#the past few days i wake up in the middle of the night but im able to go back to sleep fairly quickly. but i STILL feel exhausted.

[pink-lemonadefairy]

🌻 ₊˚⊹ ࿔ 🌳

[moonsaver]

Thinking back to a post you once made about Aeon Sunday… Imagine being someone who knew Sunday in the past before his ascension, only to then receive the gaze of Aeon Sunday later in life

Oh my god. I love this. This is simultaneously creepy AND oddly romantic.

Theres a lot of possibilities for this – was reader sunday's crush? A suitor? Maybe just someone he shared small talk with and actually liked it more than usual? Ooohohoho

Im not sure if its yan or not, so i just kinda.. kept it variable(?)

This ones a bit longer because i desperatley need to wordvomti . Thanks.

Achieving an aeon's gaze is strange, your discipline, morals, ideals, lifestyle, something has to deeply resonate with their followed path. Let us assume Sunday is something similar to a "dreamlike" aeon [maybe it's mentioned in his boss form description, all i remember is the embryo of Philosophy ;;]

But again, it's not exactly stated how you'd be able to achieve an aeon's gaze; i still have no idea how acheron did it [IX is literally a black hole??], because i cant for the life of me read through those huge blocks of texts in the dialogue.

So lets say Sunday's able to pull his own strings and maybe even force you on that path. He's an aeon – who's stopping him?

Its the middle of the night, you're awake in bed, tossing and turning. It feels like something in your chest is pulling, a weird sensation you've been trying to put off. Your eyes are burning from the lack of sleep, but your mind seems restless. You try to calm yourself down and think about one thing and then another, one by one, until you remember Sunday. You wonder what was going through his mind, his in-between words in that one conversation, what he could have meant..

And like that, you fall asleep. Your bones sink into the bed, your weight relaxes into the pliant surface.

And then you awake. But somewhere else. It's not your bedroom – not the familiar ceiling, nor the corner of your room with piled clothes or a messy table. It's the cosmos, littered with stars. It's strange. You almost don't notice until you try to move – you're floating in space.

You turn, and he's there. That recognizable golden halo, stretching out into the dark expanse like the inside of a star plunging into the depths, golden eyes that peer down at you; with recognition, understanding, almost sympathy, and something you can't quite place. Your ribs ache and your lungs burn when you're reminded to breathe – this is the man you were thinking about before you slept.

You wake up, panting, shooting up in bed. The familiar space of your room greets you this time. The night is young outside your window ‐ not much time seems to have passed in that brilliant moment.

You were ready to chalk it up to a dream, like the ones where you feel like you're falling and wake up with a racing heart. But then you look down, and see a strange symbol on your body, something akin to an eye.

It seems you've earned his blessing to follow his path.

And even more? It seems like you're the first person to actually follow this path.

It's strange and isolating in a way. You can awaken from the sweetdream paradise your beloved Aeon seems to have put penacony under. You gain this strange, superflous, iridescent ghost of a halo, and you realise you can use it to communicate.

You can communicate with Sunday.

But a part of you finds it pointless. you can't understand what he's saying anymore; Aeons' existence transcends language. You can only hear whispers of people speaking to you, as though it's from the corner of a room, somewhere in the distance, with one barely audible male voice standing out in the whispering; it might be sunday's real voice, but you're not sure. At least, to some degree, you've managed to make out a few words.

Some words give you information. You can monitor the true handiwork of your aeon this way. Every person's dream — sweet, deep slumbers, exquisitely woven by deft fingers, all in 7 days. You figured this when you phased out of the dream, looking down at your own sleeping body and freaking out, when Sunday communicated with you for the first time, instantly calming you down. Dream. Woven. 7 days. Those words were evident in the cacophony of whispers.

Some words carry warnings. Or rather, they're not exactly words.

When your curious hands boldly trace the surface of a particularly fragile dream, you hear breathing. In close proximity, too, as if its right behind your ear. Sometimes, if you try to wake someone, you feel the breathing; warm, and languidly flowing down the back of your collar. You've chosen to not find out what happens when you don't listen.

Sometimes, when you decide to simply phase out of the dream to take a look at your own body in reality – you talk to Sunday. You tell him what you think, who you met in the dreamscape, what he can do to make it better [since.. well, you can't exactly do much to awaken anyone or oppose an aeon]. You assume he doesn't hear you, since you don't get your whispery response, but after you catch a few glimpses of your suggestions in the dreamscape, you realise he's just a good listener.

Perhaps, even if you may be the only follower of this path for now.. it may not be as isolating as you think.

[aangelkeii]

❝𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀 𝐊𝐎𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐄❞ | Oops - Tweet, Missy Elliot ❦ ❀

Kinktober Day 3: Cock Warming (k.tober 2024)

A/N: GOD DAMNIT. okay so i rushed this im sorry it's not my fav but it's what you're gonna get. i'm so tired rn i should've listened to my girlfriend bro oh my gawd. also the photo of him on the ground is really tasty ngl

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

wc: 1.7k (hmm..) | warnings: fem! reader, singular use of the word 'cunt' (sorry, couldn't be helped), cock warming obvi, uhh li'l praise? literally the tiniest bit, this goes on during a stream so like.. voyeurism? viewers are adults dw, pornstar! kuroo is mentioned cuz i think that's so funny, kenma whines. o.0.

Wake up, eat a protein bar, turn on the computer, stream for however many hours, sleep for 3, repeat. 

That’s been Kenma’s routine for the past few weeks. He’s been doing charity with Kuroo, ‘Kodzuken: After Dark’, a cheesy title for a program where he does what he regularly does, just for an all-adult audience. He’s dealt with the guy for this long, and he’d do this stupid thing for him. It’s not good for him, though. It’s absolutely terrible, visible in the dark circles under his eyes and the extreme exhaustion written across his face, but he’s been doing this kind of thing for so long that he doesn’t see anything wrong with it.

You beg to differ.

Of course, you support him through his career because it’s what makes him happy (and what makes the money), but it’s gotten to a point that you’re living with a walking zombie instead of your sweet, loving boyfriend. You don’t want to be annoying and pester him about his unhealthy habits, but sometimes you just have to be stern with him. 

Sending him a quick text while he was streaming, asking if he could come to bed soon, proved to work somewhat. He did curl in next to you earlier than he usually did, but it was still considerably late at night. The worst thing about his habits is the fact that even with a total of 21 hours of sleep a week, he still manages to look so good, and feel mostly unaffected by it. Most of his exhaustion comes from the drop of adrenaline after a good stream.

You decided to do something about him. Not in a regular way, but in a way that would make him understand.

In the middle of a stream, you opened the door to the office and peeked your head in. Kenma heard the door creak a bit and muted his mic, turning in his gaming chair and pulling one side of his headphones off of his ear. 

“What’s up?” He muttered, half of his face illuminated by the harsh light of the computer. His hair was tied back into a ponytail, stray pieces tickling his cheeks every time he moved his head. 

“How’s the stream?” You made sure that your face isn’t visible to the webcam. Kenma didn’t want you to show your face to his fans just yet. You understood, flattered that he cared so much early on in your relationship. Even if it’s been 3 years since then, he still stood by his words. “Jus’ wanted to check in.”

He looks back at the screen, reading the chat as they greet you with ‘Lady Kodzuken’, a title that started off as a little joke. It’s the only thing they call you now, not knowing anything about you. “It’s good.”

He looks back at you, giving you a look over while his eyes are away from his nosy viewers. “You going to bed soon?”

You shrug and step into the room, softly closing the door behind you. Kenma’s hand hovers over this stream deck in case he needs to change the screen, but you walk to the side of his desk where the webcam can’t reach. Your hip leans against the desk, his eyes following your every move.

“You gonna come with me?” Your tone is a bit snarky, but mostly teasing. 

He looks back at the screen, the look on his face answering your question. You figured he wasn’t, but you’re still slightly annoyed. “There’s a few more levels, then I’ll join you.”

Nodding slowly, you peek around the screen to read the chat. They’re asking where you went and what you were doing.

You step into frame, and Kenma barely reacts in time to switch the screen, going to ask you what you were doing when you took his face in your hand. Your warm palm pressed gently into his cold cheek makes his eyelids falter just a bit as he relaxes. You soothe his cheekbone with your thumb, looking down at his golden eyes. He has a small look of confusion, brows upturned in question.

“Can I stay here with you?” Your soft voice has him nodding before you even finish your sentence. He doesn’t question you when your free hand goes to the drawstring of your pajama pants, undoing the tie and shimmying them down your legs. It’s only when you step out of them and reach for the waistband of his sweatpants that he snaps out of the trance you put him in.

“Wait–” your hands freeze at his hip bones. He has an internal battle with himself, debating on whether or not he should just end the stream and take you to bed like you wanted or let you sit on his lap with barely anything separating the two of you, but your thumbs delicately brush over his lower stomach.

He gulps and releases a shaky breath, reading the look in your eyes. You don’t plan on just sitting here with him. You’re planning something more.

He nods and you resume your actions, tugging the waistband down, and he lifts his hips for you to pull them off entirely. His hand rests on your hip as you settle on top of his lap, arms wrapping around his neck. He knows immediately that this was a mistake.

He can feel how warm you are, seeping through his bones and warming him from the outside-in. Your knees settle on either side of his hips, digging into the back of the gaming chair, and lean down to kiss his neck.

He feels you shift on his lap, seemingly accidental, but the purposeful roll of your hips down on him tells a different story. The seemingly innocent kisses and tender touches was just a ruse for you to fuck him.

“Babe, I’m streaming,” his voice strains when your fingers creep underneath the band of his boxers, peeling them down enough for his hardening cock to spring up. Your hand palms him, pressing the head against his sweater and leaving a small wet spot on the fabric. It’s embarrassing to him.

“I won’t be bothering you,” you spread the pre cum down his cock, taking your hand away to pull your underwear to the side, sitting against him and rolling your hips. He slips between your lips, knocking against your clit over and over, the stimulation enough to make you clench around nothing. When you raise on your knees and press his tip to your slit, his hands shoot up to the sides of your thighs in warning. 

Sliding down on him slowly, giving yourself enough time to stretch out around him without hurting yourself, Kenma’s already a panting mess beneath you. When the back of your thighs meet the top of his, a pitchy noise leaves his lips and his head falls back in an attempt to control himself.

“Go back to your stream, baby.”

His eyes dart to yours alarmingly, looking at you as if you were crazy. You expect him to continue on like he’s not buried to the hilt inside of you? How can he act like everything’s normal?

You lay your head back into the crook of his neck, taking in a deep breath of his hoodie, tightening your arms around him as you settle down. A slight shift of his hips has you clenching around him and his head feels like it’s going to roll off of his shoulders. But, he does as you say, unmuting himself with a quiet apology as he switches the screen. Now, he wishes he had set up that screen for when he’s not using his webcam.

The rest of his stream goes by agonizingly slow, periodic twitches of your cunt around his dick that makes him buck his hips involuntarily. You have an impressive talent of keeping yourself dead quiet at times, and he’s entirely grateful for that at this moment. The chat questions every time his face burns a darker red and his bottom lip is pulled between his teeth, but he brushes them off with some lame excuse. Either his chat is clueless or stupid, because it should be entirely obvious that he’s stuffed inside of you while you cockwarm him with no care in the world. 

His tip keeps nudging against your sweet spot, and after a torturous hour of small, faltering movements, your hips start to pick up in speed. Kenma slams his hand down on his stream deck, switching to some random idle inimation and muting his stream before his hands grip onto your hips, head falling back with a moan. He hasn’t gotten softer with little to no stimulation, only growing painfully more hard. He can feel how wet his boxers have become from how you’re dripping around him, and it’s overstimulating when you increase your speed even more.

“Oh, oh fuck, mmmhn, s’good,” he babbles on, mouthing near your temple, head foggy and determined to come. The slight praise sends a bolt of electricity between your legs, clit pressing harshly into his pelvic bone, stimulating a fire inside of you. It’s a sudden rush of want and need that forces Kenma to reach up to the back of your neck, dragging you away from his neck to slam his lips against yours in an effort to muffle the pathetic whines that pour from his lips. The warmth of his cum inside of you is enough to make you come, too, huffing out your own noises of pleasure as you ride it out on top of him.  

It feels like forever until the heat finally subsides and you lie limp on his lap, arms circled around his torso as you catch your breath. Kenma ends the stream quickly afterwards and plans to tweet out an apology or something, saying it was a technical difficulty, hoping to god that no one points out the obvious signs of his bliss with you. He knows that it’ll spread like wildfire if even a single person mentions it, but he’ll worry about that later.

“I didn’t like that,” his breathless voice speaks into the quiet air.

“Oh?” Your head lifts, slightly worried. Did you cross a line? 

He looks at your face, pupils dilated and face warm from the rush of blood throughout your body. “An hour was too long. We could’ve been in bed by now.”

Your worries are forgotten. You smile and lean closer to kiss him, cradling his face in your hands.

© aangelkeii - do not repost, translate, plagarize, or claim any of my works as your own.

taglist: @ggriwm @ppsucker3000 @cstandsforchaos @jakeyjakies @cphlo @dumbwaystolive

[hannahluvsbillie]

the only one

casual part 3.

(but can be read as a one shot)

part one

✫ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ~ you thought billie had moved on, seeing her post like it was nothing, she was fine. maybe it was just casual to her.

★ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ~ billie eilish x reader

★ 𝐜𝐰! ~ mentions of panic attack, angst, nightmares (?)

