappear down the street, feeling your limbs tingle with excitement at the prospect of seeing him again so soon.

---

You usually used your days off to sleep in till midday, but on Friday the tow truck showed up at 7am to take your car to the shop. You didn’t even get up that early on workdays. A pint of coffee was barely enough to keep you from passing out on the ride there.

He eventually noticed you stood there, staring, and your face immediately heated up as he approached.

You hurried inside the garage, scanning the room and eventually spotting Bucky underneath a hoisted truck, reaching up to work on it. His arms were glistening with oil and sweat and his shirt was riding up, exposing the faint trail of hair starting underneath his bellybutton.

Lord in heaven, what a view.

‘Sorry, didn’t want to interrupt.’

‘That’s alright.’ He pulled a dirty rag out of his pocket and roughly wiped his hands. ‘Did you bring the deathtrap?’

‘Yep, just outside.’

‘It’s gonna be a while. I finish at four, d’you wanna come back then?’

‘Sure.’

You walked up the driveway ten minutes early, which you thought was reasonable, and asked the very intimidating guy out front for Bucky. He just eyed you up and down and gestured vaguely to the side of the building.

On the way home you kept accidentally walking into roads, your mind completely occupied with Bucky’s midriff.

The whole day dragged. In your boredom you ended up leaving for the garage about an hour too early, meaning you had to loiter in an off-license, probably looking like you were shoplifting.

Turning the corner, you were met with a pretty impressive, cinematic wide shot of Bucky’s arse as he was leaning over the inside of your bonnet.

You should probably say something. Tell him you were there. Say hello.

Yeah, probably should.

Yeaaah.

You sighed and reluctantly shuffled towards the car.

‘How’s it-’ Bucky jumped and whacked his head against the propped-up bonnet. ‘Fuck! I’m so sorry, are you alright?’

He smiled at you, standing up and rubbing the back of his head. ‘Yeah, all good. Happens all the time.’

‘Oh, really? In that case you might want to consider a career change, could end up with some permanent damage.’ Chuckling, he reached up and slammed the bonnet with one powerful movement. ‘How’s it looking?’

‘Not bad. Want to take it for a spin?’

‘Sure.’ He held up the keys and you grabbed them out of his hand, excitedly hopping in the driver’s seat while he walked around and got in the passenger side. ‘You coming?’

‘Can’t just let you drive off without paying, you might never come back.’

You shot him a wide smile as you fired up the engine, amazed at how smooth it sounded, and pulled away from the garage.

‘I can’t believe it, it didn’t even run this good when I first got it.’ He smirked a little and nodded. ‘Thank you, Buck.’

You were already in the outskirts of the city, so you decided to drive out into the sticks a little, eventually pulling up into a dusty layby on a narrow side road.

Glancing to your side, you saw that Bucky was struggling not to look very pleased with himself.

As he began stroking his thumb along your knuckles, he cautiously pulled his gaze up to your face, looking at you like you’d just told him he’d won the lottery.

His hands were resting on his thighs and, almost unconsciously, you reached out to grab the one closest to you and squeeze it lightly.

He stared down at it for a few seconds, eventually turning his hand over and squeezing back.

You could barely even remember what happened next. You remember the back of your neck tingling, your stomach tightening almost to the point of becoming painful, the feeling of Bucky’s rough, calloused hand against your cheek and the way your heart jumped when he leaned towards you and pressed his mouth against yours.

Eventually pulling away, he buried his face in your neck, planting short kisses along your jawline between laboured breaths. You pushed his head back against the seat and pressed your forehead to his, closing your eyes and letting your hands dance down his chest.

It was slow and tender at first, but it quickly picked up, becoming feverish and passionate.

He threw his arms around your waist and roughly pulled you over onto his lap, holding you so tight to his chest that you couldn’t tell whose heart you could feel thumping like a steam engine.

‘It’s been a while since I’ve done that.’ He sighed, bringing a hand up to bury itself in your hair.

‘Me too.’ Your mouth curled into a smile. ‘It’s been even longer for other stuff.’

Melting into each other in a cacophony of limbs and flesh and tearing clothes, both of you eventually found the release you so desperately needed. 

There was a loaded silence, you opened your eyes to see Bucky staring at you intently, wearing an expression that made your toes curl.

You dived clumsily into the backseat and pulled him after you, giggling as you both adjusted yourselves, trying to get even slightly comfortable in such a tight space.

And both of you did all you could to savour the feeling of finally having someone to hold close.

---

[gallickingun]

hiya! could i get ummm a drunk!izuku confession type thing please? idk if you write for him but yea!

a/n: all right, i’ll try my hand at midoriya. don’t come for me if it’s trash! i told you guys i love kacchan!! can’t help but make him make an appearance in every fic i write lol  

You try to ignore the cheering and shouting in the background, kicking Bakugou in the knee with the heel of your foot to shut him up. You scowl at the others, tugging Deku away from the table, throwing his arm around your shoulders to steady him. You briefly throw some comments about seeing the others tomorrow towards Kirishima and Denki, but your eyes are tugged back towards the fiery blonde standing in your path.

“I’ll kill you later,” you narrow your eyes, the sound of explosions and the scent of burnt sugar lingering in the air as Bakugou tosses a glare your way.

“D-Don’t kill K-Kacchan!” Deku whines, a little tear escaping the corner of his right eyelid. He drops his head to your shoulder, sniffling, “I know he’s an ass, b-but you shouldn’t kill him!”

“Fine,” you grumble, tucking Izuku’s head further into your chest so he can’t hear the screams from Bakugou just behind you, protesting Midoriya’s words.

You manage to drive Izuku back to his apartment without him passing out or throwing up in the floorboard of your car. Right now you’re thankful that you chose to sober up towards the end of the night, opting for water instead of vodka so you could drive Deku back home if necessary.

After all, anything for your best friend. 

You’ve known Deku and Kacchan since your childhood - park days filled with sand pits and playground fights. You were there for Deku when he found out he was quirkless, that he would never be as powerful as All Might. You were the one to patch him up from Kacchan’s blasts in middle school, covering burn marks with salve and cuts with bandages. 

And slowly, but surely, your heart began to fall.

You fell headfirst the night you took him to the junior high dance. Sure, Kacchan ridiculed the both of you for even going, but you knew the Deku needed something to take his mind off of the awful, terrible things happening in the world. He needed to feel something other than powerlessness. With your hands on his shoulders and his arms around your waist, he was grounded for the first time in a long time. 

The look in his eyes is what cemented you to him, the cage around your heart tightening, a lock that only he held the key to.

“H-Hold on,” Deku coughs as you open the front door, assisting his stumbling feet over the threshold. You prop him up against the bar, kicking the door shut with your foot, “Izu’, honey, you need to rest. Listen, I-”

“Wait, w-wait, wait, it can’t be over!” Deku coughs into his elbow, eyes squinting as he tries to focus on what he wants to say next. You lock the door behind you, turning to press your palms to his cheeks to try and sober him up, “Nothing is over, silly. It’s just time to go to bed.”

“No,” he’s pouting now, “I’ve got something I-I need to do.”

You laugh, brushing his hair behind his ears, pushing his bangs away from his sticky face. He’s got leftover tequila and salt on the corners of his lips; you lick your finger and swipe away to rid his skin of it.

You really wish you had the guts to surge forward and kiss it off of him.

The cage around your heart rattles at your closeness, begging to bruise your skin with the confession of your feelings, begging for him to give you the key and set you free. He’s drunk; he’d never remember if you spilled your guts to him right now. Izuku has the worst memory when he gets plastered. 

Deku’s eyes water again, “Kacchan told me that if I g-got drunk, I-I could finally tell the truth.”

“Drunk words, sober thoughts,” you quote, rubbing at his face with the corner of your sleeve, “Can’t believe Kacchan had such insight. What do you need to tell the truth about?”

Izuku is mumbling now, playing with his hands like he does when he starts murmuring incoherently. It’s even worse now that he’s nursing the alcohol that’s still coursing through his veins. You brush your thumb against his cheekbone to drag his attention back to you, “Izu’, what’s going on?”

His big, doe eyes look across at you, lower lip trembling, “Kacchan said that if I wanted to tell the girl I like h-how I real-really, all I needed ta’ do was get drunk a-and it would be easy to tell her but it’s not easy! If anything it just feels m-more difficult because I can’t th-think straight and my heart is hammering a-”

“Kacchan is a dick,” you sigh, bringing him to you for a hug. Your arms wind around him like they always do, like you’ve been doing for the majority of your natural born life. “He knows that you stumble over your words. Being drunk wouldn’t help that.”

Deku wipes at his eyes as you separate from him, “I-I guess. I think he was trying to help me with my confidence.”

“Literally any girl would be lucky to have you, Deku,” you’re smiling but it feels disingenuous. You know it doesn’t reach your eyes, but you don’t have the capacity to care. “You’re amazing, wonderful - hell, you’re smart and you’re a wonderful fighter. You’ve got a whole PR team taking care of the incessant fangirls running around your coattails.”

“But you don’t like me, do you?”

Your brows furrow and you’re quick to deter his comment, “Of course I like you! How could you say that? We’ve been best friends since diapers!”

“I don’t want to be best friends anymore,” he sniffles, his lips quirking as he tries to make the next words come out of his mouth. “I can’t be best friends a-anymore.”

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask, racking your brain for something you could’ve said or done in the past couple of months to set him off, but you come up blank. You start to sweat, your hands flying around when you speak, “Deku, y-you could’ve told me, we could talk abo-”

“No,” he reaches up to circle his hand around your wrist, tugging you back down to earth. He’s laughing, which is much unlike him, but it makes you pause, “This is why Kacchan told me to get drunk. B-Because I can’t think straight around you and I always screw it up.”

You’re trying to connect the dots, but he’s too close and you’re too flustered. He’s such a big part of your life, to lose him would be like losing a part of yourself.

“I can’t be just your best friend anymore,” he repeats the statement that makes your heart shatter, “it’s too much.”

You go to speak but he places his palm over your mouth, little sparks of electricity from his quirk used to hold you down, “It’s too much because every time I see you, I just want to kiss you. A-And I get angry when I see you talking to Kacchan, which I thought was just normal at first be-because I’m always angry with Kacchan. B-But I realized that it was jealousy.”

