#so im a little delirious. just a tiny bit.

[chococookiez]

kinda delirious n i wanna spill my guts.

he looks and sounds so pretty in this clip it's not fair how did i even get here. i don't like irl men Except for vic who let him do this to my brain im so mad. i thought i was done with celebrity shenanigans after i got out of my bts phase why didn't anyone tell me it was gonna come right back around like this what is wrong with meee im gonna explode . fuck it this is the nightly ptv post what day is it 161 left until i see them live? (coherent edit like 2 hours later: it's 125 DAYS LEFT YOU DUMBASS) it's like almost 6pm which is a bit early but whatever idc rn

[academiccockroach]

it's 1 AM and I have a very specific bone to pick with a very specific thing I consume, enjoy and endorse wholeheartedly

here's the thing about vampire bites. they are depicted as this little unhinged and nasty but mostly sexy thing right. our guy (gender neutral) gets bitten and it's like ah! it hurts but also it hurts good ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). and here im talking about like. proper vampire teeth, non of that twilight bullshit just two to four proper fangs nothing more nothing less

well clearly the person writing the sexy biting smut scene has never been bitten by a cat. I dont mean like 'ah no Scruffy bit me a little' i don't even mean 'oh no Sceuffy bit me a lot' i mean like a fully grown ass feral cat that has never been touched by human in its life and craves the taste of flesh biting thru skin muscle cartilage -even sometimes bone- whatever the fuck you got in your meat sack that tiny needle thin tooth is piercing right through it

and here's the thing. it doesn't hurt at first oh no. okay well it hurts but if doesn't hurt too much ya know what i mean. and it leaves a cute little mark nothing serious at all

but in a day that wound is gonna swell. and it's gunna. hurt like all fuck because it just directly injected about five gazillion bacteria directly into a neat little incubation pouch and then closed it right up. its gona swell its gonna ooze and throb and hurt and if that shits in your neck ur pretty much done for i mean an infection right next to the jugular is just easy mode for the bacteria

so unless your vampire boyfriend gargles with antiseptic beforehand you aint gotta worry about turning or bleeding out or developing a biting kink cus youre gonna be delirious from meningitis with a football sized phlegmone in your neck beggjng for the sweet sweet release of death thank you for coming to my ted talk please ensure your vampire boyfriend employs proper dental hygiene

[milf-harrington]

Ooh tell me about trailer park neighbours please

gladly!! it's one of my steve-has-an-older-sister fics, and it's a mix of pov's and a bit of a relationship study w/ a side of steddie it's just not the focus. i also think i might end up making it a 5+1 fic, but im not sure yet.

louisa, older than steve by about 5-ish years, lives in the trailer park after being kicked out by their dad. her plan was to move to chicago and go to school or something, but she couldn't bring herself to just leave her mum or her little brother, so she stuck around. despite being really close as kids, their parents manage to turn steve against lou by basically just brainwashing him, but when steve starts reevaluating his life in s1, he realises he misses her and reaches out and they wind up having weekly dinners

in the beginning those dinners tended to end in arguments that cut the evening short and steve would storm off and drive home, it happens less and less as they grow closer again and stop feeling like they constantly have to have their guards up around eachother

and then there's eddie, who is one of lou's neighbours and doesn't really know who she is - he sort of thinks shes one of king steves conquests at first, what with the way they were yelling at each other that first time he saw them, but then steve just keeps coming back and eddie can't really make sense of it

and then, july '85, someone starts banging on eddie's door and it's louisa and she's like "i need to borrow your first aid kit" and eddie ends up following her back to her trailer and finds a very bloody, slightly delirious, steve harrington on her couch which is when he finds out they're siblings. and steve's like. still a tiny bit drugged and also finally coming down from the adrenaline of the whole night so he just sleepily babbles about how pretty eddie is and eddie's like o///o

here's a lil snippet also:

Someone was knocking on his door, frantic heavy slamming like the slap of an open palm. "Alright, alright!" Eddie yelled, trying to wrap his hair in a towel and yank on pyjama pants at the same time. He threw open the door, hinges groaning and skin still damp from the shower, to find the woman from down the road standing on his porch. Her name was Lisa, or Lucy, or something, and she looked frazzled, dressed in a grey singlet and pink pyjama shorts, hair falling out of its scrunchie. There was blood smeared on her shoulder and jaw, staining her fingers. "I need to borrow your first aid kit." Alarmed, Eddie let go of the towel half wrapped around his head and felt it fall, hot and damp, around his shoulders. His hair followed, cold strings of wet spaghetti down his neck, but he ignored it. "Are you okay?" "I just need your first aid kit, do you have one or not?" "I- yeah?" He stuttered, automatically stepping back to let her in. She glanced down the road, towards her own trailer, eyes worried, before following him inside. "It's just in the kitchen." He told her, somewhat uselessly but unsure what else to do, as he reached up to pull the box from the top of the fridge. "So, what do you-" "Can I just take the whole thing?" She asked, clearly itching to get back to whatever emergency she needed the kit for, and Eddie paused. "Do you need help?"

[artsycloudysleepy]

posted a UTMV fic on AO3!! :D

(first time ever sharing, pls be nice; i am very sensitive to criticism and am going through a writing block rn! but if anyone has tips for using ao3 lmk! ty)

[edit: my link seems to be weird in some situations, and on a phone linked me to someone else's fanfic? so make sure the fic is titled 'Bleh' and is by me before you assume it's the correct one. sorry]

tumblr version below cut! TW for autophobia, implied/referenced abuse, minor hallucinations (not harmful).

..............................................................................................................................

“…nt that he comes to us.”

Cross slowly stirs awake.

“mm. gonna ‘afta talk ‘bout this ‘n therapy.”

That��s Horr-Horr. He’s nice.

“yup. ain't healthy fer him. and ya've seen how little he- oh. he's awake.”

Dusty. He’s also nice. He sounds surprised.

“stars, we wake him up? whoops.”

“heh. g'mornin’, cross.”

Cross mumbles incoherently in response, curling into a ball under the warm covers. He feels so fuzzy. Really light-headed, come to think of it.

“’s ‘e overheatin’?”

“probs.” Dust’s hand, likely, presses against Cross’ forehead.

It’s so cold. He whines in a broken, hoarse voice, and there’s a coo as the hand trails to his neck and collarbone. Cross buries his head quickly into it as he squirms uncomfortably.

“spiking.”

“oh stars. get ‘im outta there.”

Cross gasps as the hand slides to the nape of his neck and another under his pelvis, kicking weakly and sorely croaking out a complaint whilst he’s lifted out from under the warmth of the covers.

Are they abandoning him? That's what it feels like.

He'll be left alone again.

To rot.

To-

“shh… shh… it‘s okay.” Dust’s soothing, and Cross realises quite how sweaty he feels. He cries a little, hoarse sobs wracking his body in tiny shakes. “get the boss already.”

There’s quick footsteps, then silence. All that breaks it is Cross’ broken cries, and Dust’s occasional murmurs of reassurances that fleet quickly from Cross’ muddled, distressed mind.

Then, there’s underwater footsteps, Cross beginning to see stingrays and shoals of fish swimming in the water in his vision. Some movement, then freezing fabric underneath his palms and spine and skull and feet makes him flail weakly.

“-icine. Ideally something to combat hallucinations.”

“on it!”

There’s a shift of magic that Cross feels overstimulated by, but before it registers fully, there’s a sudden shockwave of calm that resounds in his bones, louder than his fears but quieter than the magic previously.

He weakly looks up. Nightmare is sat by him, in his bed. Cross takes a moment to realise he’s lying down, whereas Nightmare is sitting, and he can’t be lazing-

“-Cross, chiquito, you’re not lazy.” the Guardian cuts his rambling mouth off with a gentle hush. “You’re just emotional and tired, and far too delirious for you to realise what you’re saying.”

Sobs stopping almost instantly, Cross goes quiet, staring up at his dad. He thinks he keeps that thought quiet, too. Maybe.

Above, Nightmare smiles gently, forgivingly, at him. “Hello, little one. Son. Do you think you’re a bit confused?”

Cross nods, wet eyes getting wetter as they slowly blink for a little longer. He feels so disoriented, and so scared, but so sleepy, as if a gentle weight is tied around his waist. It doesn’t hurt; it like he’s sinking into the bed, and the mattress is moving and rising as he slowly descends into it, genuinely wrapping around him and making Nightmare smaller and smaller.

That's right.

He won't abandon him.

He's safe.

“Do you want to go back to sleep?” the Guardian quietly murmurs, lower and softer with every moment of groggy lull Cross endures, and stroking his skull with a phalange or eleven. “You’re hallucinating very vividly. Like you’re already asleep, despite your best efforts to stay aware. I would feel more happy if you just let your eyes close as that happens.”

Cross find himself failing to complain when a tentacle drapes over his forehead, instead relaxing into the drowsy, dizzy feeling overcoming him. Still, he’s trying to watch the others and what they do, ensure he’ll be safe, but he’s so tired…

His eyes are barely able to crack open to watch Horror and Dust and Nightmare and focus on what they're fidgeting with or whispering or doing in general, so it takes him a few moments to realise with what little he can see that Killer isn't there. Has he gone to get something (he probably hasn't abandoned him, right)? Wait, did Nightmare mention medicine..?

His memories are too muffled to tell. Like his delirium has a muzzle on it. Like the pretty cyan ribbons of magic sparkling in his fading peripheral are glittering and distracting his gliding thoughts. It's oddly soothing, though a part of him is still on edge, as always.

That'll never change.

[Sp.] “Cross, dear, sweetheart,” Nightmare murmurs lovingly, drawing his wandering attention back to him with a lilt of his voice and a guiding phalange against his chin tilting his eyes back to his glowing, soothing one, “no one minds you having a nap. It will take, what, ten minutes? Not too long with those pretty eyes closed to the sparkling sky. The white moon’s orbit, the white Sun’s rigidity, the lilac and pink and white and black planets encircling you over and over as the stars start to drizzle down.”

As ever, Cross is obedient. His eyes close on instinct, disgusting code telling him obeying is right. XGaster always-

"Dear, he isn't here. Don't you fret so much, okay?"

And just like that, the anxiety melts away.

"Hm... That's more like it. We'll work on that when you're feeling a little more perky, okay?"

The voice almost has a parental tone. But it's not like his creator's. It's not disappointed or dangerous, like he'll hit him if he's imperfect. It's calming, authoritative in a way that's soothing to his frayed nerves and worried edges because he knows how to act. He knows how to respond to orders and superiors. And this time, he won't be hurt no matter how badly he screws it up.

"You can stand down, soldier."

But he still wants to be useful. If someone abandons him again, he... He doesn't know if he'll be found again.

He won't ever be happy like this again.

"Sleep, Cross."

Cross weakly tries to hold on, digs – curls – twitches, maybe, his phalanges, but the stars are calling to him sleepily. His name, his identity, kind hands and warmth gently guiding him back to the starlit sky, the homely galaxy, the colours that are so natural to him that don’t blare in his face like sirens every time he’s introduced a new tint and shade and tone. And the stars twinkle hypnotically, inviting him to drown in them, not to think of anything but their beauty.

The hands are warm, careful, freeing him of weight and responsibility as quiet commands to release coax his own to instead weakly hold them. He’s mesmerised, numb and tingly and soothed while the voices and the stars lilt onto him lowly.

“Don’t you resist it, dear,” the most prominent star whispers in low, lulling Spanish. “it’s a waste of energy. You just rest for now. It doesn’t matter what you thought you wanted, all that matters is that you need to have this rest. Never mind any chaos outside, you just focus on counting all these stars. You focus on losing yourself here, forgetting what you felt like you wanted to do, like working and fighting and ignoring your fever for days and days, and instead just realising how nice it feels to give in and up.”

For ten minutes.

For ten hours.

It’s all the same anyway.

And as the world he was previously tethered to by a heavy and cutting rope drops from him, and leaves him blissfully carefree in the void of absence, he doesn’t particularly mind. The slow breaths probably mean nothing, seeing as his previous discomfort is absent like his reality. His thoughts are free-flowing, like ink from a pot that spilled over.

Maybe that means he’s free, for the while.

