#so every bad drawing makes me feel like an idiot

[defstanis]

ive been feeling so down about my art lately :/ but ill keep pushing forward cause i just got to

[radicallicious]

.

[mariasont]

Give This Old Man a Heart Attack - A.H

a/n: incredibly self-indulgent per usual because i'm the biggest cry baby to ever exist

masterlist

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pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: you make a mistake that almost gets you killed and hotch has a few choice words about it

warnings: slight angst, happy endings, established relationship, you're in trouble, suggestive ending nothing crazy, hotch is a sucker and gives in way too easily to you

wc: 0.9k

You were an idiot. You were so utterly stupid, and you could feel the heat coursing through you, prickling at your fingertips and scorching your ears. You had braced yourself for this moment all day, but the sheer anger in Hotch's eyes was something no amount of bracing could shield you from.

You were quite accustomed to his eerily tranquil expression, often misleading, like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Today though, you were the focus of that discerning stare. 

"Do you understand that gravity of your actions today?"

You were fighting every urge to cry. Confrontation had always been your Achillies' heel, a fact that seemed laughable given your line of work.

You weren't talking about the type of confrontation that came with gunning down unsubs or running into burning buildings. No, it was the intimate kind, the kind that involved the disappointment in the eyes of those you cared about, those you respected, especially him.

So here you stood, tears simmering at the edges of your vision, your hands fidgeting and folding over themselves, knuckles whitening with the pressure.

Your lips parted, ready to speak, to defend yourself, but the rising lump in your throat held the words captive. Silence seemed like the better choice, so you offered a nod instead.

Hotch's hand briefly obscured his face, thumb and middle finger pressing against the bridge of his nose, as he cast a handful of documents onto his desk. They landed haphazardly, a chaotic reflection of the mistakes you made on this case.

"You could've gotten killed." Each word was forced out between clenched teeth. Never a good sign. "In fact, you were this close."

You felt his assessment was inflated, but now was definitely not the right time to point that out. You swallowed the rising retort and cautiously shifted a fraction closer to the desk, eyes flicking to the closed door behind you.

"I'm sorry, Aaron," you said softly, voice betraying the slightest fracture. "It won't happen again."

The sound of your strained syllables caused his head to jerk up. Contrarily, you recoiled, bowing your head into your chest as you feigned interested in the carpet's intricate threads. It was an interesting color. 

You failed to register him circling the desk. Not until the space between you was nearly nonexistent. The toe of his shoes just within your field of view. They were semi-brogue oxfords. His favorite.

The accumulated emotions of the week finally broke through, your shoulders trembling as you frantically brushed away the mortifying tears with your sleeve, only to feel his hands on your shoulders, drawing you into his chest.

"No, no," you protested, but the resistance in your voice was absent in your actions, as you found yourself easily giving into the warmth of his chest. "Don't feel bad for me just because I'm crying."

He said nothing, just a faint hum that filled the space, the vibrations sending ripples across your cheek. 

"You—, you were reprimanding me," you paused to sniffle, "and I deserve to be reprimanded. I know what I did was stupid."

"It was." His hand lay on your back, thumb circling lightly through your dress shirt, nearly burning through the fabric. "But I'm not going to continue to berate you when I feel as though you've learned your lesson."

"You weren't berating me," you mumble against his shirt.

"I made you cry."

When you looked up, your saw the concern etched on his face, brows pinched, a frown marring his handsome face. His hands cradled your face, thumbs gently clearing the tears as you breathed out a sigh.

"I think you know me well enough to know that it doesn't take much to make me cry."

This was true. You kept your emotions were always close to the surface, whether from happiness, sadness, or sheer frustration. 

Once you had sobbed over the unequal lengths of your shoelace bows. Morgan then proceeded to ask if you had ever been tested for autism.

"It doesn't make it any more disheartening to see," he said, shifting his hands to rest on your shoulders. He looked tired and it made you want to cry all over again.

"Would you feel that way if I was Reid?" You asked. It was a loaded question. One you peppered him with often.

You had strived to draw clear lines between your professional and personal lives, but moments like this made it very difficult. 

He didn't even bother you with a response, and he didn't need to. You knew the answer.

Another quick look over your shoulder, and you pressed a swift kiss to his lips. There was a moment of hesitation from him, the stickler for rules that he is, but soon his restraint gave way, his hand seeking you with a desperate intensity.

He drew back just enough to study your face, like he was trying to commit every detail to memory, like he was making sure you were really there.

"You really scared me today," he confessed, your foreheads resting together as your eyes locked.

"I know."

"Please don't do that again," he implored, pausing only to plant another quick kiss on your upper lip. "This old man's heart can only take so much."

You beamed at him with a cheeky smile. "I can't make any guarantees."

As you headed for the door, he sent a quick slap to your ass, drawing out a bubbly giggle that vibrated through the room.

That old man's heart definitely might give out after what you had planned for tonight.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[rueclfer]

shut up, my moms calling // touya todoroki pt two

a/n: req from one of yall who sent in multiple prompts a lil bit ago!!! hi anon i hope u see this <3 also not to be lazy but i'm gonna piggyback this req off of this touya fic of mine as a pt 2 to save myself the contextualizing.. so read that one too lmao.

also i def got ambitious and FAR from the req but i still hope you enjoyed heh..

"Scoot over, Touya, you're taking up the entire bed." You huff, actively elbowing him in the chest.

"You mean my bed?" He whines. "This is why I never want to share the bed with you. You're a blanket AND pillow hog, and I always get shoved all the way to the edge.

"Get your ass on the floor then." You shove him harder, in which he retaliates by grabbing your wrists.

"I always sleep on the fucking floor. Either you deal with sharing a bed, or you take the floor this time."

"So annoying." You mutter under your breath, wriggling out of his grasp and accepting your defeat.

It was nearly 2am and you two had not seen each other all day, which resulted in him being clingier than usual, of course. Touya would never admit it, but you had him all figured out. Quality time may be his top love language, but when that love-tank is low, he immediately defaults to physical touch, making it nearly impossible for you to get away from him if you really wanted to,

After much adjustments, you two silently settled on a position where your face was pressed against his chest, facing each other with your arms wrapped around one another and legs intertwined.

"Can you breathe?" He mutters against your forehead.

"Mmhm." You sigh against his chest in content. "You're so warm and you don't smell like shit for once."

"Stop talking." He hums, letting himself run his hand through your hair, lightly massaging your scalp.

You could melt at this moment. With your fingers drawing circles on his back paired with his own in your hair, you could feel yourself savoring this moment forever, locking it in your memories.

It had been a couple of weeks since you two exchanged your first kisses at the river, and not a single word about it had been uttered about it since. There was no way to bring it up to him again without feeling awkward, but it had plagued your mind everyday- multiple times a day. If you could slap yourself across the face every time you let the memory fluster you, you would. After all, your friendship continued as if nothing happened.

"Did Fuyumi tell you?" You whisper, looking up to meet his eyes.

"Tell me what?" His eyes remain closed.

"That Keigo kid asked me out the other day."

His eyes pop open and meet yours. All motion stops. He snakes his hand from your scalp to grab your shoulder and leans back to get a better view of your face.

"The fuck? Keigo? The other day?"

You nod your head in response.

"Why the hell did you tell Fuyumi before me?" His eyebrows furrow.

"I don't know! Keep your voice down." You hush. "It was a girl thing." You shrug.

"A girl thing..." He rolls his eyes. "And what did you tell him?"

You nervously fiddle with the back of his shirt, piling it in fistfuls.

"I said I would get back to him about it." You nervously chuckle. "Is that bad? It caught me off guard so I didn't know what to say."

He huffs out a chuckle before closing the space between you two again, moving his hand to your lower back and tracing a finger against the skin exposed by your shirt lifting

"Good. Tell him it's a no next time you see him."

"What? But what if it's a yes?"

"It's not. He's an asshole and an idiot." He yawns into your hairline, and rubs his cheek against your forehead.

You pinch the skin on his waist, bringing his attention back to you. "You don't get to decide that for me, dipshit."

"Never in a million years will he fucking deserve you, Y/N. Fuyumi probably told you the same thing." He returns the pinch, pulling back once again.

He was right. She did in fact tell you the same exact thing.

"Sounds like you're just jealous. What, one kiss and all of the sudden you're in love with me?" You tease. "Can't handle seeing me with another guy?"

You didn't know what you were doing, or how those words slipped off your tongue. You bit your cheeks in regret the moment you felt his body stiffen against yours.

"Jealous? As fucking if. I'm just being a good best friend. Do what you want, but if he breaks your heart then don't come back crying to me."

Just like that, he easily averted the mention of your kiss- which of course annoyed you.

"Fine. Let me actually text him right now. Maybe as my bestest friend ever, you can help me draft it." You feel around under your pillow for your phone.

You open your text chain with Keigo, hovering your thumbs over the keyboard. "Alright let's see." You began reading out loud as you type. "Hey Keigo, thought about it, and I think you're really sweet and so sexy and would love to-"

Before you could continue, Touya slaps the phone out of your hand, letting it hit the ground behind him with a harsh thud.

"Touya!" You scold after a loud gasp of shock.

You shove him hard onto his back, swinging a leg over him in order to reach down and attempt to retrieve your phone from the other side of the bed. You couldn't help but feel a bit of satisfaction from this obvious outburst of jealousy. Maybe in some sense, it validated the thread of tension hanging between you two that he had seemingly been ignoring.

"I knew it, you jealous fuckin-" You start before the bedroom door swings open, causing you to duct down under the covers.

"Touya? Y/N? Are you guys okay in there? I heard someth-" Rei begins, stopping the moment she sees the abandoned floor mattress next to the bed and your silhouette straddling Touya.

"Mom!" Touya whines, nearly shoving you off of him to jump out of bed. "Knock next time, please." He huffs as he bends down to pick up your phone, tossing it on the bed next to you.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry guys." She covers her mouth in shock.

Rei flips on the light switch and audibly releases a sigh of relief to confirm that you two were indeed still fully clothed.

"Do you guys....have... you know." She begins, stammering over her words. "Are you guys being safe? You know, I don't care what you do as long as you're both safe, okay? Also, please be a little quieter. I know it's a weekend, but everyone is sleeping."

Your eyes widen in horror after grasping onto what she was insinuating. You smash your face into the comforter in embarrassment.

"Rei, I promise you we weren't..." You pop your head up and wave your hands out in denial. "We were just talking and Touya just.." You motion to him. "Tell her, dumbass!" You throw a pillow at him.

"We are not having sex, mom. Y/N's just being stupid." He presses his lips together in a tight line. "But we will use protection if we do. Thanks."

"Oh my god, but we're not going to." You quickly quip in. "I promise we'll keep it down. So sorry for waking you."

You wanted to melt into the floor and disintegrate all together. You shove your face in your hands to hide your humiliation. Your body was hot all over and were suddenly sweating through your pajama shirt.

"Great! Alright then. We'll talk more in the morning." She nervously chuckles. "Goodnight guys, and please keep it down."

The moment the door clicks shut, you turn and slap his shoulder.

"What the fuck?!" You whisper-yell. "But we will use protection if we do? Are you insane? I can never sleep over again, that was so embarrassing." You cry.

"Chill out, it's fine." He laughs, picking up the thrown pillows off of the floor. "Embarrassing yeah, but would you be surprised if I told you that wasn't the first time she tried giving me the talk? About you specifically? At least you don't have to hear that shit."

"About me?!" You exclaim. "Shut the fuck up, no way?"

Touya settles back into bed on his back with his hands behind his head while you sit criss-crossed right next to him, cooling down from the embarrassment.

"Mmhm. Like twice already." He nods his head.

"Does she know that we're not dating or anything?" You cock an eyebrow. "She definitely knows that, right?"

"Well yeah, no shit." He shoots you a sideways glance. "But you don't have to be dating to...do all that."

"What does she say about me?"

"I don't know, of a whole bunch of bullshit I already know?" He begins tapping his fingers on your knee. "Like 'oh, Touya, Y/N's really sweet and we love them, but you have to treat them nice and I know teenage feelings are complicated, but if you really like them and want to ever do anything more, just have really good communication and practice safe sex. Always!"

"Rei has such a way with words." You say through gritted teeth, finally laying down besides him, both now looking up at the glow in the dark stars plastered on the ceiling.

"Yeah, so if you ever wanted to do another 'science experiment,' she got us condoms. It's in the first drawer on the nightstand next to you."

Your jaw drops and you slap a hand over to cover your gaping mouth. The heat returns to your face.

"She did not." You choke out, snapping your head towards him.

"She did." He chuckles. "I told her you literally just got your first kiss and didn't think you would need them anytime soon, but ya know she likes to be careful I guess."

"Wait, you told her we kissed?"

You scooted closer to Touya, now looking at him on your side while he remained on his back looking upwards.

"Mom-senses are kinda scary. When you left the next day, she said we were acting weird and grilled it outta me." He shrugs. "I was honest. Guess that's what triggered this safe sex bullshit."

"God dammit, Touya. So she 100% thinks we're together." You press your lips together.

"You act like that's the worst thing in the world." He shoots you a side glance. You said nothing.

