#this is what you get from me on 4 hours sleep

[socialpermadeath]

A long winded rant about how trucking is an inherently unethical business below the cut to save your dash.

TL;DR - Being constantly on the road for hours on end with very little contact with other human beings does not do good things for the human psyche and tbh, if anyone in America right now is going to snap and do a homicide, I'm not shocked it's a trucker.

So I've got a lot of thoughts on the trucking industry. It's not good for the environment, it's not as efficient as train freight, it costs a lot to the taxpayer in the form of road maintenance because big trucks are heavy and they damage streets more than consumer vehicles.

But on top of all that, it's also pretty terrible for the people who drive it. In a lot of cases, working full time as a trucker basically means pseudo solitary confinement where you just don't get a chance to form emotional bonds with other people. You also only get paid for your hours on the road and there's no compensation for all of the time you'll spend sleeping at motels or in your truck. Which, at least to me, if I'm not home because my boss needs me somewhere else, then I'm at work. Even if I'm sleeping, the time that I have to spend not at home with my family should be paid hours. You get paid for the hours you "work" and in reality, you're only really getting a few weekends truly off work.

There's statistics out there you can find if you want the hard numbers, but compared to the average population, truckers have a significantly higher number of murderers. There's an FBI initiative to try and deal with serial murders by truckers. In my (again, personal) opinion this isn't because people who want to do murder are drawn to that profession, it's because being on the road for months at a time working 14 hour days with a 10 hour "break" that's just eating, showering and sleeping does not cultivate a balanced emotional state.

To psychologically torture these people through their labor (as well as the physical ramifications of being a trucker) and then not pay them?!?!?? You are asking to get beaten to death with a rock. You are asking for a man who hasn't been able to see his wife and kids in 4 months because of the work orders you issue him to see you as the parasite you are and to remove you from this world swiftly.

What's my solution? (Aside from doing more freight via rotating train crews.) Pay these people enough that they can afford to work half the year. Pay them what being on call 24/7 for 6 months is worth. What being away from their families that long is worth. And then expect to hire more truckers so you can rotate your crew to avoid fatigue. It will cost more because it will cost what it always should have cost to have that much skilled labor on call and working that many man-hours a week. Make sure your employees feel like you appreciate their sacrifices through financial compensation, benefits, and giving them time off to recover from their demanding jobs.

"You work three months on and three months off. You'll be paid for your time on the road and you'll also be paid a retainer for when you're on call. You and your family will have health insurance that includes dental and vision. Your children will never miss a meal, never miss an annual doctor's appointment or dental checkup because of the cost, always have new clothes and shoes for the school year. Your partner will be able to stay at home with them while you're on the road. And when the holidays roll around, your bonus will be proportional to our profits and will be befitting of the hard word you've done for us. Here's your union rep's business card. Talk to him so he can talk to me. Oh and here's a guide on how to set up Libby so you can shred through some audio books while you're on the road."

If your business cannot afford that. Budget better, I guess.

also

[artstennisracket]

Gamer!Patrick

who… you started dating in college. you guys met in your second year finance class after working on a project together. you thought he was cute but a little egotistical, always answering teacher questions without raising his hand. always contributing to class discussions aka saying his opinion louder than everyone else

who… always wears sweatpants or board shorts to class. no in between. always paired with his nike killshot’s, a watch his father bought him, and soft sprays of his expensive tom ford cologne. he clearly doesn’t care what people think of him. he’s also stupidly charismatic. all the business professors love him.

who… always insists on hanging out at your dorm instead of his off campus apartment. you never knew why until one day he finally gave in. his place was nice. expensive. he said his parents paid for the rent. it was a two bedroom apartment that he shared with his best friend Art but he was rarely home. but Patrick’s room was a disaster. dirty clothes everywhere, half eaten cups of ramen, half drunk water bottles, and suspicious socks strewn all over that made your stomach turn at the thought of what they were probably used for.

who… essentially ignores you everytime he’s on the game. his pc would be the only source of light in his room most nights. even if you spent the night, hoping he’d join you to sleep, most times he wouldn’t until an ungodly hour. staying up until 4/5am screaming at his teammates through his headphones, you’re surprised you can even sleep.

who… jerks off to porn videos of his favorite video game characters. he would never tell you, but one day when you’re over at his place, making cereal in the kitchen (because there’s no real food there), Art outs him. he busts out laughing saying “oh you didn’t know? yeah you should ask him about that.” you’re not even sure how Art knows this information.

who… denies the accusation stating that “why the fuck would I do that? that’s fucking gross.” only for you to catch him jerking off at 4am to overwatch porn. t-shirt pulled up, hand shoved down his boxers, abs flexing, eyes locked onto his phone screen. he doesn’t even notice that you woke up until you inch closer to him and spot the visuals on his phone. he drops his t-shirt from where it was between his teeth, “it’s not—whatever. fuck you,” he groans, hand picking up its pace. so you pull his hair (for being a brat), kiss his neck, and whisper dirty things into his ear while keeps watching his phone, making him finish in record time.

who… loves when you sit under his desk to blow him while he’s playing. trying really hard to concentrate and play well but it’s hard. the obscene squelching noises everytime he hits the back of your throat, the drool falling from the sides of your mouth, your other hand toying with his balls at the same time. he has to mute his mic when his friends keep asking him why he’s breathing so hard. he calls you a slut for trying to get his attention this way, “such a fucking slut. only way you know how to get my attention huh? want all my friends to hear me? so they know how much of a whore you are for my cock?”

who… hates loves playing video games with you. he has to teach you a lot, and you keep forgetting which buttons do what. it’s cute at first when you guys are playing co-op games like It Takes Two, but eventually after you try to make an ‘easy’ jump 5 times (dying everytime) he grabs the controller from you and does it for you, “Jesus fuck, it’s not that hard.” playing fortnite is a hit or miss because sometimes it’s fun but eventually it becomes stressful since Patrick is carrying you, making all the kills but also trying to watch your back while you’re doing the Taste dance emote in your Sabrina Carpenter skin.

who… can’t function when he sees your halloween costume. you dressed up as Kitana from mortal kombat (with the help of Art since you wanted to surprise Patrick). back to back frat parties on frat row. you keep getting wolf whistled at as you guys walk from house to house. Patrick keeps at least one point of contact the entire night, he can’t keep his hands to himself. a hand on your waist, around your shoulder, on your thigh, on your ass. and his favorite obviously being when you dance on him. he makes sure neither of you drink too much that night so he can fuck you stupid when you guys get back to his apartment. he already texted Art earlier to fuck off unless he wanted to hear you getting wrecked. it’s sloppy and rough and of course you keep your costume on. he pulls out his phone to record while you guys are in doggy.

who… actually is really sweet. he builds you guys a house in minecraft (with cherry blossom wood as you requested). will always put himself in harm’s way when you guys go mining. so he takes the lead and if there’s a creeper or a zombie he takes care of it. goes on crazy stupid long adventures with you just so you can find an ocelot, “this is fucking stupid, jungles are rare biomes it’s gonna take us forever to find one.”

who… thinks you may actually be the first girl he’s ever fallen in love with. the first girl to see all of him and still accept him for who he is. the first girl who never tried to change him. the first girl to enjoy just sitting in his presence, even if he’s on the game. but he’d never tell you any of that. not unless you said it first anyway.

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[no-phrogs-in-hats]

A Night Out (On the Couch) !NSFW!

Avenger!Agatha x Avenger!Reader

Word count: 4, 800

Content warning(s): MDNI, smut, couch sex, body insecurities (reader)

Summary: Summary: After three months of baby vomit and sleepless nights, there's only one solution you and Agatha have to finally relax: have the Avengers and co. babysit your daughter while the two of you go out for the night--or change your minds and crash on the couch instead.

A/N: Hi, I think I'm gonna crash out. When I originally posted this, I forgot to add a scene that I really wanted in. So I deleted it...but not before I accidentally deleted my entire fucking masterlist. So, I will be canceling all of my plans tomorrow and making a new one.

Spotify

Ao3

You can’t remember a time in your life when you were happier. 

She’s the center of your universe, even through your exhaustion the past three months. Every coo, every babble and smile, makes it feel like you’re holding the sun. You watch Agatha every morning with her, blowing raspberries on her cheek and making her laugh. You watch her rock your daughter to sleep and it feels like you’ve fallen in love all over again.

Even tonight, at three in the morning, when Daphne refuses to fall asleep. Laying on your front, on top of your strewn sheets and completely spent, you can see into the nursery from your side of the bed. The side of your face is pressed into the pillow, but you still watch with your one open eye as Agatha sits in the cushioned rocking chair.

Her eyes are closed and her head rests against the back of the chair. In her arms, with Agatha patting her back gently, is a fussing Daphne. Her hands hold on to Agatha’s nightshirt tightly as her whimpers slowly quiet.

Soon, after two hours, a feeding, and a diaper change, Daphne’s laid back down in her crib. Agatha sneaks out of the room, cringing as she closes the door, and leaves a sliver open. She falls back into bed beside you with a groan and you turn over to face her.

“I love you,” you mumble.

She gives you a sleepy smile and opens her eyes, voice raspy in her pillow as she mutters, “I love you too.”

“You know we haven’t been alone since the nail salon,” you say. 

“When you refused to go to the hospital because you wanted them to finish your pedicure?” she asks quietly, cracking a smile. 

“Yeah,” you giggle. “And you had Wanda buy a similar color before visiting so you could finish it for me while I was in labor.”

“And then you promptly kicked everyone out,” Agatha hums.

“Hm…yeah…” You look over her tired face, eyes shut as your hand rests on her waist. “You know,” you begin, “next Saturday is gonna be thirteen weeks…”

Agatha cracks open the eye that isn’t buried in her pillow. “And the doctor said six to eight weeks.”

“Mhm…”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Agatha mutters.

“When I go out with Wanda in the afternoon, I ask if the team can all take Daphne for a night so we can go out and then come back here and have sex for the first time in over three months?” you suggest.

“That’s a little more detailed than I was gonna say,” Agatha giggles, “but, yeah.”

When you get home from lunch with Wanda, you barely recognize the house–the kitchen counters are spotless, the floors are free of toys, the kitchen table is clear of baby bottles and breakfast dishes from that morning, and there’s even a Christmas scented candle burning. 

When you walk through the open French doors of the living room, Agatha’s sitting on the couch. The TV is on as she reads and on the floor next to her is Daphne in her baby swing.

“I see you two were very busy while I was gone,” you smile, shrugging off your coat and draping it over a chair.

Agatha looks behind her and smiles when she sees you. As you lean down to kiss her, she shrugs, “Daphne wasn’t much help, but I forgive her.”

“Thank you for cleaning the house,” you mumble, and kiss her softly. “You have no idea how much it means to me.”

Agatha kisses you again, “Of course. What did Wanda say?”

“She said that they’d be happy to watch her for a night,” you say. 

“A whole night?” Agatha scoffs.

You nod and sit down beside her, being welcomed with her arm around your shoulders. “She said the whole night–that Daphne will sleep in her room. And she even called Tony and he loves the idea of a sleepover.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Agatha sighs. “Are we actually leaving our three month old baby with those people for a whole night?”

“If they’re responsible enough to save the human race from alien invasions, I think they’re responsible enough to watch our daughter,” you say as you trail kisses from her shoulder up to her cheek.

Agatha turns her head to give you a wary look, “Are they, though?��

The following Saturday could not come soon enough. You can’t remember the last time you had a proper night out–a night with wine and dry martinis, tight dresses with black lingerie underneath, and Agatha’s hand never leaving your thigh as a man tries to flirt with you. 

You craved these nights again, but now, you’re sifting through the long-forgotten lingerie and lace panties sitting in your dresser. Your stomach churns as you dig through the drawer in a bath towel with your hair and makeup done.

Everything is so revealing–and of course it is. It’s supposed to be, and quite frankly, the both of you love the more revealing sets. But you feel sick looking at them, and when you look up at the cheval mirror in your walk-in closet, you feel sick looking at yourself.

Agatha walks in, already dressed, but hair still a mess. You barely register her as she speaks, “I called the restaurant and confirmed the reservations. We should prob–Are you okay?”

You look up from the collection of underwear and bras and lacey lingerie and see Agatha standing beside you. “Um…yeah.”

Her eyebrows scrunch and she leans against the dresser. “No, you’re not. What’s the matter?”

Her voice is soft as you turn towards her, avoiding eye contact like your life depends on it. “I don’t know…” you mumble, huffing in frustration, because you truly don’t know how to word it. “I just…don’t feel…pretty or something.”

“Why?” she asks softly, and you can hear the hurt in her voice.

“I don’t know,” you say again. “It’s everything, maybe? The huge scar doesn’t help.”

“I want you to turn around,” she says, and you do. Agatha’s hands guide you to the standing mirror and when you stop in front of it she sighs. Her hands come to the top of your towel, “Can I take this off?” she asks.

You give a slight nod of your head. “Yeah.”

The towel drops, leaving you exposed for her, and you have the urge to hide. Agatha continues to stand behind you as her hands rest on your lower abdomen and her eyes make contact with yours in the mirror. 

“In the room next to us is a happy, healthy baby girl. And in the past three months, she has brought nothing but happiness to our lives.” Her voice is soft, but stern. “This isn’t just some random scar you got from fighting some alien or other supernatural thing. You brought a life into this world. You gave us our daughter.” 

Agatha’s lips skim over your neck, placing soft kisses to the exposed skin as you lean into her embrace. “And when I look at you, and I see the stretch marks and that scar…” Her hands clasp yours, running your fingers over the raised skin of the scar on your belly. “...All I can think about is how beautiful you are, and how much I love you, and how grateful I am for the both of you, every single day.”

She punctuates her last three words with a kiss to your shoulder, neck, and cheek after each one. Your lips tremble and you sniffle, wiping away a stray tear. “Stop, don’t make me cry,” you whimper. “I don’t wanna redo my makeup.”