Jealousy? Kissing?

“He told me that if I got drunk, I’d be able to tell you how I-I feel,” Izuku licks his lips, his throat bobbing. “But earlier, I-I just froze.”

His irises harden into little gemstones, green flickering towards you with certainty - an emotion Deku doesn’t often feel. He sighs, tensing his shoulders as he says the next thing that pieces your heart back together, “I love you. I have for a long time. And I-I can’t hold it in anymore.”

The sparks around his hands die out, his fingertips falling away from your face as he grazes your jaw. He’s sweating now, toes curling in his socks at your reaction.

“Silly Deku,” you murmur, eyes hot with the threat of tears. You thread your fingers into his hair but this time it means something much more than it’s ever meant before, “I wish you’d told me sooner.”

Somehow the two of you meet in the middle, neither of you needing to communicate what you want next. His lips slot against yours, hands tugging you by the ribs. Your heart bursts from the cage, his words slipping down your throat to set you free.

-

send me a character + trope/au/scenario/prompt and i’ll write a blurb!

taglist below the cut!

@kamehamethot @simplybakugou @lady-bakuhoe @todorki-shoto @redhawtriot @burnedbyshoto @cookies-n-chaos @katsukisprincess @rat-suki @cutesuki–bakugou @k-atsukidayo @bnhatrashh @succulent-momma @voiceofreader @multifandom-fanfic @that-one-enthusiast  @bitchtrynafck @cutest-celestial-princess @blue-peach14 @pastel-prynce @bokunokangae @shoutodoki @bakuoushoe @tenyaingenium @hoe-biscus @kingtamakimurder @myherofuckademia @myherowritings @lxvely-mha @myherorambles @bratwritings @samanthaa-leanne @orokayagi @queensynderella @tumblingintothefeelstrain @heroes-landing @suckersuki @yuueimagines @bnha-violetnote @your-local-bnha-writer @vnmwrites @plusultrawritings @aizawamirite @lovekatsukibakugo @ua-imagines @bnhasidebin @bnhawritten @ramen-rambles @sunbeamwrites

[sparring-hyena]

could u write something of becca x mc where mc was in the car accident instead of becca and now she’s the one having amnesia. However, she doesn’t only forgets that she loves becca but.. SHE THINKS SHE’s STILL W/KAITLYN.. but kaitlyn is now with annisa.. and mc decides to give becca a chance but find it hard to get over her feelings for kaitlyn and becca is furious and jealous but still can’t blame mc..

(ps. this idea is from a fanfic request from another account but the writer stopped where mc wakes up from anaesthesia calling kaitlyn “my love”.. there where supposed to be a part 2 but he/she gave up on it I guess 🤷🏻‍♀️)

*sliding to u some 🥦🥕 to make it happen 😈*

first, thanks for the 🥦and 🥕, very much appreciated. second, sorry that it took me a while to get to this—creativity is a funny thing like that. anyhow, i’m combining these two prompts, so idk if this is exactly what either of you were expecting/asking for, but it’s what came out. so, yeah... enjoy :)

-

-

it’s fine. she’s fine. there had been a car crash--a hit and run. Alex, Abbie, and Tyler were all in the car. Abbie is fine--a few scratches and a little rattled. Tyler’s injuries had been more severe, but his doctor had assured them all that he’d be fine. but Alex was unconscious for a while.

“stable, but not awake,” the doctor had said.

it’s fine. she’s fine. except it’s not fine. except she’s not fine. and she has to keep telling herself that it’s fine and that she’s fine. because Alex had been unconscious. because Alex sustained a serious head injury. because Alex had woken up and not remembered.

“what are you doing here?” Alex had said when she woke up, staring straight at Becca. her gaze had been blank.

but still, Becca had placed her hand on Alex’s and tried to squeeze. her heart cracked when Alex pulled away. “you were in a car accident,” she explained. “Abbie and Tyler were too, but they’re okay.”

and then there had been more questions, and more doctors and nurses coming in and out of the hospital room. and then Alex had asked her question again.

“why are you here?”

and Becca’s heart had cracked again. she’d opened her mouth to respond but then their friends had knocked and opened the door, and Alex’s eyes lit up when she saw Kaitlyn step into the room.

so it’s not fine. she’s not fine. in fact, she’s angry. angry at whoever was driving the other car. angry that Alex doesn’t remember. angry that Kaitlyn has Alex’s love and doesn’t even want it. except she’s not angry. not really anyway. she’s hurt. hurt because Alex doesn’t remember. and hurt because they had to break up.

and now Becca wonders if they even did break up. technically they did because they had been dating and they aren’t anymore. but Alex doesn’t remember the dating part. so to her, there was no break up. she’d just adjusted to a life that didn’t really feel like her life. a life without Becca in it.

they do still see each other. nothing like they used to. gone are the Uskea dates and late-night drives. now it’s just stale silence between them whenever they’re alone. so they only see each other when they’re around their friends. like right now at Tyler and Abbie’s dinner party.

they aren’t sitting beside each other at the table. but Becca can see the way Alex is looking at Kaitlyn. like she’s in love and maybe a little bit confused. and then Alex looks over to Annisa who’s beside Kaitlyn. Annisa who leans in to whisper something in Kaitlyn’s ear. which is fine. but Alex looks annoyed. angry maybe. jealous probably.

and that’s when Becca decides she can’t do this anymore. she pushes up from her seat. offers a polite smile to everyone at the table when they look over at her.

“sorry, i uh... i have to go,” she says. she grabs her purse and slips her coat on before darting out of the apartment. the elevator ride down is too long. too stuffy. why did she take the elevator again? there were stairs she could have taken. she could already be outside and on the ground if she’d taken the stairs.

when Becca gets outside, she stops and breathes. she breathes in the crisp evening air thar smells a lot like rain. the moon’s covered with clouds. there’s a storm brewing.

“you left,” a voice—it’s Alex’s voice—says.

Becca spins around. she doesn’t even know what she’s feeling right now—some cocktail mix of confusion, hurt, anger, and love. “didn’t really feel like being up there anymore.”

“why?” and Alex even has the audacity to quirk her head to the side. like she’s confused. like she doesn’t know why Becca’s so distraught.

“why the fuck do you think?” and that definitely comes out harsher than she intends.

“you don’t need to get angry.” Alex sounds defensive, but fuck it. Becca’s come this far. she may as well ruin whatever chance she has left. a rumble of thunder sounds in the distance. both women are unaware of it though.

“you know what? fuck you for saying that. maybe i don’t need to be angry but i am. i’m angry because we were just getting good. i’m angry because someone took our life together away. i’m angry because you don’t remember anything.”

except Becca’s not angry. not even a little bit. she wishes she was. she’s just sort of numb. like there’s so much going on inside her head that her brain’s just decided to shut down because it’s all too much.

“fuck you too,” Alex snaps back. “it’s not like i asked for this. i didn’t want to get in a car crash. i didn’t want to forget!”

the thunder rumbles again. closer this time. and a few drops of rain begin to fall. but neither Alex nor Becca notice. they continue to shout and throw ugly words at each other, getting closer and closer until they’re not even a foot apart.

and when their breaths are coming out quick and hard. when they look at each other, the air between them sizzling, they pull each other in for a kiss and then the sky splits open and the rain falls.

it’s a heated kiss. all tongue and teeth, and biting and moaning. they curve into each other. Alex runs her hands along Becca’s back, scratches and pulls her closer. and Becca tangles her hands in Alex’s hair and tugs.

and then— and then— Becca pushes Alex away. she wipes her mouth and doesn’t dare look Alex in the eyes. “fuck you,” she says before running back to her car.

-

it’s two weeks before they see each other again. it’s Chris’ birthday and he’s invited everyone out to a club in the city. Becca doesn’t dare talk to Alex, she even tries to avoid any and all eye contact with her. if the others notice, they don’t say a thing.

so they dance and drink and dance somemore. and by midnight, the club is packed. Becca dances and tries to forget but then she turns around and Alex is there. their eyes lock together and it feels a lot like that other night two weeks ago—the night they kissed in the rain.

they dance together, the space between them almost non-existent. their mouths so close, open just a little, and their breaths come out quick and hot.

and then Alex grabs Becca’s hand and pulls her off the dance floor and into the bathroom. it’s empty—thank god—and she pulls her into one of the stalls at the very far end. then Alex spins them around, presses Becca up against the closed door, and pulls her in for another kiss.

a yelp of surprise slips through Becca’s lips, but she returns the kiss. matches Alex’s enthusiasm with fevour and zeal. then Alex’s hands drop down to the back of Becca’s thighs where she picks her up and presses her harder against the door.

a group of girls stumble into the bathroom then. and Becca’s sort of glad. she doesn’t want their second first time to be like this. Alex deserves better than a quick bathroom fuck. the girls are so drunk that they don’t notice Becca and Alex slip out of the same stall.

they don’t talk for the rest of the night.

-

Becca goes to a bar a few weeks later. figures she’s earned it and that she really fucking needs it. it’s a quiet place—some little hole in the wall place that very few know exist. the lights are dim, the place reeks of beer, and the ceiling is low.

she orders a rum and Coke. drinks alone for a while. then Alex stumbles in and claims a booth in the back. and suddenly she’s back in that night all those years ago—the one where she’d found Alex alone at a bar and they hooked up at the sorority.

she thinks, fuck it. should at least say hello.

“didn’t think i’d see you tonight,” Becca says as she slides into the booth across from Alex.

“ditto,” Alex says.

“alone?”

“yeah. you?”

Becca hums her assent. “any reason” she asks a moment later.

“just wanted to think.”

“about?”

Alex doesn’t answer right away. instead she looks across the table at Becca, head tilted a little to the side, and the corner of her mouth quirking up. “you know what.”

“oh.” Becca supposes that should have been obvious. “how’s that going for you?”

