#thought things were going ok but i was too caught up in all this bullshit being thrown at me

[linkedin-corp]

[miley1442111]

transfer- s.reid

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a/n: intended for fem reader, but as always imagine what you like:)))))))))

summary: how your sudden transfer forces certain feelings to the surface

pairing: spencer reid x bau! reader

warnings: none

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“It’s an executive decision Y/n, they are not asking,” Hotch sighed and you felt bile rise in your throat as the team stared in horror. You were being transferred to the Pentagon. “I know this will be an emotional time for all of us-”

“It’s not emotional, it’s a horrible idea,” Spencer said, his voice calm despite the storm raging in his mind. He wouldn’t be able to see you everyday? Bullshit. “She’s a crucial member of this team-”

“Spencer, they aren’t asking. Strauss expects her to be back in DC within the next hour,” he explained and exited the room. Everyone fell silent and Spencer raised his eyes to meet yours. You looked terrified and angry, he hadn’t seen you this angry ever.  

Not only were you one of the most vital members of the team, you were the thing that made all this shit just that small bit easier to deal with. What would he do now without your teasing jokes? How would he even want to go to work when he knew he wouldn’t see your tired smiles in the mornings? When would he remember to rest if you weren’t reminding him? 

And how would he be able to tell you he was in love with you when he didn’t see you everyday?

“I-I’ll… I’ll go get my bag,” You sighed, accepting your fate and leaving the room, Spencer trailing behind you. 

“Y/n!” He called after you. “Wait, I-I’ll come with you to grab your things,” He internally kicked himself for not thinking of something better to say. When he caught up with you outside the building, he could see the tears falling from your eyes, even in the darkness of the night. 

“I don’t want to leave,” You sniffled. “I told them I didn’t want a new position, I told them that I was h-happy here, that I want to be h-here.”

Spencer took you in his arms, letting you cry into the side of his neck. Had the circumstances been different, he would’ve over thought about the fact that you were so close to him. So close that he could smell your hair, so close that he could feel your soft skin on his, so close that he was very much enjoying the way you clung to him. 

“I mean… I don’t have any say? T-there’s so much more I wanted to do… I- I had this whole plan-”

“It’s ok,” he soothed. “You’ll do great things at the pentagon-”

“Fuck the pentagon!” You exclaimed, pushing him off of you. “I wanted to… I wanted to tell you for so long, a-and then the moment never seemed right, a-and I just assumed I-I’d lost m-my chance and I’m was sure you were already s-seeing someone so it didn’t even matter but then we g-got even closer a-and-”

Spencer’s heart was beating out of his chest, were you trying to say what he thought you were? “What are you trying to say?!” He shouted over your rambling, stopping the pacing you were doing in front of him. 

“I’m in love with you!” You shouted back. Spencer stood there, stunned, as you anxiously waited for an answer. You got one in the form of the grin on Spencer’s face. One of his hands reached out and grabbed your waist, while the other cupped your cheek, pulling you in to kiss him. His lips against yours were electric. You were relieved that he felt the same way and you were ecstatic that he kissed you.

“I’m in love with you too,” he whispered against your lips, pulling away. Your hands rooted themselves in his hair as he kissed you again, only pulling away when the rest of the team cheered from the door. 

You two were met with congratulations and cheers, happy that the two of you had finally told each other how you felt. 

You walked onto the airstrip, Spencer’s hand in yours, not even scared for your new role. 

You had Spencer, what else did you need?

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, marvel, top gun, challengers, obx+)

[juleswritesstuff]

Holy hands, will they make me a sinner ?

You seem to have a little secret. Regulus figures you out immediately.

regulus black x fem!reader

warnings: smut

His voice brings you back from the apparent state of trance you had unconsciously fallen into. Blinking rapidly, you regain perception of the walls of your dorm room surrounding you and the myriad of books scattered across your bed.  You shift your gaze to his gray eyes and you find them already set on you.

“If you bore holes in them I won't be able to finish my essay, Y/n” 

“Pardon ?” your voice has a confused edge that almost makes him chuckle.

“My hands” he explains, his tone as neutral as ever “You were staring”

Your eyes go a little wide, like you had been caught stealing the last chocolate frog of the stash. You swallow, trying to compose yourself as best as you can.

“I was doing no such thing” you declare, a bit too solemn and defensive to be the truth.

Regulus pins you with an unimpressed look, his left brow arching just enough to tell you that he isn't buying any of your bullshit.

A defeated sigh leaves your lips. 

It is no use hiding something from Regulus Black. He will find out one way or another, and you got caught right with your hands in the jar.

“Ok, fine” you admit, lifting your shoulders to make it seem like the most casual thing ever “I was looking at your hands”

Regulus’ expression doesn't change, but the glint of amusement flashing in his eyes doesn't go unnoticed.

“More like ogling, I would say” even his tone has a playful bite to it.

You like this side of him. The Regulus who is able to relax a bit and let go when he is surrounded by the people he is comfortable with.

But carefree Regulus also means menace Regulus apparently.

“I wasn't ogling” you grumble, rolling your eyes “I was just admiring them” 

His eyebrows furrow.

“Why ?” he questions, intrigued.

Why, he has the courage to ask.

Well the answer is that Regulus Black has the prettiest, hottest, most gorgeous hands you have ever laid eyes on.

They are elegant, slender, the little veins underneath the pale skin gracing your eyes with their presence with every movement he makes, every flex of his muscles, producing a delicious design that hypnotizes you. 

They are smooth but decorated by light calluses, undoubtedly caused by Quidditch, that create a divine contrast with his otherwise untainted skin.

His fingers are long, lean, clad in silver rings that make your mouth water with how exquisitely sultry they make him look.

And suddenly, but not surprisingly, you find yourself imagining what it would feel like to have those hands on you, exploring every inch of your body, dancing on your skin like flames dance in the cold hair of the night. The cool metal of his rings being at odds with your scorching hot skin, making you hiss as his skilled fingers create a burning path over your body, traveling everywhere. Your legs, your thighs, your hips, chest, shoulders and stopping right at your neck, wrapping delicately, reverentially around it. Worshipping the sensitive skin, feeling the erratic pulse of your heart and-

“You’re doing it again” his words interrupt your spiraling for the second time that day, sounding dry and apathetic as always, but a hint of teasing twinkles in the otherwise coldness of his eyes.

You really hope Regulus didn't learn to cast a Legilimes in his free time, otherwise you were well and truly screwed.

“You have nice hands, that’s all” you manage to say without giving away all the less than pure thoughts flooding your mind in that moment. “From an artist point of view, obviously” you add, shrugging, trying to make everything less than obvious.

Which is both extremely annoying and criminally hot in your humble opinion.

Bringing up your passion for drawing is futile and you know it. You know he knows the drooling over his hands isn't for the sake of art. You can't fool Regulus Black, not even if you try to.

But pretending is the only thing you can do to not feel embarrassed, holding onto the hope that maybe he doesn’t have you all figured out.

“So you’re saying that your interest is purely artistic ?” he asks, cocking a brow as his head tilts slightly.

There’s something in his voice, in his eyes, that you can’t quite figure.

Your forehead scrunches in confusion.

“Yes, of course” you answer, trying to hide the stutter of your voice as best you can.

You are pretty sure he knows that you aren’t telling the truth, he somehow always knows. He reads you like an open book, and, for someone who doesn’t engage in showing his emotions too often, he is pretty damn good at reading the ones of others. 

So why that question ? You almost expected him to tell you to cut it out and get back to study because that essay isn’t gonna finish itself.

“Would you like to draw them ?” he offers.

This is new, unexpected. 

Interesting.

Your eyes go wide in surprise.

Wait.

What ?

You never brought up the suggestion either. He is a reserved guy and he loathes having eyes on him, so you figured he would’ve never accepted even if you did.

Never, in all the years you have known each other, had he offered to model for you. 

He knew about you having an interest in arts, he even saw a couple of your drawings and paintings and he often asked about them and how they were coming up, but he never asked to be in them.

That never stopped you from sketching him from afar, though. Those gorgeous features deserve to be portrayed.

But why the sudden proposition ?

You aren’t stupid. Regulus might know you like the back of his hand, but you could say the same about him. And this, whatever this might be, is not like him at all. 

Regulus never does anything for nothing, there is always an explanation, a reason to his every move. You think even his breaths are perfectly calculated.

But this time the why gets lost on you, and the harder you try to understand the less it all makes sense.

“I can see the gears in your brain twinsting and turning,” he says, calm and composed as ever.

He is sitting on your bed, the quill he was using to write his Charms paper now abandoned next to him. His back is perfectly straight, leaning on the headbord to support his weight. The raven strands of his hair create soft waves that frame his face in a delicate and enchanting way. His lips are stretched in a rare, playful smile, curling up slightly on the left side.

He is beautiful. Dangerously so.

“It’s just-” you are confused, there is no doubt about that, but most of all you are intrigued “You have never asked me before” you point out.

“I know” 

That’s his only answer. Simple, concise. Enigmatic. 

Just like him.

“So why now ?” 

The question escapes your lips before you can stop it. You can’t help it, curiosity is consuming you, and the possibility of learning a new part of him makes your skin tingle with excitement.

“Why not ?” he retorts “There is a first time for everything, right ? So why not now ?”

There is still that glint of something in his eyes. You don’t know what it is, you don’t think you would be able to give it a name even if you knew, but it's there, and it’s strong.

“I’ll get my supplies then” 

You slowly get up from the bed, feeling your heart in your throat in a mix of anticipation and nervousness, and you retrieve your album and a pencil.

When you sit back down you notice that the books have been neatly stacked in a small pile next to your bed and all the papers, previously scattered all over your sheets, are nowhere to be seen.

“Figured we might need the space” he says, like he read your mind.

“Thank you”, you give him a small smile before opening your album, turning the pages one by one, until you find a blank sheet, ready to be filled.

“Where do you need me ?” 

The way he utters those words with the utmost nonchalance, apparently unaware of the effect they have on you, nearly sends you into cardiac arrest.

Everywhere, you think, before mentally smacking yourself.

You need to get a grip, for Merlin’s sake.

“Right there is fine,” you manage to say without your voice faltering “just angle your hands towards me, so the light is right”

He does as he is told, adjusting his position and moving his hands a bit to the right, veins in full display and rings shining under the warm rays of the sunset seeping through the window.

“That’s good” you state, your mouth suddenly dry.

He is a bit far, and the light doesn’t hit as perfectly as you had expected, but you’ll work with it. If squinting your eyes a bit is the price to maintain your mental sanity then so be it.

Then you start drawing. The only sound filling the room is the gentle scraping of your pencil as your eyes focus on the white sheet in front of you, your gaze shifting to his hands ever so often to take a peek at them, like you haven't learnt every detail by heart.

You can feel his eyes on you. You try not to focus on it, but the shivers those pools of the color of a summer storm send down your spine are difficult to ignore.

“You’re straining your eyes” he blurts out of the blue. And it’s not a question.

Observant as always.

“It’s fine,” you assure him, your gaze never leaving the paper “this distance is good for perspective” 

“But it’s a problem for the lighting”

Those words make you lift your head up, your brows knotted in a frown.

How does he-

“And what would you know about the lighting ?” you eye him suspiciously, a small grin curving your lips.

“I guess all your rambles about that muggle painter weren’t in vain” he says, and there’s a cheekiness in his tone that is completely new to you “Caravaggio, right ?”

Your grin turns into a full smile.

“Right,” you nod, your eyes widening a little “I can’t believe you actually remember”

“I remember a lot of things,” he remarks defensively.

“Only those important enough to you” the teasing in your voice is light, playful, as your pencil glides on the sheet swiftly, adding strokes and shadows here and there.

There’s a beat of silence.

One second. Two. Three. And then-

“Exactly”

Your hand halts every movement, freezing completely. You look up from your paper and you find his gaze already on you.

