#so my brain turns on a caution light when you say you love me

[cantbelieveyouregone]

hi i love u 💓 have a nice day

Thank you, random anon! I hope you have a nice day yourself!

But also I hope you're not parasocial about it! 😎👉👉

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Party Animal

Steve hated parties. And who could blame him? The infamous Halloween party of 1984 left more scars on his heart than he carried from all his other misadventures. Alcohol made people say thinks they buried deep inside, but then instead of owning up to them, they'd say "I was drunk", as if that was any excuse. So yes, Steve and parties didn't go together anymore.

And yet he stupidly decided to throw one anyway.

Look, they deserved it. All of them did - Eddie, Nancy, Robin, even Jonathan and Argyle, they all earned acting like actual teenagers for one evening. Steve wanted to see Eddie, now miraculously his boyfriend, just have fun, laugh, be silly. So a party it was.

It all went great - dancing, drinking, nibbling on mountains of Argyle's homemade pizza - but eventually they all got drunk. Not Steve, he just sipped one beer and kept an eye on everyone. Jonathan and Argyle were smoking outside, Nancy and Robin flirted in the most embarrassing way possible and Eddie...

Steve heard sniffling from the bathroom and his heart sank.

He didn't want to go there. He didn't want to be told that this was all a misunderstanding, that he pressured Eddie with his flirting, didn't want to hear he's bullshit again.

But no matter how terrified he was, he could never abandon Eddie. So he went in.

Eddie was leaning over the sink, wiping at his face and trying to control his breathing. "Shit..." he muttered and turned away from Steve. "Sorry, I...uh. I'll be there in a sec."

"Eddie..." It came out as a whisper. "Are...are you okay? Did I do something?"

Eddie just chuckled and pulled hair in front of his face. "Sure did," he mumbled.

And it made horrible sense to Steve. Of course he was the reason Eddie was crying. He couldn't help fucking up, he'd tried so hard to change but apparently it was 1984 all over again. So he took a deep breath and waited for the final blow.

"You're just perfect, Stevie."

Oh.

That wasn't what being broken up with sounded like. In fact, Eddie didn't seem angry at him at all. "...sorry?"

Eddie laughed, wet and high in his throat. "Like, you...you are too good to be true, you know? You throw a party for us and then you even don't drink so we're all cared for if anything happens? You...you give your best friend a green light to date your ex who shredded your heart to pieces? You invite the guy that your ex cheated on you with and his friend? You're just so good about it. And you're funny and so bitchy that I want to kiss you all the time. And I just...I love you so much, you know? And I've never felt that way about anyone and it's fucking scary, man."

Steve's racing thoughts came to a screching halt. Where he was too busy panicking and praying he'd still have time to fix whatever he did, now his brain settled on maybe I'm not getting broken up with? "So, uh..." he muttered as he watched Eddie try fix his eyeliner, "...there's, like, nothing wrong? Or maybe...do you want me to go slower? I know I can be a lot."

His boyfriend gave an incredulous laugh. There was no salvaging the eyeliner now, it was getting caught in Eddie's early crow feet, and Steve had never seen a more beautiful sight. "No, Steve. You're not a lot. In fact, you're just enough in every single way, but knowing that you're it for me, that good things can happen...it makes me terrified. I've never put all my drugs in a single lunchbox, or whatever metaphor you want to use for it, but with you I'm just throwing all the caution into the wind. And for the first time, I..." he stopped, chewing on his lip, "...I don't want to run away when I mess up. I want to stay, face the music and fix it. You're re-writing the Munson doctrine again and again and I just...I don't want you to settle for me, Steve. You are the whole package and I'm still cleaning all my messes. I guess today showed me that and I...yeah. Sorry about all this," he pointed at his tear-streaked face.

Eddie suddenly seemed so small, so insecure, and that wouldn't do. It woke Steve up from his frozen state and he took a step forward, cradling Eddie's face in his palms. "I'm not. Settling for you, that is." He was probably smudging the black even more, but Eddie would have been beautiful to him even fully covered in grime, and there were more important things to focus on. "Eddie, you keep talking about the Munson doctrine and being work in progress, but you don't see how you've thrown all the stuff I used to do out of the window, and I'm better for it. With you, I don't feel rushed, I don't have to perform or pretend. I can just live in the moment."

As he continued his speech, something strange started happening. Seeing people cry normally had a guaranteed effect on Steve - just one tear, quiet sob and he pushed his emotions down to be dealt with later or possibly never, someone needed him, and that was the priority. But now, staring at Eddie's wet eyes and shaky hands? He felt his own face crumbling and what better place to hide it than in Eddie's Metallica t-shirt. It smelled of cigarettes, pizza and the cheap laundry detergent that had come to mean home to Steve. "Sorry," he choked out. "Shit. I was...sorry, I'm supposed to be...you know. Consoling you. But I heard you crying and I thought...I..."

Eddie shook his head and tightened his grip on Steve's waist. "Oh Stevie. Whatever that pretty head of yours thought of, it's not happening. Unless it's kissing me, which duh, that's happening, if you want to of course, and staying with me to the point that you're sick of me."

Steve just whimpered into Eddie's shoulder, something that suspiciously sounded like "Now who's perfect, huh?"

His boyfriend just chuckled. "I guess that in a way, we both are. Maybe for each other?" If he'd aimed for self-deprecating tone, he failed. Instead, it was hopeful.

Steve didn't answer, but his embrace said it all.

They remained wrapped around each other for a long while, until Eddie whispered in Steve's ear: "how about we let the others celebrate on their own, hm? They won't be driving, their stuff is already in the guest bedrooms, and I hear your bed is wonderful this time of the year."

There was a muffled "yes" coming from Eddie's shoulder, and a few adjustments and "Good night!"s later, they found themselves in Steve's bedroom. Eddie managed to remove most of the rogue eyeliner, which was lucky. The time in the bathroom wasn't the last time he shed a tear that day, because as they were falling asleep, Steve said:

"You might be the first person who is dating the real me, and I'd like you to be the last one as well."

Tomorrow, he'd hold a funeral for the Munson doctrine. But today, he was going to wrap himself around Steve like a cuddly octopus and know that even if he doesn't manage to hold on tight the whole night, Steve would be there in the morning.

[thelov3lybookworm]

What did you say?

Summary: He needs to stop saying thank you.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1047

Warnings: none, unless you can say tooth rotting fluff and domestic cass x reader counts?

A/n: this is just adorable i loved writing this so much🥹🥹🥹

cassian is just so pookie and i love him sm 😭 someone get me a cassian please as a birthday git 😭

anyways, ENJOY🥹

(p.s: this is like the one fic i didnt discuss with berry my love becos i changed the plan for cass's fic like 5 days before posting and wrote this thang in basically a few hours lol i forgot to yap my bad sorry 😔)

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Being a five hundred year old fae, not many thing’s excited Y/n. But there were also a lot of things that did excite Y/n, and one of them was watching her husband fumble around trying to make her smile.

That morning, Y/n had woken up with a raging headache, the pounding in her head beating her brain like a wardrum. Add to the mix her hormones were all over the place at not finding herself waking up in the comforting embrace of her giant teddy bear.

She had been in a pissy mood all morning when Cassian returned home after his training session with the valkyries that lasted longer than usual.

Y/n had been glaring down at her plate of fried eggs that were not as runny as she liked, having lost touch with cooking them for herself because Cassian insisted on making her breakfast everyday when he walked in through the door to their marital home.

Of course, he did not realise that she was in a very bad mood and tried to joke around, trying to get her spirits to lift as usually that seemed to work.

"Looks like someone woke on the wrong side of the bed today, huh?"

Y/n turned sharply to glare at her husband who did not even have the decency to apologise for not being there for her when she woke with the headache that still refused to leave before making fun of her. The fucking audacity.

She had only glared at him for a long moment before turning and leaving to their bedroom, but that moment was enough for Cassian to catch onto the fact that she was mad mad.

It also allowed Y/n a glimpse of panic flashing in his eyes, for which she had felt guilty but she knew she needed time to calm down before talking to him.

And now, it was evening, and the puppy eyes Cassian watched Y/n with were making her heart melt.

How could someone be this adorable?

He’d been at it the whole day. Bringing her her favourite pastries from a nearby bakery, running her a hot bath and slipping a note into the bedroom from under the door, making her dinner. When she had come down after a relaxing bath, he had even offered her a back massage.

His voice had been so light, but she heard the softness, the caution in it.

And Y/n had almost agreed to that massage that sounded so heavenly, but watching her husband be sad over her behaviour that morning ate her alive, and agreeing to let him cater to all her wants without realising that she was not mad at him felt like she was using him.

It had almost been an hour since he had offered, and since they’d had dinner and moved to the living room. She had tried to make conversation with him, but he seemed lost in his own mind, offering her short responses before his eyes turned distant again.

Y/n did not need that bond between her and her husband to know that he was trying to figure out what he’d done wrong.

"Cass?"

He blinked, then looked away from her, his ears darkening before he met her gaze again. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare."

Y/n raised a brow. "And so what if you did?" his brows furrowed, so Y/n hastened to add in case he thought she was still mad. "I’m your wife, your mate. You can look however much you want."

"I… yeah."

Y/n sighed, then stood from the couch and walked over to the oversized armchair adjacent to the fireplace that Cassian occupied and settled down in his lap, trying to focus on formulating a coherent sentence and not on the way his warm hands immediately wrapped around her waist.

He watched her quietly, his eyes slightly wide.

Though those beautiful eyes fluttered shut when Y/n leaned in and kissed him.

It was not a full on kiss, if she had to be honest. It was just a tiny peck, even that faint brush of their lips sending pleasant warmth shooting through her veins.

"Thank you-" Y/n paused, watching her husband blurt out the two words with her brows tugging together.

"What- what did you say?"

He blinked, blood climbing up his neck. "I… thank you?"

Y/n could not help it anymore. She threw her head back and laughed, unable to control the shaking of her body.

"Cass, are you thanking me for kissing you?"

"Yeah? You were mad at me-"

"I wasn’t."

He blinked again, then leaned back in the armchair. "What do you mean- why were you upset in the morning then?"

Y/n sighed, dropping her head into the junction between his shoulder and neck. "I had a raging headache when I woke up, and then I wanted to cuddle with you but you were gone. I was just upset at that."

He exhaled, raising his hands to run through Y/n’s unbound hair. "I’m sorry love, I had to go. You know the blood rite is coming soon, and a lot more priestesses and illyrian women want to partake this year. Az’s been running himself ragged, and Gwyn’s been so worried for him."

Y/n pulled back to meet his eyes. "Don’t apologise for being you, Cass. I know you love to help and train, and I am not mad when I am blessed with the most amazing husband in all of prythian."

Cassian’s eyes turned glassy at that, and he softly kissed her forehead.

"Thank you-"

Y/n groaned, standing up again.

"I swear to the mother if you say that one more time I’m going to bite you."

HIs expression morphed into a serious one, smile fading, and Y/n was once again reminded of his position in the night court. He looked more like his scheming general self that her sweet, adorable husband who pouted everytime Y/n did not give him five more minutes of cuddles.

"Y/n… thank you."

Y/n burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter as she watched him leap out of his preferred seat and bolted up the stairs to their bedroom.

"Oh you cunning ass!"

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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Cassian Taglist: @moonlwghts @samslittlespoon @nickishadow139

[venuszn]

☆ : Bada Lee as the 5 Love Languages

Cw / Dom!Bada, Fem!Reader, Fingering, Cunnilingus, Use of vibrator, Bada using a strap, Exhibitionism, Degradation (but also praise), Light bondage, Orgasm denial, Nipple play, Overstimulation, Slight choking and Fluff , MDNI

Author's notes / I wanted to imagine how Bada would express each love language in both a romantic and sexual way sooo proceed with caution and enjoy ! (Also this is semi-proofread. My brain is fried. I wrote this in one sitting).

Wc / 3.2K words

Words of Affirmation

Fluff :

You and Bada were at the studio practising a routine that she was teaching you.

Bada was patient and gentle with you as she would give you small words of encouragement, praising you for the little things you did.

“Yes ! Good job, baby. You got it.” Bada was genuinely so proud and smitten by you.

However, you were struggling to properly execute some steps and you were quickly growing frustrated at yourself and Bada could easily tell.

“Don't get in your head. It's okay if you can't remember the moves right now. We can take a break.” 

You frown in disappointment at yourself and slightly pout your lips as you turn away from Bada - not wanting her to see you and slightly embarrassed that you were struggling to learn her choreo. 

Bada thinks you’re the cutest thing in the world and smiles at your little frown.

“I promise it’s ok, baby. You’re doing so well. Don’t be so harsh on yourself and listen to me because the way you were moving ??? Yeah - you don't realise how talented and hot you are.”

She takes your face into her large palms and smiles at you.

You stubbornly pout and do your best to avoid eye contact and Bada laughs.

“My talented, hardworking, cute baby.” She leans in and pecks your lips with a ‘mwah’.

“Can we go over the steps again ?”

“Of course we can. There’s no rush so don't feel bad. I know you’ve got this - you always blow me away.”

Smut : 

You break eye contact and harshly bite your lip as you try to suppress your moans.

Bada grabs your chin with her spare hand and forcefully turns your head to face her again.

“What did I say ?”

You struggle to get the words out in between your whimpers and moans.

“That if I look away you’ll stop . . .”

Bada smirks, “That's right baby. Don’t you wanna come for me ? All over my fingers, hm ?”

You feel her two fingers thrust in you again, curling up against your walls with the sound of your wetness. 

“And I wanna hear your pretty moans too, you know how I love it when you moan for me. So don't try to be quiet. Let me hear you.” She says as her thumb now plays with your clit.