ᡣ𐭩 a/n ~ hi! thank you all sm for waiting for part 3!! this one has a little time-skip, i’m thinking maybe 1-2 months since casual part 2. let me know if you like it, hopefully it lived up to your expectations 🥺

it’s been a few months since that last meet up billie and you had. the one where she belittled you and your feelings.

you blocked her the morning after, it wasn’t easy blocking her. someone you fell in love with, but you realized that it was one sided the day she told you it was just causal.

maybe you wanted her to spill her feelings on how she loved you, and didn’t just want you for a quick hook up to relive some steam. but deep down you knew that’d never be the case.

to say you’ve been doing good is a lie, you’ve been.. okay. dating felt pointless as of now, you knew your heart would always belong to billie, even if you two weren’t serious, it didn’t mean you loved her any less.

billie on the other hand, looked like she was doing great. i mean- it wasn’t like you’ve checked up on her, you were non contact. but on her instagram she looked like she was doing great. she’s on tour, her album is still doing good, she has good friends. it was bittersweet to see her now, it still made you cry some nights.

you were laying in your bed, staring up at the ceiling. you had just woke up from your sleep, a dream waking you up. the dream was a recurring one you’ve gotten for the past few months since you ended it with billie.

the dream went something like this: you were in bed and when you turned over, you see billie, sleeping peacefully. you just observe her for however long until your brain wakes you up.

it never went father then that, it was just a constant reminder of her. maybe that’s why you couldn’t get over her.

suddenly your phone starts ringing, waking you from your daze. you shake your head a little and roll over, grabbing your phone off of the nightstand and rubbing your eyes to see who’s calling.

who would call you at 3 am?

you read the number, you don’t recognize it. it’s your area code, but that’s all you recognize. god- they’ve called you 12 times.

you just decide to pick up, hoping they’d stop after that.

“hel-“ you clear your throat, trying to make it sound like you weren’t just asleep. “hello?” you say weakly.

“y/n?” the other person says.

your heart drops, how could you not recognize that voice? the voice that used to sing praises to you, who used to speak to you in the softest voice, the voice you fell in love with.

“billie? what the fuck?” you say, blinking repeatedly. you blocked her, how was she calling you? you pinch yourself once to make sure you aren’t still dreaming, only to be met with pain. okay, so this was real.

“i know im sorry- i just- i really need you right now, i have no one else to call and i don’t know what to do.” billie speaks, immediately apologizing. you can already tell she was in the middle of a

panic attack. her voice cracking when she speaks. you feel that same pang in your chest hearing her like that.

you take a deep breath, running a hand through your hair. “okay- bills- billie, calm down. breathe for a minute” you say. you regret answering, it just made everything come back.

you hear her take a breathe and go silent for a moment, before speaking again. “i’m really sorry- i know you blocked me and we aren’t supposed to be talking, but i just- i dont know what to do. you’re the only one that knows how to deal with me when im like- when im like this.” she speaks softly, her voice still shaky.

you go silent for a second, zoning out looking at the floor. inviting her over would be horrible for you, ruining all of the progress you’ve made. but fuck, you can’t just leave her alone, you can’t help but care about her.

“okay- fuck, do you want to come-“

“yeah.”

“okay.”

your eyes widen when she speaks. that was quick. as soon as she says yes you hang up, putting your phone down. what did you just do?

a few minutes later you’re pacing though the kitchen, waiting for the doorbell to ring. the gravity of what you just did sinks in, you shouldn’t of offered.

but as soon as the doorbell rings and you rush over to open the door- maybe a bit too quickly, and you see a disheveled billie, all of it disappears. god you just wanted to protect her from everything.

her hair sticks to her forehead, the same hair that you used to play with, her eyes were red and looked up at you with so

much guilt. it’s obvious she feels horrible

about coming here. maybe she wasn’t as good as it seemed on her instagram. it looks like she’s back in that place she was in when you first met her.

“oh, baby…” you coo, gently putting a hand on her shoulder and leading her inside. when you close the door and look back at her, she looks like a lost puppy, her eyes still swollen.

“i’m- sorry-“ billie chokes out, starting to cry again. you immediately pull her into a hug, gently cradling her head in your hand, the other hand gently rubbing her back.

“it’s okay billie.” you say, gently kissing her head.

you felt so many things, you let her into your house even when she broke your heart, you truely could never deny her, especially when she’s crying in your arms like this.

you’re fucked now.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Hi!! Can i request a hurt/comfort hotch x reader?

Reader is starting to feel lonely in the relationship cause for the past 2 months hotch has only been home for a week total and she really misses him. They haven’t had time to themselves cause even when hotch is in virginia he’s in the office and him getting called out on a case during his day off happens more often than the both of them want to. and even when they text and call it’s not the same.

anyway hotch comes home in the middle of the night after a case and he just finds reader on the sofa crying cause she just really misses her boyfriend and the two of them finally talk about it.

You have permission to break my heart with the angst and put it back together. I know its long and i have no clue if it made sense so im sorry😭😭 enjoy your day💕

༉‧₊˚. 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

― pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size!reader

― summary: you knew that being with aaron meant that his job came first, you just hadn't realized how badly it would actually affect you. now, your life and love is on the line.

― warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST!!! you have been warned!, thoughts of breaking up, established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, hints of depression.

― wc: 905

⋆ a/n: my first long fic back being angst LMAOOOO. i'm not going to lie, writing this kind of bummed me out a bit but that's how i knew it was going to be good LOL. but never fear, i got a few smutty things in the works, so keep a silly little eye out for that!! i love you guys so so much and thank you for your request!

masterlist | AO3

The room felt melancholic. Empty. 

The sounds of laughter that had once bounced off of the walls of your home now rang silently, one of the only people that knew of the joy that once made your house a home was long gone on a case right now.

You don’t know what to do. How could you last like this? How could your relationship? How could Jack?

Jack, the precious little boy that you had taken under your wing even before you and Aaron had ever made it official. You knew he missed his father dearly, but with every large life milestone the boy had completed, Aaron had missed out on. It had gotten to the point where Jack doesn’t bother to ask you if he could call his dad to tell him about it, because nine times out of ten, he knew that Aaron wouldn’t answer.

So now as you sit here on the couch in the dark with your head in your hands, you can’t help but think that maybe this was it, that it was time to consider the very dreaded other option. 

You tried your best to make your relationship with Aaron work, God did you try, but having to sit there and endure weeks of radio silence, of not knowing whether or not he was alive was excruciating. When he did have time to text or call you, every conversation was more and more distant. 

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks, and your bottom lip trembled. You crossed your arms and placed them on your knees where you leaned on them, staring out into the abyss of your dimly lit living room. You had just put Jack to sleep, and you didn’t want to risk waking him up.

Your eyes solemnly scaled the walls where the pictures of your little family hung, frames upon frames of happy smiling faces. 

What happened?

It was the fact you were absolutely drowning in your thoughts that you didn’t hear your front door unlock – something that your boyfriend would deeply frown upon. 

Aaron wasn’t surprised to find the apartment quiet, what he was surprised to find was your silhouette illuminated by a single lamp. What really set off the alarms in his brain was your shivering shoulders, which could only mean one thing.

“Sweetheart?” His deep voice pierced the thin air hovering above you. You just shook your head, any happiness that would have left your mouth died in your throat, the words leaving you was, “We have to talk.”

You hated doing this, but who’s to say he won’t get called in tomorrow? No, you had to do this now.

Aaron felt his heart fall into his stomach as he made his way over towards you, gently sitting down on the cushion next to yours, almost as if he was afraid to scare you.

“Of course. Are you okay?” He inquired in concern. You just shook your head again. “This isn’t working, Aaron.” The pain lacing your voice was unmissable. “What?” He’s completely caught off guard, because this was the last thing he’d expected to come home to.

“I can’t do this anymore… unless – unless we can figure something out but even then I-” He rushes to grab your hand, and it lays limp and cold in his warm and calloused one. “Honey please, what’s wrong? Tell me what I can do.” Holy shit, he’s panicking. 

“You’re never here anymore! I - I can’t remember the last time in the past two months that we’ve been able to have any alone time together! Most of the time you’re either gone in a whole different state or stuck in the office!” You couldn’t stop the word vomit from leaving, all kinds of emotions that had been kept dormant finally coming up to the surface.

You heaved out a deep breath, your body slumping in defeat. “Did you know that Jack learned how to ride a bike today?” You asked quietly. “No.” Aaron gulped, “I didn’t.”

A heavy silence settled between the two of you.

“What do you need me to do?” Finally, you looked at him.

There were unshed tears in your eyes, “What I want you to do, you can’t make it happen.” His eyebrows furrowed. “You want me to quit my job?”

“No,” You said with a disbelieving laugh. “I just want you to be there.”

“Who says I can’t do that?” His head tilts, his eyes boring into yours, desperately trying to read you. It was like his profiler skills didn’t exist. “Every time you’ve had a day off you’ve been called into the office one way or another.” Your tone is hopeless, like your situation can’t be helped. 

With a harsh squeeze of your eyelids, the tears began to fall, but Aaron was quick to swipe them away.

“Honey, look at me,” He cups the side of your cheek, his thumb brushing away the liquid. Hesitantly you did, and you instantly fell victim to the warmness of his irises. “I will fix this, because I am not losing you. My behavior has been completely unacceptable, and I swear that I will be here for you and Jack more consistently, I promise.”

“How do I know if this won’t happen again?

“I’ll make sure of it.” 

It was the finality in his voice that fizzled out the anxiety in your gut, setting your nerves at ease.

“Don’t make me regret this, Hotchner.”

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[megalony]

Leave Her Out Of This

This is a new Nick Amaro imagine from SVU, requested by a lovely anon. I loved this idea and I hope you will all like it. Any feedback is always lovely to get.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz

Masterlist

Summary: Nick comes back to work but he can't contain himself when he finds his wife up on their board of victims. He won't have the team dragging up her past and upsetting her.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey stranger, how are you?"

A tired smile formed on Nick's face when he sluggishly walked into the squad room, trying not to drag his feet behind him and act a little more human today.

"Better," He felt much better than he did last week when he went off sick. He had barely been able to keep his eyes open and when he started to run a fever, Olivia sent him home. They didn't need him collapsing on the job or crumbling behind his desk when he wasn't well.

It had been oddly strange for Nick to spend five full days at home with (Y/n) and not have to set an alarm or wake up to a phone call in the middle of the night asking him to come in. He didn't get one call or message or even a voicemail asking for his help or for him to come back and it was the weirdest feeling in the world. The team must have realised how run down he felt to not message him at all.

He didn't feel one hundred percent just yet, but he felt better than he had done and he was well enough to come back.

Spending a few days between the bed and the couch had done him a lot of good, and being with his wife just made him feel that much better.

As he approached his desk, Nick shrugged off his overcoat and draped it on the back of his chair. He didn't want to sit down just yet because he knew if he did, he wouldn't be likely to get up again. It was best for him to keep moving and keep busy to wake himself up.

"So, what have we got?" His hands fell to his hips and he took a sweeping look around, waiting for someone to tell him what the plans were. They had just finished up on a case last week when Nick went off sick. He didn't know if they had a new case yet, if they had a victim to talk to or if they had a big case building up that they needed to work on.

"We're building up an old case with three new victims. Come see what we've got, then we can head out and speak to the latest vic."

Amanda waved a file in the air towards Nick before she got up from her desk and beckoned him to follow her.

He had missed the beginning of this case opening back up, but he could jump in and help since they hadn't spoken to any of the latest victims yet. They needed the usual statements, witnesses, coroborating stories and alibis. It was going to be a busy few days around the station.

Nick could feel himself wishing he was back home already and he had barely been here two minutes. But he tried to push those feelings down as he followed Amanda past the desks and towards the back of the squad room where the computers and the crime boards were.

They had been busy.

"New vics on the right, old ones on the left. We're still searching for more potential vics."

"So, what's the case?" Nick leaned back and sat down on the edge of the table as his arms folded over his chest and he studied the new victims. They always had better chances with new victims, old ones had the statue of limitations hanging over their heads and memories could change and fade and warp. Details could be missed as well.

"Glad to see you back," Olivia commented as she approached the boards and started pointing. "Local parish priest, Jonathon. Three girls between ten and fifteen have come forward with allegations of abuse. Looking back, we've found six previous victims, Finn is still searching for any others. He takes them under his wing, gets them helping in church after school, then progresses to attack them repeatedly."

A wave of unease washed over Nick as he tried his best to listen to what Olivia was saying. But it was hard to concentrate when a familiar sense of knowing lingered in the back of his mind and he could feel his skin starting to prickle with goosebumps.

It was as if there was an invisible hand in front of him that reached through his chest and fisted around his heart when he dared to look over at the board on the left.

Oh God no.

No, that wasn't fair. This couldn't be right.

A subtle trembling set in over Nick's body and he found himself pushing off the table to take a few steps closer to the board he was now inspecting.

It was the same man. It was the same priest. The one Nick fortunately had never met, but had heard all about over the course of a decade. This was the man that Nick had envisioned countless times when he laid awake in the dead of night, unable to sleep or think or do anything but wonder what he was like and if he had been caught out.

"…Are you familiar with the old cases?" Olivia kept her voice quiet because it seemed like Nick was caught up in a trance he couldn't break out of.

He was stood right in front of the board of old victims, but it didn't make sense. Nick wasn't old enough to have been there to work on the old cases. If he was familiar with them, it would have to be due to a fairly recent victim or because he knew someone else who had worked on this case before.

Nick's fingers twitched at his sides and his right hand jerked up before he managed to control himself and drop his hands back to his sides. He let his hands clench into fists until his short nails were puncturing into his palms, creating deep crescent moons in the skin.

"Yeah… I… I need a coffee." He turned on his heels and backed away from the board before he did something he shouldn't.

He made his way through towards the cells and moved to the small kitchen at the side. He needed a coffee to wake up and calm himself down.