Suddenly you are lost. Your heart is beating so fast you wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually able to hear it.

The implications of that single word swirl in your brain, creating a hurracane of thoughts that almost gives you whiplash. 

He doesn’t give you the time to even think properly about what he may have just suggested, because he decides to speak again. 

“I can come closer if you need me to” his voice is lower, deeper, oozing with that same something he’s had in his eyes since he caught you staring at his heavenly hands.

You want to scream. You have no idea of what the hell is going on and it’s confusing the shit out of you.

You know he is asking for that forsaken drawing you still have in your lap, but it somehow doesn’t feel like it. The electricity in the room is so high it feels like an open cable sending sparks flying everywhere, setting the air on fire. 

The only coherent thought in your brain is a chorus of yes, please and nothing else.

So you cave.

“You can,” you manage to say, because the necessity to protect your sanity might be strong, but the need to have him close to you is apparently stronger “if you want to”

His gaze is so penetrating you feel it in your soul, consuming you from the inside out and setting your whole body ablaze.

It’s compelling, hypnotizing even. 

“This is not about what I want, Y/n”

Oh, the way those words leave his perfect lips, making shudders erupt all over your body should be studied. 

Your world shifts on its axes and it starts spinning ten times faster. Because he knows. 

He knows. 

“We're not talking about art anymore, are we ?” you ask, swallowing soundly as your breath gets stuck in your throat.

“Were we ever talking about that in the first place ?” his question is rhetorical. He doesn’t need an answer because he already knows it. He figured you out, like he always does.

So what was the point in pretending anymore ?

“No,” you admit “I guess we weren't” your trambling hands move the paper out of the way.

There is a spark in his eyes. It’s foreign, thrilling even, and it makes your skin prickle in the best way.

Suddenly he moves. He shifts his weight forward, approaching you slowly. The veins in his arms and hands bulging from the pressure and knocking the air out of your lungs in the process.

“So tell me” he whispers, crawling to you bit by bit, like a hunter advancing towards his prey. He seems to be calm, poised, totally in control of his body as he comes closer and closer.

It’s his eyes that betray him. 

They have always been the window to his feelings, talking more than his mouth even did. And right now they are burning, engulfed by a heat that makes your legs weak and your heart roar. The realization hits you, a rush of adrenaline running through your veins.

They are hungry.

“Tell you what ?” you stutter, unable to regain a hold of yourself. You can’t breathe, your palms are sweaty, you feel hot all over and he is close, so damn close.

He stops right in front of you, mere inches between your faces and a tension so heavy you can cut it with a butter knife.

“What you want” the warmth of his breath delicately caresses your skin. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, his eyes following the movement intently almost making you squirm under his gaze.

“You seem to know what I want” you say breathlessly, your body heating up in response to his proximity. 

Those hands, protagonists of some of the filthiest dreams you’ve ever had, are right next to you. Close enough to graze the skin of your thighs with his knuckles, but never indulging in the act. Like he is teasing you, waiting for you to beg for it. You shift your gaze to them and you swallow hard, the need to feel them on you growing stronger every second that passes. 

You are about to fucking combust.

His silver eyes are still fixed on you, intense and magnetic, as they follow your line of sight.

“I won't move a muscle unless you tell me to, Y/n” 

Those words, mouthed so close to your lips and mixed with the low, velvet-like husk of his voice, make your legs clench and your stomach churn in the best way possible.

You can’t take it anymore.

You move forward, abandoning your position on the bed to place your legs on each side of his hips, almost straddling him. Your hands are on his shoulders, helping you to keep your balance, feeling the lean muscles underneath the shirt as you hover over him.

His head tilts up, eyes sharp and hot and glued to yours. You hear him suppress a hiss as your thighs brush his hips. His arms are still next to him, hands gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turn white.

He is restraining himself. From touching you. 

Your thoughts are clouded, your mind hazy and completely out of it. The only thing you want right now is for him to place those perfect fucking hands on you and never stop.

“Do it” your voice is so weak and breathy it’s a miracle he hears you.

“Do what” he mouths, so close to your lips it makes your head spin.

You’re needy, desperate even, but you don’t care. You don’t have time to think right now. You want to feel.

“Touch me” you beg.

“Where ?” he sounds just as gone as you are, and you finally crumble.

“Everywhere”

It’s nothing more than a whisper but it shakes the both of you like an earthquake. 

You meet in the middle, your lips colliding and completely knocking the breath out of you.

His mouth is sinful, greedy, chasing yours with a hunger that almost makes you melt on the spot. You get lost in the softness of it, in the ungodly brush of your tongues making you moan breathlessly. You bite and nibble and lick and he follows you, matching the languid pace just as eagerly, as your hands tangle in his hair, pulling at the black strands delicately. The low groan that escapes his throat sends goosebumps all over you.

You are so focused on the filthy dance of your mouths that you almost miss the agonizingly slow graze of his fingers on the exposed flesh of your legs, gently tracing a path on your thighs.

The metal of his rings meets the hotness of your skin and you hiss.

Oh, it’s just as delicious as you imagined.

“Ah- fuck” you pant, millimeters away from him. Your head feels light, dizzy. 

You feel like you’re dreaming, lost in your own fantasies.

But his hands running up and down your thighs feel too fucking good to be just a product of your imagination. They travel slowly, excruciatingly so, making you lose your mind with every new inch of skin they explore. 

Until they sneak under your skirt, reaching your hips to gently knead the supple skin, applying enough force to bring you forward.

“Sit” It feels more like a plea than an order but-

Holy shit.

A gasp escapes your mouth before you can stop it.

Every cell of your body threatens to explode as he pushes your weight on him all the way, making you straddlle him completely.

“Fucking finally” he curses, more to himself than to you, like he has been waiting for this moment his whole life.

His eyes are dark, fogged up by lust and need, and it's the lewdest thing you have ever witnessed.

“I have never seen you like this” you whisper directly on his lips, nibbling on the plush flesh.

He smirks, smirks for Salazar's sake, as his fingers move, reprising their mission to make you lose every ounce of control.

“It seems you were busy looking at something else”

His thumbs rub the skin of your inner thigh in a hypnotizing manner, sending bolts of electricity down your spine.

You whimper as they get closer and closer to your core, your grip on the junction between his neck and shoulder tightening in pleasure.

But he must take it as some sort of sign of discomfort because he halts suddenly.

“Want me to stop ?” he asks, his eyes searching for yours, the veiled concern in them making your heart stutter.

“Don’t you even dare” you say, a mere breath away from him before you dive in, capturing his mouth again.

It's messy and dirty and you get addicted to his taste way too quickly.

His hands move up, massaging your skin at every caress of your tongues, until they reach the hem of your panties.

He moves away from your lips for a quick moment, and he looks at you.

The silent ‘Can I ?’ written in his eyes almost makes you swoon.

You nod your head.

“I need words, chérie” he whispers sensually.

The combination of his right hand so close to your most sensitive spot, his left one traveling up to your hip, holding it tightly, posessivly, and that fucking pet name almost make you cum on the spot.

“Yes” you practically beg.

Only then he resprises his journey of exquisit torture along your body.

“Shit-” you quiver as he kisses your neck, branding the sensitive skin with his lips and teeth. His hands move, fingers skilled and sinful as they reach your heat.

You mewl as they make contact with the light material of your underwear.

“Jesus Christ” hs hisses a groan “you’re soaked”

A series of choked out whimpers leaves your lips as he strokes his fingers over your panties, feeling your wetness through the fabric.

“Fuck- Reg” a moan ripples from your lips when his thumb brushes your clit tentativley, making you gasp. Your hands fly to his hair, lightly pulling the soft strands with trembling fingers.

“Look at you, all horny and needy over my hands” his voice is tantalizing but you can hear the breathlessness, the strain in it. He is affected by this just as much as you are and it makes you go almost feral.

“Please” you breathe. You don’t even know what you’re begging for. Your mind is too hazy, too fogged up by lust and need to have a single coherent thought in it.

But he sure does know, because his digits move your panties to the side, just enough to glide over your slickness, making contact with the tender skin of your folds and spreading your wetness all over.

Finally, finally the hands consuming your every thought are on you, right where you had craved and imagined them the most.

You arch your back in ecstasy, biting your lip.

And it’s when his middle finger eases inside of you, slowly breaching your velvety walls, that you lose it completely.

The air gets knocked out of your lungs, liquid fire engulfs every cell of your body, every nerve and muscle consumed by pleasure.

“Regulus-” it’s the only thing you manage to mewl as he slides in and out of you in a rhythm so sensual and sultry it makes you melt. The cold metal of his ring meets the warm, sensitive skin of your cunt with every prod, creating a delicious contrast.

You never break eye contact, your gazes locked together drinking in every little detail, every wave of bliss swimming in them.

“Is this what you fantasized about, love ?” he pants right on your lips “All the times I caught you staring, is this what you were imagining my hands doing ? Fucking you senseless, feeling how tight and needy you are ?”

His words are as dirty as his eyes as he slides another finger into you, making you inhale sharply and stretching you out so good you could almost cry. 

“Ohmygod” you moan as your hips start moving to their own accord, meeting the prodding of his fingers eagerly, riding his hand like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.

“But this is not the only fantasy you have, right chérie ?” he asks, going faster, harder, pumping mercilessly and leaving you a blubbering mess.

His left hand leaves its place on your hip and moves up, grazing the soft skin of your stomach, the supple and tender flesh of your breasts, the natural dip of your collarbones, worshipping every inch of your skin in their path, until they reach their goal.

“I bet you thought about this too, didn't you ?” 

You were always sure this would remain just one of your daydreams, the kind of dirty thought that should remain in your mind and nowhere else. But Regulus Black was Regulus Black and reading you was one of his favorite hobbies.

It still comes as a surprise, though, when he delicately wraps his hand around your throat, resting it there, feeling every pulse of your heart, every pump of your blood and adorning your neck with the prettiest fucking necklace you could ever ask for.

“Yes” it’s nothing more than a breath, but it sends him into a frenzy. His right thumb rubs your clit relentlessly, adding to the unforgiving pace of his fingers sliding in and out of you with lewd, wet squelches. The whimpers coming out of your mouth are raw, filthy and downright pornographic as you feel your orgasm approaching.

Your head is in the clouds, a hundred thousands miles from earth as the only thing you can focus on is the feeling of his hands on you, fucking you to your release as the one on your neck squeezes the faintest bit, enough to almost send you over the edge.

His left thumb leaves its place right above your jugular, moving upwards to caress your jawline, your cheek and, lastly, your lips.

You can feel the digit caressing the red, bitten flesh, brushing it with reverence, worshiping it with his whole being. His heated gaze is bewitched, entranced by your mouth parting, welcoming him past your lips, and lightly grazing the pad with your teeth, before enveloping it wholly, letting him feed you the taste of his finger.

“Bloody fucking hell, Y/n” he rasps, voice low and dangerously close to pleading as you suck on his thumb like it's the tastiest treat you have ever put in your mouth.

The hand on your cunt speeds its pace, pounding in and out of you like a fucking machine, the vibrations on your little bundle of nerves getting more intense by the second, sending you over the edge in a mess of moans and whimpers.

“Reg, fuck, I'm-”

You reach your release with his name on your lips, back arched and hips rolling to help you ride your orgasm on those unholy fingers of his. 

Your vision is blurred, your brain fuzzy and overwhelmed by bliss as you slowly come back to your senses.

It takes you a few seconds to regain control of your body and mind, but when you do you are graced with a vision you are sure you will never forget.

The ever composed and collected Regulus Black is right in front of you with his expression contorted in pure lust, eyes bleary and unfocused, hair tousled by your hands relentlessly stroking them, lips red and glossy from the heated kisses, tie loose, crooked and shirt crumpled.

He is a mess.

The hottest mess you have ever seen.

