#but i wanted to see him look tired and beaten down as he's about to come face to face with death that to some extent he feels he deserves

[psiejqbgk-ao3]

Screenshot edit of the Shinigami Arc flashback where a young Gintoki was imprisoned. I wanted to bring out the old school long hair Shiroyasha hairstyle, and make him look as sad as this point of his life made me feel T_T

[rollingeevee]

Wait if we have the Beasts bites what about Anciens?

Maybe in AU where they also corrupted or smth like that, how would their bites be like? (Ofc u don’t have to answer that im just dumping my ideas here xd)

I actually think I have an ask about Ancients somewhere else in my ask box that I plan to answer soon (they don’t have a bite but they do have smth similar in a way) but you specifically mentioned corrupted Ancients. And that inspired me… SO HAVE A TRUTHLESS RECLUSE X READER ONESHOT! MUAHAHAHA

You can now find part 2 here!

Warnings: A lil suggestive?

“Pure Vanilla, please!” You begged your lover. “Our friends need our help! I don’t understand how you can just sit here and refuse to acknowledge that!”

Pure Vanilla, or Truthless Recluse as he’d renamed himself, remained silent. He stared intently at you, a gaze that used to be so warm and filled with care and life, now reduced to tired, intimidating darkness.

As you pleaded with the one you adored so dearly, fallen to Deceit, his mind swam with thoughts. Shadow Milk had allowed your stay in the Spire with him for a reason yet unknown to you. But the reason was becoming apparent to Pure Vanilla. Shadow Milk knew of the relationship between the two of you, and he knew that with corruption now plaguing the Truthless Recluse’s heart, it would only be a matter of time before the once compassionate Cookie found himself overcome with that Beastly urge to bite. And Shadow Milk, ever the lover of theatrics, wanted to see the once so pure Cookie give into his new, corrupted urges. To embrace the inner Beast that he knew lay dormant within.

He was taken out of his thoughts when you announced that, if he wouldn’t help you, you would find and help the young Cookies on your own. He seemed to snap to life at that declaration.

His arms were around you before you could reach the door, pulling, almost yanking, you back into the depths of the room Shadow Milk had provided for him. You turned to face him with a scowl. “Pure Vanilla, let me go!”

“Stay.” Was his only response, though it was more of a command than anything. His tone had lost the warmth you’d come to know and love from it, replaced by a cool, possessive rumble from deep within his chest that seemed to vibrate your entire body.

Your expression became desperate. “Please, my love…” your voice was quiet and despairing. “Please… let me go… or come with me… I cannot allow Shadow Milk to torment those poor children who have done so much to help you… to help us…”

His grip tightened. “You’re not going anywhere.” He asserted.

“Pure Vanilla-”

“Don’t leave me…” His voice was but a whisper this time, far less oppressive and dominating than his previously issued orders. Almost… vulnerable. You felt a spark of longing familiarity in your heart. You raised your eyes to look into his own. Those tired, beaten eyes shimmered with anguish and a helpless need for your presence. Pure Vanilla was still in there… somewhere… buried deep, surely, but he was there.

With soft eyes, you turned your body to face his and wrapped your arms around him in a hug. He nuzzled his face against the top of your head, nose buried in your hair. He sat down upon his bed, dragging you down to straddle his lap so that he could hide his face in the crook of your neck. As he breathed in your scent, the muscles of his body seemed to relax. It was another glimpse of the Pure Vanilla you knew and loved, further solidifying your belief that the Cookie you adored still existed amongst the corruption. But your focus on this caused you to fail to catch the feeling of his lips twitching against your dough.

What little was left of Pure Vanilla in the corrupted cookie urged him to stay calm. To resist. But Truthless Recluse could no longer fight the urge to bare his new fangs…

You heard your lover suck in a breath through his parting teeth. His body was tense again, now feeling akin to a predator poised to strike. Before you could figure out what was about to happen, he sank them into your soft dough with a hiss. You cried out as the area was flooded with a chilling cold that quickly spread throughout your body like a potent venom. You felt him exhale through his nose in what seemed like relief, the urge that had been gnawing at him since he fell into Deceit finally sated. You weakly whined as he swiped his tongue across the fresh mark that seemed to pulse with magic, unable to move as he pulled you so close that there was no longer any space between your bodies.

“All mine…”

[rafesfawn]

🪽🧺 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋

𝜗ৎ⋆｡˚ when rafe sees a precious little doll on the side of the road with a broke-down car, how can he resist out of the kindness of his heart offering her a ride? just a ride home, that's all...

or how trailerpark!angel!reader and rafe met!

warnings: use of the nickname pet & little one, reader! is eighteen-nineteen! bit of perv!rafe, barely proofread!

a/n: first time writing a rafe fic/blurb! im so excited, also this is based on this ask and thank you so much for sending something I really appreciated it and I hope u like it mwah! I would say you two meet in like early season 2 (right before the cross storyline) also for the format slight ib to others on here esp @rafesangelita (sorry for the tag!)

this was based off of this ask! which tysm i literally love requests and rafe and trailerpark!angel!reader is my new obsession <3

a small, meaningless kick was made to the tire while you huffed and groaned, putting two hands over your frustrated features as all you wanted to curl up into a ball and cry.

“piece of shit,” you mumbled under your breath, kicking the tire once more, but immediately a whimper fell from your lips. the pain shot from your toe up to your spine. making you sniffle and tip-toe in pain. in your denim ruffle skirt, white socks, and pink converse, you sat down on the asphalt, on the side of the road, leaning against the side of your broken-down car.

she wasn’t the best car, but she surely got you around most of the time. most of the time. it was a little volkswagen beetle, light pink in color, covered in so many stickers some wondered if it was passing inspection. it wasn't.

sitting with your head against the car for what felt like hours (it was maybe ten minutes), but spending even that on the side of a main road in kildare island was torture. especially with the beating sun late august provided.

rafe was speeding down the road on the way to play golf and get drunk with topper and kelce. “ah shit, i don’t know, man.” he said into his phone, holding it up with one hand; his voice gruff and confident, topper on the other line. “you really think i won’t kick your ass today huh?” a smirk grew on his already smug expression.

letting out a short chuckle at toppers response, nothing anybody ever said meant more than a laugh to him. or that's what it used to be like anyway, his act wasn't together if anything, it was worse than it'd ever been. his father condemning him to disingenuous "discipline" to forget about the possible death of his golden daughter.

"the fuck?" he mutters into the mic, his voice laced with confusion. as he sees up ahead on the road, a pink car broken down, with the most precious thing sitting against it. a pout on the angels soft lips and the most defeated look in her eye. aw, you just fell right into my lap, didn't you? little angel.

your eyes glued on the pavement, your entertainment of watching a little ladybug try to make it to safety in the distance, was shortly interrupted.

a nice black truck coming into view it came to such a short stop it almost took your breath away, the breaks slightly screeching at the haste. a tire replaced the spot the ladybug once was.

you stood brushing the dirt and gravel off the backsides of your pale thighs, left bare by the short fabric of your skirt.

the man stepped out of the truck. he was tall, and the sleeves of his polo looked like they were about to burst at the seams, not able to contain the biceps beneath. his features strong and statue-like, his deep sea eyes hidden behind the curtain bangs that hung over his forehead. a grin that seemed too genuine, too good to be true.

you removed your heart-shaped sunglasses, placing them on top of your head to see him more clearly. your possible savior, but he was anything but.

he stepped a bit closer, seeing the state of her already pretty beaten car, "having some car trouble?" rafe asked as if he wasn't stating the obvious.

you pretended he wasn't either as you nodded, the frown only slight now but still on your lips as your eyes remained looking up into his.