Since that night, you often thought about the possibility of being "more than friends" with Touya, but you couldn't help but shake off the lingering thought that maybe the "science experiment" of a kiss was all that it was for him- nothing but an experiment. You weren't too sure what to do with the possibility that it was something more meaningful for you in that case.

"Anyways, she probably has her own thoughts and opinions, but I told her we're not."

"I see." You mutter. "What are your thoughts and opinions?"

"About... being together? Like that?" He glances over to you.

"Keigo asking me out, the kiss, and your mom thinking we're together and stuff, everything in between."

You watch his face carefully as he takes a second to think about his answers. You see the gears turning in his head, but not quite sure what would come out of his mouth.

"You first." He quickly spits out.

You deadpan. "You know what? Nevermind. Goodnight, dipshit." You turn around, facing away from him and pull the covers up to your chin.

"Okay okay okay, come back. I'll spill my heart out for you if that's what you really wanna hear at 2am right now." You could hear the annoyance in his voice, bringing a smile back to your face.

You cheerily turn back around to see him back on his side, facing you now.

"Perfect. Go on." You say, shoving your leg in between his own.

"So Keigo." He starts.

"Mmhm."

"Annoys the living shit out of me. Genuinely. And I'd hate to see you waste your time on that sorry motherfucker, but if you actually do like him, which I don't see how, do what you want. I come first though, don't forget it. Best friend priorities."

"See, I knew you were jealous." You smile. "I don't think I was considering it anyways, but nice to hear your big boy thoughts about it, you cutiepie."

"That's what I thought. Why the fuck would you need him when you have me?" He smirks.

You roll your eyes. "Okay, now tell me how you feel about your mom thinking we're bonking."

"Idiot." He chuckles. "I don't really give a fuck about what she thinks? We got free condoms- use them, don't use them, take some for Keigo if you ever wanted to do some charity work, I don't care, but she can think what she wants to think."

"What about your thoughts on us being together?" You mutter. "Like hypothetically just to humor her suspicions."

He stops and stares at you for a second, biting his bottom lip as he thinks.

"Uh. Let me get back to you about that one."

You wave it off. "Okay fine, so then the kiss."

"I want you to go first for that, and you can't get mad at me because the kiss was for you... mostly."

You hesitated for a moment, sighing in place of an answer. You weren't quite sure how much, if any, information to reveal about your true feelings about it all. "The kiss... was... definitely a kiss?" You breathe out awkwardly "It was nice. Really nice. And I enjoyed it."

"Okay. Ditto and ditto." He nods, motioning for you to continue.

"And I don't necessarily know what this means, but I think about it a lot. Like. A lot." You emphasize. "I don't know, maybe it means nothing."

"Okay...so you wanna do it again?"

It seemed like your brain short circuited for a moment.

"Hah?" You blink.

"Well, I think about it a lot too. And I also don't really know what that means or how to feel about it, so maybe... we can do it for science again...a 2.0?" You hear the hesitation in his voice.

"Like do it again to confirm our final thoughts?" You furrow your eyebrows.

"Yup."

"I see."

"Only if you want. I don't really care either way. Up to you." He quips. "I just.. am confused."

You roll your eyes. "Don't even try to act so nonchalant when you're the one asking for me to kiss your stupid ass again. You want me so bad." You joke to alleviate the thick fog of tension filling the room.

"Yeah, want you to shut the fuck up." He mutters in an annoyed tone. "Yes or no."

"Yes, fine." You squeak out, tensing when his hand meets your cheek. "I guess it would be good.. for science."

"Okay cool." He huffs. "Relax." He says under his breath, pulling you in closer to him. "We know what we're doing now, don't we?"

You reciprocate his movements, letting your hand rest against the side of his face, swiping your thumb back and forth on the skin under his eye.

"I'm nervous." You whisper, glancing back and forth between his lips and eyes.

The tip of your noses were grazing each other's, and lips just mere inches from meeting.

"Still? Well don't be. It's just me." He lightly rubs his nose against your own, eyes glued on your lips, and occasionally glances back up to meet your eyes. "And we've done this before, remember?"

He stares at you through a beat of silence and drags a thumb across your bottom lip. "Don't freak out."

He closes the gap between you two before you could respond, instantly melting under his touch.

Compared to your first kiss together, this one felt hotter, needier, and more desperate from the way he pulled you even closer to his body by the waist and locked your legs in between his own, as if you were in for the devouring.

You were tense, but feeling his hand tenderly cup your cheek made you feel a bit more secure, letting yourself lean deeper into the kiss.

Chills ran up your spine the moment his other hand met the exposed skin lower back, playing with the hem of your tee shirt.

"Is that okay?" He asks against your lips, letting his fingers start to crawl up under the fabric.

You nod your head in silence as your stomach erupts in flutters and flames, heightening every sensation of him exploring your bare skin.

"This is where you're the most ticklish." He smiles against your lips, moving his hand up the curve of your waist.

"This is where I kicked you on the swing set when we were 13." Rubbing the soft space between your shoulder blades, pecking your lips in between words. "Sorry, by the way."

"I forgive you." Your breath out a laugh before pressing your lips back to his.

"And you have a freckle right here." He grips the space where your spine meets your neck.

"How do you know that?"

"I'm observant."

Your own hand makes its way to the back of his head from his cheek. Your fingers become entangled with the hair on the nape of his neck, lightly twirling a lock between your pointer and thumb. You tug on the silvery locks, gifting you a throaty, hungry groan from him.

You snap back in shock, meeting his own set of wide eyes.

"Okay let's stop there." He coughs, snaking his arm back from under your shirt and turning on his back to dart his eyes away from your own.

You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your nervous laughter after you ground yourself back to reality.

"Shut up." He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

"Sorry. That good, huh?"

"No shit." He huffs, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Anyways, back to the point, horn-dog." He faces you.

You were lucky the only source of light was the haze of moonlight shining through the window on the other side of the room. If there was any more light, you were sure he would be able to see your embarrassingly flushed face.

"Right, the point." You cough. "So... thoughts?"

"You want me to be real with you?"

"Duh."

"I don't know who you've been practicing on for these past couple of weeks, but that was good. So much better than the first time- not saying you did a shit job, but yeah a lot better."

You blush at the half-assed compliment and bring your hand up to his forehead to flick him right between the eyes. "The other thoughts, dumbass. How do you feel?"

"I'm not sure if I want to say...yet." He continues, gauging your reaction.

"What?" You groan. "You said you'd be real with me."

"Well, what do you think I'll say? Or hoping?" He cocks an eyebrow.

That it feels real. That you want me as much as I want you. That this won't change anything between us. That this isn't a science experiment. That you're in love with me.

"I don't know." You shrug. "I guess I just want to know if I could ever be relationship material? Like after the kiss and knowing me, am I hopeless or what?"

"That's why you asked about us hypothetically being together?"

"Uh, yes?" You bit down on your bottom lip.

"Oh." He mumbled, shifting awkwardly.

A beat of silence passes while he thinks for a moment.

"I think that Keigo might be the smartest fucker out there right now. It pains me to see you act like a lovesick puppy for people who don't see how cool and great and how much of a catch you are and I'm sorry that Keigo just so happens to be someone that does." He sighs.

"Actually, scratch that." He continues. "I'm the smartest fucker out there. I've been known how fucking great you are." He laughs. "Yeah fuck Keigo. He's has good taste, but fuck him because I've been doing it first."

You chuckle a bit, your heart swelling at the turn-around of a compliment. "Yeah, but at least he likes me-like me. Enough to ask me out."

Touya goes quiet, lips pressed together in a tight line.

"Well to answer your question fully, I think my mom is onto something."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Like if I could've been better at communication, then we would've been together a long time ago."

"As in..." You start, waiting for him to continue as the air is sucked out of your lungs.

"As in, I like you-like you."

"You like me-like me... as in have feelings for me?" You draw out, staring at him in shock.

He nods in response.

"Since the first time we kissed?"

"Since the first time we met, actually."

Your mouth gapes open with no words coming out, digesting this sudden confession.

"You're fucking with me right now?" You whisper, clutching onto fistfuls of the comforter.

"I wish, but I'm not." He sighs, reaching a finger up to push a stray hair behind your ear. "I wasn't going to say anything, but you're such a dumbass who always talks down on yourself and it makes me sick. You have to know that there is at least one person in this world who would burn everything else down if it was your happiness on the line. I really fucking like you and I'd rather die than let that ruin our friendship, okay?"

In this moment, both of you were holding your own breaths, not quite sure if any sudden movement might burst this moment between you. Touya inherently knew it was time to tell you how he felt and that he couldn't go the rest of his life scaring away potential lovers while being terrified to claim the position himself. You, on the other hand, agreed that if anything did jeopardize your relationship with him, you wouldn't forgive yourself.

"I'm scared. I don't want to ruin our friendship either." You choke out with tears beginning to flood your eyes, causing his own to widen in panic.

"Hey whoa, what are you crying for?" He scoots in closer to you, holding you against his chest. "Seriously Y/N, I tell you I like you, and you start crying? God, just call me a piece of shit already." He chuckles, wrapping his arm around you.

"It's not that." You muffled into his now tear stained shirt. "It's that I like you too and I don't know what to do about it, but I don't want to ruin us or risk anything that will."

He takes a sharp intake of air, and continues to rub circles against your back.

"Well, I'll have you as much as you'll give me. Don't worry about it, okay? I love you- as my closest friend, favorite human being, my other half. All of it."

"What do we do?" You whisper, looking up at him.

"Uhh...sleep and talk about it tomorrow? Sit on it?"

"You think I can fucking sleep now?" You whine. "What's wrong with you?"

"You're cute." He smiles, moving his hand from your back to your cheek, rubbing away the dampness of the tears. "Alright then you tell me, what do we do? The ball is in your court."

"What would it look like if we started dating?" You asked.

"Exactly this? More kissing? Putting those condoms to use?"

You slap his shoulder. "Fucking idiot."

"Okay. Then, what if we don't start dating?" You huff, your face burning now.

"Same thing maybe? Less kissing? Condoms collecting dust?" He shrugs. "I guess I'll keep taking the floor for sleepovers?"

"You're not going to try to go out with anyone else?"

"I'll just wait for you."

You pout at the simple tenderness of his answer. You wanted to stay like this forever- close to him, the warmth of his body radiating into your own, your hands all over each other. You knew that it was possible too. To stay here.

"I think, maybe we can do it." You finalize. "Or try to, at least."

"Really?" He tips your chin upwards to meet his surprised eyes. "You really want to try?"

"I do. I'm scared, and I think you are too so if we put our fears together, we can't fuck this up, right?" You nervously joke. "For the sake of Rei too. Let's prove her right."

He leans down and presses a kiss on your forehead, simultaneously reaching over to your hand and locking his pinky in with yours, solidifying an unspoken promise to one another.

I love you. You're my best friend. You're my other half. We'll always try.

[citricacidprince]

Does relativity falls Ford still wipe Stans memory's? And if so what is the aftermath?

Yes!! Ford still does erase Stan’s memory, I even did a drawing of it right here cause thinking about it hurts me soooo bad hehe

As for the aftermath, I have sooooo many thoughts

Stan still gets his memory back like in the show, however due to being 13 I like to think he didn’t come out completely unscathed. After all your mind is still growing at that age so i bet you ain’t gonna get out of a mind wipe without any side effects.

His mind quickly remembers everything he WANTS to remember or anything he considered important, however things Stan would rather forget or didn’t think were very important took longer to come back to him, if at all.

Here’s a quick doodle I did of Stan post series not remembering who his dad was for like 3 days because I thought of that randomly and it made me feel ill :)

Stanley also begins to struggle in school, but like, 3 times worst before. Again, the memory wipe wasn’t very kind to him education wise, that stuff didn’t come back to him very easily. Stanford, who is easily the world most guilt ridden child, is dead set on making sure Stan can pass every grade with him, even if Stan has to cheat off his papers. Stan insists that Ford doesn’t have to go out of his way to help him but Ford won’t take no for an answer.

After Weirdmageddon the twins are attached at the hip and get really codependent on eachother and that doesn’t ease up as the years go on. Stanley feels more dumb the years go on but he feels happy that least he has his brother with him and Ford doesn’t treat him like an idiot. Stanford is constantly fretting over Stan, making sure he’s around if Stan has any memory lapses, or about to tackle someone like a rabid dog if they try fight Stan. It’s not the most healthy codependent relationship, but the two feel safe with each other and after all they’ve been through they can be a bit unhealthily codependent, as a treat <3

Filbrick still kicks Stanley out of the house when he’s 17, this time because he was furious at the fact Stanley wasn’t going to be able to graduate due to low grades and too many write ups. The main difference between the show here is that Stanford doesn’t even hesitate to walk out the door with Stanley, even when his dad tells him to go back inside. Ford almost lost his brother forever when he was a kid due to letting his father’s words bleed into his head, he refuses to ever let that happen again.

Stanley tearily calls Dipper and Mabel and tries to explain what happened before Stanford takes the phone and talks for Stan, explaining what happened and asking if the two could stay with them. Dipper and Mabel don’t even need to think about it, instantly fussing over the two as their voices overlap each others asking if the two are okay, if they need money, do they need to come get them, etc etc. Stanley insists that they’re fine and he’ll just take the 2-3 day drive to Oregon just like he did last summer when he got his permit.