You're still not fully out of your head space when he speaks again.

“You're loud” he grins, his tone teasing but still a little raspy.

“You're filthy” you bite back weakly, your voice hoarse and strained. 

“Maybe” he says “but I think I'm not the only one” 

The fingers that have been inside of you not even a moment ago are now in front of you, coated and glistening with your essence.

He slowly brings them closer to your mouth, and you don't even think twice before eagerly welcoming them inside it.

The taste of yourself mixes with the metallic tinge of his rings as you suck leisurely, restraining a moan before he takes them out with a wet pop.

“Sale fille” he groans in french, lowly and right on your parted lips, before he dives in an alluring kiss. (Dirty girl)

It's slower than all the others you shared, but it's deeper, sensual and it almost gets you worked up all over again.

His tongue meets yours in a erotic dance and when the taste of your very essence coats his tastebuds a moan rumbles in his throat.

“You're sweet” he murmurs, nibbling on your lower lip gently.

“Want me to find out if you're sweet, too ?” You offer with a teasing smile on your lips . His hands might be your biggest fantasy, but they sure as hell are not the only part of him you fantasize about.

“Eager, are we ?” he questions playfully, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear “Not today, chérie”

The little pet name creates butterflies in your stomach and makes your cheeks warm, but doesn't hide your disappointment. 

“Why ?” you ask, your hands going to fiddle with his tie.

“As I told you, this is not about what I want” he explains, his arms circling you in a loose hug “and I don't know if you noticed, but it's pretty late”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, and only then you realize that the sun has already set and the room would be totally surrounded by darkness if it wasn't for the few magic candles lighting up automatically when twilight hits.

Your eyes widen.

“How long have we been here for ?” your voice has a panicked hint to it, making Regulus laugh.

“I'm pretty sure dinner is getting served right now” he says nonchalantly, like it's the most normal thing ever to engage in sexual activities with your best friend and miss supper because of it.

“Which might be for the best,” he adds.

“Why ?” you ask in genuine confusion.

“Because I’m the only one lucky enough to hear your dirty little sounds” he says with a shit-eating grin before kissing you again.

Thank you for reading 💖

[stevesbipanic]

@steddiemas Day 16: "Can you give me one more night, please?"

Steve had done this song and dance before. Maybe not with another guy before, but plenty of girls. They'd smile at his flirty lines, curl their hair between their fingers, laugh at his dumb jokes. They'd say yes to a date, maybe even stay modest the first time. He'd buy them dinner, take them dancing, cuddle and watch a movie. Eventually they'd get what they were looking for, them in Steve's bed.

Only Nancy had ever stayed overnight. Most girls were out the door before Steve had even had his pants back on. To everyone they'd say how good of a lay he was, might even call him again for a round two. They didn't stay for him though, they stayed for Steve Harrington. Even after his fall from grace, they'd say with a sense of pride that they'd slept with him.

He had hoped Eddie would be different, and in some ways he was. Eddie would stay over sometimes, if they'd smoked too much before bed to drive home safely. He never spouted around town that he'd gotten Steve into bed, not that it would be safe to do so. He never let Steve pay when they went out, but he also never called them dates.

Steve knew where it was heading, where they all headed. But he couldn't help himself. He was falling in love with Eddie despite his knowledge that it'd end in heartbreak. Soon Eddie would grow tired of what Steve could give him and he'd see he was bullshit just like Nancy had. He'd just thought he'd have more time.

"I can't do this anymore."

Steve broke their kiss at his words, no, it couldn't be ending now, please.

"What?"

Eddie pushed Steve back slightly, Steve missed his warmth already.

"I can't keep doing this with you, Steve."

"But, but we're having fun right? You're still having fun right?"

Eddie shook his head and Steve could feel his heart breaking in two, he'd waited for this but it didn't hurt any less. He only hoped Eddie would be gentle, that they still be friends.

"No, Steve, it'll just end up hurting."

But it was already hurting, couldn't Eddie see that. Steve felt tears prickle in his eyes.

"Can you give me one more night please?"

Maybe just one more night to let Steve's heart say goodbye to the first love that had felt right in his life. One more night and Steve could try and learn to be ok without Eddie, a fact he knew would be impossible. Eddie's face was pinched in pain.

"Stevie."

The nickname felt like a dagger through Steve's heart, why did Eddie have to say it like it hurt him.

"Stevie, I can't just be the guy you call when you're feeling lonely, I deserve to have something real and so do you."

Wasn't what they had real, wasn't any of it real?

"You were the first thing I'd ever had that felt real, Eds."

The shock was clear on Eddie's face, that had not been the response he'd been expecting.

"What do you mean, Steve?"

What else could he mean, what he felt for Eddie was real even if Eddie just saw it as bullshit.

"I–."

The words get caught in his throat, but when would he ever get another chance to say them.

"I love you, Eddie, so much, and I know you don't feel the same way and you're going to leave like everyone else did but I need you to know I never thought what we had wasn't real."

Tears had begun to pool on the edge of Eddie's eyes as he slowly took Steve's face in his hands. Steve tried to commit the feeling to memory.

"Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me. I thought you were just, I don't know, waiting until something better came along."

Steve pushed his face into Eddie's hands and a smile began to creep onto his face.

"Oh, Eds, don't think anyone could be better than you."

The kiss Eddie gave him may have been the realest thing he'd ever felt and later, when he'd awake to Eddie still by his side, his warmth chasing away the winter air, well nothing felt better than that.

Ao3

[myslutwritings]

BLINKS. Ok so laikkkk. You know how Muzan has that fake wife? IMAGINE LIKE um reader or whatever the fuck it’s called?! FINDING OUT and she’s just standing infront of Muzan Like 🧍🏻‍♀️yo wtf. DOES THIS MAKE SENSE

YES THIS MAKES SENSE! thank you for requesting😭😭

➤ Fem!Reader finding out about Muzan’s fake wife

➤ SFW headcanons (not proof read)

Muzan kibutsuji x Fem!reader

•

•

•

warnings: kinda angsty also reader does not take shit from men (💀💀)

Man oh man.

Livid would be an understatement..

Muzan knows you can be scary.

After all, you’re one of those women who doesn’t take shit from men, you’re fiercely independent, you petrify the demon king himself with your audacious and captivating personality.

It was one of the things that attracted this walking menace towards you in the first place.

Now, Muzan does love you, so do not overthink and assume he actually loves his little false wife.

Oh, he couldn’t give a shit about her. But fake wife or not, you’d still consider it cheating.

In hindsight, he knew it was wrong but that didn’t stop him.

Anyway, that thought of you finding out his secret always loomed in the back of his mind.

However, he brushes this off, foolishly thinking this isn’t a humongous deal and you wouldn’t find out.

My god, he couldn’t have been more wrong. It’s embarrassing really..

No one knows how on god mother earth you found out but that night when Muzan returns home you confront him about it immediately. You aren’t going to sugar coat this for him nor pretend like you didn’t catch him in the act? pfft, only pussies do that.

But to be blunt you probably found out because you caught him kissing her in the entertainment district

“Oh, welcome home, dear! Now, do you mind telling me about your second wife? Or am i the second wife?”

Muzan’s response is silence at first. That being the dead giveaway.

You’re honestly just confused, like he already has you?? Why does he need to have this lil side hoe??

Deep down, you’re honestly hurt but you do a pretty damn good job at covering it up with that sarcastic smile of yours.

Meanwhile, Muzan denies it.

This only adds more fuel to the fire.

LIKE YOU CAN FEEL YOIR BLOOD BOILING.

No way he just lied to your face.

I mean, yeah, Muzan is a malicious demon at the end of the day so of course his interpretation on the human population is going to be fucked up on so many levels.

Thinks all humans are naive and incredibly stupid.

Besides you of course.

But the man isn’t a brainless amateur either he knows you’re different from the rest. Another reason why he actually has romantic feelings towards you.

Anyway, since you’re a girl boss, you obviously call him out on his bullshit lies and it provokes full blown fight between y’all.

You try to fight back tears, all these feelings are too much for you to bare.

You’re honestly crying because of how damn frustrating it is.

It’s also important to add Muzan has never witnessed you cry.

Feels guilty now but doesn’t dare to express it.

You manage to soothe your nerves down and continuously debunk the situation.

In the end, you have him backed up into a corner.

Then you proceed to reveal how you found out.

Muzan realizes that he can no longer escape this situation nor lie to you any longer.

Admitting his defeat, he confesses how he obtains a fake wife but doesn’t even feel anything towards her.

Muzan reassures you that he only has eyes for you, only feels these feelings towards you, assures you that he and his fake wife have nothing serious and that he only uses her to blend in with humanity.

You hear him out, listening to his explanation but then ask why he couldn’t just use you to blend in??

His response is that he desires to keep you safe and secured, if the slayers knew you were his weak point they’d definitely kill you so there is his explanation for cheating.

Bro just doesn’t want to lose you. Witnessing your murder would be his demise.

You calm down entirely, however, you aren’t 100% okay with him having a fake wife.

So you just give him an out.

Like, “it’s either her or me” you express in a very sharp tone to show how serious you are about this.

Of course he chooses you, after all, he always would.

Dislikes how you posses this much control over him. Your dominate nature doesn’t sit right with him.

But kudos to you!! He murdered divorced said wife and now there are no more issues. But you still are upset with him even awhile after that. Yeah, you aren’t going to move past it too quickly and because he’s such a manipulative narcissist your guard is always up around him.

But i mean who can blame you? You’re dating the demon king after all.

THIS WAS LOW-KEY ENJOYABLE TO WRITE!? i hope it meets your expectations and i hope this made sense! I’m working on multiple requests right now but this one was easier and faster to write due to it only being one character.

[zoesmp4]

STUPID “love makes you stupid.” carl grimes x walsh!reader

tags: angst, some fluff, violence, blood, 6x9

a/n: omg this req was SO good i am sosososo sorry i couldn’t execute it properly 😭 im not so proud of this one, but i hope its ok!! 

you and carl grimes had been best friends ever since you could walk. you both met when your dad brought you to "bring your kid to work day" down at the station. the scent of coffee and the echo of footsteps filled the air.

it started to seem extremely boring, until a stranger approached you and your dad. you saw a little boy standing next to him, and felt a little less lonely. the man recognized you, though you had no idea who he was. "hi there y/n, this is carl." he introduced.

ever since then, you guys were inseparable. you and carl had a bond which was special, it was like no other. you could be yourself around him, and you could tell carl felt the same. the ease, the comfort, like you didn't have to pretend to be anyone else when you were together.

as expected, seeing him for the first time after the apocalypse started unleashed a unique wave of relief within you. you vividly recall the both of you making eye contact and running toward each other. you hugged each other tightly, as if you'd been separated for years.

"i was so scared!" you said, clutching your doll in your hand. "you don't need to be scared anymore," he reassured. "i'm here to protect you." carl loved to be your knight in shining armor, even when you were young.

through all the dark days, and as you both grew older, you two had always been there for each other. no matter whatever crap life threw at you, you guys stuck together. walker got too close to you? dead.

"i would never let anything happen to you. don't worry." he would always say. he was your closest friend, your ride or die. growing up was hard enough during the apocalypse, but having each other made it bearable.

however, as time passed, you started to feel a different way towards him. you started to feel as if things wouldn't be so bad if you guys were more than friends. actually, it was starting to seem like it was all you could dream of.

you thought it was just a one time thing, but you were dumb to think so. you often found yourself blushing at the thought of him, and when he had caught you daydreaming, let's just say he was curious.

"come on, why can't you just tell me who you like?" he asked, growing more agitated by the second. "shut up, i don't like anyone." you said, rolling your eyes playfully. "bullshit, tell me who it is." he said, looking you in the eye, a grin plastered onto his pretty face.

"nope!" you replied, popping the "p."

carl grimes had stolen your heart, and there was no doubt about it. you knew he had you wrapped around his finger, it was quite obvious when you would stress whenever he got the tiniest injury.