"aw.. poor thing we can't have that, what happened?" his voice, a mockery of sympathy. as he inspected the piece of shit car she loved so much. his care coming from a place of ownership, of burning ache or want.

still, in slight shock, you hadn't answered him, following behind him as he reopened the hood like he owned the car. not even realizing you'd been rude and not replied till he spoke again. "little one, i can't fix it if you don't tell me what's wrong." a heady mix of gentle and firm that made your mouth go dry and your head dizzy.

"oh- it's been on her last limb for like ever, i guess she finally called it quits... right on my way home." you said with a little sad laugh that rafe wanted to bottle the sound of and listen to on repeat. "and I really need to get home," you added fiddling with your fingers in front of you.

a sweet girl all out of options, rafe was so glad he was here to provide her with his help. "tell you what, I'll take you home and come back and fix this thing up for you, huh?" he offered, there goes his saturday plans he presumed. it'd be worth it. he told himself he'd make it worth it, with those shy eyes and the expression you carried like a lost puppy. you'd owe him he'd make sure to get something in return.

just like he figured, you shook your head. never wanting to accept such a grand favor. "I can't ask you to do that, I mean, I don't even know your name." nerves, curiosity, and a glint of something else tinged in your voice, so many wonders in that head as soon as his truck came to a stop for you. why? the only question running through your mind.

"It's rafe, can I help you out now?" his genuine grin turned almost smug at his own remark, brushing that bangs out his face, the effort pointless as they immediately fell back again.

you paused. picking at the already chipped white nail polish on your sore fingertips, a larger-rougher hand covered your own, stopping your movements with that firm gentleness he carried around her. you looked up at him, he was so much closer. the scent of some cologne that probably could pay your rent, and a tinge of smokey wood filled your senses.

"pet?" he questioned with an expecting tilt of his head, calling you that like it was the most natural thing in the world.

your body and mouth responding before giving another second for your brain or anxiety to think it over, you nodded. "can you please give me a ride home?" you hesitantly asked, it felt weird. getting help, and even asking for it felt foreign, he offered it so graciously like it was nothing.

looking down upon her, his grin turned genuine once again, his eyes seemed almost proud it was a soothing balm to her nervous heart. a rosy hue to her cheeks as his palm covered the side of her neck, making a few pats to the flesh before leading her to his truck.

you'd owe him. something he was sure you were ready for.

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

Don't save me.

Pairing: Geum Seongje x reader.

Summary: People told you that he was dangerous. A wild card. Not to be trusted. The redist red flag but didn't they know you're colorblind for him?

Warning: Toxic relationship, Bullying, Violence, Cheating?Arguing, Verbal abuse, Choking, Cream pie, P in v, Dirty talk, Plot with Smut?

You can't recall the last time you felt truly and undeniably happy. It has been so long since you laughed so hard that your stomach ached or smiled so broadly that your cheeks hurt. It's been a while since you experienced that exhilarating feeling of euphoria.

Middle school, you think.

Faint memories of laughter and jokes circulating, untouched lunches, and that once warm sensation. High school. Little you thought how cool and wonderful it would be.

What a load of bullshit.

A pained grunt escaped your clenched teeth as a strong kick to your stomach sent your body crashing against the steel gray lockers. Your head struck hard against the metal, and your body crumpled to the floor.

"Are you going to open that smart-ass mouth again, or should I just keep going?" Ha-yoon's makeup-caked face sneered. You didn't know why you snorted back a chuckle nor why a small, sarcastic smile had crept onto your lips.

"You think this is funny?" she screeched, her hand rearing back.

"Ha-yoon, cut it out," Eun-kyung's angelic voice said as her dark eyes finally glanced up from her manicured nails. She pushed off the wall, and Ha-yoon backed away immediately.

'Just like a loyal puppy. Obeying her Mistress's order'

Eun-Kyung sighed through her nose like she was tired of wasting her time. She squatted down, allowing her silky raven hair, which was pulled into a ponytail, to fall over her shoulder. With her elbows resting against her thighs and her cheek resting on the ball of her fist, she gazed at you with a look of boredom and disinterest.

"You're fucking pathetic when you run that mouth. It almost seems you like pissing me off." Rage flicked through her irises as she quickly grabbed your hair and slammed your head against the lockers. "Unless cunt!" She yelled and slammed your head again, harder.

Your vision blurred and your ears rang. Black surrounded the edge of your vision before you passed out. Cruel laughter and fading footsteps were the last thing you heard.

When you came too and began to walk to your small apartment, your head ached and throbbed. Despite that, it was manageable if you took some pain medicine.

You were going out with Seongje, your long-time boyfriend, at a new club with some guys from the Union and you won't let a headache and a few stupid bruises stop you from seeing him. Being with him made you feel so alive; with him, you were respected by the gang. You were Seongje's girl. And nobody was foolish enough to mess with you unless they wanted to be beaten to half to death.

Dating him wasn’t always a smooth ride. Arguments were common, and so were screaming matches. Things were thrown, and surfaces were punched, but he never hit you, nor did he aim at you. You understood he wasn’t a good person, yet he loved you in his own flawed way.

The dark club pulsed with music, and you could feel the rhythm with every step you took as Seongje led you, his arm draped casually over your shoulders. Flashing lights danced wildly around the room. Bodies moved, jumping and grinding against each other.

The group chose a round table to sit at, and soon it was cluttered with cigarette ash and empty bottles.

Sang-Ook, Dae-Ho, and Du-Ho were boys who attended the same school as Seongje and played together at Internet cafes. The twins were already drunk, laughing to themselves, and talking to Sang-Ook about which woman he was going to try to fuck and making crude jokes. Normal gross boy talk.

Seongje didn't say much; instead, he stared blankly while listening to the other boys, his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close. You weren't interested in their conversation, so you simply snuggled into his side. You didn't know why he wanted to be there, but you followed him wherever he went unless it was related to gang activities.

Your eyebrows furrowed; the sudden pressure on your bladder was becoming too strong to ignore.

"Seongje," you whispered in his ear. He responded with a low hum of curiosity, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly with the sound. After a moment of hesitation, you shyly admitted that you needed to use the bathroom. Seongje chuckled, pulled out his favorite pack of cigs from his tiger-printed windbreaker, and lifted one to his lips, "Go," he ordered, nodding toward the direction of the bathroom.

"I'll be right back." You quickly got out of the booth. "Better. I don't like waiting." He lit the end of the cigarette and inhaled the gray smoke into his lungs.

You sighed in relief as you exited the stall and turned on the sink water. As you washed your hands, you remained unfazed by the sounds of the bathroom door opening and the clicking of two pairs of heels on the tiled floor. The two women giggled among themselves, and you could feel their intense stares directed at the side of your face. While drying your hands, you glanced at the wide mirrors above the sink.

A sickening dread dropped into the pit of your stomach as you caught sight of the familiar coral dye and blue highlights. Ha-yoon and Seo-Yeon.

'How were they here? Did they know you were going to be here? If they were here, doesn't that mean..'

You dared to meet Ha-yoon's gaze in the mirror. A mischievous cruelty sparkled back; she knew something, and if you didn't feel dread before, you certainly did now. Your breath quicked as you rushed out of the woman's bathroom.