His wife was on that board.

Trembles set in through his hands when he tried to pour some fresh coffee into a takeaway cup. He spilt more on the side than he got in the cup and he added three sugars to try and settle his system and his nerves.

They had (Y/n)'s picture up on that board. They had gone raking through past cases and old reports and they had dug out (Y/n)'s file.

While he had been off, they had found the few reports (Y/n) had made when she was younger.

That was why Nick knew this case back to front, he knew what that priest was capable of because it had happened to his wife. Nick knew (Y/n) had made at least three separate reports to the police, but because her parents thought so highly of the priest and didn't believe her, nothing was done. (Y/n) had no evidence of abuse and the police wouldn't file charges or make an arrest on a man of God. Not unless they had solid evidence and more witnesses.

The other girls who came forward didn't have solid cases either. Nothing was done about it.

"So, what do you know about this case, anything we can use?"

Nick glared daggers down into his cup when he trailed back towards the table and heaved down into one of the chairs opposite the boards. He slouched back and crossed one leg over the other, but he couldn't stop staring up at that board.

(Y/n) looked so young. The picture had to be her when she was thirteen or fourteen. There was something in her eyes that made Nick's stomach churn. A desperate need to be listened to; they were made of glass that was splintering and about to break. The world was hidden within those eyes that had seen far too much for someone so young.

"He grooms them first… makes them feel comfortable, preys on any family issues. He usually makes them give confession before he tries anything, then he had a hold over them. Sick fucker."

His eyes stayed on the brown paper cup in his hand that was slowly burning into his skin, creating a delicious tension that made Nick feel calmer.

He knew what the priest did, from what (Y/n) said, his motives became very clear. He wormed his way into their lives and made sure he knew their friends and family and that everyone liked him enough to never believe any of these accusations. He made the girls feel vulnerable and like they would be defying God and going against everyone if they ever spoke out.

Nick couldn't help himself, he couldn't help but look up at that picture again. He wasn't used to seeing photos of (Y/n) from when she was younger, she didn't have many photos she liked that didn't plague her with bad memories. And after she left home and went to college where she met Nick, she cut off ties with her parents. They didn't support her, they didn't help her and whether or not a small part of them believed what she had gone through, they still did nothing about it.

(Y/n) didn't want to be around them anymore when they had let her down so badly.

"I want you both to go over the old victims with Finn, get new statements, any details we can use to make a new case. The statute of limitations may have run out, but some of these girls did make reports and file complaints and we can use those."

No!

No, they were not doing this. They were not going to victimise (Y/n) all over again and put her through that trauma. Nick wouldn't allow it.

No good would come of this, he had consoled too many victims who couldn't put the past behind them. He had talked to so many victims and all of them felt worse after re-living events like this. Getting justice may help, but the process to do that didn't. No one was doing this to his wife.

Nick wouldn't see (Y/n) tell her tale to more people when she had been through it before. She had talked to her parents. She had gone through every event with the police. She had relived it when she opened up to Nick about what she had been through. She wasn't doing that again.

"Amanda, I want you to start with-"

Olivia took a step away from the board and leaned back when Nick suddenly got up. He rounded the side of the table and before either of them could speak, he slammed his hand down on the board.

Nick snatched the picture of (Y/n) from the board, tearing a crease in the top left corner where it didn't come apart from the blue tac properly. His chest heaved and his shoulders strained against his shirt as he stared down at the picture he desperately wanted to tear up into pieces but couldn't. This wasn't the girl that Nick knew. This wasn't the woman he had fallen in love with, this was a piece of her past he had seem glimpses of but never ventured into.

This was the part of (Y/n) that she wanted to bury and forget and Nick would do absolutely anything in his power to do that for her.

He reached down and snatched the eraser on the bottom of the board and set a fast pace, scrubbing the black marker from the board. He wiped away his wife's maiden name, her date of birth and the dates of her attacks. He cleaned away the information about her allegations and what she had gone through.

He wiped the slate clean, wishing this could rebound into her life and smudge away her past so it never happened.

"We have five old victims, not six. You don't use this one."

Amanda leaned back in her seat and twirled her pen between her fingers. They had gone through all these victims and they all seemed credible. He couldn't just walk in and wipe them clean and demand no one talk to them or use their statements.

"Nick, we've got statements that coroborate her story, she's a good lead-"

"She's my wife."

Silence fell over the end of the squad room just as Finn walked through with a thin paper file in his hands. No one had anything to say to that. What were they supposed to say? What were they supposed to do now?

For a few more seconds, no one spoke. All eyes landed on Nick as he stood in front of the board, his short nails puncturing holes into the eraser in his hand. His biceps strained against his sleeves from how tense he was holding himself. The veins in his neck started to push out and come on display and his jaw ground down so deeply the muscles around his neck and chin began to flex.

"Nick, I'm so sorry." Olivia held her hands in front of her and started to move the ring around her finger. "You know the way this goes, we comb through old victims to find things to help put this man away. We can leave (Y/n) down to you, we won't go near her-"

"No, you won't. You don't get it, (Y/n) went through all of this and she didn't get help. It's too late for her now, she doesn't want anything to do with this so we get this guy with the victims and the evidence we do have. No one goes near my wife, don't even mention her in any part of this."

They couldn't force their way into (Y/n)'s life.

She was done with this. It was a decade ago and (Y/n) was trying to move on. Some victims couldn't move on unless they had closure, but (Y/n) didn't feel that way. She tried to get help, she moved on, she got her life together and she was finally somewhere that she was happy and proud and pleased with herself. No one was going to run in and ruin that for her.

Testifying or making statements and reliving everything was going to burden (Y/n) and make her feel down and drag her all the way back down when she had done so well putting herself back together. If they caught this guy, great, (Y/n) could rest easy knowing no one else would get hurt.

But at the end of the day, (Y/n) was a victim, she didn't have to think of anyone else. She had tried to help, she had done her part in this. They had her statements and her files, that was all they needed from her, talking to her wasn't going to help her.

"We've got five other victims, surely that's enough?" Amanda rolled her lips into a thin line and looked over at Olivia for confirmation.

If this was Amanda's significant other, she would feel the same way. She wouldn't want the team going to talk to her partner ot combing through their life to pick it apart and get them to retell their story. She would want her partner as far away from this mess as possible and Amanda could see where Nick was coming from.

Did they really need (Y/n) if they had the rest of these girls and their case would be built solidly around the new victims?

"Nick, are you sure this is what (Y/n) wants?"

"It took her months to open up to me, she doesn't want to keep living this nightmare. Liv… she's pregnant, you think stressing her out is a good idea right now? I know everything, whatever questions you have, I can answer. Leave her out of this."

His hand planted down on his hip, crushing his wife's picture against his trouser leg while his other hand moved to cup his chin. He scratched his nails down his jaw and rubbed until it felt like he was going to tear off a layer of skin.

This was what (Y/n) wanted, Nick knew that and he knew what would go through his wife's head when she found out about the investigation.

She would want nothing to do with this.

If they spoke to her about this, it would drag up all the past and send her spiralling down when she was finally back to a good place in her life. She wasn't having nightmares or sleepless nights anymore. She wasn't afraid to be around other people and she didn't flinch when in close contact with others.

Since the moment Nick met her back in college, he had done everything he could to help her. He moved at her pace, let her slowly open up to him over the course of almost eight months. They worked through things together, he had been there when she went to therapy and every part of her recovery, Nick had tried to be there by her side.

And (Y/n) was six and a half months pregnant now.

They were finally at a place in their lives where (Y/n) felt happy and able to start a family and have the life she always wanted. With Nick.

(Y/n) was even going to church with Nick and his family now. After everything she had gone through, she was going to church and keeping some of the little faith she had left. This case would set her back years in her recovery and when this went to trial, (Y/n) would undoubtedly be near her due date.

There was no chance in Hell that Nick would let Barba put his pregnant wife up on the stand and risk stressing her out and pushing her into labour.

It wasn't worth the risk.

***

Nick could feel all the energy draining out of him as he dragged his feet and plodded up the stairs. His fingers worked at the buttons on his sleeves and he rolled them up to his elbows as his chin tucked down into his chest and he sighed.

He could feel all the energy dwindling away from him like someone was draining him down to twenty percent. Less than a week back at work was draining him to his last reserves and he felt like he would be taking another week off sick as he still wasn't fully recovered yet.

He had shed his blazer jacket the moment he walked through the door and as he reached the top of the stairs, Nick undid the tie from his collar and whipped it off from around his neck.

"Carino?" He leaned in the bedroom and tossed his tie on the bed before he turned around and headed back into the hallway when he saw the room was empty.

A soft smile pulled at his tired lips when he noticed the light was on in the spare room.

When he poked his head around the door, he let his arms fold over his chest and he leaned his body into the door frame. One leg crossed over the other and his smile softened into something sweet as his eyes locked on his wife.

(Y/n) was sat cross-legged on the floor in the middle of the room with small piles of clothes surrounding her. Blankets stacked up near her right knee, onesies and vests in front of her and the few handmade boots she had made sat proudly in front of her legs.

"You've been busy," Nick's quiet comment caused (Y/n) to lift her head and when her eyes locked on him, she bit down no her lip, obscuring a charmingly sweet smile that made his heart melt.

She placed down the boots in her hand and ran her hands along her knees, but her heart sped up and she pressed her lips together tightly when she watched her husband. He seemed to grin down at her before something caught his eye and he tilted his head back. His eyes swept around the room a few times before his head turned to the left and he looked over the wall beside him.

"Have you painted again?" The sigh was visible in the way his chest puffed out then deflated. Nick moved away from the doorframe and took a few steps into the room so he could look up at the walls.

They had painted the first coat on the walls two days before he went off sick from work. They spent the next few days lounging around the house with Nick too tired and run down to do anything. And when he had gone back to work, he didn't think about the second coat of paint that the walls needed. The room was a very pale shade of grey that had hints of lilac mixed in. It was a neutral colour since they were keeping the gender a secret.

"Maybe," (Y/n) tilted her head down and shrugged when Nick huffed.

"And you thought it would be safe to get up on the ladder without me home? What if you fell?"

If she wanted to paint, Nick would of preferred (Y/n) just painted the part of the walls she could reach and leave the skirting edges at the ceiling for him to do. He didn't like the thought of her getting up on a ladder without him here, especially when she was home alone. If she fell or hurt herself or knocked herself out she wouldn't have a way to get help.

(Y/n) lifted her head when Nick crouched down in front of her, being mindful of the clothes she was trying to sort out and had piled around her like a circle of protection.

Her lips curved up and a shiver ran down her spine when his hand cupped her chin so he could plant a soft kiss on her lips.

"Sorry… I got the crib out too but I got a bit sidetracked." She let her eyes dance across to the side of the room before she looked back at Nick and gently traced her hand across his neck.

She could feel the growl that vibrated through his shirt and up his neck which made his jaw shudder. He leaned forward to steal another kiss before his eyes locked on the right side of the room. The crib should have been flat-packed and still in the box he had leant up against the wall. Instead, the instructions were on the floor beneath the window, the tool box was at the ready and all the pieces were set out into rows very neatly.

"You know that's my job, you should be resting."

He spoke against her lips, letting each word fan across her dark lips before he gave in to temptation and kissed her again, pulling her lower lip between his teeth. He didn't want (Y/n) doing everything and he didn't want her overworking herself when his back was turned and he left the house.

"Come on, I think you've earned a break." Nick moved his hands round until he was holding the back of (Y/n)'s elbows and he let her hands fall on his shoulders.

He slowly eased her up to her feet with him but his brows raised and his eyes widened when (Y/n) leaned forward. Her hands moved from his shoulders to wrap around his neck and her face buried forward in his chest near his collar bone.

A tender look crossed his face and his lips quirked into a sideways smile as (Y/n) leaned forward into him. He slid his hands down to her waist and planted his hands flat on her lower back with his arms pressing lovingly into her sides. Nick held her against his chest for a little while with his cheek pressed on the top of her head.

He began to sway them from side to side as if soft music was lulling in the background.

His hand moved to rub up and down her back and his other hand slid further down to cup her bum while he pressed his lips longingly to the top of her head. They stayed like that for another minute or more, but Nick could feel his smile starting to fade when (Y/n) didn't let him go.

She tightened her arms around his neck when he tried to lean back to look down at her.

"Carino… is everything okay?" The words vibrated through her hair and he pressed another kiss against her temple while his hand stopped against the middle of her back. His thumb began to glide up and down over the back of her shirt but he kept swaying them from side to side to try and keep the serenity around them.

"Did you see the news today?"

(Y/n)'s voice came out as quiet as a whisper on the wind but she didn't want to pull away. Not yet. She could feel the first few buttons of Nick's shirt were undone and she nuzzled her nose against his chest until she could rest her cheek against his bare skin, nudging his shirt out the way.

"No, we were driving round town all day doing interviews, why? What did it say?" Nick had been driving for the best part of his twelve hour shift and when he wasn't in the car, he was asking questions and taking down notes. Two out of the five previous victims they were talking to had refused to talk to them and clammed up when they arrived.

It hadn't been a very productive day and Nick was glad to be home. He didn't have time to watch the news.

"A reporter has confirmation that… that a priest in the area is under suspicion of sexual allegations… it's him."

(Y/n) kept her face buried into Nick's chest and she felt the sharp breath he took and how his stomach tensed and pulled inwards against her. His hand pressed down deeper into her back and he tilted his head so he could rest his chin on top of her hair.

As soon as she saw it on the news, (Y/n) hurriedly turned the tv off. She didn't dare turn it back on after that and when she did, she had gone straight to the movie channels so no news would pop up.