You don't have to be told twice as you cry out in a breathless moan. You feel yourself approaching your limit and your walls clench around her fingers. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight baby. I love the way you feel against me. You’re close aren’t you ?”

You hate love how she knows your body so well.

You nod.

Bada bites her lip as you hold each other's gaze - her fingers thrusting into you faster.

“Come for me.”

Your legs shake and you cry out her name.

“Mmm, that's good baby. Let me take care of you, just relax and come on my fingers. You look so beautiful right now. Can't believe you’re all mine.” She talks you through your orgasm.

Pussy sensitive and clit swollen, you come on her fingers. Your body falls limp and you lay breathless and stare up at her.

Bada pulls her long fingers out of your tired hole and you see it glisten with your juices.

“Open up for me, princess.”

You do as she says and part your lips, her fingers then enter your mouth.

“Clean up for me.”

Quality Time  

Fluff : 

You were at Bada’s apartment curled under a blanket as you waited for her to come home.

She texted you that she was coming home early today and that she missed you.

You noticed that recently Bada has been doing her best to juggle both work and her relationship with you and you really appreciated her for that.

The door opens and in she comes.

Bada kicks her shoes off and discards her bag and coat as makes her way to you.

You playfully roll your eyes, “I hope you know you’re picking those up later.”

“Yeah, yeah sure whatever. Right now, I’m picking you up” She says as she takes you into her arms and places you on her lap.

You laugh and wrap your arms around her as she beams at you.

“I’ve missed you. I wasn’t sure if I was going to survive the day without seeing you.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

Bada’s phone rings and you see her screen light up, her lock screen a photo of the two of you.

Bada doesn’t hesitate and switches it off. She tosses her phone aside and refocuses on you.

“What if it was important ?”

“You’re more important. Talk to me about your day.”

You and Bada sat there till the evening sun, talking and laughing and basking in each other's presence.

Smut : 

Bada had taken you out on a date to the cinema.

You were so thankful that she always did her best to make time for you in her busy schedule. 

You look over to her only to find her already looking at you with eyes of adoration and a gentle smile.

“Why are you staring ? Pay attention.” You say playfully as you roll your eyes and pretend that you too were not just about to stare.

“I'm just appreciating how lucky I am to have you. That's all.”

You feel butterflies in your stomach and cross your leg over - trying to ignore the way she was making you feel as she looked at you.

Bada smirks and her hand goes to your thigh, pulling it away from your other leg as she uncrosses your legs.

Heat rises to your face . . . and elsewhere.

“What are you doing ?”

Her hand squeezes your thigh and slowly inches its way up. You weren't sure if you regretted wearing a skirt or were happy that you did.

“I’m showing you how lucky I am to have you.” 

She inches closer to your heat and rubs your folds through the thin fabric of your panties.

“You’re already wet. And just for me.” 

Bada lifts your leg up onto the armrest as she gives herself more room to play with you.

“Be quiet for me, hm ?”

Bada pushes your panties aside and drags a finger lazily through your wetness before arriving at your clit.

Her index and middle finger start rubbing you, slowly circling your bundle of nerves. Her fingers slide over your clit in a steady rhythm and you jerk your hips forwards chasing the pleasure.

Your breathing gets heavy and you clamp your lips shut. You look over to your girlfriend only to see her nonchalantly gazing at the big screen - as if her fingers aren't playing with your dripping cunt.

A smirk sets on her lips and she looks at you from the corner of her eyes. “Why are you staring, hm ? Pay attention.” 

You almost come right then from her words. Not believing the way she used your own sass against you.

Her fingers slide into your pussy lips swiping up your wetness before she carries on stimulating your clit - speed increasing.

You grip onto the empty seat beside you and grip onto Bada’s arm. 

You moan.

You were thankful that you were sitting in the very back row.

Bada hushes you, “I said be quiet didn't I ? Unless you want everyone here to know what a slut you are. Legs spread and pussy out ?”

You move your hips against her fingers, desperately aching for a climax and you feel it coming. 

“Bada, I’m close . . .” You manage to whisper.

You regret your words as Bada’s movements come to a stop.

You whine and buck your hips against her trying to get friction.

She removes her fingers and readjusts your panties and then your legs.

“We’ll continue at home, okay baby ?” She says with a teasing smile.

Acts of Service

Fluff : 

Bada knew that whilst she had the weekend off, sometimes you didn’t and today was one of those days. 

After waking you up with scattered kisses from your forehead to your neck, Bada greeted you with an ‘I love you’ before leaving you to start preparing for your busy day ahead. 

Whilst you were showering, Bada began making breakfast and your lunch. She knew exactly what you liked and for particular days of the week - especially if the day was going to be potentially busy. Bada knew you needed the energy to help you get through. 

She hums to herself as she glides across the kitchen, from station to station.

Bada loved to do little things like this for you.

You soon emerge from the bedroom and you smile and thank your girlfriend for making you food. Bada grins and kisses your head - the smile on your face is a thank you enough.

Soon after, you’re getting ready to leave and Bada hands you your coat - holding it out as she helps you put it on. 

“I’ll see you later.” You say as you grab your bag and keys.

“And I'll miss you.”

You smile up at her and quickly lean in for a kiss and you leave to start your day.

It’s later in the day and you decide you want your lunch. You open your bag up and you smile at yourself at the care your girlfriend put into making this for you. 

You’re so lucky.

A tucked away piece of paper catches your eye and your smile grows, knowing exactly what it is.

You open it up.

“Hi baby, I hope you have a great day today. Remember to take it easy and don’t overwork yourself ! Enjoy your lunch and I’ll see you at home. I love you. - Bada”  

Your heart swells with warmth and you fold it and tuck it away. Knowing you’ll store it with the rest of the notes she’s written for you.

Smut : 

You knew that actions spoke louder than words.

In Bada’s case, actions spoke very loud just like the moans and cries that left your lips as you feel her insert a third finger into you.

“Aww, it’s okay baby. I know you can take it.” Bada coos in faux concern as she indulges in your body and sweet cries of her name.

Your wrists were tied to the headboard and your back arched as you felt her fingers stretch you out, sliding against your sensitive walls and curling up inside you with each merciless thrust.

Bada knew how much you loved it when you were tied up, helpless and at her mercy. 

She also knew how much you loved it when she sucked on your nipples, loving the way her tongue felt.

So Bada, intent on servicing all of your desires and needs, eagerly attached her warm mouth to your tits. 

Her fingers still inside you as she slid her tongue over your bud, swirling it around and biting it gently before feeling it harden.

Her attention shifts to your other nipple and she repeats the same dance of her tongue as she sucks on your chest. Her free hand moves to play with the other - her thumb brushing over it and then rubbing it between her index. 

“I know you feel good right now, don't you ? You love it when I suck on your tits.”

Sparks of pleasure shoot through you and you nod your head - unable to speak through the stimulation.

“Use your words, princess.”

Bada knew just how to play your body like an instrument, relishing your melodic whimpers and moans.

Gift Giving

Fluff : 

It wasn’t your birthday or any other special occasion but here sat a small box wrapped with a bow. And the giver of said gift standing behind it with a big smile.

“Open it.” Bada says excitedly, almost bouncing on her feet.

Bada did this quite frequently. She loved to shower and spoil you with gifts. You insisted that she didn't need to spend money on you like this but she double insisted that she’s doing it because she wants to. And you know that there's no point in trying to change her mind.

You open the small velvety box to see a dainty necklace with the letter ‘B’ carved in a gentle font. 

You awe at it and Bada’s grin widens if it's even possible.

“It's so beautiful. Thank you so much.” 

She says nothing and reaches into her neckline to pull out her own necklace from under her shirt.

Your first initial dangling from as it rests against her chest. 

Your lips part and you stare up at her. “Stop, Bada you’re so sweet.” You say as you move to hug her.

She wraps her arms around you and then takes the necklace from the box.

She takes your waist and guides you to the mirror and stands behind you. 

“Hold your hair up for me, baby,” She mutters in your ear.

You watch as she gently adorns your skin with her token of love for you, clasping the necklace in place. She then hugs you from behind, admiring you through the reflection before placing her soft lips against the back of your neck.

“So beautiful.”

Smut : 

You and Bada are currently out and about doing some shopping.

You walk with a slight but pleasuring discomfort as you walk ahead of the taller girl almost wanting to escape the torture that she has you under.

Bada smirks at you from behind. One hand holding your shopping bags and another in her pocket. 

She turns it back on.

Your body jolts slightly and you bend forward a little - attempting to compose yourself.

The gift your wonderful, caring and selfless girlfriend gave you - was a vibrator. 

“Bada . . .” You whine but to deaf ears and a cocky smirk.

“Hm, what's wrong baby ?

You breathe out heavily and do your best to not draw attention and continue walking.

“Oh ? So you’re ignoring me now ?”

She turns up the intensity.

You almost fall to your knees.

“Fuck, Bad please . . .” You beg in a whisper.

“Please what ? You wanna come right here ? Let everyone know that I stuffed your cunt with a little toy, hm ?”

You shake your head in a no, “P-please, not here. I can’t take it anymore . . .”

She bites her lip as she drinks in your desperation and pleads. 

“C’mere.”

Bada takes your hand and drags you to an empty changing room.

She locks the door and wastes no time in kneeling down, pulling your panties to your ankles and hooking your leg over her shoulder - your needy cunt glistening and on show just for her.

She spreads your lips with her index and middle finger, adoring the sight of the toy as it continues to vibrate.

“F-fuck, Bada please I need you.” You beg as you grip onto the walls.

“Not too loud princess, I haven't even started.” 

Bada dives in, tongue attacking your clit. Her wet muscle glides against you, circling and worshipping your throbbing nerves. Her hands grip onto your legs, steadying you as she ravishes your poor cunt. 

Tears of pleasure fill your eyes and you slap your mouth shut with your palm. The overstimulation of her tongue and the vibrator making you jolt and squirm above her. 

“You’re such a pretty whore for me aren't you ? Letting me stuff your cunt with this toy but that's still not enough for your needy hole is it ?”

Bada sucks on your clit and your legs damn near give out.

“Love how you let me slut you out. Pretty lips all for me . . .”

You feel your walls contract around the toy inside you and the tightening of the knot in your stomach finally snaps.

You bite your fist, doing your very best to not scream as you come around Bada’s tongue.

Bada eagerly licks you clean and gets to her feet, towering over you with her swollen lips glossed with your juices. 

She then leans down and presses her lips to yours, tongue sliding into your mouth as you’re made to taste yourself.

“You did amazing, princess. Gonna reward you when we get home. Got plenty more gifts for my baby”

Physical Touch

Fluff : 

It was the morning of the weekend and you were making breakfast for Bada and yourself. 

You left Bada in bed to carry on sleeping as you knew she just had a busy week. 

So it took you by surprise when you heard a yawn followed by the call of your name as your sleepy and messy haired girlfriend staggered into the room in search of you.

“You’re up sooner than expected.” You say as you flip over the pancakes. 

Bada’s hands, like magnets, immediately attach themselves to your waist as she hugs you from behind. Her face buried in your neck.

You giggle at her clinginess and rest your head against hers. 

“Good morning to you.’

‘Good morning, baby.” She mumbles into your neck and you giggle and try to brush her off but she holds you tighter, whining a dramatic ‘noooo’.

You don't know how you do it but you manage to finish making breakfast with a very large puppy dog on your back.

You’re both sitting at the dining table facing each other and Bada makes sure that her palm rests comfortably over your hand as you both eat. 

You gaze up at her and smile to yourself. You love this side of your girlfriend. Yes, Bada had an air of intimidation and coolness around her most times, but when you waved that away all that was left was a soft and cuddly koala bear who apparently had grips of steel. 

Smut : 

Bada loved it when you were under her. 

Her strap thrusting in your cunt as she gazed at you from above - fingers interlocked as she fucked you senseless.

Just like right now.

Your sweaty bodies moved with the rhythm of her thrusts and you felt her slide her palms into yours, pinning your arms besides your head as she locked her fingers with yours.

She looked down at you with adoration, loving the way your face contorted with pleasure all because of her and the way she touched your body.

“You’re so beautiful, baby.” She grunts as her strap bottoms out with each thrust - your pussy sucking her in. 

The air is filled with the sound of skin slapping, moans, cries and praises of worship from your girlfriend. 

“You’re taking me so well, princess. You feel fucked out ? Good. I’m all you should be thinking of right now.”

Bada switches positions, manhandling you almost as you now sit on top of her.

“Be a good girl and ride me.”

Her hands leave a ghosting trail from your back to your sides before they grip onto your waist - guiding your hips as you ride her strap.

“Mmm, just like that. I know you feel good as fuck right now.”

Bada’s hand travels from your waist to your chest, where she teases your nipple, thumb ghosting around it before continuing upwards to your neck.

She wraps her fingers around your neck, enough to drive you crazy as you rocked yourself on her strap.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you ? Keep fucking yourself on my strap like the pretty slut you are.”

Tag list / @princhii , @lil-elliesgf , @wiselight! If you’d like to be tagged for future Bada fics lmk !!

[angelsassassin]

All Over Again • Spencer Reid x reader (Prologue)

Spencer Reid was a man of science, but that didn’t stop him from thanking God.

Details: fem! reader wife and mother x father and husband Spencer Reid

AN: Hi Tumblr!! This is my first post, and I am so excited. I absolutely love and adore Spencer Reid, and I know many of you do too. A little warning, this isn’t a standalone. It can be read as one, but this is essentially a prologue to a little series I want to do. The series will basically follow reader and Spencer through their lives; from when they first meet, to when they start to build their relationship, to arguments, when Spencer goes to prison (wink wink), and how they deal with that.

Caution: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. This series is meant for 18+ ONLY!