Alex shrugs. “everything’s just... messy, i guess. in my head i mean. like, everything is there, but i just can’t see it. like a heavy fog.”

it’s silent for a moment after that. sort of like a calm has fallen over them. it’s Alex who breaks the silence with some question that isn’t really important, but actually kinda is. it’s important because it’s progress. it means they’re easing back into a place where they’re maybe becoming friends.

and the night carries on. they both have a few more drinks, but they’re by no means drunk. tipsy, maybe. the conversation flows easy between them—a natural back and forth where they laugh and listen and get to know each other all over again.

then the bartender announces that they’re closing for the night. then Becca and Alex wait outside together for a cab. then they climb into the back of the cab together. and then, somehow, they kiss again. but it’s nothing like their two previous kisses. those kisses had been hard and heavy. loaded with hurt and frustration. this one is softer, slower, easy to get lost in. so when the cab stops at Becca’s address, inviting Alex upstairs is so easy and natural.

-

for the first time in months, Becca doesn’t wake up alone. Alex is beside her, face smushed into the pillow, and soft puffs of air coming from her mouth.

for the first time in months, Becca doesn’t hate the streaks of sun that peak into her room, and wake her well before six. she could never hate something that lets her see Alex this calm.

and for the first time in months, Becca thinks i love you, and her heart doesn’t break.

[karmasuna]

》12.50 am

pairing; dabi x reader

genre; fluff

wordcount; 688

synopsis; “y/n and i are no longer friends.” “that’s a terrible way to announce that we’re dating.”

a/n; yes this is kind of ooc and yes i realize the quality of my writing is 📉😔 idk what i’m doing honestly

 “y/l/n, toga, dabi. you’re in charge of lookout this time.” 

the girl squeals in delight as shigaraki continues to rattle off the groups for the mission, clinging to your arm and going on about how much fun you would have spending time together. 

 “any questions.” red eyes flick around the room behind greasy locks, scanning the dimly lit room. 

 “i don’t want to be with that crazy bitch.” everyone’s attention turns to dabi, who’s glaring in your direction with a distasteful look. 

 “and by crazy bitch which one do you mean, exactly?” your leader retorts back, voice flat and completely unamused. spinner fights back a snicker, but quickly catches himself when both you and the scarred villain send him an icy glare, awkwardly trying to avoid any more eye contact with either of you. 

 toga frowns, latching onto you even tighter than before. “no one cares about your opinion, crispy man. y/n and i belong together forever, right?” cautiously you take a peek at said crispy man, trying to gauge his reaction before nodding, giving her a gentle pat on the head. “best friends,” you agree. 

 your heart’s racing from the very blatant affection you’re getting from the girl, trying not to worry about the consequences of being so touchy with someone else that wasn’t your boyfriend. 

 “you see, i’m not friends with y/n anymore,” he begins, folding his arms and leaning against a bar stool. 

 “good, then we can just be on lookout without you! ” toga doesn’t miss a single beat, grinning happily at the news. you swear you can feel the room heating up a few degrees, and a quick glance at him tells you that you should probably try to calm him down before the situation escalates even further. 

 “that’s a terrible way to say we’re dating.” you sigh, gently prying toga’s hand off you and smiling apologetically at her when she lets out a betrayed gasp. you move to stand next to dabi, who doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you smugly and press his lips to your temple, a silent thanks for being by his side. 

 “gross,” shigaraki scoffs quietly, but his comment is quickly overshadowed as twice bursts into tears, congratulating you through sobs. behind him spinner’s rendered speechless, still not having fully comprehended the fact that you were taken, by dabi of all people no less. 

 “so you don’t love me anymore?” toga’s face is eerily blank, devoid of emotion as she stares at you, waiting for an answer. 

 “of course not, himiko, you’ll always have a special place in my heart.” lowering your voice to a stage whisper for dramatic effect and giving her a reassuring smile, “i love you even more than dabi, but don’t let him know, yeah?”  

 “okay!” and with that you manage to avoid any hurt feelings. that is, if you ignore dabi’s tightening hold on your waist, worried that one day you’d leave him for someone who could give you a better life than the one you currently led, committing crimes and constantly having to escape the law. 

 “if you guys are done, let’s get going.” shigaraki’s already standing by the door, looking less than pleased that he’s being kept waiting. 

 “make toga do something else,” dabi states bluntly, hands sliding down to lace his fingers through yours as you head toward the door. “i don’t care about your petty beef or whatever. get your shit sorted out by the time we’re done with this mission, got it?”

 “you’re an asshole,” dabi retorts back. 

 “and this asshole is your boss, so shut it.” 

 you squeeze his hand, a reassuring gesture that prompted him to just drop the topic. “we both know you don’t hate her, so you might as well try and get on better terms,” he’s obviously not convinced so you continue, “ at least do it for me, alright? she’s important to me.”

 he’s at least considering the idea, that you’re thankful for. he’s still disappointed he can’t spend the night with only you, but he’ll make an exception this time.

 “fine, but only because you’re so pretty, doll.”

[twiceblackvelvet]

Username: xNotYourJoyx

A/N; hi. i have no clue where this idea came from. i don’t know why my brain always tells me to start more red velvet series’ randomly. but here is the latest spawn from it. this will have more parts to it because i’m interested in expanding on the dynamics of this trio plus i signed up for things that have since blown up my emails for this because i’m dedicated like that. anyway! enjoy. or don’t. idk anymore. 

It was only a suggestion.  A quick mention, really. “There’s this site, Seungwan,” is how it started. Except for that brief conversation spiraled rapidly into a whirlwind of curiosity and excitement. Perhaps, discussing the lack of sex life and the frustration that comes with that whilst you’re supposed to be busy working on the latest financial development wasn’t the smartest move, and yet, the conversation ended in a better resolution than she imagined when Joohyun had managed to pry the information out of her about why she’s been so on edge lately. 

On edge being both literal and metaphorical. Getting to the high is easy, however, toppling over into the rush of being able to feel the full experience of pleasure has been evading her for the last few weeks now. Nothing seems to do the trick and though you may think it’d be fun to simply keep trying, it’s starting to become an issue with the more extreme methods she attempts. So, it desperately needs to be fixed, just not in front of all of her colleagues who are idly typing away the dull workday. 

The rest of the day drags along. Nothing particularly interesting happens which Seungwan is grateful for, she could do without the extra stress. Though, she’s sure the new sponsorship to promote a dead-end product that everyone had warned their boss about will cause a headache in the future, she ignores the nagging feeling in the back of her mind. Joohyun was kind enough to buy dinner for the both of them which her stomach is currently grateful for as she’s certain her fridge at home is empty. But, watching her friend and colleague suckle on the ice cream bar she purchased for herself should not have resulted in her needing to press her legs together on instinct. 

Joohyun didn’t notice, or if she did, she didn’t say anything and continued to lap her tongue across the cold strawberry flavored ice cream. Probably for the best. Nothing good ever comes from getting too involved with people you have to work alongside every day, even if that person does look like Aphrodite herself. The awkward looks between you both, everyone else knowing that the two of you have slept together but are now deciding on which color scheme to use for an advertisement, it just isn’t something that Seungwan wants to deal with. So, she and Joohyun will have to remain platonic. Unfortunately.

It’s late by the time she gets home. The hallway lights leading up to the apartment door flicker every few seconds and the apartment across the hall has the television turned up loud enough that Seungwan is sure they’re trying to let those in hell hear the latest episode of whichever show they’re currently watching. The keys in her hand rattle as she unlocks the stiff door that barely wants to open anymore. The loudness doesn’t disappear once she closes it behind her but it’s home and somewhere she can erase the feeling of being stuck, in more ways than one. 

The latest routine of ordering in unhealthy food that is slowly destroying her insides, a cold shower to wash away some of the exhaustion, and then listening to the same songs for about an hour feels almost robotic but it’s what she’s grown used to now. Once the darkness begins to creep in across the apartment, cold air making the hairs on her arm stand to attention and the neighbors suddenly growing quiet, it’s the small bed in the corner of the room that calls out and the only thing echoing inside her head. 

Well, it would be, had she not suddenly recalled Joohyun’s description of a site where many people frolic and entertain those who perhaps need a little extra help with their more sinful needs. She moves on auto-pilot toward the jacket hanging on the coat rack and reaches into the left side pocket for the small piece of paper where only the web address is scrawled upon it in Joohyun’s perfect handwriting. The laptop she bought years before and barely runs anymore rests on the dining table she never sits at, closed, and with a line of dust taking up home upon it. Grabbing it, she plops herself down onto the bed after removing her dressing gown and the towel around her hair which has long since dried and throwing it into a corner of the room to be cleaned up tomorrow. 

Her fingers trace the keyboard idly, never pressing in a single key, simply going back and forth over the letters whilst her brain tries to decipher if this is something she wants to try out. 

“Fuck it.” She thinks. Soon enough, the site is loading, slowly, and asking for her to confirm she is of legal age to enter it. 

The screen finally loads and brings up a bunch of profiles under the “popular” banner. To say that the sight of all the various people before her is overwhelming would be an understatement. A sidebar reveals that she can choose a category as well as filter out specific things that are not of her interest. Some of the categories are the standard you would expect, for example, she immediately filters to only see profiles of women. However, others are a little more out there and specific toward what Seungwan assumes are people’s fetishes. A lot of them are things that she would never consider a person could find interesting sexually, and yet, the option is right before her. She ignores the curious voice inside of her head telling her to click on some of them. 

A screen full of women now presents itself in front of her. All of them are beautiful and there’s a whole variety to choose from. The profile pictures range from selfies where they’re simply smiling to some of them being without clothing whatsoever. She scrolls for quite some time simply admiring all of the choices before her until one, in particular, captures her attention. 

Wide dark eyes with hair of the same shade of brown, plump lips that are sporting a small smirk that’s both enticing and teasing. Part of the girl’s neck is on display for Seungwan to imagine herself kissing and biting softly. Without hesitation, she hovers over the username and clicks onto the profile. 

“xNotYourJoyx” she repeats mentally a few times. 

The next page reveals a sign-up box that doesn’t allow Seungwan to venture any further. She’s quick to type in her email address, a username not as clever as she would like and the same password she uses for everything else. The next step is to add her bank details in order to be able to subscribe to various pages. She hesitates at this portion realizing that it’s probably very easy for people to fall too far down this rabbit hole. Thus she promises herself not to subscribe to anything until she’s 100% sure. 

After completing her profile, she’s brought back to the girl she assumes is named Joy or at least uses that name here. Her subscription rate is the first thing to appear. Her price is low Seungwan thinks, around $10 when she was expecting something far higher based on the type of content Joohyun had told her the people on the site create. The next part is an Amazon wishlist with various items in it ranging from hair extensions, expensive perfume, and medical equipment? She must be a nurse, Seungwan thinks. 