The next morning their mother sneaks them into their old home and lets them take whatever they want and a wad of money she had hidden away, telling the two that she’s sorry but she was backed into a corner and didn’t know what else to do. Gave the boys a kiss on the cheek and ushered them out before their father caught on that they were there.

The drive is pretty quiet, the only disturbances being Ford asking Stan if he needs a break from driving to which Stan immediately turns down, and Stan guiltily saying that Ford didn’t have to leave with him to which Ford immediately shuts down that train of thought and says that where ever Stan goes, he’ll go.

When the two arrive at Gravity Falls Dipper and Mabel instantly squeeze the two to death, being nonstop worried ever since they got the call. Mabel helped the boys unpack while Dipper made a couple low threats into the phone and soon enough he had custody over the twins. (His blood boils when he thinks about how Filbrick didn’t even hesitate to give custody of Stanley, but fought about Stanford. Makes him happy that he never met the man in person.)

Stanley and Stanford finish off High School in Gravity Falls. Ford begins college courses online and Stan begins working at the Mystery Shack with Mabel and Anjelita, finding out he quite enjoyed theatrics and art, much to Mabel’s enjoyment.

I still want Stan and Ford to sail. Even if it’s just for a summer I want them to sail so bad. They deserve it.

I may put these boys through hell but I want them to be happy by the end of this that if they aren’t I think I would cry 💥

[hiraethwa]

purposefully

for ellie @nekozaki <3, hope you enjoy it! i took some liberations with your wishes (part of the hq x reader secret santa exchange by @lale-txt) pairing: miya atsumu x reader cw: hurt/comfort, cursing, atsumu is careless with your feelings, mutual pining, confession wc: 2k

miya atsumu, starting setter of the star-studded msby black jackals lineup, is gifted with looks and charms of a god, graced with sculpted features and a chiseled jawline, his body honed through years of training and experience. 

you don’t doubt for a second that his physique is what draws men and women to him alike, and to be fair, he could be so unbelievably charming when he wants to be. but when it comes to you, his dear roommate, he is so damn infuriating, driving you up the wall with every little thing he does. 

there’s always a clever quip from atsumu awaiting you, as if he could not bear not having the last word, or a teasing remark when you do anything nice for him, a “did you fall in love with me?” or “your loverboy would be jealous if he knows about this” that you have learnt to ignore, not giving him the satisfaction of your reaction. 

every time it irks you, hanging him out to dry for the next day or two, until your forgetfulness comes creeping in, and the vicious cycle repeats itself all over again. 

if you had a choice, you would not have moved in with him to start with, but you were in a rough financial situation, and osamu had offered you a solution—cheap rent and nice apartment with a catch—having his annoying twin brother as a housemate.

you had taken it, since it was miles better than moving to a rundown apartment with a shoddy heating system and questionable neighbors. 

atsumu had been nice and courteous in the beginning, helping osamu move you into the apartment and making sure you had everything you needed to feel at home, to the point where you were confused as to what osamu meant when he called his brother an insufferable idiot. 

it had gone swimmingly, with the two of you getting along almost scarily well as housemates, leaving osamu in disbelief when he shows up at your apartment unannounced to find you two huddled together in front of the tv watching horror films when you both hated them. 

he finds you making dinner in the kitchen the second time with atsumu obediently following your orders, and finds it hilarious that he is trying so hard to comply with your instructions when his twin is a hopeless mess when it comes to cooking. osamu bursts out laughing, and atsumu ending up chasing his twin who is dying of laughter in circles until you snap at them both.

the third time he stumbles into the apartment with extra food he ended up making, only to witness you argue with atsumu whether your coworker was flirting with you, an unreadable expression on his twin’s face. osamu just interrupts the argument with a knowing smile, peace offering held up in his hand.

that was one of the last times you hung out with atsumu, before something in him changed, as if a switch had flipped in him, taking the miya atsumu you knew and fell for away, leaving you with a cocky and provocative atsumu—the one that osamu had tried to warn you about.

it was a hell of an adjustment, getting used to this current atsumu who returned to serial dating and bringing his dates back to the apartment with its thin walls, awkwardly interacting with the ones who wander into the kitchen in his clothes in the morning, the sight of them torturing you more than the sounds at night did, reminding you of a time when it was you in his hoodies and sweaters.  

worst of all, atsumu did not seem like he felt bad in the slightest about bringing his various one night stands home, not failing to greet you every day with his charming lopsided smile and a ‘morning, sweetheart’, which had grown to be maddening.

there wasn’t any sign of things between you going south, the friendship you had formed with him going down the drain. you didn’t understand it, whatever made him change so drastically without any warning, and it drives you insane.

because miya atsumu is insufferable, and you just happen to be hopelessly in love with him.

because there was a time when you were close, with inside jokes that even osamu was not apart of, late night talks at 2am about your hopes and dreams and everything in between, not so secret glances thrown between you. a time when you believed for a moment that atsumu, despite his well known playboy persona, might have felt the same way towards you.

because in those short months when everything went right, you had truly seen miya atsumu, beheld him in all of his fame and glory, that facade of swagger and charm, and past it to see the sweet man underneath. 

but atsumu has always had a short temper, and the same holds true tonight, as the brawl unfolds before your eyes in slow motion. his arm unfurls, muscles rippling with force as his fist makes impact with the other man’s cheek, sending him backwards into the crowd. 

he grabs ahold of the man’s collar, barely restrained anger fueling his punches into his face, leaving it a bloody mess.

“miya!” the shrill scream that leaves your lips is unrecognizable, as your body moves on its own, struggling to hold his arm back with everything you have. osamu jumps into the fray, forcefully separating the two of them. 

this is bad. it looks bad, especially on atsumu’s part, as if he had assaulted the poor guy without reason. 

“get atsumu out of here, we will deal with the rest,” osamu tells you, and you could only nod, wide-eyed and in shock at the events that just unfolded. 

thankfully, atsumu does not protest as you tug him away from the crowd, escaping the club and returning to the comfort of your home. 

he barely registers the change in scenery from the dimly lit club to the bright city lights illuminating your way home, eyes focused on you, all determined and purposeful, your hand wrapped tight around his, as if you were afraid that you might lose him in the christmas crowd. 

he wonders if you knew the reason he had lost his temper back there, if you heard the unsavory words that the guy said about you.

the dull throb in his right knuckles goes ignored as he allows you to pull him along, into the train station, onto the line that brings you home, just a mere twenty minute ride from here. 

he does not speak, afraid of breaking the fragile silence, a temporary unspoken truce. 

the buildings fly by outside the train as you rest your head against the glass, staring out into the distance. the lump in his throat stays with him, involuntarily and fully aware of where your skin still touches his skin, the contact searing hot against his wrist. 

he swallows, wishing to run away and stay here with you forever, all at the same time. 

you drag him onwards, out of the train, out into the fresh air of the cool night, the skies stretching above you, reminiscent of the feeling within him that expands and expands with no end in sight, that spiraled out of his control, scaring him to death. 

love. it scares him. the relatively unfamiliar concept of caring about someone out of choice, unlike his brotherly love for osamu that was forged on the basis of familial ties, or his love towards his parents ever since he could remember.

you scare him—the worry in your dark eyes as you notice the split skin on his knuckles, scolding him for his rashness, pulling the first aid kit out. the tenderness in your hands as you carefully dab antiseptic ointment on the raw skin with a cotton ball, asking him if it hurts.

why, why do you bother?

the words die in his throat as he feels a prickling sensation behind his eyes. he shakes his head at your question, hoping to blink the feeling away, before the tears well up.

why do you still bother, after how awful he is to you?

but then you pull away, leaving him cold without your touch on his skin, shooting him a small smile and asking if he wanted a snack.

“why do you still bother? you don’t have to be nice to me just because we live together.”

you sigh, a loud exhale through your nostrils, seemingly frustrated with him. “it’s on purpose, you know.”

“what?” he does not understand.

“i’m loving you on purpose.” your hands pause on the cabinets, hesitating on the next words spilling out of your mouth, words that have long smoldered within you. “maybe one day i will stop falling in love with you, but my heart is stubbornly yours tonight.”

silence stretches in the space between you. your traitorous eyes flit over to the blonde whose mouth is agape, staring back at you in surprise and disbelief. 

you chuckle nervously. “what, cat got your smartass tongue? don’t tell me you didn’t see it coming, i thought i was being obvious enough despite my efforts to hide it”

atsumu still appears to be speechless so you forge on, emboldened by how good it feels to get this off your chest after holding it in for so long. 

“i know you don’t feel the same way, so don’t worry about it. i am working on getting over you, i just– i haven’t found a way yet, and my heart still clings on to the atsumu that i fell in love with in the beginning.”

the stubborn thing refuses to let go of the atsumu that you had the privilege of knowing.

“then don’t.” it stutters in your ribcage, confused by his words, his admittance. “because i am a stupid fool, and i–i love you too.”

“it’s not funny, if you are trying to mess with me.” you beg for your heart to still, for hope to delay its flight—you are not sure if you would be able to recover this time if he is fooling around. 

“i am not– fuck. i messed up. i have been a terrible person, sleeping around to try and get over my feelings for you but it’s no excuse.” atsumu kneels before you, sincerity shining in his warm chocolate eyes, offering you the truth, admitting his mistakes. “when i realized that i am in love with you, it scared the shit out of me. i have never felt such immense feelings towards another person in my life before, and so i ran away.”

“i fucked up and i am sorry, but if you will allow it, i will make it up to you, please. just one chance, i will never make you doubt my love for you ever again.”

his touch burns, sets you on fire, as you get on your knees before him, holding his hands tight, as your heart soars, despite the hurt that he inflicted on you unknowingly. “one chance, that’s all you get.”

his lips spread into a large grin as he tackles you to the ground in a hug, mischief dancing in his eyes as he leans down, lips ghosting over your skin. “does that mean i can finally do this–”

you beat him to the kiss, pulling on his neck and joining your lips before he could finish his sentence. you smile into it, feeling satisfaction from his surprise and even more when he breaks away in incredulity.

“that’s a yes, by the way.” you chortle from your rare successful attempt of shutting atsumu up. he only makes a noise of protest before he reels you back in for another kiss. 

[waywardcrow]

Dress.

Summary: After a mission where they crossed a line, Bucky decides to talk about what happened that night with you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader.

WC: Almost 1600.

TW: Avengers kind of things, talk about weapons, sad reader and sad Bucky, misunderstendings, agents talking shit because of jealousy, SMUT (do not interact if you're not +18) some kissing, dancing and boners lol, semi public make out, oral (f recieving) fingering, hint of other things but not so much because I'm so bad a t this, sorry, let me know if I missed something.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, please tell me if I make grammar mistakes.

You hated everything that night, the happy people who were eager to get drunk and forget about the ending year, the music too loud that didn’t let you think, the beautiful dress you bought for that very occasion specifically because you wanted to impress a certain super soldier in the New Year's Eve party but that was before last mission, before you messed it all up.

If you closed your eyes, you could see everything playing perfectly in your mind, how unprofessional you were, how much space Bucky put between you two in the quinjet, the tension that followed you the last days and the words of the agents who probably knew about what happen from him. It was a disaster and you wouldn’t escape from it, Tony would never let you go without an explanation if you requested a transfer to another area.

Distracted, drinking your problems you didn’t noticed Bucky’s gaze tearing apart the pretty gold dress you were wearing as if he could feel your skin against his like that night.

It was a simple mission, find the target, watch it until Valkyrie and Wanda could secured the evidence –an arsenal of Asgardian weapons- and then arrested everyone but your cover was necessary and thanks to your powers, the ability to manipulate brain’s perception to make your audience see what you want- make you perfect to blend with him in that shady club pretending to be just a couple looking for a good time.

Easier to say than done, Bucky fought his boner all night with you dancing too close to him, whispering things in his ear, sitting in his lap… sure you could feel how much he wanted to fuck you there in front of everybody, he indulged in his little fantasy when he feel your own arousal, he told himself it was for the mission when he took you to a semi empty corridor to kiss you dumb.

You tasted better than he imagined, like honey and salvation, Bucky was sure that if he kept kissing you he would find heaven.

“Are you ok, terminator? You look like you’re about to have an aneurysm” Sam pulled him out of his mind just in time before he got in trouble righ there in the middle of the party.

“I’m fine” he wasn’t and Sam let out a chuckle.

“Just go and talk to her, you can’t keep avoiding each other forever.”

You were avoiding him, Bucky just gave you space after you walked away from him when the mission was over, like he didn’t almost cum from having you exactly where he wanted you, with your perfect legs around him with just a thin layer of clothes between you.

“I said I’m fine” he said again, not looking at Sam when you made your way to the elevators, going after you.

It was better for you to leave early, too many drinks and you could end up crying or doing something you’ll regret, like talking to Bucky, who jumped in the elevator you called before the doors closed.

“Going to bed already?” he asked and you stared at him like an idiot, how could he look that good all the damn time? A black suit and white shirt shouldn’t make someone that hot, it was cheating “are you alright, honey?”

How have you missed his voice! A simple taste of him and you wanted more, you wanted him to touch you like that night, like he couldn’t get enough of you, like if time was against you both and every second he wasn’t making you feel all of him was a sacrilege.

“Why are you here, Bucky?”