(Y/n) didn't want to listen or read whatever they were spouting. She didn't want to see his picture pop up on the screen and remind her of the nightmares she had tried to forget. She didn't need his face back in her memory when she had finally started to forget what he looked like and in her dreams, he appeared as a faceless blurr.

Nor did (Y/n) want to hear what he was accused of and hear how old the other girls were. She didn't need to be reminded that this predator was still out on the streets because no one had taken her seriously or listened to her as a teenager.

"The case landed on Liv's desk when I went off sick. I have to work the case and look into it." Nick knew he needed to tell (Y/n), but he thought he would have another few weeks before any reports got leaked and the media found out what and who they were investigating. He wanted to sit (Y/n) down and calmly tell her about this so she had some forwarning instead of finding out like this.

He felt the shudder than ran through her body and seemed to pass right into him. He could feel the sharp breaths she took but instead of pulling out of his arms, she held him tighter. (Y/n) unlocked her arms from his neck and slid her hands down so she could loop them beneath his arms and bound them tightly around his chest.

"Do I… Nick, I don't wanna…" Tears burned in the corners of (Y/n)'s eyes as she finally pulled back enough to look up at him.

Her chin pressed down into his chest so her head could tip back and stare up at her husband. She could see the emotions pooling deep in his brown eyes and his lips parted for a few seconds while he tried to think of something to say.

"Shh, carino it's okay. You don't have to do anything, I swear. You're not part of this investigation, no one will talk to you and you're not going anywhere near that trial when it starts."

His hand moved up from her bum and curled loosely around the back of her neck so he could lean down and smother his lips against her forehead. He could feel the heat radiating from her skin and the light trembling that settled in her bones. This is what he was afraid of. This is what Nick tried to tell the team. He knew (Y/n) like the back of his hand and he knew she wouldn't want any part of this.

"Really?" (Y/n) hated how much her voice wobbled and her nails dug into Nick's back when he replaced his lips with his temple against hers.

As soon as it came on the news, (Y/n) had fought hard not to go into a panic and she stopped herself from going down to the station to talk to Nick. She didn't want to bother him at work but to distract herself, she had spent the day in the nursery. The thought of their impending baby had been a great distraction to (Y/n), she painted the nursery, got the crib out into sections and started on the clothes.

(Y/n) didn't want to testify.

She didn't want to open up to anyone else about the torment she had gone through as a teen. She didn't want the sympathy looks she got from others and she didn't want the people her husband worked with to look at her like that or hear the gruesome details of her abuse.

It happened a long time ago and (Y/n) wanted to move on. She and Nick were happy, they were having a baby and starting their family together; this was the last thing they needed.

"Really. For you, this is over. That shit on the news has nothing to do with you Carino."

"Do they know?"

The pain in her voice was more than clear and it made Nick's lungs seize up. He wanted to tell her no. He wanted to say the team had no idea what she had gone through, but he could never lie to her.

None of their friends knew what (Y/n) had gone through and Nick's family only found out a few small details after they got engaged. While she had been his girlfriend, his family had no idea what she had gone through and all Nick disclosed to his parents and sister was that (Y/n) had gone through a degree of abuse as a teenager. He didn't say an specifics or who it had involved, when, where or how long for.

They knew the basics and only what they desperately needed to know. That was how they both wanted it to be.

(Y/n) leaned her head to the right when both Nick's hands moved to cup her face. His thumb swiped across her cheek and cleared away a tear that started to fall and he tipped her head down so he could press a longing kiss to her forehead.

"They had your name and the old reports. I took it down before they could look any further into it. As far as they're concerned, your name's been erased."

Nick was glad he got to the board before any of the team looked through all of (Y/n)'s case files and before they got to speak to her. As far as the team were concerned, when Nick scrubbed (Y/n)'s name off the board, he was erasing her from the entire investigation.

Olivia had agreed not to tell Barba that they had a sixth past victim. They hadn't told him that they had a victim who refused to speak to them, they hadn't told him Nick had a personal link to this investigation. As far as everyone else knew, (Y/n) wasn't involved in this, her name wouldn't come up. And now she was married to Nick, her last name was officially Amaro and had been for the last two years. She wasn't connected to this case anymore.

"You have nothing to worry about, carino. Okay?"

The small, tepid smile that graced (Y/n)'s lips was enough to calm her down and stop her from falling into floods of tears. She nodded her head in his hands and reached up to grip his wrists, as if silently telling him not to dare let go.

She pushed up on her toes and connected their lips, mumbling a quiet 'thank you' into his mouth which he swallowed up as he devoured her lips.

"Anything for you, carino."

[im-just-a-boy-guys]

Naga bf that wakes up in the middle of the night, feeling very cold, and their human mate is right there, suffering from mild cold, feverish and super warm (asleep or not, it's up to you :3)

@slightly-knot-insane

NAGA/SNAKE HYBRID BF/ MASC/ X / ANY READER

I actually want a Naga bf so badly, @slightly-knot-insane . Ty.

(Just like usual, I'm going to do my best to make this gender/sex/size neutral (not ALL of my stories are byt yk. <3 if you have tips on how to do this better lmk <3)

(Imagine this but with purple instead of green :3)

I had been sick for the past week. It was a miserable cold, sinus blockage accompanied by cold sweats and excessive feverish shaking.

My boyfriend, Inferno, did his best to tend to me. He'd bring me soup and various things he thought would help. At night or any time I'd lay down to sleep, he'd wrap around me - his cold skin pressing desperately against my burning flesh.

It was one of the most relaxing feelings, and I couldn't help but keep as close to him as possible. Last night, however, he seemed extra needy, staying in bed with me all day, holding me there and telling me repeatedly to "Rest."

I woke to the moon shining brightly off of Inferno's beautiful, iridescent, purple scales. his pupils dilated as he watched me, my eyes opening softly to take in his appearance.

I could feel his cold tail creeping up my chin and gripping my ankle as my beloved stared deeply into my eyes. I pressed myself into his cold chest and sighed happily, melting against him.

Inferno ran his hands over my sides to my hips and dug his claws into me as herolled me over onto my side and gently pressed his newly found hardened cock against my panties, teasing himself into desperation for my wet warmth.

He'd been trying to contain himself while I was sick, but my constant fever drove him crazy.

He gripped the thin faneric and tore me out of my panties before thrusting his stiff length into my un-prepped hole. thankfully, his body made sure he was covered in his one lubrication before letting himself become fully erect enough to mate.

My beloved Naga couldn't resist letting his tongue lay against my skin. Sliding it all over my shoulder and neck, filling his senses with my scent and flavor.

His tail slinked up my leg further and gently rubbed over my clit as he plunged himself into me.

The violation was so unexpected but seemed well needed. My sinuses cleared slightly as we moved, and he held me tighter. I could feel his claws digging into tender flesh.

My body betrayed me and seemed to coat Inferno's length even more, making his movements much easier as he sped up. He breathed heavily over your shoulder and soon slipped his tongue down to your nipple, wrapping around it and flicking over it.

I panted and moaned, my breath syncing up with his as he moved inside of me. Within just a few minuites I was already squiriting on his cock, but he refused to stop, only throbbing in he as I rode out my orgasm.

"Oh my gooooood!", I whined, trying to press my hips back into the pleasure.

Inferno grunted in my ear before pinning me face down and ramming himself into me.

"Mine.." he groaned, pushing my face into the pillow. My hot breath was pushed back against my face as I felt his claws pressing against my skull.

His knot threatened to enter me, and he seemed to be trying to force it in.

"Im going to breed you - you've been driving me crazy-"

I tried to whine in protest and it only caused him to push me harder into the pillow, muffling my sounds.

I felt his cock throb against my walls and my body reacted well, contracting around him and gripping his length inside of me.

He pushed his knot into me and teased me, pulling his knot back against my g spot as he rode out his own orgasm, his hot, thick cum coating my walls.

The warmth felt amazing, and he just kept milking himself. I came harshly around him again as he pushed himself right up against my cervix screaming out.

We both breathed hard, and he laid across my back, holding onto me tightly.

We both laughed alittle as I moved my hair out of my face and cought my breath away from the pillow.

"You're going to be stuck for a second." After a moment he carefully worked his way out of me as his knot started to go down and curled around me, his tail wrapping around my lower calf as he spooned me.

Inferno rested his hand on my stomach and nuzzled my neck. "My beautiful mate."

I sighed and shook my head as I held his arms around me. I couldn't wait to be the mother to his children, however, that would play out.

(This one wasn't very long or descriptive but if you'd like a longer one let me know!)

[literaila]

HI! Would you want to write about tasm peter and a reader who is in a band?? I have realized on character ai that I can just tell characters that I'm in a band and I love to see their reaction. I just love the idea of being one of those cool people that play and sing

THANK YOU!!

singing

tasm!peter x reader

a/n: i know nothing about bands but i do know lots about singing in the shower

*

peter enjoys standing by the sink—pretending to brush his teeth—while you’re singing in the shower (even though you deny it every time he brings it up). he’ll run the water softly and take extra precautions over the health of his teeth. his dentist will be pleased.

he’s used to your voice. you sing everything.

you sing while you’re cleaning, or when you’re cooking dinner for the two of you. you’re always singing along to buzzing music when he meets you at your favorite coffee shop every thursday for lunch. you sing when putting your shoes on, and when dabbing at a fresh cut on his face.

you make up ridiculous songs about the things you’re doing, and laugh when peter walks in the room like you hadn’t noticed he was there. you change your voice and dance along and, honestly, peters not even sure if you’re aware you’re doing any of it.

he loves it all; if he knew as much music as you did, or was any less tone deaf, he would gladly sing along, and for once be apart of the sweet serenading rather than just flushing every time he knows you’re singing a song about him.

peter could listen to you and your voice and your silly little songs for days on end.

but he’s come to love you singing his name the most.

when you’re the first to wake up in the morning, and peter can feel you hum his name onto the skin of his cheek while you kiss him. when he comes home from a late night and you’re still awake, still happy to see him, and smile while you sing like he’s been away for longer than just a few hours.

when you’re messing with him, sing-songing peter just so he’ll frown at you. or when he interrupts you in the middle of your singing, his name becoming a slightly off pitch, slightly surprised exclamation.

if peter walks in the door and you’re not singing, then something is very wrong.

he’s listening to you now, adding toothpaste to his toothbrush for the second time. just to be safe.

when he hears the water turn off, he frowns and a dribble of minty spit falls from his mouth.

you startle when you open the shower door, eyes bright and skin glowing from the water. “peter,” you say—hum—soft and harsh. “why are you just standing there?”

peter mumbles something incoherent through his toothbrush.

you shake your head, but your lip twitches. “we talked about this. i’m tired of having to pick up new toothpaste every other week.”

peter grumbles.

“if you really miss me that much,” you tell him, purposefully bumping into him while you grab lotion from the cabinet, “you can just join me.”

peter spits and frowns. “you don’t sing when we shower together.”

he watches you glance at him from the corner of your eyes.

“i think you mean to say that i don’t sing in the shower ever, peter. it’s okay, we all get confused.”

“i’ve been standing here for the past ten minutes. i heard your rendition of it’s all coming back to me.”

you tilt your head at him, reaching a moisturized hand to touch his temple. “did you hit your head a bit too hard yesterday?”

peter laughs. “i don’t know why you’re so weird about it. i love it.”

“because you’re confused, peter. that’s why.”

“im confused,” he nods solemnly, “about why you continue to deny this.”

you sigh dramatically, turning back to the mirror and beginning to hum again—which peter might point out just proves his point, but he’s a bit too distracted to notice.

he could listen to your voice all day, or he could stare at you, like right now. watching your eyelashes brush your cheek and your smile reach the tip of your nose. he could just admire the slight glow of your skin under the light, or the amusement you’re trying to keep out of your eyes.

he could just wait for you to sing his name again.

“yes, peter?” you ask, after he’s been staring at you for thirty seconds too long.

“i was just wondering if i could join your band?”

your brows furrow inward and you laugh at him, subconsciously leaning your body towards him, and indiscreetly staring back at him in the mirror.

“i play a mean triangle.”

you wince. “ooh, yikes. we just hired a new triangle player. i’ll let you know how it works out.”

peter pretends to think for a moment. “it’s also been said that i’m pretty good with my mouth—“

you push him, laughing as he pushes you back. “that so?”

he nods.

“are you sure?” you ask, sounding doubtful. peters brows furrow at your tone.

he starts to say something but you cut him off. “you know,” you say, voice sly and soft. “we do have one position we need to fill.”

“what?”

“a new muse, of course.”

*

[bravrdm]

I’ve been feeling very dark lately so here’s an interesting idea I had…

Azriel would do anything for his sweet little human wife.

He would kill anyone for his sweet little human wife.

Including the annoying fucking men who gamble and drink outside of your apartment at 2 am.

You slammed your book closed In anger, and adjusted your bonnet. absolutely fuming at the group of idiots who have been showing up in front of your apartment complex almost every night for the past month now.

They do absolutely nothing but drink,gamble,and scream at the top of their lungs.

It didn’t help that the past few weeks you kept waking up with your bonnet and headscarf halfway across the bed trying to escape in the middle of the night.

You complained yet again to your husband. The poor shadowsinger hated seeing you upset. He hated that after a long day of stressing you couldn’t even relax and finish your book.

“I’m sorry pet.” Azriel looked offer to his beautiful wife admiring he dark skin and drinking in her beauty.

You sighed, and clinched your hands tightly all the way to the bedroom. Something told Azriel that his response wasn’t sufficient enough to settle your nerves.

So after you finally drifted to sleep Azriel snuck his way out of the apartment and waltzed his way down the stairs stopping in-front of the gaggle of men throwing their fists around and chugging their liquor.