[onlyjaeyun]

UMMMM ZADIE CHAP 19?!?!?! ok ok let’s discuss the angst first bc poor riki :((( he didn’t deserve to go through that, but hoonie being there to comfort him and be with him even after that whole thing happened was rlly sweet ngl🥺🩷 and then riki and yn talking about what it would be like if their lives were different absolutely broke my heart like they literally only had each other :(( but i’m so glad they have the boys with them now bc you can tell they’re the best thing to ever happen to the two of them (maybe not sunghoon for yn right now but i know this character development for the both of them is going to be sooo good🤭🤭)

OK AND NOW ONTO YN AND HOON’S TEXTS???? OMG?????? i had to take multiple deep breaths while reading those bc sunghoon is being so bold running his mouth and omg this is something i need to get used to😭😭 (the way i’m writing this ask with sunghoon’s weverse live playing in the background where he’s wearing glasses also isn’t helping like im actually going crazy)😵‍💫 i love how they’re like “hate” flirting but also giving into each other like that’s just so 😮‍💨 just the thought of him eating her out in his car is also making my brain go insane i need to take a walk around my room again

AND YN POSTING THAT HOT AF OUTFIT ON HER STORY WITH SINGULARITY AND BAD BITCHES STAN TAEHYUNG AS THE CAPTION YUPPP I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT‼️‼️‼️

so it’s been 2 days of me being isolated in my room and i think i’m going delirious like i’m so bored😭 but luckily i still need to catch up on some en-o’clock episodes so that’s helping time pass by quickly!! i’m feeling a bit better today, definitely better than yesterday, but i’m hoping to fully recover soon bc covid is no joke😭 i hope you’re doing well and taking care of yourself as always baby!! stay safe!! sending a big kiss your way my love💞✨💋

- 💌

HI ANGEL BABY 🥺🥺🥺im so so so relieved and happy to hear that you're doing and feeling a tiny bit better, am also glad you're resting well and aren't pushing yourself too much your body needs this and you deserve this little break so much, so take it easy pls 🥺 so glsd you've got smth to keep you busy and have the time pass by faster!!!!💗💗

the whole riki situation really is such a big heartbreak like he's trying so hard and always has and he deserves nothing but the best my baby :( they really deserve their found family i love them so much ;(( just thinking about hoon hearing about it and instantly going to look for him makes my heart weak THEY CARE SM ABOUT EACH OTHER 🥺🥺🥺🥺💗

YOU AND ME BOTH BABY I LOVE THIS NEW DYNAMIC BC THEY HATE EACH OTHER BUT THEY WANT ESCH OTHER SO BAD LIKE OKAY SIR HELLO TENSION ???? im so glad you guys enjoyed this chap sm bc i was a little unsure about it at first, thank you sm for all the love baby 😭😭💗

CH!YN ALWAYS SPEAKS FACTS: BAD BITCHES STAN TARHYUNG IKTR 🤭🤭🤭🤞🏼

thank you for this baby, i love and appreciate you so much and am wishing you a speedy recovery, take care of yourself!!!🥺💗💕🎀🫧

[freebooter4ever]

Hmmm memories. Grandma would love my tree.

I printed out a photo and mailed it to her in a christmas card but its not the same.

I was sitting in my chair and thinking about how i really should have a second one because it's extremely silly to have only one seat. Eventually i will expand my circle of friends, eventually im gonna want to invite people over who will not willingly sit at the bar for the whole time, i need a second seat.

But it also got me thinking about Grandma in ohio and her set up with two armchairs right next to each other in front of the TV.

When I was tiny, like really really little, like less than 4 feet tall little, I was terrified of the dark/sleeping alone. My one grandma (callyerdogsoff) helped out by recording a cassette tape of her reading my favorite books: "Sarah's Lion" and one about a ballerina. Every night I would play those on repeat over and over again until eventually I fell asleep and it would run to the end of the tape and then turn off.

My other grandparent's - the italian ones - solved this problem more directly. They would shove this ratty textured 70's lounge chair thing up against the end of their four poster bed and let me sleep there. The lounge chair had very boxy three sides and was flat and with the extra edge formed by the bed, essentially made a very large crib.

Now this was the house my dad and his three siblings went through high school in, so there were perfectly decent bunk beds in the boys old room I could have slept in one of those. But because I'd get scared grandma and grandpa always let me stay at the foot of their bed and fall asleep to grandpa's snoring.

Anyway, in october this year, the night before I took the flight back to LA, even though I knew I had to wake up at 3am, I snuck downstairs, through the farmhouse, and over to Grandma's little cottage, careful not to wake my aunt and uncle.

I knew grandma would be reading because of the number of times in the months after grandpa's death when I'd have to go take the book out of her hands and turn the light off after she'd finally fall asleep. And sure enough, she was in bed reading, and I crawled in on grandpa's side next to her, just to spend a little bit more time with her. And we were talking, and laughing about how both of us have queen sized beds now and neither of us use the whole thing - we have our 'side' and don't like to cross it. Grandma because from age 19 on she always had grandpa beside her. And me because im just used to having a twin bed, lol.

Grandma asked me if I wanted to sleep there next to her, and I declined because I knew I had to get up at an ungodly hour of the morning and I really didn't want to wake everybody on the farm. But also because it felt a little weird taking grandpa's spot instead of being at the foot of the bed.

And then she confessed something that just absolutely broke my heart. She said that sometimes when it's just her alone, in her chair in front of the TV, with the empty chair sitting next to her, she pretends like grandpa's sitting there and she's talking to him.

I have a lot of regrets about everything that happened after grandpa's death - i dont think we should have moved grandma from seattle that suddenly and quickly. She lost her entire support network and community AND her husband of over 65 years all in one go. And my aunt complains that now she won't socialize with anyone outside the family.

Grandma and grandpa had their first date when they were 14 and 17. And my bitter mother used to tell me that the only reason they stayed together was because they were of a 'different generation' and they secretly hate each other just like my mom hates my dad. But it wasn't true. My grandparents were in love up until the day he died - even when dying in the hospital while he was slightly delirious on pain meds grandpa was jorking about him and grandma 'necking'. And whenever the three of us went to the museum of flight during my visits back home from the burgh, grandpa and I would wander into the exhibits to look at the history. And grandma would sit in the main atrium to people watch and socialize. And grandpa would always make sure we checked in on her regularly because - as he put it - if he left her sitting there alone too long the old men would start flocking.

Anyway, I was just sitting there in my drawing chair tonight thinking about how I didn't even have a second chair let alone someone to imagine in it. And it also got me thinking about how much grandma would love my christmas tree.

[beomglocks]

9:34 pm with beomgyu

summary : your boyfriend lets you do his eyeliner

pairing : boyfriend!beomgyu x reader

warnings & other : domestic asf, fluff, suggestive if you squint?, just a little something bc i haven’t slept in 48+ hours and im delirious and thinking abt gyu </3, might be some mistakes idk

“close your eye more,” you whisper softly. you’re so close to beomgyu’s face that you’re sure he can practically feel every steady breath of yours. beomgyu grins, pulling you closer to his body, if that is even possible. your lips would be squished against his cheek if he were to move even slightly more forward. “baby how can i close my eyes more, it’s already closed.”

you huff, situating yourself to a more comfortable position on his lap. he sits with his body rested against the couch and yours atop of his, straddling his legs. he holds your waist firmly so that you don’t falter and mess up his eyeliner.

“i don’t wanna get the liquid in your eye and have it sting for hours,” you say. you screw the brush lid back into the bottle and wait for him to comply to your demand. you both end up staring at each other, silently challenging one another before he groans, holding you close again.

“gyu~” you whine when he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. “you know if i mess up you’ll be annoying me for hours about it!”

“so im annoying now?”he mumbles into your neck causing you to shy away from the ticklish feeling. “yes,” you run your hands through his hair affectionately, letting him relax for a bit before you go back to doing his eyeliner.

“now let me finish your eyeliner,” you pull his head away from your neck but pause when you feel a cold breeze go over a wet spot on it. he smirks when you look at him unamused. “you still love me,” he says.

you roll your eyes at his antics deciding to ignore the fact that he gave you a hicky ( you being too focused on scolding him to notice ) and the cold feeling on that particular spot from the temperature of the room. “now close your eyes,” you repeat. “but i wanna see you,” he says as he finally complies with your order. he pouts as he waits for you to open the tiny eyeliner bottle again.

“you’ll see me when im done though,” you laugh at his childishness and kiss his pouty lips softly. “now stay still.”

you slowly drag the eyeliner tip across the corner of his eye, making the straightest wing you could possibly make. your boyfriend was already cute but with well done eyeliner? you figure you might pounce on him right then and there.

you unconsciously grab a fistful of his hair, placing your thumb on his brow bone to make him stay in place as you perfect wing with the brush. “ouch~” he muses. “what,” you mumble not looking away from the eyeliner. “nothing, i like when you grab my hair like this,” he grins. you can tell he’s trying hard not to open his eyes and see your reaction. “shut up,” you mumble with a shy smile on your face.

after finishing the base of the wing you allow him to open his eyes. “ok open your eyes,” he slowly flutters his eyes open with a childish frown plastered on his face. “stop frowning im almost done.” you move his bangs out of his face and smile at him. “why did i agree to this again?” he asks himself.

“because you love me,” you say. he hums as you go back to finishing his wing. it’s sharp and not too brash but beomgyu said you could go all out if you wanted to. you figured you’d go for a simple wing just to experiment on him. it’s not like you were going anywhere and you were curious about how the other boys would react to his appearance.

you connect the wing to the rest of liner that you had previously done on his lid and finish filling it in. you lean back to admire your work, moving his bangs back into his face. “i think it looks cute!” you hand him your pocket mirror for him to judge the look but he simply looks at it for two seconds and throws the mirror back on the table.

within seconds you’re flipped over and pinned down onto the couch. “i like it,” he says, giving you a quick and teasing peck on the lips. you laugh at his action, “it brings out your eyes, makes you look a bit mysterious.”

he ponders on your comment for a bit. “ooo~ mysterious, that sounds hot,” he says, playfully kissing you again for good measure. he pulls you both back up so that your sitting on his lap again and he scoots you closer to him. you watch him bring his hand up to adjust his bangs like he usually does but you slap his hand away.

“what was that for?” he raises his voice dramatically, making a face of faux offense. “you’ll mess up my hard work idiot,” you laugh. “plus i still need to do the other eye.”

“you’re lucky i love you,” he mumbles, closing his eyes again to get ready for you to do the other eye.

“whatever you big baby,” you say playfully as you lean in to finish your boyfriends makeover.

[rexuality]

alrighty please just go ahead and forgive me in advance, I'm going to write this shit in an absolute godless manner, grammar and coherence is simply off the table babeyyyy. just pretend I'm texting all of this to you in a deranged midnight conversation

I'm going to call my stardew valley lover Bee, it feels fitting. she is busy all the time because she has 3 jobs, loves nature, and she's just a fuckin bumbling delight. very scattered, but warm and approachable. ahhh

Anyways literally day 2 of being on dating apps, Bee and I matched on tinder and she started up a conversation damn near immediately. She was eager to meet up. It sounded fake!! I was like, "there's no way this fucking elven dime wants to meet me, she has goddamn boudoir pics and what do I have?? I have nothing, I have the sex appeal of a guinea pig"

But, she was serious. She was married to a nice lumberjack gentleman and had a tiny bit of experience with women, but nothing more than kissing. She wanted to change that as soon as she could and even though (I later found this out) she had MANY fucking options, she picked me. She said it looked like "I had a good soul" 😭

So we started talking every day and very shortly after we planned to meet in Gatlinburg. She's about 3 hours away from me so it was as close as halfway as we both could do without venturing into towns that begged for people to get murdered there. (Dead center between us are towns that are literally 85% less safe than the average US city. Gburg it was)

We decided to book a hotel room (I screamed) and we said that we'd hang out for the day and if we both vibed with each other we'd fuck 🙈 so for more than 3 weeks while we talked I fluctuated between hot mess, deliriousness, and then trying to re-center myself back to reality just in case she met me and was like "oh... actually no thank you :)" I honestly had a hard time wrestling with my body image because hers is SO nice and mine is... fine. She sent me dirty pics and I passed away and I sent some back feeling like a fuckin muppet

Being someone's first anything is a lot of pressure. I was so fearful that I wouldn't live up to her fantasies. I bought so much lingerie... drank pineapple juice every day for 3 weeks lmao and even got a fucking brazilian for the first time!! Women are metal as hell y'all, that shit HURT, I've never yelled profanity in front of a stranger like that before.

(I also got an STD check even though I've been with the same fella for 6 years. Safety is important!! Never halfass this, I beg of ya)

anyways, so Saturday finally arrives and I drive up to Gatlinburg wearing a hot outfit for confidence- a little wraparound skirt, a lowcut tank, and gold body chains. The average outfit in Gburg is a sun visor, a novelty t-shirt, and Keds so I received a LOT of mean mugging but you bet your ASS every person who looked even vaguely queer complimented my chains. I know this sounds like some fanfiction bullshit but they're right!!!! what you're wearing is somehow crucial to the story, I absolutely HAVE to share this. plus... the chains are relevant later on 🙈🥵

anyways when I finally met her I was struck with 2 things:

1) Yes she absolutely IS as gorgeous as her pictures 😭💕

2) She looks so easy and cozy to be around. Her kindness could be spotted from a mile away

You know how sometimes you'll meet someone and you desperately want to skip ahead to the part where both of you already know each other? That's how I felt.

Aaaaand my lunch break is over. I know I keep doing this and IM SORRY, I legit have no time these days. I will continue as soon as I can. Y'all I am BLOGGING again!!!!!

[elliewritessometimes]

hi! i have Returned™ with a prompt from the lovely @notsomightymightytiger that has been sat in my inbox for well over two months oops im sorry-

the prompts relate to a hospital au and a sick/injury fic and i hope this is okay!!! love you kiera <3

tw: hospitals, injury, sickness it's all fairly minor though there's nothing at all graphic but do be careful take care lovelies

-

Eva Sanchez, in all her eleven year old glory, was more than used to hospitals. Sometimes, old people (in her mind, anyone over the age of 27) would be "so awfully sad" over the weeks she'd spent in a ward. But, to Eva, it was kind of normal. It wasn't exactly fun, but it was her life and she was fine with it.

Tonight, she couldn't sleep.