You turn in her arms and hug her tightly. You pull away and give her a wet, tearful kiss. Your thumbs caress her cheeks as you hold her face in your hands. “Thank you,” you say, voice cracking. “I love you.”

“You don’t have to wear anything you don’t want to,” Agatha says, and kisses you softly. “And if you’re uncomfortable, we don’t have to have sex tonight.”

You scoff, “Oh, no, we’re having sex tonight.”

It’s been at least a month since you had been to Stark Tower. As Agatha carries the carseat, the diaper bag and mobile crib are being carried by you. The elevator doors open to the lounge and you’re met with a lot more people than you expected.

Yes there are the usual ones there–Tony, Pepper, Steve, Bucky, Sam, Wanda and Billy, Nat, Clint, and Bruce. But, as you approach the group and you’re greeted, you note Thor, Loki, Peter Parker, Yelena–who you haven’t seen since your wedding, and Steven.

“You know that she’s only three months old,” you say, hugging Wanda. “You don’t need this many people to babysit.”

Natasha pulls you in for a hug, “Well, Yelena’s here for the holidays. I don’t know why everyone else is here though.” 

“Well, I forgot to plan our holiday party,” Tony shrugs. “So why not make babysitting a huge affair?”

On the sofa, you sit with Wanda, going over everything you’ve written down. “Okay, this is her feeding schedule. She’s slowly starting to sleep through the night, but she’ll usually wake up around two. If she does, there’s formula in the bag, and there are enough diapers to last you a lifetime.” 

You hand her the paper after looking over it again. “Everything’s written down in detail, so you shouldn’t have too many questions–oh, when burping her, sit her up in your lap and do it. She’s already been fed, so she should be fine.” You huff, racking your brain for anything you can think of. “I think that’s it. Aga–? What are you doing?”

When you look up, Agatha’s strutting over with a glass of prosecco in one hand and holding Daphne in her other arm. “What?” she asks, and takes a large sip of her wine.

You stand up and take Daphne from her arm and smile fondly at her, shaking your head. “Nothing, my dear.”

With a big kiss on Daphne’s cheek, you hand her over to Wanda, and Agatha sighs, “You’re the only one here that I relatively trust with my child, Maximoff. Maybe Romanoff too,” she shrugs. “Haven’t decided yet.” 

Wanda blinks up at her and nods, “Umm…right. Okay. Go have fun! We’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

New York City is freezing. When you walk into the restaurant that’s only a few blocks away, you’re immediately met with warmth. Holiday decorations line the walls and tables, and with Christmas being only five days away, you can hear the faint sound of Frank Sinatra’s carols overhead. 

The main thing you notice, though, is how crowded it is. You expected it for one of the hottest restaurants in Midtown, but the energy is overwhelming, and you’re already growing tired of it.

Without turning towards her, you lean in close so Agatha can hear you. “Hey…Um…I know this was my idea…”

“But we should ditch this place and go back home instead?” Agatha says, and it’s like she can read your mind–and after 120 years, she might as well be able to. “Yeah, I agree. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

When you walk through the door of your house, you’ve never felt more relaxed. It’s quieter than it’s ever been. 

When you’re finally in your comfy clothes again and all bits of makeup are washed from your face, you head to the kitchen and throw a frozen pizza in the oven. When you return to the living room with a bottle of wine and two glasses, Agatha is on her knees making a fire in the hearth. 

“This is so much better,” you sigh, popping the cork out and pouring yourself and Agatha a glass. “It’s only 5pm, it’s pitch black out, and we’re already in our pajamas.”

Agatha stands up, also in her comfiest pair of clothes and makeup-less. She takes her glass of wine from you and clinks it against yours. “You always do have the brightest ideas, my love,” she smiles, and winks before giving you a kiss.

__________

Thor leans back in his chair, squinting his eyes as he watches Wanda play with Daphne on her toy mat. “So, what do we even do with a baby?”

 “There’s a Saturday night football game tonight,” Steve says. “We could have her join us.”

“What kind of beer do you think she likes?” Yelena asks, watching the baby closely. 

Wanda looks up from the floor at them, eyes stern. “We are not giving her a beer!”

“Maybe, like a cheap Bud Light?” Yelena suggests.

Tony scoffs, “Have you seen her mothers? That baby doesn’t have anything cheap. Y/N’s from Ireland, right? I’d say…probably a nice Irish ale.”

“Maybe a stout?” Thor suggests.

Clint, who’s sharing a bottle of whiskey with Tony, looks at Daphne, thinking hard. “What about an IPA? Something fruity maybe?”

“Oh, so because her parents are lesbians, that automatically makes her a fruity beer person?” Nat says accusingly.

Clint’s eyes widen, hands going up in defense. “Woah! That is not what I’m saying at all!”

“Oh, don’t get your panties in a bunch,” Nat snickers. “I’m just messing with you.”

__________

Agatha takes a seat beside you on the sofa and sets down two plates of pizza on the coffee table. “Should we watch a horrible, cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie?”

“What a good idea!” you chirp, leaning into her side. “We are both so smart.”

As predicted the movie sucks, but you love it anyway. You can’t help but feel your heart swell as you take in your surroundings. 

The ornament on the Christmas tree in the bay window sticks out the most–homemade, made of clay, and featuring Daphne’s tiny handprints with the words ‘First Christmas 2031’ below. The room is warm and the only light comes from the fireplace and the Christmas tree. 

Your mind races, though. The silence becomes unnerving at one point. You’re so used to hearing the sound of crying or laughing, or even the sound of a baby swing going, and you become anxious quickly.

“I’m gonna go call Wanda,” you say.

And as you try to stand up, Agatha’s arms pull you down. “No you’re not.”

“But what if there’s something wrong?” you whine.

Agatha wraps you entirely in her embrace, holding you tightly so you can’t escape. “ If there’s something wrong, Wanda will call us,” she says, pressing a kiss to your temple as she holds you against her front. “This night is for us. Stop stressing, drink some wine, and watch the crappy movie.”

__________

The Bills are down by six points and no one is happy. 

Empty bottles and cans of beer sit on the coffee table as everyone sits in the lounge watching anxiously.

On the floor, Nat, Wamda, and Billy sit with Daphne who lays on her toy mat. She stares up in awe at the bright toys that dangle overhead, feet kicking and hands reaching out for them.

“For a three month old, she has some pretty thick hair,” Wanda notes. 

Billy nods. “We could totally style it tomorrow morning.”

“But the curls are so cute,” Nat says.

The excitement in the room fluctuates as one of the running backs takes possession of the ball. Steve stands up and Tony, Peter, Bruce, and Yelena follow. They cheer at the screen as the running back gets closer to the end zone with a player from the opposite team hot on his trail.

40 yard line, then 30, then 20, and then–Daphne sneezes, and the channel changes.

Loki, who was sitting in his armchair, looking bored out of his mind, cackles as everyone yells and jeers. 

“What the fuck just happened?” Steve yells.

Tony frantically looks around on the couch. “Who has the remote?”

Suspicious, Wanda, Nat, and Billy all look down at her and she smiles.

And then she sneezes again–and the toy beside her turns into a flower and she lets out a squeal.

The three of them look at each other with wide eyes, and the room’s gone quiet. When they look up, everyone’s eyes have landed on the baby.

“Did she just–?”

“The baby changed the channel, didn’t she?” Steve asks, hands on his hips as he glares at Daphne.

Billy’s eyes widen in a panic. “Oh, gods, Agatha’s gonna be pissed that she wasn’t here for this. I mean–this is the first time, right?”

“They’re both going to be pissed!” Wanda panics. “The child of two witches just showed her first signs of magic! It’s a huge deal!”

__________

Wrapped in a blanket, you manage to calm your anxious thoughts. Agatha, who holds you tightly against her side, begins running her fingers over your exposed waist. 

You shiver beneath her touch and see out of the corner of your eye, her lips curling into a grin. Her hand slips beneath your sweatpants, squeezing at your hip.

“Are we still going to Lilia’s for Yule tomorrow?” she asks, acting like her touches are completely innocent.

You swallow and nod your head, looking straight at the TV, but having no clue what’s even going on. “Mhm…And on Christmas we’ll be…going over to the…uhhh…” Her touch becomes more distracting and you lose focus. The urge becomes too much and you’re on her lap in less than a second. 

It’s a desperate, messy kiss. A kiss you haven’t shared in months–it’s tongue, it’s teeth, it’s spit clinging to your lips, and not wanting to pull away even to breathe.

When you do pull away, you’re panting into each other's mouths. Your head falls onto her shoulder as she chuckles, “That took a lot longer than I thought it would. The second you suggested we come home instead, I knew what you were thinking.”

You sit up straight and furrow your eyebrows. “It’s been less than two hours.”

“Again,” Agatha says, “that took a lot longer than I thought it would.”

You roll your eyes and huff,  “Shut up and kiss me.”

You can feel her smile into the heated kiss. She pulls away, lips hovering over yours and her eyes dark. “Do you want me to touch you?” she mutters, hands kneading at your hips and waist.

“I want you to fuck me,” you breathe. Standing on your knees, you lean back and strip yourself of your shirt, tossing it onto the floor. “Right here, on this couch.”

Agatha’s hands run up and down your torso. As her lips skim over the bare skin, she looks up at you with more hunger than you had ever seen before. “Fuck, I love you.”

Your lips are against hers instantly, and her hands slide under your thighs. She flips you onto your back and you squeal into the kiss, giggling as her lips attack your neck. Agatha lays in between your spread legs, blanket tangled around you and lips wandering.

When Agatha removes your pants and throws them on the other side of the room, her lips return, kissing every inch of your bare skin. She brushes over your lower abdomen as she makes her way down, and looks up at you through heavy eyelids. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” she murmurs.

You can feel your cheeks heat up as Agatha slowly pulls your underwear down. She presses a kiss to clit and runs a finger through your folds, not giving you exactly what you want.

“What do you say?” Agatha asks softly.

You huff. “Stop fucking teasing, Agatha, please!”

“What do you say?” she asks again, more firm this time. 

“Please!” you beg, already trembling. “Fuck, Agatha, please!”

She rewards you with a slow lick up your slit, circling her tongue over your clit as you moan. You mumble curses under your breath. The feeling of her mouth on you for the time in over three months is overwhelming.

Agatha goes slowly, only going faster when you moan and beg for more. It is unbelievable how fast it builds. One of your hands clutches the blanket that’s twisted around you both while the other holds hers tightly. Your head is tipped back as you sob in pleasure, hips rocking against her mouth.

You hear her inhale deeply, moaning against you as you tremble. “You taste even better than I fucking remember,” she breathes. “Are you gonna cum for me?”

You let out a strangled gasp, followed by a loud moan, “Fuck, yes! Yes, don’t stop–Agatha, fuck!”

“Cum for me, baby,” she says, slipping her fingers inside of you and curing them quickly as you moan loudly. You’re on the verge of screaming as you shake underneath her, back arching and hands finding something to grab onto. 

She smiles as she holds you down, tongue not letting up. “That’s it! Good girl!”

Your chest is heaving as she crawls over you, licking her fingers clean. You pull her down and kiss her hard. When you pull away, you’re both huffing into each other’s mouths “I love you so fucking much.”

__________

It’s halfway through the third quarter of the Bills game and no one is paying attention. 

“Thank god she can’t crawl yet.”

“The coffee table is now a tree stump! It doesn’t matter if she can crawl yet!”

“I think it might be a little telling if she’s turning Thor’s beer into a can of Coke…”

Wanda spends most of her time going around the lounge, undoing the magic that Daphne’s unintentionally performed. But with each object she reverts, another one is changed. And then, the crying starts.

A lamp becomes a coat rack.

An empty bottle of beer turns into a cup.

A bookshelf becomes a dollhouse.

And as Daphne cries and waves her hands and kicks her feet, it seems like every motion she does causes more and more chaos. Everyone takes turns trying to rock her and calm her down, but nothing seems to work and the furniture and decoration continue to change.

She squirms in Billy’s hold as he gets anxious. He ends up passing her off to Tony who waves one of her toys in her face–which, of course, doesn’t work.

“Okay, I’m out of ideas,” he says.

“Seriously?” Yelena says, raising an eyebrow. “You have a whole lab of nanotechnology and the highest IQ here, and you’re out of ideas on how to calm down a baby?”

“The kid’s got the temperament of Agatha Harkness!” he snaps, still rocking Daphne in his arms. 

“He’s got a point,” Billy shrugs. 

Peter, who stands there awkwardly, pipes up, “Maybe we should just call them–?”

“No!” Wanda shouts from across the room. She turns a lemon back into the pot plant it originally was and rushes over. The only sound now is Daphne’s shrieks, and Wanda takes her carefully from Tony. She holds her against her shoulder, bouncing and patting her back gently.

“We are not calling them,” she says, giving everyone in the room a stern look. “This is the equivalent of…first steps or first words. Okay?” She huffs, clearly frustrated by the whole situation. “This is their first night alone in three months. And I’m sure they would feel awful if they knew this happened the first time they left her. We are not telling either of them!”

__________

A new, better, movie plays on the TV now. You both lay on the couch, naked and tangled in the soft blanket as the fire in the hearth crackles. 

Agatha, who holds you in her arms, runs her hand over your exposed thigh. She presses soft kisses to your bare shoulder and lets out a hum, “I’ve been thinking.”

You giggle and place a kiss on the arm that’s sprawled out under your head and hanging over the couch. “That’s never a good sign.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Agatha says again, chuckling as she kisses you shoulder. “I know you said that we should wait a few years, but I was thinking that…maybe in like…a year, I could go back to working–part time, of course.”

You turn your head and grin. “Without me?” When you turn back over, your face is smug. You wrap Agatha’s arms around you and hum. “My, my, Mrs. Harkness! You’ve grown to love our family!”