Azriel is always a gentleman when it comes to affairs involving his wife. He knew If he jumped straight to murder you would feel guilty once you found out.

He would hide it from you for as long as he could but you would find out eventually.You always do.

So after sauntering up to the gang of rowdy men he politely asked if they would quiet down.

Well, he asked as politely as he could be.

“Im guessing you are all aware of the time”

The group of men all turned to you husband, displeased to be interrupted.

“You know maybe if you put all this energy into getting a fucking job you all would actually have someplace to be instead of disturbing everyone else’s peace.”

The men were not pleased by his suggestion.

They approached Azriel at once prepared to fight for their rights to disturb the peace.

Azriel only cared about his wife’s peace and the look on you face as you stomped into the bedroom upset and unsatisfied with his empty apology.

That’s the only thing he cared about : pleasing you.

There was a philosopher who once said that going to be angry wasn’t good for your health.

It probably wasn’t good for your marriage either.

So he didn’t mind doing things like this.

For you he didn’t mind going out of his way even if it meant he would suffer for it.

Just like he didn’t mind killing the entire group of males in less than a few moments.

He didn’t mind chasing after one of the males that tried to get away either.

He certainly didn’t mind cleaning up the carnage that was left behind after the massacre.

And as he fished cleaning and soon climbed into bed after you, a strong sense of satisfaction filled his heart knowing his mate would never have to go to bed angry again.

Sorry if this shit was ass it’s been a while since I’ve written.

[lethalchiralium]

No More | [7] | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: I AM SO SORRY IM TAKING FOREVER - mega thanks to @as-is-above-so-below for always delulu-ing with me

warnings: mentions of death, cancer, past trauma. cussing, cod and top gun canon violence is a given!

summary: You could hear the bells, calling you home as you sat in the plane. Even when Ghost kept you close, those bells beckoned - and not just for you. OR, you’re at the beck and call of the US Military.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

Eyes flickered to the alarm clock, the numbers blaring red - practically silently screaming 3:37AM.

You shouldn’t be whimpering.

He had sat up at 3:25, hoping you would wake from what seemed to be a bad dream and just roll over, grumble something about him stealing the blanket and fall back asleep. You didn’t even budge when he rested his hand on your chest to feel you breathe at 3:30. The whimpers began at 3:34, your arms moving to your chest as if to shield yourself, perhaps make yourself smaller.

He tried humming, whispering your name. He didn’t want to wake you, in the real morning was a long day and he had you up until way past midnight. There was just something that sounded like fear in the way you mumbled, the way fear began to curl around you like a deadly snake.

He was going to speak louder this time, but maybe make sure you wouldn’t try to kill him again. It was 3:38AM when his hands gently tucked your wrists into his one handed grasp.

��Love.”

Nothing but a silent murmur escaped your lips, eyes perfectly relaxed and still. Your arm jutted a bit, an eyebrow twitched but nothing more than the mumbling.

“Mercy.”

His hand rubbed soft circles into your collarbone and chest, the pads of his beaten hands worked softness into the skin of a martyr - you.

“Darling, c’mon.”

Gentle patting from his fingers, your eyebrows twitched a bit more. A twitch of your wrist and your eyes squeezed tight. With the hand holding your wrists, he rocked you gently, still speaking words louder than whispers.

“Mercy, c’mon, wake up.”

It was 3:41AM when you woke in a cold sweat, heart pounding and hands pressed together by a grip. Panic ran through your body as you pushed on the hand, even as you heard the soft,

“Y/N, it’s okay. It’s Simon. You’re okay.”

“Let-Let go-“ You whimpered, pushing more against Simon’s hands with your arms, but he was about to keep your wrists flush to the ratty t-shirt he had thrown on you earlier in the night.

“No, not until you calm down.” The hand rubbing circles on your chest ceased, settling in the middle of your chest to feel your rapid breaths. He had dealt with panic attacks like this for far too long, but sleeping next to you for as long as he has, he has never seen you wake up panicked. It was like the one before was the beginning of something.

Your hands stretched upwards, you tried to push them out of his grip but you couldn’t, you were trying to breathe but he wasn’t helping. “I-I can’t-“

“You can, love. Breathe f’me.” Simon would be lying if he said he didn’t take notes from what you did with him when he was like this. Get you to breathe, get you to listen to him, sit you up, get you something to drink. It was easy in theory - maybe not so much in practice for him. After a few moments, your chest rose for a while before you let out a long breath, trying to steady yourself. “Good, good girl.”

It only took a few more moments before you really calmed down, your heart still racing but that was fine enough for Simon. You knew he was there, you hopefully knew where you were, and you were calming down. Your eyes closed, you were breathing deeper when he finally let go.

“‘m sorry.” The voice that left your lips did not sound like your own, something that seemed to start become normal now. He knew you as a strong person, bold and fearless - it seemed like you had suddenly heard thunder and ducked under the covers, just like a little kid.

His hand gently patted your chest, one of your hands settled upon it. He breathed a little easier underneath his balaclava, knowing he could barely see you with the moonlight but he knew your face. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” His hand settled on your cheek, knowing exactly where it was. You sniffled, moving to kiss his palm.

“Let’s get ready to go now.”

Simon looked over to the clock. 3:45AM. You didn’t have to be at base until 5:30. He looked back to you, his thumb threaded across your cheek.

“Okay.”

•••

There was a moment when Ghost realized you had fallen victim to slumber on the plane ride to Miramar, California, and it was when your arms tightened around his without warning. He was staring at Soap, who had rolled over in his sleep thirteen times in the last ten minutes. Gaz was as still as a boulder so he had no need to worry about him falling off the seats. So, he looked down at you.

With Cerberus tucked into a ball at your feet, your face wasn’t contorted with pain or fear - you were calm. It was such a stark contrast to what he had witnessed in the early morning. He had never seen your gaze so wild, terrified; You were a trained killer, stoic and confident in your abilities. He has seen nothing faze you, absolutely nothing.

You were changed on that mission with the Ghosts, something came undone and he didn’t know how to fix it - how to fix you. The part that had come loose was something he’s never dealt with before, something you keep so close that it mirrored how closely he kept his secrets. It had been a year and almost nine months and it was growing more and more difficult to understand you; Especially now that he knows something’s wrong and he can’t help you the way he wants to, he knows you’re hurting and he has no remedy to take away your pain. All he wanted was to make you okay again, make you happy. Because this hollow shell was not you.

You were protecting yourself, just like he does. Rip apart the two beings and shield only one, letting the other take the bullet holes, take the hits, take the pain. Ghost protects Simon, Mercy protects you. You two were one in the same - fucked to all hell. Yet, he still hoped your hurt didn’t run as deep as his, that it’s something he can help you heal from. Lord knows what you’ve unconsciously done to help him heal.

He spent the rest of the flight watching over his fellow soldiers, noting that Alejandro was a soundless sleeper and that Soap kicked in his sleep when he was laying on his stomach. He always knew he was a snorer, them being friends and exes, having to sleep in the same bed sometimes during missions. Price only moved if he woke up, so seeing the man in the same position he had been for the last couple of hours meant he was out like a light. And of course, your hellhound was silent as he slept.

You usually made no sounds when you slept, only the occasional movement but the grip you had on his arm had never diminished since you had fallen asleep. It was unusual, it made Simon feel anxious. It worried him, especially the way you were terrified when you woke up in the night. By the time everyone had woken up when the plane landed, your hands had left his arm. He watched through hazel eyes as you stared at your pants, counting your equipment and keeping a hand on his knife in your thigh sheath; if he didn’t know better, he’d say it was a comfort. But it wasn’t, he knew it wasn’t - it was a reminder that you had physically hurt him, unconscious or not. And that he hurt you by pushing you away those weeks ago. It almost seemed like you two were bad for each other, two people who should get away from each other but can’t.

His gloved hand gently patted your lower back, you turned your head to look at him and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. The look in your eye was fear - something he has only seen in the dark of your shared bedroom.

“Y/N-“

“Mercy,” Price’s voice boomed from his seat towards the front of the plane, you were quick to stand. His hand instantly retracted to his side as Cerberus stood, instantly moving out of the way as Ghost watched you with intent when Price continued, “Laswell says the safe house isn’t cleared yet, got a place to lay low?”

“Lay low, sir?” You sort of chuckled as you slung your duffle over your shoulder. “This isn’t exactly a fully fledged mission.”

“It is your hometown.” He countered. “We’re here under the orders of the US Navy.”

You shrugged. “I mean, I do but I’ve got a bit of business before we head out.”

“Pray tell.” Soap snickered but Alejandro elbowed him in the ribs, muttering something in Spanish that you couldn’t quite hear.

“Anyway, look, keep your head down and don’t cause a scene. They’re a bit weird about foreigners.” Your eyes moved to Soap, who was biting his tongue to stop himself from bursting into laughter. The hand at your side was poked by Cerberus’s wet nose, you didn’t even glance.

“Isn’t that normal from Americans?” Gaz piped up, you shrugged.

“It’s more of that this is quite literally the best of the best American fighter pilots you’ll ever meet. They don’t like any outsiders, even if they are brothers in arms.” You moved away from Simon and towards the back of the plane and Alejandro. “Get yourself acquainted with the base, gentlemen.” The sunshine you had grown up in began to infect the cargo bay of the plane, painting you and your teammates in golden glimmer. You watched the cargo ramp descend and the shapes of vehicles and personnel appear on the tarmac. “And let me be the first to welcome you to Fightertown, USA.”

Price had his duffle on his shoulders and was standing beside you as the ramp finally hit the ground, you two walked towards the personnel that began to rush up the ramp to unload the strapped in cargo. The silhouettes left were dressed in khaki, aviator sunglasses perched high on noses, and dress shoes polished to shine like the sun they baked in. The only problem was that of the two officers waiting for your arrival included a man who desperately hated your father, which meant he desperately despised you.

Vice Admiral Beau “Cyclone” Simpson, the Air Boss.

“Admiral Simpson.” You called out to the man, hands now settled on your hips, just above one hip holster - you could practically feel Cerberus’s need to pounce on him to rip him to shreds as he stood beside you. The man wore mirrored aviator sunglasses, a permanent frown etched upon his face - it wasn’t hard to guess that he was assessing you, like he always does. You’re always a threat to his cushy job.

“You were supposed to be dead, Y/N Mitchell.”

You bit back the raging urge to tell him off, speaking with an even voice, “Sorry, sir. As my track record states, I’m hard to kill.”

He gave a half-hearted chuckle before stepping forwards, putting his hand out for Price to take - which he does. “Vice Admiral Beau Simpson, you’re-?“

“Captain John Price with British SAS.” You were surprised by the bite in your captain’s tone, something you could catch but you were certain Simpson could not. Price took Simpson’s hand, shaking it before letting go - you didn’t even move your hand to meet Simpson’s since you knew the only time he had ever shook your hand was before he knew you were the adopted spawn of Peter “Maverick” Mitchell. ‘Anyone associated with Maverick is trouble’, he had said. Sure, dickhead. At least he has more of a heart than you do.

The Admiral was known for being a judgmental dickhead, but you were great at observing his micro expressions - he was sizing up your captain, most likely trying uncover a weakness or just purely bully Price under his thumb. Luckily for you, you know Price is a man who will defy authority to do what was right, so he wouldn’t listen to the bullshit that would definitely spew from Simpson’s mouth.

“Where is the other Captain?” He questioned, moving his head to look behind both of you. “A Captain L/N. I was told he was going to be joining as well.” He then looked to you, the mirrored reflection in his sunglasses smiled. “What’s so funny, Lieutenant Mitchell?”

You cleared your throat. “Nothing, sir. Just thinking about my precious statement of being hard to kill.”

There was a minuscule movement of the Admiral’s nostrils flaring as he spoke, “‘Hard to kill’, you say. Despite my best efforts, both of you Mavericks refuse to retire, and by your best efforts, you both refuse to die.”

“It’s the Mitchell way, sir.”

He hardly gave you a murmur of fake laughter. “And that includes being a pain in my ass, Reaper?”

Your smile got bigger. “Mercy, sir.”

“Excuse me?”

“My call sign is Mercy.” You stood a little straighter, one hand digging out your dog tags to show to the Admiral. “And no, sir.”

The Admiral barely glanced at your new dog tags. “No?”

“The Mitchell way does not include being a pain in the ass, sir. But I am Captain L/N, sir.” You answered, one hand subtly gripping the handle of your pistol as the other came back to rest on your belt. “Medical Captain Y/N ‘Mercy’ L/N.”

The Admiral’s facial expression didn’t change, but you knew he was surprised. Everyone was surprised you hadn’t gotten yourself killed the last time you flew a F-18. “Never would’ve thought I’d see a pilot like you get a promotion.” He mocked you, but it bounced off of your mental armor. All the damage he could even think about inflicting on you would not affect your performance, you didn’t seek praise anymore. You kept a sharp glare, staring directly into his sunglasses as he continued. “Lieutenant Seresin will escort you to the Commander’s office, he’s waiting for you.”

Your heart lurched into your throat. You had barely touched down and Ice was already here to see you? Something had to be going on, especially if they’re making your career-long rival, Jake “Hangman” Seresin, escort you.

Simpson then turned back to Price. “Then I will personally escort your team on a tour of our North Island Air Base.”

You looked to Price, now noticing that Ghost was standing off to the side of the Captain - if he was a dog, you’d be able to see all of his hair standing up, his hackles raised and teeth bared, ready for a fight. A guard dog, but for who? You or Price?

“Mitchell.” You then looked back at the Admiral. “You’re dismissed.”