Warnings; smut (I sincerely apologise if it is not the best), breeding kink, Spencer being a dad (AH), fluff (so much fluff).

I really hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it. If there are any questions about this series, let me know.

Spencer Reid was a man of science; the thought that people could believe in a higher being and even pray to them had always baffled the man. He had met many people that believed in God or some other version of him, and yet he himself could never bring himself to believe. 

And yet, when he met you almost twenty years ago, he started to believe that maybe there was a higher power, one that led him to you. Every day since he had known you, he found himself thanking God or whoever was listening to him for you. 

That increased tenfold after he came back from prison. It was hard for him, not only because he knew he was innocent and being punished for something he didn’t - and realistically could never do - but also because he was away from you. After he came back, he changed; he was a little more broken than he was before, but it pushed him to become stronger, more confident and more protective of what he had. 

That’s why almost a year after his conviction, he proposed to you. You, of course, accepted, wanted nothing more than to be with him for the rest of your life, and in classic David Rossi fashion, once he heard the news of your engagement, he planned the wedding at his mansion, marrying the two of you not even a month after your engagement. 

A few months down the line, you discovered you were pregnant, and Spencer was over the moon; he had wanted to be a father since way before he even met you, and that need for a family only increased once the two of you established a relationship. 

Now, almost ten years later, you were living in bliss. Your son, Oliver, was the light of your life, and Spencer’s. After Spencer discovered you were pregnant, he took a step back from the BAU, deciding that no matter how much he loved his job, he loved you and your unborn child more, and he wanted to be there for all the moments, which is why he became a full time professor at the FBI academy, only helping his team out when he was absolutely needed, and never travelling along with them for cases. 

You had just gotten home from work, setting down your belongings when the smell of food entered your sinuses. “Spence?” You called out. You heard a quiet ‘in here’ coming from the kitchen, so you made your way over, discovering Spencer making dinner. “Hey, baby.” You smiled as you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around him. 

“Hey, angel. How was work?” He asked as he turned his head, placing a kiss onto your head. 

“Not too bad. Janice wouldn’t shut up about her vacation.” You say with a laugh as you walk over to the kitchen island, taking a seat. Spencer chuckled and shook his head. 

“Typical.” He replied. “Ollie is upstairs doing some homework, by the way.” He added, and you nodded. 

“I swear that boy loves school more than any other child I’ve ever met.” 

“I was the exact same.” Spencer laughs. “To be fair to him, he did inherit my brain.” You nod in agreement. 

“That he did.” You chuckle. “Hopefully, the next one will inherit something from me.” You smile. Spencer looks over at you with a questioning look. 

“Next one?” He asks, forgetting about the food he was cooking. “I didn’t think you wanted another one.” 

You shrug in response. “I mean, Ollie is getting older now, and I don’t know. I guess I just miss a little baby running around the house. Spencer smirks as he walks over to you. 

“So you want another one?” He asks as he brushes a hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. 

“Do you?”

“Yeah, I do.” He whispered. “Now that I really think about it, I do miss seeing you carrying my child.” He smirked, a look in his eyes, and you knew exactly what it was; lust and possessiveness. You let out a chuckle. 

“You know, in order for that to happen, you have to get me pregnant first.” 

“Oh don’t you worry, angel. I’m going to make sure I fill you up every night until I know for certain it sticks.” 

Before you can reply, you hear the stairs creaking, signalling Oliver was coming downstairs. He comes into the kitchen, and upon seeing you, he smiles. “Mom!” He happily chirps, walking over to you and hugging you. 

“Hey honey, how was school?” You ask him, leaning down and kissing his head, which holds the same head of hair as Spencer’s does. 

“It was okay. Eric and I got to sit in the library during maths.” He spoke gently. The school was very accommodating when it came to your son, knowing he was incredibly smart and whatever they were teaching, he already knew. Most of the time, they’d let him sit in the library and read his books if he felt like he wasn’t being challenged enough. Despite the offer for him to be moved up several grades so that he could be challenged, you and Spencer decided it would be best for him to stay with kids his age for now. 

“Is he finally starting to understand the stuff you’re teaching him?” You ask, knowing that Oliver took great pride in teaching his friend all about maths, considering Eric wasn’t the greatest at it. Oliver simply nodded in response, moving to sit next to his mother. Spencer moved back to the dinner, adding the final touches before announcing it was finished. 

After dinner, the three of you were laying on the couch, watching TV, with you cuddled into Spencer’s side while Oliver had his head on your lap. Spencer’s arm was around you, playing with a few strands of your hair. 

It was almost like routine; after dinner, the three of you would always lay on the couch together, watching whatever mindless TV show was on the news. You had spent the majority of dinner talking about each of your days, so a comfortable silence had taken over you, apart from the few laughs that escaped Oliver as he intently watched the show. 

You looked up at Spencer and smiled. He looked down at you and returned the smile, mouthing ‘I love you’ to you. You leaned up, capturing his lips in a sweet kiss. When you pulled away, you replied to him, mouthing the words back to him. Spencer looked down at his watch. 

“Ollie. It’s almost bedtime, buddy.” He announced. Oliver sat up and looked at his parents.

“Okay. Goodnight, I love you both.” He said tiredly. You and Spencer had always made sure that Oliver would grow up in a house where he would never have to feel ashamed or embarrassed to say the words ‘I love you’ to his parents. 

“Love you too, my beautiful boy.” You say as you move closer to him and kiss his head. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth.” Oliver nodded and began walking upstairs, getting ready for bed. Despite only being nine years old, he was very smart and could perform his nightly and morning routine without any help. 

That left you and Spencer alone on the couch, and Spencer was quickly reminded of your earlier conversation. “So… when should we start trying for another baby?” He asked, the desire he felt clearly evident in his words. 

You let out a chuckle, and moved to lay down opposite him, putting your feet onto his lap. “Whenever you want.” 

A smirk formed on Spencer’s lips and he moved your legs off of him gently, moving to lay on top of you, placing his hands on either side of your head to stabilise himself. 

“How about right now?” He asked as his dipped his head into the crook of your neck, kissing and biting at it. 

“On the couch?” 

“On the couch, on the kitchen counters, on the table, in the shower, in our bed….” He began to list, a gasp leaving your mouth. “I’d do it everywhere if you’d let me.” 

You smiled, remembering how insatiable your husband could get sometimes. It was no secret he absolutely adored you and the family and the life you had built for each other. After everything that he had been through, he couldn’t be more thankful that he was now able to live a happy life, one full of love and laughter. He lifted his head up and rested it against your forehead. 

“We could even do it in the garden if you wanted.” You let out a chuckle at his words. 

“I don’t think our neighbours would like that very much.” You reply, causing him to shrug and smile. 

“I don’t care. As long as my girl is happy and loved and thoroughly pleased, I’d do anything for her.” He says softly. 

“Your wife, Spencer. Not your girl.” You corrected him. 

“Of course. My wife.” He says leaning down to kiss you. It was a kiss full of love and passion, something that despite being together for so long, never left. Every time Spencer kissed you, it was like it was the first time he was kissing you all over again. You never complained, loving the fact that he still gave you butterflies. You moaned into the kiss, immediately causing Spencer to use one of his hands to lift up leg around him. 

“God, you’re so beautiful.” He mumbled against your lips, as his hand began to travel between you two, slowly beginning to unbutton your jeans. 

“Spence… what if… what if Ollie comes downstairs?” You breathe out, suddenly starting to feel your arousal and your need for him overcome all your senses. 

“He won’t.” Spencer groaned, finally achieving his goal of unzipping the jeans and slowly moving his hand under your underwear. As soon as his fingers come into contact with your clit, you let out a gasp. “So fucking wet for me already, angel.” He groans again. He begins to move his finger around your clit, stimulating your nerves to get you more wet. As he does so, you begin to feel his cock pressing into your other leg, begging to be released for his trousers. He slips his finger further down, and pushes it into you. 

You let out a moan, making sure to keep your volume down, but also knowing how much Spencer loved hearing how he made you feel. He added a second finger, and you began to feel the pressure building in your lower stomach. You were so close, and he knew it. He knew your body like he knew all the books he’d read throughout the years; he memorised every moan, every scream of his name, every twice or movement you made when he was giving you pleasure. He knew exactly what to do, and he never grew bored of it. 

Just as you were about to announce your impending release, he removed his fingers, bringing them to mouth and sucking them clean. You let out a deep sigh at the loss of contact. 

“Don’t worry, angel. You’ll come soon. I just want you to come on my dick, not on my fingers.” His words made a shiver run down your spine, and he quickly began to take off your jeans and panties, removing his own trousers and boxers afterwards. You looked down, seeing how painfully hard he was. “Like what you see?” 

“Definitely.” You replied with a smirk. Despite the thousands of times you and Spencer had fucked or made love, you were still always left breathless upon seeing his dick; it was big and girthy, and it fit inside you perfectly, almost like it was specifically made for you. 

Spencer moved back on top of you, settling down between your legs. His hand pumped his dick a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. 

“Tell me what you want.” He demanded, teasing your entrance. 

“You. I want you.” 

“No, you know what I mean, angel. Tell me what you want.” He almost spat. 

You tried to think of what he wanted you to say, and then you remembered why you were in this position in the first place. “I want you to fuck a baby into me.” You sighed, and almost as quick as you finished speaking, Spencer dove into you, groaning at the feeling of being inside you. He placed one of his arms next to yours, leaning onto his elbow for support, while the other hooked underneath your leg, bringing it up so he could move deeper inside. 

His thrusts were slow at first, letting you adjust to him. Because of how big he was, every time you had sex, it would take a little while for you to get used to him again. Once Spencer felt your hand move to his shoulders to dig your fingernails into it, he smirked and began to quicken his pace, fucking you faster and harder. 

You couldn’t help the moans that left your mouth, which only fueled Spencer’s desire for you. “Fuck, angel, you feel so good.” He moaned into your neck, kissing it as he fucked you. 

“Spencer…” You moaned, tangling your fingers into his hair and pulling at it. He let out a groan into your neck, biting down. 

“Fuck, if you do that, I won’t last long.” He breathed out as his thrusts became quicker and harder. 

“Oh god, baby, so close.” You moaned out, too overcome with pleasure to be able to form a coherent sentence. 

“Come for me baby, I’m almost there.” He moaned, and that was all you needed before the pressure in your stomach exploded. You threw your head back in pleasure, covering up your mouth to silence your moans, not wanting to wake up or alarm your son. 

Spencer shuddered at the feeling of you clenching around him. “Gonna let me fill you up, huh, angel? Gonna let me put another baby in you?” 

“Yes, yes, please Spencer, put a baby in me. Fuck a baby into me.” You plead. 

Spencer lets out a groan as his thrusts begin to slow down, losing himself in you as he comes, shooting every last drop of his load into you. He brought you closer to him, and you wrapped your arms around him. He stayed inside of you, not wanting to let any of his cum leak out of you. His breathing was starting to come back to normal, just as yours was too. He lifted himself up just enough to look at you. 

“I love you so much, angel.” He whispers before leaning down and kissing you. You smile into the kiss. 

“I love you so much, baby.” You mumble against his lips. He releases your mouth from his, you letting out a groan and he chuckles. 

“Come on, we need to clean you up and then we need to go to bed.” He says, pulling himself out of you, and you shiver at the loss of him. 

After carrying you upstairs to your en-suite bathroom, cleaning you up and letting you pee, he helped you get into your pyjamas and laid you down on the bed, lifting the covers and getting in next to you, pulling you closer to him. 

“I’ll pick up some pregnancy tests tomorrow on my way home from work.” He whispered against your head, his arms wrapped around you. You nod, looking up at him. 

“It might take a little while for us to actually get pregnant, you know.” You say to him, and he shrugs. 

“It doesn’t matter how long it takes. As long as I get to come home every day to you, fucking you until you can’t walk, I’m happy.” He smirks. 

You let out a chuckle. “You do that anyway.” 

“Yeah, but this time, I’ll be able to come home one day to see you with a belly and our little baby inside.” 

Four Months Later 

Spencer came home from work, a breath of relief leaving him and he closed and locked the door, placing his keys and bag down, heading straight to the kitchen, where he placed the takeaway chinese bag down. The house was quiet. He knew Oliver would still be at school, but his wife technically should be at home, but he couldn’t hear anything. 

“Angel? Are you home?” He shouted, hoping his voice would reach all corners of the house. He listened carefully, and heard a small noise coming from upstairs. His face twisted in confusion as he marched upstairs, searching every room before walking into their shared bedroom. “Are you in here?” 

“Bathroom.” His wife replied, and Spencer finally felt himself relax. He opened the door to the bathroom and saw you sitting on the counter. “Hey.” You smile up at him, opening up your arms. 

Spencer smiled as he moved closer to you, positioning himself between your legs and wrapping his arms around you, just as you did the same. 

“Why are you in here, angel?” He asked against her neck. 

“Well, I actually have something to tell you.” You said, unwrapping your arms around him. Spencer moved back a little, confusion once again taking place on his face. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong, baby.” You smile.

“You woke up this morning feeling sick, angel. When I left this morning, you were in here throwing up, and now that I’ve come home, I find you in here again.” He says, worry evident in his words. 

“Well, about that…” You smirk as you reach behind you, picking something up but hiding it in your hands. “After you left, I started to think… so I went out… and now I know why I felt so sick this morning.” You say as you reveal a pregnancy test in your hands with a smile. 

Spencer’s eyes widen as he looks down, seeing the very clear and obvious plus sign on the test. He looks up at you and grins. “You’re pregnant.” 

You nod happily. “We’re having another baby.” 

Spencer instantly wraps his arms around you, picking you up and leading you into the bedroom, placing you gently down on the bed. “My beautiful angel, my wonderful wife, is giving me another baby.” He chuckles as he moves on top of you, kissing you deeply. 