"calm down, it's just a cut." "do you ever shut up?" you would say, reaching for the bandaids on the top shelves of your room. "it's really not as bad as it looks." you knew he was telling the truth, it was never that serious. however, you being you, you couldn't help but worry. 

but now? now it was actually serious. too serious. you felt the panic start to sink in the second you saw ron, a vengeful look on his face, pointing a gun in rick's direction. you froze when you realized who was in standing front of him. it was carl. your carl.

"you." ron said. your heart pounded against your ribs. your breaths were shallow and rapid, as a wave of terror gripped you. surely he wouldn't actually shoot. right? so many possibilities were going through your head at once, it was the worst thing you ever experienced.

fortunately, michonne came in a flash. you jumped slightly when her katana pierced through ron's skin. atleast it was all over now though. rick was alright. carl was alright.

or so you thought.

BANG!

his stupid fucking finger slipped. 

all of your negative thoughts came flooding back into your mind the moment the sound of the gunshot hit your eardrums. however, among all of your worries, there was one most prominent. where did the bullet go?

your eyes darted around before your gaze landed on carl. he had his head down, and when he looked up, it felt as if all the air in your lungs had been sucked out of your body. "dad?" he whimpered out.

he had been shot. in the head. directly into his eyesocket. the amount of blood flowing down his face made you sick to your stomach. it was only a matter of seconds before his body went limp and fell to the ground.

you never knew it was possible to feel this angry. there was no way in hell that just happened, and you couldn't do anything to stop it. it should've been you.

your facial expression contorted into one showing pure horror and anxiety. your eyes widened, tears at the rim, threatening to fall out. you breathed heavily, as you felt anguish and rage twist within you. rick lifted carl into his arms and carried him. that was your cue to pull out your knife.

you and michonne ran in front of rick and carl, killing walkers one by one. you were going ballistic, slashing every walker you possibly could, grunts escaping your mouth with every stab. you were going on a rampage, you weren't even thinking, you were just so enraged. how could you have let that happen to him?

blood splattered across your face, but you barely even noticed. hot tears streamed down your cheeks. each drop carried the weight of frustration and sorrow, their salty taste bitter on your lips. your body started to grow tired, but you kept pushing. dozens of walkers were laying on the ground.

now, the focus was getting carl help. and that's what you wanted. but you just couldn't stop. you were about to plunge your bloody knife into yet another walker, but michonne caught your arm in mid-air.

"that's enough." she said. she noticed how your chest rose and fell at a rapid pace, and the way you looked like you wanted to watch the world burn.

she took the knife from your grasp before putting her hand around your shoulder for a few seconds to calm you down. "we have to hurry." she continued to kill every walker in her sight, one by one. you didn't care that your body hurt like hell, you didn't care about all the blood splattered onto you, you didn't care that you were exhausted.

the only thing you cared about was carl. would he be okay? was this the end? were you gonna lose your other half? your heart ached. you weren't even gonna get to tell him how you felt about him.

after what seemed like hours of running and fighting, you found yourself laying down in the infirmary bed next to carl's. he'd been patched up before you. he was sleeping, and you were glad he was getting the rest he needed.

but every time you looked at him, your chest tightened. he should've never even have to be here. he should've never had to go through that, ever.

daryl had a chair pulled up next to your bed. he was like a father figure to you after shane died. he sighed, wiping your now crimson splattered arms with a wet rag to clean off the blood. "y' used the knife i gave you?" he said, not looking up from your arm. "yeah, it's the best i have."

the silence in the room was so loud. it's not that he was disappointed in you, he was proud you were able to defend yourself. it was the fact that you could've died and you still kept pushing that made him so quiet. he cared about you a lot, and he knew you didn't have to fight so hard, especially at your age.

"why'd you do that?" he asks, finally making eye contact with you. you let out a breath before opening your mouth to speak, "love makes you stupid."

it felt nice, to finally be able to talk to someone about your feelings for the blue eyed boy. after all, you were never gonna tell him, so atleast you could tell someone. "damn right it does." he replied, before lighty ruffling your hair. 

"get some sleep, okay kiddo?" daryl said, wiping the last of the blood off your arms. "yeah, jus- please don't te-" "i won't tell a soul." he cut you off, already knowing what you were gonna ask of him. "thanks." you said, smiling.

little did you know, daryl wasn't the only person who heard your late night confession. a "sleeping" carl stirred in his bed, now facing the wall in the opposite direction of you. perhaps it was the exhaustion getting to you, but you could've sworn you heard a light chuckle.

[effy-writes]

Hii can I request Blitzø hcs with a fem S/O who always says she's ok and fine even when she's not, like she's sensitive but knows people are rude and shitty, so she keeps all her feelings in and doesn't speak up bc she doesn't wanna seem like a burden? Tyy!