“Yes sir.” Nodding to him, you turned to Cerberus and spoke sternly, “Follow Price.” And as the smart dog he was, your search and rescue dog moved to sit next to Price, you then departed from your team - only getting a few feet’s before you heard Alejandro call out, “Hermana.”

You turned to the Colonel. He held his hand out, saying, “Dame tu bolso. ¿Qué está pasando? ¿Estás en problemas?”

You shook your head, pulling your duffle off of your shoulder and moving to hand it to him. “No te preocupes. Me odian por muchas razones.” Alejandro gave you a crazed look as he took your duffle, almost going to speak again but you had turned away, “Gracias, hermano!” You walked a few feet behind the Admiral and towards the open top Jeep. Beside it stood the other aviator, the one you chose to ignore because he has been a dick to you and your two best friends since you three had started flight school.

“Hangman. As I live and breathe.”

Jake Seresin gave you a once over, anger bubbling in your stomach as he smiled with his pearly white teeth. “I’ll be damned, Mitchell, you look…” Another glance up and down your figure and your hand settled on your pistol. “Good.”

A faux innocent smile appeared on your lips. Play it cool, keep your head down, and you’ll get out quicker. “I am good, Hangman. I’m very good.”

He held a hand out with his signature fake ass smile on his lips, “After you, princess.”

You gave one last glance to your team; both Alejandro and Price had their eyes on Simpson, but Soap and Gaz were more focused on Seresin, while Simon stared at you. You mouthed, “Sorry.” before starting to walk beside Hangman. The California heat was almost suffocating, but you knew you’d manage, even with your insulated pants. You had survived the heat almost all your life, you just had to get used it.

“Didn’t expect you to still be in the military.” Hangman broke the silence, his voice held no malice, no mocking tone that he always used with you. You looked at him through your peripheral vision, his head was kept straight as you two walked towards the largest building on base. “Thought you went AWOL after your crash.” A pause before he spoke quieter. “Since you broke it off with Chicken.”

You turned your head to stare at Hangman, the anger in your chest began to flood your blood, thumping through your heart. “And when has that ever been your business?”

Hangman smiled at you, it was friendly but still tense. “Since I had to deal with Rooster for seven years without a fuck you or what do you need from you.”

“As if you’d ask for help from me.” You looked straight ahead again, the weight of your gear felt heavier as you approached the main building. “And Rooster’s been fine.”

He scoffed, half of a laugh came from his throat. “Sure, and I’m a billionaire.”

If you weren’t already in deep shit with the Navy for even stepping foot on an American base, you would’ve tripped Hangman’s sorry ass and beat him to a pulp. You were just coming back for a favor with your dad and maybe something connecting to Makarov, but now you were being sent to the principal’s office. But, to be quite frank, you’re the principal’s favorite, so something else has to be going on since you almost never got in trouble with Iceman.

Hangman used to be a threat; more of a menace to your ego, but now, he’s a bug that you could easily flick off your arm. Being rivals with him for almost all of your flying career was not fun, he made your life and Rooster’s Hell - it was a good thing your backbone grew stronger since you left.

The elevator ride was awkward and quiet. You pondered if you were even allowed to have all of these weapons on base; you were back in England and every other military installation the 141 had been deployed to. Two guns, four knives strapped to your chest, two large knives strapped to the sides of your thighs - not to mention the plethora of magazines on your belt. You were a walking nightmare, you found it intriguing how Hangman didn’t seem intimidated - if he was, he kept it well hidden. Your eyes were kept on the silver doors, only going up four levels to the fifth floor. The amount of times you had used this elevator to walk to your godfather’s office with lunch in hand, or behind an admiral or three. As much as your dad had done to piss off as many admirals as fast as he could, he was the only Mitchell kicked around the entire West Coast and not kicked out. Ice had kept you as his right hand aviator, and no matter how much you pissed off an admiral, you still had your job and home in Miramar. It was a privilege to still be in the military, you knew that. You would never take Ice’s kindness for granted.

Unlike some people.

By the time you had reached the receptionist, you felt uneasy. Maybe it was the regret of not saying goodbye when you left, maybe it was the thought that Ice hated you for leaving him without his best weapon, maybe it was the fact that everything you had dreaded for seven years and had packed away was about to be ripped open. You hated feeling nervous, you felt that it made you sloppy, unfocused - nervous used to mean good, nervous used to mean you did well. Now, nervous means death.

You focused back in on your surroundings, now seeing that the receptionist looked up at you, the smile disappearing from their face. “Uh, Lieutenant Mitchell-“

“I was told the Commander’s expecting me.” You spoke, hands settling on your hips. The small man pushed his Coke-bottle glasses up his nose farther, looking somewhat nervous as he looked to Hangman.

“Well?” Hangman spoke, gesturing to you. “Don’t leave a lady waiting.”

He sprung to his feet, the scuffle of his shoes were loud against the linoleum as he made his way towards the office you always felt safe in.

You glanced at the beach tanned asshole, a snide smirk on his handsomely punchable face. “Didn’t need the back up.”

“It’s called manners, little man like him should know them.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s rich coming from you, Seresin.”

You watched the receptionist nod towards you, you gave Hangman one last look. Be the bigger person. “It was nice to see you, Hangman.”

The blond smiled. “Good luck, kid.”

It was like the walk of shame to the principal’s office, but you somehow weren’t as nervous as you were before. This was your Uncle, a man you’ve known all your life - a man who has never let you down, one who always had your back.

As soon as you made it to his door, you read the placard you have read for years before. Commander of the US Pacific Fleet, Tom Kazansky. You knocked on the door before entering, ready to tackle him in a hug. But as you pushed the door open, your heart dropped. You took a moment to take in the image before you.

Who used to be a tall, healthy, and vibrant man now sat withered in a fancy leather chair. Your heart wilted like a flower that hasn’t seen rain in weeks. He still smiled at you, your godfather - his favorite scarf tucked around his neck, a nice comfy coat on him.

It reminded you of when he was first diagnosed with cancer, you had never seen someone so sick before you saw your Uncle Tom in a hospital bed, hooked up to hundreds of wires and tubes. You were a kid then, unaware that even though your favorite uncle would live, and your surrogate mother would die of cancer instead.

Your voice wavered as you spoke, “Hi, Uncle Ice.”

It took him a moment to stand, he looked frail and it broke your heart, yet he still outstretched his arms. It didn’t even take you more than half a second to embrace him; it’s been years and you truly missed Ice. He was warm, a comforting soul that always made you feel safe.

He pulled away, looking back to his chair to make sure he was able to sit down. You instantly held his hands, helping him down. The part of you that still was that happy-go-lucky Naval Aviator shattered into a million pieces. It didn’t take you more than a moment after you saw him to know that the cancer was back.

“How are you?” Your voice didn’t waver as you pulled your own chair from the other side of the desk, you set it a couple feet from him. He smiled at you, nodding before he turned to his computer screen.

His last bout of cancer had placed pressure on his vocal cords, but he had surgery to fix them. You knew he was at risk for the cancer to come back, but you thought after all of this time that it wouldn’t. If he wasn’t able to speak now, that meant the cancer was back. The little kid in your heart was sobbing, you remembered how worried your dad and Rooster’s mom were when he had cancer - you were only ten, Rooster a couple years older. If anything, you were grateful that he beat it. You have had many great memories with him, from going on vacations with him and his kids to training for Top Gun. He was your mentor, and to know that he could be taken away from you so soon hurt you in a way that no bullet hole or plane crash ever could.

I’m doing well. I’ve been so excited to see you again. |

The smile that tugged at your lips hurt your cheeks, that meant the world to know that at least someone didn’t hate you. “I’m happy to see you too. Are you… What’s going on with you?”

Don’t worry about me. You must be curious as to why I asked you to be here.|

You gave him a confused look. “Well, I’m not usually summoned via military transport.”

He smiled, a little huff of air from nose hinted to you that he had laughed. But the smile had dropped almost instantly after as he typed again.

I need you in the air. |

Your eyebrows furrowed, your heart began to race. “Ice, I don’t… I haven’t flown in almost seven years.”

He waved his hand, a dismissive expression on his face as he began to type again.

It doesn’t matter. I have faith in you. |

“I’ll fuck up.” You answered simply, a chill ran up your spine as you had a flash of Ukraine in the back of your head. The bitter cold of your pistol in your hand, the terror you felt when you heard enemy fire.

He gave with a look full of warmth, understanding.

It’s a six man mission. I need my best. |

The back of your hand instinctively went up to tap your nose, trying to pull yourself from the deep hole you were close to free falling in. You met Ice’s eyes, worry in your eye - he must truly be losing it.

“Ice, if you needed your best, you should have called Rooster and Rodeo.” Your voice was small, reserved. Much different than your typical confidence that oozed from you now that you were an accomplished captain.

He furrowed his brows, typing again.

You’re not here because of the Ball. You’re here because I want you on this mission. You are my best. |

You shook your head, almost standing if it wasn’t for your uncle gently putting a hand out - he then went back to the computer.

It’s you or it’s Mav. |

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Why wouldn’t you put both of us on?”

He gave you a somber look and the church bell that tolled in your head sounded, echoed of your impending doom. Heart rate increased, body heating up as your hands squeezed each other.

The clicking of keys and he had said it.

I’m not sure if he will come back. But I know you would. |

“From my assignment?”

His eyes softened.

From a crash. |

Your eyes stung instantly. Your skin became dotted with goose flesh underneath all of your gear, you felt sick.

I know it doesn’t mean much, but I believe in you. I always have. I always will. |

Your stomach swirled, tying into a tight knot. Fighting down the urge to throw up then, you spoke.“You mean a lot to me, Ice.” The tears that fell down your face were little, barely there but he still frowned.

I’m so sorry, ladybug.|

Your heartbeat was fast, it made you nauseous. You have seen bloodshed, have snapped necks and popped eyes with your thumbs, yet the thought of flying has you nauseous; you hated that feeling, but it was normal. You were scared.

There is a dufflebag next to the door. New flight suit, dog tags, and helmet with your callsign on it. You’re going to be training with the other candidates, but you will ultimately have the lead. Do you understand? |

A small nod, your head filled up with cotton. This was your worst nightmare, literally being played out like the worst hand of cards you’ve ever been dealt. You stood, he stood too. There was just a pause, a knowing glance. He didn’t want to force you to be here, but he had to. There was no resentment in your heart. He was doing his job. You hugged him again, whispering your goodbye before grabbing your bag. Your hand grabbed the door, when a weak voice spoke your name.

You instantly turned to face Ice again, he gave you a smile.

“Knock ‘em dead, kid.”

•••

Hangman was nowhere to be found when you left the office. The tight grip you had on the small Navy-issued dufflebag made you feel nauseous. You had hoped and prayed for so long that you would never have to be under the Fightertown sun because of military orders, yet here you were - walking out of the main building and feeling the sunshine you used to love with so much of your soul. The sunshine that used to feel like fun, what used to taste like sugar now gave you a bitter taste in your mouth.

You didn’t belong here. Not anymore.

Sweat beaded on your hairline, your skin felt too hot, yet it felt like you had walked into your memory. You could almost pinpoint every step you took on this hot tarmac, every streak your jet’s tires had left when you took off. You could remember every argument you had with your superiors, every time you flew two-seater with Rooster or your shared best friend, Rhett “Rodeo” Abbott. You needed someone to make you feel safe.

Your phone was in your hand before you knew it.

YOU: Are you awake?

There was only a beat before Rooster texted back.

ROOS: What’s up

YOU: Can I call you

ROOS: Yes

“Why didn’t you tell me about Ice?”

A yawn. “What about ‘im?”

You gripped the dufflebag tighter to stop yourself from snapping at him. “I-“ You instantly remembered that Rooster was not to know that you were here. If he saw you, he would freak out. You couldn’t handle him freaking out, much less freaking out about Simon being here too. “Dad sent me a picture of him, why does he look like he had cancer again?” Your lie was smooth, you gazed around the tarmac, trying to find your team.

“I… Yeah. Yeah, he does. Won’t tell me if it’s terminal or not.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“And why would you care? It’s not like you’ve ever been back to Miramar to even see anyone.”

You bit your tongue for just a second. “Please don’t be that way.”

“What? Truthful?”

“Please don’t be that way when you know why I can’t come back.”

There was a pause, you heard him moving on the line. “I’m sorry.” Another moment. “I just… I miss having you around. I didn’t mean it.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest, your eyes finally settled on the the inky body of your dog beside the intimidating posture of one Captain Price from across the tarmac. “Sorry I haven’t been back.”

“I don’t come back either. Not really any point to being here when my favorite person isn’t.”

“Rooster, stop saying that.”

“I’m not lying.”

You gripped the dufflebag tighter than you ever have.

“It’s not a lie. Can’t I just miss my best friend?”

“Of course you can.” Another beat, your voice quieter than before as you kept walking towards the 141. “I just don’t wanna be here.”

You could almost see his confused face from that sentence, you knew him very well. “Be where?”

“I’m here.” Another pause, a heartbeat before you murmured, “I’m here with my team.”

“No, you’re not.”

Simon’s gaze instantly locked on you and it felt bone-crushing. The weight of the guilt above your head made you feel even more nauseous than before, he felt like your lighthouse in the midst of the hurricane.

“Hard Deck. Two days. 6pm.”

“Bet your ass I’ll see you there.”

You ended the call as you watched Simpson finish whatever boring speech he gave your team, you could see poor Soap begging you with his eyes to save him. He nodded at your team before turning around, his gaze full of venom - one that would have terrified you when you were a young pilot. But now? He just looked childish.