“I have not–I’m not–!”

“I would’ve assumed you wanted to work again because we have a daughter to feed and clothe,” you say, “but Tony has us on a monthly stipend.”

You hear Agatha let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay, fine, yes. I have grown to like being…an Avenger–as much as I hate being called that.”

“Because you don’t like being thought of as a goody-two-shoes,” you tease. 

Lacing your fingers with hers, you turn your head to press a soft kiss to the tip of her nose. “If you want to go back, I support you. It’s an important job. You protect the city.” You press a kiss to her lips now. “You protect us. And I am so proud of how far you’ve come.”

__________

For the first time in three months, you’re woken up by nothing–not an alarm, not a baby crying, nothing.

When you wake up, Agatha’s arm is slung over your waist and her bare legs are tangled with yours in the sheets. She groans behind you and rolls onto her back. You follow her, curling in her side as she stretches.

 “I think that was the best sleep I’ve ever gotten in my life,” you mumble.

Agatha hums and her hand rests in your hair. “What time is it?”

“I dunno,” you sigh. “I don’t care.”

Smiling, Agatha leans over and checks her phone before pulling you back into her arms. “It’s almost ten.”

“Oh my god,” you gasp. “When was the last time we woke up after eight?”

After getting cleaned up and getting dressed, you head to your favorite brunch spot. It’s sunny and there’s a dusting of snow on the ground from the previous night. By the time you’re finished with brunch, it’s nearly one. The drive to Stark Tower takes less than ten minutes, and soon, you find yourself in the kitchen, smiling brightly as you take Daphne in your arms.

As Agatha presses a kiss to her cheek, you ask Wanda, “Was she any trouble?”

There’s a noticeable hesitation in her voice. “No, not at all!”

Agatha’s eyes narrow. “You hesitated.”

“No, I didn’t,” Wanda insists.

“Yes, you did,” Agatha says, slowly pointing at her. “You hesitated. Why did you hesitate?” Wanda doesn’t answer and Agatha looks around at everyone sitting around the table. “Somebody better start talking.”  

Her eyes land on Billy, who sits there awkwardly. When she says his name, he startles and she grins. “Why is your mother hesitating?”

Wanda sighs. “Okay…last night, she showed her first signs…of magic.”

The whole room is quiet. Your breath catches and Agatha looks at you. “What? Why wouldn’t you wanna tell us?” you ask.

“Well, it’s an important moment,” Wanda says. “I didn’t want us to take that away from you.”

“I mean, that’s not the only milestone she’ll have,” you shrug. “It is a little disappointing that we weren’t here for it, but magic is unpredictable. I didn’t start until I was five, and Agatha didn’t start until she was three.”

“Quite frankly, we weren’t expecting it to be this early,” Agatha says, running her finger over Daphne’s soft cheek. “Both of us lost the bet. I have to admit, though, I am disappointed I didn’t get to see the havoc she wreaked.”

__________

The Yule celebrations have ended. The sun set hours ago and the world around you has gone quiet. But there’s one sound in your world that you love more than anything.

The dim light of the lamps cast shadows on the walls. You lay on your side facing Agatha, and in between the two of you on your bed is Daphne, giggling away as she shakes a toy around. Agatha is enchanted by her–she hasn’t looked away from her once. And you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t fallen under the same spell.

Even with the sun down, she brings more light to your life than any star could.

“She is the most perfect thing in the world,” Agatha mumbles. 

You watch with a smile as she accidentally throws the toy toward Agatha’s face. Agatha clutches her nose after taking the full brunt of the throw and you giggle.

As your hand rubs comfortingly over Agatha’s hip and waist, you don’t even see Daphne trying to reach for the toy–until Agatha glances down and gasps. 

Following her gaze, you look down and your eyes widen. “Oh my god.”

As Daphne reaches for the toy, she struggles and becomes fussy, but at the center of her tiny palm is a small ball of purple light. 

“It’s purple,” Agatha says, and she sits up quickly. “She’s trying to use magic. It’s purple.”

When you sit up, tears are forming in both of your eyes. Agatha picks Daphne up and presses a teary kiss to her cheek. “It’s purple,” she says again.

As Agatha holds Daphne against her shoulder, your arms go around them both. Your hand rubs gently up and down Daphne’s back as you wipe away Agatha’s tears and kiss her cheek. 

You sit there, holding each other quietly. And with a sniffle and a watery laugh, you press a final kiss to Agatha’s temple, muttering, “It’s purple.”

[dreamwritesimagines]

Declassified [4] - Outranked

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves🩷 I hope you like this chapter as well! 🥰 Please let me know what you think! 🩷

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: Everyone has their bad days at work.

Warnings: Explicit language, yelling.

Word Count: 3937 

Series Masterlist

Fine.

Things with Bucky had been a bit strange, at least on your part.

Ever since that night at the office and that rush of excitement you had when your hand was in his, you had been trying your hardest to ignore the feeling but it simply didn’t let you.

Throwing yourself into work didn’t do the trick either, but at least the poll numbers were amazing.

You watched while he walked down the stage through the applause and shook hands with the people in the crowd. Even you had to admit that he didn’t need to do much, voters loved him and his genuine approach. Yet, to be safe, he studied whatever you gave him thoroughly to answer each and every question with ease, clearly having read every note you put in your reports as you asked him to.

He made his way to you and Kelsey, and you smiled at him while Kelsey checked his calendar on her phone.

“The next meeting is with Mr. Davis,” she said before he could even ask. “You have half an hour.”

“Great,” he muttered, shooting you a questioning look, and you nodded, then followed him out of the building to the sidewalk. He went into the blind alley right beside the building so that you could be away from anyone who could interrupt you, then turned to look at you.

“The usual drill?” you asked and he nodded.

“Mm hm.”

“I start?”

“Please,” he said, loosening his tie a little. “Ladies first.”

You took a deep breath and unlocked your phone.

“Overall it was pretty good,” you said, checking the notes on your phone as he leaned back on the wall. “Just one thing, you could’ve given more details when they asked about our veteran plan.”

He made a face as if he was already regretting it.

“I thought the same,” he admitted. “And I was going to, then I remembered you told me earlier to lean into education for this one.”

“Yes because that’s our opponent’s weak spot, I saw his project about education, it’s a fucking joke.” You scoffed. “By the way, you nailed the education question.”

He let out a relieved breath. “Good.”

“But like I said, we can just give the overall rundown the next time someone asks about it,” you said. “I actually already prepared a draft—”

“When?”

“While you were answering the question,” you said. “It’s short and to the point, and people should hear more about it, so if we overran by like ten seconds, it won’t hurt.”

“Yeah.”

“Because our ideas are fucking amazing,” you said, looking up at him and Bucky nodded fervently.

“Most of them were your ideas.”

“We came up with them together,” you told him. “And you’re the one who’s gonna carry those to the Congress, so let the voters hear it.”

“Okay,” he said. “Noted.”

“And next, Mr. Davis,” you said. “He’s a hard-ass, however he does have a soft spot for veterans and he’s a history nerd, so please, please throw in some sort of anecdote from your time in the trenches.”

“Birdie...”

“I know you hate talking about it,” you added in a hurry. “I know but we can, in fact, use him. Could be like um, like a fun memory.”

“Fun memory,” he deadpanned. “From the trenches.”

“You know what I mean, Bucky.”

 “I’ll try,” he muttered. “My turn?”

You cleared your throat and fixed your hair to keep your hands busy before rolling your shoulders back.

“Yes,” you said. “I am now ready for your feedback. Go.”

“How much caffeine have you had so far?”

“Two Red Bulls, one Monster, three cups of coffee.”

“What did you eat?”

“Some leftover pizza as breakfast and a protein bar. Oh, and coffee beans.”

Bucky pulled his brows together. “See, that also counts as caffeine—where on earth did you get coffee beans?”

“I brought them in a ziploc. Want some?”

“No thank you.” He hummed. “And how much did you sleep last night?”

“Um…” You checked the app on your phone. “I think it’s like two and a half—oh, there. Two hours forty-five minutes.”

 “That’s ten more minutes than the other night,” Bucky pointed out and you nodded your head, pride lighting up your face.

“Yes. I’m improving.”

“So proud.”

“Why thank you,” you chirped and checked the time on your phone, then stepped closer to him to reach up to fix his tie. “I literally told you Davis is a hard-ass, you have to look put together.”

A small smile pulled at his lips as he looked down at you, and you felt your heartbeat speeding up, but you forced yourself to focus on his tie before you stepped back, nibbling on your lip.

“There. Presentable.”

“Did you change your perfume?”

You tilted your head, then slapped a hand over your forehead with a grimace.

“I forgot you’re basically a hound!” you whined. “Sorry about that. Um—Max got this perfume for me and it’s really not my type of perfume but I wanted him to feel good about it, he’s not very skilled at choosing gifts.”

He raised his brows.

“Your boyfriend doesn’t know the perfume you use?”

“…No,” you said after a beat. “No he does. It’s on the vanity, he’s seen it a thousand times.”

“So he got you a different perfume on purpose?”

You blinked a couple of times, the simple question making your stomach churn in anxiety but you shook your head, trying to shake off the thoughts.

“Let’s go,” you said, and started walking with him following you. “Is it bad? The perfume?”

“It’s not bad, it's just not you.”

“Is it the serum?” you asked. “It makes you notice these types of things more?”

“Yeah.”

“How come you didn’t say anything about the other one?”

“I like how you sme—your—your perfume,” Bucky stammered and cleared his throat. “It’s uh—it’s a nice…perfume. In general.”

“Are you sure?” You stepped out of the alley and turned to look at him better while his campaign manager Paul approached you. “About this one not being bad? Should I go home and take a very quick shower and be back?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Paul cleared his throat, his eyes darting between you two. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Bucky said. “What is it?”

“You need to be on your way to Davis,” he said and turned to you with a frown. “And you should be at the office.”

“Okay.” You grinned at Bucky. “Hey, less exposure to perfume.”

“I feel like this is common knowledge, but I’d take your perfume over Davis’,” Bucky grumbled and you let out a laugh, then made your way to the car.

                                              *

 It was a busy day today, for Bucky and you. He was supposed to meet all these people and you had thousands of emails to send, and to make things worse, Paul had given you a bunch of things to do the moment you stepped foot in the office.

“He looks more pissed off than usual,” Caleb commented and you heaved a sigh.

“Yup.”

“Why?”

“No idea,” you said. “But hey, do you know how Bucky’s meeting with Davis went?”

“Kels texted me, it went fine.”

“Just fine?” you asked and he hummed.

“I’ll ask for the details.”

“Thank you,” you said and printed out the latest report, then walked to Bucky’s office to put it on his desk so that they would be ready when he got back. You cracked your back and made a face, then took a step to walk back to your desk but Paul stopped you.

“What were you doing in there?”

You pulled your brows together. “In Bucky’s office?” you asked. “I left the latest report in there. I figured he’d want to see it.”

Paul scoffed a laugh.

“Right,” he muttered. “And what about the report that I asked for, half an hour ago?”

“You asked for a full report Paul,” you reminded him. “I had to send some emails, so I—”

“I didn’t ask for excuses,” he snapped, making you pull back a little while the rest of the bullpen fell into silence. Your cheeks started burning in shame but you swallowed thickly, commanding yourself to be calm.

“I had to send the email to that journalist you were talking about today,” you said. “I figured that it was the priority—”

“I’m sorry, you figured?” Paul asked. “I asked you to do something and what, you decided it wasn’t the priority?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Sounds like you did,” Paul said. “And sounds like we have a miscommunication problem here. You don’t decide on shit. I decide what’s important or not, you hear me?”

Okay.

You knew what to do in a situation like this.

Your whole childhood could be summarized with multiple people yelling at you, so it didn’t even take you long to snap into what was familiar. You imagined the walls going up around you just like you would when you were little, schooling your face into a completely neutral expression, keeping your eyes on Paul and not the whole office watching you.

“I don’t really give a fuck that everyone tells you you’re oh-so-smart,” Paul ranted. “I don’t give a fuck if Bucky—” he stopped himself and let out a bitter laugh. “Trust me when I say this, you’re not half as smart as you think you are.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see that Bucky had just entered the bullpen but since Paul’s back was turned to the entrance and he was so lost in his anger, he didn’t even notice people turning their gaze from him to Bucky.

“And when the stakes are this high, when we’re only a couple of months away from the elections...” Paul’s voice rose again and Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not going to let you screw this up for anyone in this team!”

Bucky took a step but you moved your hand from your side to raise it just a little before you curled your fingers into a fist. It was so subtle that neither Paul nor anyone in the room noticed it, but Bucky stopped dead in his tracks like a soldier given a strict order by his commander, his gaze burning you.

“So when I want something to be done,” Paul said. “You do it. You do not think about the priority order, you just fucking do it. Like you’re supposed to. We’re not paying you to think, we’re paying you to do as you’re told. Do you understand?”

You unclenched your fist and nodded, then turned your gaze to Bucky over Paul’s shoulder. Paul blinked a couple of times, his face going white before he followed your line of sight, and turned around.

Bucky didn’t even need to say anything to intimidate people, you were beginning to see it now. His cold glare was more than enough to pin one to their spot, hell, you weren’t even the person who was on the receiving end of it, yet you didn’t think you could move. The whole bullpen held their breath while Paul exhaled shakily, opening his mouth only to have no voice come out. Bucky stole a glance at you as if asking for your next order, but you shook your head slightly, making him clench his jaw. He turned to Paul, nodded in the direction of the door and stepped outside, Paul tripping on his own feet in his rush to follow him outside.

“Holy shit,” Caleb muttered and you bit inside your cheek, then returned to your desk, Kelsey rushing to you while Caleb scooted his chair to get closer.