Cornered, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, drawing his attention to your breasts, the memory of his lips pulling softly at your nipple made you want to close your legs to get some sort of friction, trying to calm the need for him.

Like he could read your mind, he licked his lips, wanting to pull your dress and bury himself in your chest but Bucky needed to have a conversation with you first.

“Are you going to avoid me forever, hon?” the super soldier lifted your chin to make you see him when you set your eyes in your heels “I can take a rejection, sweetheart but not you shutting me out completely.”

Bucky had made lots of friends with time but you were his first one, he didn’t want to lose you; you, in the other hand, were more confused than ever.

“What rejection? If anything, you’re the one who is not interested!” boldness coming from the alcohol made you talk before thinking about stopping “and don’t give me that look James Buchanan Barnes, you know perfectly what I’m talking about.”

The elevators door opened and you stormed out, going to you room, the audacity of that man!

“Can you explain to me what are you talking about?” Bucky took your hand and made you face him when you reached your door, all his cocky attitude was replaced by confusion.

“Please don’t pretend you didn’t tell Carla and Ashley what happen that night, I heard them talking the morning after in the gym” Above all the embarrassment there was hurt, you thought he could be trusted but Bucky proved you were an idiot “they were talking how you hated being assigned with me and to pretend to make out with me.”

Bucky’s heart hammered in his chest, what the hell were you talking about? He didn’t say anything, at all but you looked so sure he couldn’t speak.

“You made it very clear putting distance between us in the ride home but you didn’t have to tell them” your voice trembled, still you refused to cry, if that was the kind of man Bucky was, he didn’t deserve your tears.

“I swear I didn’t say anything, honey, I swear” he promised, making himself small to look at your eyes “I don’t know how they know, please believe me.”

You shake your head; you wanted to believe him but…

“I told no one, I really thought you were mad at me for taking advantage of the situation, that I misread it” he mumbled, desperate to prove you he was telling the truth, taking your face in his hands “I should have been more professional, more of a gentleman, ask you properly on a date, not acting like that, no matter how much I wanted it. That’s why I put space between us; Wanda and Val were looking at me like they would spray me with cold water if I breathed near you.”

Bucky wished you could read his mind to see he was honest but you still could, sensing his desperation matching yours.

“Do you really mean that?”

His heart broke at how unsure you sounded, he would spend every day of his life proving to you how much he meant it.

“I do, honey, you’re not only a friend to me, why do you think I requested to be with you in that mission?” with his arms around your waist, you put your hands in his chest to feel his heartbeat “I can’t be apart from you, I needed you close while I was gathering courage to confess my feelings but then I couldn’t hide it and…”

You interrupted him to kiss him, not giving a damn about anything but Bucky’s lips in yours. He opened the door and you took him with you to your room, tossing his jacket to the floor and taking your heels off.

“You should keep them on” he said between kisses, guiding you to your bed.

“Maybe next time” you promised, opening his dress shirt, he gave you a smirk while he took it off, like he couldn’t wait.

“This dress has to go, even if I love it.”

“I only bought it for you to take it off” you confessed, mesmerized by his hands undressing you before he placed you softly in your bed, earning a grin from him.

“Really? Well, you deserve a reward for thinking about me, honey”

Before you could ask, he was with his knees on the floor, ripping your panties to eat you out like he needed it to keep breathing.

It barely gave you time to let out a lewd moan that only encourage him more, putting your legs in his broad shoulders, nipping at your sensitive bud and teasing your entrance with his fingers.

It was real? It was the alcohol? You could think so if it wasn’t very improbable, your imagination couldn’t make this up, not something this good at least.

“Please” you begged and he shove one finger in you, then almost immediately another while licking you and going back to your clit, moaning at the taste of you, humping the mattress to get some relief, especially when you pulled at his short locks, making him groan.

“Bucky! Pleaseplease…” were the only words you could form but then he decided to replace his fingers with his tongue and you were gone, the orgasm hit you like a thousand waves and you could swear you fainted for a second, only coming back to yourself when you tasted your own arousal in his kiss.

Surprised to being this responsive with him, you kissed him back and he looked at you, fire blazing in his eyes.

“Come back to me, honey, we are just getting started” he promised against your lips and dear God, he was a man of his word. Hors later, the fireworks were loud enough outside but you both couldn’t care less, you finally have what you wanted: each other.

So this is my first time writing smut and I wanted to do it for New year's Eve, it was fun! Tell me what you think and happy new year!

Love, Lily.

[pearlcigs]

thinking a lot about soft! Vi 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 maybe even thinking about being babied 😵‍💫😵‍💫

⋆ softcore — tlou discord server

soft!vi who has a tough exterior but she always finds herself letting her walls down for you at the end of the day. when she's sighing from exhaustion, slipping into bed just ready to sink into oblivion. she just wants to roll over, ignore your curled up body that lay next to her. but she doesn't, she couldn't. no matter how tired she was, she needed you, needed your body melting into her like liquid in her hands. so she does just that, scoops you closer to her, her touch gentle in contrast to her rough and callused hands. she'll kiss the top of your head, all of your face. she'll whisper the sweetest things in your ear until she falls asleep, even her snores gentle.

soft!vi who you find humming as she does domestic tasks, like when she's cooking or cleaning. she's not even aware that she does it, solely focused on the task at hand. you think it's cute, never bringing it to her attention in hopes she'll never stop. once you found her going through the mail, humming an awfully familiar tune. you watched with admiration as vi sorted through the bills and the junk mail. "look, babe, they sent me a letter about my car's extended warranty." she laughs, pausing her humming to lift up the letter she was reading. "what idiots. they really think i'm gonna fall for this." she chuckles again, going back to her assortment of mail and her humming resumes. you just want to preserve her in a little box and keep her forever.

soft!vi who plays with your hair while you do some off hand task. not really doing any specific hairstyle, just moving strands over other strands and then letting them fall back into their place. you don't mind when she does, pretending you don't notice. it was the silent moments that you held deep in your heart, and so did vi. vi's hands would more often than not eventually make their way out of your hair, sliding down your body. she would grip your waist, or your hips, or massage your shoulders, or sometimes even slip her hands under your shirt to feel your warm skin. it wasn't even sexual, not when she would cup your breasts or kiss your neck as she did, she just loved having her hands on you in any way possible.

soft!vi who has a hard time just saying how she feels. she just can't get the words out to save her life. so you'll find little things around the house a day or two after an argument. flowers on the counter when you wake up. the dishes washed and dried. that shower curtain you've been meaning to install for months now? vi did it. it's sweet really, little things to let you know she still loved you or she's not mad at you because you both know she'll never say it out loud. or even when you two weren't arguing, you'll still find things like this. cookies she picked up for you on her way over. or when you caught her reading that book you were talking about earlier in the week. but your favorite is when you find little notes left on your fridge stuck by the (carefully picked, seriously it was no coincidence she picked those every single time) heart magnets. sometimes it was just a little drawing and sometimes it would be sweet words like 'miss you' or 'thinking of you'. it made your heart swell every time.

soft!vi who tries to make you breakfast in bed when she stays over at your apartment but you usually wake up to a smoke detector going off. it's sort of amazing at how she's such a good cook but such a bad one at the same time. like she'll burn the toast but make a perfect 5 star meal with bacon, eggs, and pancakes with a chocolate ganache. you didn't even know what a ganache was until you stumbled into the kitchen with worry only to be met with vi's crooked smile holding an entirely black piece of toast. "i was trying to make breakfast." and then she proceeded to explain what she made. "so you made all this, but... burnt the toast?" you weren't mad just... in awe. how do you burn toast? but you laugh anyway, kissing her nerves away.

soft!vi who babies you in the least condesceding way possible. she knows you like to be independent, as does anyone, but she can't help babying you every once in a while. it's simple things really, you didn't even notice at first. she'd grab things from you. "that looks heavy, let me do it." and would not even give you a chance to argue. she'd carry you anywhere, holding you in her arms like there wasn't a worry in the world. she'd wrap you in a bunch of blankets if you were napping on the couch, making sure you don't wake up cold. (you might wake up hot though.) she'd grab your cold hands in her warm ones to warm you up. it was just little things but vi always made sure you felt cared for.

[luveline]

Feeling a bit emotional and would really appreciate something short but sweet with Steve telling reader he's proud of them.

You’ve been through a lot. It’s not nice to hear about all the bad things that have happened to you, how people have been cruel, or how you’ve been alone, but Steve is grateful to get to know these things about you. He feels entrusted with something very important whenever you retell a bad memory; he can keep it, help carry it, take some of the weight from your burdened levy. 

He’s happy to do it, even in the moments where you forget all that stuff. 

“You did,” you insist, face pressed into the couch, a tired hand to his cheek as you stroke your smooth nail up and down his skin. It tickles badly. He never wants you to stop. “Steve, you knocked him on his ass. He had bruises.” 

“I don’t remember,” he lies. He smashed into Dustin so hard during a game of baseball the poor younger boy didn’t wanna play, and Steve was very sorry for the bruise he got to the coccyx afterward. 

“No, you wouldn’t remember. That’s convenient.” You’re just teasing, caressing his face, in a world of your own that Steve gets to be in too when he’s lucky. 

He thinks everything of you —you’re so sweet, so kind. Even now you’re lamenting that Dustin got bad bruises and tapping up to the corner of his eye with your fingertip, gentle, loving. He wonders how someone who’s experienced the hardship that you have would be able to just walk it off, but then he remembers you don’t walk it off. You carry it. You’re carrying it as you speak, and you're smiling at him. 

You’re Steve’s best friend, his great love, all the heartfelt junk. 

“I felt bad,” he says with a little laugh. “Does that make it better? I did feel bad. He hit the floor so hard.”

“Your laugh makes me feel like you don’t have enough remorse.” 

“I’m super remorseful.” 

Your fingertips slide into the hair just atop his ear, and you start the motions of a small scalp massage. 

“You’re–” Steve searches for the right word. Skirts around sincerity, and doubles back when nothing else conveys what he means. “You’re pretty amazing.” 

“And amazingly pretty,” you murmur, tucking hair behind his ear and pulling it out again as you scratch his scalp, a repetitive motion. 

“I don’t tell you enough.” He slips down in his seat to be the same height as you, catching an eyeful of your soft jaw, your lips, every inch of you kissable.  

“That’s not the sort of thing you have to tell me,” you say. 

There’s some awkwardness there. He really should tell you more. “I’m serious. You’re amazing, you’re so kind. Everything that’s happened to you, and you’re unstoppable.” 

He’s aggrandising, a little, to get through it without sounding like a too sincere idiot, but then he notices your expression shift at his tone and decides he can’t do that to you, because he’s not joking. He clears his throat. 

“I didn’t have much to do with it, but I’m proud of you for everything. You’re a good person, and you didn’t have to be.” He holds your elbow to pause your ministrations against his scalp, leaning in to kiss your cheek gently, though he stays there, and his nose draws a line down to your lips.

You breathe in without saying anything. 

“…You’re proud of me?” you ask under your breath. 

Maybe it’s weird, but he is. “I just think you could’ve turned into, like, a huge dick. But you’re you.” He puts all the weight on it. “You’re amazing.” 

Your hand falls to his arm. “You think so?” 

“Of course I do.” He steals a soft kiss before he puts his cheek beside yours, expecting your hug before you give it. 

You wrap him up like a pretzel. “Why are you saying this to me?” you ask worriedly. 

“I just want you to know. I’m always proud of you, and I don’t know if I ever said it out loud. I think it’s– it’s hard to get hurt so much and get up again, but you do.” 

“I guess you’d know about that,” you say, curling into him. Your hug is without stress nor worry, just a want to be close to him, your voice laden with warmth. “We keep getting beat up. Maybe that’s why we’re good together.” 

“And another hundred different reasons,” he says pointedly. 

“Thousand reasons,” you correct yourself. “Thanks for thinking about me, baby.” 

With the way you say baby, Steve will be thinking of you for the rest of his life. “Can I rub your back?” he asks. It’s your turn for some affection. 

“Oh, no, please don’t rub my back, you know I hate that,” you say, sarcastic mumbling as you stretch against his chest. 

Steve hooks you against him. “I know. I’m the worst.” 

[beomcharms]

bound ᥫ᭡ || pt.2||

pairings: beomgyu x f!reader

genre: arranged marriage au!, childhood friends to lovers, they’re really just idiots

warnings: angst, angst, angst, drinking, bad decisions, slightest bit of fluff, yearning beomgyu’s mean, oc is also mean soooo

w/c: 2.8k

read pt.1 here

a/n: i really didn’t expect pt. 2 to take so long but i fell into a writers slump in the middle of it so sorry for the delay☹️. i hope you all like this as much as you liked pt. 1 (please do)!!

taglist: @hyunelixbun @lickingan0rchid @j0qn @baekberrie @yoseicour @lovingbeomgyudayone @bambammtori @gyuhaze @definitelynother @tubatuupenguinkai @strawberryjaem @leehans-fish @filesforbeom @yeovnjin @sunooqvrlsx @t-102 @akitfffr @blossommi @soohashits @sulliefimmie @brrytears

fic below cut

You’re on your third drink of the night. Beomgyu is right by your side, as he has been the entire night. You’ve tried to shake off his company only for him to pop up right beside you whenever you thought you had succeeded.