He walked towards you, your hands clenched as he spoke to you, quiet enough so your team wouldn’t hear. “I’m not sure why Iceman, in all of his infinite wisdom, would choose you. So don’t blow the test run, it would be… disappointing.” Simpson patted your shoulder before sneering, “Let’s hope you don’t waste another jet.”

Don’t touch him. Don’t fucking punch him. Stay calm. Stay fucking calm.

You clenched your jaw so hard, you thought your molars could have snapped in half. But with a fake smile, you took a step away from him. “And you acting like a child is exactly why your wife divorced you, Simpson.” You briskly walked past him, your hand fell to your hip where you used your recall gesture - Cerberus came running. He heeled right beside you, walking in line with you as you grew closer to your team. Your lighthouse was almost in reach, the tide was breaking in the rocks and you could finally reach land.

“Ready to go, kid?” Price asked, your grip on your new and smaller dufflebag loosened. Safety. A little nod sent his way and the 141 turned away towards the main gates, your friends making small talk about the size of the base and the proximity to the sunny California waters.

Simon slowed his stride, falling in line with you. He kept your pace, you looked up at him. He gazed at you from the corner of his eye, keeping his face forward.

“Know any place to get a good drink ‘round ‘ere?”

A true smile drew at your lips underneath the warm American Sun for the first time in years.

“I know just the place.”

•••

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Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[inlovewithpandora]

- Time spent together -

Pairing: Agedup!Tsireya x Fem!Metkayina!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Request: [ @iluvpandorawomen ] Hey gorgeous 🤗 , just got back on here after a break im almost done with my kiri fic part two but i was here to ask how are you ? and if you could do a small drabble for kiri or tsireya ?? 🥰

Synopsis: You and Tsireya spend some quality time together

Content: Pure Fluff, established relationship, them just being cute

Author’s Note: my first ever drabble & Tsireya fic, I was so excited to write it! I hope it meets your expectations @iluvpandorawomen!

Word Count: 444

Glossary: Tanhì - Star; bioluminescent freckle || Yawne - Beloved

Extra: requests are open! Please read rules prior to requesting!

Links: Navigation || Masterlist || Taglist

Likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated💗!

"Come on y/n." Tsireya whispered to you as she stood in the entryway of your mauri.

It's the middle of the night and both of you decided to sneak off and have one of your nightly dates like you've been doing over the past few weeks.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming." you whisper back as you try to slowly step around your family who were sleeping peacefully on their mats trying your best not to wake them up.

You were finally able to make your way to the entryway, "Are you ready to go tanhì?" Tsireya reached out her hand for you to take, ready to intertwine her hand with yours.

"Yes, let's go." and with that, you grabbed her hand and both of you began walking toward the beach. As both of you walked hand in hand Tsireya felt all giddy inside, even though both of you have been dating for a year it still feels like the first time both of you went on a date.

Tsireya loved spending this time with you, being able to be alone at night as the moonlight shined so perfectly on your teal-green skin and how your light blue eyes shined with love.

The beach was beautiful at this time of day, from how the stars were shining in the night sky to the water that was glowing from the bioluminescent flora and fauna within it. After a while of walking along the shore both of you decided to settle down near a palm tree.

You sat down first, leaning against the tree as Tsireya sat on your lap. You wrap your arms around her torso, loving every moment you got to touch her. As Tsireya felt you snake your arms around her frame, a redness spreads across her cheeks. She loves when you touch her just as much as you did. She loves the feeling of your fingertips gliding against her body and the way your hands roam in places that were only accessible to you.

“I love you y/n, you know that? You make me feel so loved and protected.” Tsireya leans back, resting her body against yours and placing her head in the crook of your neck.

“I love you too yawne, you make me the happiest na’vi on Pandora. My life wouldn’t be complete if you weren’t in it.” You end your statement by planting a loving kiss on her cheek. Times like this made you feel so lucky to have Tsireya by your side.

Both of you continue stargazing, looking around at the world that Eywa created. The atmosphere was filled with a warmth that you never wanted to end, you wanted to bask in this feeling forever.

I hope you enjoyed💗!

Previous fic

Taglist: @number1gal @liyahsocorro @iwantjaketosullyme @fanboyluvr @kapyzkms @ladespedidas @navegaluv @theycallmesia @haileymsstuff @onlyloaksgf @kierys-blog @myh3artttt @julyytsireya @gamerxpfighter @h3l3na-pandora @narratorv-sky @potatoknishesofficial69 @downbadforloak @yetanotherattemptatanaccount @yeosxxx @ghoul-bonez

©️inlovewithpandora ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 | All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[elsfairy]

SECURITY ⋯ ♡ᵎ (I did say I was going to write about sevika&anxiety so. I'm also adding things i do when im anxious, we're all different so these might be different from someone else.)

☆ Sevika deals with enough stress, every single day she breathes. So to her, it was just another part of her job. Or she thought.

☆ It wasn't exactly hard for you to understand that she wasn't exactly feeling 100% herself. Her answers were short, or more irritable replies.

☆ "Can you just, let it go? I'm perfectly fine"

☆ Easier said than done, she looked anything but fine whenever she would get home. The small voice in your head always told you to leave it. You couldn't, you worried, and you cared.

☆ She's a pro at covering up any emotion she has. The only thing she will show is her anger and hatred though, she was silent even when she was mad about something. That is what worried you. A silent Sevika isn't a good sign.

☆ It was the first time you noticed her behavior was a little different on an early morning. Making coffee was never something Sevika had trouble with, but it was out of the blue when you stumbled into the kitchen, seeing her standing by the window, her hands trembling.

☆ Her breathing got a lot heavier during these times.

☆ "Vika, are you alright?"

☆ In all your months of dating, she's been easy with her emotions, but sometimes she can't help but push you away when it came to them or anything that involved her wellbeing. She loved you so much, but she was scared. So, pushing you away seemed the best option. Because she's 'supposed' to be strong.

☆ "Yeah, I'll be home late tonight. Don't worry about little old me"

☆ That's always the wrong thing to say to you because it makes you worry about her even more. It was unusual but some mornings she's a lot more snarky and rude towards you. Not that she meant to be.

☆ Frankly, she didn't even fucking know what was going on with herself either.

☆ She always got home at weird and random times of the night, but it was one particular night when she somehow managed to wake you up by stumbling through the door, the slamming making you worried, again.

☆ It was the first time in your life that you found Sevika standing in the middle of the living room, breathing heavier again, trembling. Note that she didn't tremble, ever.

☆ "Sev, what's going on? are you alright? did something happen?"

☆ "No, just⎯ go back to sleep, okay?"

☆ You, being you were used to ignoring her snarky attitude and barely gave her a chance to ignore you.

☆ You're also known to be very touchy towards Sevika, and she didn't mind that. Of course though, when she flinched away from you, you panicked.

☆ "Hey, it's just me, I'm not going to hurt you. What's wrong?"

☆ Sevika didn't cry. She never cried, over anything.

☆ But she cried.

☆ She always felt safe whenever you were around, but sometimes she just felt so fucking scared, worried.

☆ "Vika, hey, look at me"

☆ This was different from anything else. It was hard to control and calm down an angry Sevika, but trying to comfort a crying one? she's never cried so you had no idea what to do, but you had an inkling.

☆ You were a lot shorter than she was, but it didn't stop that you needed to be there for her. You needed to calm her down and help her.

☆ "Just breathe. Everything is okay. You're having a panic attack Vika, just focus on me and your breathing"

☆ Even if you've said them, the words still made no sense to her, she's never had one before. Fuck, she's never felt anxious before until the past few weeks.

☆ Out of the two of you, Sevika wasn't as touchy like you were. She loved holding your hand and hugging you but the comfort you give her broke all the walls she had up, down.

☆ "Nothing is wrong with you, it's alright you just need to focus on your breathing"

☆ "Im scared"

☆ Her trembled voice broke your heart.

☆ If she's angry, she just loves to hold you to calm down. She's never hurt you and she wouldn't. But she held tightly onto you, afraid to let go of you. Still trembling in your arms. crying.

☆ "I know, but it's okay. I'm right here, right here to help you"

☆ She worked a lot, so you can only gather it's because of that. Nothing usually makes her this worried, or anxious.

☆ "There you go, just keep focusing on breathing. We can stay here as long as you'd like"

☆ Won't openly admit it, but she didn't mind when you would lay on the blankets and pillows on the floor, making a bed fort just for her to feel safe. Because she loved it. She loved that you would do anything for her. To keep her safe.

☆ You figured out that she really enjoyed it when you would run your fingers through her hair when she felt like this. Resting her head in your lap, fumbling with your fingers on your free hand, keeping her breathing steady.

☆ She panics when her hands start to tremble in yours again, but you're there, reassuring her that's she safe, and that you're here for her.

☆ When she starts to feel like she's having another one, you place her hand on your chest, just so she can feel your heart beating. It calms her down and she focuses. Like you practiced together.

☆ "I feel like I'm a child"

☆ "You're not a child, you're just dealing with something new. It's okay though, you're perfect the way you are"

☆ From the start, you've had a habit of humming random songs wherever you are and she really fucking loves when you do it because it makes her aware she's here, and okay.

☆ "Can you sing that song? from a few weeks ago?"

☆ "Of course, Sweetheart"

☆ As cheesy as it sounds, you are her security blanket.

Sorry, this is so fuckin long. This is more like a fic and a head cannon, idk what happened but :) my computer had a major seizure, so i had to write half this again, im lowkey pissed.

[thedisablednaturalist]

Just being around my family stresses me out. Which in turn causes my pain levels to rise. Everyone is so nasty to each other. I can't ask for help without being ridiculed so I just have to fight through the pain to make my dinner. And then I have to flee to my room or risk being chastised for the unhealthiness of whatever I manage to make before falling over. I just needed to eat a safe food that was quick, filling, and didn't trigger my nausea. But because box mac and cheese will make me fat my mom has to tear me apart over it. Also I only ate 1.5 meals today because my mom gets mad when I'm in the kitchen.

And the bathrooms? My brother spends 20 minutes taking a sink bath every half hour in the bathroom across from my room, so I have to use my parents bathroom if I don't get to it in time. I try to pee quickly but I have to pee frequently due to fibromyalgia bladder. My mom yells at me for using "her" bathroom. "Go downstairs!" she yells. Why can't my able-bodied brother go downstairs to take his sink baths then?? why do I have to painfully crawl down the stairs every time I want to take a piss?? Also he does this in the middle of the night too which wakes me up. Don't get me started on him filling the toilet with shit and not flushing so the smell wafts into my room 🤢

Oh and god forbid I have to take my weekly shower. Then EVERYONE is mad at me for "hogging the bathroom". I only shower once or twice a week due to pain and both my brothers literally showering twice a day (thus no hot water, it's impossible to take a cold shower with fibro). I have to fight to get a timeslot. And then my mom makes fun of me for looking "unkempt".

But according to everyone IM the bully, IM overreacting. My mom "almost died to birth me" so her behavior gets excused. My one brother has severe autism/OCD and my parents dont do anything to help or manage it so his needs are always above mine since I'm able to "push past it" (re: forced). Fun fact the "witch doctor" my parents took my brother to cut off my brothers meds cold turkey this week so its all been 200x worse due to withdrawal (who the fuck cuts someone off of WELLBUTRIN AND ZOLOFT cold turkey????).

I keep telling myself its only a few more weeks but I still haven't heard back about my housing application being approved and I'm getting worried.

How am I supposed to live, let alone work, in this environment?

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

hai ariiiiii :3 guess whos SICK . me . im sick

ANYWAY thinking abt sugubooboo taking care of u while sick ,,,,,,,,

u kno when u get that feeling ur gonna b sick in the morning the night b4 it all hits ? i think sugu picks up on that after u blow ur nose one 2 many times n he asks if ur okay

ur not. obviously . so he heats up some nice peppermint tea, and something my mom does when im sick is take some honey, mix it w ginger powder + some other stuff thats good 4 ur throat and make me eat a spoonful of it [its gross as HELLLL i hate it but i feel a lil better afterwards] then tucks u in2 bed [later after uve fallen asleep he calls out of work for tomorrow, he REFUSES to leave u alone + sick]

the next morning ur properly Sick and suguru wakes u up w breakfast in bed, all warm foods infused with clove, mint, ginger, and sets a few packs of tissues next 2 the bed

after uve eaten he lays in bed w u 4 a bit, kissing your head and fiddling w ur hands. eventually u ask abt work, he said he called out 4 both u n him.

he trusts u 2 take a shower on ur own, but when u get out hes holding a towel and wraps u in it immediately then just hovers around u as u do ur morning routine, making sure youre okay n not abt 2 like . pass out or smthn

once ur dressed and fully cocooned in the bed once again, suguru pours out some cold medicine 4 u and hands u water once that NASTY liquid slides down ur throat. he gives u a lil candy as a palate cleanser tho, hes not mean

i think after that u just fall in and out of sleep 4 teh rest of the day until u get hungry again or need another dose of medicine. sometimes u wake up 2 suguru humming and playing w ur hair while he reads a book, sometimes he joins u and takes a nap w u. the only time u wake up alone is when its lunch or dinner n hes in the kitchen making smthn spicy 2 open ur sinuses

everytime u take a dose of medicine, he kisses you on the lips then pushes a glass of water in one hand n some candy in the other. hed probably mumble 'good job' or smthn like that in2 the top of ur head as he cuddles u while ur trying 2 get the taste out of ur mouth

he does NOT care if u sneeze n get snot all over him, puke on him if u have a stomach bug, cough in his face, or r generally disheveled. u could never disgust him.

if its sunny out, hell offer 2 take u outside just 4 a lil bit. if u dont think u can walk hes gonna pick u up. no complaining u NEED that sun, hell argue while sliding the patio door open

youll sit out 4 a bit, soaking up the sunshine then when u want 2 go back 2 bed hell carry u back and gently tuck u in2 bed

if ur 2 weak 2 even blow ur nose, hes holding the tissue 2 ur nose n waiting 4 u 2 blow. the chapstick might b all the way across the room n ur savior ends up being suguru and his long legs. the temp in the house is 2 hot? hes turning the a/c down and all the fans r coming 2 ur room bcuz he knows how slow the heating n cooling takes 2 change.

also everytime he walks in2 the room, hes asking how r u? do u need anything? does anything hurt too much? and he probably has smthn 4 u 2 do so ur not on ur phone all day [guess . guess who was on their phone all day . ME]

at the very end of the day, hes got u curled up in his lap on the bed, INCREDIBLY comfortable, and theres some movie on the tv in the bedroom. like juno or some other feel good indie movie. sugurus just kissing u everywhere on ur face and clutching u tight 2 him because u got super clingy after he had 2 run out 4 last minute groceries. since its past dinner time, he gives u lil candied ginger pieces 2 help w ur throat n other snacks 2 go w the movie.

eventually u fall asleep in his arms in the middle of the movie, smothered in warmth on all sides.