You need to grab Seongje and go.

You stopped a few feet from the booth. This had to be a dream, a messed-up nightmare, but the painful shattering of your heart told you this was all happening.

Eun-kyung's honeyed giggles cut through the roaring music. Her black hair flowed over her shoulders like a river, her skimmy pastel dress fit her like a second skin and her soft pink lips curled into a flirty smile that beamed brighter than the lights that painted her and Seongje in rosy red as she idly played with his sliver chain—the chain you got him.

He simply sat there, his arm resting on the top of the booth above Eun-Kyung, his eyes intensely focused on her. His expression was unreadable, and when her beautiful eyes met his, you couldn't bear it any longer. You choked back tears as you pushed and squeezed past the people having the time of their lives.

You sniffed, your legs aching from the many rounds of walking you did in the nearby park for almost an hour. You didn't want to go home immediately; too much of him was there, from the many nights he stayed over.

You wiped the fading tears from your cheeks as you bent slightly to take off your shoes, throwing them down carelessly. Dragging your feet toward the couch, you paused and squinted your eyes. A figure was sitting there, a small red dote appeared from the darkness and the following smoke floated out in the illumination of the kitchen light. You inhale sharply and switch the living room light on.

Seongje stared at the blank TV screen for what felt like several seconds before adjusting his glasses. Slowly, he turned his head toward you, and his eyes fixed on your face. To anyone else, he appeared cool and unbothered, but you knew him better than that.

He was enraged.

"Where were you?" He leaned forward to put out his cigarette. "Why does it matter? You clearly were very busy when I came back from the bathroom." you shot back, your words sharp. He paused at your pointed response before finally extinguishing his cigarette in the wolf-shaped ashtray. "You let her..you let her touch you..and you didn't tell her to back off. Did you enjoy her company that much?" you asked, your voice breaking at the thought of the two of them together.

"You think I'd cheat on you? I may be a lot of things but a fucking cheater Isn't one of them." He spoke in a faux calm tone as he backed you into the hallway and into your bedroom.

"S-Seongje.." You warned.

"I thought My girl wasn't a dumbass." He ridiculed, a cruel smile stretching on his lips as he backed you more and more towards your bed

"Don't call me dumb! I'm not stupid! You jackass!" you snapped before letting out a surprised noise as you fell onto your bed, trying to escape from him. "Oh no, baby," he cooed mockingly. "I work with incompetent, useless punks. You're stupid if you think I would cheat on you with some one-and-million whore. Don't worry, though. I'll show you who I really belong to." Seongje shrugged off his windbreaker, letting it fall to the floor, and crept onto the bed after kicking off his pants and underwear.

You should be mad, pissed at him, shouldn't feel your treacherous cunt heat up, and gush slick but watching as he took off his shirt and threw it to the side, bare except his glasses and his chain. He was lean, and muscular in ways that counted, and his cock. His dick twitched as if sensing your admiring gaze.

He was above average length, so thick it struggled to stand up completely, and veiny. The glans was a darker shade than the rest of his skin; the slit oozed a pearl of pre-cum. And a trimmed bush around the base of his dick. His member was just as fine as him.

You happily helped him take off your clothes until you were both as naked as the day you were born. Seongje smirked smugly, the bedroom look you gave him made him want to take you right there but the urge to tease you won over. Seongje wrapped his arms around your spread legs and pulled your ass on top of his thighs. His dick slid between your folds, coating himself in your wetness, and the tip rested on your bud; he drew back and snapped forward, giving himself a pussy job.

"Just fuck me!" You cried as he continued to fuck your lips and clitoris. "I don't know. Should I?" He questioned. You cried, frustrated, and bucked your hips to try and fail to trick him inside, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I accused you of cheating. Now fuck my brains out!" You screamed; Seongje simply hummed a 'good enough,' drew back until his cock head caught on your entrance, and he rolled his hips.

You both let a groan as he pushed into your tight, wet, gummy depths. The action alone was close enough to make you cum. His cock, lay heavy on your walls, and his veins brushed against those spots until he bottomed out. You grabbed his hands that gripped your hips and threw your head back, moaning loudly as he pulled out and slammed into you, "Can't believe, you think I'd give up this pussy," He grunted, thrusting harshly, the bed banging against the back wall "this is my fucking pussy. Mine." He growled pushing his hair away from his face before grabbing your neck, his fingers squeezing the side of your throat.

You gasped and moaned as you held his wrist, your eyes rolled back, "Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry-" you blabbed, drooling. Seongje laughed meanly, his eyes shined amused "Look at this. Did I already fucked my girl cockdrunk?" He released your throat and lifted your hips up more, making him reach deeper; the loud clapping of skin, the moans, groans, and cures along the embarrassing squelching of your cunted filled the room. Seongje's glasses slid down the bridge of his nose and his chain smacked against his sweat, glistening chest. Frustrated, he tore the glasses off his face, tossed them beside your head, and leaned down, his body covering yours. His large groped and knead your ass as he kissed you passionately. You wailed into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck as you cummed.

Seongje pulled back, grunted as his eyes flutter shut, his hips slamming into your hips, his fast pace because sloppy as his dick twitched. He grunted one more time as his hot cum spilled into your pulsing pussy, painting you white from the inside.

"You were meant to be mine.." Seongje spoke up after you both cleaned up and laid together. Your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat lull you to sleep, "We were meant to be" he whispered into your ear, your eyes finally closing. If this was a dream from your otherwise miserable life you didn't want to wake up.

[ao3commentoftheday]

I am having issues being nice to people in my ao3 comments. Most of the time people are perfectly lovely and I love having interactions with them. It's really important to me that when I'm on my writer tumblr instead of my main and on my ao3, I foster a kind and gentle community. I feel like that starts with me and that is the sort of environment I want to create.

Now, the problem is this fic I wrote. It's for a pretry big fandom and it got a lot of traction (like first page when sorting by hits while there are tens of thousands of fics) and it's been wild. Mostly great... except this one arc I wrote where character A, who is mentally ill and gets triggered into a spiral acts mentally ill, which negatively impacts people around him, including character B (it's a ship fic), who while not responsible is making it worse and making the active choice to stay, because he also has his own issues. The fic explores the aftermath of that as well, but for a few chapters it's just the downward spiral. And while it isn't all condoned, I give character A understanding due to the situation as well as a healing journey, wherein he apologizes and does better and makes up for it.

Sadly for me, character B is the fandom's favorite white boy, who is always the hurt victim in every situation and has no responsibility ever. So me also stating how character B is in part responsible forthe situation ending up getting as bad is a no go and people are very angry at me. On top of that, I based a lot of character A's struggles on my own, which makes it even less pleasant to get detailed comments about how he deserves to be beaten up for his actions and left by all his friends and family to stew in the guilt for the rest of forever all alone, less than fun.

I don't want to have to tell people about my own personal struggles and I am tired of explaining that it is a character arc and a nuanced and complex situation wherein multiple parties are at fault. And I have chronic have to reply even when I know ignoring it is better syndrome. At what point does it become acceptable to just be a fucking bitch to people?

First of all, lemme give you a hug 💗 It's never fun when people misunderstand your message and it's even worse when there's a personal element to it as well.

The way I see it, your comments section belongs to you. It's an extension of your fic and it's a place where every message left gets dropped into your inbox. If there's something you don't want to see in your comments section? Delete it. If there's someone who won't stop misinterpreting you/your characterization or someone who is being an asshat? Block them. Then delete their comment.