Further down the page reveals a VIP service which is more expensive than the standard subscription but allows for you to request specific pictures or videos. There are rules that come along with it which Seungwan reads multiple times over. 

Don’t ask me to say or tell you anything personal about me, we are not friends. You don’t know me like that. 

No, you can’t have my Instagram or any other social media so don’t ask. 

Don’t be a dick. 

My amazon wishlist is not for me. I am not a doctor. But I’m down to dress as one for you if you’re into that. 

“Well, that clears that up I guess.” She thinks. 

For the next ten minutes, Seungwan simply scrolls through the free content on offer from Joy. A few shots of her without clothes but covering her body up with her hands or a sheet, all of which look professionally done which is surprising.  She’s captivated and drawn in by this girl a lot quicker than she thought she would be, she can see why Joohyun would recommend such a thing to her now. The possibilities are endless and there are no strings attached. It’s an ideal situation for both parties. 

Despite making the promise to herself, she’s quick to subscribe to Joy’s feed but ignores the large “upgrade to VIP” logo that’s glistening in gold below the payment button. It would seem strange or suspicious surely to her if someone new to her profile was suddenly paying for the premium option Seungwan tries to logic with herself. 

A few seconds pass as the page reloads itself before finally Joy’s profile is unlocked for Seungwan’s eyes to devour. The same type of photos as previously, however, without anything covering herself up. The same natural reaction to jam her thighs together that she felt earlier with Joohyun ends up happening again except this time she positions her hand under the waistband of her bed shorts. 

The further she explores everything Joy has posted the more the need to be touched becomes overwhelming Before she knows it her fingers are gently caressing her soft skin slowly yet with desperation. Many of the images have comments from other people praising the effortless beauty that Joy manages to convey with ease. Seungwan thinks that Joy must be someone with great confidence to display herself so openly like this. She wishes she too were able to picture herself in the way that Joy likely does. 

Her body aches for some release but once more she’s not able to reach the peak as the page of images suddenly comes to an end. Once more, the gold button for premium appears and tells Seungwan she’s reached the limit of what she can see. A blurring effect does a good job of hiding what follows next, however,  what it doesn’t do is stop her from being enticed further when she spots that Joy has also uploaded videos of herself, they are simply hidden from those on the basic subscription as her. 

Almost sub-consciously she finds herself going against every warning sign inside of her mind telling her that paying to watch Joy rather than just look at her is a bad decision, one she will definitely come to regret or become too attached to doing, and yet, it’s too late once she’s confirmed the upgrade and clicked onto the first video that appears. 

White background, likely a wall in her home, Seungwan thinks, until finally the girl steps into the frame with yet another smirk on her lips.  

“Hello, welcome to premium. Thank you for subscribing. I hope you enjoy all of the videos and pictures that only a select few of you will ever get to see. If you’re feeling even more generous please be sure to check out my wishlist. Now, let’s have fun together.” 

Her voice is silky smooth, Seungwan thinks. She replays the simple video a few times just to hear her make this decision sound like she’s part of an exclusive club where only she is invited, though, she’s aware that isn’t true at all. Joy likely has a ton of people paying to see the most intimate parts of her. The comments on this simple welcoming video are at 59 which means at least that many people have also fallen into the trap, though if Joy is the prize, Seungwan wonders if be tricked into paying extra like this is worth it in the end. 

She decides to read through some of them just to get a sense of how people communicate with her here. 

ksgeees says: can’t wait for you to send me my video Joy😏

canudoit2609 says: so hot🔥

r4bb1tfr13nd says: damn i should have subbed earlier🥵🥵🥵

speedzoom0408 says: YOU CAN HAVE ALL MY MONEY

HYUNSKY says: most beautiful girl ever 

Strangely, the latter comment is the only one Joy has bothered to give a reply to. 

xNotYourJoyx says: @HYUNSKY wow, thank you😳

The compliment is definitely correct and deserving of a reply, yet, Seungwan wishes she were the one to tell Joy such things and have her respond solely to her. Jealousy is a green-eyed monster and though she probably shouldn’t be feeling it toward a complete stranger, she does. The sound of the keys as she types out her own comment with her free hand that hasn’t been teasing herself is the only thing she can hear now. Not even the wind outside is able to pierce her eardrums and break her from this spell that Joy has put her under. 

Wannie2102 says: you are so perfect, Joy.

It’s simple and Seungwan hates it, but she simply must tell this girl something, anything, in hopes that she sees it and feels happy to be complimented. 

Silence now, nothing but the screen before her for light inside the cold bedroom. The list of videos, 71 in total, tempting Seungwan, taunting almost. Her left hand numb now from just resting against her own body whilst her right-hand clicks onto the next one in the list after the welcoming video. 

The same white background, however, Joy is positioned in the video as soon as it starts this time. Laying down on a black crushed velvet sofa in only her underwear. Her right hand gently caressing her breasts as she grunts out a few low moans. Her left hand in a similar position to where Seungwan is resting her own. The tired and slow circles in which she moves her hand causes her eyes to roll into the back of her head as Seungwan changes her own pace to match that of Joy’s on the screen. 

Her bed creaks with every movement of Joy’s that she mimics, the headboard bashing against the wall behind her whenever Joy quickens her pace and then sounds like a light drumming whenever she slows. The neighbor next door has definitely been awakened by the rhythmic sound of Seungwan rocking her body against her fingers. 

“You’re enjoying this, huh?” The words surprise Seungwan out of her reverie as it’s as if Joy is present and asking her specifically and knowing that she too is pleasuring herself as she is doing. Without even thinking she manages to gasp out a yes in reply that only she can hear, yet gains a response from Joy almost like she can magically hear her. “I wish I could watch you touch yourself to me.” she pauses to lowly moan. “For me.” 

The pressure rises between her thighs once more except this time her body allows her to release every bit of tension she’s had to keep trying to get rid of for weeks. Her entire body collapses against itself as she indulges herself in what she’s convinced is the longest orgasm to ever exist. Her legs shaking wildly as her arm tenses up and flex to make sure she feels every bit of her undoing. The sound of Joy finishing up her own continues to play in the background for further motivation but the deed has already been done. 

She rests momentarily, staring up at the ceiling as gentle pants fill the room both from herself and the laptop. Nothing else in the world matters at this very moment. However, once more Joy manages to surprise Seungwan with her telepathic way of just knowing somehow when to speak to her viewer. 

“Thank you for that, I hope you come back soon for more.” and then the video ends. 

A dark screen replacing the beautiful image of Joy just as spent as Seungwan feels. But, now she’s left to think about everything that has just transpired between herself, the screen and a girl she doesn’t even know. Guilt wells up in her chest and she slams the screen shut almost shattering the glass. “Why did you do this?” is the only thing that repeats inside of her mind. No longer focused on the pulsating feeling against her hand as she pulls it out of her shorts too fast and whips herself with the waistband which will no doubt sting in the morning.

Her legs shakily drag her body to the bathroom almost tripping over various clothes that have sat there waiting to be cleaned for way too long now. She turns on the shower for the second time tonight and steps into it, almost falling immediately. The cold water shocks her body into feeling something other than the after-effects of pleasuring herself. Scrubbing every inch of her body intensely and repeating inside of her mind that she’ll cancel the subscription tomorrow and never do anything like this ever again. She can’t. Joy is a stranger and she shouldn’t be doing these things.

By the time she’s finished almost burning her skin with the washcloth to make sure she’s rid herself of her sins and changing her fair skin to a reddish shade, the clock on the bedside table shows that there are only three hours before she’s due to wake up for work. The bed seems tainted now, so she grabs the blanket and sleeps on the sofa that is far less comfortable. 

Joohyun is definitely going to ask her about whether or not she used the site, definitely going to notice the dark circles under her eyes from the lack of sleep and will definitely draw up her own conclusion anyway no matter what her answer is. She tries her best not to think about any of this but there’s just a constant loop of the images of Joy, the sound of her voice, and the way she encouraged Seungwan to feel again. 

She dreams of dark hair and brown eyes that night and moans that could be the most heavenly sound in the world or a new addiction that Seungwan isn’t ready for but may not have a choice but to indulge in it. 

pt. ii

[honestsycrets]

Tell Me The Truth | [ Ivar x Reader (Peaky AU) ]

❛ pairing | ivar x reader, ubbe x reader, freydis x reader

❛ type | doubleshot, peaky blinders au

❛ summary | despite what you want, the lines on ivar’s hand don’t lie.

❛  warnings | bad palmistry, cursing in another language idk how accurate it is (whore), peaky blinders au (very loose), gypsy!reader (stereotypes i’m sorry okay?), requested piece, “hallucinations”, idk what the song name is that I included anymore.

Read the patterns on my skin

He has big hands. 

Let the fire somehow get in

The kind you get lost in. 

See my heart line is intact

The kind that hold a whole world in his hands

So this is what I lacked

And don’t even know it yet.

“See something?” he breaks the long-winded silence. You, cradling his hand, find yourself staring at the long lines of his palms between curtains of candles that illuminate your caravan. Yout thumbs run over the lines of his large hand, comparing them to your memory, marking out everything you saw. 

“Instinct. Same thing I always see. Your natural talent for adaptation. The need not to hold back,” You slur, taking a long drag of the singed cigarette between your index and middle finger. You draw out a flood of smoke into his face, grey and light. He swats away the smoke and emerges from it, his pale face cut like a bag of crisp diamonds, or whatever else he packed in that baggie. 

You reach your hand out toward it, and he rests back in the chair, a picture of a great man, one that anyone should fear. Under all that, the energy radiating of a boy on an uncertain path. It wouldn’t help him to know that. Maybe he’d take off that grey cap and swipe you in the face if you said that. 

 “What else?” he closes his fist, tucking the bag into the pocket on the inside of his suit. You scowl, lips pursing, the coins on your wrist tinkling as you flick your hand toward him, caught in indignation. 

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, Ivar,” you say, pronouncing each word sharper than the last. “Every time you come here it is the same--” 

“You’re holding something back.” 