OKAY . WOW . moving on, HOW WAS UR DAY ARI ??? tell me abt that book ur reading rn !! u seem very enthusiastic abt it, id luv 2 know y ^_^ ! [personally my day was . ouchie . and ive got a book abt decolonialism checked out from the library rn :3]

ASHLEY !!!!!!!!! i’m answering this kinda late i hope your cold is gone by now 😔😔😔

BUT . GODDDDDDDDDD ARE YOU OUT TO KILL ME 😭😭😭😭😭😭 BE HONEST . how did you know sugu sickfics are my greatest weakness………… (i actually have . a whole fic just like this that i wrote a year ago or so 😭😭 YOU MADE ME WANNA GO BACK N READ IT HHHH this is very bad for my weak suguloving heart….) I’M JUST. I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO SAYY. you keep serving me meals on a silver platter n i’m just?!?!! eating gratefully …. thank you……

NO BC YOU’RE SOOOOO RIGHT YOU’RE SO OBJECTIVELY CORRECT :((((((( HE’S. THE SWEETEST. the best bf around !!!!!! he’s so good at caring for you when you’re sick…. sniffle……. AND OFCCCC HE’D PICK UP ON IT INSTANTLY TOO. his sixth sense is so crazy accurate when it comes to his baby </33333 and wahhh him making you tea and tucking you in and calling in sick for you 🥺🥺🥺 he just wants you to feel better……

WAKING YOU UP . W BREAKFAST IN BED. WHAT IF I CRYYYYY THIS CONCEPT IS SO DEAR TO MY HEART ASHLEY ….. and him just. hovering around you. i feel like he would stand outside the bathroom while you shower just in case you were to fall over or smth…….. he’s so caring :(((( and wrapping you up in a towel…… cocooning you into bed. sniffle. i need him to baby me sooooo bad it’s not a want it’s a need …… he rlly would stay by your side the Whole time………… cooks for you and tends to you and makes sure you’re okay . he’s so good. i feel like he kind of really loves it too….. he doesn’t love that you’re sick BUT . he loves being allowed to take care of you :’3 loves making you feel better.

ALSOOO him kissing you and praising you whenever you take your medicine T_T oughhhhhhhh one kiss on the forehead + ”good girl/boy” from him and i would be OUT like a light. collapsed. fainted. he would be so good at coaxing you into taking it ……… ANDDDDD the part abt you never disgusting him. SO true. you could never ever disgust him he just wants you to be okay…….. forcing you out into the sunlight………… asking if you need anything……………. making sure you aren’t bored…………………. ohhhhh he’s 2 perfect we need to put him down.

sugurus just kissing u everywhere on ur face and clutching u tight 2 him because u got super clingy after he had 2 run out 4 last minute groceries.

AND THEN . YOU TOP IT OFF WITH THIS. ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ THIS MADE ME MELT….. i’m so…………. i have so many thoughts abt this. sugu would LOVE a clingy s/o but i keep specifically thinking of him w an s/o who’s shy w physical affection.,,,, and how he’d react when they get sick and suddenly get all cuddly . 🥺 he would love it so much. kisses you all over and holds you soooo tight and he’s just!!!!! so enamored!!!!!!!!! you’re like a lil koala. he loves you. sob.

WAHHHHH THANK YOU FOR THE ABSOLUTE MEAL MY BELOVED i’m not exaggerating btw this is gonna feed my sugu thoughts for weeks to come…… AND MY DAY WAS GOOD!!!! i’m sorry to hear your day was ouchie </3 i hope it’s all better now!!! pls make sure to rest and eat properly <33 it’s what sugu would want for you!!!!!

AND . THE BOOK. YES. it’s called giovanni’s room by james baldwin and it’s sooooo <33333 yeah. it’s so good. i LOVE baldwin’s prose so much??????? and the story is just . AUGH. i’m still not finished but i’m so obsessed. it’s basically abt a closeted guy in like … the 1800s-1900s? who goes on vacation in paris while his girlfriend is in spain. and he meets this rlly mysterious charming italan barman called giovanni……….. the book is abt their relationship + their own experiences w homosexuality + their tragic ending (it’s revealed at the very beginning of the book that giovanni will meet his end by the guillotine)…..

so it’s just . yeah. it’s such a gorgeous book :’3 and just so . idk. raw? visceral?? i love giovanni a lot. and more than anything i loves james baldwin <333 i’m planning to buy another of his books too!!!! it’s called tell me how long the train’s been gone :3 I RLLY RECOMMEND BOTH OF THEM!!! i hope the book you just got ends up being good too <33

[earlgreyinpajamas]

I have never watched a single James bond movie (I followed for merthur) but I thought since you had such good taste with Merlin fics I should try out a 00q fic just to see what's up and now I've done nothing but delve deeper and deeper in 00q fic for the past few weeks (already read all the ones off your masterlist and am now perusing ao3 on my lonesome) 😭

So thank you! But also goddamn 😂

I will however ask if you know any good amnesia/memory loss fics? For both of them?? ❤️❤️❤️

ahhh thank you im glad you enjoyed my recs

00q

Remember Me by Jen (ConsultingWriters) (@consultingwriters)

Bond has lost his memory. Q has lost his love.

"What have I forgotten?” Bond asked; Q watched him, trying to find the James he knew.

“Nothing that you won’t work out on your own, if it’s really important,” Q said carefully, before returning every fraction of his attention to the computer in front of him.

~~~

ahhh the ending!!!

2. Upon Remembering by secondstar

Surrounded by faces he no longer recognizes, Bond finds solace in Q's voice.

~~~

q is the voice in his ear q is the voice in his mind ahhhhhh i cant i cant i cant

3. Take It All, But Not My Love by withthekeyisking (@withthekeyisking-writer)

"You know, I thought about doing this to you, and I thought about doing it to Dr. Swann. But then I realized - hurting you would not compare to hurting the one you love. And though you put up a good show, Dr. Swann isn't the one you love. He is."

~~~

the genre is HURT

merthur

That Burning Torch of Kingship by Imagined (@burglarhobbit)

He always wakes up with his heart pounding out of his chest in the middle of the night, when he has the dreams, and loathes his father more than anything when he does. He only recalls a flash of midnight blue eyes; perfectly arched lips that could tilt into a disrespectful grin; unblemished pale hands that touched, touched, touched.

But at least he remembers on those days, even if the dreams fade. All Arthur is left with is this crushing sense of loss and the cursive glances of the court; they all whisper of the prince who loved a sorcerer so much that the king resorted to magic to make him forget. The heresy. The hypocrisy. The burning shame; Arthur is the one who can still meet his father’s gaze and his father is the one who drops his own.

This is not the king that Arthur will be.

~~~

in this house we hate uther

2. ask me why (my heart's inside my throat) by Scarlet_Ribbons (@silk-scarlet-ribbons)

“You’re hurt.”

“What gave you that impression,” Arthur says as he smiles at another couple, this pair far less egregious than the first. “I’m doing perfectly alright.”

Merlin snorts. “The next time you lie, my Lord, perhaps try to be more convincing?”

[Arthur's overcome with a temporary bout of amnesia. He has no idea why Merlin's acting so odd, but knowing him, it can't be good.]

~~~

fdhaskhlj they're so cute

3. Rubbing Wine Stains Into Rugs by PinkGold (@sparkly-angell)

For the prompt: Merlin gets a bad head injury and forgets that King Arthur doesn't know about his magic yet.

"My head is just fine, your highness." 

Arthur snorted good naturally, "It's your majesty, you idiot."

Merlin's thoughts all came into a screeching halt. "When did you become king?"

~~~

they're in love your honour

[scarletwritesshit]

Yosuke Hanamura x F!Reader ❀ Town of Blossoms ❀ June 20th, 2013

A Thursday night in the middle of the week…Yosuke was still lying awake on his phone, despite having to go to work the next day. You only knew that this was the case because you too, were laying wide awake at such an hour. Despite not having the same obligations as him the following morning, you were still ultimately, no better than he was. In a way, despite the decision to stay up being of your own will, he still held a part of the blame for your wakefulness.

It was apparent that over the past few days, something has been weighing quite heavily on Yosuke’s mind. Did you have a clear answer as to what that something was yet? Unfortunately, no. The only hints that you had was the occasional side comment made in the midst of a conversation.

From what you could gather, it was something about friends and abandonment issues and other stuff of that sort. No big deal, he would always claim, but it often times lead to some late-night conversations. Tonight was no exception. Things started off as nothing more than a quick chat before bed. That “quick chat” had been going on for about two hours.

Tiredness was beginning to overtake you, but you didn’t want to abruptly ditch him in the middle of a conversation. Every time there was more than a few minutes in between responses, you’d think that maybe, he at long last, fell asleep. And so, you would allow yourself to slowly drift to sleep yourself, until you were somewhat woken up by the ringtone going off alerting you of a reply. The cycle would repeat; back and forth between two considerably tired people who simply could not bear to leave the other hanging.

You wondered if he even understood half of the nonsense manifested from your fingers. An exhausted person was in no position to provide any form of solid, logical advice, but you were trying your best regardless. Any person in their right mind would opt to wait until the morning or afternoon to resolve any sort of problems, aided with a clearer mind.

But you two were best friends. Logic got completely thrown out the window.

Don’t you have work tomorrow? you texted back.

You truthfully didn’t want to stop talking to him. Even if it were only for the night, it was the last thing that you wanted to happen. More importantly, however, you didn’t want him to fall ill from sleep deprivation, and were more than willing to sacrifice a few minutes of talk if it meant for the sake of his wellbeing.

yeah but i cant sleep anyways so it doesnt matter

Staring at your phone doesn’t help.

Like you were one to talk. Staring at your phone had no advantages for you either.

neither does blankly staring at my wall

Trying to sleep would be better for you regardless

but i dont wanna stop talking to you

too much on my mind

wayyy too much on my mind

Like what

Is it the stuff that’s been bothering you all week

This could be a prime chance for you to weasel an answer as to what was bringing him down so badly. Perhaps it was just a little wrong to use his tiredness to your advantage to try and figure out what has been bothering Yosuke. In all fairness, he did bring the topic up himself first. And you were sort of at a loss as to how to help him.

eh

longer than this week tbh

Longer? Did something else happen

no its the same stuff i guess

You guess?

mhm

idk how to tell you man

but ive just been worried that youll leave like everyone else

same nonsense

I have no intention of leaving. I promise.

But did something bring this up?

its nothing

im just really tired i guess

Can’t be nothing if you’re still awake over it

But please get some rest. At least for tonight.

You’re gonna be exhausted and miserable tomorrow if you don’t

You turned the screen of your phone off and laid it on your chest. It was late into the month of June. For Yosuke, this was the season of his birthday. It was a time where you would expect him to be happy, overjoyed even. Ironically enough, it could have been the one thing that was bringing him down after all.

The more that you thought about it, the more that it seemed like a logical explanation.

It was supposed to be a time of bringing together all of his friends to celebrate himself.

What friends, though?

Almost the entirety of your group had long since parted ways completely as Inaba calmed down and time marched on. It was of no fault of one or another, as fate had long since planned different paths for each of his friends to tread. Time and again, he would claim to be fine, but it was apparent that the loneliness was getting to him hard.

He wasn’t actually "used to it." Without a doubt, Yosuke was hurting deeply inside. As good as the intentions in your heart might have been, it wasn’t something that could be amended overnight, or even at all. Regardless, there was no way that you were going to give up on him. Somehow, you had to convince him that even though everyone else had broken contact, you had no plans of doing such yourself.

You checked your phone one last time. No response. You could only hope that he ultimately decided to give it a rest and fall asleep, or that the tiredness finally overcame him. At least tomorrow was Friday, but that was still another day of working that Yosuke had to survive. Oh so close to the weekend, yet just barely out of reach…

There was one remaining option for you to lift his spirits just in time for the weekend, and even beyond that. An opportunity that you have been silently chasing for so long may be closer than you thought. No more of this “waiting for the right moment.” For the sake of you both, one of you was going to have to take the first step forward. And if Yosuke seemingly had no plans to do it, nobody else but you could take the initiative.

You put your phone aside on the nightstand and stared blankly at the ceiling in the dark as you carefully sorted through your thoughts. No, caution was what caused such a delay in the first place. The longest you were willing to wait now would be until after he was free from the grips of Junes.

In a sea of pink blossoms, understand those before you and flourish as the purple as you are. It was as clear as day what action you needed to take. Show him that you would never leave him, and that you meant it.

Content with your plan of action, you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to, at long last, drift off to sleep.