“Can’t you atleast pretend like your enjoying this party ?” He mutters. You don’t even look his way, opting instead to plaster on the fakest smile you can muster.

“You look deranged” he tells you, alarmed by your change in expression and you force yourself not to laugh.

Beomgyu tries to take hold your hand which you immediately snatch away as you pretend to examine your nails. You hear him sigh.

Maybe it was a little too much, but he deserved it. The entire car ride had been silent. Beomgyu had picked you up from work, drove you home, complimented your attire for the night ( a short wine coloured dress that made him feel like he was being shot in the chest) and had tried to make conversation with you the entire night. You on the other had barely spared him a glance.

You had had to rush through your meeting and you weren’t even remotely satisfied with the work you had done today all because of Beomgyu and his insistence on attending the gala.

Although, you could see why this was important to him. Every major businessman in your state was in attendance and they all had bought someone with them. This would be a big night for him if he weren’t so busy trying to get you talk to him. You were too petty to let it slide.

You’re about to pick up your fourth drink from a passing by waiter when Beomgyu holds down your hand. You raise an eyebrow at him, shaking your hand free.

“I think you’ve had enough” he tells you. You roll your eyes, hard. Choosing to walk away from him. He follows behind you. This man, you think to yourself. You make your way onto a silent alcove, turning to face him.

“What is the matter with you” you ask him angrily.

“Finally, she speaks” he tells you, clutching his heart in pretence.

You give him a rough push but he holds onto your hands. “This is not a joke”

“Yes. It’s not. It’s one of the biggest nights of my life and yet here I am trying to make you talk with me” Beomgyu almost drawls out.

“Nobody is forcing you to do it. Go, talk with all your big investors. It’s not like I want to hang out with you here either” you huff out at him, trying to break his grip on you.

“I know. But, seeing your glower is making all of them scramble away from me” his tone a little playful.

“Fine. I’ll stay out here. Would that work for you?” You ask him tilting your head.

“That is not the point. Listen, I’m sorry. How many more times do I have to say it?” Beomgyu asks you, eyes pleading.

“Till you actually mean it. You can’t just expect me to adjust my schedule around yours anytime you wish to, that’s not how this works” you tell him, angry again.

“I know, but this was last minute and I didn’t have the time today morning. Stress got the better of me and I’m sorryyy sweetheart” He tells you drawing you closer to him.

“You never have the time. Never.” You tell him, trying to push him away.

“You knew what you were marrying into!” He tells you and it seems like he is on his last straw.

“Did I? I expected a little more respect Beomgyu, not this blatant disregard for my job and even myself” you tell him, voice rising a little.

“I respect you. This was just a one time thing. But you keep asking more and more from me” Beomgyu huffs out.

You stand there in shock. The audacity of this man. Beomgyu immediately knows he went too far.

“I didn’t mean that. You know I didn’t mean that” he tells you quickly.

Despite yourself, your eyes starts to well up. Wiping away your tears furiously, you turn away from him.

“Y/N… please” Beomgyu pleads.

“I’m going home” you tell him walking away.

-.-

The uber driver pays no mind to you as you sob in the car seat behind him. Beomgyu had not followed behind you. He had just let you walk away from him.

You didn’t even know what you were crying for anymore. Your ruined marriage was one thing but also your heart hurt. You had fallen for Beomgyu against the odds but it didn’t matter because he didn’t feel an ounce of the emotion you felt for him.

When the driver tells you you’ve reached home, your tears have dried up and only the numbness remains.

-.-

Beomgyu splashes water all over his face. Pushing back his hair, he gets the weird urge to laugh at himself. What was he doing? What is the point of any of this if you’re not beside him?

Mentally cursing himself for not following you back home, he rushes to get his car and leave the function.

Beomgyu will not let this marriage fail.

-.-

Pushing the door open, Beomgyu rushes into your shared bedroom. You’re not there.

Walking out he calls out your name but there is no response. Panic starts to set in inside him and he tries calling your phone, but there is no answer.

Beomgyu walks around the house and finally settles on the couch, clutching his head in his hands when he hears the front door open again. He jumps up and turns around and sees you, removing your coat to reveal the pajamas underneath, holding onto a rub of ice cream. Beomgyu bites down on his lip to avoid smiling.

“Can’t you atleast answer your phone?” He asks you.

You pay no mind to him, dropping the house keys on to the counter and walking over to the kitchen.

“Will you stop being so childish to me for once ?” Beomgyu is following close behind you. You pick up your spoon and turn around to see him towering over you.

You look up at him and Beomgyu holds the bridge of his nose to calm himself down. Being mad at you was not going to work, since he was clearly in the wrong. Beomgyu is not used to being in the wrong and hence he has a hard time coming up with apologies.

“I’m sorry” he starts

“Don’t wanna hear it” you tell him, picking up your ice cream tub and making your way onto the sofa.

Beomgyu sits beside you and you sigh.

“You’re not asking more from me, infact your not even asking for enough. I- I don’t know why I said all that. Clearly-“ Beomgyu is rambling on, while you struggle to open the ice cream lid.

Gently taking it from your hands he pries it open in one go and hands it back to you and continues on without missing a beat “- I was not in me right mind. Please, just please let’s talk this out”

You focus on your ice cream. It was your favourite flavour. Each spoonful helped a little more to calm you down.

“Are you listening to me?” Beomgyu asks you. He has not once looked away from you, despite your continued ignorance.

“I have nothing to say to you” you mumble with your mouth full, looking around for your t.v remote.

“Will you atleast look at me” Beomgyu asks you turning your chin towards him.

Your roll your eyes, pushing away his hand.

“Please sweetheart” Beomgyu pleads and you look away. You couldn’t handle his puppy eyes. Not when you were kids and definitely not now.

“I have nothing to say to you. And what is the point of even trying anymore when you keep doing what you wish to do and keep treating me like shit?” You ask him and you hate how sad and desperate you sound.

“Just- I need time” he tells you, rushing, trying to find the right words.

“Just leave me alone, Beomgyu.” You sigh.

Beomgyu feels defeated. He hates how there seems to be nothing he can do to make you understand him. The distance between the both of you continues to grow and he is out of attempts to try and find a way to fill it up.

-.-

You sleep on different beds for the first time that night. Beomgyu had not put up a fight when you carried out your stuff to the guest bedroom. He had simply watched you. You did not have another fight left in you.

Sleep refused to acknowledge you in any way. You tossed and turned all night, finally falling asleep in the early hours of the morning. Briefly, you wondered how Beomgyu was doing, before reminding yourself that you shouldn’t care for him.

-.-

Days pass in the same manner. You hardly see Beomgyu. He left early and came home late. In the few glimpses you got of him, rushing out the door, he looked rough. Sadness weighed heavy in your heart and you spend most nights crying yourself to sleep.

Beomgyu, felt like a shell of himself. He didn’t have the motivation to do anything and to avoid having to acknowledge the mess that was his marriage, he buried himself in work. He was sharper and meaner with everything and everyone around him, like a shard from a broken vase.

Unbeknownst to you, he would sometimes slowly sneak into your room, when he was sure you were sleeping. From your swollen eyes it was evident that he was hurting you. He just didn’t know how to fix it. Hours would pass by where he concocted plans to get you to talk to him but they all left him empty. He had hurt you, was continuing to hurt you.

-.-

You were in your usual hurry to get to school. Rushing about your room you pick up your bag and apply your perfume and rush out, nearly knocking Beomgyu onto the ground.

“Fuck- I’m sorry” you mumble, steadying yourself against him. He looks down at you, and it feels as though aeons had passed since you had the warmth of his brown irises on you.

“Careful” he tells you quietly, his hand still on your elbow and the intensity of his gaze makes you look away. Pushing away from him, you nod your head making your way to the kitchen to pick up your lunch.

Putting away the box in your bag, you turn around and Beomgyu is staying at the same place, looking at you. Your raise an eyebrow at him questioningly, walking towards the coat hanger.

“I-“ Beomgyu starts and you notice how he is not wearing his work clothes.

“Don’t you have work today?” You ask him.

“Yeah- I took a half day” He answers. He is fidgeting with his hands and it makes you nervous too. Since, when did it become so awkward to talk to him?

The shrill of the calling bell, turns your attention away from him. Who would be visiting you at this hour, you wonder and start towards the door when Beomgyu overtakes you and opens it.

“Darling” his mother is immediately on him. You stand rooted to your spot. Why was his mom here? Why didn’t he tell you??

“Ah- Y/N’s still here!” His mother rushes to hug you and you’re nearly strangled in her hold. You look at Beomgyu, who shrugs his shoulders at you, helplessly.

“Beomie told me you couldn’t take a day off today, since you were busy with the new term” his mother let’s go off you and grasps your hands.

“He- did?” You ask her looking over at him.

“Yes- it’s so difficult to get you both together these days. Are you alright, sweetheart?” The concern in his mothers voice, doubles the guilt in your heart. You texted her often, but ever since the fight between you and Beomgyu you had not called her. But it seemed as though Beomgyu still had your back, making up excuses for you.

“I- I’m fine Aunty” you tell her, smiling and she warmly smiles back at you.

“Let me not keep you waiting. I was just visiting and I thought I’d catch you if I came a little early” she tells you, tucking your hair behind your ears. “Beomgyu will be dropping you right?”

“No- I- I’ll take the b-“ you start

“Yes” he cuts across you. His mother stands there looking at you and you give her an awkward smile.

“Really it’s no bother Gyu, I’ll take the bus” you tell him pointedly.

“Ah- let him drop you sweetheart. I don’t mind waiting” his mom tells you.

“Yeah- let me drop you” Beomgyu tells you.

“Okay then” you tell him. “Take care Aunty” you tell his mom, hugging her again.

“Oh I am! The medicines you send are doing wonders on my joints” she laughs, letting you go.

“Be sure to take them consistently” you tell her.

“Mmhmm” she answers smiling at you. Beomgyu hands over your coat to you and you take it, not knowing how to treat him.

“Wait” his mother calls out and you both turn around. “Just a quick picture” she tells you holding up her phone.

“Momm… she will be late for work” Beomgyu whines.

“It’s just a picture darling, quick now” she tells you and you stand next to Beomgyu.

“Put your arm around her now Beom” his mother chastens him and Beomgyu let’s out a cough before awkwardly placing his arm around your shoulder.

“Seriously, are you guys in a fight or something?” His mother asks, lowering her phone and looking at you with concern.

“No, no” you tell her immediately, pulling Beomgyu’s hand from your shoulder and placing it on your waist. You stand closer to him leaning your head against his shoulder.

You can feel the heat of his gaze, but you refuse to look at him. You hear the shutter of the camera and you nearly miss the way his hand squeezes your side.

“Lovely” his mom tells you looking at the picture.

“I really need to leave now Aunty” you tell her apologetically.

“Yes, yes- go. Have a good day sweetheart” she tells you.

Beomgyu’s hand is still around you and you look over at him.

“Well?” You ask questioningly.

“Yes-uh- bye Mom” he calls out hurriedly, snatching his hand away from you and rushing to the door.

-.-

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are” Beomgyu breaks the silence of your car ride. You’re about to reach the school. The entire ride was filled with tension and you couldn’t wait to get out of it.

“What” you ask him taking a gulp of water from your bottle.

“Don’t act as if you didn’t just want my arm around you” he tells you, smirking.

“What?” You ask nearly choking. “Do you even hear yourself?” You ask.

“I see right through your plan, Mrs. Choi” he says laughter evident in his voice.

You place your hand on his forehead and Beomgyu nearly swerves the car into the median.

“Your temperature is normal… maybe you should see a doctor. It could be internal brain damage” you tell him thoughtfully.

“Ha-ha-ha” Beomgyu mutters. Surely, he cannot afford to be so affected by a little of your touch.

You reach the school sooner than expected. Time held no meaning when you were with Beomgyu. You almost regret going to school today. Beomgyu stops the car at the front gate and you look over at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me your mom was coming? I could’ve taken a leave too” you tell him, eyes downcast.

“I didn’t wish to bother you. Besides it’s not right to demand you stay home just because my mom’s coming” Beomgyu tells you.

The sadness in his voice grips your heart and you feel helpless. You wanted to fix things. But by each passing day it felt as though Beomgyu was slipping further away from you.

You sigh quietly to yourself.

“Well, I guess I’ll get going then” you tell him, unlocking your seatbelt.

“Wait sweet- Y/N” Beomgyu starts and you look at him expectantly. “I-

The school bell rings distantly and Beomgyu stops.

“See you at home” he tells you, clearing his voice.

You nod your head at him before getting off the car.

“And by the way, don’t think I didn’t notice the way I literally had to pry your hands off of me” you tell him.

“YAH-“ you close the door cutting him off, giggling to yourself.

Maybe, just maybe, things might work out.

🎧 end of pt.2!!!! please please please interact with this post, it helps me out a ton🩷 currently working on pt.3 (it’s all there in my head ) xoxo 🎧

[rileyslibrary]

may i request ghost seeing reader making something (maybe a get well soon card or a papercrane or sth idk) and then someone accidentally ruining it? like how would he react? what would he do next etc

doesnt have to be a fic if you decide to write it, could be bulletpoints or something ez🥰🥰

thankyouu🥺✨

I love getting requests like this one; thank you @lululandd! Also, there’s a very important A/N at the end, so meet me there. Buh-bye for now, enjoy! 🍫

———————————————————————

Price got hurt. It was a terrible hit, and everything happened so fast. You were there, at the crime scene, as everything unfolded right before your very eyes.