He says it with such evenness. You knew he would. He draws the button of his suit jacket together, obscuring the chain on the inside, and the buttons latch together. You roll your lips in-- god, he’s become so beautiful. It’s been some time since he came back from Paris, his body changed, and yet he’s the same boy you knew before the war. Your lips are sealed. Keep sweet. Keep quiet.

“It’ll hurt,” you tell him, despite the fact that you know you aren’t talking about yourself. It wouldn’t just hurt you. It would hurt… deeper than that. You stand up, forgetting the instruments of your trade, the cards on the table and the crystals. Everything that would help Ivar get what he wanted from you: answers. “You know I wouldn’t hurt you.” 

The scoff bursts from your lips in a short-lived chortle.

“You’re a man. Not just any man-- one of those men.” You say, and though you stand all straps and coin and cloth, you bring his hand to your lips. A chaste kiss blossoms along his scraped and bruised knuckles. “It’s what you all do. You’re destructive.” 

“When have I ever hurt you? We’ve known each other… mm, how long?” He stands up then, his gloved fingers settling on his cane to steady him. He’s tall when he’s at height, pumped up on medication, he turns his head to you. 

“Twenty-four years,” you say. “Give or take.” 

His dark lashes pull from eyes rimmed in that god awful blue. You run your hand over your shawl, slipping it off your shoulders and setting it on the table. His eye flickers, catching fresh skin. “So tell me,” he whispers, turning his head, and you struggle against what he asks of you.

“You should go.” You tell him, backtracking toward something or anything other than the truth. That he is, or he isn’t, one of those god awful blinders. He steps forward. The floorboards scream under your feet, and suddenly your pressed to the bed you share with your own ghost of the past. 

“Say it again,” he tells you. This time he raises his tanned hand to your cheek, flicking once, snatching your attention with one smooth swat across your cheek. Just enough to get your attention. “Call me it again.” 

“You’re a Blinder. That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?” you call him by name, and its enough, because the wrinkle in your nose is enough to say what you think of those sorts of men. He holds your gaze, sorting out the remnants of lost affection, all mixed and masked in some foreign longing. He devours your fear, voice lilting nice and soft, sucking you into him. “Now you’ve got it--” 

Ivar snatches your throat, pitiful under his large hand. “That’s right. Now answer me what I came here for.” 

He’s grown big. You think back to that boy that used to come to play when Aslaug would come to visit her forefather’s home. How he revered the scars of his big brother, mapped stratagems for him with Ubbe, and worked so hard. 

Now he nearly had everything that you told him would come. All but a few things that you worked so hard to suppress despite knowing that nothing and no one could keep one back from their true calling. You never failed to answer him in the past. That’s what he needs. Someone real to latch onto.

“You’ll find love. That’s what I saw in your palm.”

One day. But it wouldn’t be today. Even tomorrow. He’s settled enough with the prospect to release you, step aside and fix his coat. 

“I already knew that. We’re opening the pub tomorrow,” he tells you. “Stop by.”

“But Ivar--” you protest. “She won’t be what you think she is.” 

“Shht.” Ivar says, flipping his cap and settling it back on his head. “You worry too much.” 

It’s not an order. Not by the way he says it as he hobbled to the door, stopping for just a second, long enough to share a bated breath with you. “Stop by. There are men there. Elias didn’t give his life down there to see you here.”

He wouldn’t want you to be alone. In his memory you give Ivar a very short nod, remembering those god awful mines. The ones that caved in on themselves and—“I’ll see you. Have to get to the docks, eh?” 

There are men there, he said. 

You drew your shawl over your shoulders, obscuring the beaded dress as much as you could, and opened the door. Inside there were men. Ones that buzzed around the room like bugs, swarming and drinking, and you made your way forward squished between chests and backs, booze and cigarettes. 

“Anotha’ whiskey da’lin, anotha’ whiskey!” the night had only just begun, and yet, the men were already trashed. Behind the long stretch of a barstool stands a girl. Her hair chopped at her nape, painfully pale, with a look in her eyes the same of a dull horse. Freydis, her name flickers across your head, like a great dull name. Before you and behind you, a chill runs down your arms. Hairs lift, and you look straight ahead, past the warm brown waxed countertop, through the women there. She smiles like tainted ink in a pure pool, spreading her tainted nature around in a pool of stupid men.

Take care’a my boy, a voice whispers. Your head snaps, bouncy curls at your neck, and you mind yourself to stay firmly in reality, rather than in the plane between, where no one here could be.

“(Y/N)!” That deep voice, thick and heavy, reeks of an old friend. Appearing beside you, you find the tall one: Ubbe. It’s been some time since you’ve seen him. 

“Ubbe…”  He’s grown taller, if possible, with a handsome beard where his brothers faltered. His eyes shine with a warmth Ivar usually lacks, despite the war. It’s not changed him in the same way that it changed the others. 

“Surprised to see you here. You hate drunks.” He offers you his elbow to take. 

“Ivar invited me,” you grumble. Invited was a kind word for what Ivar did. Because really, it was no invitation-- not when you wanted to know where he was, where he… “Besides, it is nice to see the boys.” 

Bjorn was nowhere to be seen. But Hvitserk was drinking heartily at the bar, throwing back booze after booze, while Sigurd played jauntily with a small crew by his side. None of them looked like war-stricken hounds. Except-- Hvitserk, yes, Hvitserk. Hvitserk looked like--

“The boys,” he laughs. “And me?” 

You suppress that damn laughter and turn toward what was really on your mind. “When did that curvă show?” 

“The girl?” Ubbe sets his hand to yours as if there are more important things to focus on, but there isn’t. Your head follows her even after Ubbe has rounded the corner to the back office. “Ivar’s new girl.” 

“Margrethe--” 

Ubbe shakes his head. That’s the end of that. Margrethe, expired. Freydis-- the new girl. His new girl. Dead girl walking. And still she’s the lucky one. The envy in your belly twinges. Then it burns. 

“Are you okay?” Ubbe asks. 

“Do you want to have whiskey?” 

“Now?” he prompts. 

“Well,” you shift over the table, spreading your legs over the table, slightly dangling. “Ivar did say there would be men here. It could be like old times.” 

He lingers in front of the door, likely feeling a thousand thoughts, but it’s pointless really. His eyes close, just enough that you know he’s debating it-- and what for? Had Ivar not made his choice? He’s tempted enough. Despite the rattling of voices behind that door, he’s thinking about it. You shrug off your shawl, clap back on heels, step by step, until you’re there-- in front of him. He can’t. Not at first, not until you bring his hands around your back, pressing into him. He willingly squeezes your ass, leaning his head back, gazing at you to weigh your seriousness. 

“Like old times.” Like old times implied being second-- second to his baby brother. But for one night, should he really care? Ubbe spins you around, jerks your ass to his back, and you feel him growing hard against his slacks. He thinks back to all those days before coming back, swatting your hips with emphasis.

“Go get the whiskey.” You move-- toward the stash, but he stops you cold. “No. Go get it from Ivar.” 

@tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou​ @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221​ @wonderwoman292​ @naaladareia​ @beyond-the-ashes​ @generic-fangirl​ @chinduda​ @laketaj24​, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44​ @readsalot73​ @squirrelacorngliterfarts​ @gold-dragon-slayer @medievalfangirl @sallydelys  @bluearchersstuff​ @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever

[themissingmarvel]

Kind Regards, Detective [Part 4]

(A prelude of sorts. It’s another long one because it’s 1:38 in the morning and sleep eludes me the way it eludes the reader. Life imitates art. Anyway, things are moving and I do promise the next chapter is going to be kind of a big deal. Also I created an image I’ll be using for the series that I can’t introduce yet but it’ll also be tomorrow ((sunday??? idk)) so we shall see. Anyway, thanks for reading if you do, and ask to be tagged if you want. And if I forgot to tag you, yell at me.

Pairing: Detective Loki x fbi!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Descriptions of violence, swearing, awkward flirtations

Catch up: [Part 1] // [Part 2] // [drabble] // [Part 3] 

Once the phone was plugged in to her laptop at the station, the encryption starting, Agent Cairns let her know it would be a few hours to get it all sorted into something they could use. He’d be encrypting the data and replicating the phone digitally to the laptop so they could use it as such without triggering the GPS. Hours, he said. Hours.

There was a feeling of anguish now in her body and she didn’t like it. David had become exceptionally quiet as he sat across the table this time, not next to her, going through the evidence that had been cataloged and documented. His face was fixed and she knew he was gone. She supposed it was fitting.

Taking the phone that was too large to fit in the pocket of her jeans, but that was on the table, and pressing a few numbers on the touch screen, she held it to her ears. It rang once.

“I thought you might have been ghosting me. You know, this is exactly why I disabled my Tinder account.”

The voice was smooth, though not as smooth as he wanted it to be. She imagined Adrian was like eating a Snickers when you wanted the chocolate mousse. Satisfying, tasty, but not really what you should be going for. 

She sighed, “You disable it three times a year, Adrian. Four, last year,” she shook her head, realizing she was falling into that same damn trap, “Listen, I got an email that the toxicology reports was taking a while. Is there a reason or is the agency backed up?” She wasn’t being smart with him, but serious. Focused. Enough so to miss the blue eyes looking up carefully and studying her. Watching her. Seeing her fidget as she shifted her weight from one foot to another as she stood instead of sat.

A brief pause played out and Y/N didn’t like it, “They found something. It’s not something we usually find, ladybug. Weird timing, though. The results came through about twenty minutes ago.”

Her heart stopped.

“So what did they find?” She knew there would be a run-of-the-mill sedative, aware the autopsies being done would find puncture marks on the bodies. Aware that this would be basic. God, it had to be.

“I honestly didn’t believe it, but they found a nerve agent in the bodies. I mean, it was still fresh so it was used recently, but it’s fucking VX, Y/N. Who the hell manages to get their hands on a nerve agent like that, let alone enough to kill twelve adults, and no one notices?” It was hard to rattle a man like Adrian. He was a few years older, but his cases had been gruesome. Not on purpose. He was given the affectionate nickname of the Grim Reaper, that Y/N never used, whenever he was on a case. This was not going to help his stats.

Pressing her hand against her forehead she winced and closed her eyes, “Do I actually need to ask you to find out if any labs or agencies reported anything missing?”