“What an asshole,” Kelsey whispered. “I still have goosebumps, I’ve never seen Bucky that furious.”

“At least now we know what Howard Stark saw before he—”

“Caleb!”

“Sorry, too soon?”

Your hands were still shaky, and people were still staring at you but you grabbed your phone to send a quick text to Bucky:

Don’t. I’m serious. Don’t fire him, don’t threaten him, don’t do anything.

“Birdie, are you okay?” Kelsey reached out to squeeze your hand and your head shot up, then you tried to smile.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Caleb asked. “That was kind of harsh, even for Paul.”

You threw your shoulders back, trying to pull yourself together.

“It’s fine,” you said. “It’s…it’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

                                         *

Paul couldn’t meet your eye for the rest of the day.

In fact, you were pretty sure that he had jumped out of your way when you had to go to his office to get a file.

Even though you could tell Bucky wanted to talk to you, you weren’t exactly sure how long you would be able to keep it together and you certainly didn’t want to break down in the office, so when it was time for you to leave the office, you went home while Bucky was still out on a meeting.

You had already cried in the shower when Max texted you to say he would be working until midnight, so you ordered a bunch of snacks, put some music on, turned the TV on, found the news channel and put it on mute, then turned up the heat and got to work.

You were knee deep in the clean energy bill draft for Bucky to use in his next meeting when the roar of a motorcycle outside made you grimace and look up from your notes, your phone buzzing in your hand a couple seconds later. Your eyes widened when you saw the text, sitting up straighter like someone pinched you.

From: Winter Is Coming

Hey, I’m outside your place. Can you step out for a moment?

 Bucky?

Bucky was—

Holy shit, Bucky was outside.

You jumped on your feet and grabbed the empty snack packages, rushed to the kitchen and threw them into the garbage, your heart beating in your throat as you typed in your reply;

Be out in a sec!

You didn’t even question why you were so excited to see him, you just rushed to the bathroom to to brush your teeth and fix your hair as fast as you could, then made your way to the bedroom to grab your perfume from the vanity, your hand hitting the perfume bottle Max had got you out of the way in your hurry. You sprayed a couple of your own perfume on your skin, then ran to the living room to spritz it into the room as well. You threw the bottle on the bed and took a deep breath, then grabbed Max’s zip-up hoodie to put it on, grabbed the keys and walked out of the apartment.

Oh.

Oh alright, this was going to do wonders for your imagination.

Great.

Bucky was leaning against a motorcycle when you stepped out of the building, and he looked so irresistible that the fluttering in your stomach went crazy as you smiled at him. He eyed you up and down, and you shifted your weight from one foot to other, now realizing that you were in a crop top and tiny shorts under the unzipped hoodie; something very different than what he was used to seeing you in.

“I do have a doorbell, you know?” you joked, still holding the door open behind you and his eyes snapped to yours.

“I uh—” He frowned like he was trying to focus. “I didn’t want to disturb.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” You waved a hand in the air. “Come on in.”

He paused for a beat. “Are you sure?”

“Oh yeah, Max is working late as usual, it’s just me,” you said and made your way to your apartment with him following you. You opened the door to your apartment and stepped inside, your heart still pounding in your chest.

It was fine.

You had been to his place like a thousand times, and even bribed his cat Alpine into loving you with a can of tuna, so it just made sense that he would be here as well.

Completely professional.

Bucky’s eyes darted around the place before he closed the door behind him, then let out a breath.

“Whoa, it’s like a sauna here.”

“Yeah I need every room I’m in to be boiling,” you said with a laugh, taking off the hoodie. “I’m cold all the time, like, there was this one time I had to turn the heat on in June, Max was losing his mind.”

Bucky took off his leather jacket and you took it from him to hang it on the hanger, then made your way through the hallway with him following you.

“I got wine, beer…”

“Beer would be nice, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course,” you said as you both entered the kitchen and you took out two beer bottles from the fridge, then handed one to him.

“Thanks.” Bucky sat down on the stool and uncapped his bottle and you uncapped yours, then clinked the bottle with his. “Nice place.”

“Thank you,” you said and took a sip, perching on the other stool across from his. “So, what’s up? What brings you to my sauna?”

“I wanted to see if you’re okay,” he said. “After today.”

You scoffed. “Oh, I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

“I don’t care what Paul does. How did the meeting with Brooks go?”

“She’s nice—”

“And she’s hot as hell,” you added. “Like, seriously...”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Did you get the chance to mention that we’re interested in that fundraiser?”

“Yeah, she says we can make that happen. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“That fundraiser would make really good optics and to be honest, she’s kind of a badass—”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Bucky cut you off and you pursed your lips, then nodded.

“I don’t understand why people make such a big deal about it,” you said. “I’m used to getting yelled at, I’m okay.”

Fury flashed in Bucky’s eyes.

“This has happened before?”

“No no, not with Paul,” you said. “Which by the way, what did you tell him? He doesn’t even look me in the eye anymore.”

“Good,” Bucky said. “Means he listened.”

Butterflies returned to your stomach but you forced yourself to give him a reprimanding glare. “Bucky.”

“Hm?”

“What did you say to him?”

“Nothing much. I just explained what would happen if he pulled that shit again, very calmly.”

You had to bite back your smile. “Very calmly.”

His expression was almost too innocent. “Mm hm.”

You shook your head and took another sip of your beer while Bucky tilted his head.

“How?”

“What?”

“How are you used to it?”

“Oh.” You let out a bitter laugh. “I got yelled at a lot when I was a kid. It stops being effective after a while, to be honest with you.”

Bucky’s frown deepened and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I had this um…” You moved your hand vaguely. “I had this thing while I was growing up, I was incredibly skittish, so my dad kept yelling at me to think faster and talk faster and eat faster and—whatever you can think of, really. Kind of like a drill sergeant.” 

Bucky stared at you, a soft light shining in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I yell at him back nowadays,” you said with a small laugh. “One of the reasons why we don’t get along well. He raised me to be very outspoken, and now that my values are completely different than his, he doesn’t like it. You should’ve seen the last time they visited, we got into this huge political argument, and my mom just left to go shopping, and Max blocked it out and was like, making work phone calls in the bedroom while my father probably violated the noise ordinance laws of this building. My voice was hoarse the next day, it was crazy.”

Bucky blinked a couple of times.

“Sorry, you mean—” He paused as if he was trying to wrap his mind around the idea. “You’re telling me your father yelled at you and your boyfriend just allowed that?”

You stared at him, that familiar discomfort sinking in your stomach again before you shook your head.

“Oh it’s not like that,” you said. “He respects my father a lot, and he knew I could handle it.”

At least that was what Max had told you word by word, when you asked him where the hell he was during that argument seeing that it ended up with you bursting into tears in the bathroom.

“Did you tell him he’s not supposed to respect your father more than he respects you?” Bucky asked with a dry smile and you licked your lips, your heartbeat getting faster.

“It sounds bad when you say it like that,” you said. “But it wasn’t like that. Max is a great guy, we barely ever fight.”

Well, that was because you barely saw each other within the week.

“And um—” you stammered. “And we’re like, so in love.”

No I’m not.

The thought that flashed through your mind was so sudden and so unfamiliar that it made you stop talking and you swallowed thickly, frowning at yourself. 

What the hell?

When had that quiet doubt turned into an actual thought?

“Yeah,” Bucky’s voice cut through your haze and you looked up at him to see that soft light playing in his eyes despite how tight his jaw was. “Yeah, you mentioned that.”

“…Right.”

He held your gaze in his, making your heart skip a beat before he downed the beer and put the bottle on the kitchen island.

“I should go,” he rasped out and your stomach dropped in disappointment.

“Oh, you could stay,” you said in a rush, hope clear in your voice even if you tried to hide it. “Like I said, it’s just me here probably until like midnight or something.”

“I really shouldn’t.” He gave you an apologetic smile and stood up from the stool. “Thanks for the beer though.”

“Of course,” you said and followed him to the hallway. He grabbed his leather jacket from the hanger and you fixed your hair, clearing your throat.

“By the way, you should ride your motorcycle more,” you said with a tentative smile. “It’d skyrocket the votes.”

He chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You took a step towards him when he opened the door. “Bucky?”

He turned around to look at you better. “Hm?”

“Why—” You paused for a moment. “Paul is your campaign manager. He outranks me and—was it honestly just because of me? Today, when you pulled him aside and gave him a talk?”

 “Yeah,” he said. “It was because of you.”

“Why?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t like it when people think they can yell at you,” he pointed out. “So I’m not going to allow that. Simple as that.”

That warmth filled your chest again, a smile you couldn’t stop lighting up your face and you bounced on the balls of your feet, then nodded.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice a mere whisper and his eyes met yours, your heart beating in your throat again.

“Anytime,” he said softly. “Goodnight Birdie.”

With that, he closed the door behind him and soon enough you heard the engine of the motorcycle come to life, and drive away. Your cheeks were still burning and you pressed your palms to soothe the fire, letting out a shaky breath.

“Yeah,” you whispered into the empty room. “Goodnight Bucky.”

[houseofshy]

My First Offering - An Embroidery

This is the jeans jacket I hand embroidered for the Sleep Token concert back in December 2024.

The project took me about 6 months to complete, with a longer break in between.

It was quite a process, which I will describe below, if anyone is interested in that. If there are still questions, don't hesitate to reach out and I will answer to the best of my abilities, as I am by no means a professional :D

So. It started out as a little thought. I have that old jeans jacket collecting dust in my closet, and I want to upgrade that. Said, done.

I get a cheap pack of embroidery needles, even cheaper embroidery floss (which I regretted at one point, but I will explain that later on) and an old embroidery frame from my mother-in-law.

And then it was go time.

I started tracing the big logo in the middle. Seeing as I have absolutely no talent in drawing, I'm very glad that tracing on a tablet is an option :)

Printing that out, I taped the shape to the middle of the back piece and drew along the rim with a heaterasable pen. You can get that at any store that sells those pens with a rubber tip to erase the ink :D

After that, I set out to embroider the entire logo. It is made entirely with a satin stitch.

If there is any interest, I can explain different stitches in a seperate post :)

That took about 2-3 weeks to finish, as I work full-time, and weekends sometimes as well. Also, let's be real, I was so very slow ! But when I finished, I was so proud of myself, as it was my very first piece.

But ever the over achiever, I let it sit for a few days, before I thought "I can do more."

So, back to planning.

I sampled a lot of patterns and decided for this. It looked cool, but I wasn't sure I would complete it in time.

However, my mom did a lot of things wrong, but she didn't raise a quitter, so I got my shit together and started this enourmous project.

I ordered transfer paper online and printed everything out on there. It sticks to the material, and you can embroider on it and wash it off when you are finished.

I started with the more simple patterns, as the glyphs or the vines. Looked pretty solid, and I was extremely satisfied with my work, as well as my gained skill and haste.

Now that was the problem.

It looked so pretty at this point to me, that I was afraid of messing it up, so I fell into a bad headspace and stopped working on it for at least 8 weeks.

By now, it was end of July, so time was running out fast, considering the biggest part, the mirrored roses, still had to be done.

I got my shit back together thanks to my bestie, and started a trail run for colour scheme.

I was so happy that it looked exaktly like I imagined, and got motivation from that.

ADHD hyperfocus ON !

So I embroidered...

And embroidered (with some cat cuddles)..

And I was finally done !!

Only to realise that I have to do it ALL again on the other side !

I was about to cry, because just one single double coloured rose head took about 5-6 hours to make.

One entire rose side took me 4 weeks to finish D:

So, in the warm summer evenings, I sat on the balcony and got to work.

At least I knew what to do now and didn't have to think about that anymore.

No think, just stitch.

And one month later, I was actually finished !!

By the end of September I was done, thankfully much earlier than anticipated.

Now I simply had to wash off the water dissolvable transfer paper.

I did handwash it, but there was some glue residue left, so I had to bite the bullet and put it in the washer.

Those thirty-something minutes were terror. I was afraid the stitches won't hold, or the residue won't come off.

But thankfully, it was alright, and I let it dry out in the sun.

Now I wear that jacket whenever I can !! I love it so much.

I got quite a few compliments, especially at the London gig.

But the best one was when I went shopping for more high quality floss in a local craft store, and older lady complimented the jacket, and told me she was happy that the youth keeps things like that alive.

So, I made it a permanent hobby and already started another project on here that I will want to update regularly.

Thank you for reading, and feel free to ask away :D

Ps.: If you read this far, maybe leave a humble like or reblog ? <3

Thank you; A. \(^o^)/

[bloomzone]

Okay, so I just recognized some mistakes I’ve been doing lately literally just saved myself from repeating them again. And honestly, I noticed a lot of other students are making these same mistakes too. So here’s Part 2 of my “Study Mistakes I Did But Saved Myself Before It Was Too Late.” If you relate to any of these, take it as your sign to stop before it’s too late.

part 1

lesson 1 : the “failure” mindset.

Right now, I’m literally in this crazy state. Like the failure mode. It's insane , I do a million past papers, then I tell myself, “Yes, you did well today.” But I wake up the next day with the same mindset: No, girl, you need to do more. Like, what if all those questions don’t show up on the exam?Yes, stress can help it drives you sometimes. For me, it worked most of the time. That fear of failure push me to study harder. But don’t let failure control you. I really wish I could change my mindset, especially before big exams or finals.We always think, what if I fail instead of what if I succeed? So please, try not to stress too much. Even small efforts count. Stay motivated. I know discipline is important, but we’re human. Especially high school students there’s pressure from everywhere. Everyone expects something from you.So try to motivate yourself. Make your breakfast in the morning. Watch something motivational when you wake up. It will remind you why you're doing this.You’re a student. You need to succeed. But sometimes we lose that passion . So keep some backup motivation ready. Think: What if I succeed? Always and Study hard. Do everything you can so you can feel good and proud about urself later.

lesson 2 : using AI for essays.