His injury, however, wasn’t the result of a mission gone wrong; no. Some idiot forgot to put the warning sign on the wet floor, which caused the poor man to fly into the air and crash to the floor.

The good news is that he's recovering quickly and is now being held at the medical centre until he's ready to be released.

The bad news? Without a captain to guide the team, there was no mission to undergo. And, without a mission, none of you had a clear direction or purpose, leaving you all floating in a sea of mundane tasks and boredom. So, for the past few days, you and the rest of the team have been doing mind-numbing chores ranging from scrubbing the kitchen’s greasy ovens to meticulously organising the cluttered armoury.

While Soap and Gaz are on patrol, you and Ghost are taking a break in the mess hall. He’s cleaning his gun by disassembling it and wiping all its metal components with an alcohol solution. You sit across from him, working on a different kind of project: making a get-well-soon card for Price.

Last night, you snuck into HR’s office and “borrowed” some supplies to help you with your craft: a piece of white paper from the printer, some markers, and a pot of blue-coloured glitter dust you found in one of the drawers. It was a mystery as to why the military’s Human Resources department possessed glitter. Still, it will undoubtedly prove helpful with your "crafty" mission.

You also went to the doctor and requested some “normal-sized” bandages to help with your secret project. The doctor leaned back in his chair, raising one eyebrow. He asked why you wanted the bandages, but you were so vague with your answer that he became suspicious of you. So he pulled his desk’s drawer and gave you one fucking bandage—just one. So you had to make it count.

You folded the white paper in half and carefully attached the bandage horizontally to create the outline of Price’s body. The only thing left is to paint his face on the bandage and draw a hospital bed underneath it. That, and getting the team together to write some kind messages on the card.

Ghost looks at you every now and then, mildly intrigued by your artistic creation. You catch his eye, and he quickly turns away.

“Do you like it?” you ask.

“It’s a bandage on a piece of paper,” he says, shrugging. “What is there to like?”

“It’s not just a bandage on a piece of paper,” you explain and gesture to the figure on the paper; “it’s supposed to be Price lying in his hospital bed, recovering.”

His response comes in the form of a lengthy, dismissive snort. He points to the glitter pot in front of you.

“Why the glitter?” he asks.

“It’s for the bedsheets,” you murmur.

“I didn’t know they transferred Price to a love hotel,” he mocks, turning away from you to resume his task. You roll your eyes in response and shift your focus to your craft. This is the same guy you’ll later ask to write a few pleasant words on that card. Fun stuff.

You can still feel his gaze on you as you work on the captain’s card. Despite his best efforts to appear apathetic, you notice him leaning in slightly, pretending to stretch or yawn while sneaking peeks at your project. His body language betrays him; even though he tries to be tough and keep up the act, you know that deep down, he’s a huge softie who can’t resist a heartfelt gesture. He coughs, pretending to clear his throat, and you stifle a laugh at his failed attempt to seem disinterested. You roll your eyes and slam your hand on the table.

“What’s your problem, Lieutenant?” you ask with an amused smirk on your lips.

“I just don’t understand,” he says as he wipes the gun barrel. “Why bother making a card from scratch when you can buy one?”

“Because it’s more meaningful,” you explain. “When you take the time to create something yourself, it shows that you care. It’s not a generic card; it’s a heartfelt statement.”

He lets out a sarcastic scoff.

“I’d do the same thing for you, you know.” You whisper.

He puts down his rifle and looks at you. “You would?” He asks, surprised.

You nod. “Of course, I would,” you reply, “but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that; I’d rather you stay injury-free.”

He chuckles and turns to look at the mess hall doors as they open, with Soap and Gaz carrying a large box and approaching you both.

They slam the box on the table without assessing its weight, causing the entire surface to shake. The impact knocks Ghost’s alcohol solution over, spilling it all over the table and, even worse, all over your hand-made card.

Your heart sinks to your stomach as you helplessly watch the liquid soak into the card, smudging the ink and warping the paper. Ghost throws the gun on the table and grabs your card as quickly as he can. Soap curses under his breath, and Gaz grabs some paper towels from another table, attempting to rescue anything he can. But it’s too late; the damage is done.

You look up to see Ghost standing there, pinching your card between his fingers.

He is livid.

“What the fucking fucking shit, sergeants?” He murmurs.

“Apologies,” Soap replies, utterly unaware of what he’s done, “Hope we didn’t ruin anything important.”

“This,” Ghost says quietly as he raises the destroyed card, “was a get-well-soon card for Price.”

“Sorry guys,” Gaz apologises as he wipes the table off. “Soap and I will go buy another o-”

“SHE MADE THIS!” Ghost yells at him, “SHE MADE THIS WITH HER OWN HANDS!”

Soap furrows his brow. “Why would you make a card when you can buy one?” he wonders.

Ghost slaps his thigh, muttering profanities under his breath. You try to convince him that it’s alright and that a store-bought card will do just fine, but he cuts you off and looks at the sergeants.

“Why make a card instead of just buying one?” He asks and brings the tips of his fingers together, waving his hand back and forth in front of the two sergeants. “Because a hand-made card is more meaningful and personal than buying a generic one, you dimwits,” he lectures them and turns to you.

“Can you make another one, Y/N?” He asks softly.

You lower your head to the ground. “I’m afraid I’ve run out of banda-”

“SHE DOESN’T HAVE ANY MORE BANDAGES, YA PRICKS!”

“And I had only one sheet of paper.”

“AND SHE HAD ONL-” he pauses. “How come you only got one sheet?” He asks, and you explain that you weren’t supposed to be on the HR premises, so you had to act quickly. Ghost lets out a deep sigh as he looks at the ruined card.

“Sergeant Mactavish, go get a few sheets of paper from my office,” he instructs before turning to Gaz. “Sergeant Garrick,” he orders, “go to the medic; tell him that your new boots have caused blisters on your feet, and you need a few bandages to patch them up.”

They both nod and leave to go fetch your supplies. Ghost turns to you and crumbles your—already—destroyed card.

“Don’t be sad, kid,” he comforts you, “I’ll help you make another one.”

“Really, Lt.?” You ask, grinning.

“Damn right I will,” he says as he takes off his gloves, “and it’ll have bandages and bedsheets full of fucking glitter and everything nice on it.”

———————————————————————

A/N: The card was inspired by this tutorial from Jennie Moraitis; all credit goes to her. Here’s a picture of the card from her website!

[darksturnz]

SKETCHES & SPACE

CONTENTS:・BLURB plot with tension ・artist!chris ・star!reader・marijuana usage・slight fluff WC: 3.8k

You didn't plan on ending your night sitting cross-legged on Chris's bed, the hum of the air conditioner mixing with the low music playing from his speaker. The trailer was unusually still-Lila was at a friend's house, and Chris's mom was at the hospital for overnight tests. For once, the place didn't carry its usual noise or chaos, and you weren't sure if that made it better or worse.

Chris hadn't invited you over, but he hadn't complained when you barged in earlier, tossing your bag onto the couch and wandering straight to his room like you lived there. Now, the two of you sat in companionable silence, passing a joint back and forth, the smoke curling lazily toward the ceiling.

The quiet was almost comfortable, but the haze in your head made everything feel slightly heavier. You were mid-exhale when Chris, sitting at the edge of the bed, broke the silence.

“Take your shorts off,” he said flatly, as though he were asking you to hand him the remote.

You choked on the smoke, coughing violently as your brain scrambled to process what he’d just said. “Excuse me?” you croaked, your voice higher than you’d like.

He glanced over his shoulder at you, completely unfazed. “Your shorts? Take them off.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs, and you stared at him, trying to decide if you were having some kind of THC-induced hallucination. “…why?” you managed, feeling your face heat.

Chris let out an annoyed sigh, turning fully to face you now. “ star just do it.”

“You can’t just command me to do things idiot,” you muttered, but still you hesitantly stood up, your hands fumbling with the waistband of your shorts. Your mind raced with every possible explanation for what was happening, none of them making you feel any less like you were about to pass out.

Once you’d awkwardly stepped out of your shorts, Chris grabbed a Sharpie from the cluttered table beside his bed and motioned for you to sit back down. You did, stiffly, crossing your arms over your knees.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice sharp with suspicion.

“Hold still,” he muttered, leaning down and gripping your thigh to steady it. The Sharpie’s tip touched your skin, and you froze, realization dawning.

“You’re drawing on me?”

“Yeah,” he said bluntly, not looking up. “What did you think I was doing?”

You didn’t answer, too busy dying inside. Your heart was still racing, but now it was out of sheer embarrassment.

Chris smirked faintly, clearly catching on but mercifully not saying anything about it. He focused on the lines he was sketching, his hand steady as the dragon took shape across your thigh. The black ink stood out starkly against your skin, the design intricate and fluid.

You glanced down, watching as his hand moved, his fingers brushing against your leg every now and then. “You didn’t even ask,” you said, trying to sound annoyed but failing.

“You didn’t exactly stop me,” he shot back, his tone dry.

You huffed but stayed still, your nerves slowly replaced by a strange, quiet tension. The Sharpie glided over your skin, his grip firm but not rough. The way he was focused—so deliberate, so precise—made the air between you feel heavier somehow.

Minutes passed in silence, the music continuing to play softly in the background. Chris leaned back to inspect his work, his fingers lingering on your thigh for just a second longer than necessary.

“Not bad?” he questioned, finally meeting your eyes.

You glanced down at the dragon etched across your skin, the lines intricate and wild. “Well You missed a spot,” you said, pointing at the tail.

Chris rolled his eyes, leaning forward again. “If you’re seriously gonna criticize, do it after I’m finished.” His voice was sharp, but the corners of his mouth twitched, and you swore you saw the faintest hint of a smile.

As Chris continued to add the smoke curling from the dragon's mouth, the Sharpie gliding across the back of your thigh, you shifted slightly, trying to stretch your leg. The movement caused his hand to slip, the line wavering.

"Stop moving," he muttered, his tone annoyed but calm.

"I'm not moving," you shot back, though you absolutely were. Sitting still this long was starting to make your muscles ache, and the growing awareness of his hand so close to you wasn't helping.

"You are," Chris said sharply, lifting the pen to fix the line. "If you don't stay still, this is gonna look like shit."

You huffed, trying to lock your leg into place, but after another minute, you shifted again, this time without meaning to.

Chris cursed under his breath, setting the Sharpie down on the bed. "Alright, always s’fuckin difficult," he said bluntly, his hands gripping your hips before you could react.

"Wait-what are you-"

Before you could finish your protest, he pulled you into his lap, settling you sideways across his legs. The suddenness of the movement left you stunned, your heart thudding in your chest.

"Stay still," he said firmly, adjusting you so your thigh was in the perfect position for him to finish the design. His voice was steady, almost cold, but there was an edge to it that sent heat rushing to your face.

You opened your mouth to argue, but his hand was already back on your leg, holding it steady as the Sharpie resumed its path. His grip was firm, his fingers digging just enough into your skin to keep you from moving again.

"Comfortable?" you asked dryly, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

"Very," he muttered, not looking up.

The air felt heavier now, and you were acutely aware of how close you were-your knee brushing his side, his arm nearly circling your waist as he leaned in to add the final details.You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes on the wall as the minutes dragged on.

Every now and then, his thumb would brush against your skin as he adjusted his hold, each touch sending a jolt of something through you that you refused to acknowledge. The Sharpie scratched softly against your thigh, the design coming to life under his hand.

"Is this better?" you asked, your voice quieter than you'd intended.

Chris didn't answer immediately. He sat back slightly, inspecting his work, his hand still resting on your leg. "Yeah," he said finally, his voice low. "Much better."

You tried to ignore the heat spreading across your face as he leaned closer again, adding the last curl of smoke to the design. The silence between you was thick, the music in the background barely registering over the sound of your heartbeat.

"Seriously, don’t move on this part," he said again, his voice softer now but still carrying that edge.

As if you could.

The air crackled with tension the longer you found yourself sitting on Chris's lap, your heart hammering in your chest as he continued to draw on your thigh. It was an inexplicably intimate moment, one that had you biting your lip to keep from making a sound.

"Are you almost done?" you managed to mutter, your throat dry.

Chris didn't look up, his focus still on the design he was creating. "Almost."

His hand slid further up your thigh, his callused fingers brushing against your skin, and you shivered involuntarily. You felt exposed, sitting on his lap like this, the silence between you filled with a strange, electric energy.

Without warning, Chris's hand shifted, the pad of his thumb pressing against a particularly sensitive spot on your inner thigh. You let out a small gasp, your body tensing as the sensation shot through you. Chris paused for a split second, his thumb still pressed against your skin.

"Sorry," he muttered, his voice low. Though he didn't move his hand back, and something told you that he wasn't sorry at all. You could feel his breath against your skin, his proximity making your head spin.

The tension between you was unbearable now, the silence heavy with something unspoken. Your body was on fire, your mind racing with possibilities that you were too afraid to acknowledge. And through it all, Chris continued to draw, the sharpie rubbing against your skin, his hand holding you in place with an almost possessiveness.