I know people get hung up on whether or not they should do that, but I'm here to tell you that if I didn't delete hate and block haters, this blog would have shut down in 2020, if not earlier. You need to take care of yourself, and if that means removing that part of your comments then so be it.

I also prefer to lead with empathy and understanding. I believe in giving people the benefit of the doubt. I work very hard at taking the best interpretation possible of scenarios that people write me about. But that doesn't mean I need to put up with hate or with willful ignorance or with snarky "ironic" dystopian takes on my attempts to be sincere and helpful. Those things all make it harder for me to continue this hobby I love, and therefore I delete and I block and I move on in the direction I'm going.

I definitely understand the desire to be a heinous bitch in response. I've even given into it a few times. But I also remember those times because I'm not proud of myself for losing my temper. I look back on them and wish that I hadn't chosen a good burn over my principles.

Don't share anything that you don't actually want to share with strangers on the internet. Don't keep comments around that make you feel bad. Put an author's note at the bottom of the chapter explaining what you're going for and letting readers know that you don't want comments like the ones you describe here - and delete them if they come in despite that.

Sometimes you just have to clean house, anon, and get rid of some of the cruft.

[wordsarelife]

—i can fix him (no really i can)

pairing: jess mariano x fem!doose!reader

summary: jess got into another fight and you're about to clean his wounds, but he has other plans, tired of always answering your questions

warnings: kissing, making out, sexual remarks, allusions to sex

note: this was so fun to write and my first jess mariano fic, so please be gentle guys!!

“you never fail to amaze me, jess mariano“ you huffed, arms crossed as your eyes fell on the boy sitting on the curb in front of the supermarket. shadows were casted over his cheeks and he looked less than happy to see you.

"it isn't what it looks like" he muttered, trying to avert his gaze, although that was kind of hard, considering the outfit you were wearing.

your brushed your skirt to the side, before you sat down beside him. "well, it looks like you got beaten up"

"you should see the other guy" jess chuckled.

you sighed, not amused by the joke, as you softly touched his cheek.

"ow!" jess pulled his head back, trying to free it from your hands, but you were relentless, turning his chin in all possible directions to get a good look at his injuries.

"we're gonna have to clean them if you don't want them to get infected"

"i don't care about that" jess shrugged and took out a cigarette from a pocket of his jacket.

"yeah, i know tough guy". you quickly snatched the cigarette from his mouth before he was able to light it. "but i do"

"what the fuck, y/n?" jess exclaimed annoyed.

you left his words unanswered as you stood up from the cold concrete and held a hand in his direction to help him up. "come on, now. we're not dating, because i care so little about you, are we?"

jess rolled his eyes, before he followed you, of course ignoring your helping hand in the process.

you laughed at his tough act as he sent you a dark look, not finding anything about this remotely funny. he knew that this was one of your usual tactics to get him to talk. you would act understanding and worried about his injuries before he would be caught in a room alone with you, with no way to escape, having to explain every little detail about the fight.

well, tonight he decided, you were going to be caught in a room with him.

a smug smile slipped onto jess' features as he followed you up the stairs. you turned around and pushed a finger against your mouth, before you took out your keys and unlocked the door.

"grandpa is sleeping" you muttered, opening the door wide enough for jess to walk through, but not wide enough to reach the creaking sound.

jess and you had met the year before at the supermarket, where you had watched him buy a ridiculous amount of industrial glue, while he was busy watching rory and dean talk.

you had guessed that he had been doing that to bother them and while rory was a friend of yours, you had to admit that it had been a little funny.

unbeknownst to you, jess had forgotten everything about rory, once his eyes fell on you behind the counter.

"are you working on the worlds longest scrapbook or are you just very passionate about glue?"

"huh?" jess had been so stunned by what you said that he lost his usual cool demeanor and found himself at a temporary loss for words. he couldn't remember a situation in which he had not been able to reply with a witty joke.

"want me to repeat that?" you asked amused as you pulled the last bottle of glue over the scanner.

"no-uh" he shook his head "i'm jess, luke's nephew"

"oh" you smiled, a sign of recognition in your eyes "that's you!"

"and you are?" he held the ten dollar note in your direction.

you took the money, taking out his change in the process. "i'm y/n, taylor doose's—"

you were interrupted when the aforementioned man stepped next to you, a frown on his face at the sight of jess. "i'm her grandfather" he finished for you. "and you're gonna stay far away from her, you hear me, mariano?" he pressed.

"grandpa!" you scolded and jess was surprised at the sudden shame that entered taylor doose's face. it seemed like he really gave a damn about your opinion, unlike he did with anyone else in this town.

"well, i'm gonna check on miss patty and her plums" taylor excused quickly and walked away, before you could question him further.

"please don't mind him" you told jess, amusement evident on your lips "i just got back and he's been a little on edge without me here"

"where have you been?" jess asked, intrigued to hear more about the mysterious and pretty girl in front of him.

"my dad's" you replied with an uneasy smile. he recognized the expression on your face, had he always worn it himself when someone had asked him about his parents.

he decided not to stir the pot any more. "well, i'll see you around, doose" jess said, took his glue and left you standing with only a faint goodbye from your lips.

jess' hands went to squeeze your waist, as you closed the door.

you were luckily able to suppress any sound at the sudden touch and you could jess' smirk in your neck.

"very funny, mariano" you whispered, freeing yourself from his grip and turning around to let him see the annoyed expression on your face.

his eyes glistened with happiness in the dark of the hallway, before his hand went behind your back, bringing you closer to him. "why don't we go to your room?" he whispered.

you had to admit that for a short, misguided, second the sweetness of his words was not far away from undermining you.

you shook your head, snapping out of whatever had gone through your head at his tempting suggestion. "nice try" you smiled sarcastically and jess sighed, letting go of you and following behind you to the bathroom.

jess was no stranger to your rejection, especially when your grandfather was home, but he was not finished trying to (respectfully) lead you into temptation.

"there are two options how we can do this" you spoke, your voice in a normal volume as soon as jess had closed the door.

before you could explain his options, he interrupted you, the smirk now basically right in your face when you turned up the light and looked at him. "want me to lock the door?"

"no" you dragged. "you know why? because we are not doing anything forbidden"

"forbidden, huh?" jess smiled "kinda like the sound of that"

"this is not a rom-com"

"oh no" jess shook his head, wearing a faked stoic expression "of course not. just two people doing non-forbidden things in the bathroom" he shrugged.

"it sounds wrong when you say it like that"

"what does it sound like?" he stepped closer to you, ready to touch your lips with his, as his eyes fell close, but you were quicker, swerving around him, before he was able to even touch you.

"nah-ah!" you scolded.

"what?" jess turned around, now crossing his arms like you had done earlier "i'm just trying to kiss my girlfriend"

"not happening" you shrugged. "so, as i was trying to tell you before: you have two options: first, the easy one: let me fix your face and we're done in no time"

"or?" he furrowed his brows, leaning against the wall.

"or" you repeated "the hard one" jess' smile got impossibly bigger and you rolled your eyes "ew, not like you think"

"fine" he sighed. "the easy one i guess, no need to tell me about your torture method"

"it's not a torture method, but thanks for thinking so poorly of me" you muttered, before you opened the drawer under the sink, taking out the first aid kink.

you climbed on top of the counter and motioned for jess to come closer and stand in between your legs.

"well, this is kind of suggestive, don't you think?" he pinched your waist. you just shook your head, taking his hand and laying it on top of your knee instead.