He sighed, “We both know that any companies that have something like this aren’t going to report it going missing. That kind of legwork takes weeks. It’ll be defense companies and agencies and that shit takes time. I’m sorry, ladybug. I am.” He was genuine this time. He was an asshole, but he felt bad. He knew a missing nerve agent wasn’t something anyone announced when they could cover it up.

Without a word she pulled the phone from her ear and ended the call, no goodbye, not to Adrian. Not today. Instead, she stared at the screen and spoke softly, “He took their breath away.”

By now David’s eyes were tearing into her, feeling the concern, the worry, the panic and able to piece together enough to know that it wasn’t good, “Who did?”

Y/N looked over at David, her eyes suddenly tired, “They were doused with a nerve agent, called VX. It literally shuts down your respiratory system and you die gasping for breath. It’s military grade, David. It’s considered a WMD by the United States and it was used to kill twelve random fucking people staged in a church.” 

The room was eerily silent as the two stared at one another. David was trying to understand what she had just said. Well, he understood it logically, but on the level of how someone commits murder, it was beyond comprehension, “How- I mean, it’s- but-” not even David could verbalize it.

Raising an eyebrow she kept her body lax, “How does someone get their hands on it? Honestly, what I’d like to know. But… this isn’t just some psychopath, David. This man isn’t a criminal as we understand him. And it almost doesn’t matter if we can even find someone willing to admit the chemical went missing, since the decay rate takes forever. He could have had this in his closet for years. And now he’s disabling phones?” 

Fear was a hard one for Y/N. Not because it was a difficult emotion to consider, but because it meant she was vulnerable. Being scared was one thing, but fear was permeating. She had seen so much and read so many different files. She wished, suddenly, the place had been a massacre. She wanted to be able to look at blood splatter marks and stab wounds. Signs of a struggle. But no. What they had was a fucking stack of romcom blu-rays, perfectly preserved bodies, a chemical agent banned by the United States Government, and missing phones. This wasn’t just ‘some guy’ anymore. It never had been. And maybe she always knew that. Maybe she knew when she had read the flowers were bred to be black, naturally, or that the letters were signed with perfect penmanship to each individual agent. But now it was real.

A ding came through, a text from Adrian that told her they were sending in a dozen 2-PAMs in epi-pen form. A dozen. Fuck. She wanted to thank him for even getting his hands on any, given the state of the world, though she supposed the FBI would also be sending over a nice little note forbidding them from disclosing the information with anyone on the case, other than the two of them. If word got out someone had this in their closet? No.

It had never been in David’s nature to be the caretaking type, but something roused him. Maybe it was the look in her eyes, the way her body had stopped fidgeting entirely and had become rubber. Perhaps even he had seen her hand shake. 

Pushing his chair back, David stood, “I’m hungry. And so are you, hamburger alarm be damned. Let’s get Chinese.” 

____

She had been quiet on the drive over to the restaurant David liked to go to when no one was around, and it was mid-afternoon by now. A few people were in the place, but nothing dramatic. A small table by the back was where the two had been seated, Y/N fidgeting nervously as she was clearly trying to process what was going on.

He didn’t like seeing her this way. 

“The usual to start?” A young woman approached, perhaps early twenties, David smiling appreciatively at her as Y/N looked away.

He nodded, “Two. And some tea,” he smiled, a smile that was genuine but nothing dramatic, a smile that meant he was actually smiling. Soft. Small.

It seemed to perk Y/N’s attention, “You really don’t strike me as the tea type. And why did you order my food?” Her face contorted as she felt herself pulled back to reality.

David grinned, “You weren’t answering so I got you egg drop soup. Relax. And tea is good for you. I think,” he smirked.

Y/N couldn’t help but scoff with a smile, shaking her head as she looked at him, “You’re so strange, Detective.”

He grinned, “I’m not the one who wanted a fairy tattooed on my ribcage.”

Her face was bright as her eyes widened, “Absolutely no, Mr. Neck Tattoo!” Her voice raised, though jovial. Bright. Warm. He liked it. It felt like how he expected tea was supposed to taste. Good for you. 

Smiling still, he thanked the waitress as she brought over two small cups of soup, the tea coming shortly thereafter. David poured the hot liquid into the small, white ceramic cups, one for each, “Fair. You’re a little weird too, though. It’s nice,” he lifted the cup and took a sip, glancing at her over it. For a second, the briefest moment, he could have sworn he saw her blush.

Picking up the spoon she had some of the soup, rather taken at how good it was. In her time traveling, she found that wasn’t uncommon for small, unassuming spots to have some of the best food around. Nothing you’d find on the Food Network, but delicious none the less. Good because it wasn’t trying to be. Because it just was.

“Your work with Dover and Birch was good shit, David. Little messy, but good,” she raised an eyebrow at him.

He leaned back and smirked. She liked that smirk. It told her he liked what she was saying, that he was listening. That he agreed with her and that he was present. It was a smirk that reminded her of the lingering smoke from a dying cigarette, brief, soft, but strong if you stood close enough. It would bring back memories and haunt you if you weren’t careful, “Hardest case I ever had, next to this. Parents sure as shit didn’t help.”

A soft chuckle left her lips as she nodded, “Family never does. Well intentioned, always. But you know what they say about the road to hell,” she held a hand up, “paved with good intentions.” 

They talked, after. For longer than either intended. It had been so long since anyone touched him the way she did. He didn’t think of the random women he had met in bars miles outside of Conyers where no one knew who he was. In this moment, of a strange kind of tragedy and trauma, he found himself bonding with a woman he had wanted to hate the moment he read her name on a piece of paper. 

And in truth, she felt similarly. She had been so unsure of what lay ahead in Conyers, beyond knowing she was unwelcome. But this didn’t feel like unwelcome. Detective Loki felt like strong arms she had once felt keeping her close, though this time she felt safe. She knew in this moment, the man across from her could protect her from more than just the bad guy around the corner. Shared trauma did that. Bonded you. She understood that a man like Detective Loki wasn’t a common occurance in the world and he was the thing you wished for when you finally caught the clock at “11:11”. 

The drive back had kept them both in a better space. Not to say either were ‘ok’ by any means, but they were better. An emotional connection, on a level one could never really quantify. It was one forged on battlefields, they both knew. A connection in the midst of war was one never forgotten or loosely held together. It was iron. It was solid.

Back at the precinct time moved fast. It was bearable only because they had each other, now. Focused on a sheet of paper, David would be briefly interrupted by Y/N shoving another one in front of him wordlessly, telling him without say so he needed to read it. He did. And he did the same to her. He had told himself that sitting next to her as they worked was so he could stay focused, but somehow he knew it was more than that. No bullets were flying at her head but he wanted to keep her safe just the same. He couldn’t hold her. He wouldn’t. 

Again the precinct had died and again the two had been left alone, waiting for that damn phone to be done processing and encrypting. 

And it was.

A soft ‘beep’ alerted Y/N the laptop had finished and the phone was ready for review. Popping her head up, her neck aching and her back sore, she felt her stomach suddenly rumble. Looking at the time, she saw the clock read ‘9:26pm’ on it. Concern washed on her features as David pulled his chair so close he was touching her, the woman reaching at her phone first and glancing. Her alarm had never gone off. Squinting, she shook her head, “Fucking technology… all right.” 

Putting the phone down, she opened up the application that looked almost identical to any cellphone interface. Shaking her head she sighed, “Technology is so weird… OK. So. If you were hiding something, where would you put it?” She spoke aloud, though not necessarily to David. She knew he was close, his leg against hers, shoulder-to-shoulder as they read the screen together.

“No chance we’ll find an app or some- oh, nevermind…” David trailed off, almost about to joke that people weren’t really stupid enough to put a dating app or a hookup app on their phone that blatant. But they were. And they did. 

Y/N glanced at him, “People are always that stupid, David. But the question is why a married woman has Tinder on her phone,” she double-clicked the app, bringing it up. No login required, IT had made sure of that, but she was curious what was on there. Deaths hadn’t been made public, save for a family’s choice, so the chance of someone ‘unmatching’ due to it was low. Both were rather surprised at the number of matches, however. Conversations littered the page and the pictures used were ones that you could perhaps make out who it was if you knew. And they did. But the profile requested someone for something ‘discreet’. 

Scrolling was unpleasant, at best, and Y/N rolled her eyes. Men desperate for hookups, many unanswered messages. Some answered. Some even with meetups planned. And of course the profiles messaging her were inoccuous. Other people looking for hookups. David documented any dates he saw, making sure to follow up with the individuals. No last names and private profiles made it hard, but they had something to go off of.

Beyond that, there was nothing, “If someone did meet her on this… he’s unmatched her. And if he’s good, he’s wiped himself. We’ll need to ask specialists in DC to get a release from the company to get records. See what we can scrounge. I’ll get that going, you keep browsing the phone. You’re a smart guy, you’ll know it when you see it,” she smirked briefly at him, David hiding his grin as she stood, the detective pulling the laptop to where he was.

Getting up, Y/N pulled out her phone, typing up a few quick emails on their encrypted and authorized server, the one that didn’t use Conyers’ piss-poor security. A few quick clicks and she sent out the requested information, reading a few others regarding 2-PAM being sent to the station for the morning. 

Fuck, that was fast.

“Ladybug, you OK? Hung up on me. Worried about you.”

Frowning at her phone she felt that tug again at Adrian. That desire to be close. Knowing he’d always just flirt. Like her sister told her once, Sometimes the asshole falls in love with you and sometimes you fall in love with the asshole. So eloquent.

“Fine. And don’t call me ladybug on here. You know this gets monitored.”

Ding!

“Should I text it to your cell then? Finally gonna give me that number?”

Shaking her head she clicked off the phone. That had been a point of contention with Adrian. He had her work phone, but her private one was her own. The flirtation was done in the office and she knew, knew that if he had her private line she would fall. Fall for a man who was emotionally incapable of being connected to her. She didn’t want to fall for a Snickers bar.

It was another hour of phone scanning and scrolling through emails she had been sent, knowing the autopsies would take longer to get back. Twelve bodies was a lot, and while patterns emerged, it took time. And families were involved… it was never easy. The job never was.

Her stomach roared, suddenly, wincing as she felt the ache of not having eaten. Even the detective looked up, raising an eyebrow, “Need to get some food?” 