ofc!! sorry this took so long

~~~~

blitz x f! reader who feels like a burden hc’s

• growing up you’ve always been told to keep your feelings to yourself because it’s a “hush hush” type thing (mainly because of your parents)

• even before you and blitz started dating you always kept things buried inside. you’re a typical yapper, but go completely non verbal whenever you’re going through some things

• blitz being blitz, he didn’t pay attention to it at first until he made a joke one day that may or may not made you cry in the bathroom

“thank satan you stopped talking, you were driving me crazy.”

you abruptly left the meeting room and locked yourself in the bathroom, leaving blitz to himself like, “wtf did i even say”

• later on he asked you about it, being like “did i say something orrr” and you told him you were already having a shitty day and that’s when the dots connected. “well if you ever need to spill your heart out you can.”

• you appreciated it, but didn’t want to feel like a burden to him since he already has his problems.

• years later, you two started a serious relationship. he trusted you already, so he wasn’t afraid to talk to you about his stuff (you had to pesterize him for it, but he did managed to tell you things)

• you on the other hand was still afraid of being a burden to him. you didn’t want him to think that you’re too much for him to handle so you kept things to yourself.

• blitz still caught on that you’re not being honest about your feelings, so he would ask you allll the time.

“i’m fine, okay? im fine. don’t worry about me.”

“just tell me what’s going on.”

“i’m just tired.”

“bullshit and you know it.”

•after arguing back and forth you finally told him what’s been bothering you, which consisted of people being shitty to you in the past and how their words still affect you to this day, your own thoughts haunting you, anxiety, etc.

• blitz understood 100% about what you were getting at and he told you that he won’t ever think of you as a burden and that you shouldn’t be afraid to talk to him about things

“but you already have your own stuff to deal with, i don’t want to be added on your plate.”

“and you were always there when i needed you and i want to be there for you.”

• he comforted you as many times as he could. whenever you’re not talking or slouching in chairs he’ll take your hand into his wherever you guys are at. in a meeting and sees that you’re not okay? he’ll sit beside of you and hold your hand while continuing to talk. ESPECIALLY when you guys are laying down on the couch or bed he’ll just flat out hold you, even if you don’t tell him what’s going on because eventually you’ll tell him.

• “want me to fuck those feelings out?”

“let’s role play, me being the therapist and you’re my patient. let’s sigmund freud up this bitch!”

• he really cares about you but has a weird way of saying it

• he offered an idea to where if you really don’t want to talk to him about when you’re sad/upset/any other negative emotions, you can lay your head on his lap facing his stomach so he’ll know if you’re not okay.

• you liked that idea, and the first time you followed through with it blitz kinda got confused but then was like “oh shit, she’s not okay”

you would bury your head against his stomach, wanting to get as close to him as possible. blitz combed your hair with his fingers and slightly purred, “ready to talk about?”

if you mumble no then he’ll just keep massaging your scalp or rub your back, but if you do start talking then he’s all ears and will try to make you sit up so he can hear you better, but if you still wanna bury your head against him then he’ll still try his best to hear you. “sorry say that again?…one more time…you’re not gonna believe this but you’re gonna have to repeat that.”

• long story short, blitz wants you to be up and honest as you can to him. he hates it when you don’t talk about what’s going on with you because he cares so much and doesn’t want to lose you. he’ll always reassure you that you’re not a burden just by speaking up on how you’re feeling

[extranenas]

well the Olympics just ended, but what do you think about a kylian mbappe scenario where he's dating someone who is an athlete who is competing in the Olympics

miss let down

pairing: kylian mbappe x fem!reader

genre: angst to fluff

plot: you always wanted to be the greatest- the girl who always wanted to be the best of the best- but when you finally get to prove yourself to the world in track- you failed miserably in your eyes…

extra: again for the sake of the story, reader was born in the us just so we have an idea of like what team she is and such (citizen ship wise yk actual ethnicity not specified) lowkey i had to make up some french players for the storyline😭😭😭

masterlist

august 3rd 2024 would be the death of you. the biggest day in your entire life and what you worked up to for… 4 years…? spending that time for a good 10 seconds of your life that meant too much.

something that would determine if you really what you thought you were.

you were going against huge names- your teammate sha’carri richardson who was the fastest woman in the world and the famous jamaican runners who were known for dominating that iconic red and white track.

and then there was just you- a girl who managed to pass through the trials and made the 2024 olympic team. crazy thing how the biggest celebrator of your accomplishment was your boyfriend though.

throwing a small party for you and everything because of making the team while usually its you celebrating him cause of well… hes probably becoming the best right now winning soccers biggest trophy at only 18, getting into probably one of the biggest- if not the hugest club in the world, and breaking records on records.

and you were over here competing against his national teams track team before finals on his countries on soil (which you hope he didnt take too personally)

you dont even really remember how you two met cause it was such a blur. it went by so fast!

“everyone knows that track is so much easier than football ky. its like… common knowledge! i mean come on- they just run around in circles for like… 20 seconds or whatever.”

“dont say that man… i mean if you tried it would you actually… complete it?”

“nah.”

“then why- ok dude.”

a then 19 year old kylian got up from the pitch he sat on. they currently were preparing for the upcoming world cup the year following and of course, an ambitious kylian wanted to touch that golden trophy.

he walked around the pitch and saw the players he seen every day just talking or laying down after a day of rough practice in that summer heat france was known for- other than pastries and such. he soon stopped by and went onto his phone in which one of his younger friends went up to him and did what kylian did.

“did you hear? about that united states team being in france right now.”

“what, what for?”

“some track tour or whatever- look.”

he soon shoved the phone in kylians hand which showed the news headline saying what he said.

“where are they training?”

“here dude!”

“what? here? they cant find somewhere else or…”

“no. theyre gonna be on the whole other side though so im guessing its fine man. i dont know.”

kylians eyebrow raised- sharing a centre with a track team? that doesnt make much sense.

-

the day came where the track runners finally arrived and got to the field where they started condition. of course those two being the curious men they were- decided they wanted to go see the team. they constantly bickered on whether or not they should go- even with the reminder if they did and they got caught snooping- 250 push ups would be needed for about 2 days.

and they still went.

they saw the team and were somewhat disappointed on what they saw.

“wheres all the running? this is bullshit dude! i thought they would like- i dont know run cause theyre apparently the best or whatever… those damn americ-“

kylian immediately stopped him and went quiet.

“i hear someone man. shut up real quick.”

they nodded and turned around to see a girl in the track uniform standing and looking at them.

“who are you guys?”

that day was probably one of the greatest ever for kylian- meeting the love of his life cause he got caught snooping. now he watched her grow into a professional and is now running on the track to win a gold medal.

he sat in the crowd with a shirt of her face on it with a huge smile- waiting for the signal so the girls could start running

finally it rung out- and all you saw was 11 girls blasting off and running for their damn life for a 100m race. one of them being immediately spotted cause of her hair kylian helped choose out before she left.

she ran for her life- going ahead of nieta before running behind again- soon regaining speed and going back up.

8 seconds past by until 9 hit… then 10. finally someone hit first. and it wasnt ___… she still ran and got 3rd place. stopping as she crossed the finish line with a frown as tears welled up in her eyes.

‘bronze? i got bronze?’

kylian noticed- immediately keeping it in mind.

she walked out of the stadium after receiving that bronze medal- headphones in with a defeated look before getting tackled by kylian.

“amour! you did so good!”

“stop ky… im tired.”

“but its true! you did great- i mean bronze at your first olympics? who else can do that?”

“carri’ got silver on hers kylian! its her first too! i wanted gold not bronze- i worked too hard for just bronze!”

kylians face fell as he got quiet, immediately hugging her.

“you still did great amour- i don’t understand why you feel other wise. i get losing is hard but its inevitable! you need loses to win ___ trust me.”

“yea you say that cause you lost the world cup two years ago even though you won it already.”

“youre missing the point here.”

“sorry.”

“look all im saying is that you shouldnt be so hard on yourself cause you didnt get what you exactly wanted- you still ran- you still placed- be proud ___! you worked too hard for this.”

she looked at him with a small smile, finally taking in her win.

“do you want to wear it then?”

“yes- definitely.”

she laughed as she placed the medal around his neck- finding solace in this situation.

[ultimate-shipper-trash-blog]

Pt 2.

"Another call at the Munson bar," Max sounds bored.

Steve sighs and tries not to let the smile be too obvious on his lips.

"Let's go dingus I wanna see this guy in person." Robin claps him on the back and rushes past him.

He couldn't NOT tell her. The cute bartender who was obviously flirting with him. It didn't matter that he was his type because nothing was ever going to happen. Steve was going to remain professional and if this guy was gonna be a regular he had to keep his distance. If he didn't put the distance there first Eddie would leave eventually and he can't take anymore hurt. He was protecting his heart and doing Eddie a favor, no one stays when they see the real Steve.

The door swings open and Steve walks in observing the area. Eddie looks bored behind the bar. Some guy is yelling at him a little too close for comfort. Steve can see each spit molecule flying. He has a glass in his hand and looks like he's going to throw it at Eddie.

Eddie gives him a look like 'can you believe this guy'

"Took you long enough Stevie, I was starting to think you didn't care."

"I care the normal professional amount I'd say"

"Oh how you wound me. I thought we had something"

"And I thought I told you not to make this a reoccurring thing."

Eddie gestures to the man still screaming.

"Him? He means nothing to me babe. Promise."

Robin let's out a chuckle next to him. He tries not to appear too smitten. He never thought he'd end up a cop and he never thought he'd drag Robin into it either but she wanted to stay with him. He can't imagine why. He loves her so much.

The day Hopper picked him up in his cruiser was the day his life changed. He was caught drunk by the quarry throwing beer cans at trees. Hop had taken one look at him and the rest of his belongings in his car and that was the end. He was freshly 18, no longer homeless, and living with the Chief and his daughter.

It inspired Steve to become a good cop like Hop and when Robin finally finished freaking out over learning he was living in his car she was on board too. She used her language skills to speak and relate to citizens and was good with people in general. Together they were unstoppable and won the election in a landslide.

"What seems to be the problem officer?" Angry man tries to look innocent but yet again...glass throwing, yelling, not a good look.

"Well it seems like you're about to throw something at this distinguished patron. That wouldn't be the case would it?"

Eddie shoots him a wicked grin as the angry man frowns.

"Distinguished?" He mouths quietly. Spark in his eyes. Robin laughs at him and Steve mouths a little "shut up"

"This assholes trying to cut me off officer! I'm perfectly fine." He stumbles back a bit.

"Oh that's not all Johnny. Did you wanna tell the Chief what else you've been doing?"

"So what I'm not allowed to voice an opinion?! It's what I believe!"

Eddie swings his head to the side and gives Robin a stern look.

"He was making my customers uncomfortable by shouting stupid religious and political bullshit. I don't care if he's not 'drunk enough' he's cut off and not welcome in my bar."

Robin gives him a nod in understanding. Steve's skin bristles.

"Alright sir step outside with me-" Robin starts to walk towards him.

"You can't do this! I have rights!"

"Yeah and this is his property he can ask you to leave."

"No! I won't take orders from a bitch!" He throws the glass at Eddie and starts to run in the opposite direction. Steve is on him in a second handcuffing him.

"Officer Buckley is an officer of the law and you will respect her as such. Don't be such a dirtbag. Apologize"

He presses Johnny a little further into the wall until his face is smooshed.

"Alright! Alright! I'm sorry! Now let me go!"

"I don't think so pal." Robin takes him from Steve and leads him to the cruiser.

"Check on your boy, I got him," she whispers.

Steve runs to Eddie's side, grabbing his face searching for injuries.

"Are you ok? Did he hit you?"

Eddie's face is a bashful pink. He's standing in a pile of broken glass and giggling.

"I'm fine Stevie, I know when to duck," he puts his hand on top of Steve's still on his face. "I'm ok sweetheart I have big strong officer to protect me..."

Steve leans in a little, eyes narrowing on Eddie's lips.

"Oh you're here too."

Moment broken. Steve leans back while Eddie cackles.

"Sorry Stevie, Buckley kicks ass!"

Steve can't bring himself to be mad he's just focusing on how Eddie's bright smile makes him feel. Shit. Plus he's right. Rob's amazing.

"You'll be ok?"

"Yeah babe I'll be fine. Thanks for cleaning up my mess."

Steve taps his badge. "It's what I'm here for. Plus you didn't do anything wrong. You protected your customers, you stood for what you believe is right..."

Eddie looks at him in awe. The moment is quiet between them until Eddie clears his throat. "You uh, you better head out if here and help Buckley with that guy."

"Right. Yeah, I'll um. I'll see you around?"

"Yeah Chief, whenever you want."

"Hopefully not under these circumstances again. I won't need to answer every call."

He would. He absolutely would. Every call.

---

Steve POV YAY

Please leave comments they make me want to write! :)

I also am posting this on ao3!

[freakshowtwopointoh]

In Which Jordan and Marie are Forced To Figure It Out

*takes place at some point in episode 7 or 8 probably?? Idk lmao*

"Jordan, wait!" Marie ran after them, praying she can keep her balance on the slippery tile. They're a master of the speed walk, and she's panting heavily when she finally reaches them. "Is the infamous Jordan Li leaving a party early?"

"Back off, Moreau. Leave me alone." Their voice was cold.

"Did I do something to upset you?" Marie's brows furrowed. They hadn't been so gruff with her in a long time.

"Don't be ridiculous. The world doesn't revolve around you. Now back off." And with that, they stormed away, and she was too stunned to do anything but stare at their disappearing back.