Spencer was definitely a man of science, but that didn’t stop him from thanking God that night while you were asleep next to him later that night. He thanked God for letting him go through everything he had to go through, because he knew he’d go through all of it over and over again, as long as he knew he’d be here. As long as Spencer was able to spend every day married to you, loving you and your children, he’d do it all over again. 

~

Please share some love (I don’t really know how Tumblr works yet), and let me know if you have any requests or questions.

Love, AA

[criminalamnesia]

Okay okay, now hear me out.

Instead of reader not forgiving them...

They do something that makes the team feel even worse...

They *understand*.

*****

Imagine reader waking up in that hospital bed, squinting at the bright lights above and feeling the cables and tubes and oxygen mask, when they suddenly remember everything.

They squirm against the bed as they hear a deep and soft voice, "Calm down, kid. It's okay."

Price is next to the bed, sitting a distance away in a chair. He looks exhausted, thick circles under his eyes.

(Basically everything that was in the actual fic happens, except when Price begins to apologize, reader instead goes:)

"It's okay Price..." They whisper in a cracked voice.

The room is quiet as Price processes what you said.

They repeat, "It's okay..."

"It's not okay, love," Price says in a quiet demand. "We were wrong... You were framed like you said you were..." he leans back in his chair with a tired and sad sigh. "We didn't believe you and you suffered for it-"

"Captain," they interrupt gently, "I understand why what happened, happened." They drop their head slightly to the side, looking at Price sideways. "It was a tough situation, you couldn't take the risk to trust me. You're the Captain, you have to make tough calls, you have a team to protect. I understand."

Prices brow creases as he frowns deeply, "You were a part of that team. I was supposed to protect you too, why are you not angry-"

"I am angry." They say almost venomously. "You are not an easy man to trick, Price." they state in a slightly louder voice, hoping their voice doesn't fail them. "Neither is... neither is Simon. I know that whatever evidence you were given, was *good*. Believable."

They swallow thickly before continuing, "I *am* angry, but I understand that you needed to remove me from the team, I understand that you had to treat me with caution and suspicion. I'd have done the same..." Their eyes unwillingly starts brimming with tears as they still feel the ache of their injuries. "The torture? Captain, I-" their voice finally cracks and the tears spill.

Price moves to stand up, likely to comfort them, but at their wince at his movement he freezes. He slowly sits back down, clenching his jaw.

Price knows it's not that simple. They were a part of the team, but the boys all turned against them so easily, and instead of doing what they should have, and held them in isolation, let caution take over, they got angry instead. The men let their anger get the best of them to the point of torturing someone they trusted. And Price says this to them, but they shake their head.

"I know it's not that simple sir, I'm the one with the injuries. I know. But you believed it was the right thing to do. It's not fault. You were lied to, and you believed it." they take a breath to calm their tears.

Price looks down at his hands, "We don't deserve this sympathy, kid. You didn't deserve to be tortured for something you didn't do. But you were, we did."

"It's not about deserving, sir. No one deserves anything and I owe no one anything. I get that, but this is a tricky situation-"

"You shouldn't forgive us this easily." Price bites out as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "We don't deserve that."

"Then isn't it a good thing that's my choice to make and not yours?"

Price looks up to meet their eyes as they smile sadly at him.

"And don't call me naive, sir. I can understand that I'm being kinder than I should be. I have the right to be angrier, to scream and curse at you. This kindness isn't naivety. I know that I have the right to be cruel. But just because I *can* be more cruel, doesn't mean I have to be."

*************

(My brain isn't properly letting me write what I'm seeing in my mind, but yesterday I had a very cinematic daydream and the dialog is just not coming to me again, I'm for sure writing it whenever it comes to me again

It just makes me feel like that hurts Price and the team infinitely more, knowing that despite the awful pain the men made reader feel, they're being kind.

The men tortured reader for things they didn't do, refused to give understanding. And here reader is, giving understanding for awful things that *were* done to them

Imagine the psychological impact that'll have on the team, especially Simon, who in this daydream of mine is eavesdropping from just outside the room, because he's too afraid to look you in the eyes.)

oooooo your mind!! it’s so powerful. I could definitely see this as an au scenario in the traitor fic universe!

(also this is what simon wants lol. not necessarily forgiveness, but understanding. understanding that they did what they had to do, what they thought was right (even if it wasn’t)).

[anotherfcknschlattsimp]

baby brother!Charlie getting wood late at night and coming to wake you up for help because hes just so horny for you its pathetic and he doesnt know what else to do with himself

oh how i love you brother!Charlie

im french kissing your brain pookie <3

hey, ignore that it's mid-november, here's a halloween post

genderfucked reader, im indecisive

cw: somno, incest (WAHOO), dubcon but everyone's fine with everything, of course one of my first works back is part of the sibcon charlie au (as far as i know, created by @moistcl1tikal-ao3 )

he couldnt stop looking at you all night, your cute little whore-for-halloween costume hugging you just perfectly. but he had to save those thoughts and memories for later!

except later did not happen, he crashed as soon as he laid down on his bed after the parties and events you dragged him to so you could show off your cute, nerdy lil bro

so, naturally, he woke up about 2 hours later with the hardest boner of his life the month. all because he kept dreaming of getting to touch you under your booty shorts

poor boy was still too tired to wanna deal with it though! so he tried to go back to sleep, deal with it in the morning, but he couldnt get comfy or stop thinking about your head between his legs

plan a failed, time for plan b: choke the chicken

he tried so hard, looked up all his favorite pornos, his favorite pictures of you, a pair of stolen panties, he pulled out all the stops :/ and it just made him ache and throb more for you

so final plan, the riskiest plan, wake you up and beg on his goddamn knees that you aren't too grumpy

he knew you werent the nicest person ever when you got woken up, especially when somewhat hungover, so he tread with caution

even got a towel, pillow, snack, and bottle of water for you :(

busts out every petname in the book when he tries to shake you awake

"sissy.. sis? brother?? dearest sibling??? bubba???? 🤨 you alive motherfucker???" the shaking picked up speed and intensity, no longer worried about you being mad, just half convinced you passed away in your sleep

"geddafuqouddaherecharlee" you mutter, smacking him away but still rolling over for him to join you, thinking he had a nightmare or something

charlie slid into bed behind you, careful to not make any sudden moves, worried he'd say or do the wrong thing and ruin his chances of getting some tonight

he talked to you sweetly, gently, with purpose, he was making amazing points

"i dunno if i'm allowed to ask or if only you get to initiate but i'll do all your chores for a month if you help me out here..."

he waited

nothing happened

you were out COLD

so time for his impromptu new final plan: beg for forgiveness not permission. he tries to rationalize it! you've never rejected his advances before, you're insatiable, this is probably something your into! maybe just being in your bed and surrounded by the smell of you can help him get there

so he stole some lube from your bedside table

it was so absurdly cold that he of course made a very manly sound (screamed like a mouse would) and jumped a bit, enough to wake you up again

so you turn to charlie, terrified because what the fuck was your little brother possibly experiencing to shatter everyone's eardrums at 2:33am

and you catch him, cock in one hand, other hand covering his mouth to avoid making more noise, but you already caught him slick-handed. and if you weren't so exhausted you would absolutely jump his bones in an instant, but the hangover was already kicking in so while seeing your younger brother trying to jerk off to you in your own bed would usually light a bonfire in your gut, this was more like a backyard fire pit sized one

so, being the amazing older sibling you are, you chuckle and coo at him, inching your hand towards the one on his cock

"awww my poor baby brother cant get off without me?" you fake a pout as your hand finds its way to cupping his balls, massaging gently

"pleasepleaseplease, need you so bad, needed you-needed you all night" he begs and involuntarily bucks his hips into your hand, eyes glued shut and hands fisted in your sheets, overcome with pleasure

he doesn't see or i guess hear or feel you shifting to be closer to his dick, or he just doesn't acknowledge it

but he sure notices when you grab the base and flick your tongue over the tip

"you're too cute" is the last thing he hears before being overrun by pure ecstasy as he finally cums when you take him fully down your throat, thank yous pouring out of his pink, bitten lips

his hands fly to hold your head in place, you let him until you start gagging

he lets go and starts profusely apologizing and thanking you

"you can make it up to me if you want.." you say seductively as you lay on your back and spread your knees just enough to get the point across

@th3-circus @xoxoave @jschladderall @manticore-fangs

im not dead which is shocking to everyone im pretty sure.. anyway here ya go <3

[philtstone]

Shawn/Juliet, "holding hands under the table"

i cant actually find which number it is from this list of prompts but that could just be my brain being fried from the week. also, everyone can feel free to send me more prompts lol. strike while the iron is hot, etc. this might be the most sedate tone i've ever hit with a psych fic. set immediately after the s5 finale -- like, hours after -- and hopefully the characters are all at the right place, emotionally. theres definitely a bit of a grey zone there in s5-6 where a lot is left unsaid but kind of known but also kind of not known. oh, jules.

She asks Lassiter to give her a ride because she probably shouldn’t be driving with a recent head injury. EMTs said no concussion, which is a good thing, but Juliet feels shaken enough that she’s going to do the intelligent, grown up woman thing and ask a friend for a favor.

She can’t help but wonder if maybe she does have a concussion after all, because Carlton behaves extremely fucking weirdly for pretty much the entirety of the drive.

Considering it’s Carlton, that’s really saying something.

“Vick gave me Shawn and Gus’s check,” she says as smoothly as she can, as they get in the car. It’s not entirely a lie, but it does feel oddly duplicitous in a way that holding hands with Shawn under the briefing table earlier didn’t. “Can you drop me off at the house?”

“House?” says her usually gruff partner, high-pitched. She’d caught him at the last second and kind of serendipitously, right as he was making his way out of the station, looking spooked, his jacket only half-on. At the time Juliet felt relieved, but now she’s wondering if maybe he’d needed some time to decompress before being made responsible for another person’s safety again. “What house? Spencer’s house? Doesn’t he live in a laundromat?”

“Henry’s house,” Juliet says, giving him a weird look while he turns the car on. His right eye is twitching. It’s possible that the evening’s events shook him more than he’s willing to admit; wouldn’t be the first time. “Gus told me they headed over there for the night. Carlton, are you alright?”

“I’m just spiffy,” he says through oddly gritted teeth, and sounds the opposite of. “One drop off, coming right up.”

Juliet decides she’ll figure it out in the morning. Her head kind of hurts, as does her elbow, and the catharsis she’d hoped to achieve through finally putting her signature down on that paper has left her a little bit shaky.

It feels good, though. She’ll probably have a good cry in the shower later on.

We did it, says Shawn’s voice in her head, so firm and final and confident. Her stomach and chest and general person are suddenly overcome with a slamming wave of affection she definitely was not prepared for. Swallowing, Juliet tucks her phone between her legs and shoots him a quick text. Wrapped up at the station.

Incoming text from SHAWN SPENCER:

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BABE WITH THE POWER!!!!!!

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

u gonna go home & rest?

Shawn’s texts were exuberant before they started dating, too, but the million heart emojis are a recent development. Something about their introduction makes Juliet want to clench her hands together, melt into the ground, and laugh hysterically at the same time. Shawn turns being a walking contradiction into an art form sometimes. So terrified of facing all the love he’s got to give head-on, but so reckless and sloppy about leaving a trail of it around.

Maybe that’s why she’s fallen so hard for him, Juliet thinks; it matches her inexplicable combination of extreme trust and extreme caution.

Okay. Woah. Too much. Chill out, Juliet; now’s not really the time.

Not with Carlton showing all the signs of working through a hernia in the driver’s seat beside her, mere hours after Serial Killer Takedown.

Yeah, Juliet replies to her boyfriend, then lays her head against the cool car window, closing her eyes before she can notice Carlton’s alarmed glances at her phone.

When they pull up, half the house lights are on. Clearly no one is sleeping, despite the horribly late hour. Juliet glances down at her phone again and realizes it’s pushing three in the morning. She winces. 

“Are you going to be okay driving home?” she asks, one hand on the door handle. Carlton’s staring directly out of the windshield at the house, looking aggrieved in that way that gives him the general look and demeanor of a wet cat. She really hopes he’s okay.

“Fine,” he says. Juliet holds her phone against her lap and sighs. 

“Alright.”

“O’Hara –” he begins, pained, as she opens the door.

“Yeah?”

“I …” A beat. “Nothing. I’m – you get some rest tonight. And – and stay safe.”

“I will,” Juliet replies, surprised by how sincerely the words come out.

Given everything that’s happened, she didn’t expect her own confidence on the subject to be so strong.

Juliet steps out onto the front lawn and watches her partner drive away. Behind her the house silhouettes itself in its own lit glow and the quiet sounds and salty smell of the ocean close by begin to properly filter into her consciousness. She stands still for a few long moments in the dark, which is less threatening now than it was a few hours ago. The humidity thickens her hair and her breath fogs in front of her. When she got Shawn’s text that he and Gus were crashing at his dad’s house instead of the Psych office, call if u need anything jules, she’d been yearning for a shower a bit too much to really think about it. Once her paperwork was out of the way, though, a shower became less important than – whatever feeling brought her here.

Shawn would say it was the idea of pancakes. She likes to think she’s capable of marginally more emotional vulnerability than he is.

She bites her lip, then presses send on the text.

Home.

The response is an immediate string of emojis, mainly the heart bubbles but with the addition of a few inexplicable inanimate objects too. She’s not sure what the megaphone or candelabra or pineapple are supposed to represent, but she’s smiling when she knocks on the kitchen door, which is meaning enough for her.

Henry opens it. He looks — exhausted, about the same as Juliet feels, despite the lack of head injury or general bodily trauma. The lines in his face immediately soften at the sight of her. Juliet refuses point blank to allow her eyes to well up.