Holding back another wince of pain that came from neglecting herself this long she nodded, “Probably. I should… I should head back anyway. You’re welcome to see if you find anything on the laptop but the app itself is pretty telling. See if we can deep scrub and get more data from it. Sort of ideal.” She sighed, pushing back her hair as she felt the need for sleep but the vague understanding it wouldn’t come. A fickle mistress.

Was it disappointment? David frowned a bit as he watched her, “I mean… I can drive you back. If you want, of course. We’ve got a three-star Taco Bell nearby,” he forced a smile. 

But Y/N felt herself tighten, her body, her thoughts, her emotions. He was pulling at a piece of her she didn’t like to think about. The piece all those boys in bars and officers in other districts never understood. He was fighting to fit in her life and she was finding that in only a few days he was doing a great damn job at it. She needed distance. Space. Safety. But he was safety, wasn’t he? God, this was complicated.

A thin smile painted itself onto her lips, “Raincheck. I’ll grab some takeout nearby. Hell, even some Ramen from the gas station sounds good. But I’ll meet you back here early. Get some rest, David.”

With that, she collected her things, not watching as the man who fought to keep the world out was fighting to keep it from overwhelming him now. There was chaos, and fear. Of course. But there was trauma. And there was a woman he felt so compelled to keep safe that it was unclear why, exactly. She didn’t remind him of some kid he knew growing up, or even one of those stupid ulterior motives. He felt a part of her that was good, and of all people he knew keeping the good stuff good was important. That was his work. She was an agent, though. Nothing stays pure forever.

As she packed her files into the rental that felt familiar and foreign, she didn’t think about what tomorrow might bring, or what the world held. She was distracted again. Words spoken to her in passing, a man getting to know her. A man with eyes that glowed when he was focused and who blinked more than most, tight blinks, when he was upset. Nervous. Scared. Angry. He had his tells. 

And as she drove back to her hotel with an acute awareness she wasn’t sleeping tonight, she ignored the tug at her gut that told her something was wrong. The calm before the storm. The flickering lights before the power goes out.

Sometimes you fall in love with the asshole.

But sometimes the asshole falls in love with you.

( @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @is-it-madness @oscarflysaac @detecellie @peccobagnaia​ @fgtakbrjbdl​ )

[sleepypeaky]

{getaway}-pt.1

Reader is the Blinder’s chauffeur....naturally that entails getaway driving too

Part 1/4-------- part 2

WC: 750?

A/n: as with all my shit, i had this idea while driving (got my license woohoo!!) and had to write it so it would stop eating my brain. this may turn out to be a Finn x reader?? idk?? finn is my wife?? but he also smol gay boi?? im confused. but idk yet. only tommy in this chapter. bls tell me your thoughts 

_________

1925 

You breathed hard, 3...2...1

“GO!”

You slammed down on the gas peddle and shot out onto the open road. The fields and farms of the countryside receded to a mere blur and your speed increased. You felt your skin prickle with the force of the wind, your eyes were covered with goggles that were meant for mechanics. You leaned forward in the seat of the rumbling car. High speed. You loved every second of it.

You looked in your rear view mirror, your opponent had fallen behind. Coward you thought. In the first 5 seconds of acceleration–high speed acceleration– the cars tended to make a loud rattling noise; this frightened many newbies and caused them to slow down, as had happened to your opponent today.

You saw the finish line (marked by a tree) approaching fast. Winning didn’t faze you anymore, considering that you never lost. Just as you approached the point a handful of uniformed police men stepped to the sides of the road.

You slammed your foot on the break, causing you to hurl forward and the car to skid in a semi circle to a halt. 

“Fuck.” You cursed, it wasnt the first time you had been arrested, and you werent all too keen to do it again. You wrenched the car into park and kicked open the door.

Your opponent had stopped short too. However, he looked a lot more panicked than you did at the moment. 

You walked towards the group of officers and showed your hands, rolling your eyes. 

“(y/n) (y/l/n), you are under arrest for street racing and taking illegal bets, in doing so you have also violated the posted speed limit, and have caused reckless endangerment......again.” The cop seemed more exasperated than angry when he got to the last word. 

You rode in relative silence back to the station. You had been taken in 2 times previously; the first you were let off by paying the exceeded speed limit fine, the second you had to serve the night in jail and you played dumb enough to dodge a fine. This time however, you knew you wouldn’t get off so easy.

____

You paced the time holding cell. There were 4 other people occupying the cell: the other racer, a drunk man who was lying so still he might as well have been dead, and another man with a severely beat up face– probably a bar fight.

You pondered what to do; you worked as a bar hand at a sleazy pub, and part time as a books manager at a mechanic shop (being that you were one of the few people in this god forsaken place that was literate). Even with these two jobs you made very little money, and therefore, whatever fines that gave you today, you certainly would not be able to pay–

“(y/l/n)!” A guard yelled.

You looked up, shaken out of your thoughts.

He unlocked the cell door and held it open,

“Yer charges ‘ave been dropped and fines payed. Yer free to go.”

You looked at him suspiciously, there is no way that that was true, however, you were not exactly in a situation that you could remedy on your own, so you walked out of the cell.

You retrieved the things they took off you when you arrived and made you way for the door. The cool air hit you and you looked around. 

“(y/n) (y/l/n)?” You heard a man’s voice ask.

You turned.

A tall man walked towards you, blue eyes, cigarette, and a cap. A Shelby. 

Your assessment was confirmed when he introduced himself.

“I’m Tommy Shelby. No doubt you’ve heard of me so i’ll get to the point. I have been told by my people – people who have attended your races– that you are the best driver around. I have also been told that you are young, and are already on your third arrest. Now, I will give you two choices: you can walk back in that jail and give up the bright future you could have, or you can come work for me as my chauffeur, get paid a reasonable salary, and have a nice– if not exciting– life.” 

He finished this speech by putting the cigarette back in his mouth and taking a long breath in.

You stared at him. It was a lot to take in, but naturally you accepted.

“Exciting you say?” You ask with a grin.

He smirks, before turning around and beaconing you to follow him,

“Very.”

___

[bellatriestowritesometimes]

Ever Been In Love?

Spencer Reid x Reader 

Word Count: 1.7k 

A/N: Slightly got carried away and tried basing it loosely on the finale, changing a few things but also keeping some of it the same. To the anon who requested this, I hope I didn’t disappoint you<3

(GIF not mine, credits to creator)

hi could I request a Spencer x reader fic, kind of a redo of the whack finale, but instead of jjs confession, maybe the reader could accidentally confess, like through a lie detector instead of the truth or dare game? idk I’m SORRY if it’s too specific, I just want some angst and fluff, ty in advance💓 love your writing

You took in your surroundings once you felt your heavy eyes open. The last thing you remembered was bombarding a jewellery store in hopes of finding Casey who was the unsub and Melissa who he was going after.

You tried lifting your right hand up to wipe at the bothering, trickling feeling you felt towards your hairline, though that was proving to be difficult as heavy chains occupied both of your wrists and ankles.

You caught your own reflection in a mirrored glass window and saw that it was blood oozing out of a sore cut located on your forehead. Your eyes then took in the odd device that was strapped around your chest and only then you realised that it was a lie detector.

“What the hell is going on?” you shouted, attempting to push yourself out of the seat you were shackled in, but you were overpowered by dizziness and the thumping you felt in your head.

“Spencer? Can anyone hear me?” You raised your voice again as you tried looking for a way out. There was a door on your left of course, but the weight you felt on your limbs made it tediously difficult to try and move.

“Is anyone going to bloody answer me? Where the hell am I? Where is Spencer?” You growled, getting impatient. As far as you remembered you chased after both Casey and Melissa with Spencer. It was the both of you who barged into the jewellery store, but anything after that felt fuzzy.

“You were out for quite some time pretty,” an eager voice came through the intercom,

“Casey? Is that you hiding through a speaker?” You taunted but yelped out in pain once you felt sharp discomfort radiate through your body.

“See, now not only have I got you strapped to a lie detector- which we’re going to have some fun with, you’re also in a chair that allows me to shock you if you lie or in this case piss me off.”

“Do you have Melissa?” You stuttered out, trying to wrap your head around the situation you were in.

Casey didn’t reply but instead you heard a female voice,

“Please just give me back my daughter,” Melissa wailed over the intercom more to Casey than to you.

“Let her go. You’re not getting anywhere with this, its only a matter of time until my team finds us.”

You waited for a reply, but instead were met with the door unlocking.

A shaky Melissa cautiously stepped into the room with a gun in her hand, she warily sat down in the chair opposite you, where a laptop that was connected to the wires around your chest sat.

“Are you okay?” you questioned, your eyes darting between her scared ones and the gun she was gripping. Not giving her a chance to reply you opened your mouth once again, “Do you know where Spencer- my partner is? Is he here? Is he hurt?”

She didn’t respond to your questions but instead whispered, “I’m s-sorry. He’s making me do this, he has my daughter Candice,” she disclosed but you had already figured that part out.

Casey’s voice rang through the intercom once again, “I want to play a little game with you. The same one I played with pretty boy whilst you were out.” He paused,

“The rules are simple. Don’t lie- if you do somebody will end up dead.”

“If you think you’re going to get away with this you’re wrong,” you replied after he was finished.

“I’m not going back to jail,” he objected. Clearly you had struck a nerve.

“You’ve not only kidnapped a child and their mother, but kidnapped two federal agents, so jail is looking like a pretty good place right now.” You were in absolute disbelief on how you hadn’t figured out that Casey had been keeping tabs on the team and the case this whole time. How else could he have planned all of this?

A gunshot over the intercom made you jump, followed by a cry that escaped from Melissa,

“P-Please don’t hurt my baby Candice!”

Panic washed over you, “Okay! Okay! I’ll play just don’t hurt anyone!”

“That’s what I thought.” It was Casey speaking again, “Ever shoot anybody before?”

He had begun his game.

You took a deep breath, “Yes, I have.”

“T-truth.” Melissa clarified, waiting on Casey’s next question.

“You enjoy it?”

“No.” You groaned, lobbing your head back.

A couple of moments passed until a quiet “Lie,” fell from Melissa’s mouth.

And there the familiar jolting pain hit your body. Your hands tightly griped the arms of the chair as your face scrunched in agony.