Chris's hand hadn't moved from your thigh, and you were suddenly very conscious of the fact that you were still sitting on his lap. The heat of his body radiated through you, adding to the already heady mix of emotions swirling within you, and you were acutely aware of every point where he was touching you—his hand on your leg, his arm around your waist, his breath warm against your neck.

The moment stretched on, the charged air around you refusing to dissipate. You couldn't bring yourself to move, your heart thudding so loudly you were sure Chris could hear it. Your mind was a whirl of confusion and desire, your body screaming for you to do something, anything, to break the tension. Chris set the Sharpie down on the bed and leaned back, his hand still resting on your thigh as he inspected his work. “There,” he said finally, his voice steady but quieter than usual. “All done.”

You glanced down at the dragon now coiled across your skin, its tail curling around your thigh in intricate, fluid lines. The detail was incredible—too good for something drawn with a Sharpie on a whim.

“Yeah, not bad,” you said, trying to sound casual despite the faint heat rising to your face.

Chris didn’t respond right away, his eyes lingering on the design before his gaze flicked up, and he seemed to realize the position the two of you were in. His body stiffened slightly, his jaw tightening as the weight of the moment hung between you.

Without a word, he shifted his grip on your leg, carefully moving it aside as he nudged you off his lap. The abruptness of it made you feel unsteady for a second, but you didn’t say anything, your own thoughts spiraling too fast to form words.

Chris stood quickly, running a hand through his hair as he avoided looking at you. “be right back,” he muttered, his voice lower than usual.

Before you could respond, he crossed the room and grabbed his sketchpad from the cluttered desk near the window. His movements were quick, almost hurried, like he needed something—anything—to focus on other than what had just happened.

You stayed where you were, still sitting on the bed with your legs crossed, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of the dragon. The air in the room felt heavier now, the faint hum of the air conditioner and music filling the silence like static.

Chris flipped open the sketchpad and sat down at the desk, his back to you. He picked up a pencil and started sketching, his hand moving rapidly across the page as though it would help drown out whatever had just passed between you.

You didn’t bring it up. Maybe it was the haze in your head, or maybe it was the fact that your own heart was still racing in a way you didn’t quite understand. Either way, you stayed quiet, glancing at the dragon one more time before leaning back against the pillows, letting the music and hum of the trailer fill the space between you. You leaned back on Chris’s bed, still tracing the edges of the dragon on your thigh, the quiet of the trailer settling over you again. Your fingers brushed absently over the lines as your thoughts wandered, and before you knew it, you were speaking without really thinking.

“You ever wonder what it’s like to be out there?” you asked, your voice breaking the comfortable silence.

Chris glanced up briefly from his sketchpad, his pencil pausing mid-line. “Out where?”

“Space,” you said, gesturing vaguely toward the ceiling as though it were a window to the stars. “Like, just floating out there with no noise, no gravity, no bullshit. Just… nothing.”

He went back to his sketch, the faint scratch of pencil on paper filling the gap before he responded. “Sounds peaceful.”

“It’s not, though,” you continued, your fingers still idly brushing over the dragon. “It’s terrifying. Like, you’re literally one wrong move away from being sucked into a vacuum where no one can hear you scream.”

Chris’s lips quirked, a soft huff of amusement escaping him. “Very optimistic of you.”

You tilted your head to look at him, watching the way his brow furrowed slightly as he worked on whatever he was sketching. “But it’s kind of beautiful too, you know? Like, everything out there is just… endless. Infinite. No rules, no boundaries, no limits. It’s pure chaos, but it works somehow.”

Chris didn’t look up this time, but his voice was soft. “Sounds like you.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“Chaos that works,” he said simply, not elaborating as his pencil scratched another line.

Your face warmed slightly, and you turned your gaze back to the ceiling, pretending to ignore the way your chest tightened at his words. “Well, I’m not infinite,” you muttered.

“Thank God,” Chris murmured, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at his mouth.

You huffed a giggle, shaking your head. “Asshole.”

His response was a noncommittal grunt, but the way he angled his head slightly toward you let you know he was still listening.

“You know,” you said after a beat, “there’s this theory that the universe is expanding faster than we thought. Like, galaxies are speeding away from each other, getting farther and farther apart. It’s wild.”

Chris’s pencil paused for a fraction of a second before continuing. “Why’s that wild?”

“Because it’s like everything’s trying to escape everything else,” you said, your voice quieter now. “But at the same time, it’s all connected, you know? Like, even the emptiest parts of space are still full of something. Energy, dark matter, whatever.”

“Sounds crowded,” Chris said, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly as he kept his eyes on the page.

You smiled faintly, your gaze still on the ceiling. “It is. But it’s also lonely.”

The pencil stopped, and you heard Chris shift slightly in his chair. “That make you nervous?” he asked, his voice quieter than before.

You shrugged, playing with the edge of the blanket. “Not really. I think it’s kind of nice. Like, even when you’re out there, completely alone, you’re still part of something bigger.”

The room fell silent again, save for the hum of the air conditioning and the faint scratch of his pencil. His questions were small, almost offhand, but they kept coming, pulling more of your thoughts from you as he sketched in that quiet, unhurried way of his.

“You talk about space like you’ve been there,” he said after a while, his tone light.

“Maybe I have,” you shot back, smirking slightly.

Chris shook his head, his smirk faint but visible as he glanced at you briefly. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re boring,” you countered, grinning as you stretched out on the bed.

“Better than being sucked into a vacuum,” he muttered, going back to his sketching.

And just like that, the quiet settled again, the conversation ebbing and flowing in a way that felt easy, even as something heavier lingered. The two of you sat side by side on Chris’s bed, the air conditioning humming softly, the smell of smoke lingering faintly from earlier. He was leaned back against the headboard, sketchbook balanced on his knee, pencil moving quietly as he worked on something. You were scrolling absentmindedly through your phone, occasionally glancing at the Sharpie dragon on your thigh.

Neither of you spoke much, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just… there. Like the kind of quiet that exists when two people have been around each other long enough to not need to fill the space with words.

Chris shifted suddenly, setting his pencil down on the edge of the sketchbook. “Be right back, again” he muttered, swinging his legs off the bed and standing up.

“Don’t have to announce your departure every time,” you replied, not looking up as he disappeared down the narrow hallway.

The creak of the bathroom door shutting made you glance up, your gaze landing on his sketchbook left open on the bed. You hesitated for a second before curiosity got the better of you.

Sliding the book toward you, you tilted it slightly to get a better look. The first sketch was striking: a tall, shadowy church with jagged spires, the lines rough but deliberate. You stared at it for a moment, recognizing the eeriness in the way he’d drawn it, almost like it was crumbling but still standing tall.

Flipping the page, you found a sketch of Lila. The detail was softer, more careful—her small face framed by loose curls, her grin wide and toothy like she’d just said something she thought was the funniest thing in the world. You could practically hear her giggling through the lines.

The next page stopped you in your tracks. It was a statue, wings spread wide, its face serene but haunting. You squinted at it, certain you’d seen it somewhere before—probably in Pine View’s graveyard. Chris had captured every detail: the folds of the fabric, the slight tilt of the head, the rosary dangling from its hands. It looked like it could step right off the page.

And then you turned to the next sketch, the one he must have been working on just moments ago.

Your stomach flipped. It was you.

Or at least, it looked awfully like you—same slouched position, same lazy grip on your phone, even the crumpled hem of your shirt sitting exactly the way it did now. He’d even drawn the faint lines of the Sharpie dragon on your thigh.

You stared at it, your chest tightening. The detail was striking, but what got to you was the way he’d drawn it: with an intimacy that felt too precise to be accidental. There was something about the tilt of your head, the way your posture looked so familiar but also so studied.

The sound of the bathroom door opening snapped you out of it. You scrambled to set the sketchbook back down where he’d left it, flipping the cover closed just as Chris walked back into the room.

He glanced at you briefly as he crossed the small space to the bed. “You good?” he asked, his tone casual but with the faintest trace of suspicion.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, tucking your phone into your pocket and leaning back like nothing had happened.

Chris sat back down, picking up his sketchbook without a word. He didn’t open it, though, just held it in his lap as he looked at you. His brow furrowed slightly, like he was about to say something, but instead, he leaned back and grabbed his pencil.

You stayed quiet, pretending not to notice the way your pulse was still racing. The air in the room felt heavier now, though you couldn’t tell if that was just your imagination. If Chris suspected anything, he didn’t show it, his pencil scratching softly against the paper again as if nothing had happened. You shifted slightly, leaning back against the headboard, feigning a casualness you didn’t feel. Your fingers picked idly at a loose thread on your shorts, your gaze fixed on the faint glow of the bedside lamp. But your mind kept drifting back to the sketch—the way he’d captured you so effortlessly, like he’d been watching longer than you realized.

Chris was quiet as he worked, the faint scratching of his pencil filling the space between you. You wanted to say something, anything, to cut through the strange weight that had settled in the room, but nothing came to mind.

“Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?” he asked, not looking up. His voice was even, but there was a faint edge of curiosity, like he already suspected the answer.

“M’just thinking,” you said, a little too quickly.

Chris hummed, the kind of noncommittal sound he made when he wasn’t entirely convinced. “ ‘bout what?”

You shrugged, your eyes flicking toward the dragon still etched on your thigh. “I don’t know. Space stuff.”

That earned a faint smirk from him, though his pencil didn’t stop moving. “You’re always thinking about space stuff.”

“It’s better than thinking about… other stuff,” you muttered, your voice trailing off.

Chris finally looked up at that, his dark eyes studying you for a moment. The silence stretched again, heavier this time, before he went back to his sketch.

“I saw the one of Lila,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Chris paused mid-line, his hand stilling as his gaze flicked toward you again. “What?”

You gestured toward his sketchbook, trying to keep your tone casual. “When you went to the bathroom. I peeked. There’s one of Lila. It’s… really good.”

His expression softened slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing as he leaned back against the wall. “Yeah. She sat still for like five minutes, which is a miracle.”

You smiled faintly, relieved that he didn’t seem upset. “The one of the statue… is that from Pine View’s graveyard?”

Chris nodded, his pencil tapping lightly against the edge of the sketchbook. “Yeah. I go there sometimes to sketch. It’s quiet.”

“Figures,” you said, shaking your head. “You’re the only person I know who’d find a graveyard relaxing.”

He rolled his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching. “I was gone for like three minutes max, kid, why you writin’ a biography of me.”

You snorted softly, but your mind was still stuck on the last sketch. The one of you. You wanted to ask about it, to call him out, but the words felt too big, too risky. Instead, you reached for the joint still sitting in the ashtray on the nightstand, lighting it and taking a slow drag.

Chris didn’t say anything as you passed it to him, his fingers brushing yours briefly before he took it. The air was thick with unspoken words, but Chris wasn’t stupid. He’d noticed the way you avoided looking at him when he came back into the room, how your fingers fidgeted with the edge of your shorts like you were trying to distract yourself. He knew you’d seen the drawing—he could tell by the way your voice had faltered when you brought up Lila’s sketch, as if you were testing the waters. But when you didn’t mention it, when you chose not to talk about anything else instead, he felt a strange sense of relief. He wasn’t sure what he would’ve said if you’d brought it up, wasn’t ready to explain why he’d felt compelled to draw you the way he had. So instead, he let the silence stretch between you, grateful that, for once, neither of you pushed too hard.

authors note: for all my priest!matthew babies, promise ur getting fed soon! i’m binge watching euphoria and i still can’t help but need nate, elliot and fez in a way detrimental to feminism :,p

TAG LIST: @jetaimevous @sturnsblunt @riasturns @ifwdominicfike @chrissturns-wife @mattsmunch @pip4444chris @ribread03 @ariestrxsh @angelic-sturniolos111 @pvssychicken @mattslolita @stvrnzcherries @dottieboo @lovergirl4gracieabrams

[ikkyfics]

Vows

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: “Writing these vows. It’s an impossible task. How can I put everything I feel for you into words? There aren’t enough. I start writing and everything sounds... small, you know? How do I sum up you?”

Warnings: none

Part of 3 Marry Me

Masterlist

James was sitting in the armchair near the window, the late afternoon sun casting a golden glow on his dark hair. He had a parchment in front of him, partially scribbled on, but most of the words were crossed out or abandoned at random. His quill spun awkwardly between his fingers as he looked at you across the room.

You were curled up on the sofa with a book, but he had no idea what the title was. For James, the sight of you, your forehead slightly furrowed in concentration, the way your fingers slid along the edge of the page before turning it, and the way the corner of your mouth curled, as if savoring each word, was simply mesmerizing.

“This is impossible,” he murmured to himself, but loud enough for you to hear.

You looked up, confused. “What’s wrong?”

James let out a dramatic sigh, dropping the quill onto the parchment and sinking deeper into the armchair. “Writing these vows. It’s an impossible task.”

You tilted your head, a smile starting to play on your lips. “Why? I thought you were great with words.”

He laughed, messing up his already wild hair, his glasses slipping a bit down his nose. “Normally, yes. But... how can I put everything I feel for you into words? There aren’t enough. I start writing and everything sounds... small, you know? How do I sum up you?”

Your heart tightened, but also warmed with the intensity of his words. Closing the book, you set it aside and moved closer. “Let me see,” you said softly, sitting on the edge of the armchair and picking up the parchment.