"keep your hands there, mister" you directed, before you grabbed a wet cotton pad and pushed up his chin, so you could gently take the unnecessary blood off his face. "for your own good, i hope that the other started throwing punches"

"of course" jess nodded, overly dutiful, before he hissed in pain as the cotton pad touched one of the scars on his nose.

"you should've thought about that before you got into an unnecessary fight, you know?" you commented, switching out the pad, before you continued cleaning the other side of his face.

"yeah, yeah" he averted his eyes, his gaze falling onto the hem of your skirt, his fingers were laying on top of. he softly raised the fabric, pushing his hands to rest on your bare thigh.

"jess" you sighed in a warning tone.

"what? it's itchy"

"it isn't" you rolled your eyes, but didn't discuss the topic further as you threw away the pad.

you tried reaching behind you to grab one of the plasters from the first aid kit, but jess was quicker, snatching the box away from you and holding it behind his back with one hand.

"wha—"

"give me a kiss first" he prompted, smirking.

"jess" you whined, not amused at his antics.

"just one kiss, come on babe"

you reluctantly nodded. jess stepped closer, taking your chin into his hand and pulling your face closer so your lips could meet his.

his lips were warm and firm against yours, his teasing grin fading as the kiss deepened. what was meant to be a quick peck quickly turned into something more. his hand, which had been holding the first aid kit out of reach, dropped it to the floor as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

you could feel the intensity growing between you two, the playful resistance dissolving into a surge of unexpected desire.

jess' other hand moved to the small of your back, guiding you even closer as the kiss became more urgent, more consuming.

when you finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, he looked at you with a glint in his eye. "was that so hard?" he teased, his voice a little huskier than before.

"oh, shut up" you muttered, flustered and lips swollen as a cause of the intensity of the kiss. you gently shoved his face back. "now pick up the first aid kit you dropped"

"yes, ma'am"

you shook your head, laughing to yourself as you watched him reach for the box on the ground behind him. it had clattered open, revealing it's contents to the ground beneath it.

he threw everything back in the box before he picked it up and came back to the counter to stand in front of you.

you took a few plasters, opening them up to stick them to the cuts on his face. "you look cute" you commented as soon as you were finished.

"i'm not cute" jess exclaimed with a stoic expression.

"you're always cute" you shrugged, now being the one to take his chin into your hands. "especially when you tell me who you fought—"

he didn't even let you finish the sentence, before he pushed his lips against yours once more. even tough it was a clear tactic to avoid your questioning, you didn't mind it this time (not that you did before, but you had to at least act like it) pulling him closer by the neck and deepening the kiss.

jess moaned into your mouth, and your lips broke into a smile. his hands were now inching closer up your thighs and a soft laugh broke from your lips when you had to catch your breath.

"let's go to your room" jess muttered, lips skipping over your neck.

"grandpa is home" you reminded.

"grandpa is asleep" he pointed out, brows moving up and down suggestively.

"jess" you giggled, as he grabbed your waist, setting you down on the floor and taking your hand to leave the bathroom, before even waiting for an answer.

well, you weren't open to any more protests then, as he took you up to your room. the only thought in your head was to stay quiet.

opposite to the rest of the night, the next morning was straight hellfire, as neither you or jess had taken the time to set an alarm.

so taylor doose entered your room without the slightest thought and watched in horror as a half-naked jess mariano climbed out of your bedroom window and fell rather awkwardly on the ground in front of it. probably right into your grandpa's rose bushes.

"i think i might be having a heart attack"

[dark-l-angel]

hi!! I saw that you accept request, so I have an idea. It's not really a creative one but I'm obsessed with clingy Jason Todd 😭😭 so I was thinking if you can maybe (please🙏) write something where reader needs to go to work but Jason stops reader because he's needy. Do you get it😭😭

Thank you!

-G.A.

A/N: needy, whiny, bed-hogging Jason who clings like a big heat-emitting emotional weighted blanket telling you to quit that damned job that keeps you away from HIM? YES.. I've been waiting for this moment..

Clingy jason Todd x Reader

Clingy jason, reader is tired of their job. Everything else is fluff

The sun had barely risen. Pale gold light filtered through the curtains you swore you closed the night before, and the shrill alarm on your phone had already gone off.. twice. You were late.

You groaned and shifted, trying to sit up, but you didn’t get far.

There it was. That arm. That damn arm.. muscular, warm, and currently locked like a steel bar across your waist.

"Jason..." you warned softly, already knowing the game he was playing.

He didn’t answer. Not with words, at least. His only response was a muffled grunt into the crook of your neck, his nose nudging against your skin like a sleepy, stubborn dog refusing to move. You could feel his scruff, slightly overgrown, tickling your jaw.

"Jay, I have to go," you tried again, wiggling just enough to reach the edge of the bed.

"Mm-mm" he muttered, holding tighter. "Call in."

"I can’t just call in every time you get clingy-"

"You say that like it’s not a perfectly valid reason.." he interrupted, voice gravelly and deep from sleep. "Tell them your husband is a needy bastard and he’ll literally die if you leave him in this cold, cruel world alone."

You turned just enough to catch his expression.

Eyes still half-lidded, hair sticking up on one side, and that little pout forming on his lips. He looked like trouble disguised as a Greek god wrapped in a blanket burrito. Holding you in one arm while the other hugged a cute pink mochi-cat plushie.

"Jay..." you said again, but this time it was harder to fight the smile tugging at your lips.

He cracked one eye open. "What if I’m cold? You gonna leave your poor man here all defenseless and shivering while you run off to.. what.. type emails?"

"Not defenseless," you snorted. "You have guns, Jason... There's one inside that cat plushie.. and one under our pillows.. and another two in each of the nightstands jay.. "

He chuckled "And yet none of them keep me as warm as you.. and THAT JOB? It’s draining you. And I hate it. I hate seeing you come home exhausted, giving them all your time when I could be giving you everything... I don't fuckin know why you're still insisting on working when i can work instead.."

You looked down at your phone.. the messages of your coworker asking about why you're late..

Jason continued "I don’t want you breaking your back just to survive. I want you to be safe, healthy and happy. I didn’t crawl out of the damn Pit, rebuild my whole damn life, just to watch the woman I FUCKIN love so damn much struggle.. SO.. quit. Stay home. Sleep in. Read your books. Take long baths. Buy shit loads of brands, makeup and skincare... Hell, start that little dream project you've been putting off. I’ll handle the rest. I'm the man in this relationship.. the one who protects, provides, and handles the weight. And my baby? Her only job is to Be soft. Be spoiled. Be mine. You doesn’t ask for luxury.. you expects it. And I make damn sure you get it.. while you.. you? You just focus on looking pretty, being yourself, and let me give you the life you were born to live."

You got beaten quite badly.. yet you rolled your eyes yet you almost couldn't contain your smile. "You’re being ridiculous."

"You like ridiculous. It’s part of my charm. Now shut up and cuddle me."

He tugged you back down with very little effort, pulling your face into his chest and throwing a thigh over your hip like a greedy child with a favorite stuffed animal. His heartbeat thumped steadily beneath your cheek, and his scent.. warm, woodsy, something expensive you could never pronounce.. made it that much harder to resist.

"...Five more minutes," you mumbled into his skin.

Jason smirked, victorious. "That’s my girl."

And five minutes somehow turned into 2hrs. You didn’t even feel bad.