Earlier, this kid probably about Eva's age had come in, all bruised circles under eyes and rude words towards the nurses. Eva had listened over the gentle chatter of her own grandmother as the dark-haired girl had spoken in a voice filled with hurt to a tall couple who must have been her parents. If she strained her ears over the buzzing of a children's ward, she could hear the angry whispers between the adults and child, before this sour-mouthed, lonely patient had been left alone overnight, refusing comfort from Eva's favourite nurses. Eva felt like she should have been repulsed by this outwardly spiteful girl, but instead she was only curious, sneaking glances at her between curtains as though her eyes were magnetised to theirs.

She was pretty.

Eva liked their eyes.

For once, the ward was quiet. Eva's mother slept in a tiny put-up bed beside hers and once again her drowsy but not yet sleepy mind was focused on the angry patient from earlier. She wondered if their parents had come back or if she was still alone across the room.

Maybe she was a little delirious, or still suffering the after effects of her earlier treatment, but Eva found herself desperately struggling out from bed, pulling a blanket down with her and shuffling as quietly as possible across the ward to the other girl's bed. It was naughty and against all the rules, but Eva knew that if she wanted to sleep tonight, she had to know that the kid was okay.

She slipped past the curtain, trying to be as quiet as possible. Obviously, that didn't work.

"Hello."

Eva jumped, spinning around to see as her target leant up in bed, a hand steadying her head. "Hi, sorry, I- I just wanted to check- I mean, I don't even know you, but- I thought-"

She stopped rambling, taking a breath before beginning again. "I'm Eva."

"Kate." The girl - Kate - raised her eyebrows. "Who are you?"

"I'm on the ward too. I saw you arrive." Eva's feet were getting cold.

"Oh. You were watching me," said Kate, filterless.

"Yeah, your parents seemed kinda mad," Eva replied, also filterless. "I came over 'cause I was a bit worried."

"I'm fine."

Eva's heart dropped. She'd expected to feel a little more wanted. With a sigh, she turned to go back to bed. "Oh. Okay, then. Bye."

She tiptoed away, just closing Kate's curtain again when - "Wait! Eva, no, come back!" Kate's voice was a hushed shout. Eva spun around, narrowing her eyes until they continued. "I didn't mean go."

"Oh." Eva paused at the curtain, narrowing her eyes. Her head span a little, maybe from illness, maybe from the sudden change in attitude from Kate. "Okay."

"Sorry."

"Are you okay?"

Kate only nodded.

Still leaning a little on the curtain, Eva decided to change the subject, "Why were your parents so mean?"

Kate shrugged. "They got mad because I got a concussion. Apparently, it's my fault that this girl at gymnastics made me jump so I slipped and bashed my head in." They rubbed their head where they'd hit it, wincing a little before shaking it off to continue. "My brother says our parents just suck anyway. And he should know 'cause he's sixteen."

Eva nodded sagely; sixteen was almost an adult. She thought that she would know everything there was to know when she was sixteen.

"Anyway," Kate continued speaking. Apparently she was chatty once you got her going. Eva liked this about them - it was nice to not have to be the one doing all the talking. "Why are you here?"

"I'm sick." Eva didn't expand on it, overtaken with tiredness suddenly. "I'm here a lot."

Kate squinted suspiciously at her. "Oh. Fair enough." The squinting increased, enough so Eva could see the wheels turning in their head. Eva almost turned and left to prevent the inevitable questioning. Shockingly, it didn't come. Instead, Kate got slowly out of bed, padding across the floor to put a hand at Eva's elbow. "You're shaking."

Eva's brain short-circuited over Kate's acceptance and lack of inquiry. She opened her mouth to protest, before closing it again and taking a breath. She was, in fact, shivering. "You know when you've been awake for so long that every time you yawn, you start shaking?" She waited for Kate to nod. "That's me right now."

Kate smiled, slipping their hand into hers. "Come on." Together, they slowly made their way over to Kate's bed, slipping under the covers.

Eva yawned, prompting another roll of shivers, subconsciously tightening her grasp on Kate's hand as she did so. Trying not to put too much pressure on her sore head, Kate tilted their head towards the other girl. "This is weird."

"Yeah." Happily content that her worries from earlier were unfounded, Eva really wanted to go to sleep now. She fought to keep her eyes open, grinning when Kate giggled.

"You're so tired!" Kate obviously wasn't.

"Mhm."

"Don't go to sleep yet. You can't come over here, wake me up, get in my bed, and then go straight to sleep." She could hear them pout. "That's unfair." Eva hummed a vague response. "I'm gonna be here for all of tomorrow according to the doctor and you're here all the time, so tell me something that'll make it better."

Eva blinked open one eye. "Okay. Sure." She thought for a while. "I have these tiger toys called Giles and Corey. My tía got them for me when I first got sick to remind me to eat and drink enough." Closing her eye again, she gestured in the direction of her bed. "The ginger one is Giles, he reminds me to drink water in case I forget. The other one, the black one, is Corey-" She was cut off by a yawn.

Kate grinned sleepily. "That's so cool. I think you're cool."

"Thanks." Eva shoved her face deeper into the pillow to hide her smile. "You're cool too."

"What does Corey do?" Despite their head injury and earlier angry demeanor, Kate was surprisingly animated over these two cuddly toys. "Oooh! Does he have superpowers??? Can they fly?"

Eva laughed, "No... Corey just reminds me to eat my meals."

"Wow." Eva's yawn caught up to Kate. "You gotta show me them tomorrow." She closed her eyes along with Eva, still holding her hand under the duvet. "My parents are gonna see that I can have a concussion and still be fabulous."

"Hell yeah, you can." Shivering still, Eva shuffled closer. "We're gonna be the most fabulous friends ever."

[theaspen]

Hi. I would love to request #7 from your Horror prompts with Jungkook.

Thank you 😊

Hey anon, thank you so freaking much for requesting! This was my first request eek! Also im so freaking sorry if this was too late or too long! I made this a bit confusing on purpose and you'll reliase if you read it carefully!! I really really hope it's up to your expectations!!! I'm open to criticism and I would love it if you have me feedback later! Again extremely sorry and thank you!!! If you have any questions please do tell via ask or message I don't mind anything!!

Jungkook was sure that any moment now he would fall to the ground. If the sun's scorching rays hitting every inch of skin wasn't enough, it was currently 2:45pm and the only thing that he had for his stomach was a flimsy sandwich in the morning that Jimin had oh so generously provided him with.

Each step Jungkook took resulted in the cramp on his ankles worsening. His hands and body overall felt like they were being weighed down by lead. Jungkook furrowed his brows; despite the loose tank top and shorts he wore, the cotton material still disgustingly stuck to his skin. Why on earth did he agree to go on this god forsaken trip.

His eyes returned towards the ground, grumbling he pulled his cap further downwards in an attempt to hide away from the sun glaring down. Jungkook was quite literally lost in the middle of nowhere, with no signal on his phone,no food or water and no peace of mind. The ground seemed to sway beneath him and it took every muscle of his body to not collapse down. In Fact Jungkook was quite sure of the heat and the delirious kind of exhaustion creeping in that he was losing his mind. Because why the hell didn’t he notice the well within two metres of his distance sooner?

The tiny hope that there would be something to occupy himself with so he doesn't faint, Jungkook trudged towards the well eagerly looking down. What met his sight however, was less than pleasant. The well seemed to go a long long way and nothing but darkness met his gaze. He supposed that this was logical. Looking carefully, Jungkook could see the cracks and the layer of dirt on the well. This place must have been abandoned and made sense to not have anything in it. Furthermore there didn’t seem to be a bucket or rope anywhere.

He carefully placed his hands on the well trying to be on his tippy toes to get good luck. He wished the place he was in the middle of at least had a few stones so he could try throwing them and seeing how far the well goes. Jungkooks mind was already muddled up and hazy , so much that he didn’t notice how the stones that made the well were unnaturally cold and pleasant to touch.

“You okay there?”

Jungkook leapt about a foot in the air, his hand slipping in the well and his foot losing balance on the sand. Someone caught his hand just in time as he let out a colourful string of words, Too late however as his bracelet he was wearing on the left wrist slipped and plopped down into the well. Jungkook might have been dazed but he wasn’t a fool however to notice how long it took for the bracelet to finally hit the water that he doubted was ever there. His body shuddered at the thought that he might have been the one to fall down instead.

He turned around ready to glare at the person who appeared so suddenly behind him, the fact that he was met with however softened his gaze. A girl , around his age, quite possibly older. She had a diamond face and defined eyes. Despite her sharp features her expression was moulded into one that seemed sheepish, mischievous and shy. To put it simply, totally Jungkook’s type.

“Yeah I’m fine....well fine for someone who almost fell down.” Jungkook muttered a little breathlessly. He pouted in the absence of the bracelet that hugged his wrist. It was a nice blue and white coloured one, albiet not expensive it still looked good. Oh well, he was thankful that it was the bracelet that fell and not him

The girl who he had momentarily forgotten about grasped his shoulder shaking jungkook off his train of thoughts

"Do you need directions?" The girl asked, "I've come here for a trip and I'm staying near a hotel."

Jungkook smiled boyishly, "I would love that, do you happen to know where __ is?"

The girl furrowed her eyebrows at the name, "_? I'm sorry I haven't heard of a place like that before. Maybe you would like to accompany me to the hotel?"

Jungkook let out a heavy sigh, the small attempt making his already weary body worse, despite that he managed to smile , "I appreciate it but it's alright I'm sure it's here somewhere....i would hope to see you soon though." He added with a somewhat flirty and shy smile

The girl smiled back a bit bashed and hurriedly left her cheeks on fire

"Mina where the hell were you? I thought you just left to collect the tickets?" A girl with short hair and bright eyes said glaring at the girl.

"I'm sorry, I met some insanely cute guy on the way."

"What? Did you atleast get his number- wait what's on your hand?"

Mina looked at her hands, confused, her eyes widened as she saw some sticky kind of dry liquid dark brown or black in cover coating her palms. Was it when she touched the well? Maybe it was tar?

She rushed to the bathroom. The material seemed to annoy her and it also gave off a strange smell. She struggled a bit trying to get rid of the liquid, her hands rubbing insanely hard with the pink soap. Her head has trailed back towards her best friend's words. Shit she should have taken his number before she left

"SHIT MY PHONE." Mina screeched out loud at the realisation that she might have left her phone near the well!! Or worse she might have dropped it along with Jungkook's bracelet. Bystanders were looking at her weirdly as she openly cursed but at that moment she didn't care .

This is what you get when a cute guy finally seems to like you back Mina.

Without a second thought she ran towards the reception demanding for help. The poor worker seemed nervous but nothing went through Mina's head except her precious phone. So many important things....not to mention without the phone she couldn't go back home.

Mina didn't notice someone who was observing her obviously distressed appearance

A man who must have been in his late forties approached her. Mina knew this man, he was in charge of all the tourists. Tourists including her.

"Mina, am I right? Can I help you? I know it's insanely stressful to lose something as important as that during a trip. But don't worry!" He spoke softly with a kind smile, "The staff here is used to it and will help you locate your things as soon as possible!"

Mina exhaled a sigh of relief, a few if not all her worries washing away. The man in front of her had a certain charm to him that made her relax instantly. His name, which was Jimin, seemed to fit him well as well. She remembers some of the older women on the trip blushing when he came near them. She couldn't blame them though for someone in his forties he was insanely attractive and charming

"Thank you so much! I don't think it should be hard to get my phone back." Mina spoke a bit nervously, biting her lip, "it fell in a well."

"...what well?" Jimin said his voice surprisingly and suddenly tense and....scared?

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm sorry Mina, I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. There's no well within miles from here."

Mina tensed at that. No well? Then what the fuck happened a few hours ago? And judging from Jimin's tone it was obvious he was hiding something and he obviously knew something about the well

"But what about the boy who I met? There was this guy and he-"

She widened her eyes at Jimin who was desperately trying to ask Mina to shut up. What was this guy's deal? And why was he being so secretive?

A bit confused she followed Jimin as he motioned her to follow her into a secluded hallway

"Listen Mina , what I'm going to tell you is going to sound crazy-"

"What even-"

"Just listen to me!" Jimin whispered out sounding borderline desperate

Mina shut her mouth nervously fiddling with her shirt.

"There's this.... whatever you witnessed over there isn't really okay?"

"What do you meant- I , you weren't even there"

"Let me guess. A guy named Jungkook who you just happened to find? He drops a bracelet in the well, am I right?"

Mina's eyes if possible widened even more

How did he know?

Jimin took a deep breath before continuing, "A guy- I mean the same guy you saw there- he's- he's dead what you saw there...that wasn't really him"

"How's that even possible that's bathsit crazy-"

"Jungkook lost his fiance in the well."

Mina's mouth shut at that , a signal for jimin to continue

"He lost his fiance and he....and he lost his mind after that...he was convinced she didn't really die. The bracelet you saw.... wasn't just any bracelet it was something given to him by his fiancee"

Jimin's eyes glossed over and his voice was shaken, "Jungkook fell in the same well a month later...."

"But I fucking saw him Jimin how are you going to explain that-"

"I don't fucking know alright?? You aren't the only one that happens even for a few years. All of them are girls but I don't think you need to worry about it. Nothing happens to those girls....my theory is that it's just Jungkook's lost soul..still in denial about his lover's death."