For the entire morning of classes, Marie kept her phone off. She pretended like it was just to keep her focus on schoolwork, but in reality, she didn't know what she wanted or how she wanted it. Did she want Jordan to call? She was both disappointed and pleased she didn't hear from them while she slept. On the one hand, she was so angry at them disappearing during the stupid GodU event, forcing Marie to cover for them. On the other hand, she was glad Jordan at least stuck to their dickery rather than immediately rescinding to her. Usually, her doe eyes got her anything from Stone Cold Jordan Li, but last night was weird. And it wasn't their parents -- they hadn't even been at the event! It was just some stupid potential student thing. So it wasn't that ridiculous at all that she assumed she had done something. To be quite honest, she hadn't been paying the best attention to Jordan during the event, but there were donors to schmooze, shots to sneak, and Emma had a minor crisis with her dress that she had to help with. Once Marie had stitched the strap back on and fixed the hole in the back, she caught sight of Jordan leaving the ballroom.

She was bent over a textbook, trying to focus on what it was saying about the connection between emotion and power, when someone interrupted her.

"Moreau! I've been tryin to call you all day." Jordan looked like they had been working out all day, sweaty and stunning.

"My phone's been off. Studying." She gestured at the papers and books strewn about. They didn't seem quite appeased. "Look, if you've come to apologize about last night, don't. You have every right to have your own shit going on. I shouldn't have pried." She put her head back down, hoping that would be the end of it.

If she was really honest with herself, she was terrified about what Jordan was going to say. Her relationship with them was 99% vibes, and she had no experience with this shit. She was terrified of being their girlfriend, terrified they wouldn't want her to be their girlfriend. Terrified that she was both too much and not enough for Jordan. If she wanted to keep things casual, she had to stay casual. They were cool, right? Yeah, they had made out at basically every free moment, and they had walked around campus holding hands and talking for hours. Every thing about this, about Jordan, was intoxicating for her, and she was so fucking scared that it was all going to slip through her fingers, or explode in her face. Ironic, considering the advice she had given them just a little while ago.

"You deserve an explanation. Let's walk and talk, ok?"

Fuck. She had no reason to say no, so she packed up her stuff slowly. She wished her hands weren't so shaky. Everything made it into her bag, and she got up to walk with Jordan.

Once they got far enough away from other students, Jordan turned to Marie.

"I'm going to talk. I need you to listen." Marie nodded, trying to keep her face smooth and unaffected. "I lied last night. It was about you. It's always about you these days, Moreau. I thought I could control it, that I could be immune to you. And it's more than just you being a pretty girl. I've been with pretty girls and pretty boys and no one mixes me up like you do. I thought I was over the bullshit from my exes and my parents and that I could keep that all away from you, you beautiful, kind, amazing girl. And being with you last night, I was..." they paused. "I was jealous. And I realized, I can't do it anymore! I can't keep you away anymore, I can't watch you pull away from me anymore." They ran their fingers through their bob, not daring to look at Marie directly yet. They took a deep breath. "I am not easy to love, or to be with. I am not a boy all the time. I am not a girl all the time. I am still a messy, broken kid trying to pick up the pieces and become the person I'm going to be. I have a short temper, and I do a decent amount of drugs. And I definitely didn't expect you to come storming into my life. I wasn't ready for you, for these feelings, for this. I don't know if we will be good together, I don't know if this is going to blow up in my face but I can't do this half way anymore. I want more. I want you by my side at every event. I want everyone to know that we're together. I want to protect you when things go south, and I want to celebrate all of your successes. I want you, now and always. Will you be my partner?" They finally looked at Marie, who had tears streaming down her face.

She kissed them, gripping their jacket with an intensity that would make you think they were heading off to battle. She tasted of tears and coffee and everything they never knew they wanted. They couldn't have dreamed Marie Moreau if they tried. When they finally pulled away, she smiled impishly at them, seemingly pleased to be slightly taller this time.

"That was a yes, by the way. I want all of you, Jordan Li. Exactly as you are." And then she kissed them again, and nothing else mattered. "We are good together. I know it. I didn't see it until now, but I see it. We'll end up an old married couple, you'll see."

[wolfinshipclothing]

Rewatching Avatar: the last Airbender (WITH MY MOM!)

Ok so i convinced my mom to watch ATLA with me. she's 68, but with the mind (and the looks mind you) of a 40y/o woman who loves cartoons, so it was quite the blast.

i'll go Book by Book and tell you guys her very amusing (and accurate) thoughts.

So here i go.

MY MOM WATCHES ATLA: BOOK I

-first coment is when she saw Zuko and it was like "ooh, he's hot!" and i was like "he's a teenager" and she was like "he's also not real" so point for her.

-IMMEDIATELY after learning the Avatar has to learn the four elements, she already knew Zuko was going to chance sides and teach Firebending to Aang.

-First episodes were a bit slow but she caught onto it because of the fantasy elements. she had a bit of a hard time picking the whole bending thing. not the bending itself, but the fact that not everyone who lives in the earth kingdom or wears green is an earthbender, but she catch it up quickly.

-she pointed out that Aang's airbending is not very consistent. "Why doesn't the Avatar just blow them away?! he did so in that other episode" and well, its kinda true.

-when it was Haru's episode i said "you're gonna like him". and when Haru showed up she was "ooooh i like him! not as much as the prince tho."

-"you realize its the brother (sokka) who things all the plans, right? he's the brains" she said, halfway through Book One. she's a smart one my mom.

-"when is the earth master going to appear?" "aang has to learn waterbending first" "well but he could appear!" "just wait, mom -.-"

-she is dumbfounded and amazed at the creatures of the Avatar World. "i don't know what the heck that is but is cute/ugly as fuck".

-"this girl Katara is gonna end up with the prince right? Fire and water, perfect match" oh mom. you're in for a dissapointment.

-in the fortune teller episode "but aang's too young for katara! he's twelve right? and she's, fifteen or something?" and i said "yeah, it was kind of a thing at the time" and she said "makes no sense. also, the Avatar is like a superhero. those people... belong to the world, you know? they cant be with anyone". she's pretty wise my mom.

-"I LIKE JET!" then Jet tries to kill the old man "i dont like Jet" then Jet tries to blow up the dam "i hate Jet."

-She thinks Uncle Iroh is the best, specially after he was kidnapping. "He sure knows how to fight" she said. "he's a bit of a goof chummy guy but he gives good advice" (remember this is still Book One).

-she was mindblowed by "the storm". "poor prince. no wonder he's always so mad. still, i like his scar. it looks like a flame."

and i was like "what?" and i realized that, yes, zuko scar sometimes looks like a flame when looked from the side. my mom had to point that out to me T.T.

-"WHY IS KATARA PRACTICING WITH THE WATER IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT-?! AND SHE SCREAMING TOO! SHE'S GONNA BE FOUND!" right you are, mom.

-after roku's episode "poor aang. he's gonna do all that, learn all the elements, fight that son of a bitch, and all that before summer? its too much" :(

-during Bato's episode "nah. nah, you can't do that Aang, come on." "he feels left out" "but that scrolls is important right? its about the guys father!" right she was. also she didn't stop laughing at Uncle Iroh flirting with the bounty hunter girl.

-she was having none of Master Pakku bullshit. when katara confronted him she was "hell yeah, show him whats good!" and when we found out master pakku was gran gran old 'boyfriend' "OH, now he's gonna teach her just because she's the grandaughter of his lost love. right. -.-" and i was laughing mad because dont we all know its the truth? XD

-when she saw the fire nation armada she was like "O.O HOW DO YOU EVEN BEAT THAT?"

-and when zuko ship exploded "noooooo! dont kill my princeee, he's so preety! :("

-she doesn't know why sokka felt in love so fast with Yue, and neither do I.

-she got repeatidely frustrated by Aang not taking serious the situations that should be serious, but she shrugged it as "he's twelve".

-at the end of the season, when we see Azula for the first time i told her "i cant BEGIN to tell you how long we had to wait to see how this turned out, because season two took forever to air (we live in latino america)". she was just as excited as i was and wanted to see more.

-as a personal note, i watched this series as a kid and its wild to rewatch it as an adult becase, like, you can apreaciate how well paced and well thought everything is, and how the characters actions NOW reflect what we will learn from them later.

All in all , my mom liked it Book I A LOT, and we waited little in watching book II.

its late so i'll talk more about the other books in other posts. let me know my thoughts so i can pass them onto my mom! :D

[writing-house-of-m]

Don't Leave

Natasha x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Mention of death

Word count: 2069

Summary: Natasha comes back injured from a mission and you can't take it anymore.

A/N: This is from a prompt sent in which you can find here. Thank you to @alexia-redacted for reading it through to find my typos haha

T/N: мой маленький русский = my little Russian

"You can't do things like that Nat!"

You had been at it for the past 5 minutes. Pacing the same route. "Anything could have happened, and don't give me that bullshit 'you were in control' because anything from that building could have fallen and trapped you."

You loved her and admired her skills out on the field but she still needed to be careful. You knew you were overreacting but you were scared. You were scared and didn't know what to do other than shout out your frustrations.

Originally, when Natasha saw where this was going, she was going to stop you. Instead she allowed you to voice your thoughts while she took a seat on the edge of your shared bed.

She could see you were coming from a place of care and would rather you say it aloud instead of keeping it in. But it's part of the job. You both know this.

You were getting more and more like this after Natasha would show up injured.

Her impulse to jump back into a burning building wasn't unwarranted. She saved someone from meeting their end.

It's her job at the end of the day. And she knew you would have done the same.

Your voice lowered as you came to a standstill and looked at her, "Nat, I can't-" She meets your eyes and can see your glazed over look.

Natasha knew she would be in tears too if this was the other way round. She's never cared for anyone the way she cares about you.

She stands, making her way to you, "Y/n, you know what it's like out there. Split second decisions," She reaches for your hand to stop you from biting your nails.

You know exactly what Nat is talking about, being in that position is something you've done countless times. You look down at your joined hands and wrap your fingers around her wrist just to feel her pulse.

She's still here.

She's still here, because she's good at her job.

Natasha continues. "That adrenaline rush. You get caught up in the moment because it's what we do. It's the right thing to do."

She brings one of her hands up, running her fingers through your hair, in an attempt to calm you down.

You close your eyes and whisper, "I know. It's just," you take a breath, "I'm scared of losing you." You sniffle, a tear falls as you continue speaking your thoughts. "When I saw you get off the jet all battered and bruised and finding out about you going back into the building. I-"

You let out a sob, stopping you from voicing your deepest fear. Moving both her hands to your face she gets you to look at her as her thumbs rub over your cheeks. She wipes away your tears but they're quickly replaced by more.

She pulls you in and holds your head to her chest letting you ride this wave. You both stand there for long minutes, Nat telling you 'it's ok' and to 'let it all out' while her shirt gets soaked with your tears.

When you're able to speak again, your next words break her heart, "I can't lose you too."

She knows all about your loss and how hard it's been for you to open up to love someone again. It was common ground the two of you shared when you became friends which has blossomed into this. This love you have for each other.

You pull back to look her in the eye when you say your next words, "Maybe, after all this time, I'm not cut out for this. I don't know if I can keep doing this, baby." You furrow your brows and continue. "Where does it end? With one of us in the ground?"

The redhead is surprised by your candor, you both knew it was a possibility but neither of you have said it aloud before. Natasha says the first thing to come to mind, "Y/n, it's not going to end like that."

"You can't promise that and you know it." You say as you pull away and move to the other side of your shared room. Natasha knew you wouldn't go for it. But you were slipping through her fingers.

"Y/n/n, this is what we signed up for." She makes her way over to you, "Maybe we should take a break from all of this. Go somewhere for a little while." She says hopefully, "Just the two of us." She's desperate, she doesn't want to lose you. She can't.

You wipe your hands over your face then stare at the ground as Natasha puts her hand to your shoulder to get you to face her. You appreciate her trying but it won't be enough. You know it.

You know what you need to do and you hate it but it's for the best.

You finally turn around and look at her with red rimmed eyes.

"Natasha, I can't do this." More of your tears fall.

She wants to reach out to you.

She wants to tell you everything will be ok.

She wants to tell you that she'll always return to you.

But she knows it's not something she can guarantee.

You both have always known the harsh reality of your jobs. The only difference is that Natasha was raised in this field. It had been the only thing she had known for a long time.

Until she met you.

You, on the other hand, chose this. And you can just as easily choose to leave.

But leaving Natasha?

It will be the hardest thing you've ever done.

Natasha doesn't want this to end, she loves you with everything she has. She's never felt like this about anyone before.

Finally, the moment sinks in. The feeling is overwhelming. Knowing she was about to lose the only person she's ever loved. The only person that has ever loved her.

Tears build in her eyes. It's now your turn to console her.

You brush away her tears and press a kiss to her lips. Fully. Softly.

You pull away but only slightly, "I'm so sorry, мой маленький русский." You say as your lips graze hers.

You wrap your arms around each other taking in this moment of her body pressed against yours.

Natasha needs to make sure this is real. She needs to know this is actually happening and asks, "So, this is it then?" She speaks against your shoulder.

"I guess so, yeah." You whisper sadly.

…

When morning arrives, you quietly pack a small bag of necessities. You can collect the rest of your things another time.

Natasha was still asleep, exhausted after returning from her mission and from your final words the previous night.

The redhead insisted you stay the night. Who would you be if you didn't give her this final wish?

Once you're done, you kiss her on the forehead, whisper "I love you," and take your leave.

If she was awake you wouldn't have been able to say goodbye.

As you try to leave the compound a voice catches your attention from behind you, "Y/n? Where are you going so early?" You can hear the confusion in his voice, "I didn't have you on any overnight missions." He says noticing your bag.

When you turn around, he sees your swollen eyes. "What happened?" His worry was clear in his voice. He would always worry about you, he saw you as his own family.