Please, please, please stop using AI if you’re still doing it especially for essays idk about u use ai or not it's ur life idc but if u are a STUDENT hear me out If your exams are still a bit far and you’re using AI to do your homework, especially your essays, stop now.I swear, some classmates of mine used AI the whole year. Especially for French essays. I know not everyone is great at French even if it’s our mother tongue , some people treat it like a second language tooThere’s this one girl in my class she used ChatGPT for every single argumentative essay. And our teacher praised her: “Oh my god, I love your writing!” and gave her plus points. I got mad. Like… I wrote my essay 100% by hand, all real. And then the teacher accused ME of using AI? I was like Girl wtf 💀💀💀 this is 100% mine.And in the actual exam, that girl got 13/20 and i I got 19/20 and then the teacher believes me after •́⁠ ⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠,⁠•̀.f you use AI all year, you’ll look so stupid in the exam. So please, even if you need help, don’t rely on AI. Just read articles, watch videos on YouTube, act like AI doesn’t exist.Read more, watch teachers online, documentary anything that helps you build real knowledge and vocabulary. You’ll get better and your essays will show it.

lesson 3 : Not organizing your notes.

This one is real. Please don’t do what I did: I lost every single note from first semester. I still don’t know where I put them.So if you’re someone who writes by hand, please always keep a folder next to you. As soon as you finish a paper, put it in the folder. Keep your folders in a place where no one touches them.The only thing that saved me I take pictures of my notes. So please, every time you write something important and feel like you might lose it take a photo. Just in case.

lesson 4 : Not sleeping early.

I’ve been doing this mistake recently, during prep week when we’re home from school. The stress is too much. Not because I can’t sleep I actually fall asleep in minutes. The problem is I don’t sleep early. I have no fixed schedule.If you study in the morning, you need to sleep early. I wake up around 5 or 6 a.m., but I sleep at midnight. That’s just 4–5 hours of sleep. And it’s not enough. I get headaches. I burn out.Today, for example, I woke up at 6 after sleeping at midnight. I had the worst headache. I made coffee but didn’t even drink it.Also, if you get headaches easily, be careful with coffee. Drink water first. Move around a bit before having it.So then I tried studying but couldn’t. I opened a YouTube video to study, but I couldn’t focus. I ended up lying down, playing the video on my phone, and falling asleep again with the teacher’s voice still playing I felt like a loser fr it made me so sad. So please, if you work best in the morning, be in bed at LEAAAST by 10 p.m.And if you’re a night owl and study until 2–3 a.m., please sleep long enough after that. Your brain needs it.Just be organize your sleep schedule. Everyone has their best time to focus just build your routine around it. The time will pass anyway, so spend it right.

stay healthy everyone 💭

@bloomzone

[deepspace-raconteur]

Zayne x Caleb x MC, established relationship.

Honestly it’s just porn that wouldn’t leave me alone till I wrote it…. So here it is. Puppy!Caleb, Dom!zayne, switch!MC, everyone is a switch actually zayne’s just mildly irritated here and Caleb’s at fault, hinted kitten!MC, MC gets choked for not sending an email, that’s all I think.

🍎❄️

“Oh shit, shit, shit-!”

“I haven’t seen you scamper that fast in a while.” I observe mildly from the bar counter. It still smells a bit like the leftovers from Caleb’s cooking last night I had warmed up.

“I ate the last apple tart!” Is the only verbal explanation that comes from the frantic purple-eyed blur. I think a kiss might get pressed to my forehead at some point in greeting, but it’s too quick to really tell.

Caleb and Zayne were both arriving back from work now. At around the same time, as it usually panned out. Who knew two workaholics could actually get their schedules under control when they knew there were lovers waiting for them at home.

The purple blur speeds down the hallway towards the other rooms in the apartment, and a chilly breeze blows into the apartment.

No, actually. The temperature drops by at least 4 degrees when Zayne enters, closing the front door firmly but calmly behind him. It’s a scene that has played out a thousand times before when he shrugs off the thick trench-coat, leaving him in just the dark green shirt and vest below. His glasses come off next, stored in a case, stashed in the coat’s breast pocket. His briefcase, the first thing to have been set down, sits neatly beside his black brogue shoes.

“Welcome home, my love.” I smile warmly, and accept the quick kiss and waist squeeze that serves as Zayne’s greeting.

“So I heard something about a certain puppy eating the last apple tart? I’m assuming it’s the one you were texting me earlier about looking forward to.” I call out, thoroughly amused. I think I might hear a rather frantic, and loud, thud from down the hall.

“Yes, you assumed correctly.” Is the only response that comes. Zayne is swift in his check of the fridge to be sure of the status of the situation, ever the thorough doctor in his collection of data and evidence.

There is no plate hiding in the fridge with a piece of apple tart upon it. In fact, there isn’t a sweet treat of any kind to be found.

Zayne’s incorrigible sweet tooth will have to be satiated in some other way.

Caleb’s fate is sealed in ice.

I can’t hold in the grin as I watch Zayne stalk down the hallway, turning at the last door on the left. Our bedroom, home to a king mattress that could somehow be both too big and too small depending on the situation.

Also home to the rather vast collection of sex toys we each owned. Caleb was in for a rough night.

“Now, hang on, frosty-“

Another loud thud that sounds like a body hitting the wall, and it goes quiet…

… and it stays quiet. For a while. I can’t keep the stupid, horny grin off my face as I imagine what Zayne could possibly be doing to the puppy in there. Zayne could be ruthless, and his sweet tooth was a notorious trigger that Caleb and I both abused occasionally. A shiver runs down my spine when I remember what had happened the last time a ‘no sugar in the house’ tragedy occurred. I had a limp for a full 24 hours, and Zayne somehow got Caleb to sleep past the first lights of dawn.

(The fleet had ingrained a few… horrific tendencies in Caleb. Rising with the sun was one of them. It made me miss the days where Caleb and I would both be perpetrators of waking up well past morning hours.)

The quiet is broken by a frantic wail. Certainly Caleb; and while a wail that heart-broken sounding would usually be a cause for concern, I knew better. Zayne had probably just taken his hand off Caleb’s cock- or his fingers out of his ass. Given how loud it was though, and the amount of desperation present in the tone…

Zayne was intending to break the poor puppy tonight. Oh boy, it must’ve been a rough day at work on top of the stolen treat.

I insert a bookmark into my novel, then meander down the hallway. The final piece of the trio.

Oh, and what a sight do I behold upon turning into the bedroom.

“You wanted to act like a puppy and eat what you weren’t supposed to, and now you have the gall to act like a brat when it’s time for your consequences? Obviously I’ve let your leash go too slack.”

Zayne’s got Caleb all but pinned to the headboard and the wall it’s against. The decorative pillows and plushies are scattered off each side of the bed haphazardly. Caleb has a gag shoved in his mouth, one with a cock insert I know makes your jaw ache after a while. His arms are wrenched behind him, tied in some manner no doubt. I can’t see around Zayne, fully clothed in contrast to Caleb’s nudity, and therefore can’t see exactly what he’s doing to make Caleb’s eyes roll back the way they are. A sound like he’s dying is ripped from Caleb’s throat.

I stand back just to watch as Zayne’s arms speed up, and Caleb’s back arches sharply. His legs twitch and his feet kick and try to gain traction to get him away from Zayne’s ministrations. They never do.

“ ‘M sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-“ Caleb whines pathetically, hips still jerking into Zayne’s grip. Seeing THE Fleet Colonel like this, broken in by Zayne’s elegant and skilled hands, shoots liquid heat down through my core. No one would ever believe us, that he gets to have him like this.

Hell, who would believe us if we hold them that Linkon’s highest ranked heart surgeon knew hundreds of way to make the Fleet’s top Colonel and the best Hunter in Linkon beg?

I sit down carefully at the edge of the bed at the other end from them. Caleb’s eyes meet mine, hazy and half-lidded in pleasure. His cheeks twitch, and I think he’d be giving me a dopey fucked-out grin if it wasn’t for the gag.

Zayne does something different suddenly, and Caleb’s eyes bulge as a sob is muffled through the gag. He curls in on himself, a line of drool dripping down his chin from the gag as his orgasm wracks his body. His face ends up shoved in the curve of Zayne’s neck, seeking solace. Zayne seems more than happy to keep him there, gently petting his hair and murmuring into his ear. It’s then I notice a wet mark in the shape of teeth adorning Zayne’s upper bicep.

“Aw, did puppy bite when you pounced on him?” I snicker, crawling forward on the bed so I’m closer. I reach my hand up to pet Caleb’s hair, and from there my hand slides down to rest over the mark.

“Yes, he did get quite an attitude for a moment, but the gag took care of it.” Zayne murmurs. He seems calmer now, and I smile.

Zayne gently and carefully strips Caleb of his accoutrements, rubbing the mildly irritated skin of his wrists. His lips get chapstick applied to them, perpetually chapped as they are, and a sweet little kiss to finish. Then he’s lied down carefully across the head of the bed, Zayne speaking as he maneuvers the massive puppy.

“Don’t think he’s the only one facing consequences this evening, sweetheart. Did you send that email to Captain Jenna today, like you said you would?”

I freeze like a deer in headlights as Zayne turns to me. I don’t catch Caleb watching from under heavy-lidded eyes, lips twitching at the corners.

I had not, in fact, sent that email yet. Zayne sees my response written across my features.

Zayne’s hand is around my throat and I’m pinned down next to Caleb before I can really process any of it. My hands fly to wrap around his wrist instinctively, but not to try and escape. Just… to hold as I look up at him with big, pleading eyes to go easy on me. Zayne calmly takes one of my hands in his free one, and guides it to clasp with one of Caleb’s. The not-quite-dozing third member squeezes it gently three times. ‘I-love-you’.

Zayne leans down until his lips are pressing to my ear, breath warm down my neck. “I know how we both love it when Caleb whines like a puppy.” My breath picks up. Another surge of heat burns through me.

“But what is it that your new friend calls you?” Zayne ponders. “Kitten? Yes, that’s it… I wonder… since I can make Caleb whine so cutely like a puppy, could I get you to purr like a kitten for us? I think finding the answer to that question would suit just fine as a motivator for getting that email sent…”

[bringbackmaes14]

I mean on top of:

- Major gender dysphoria

- Just kinda not wanting to be a parent in general

- Being scared of passing down my disabilities (neurological and genetic chronic health issues) to any hypothetical kids

- All Of The Generational Trauma Dating Back To My Great Grandparents On Both Sides Of My Family™

There's kinda also the fact that like. I'm kinda terrified that if I for some reason was able to and did choose to carry a pregnancy to term, giving birth might legitimately kill me or possibly paralyze me?

I mean, the idea of going through pregnancy with hEDS, POTS, and MCAS is bad enough. But my L4 and L5 vertebrae are fused to my sacrum with 2 titanium rods and 4 screws. When I broke my spine and it never healed on its own (requiring the 2 rods and 4 screws), they told me I was literally about 6 mm off from severing my spinal cord.

I don't need to play around with things pushing on my spine. Or my hips for that matter. Both my hips were also irreparably fucked up by that spinal surgery and I can only imagine that, even if I didn't give birth and had a C-section instead, the pregnancy itself would do even more damage to them.

And actually moving away from childbirth and focusing on the pregnancy aspect, I do not need to deal with morning sickness when I already get POTS nausea and also throwing up gives me migraines and migraines like 7 out of 10 times turn into me having seizures because of my PNES. And I don't need to deal with the swollen ankles because that's the joint that I sublux the most and that would just be... so much more fun 😑. And also the back pain? No thank you. And I'm missing a rib? I mean it's up by my neck, but who knows if what kinda support structure I'm working with given the hEDS and my missing rib and bad back and shoulders and hips. I also already have hypersomnia. I do not want to be anymore exhausted than I already am. Don't need it. No thanks. I already have to sleep at least 10 hours a day to feel rested please do not make it minimum 12.

So yeah my body is already kind of an all around dystopian nightmare and I already have trouble keeping my own body functioning let alone another body in my body and I don't wanna die. I am extremely terrified of being pregnant/giving birth.

And wouldn't you know it's just extra fun because we have multiple stories of first try/accidents/menopause babies in our family because the female born people are so fertile AND we have multiple sets of twins and triplets (including myself) so I get to be extra extra careful all the time 😭👍

We ask your questions anonymously so you don’t have to! Submissions are open on the 1st and 15th of the month.

[vicsnook]

Busy Woman | Aaron Hotchner x Reader

word count: 2911

warnings: 18+, Smut, unprotected p in v

notes: I am alive y’all! Just doing a lot more reading than writing lately (writers block sucks!). But since I was binging CM, I figured I’d take a shot at a little something with my favorite man aka Hotch. Also, fuck decided we would only get bearded Hotch for one episode (a crime). Hope y’all like it and don’t forget to like/reblog 🫶🏼. Thank you for all your love on my other posts!

Working at the BAU as a profiler was a blessing and a curse, more of a curse when you have an unrequited crush on your boss. Nevertheless, at least your coworkers hadn’t figured it out. That was until Hotch was shot.

4 hours before

“The unsub will most likely be scouting the area for his next prey now that there is a concert in town. That’s why it’s very important that we canvass the area.” Hotch said, as we all took notes. “We’re looking for a white male in his late 20s to early 30s, he will look out of place, possibly antisocial, blah, blah blah.”

I knew I had to pay better attention but Hotch had ditched his usual suit for a polo shirt today and it felt like the temperature dropped 10 degrees hotter when he walked in. Spencer kicking me under the table thankfully snapped me out of my daydream and signaled the end of the meeting. I shot him a painful but grateful smile as we got up and headed to the elevator.

“You know you really need to pay attention to those briefings, right? What’s gotten into you?” Spencer questions me as I quickly press the 1st floor button, hoping no one overheard him.