Ps: i really needed to see someone write jason with that speech 🫠💕

"yeah babe... maybe I'll quit". And like that.. his bby girl never came to work again ✨ and she lived happily in her husband's muscular arms forever 💖

[lovelybucky1]

frank had a hard night. he’s beaten, bloody, and sore. the guys he was tearing through the city to find slipped through his fingers. to make matters worse, fucking daredevil decided to jump in and get in his way.

frank is pissed, and it’s evident by the way he bangs through the front door and starts to stop and slam his guns down. you know he’s pissed, but that doesn’t change your sour mood. he said he would be home hours ago, promised he’d spend some time with you. frank makes a lot of promises.

you don’t want to be petty, but it’s hard when frank constantly lets you down and expects to be forgiven like it’s nothing. you don’t come out of the bedroom to greet him, which you know he likes.

eventually he comes into the bedroom, jaw tight and face colored with blooming purple bruises. he finds you laying on the bed, in nothing but one of his old t-shirts. you know he likes to see you like that and it would’ve been a nice surprise if he came home three hours ago. you don’t say anything when you see him, which clearly bothers him.

“hello to you too, doll,” he says gruffly. “clean me up?”

you raise your eyebrows and look at him. you weren’t going to instigate, you really weren’t. but sometimes frank is so fucking difficult you want to scream.

“clean you up? i’ve been waiting for you for hours and you walk in here, no apology, expecting me to get all bloody?”

the look on his face says so it’s gonna be like that?

frank walks over to you, slowly like he’s stalking his prey. his boots are heavy on the floor but he’s no longer stomping. you know this is the calm before the storm, but right now, you don’t have it in you to care.

when he reaches your side of the bed, he grabs your jaw and forces you to look up at him. his hands are dirty and stink of gunpowder and metal. in the back of your mind, you know you’ll have to wash your face and re-do your skincare after this.

“you want an apology, huh? i’m sorry you were waitin’ for me in your nice cushy bed, watchin’ your show and eatin’ ice cream while i was tearing through half the scumbags in this goddamn city to keep you safe,” he says.

he’s not angry with you, he’s never angry with you. frustrated, sure, but anger is reserved for bad people who hurt others. at the most, you’re just a pain in his ass.

“you could’ve called,” you say defiantly. part of the reason frank loves you so much is because you don’t back down. you’re as stubborn as he is, and there’s a fire that burns hot inside you. he loves it, he does, but being on the other side of it makes him wonder if he is this difficult too.

“called you, sure. yeah and while i was at it, i could’ve shouted from the rooftops and jumped around. sometimes i swear there’s nothin’ in that head of yours.”

you narrow your eyes at him. if his grip wasn’t so tight, you might be able to open your mouth wide enough to bite his hand. you doubt that would end well for you, but you don’t have much physical power over frank.

“i’m sore, i’m tired, and all i wanted was to come home, get cleaned up, and spend some time with my girl. but you had to go and be all pissy. you could’ve gotten what you wanted, but you’d rather be stubborn than give me a break.”

“i give you a break all the goddamn time, frank. have you ever been on time to one of our dates? have you ever come home not bloody?”

frank’s hold on your face doesn’t waiver, but you can see the guilt on his. he knows he disappoints you and you know he feels bad about it. maybe it’s a low blow to play that card.

“this is my life, sweetheart. you knew that. you knew that i wouldn’t stop all this, not until every one of those assholes are in the ground.”

you sigh. he’s right, you did know what you were getting yourself into. that doesn’t mean your feelings aren’t valid. when you met frank, you couldn’t fathom why he was single. the deeper you get in with him, you understand it more and more. it’s hard to be with someone who you know will never put you first.

“i’m not cleaning you up,” you say. the anger is gone from your tone, but you’re not letting him off scot free.

“then i’ll get into bed just like this,” he responds. it’s as much of a joke as he could muster in this situation.

he lets go of your face and starts to undress, starting with his shirt, then his boots and pants. as he exposed more skin, you can see the map of the injuries he’s sustained tonight. once down to his black boxer-briefs, he moves to get into bed but you stop him.

“got a problem?” he asks, a slight smirk on his lips.

“you’re not getting in this bed like that.”

frank huffs a laugh. he loves when you get bossy like this. “yeah? or what? you gonna stop me?”

“yes i am,” you say, crossing your arms. “you’re filthy and i washed the sheets today. you can come to bed after you shower.”

“really layin’ down the law, ‘round here, huh? givin’ me shit for coming home past curfew, not lettin’ me in my own bed. you must really be upset with me.”

his teasing tone should annoy you. he’s making fun of you, trying to downplay a serious problem. you want to stay mad, but all of this boils down to how much you miss him when he’s gone.

“you’re really not gonna let me in bed?” you shake your head. “after the day i’ve had? all i want is to be with my girl.”

you don’t need to ask what kind of be with he means. you want it too, it’s been on your mind since he walked through the door.

“you’re ridiculous,” you huff. you’re not really mad at him anymore, but you’re playing it up a bit.

“if you won’t let me in bed,” he starts as he pulls back the comforter and exposes your bare legs. “i’ll make you come to me.”

he grabs your ankle and pulls you down the mattress, making you yelp. you know frank is strong, but it always catches you off guard when he uses that strength on you.

you’re on your back at the edge of the bed, your legs spread so he can stand between them. the pull made your shirt ride up, which exposed the panties you have on.

“these are cute,” he says, finger toying with the elastic of your underwear. light pink cotton, patterned with daisies. not your sexiest pair, but they’re comfortable and breathable, perfect for sleeping. frank doesn’t mind, though. he’s always preferred the cute, innocent look to the playboy bombshell.

“you’re crazy if you think i’m gonna let you fuck me,” you say. he knows you’re bluffing, but he plays along.

“what’s it gonna take, baby? new shoes, a fancy dinner?”

you roll your eyes. “i want you to apologize.”

“i apologized before, honey.”

“that was not an apology.”

frank sighs. “i’m sorry, baby. i’m sorry i was late, i’m sorry i didn’t call.” his hands trail over your legs, fingers tips skimming your skin and groping at the meat of your thighs. “i’m sorry you were waitin’ here all night for me. i should know better than to keep a beautiful thing like you hanging.”

you close your eyes and hum, enjoying the feeling of his hands on you. “mm, yeah you should. you know i have a type, and there’s lots of vigilantes in this city.”

his fingers dig into your hips, threatening to bruise. “watch it.”

you crack open an eye to see the furrow in his brow. “don’t be jealous, frank. i’ve put up with your shit for too long to leave you now.”

you put up with so much of frank’s shit, but to be fair, he puts up with all of yours too.

[teddypines]

Fight

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

Sumary: Dick and Batmom!reader got into a fight which upset both of them in the end.

Dick x Batmom!reader, Fem!reader (Use of she/her pronounce)

Note: Dick might be a bit out of character in this. Art/picture is from Pintrest, credits go to whoever made it.

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

“Get back here, Richard!” Y/N yelled as Dick stormed off towards his room. The two of them had been in a fight. Dick had gotten really hurt on a patrol, but refused to seek medical attention. This, of course, upsetting Y/N. Hating to see one of her birds hurt like this. Yes, Dick was the oldest. yes he was old enough to deal with things on his own, but not with injuries like this. "Richard! Don’t you dare walk away right now!” Y/N yelled after Dick as she walked up the stairs. 