Mina had no words to say, how could she? After all she supposedly saw a fucking soul.

Jimin put a hand on her shoulder, "A word of advice Mina, don't go looking for your phone"

With that Jimin left leaving Mina behind more confused and spooked then ever

__________________________________________________

Jimin entered his hotel room with a heavy sigh. His eyes wanted to do nothing but rest but he reached towards his drawer. He shakily pulled out a photograph

The photo was blurred but seemed to capture a wholesome moment. Jungkook looked simply starstruck and happy next to his soon to be wife with a diamond face and defined features.

Jimin held the photo tighter in his hands, "Jungkook....i saw it on her...i saw the blood in her hands...." Jimin muttered to himself, his mind going back to the black sticky substance you didn't notice on your collar. You had mistaken it as "tar" and Jimin laughed bitterly at your naive thoughts.

"Is it her Jungkook? It must be her? If it's her Jungkook....please stop trapping other girls...let this be the last girl that goes missing for your sake...."

_______________________________________________________

other prompts

[marvels-agents100]

in the hands of tyche

“for those who believe, no proof is necessary. for those who don’t believe, no proof is possible.” stuart chase

pairing: aaron hotchner x gender neutral ! reader

warnings: slight swearing

word count: 4,603

author’s note: thank you for your patience with this request! it is such a cool concept and it was so, so fun to write. also, im putting together a lil ~thing~ in celebration of hitting 100 followers, so stay tuned :)

“Some psychic this guy is,” Rossi muttered, “this place is as far from a rocky shoreline as you can get.”

Hotch pulled back the blue plastic tarp that was draped in front of the window, revealing a view of lighthouse perched upon a rocky shoreline. Of course, it was a mural painted onto the brick wall of the neighboring building, but it was still a rocky shoreline, nonetheless.

“Dave,” Hotch said, the amusement not lost in his voice. The ghost of a smile danced on his lips as he turned back to his friend, more entertained by the legendary David Rossi being wrong than a psychic being right.

Meanwhile, at the local police department, you were placing Aaron’s files into his briefcase, hoping to have the station cleaned up for him and Dave before they returned. You set the files before you, biting onto your cheek as you tried to picture how Hotch would order them himself. Pensive thoughts brought about your fidgeting with the silver band that wound around your third finger. It was something you did whenever you got lost in your mind, playing with the engraved ring Jack had insisted Aaron purchase for you when they visited Disneyland the autumn before. Small sparkles and fireworks were etched into the metal, a small reminder of happiness when the days seemed dark.

You remember the day you received it, waiting at the airport terminal for the Hotchner boys. The moment you locked eyes with Jack, his smile had lit up the room and he began to sprint towards you, arms open and insistent. You knelt to catch him, his small body colliding with yours, your laugh filling the air.

It was short lived, the hug he gave you, because he quickly ripped himself away and ran back towards his dad. Jack’s tiny hand grabbed into his father’s first two fingers (his small palms were unable to fully grasp Aaron’s hand), desperately pulling the two of them towards you.

“Dad! We have to give them the present!” His little feet were skidding on the tile in excitement, sneakers jumping erratically against the linoleum. A giggle accompanied Aaron’s wide smile, his own feet moving at a purposefully slow pace, just to savor the unbridled excitement his son displayed.

“Present?” You questioned as the boys finally reached you, your eyebrow raising in Aaron’s direction.

“I picked it out all by myself!” Jack exclaimed, pointing a finger at his chest. The small lisp on his tongue only made his pride more endearing.

“He did,” Aaron agreed, his usually serious tone abandoned, “he refused to let me have any involvement in the choosing of presents.”

When you did finally receive the ring- back at Aaron’s apartment, where he could comfortably dig through his luggage- Jack also had to show you the other presents he had chosen for the rest of the team. The line-up included a Stitch bobble head for Auntie Penny and a Genie stuffie for Uncle Dave, to name a few.

Ever since that day, that ring was permanently placed on your finger- the sweet, innocent smile of Jack Hotchner calming your mind whenever you saw it. It had become a grounding mechanism during particularly difficult cases.

You decided to order the files by date, starting with the earliest murders. However, before you could even begin, your instincts froze your movements. The hairs along the base of your neck straightened, a slight shiver circling around your spine. Your eyes scanned the room subtly, meeting the gaze of none other than Stanley Usher, a resident psychic that was involved on the case, who was standing beside an officer across the room.

Abandoning your organizational pursuits, you walked the length of the room towards him.

“I have a feeling you haven’t heard this,” you began, “but thank you for helping on this case.” You decided to start politely, rather than confronting him for his obvious staring problem.

You held your hand in front of you, offering him a handshake.

“You believe I helped?” He questioned, smile never faltering as his palm shook yours briefly.

“I think it doesn’t matter what I believe,” you shrugged, “you gave someone hope when all was lost, and contributed to helping find a missing woman. I thank you for you intentions, whether your predictions came true or not.”

His eyes narrowed at you slightly, but that might have just been from his widening smile.

“I appreciate that,” his voice had a gentleness to it- you could see how he was so successful in his line of work. Anyone with a comforting timbre to their words would be easy to believe.

You nodded curtly, spinning on your heel to return to your work.

“And, Agent?”

You looked over your shoulder, pausing your stride momentarily.

“Chase him,” his lifted his hand, his thumb pointing to the base of his middle finger. Your eyes flickered to the silver ring on your own.

“When the summer rain falls, you’ll know he’s chasing you, too.”

You stared back at him for a moment longer, eyebrow raised in question. Then, wordlessly, you turned forward and moved to the aforementioned table, shaking away the completely ridiculous thoughts Stanley Usher had placed into your mind.

‘Chase him’? 

Yes, it was vague, and your skeptical mind told you that there was absolutely no logic behind it, but the certain Supervisory Special Agent that immediately popped into your thoughts was far from vague. Aaron Hotchner had occupied your conscious (and subconscious) mind rent-free, and his tenancy was a fact you did your best to ignore. But, despite your best effort, his deep, honey eyes and velvet voice never left you alone, even when you tried so hard to escape them.

There wasn’t a single soul who knew of your infatuation with your Unit Chief, and there was no way in hell Stanley Usher would know.

***

The jet was quiet on the trip home. You were sat beside Hotch- as per usual- while he read a book, his chin resting in his palm, elbow perched on the armrest of his seat. Mind somewhere between conscious and asleep, you lulled your head towards him.

“Hey, Hotch,” you spoke lowly, in order to not disturb everyone else on the plane, “guess what?”

A chuckle slipped past his lips, your obviously sleepy demeanor amusing him, “What?”

“Usher, the psychic guy, gave me a prediction.” You bit back a smile on your bottom lip, your slightly delirious state missing the way Aaron’s eyes flickered to your lips momentarily.

“Really?” A small grin- a shit-eating grin- settled on his features, (he always smiled so damn much when it came to you),  “Alright, I’ll bite. What did he say?”

“He basically told me that we’re gonna fall in love- something about summer rain?” you chuckled, lifting your hand, “And he got all of that from this ring.”

The falter in Hotch’s smile lasted only a millisecond, but the way his pulse raced was something he was sure would last for a few hours.

“I think that just confirms my theory,” Hotch relaxed further into his chair, eyes moving back to the novel in his lap, “that guy is a complete fraud.”

The back of your hand met his shoulder in a playful smack, “You’re an ass,” you settled into your own seat as well, closing your eyes as you began your first attempt at sleeping, “It would be a privilege to love me.”

And you were far into your own dreamland before he could even think about replying, but even if you were awake and alert, his honest reply would’ve died on his tongue before he even spoke the words.

Yes, he thought, it would.

***

There were no more discussions of a potential love, or Stanley Usher, following that late-night jet conversation. Life was nothing short of normal and wonderful, with the days spent in the BAU full of cases and paperwork, and the days off spent with Jack and Aaron, (since Hailey let Aaron take Jack on his days off), or in the comfort of your own home. That’s not to say your feelings had disappeared, but rather you had never broken your routine of completely burying them.

Little did you know, the words you shared with Aaron that night had yet to leave his mind. It was a terrible and abrupt realization, how much he truly cared for you. It was a subject he had never fully confronted within himself- whether it was out of fear or avoidance, he didn’t know. But, since your sleep-induced thoughts spilled from your lips, they had wormed their way into the forefront of his memory and had given little respite to the anxious worry they brought with them. It was entirely stressful, trying to figure out his own emotions.

There was only one thing he was certain of: he had wondered how your lips would taste on far too many occasions to call it normal daydreaming.

He found himself struggling with his self control when you were around Jack. There was something about the way his son smiled at you, that made him want to hold you for an eternity. The swell in his chest brought a warm fullness that he hadn’t known he was missing, but the feeling of it’s presence became addicting. He found himself yearning for you, missing your company, wishing to hear your voice.

“Watch out!” You had yelled to him, running from the giggling Jack Hotchner, “It’s the baby monster!”

Jack squealed in delight, hands held in front of him like an adorable, undead zombie, feet pattering on the hardwood flooring as he chased you.

Ah, there it is.

Like a breath of fresh air, the feeling returned. The weightlessness it brought made Aaron float.

***

The sun shone brightly as you entered the BAU, and while the bright weather is something you usually praised, the lingering pain of the previous night’s bad decisions was keeping you from basking in the light. Damn Emily and her affinity for whiskey.

The travel mug of coffee in your hand made a satisfying clink against the wood of your desk, your half lidded eyes reaching a file that hadn’t been there when you left yesterday. In fact, it was a file you had turned in a few days prior. On top of the manilla was an orange sticky note, the unmistakably messy writing of none other than Aaron Hotchner scrawled on it.

MISSING ME’S TOXICOLOGY SCREEN- SECOND VICTIM

AH.

You sighed as you settled into your seat, picking up the landline to call in for the report.

He subtly watched you from his office, almost chuckling at the slump in your shoulders. You were never able to say no to Emily, regardless of how many shots she brought to you. A smile tilted at his lips, but was quickly gone as a knock sounded from the door.

“Come in,” he called. JJ’s head poked in, a sizable stack of files in her arm.

“Good morning,” she greeted, “I just wanted to let you know, they’re postponing maintenance repairs on the jet until tomorrow.”

He shuffled papers around, eyes following his work’s movement, “Are there any cases you’re considering? Should we start looking at commercial?”

“Thankfully, no,” there was hint of a laugh in her words, “which is good. I’ve never liked flying in the rain.”

His actions stopped momentarily, gaze snapping up to the woman in his doorway. Desperately, he tried to keep his features from displaying how his heart had dropped from his chest.

“That is good,” he agreed, his voice surprisingly strong, “keep me updated.”

“Yes, sir,” she smiled, the door clicking shut as she retreated back to her office.

He let out a long, drawn out breath as soon as she left, suddenly feeling dizzy and very, very warm. The intensity of his pulse was something that echoed in his ears, which became red at the very ends to match his cheeks. He had put his best efforts into keeping the words of Stanley Usher from his mind, but it was a lost cause as soon as JJ had mentioned the rain.

Eyes moving back to you, he felt the nerves begin to eat away at his gut. You were obviously miserable, but somehow, someway, the slight frown on your features and the (mildly) disheveled state of your hair was enough to lift the very corner of his lips into a minuscule smile. Even on one of your worst days- which is beyond understandable, from your choice of a drinking partner- you were, in Hotch’s eyes, the most beautiful being he had ever seen.

***

It took a little over an hour to get the toxicology screening faxed to the unit, machine sputtering as it printed. You slipped the paper into the file, the soles of your shoes clicking against the floor as you made your way to Aaron’s office. Knuckles tapping lightly on the wooden door, you poked your head in.

“I have that file completed,” you smiled, holding up said file in the doorway.

“Come in,” he didn’t look up from the papers below his pen.

You didn’t think much of his focus, moving into the office and putting your revised work on top of the tower of manila that sat on his desk.

“Anything you need?” You offered, fingers twisting the ring on your finger, “Coffee? Food? A break?”

He finally looked up at you, eyes flickering to your fidgeting hands.

“No,” his voice was soft, “but thank you.”

You nodded shortly, a polite smile on your lips before you turned and left, suppressing a shiver that ran down your spine. There was something that was bothering him, you knew. His whole demeanor was slightly shifted, slightly wrong. Even if you didn’t know the reason, you sure as hell didn’t want to deal with an oddly behaved Hotch for the remainder of your day.

You popped two Advil into your mouth at your desk, willing your headache to leave you as you began plotting.

***

Your final decision was that of the edible route. If there was anything in the world that could create a smile on Aaron Hotchner’s face, it was a blueberry scone from the hole-in-the-wall cafe three blocks north of the BAU. Your lunch break was spent walking to, and dining at said cafe, enjoying a scone and coffee yourself, the second round of caffeine helping to ease the remnants of your hangover.

Emily hadn’t stopped teasing you since the moment you had clocked in that morning. She was as chipper as ever, acting as if she had gotten a full eight hours of sleep and didn’t touch a single drop of alcohol the night before. The way she seemed invincible to the source of your destruction only further proved your point that God is a woman, and her name is Emily Prentiss.

But, despite the jokes and jabs from your close friend, the BAU had been oddly quiet. Any day spent without a case was something to be marveled at in and of itself, but the tense atmosphere extended further than that. Specifically, into the Unit Chief’s office. Derek had talked to you about it briefly, the way Hotch was acting. 