"I'm done Steve." You say sadly, "I've already sent my notice to Hill. If she hasn't already, she should see it soon."

He understands. You've spoken to him about your worries before, so he has to ask, "What about Nat?"

You can't help the tears that well up. "We spoke last night." A sad smile on your lips. "She's still asleep." You wipe a tear that is slowly making its way down your cheek.

Like you hadn't cried enough already.

He walks with you as you begin your final steps out of this place you've called home for the last six years. Four of them were by Natasha's side.

Steve tries to keep you talking, keeping the conversation light. Eventually he asks 'What's in store for your future?' It's at this moment you realise you have no idea. You always saw your future with the love of your life. But now…

"I guess I have time to figure that out." You say turning towards him.

When you make it to your car, you thank Steve for everything he's done for you. For who he has been to you.

You hug him, taking in the feeling of his muscular arms around you. You're glad he caught you leaving.

Just as the two of you separate you hear rushed footsteps getting closer.

When the figure is revealed your heart breaks all over again.

You know you can't say goodbye to her.

…

When Natasha awoke all she could think about was you.

How she didn't know how to truly live, until she met:

You.

You taught her there was more to life than a job. This job. Without you, there was nothing to look forward to.

The one constant in her life was you.

…

She slowly makes her way over, "Nat, please don't make this harder than it already is."

You were all she could remember over these past four years.

"Y/n, please don't leave."

You were all she could see in her future.

"We've already spoken about this."

You were standing here, in front of her right now.

"I can't let you leave,"

And she'll be damned if she let you go.

"Nat-"

She interrupts you before you can continue, "I can't let you leave," when she reaches you she can see the tears swimming in your eyes.

She takes in every detail of your face that she has memorised and the way you look right now. The lines between your eyebrows because of the sad look on your face. The way your nostrils flare because you're sick of crying and you want the tears to stop. The way your eyes look lighter in this morning light.

You're about to speak again but she's not done.

"Detkha, I can't let you leave," this time she finally finishes her sentence - "not without me."

You look at her bewildered.

This job has been everything to her. You never wanted her to have to choose between you and it. So you made the tough call of leaving.

"But Nat, what about all of this?" You say, talking about the Avengers and all the work she has put in over the years. More years than she has known you.

She lets out a breathy laugh. As her eyes glaze over, "It's nothing. All of it means nothing." She pulls you to her, "But you. You are everything to me and I am not letting you go."

With her final words she pulls you in for a heated kiss. Desperation clear from both of you as she wraps her arms around your neck and yours go to her waist. Pulling her impossibily close.

You hear a clearing of a throat. As you look over to Steve, remembering you had a one-man audience.

You and Natasha smile at each other and then at the man scratching the back of his head.

"So I guess we're losing two of you today, huh?" He puts his hands on his waist and drops his head. "Losing the two people I had on my side. Tony's going to love this." He says as he walks away leaving the two of you wrapped up in each other. Wide smiles on both of your faces.

You have no words for how happy you are so you do the only thing you can think of and kiss her. You pour everything you have into the kiss. It's a promise of being together today, tomorrow and every day after that.

When you break the kiss, you rest your forehead against hers. "You really waited until the last second didn't you, мой маленький русский?"

"Maybe I hit my head a little too hard on that mission." She jokes and you both laugh.

She whispers her next words as if they're a secret for you and only you,

"I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

[the-sinister-story-teller]

Stranger Things Headcanons!

A/N: There will be a mix of both SFW and NSFW, I will put tags for both so no one is confused ^v^ I had SO much fun writing this, I was giggling like a toddler the entire time!! I hope it's enjoyable!

Characters: Eddie Munson and Billy Hargrove.

Mentions: No specific gender

Eddie Munson:

SFW He may be clingy at times, but not for the reason you think. It's more of him being a tad paranoid that you might leave him for someone else.

He is SUPER affectionate. Expect kisses, hugs, and hand holding all the time! He's made is clear you're his partner and no one else's by constantly, and I mean CONSTANTLY holding your hand. This boy LOVES holding your hand! Not to mention how much he loves it when you kiss the back of his hand, it makes him feel all bubbly inside. In public he isn't too big on PDA, but definitely doesn't mind it. He's ok with hand kisses, holding hands, and small hugs, but anything like cuddling is just too much in public around people in his opinion. He doesn't want the moment to be ruined by some jackass (or a friend), you know? In the beginning of the relationship with him, you two would spend hours over the phone just talking about whatever. On that note, he LOVES hearing you go on little tangents. You've caught him dozing off because of this!

"Eddie? Are you listening to me?" "Huh? Oh...well...I was listening to your gorgeous voice and couldn't help but doze off from sheer joy." "That's the most corny compliment Eddie!...I liked it."

He loves sleeping by you. Spooning is his favorite position to sleep by you in. Whether it's being held by you or him holding you, he loves it. Especially when he gets to hold your hand. Intertwine your fingers with him, and he'll melt like putty in your hands. (More on this later)

NSFW

He's surprisingly super flustered and bashful when in bed with you. He isn't very experienced with sex, and emphasizes that.

"Y/N I'm...I'm probably gonna suck absolute ass at this. So, I'm sorry in advance." "This is the fourth time you've said this, I don't mind!"

He isn't kinky at first, until he actually got to experiment certain things he thought was interesting. This lead to some interesting moments in bed. He is particularly fond of bondage and blindfolding most. He likes the thought of you being tied up and trusting him so much, and vise versa. He's more of a switch, but loves a good night when he's being dominated. Not to mention he loves being teased and teasing you.

"P-Please Y/N at least let me finish this plot I'm writing...I gotta get this new campaign story finished by tomorrow!"

He loves morning sex, especially when it's early and you both just woke up. He also likes midnight sex, again, when you both are all groggy and had just woken up. Please hold his hand- he fucking LIVES for it. He cracks jokes in the middle of it all and after it all. It's how he does aftercare. He gets you everything you need, and then helps and cleans you, before telling you jokes to make you giggle.

Billy Hargrove:

SFW:

At first, it was a one-sided relationship. He didn't pay much attention to what you needed, or he did and didn't care as much. It hurt for a bit, but you kept your patience with him. And to say that least, that's the best decision you've made this entire relationship. Because the more involved you got with the relationship, the more he eased up around you. He started to get really sweet towards you and was more attentive to your needs. Anytime you were upset or something was wrong and you tried to hide it, Billy was first to notice. every single time.

"Something's wrong. What happened and who did it?" "Billy I'm fine." "Bullshit 'cuz if you were fine you wouldn't be on the verge of tears."

You picked up on this, and didn't tease him for it because you know the moment that you would, he would stop, and you didn't want that. Eventually he'd start to pick up flowers for you. Of course, not before he asked what your top five favorite flowers were. He gets jealous easily, mainly because he doesn't want you to just up and leave. That being said, he hates it when people flirt with you, and when he's being flirted with, he makes sure they know he's taken. He loves having late night talks with you when you both wake up super late together. However he doesn't like it when your visiting while Neil is home. Speaking of Neil, he gets very pissed when Neil talks bad about you, and will stand up for you. Which sometimes results in a bad argument...Or worse...

NSFW

Oh boy...He's one experienced guy. It wasn't a surprise to you, given his reputation. By far his favorite position is doggystyle. Mainly because of the view he gets, and he just loves your ass overall. Despite being a dom 90% of the time, he doesn't mind having someone dominating him in bed. He adores it when you give him hickeys on his chest, neck, ect. He'll show it off to anyone who asks about it.

"Hm? Oh- This? Yeah, my (bf/gf) gave me it. What 'bout it?"

Heaven forbid he catches a guy flirting with you. You might as well pray for him to not take out his jealousy in bed. Remember how I said he'd be willing to get dominated? Yeah, well, he also loves giving/receiving oral, so just say the word and he'll drop to his knees to give you some damn good head. There are nights where he's super sweet and gentle during it all. Either to heal an insecurity of yours or to show his appreciation for you. Usually, this happens late at night or early in the morning. He does like tired and gentle sex, despite his usually rough and fast sex. At first, he was horrible at aftercare, but the longer you two dated, the better he got at it!

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

A/N: I really enjoyed this- I know it isn't much yet but i will make more!! I promise! Toodles!

[rotationalsymmetry]

My immediate thoughts on the ending of the golden enclaves (spoilers):

I'm happy that El finally figured out how to not only accept her allies sticking with her in a crisis, but actually ask them to. Personal growth!

I do not understand the thing with Orion, but whatever, it's a fantasy story, I'll roll with it. In terms of understanding the plot at least. I'm not sure how I feel about "Orion really did have a monster inside of him that could have destroyed everything, but then it got killed and now he's fine." Wut. It helps that he seems to basically be the same person after. If he'd gone through some sort of personality makeover I would have lost it.

I find it hilarious that El was trying to get Orion to face his supposed trauma as a way of avoiding dealing with her own and her mom absolutely caught on to it. Very human.

I think there's something probably deeply symbolic about El combining the three spells there, I'm not up for unpacking it all but including the Scholomance "shelter all the wise-gifted children of the world" thing but making it real very much reminds me of this poem by Langston Hughes. The whole, it wasn't true but it was a good idea so let's make it true. On that note I imagine Orion is thrilled that he gets to stay in his favorite place and do his favorite activity forever. (Or as long as he lives? I'm not sure whether he's going to end up with a normal human lifespan or not.) And he'll get to see his favorite human at least some of the time.

I don't think I mentioned this earlier, but Orion being afraid he'd drain El's mana is more poignant in retrospect. Apparently there was actually a real risk there.

In terms of real world analogs, I think replacing the enclaves with golden stone enclaves works well as a metaphor for "the capitalist system is fucked up, but if you just tear it all down without a replacement, people will die." I know I was cheering for the burn it all down approach earlier, but the book did in fact do a solid job of showing the problems with that. Little 13 or 14 year old coming home from walking her grandmother's dog and everyone's just gone. Ay.

I'm very happy they found a way to cast the spells that do not rely on El having once in a millennium powers. Ideally they'd also find a way to get rid of maw-mouths that doesn't rely on her once a Millenium powers, but whatever.

I probably would have rolled with it if they'd broken the how enclaves are made news to the world and there was some massive outcry, but I do find it satisfyingly realistic that it's not that simple.

I am still confused about the Orion thing. That one kid from Argentina was OK because his shield was still mostly up. Lu was OK (ish) because the spell had been interrupted. But if someone really did have that done to them, before they were even born, that shouldn't actually be survivable, should it? But if Orion didn't survive, he shouldn't have been a person and he was a person. I don't get it. Gah.

Complaints aside, the ending does work for me. I'm buying it. I'm enjoying El eating edamame with Orion and having birds and butterflies in place of falling snake-things and finally admitting something is nice (personal growth). And it does feel like she's not entirely happy yet, she's not entirely content yet, but she wants to be and she's moving in that direction. I think she's getting there.

And I'm glad El got to reunite with her father's family. I wouldn't blame her if she never forgave Deepthi. But I think it's cool she did, and it really does sound like there weren't better options.

Speaking of lack of better options, it's aggravating that Ophelia made Domina, but...it's consistent with the book's themes that that happened and it doesn't prevent the happy ending. It's not about taking down a specific bad guy, or bad woman as the case may be. It's dealing with systemic bullshit, and actually El can do that without taking Ophelia out. Nice parallel to Liesel letting go of her revenge quest too.

I figure there's a much longer thing to be written about pacifism and themes in the scholomance, but for now: sometimes people get this weird idea that anyone committed to non-violence or anything similar, like not seeking revenge, must have had an incredibly sheltered life with no real problems. Anyways. El is definitely not that. She did have an especially kind mother, but that mother also didn't have a particularly sheltered life and she chose that path anyways. I approve of that narrative choice. (And it doesn't feel like it's floating out in nowhere either. It's grounded, like Avatar the Last Airbender is grounded, in showing all the characters as people. In ATLA, people in the Fire Nation are people, farmers and criminals and guerrilla fighters and soldiers are people, Ozai is a massive dick with an appalling absence of checks on his power but he's still a person. And every time El doesn't like someone, because of their privilege or because they're a jerk, she ends up seeing a different side of them, a way that they're vulnerable or have been hurt, a generous and giving or heroic side to them. Everyone gets to be a person. We don't see enough behind Ophelia's mask I think to really see what kind of person she is (we see more of what's his name, Shanghai Guy's) but we can reasonably assume that she is a person whose motives at least make sense to her.

[spnexploration]

Collared part 21

Pairing: Dean x Reader eventually

Series summary: Sam and Dean save a woman from where she has been held as a slave by a witch. But things turn dark whenever they try to take her magic collar off, leaving them with a slave to look after and a curse to break.

Episode summary: Dean apologises

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Big thanks to @iprobablyshipit91 for sense-checking the part in her head for me!

Series masterlist | Supernatural writing masterlist

Part 20 <- -> Part 22

Dean knocked on your door, “Y/N, it’s me, can I come in please?” 

“What do you want?” you said sullenly. 

“To apologise. And I have a peace offering.” 

You didn’t say anything. 

“Please can I come in?” he asked again.  

“Ok,” you said quietly. Dean opened your bedroom door and stepped inside but did not approach you. He was holding a block of chocolate that he put on the floor near you, then stood up to speak. 