“In you come,” Henry sighs, making way. Dr. Spencer — Maddie, Juliet supposes — is at the kitchen table nursing a cup of tea. Muffled sounds of a television come from the next room. Juliet vaguely recognizes them as Phineas and Ferb.

At her entrance, Madeline raises an interested eyebrow and glances at Henry, but beyond that moment of silent communication says nothing.

“Do you want some tea?” she asks simply.

“Please.”

Henry squeezes her shoulder, gently enough that she realizes he somehow noticed and filed away all her injuries earlier. Henry Spencer the detective still surprises her sometimes. “Boys are in the living room,” he says, and goes back to the table while his ex-wife putters around the kitchen more comfortably than is probably wise.

Juliet chews on her lip again. An amused smile fights its way to the surface, coupled with an odd twang of yearning that doesn’t really make much sense. Poor Shawn, she thinks, and it's almost a laugh in the same way she’s almost about to cry. But that’s been true all evening. Henry pulls out another old photograph from the box they seemed to be sorting through before her arrival and peers over the top of his reading glasses.

“Oh God, can you believe I used to wear this stuff in public? You hated this thing.”

“If by this thing you mean that horrible yellow suit …”

“See, it wasn’t the yellow that was the problem. The cut did nothing to flatter my physique.”

Madeline is laughing when Juliet slips out, chamomile tea in hand, to the living room.

At the entrance she stops and takes her heels off. Phineas and Ferb is playing, and loudly at that. As promised, Shawn and Gus are huddled on the couch nursing their empty pancake containers, smelling like sugar and more or less dressed in PJs; she spots what’s surely one of Henry’s old fishing t-shirts, cartoonish in the logo and slightly too baggy on Shawn. She knows any old clothes he keeps in the closet here probably don’t fit him anymore. Juliet wonders if Gus went home to change or if he, too, borrowed clothes. Shawn’s hair has flattened a bit where he must have yanked his shirt down over his head, floofy the way it can be in the mornings sometimes. He’s holding a pillow against his chest. Gus’s sock has a hole in the big toe. Every so often one or both of them will giggle at the TV. 

Her eyes do well up, then. 

Of course Shawn picks that exact second to notice her.

He notices a lot of things, Juliet has come to observe, few of which fit congruously with the many things he forgets or overlooks or can’t be bothered over. She wonders if that’s just an extension of how the spirits work, and if he’d explain it to her if she asked him. There’s a resigned part of her that doesn’t think he will, and a practical part of her that guesses at an attention deficit diagnosis that probably gave him some grief growing up and doesn’t really pair well with psychic visions or an enduring fear of being too vulnerable.

Three in the morning is too late to be mulling any of this stuff over, Juliet thinks. Besides which, most of it becomes suddenly irrelevant as she’s hit with the expression that takes over his face at the sight of her.  

Three in the morning, she reminds herself. Near death experience. Don’t read into it.

Shawn doesn’t say anything, only looks at her with all that throat-closing tenderness Juliet has ignored so many times before. I think you’re swell, he’d said. In some ways, she’s always been able to see right through him without even trying. 

Gus is wedged right beside him, hogging the blankets. There’s enough room on the couch for Juliet to fit on the other side of them. 

She walks over, hands Shawn her tea, and climbs into his lap. Her knees bend over his right leg, her shoulder sinks into his chest and her head settles against his neck. Shawn still doesn’t say anything. He just sets the mug down carefully on the floor, takes a deep, relieving breath, and wraps his arms around her. She hadn’t really worried that Gus might complain, but when he reaches over unprompted and squeezes Juliet’s unhurt elbow, the last little knot in her chest dissolves fully. She gropes her hand over the upholstery and squeezes his arm back.

“... latest in my brilliant line of ‘Inators, I call it the Unlikely-Inator! She pairs beautifully with the Likeli-Inator 2000. Together, Perry the Platypus, I shall use them to somehow take over the Tri-State area, and then the world!”

“You wanna change?” Shawn murmurs into her hair after a moment. 

“Later,” Juliet says.

“Mmmkay.”

The old t-shirt is soft against the skin of her cheek and smells like laundry detergent. The rest of the house smells like a family lives in it, even though Juliet knows that’s not really true, and it also smells like Shawn, a little bit. Shawn smells like Shawn, too. His chest rumbles beneath her with every soft laugh the cartoon pulls out of him. 

“Oh – oh, remember this, this next bit is really funny,” Gus says. His voice is just as soft as Shawn’s.

“Man, you know I have this whole show memorized.”

“I’ve never really seen it,” Juliet says quietly. They watch as the little platypus karate kicks Dr. Doofenshmirtz in the head.

“I know,” says Shawn. “But that’s being rectified. Ha! Gus, we should turn the Psych office into a funhouse next week. Just to see if we can.”

He pats her thigh and Juliet feels a small smile turn up the corners of her mouth against Shawn’s neck.

“Shawn, I am not stepping foot in another amusement park since that crazy-ass chick and her boyfriend tried murdering everyone last month. We can try turning it into a bunny sanctuary instead.”

“I like the way you think, hermano. Wait wait, here comes the explosion. Classic!”

She falls asleep slowly, lulled by the comfortable heat of Shawn’s body and the muted, silly sounds from the television. 

When Juliet wakes up, her cheek is pressed against an actual pillow, she’s horizontal, and she has no idea what day it is. She blinks against the grit in her eyes and the fact that her whole body is sore before realizing she slept on a couch. Someone put a pillow under her head and a blanket over her body and took the time to change her out of her gross work clothes. She looks down, only mildly discombobulated. She’s wearing the old fishing t-shirt Shawn had on last night and what must be a pair of Madeline’s pajama pants. They’re a pretty purple color and silky against her legs. She definitely still has her underwear on. A soft snore comes from the ground below her and Juliet realizes she’s still in the living room at Shawn’s dad’s house; Shawn himself is burritoed in an ancient sleeping bag on the ground directly beneath her and Gus is sprawled on a camp bed that’s a bit too small for him on the other side of the coffee table. They’re both still fast asleep. The light coming from the window is light enough that it’s properly morning, but the rest of the house is still dead quiet. A soft blue light appears suddenly on the coffee table; her phone is vibrating, which she realizes must have been the thing that woke her up in the first place.

She reaches carefully over Shawn to grab it. The home screen shows a text from Carlton, received minutes ago.

Got home alright?

She could say that Gus gave her a ride; it would be another easy lie, and he’d happily corroborate it. She hates the idea, though. She looks down at Shawn’s sleeping form, the unruly tuft of hair poking out from beneath the blankets and the drool on his pillow. Telling Carlton would be a bad idea, she knows.

Juliet types, for a second time trying not to think too hard about it, Yes, home. Safe and sound.

She sinks back into the surprisingly comfortable couch cushions, instinctively curling into herself, full of feeling she can’t quite articulate. After a moment of staring silently at the wall, Juliet turns onto her back and reaches one quiet arm down. The tips of her fingers meet the soft warm skin of Shawn’s ear, and when he doesn’t wake up, she keeps her knuckles there, barely moving, only rubbing her thumb up and down every so often. 

Everything else can be a problem for tomorrow. Slowly, she falls asleep again. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Cause of Action 3

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: thank you for waiting! Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

Mr. Barber –Andy– pulls into a spot along a street you recognise. You won’t voice why you find it familiar, that’s probably better left unsaid. Your nightlife is hardly relevant to a law office.

You get out and wait as he pays the parking pass kiosk and puts the slip in his windshield. He looks at his watch again. His apparent anxiety is adding to your own. You walk with him up the pavement and hesitate as he turns to cross. Oh, it can’t be.

You look up at the club’s marquee and repress any twitch of guilt. Of course you’d been there before, a couple times with friends, but you’re really not big on the scene. Still, you wonder what he would think.

It’s early. Door’s have yet to open but it doesn’t hinder him from walking along the brick front of the building and knocking on the double doors. You chew your lip. Your brain isn’t processing this properly. You have no idea what’s going on.

Andy looks at you and gives a rocky chuckle as he rubs the back of his neck, “client is a friend of the owner.”

“Ah,” you give a short nod.

“Not really our typical meeting place but he’s hard to pin down,” Andy explains, “we shouldn’t be long.”

The door opens and you’re greeted by a man with an imperious curl to his lips. Sleek black hair  combed back so the spiraled ends cluster behind his ears. Andy gives a tilt of his head.

“Uh, Laufeyson,” he points at him unsure, “I’m here for Hansen?”

“Ah, yes,” the man, Laufeyson lets out a long exhale, “I should charge him rent with how often he frequents. Come.”

He steps back and Andy catches the door, holding it for you until you precede him inside. The dark-haired man considers you with an air of discernment. You squirm as you glance around. This place looks a lot different with the lights on.

“Oh, this is my intern,” Andy supplies, “showing her the reins.”

“Hi,” you greet and offer your name. The man doesn’t acknowledge you.

“This is Loki, he owns the place.”

“Doors in an hour,” Laufeyson intones dismissively as he turns on his heel, “I’m certain you’ll find your way.”

Andy sniffs but says nothing. It isn’t until Loki is halfway up the stairs that he even moves. Andy shifts into motion, gesturing you into the main room of the club. He halts and looks around before pointing out another staircase; that one twisting and metal.

“I think it’s just up there,” he says as he continues forward and you scurry to keep up.

“So, uh, what kind of case exactly is this for?” You wonder as he stops at the bottom of the stairs and again waits for you to go first.

“Standard lawsuit. Employment contract breach. Hopefully, we can keep it to a deposition.”

“Mmm,” you hum thoughtfully, “is this the employee?”

“Employer,” Andy tuts, “burden of proof really isn’t on us, so there’s that.”

“Right,” you don’t head down the hall until Andy directs you onward to the door with a golden snake on it, “if he’s doing business here…”

You let the thought drift. It’s not really your place to say.

“You’re not wrong,” Andy says, “I’ve heard wild stories about this place.” He reaches past you and taps on the door with his knuckles, “an ex of mine, she apparently came here, liked to hook up with strange men…”

“Oh?” You blink but add no comment.

“Meanwhile, when I was married, my wife accused me of coming to places like this while I was working overtime to pay the mortgage,” he scoffs, “well, I guess that’s not important. Sorry. Just… this is weird.”

“A little,” you agree as his vocalisation of the fact eases the tension.

The door opens and you’re met by a man with a rather bristly accoutrement across his lip. You almost snort at the mustache but think better of it. It wouldn’t do well to mock this man’s fashion sense. He is a client after all and despite the venue, this is still a professional meeting.

“Barber,” the man greets as he leers down at you, giving a wink, “you brought some fun?”

“Hansen,” Andy growls back, a silty tone that makes you shiver, “my intern. Play nice.”

“Ah, I’m always nice,” he smooths a hand over his hair before offering it, “how are you, sunshine? Lloyd.”

“Um,” you reluctantly shake his hand and give your name, “I’m fine.”

“Fine, well, let’s fix that, come in,” he backs up and turns, strutting away in his tight white pants and shimmery satin shirt. He isn’t really dressed for business. “Barber, you hound, you finally got me. You better make it fast.”

He grabs a bottle and pops the top, “you know, I have a long night ahead of me.”

“I told you I had noon free–”

“Noon? I was still waking the snake–”

“Hey, cut it out,” Andy warns.

“Sorry, sorry,” Lloyd looks at you with a smirk, “she looks old enough–”

“She’s not here for that. So let’s get to it. I need the records of employment. What you sent me is a cocktail napkin and a snapchat conversation. That’s not gonna cut it.”

“Oh really? Like I said, it wasn’t really a contract. Not in the way she’s saying. Bimbo,” he scoffs as he pours a shot, then another, “it’s simple, there is no case.”

“If there wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”

Lloyd nears and offers one of the glasses. Andy sighs and stretches an arm in front of you to block the other man, “what are you doing?”

“You got this sweet little piece working late. I’m just tryna make it worth her time. You seem like the stingy type,” Lloyd sneers, “one shot won’t hurt.”

“She’s on the clock.”

Lloyd’s brows rise and he snorts. He doesn’t say whatever thought dimples in his cheek.

“Loosen up, you want some? I can get some scotch up here, old man.”

“I drove.”

“Uber,” Lloyd insists, “don’t be a fucking cock block.”

He elbows past Andy and presents you the shot, “there ya go, sweet heart. The good stuff. Top shelf. Whatever he pays you isn’t enough to get you a single ounce.”

You stare at the shot, then Andy. You know you shouldn’t and you really don’t want to drink. You tend to stick to a single drink on your nights out and dilute it with as much water as you can get.

“Um, thanks, but–”

“But nothing. Don’t let the geezer get you down.” He holds the shot almost in your face, “take it, sweet pea. Trust me, you’ll thank me.”

Andy nudges you gently, “it’s fine,” he grumbles under his breath as he takes out his phone, “I’m not leaving until I have something, Hansen.”

“You know what, I’ll give you better than hard evidence, something even harder,” Lloyd snickers as you take the shot but make no move to drink.

Andy backs off, rubbing his cheek as he turns his back to you. He’s angry. You can tell. You’re starting to wonder why he even brought you if he knew this man was like this. Maybe it’s good to get a taste of the difficult ones.

“Cheers, baby,” Lloyd clinks his shot glass against yours, “bottoms up.”

[ilikebookssomuch]

So I had this AU idea a while ago and today I finally got around to writing it in class :D

So um. Read. Cry. Enjoy.

*TW implied suicide* read with caution

Gone

By Cricket

Keefe wished Havenfield had normal windows. He figured having floor-to-ceiling windows was nice, but it was making it really hard to break in, especially while levitating. Keefe cursed under his breath, painstakingly removing the panes of glass. When they finally gave way, he rolled inside, the flower petals in Sophie’s rug crushed beneath him. Iggy rattled his cage, reaching tiny hands through the bars. 