“I know that office is his home, but the closed door is a bit concerning.”

You agreed, but neither of you knew how to go about a solution. Eventually, you had retreated back to your desk and subsequent mountain of paperwork. It was while you were finishing a file on the cop-killer in Phoenix, Arizona, that the famous blueberry scone made an appearance in your mind.

It was quickly followed with a mental image of Aaron Hotchner’s smile, but you elected to ignore that. (You also ignored the way your heart was beating because of it).

You were one block away from the Quantico Headquarters when the sunny sky split,  unleashing a rain that was just heavy enough to soak you thoroughly.

Water dripping off your clothes, you stepped into a nearby clothing shop, heading straight to the clerk.

“Do you sell umbrellas?” You asked, arms crossed and fist still gripping onto the scone-filled plastic bag. 

“Back corner over there,” he said politely as he pointed, obvious sympathy in his eyes.

Nodding, you turned and followed his direction, tugging a new shirt and slacks from their hangers as you walked. A bucket of umbrellas sat exactly where he said they would be, all patterned differently.

Naturally, you took the plain, black one, moving towards the front of the store once again.

“Is it okay if I change into these clothes after?” You questioned, placing your items on the counter.

“Of course,” he replied with a smile, “dressing rooms are just around that corner.”

Paying him quickly, you grinned, “thank you.” 

You sent the polite retail worker one last smile as you exited the store, wet clothes in the plastic bag the scone was previously in, the treat protected only by the paper pastry bag the baker had placed it in. Everything was better- since you were armed with an umbrella and fresh clothes- until you glanced down to your watch. You were, without a doubt, late.

The sprint you took off into was that of complete panic, knowing the team was sure to be questioning your absence. You were always so punctual- any deviation longer than five minutes (which was tripled, at the time), was noticed immediately. 

Shoes splashing in the pavement’s puddles, the FBI building finally came into view. You huffed as you walked up to the secured, employee-entrance door, reaching for the ID card that always sat at the hem of your shirt.

The dread that filled you when you grasped air was nothing short of terrible.

Your eyes moved to your hip, and there was empty space where that card, adorned with that terrible ID photo, should have been. Frantically, your hand patted at your pockets, only to find them empty. Your other hand was occupied with the umbrella, bag of clothes, and blueberry scone.

As your self-pat down turned up fruitless, your frustration took over, causing you to close and abandon the umbrella for the sake of using both of your hands. The rain soaked you quickly, which only added to the tension. And, as if you hadn’t suffered enough, the stress had begun your alcohol induced headache once again.

It wasn’t until your smiling face, next to the title ‘Supervisory Special Agent’, shone through the plastic bag that your erratic search stopped. 

Of course, you thought, a wave of relief rushing over you, of course it’s still on my other shirt.

In reality, opening that plastic bag should’ve been an easy enough task, but the shakiness of your post-drunken fingers and the slickness that came with the rain proved it to be the complete opposite.

To say you could cry from the pure frustration with the entirety of your situation was an understatement.

“Damn it!” You exclaimed, letting the bag drop to the concrete. It landed next to the now soaked scone- the entire reason you had left the building in the first place.

You had half the mind to call Emily and beg her to let you in quietly before the entrance’s door swung open.

“Good God,” you groaned, “this day just keeps getting better.”

Hotch stood in the doorway, eyebrows furrowed as the took in your outfit change, your dripping hair, and the umbrella, plastic bag, and paper bag at your feet. Honestly, it was a lot to process.

“Should I ask?” He questioned, one eyebrow lifting. It took everything in him to fight off his smile.

“I mean it with complete sincerity when I say: I will kill you if you do,” you threatened.

“Noted,” he chuckled, stepping into the rain and picking up the previously discarded umbrella. He opened it swiftly, holding over his and your head. “Are you okay?”

And his voice was so soft and so damn tender, you almost lost it then. It didn’t help that he was entirely too close to you.

“I went to get you a scone,” your eyes peeled from his and landed on the pastry bag, sure to be containing the soggy remnants of said scone at that point, “It started raining, and it all went downhill from there.”

He followed the trail of your eyes, looking at the sad, saturated brown bag, “Why did you do that, sweetheart?”

Ignoring the feeling the pet name gave you, you met his gaze once again, “You’ve been in a funk today. Thought I’d try to cheer you up.”

He sighed, eyes jumping between yours, “I appreciate it, even if it didn’t survive the trip here.”

“Yeah,” you cracked a smile, “what a short, sad life.”

“Very sad,” he agreed, his own smile widening with yours. 

You stared at him for a moment, before realizing your stupor and quickly saying, “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“You’re alright,” he shook his head with his words, denying your need for an apology.

“I figured someone would notice I was gone,” you chuckled, “I left my ID on my first pair of clothes, then had a disagreement with the bag.”

“I definitely saw all of it,” he smirked.

“Dick,” you nudged him, still trying to calm your pulse.

“I know,” only a couple steps closer and you would be pressed against him, “but yes, I noticed you were gone.”

What he didn’t say was how hesitant he had been to retrieve you. It was summer, rain was falling from the sky, and the predictions of some small-town psychic were weighting heavily on his mind. Despite his skeptic nature, the mere thought of standing with you in the rain was enough to bundle his stomach into a nervous knot. There were very little things he couldn’t control about himself, and his ability to restrain his feelings while standing beside you in a soft rain was something he was absolutely sure he couldn’t control.

And you know, sometimes he was so annoyed with how right he was.

Because, as he stood before you- small water droplet stains on his charcoal grey shoulders and little drips falling from the ends of his hair- he could feel every ounce of self control slip from his grasp. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure if he was holding on very tightly to begin with.

It was completely your fault, he had decided. It was your fault because you had walked in the rain, almost got into an altercation with a plastic bag, were still fighting off a whiskey hangover- and yet, you managed to be just as radiant and beautiful as you had always been. It was your fault because you made him feel warm as he stood in a chilled rain. It was your fault because he was standing so close to you and wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold you.

If you weren’t so damn perfect, he wouldn’t be at war with himself.

“Hotch?” You asked, your eyebrows creased together, “You okay?”

He broke from his thoughts, blinking at you. There was a moment before he spoke, words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them.

“Stanley Usher.”

“Stanley Usher?” You repeated.

“What did he say?” He questioned, “About the summer rain?”

“You can’t be serious-“

“Please.”

“Why?” You interrogated, “What does he have to do with- oh.”

You met his eyes with your own, allowing yourself to read him- which was usually off limits. He looked desperate, almost yearning, for an answer. It was almost laughable, the thought of him believing the words of Stanley Usher. You hadn’t forgotten them, but you were far more spiritual than Aaron. He was the one who was supposed to be completely level headed and realistic.

“Aaron, be honest with me,” you began, “are you asking me because you want to justify your feelings?”

Maybe it was too bold, but you needed the answer, and were far too frustrated with the day to dance around the subject.

The way he immediately looked to the ground was answer enough. You sighed, saddened by the fact that he felt ashamed. It was expected, his embarrassment with himself. Anyone who had feelings for a subordinate would act the same.

You sighed before speaking.

“It reminds me of you, the rain,” you said softly. His eyes flickered up to you, looking through his lashes.

“It’s a little cold, but it’s soft and refreshing,” you continued, reaching up and tracing your fingertips on his temple, “I would dance in it all day, if I could.”

He knew what you were saying, and it took his breath away.

Your hand dropped to your side, your head tilting slightly to get a better look at him, “Would you?”

And all at once, he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. The umbrella clattered onto the pavement, his large hands holding your face instead, pulling you to him and connecting your lips to his. You let out a surprised squeak, but quickly relaxed into his touch, winding your arms around his neck.

He kissed you desperately, like the rain would wash you away as soon as he let go. You let yourself get lost in him, throwing every reservation and hesitation to the wolves. He seemed to do the same, hands finding your waist and pulling you closer. He wanted no empty space between you. Happily obliging, you tightened your grip around him.

You wanted desperately to learn every detail of him, to feel his breath with yours, to match the beating of his heart. You wanted to know every flaw, every weakness- every portion of him, no matter how small. He had become your everything, and you were content with that first kiss being your last first kiss.

Even as the rain relentlessly fell upon the two of you, no complaints were heard. The raindrops were simply an audience to the resolution of an unspoken love.

You were the first to break away, unable to ignore your empty lungs. Neither of you moved to untangle from each other.

“Aaron,” you breathed, your words brushing against his lips, “we’re gonna have a lot of explaining to do,” your eyes flickered to the cameras lining the federal building before you.

He rolled his eyes, chuckling, “Forgive me if I don’t care.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” you pressed a chaste peck to his lips.

“Mm,” he hummed as you pulled away, “I have been waiting to do that for a while.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to do that for a while.”

Your teasing tone was not lost on him as he bumped your nose with his, “We are both going to get sick from this rain.”

“Worth it,” you sighed, connecting his lips with your own once again.

And he couldn’t agree more. Even when you both caught a nasty cold, even when Strauss confronted you about your ‘romantic endeavors’, even when the team teased the living hell out of both of you- it was all worth it.

You were worth it.

***

Stanley Usher sat in his living room, flipping through channels before landing on the news, the local weather man flashing on the screen.

“-and, as the weekends come, we expect precipitation on the west coast-“

And he felt it, the phantom metal around his middle finger, the overwhelming warmth in his chest. He looked to the ceiling, almost able to hear the soft patter of rain on pavement. His thumb brushed the coolness away from his finger, and he settled into his couch cushions, a smile never leaving his face.

taglist:

@quillvine​ @winterscaptain​ @agenthotchner​ @davidrossi-ismydad​ @misskirkstark​ @good-heavens-chris-evans​ @vintagecaptainspidey​

[howdoyousleep3]

i loved that hickies post you did where you went thru with all your pairings🥴do you think you’d ever do one with face slapping (i’m so sorry i am a whore)

Omg stop first of all not a whore, never ever secondly I was just digging through my Inbox and found a request about the dynamics of Daddy Steve and Bucky face slapping! Was that you, nonnie?? Either way, let’s get into it, boo. 😎

Steve and Bucky: I don’t think face slapping is really anything that gets Steve hot. I think it’s more of what tends to happen with anything, which is because it’s Bucky Steve is on-board and hot for it. Steve has dabbled in everything, only has a few strong dislikes, but face slapping lies somewhere in the middle on Daddy Steve’s list of things that make him hot. And we know Bucky was pretty inexperienced before he met Steve, thought he had an awesome sex life.

This is something that would come up in the moment but that Steve would want to talk about more before going through with it, almost like the breathplay and choking bit. I think Steve is a confident and in-control enough Dom to work with these new findings in the moment, not necessarily needing to stop things or hold off in full. Maybe it’s a tight grip on Bucky’s chin, a shake and a “Don’t go dumb on me just yet” that makes Bucky have a much more visceral reaction. I can see this as a night where things have been building, a big night for them, an escalation of sorts. As soon as Daddy shakes his chin, his jaw, Bucky is whining out between clenched teeth—

“Slap me.”

Steve almost busts his nut right there, oh baby, Bucky letting Steve have yet another piece of control. He’d ask for a color with fiery eyes, Bucky would spit back, “Green,” and he’d let go of Bucky’s chin to smack a hand across Bucky’s cheek, his jaw, at about half-strength. Looking down at his boy, mouth open and eyes closed as he makes noises like he’s coming, hand back on Bucky’s chin, makes Steve grind his cock harder into what has to be Bucky’s sweet spot. Bucky’s choking on the word, “Daddy!” when Steve loses some control, brings his hand across Bucky’s cheek again, grips his chin tight enough to bruise, and then another smack, and fucking hell, Bucky’s coming.

I don’t think this pair slaps often. Cheek taps and chin grips are frequent fliers but slapping really only occurs when they’re really riled up. Bucky has to initiate it, which is what they agreed to after they discussed this in full, has to tell Daddy what he wants. I think this goes both ways even though it is heavier on Steve slapping Bucky. I can see them getting super riled up one time, Bucky on top and a confident rider now, Daddy’s hand around his throat. He tells Daddy to slap him and he does but then Bucky’s hand is in Daddy’s hair, opposite resting on his cheek. He flexes his fingers as he groans, roughs out, “Color,” and Daddy almost shouts his answer of “Green.”

It’s fun but it doesn’t happen a lot!

James and Stevie: On the other hand…

These two indulge in face slapping quite often and damn near from the get-go. Steve sees those paws one time and immediately imagines what they would feel like wrapped around is throat or making him hurt. James smacks Steve’s ass, his tits, and his face, the inside of his thighs. Big slappers. I imagine the beginning of their relationships much more formal as we are aware, much more Sugar Daddy than anything. I bet James would have them go over kinks and what Steve was comfortable with. They’d get to slapping and Steve gets hot in his tummy but doesn’t have experience with it so he says, “I’m not sure,” to which James asks, “Do you want to find out?”

They’re near the end of the their list and James can see how hard Steve is through his jeans, is feeling quite aroused himself, and Steve bites his lip, nods his head.

“Words.”

“Yes, Daddy. Please.”