“I know Spence. I’m just having trouble sleeping.” I answer, trying not to blush as the dream I had last night rushes back into my memory. Running my hands across Hotch’s chest as he kisses my neck and- No! I need to snap out of it.

“Sexual frustration can lead to sleeping troubles.” Spencer mouths off and I will the elevator to go down faster in my mind.

“Ha ha, very funny. I’m not frustrated.” I say, stepping out of the elevator into the lobby and heading for my car before Spencer can answer or psychoanalyze me even more.

I swallow hard as I watch Hotch get in his car across the parking lot, the little bit of chest hair visible with that polo is doing things to me I feel shameful to admit. Maybe Emily is right and I just need to get laid with someone other than my boss.

-

The jet ride to Chicago is mostly uneventful except for the few times Hotch caught me staring. If the ground could swallow me whole, those would’ve been the perfect times. Nevertheless, I follow everyone out onto the tarmac and try to act as normal as possible. For fuck’s sake, I’m an FBI profiler, a workplace crush should not have this effect on me.

The day goes by quickly as we set up our perimeter and as luck would have it, I’m partnered with Hotch until we get the signal to move inside the venue inconspicuously and make our arrest. Thankfully CPD identified the suspect with DNA left behind at one of the crime scenes so this should be a pretty cut and dry case.

We don’t make small talk, our eyes focused on the door, every minute counts. But when our suspect runs out the building wielding a gun, the street fills with screams and I’m being pushed back behind the car, Hotch in front of me.

“Stay down, I have a clear visual. Notify the team that I’m in pursuit.” Hotch practically yells at me as shots ring out ahead of us and he’s off running before I can muster a response.

I follow his instructions and against my own instincts stay back because I know better than to disobey Hotch. Thankfully I know Derek is right behind him. But my feet are running towards their direction, the second I hear “agent down” on the radio. Please don’t be anyone on the team.

I push past people and the chaos surrounding me as I try to get to where I see JJ on the phone. I know then, that it’s one of us. But I don’t even make it to her before Emily is grabbing my arm and pulling me away from the crowd and the rest of the team.

“What the hell are you doing!?” I yell at her as I try to get my arm loose but her grip tights. “You’ll thank me later.” She mutters, loud enough for only me to hear and we stop beside her assigned SUV. “Derek apprehended the suspect but Hotch was shot. Now look at me and calm down before we walk over.”

My legs feel like jello as it sinks in. Hotch has been shot. I look her in the eyes and see the concern etched in them. She’s known all along what I thought I hid well. “How?” I manage to ask, as my breathing slows.

“Please YLN, we’re profilers. I’ve known you were in love with him from the moment you saw him. For fuck’s sake you’ve brought him coffee just about every morning the past year.” She says, like I'm an idiot. I am.

“In love?” I question, knowing she’s right. I passed the crush territory a long while ago. But she just arches a brow in response and gives me a knowing smile. “Ready?”

Panic overtakes me again as I’m snapped back to reality. Hotch has been shot. And I nod, following her through the now mostly dissipated crowd where I catch a glimpse of the EMT’s. It’s just a shoulder wound, I realize as I lock eyes with Hotch and he shoots me a pained smile. Relief floods me as I come to a stop beside him.

“Always the one to take all the glory.” I quip, and he smiles at me again. The butterflies in my stomach are going so insane, I think I might throw up. Actually it’s probably the adrenaline.

“I bet you miss being a communications liason,” Hotch says as they bandage him up and I try to not stare at his shirtless torso. “It has its days. But JJ was right, the action is more fun,” I respond, doubting my words a little.

“You know we wouldn’t judge if you wanted to step down. Profiling isn’t for everyone.” He sure does know best, I think as he sees through my hesitation. “I know, but I wouldn’t want to be reassigned.” I shockingly admit. So much for not telling anyone.

“I’ll see to it that you stay with us if you decide to step down. We’ll talk more about it later.” He says, and I nod, handing him back his bloodied polo. “We will.”

-

2 weeks later

I pack my things up as the clock nears 7, long days at the field office are always the worst. But I’m still a profiler and that comes with the territory. Switching off my laptop, I hear Hotch clear his throat behind me.

“Can we talk?” He asks as I whip around my chair and I’m met with his waist at eye level. Don’t think about it. I raise my face and meet his brown eyes and my heart skips a beat or a few. “Sure,” I respond, as he moves back and I get up to follow him into his office. Noticing everyone else has already left.

I take a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk and cross my legs to avoid him noticing my restless feet. He smiles softly as he takes a seat across from me.

“YN, I haven’t been honest with you and it’s hypocritical of me to demand anything from you day in and day out without being honest,” he starts and heart beats so loudly I’m afraid he might hear it. I nod, signaling for him to continue and he stands up, walking around the desk and taking a seat on it in front of me. “When you asked to be a profiler, it didn’t concern me as it was a natural progression of the job. But being in the field with you, truth is, I can’t concentrate because I’m worried about your safety and that compromises the safety of the rest of the team.” I swallow hard at his words. Am I getting fired?

“I heard Prentiss in the elevator. I apologize if I’m overstepping but after Haley’s death, I promised myself I wouldn’t let anyone else go by because of this job.”

“What do you -?” But he silences me with a raise of a hand.

“I’m a little rusty in the dating department but what I’m trying to say is that I like you, in a not friend way. That’s why I selfishly asked if you wanted to step back down to communications liason because knowing you’re safe at the office, allows me to do my job efficiently and doesn’t conflict with me and you being more than friends if you’re interested.” He says, scratching his neck as he finishes his statement.

The part of my brain that is responsible for speech fails me as the words sink in. My boss, Aaron Hotchner just confessed he has feelings for me and I’m staring at him like a dumbass.

“Hotch, I-”

“You can call me Aaron,” he interrupts.

“Aaron” the word feels so familiar on my lips and he nods. Words are still failing me as I get up from my chair and he stands up too as I close almost all the space between us.

My hands grab on to his button up that was ironed to perfection just a few moments ago and then I pull him down to meet my lips. One of his hands immediately goes to my waist pulling me impossibly closer and the other is on the back of my neck as he kisses me senseless and I feel dizzy as every emotion I’d been holding back comes to the surface.

He pulls away for a moment and I notice his eyes darken as he pulls me in for another kiss and this time his tongue parts my lips to meet mine and he tilts my head, deepening the kiss and I moan into his mouth. Desire cursing through me as he turns us around and lifts me onto the desk and I wrap my legs around him wanting more. Needing more.

“Fuck,” he swears, breaking away from me, and we’re both panting like we ran one of the marathons he’s so fond of.

“Was that answer enough?” I ask, my hands coming to rest on his biceps. If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up.

“I mean it answered one of my questions.” He presses a kiss to my temple, and damn you Aaron Hotchner for being so hot.

“I’ll step down, but not because you asked, but because I think I do better work as a communications liason,” I say truthfully. A weight lifting off my shoulders now that I’m finally being honest not just with Aaron but with myself.

“So then, will you let me take you out for dinner?” He asks, and I smile whispering a quick yes before pulling him in for another kiss. I’m going to need to take a very cold shower before work tomorrow.

—

A few months later

Dating Aaron has been nothing short of a dream. Stepping back down to being a communications liason was the best decision for me too, and I feel like my career is back on track. The only snag, the team still doesn’t know. Well except Emily, but she can really keep a secret.

I take one last look in the mirror and spray some perfume before heading out the door. The drive to his house is conveniently 10 minutes away from my apartment. Hopefully he’s already dropped Jack off at the babysitters house.

Pulling in the driveway I see his truck is still missing so I let myself inside, smiling at the flowers he’s set at the kitchen table for me. I’m interrupted quickly though by the sound of a door slamming outside, and my heart begins to pound in excitement.

“Honey? Are you here?” Aaron’s voice echoes through the house as he walks in through the front door. His well pressed suit has me squeezing my thighs together. Gosh, why does he always look so good?

“In here,” I call out, getting up from the couch and fixing my dress. A hint of a smirk plays on his lips when I look up and I know I picked the right dress as he walks over, placing a soft kiss on my lips. “You look amazing, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” I barely stammer out as goosebumps rise on my neck when he pulls back from my ear. I take his outstretched hand and follow him out to the truck and he being ever the gentleman opens my door and helps me in.

“Where are we going?” I ask, staring out the window at the unfamiliar road, his hand coming to rest on my thigh as he looks over and flashes me a half smile.

“It’s a surprise darling, but we’re taking a little detour first.” The glint in his eye is mischievous and I know I’m in for an adventure tonight. I shake my head, trying to clear my dirty thoughts as he pulls off the gravel road onto a dirt one, finally coming to a stop in front of a secluded clearing.

“Well this is a good spot to dump a body.” I observe, and Hotch chuckles, shaking his head. The sound filling my chest and making me feel warm all over.

“I don’t think I can sit down across from you all night in that dress without wanting to run my hands all over you, so I figured maybe we could take care of that first.”

“Oh so I’m your appetizer?” I quip, unbuckling my seatbelt as he slides his seat back and reaches over the console to help me get on his lap. Did he get a truck just for this?

My dress bunches up on my waist as I straddle him, and he looks at me through half lidded eyes before crushing my mouth to his. His tongue immediately finds its way to mine, fighting for dominance as I grind on him. Oh, for fucks sake, I need this man right now.

He grins, pulling away and placing a strand of loose hair behind my ear. “You’re so gorgeous, Y/N” he whispers, kissing up the column of my neck and I shudder at the feel of it. I don’t want to wait, I want him now. All of him.

“I need you,” I practically whine, as his hands slip under my dress and squeeze my bare ass firmly and I’m suddenly glad I decided to go commando tonight. “Do you, baby?” “Yes,” I moan and he kisses me so slowly that I feel like I might combust if he doesn’t speed up.

He lifts me from his lap just enough to unbutton his dress pants and pull them down along with his boxers and with both hands on my waist he sets me down carefully on his hard cock and I arch my back in pleasure as the head makes contact with my clit.

His dark brown eyes stare into mine as he slides me back and forth against his length and the contact is enough to have me gripping his shoulders and throwing my head back in pleasure. But I want more, I want him inside me.

And as if reading my mind he slides his hands under my ass, lifting me up just enough so that the head of his cock is at my entrance and then he’s slowly lowering me onto him, inch by inch. I tremble as he fills me up, and I want nothing more than to stay like this forever.

We both groan in pleasure when he’s fully seated in me and I lean forward and catch his lips with mine as he withdraws an inch or two then pulls me back down.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he rasps against my lips and it’s enough to make me reach for the back of his seat and set my own pace, chasing that high. Our moans fill the car, and I’m glad the area is secluded because I get louder as he grabs on to my waist and meets my thrusts.

His face is buried in my cleavage and I feel my body start to tense as I get closer and closer. And he knows my body so well that he speeds up, wanting to get me there. “That’s it baby, let go,” he coo’s as I sink my nails into the seat and my legs begin to shake. Chanting his name so loud like a prayer as I reach my high and my walls flutter around him.

His thrusts become sloppy as he fucks me through my orgasm and I know he’s close. Throwing my head back I feel his teeth on my neck and seconds later he lets go, spilling inside me with a groan that makes my head spin.

We lock eyes and he shoots me a lazy smile making my heart flutter. “Well we definitely worked up an appetite,” I joke, still panting. “Oh baby, that was just the beginning.” Fuck, I think, wanting to skip dinner altogether.

“Now let’s get you cleaned up and fed so that when I fuck you tonight, the neighbors call the cops from how loud you’re screaming my name.”

Who knew the unit chief of the BAU had such a filthy mouth. I’m definitely in for a long night.

[laundryandtaxesworld]

Fuck It Friday

tagged by @bidisasterevankinard 🩷

The sun peeked through the curtains and shone in Buck’s face. He squinted awake. They really needed new curtains. He hated when the sun woke him up when he wanted to sleep in. He rolled over and snuggled into Tommy’s back. He heard Tommy sigh and shift until he was on his back. He wrapped his arms around Buck and cracked his eyes open.

“Good morning, love.”

“Mornin’” Buck snuggled into Tommy’s chest and sighed. If he could he would cuddle his boyfriend all day. Sadly that would not pay the bills. But bills were not due at the moment, so Buck stayed in bed and cuddled with Tommy who was not looking like he was in a hurry.

“What’s your schedule like?” Buck asked as he traced his fingers around stomach.

“I have a shift from 2 pm to 4 am Tuesday and I’m picking up a second shift because Davis is visiting his mother so that shift is from 12 am till 2pm on Wednesday. What about you?”

“Shifts from 5 pm today till 5pm Wednesday and then I’m off.” Buck paused and then suggested: “We could have a date friday. We’re both free.”

“That would be nice, we haven’t gone out in awhile.”

“I’ll plan it after breakfast.”

“Mmm, okay.” Tommy sighed, “We should get up. I want to go for a run this morning.” Buck pouted but he let go of Tommy’s waist.

“Don’t give me that look, we still have,” Tommy glanced at the clock. 7 am. “Seven hours until I have to leave. We can cuddle after breakfast.”

“Finnne.” Tommy smiled and leaned over kissing Buck on his birthmark before he swung his legs out of bed and went to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Buck groaned as he rolled out of bed. These were one of the days where he didn’t want to go to work. It was cold and dreary and people would have so many accidents because of the cold weather.

tagging: @quintessenceofdust88 @thefixations-ofmine @mustlovelou @bisexualbrainrots

[wowzees]

finally happy together.

warnings: MAJOR CHARCTER DEATH, angst, cheating, lando has an ex, but not named, no use of y/n, only you, fem reader, suicide, substance abuse (alcohal), depression, mental health inssues

In no way is lando this way in real life! this is just a story

When you met Lando, your life changed.