“I told you not to lie,” Casey was shouting over your screams,

“No-no I’m not lying, okay I’m not lying! The people I shot-I had no choice but I did not enjoy it. I didn’t!” You tried to focus on anything else other than the prickly sensation travelling throughout your body.

You thought that you couldn’t possibly experience any pain that’s worse than this, but that pain was not even half of what Spencer was feeling being forced to watch you on the other side of the mirrored window. He was strapped down just like you were. Rattling the chains trying to get free, unable to listen to you screech out in agony anymore.

“Let her go!” He barked, though the focus wasn’t on him anymore.

“J-just let Candice go okay? Let her and Melissa go,” you tried saying but your mouth was dry, voice hoarse.

“What about Spencer?” Casey was enjoying this too much.

“Let him go too. Nobody else has to get hurt. This isn’t going to change anything- it’ll just make it worse for you. Make it better while you still can,” you tried bargaining with him but he just laughed.

“If I recall correctly, your biggest concern when you woke up was Spencer.”

“Is this classed as one of your questions?”

“No, no,” he chuckled. “It might be leading up to one though.”

“If you’ve hurt him I swear to God-” fury filled you as you tried getting out of the chair once more. The chains clattering against each other but it was no use. You were too weak and in too much pain.

Casey was laughing again, “Ready for my next question?”

You closed your eyes in anticipation.

“Ever been in love?”

“N-“

“Scratch that, I’ve got something better to ask,” Casey interrupted you.

A few minutes passed until he spoke again,

“Are you in love with your partner Spencer?” He asked instead.

Are you? Your self-consciousness asked. You cared about him yes, but never questioned it as anything more, or at least when you did you were quick to convince yourself that you were being irrational and selfish.

“No,” you breathed.

“...Lie.” Melissa delicately murmured hoping Casey wouldn’t hear.

But the raging shock you felt told you otherwise.

“I-yes I am, I don’t know!” You yelled but the pain wouldn’t stop.

“Please no more!” Your body was going numb but felt like it was on fire at the same time.

There was no answer over the intercom. You were close to passing out but the shock stopped just in time. Melissa was now by your chair, trying to get the chains off. You hadn’t heard or even saw the door open, but the room was now flooded with the police and not only was Melissa by you, Tara was there too. They were both telling you to stay still and Rossi had quickly instructed for one of the paramedics to help you.

“I-is Spencer okay? Have you found Candice?”

“Everyone’s fine. Luke has Candice, Spencer is getting looked at by the paramedics,” Rossi assured you.

-

Rossi’s wedding:

You were quick to head to the bar and were enjoying your beverage that was sure to leave a hangover, until a soft voice spoke next to you.

“How are you holding up?”

You turned to face Spencer, “I’m okay,” you smiled. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m okay,” Spencer repeated. You brought your glass to your lips,

“But I’d feel better if I told you this…” He looked into your eyes silently asking for permission to continue. You set the glass back down, already knowing where the conversation was going.

“When you were, um, with Melissa in that room...with the lie detector…” Spencer was trying to tread lightly.

“I know Spence. Tara told me that JJ and Emily both found you in the room opposite,” you finished for him, not knowing where to look.

“…You know polygraph tests are only 70 to 90% accurate, when a person is genuinely nervous its likely for it to say that they’re lying when really they’re telling the truth- I guess what I’m trying to say is that you could have been telling the truth even if it read as a lie…”

“Are you trying to spare me the embarrassment?” You tried making a joke out of something you didn’t find funny.

“No, not at all. It if makes you feel any better Casey made me take one too.”

“He did?” You questioned and Spencer nodded.

You shifted your body to face the bar instead of Spencer, “I-I think the lie detector might’ve been right,” you said lowly, “I wasn’t telling the truth… It was always too complicated to tell you how I really felt and I never realised it until that day…”

You started to feel really hot- like there was a great, big fire right in front of you, the hall starting to feel like a really cramped room.

“Y/N ask me what my answer was.”

You stayed quite, taking all of Spencer in, “Ask me Y/N,” he repeated softly.

“...What was your answer?”

“That I do,” he smiled, “in fact have feelings for you too. I didn’t need a polygraph test to make me realise, I-I guess I’ve just always had a soft spot for you,” he answered.

You didn’t say anything back, just carried on looking into his hazel eyes with an adoring smile. Spencer took that moment to try and lean forward, into what you thought was a kiss but a voice startled you both,

“I hope the only soft thing you guys are talking about is the cake that they’re about to cut,” Emily whisked by the both of you with a grin plastered across her face.

“Uh, great, we’ll be right there,” you laughed and turned your attention back to Spencer,

“Can we pick this up later?” You asked and he nodded.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” He smiled, “It’s okay, everything’s okay.”

Requests are Open<3

[inkstainedfanfics]

Hi M! So for drabble night i was wondering a deanxreader where they're not together yet but dean gets jealous? (need me some jealous dean tonight) idk angst and fluff i miss dean so much :( i hope you have a fantastic day 💕

@dont-give-a-bother I adore Dean so much. Thanks for the request! I hope you’re having a lovely day yourself :)

Dean slides his phone into his back pocket as he approaches the flickering neon sign. His muscles ache and the hunt earlier took a lot out of him, but you invited him to the bar, so to the bar he’s going.

The stench of alcohol and sweat washes over him as he yanks open the creaky door to the bar. A festering hole, the place you’d chosen. His eyes sweep over the crowd inside. Definitely not the best bar he’s ever been in. He takes a deep breath; you chose this. He’ll deal with it.

You’re sitting at the bar, a beer already in your hand, foot tapping along to the beat of the song playing from the jukebox. You’re a sight to see with your hair tied up and your head tilted back, lips curved around the rim of the amber bottle. Dean lingers by the door, watching you have a moment of peace as you laugh at something the bartender says and set the bottle back on the bar. He can’t help himself as a smile nudges the corners of his lips up. You’re beautiful, a wonder in the hell sentence of a life he lives. The feeling, this – this adoration of everything you do – wasn’t supposed to happen, yet here he stands, wondering as he watches you take another drink whether you’ve noticed how he tends to step toward you during hunts, to stick by your side in places like these.

He shifts his weight, wondering if he should say something tonight, ask you if this feeling is mutual, if maybe you could care for him the way he does for you.

A beat passes, then two, and Dean makes his decision. No. You deserve better. That doesn’t mean you can’t have a drink together, though.

Making his way through the hazy air, he falls into the open stool next to you.  “Hell of a place you picked.”

You grin at him and his heart replies, beating faster. Shit.

“Well, not all of us have been to every bar in the states.”

“Never been here before.” He glances around. “Thank god.”

“Shut up and get yourself something to drink, Winchester, or I’ll order for you. I know how you love the fruity drinks.”

He snorts and waves the bartender down, hyperaware of your arm when it brushes his.  And when you reach for a handful of peanuts from the bowl near him, he pictures for only a moment placing a kiss against the top of your head. It would seem so natural, so right, but he contains himself, just leans back and rolls his eyes.

“It wouldn’t kill you to say excuse me.”

“Oh, please,” you say, popping a peanut in your mouth, “this coming from the man who’s never said thank you in his life.”

“I save people. They owe me a thank you.”

“So full of yourself.” You glance across the room, stiffening suddenly.

“Hey, what is it?”

“Black eyes.”

A flash of panic shoots through him. He reaches for his gun instinctively, half standing as he scans the room. “Where?”

The word hangs in the air unanswered. You’re gone from your stool, bottle rattling around on the bar. Dean cusses, hand in his pocket as he looks through the faces in the room, trying to find yours.

You reappear in front of him, dragging a man behind you. “This is Dean. Dean, meet my friend, Isaac.”

Dean’s heart slams against his ribs as he takes in the man standing in front of him. “What?”

“I met him on a hunt a few months ago. He only hunts demons, so we call him Black Eyes.”

Dean glances at him again, taking in his solid build. “So there’s no demon?”

You don’t hear him, though, as Isaac tugs you to his side, whispering some inside joke that has you laughing.

Dean watches the two of you interact, realizing that he has no chance. You’re obviously taken with this man. He struggles to hold his temper as you continue chattering away with the stranger. There’s no reason to be here, not anymore.

Dean turns.

You call out for him. “Where are you going?”

“To the motel.” Dean doesn’t stop walking even when you walk to his side and tug on his arm.

“Why? You just got here.”

“Yeah, well, something came up.”

“Is it Sam?”

Dean cracks his neck. “No.”

“Feeling okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Then where are you going?”

He spins. “I’m going back to the room, okay? Is that fine with you, or do you want to invite your boyfriend there, too?”

You step back, stunned by the anger in Dean’s voice. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah, Mr. black eyes over there. Why don’t you just invite him back to your room?”

“Dean, what the hell is your problem?”

Dean runs a hand over his face. “You want to know what my problem?”

“Yeah.” You cross your arms over your chest.

He points at you, nostrils flaring. “My problem is that I love you, okay?”

His words hit him a second after he says them. You stare at him, eyes wide.

He shakes his head. “Forget it all. Have a nice night.” He spins on his feet and storms from the bar, shoulders drooping as he paces down the street.

You catch up with him halfway down the block, yanking on his bicep. “You can’t just say that and walk away.”

He grits his teeth. “I told you to forget it.”

You don’t bother responding to that, though, don’t even seem to bother to process the words as you search his face, hand still on his arm. “Did you mean it?”

He doesn’t answer as he takes in your urgent tone and the way your hand grips his arm.

“Dean.” The word’s sharp. “Did you mean what you said?”

He lets one more moment pass before he opens his mouth. “Yes.”

His entire self hangs on the line as you stare at him. Time has frozen, has wrapped itself up so that only the two of you stand on that sidewalk under the moon, so that nothing moves until you do.

“Thank god.”

He swallows the knot in his throat, not wanting to believe what he thinks he heard. “What?”

“I love you too, you dope.”

Dean refuses to believe it, refuses to let himself hope that you actually mean it. This must be a dream, a hallucination, a djinn’s doing. This can’t be reality.

But then you throw your arms around his neck and hold him tight, and he knows. As he hugs you back, still trying to process what happened, he knows this is real.

He can’t help the tear of joy that appears in the corner of his eye.

His next sentence is a whisper that’s half to you, half to the universe.

“Thank you.”