James would snap his fingers at the floor, point to it before turning to spread his legs a bit there on the couch. Steve would end up between those thighs with his hands behind his back like a good boy, pretty tits on full display, so unbelievably graceful that it takes James’ breath away. Daddy tells Stevie he’s a good boy, give him a kiss on the lips before telling him to take out Daddy’s cock. Steve loves Daddy’s cock, at times makes James wonder if it’s too much, but  that love has never steered him wrong in any way. Steve would have both hands on Daddy’s cock, tight around the base making it look so big and ready and yummy, and James would reach forward with his own hands.

“Use your words, your manners, come on, doll,” he would chide, one hand on Steve’s chin and the other resting against his cheek. Steve would get out a. “Daddy, can I—” and James would bring that hand across his cheek hard, would make him take it with a grip on his chin. Steve’s whole body would clench up, is so worried that one roll of his hips up would make him blow his load in his jeans right there. He’s in the middle of shouting when James does is again, arguably harder, tells Steve to spit it out. Steve would be damn near delirious, would be so turned on he would be entirely too close to crying for his liking.

James’ favorite would be slapping at Steve’s face when he’s slurping and choking on his Daddy’s cock. Steve is a loud blower, eats Daddy cock like he’s hungry, makes all those noises that are straight from porn, the gulps and the slurps. Sometimes Daddy will pull him off of his cock to where the head is the only thing there to suckle on and he’ll call Steve a filthy fuckin’ boy, will hold him by the jaw, by the neck, by the hair, will give Steve a few slaps in a rapid pace. Steve will groan, his eyes might go crossed a bit, he might even chuckle around the mouth full.

“Look at you, takin’ this cock and wantin’ to get smacked around for it. Tell Daddy you’re a dirty slutty boy, tell ‘im. Ahh, don’t you take your fuckin’ mouth off’a my cock, you talk with your mouth full, you find’a way.”

(I need a minute, hnnng)

From the face it progresses, which in my brain it’s backwards, but that’s just these two lmao. This moment unlocks the slapping heaven gates for them, helps them realize what they do and do not like. I see this as a common occurrence in their relationship, for pleasure or for punishment, although that’s only spanking and maybe some tit torture. These two are all about it, all the time, no matter the reason. Sometimes, all Steve will want is a slap or two to sate him over until they can actually do something about his pent up sexual energy.

Alpha!Steve and Omega!Bucky: This one is easy for me to answer. I don’t think these two would really engage in face slapping. Steve might give a few cheek taps with a couple of fingers, tight on Bucky’s cheek when he needs to stay focused on taking Steve’s knot, but Steve would never want to bring a hand down across his sweet Omega’s cheek. They can get rough in other ways, lots of hair pulling and love bites with these two, same with moving limbs roughly and chin grips. No face slapping though. Ass slapping? For sure. No face.

Senator Steve and Intern Bucky: Biiiiiiiiiiitch, lord have mercy this pair and slapping, oof. The Senator is mean, here is your second reminder within a week, and I bet he unleased a slap the first time they were together in secret. We remember that tiny tidbit of first time with them? It was super short and didn’t go into a ton of detail but in my head that wasn’t the first time Mr. Rogers had kept Bucky in his office. I bet he had to work on Bucky, work to see if his hunches were correct, that if he were to make a move it would be reciprocated.

And he’s so meeeeeeeaaaaaan he would 100% drag Bucky along, leave him hard and achy multiple times, and I bet the first time Mr. Rogers finally finally gets his hands on Bucky it includes a slap. They’re so riled up and Bucky is so damn desperate that he almost sobs when Mr. Rogers finally presses his lips against Bucky’s. And things get so hot so fucking fast, growls and groans, squeezes, god can you imagine how hard the Senator has Bucky pressed up against that wall or his desk. He’s talking all about Bucky’s sweet little body, all the things Mr. Rogers wants to do to it, thinking out loud about how slutty he could make Bucky. A hand comes up to his cheek, pressed in tight, Bucky knows what it means, and Mr. Rogers purrs, “Y’want it? Huh? You like it a bit rough?” and Bucky just slurs out a long, “Yes, Sir.”

To be honest, I don’t know if Bucky would have any experience with it but in the moment he would want it and would love it. This Bucky learns a lot about himself with this Steve throughout the course of their not-so-serious engagement and this is one of those things. I bet they do it a lot more than the others but still not an every occurrence kind of deal. Mr. Rogers just likes to make sure Bucky is paying attention and still with him and a slap will do that and make Bucky even more desperate so it’s honestly a win-win.

Smol Steve and Bucky Bear: This one was honestly the hardest for me to figure out and I think I’ve decided that they’re up there with my Alpha and Omega in frequency—it would be rare. I think they’re just really into other things that are shows of force? Even then, I don’t think this is a pair that wants to show any kind of force like that. These two are gentler in their shows, more accepting and less condescending. They’re the lips touching as they talk and make love and slow and long and savory kinds. Like these two can go at it more than any of the others taking into consideration Alpha/Omega though. These two pull hair and bite lips and the bruises Stevie gets are from Bucky’s a bit too eager grip. No face slapping here, really.

Nonnie, bless you love you thank you.

[babysizedfics]

I need to know about doctor mama lo taking care of a sick baby Virgil if you would like pretty please. I dont wanna ask on the in character blog cuz I feel like it would be weird to ask for details and lo seems kinda busy anyway lol.

hey tumblebee!! yeah yeah lets do this, Im gonna write it so that ppl who dont follow the other blog can understand too

WARNING IF U HAVENT ALREADY BLOCKED THE TAGS ILLNESS TW AND VOMIT TW THEY ARE VERY PREVALENT IN THIS

also this is a VERY long headcanon!!

so last night vee got ill, he had been regressed in the afternoon with patton and he was acting much more fussy than usual - not being entertained by his cartoons, not having the energy to play with his rattle, pretty much constantly whining and pouting and he gets very wriggly when he's fussy

patton assumed it was because vee had been upset earlier that day. at one point vee started gripping his stomach, and patton assumed its because he was hungry and could smell the food roman was cooking

but when dinner came around no matter how hard patton tried he couldnt get vee to eat a morsel - he kept turning his head away from the food and whining. at one point patton and logan both managed to convince him to eat a spoonful but his face crumpled with a wince and it looked almost painful for him to swallow it. it was at this point logan noticed he had a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead

things fell into place quickly after that - logan checked his temperature and it was indeed slightly higher than was healthy, they noticed vee's hands were trembling and he was constantly on the verge of tears :(

while patton cleared away dinner and excused roman who wanted to go and craft in his room, logan took vee to his bedroom and tried to check for more symptoms, since vee was non verbal and unresponsive totheir questions. he tested his tummy by pushing it a little to see if the pain got worse when he released it (this is a test for appendicitis) but there was no reaction thankfully except vee being upset by logan not cuddling him. he checked his throat for any redness or infection, nothing.

vee's crying became more pronounced and eventually he was in constant tears, occassionally pleading 'mama mama' through sniffles and hiccups and whines of pain :(( Patton brought him a baby bottle of cooled tea made with fresh mint leaves since that is supposed to help stomach pains. though he left the room again since logan thought it was best not to crowd virgil. Vee's crying had dissipated but he was strangely silent and seemed almost loopy now. he only drank a little of the tea before he pushed it away with a gag.

logan immediately took him to the bathroom knowing what was coming, and sure enough vee threw up into the toilet, crying between gags. logan dutifully managed to keep vee in his lap the whole time and held his hair and rubbed his back, telling him he was such a good boy the whole time

Thankfully it didnt last long as there wasnt much in vees stomach to be emptied. he was shivering and sweating and flushed and had lost all energy. he wasnt even crying anymore, just whimpering under his breath. with a bit of a struggle logan managed to show him how to rinse his mouth out with mouthwash - though he had to hold vee over the sink and pat his back to make sure he didnt swallow it

during all of this patton wasnt able to help because of his heightened empathy, if he sees someone throwing up the likeihood is he will too and that wiuldnt be very helpful! so instead he drives to the store to pick up some medicine and ice pops - and comes back with half the store including some actual baby medicine smh - ((im actually begging u to read that linked post i think its so funny))

it was originallly meant to be logans night to put roman to bed but understandably patton took on that task instead. after roman was drifting off patton pokes his head into vee's room. he had hoped to find lo and vee asleep but they werent. they were lying in the dark with an in the night garden audio story playing on a portable speaker and with vees salt lamp and star night light lighting up the room in a soft glow.

logan offered a strained little smile and nod to patton as he stroked vee's hair and cuddled him close. vee was completely out of it honestly. his body was wholly lax against his mama, his lips were in a permanent pout and his eyes were puffy and wet. he barely even acknowledged his papa coming in, his teary eyes just settled on him for a moment then dropped back to the bedsheets without a reaction. he kept lifting his thumb up to suck on it but logan kept capturing it and apologising as he brought it away. Vee shouldnt suck on his thumb and logan doesnt want to give him a paci while he's ill. understandably, baby vee was completely miserable.

patton asks if logan thinks vee could handle a popsicle or plain crackers at the moment but logan disagrees. he doesnt expect either of them to get much sleep so he will make sure vee eats something in a few hours. with a gentle kiss on vee's forehead patton goes off to bed, confident that logan will be able to look after vee and will come get him if theres any issues

logan and vee really dont sleep much at all. Vee drifts off for a few minutes at a time then gasps awake from vivid fever dreams. logan keeps ice cubes in a bowl by the bed for vee to suck on if he needs to cool down and wraps a couple in a flannel to press to vee's head when his fever rises in the middle of the night.

around 3am logan jolts awake and realises he had drifted off. and vee isnt anywhere in the room. he panics momentarily, bolting up from the bed and dashing to the closet to see if virgil is in there - which he tends to do when he is overwhelmed - but then he hears sniffling from the bathroom.

he finds vee, no longer regressed, curled up against the side of the bathtub with his bangs clinging to his sweaty head. vee is the palest person logan knows but he looks positively grey at the moment

'can i help in any way?' he asks, aware that he doesnt need to baby talk at the moment but still eager to look after this bundle of miserableness

virgil just groans under his breath and clutches his knees to his chest. 'i.. i didnt know what to do with the..' he gestures vaguely to something on the floor

logan notices virgil, being not regressed anymore, had obviously wrestled off the diaper he had been changed into the night before and not known how to dispose of it

'its ok, ive got it' logan wraps it up in a bag and puts it in the trash can they have in the room for just this purpose

'sorry.. m stupid' virgil croaks

'You're not stupid.' logan says firmly as he washes his hands 'You're ill and probably delirious from the fever. it's alright virgil'

theres quiet for a bit longer, virge's head pressed against the porcelain edge of the bathtub likely in an attempt to cool his fever. logan stays there with him for a while just waiting. then suddenly virgil starts sobbing and buries his face in his hands.

'sweetheart, tell me whats wrong please' logan hurries to kneel beside him, lifting his hands away from his face. that wouldnt help the fever

'i dont feel well' virgil cries pathetically, tears rolling down his face.

logans heart breaks 'no, you dont. i'm sorry little one, i know its not nice'

at the nickname virgils thumb raises to his lips again, which logan hurriedly intercepts. 'i'll make you a deal, okay? you're allowed to use a pacifier, but you have to use the same one everyday until you are better. we will need to sterilise it every night too.'

vee sniffles and nods, then chokes 'm not a baby right now though'

'that doesnt matter. you dont need to be regressed to want one of your pacis, vee'

vee is unresponsive and starts scratching at his pyjama pants. logan gets a feeling he isnt saying something. then he notices virgil's pout is much more infantile than his adult ones. 'are you feeling little, baby?'

with a harsh shake of his head vee starts crying again. he whispers 'dont wanna be a b...' then cuts himself off and whimpers

logan cards his fingers through virgils damp bangs. he knows what virgils mind has jumped to. 'were you going to say you dont want to be a baby?' he lifts virgils chin up to look at him 'or that you dont want to be a burden?'

virgils pale lip wobbles 'same fing'

'no sweetheart, no no no,' logan sits on the tiles beside vee and pulls him into his lap. virgil goes willingly. logan rocks his baby as he says 'youre always always allowed to be a baby and its never ever going to upset your family. even if you're an adorable wonderful brave baby boy alllll of the time' he scribbles his finger on virgils rosy cheek and delights at the tiny smile it earns him. 'but especially when you're feeling yucky. you feel a bit yucky today dont you, little one?'

vee nods with a pout

'but yknow whats not yucky? softies and pacis and diapers and lots and lots of cuddles with mama' he holds virgil tighter to prove his point. vee sighs and drops his head to nuzzle against his mama's neck. logan feels he still has a slight fever. 'i know what might help you feel less yucky. does my sweet baby want a sweet ice pop?'

thankfully vee nods against his shoulder and grips tight onto his pyjama shirt, preparing for when logan lifts him up

he first makes sure to change vee into another diaper and even decides that he should wear one of mama's t-shirts as a light dress so he doesnt get as overheated by his pyjamas. at this point vee actually giggles for the first time pretty much all day as he feels the tshirt swish lazily around his legs. logan makes a mental note to observe whether little vee might want to try wearing dresses if the feeling sparks this much joy (at this point logan is unaware that vee has secretly been trying skirts and dresses in his room for months, and roman found out a few weeks ago, but vee isnt ready to tell the cgs yet)

by the time vee is in his diaper and mamas tshirt dress and has a paci and jiji clutched to his chest he is a lot calmer and happier. he's still very ill and exhausted and teary, but theres a tiny smile on his face instead of a pout. in the kitchen he picks a strawberry ice pop and it goes down well, logan convinces him to have a cracker too though vee is in such a young headspace by then that he is just sucking on it, which logan supposes is fine too

by the (real) morning vee is still regressed and has managed to have a couple hours undisturbed sleep. its not much but its better than nothing. logan didnt fare much better. by then vee misses his papa and asks for him and logan hands the responsibility over to papa patton, trustinf the other caregiver enough to catch up on a quick power nap himself

but yes, the main thing is vee thought being ill was a burden enough that he shouldnt be regressed too, but logan makes him see that its okay. vee is regressed pretty much the whole time he is ill over the next few days because its stressful and painful and its a lot easier to feel comforted when ur a baby

yeah! gosh that was long, theres probably a billion spelling mistakes! feel free to ask follow up Qs if i missed anything u wanted to know abt this event

[twinkstimulator]

For a writing request: Vergil in heat just furiously jerking off to the scent of fem reader and the idea of claiming her. (Love your smut btw! Its so cool to see you on Tumblr now!)

omg thank you so much! i got really inspired by this ask lmao

im experimenting with writing styles so i hope this reads well? let me know if you want me to redo it!!