“Hey, little guy,” he whispered, tickling Iggy’s chin. “I’ve got something for you.” Keefe pulled a vial of dye out of his pocket. After popping the quark, he opened the cage and poured the elixir into Iggy’s water bowl. The imp gulped down the elixir and released a loud burp. A moment later, his fur turned shades of green-pink-blue-purple with stripes. He looked like a mermaid with wings, and Keefe released a chuckle.

Iggy seemed very pleased and started licking his new fur. Keefe walked over to Sophie’s desk, digging through the drawers until he found a scrap of paper and a pen. He wrote his note quickly, not wanting to leave time to reconsider what he was about to do. When he was finished, he scanned over his work.

To the Mysterious Miss F,

Ugh, I’m already regretting saying this. But this is serious.

 I know that a lot has been happening lately, with your abilities, and my crazy mother. And I’m sorry. But I figured out a way to control myself. I hope you won’t hate me for it. 

This is for the best. 

Love, Keefe.

P.S. I love you, Sophie. Always have. Always will.

Goodbye.

Keefe tucked the note next to Iggy’s cage and then headed to her bathroom. He knew that the Ruewens had a large supply of medicine, and knowing Foster, he could find what he was looking for in her cabinets. 

Bingo. He tucked the vial into his cape pocket and pulled out his Pathfinder, spinning it to a random facet and raising it to the light streaming through the windows. Before he stepped into the shimmering beam, Iggy fluttered to the top of his cage and grabbed his hand, gazing up at Keefe. Iggy’s small hands wrapped around his finger. 

Tears filled Keefe’s eyes, but he blinked them back and said, “Take care of Foster for me, okay?”

Iggy seemed to nod and reluctantly let go of his finger. The last thing Keefe saw as he stepped into the light was Grady opening the door to Sophie's bedroom, eyes widening in surprise. “Keefe? What are you doing here?”

But Keefe was gone. 

He glittered back into existence in a small wheat field in the Forbidden Cities. Keefe glanced around, but he saw no other humans. Good. This would work. 

He pulled out the medicine, reading the small label that said to take a sip every three hours. Ha. Keefe ripped off the label, shoving it in his pocket before opening the bottle. 

He downed the whole vial, collapsing onto the tall yellow grass. 

“Sleep,” was all he was able to croak out as his vision rapidly darkened.

Then everything faded to black.

And he was silent.

Forever.

Ok I know I know I know please don't yell at me. There might be an alternate ending to this, so don't hate me yet :/ (It hurt me to kill off my boy too, jsyk)

Tag list because...why not. @myfairkatiecat because we were going to write this together and I think you'll want to read it. @ham-cheese-toastie because COGNATEEE <33333 @alaydabug2 @permanently-stressed because other fic writers. And my brain is blanking on me, so that's all.

[staybabblingbaby]

Felix Tinder AU (First Date Part) A2 D3

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: You match with what you think is a Stray Kids fan account on Tinder. You get along great with the account's owner, and think it's probably your most successful match to-date. Little do you know who's actually behind the screen...

Word Count: 1,580

Notes: So this will probably be the actual beginning. Maybe. Some version of it, anyways. idk, the formatting for this one is a bit... And I still have to figure out how to make fake Tinder stuff without photoshop. I do not own adobe products. This may actually end up being the first writing part in a hybrid SMAU, so it might not be the first part at all. We'll see. I didn't read this one back for any editing notes bc This entire fic is fighting me rn and I don't wanna look at it lol

Warnings: None as far as I'm aware

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

Masterlist | Next Part (Coming soon!)

You nervously tap on your steering wheel, anxious gaze glued to the side door you were parallel parked directly in front of. You felt sketchy as hell, but this was the manager-approved pick-up method apparently. Or at least leader-approved. You weren’t really clear on the details.

You were still sort of processing that this was your life, actually. Details were a bit secondary to the big picture here, you thought.

At last, the door creaks open and the blond head you’d been waiting for pops out. After a brief cautious sweep of his gaze, his eyes lock on your car. You roll the window down to offer him an awkward smile and a little wave.

Then, with a bright smile that made your heart do stupid little summersaults, Yongbok Felix Lee is sliding into your beat-up little jeep. You’re shamefully distracted by his (very) pretty face for a solid 10 seconds before you roll up the window and start moving to a proper parking spot.

You may be dazed by his presence, but by all things good in this world you were not carting off a (sort-of) stranger without talking to them first.

“Hi!” He’s the first to break the momentary silence, sunny grin on full, blinding, blast in your passenger seat. Your brain stalls a second time as your (again) realize that Stray Kids’ Felix is in your car. Like right now. Currently.

“Wazzup?” You greet back with a cheeky little smirk. You feel a bit bad for Felix. Making light of things was your one and only coping mechanism. You hoped he hadn’t been expecting a serious candle-lit dinner from you.

Well. Candles, maybe. Depends on how late the two of you ended up staying out.

Luckily Felix seems delighted by your overly-casual demeanor, bumping your arm with gentle playfulness. It almost feels like you’re two close friends meeting up after a long time instead of (sort-of) near-strangers.

You know that if he spends enough time with you the shell of confidence you’re currently wearing will become transparent, but hopefully the façade would carry you through tonight.

“We’re just moving so we can talk without being in the way before we head out.” You explain, pulling into a shaded parking spot in the corner of the lot. You’ve pulled hopefully far enough away to not attract attention from the doors, but also not far enough to be creepy.

Felix nods, tilting his head curiously at you. “Sure, what are we talking about?”

You put the car in park and laugh a bit at his cuteness. “Just expectations and whatnot,” You say, unbuckling so you can turn and face him properly.

“Before all that, though, are you a hugger?” You hold your arms open a bit, not enough to actually touch him, and making sure you’re not leaning forward, letting him take the reigns of contact.

You worry you may be being a bit too forward, but you were trying for normality with all of this, and you really did open most interactions with hugs when you could. You were touchy like that.

Fears once again unfounded, Felix grins widely and quickly reels you in for as tight a hug as the two of you can manage whilst still seated. He reels you in so quickly, if fact, that your arms become trapped between the two of you and you struggle for a moment to wiggle them free and wrap them firmly around his waist.

As you settle in, you rock the two of you to-and-fro, and Felix lets out a content little sigh that has you melting into the embrace.

You sort of feel like giggling madly and tearing up at the same time. You feel a bit like you need to vomit, as well, but you hold all three urges back. It’s just that Felix holds you so warmly and delicately, you feel a bit like you might shatter before the night even begins.

You reluctantly pull back before you cross the bounds of appropriateness for a first meeting, skootching around so you can bring your legs up into your seat in a weird pretzel and start the conversation properly.

You want to coo at Felix as he imitates you and gets himself comfy as well. You’re down bad for this man already, unfortunately. IT’s best that you don’t let on quite how badly if you can help it. You don’t know if you can.

“So!” You start with a clap, “First of all, allow me to welcome you to our humble city.” You do an awkward showman’s bow, gesturing as grandly as you’re able when you’ve crumpled yourself into the world’s cringiest ball.

You’re so damn lucky that Felix seems so charmed by you so far. You’re begging with everything you can that your innate silliness will guide you through tis interaction without you panicking too hard.

“I’ve been here for several days now, first of all,” Felix starts, eyes twinkling with amusement and mischief. You play right into his hands, squawking with offense and playfully swatting at him.

You both dissolve into giggles as he tries to catch your hands to keep them from hitting him, and you loudly begin to complain, “Oh well, I’m sorry someone was too busy playing two fabulous shows to come see little ol’ me before now!”

“Oh, come on now, you wouldn’t let me get you seats, you deserve this ribbing!” He retorts back, finally catching your hands and putting a stop to your flailing. He pauses then, and you can practically see the gears in his head turning.

“Wait.” He tugs you forward by your hands, staring you down with an expression of delighted disbelief. “Fabulous show? Were you there?”

You quickly turn your head to hide the mirthful smirk on your face, replying only with a drawn out “Maaaaaybe.”

Felix gasps loudly, letting go of your hands only to lightly slap your knee, “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have gotten you backstage or something!”

You wave your hands in front of you, both warding off Felix’s playful attacks nd waiving off his words.

“No, no!” You deny him, continuing on to confess, “I actually had the tickets before we even started talking, I got them right as they went on sale.” You pause and duck you head a bit to hide your blush, “Besides, our first real meeting should be our first date, right? That’s how this works.”

To your slight mortification, you can very easily tell that Felix is trying his hardest not to coo at you, so you quickly rush to move on before he can interrogate you further.

“But we’re getting off track!” You exclaim, pointing at him in gentle threat. He holds up his hands in surrender, but you can tell by the smirk on his face that he wouldn’t let it go that easily. Still, he lets you move the conversation forward for now.

“So, I’m a bit paranoid,” You suddenly confess. Felix’s brow creases with concern, but you continue before he can get any weird ideas into his head, “I just wanna make sure we’re on the same page before we actually go anywhere.”

Felix makes a noise of understanding and gestures for you to continue.

“So I just want to make sure we’re both expecting this to be a romantic date and not, like, a platonic one.” You explain. Felix tilts his head a bit in confusion but nods along.

“Yeah, we’re on the same page there.” He agrees. His gentle smile feels a bit like he’s humoring you, but you plough on regardless.

“And I know we’ve already talked about this, but I don’t put out on first dates. I’m not into hookups, so even if you’re leaving tomorrow I’m expecting this to be the first of many or the first and last date.”

Felix seems to be cottoning onto the intended severity of the conversation, despite its relatively light tone. He nods along, seeming pleased about something. You pause to let him interject, but he just gestures you to continue.

You hesitate a moment, but then finish with, “That’s all, really, I just want both of us to be happy with things at the end of tonight.”

Felix smiles so fondly at you that you think you’ll combust, so you quickly reach across him to open your glove box to pull out a couple of papers, to Felix’s utter bafflement.

“Moving on!” You exclaim, pretending that your ears aren’t burning with the force of your blush, “I also have these!”

You present to Felix a paper with an address and your vehicle details as well as a map with a certain area circled.

“Ok, so, keeping as much a secret as I can,” You begin to babble as Felix examines the papers with confusion painted over his delicate features.

“But I was thinking about what we could do that didn’t involve being in public much and wasn’t expensive or anything, and I came up with a plan. A friend of mine owns some forested land with some nice hiking trails, so I thought we’d start there, but it’s a bit rural and I know it’s weird, so I brought both the lot address and coordinates and my car details so you can tell your people exactly where you’ll be and if phone service dies or anything no one freaks out and-”

You cut yourself off, realizing that you’d probably said way more than you needed to

[babybulls15]

(Carlos Sainz Jr./Max Verstappen, 2.1k, rated T, 1/1)

(Tooth-Rotting Fluff, the fluffiest of all the fluffy things that have ever entered my brain, Morning Cuddles, rated T because swearing just happens to me I don't control it)

Summary:

The best mornings are slow. Even when they probably shouldn't be.

Read it on Ao3 or below. :))

(made possible by the loveliest of beta readers @leversainz)

(I hope you enjoy and I'd love to hear your thoughts! :3)

------------------

Max comes to slowly at first.

His mind takes its due time to tether back to reality and enter a state that can be considered awake – making several detours through barely-there thoughts and dream-like visions.

There is sunshine falling on his face, warm and welcoming. Max is not yet conscious enough for the rays to register as bright, so he relishes in the warmth until the comfortable blank of his vision becomes more and more orange, threatening to tip him too far into wakefulness.

Languidly stretching, he turns around and away from the light, not tuning into the waking world enough to open his eyes. Crisis averted.

The other side registers as less bright, but not lacking any of the warmth previously supplied by the morning sun. Max smiles at this almost-thought, as he burrows his head into the chest of his own personal burning star. Intending to bask in the provided body heat for at least another hour, he wraps himself around his human ray of sunshine, feeling arms envelope him in turn and almost slips back into full unconsciousness.

However all the movement and bursts of nearly-thinking have seemingly set something in motion within Max’s brain, as he realises two things in quick succession.

One, he should be alone. There should not be another person here. Least of all the one that he is currently wrapped around. And two, all windows in his room are facing west.

Max comes to with a start then.

Memories of the night before flood his mind - sitting in his room, texting Carlos, complaining about being alone (Carlos), tempting (also Carlos), throwing all caution to the wind and sneaking out in the middle of the night (Max), yada yada yada (both of them).

Max should not be here. He is not where he is supposed to be. He needs to get back to his room now or Victoria is going to have him hung, drawn and quartered by noon. Shit.

He must look wild, eyes thrown wide open and darting across the room, quickly scanning his surroundings for any indication of the time. Carlos’ chest, that Max is still very much pressed against, rumbles with barely contained laughter. “Relax cariño, it is still early.”

Not even slightly soothed by that, Max tries to disentangle himself from the embrace, to catch a glimpse at the alarm clock on the nightstand. But the more he struggles, the tighter the hold on him becomes. Still not quite awake enough for words, Max lets out a protesting whine. Carlos only chuckles. Asshole.

“Calm down, mi vida. No one is even up yet.”, Carlos tries again. This time the reassurance is paired with feather-light kisses to the top of Max’s head and all over his face. “And besides, I would’ve woken you on time. Can’t have you start such an important day by panicking, no?” He places one last kiss to Max’s brow, giving him a look that makes any objection pointless. So Max sighs and lets himself sink back fully into the strong arms wrapped around him.

Closing his eyes and focusing on Carlos’ hands running up and down his back, he tries to channel the serenity that had enveloped him just a few minutes ago. Carlos says they have time, so he is going to use it.