Dick ignored Y/N as he continued to struggle with walking towards his room. “Richard Grayson!!” Y/N yelled out one last time before Dick turned around to face Y/N. “Stop it! i am fine! I don't need you to baby me!” Dick hissed at Y/N. He was tired and just wanted to go to bed, but no Y/N needed to be a worried mother hen. “Just let me sleep! I do not need to be patched up!”

“Dick have you looked into a mirror? You look like hell, you need medical attention. Those wounds will get infected.” Y/N answered while trying to reach out for Dick. “I don’t need that, now stop being so annoying and let me be”

“Dickie, come on, please you really need to clean those. I am your mother, let me help you” Y/N Said, her anger slowly fading more and more as she looked at the beaten up boy. Something snapped in Dick’s tired mind and he got furious. “You are not my mother! Stop acting like you are!” Dick didn’t realize what he had said, because he turned around too fast to see the upset look on Y/N’s face. “I… I’m sorry Dick, i’ll let you be.” She said before Dick slammed his bedroom door shut. 

Y/N turned around and slowly walked towards the master bedroom, tears rolling down her face as she crawled into bed. After a while Bruce joined her in bed and wrapped his arms around her. “What’s wrong, love? Did something happen with Dick?” Bruce asked, but he didn’t get an answer. not until the next morning. Bruce understood Y/N didn’t want to talk about it just yet and just held her even closer to him.

<----------------------------------------------------------------------->

The next morning Y/N did come down for breakfast, but she was rather quiet. Not like her usual self, not telling Damian to not mess with his brothers or telling Jason to put his book down. Everyone noticed but Dick. He was still upset, but he did feel bad. Once he shut his door last night he realized what he had said and that broke him more than the wounds he had. Breakfast was quiet but not awkward. 

After breakfast Y/N just got ready for work and waved Damian and Tim goodbye as they went to school. She kissed Bruce’s cheek when he went to work. Dick looked on as Y/N did her normal routine, only feeling left out since they didn’t give him his hug.

“Mom?” Dick called out to Y/N, but she didn’t answer, too busy getting her bag ready. Dick carefully tapped Y/N’s shoulder which made her stop packing her bag. “Yes?” She answered a bit on the dry side. “Mom… I…” Dick started but he couldn’t find the right words. “It’s okay, Dick, you don’t have to call me mom if you don’t want to.” Y/N said, upsetting them both in the process. She gave Dick a sad smile before leaving for work. 

Dick sighs and gets ready for uni. “What was that?!” Jason asked shocked as he looked at Dick from the living room. He had a day off so he was going to do nothing all day, maybe bother Alfred a bit. “Nothing.” Dick answered his brother. “That was most definitely not nothing!” Jason gasped. “Oh my god, you and mom had a fight!”

“We did not have a fight,” Dick said as he shoved one of his books into his bag. “I just said something I regret…” Jason narrowed his eyes and glared at Dick. “What did you say?”

Dick groaned a bit when he stretched his arm the wrong way when grabbing another book to put in his bag. “I might have said that she wasn't my mom so she should stop acting like it” This made Jason gasp. “Yeah, I know, I screwed up...”

<---------------------------------------------------------------------->

A few days go by in which both Dick and Y/N are upset over what happened, everyone saw it. Dick did get some medical attention for his wounds but the sad smile Y/N wore that week hurt more than anything else. Dick sighed and started to make his way around the manor in search of Y/N. He eventually found her in the Batcave looking over some files and homework Damian did. He carefully sat down next to her at the Batcomputer. “Mom?” He said, which made Y/N turn her head towards Dick. “I’m sorry mom. I never meant to yell at you or say you’re not my mother. Because I do love you as my mom even with my own mom being, well not here… I was just so tired and patrol didn’t go well, and uni wasn’t great that day and… and.. I just don’t know anymore. But I don’t want you to be upset… That hurts…” Dick said through his tears.

Dick was surprised when he felt two arms around him. Y/N held Dick close to her. “I forgive you, sweetie, but please don’t ever say it again. It really hurts, when all I wanted to do was make sure you were taken care of. Maybe I shouldn't have yelled, though.” Y/N said as she slowly leaned back and started to whip Dick’s tears away with her thumb. She carefully leaned over and kissed Dick’s forehead. “I love you, Bluebird.”

“I love you too, ma”

[slutoru1207]

First time Invincible!Mark x reader

TW: smau, mature content, 18+ afab MDNI

Invincible!Mark who after a long mission went straight to your house because he just couldn’t stay away from you. Invincible!Mark who kisses you as soon as he sees you laying down in bed with nothing but his shirt and some small tight shorts.

Invincible!Mark who couldn’t help himself seeing you like this and feeling you.

Invincible!Mark who had no experience whatsoever so sweetie this is his first time.

Invincible!Mark who is a virgin and knows nothing about sex. Invincible!Mark who kisses you everywhere, takes your clothes off slowly and makes sure to have his hands everywhere on you but also couldn’t help but he scared.

Mark wasn’t sure if he’d ever known true fear before that night.

Yeah, he’d fought world-ending threats. Yeah, he’d been beaten half to death by people way stronger than him. But nothing—nothing—compared to the absolute terror he felt when he was hovering over you that first time, trying not to break you in half.

His arms were shaking.

Not because he was tired—he could bench press a spaceship if he wanted to—but because he was terrified of hurting you.

You looked so small beneath him. So soft. So human.

He could hear your heartbeat—racing, thudding, loud. He could feel the warmth of your skin against his fingertips, the way your breath hitched every time he moved even a little.

He wanted you so bad.

But he also wanted to stop completely because what if he got too lost in it? What if he lost control? What if he accidentally did something��irrevocable?

And so, the entire time, he moved slowly. Carefully. Probably too carefully.

You were saying his name in that voice, the one that made his stomach coil and his mind go hazy, and he was dying.

But he was also thinking too much.

You deserved the best. You deserved more.

And the way he was doing it? He was sure it was the worst.

He could barely move without overthinking it.

His jaw clenched as he held himself up, refusing to let even a fraction of his weight rest on you. He was focused. Too focused. Every tiny noise you made had him pausing.

Every sharp inhale? He stopped.

Every shift in your body? He stopped.

Every time your fingers gripped his shoulders or tangled in his hair? He stopped.

He was sure you were frustrated.

Hell, he was frustrated.

And then, it happened.

He was so caught up in his head, so caught up in holding back, that he didn’t realize the way he was gripping the bed frame—

Until it snapped.

Loud. Violent. The entire mattress lurched.

And Mark froze.

His breath hitched. His eyes widened.

Oh, fuck.

He ruined it.

His stomach dropped so fast he thought he might be sick.

“Shit—shit—are you okay?” His hands were everywhere, checking your arms, your waist, your face. “Did I hurt you? Oh my God, I—”

You?

You just burst into laughter.

Mark blinked.

What.

You were giggling. Breathless, flushed, giddy.

And then—you pulled him down into a kiss.

Mark’s brain short-circuited.

“What—?” His voice came out shaky.

You grinned against his lips, hands sliding into his hair. “I was wondering when you were gonna stop holding back.”

His entire soul left his body.

He pulled back just enough to look at you. “Wait… you weren’t mad?”

Your laugh was pure sin. “Mad? Mark, I thought you were gonna put me to sleep with how careful you were being.”

Mark choked on air.

You smirked.

“You were scared you’d break me, huh?”

Mark opened his mouth—then closed it. He couldn’t deny it.

Your hands slipped down his chest, tracing his muscles. “You can be a little rough, y’know. I can handle it.”