It went to stressing over due dates and paying off student loans to being in a new country every week. It went from wearing the same 3 t-shirts, 2 pairs of sweatpants and a ratty old pair of converse to designer dresses and heels so expensive you could buy a house.

Lando was great! He was caring, gentle and sweet. He took care of you, took you to places you have only dreamed of going to. He convinced you to finish up your degree, then to travel with him across the world. convinced you that he was all you ever needed in life.

but, it also came with insecurity. It went from being happy with yourself to worrying you weren't good enough for lando. You would see a new girl on his arm every week, even if he claimed it was friendly.  That it was a team member. Reassuring you that he would “neeeeeverrrrrr try something, especially if you were there!”

you trusted him.

Then, while you were in the hotel room, sipping on a glass of wine, getting ready to go out, he told you he was going out to meet an old friend really quickly. Told you he’d be back in time to go to the club, and to wait for him.

You said ok.

You waited, and waited and waited. After 5 hours, you went to get changed, washed off your makeup, and went  to bed.

you cried yourself to sleep.

When you woke up, Lando still wasn't next to you. 

you started to spiral, wondering if you weren't pretty enough, good enough for him. Wondered if he just didn't want to be seen with you.

Then you checked your phone. When you opened twitter, the first thing that was in your timeline was a picture of lando. in his car.

with his ex.

making out.

The next thing on your timeline was another picture of lando. This time in a club, drink in his hand, other hand on his ex’s ass. He had hickey’s all over his neck, his hair was messed up, clearly having been pulled on, and had lipstick stains all over his face.

you went outside. to the rooftop. you sat there for hours. wondered if they were still together, hanging out. maybe fucking. Who knows?

you fell asleep around 4, still on the rooftop, exhausted from all of the emotional turmoil.

when you woke up, the stars were out. mocking you, showing you how a real girl shines. like his ex. His ex was a star. had half the world wrapped around her finger.  tan, long legs for miles. the facial structure of a goddess. long, blond hair, nearly to her waist. personality of a bitch.

but your mom used to always say that when you were pretty enough, you could be the worst person alive and still have people fawn over you.

you were startled out of your thoughts when you heard a door slam. 

when you looked up, you saw oscar.

“are… you alright?”

“aren't the stars lovely tonight?”

“You didn't answer my question.”

“i didn't want to lie”

After that, you and Oscar just sat. you just sat together, until the sun came up. when you left the rooftop, he was still there. He would never know how much he helped me by sitting with me, so I wasn't alone with my thoughts.

When you got back into your hotel room, Lando was there.

all smiles, clearly happy.

His hickeys were like little presents. from her to me. letting me know that he was hers.

“fuck off, lando” you murmured, after him trying to give you a hug.

“what happened? Why are you upset?”

“maybe look in a fucking mirror, and tell me. Why would you cheat lando? I thought we were happy?” you scream, finally letting the tears fall.

“I don't see a future with you.” he whispered, almost scared of the repercussions.

“what?” I whispered, all the fight gone.

“I quit my job for you lando! gave up everything, and 4 years into the relationship, you tell you you don't see a future with me? what the fuck?” you say, not yelling but not quite whsipreing either.

you don't let him speak, before grabbing your suitcase and leaving.

you never realized how much you relied on lando. Now, you had no form of paying for anything.

including therapy, which you were going to need. Because all you saw was Lando and his now girlfriend. all over the place. At your favorite cafe? they were making out in the line. at your favorite hiking spot? they were right in front of you. at the nail salon? there she was, getting her nails done. Coincidentally, in the same color of his tip.

you about had it.

your mental health was shit, you had no job and are miserable. 

After taking a break from social media, you thought you were getting better!

Then, you failed your 4th job interview.

you redownloaded twitter.

low and behold, his girlfriend was talking shit.

and Lando said nothing.

which actually kinda surprised you, because he still texted happy birthday to you. wished you a merry christmas, even though you've never really celebrated.

you spiralled. stayed in bed for days, only getting up when someone knocked on your door.

It was an eviction notice.

you had always been scared of the dark.

it terrified you. you didn't know what was in it, and that scared you the most.

with lando, it went away. the voices became quieter. kinder.

when he left, it got 10x worse.

When you got the eviction letter, it was like being locked in a room with no light.

just darkness.

when you received your new medication for depression, you relapsed.

you overdosed. had a bottle of wine, took too many pills.

and for once, the darkness was comforting.

you survived. you may have survived, but you weren't living.

When Lando found out he broke down.

He caused this. He knew he did. And at the end of the day, he was miserable. His girlfriend was more like a roommate. Sometimes, after claiming she was going out with friends, he would hear  a male voice, low and seductive. He turned it out. He believed the lies she fed him. that no one else would love him without her. that his friends would all leave. that he did the right thing, cheating on you.

he left her. Then and only then, he had his breakdown alone. quietly. 

when you saw lando and his girlfriend broke up, you were furious. and sad, but mostly furious.

he cheated on you, just to break up?

you had a bottle of vodka this time. you went out for a walk. you ended up on a bridge.

Then, you jumped.

you ended up in the bottom of a river.

When Lando saw the article, he cried. slow, silent tears.

he went to where you jumped. stood where you stood. Then, he joined you.

People like to say when he went up to heaven, he saw you. standing at the gates, waiting for him

and though they are lying dead, in a river, with no heartbeat, they finally got the happy ending they wished for, 7 years ago when they first met. They are now happy somewhere where no one can disturb them.

When you met Lando, people warned you that things would change.

and change what they did.

[bubblyi3]

Between Us, Before Us Part 7 | KTH

"what you love will always pull you back. no matter how far you run."

pairing: taehung x female reader

genre: slice of life, angst, fluff

word count: 4.2k

content warning: angst, mild smut, trauma, cheating themes, pregnancy, heartbreak, toxic relationship, time jump here and there.

summary: between the past and future lies the aching space of now. with taehyung, you've journeyed through love, heartbreak, and growth. once strangers, then lovers, now something more complicated, your connection is shaped by time, mistakes, and second chances. this is the story of who you were when you first fell for him, who you became through the pain, and who you might still become if you dare to hope again. in the space between healing and longing, one thing remains: him.

author's note: no comment from me :) i'll just let this part of the series speak for itself.

© disclaimer: please do not copy, translate or reproduce any part of this work without my permission. thank you!

*fiction rooted in real emotions and experiences.

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6

Taehyung's POV:

The studio smelled of cold coffee and cables. Taehyung leaned back in his ergonomic chair, the monitors casting a soft glow on his face. Across from him, Jungkook sat with his legs stretched out, barely touching his beer. There was a beat of silence between them. The kind that only existed between two people who had seen each other through everything.

“You’ve been quiet lately.” Jungkook finally said. His voice low and careful.

“Like… different quiet.”

Taehyung didn’t answer immediately. His fingers danced over the mixing board, even though the track they were working on had stopped playing half an hour ago.

“I need to tell you something.” Taehyung said. Barely above a whisper.

Jungkook’s brows drew together, concern flickering before it hardened.

“What is it?”

There was a pause before Taehyung spoke again.

“I slept with Jisoo. Once... twice.”

The silence that followed was thick. Jungkook just stared at him. His expression didn’t twist into anger. It just fell, like something inside him gave way.

“You’re joking.” He said, though he already knew Taehyung wasn’t.

“I wish I was,” Taehyung said, shaking his head.

Jungkook looked away, biting the inside of his cheek. When he spoke again, his voice was low.

“I knew you two were close. But I didn’t think you’d actually do something like that.”

“She doesn’t know." Taehyung added quickly.

“And I’m not planning to tell her. There’s already so much… she doesn’t need another reason to hate me.”

Jungkook let out a short, humorless breath. “You really think she won’t find out?”

Taehyung stayed silent. Jungkook turned to look at him again, disappointment heavy in his eyes. “I expected more from you, Tae. Especially when it comes to her.”

He ran a hand through his hair, eyes tired. “I promised myself I’d just be there for her and the baby. That once the baby’s born, I’d leave. I told her that from the start.”

“But do you want to leave?” Jungkook asked, eyes sharp now.

And that’s where Taehyung faltered. The silence that followed was louder than anything he could’ve said.

“Every time I see her, I think maybe… I could stay. Be better. Fix it. And then I remember how badly I hurt her. I don’t deserve to be there. Not as her partner. Not as anything more than what I already am.”

Jungkook’s voice was quieter now. “But you still love her?”

Taehyung didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

It was getting late, and the apartment was dim, only lit by the soft flicker of the TV. A show played quietly in the background, long past the part you'd been watching. You were curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs, one hand resting on your round belly as you drifted in and out of sleep.

All sudden, the front door opened with a quiet click.

Taehyung stepped inside, the scent of sandalwood and cold rain trailing behind him. The moment his presence filled the room, the baby kicked. A firm, sudden nudge beneath your hand, like it recognised him. You stirred, eyes fluttering open just as he froze in the doorway.

“You’re still up?” he asked gently, surprise laced in his voice.

“Not really. Just… resting,” you murmured, voice thick with sleep.

He set his bag down carefully and walked over, his eyes sweeping across your face, the tissues on the table, the untouched water glass.

“You should’ve gone to bed.”

You shrugged weakly. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He crouched beside you, concern softening his features.

“Everything okay?”

You nodded at first, then paused. “I need to talk to you.”

Something flickered in his expression. A subtle shift, like he’d been bracing for this but he only nodded and sat on the edge of the couch. Leaving a space between you that felt heavier than silence.

You blinked at the screen, the noise suddenly too loud, and fumbled around the cushions for the remote. Your fingers finally brushed against it and you paused the show, the silence that followed landing heavier than expected.

You took a breath. “I need you to be honest with me.”

His expression flickered. “About what?”

“About what happens after the baby’s born.” The words hung there, fragile and heavy.

Taehyung dropped his gaze, staring at his hands like they held the answer.

“I meant what I said before.” He murmured.

“I’ll be there for you until the birth. Then… I think it’s better if I go.”

“Why?” You asked, eyes burning. “Why do you think you have to leave?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just swallowed hard.

“Because I already failed you once. More than once. I can’t promise I won’t mess up again.”

You looked at him, voice unsteady. “You’ve been here. Every single day. You’ve held me together when I couldn’t do it myself. So why now? Why are you pulling away?”

His eyes finally met yours, full of ache and longing and something else that looked like guilt.

“Because I’m scared that staying… will only hurt you more.” He continued. Taehyung closed his eyes, as if the pain of hearing that was physical.

He reached out, almost without thinking. His fingers brushed against yours. “If I stay, I’ll want everything. And I’m not sure I deserve that anymore.”

You felt the weight of everything between you, the ache, the fear, the fragile hope.

But instead of arguing, you simply whispered, “Okay.”

You didn’t pull your hand away.

You just sat there, heart fractured, the silence thick with what was left unsaid. Because deep down, you both knew this wasn’t just about walking away.

It was about love.

And whether something bruised and weathered could still be enough to stay.

The cap and gown still hung on the hook behind the door. Graduation had passed in a whirlwind. The applause, the flashing cameras, and dozens of eyes watching you with quiet awe. Strangers and friends alike, all caught in the moment of your achievement. Your Bachelor of Communications, now a neatly printed certificate tucked away, felt both real and surreal.

Your parents had been there, their pride shining through tears and warm embraces. Nari had brought flowers, her eyeliner already smudged from smiling too much, gripping your hand like she understood the journey it took to get here.

And Taehyung, he’d been in the crowd too. You spotted him right away, standing apart but never taking his eyes off you.

He looked proud, and sad.

And something else you couldn’t quite name.

You didn’t ask him to come, but he showed up anyway. He’d even taken some time off work to be there. You spotted him right away, standing apart but never taking his eyes off you.

The Final Stretch:

You were due any day now.

You caught Taehyung staring at you again across the kitchen that evening. Eyes dark and unreadable, fingers idly tracing the rim of his glass. He did that a lot lately. Watched you like you were something he didn’t quite know how to hold anymore.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You said softly. Not quite meeting his gaze.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re already saying goodbye.”

The silence that followed was deafening. He stood there, and then slowly came around the counter and crouched beside you. His hand went instinctively to your belly, his thumb brushing lightly over the fabric of your dress.

“You’ve carried so much,” he murmured.

You looked down at him, at the man who had broken your heart and still somehow managed to patch the pieces back together without realising it.

Neither of you said it aloud, but you both knew. When the baby comes, things will change, and he'll leave.

The silence between you was heavy, filled with all the words you didn’t say.

“I wish it could be different,” he finally whispered, forehead resting against your belly.

“Me too,” you said quietly, your voice cracking.

The air left your lungs because that was the thing. Taehyung still loved you, and deep down you still loved him too.

But love hadn’t been enough before, and now it felt too fragile to believe in again.

So you didn’t answer.

You just let him rest his forehead against your belly again, both of you sitting in that quiet ache of almost.

Taehyung's POV:

He had made a promise to himself. Don’t complicate things. Don’t ask her to forgive everything just because you finally got your shit together. Be there for the baby. Then go.

But it was getting harder.

He watched you move through the apartment like the air around you belonged to you now. Like she wasn’t the same girl he met at seventeen. Like she had grown, even when he hadn’t deserved to witness it.

And he hated that he might have to miss what came next.

He spent nights in the studio trying to distract himself. Working on tracks. Throwing himself into production. Pretending that if he just made enough music, it would drown out the ache of walking away from something he’d die to keep.

But then she’d laugh at something dumb. Or press his hand to her stomach when the baby rolled. Or just look at him like maybe she still saw him the way she used to.

And he’d crumble a little more inside. The due date was just around the corner, and he knew what he had to do.

But knowing didn’t make it any easier.

Your POV:

Taehyung’s parents had invited you both over for a quiet dinner. It had become a bit of a routine lately. Check-ins disguised as casual meals, where every conversation somehow circled back to the baby.