But, turns out, being shocked awake kind of prevents one from fully relaxing back into blissful unawareness so soon. Like someone flipped a switch, Max’s mind is suddenly full of thoughts. Less severe realisations bouncing around freely, keeping him awake and stacking up nervous energy. After a few minutes of unsuccessfully trying not to think about the day ahead, he caves and takes a deep breath – preparing himself for the real world, plans and responsibilities. Okay, next try.

He squints up at Carlos, knowing it makes him look slightly sleep-addled and cute (not Max’s words). “Would you at least tell me what time it actually is?”, Max pleads, “Are you sure no one is awake and scheming our murder right now?” He adds a pained yet sweet smile (he hopes) to complete the package, but only gets an amused look and a raised eyebrow in return. So time for the big guns.

Max stretches to look directly into warm, chocolate brown eyes, blinking slowly. “Schatje”, he almost-whispers, “you know I trust your judgement on the schedule.” Another blink. “And if it was up to me I’d say screw everything and stay in bed with you until the actual ceremony.” Leaning closer, Max presses a barely-there kiss to Carlos’ lips, savouring the way they’re chasing after him when he pulls away slowly. He sighs. “But I also don’t want to give Vicky any tangible excuse to kill me on my wedding day. And being caught in your hotel room on said wedding day, when we were explicitly asked to stay apart, does place very high on the list of things she considers such reasons.”

Max can anticipate the protest from the way Carlos’ arms tighten around him once more and the groan he feels more than hears.

“But all of this is such outdated superstition!” Here it comes.

Carlos is, by all means, not someone who whines. He really isn’t. This is a close call though. If he wasn’t holding Max so tightly, the Dutchman is sure, he would even throw his hands up for emphasis.They’ve been through this before.

“No one except your sister actually believes in it. I certainly don’t and you don’t either.” Carlos rolls onto his back, letting his head fall onto the pillow with a thump. Max follows the movement and settles with his arms crossed on Carlos’ chest, head resting on them. The Spaniard takes a deep breath and meets Max’s eyes. His gaze looks slightly desperate. Huh, this is new.

“I thought I could do this. For you. Because I love you and I know how important your sister is to you. But it is different now that the day is actually here.” Carlos takes another breath, like he is steeling himself for something. “We already have to sneak around all the time, so I refuse to be pressured into doing so, on the one day that we shouldn’t need to. We are getting married for fucks sake. That should mean something. That is supposed to stop all the hiding, all the secrecy.” Carlos now sounds as desperate as he looks and Max is getting slightly worried. Neither of them had been thrilled when Victoria had proposed (read: demanded) they stick to the ‘tradition’ of not seeing each other the night before the wedding, agreeing only to appease her. However, this is an entirely different tone. This is a big deal.

Why has this not come up sooner? They’ve been together for so many years, but with both of them still active in F1 and the sport being what it is, actually coming out has so far been shelved for after they retire. All the people that really matter know anyway. And even though they both regularly voice their frustrations over certain details, they know the only real solution remains one neither of them wants to consider yet. Or is Carlos considering it? Is that what this is about? Does he want to retire? Max tenses. Carlos continues.

“We shouldn’t have to worry about being seen coming out of each other’s hotel room today. We already have that enough during the season. I hate it then and I hate it now. We shouldn’t have to worry about not being seen in the hallway of a hotel, that is entirely booked with guests for our wedding. Why do we even have two rooms? That is such a waste of money and space for such a bullshit superstition.” Carlos huffs, slightly out of breath and Max uses the opportunity to pull him into a deeper kiss. Both to placate Carlos and to calm himself down. He knows they need to have a proper conversation about this. But for what it’s worth, Max thinks that can wait until after they are properly married. It’s only the beginning of summer break. If they choose to, they’ve got enough time to make a real plan for going public or find a way to make the situation more bearable in the future. Today is not about that though. Today is about them and their love, no matter who knows about it. And Max is going to make sure that all the work they put in, to make this whole thing as private and relaxing as possible, is not going to waste. Let’s fix this.

“You’re right.”, he says firmly, when they break apart for long enough to get a word in, “We are getting married and that means something. It means that for once, we call all the shots. No more hiding. No more sneaking.” He smiles brightly at Carlos, who seems to relax more with every word and starts to smile back. Good.

Max sighs again. “I know my sister can be overbearing, but she means well. It’s just that she’s not big on taking risks when it comes to relationships and apparently that includes superstition.” He shrugs. “Anyway, I am very glad I let you tempt me into not spending the night apart.” Max leans in, locking their gazes and whispers: “Because we are getting married today and I could not imagine a better start to married life than waking up next to you, Liefje.” He means to emphasize his point with a small peck, barely long enough to register, but Carlos catches him and they get lost in each other for a while.

“I love you.”, Max breathes against Carlos’ lips when they pull apart. The smile he gets back is almost blinding. “I love you too, mi vida. And today I am going to make sure everyone we meet knows it.” For a moment Max lets himself bask in that and the vision of it maybe becoming the norm someday, before he leans closer again and winks at Carlos conspiratorially. “That sounds lovely. Let’s do that. Of course, I am also going to need you as my personal security against Vicky.”, he says. Carlos rolls his eyes, but Max continues undeterred. “Though I am not going to sneak around, I am also not strong enough to face her wrath. She is my little sister, sure, and this is technically our wedding, but you know as well as I do, that flew out of her head, the moment I made her my maid of honour.” His weak attempt at a joke draws a small chuckle from Carlos.“I would never let anything happen to you, mi amor. You are safe with me, do not worry.”, Carlos grins at Max, who mimics swooning into his arms, “My knight in shining armour.” They both giggle. Better.

There’s little conversation after that, the two of them just lying together, basking in the morning sunlight and the comfortable silence that envelopes the room.

This is probably going to be the last real silence of the day, Max realises. Contentment and excitement are mixing in his gut, forming a cocktail that makes his head spin a little. He doesn’t want this to end. Ever. Never wants to leave this room, this little cocoon of happiness, that they always seem to be able to build. No matter where they are.

But at the same time he can’t wait to get married. Can’t wait to walk down the aisle with his soulmate. Can’t wait to make everything official. Not that 8 years of a dedicated relationship and shared real estate are not official, but there is a small possessive side of him, that puts some more weight into getting to call his boyfriend of 8 years his husband. Husband. Yeah that sounds about right.

Another realisation makes Max perk up. “About the rooms. You know we are paying for the whole hotel, even though not all the rooms are booked. So technically, we are just properly using the otherwise wasted space. This is actively making us waste less money, you see.”, he says. With the words out of his mouth, he’s briefly afraid it’s going to ruin the mood again. But Carlos doesn’t seem to think so, as he just starts laughing loudly. And Max is a weak, weak man when it comes to that laugh, so although he doesn’t really see the joke, he has no choice but to join in.

They have just come down a bit, when Carlos clears his throat. “So, seeing as we don’t like wasting money, maybe we should use up some of the other empty rooms tonight?”, he proposes, scratching his chin like he is trying to solve a very difficult problem. Max emphatically nods. “To keep the wasted money to a minimum of course.”, he agrees.

They burst out laughing again. The best.

[goatunderthebridge]

that pretty boy just bit me! he bit me! are you fucking kidding me-?

thinking about the hq characters whenever I listen to the Warriors album that came out recently (I actually really like it - I watched the film as a kid when I shouldn't have and was so scared of it that this album has healed that fear a little - the bottle clinking is still the soundtrack for my nightmares though).

yes I have daydreamed the entire story, yes you will see snippets of it if this stays latched on my brain for long enough. for now, enjoy my match-ups of hq characters to the main gang members because I have been thinking non-stop about how easy it is to transfer their personalities over since the album was released. if you know nothing about The Warriors (book, film, or album), this will probs not make much sense but enjoy anyways!

tw for anyone who needs it: The Warriors is about gang violence and murder so caution engaging with it + this post thus mentions it briefly

The Gramercy Riffs = Aoba Johsai

Oikawa is absolutely Cyrus who believes in everyone to come together for a common dream (and in turn they build a belief in him). Iwaizumi is Masai and grieves so hopelessly for Oikawa. Aside from the devastating iwaoi, it's funny on a meta-level to imagine Oikawa saying "can you dig it?" when thinking about his serves like no they can't dig it babe !!! But we love you king

The Warriors = Karasuno

Ofc Karasuno are the stars of this daydream. Daichi is Cleon who helps Iwaizumi find the killer gang, obviously renamed Odysseus because that man just wants to go home (although he would defo believe in Oikawa's ideals and want to set things right, even at the expense of himself). Kageyama is his right hand man, Swan (renamed King ofc), and leads the gang back home - imagining Kageyama saying that he has a gang loyal to him makes me want to cry when thinking about hq, trust me and listen to the album whilst imagining Kageyama as Swan. It will change your life.

Suga is Cochise (renamed Polaris/Sirius bc symbolism), Asahi is Rembrandt, Noya is Ajax (we love a fighter who refuses to back down from a challenge), Tanaka is Cowboy (ofc he gives in to the Sirens), Tsukishima is Vermin/Snow (renamed to idk something like Clock bc he tsks a lot and it sounds like ticking), Yamaguchi is Fox and I cry every time I think about him as Fox (currently listening to that song and sniffling as I type). Hinata absolutely is Mercy (renamed Sunshine or something) and I cannot listen to A Light Or Somethin' without thinking about kagehina. They like and want each other instantly but can't express that in the 'right' way !! Kageyama lifting Hinata's face when he's embarrassed being seen by others and then kissing him??? Oh. oh the humanity.

The Rogues (killer gang) = Shiratorizawa or Johzenji

Ahhh the killers (no, not Mr Brightside). I love Luther's character because he is so unhinged for little reason which is why Tendou springs to mind BUT I cannot see Tendou in this. So my mind goes to Terushima (likes fun and pushes boundaries => obvs transfers to being a maniacal villain who kills for no reason (jk)).

The Hurricanes = Nekoma

I just love the idea of these guys acting as alley cats on skates. that is very funny to me. Also: Kenma on skates?? I love that visual. I fully believe he would hate it and either be the only one in the gang to walk or is dragged around by a leash so someone pulls him along on the skates OR Kuroo straight up carries him. Anyways: Kuroo is the gang leader, Kenma is the one who convinces them to let the Crows go because he uses one of his many braincells to realise that they absolutely didn't kill Cyrus (unlike many others in this story).

The Furies = Fukurodani

If you haven't listened to the song about them, please do. I get chills every time - they only come out at night?? Oh yes please, the ideas are flowing. These are the Night Owls with metal bats and painted faces. Bokuto is the leader but I can't imagine him to be willingly silent in a gang hmmm.

The Orphans = Inarizaki

Atsumu and Osamu as twin leaders of a weak but large gang makes me giggle okay? Hinata calling them chickens and trying to get into the Crows' gang? yeah i like that idea. Also the idea that Atsumu follows the vibe of the music album by letting the Crows walk through Orphan Town after flirting with Kageyama and Yamaguchi makes me laugh.

The Lizzies = The Sirens (aka any pretty people in hq not already mentioned in a gang)

Kiyoko is a given as the gang leader who Tanaka falls for and derails the Crows for a little bit. However, as the title suggests, the lines 'that pretty boy just bit me! he bit me! are you fucking kidding me?' are really catching onto my brain and I can't stop vocally stimming with it so maybe we follow ennotana and let Ennoshita bite Tanaka idk.

Honourable mentions: UshiTen as the radio DJs.

That's it. You read it right. Tendou is the radio DJ calling out to the boppers and chilling me to the bone but Ushijima is the one behind the scenes whenever I think about this, ensuring the radio show goes smoothly lmao

And I'm finished :D I really had to get this out lmao I cannot stop thinking about this nor stop listening to the album so this will be something I obsess about for a while longer !!! If you see references to it in future fics, no you don't <3

[yanderes-galore]

May I ask for Dr. Edward Richtofen(Primis) with prompt 4,26, and 41?

Richtofen my beloved....

My prompt list was used for this!

Surprise, surprise, I felt out of ideas so I decided to base this off my Self-Aware! Richtofen with Player! Darling where Darling left the game, but Richtofen can't accept that.

So sorry this took so long/isn't what you wanted :(

Yandere! Primis Richtofen Prompts 4, 26, 41

"My heart belongs to you, I'll adore anything you do to it."

"Look! We're bonding, just the two of us!"

"I made this mark on myself to show you how much I love you!"

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Self-harm, Obsession, Reality warping, Self-Aware game character, Implied past intimacy, Mind Break on Yandere's part, Possessive behavior, Blood, Forced kissing, Delusional behavior, Forced relationship.

He was going insane.... He had met a being from another realm, fell in love, then lost them all in a few weeks. Richtofen had lost you, even after all you did together.

It all started with a little feeling, he knew something was there. Then you came crashing into his world. With that, you also managed to worm your way into his heart once the suspicion died down.

He was obsessive about you. He knows he has a mission to do, yet he keeps remembering how you felt. He remembers the kiss and what followed after....

Then once you found a way to leave you jumped at it. He was stunned when you gave him one last hug, one he didn't want to let go of, and started towards the opened portal. He felt... desperation.

"Take me with you!"

He remembers crying out to you.

"I can't live without you!"

You kept saying you couldn't live here with him. That you cared for him... yet had to go home. You had different realms.

His love was unnatural.

He still... felt you sometimes. Still guiding him like a guardian angel. It hurt him so much that he can't feel your warmth fully.

With the ore affecting his brain and the fact he met you, he became destructive to mostly himself.... His team had noticed blood dripping down his arm. In an attempt to heal him, they realize what he's done.

"What the HELL, Richtofen?"

On his arm, once the blood was wiped clean, was letters scratched into his skin. Letters of your name. His deity... his player.

"I don't ever want to forget them. They will be my only love. I need to see them again."