“I wanted to apologise for grabbing you and picking you up today, I know you don’t like me touching you. But Sam was stuck behind the lady with the trolley and couldn’t get to you. I wasn’t going to carry you because I know you didn’t like when I did that before, but then I thought you were going to faint and then people would demand we take you to hospital, but I figured if you were already in my arms if you passed out then I could cover it up and get you to Cas if needed. So I’m sorry I did all of that without your consent.” 

That wasn't what you were expecting. You hadn’t even really thought about the fact that he’d carried you out; you’d just been so embarrassed about the whole thing and depressed about how you couldn’t fit clothes, couldn’t handle people, couldn’t even go to a shop and buy bloody pants without freaking out and needing rescuing.  

“If you hadn’t, I’d probably still be on the ground now,” you said sadly, “or shipped off to some mental institution because I can’t even handle simple shopping and they’d all think I was insane if I told them it was because a witch had kept me captive.” 

Dean looked like he wanted to reach out to you, but stopped himself. “Just because today didn’t go well doesn’t mean that you won’t ever be able to do it,” he said gently. He seemed a little uncomfortable, like he didn’t talk like this normally. It was quite different to his usual macho persona. “It’s just too early, you’re still processing. I dunno, Sam’s better at this shit than I am, but I do know that just because I fuck up killing one vampire doesn’t mean I won’t learn from that and gank the next one.” 

You laughed at his analogy. He never talked about killing monsters to you when you still had the collar on.  

“Do you want to come out and watch TV with Sam and I?”  

“Umm...” 

“We have snacks! I’ll even let you pick what to watch and I won’t complain about it once. You can ask Sam, that is not something I offer willy-nilly.” 

You laughed again and slowly nodded. He looked pleased. 

---  

“Were you bullshitting earlier or could demons or witches or whatever be after me?” You'd been so caught up in your panic attack you'd forgotten about this earlier, but sitting on your cushion on the floor watching a movie, you'd suddenly remembered.  

“Well, we hadn't really been intending to tell you like that,” Sam said with a glare at Dean, “But it's true. We're just trying to work it out.” 

“Bullshit,” you said, temper flaring again. “You never intended to tell me at all!” 

“Y/N-“ Sam tried.  

“No, you two would much prefer to treat me like a child. Tell me to go to bed, hide things from me, the list goes on!” 

“We’re not trying to treat you like a child-” 

“Oh really? The streaming service said parental controls are in operation!” 

“We were trying to protect you when you had the collar on, you were understandably scared of everything. I just forgot to take them off.” 

“No, you just hoped I wouldn't notice!” You stood up and stormed out of the room, marching down to your room. You weren't even sure you believed what you were saying, but you just felt so damn angry! 

---   

“She is a fucking yo-yo,” Dean muttered to Sam when you'd stormed off. “One second she's sweet, then she's sad, then she's screaming blue murder again.” 

“Trauma. Plus, it’s probably like when they say people go through stages of grief. I'm pretty sure anger is in there.” 

“Any idea how long this is going to last?” 

“How long is a piece of string?” 

Dean sighed.  

---  

You paced your room. Those bloody brothers, always treating you like a child. Bossing you around, literally telling you to go to bed like you were 7. Controlling what you ate, what you watched, when you left the bunker – which was practically never.  

Dimly, you were aware that you were conflating their behaviour when you had the collar on with how they acted now that it was off. No one had told you to go to bed since the collar had been removed, although you’d barely been out of your room for them to talk to you. But it was hard to separate in your memories when you had the collar and when you didn’t; it was easier to just remember other people’s behaviour and clump everything together. 

And they should have known! They knew you were a person! They knew you were an adult! What right did they have to act like that even with the collar?! The collar didn’t change anything about you! It’s just their bullshit behaviour that’s the problem here.  

And IF you might have responded differently with the collar on, well they could just deal. The problem is them, is how they’ve always treated you. You weren’t looking for them to boss you around! And…! And…  

Your anger started to get derailed as you struggled to continue buying your own logic. Nothing you were thinking made any sense, even to your addled and confused brain. Your lack of clarity of thought was making you even more confused and worked up. 

But through it all, the anger remained. The ever-present, red-hot anger.  

Screw the Winchesters. It didn’t matter what logic you did or didn’t use, they were still treating you like a child. They were the problem here, not your brain.  

Maybe you’d just go watch an R rated movie later. Yeah, that’d show them.  

---  

Sam had removed the parental controls when you got to the TV, long after they’d both gone to bed. Good. 

It took you a while to work out all of the controls, smart TVs were so different to when you’d last been able to browse for yourself. Hell, prior to moving to the bunker, to when you’d last even seen a TV. But you worked it out.  

You found the horror category. You’d never been super into horror movies and you paused, wondering if this was a good idea. But then the resentful, angry part of you remembered being treated like a child. Remembered your feelings of inadequacy when you couldn’t even buy something in a shop.  

You clicked play.  

It was barely 10 minutes in and you were already terrified. You screamed when something jumped out again, and curled your toes when blood gushed out of a character’s wound. You screwed your face up and hid it behind your knees when it looked like they were about to be killed. 

You turned the TV off. You felt both relieved and morose, unable to do a normal adult thing again.  

You padded back to your room and got into your blankets on the floor. You avoided even looking at the bed, not wanting yet another reminder of how not-normal you were, of all the things you couldn’t bring yourself to do.  

You closed your eyes.  

Your brain replayed the worst bits of the horror movie to you. You tried to crumple up the sketch sheet in your mind’s eye, force it to show you something else, but it didn’t work. You tried to think about other things but that backfired: suddenly instead of being worried about some fictional character being tortured, you were remembering literally being tortured. 

Azaneth. His knife. His orders. Making you cry and scream and beg him to stop, then laughing in your face. You tried to stop your mind dwelling on it, but every time you forced yourself away, somehow your thoughts came back to him again.  

You were sweating, starting to freak out.  

You felt scared, felt like you were cowering in room 14 again, even though you’d never had blankets or a pillow in that room. The room felt both tiny and giant, like it was going to crush you or like its walls stretched on forever.  

Sometimes, for a change of pace, your brain showed you the blood and gore from the movie again. But then it became your blood, circling back around in a horrifying, never-ending chain.  

You didn’t know what to do.  

Eventually, you couldn’t stand being alone in your room anymore. You needed something to remind you you weren’t alone, to stop you going crazy.  

You opened the door and fled to the corridor.  

But now what?  

You crept along the corridor, worried about the brothers seeing you like this, and yet somehow also wanting to see the brothers, to not feel alone.  

You found yourself outside Dean’s room. You could hear him snoring. It was… comforting. You remembered the times he had saved you, like when he grabbed you so the witch couldn’t get her book. You’d felt so much safer in his arms.  

Feeling incredibly foolish, you went and grabbed a pillow and blanket from your room.  

You curled up outside Dean’s door and fell asleep, listening to the sounds of him sleeping.  

[mariana-oconnor]

The Creeping Man pt 3

Look, the only logical explanation for this one is demonic possession.

That's not true, but it does add nicely to the Sherlock Holmes Urban Fantasy Universe I have been building in my head all year. The Truth Behind the Mysteries! The Conspiracy Uncovered! It's been magic and supernatural beings all along and Watson has been lying to us!

“I don't think you have anything to fear now for a week at least,” Holmes answered. “I am a busy man, and Dr. Watson has his patients to attend to."

This definitely wins the prize for the story that gives the most fucks about Watson's day job. It keeps being mentioned. Do you think an actual doctor sat down with ACD at some point and said 'excuse me, but your character is unrealistic'?

“He heard from his London correspondent to-day. There was a letter and there was a small packet, each with the cross under the stamp which warned me not to touch them. There has been nothing else.”

Oh, okay. So he's on drugs that he gets from this mysterious London correspondent every 9? days and then he takes them and he gets super high and crawls around on the floor and climbs pipes up to second floor windows.

"...it is necessary to hold the professor under observation. I would suggest, therefore, that you remain awake and on the lookout. Should you hear him pass your door, do not interrupt him, but follow him as discreetly as you can. Dr. Watson and I will not be far off."

Verily, it is time for the sneaky-sneak.

"...that he is in secret correspondence with a Bohemian dealer in London, who presumably represents someone in Prague, and that he received a packet from him this very day, all point in one direction. What he takes and why he takes it are still beyond our ken..."

So yeah, drugs. I caught onto that quite late. I'm ashamed of myself. I allowed myself to get too distracted by the demon of it all.

He was clad in his dressing-gown. As he stood outlined in the doorway he was erect but leaning forward with dangling arms, as when we saw him last.

Oh boy, is this going to be some sort of devolution thing? Like he takes a drug that makes him regress back to being an ape? Is that what's happening here? I thought we were past the period in literature where that was a major point when we got to these later stories. That was a thing at the end of the 1800s - Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde and the like. I guess it hung around.

As we watched him he suddenly began with incredible agility to ascend it. From branch to branch he sprang, sure of foot and firm of grasp, climbing apparently in mere joy at his own powers, with no definite object in view.

Oh wow, yep. That's some monkey-ass bullshit going on there.

What the fuck kind of drug does that?

The professor squatted down very deliberately just out of reach of the hound and began to provoke it in every possible way. He took handfuls of pebbles from the drive and threw them in the dog's face, prodded him with a stick which he had picked up, flicked his hands about only a few inches from the gaping mouth, and endeavoured in every way to increase the animal's fury...

OK, yeah. Roy is the victim in all this. Poor Roy. He'd better survive this story, Watson. Don't go adding any more dogs to your kill count.

It was a very narrow thing for the professor's life.

Do not care about the professor right now. What about the dog? Don't you dare kill Roy, Watson. Don't you dare!

Bennett's voice and presence brought the great wolfhound instantly to reason.

Thank heavens. Good dog. Who's a good boy? Anyone would have snapped after having stones thrown at them like that repeatedly. Roy is an innocent victim in all of this and I am so glad that he's survived.

The sharp teeth had passed dangerously near the carotid artery, and the haemorrhage was serious. In half an hour the danger was past, I had given the patient an injection of morphia, and he had sunk into deep sleep.

People in these stories seem to survive having dogs try to rip their throats out quite a lot... well, at least twice. Which is more times than I'd expect.

Also, Watson, I doubt the medical decision to give someone drugs when you don't know what drugs they're already on. You don't know how those two things are going to interact with each other. Especially when the guy's already lost a lot of blood. You're lucky you didn't accidentally kill him.

At least you didn't kill the dog, though, I suppose.

I'm also surprised you didn't give him brandy. And a little disappointed.

“At present the scandal is confined to our own household. It is safe with us. If it gets beyond these walls it will never stop. Consider his position at the university, his European reputation, the feelings of his daughter.”

So are we assuming that the guy is dead before this is published? And also didn't Watson say at the start that this story was to set the record straight?

"Let us see what we can find in the professor's mysterious box.”

'It is possible that the serum of anthropoid would have been better. I have, as I explained to you, used black-faced langur because a specimen was accessible. Langur is, of course, a crawler and climber, while anthropoid walks erect and is in all ways nearer.'

This is just magic, right? Sufficiently ridiculous pseudo science is just magic. So the professor has been treating some unknown ailment by shooting up with... serum made from animal blood? And that's been making him act like an animal?

Totally reasonable science there.

Wtf kind of condition requires this sort of treatment? It is ye olde viagra? He was supposed to be marrying a younger woman. Maybe he was worried about satisfying her.

"an obscure scientist who was striving in some unknown way for the secret of rejuvenescence and the elixir of life."

OMG it is old fashioned viagra! I was kidding. I'm sorry... 'elixir of life'. That's just viagra. Istg.

“The real source,” said Holmes, “lies, of course, in that untimely love affair which gave our impetuous professor the idea that he could only gain his wish by turning himself into a younger man.

You do not know how much I am laughing right now at the fact that this whole elaborate story is just because the guy wanted to be able to fuck a younger woman. Seriously. All of this because of erectile dysfunction. (Yes, I know it's not stated outright in the text, but subtext people. SUBTEXT. We all know what he means.) I know it's a serious problem for people who suffer from it, but the fact that all these people were freaking out because he went off to Prague and got himself shot up with animal juice so he could get laid but it had the side effect of turning him into a monkey once every 9 days. It's so much. And it's honestly such a believable reason.

"The highest type of man may revert to the animal if he leaves the straight road of destiny.”

This is nonsense, though. Fuck destiny. Nothing is preordained. And straight roads are so boring. Trying to get it up when you're older doesn't make you an animal. He just got involved with an unethical scientist. He needed to stop and ask for peer review and some proper drug trials.

Don't take experimental drugs, people. Unless as part of a regulated medical trial. Don't do it. Not even for the sake of sex. It's not worth it. You'll turn into a monkey and upset puppies.

I don't even think he ended up with the girl after all this. Tragic.

"Consider, Watson, that the material, the sensual, the worldly would all prolong their worthless lives. The spiritual would not avoid the call to something higher. It would be the survival of the least fit."

Rude. I get you're all about the cerebral, Holmes. But that's just rude.

And that's it. No confrontation with the professor. I assume that they stop him from taking the drugs after that. Pity he wasn't born a century later, then he'd have had access to something that worked. No idea if he got the girl in the end. Or how he was expecting it to work if he did marry her and every 9 days he turned into a monkey. That's something to learn about your new husband.

But oh wow, the pseudo science in this on. It's so much. I don't even know what to make of it. Injecting animal serum makes you act like an animal. Injecting animal serum makes you live longer. Wow. just wow. I guess the emphasis on Watson's job was to remind us that he's a doctor so when he starts doing doctory things we don't get confused.