Vergil knows you are not here; that the house is empty - save for him. There is no singing coming from the kitchen, no footsteps bounding down the hallways; that there is no one currently warming the other side of the bed. And yet, you are still here. He can still feel your presence wrapping around him, blanketing his spirit.

You’ve seeped into him completely, making a home within his home. Even in sleep, you’ve invaded him, taken over.

Vergil knows you are not here, and yet.

Your scent floats between the walls, through his living room, even by the flowers in his private balcony. He can still smell you on his clothes, on his towels, on his bed. He can still feel your body heat warming him up from the inside.

Even delirious in heat - Vergil knows he’s being hysterical.

And yet.

He basks in his little makeshift nest on the bed, surrounded by all the clothes you’ve left over at his place. Even all the little trinkets you’ve given him to help spruce up his modest home clutter the pillow. All of his towels you’ve used, the bedsheets you’ve slept with him in, even the throw blanket from the living room you loved to wrap around yourself when watching the television. Anything that still contained your scent encircled him on his bed.

In his hand, feather light and soft as air, is the pair of panties you wore last before you left that morning. He fists his aching cock, clenching cruelly on the leaking head of his length as he brings the used pair to his nose and breathes you in. Vergil shudders, gasping with every breath, greedy for it.

In the very back of his mind - in a tiny corner that’s still somewhat coherent - a part of him screams at him for stooping so low. That he’s above this, rutting like a beast alone and surrounded by chaos. That he should be embarrassed of fishing through his hamper so desperately for the little blue panties. That he should be ashamed of himself for pushing the gusset of your panties even further against his nose, his tongue lolling out like a mutt at your smell.

And yet.

He can see you, in his head, so clearly. You’re a mess beneath him, incoherent and babbling as you squirm on his thick cock. Your tight, silky walls clenching rhythmically around him, soaking wet and squelching with every thrust. Whimpering and crying -  begging for him as he drives in deeper inside you, wanting to implant the feel of his cock so deeply into your brain that even your body will instinctually recognise when he isn’t inside your tight, greedy cunt, pumping load after load of his love so deep inside your womb.

Vergil roars, body jolting and convulsing as he spurts hot, thick streams of cum all over his chest. He feels a tiny bit splash on the tip of his chin, dripping down onto his neck. Catching his breath, he looks at your ruined panties in his hand - now beginning to smell faintly of him.

He brings it up to his nose, his mind scrambling as your scent intertwines with his. It smells divine.

Vergil huffs it in, wanting to imprint the smell into his memory. He jerks his still-leaking cock once more. He smears more of his cum onto your panties and knows this won’t be enough.

He needs you here.

[anyu-blue]

~

I know a big part of it is the sleep deprivation.. again.. but I'm hella depressed.

Like overall I'm.. content? I guess? I have job. = Good. I have place to live. = Good. I have my game(s) I can play anytime I have time/want. = Good. I have appointments to try and get feeling better and keep trying and keep trying when I don't. = Good. I have Kizzy and will probably have him for at least 3 more years, if not longer. = Good. I have contingency plans in place for paying for my surgeries. = Good.

I've got a lot of good right now. And it's not that I'm ungrateful. I am EXTREMELY grateful. Considering my issues I've done extremely well. Even if some of it was on accident.

It's just.. well.. I'm tired, of course. Not sleeping well or much for days on end sucks. Especially because I could have, but people are going to keep living their lives and accidentally waking/keeping me up because they just don't think about my situation 24/7. Or even know it. Or consider it. Because life's too short for that according to, like everyone but me.

I'm sick of course. I've definitely tried the 'I'm doing great/not sick!!' mindset.. and it doesn't work.. cuz stuff HURTS. I don't have the energy to keep pretending either... And I don't think there was really a time I wasn't sick. Not in my whole life.. and It feels impossible to have any hope I'll ever not be physically sick... No matter what or how hard I try. Especially because I'm aging as all people do. Especially being forced to constantly check what I eat because if I don't I can hurt myself/make myself even more sick. Or starve, which hurts me too but is better than the alternatives. Especially being I have to rely on a healthcare system that looks down on what I can afford. Especially because what I can afford is so little. Especially because of our healthcare system being so politically charged people like me with the needs I have (even just replacing bones!!! Hello?! Our STUPID society forgets teeth are BONES and NECESSARY ones at that- but the instant you say teeth people literally don't give two shits, think you're just vain, and 100% brush you off. Even doctors.. and I have cried so hard over this stupid stuff and tried to rally and I'm STILL trying to save my own god damn life. I hate saying that's what I'm doing because I have some of that stupidity in me of thinking vanity... But I'm literally trying to save my forsaken life and be a LOT less miserable, and I feel so hopeless because only the little people who get it actually seem to want to help/be able to push aside that vanity thought and it hurts so badly to ask them to squeeze for me-- thank you if you're reading this and you've reblogged/shared my post. And I cannot thank you enough, and feel I owe you so much if you've donated... Every tiny bit helps. You and I are little people in the sense we don't exactly have $10,000+ to just throw around an have no worries about lol)

I'm.. also lonely? I guess? .. it's probably the best way to describe it. I don't like people all over me. Or really messaging constantly because moods change and People have lives.. but I miss... I want... Stress free interactions. Getting to spend time and go and do things. Not being alone all the time or missing out on everything. Time is meaningless pretty much right now in the sense I've missed all the holidays. 100%. No time spent celebrating or using the time or even seeing people. Im so much a damn adult and yet I still feel like crying whenever my siblings/cousins talk about last halloween because they had so much fun... They spent the day together in matching costumes by themselves at a park. And that's it... I was delirious from sleep deprivation when I saw them for the 5 minutes I did.. and stress because of my ex being the bastard he is to me. And work. So I couldn't join them. And it doesn't bother them in the least. It's such a happy memory for them and I am struggling to let go of the envy. They have so many days they spend together too.. remotely mostly, but they have so much fun. They wake me up alot with their calls.. and get pissed when I'm like hey guys I'm sorry but could you tone it down? I honestly stopped asking lately because they get so pissed and have even been like 'It wasn't me at all!!' even when I can quote what they said back to them and try to find anything and anyone else to blame... My little sister especially is CONSISTENTLY Telling me she has no idea what she even just said so I know it's bullshit it's not her.... And it just hurts. I try so hard. I drug myself to fall asleep almost every single workday now and I hate it. It's not good for you I feel. Says non habit forming but I just. Uck. And I have familiar, soft sound on. And I've shut my cat out. And I've consistently changed my bedding and cleaned and worn masks/covered my eyes, and done everything I can think of to try and make sure I'm going to sleep as long as possible. I don't go to bed and wake up early in the evenings to cook or spend time with them anymore because I'm trying to give myself more sleep. I don't stay up to see my sisters during the day anymore. Because I'm trying to give myself more sleep. I turn everything off (besides what I hope will help with the noise) at noon and try to lay down as soon after noon as I can every day. Anything blue gets covered or turned off. Everything has red light filters too to get rid of the blue.. but I can't seem to get more than a few jagged hours any given day unless it happens to be their early days where they take naps or I end up so exhausted I'm passed out at night when I should be awake so my shifts aren't so hard... So all that adds up to my being alone and lonely as my own damn fault. Because obviously I stopped making the efforts... The thing that hurts most about that is I was the only one making ANY effort at all to include myself in people's lives (still rings true for everyone in my own city at least- family, friends, the works).. and when I HAD to stop and told them why and asked if they'd be willing to meet me sometimes when it was hard for them (even like once a month fully planned out if need be, or spontaneous because I'm NOT picky)... I got yesses. I did. But. Do you think it ever once happened besides the very day we talked about it?

No.

I can and have gone through every single message and note I have (my memory isn't what it was after I got as sick as I did last fall so I try to keep track of everything instead of relying on my memory anymore)... The only person who even slightly tried was only doing so because he wanted every gd opportunity to beg me to sleep with him (pretty much- he wasn't subtle).. and I had to cut him out because he's not a good person in his own right, sadly. Which left me entirely alone in many ways. Which leaves me entirely alone unless I reach out first and sacrifice sleep.

The continuance of this unfortunately has contributed to my depression.. and the fact no one wants to be around cuz I'm a bummer. And the sleep issues have caused irritability I try so hard to control, but at certain stages I just lose my filters and don't want to say stuff or ramble but I also don't want to miss the opportunity with the person (usually one of my sisters) so stuff gets awkward and they don't like being around THAT. And I don't blame them. But I'd do?

Ugh... I know night shift is my fault... And is a major part of the problem... But I work it to avoid People who don't care about me and mine. To keep myself safe. To keep myself from having panic attacks. I'm doing a lot better with them... But I was breaking down so often at or about work it was getting out of hand... With night shift I'm not overwhelmed like that and I don't have to worry do much about my poor mind losing its sharpness as much. I can take my time more or less. And I get paid enough to survive. ....

I'm just depressed and I know it's on me but I wish I had more help than I do..

Wishing is also the problem. Instead of being happy with what I have.

Blargh...

[crewhonk]

Sunshine

Cop!Bucky X Reader

In which your best friend, Maria Rambeau goes into labour on your couch and the freeway has other plans to get you to the hospital

Warnings: Swearing, Traffic, labouring mother, fluff, cop!beefy!bucky, im suffering from intense baby fever this is pretty self indulgent, GREYS ANATOMY SPOILERS

Words: 3.5K

@nomadsgrogers i tagged you now you have to name yours and seb’s first daughter after me

Your knuckles were white with the grip you had on the steering wheels of your Jeep, the engine purring louder as you pressed your sneakered foot harder on the gas and passed several cars very illegally. You could feel the sweat beading at your temples and you heart pounding in your ears, blood rushing to them in a roar not loud enough to block out the screaming from your passenger side seat. 

Maria Rambeau had come over to your house earlier that day— something not uncommon from one of your best friends, and you greeted her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek and a whispered hello to her swollen stomach. You, Maria and Carol, had served in the Airforce in your late teens and early twenties both you and Maria had left to pursue goals which were just a little closer to Earth. She had curled up on your couch, barely hiding her discomfort as you handed her an iced tea— made just the way she liked. She had just been about to lift the glass to her lips when there was a sound of rushing water and she doubled over, pain electrocuting her body so deep it felt like the marrow in her bones was frying. 

You had immediately busted into action, quelling your tears of fear as you sprinted to your room for a change of clothes that may fit the very pregnant and soaked woman on your couch while yelling at her to time the spaces between her contractions. 

So, you were in the jeep now, racing down the freeway and drumming your fingers over the steering wheel, shushing Maria as she tried once again to apologize for ruining your couch. 

“Maria if you apologize once more I’m going to steal the birth certificate and change the name to dark roast coffee. Stop, I can get a new couch.” You bit, clenching your jaw as you swept back into the lane you were supposed to be. You thought you saw a flash of a middle finger but you genuinely couldn’t care less as the screaming woman in your car took precedence over all else. 

“Did you call Carol, yet?” You asked, trying to attempt to take your friends mind off the pain rocketing through her body. 

“Yeah, when you were in the bedroom. I think she screamed and swore and I’m pretty sure she said she was on her way to Brooklyn General. You know how she gets when she’s excited.” Maria smiled tiredly as the pressure lifted from her stomach. She sat back and patted the swell of her belly and looked down at it fondly. “You better calm down in there, soldier. Mama needs to get to the hospital before you meet her.”

“Yeah, and I already gotta get my couch replaced, I can’t afford to get the bloodstains out of the car.” You joked, winking over to Maria. 

“I’m sorry!” She cried, laughing before gasping as the felt another contraction build in her stomach. Instead of replying you just laughed and pressed your foot harder to the gas. 

___________________________

It was another five minutes of speeding down the highway when you merged onto the freeway and found yourself at your first problem. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god this is not normal!” Maria pressed her forehead against the dash and you looked over worriedly before placing your hand on her back and rubbing it in soothing circular motions. 

“I’m pretty sure it is.” You hummed, noticing the there were a lot of red tail lights ahead and slowed down the jeep, flinching when you heard a low moan erupt from somewhere in Maria’s throat. 