To see you again was his motivation. He already had the ability to go to other realms. Surely, with research and practice, he could see yours.

He bets your realm is beautiful. He bets it's peaceful without the undead breathing down your neck. He's just... excited to be with you again.

Richtofen was only a game character to you. A ball of code only meant to exist in a game. It turns out he may be more than that.

He felt his mind rotting while he obsessively focused on more and more research. He's told over and over to forget about it. He can't.

Not when he knows you're out there.

By this time, you had moved on from Call of Duty Black Ops 3. The fact he can't feel your presence only stresses him more. He presses on... looking for a breakthrough.

Then there's a blinding light... a portal...

And a Richtofen on his hands and knees in front of your PC/TV.

Confusion fills the air, the man looking around the room with caution. There's a familiar scream that makes him turn his head. Only to see you in the doorway, realizing the consequences of your actions.

"Beloved-"

"No...."

"You need to go back-"

"I've been trying to see you again! I managed to find you!"

The bloodied man in front of you steps closer, laughing to himself.

"Go back...? Now why would I go back?"

Your gaze flicks to his scarred arm. Your name is read on it, making your eyes widen. Richtofen smiles when he sees what you're seeing.

"I made this mark on myself to show you how much I love you!"

He grips your shoulders, you swore he could hear your heart beat. Any chance this could be a dream is snuffed out when he leans in to kiss your lips softly. The feeling of facial hair tickling your skin is too familiar... too real.

"My heart belongs to you, I'll adore anything you do to it."

Richtofen preaches, eyes fixated only on yours.

"Does this now show how we're fated? I'd travel across time and space to find you. I said I wanted to come with you... after months, I've done it."

He strokes your cheek like you're a scared animal. Richtofen then slowly guides you to the nearest seat and sits by you, not once letting you go. It's as if he's scared to lose you again.

"I'm not going anywhere now... so, dear, may you show me how your realm works?"

His question is soft, as if he's not covered in blood. As if he's not strapped with an arsenal.... As if he's not from a VIDEO GAME-

Shuttering, you manage to form a response.

"S-Shower... then we'll talk-"

The idea of him coming here was not too out of this world. You went to a video game. How could he not come to your world?

The issue was getting him back... if you could.

Until you could find that out, you needed to disguise him. Richtofen looked like he was straight out of WWII. It would look weird nowadays, obviously.

Still trying to get your bearings, you convince Richtofen to give you his sizes and give him a modern set of clothes from a store. He didn't seem to mind. It was the start of his new life with you.

One with way less danger and undead.

It felt so weird to you. Awkward, even... based on what you two did within his world. After that, he was convinced you two were soulmates bound to one another.

You'd feel his arms around you tightly. You even catch him kissing you, wishing for something similar to what you did before. Before you thought of the consequence it would have to do such a thing with a video game character....

Something so simple comes with a price.

"Look! We're bonding, just the two of us!"

Richtofen cheers to you, smiling like a child. He'd be so excited just to sit beside you or gaze at your very modern TV. It was as though he went to the future.

He did way more than just that.

Each kiss and hug felt strange. It was all very real, hell the modern clothes make him look like he's from around here. But you know his origins.

Not only that... but he's under the impression you're his and he's yours. He thinks your dating. As a result... it gets hard to explain to others.

He's from a fictional universe yet somehow in yours.

Your shock had ended after you were thrown into his.

He's possessive, glaring at anyone else around you. You hear him mumble he hates the attention you're getting. His new ideal life is to be alone, with you, in your home. A house spouse, if you will.

If anyone comments on your "boyfriend's" similarities to Richtofen from COD, you are quick to try and excuse it.

It's just a funny coincidence! You harshly nudge Richtofen when he tries to say he is who they think he is. Then you're dragging him off, saying you'll talk to them later!

Your situation becomes increasingly hard to manage. Far as you know, you're the only one who has this problem. The fact he's obsessive, trailing the name on his arm affectionately, scares you more.

How do you solve this?

In response to your distant mind, he tries to soothe you. You need to stop worrying. He just wishes to adore you like he did before.

You used to think the company is okay. Yet fear sinks back in rather quickly. You know you have to fix this.

You just have no idea where to start...

Or if you even can.

"Dear... you still love me like you used to, right?"

[redhoodsdoll]

Whumptober 2024 - Day One - Panic Attack

For those of you who have read The Queen's Games, these are those characters inserted into Whumptober Prompts. If you haven't, just enjoy them as OCs of mine. Spoilers for Books 1 and 2 are at the top, under the cut.

Book 1 Spoiler: Ember and Kane are Married Book 2 Spoiler: Eludes to an event at the end of Book 2 without being explicit of what occurred General Spoiler: These two are disgustingly in love with each other (And I refuse to apologize for it) *~*~*

"Ember."

She was breathing too fast. Her hands shook as she looked down at them. Wrapped in that iridescent armor, with just the tips of her fingers exposed. A perfect suit of armor that would protect her from- from herself. A hard truth she had never wanted to acknowledge.

"Ember."

The flames that licked along her body were burning blue, yet she didn't feel warm. It should have burned, should have held enough heat for her to feel the bite. For Stars sake, she had smoke curling off of her hair, and she still felt cold.

"Ember, please-"

She squeezed her eyes shut and wrapped her arms around her torso. The center of her chest felt frigid. She felt like her heart had been replaced with ice that was rapidly cooling her veins. When had the world grown so cold even when encased in her powers' embrace.

"My Princess?"

There it was. No, there he was. His hand steamed as he reached into the inferno around Ember, and set it gently atop of hers. His fingers were cold, truly frozen. He had encased his whole hand in frost that he was rebuilding just as quickly as she melted it away.

"There you are, my love. Come back to me?"

Ember slowly looked up. Studied those eyes that were even more green than any gemstone. They shown so pretty in the light of her flames.

"Kane?"

Her throat burned. She was parched. She was... warm. She could feel just how cool his skin was compared to her own, and she may as well have a fever for how drenched in sweat she was.

"I'm here. I'm right here. Can you turn down the heat-"

The words had hardly left his lips, and the flames snapped back. Her husband may not belong to the House of Charms, but that didn't matter at that moment. He could have asked anything of her and she would have done it.

A shudder went through her, and Ember reached for him. A hand in her own was not enough contact. She needed him. Through all that they had been through, he had been her anchor. A fixed point that she found herself tethered to, grounded by. Even now, as her heart beat too quickly and her body felt too small for the heat that coursed through her veins, he was exactly what she needed.

Even as he pulled her into his lap, he didn't make her feel small or powerless. He held her like she was fragile, but not in a way that offended her. He didn't treat her like she was fragile in the way glass was, he held her like she was fragile in the way a bow pulled taunt would be treated with caution. He moved carefully and held her close, with a form of affection that she would only ever accept from him.

She had only ever loved him. That much was certain. She had only ever truly fallen in love with one person, and she couldn't ever ask for him to be anything beyond himself. Especially not when he didn't say a word about her fingers wrapped tightly in his shirt. Nor the fact that tears steamed off her still too warm cheeks.

He just held her close, and ran his fingers along her back. Whispered soft words into her hair that her brain couldn't truly decipher. His tone was full of love and anguish, and she knew why. It was just as painful for him as it was for her.

"You- you're here," Ember finally managed to say as she pressed her face against his chest. Let herself cherish the way his heart beat against her cheek. The fact that they were alive and together. Everything else, it could all wait just a bit longer.

"As I always have been and always will be, my Beloved," Kane whispered before his lips brushed against the top of her head. "No matter what, I will be here. I am forever yours, and will be here through all of it."

"I wish that you didn't have to be," The words slipped free before Ember could stop them. She had always been strong enough for herself. 

"Even if I didn't have to be, I still would be. We're a team now and forever more. No matter what we face, it will be together. Never will I even allow the Stars to pull us apart again. Where you go, I will follow. Every step until eternity ends."

Ember managed to pull back enough to look up at Kane. To study the faint freckles that were splattered across his cheeks from their trek across Celeste. The way that his red curls stuck to his forehead, and hung so long that they would be in his eyes soon if he kept refusing to cut his hair.

"I love you too," Ember said, a slight lift to her lips as she drew one hand up to cup his cheek.

A flush spread across his cheeks and neck and he stared at her with parted lips. Even after all of it, she could still make her poetic, flirt of a husband get flustered.

"You always know how to cut through my words and see exactly what I'm truly meaning," Kane said with a laugh and a shake of his head. The crown atop his head teetered and slipped so that it was hardly hanging on to his head. Ember didn't bother to fix it as she leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Always. And forever. I will stay with you until eternity ends," Ember softly vowed. She meant it too. Just as much as she had on their wedding day. She loved him just as dearly as he had loved her, and she would never shove him away. Especially not when he was her anchor, the one who could even pull her out of a state of panic that had her powers burning out of control.

[911ficrecs]

Hurt/Comfort Masterlist

a leaf falls on loneliness by iimpossible_things - 11,163 words, not rated

Summary: Buck doesn’t think that if he were to say, “I’m in a bad place”, that anyone would turn him away. Really, he doesn’t. The 118 has too many good, kind people for that.

But every time he wants to open his mouth, to say something, to reach out to Eddie or Bobby or Hen or Chim, he hears Eddie yelling, “you’re exhausting.”

—you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting—

So each day he does his job and he laughs and he jokes and he pretends he’s the care-free goofball he’s always been. And each day he packs away his bruises and his worries, takes them home to his empty loft with its quiet rooms, and licks his wounds in silence.

blue enough to bruise by renecdote - 3,161 words, teen+

Summary: Two things happen at once:

Buck overbalances, arm slipping from around the bridge.

The rope snaps.

They lock eyes for a second, half a second, Buck’s wide and afraid, Eddie’s probably a match with the way his heart is pounding hard enough to hurt, nothing either of them can do, knowing that there is nothing either of them can do, and then—Buck is falling.

Drowning in Dreams (You're My Raft) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels - 5,434 words, explicit

Summary: In which Buck sleeps his way into a relationship with Eddie, but not in the way you'd think.

fireflies where my caution should be by littlesnowpea - 13,799 words, mature

Summary: “You never talk about your parents,” Eddie says, which is not even remotely what Buck expects Eddie to say. He frowns, tilts his head, but it isn’t a question, as evidenced by Eddie charging on. “I never asked because I figured it was your business, but the look on your face any time they’re brought up tells me you don’t get along.”

Buck swallows hard, against a lump in his throat. His parents? Eddie’s right, he never talks about them, for good reason. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, not sure what he’s even going to say.

Eddie takes it as the answer Buck is trying to make it out to be. He squeezes Buck’s wrist again, takes a deep breath, like he’s on a call with someone who’s panicking. Buck finds his breathing slowing to match Eddie’s, and Eddie nods as Buck gets it under control.

“There are people on the porch,” Eddie says, voice even. “Saying they want to meet their grandchild.”

i'm sinking deeper (reaching for the end of the light) by moodyreindeer - 8,716 words, mature

Summary: "I'm just so tired."

post 3.04, rewrite of 3.05 - when all is said and done, Buck is just really fucking tired of feeling alone.

Life Is Just The Way You Hold Me by allyasavedtheday - 10,142 words, teen+

Summary: Eddie needs a hug and some sleep. Buck, quite literally, offers his services.

Love You Sober by Child_Of_Wonderland - 4,545 words, teen+

Summary: Buck twirls the beer bottle around in his fingers and tries to ignore the rapid fading of the warmth in his chest. It's not a feeling he can mimic, no matter how hard he may try, and his brain won't stray from a perfect image of Eddie. To be loved back, that's all he really wants.

one part trust, three parts betrayal (just add fire) by wonderfool (foolmetal) - 14,925 words, teen+

Summary: Buck's parents are in town. It all goes downhill from there.

Reaching In The Dark by Pline - 38,713 words, general

Summary: It all started innocent enough but Buck can no longer deny it.

He has a stalker.

Someone so obsessed with him that they would spend hours and hours following him, unnoticed, taking pictures of him, taking notes of his habits.

But life has been so good lately, and Buck doesn’t want to worry anyone. So he tells no one about it, he can deal with it on his own.

real family by haveufoundwhaturlookingfor - 5,578 words, general

Summary: Buck has a son, but only few people know about him because of Buck's abusive ex-husband. Buck has been terrified of his ex-husband finding him and taking his son away from him, but a minor accident with his son makes him realize that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he told the 118 about his son.

returning home by haveufoundwhaturlookingfor - 5,162 words, teen+

Summary: Eddie has been away in the army a few years, leaving Buck at home to watch over their son, Christopher. Things are stressful for Buck, but he tries to put on a brave face for Christopher while they patiently wait for Eddie's return.

Some wounds never heal by yellowdaisy2023 - 8,964 words, general

Summary: After Buck comes out as bi, Ana voices her dislike for Buck.

there's frost in the air (but there's home in your eyes) by rogerzsteven - 3,702 words, teen+

Summary: Buck and Eddie are trapped in a train crash.

this is me trying (at least i'm trying) by screaminghalfpastmidnight - 15,393 words, teen+

Summary: Buck never really dealt with his issues after the tsunami and the team never really asked so here he is, two years later - the pier's reopening, a victim shows up and thanks Buck, plus the city wants to give him an award for not dying out of pure luck. So, yeah. Buck's not doing well, everyone knows and Eddie's unsure which lines he should be crossing now that he and Buck are in some weird, middle stage of knowing that they will be together, but aren't yet due to personal reasons (like figuring their own relationship trauma out so they're not shitty partners).

you can say we're still friends ( but i don't wanna pretend ) by swiftiediaz - 8,487 words, teen+

Summary: Eddie talks about his feelings for Buck. Hen and Chimney take matters into their own hands and set them up on a blind date without their knowledge.