They asked how you were feeling, if you were sleeping okay, if you needed anything. There were smiles, light laughter, even moments of warmth. On the surface, it all looked supportive. But underneath, you could still feel it, the thin layer of distance that never quite dissolved.

They hadn’t taken the news well at first. It had taken time. More than you were willing to admit, for them to come around to the idea that you were keeping the baby. They never said it outright, but the hesitations were there. In the early phone calls. In the way his mother blinked too slowly when you first said the word “ours.”

Still, they supported Taehyung being there. His role in all of this was never questioned. If anything, they encouraged it. Made space for him to show up, to learn, to be present.

But deep down, you could see it. The way their eyes lingered on your belly when they thought you weren’t looking. The way his mother brought little things “just in case". A handmade blanket, tiny socks, books she swore were Taehyung’s favorite as a baby. Their words were cautious, but their actions whispered something louder:

They wanted to be a part of their grandchild’s life.

Even if they didn’t quite know how to be a part of yours yet.

Tonight was supposed to be a night of joy.

But everything changed in a heartbeat.

You’d tried to focus on the small talk around the dinner table. Taehyung was by your side, his hand gently resting on your round belly, giving you quiet assurances in between bites. You tried to focus on him, to block out the growing discomfort in your lower back, the subtle tightening of your stomach. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t felt before. A few Braxton Hicks contractions here and there but tonight, there was a difference, and it hits you.

The first real contraction.

It came out of nowhere. A sharp, cramping pain that made you gasp and clutch the edge of your chair.

“Are you okay?” Taehyung asked immediately. His voice low, his eyes flicking between you and his parents.

You nodded, but the discomfort only deepened. The pressure in your abdomen mounting, almost unbearable.

“I think it’s happening." You whispered, trying to keep calm, but panic was starting to rise in your chest. You could feel the tension building, the unmistakable rhythm of labor starting.

Taehyung’s parents, thankfully understood. They had been through this themselves. His mother was already up, grabbing your coat and your purse, ushering you towards the door.

“Don’t worry, honey." His mother said. Her voice gentle but firm.

“Everything will be okay.”

“Let’s go to your parents’ house." Taehyung said. His tone filled with urgency. His dad tossed him the keys and Taehyung's other hand quickly found yours, squeezing it tight as if grounding you in this moment.

The ride back to your parents’ house was a blur. You hardly remember getting into the car, only the contractions intensifying, each one longer and more frequent than the last.

Once at your parents’ house, you could hardly keep your composure. Your dad helped you get your hospital bag together while Taehyung hovered nearby, pacing with nervous energy. Hands twitching at his sides, not knowing quite what to do but wanting so desperately to be of help. Your mom was calm, though you could see the worry flickering behind her steady gaze. She kept telling you to breathe, to slow down, to stay calm but the pain was sharp, and the anticipation was crushing.

In the middle of the chaos, Taehyung suddenly stopped moving and pulled out his phone. “I’m calling the midwife,” he said, already dialling.

“Hi—yes, it’s us. She’s in labor. We’re heading to the hospital now.” His voice was tight but focused.

You could hear the midwife’s calm, reassuring tone on the other end, though the words blurred into the background behind the ache in your body and the pounding in your chest. Taehyung nodded along quickly, repeating bits of what she was saying, trying to remember everything.

“Okay. Yes. I’ll keep you updated. We’ll meet you there.”

He ended the call and turned to you, his eyes wide but steady.

“She’ll meet us at the hospital. She said to keep breathing and that everything’s going to be okay.”

You nodded, tears springing to your eyes. Not from fear, but from how hard he was trying to be what you needed in that moment.

Finally, you were in the car again, heading to the hospital.

And this time, it was really happening.

The hospital room was dimly lit, bathed in the soft glow of overhead lights and the steady rhythm of monitor beeps. The sterile scent of antiseptic hung in the air, sharp and clean, as if the whole room were holding its breath.

You were lying on the bed, a sheen of sweat gathering along your forehead, your gown sticking to your back. The IV in your arm tugged every time you shifted, and the monitors at your side tracked the baby’s heartbeat and the intensity of each contraction. Each getting louder, closer and stronger.

Grace, your midwife, stood on one side of the bed, calm and steady as ever. She had been with you since the moment you arrived. Her voice low, her hands sure, guiding you through the pain with a quiet strength.

“You’re doing well,” she said, checking the monitor and glancing at the growing pattern of contractions.

“The baby’s doing great, and you’re almost fully dilated.”

On the other side of the bed sat your mom, dabbing your face gently with a cool cloth. She’d been calm but there was tension in the way she held her breath every time you winced.

“Just breathe, sweetheart,” she whispered. “I’ve got you.”

Taehyung hovered close by, his fingers interlaced tightly with yours. He hadn’t let go since the ride to the hospital, but you could feel the tremble in his hand now, the way his knuckles turned white. He was pale, nervous, his other hand twitching at his side as if unsure what to do with himself. You’d never seen him like this.

Every few minutes, he glanced anxiously toward Grace, then the door, then to you.

Dr. Kim finally entered the room with quiet authority, clipboard in hand.

“Let’s check progress,” she said, snapping on gloves. “We’re getting close. Just a little more.”

You caught Taehyung looking at you, his mind clearly all over the place. In his eyes, you saw something real. Like you were both delicate and strong at the same time, breaking and growing all at once.

However, for you, it was agony. Sweat clinging to your temples, your breath ragged. But to him, you looked more beautiful than ever. He was completely and overwhelmingly in awe of you.

Taehyung's POV:

Beneath the awe and admiration Taehyung felt. There was a deeper ache that gnawed at him, it was the guilt and sadness tangled together inside his chest. He told himself it would be easier this way, that you deserved someone who could be there fully, without hesitation or regret. But none of it made the pain any less sharp.

Now, standing there watching you labor, hearing you cry out in pain while your mother gently wiped your forehead and Grace offered quiet encouragement, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

He felt like a coward.

Your fingers tightened around his as another contraction ripped through you, your body arching with the effort.

“I can’t,” you whispered, your voice raw and fragile.

“I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can,” Taehyung said, dropping to his knees beside you, his own voice cracking.

“You’re… you’re so strong. I’ve never seen anything like this. You’re doing amazing.”

You turned your head, locking eyes with him for a brief moment, searching his face. Maybe for reassurance, maybe for connection, maybe for a future he wasn’t sure he could offer. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

He hated himself for it.

Your mother noticed the shift, leaning in with a soft but firm tone.

“Taehyung. She needs you here. All of you.”

He nodded slowly, swallowing hard. “I’m here,” he said, though his chest was tight with doubt.

“I promise.”

Grace stepped forward, reading the monitor. “Okay. It’s time. On the next contraction, I need you to push.”

Dr. Kim moved to the foot of the bed, nodding to the team.

“We’re ready.”

You braced yourself. Months of change, uncertainty, love, loss, and hope all crashing into this single moment.

Taehyung held your hand with both of his, fingers trembling as he whispered, “You’ve got this. We’re so close.”

As you began to push, he felt you inside him in a way that went beyond the physical. Like you were part of him, breaking and building something new from within. His heart split in two. One part stayed with you, filled with awe and love, wanting desperately to be the man you deserved.

The other part was already slipping away, heavy with guilt and fear, knowing that once your baby arrived, his time with you would be ending.

He watched you give everything you had, fighting through the pain with fierce determination. He watched your mother support you, Grace and Dr. Kim move with focused and care.

Because this moment. The birth of his daughter. Your child was the beginning of everything for you, and quietly, the end for him.

The day had started just like any other, except it was anything but. The night prior and early morning had been filled with exhaustion, and a deep aching emptiness. The air around him felt too thick to breathe, his mind too clouded to think straight.

He hadn’t left the hospital the entire time. He stayed by your side, watching you. Watching the baby. His baby. The one he had been so terrified to hold, to care for.

But in the quiet moments, as he watched you hold her. Your exhaustion mingled with a quiet joy that only came from bringing new life into the world, something inside him shifted.

He couldn’t leave.

Not now.

Not after everything he’d seen in those hours. Not after feeling the weight of the love you had for him, despite everything. You had been through labor and childbirth alone.

When Taehyung returned from filling out the paperwork, the hospital hallways felt quieter than before. Muted by the weight of everything that had just happened.

He pushed open the door gently, careful not to wake you.

You were asleep, your face soft and serene, the exhaustion of labor finally giving way to rest. The sterile white light of the room was dimmed now, casting a peaceful hue across your features.

Your mum had left not long before he got back. Your dad had come to pick her up. He’d wanted to see the baby too, and the way his face lit up when he did was something Taehyung would never forget. Your mum had whispered to you while you dozed, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I’ll be back soon, darling,” she said. “Just going home to make sure everything’s settled… and cook you something proper.”

Your hand rested instinctively around the small bundle on your chest.

There she was.

Wrapped snugly in a blanket, tiny fingers curled near her cheek—Nora.

Taehyung paused in the doorway, breath catching in his throat. You had mentioned the name once, months ago, almost offhandedly. It was your grandmother’s name. Someone you had spoken about fondly. He remembered the way your eyes lit up when you said it. The softness in your voice.

So when the nurse asked earlier, he didn’t hesitate.

“Nora,” he had written. And it felt right.

Now, standing at the edge of the bed, he swore the whole room felt heavier with meaning. The tiniest sounds from her. Those little breaths, the occasional sleepy sigh. It sounded like a quiet symphony to his ears. A new kind of music. One he wasn’t sure he deserved to hear, but couldn’t pull away from.

He moved closer, pulled a chair beside the bed, and sat down slowly, not wanting to disturb either of you. For a moment, he just watched you and her. This quiet moment suspended in time and for a moment, he didn’t think about what came next. He just let himself exist in the space between you both.

And there it was, the realisation that hit him harder than any of his previous doubts.

He was a father.

He wasn’t just the man who made a mistake and walked away. He wasn’t the one who had hurt you, who had left you when you needed him most. He was the one who had a chance to make things right, who could finally be the man you deserved.

He could be better.

His fingers brushed lightly against the back of your hand, the touch gentle. A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched you stir just a little, but you didn’t wake.

He had to make this right.

He had to stay.

He couldn’t stop looking at you, his mind racing with all the things he had wanted to say. Things he had kept inside, afraid that it was too late, afraid that you would never forgive him.

Nora cooed softly, her tiny fingers curling around the fabric of your gown. A delicate sound, one that made his heart swell. It was the sound of something new and pure.

With a deep breath, Taehyung finally spoke, his voice low and unsure.

“I’m here, Y/N. For you. For her. I’m not going anywhere.”

You shifted, blinking against the dim light, and your eyes met his. For a second, there was nothing but silence between you.

And then, your expression softened as you looked at him, almost as if you hadn’t expected to hear those words at all.

“What... what do you mean?” You asked quietly. Your voice still rough but your gaze was steady.

“I mean I’m staying. For you. For our daughter.” He swallowed, his throat dry.

You blinked again, like you weren’t sure if you were hearing him correctly.

“But... Taehyung... You don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t have to.” His voice cracked slightly.

"But I want to. I don’t care about anything else right now. Just you. Just her."

Taehyung watched as your eyes welled with tears, the weight of his words landing in the space between you like something sacred. He could see it in the way your shoulders relaxed, the way your breath caught just slightly. Like some part of you had finally let go, finally believed him.

When you reached out and took his hand, your grip was gentle but sure. Like you were afraid it might still slip away, but brave enough to hold on anyway.

“I want that, Taehyung,” you whispered.

“I want you to stay.”

The words hit him hard, like warmth and ache colliding in his chest. For a second, he couldn't speak. He just looked at you, at everything you were. A woman that was strong and soft, scared and brave, still fighting to believe in something bigger than the past.

Slowly, he leaned forward and his hand finding your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin. It was such a small gesture, but it carried everything he couldn’t say yet. Then his gaze drifted down to the baby curled in your arms.

“She’s beautiful,” he said quietly, a breath catching in his throat. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, shaky but real.

“She’s ours,” you replied, voice thick with emotion.

And as he looked between the two of you. Your tired eyes and her perfect, sleeping face. Taehyung felt something shift inside him. He had spent so long doubting himself, terrified he would never be enough for either of you. But right here, right now, that fear didn’t hold the same power.

Because this was real. You were here. She was here.

And so was he.

Whatever came next, he wasn’t going anywhere.

Not anymore.

[mentalcurls]

This morning my Spotify threw me a curveball and made me listen to High School Musical 2 "Work this out" on my way to work and I had a Vision: the Trojans see Jean cook and decide to record a full team lipsync to Work this out complete with all the dancing, and the pan drumming, and the plates breaking, and Jean standing in the middle of it all, behind the island chopping vegetables and every now and then dodging enthusiastic dancers and glaring at them.

They post it on Youtube and it becomes a meme in 3 second flat. It gains so much popularity that USC re-posts it on their official channels as a "get to know your team" thing.

(Obviously Jeremy plays the Troy part.)

(Also obviously team lipsyncs become a trend for a while and a bunch of other teams record their own lipsync and outdo the others. The press keeps asking the Foxes if they're going to do one, again and again, until that is the feather that breaks the camel's back and breaks Kevin's media face. He gives an answer worthy of Neil's best, with Neil himself slow clapping in the background. That also becomes a meme. Jeremy calls Kevin to check in and Kevin tears him a new one while Jeremy, having ascertained Kevin is ok, keeps laughing at him.)

(This might have been subconsciously influenced by that OMGCP fic in which the team lipsyncs to Work from home)

[skitskatdacat63]

I drew all of my historical AU Sebs!!!!

In order they are(with relevant links to lore info if you are curious!!): Napoleonic Hussar Seb(x), Renaissance Muse Seb(x) and Boy King/Emperor Seb(x)

Let me know which you like best!!!

[mahitopilled]

seeing american students post about summer break everywhere like oh my goddd shut up

[trebeksfault]