He hesitated but handed over the paper with a guilty smile. “Don’t laugh, okay? I swear I tried.”

You scanned your eyes over the scribbled words. There were unfinished sentences, like ‘I promise to love you with everything I am,’ and others with little drawings beside them—hearts, stars, and something that looked like an attempt to draw you, though in a clearly awkward way. You couldn’t help but giggle when you saw one draft where he wrote: ‘I promise never to steal your chocolate, unless you offer.’

“James,” you began, your voice warm with affection, “this is so you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that good or bad?”

“It’s perfect,” you said, looking at him with sincerity. “I don’t want perfect or polished words. I want them to be yours. And this...” you pointed to the clumsy drawing, “is exactly the kind of thing I love about you.”

James smiled, his blue eyes sparkling behind his glasses. He gently pulled you by the waist, making you fall into his lap. “Really? So you won’t complain when I give an entire speech about how beautiful you look when you’re concentrating, or how much I love it when you correct me with that face of ‘James Potter, stop being an idiot.’”

You laughed, the sound light as a melody. “Oh, I will, especially if you say it in front of all the guests.”

“Oh, so I should save it just for us?” He tilted his head, his lips brushing your temple before he kissed you gently.

Your heart melted with the gesture, but you tried to keep the playful tone. “Definitely. And the less you draw, the better.”

“Hey!” He made a mock pout, placing a hand over his heart. “My drawings are full of emotion, you know?”

“They’re full of something, for sure,” you teased, laughing when he pretended to be offended.

“All right, all right,” he said, holding your face in his hands and looking deeply into your eyes. “I may not be good at drawing, but I know exactly what I’m going to say in the vows. I’ll say everything I love about you at the right moment. Every detail, every little thing that makes me think I’m the luckiest guy in the world for being yours.”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes and tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let you. “Hey, no hiding those tears from me,” he whispered, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. “They’re beautiful. Just like you.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in and kissed you, slowly and deeply, as if trying to convey everything his words still hadn’t managed. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, a peaceful smile lighting up his face.

“So, what do you think? Do I still need the vows, or is this enough?”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I think you’ve already said everything.”

James smiled, pulling you closer as if he never wanted to let go. “Great. Now, let’s move on to the second part of the plan: doing nothing but staying like this with you for the rest of the day.”

And at that moment, with the sunlight glowing all around and the sound of your laughter echoing through the room, it felt like the whole world had been reduced to the two of you. And that was more than enough.

[katelynnwrites]

kisses to my exes | laura freigang

warnings: ~

word count: 562

summary: without asking laura, you decide to do what you think is best for her. except that you couldn't have made a more wrong decision.

a/n: first thing i've written in a long time 🫠

really, you don’t know what you had been thinking, opening the door for your ex like that.

after all, you’re the one who broke up with her.

but laura was standing out there, in the pouring rain and her clothes were already getting soaked. that silly yellow umbrella she’d been holding had done little to nothing to help shield her from the storm.

now you stare at her, unable to tear your eyes away.

she’s shaking a little in her cream sweater and jeans, clenching something tightly in her fist.

her voice is hoarse when she speaks, ‘you broke up with me…and i have every right to be upset. really upset. i was so hurt and awfully confused because up until that moment, i thought we were doing good together.’

you swallow with some difficulty, eyes finally darting down to the ground.

‘then syd said something while we were in paris. she said that you didn’t strike her as a bad person and maybe you broke up with me out of some misguided notion that you were helping me somehow.’

the pain in her voice is evident, the raw edge of it only growing as she continues, ‘i thought she was making no sense. until i remembered something you once said in passing. that you felt like you were holding me back.’

‘laura please. let it go.’ you whisper because she’s stepping forward and getting too close now.

the german woman ignores you, coming right into your personal space.

‘so it’s true.’

‘i’m sorry.’ you murmur, already resigning yourself to her hating you.

your ex must read the thought on your face because she shakes her head with a scoff.

‘stupid. you’re still so stupid because how can you not see?’

‘see what?’ you weakly say.

‘that all of this-’ she shoves what she’d been holding into your hands.

‘-means nothing without you!’

in your hands is her bronze medal from the olympics. you stare at it rather dizzily.

‘oh.’

‘oh.’ you repeat, swaying a little on your feet.

vaguely, you register laura’s mouth moving but you can’t hear anything.

not till she grips your arms firmly to steady you. the harsh pressure forces the world to come back into focus, just in time for you to hear her say, ‘idiot. my misguided self sacrificial idiot. the biggest idiot i’ve ever known and yet i love you.’

‘you love me?’ you faintly ask.

‘never stopped.’ she breathes, ocean coloured eyes meeting yours with an unblinking intensity.

with a rush of emotion, you literally fall forward into her arms, ‘forgive me schatz. i’m so sorry. i love you, i promise.’

laura’s arms were practically waiting because she draws you close immediately, ‘already have. swear you’ll never do that again okay? there are other ways to show that you love me.’

right there and then you decide that you never will do such a thing again. the blonde is entrusting her heart to you again and you’ll be damned if you mess this second chance up.

the dampness of her clothes don’t register, all that matters is her familiar, solid and all encompassing warmth. the months apart have not impacted how she feels like home.

as she said, there are other, less foolish ways to show her that you love her and you are intent on showing her each and every one of them.

German Translation:

schatz - sweetheart

[shrimpsuru]

wowee I've developed a new interest!! I drew this on 0 sleep, so if it looks bad, don't say anything,,, I also wanna yap into the abyss about my thoughts while watching it and stuff- so If none of my rambling makes sense, then its also from the fact I haven't slept.

I have a lot of critiques with this drawing, and the longer I stare at it the worse it looks- and it's driving me crazy. Skwisgaar's guitar looks so dumb, but cut me some slack this is the first guitar I've ever drawn!! They're hard to draw!! _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):_ I also feel like pickle's fuck ass comb over looks a bit too thick, I'll fix that the next time I draw him. Give him the baldness he deserves. I'm not happy with how I drew everyone, I think Skwisgaar's hair doesn't look great and that I could definitely do better on just about everything lol. Next time I shall draw them much better, if I don't I'll spontaneously combust on spot.

I currently just started the third season, and I really like it so far! It's a fun show! My fav Is Toki (if it wasn't obvious), but everyone's pretty great. They're all so stupid and silly, I giggle like an idiot every episode. My dad loves the show and watched when I was little (the show came out just a little bit after I was born which is insane lmao) and has been rewatching it with me. His favorite character is murderface lol. My best friend also sat down to watch some with me (she was reluctant at first, but she admitted that she thinks its a pretty good show :D) and she really didn't like the pickles comb over. She said that he need's to let it go, which is fair.

While me and my dad were watching it, we got to the last few episodes in season two- tell me why the show suddenly became uncensored. Entire time things have been blurred, but all of a sudden murderface's dick is there for the whole world to see,, like c'mon man.... put that away... this whole time things have been blurred- but now that my dad's next to me you wanna show dicks and tits... okay dude.

that's it for my rambling, too tired to conjure up any more thoughts I'm goona go sleep. If you actually read any of this- that's very nice of you :3

[insomniadreamzz]

Hii can you do a jinx smut where the reader has a disability where she can’t walk properly and has to use a cane or wheelchair. Whatever one you want. Soft stuff 💚

True love

Jinx x Fem!Reader

Mentions of physical disability, smut (soft), fluff

(Little Flashback)

You can still remember the moment you first met Jinx. She saved you from some Enforcers who probably must have mistaken you for someone else. The way you layed helplessly on the floor in pain, already saying goodbye to your life and then suddenly she appeared, shooting them down in seconds you couldn’t even process how quick she was, the thing you couldn’t see clearly though were her pink eyes, the little light string they leave whenever she moved swiftly, she was beautiful and strong.

„Come on don’t lay there like an idiot and go away before more of them will come to get ya. I am not your personal bodyguard, I just had a good moment so…better run before my bullet reaches between your eyes.“ The blue haired girl said and you frowned as you leaned up on your hands. You couldn’t run. You couldn’t even walk properly without any helping gadgets. And even if you had a cane you were just ashamed about your own disability, you liked your wheelchair even though you could at least walk a little but besides the embarrassment of how it looked you were in pain when you tried to walk. But now when your eyes glanced over to the broken wheelchair, little tears formed into your eyes. „I can’t…“ You said with a soft voice, Jinx looking at you with a confused expression. „What? Do you want to get shot?“ She asked again and you shook your head with a frustrated groan. „Ugh no! I mean it. I can’t walk. They destroyed my-…my wheelchair.“ You pouted, trying to hold back your tears and somehow the blue haired girl felt sorry for you. She knew how it felt to be different even though her differences weren’t physically. „Oh damn…I didn’t know that.“ She mentioned before stepping closer to you, glancing to the broken wheelchair and then back to you again. „Well you are lucky I am in a good mood today.“ Jinx mentioned before scooping you up into her arms, the way she could lift you up so easily, her muscles flexing as she did so, it was kind of attractive to you, making you blush.

„Thank you…“ You mumbled. „It’s okay. Tell me where’s your home I will take you there.

(End of Flashback)

Since then you and Jinx became very close. She made a new wheelchair for you all by herself, of course having her signature drawings all over it with neon paint. Every now and then she helped you walk for at least a few steps to keep your muscles intact. She cared for you so sweetly sometimes it made your heart ache of how sweet it was.

Today was one of your bad days. You felt the pain again even though you took your medicine, just one of those days where you can’t do anything but lay down in bed. Jinx knew those days and she was never leaving your side on those days, staying with you all day until you feel better. „Her hand was gently caressing you as you both cuddled, her closeness always made you feel relaxed. You just loved her but you never told her.

„Thank you Jinx…I am happy I have you with me.“ You whispered softly, making her hand hold your gently. „I am happy too. I found someone who understands…how it feels being different.“ Jinx mentioned and you blushed a little bit, feeling the same. „Same here. You like me just the way I am and never treated me like I am a weirdo only because of my…disability…“ Your voice lowered, making Jinx shift a little bit before lifting your head up by your chin, making you look into her beautiful pink eyes, she looked so serious though.

„No I don’t like you. I love you. I love you just the way you are. You don’t have to be able to walk or even run with me. You do show understanding for my own differences from others, my own disabilities, my craziness. You accepted it all. This is so much more important.“ She said, veing serious and honest for once. You kept on staring at each other before you both followed your feelings, closing the gap between you and finally your lips touched, kissing each other deeply and lovingly, both of you feeling butterflies in your stomach.

The kiss deepened as soon as Jinx noticed you returned her feelings, hovering above you as she slipped her tongue inside your mouth, her hands slipping under your shirt to caress your body. You didn’t know how but you totally forgot the pain. You felt so light and save with Jinx, everyone would think you are crazy for that but Jinx gives you so much safety. All that time you knew each other you never felt not save around her. Maybe she was a little bit possessive around you but that was okay according to her past. You understood her and honestly you didn’t mind. You loved how she wanted to show people you are hers.

She slowly pulled back from the kiss to breathe, now her gaze being filled with lust and you felt the same. „I love you too Jinx. Please never leave me.“ You said and that made her reach for your cheek, gently caressing it with her thumb as she tried not to cry. „Oh toots…I would never leave you. I love you way too much. Besides I need you just like you need me.“ She said before crashing her lips against yours again, making both of you moan softly into the kiss, getting lost into a heated and passionate kiss.

After your make out session both you you wanted more. She traveled down your body, leaving wet kisses on your bare skin until she reached between your legs, helping you to adjust your legs a little more comfortably as she spread them so she had a better view at your dripping heat. Before anything she looked at you, her gaze already driving you to the edge. „Are you sure you want me to…“ She started and you blushed, nodding eagerly. „Yes. Yes please Jinx I want it.“ You hummed, biting your lip as soon as you felt her tongue moving, licking along your wetness and playfully flicking it over your clit. She kept on kissing and licking you hungrily, gaining soft moans from you as you felt shivers go down your spine, the good feeling only getting more intense as she started to suck your clit, sending more shivers of pleasure through your body. You never thought you would experience something like this, the way her hands gently caressed your thighs while she was eating you out so good, it felt amazing.

„Mhh…does my girl want more huh?“ She mumbled softly, as she looked at you with a lustful gaze, you having a hard time to look back at her, your cheeks flushed red. „Y-Yes please.“ You really wanted more and Jinx will give you more as she used her finger, easily slipping it inside since you were so wet, gaining another moan from you as she slowly pumped it inside of you, you throwing your head back into the pillow when she added another one, fucking you with her fingers meanwhile her mouth was busy taking care of your clit. The sensation driving you over the edge once she curled her fingers inside of you, hitting your sweet spot.

„Oh…god-…I am so close…please…“ You whimper softly, encouraging her to ho faster and she did, groaning softly when she felt you clenching around her fingers and cumming hard as you arched your back, moaning loudly.

Jinx removed her fingers, wanting a taste of your cum as she used her tongue on you, making you whimper, feeling so sensitive at this point. When she was done licking you clean, she sat up, smiling at you before crawling up to you, placing a soft gentle kiss on your lips. „I love you so much…“ She whispered and you couldn’t feel happier at this point, hugging her tightly against you. „I love you too…thank you. Thank you so much for being with me.“