“Shut up yes it is.” She growled, biting her forearm to stifle her keens of pain. There was a moment of silence before the contraction passed and she looked over at you, eyes tired and regretful “Sorry for saying that.”

“Stop apologizing. You’re literally in labour. You could say anything and I wouldn’t be offended.” You hummed, brows furrowing as you tried to see if you could fit in the space between the cars and the blockade to see if you could bypass the traffic. 

Nope. 

“No, no, no. What is this traffic, are you kidding me?” Maria cried when she looked up. You pressed your lips together and pulled over as far to the side as possible. You clicked the seatbelt and looked at Maria very seriously. 

“Do. Not. Leave. This car.” You said, pointing your finger in her face. Maria looked like she would like nothing more than to bite it clean off. Instead of giving your best friend the satisfaction, you opened the door and stepped out of the car. 

“Y/N. Bitch! Where the fuck are you— OWWWW!” She keened and you hesitated to leave her alone. Instead of doing so, you kicked on a car door beside you and alerted the car of young adults to your presence. The driver smiled politely and turned down the music before rolling down the window and smiling. 

“What’s up, Miss?” He was cute. Young, innocent, perfect for guarding a labouring soon-to-be mother. 

“Y/N. Call me Y/N, please.” You dug in your bag and pulled out your wallet, giving them each as much cash as you could before asking them; “Would you mind watching my very best, labouring friend while I go and see if I can get us a ride to the hospital, please?” You begged. His eyes widened and he looked at his round friend and beautiful, but very nerdy friend before stuttering out an affirmation. 

“Great, her name is Maria. I’ll be back in five minutes.” You rushed before beginning the short jog up to the front of the jam. There were a few police cars guarding the wreckage and you winced at the sight of crushed metal before running to the nearest cop car and leaning forward to rest your hand on your need and catching your breath. 

“Ma’am, are you okay?” A grumbly voice sounded above you and you shot up, hands on your back and a tired smile on your face. All was very well until your eyes landed on his beautiful, gorgeous, almost offensive face. His hair was hidden with a combination of black police hat and bun, a light sprinkling of scruff on his strong jaw and crooked nose between two very intense eyes. There was a gap in his eyebrow due to a scar and his rough appearance had your knees weak. 

“I— um. Yeah. I’m fine. How— how are you?” You tried to smirk and lean against the cruiser, remembering why you were there before straightening up. 

“I’m fine?” He replied, a smirk on his face and eyes thoroughly amused. Sure, he had been flirted with on the job before, but not in this situation and most certainly not by someone who took his very breath away. “What can I help you with?”

Right. 

“I— I have a friend back there and she is trying to stop herself from pushing a watermelon-sized human out of a space which is not watermelon sized.” You blushed as if you were in fifth grade and just hearing about the works of childbirth for the first time again. God, why did the first cop that helped her need to be a walking Adonis? A very, very amused Adonis. No way it was legal to wear a uniform that seemed to be ripping at the seams trying to keep muscles on muscles at bay. 

“Jesus.” He swore, looking around and seeing that all of his coworkers were busy. “I— okay, where is she?” 

_________________________

You and officer James “Bucky” Barnes, as you learned his name was, jogged back t your parked car, all three teenagers had since piled into the jeep and were trying their very best to quell the pain Maria felt shaking her to her very soul. The tiny kid looked as if he was going to explode if Maria squeezed his hand any tighter. At the sight of you, each teenager relaxed into their seats and smiled at you when you pulled open the passenger side door. 

“Hey, soldier.” You smiled, wiping Maria’s curly bangs from her forehead. She looked up slowly, as if in a daze and offered you a weak smile. 

“Did you know these kids are going to graduate top of their class at Midtown?” She hummed, looking back fondly at them. The pain was making her delirious and you blinked stupidly as you heard Maria’s giggles turn into a low moan of pain. 

“Hey, Maria, shhh. You’re okay, you’re safe.” You pulled her head to rest in the crook of her neck and looked back at Officer Barnes who looked a little too pale to be normal. She clutched your sides, pulling your shirt up to dig her nails into the soft skin of your waist, crying low not the safe crook of your neck. He knew right now really wasn’t the best time, but he’d be damned if the sight of your waist covered in long, dark claw marks make some of the blood drain from his brain to his stomach.  

Once the contraction passed, you pulled her chin so she would look at you and you spoke very slowly. The gentleness and care you showed for the people in your life made Bucky’s heart swell and he had to very much remind himself that he was, in fact, at work.

“This if Officer Barnes. He’s going to take us to the hospital, okay?” You hummed, staking her hair and smiling softly when she leaned into your touch. Seeing this side of Maira was rare, but you were living for every minute of it. 

“M’kay.” You took her hand and helped her down from the car, the teens taking the hint and exiting the car, all but the small boy climbing into the old beater. Maria’s knees buckled once she tried to put weight on them, and Bucky acted swiftly, catching her and stopping her into his arms as if she weren’t a heavily pregnant woman, and, at the very most, just a toddler throwing a tantrum. 

Fuck.

The boy walked to stand next to you as Officer Barnes began walking away, in the same state shock as you were right now. 

“He’s like, a real-life Hollywood superhero, huh?” He muttered, patting you on the shoulder. You nodded before turning to him and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. 

“Thank you for everything you’ve done today. You’re a good kid— whoever raised you did a bang-up job.” You smiled, and he flushed bright red, sheepishly looking down at his feet briefly before pulling his phone from his back pocket. 

“I— would it be okay if I gave you my number? I just— I wanna know what happens.” You blinked before a wide smile spread across your face, handing him your own phone and waiting for him to give it back. When he did you looked at the name and smiled. 

“I’m sure she’d love to see the brave young man that held her hand in the freeway, Peter. I’ll be in touch, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

_______________________

You had all piled into the cop car quickly, Officer Barnes going to inform his Captain that he was going to take two women to the hospital before helping you both into the hard plastic seats of the back. You buckled Maria in as she went through another contraction and nodded at Officer Barnes that he was good to go. 

“You buckle up, too, Doll. Need you safe.” His gaze through the rearview mirror was intense and he didn’t miss the way you flushed pink at the nickname. He bookmarked that one to use again— there was no way he wouldn’t be seeing you after this day. 

The car pulled out, sirens and lights blaring as Bucky pulled out of the middle of the freeway, engine roaring as he sped his way to the hospital bay doors. Maria's contraction subsided and she slimed over to you, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers together. 

“You’re a real life genius, you know that? In another life, I’m pretty sure you were a superhero.” You rolled your eyes at her compliment and physical affection, smiling widely and letting your eyes flicker to the rearview mirror, meeting those same blue, intense eyes once more. He seemed to smile at MAria’s comment, agreeing with her. 

“I cannot wait to tell the little baby that this is how she got her way to the hospital.” You laughed, placing your hand on her belly and rubbing. Maria hummed. 

“She’ll be sick of it by the time we tell it at her graduation.” Maria laughed, and you heard Bucky let out an amused huff of air through his nose. 

“And her wedding.”

“And her wedding.” She replied, eyes welling up with tears. “This is really happening, isn’t it?”

“You’re gonna be a mama.” You whispered, a new kind of excitement in your eyes. 

“And you’re gonna be a godmother.” She replied, the same excitement lacing her tone. Bucky’s heart damn well swelled in the front seat at the interaction. There was a pause before Maria jut her chin in the officer's direction. 

“I’m pretty close to revoking Sam’s title as Godfather and giving it to this guy. He’s the real hero of the day.” She smirked, winking at you and wiggling her eyebrows. 

“I don’t think he or Riley would be too happy about that— you know how much they want a little one in their house.” You laughed, nudging her shoulder but keeping her close. 

“Oh, I’m sure they can wait for the next one. I’m pretty sure I’m in a little bit love with this guy.” Maria smiled at the bashful laugh she pulled from the officer. The warm smile and flustered pink on his cheeks making his hard exterior nothing more than a soft teddy bear. Or a street mutt that everyone adores. 

“Me too.” You agreed quietly, winking at the man and blushing when he wiggled his eyebrows. Before you could get caught in your own feelings once more, Maria began rocking back and forth, breathing heavily and clutching your shoulder tightly as another contraction ripped her in half. 

Bucky pressed his foot harder on the gas. 

____________________

The cop car careened into the ER bay, and a very familiar face runs out, worry deep get in his brow at the sight of two of his closest friends in the back of a cop car. Tony Stark meets the car as it stops, opening the door to see Maria Rambeau keening in pain and you with tired, worried eyes. He nods towards the familiar officer and pulls Maria from the car and into a wheelchair. Bruce runs outside at the sight of two familiar faces and immediately starts asking questions. 

“What the hell happened?” He half-shouts, meeting you and looking back at Maria who is now surrounded but the best team of doctors. Helen Cho breaks through the crowd with a smile and a wink and immediately sweeps her up further into the hospital. 

“She came over and went into labour all over my couch and then we got stuck in traffic and I managed to find this Officer to help us.” You rushed, eyes darting anxiously to see if you could see Maria or Carol or anyone at all. Bruce looks back at Officer Barnes and smiles, jutting out a hand for Barnes to shake. 

“Thank you, Officer. Maria is one of our people, and you helping her and Y/N means more than you know.” Bucky blushed and smiled, stepping away and watching as Bruce turned to walk back into his ER. 

“Thank you, for everything, Officer.” You say, voice quiet. The toll of the day has already made your shoulders slouch and your blinks slow, but you know you have so many more hours to go before baby is here. There was no way that you would be missing your Godbaby’s birth. 

“Bucky. Please, it’s Bucky.” He smiled, leaning casually on his car and crossing his arms. You lick your lips at the sight of the bulging muscles, and he subtly flexes at your reaction to him. 

“You tell all the girls to call you Bucky or somethin’?” You joke, swaying up on your tip toes and back down. 

‘Only the pretty ones who care too much about their pregnant friends screaming in my backseat.” He said, his voice low and rumbly and making your core tighten. You flush and your eyes dart around the ambulance bay nervously before settling back on him. 

“I uh— I should go. Make sure her wife is okay, and everything.” You say, voice sad and regretful and you relish in the way his shoulders drop in disappointment. 

“Yeah, you should. I’ll see you around, though okay?” He asks, watching you start to back away to the sliding doors. You smirk. 

“I’ll drive a little bit faster these days then. Maybe you can give me a ticket or somethin’.” You smile and he threw his head back to let out a roaring laugh that echoes against the buildings around you. God, what you would give to drown in that sound. 

“I’ll be lookin’ forward to it, Doll.” His voice is low and you can feel your face heat up under his intense stare and nickname. 

“Me too, Officer.”

_____________________

It’s almost six hours later when Monica Lawson Danvers-Rambeau is brought into the world, Carol on the left side of Maria and you on the right. Monica is six pounds, 9 ounces of pure squealing baby and she is immediately the centre of the group's lives. The first baby to be born in the friend group warrants a few life-altering feelings one would think.  

It’s almost midnight, and you’re curled up in one of the armchairs pressed into the corner by the window, Monica asleep in your arms. Her eyelids flutter with her very first dream and your heart feels like it's going to explode with love when you let one gentle knuckle brush her cheek as light as a feather. You could have stared at her forever, and would have too if it wasn’t for the son knock from the open door only a few feet away. 

Officer Barnes stands there, a grey sweater and dark jeans adorning his body, his hair loose and tucked behind his ears and he has a pair of sunglasses to keep the rest of the strands from falling into his face. There's a large, colourful bouquet of tulips and sunflowers and babies breath in his arms and you nod your head to the table beside the bed holding the sleeping wives. You stand and walk over to him, Monica making a tiny, squeaking noise in your arms before settling back in, nuzzling her face deeper into your chest. Bucky’s heart swells at the sight. 

“How’re you?” He mumbles, eyes never leaving Monica. To think she was inside his car only a few hours ago trying to escape blew his mind. She was so quiet. So peaceful now. 

“I’m the best I’ve been in a long time.” You replied honestly. Life had always given you a rough hand, but this-this made everything worth it. 

“That’s great to hear.” He whispered, leaning against the doorframe. You turn your head to yawn and your eyes look impossibly heavy. 

“This is little Monica. You probably saved her life, you know. You got us here safe and sound. Thank you, Officer Barnes.” You hum, smiling softly, and Bucky can feel his heart rate double in pace. He clenches his jaw nervously before looking at you hopefully. The sight of his puppy dog eyes peeking through his long, dark lashes has your knees weak. 

“What d’you say I wait around for as long as you need and I drive you home. We can stop at some 24-hour diner and get coffee and breakfast— I haven’t eaten in a few hours and I would like to see you some more.”

You sucked in a breath through your nose and let it out of your mouth quickly. God, he really went for the kill, didn’t he? You’d be lying to yourself if you said coffee and a beautiful date didn’t sound like the best thing in the world right now. 

“The nurses are due to check up on us in a few minutes if you want to wait? I don’t wanna just leave them.” You mumble, blushing, nervous gaze softening when you look at the little pink bundle in your arms. 

“She loves you already.” He smiles, gently brushing one long, thick finger over the small tuft of curly hair. She looked so much like her mother. 

You smile up at him— a smile of mischief and confidence. “Well, what’s not to love, huh?”

Buckys eyes flick up to your own and your breath catches at the intensity of his stare. His moist, plump lips are turned into a small smile when he says “I can’t find anything that anyone wouldn’t.”