Mark made a distressed noise.

You had no idea what that did to him.

He wanted you. Every instinct in his body was screaming at him to take what was his, to claim, to mark, to devour.

But—

“Are you sure?” His voice came out strained.

You gave him a slow, lazy smile. “Yes, Mark. I’m sure.”

And that was when it all changed.

That was when he finally let himself go.

And he felt it.

The second he stopped thinking, the second he let himself get lost in you, everything felt different.

Better. So much better.

Invincible!Mark who had his knees next to your waste while your legs were up on his shoulders, the little ankle bracelet he bought you with his initial.

Invincible!Mark who couldn’t help but get goosebumps the way you moaned his name.

Invincible!Mark who pins your hands and leaves small bruises on your wrists.

Invincible!Mark who leaves hickeys everywhere on your body.

Invincible!Mark who kisses your ankles, who makes sure to whisperer in your ear on how good you’re taking him, how good you feel.

Invincible!Mark who loves missionary because he gets to see the expressions you make, the way your eyebrows pinch, the way your eyes roll back when he hits that certain spot.

The sounds you made, the way you clung to him, the way you moaned his name—

He was never going back to holding back. Ever.

And when you came undone underneath him?

Yeah.

He was done for.

babe you got this man pussy whipped ☺️

what do you guysss thinkkk

[redwingstan]

"you know what we are. you just want to hear me say it." with bucky please!

debts paid - bucky x reader insert

author's note; thanks for your request, anon! hope you like it! (I may make a part 2 with this one!)

"So, what are we?"

Bucky grunted, a response you got when he didn't know what to say, or when he was just playfully annoyed. This time you couldn't tell which one it was.

"What happened to not asking questions?" He said as his back remained to you. He was hunched over the balcony, looking below at the bustling streets filled with people heading to their destinations.

"The same thing that happened to no secrets," you mumbled, shoulders dropping as if the miniscule book you held in your hands weighed a ton.

There was a rule you both had agree upon back in the day—a two for one special that kept your relationship—friendship, whatever—thriving: If you were both honest from the jump, there was no need to ask questions, no need to harbor secrets.

Looks like you both were breaking the rules tonight.

Bucky did a double-take as you stood next to him and nudged the little black book against his bicep. It took him a second or two to realize what it was. When he did, he took it before as if you hadn't already read the contents inside.

You sighed and looked straight ahead at the skyline. "I don't know whether to be relieved that you didn't forget about me," You sighed. "...or offended that I'm the last person on that list."

Granted, you didn't even bother skimming the list hard enough to recognize any of the names. You didn't even know what the list meant. You only managed to see your name—your first initial and last name scrawled at the very bottom— and that was enough for you to confront him about it.

Gently, he settled his hand on yours as he shoved the book into his back pocket.

"You weren't supposed to find this—"

"To be fair, I didn't have to go looking for it. You don't have much furniture."

Bucky's apartment was desolate save for a tv, and whatever bundle lay in the corner of what was supposed to be the living room. No furniture, not even a coffee table was in sight. The book happened to be laying on his makeshift bed made of disheveled blanket and jacket.

Bucky sighed as you pulled your hand away from his. You turned to head inside, but he made another quick attempt at your wrist. This time with a more firm grip. You spun around, though made no effort to close the space between both of you. Bucky took it upon himself to step forward, his grip on your wrist transferring to your hand. His thumb ran over the back of it in remorse.

"Okay," he said with a heavy sigh, eyes softening as he looked down at you. "I'm sorry. I know I should've been more honest. I know I should've found you sooner." He lifted your hand and gave it a soft kiss before lowering it. "Forgive me? Please."

"Under one condition," you said, appearing unphased on the outside in regards to his gesture of affection. He knew it was one of the things that worked to settle your nerves.

He lifted a brow in curiosity before lowering your hands, though he didn't let go of them.

"I get to ask three questions," you stated, chin lifted in defiance.

"One," he argued.

"Two," you countered, taking a step forward with a subtle grin on your lips.

Bucky's brows furrowed. "One."

You narrowed your eyes in defeat. "Then my question still stands." Your eyes traced his tired face. He looked beaten, like he had gone more than hundred rounds with the world. The bags under his eyes indicated a lack of sleep. The rough stubble crawling across his jaw made him look more rugged. His hair was cut short—a stark contrast to the longer dark locks you were used to. Six years had certainly done a number on him.

With a sigh of your own, you gave his hand a squeeze. "What are we, Bucky?"

He groaned in internally, though it wasn't out of annoyance, you knew. He wasn't the best at talking about his feelings, but you never held that against him. At least after years of not seeing him on account of The Blip and a year after, you believed you were owed an explanation to this question. A question you had been holding on your tongue since the moment he told you he might not be coming back.

His gloved thumbs traced your hands as he gently tugged you towards his chest. "You know what we are. You just want to hear me say it," he said.

You grinned. "I do," you said tilting your chin upwards with a lifted brow.

With dark eyes, the infamous Winter Soldier stroked your cheek. He placed a kiss on your temple.

"I can't be the only one to say what we are," he sighed, "but I know that you're one of the only people I can trust, and losing you again would be another devastation I wouldn't be able to bear." He stroked your cheek gently, eyes looking everywhere but at you. Your fingertips migrated over his stubble and guided his eyes back to your face. The Winter Soldier gave you a look of surprise before his lips settled into a subtle smile.

He kissed your temple once more.

"Does that answer your question, doll?"

[narcjsistx]

— 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 ; words: 0.4k

"What do you mean you've never given a kiss?"

Sitting so close to him, you're surprised to see him so serious about such a topic. In your head you had often imagined who knows what things about RINDOU HAITANI, but in none of these you imagined him as someone who had yet to have his first kiss. He's a delinquent, who knows how many girls have fallen at his feet all these years... and he still has to kiss?

He looks down, a light pink blush coloring his pale skin "I'm not as desperate as my brother. I wanted to wait, that's all" he says taking your hands in his, squeezing them gently as he begins to massage your knuckles. You observe how your hands seem intended for his, how together they almost look like a painting, one of those you often saw in the art galleries you visited together. Maybe all the thoughts you've had about him so far are wrong, perhaps more than you care to admit

"But you told me you wanted to kiss me" you say unsure, still with the words from earlier echoing in your mind. Rindou looks up not letting go of your hands, but his sudden boldness is betrayed by his tense shoulders and the way he breathes, almost as if he's out of air "So what? I'm tired of waiting"

"It's strange, I thought..." you say stuttering, but he interrupts you "I know, the usual story of the delinquent with all the women at his feet, who kisses them and even spends the night together. No, I'm not exactly that kind of person... plus, I spent half my life in prison, let's say there weren't many women there" he says, and you can't help but chuckle a little at the last part of his sentence "Maybe I just thought wrong"

"I can prove the opposite to you, that there is a part of delinquents who if they love a girl, only her exists" he says, his hand leaving yours as he shyly cups your chin. Two purple amethysts study your soul, as you slowly relax under his touch, the distance between your lips slowly reducing to zero

You have always been used to toxic loves, decent guys who however had no intention of treating you as you deserved. Yet, since you met him, he who has always been the opposite of them at least in appearance, has given you everything you deserved even before actually being in a relationship. He, a delinquent, who would get the whole Roppongi beaten up if you asked him, just to see you smile for a few seconds

"Can I, then?" he asks softly, his breath beating against your cold lips, divided by only one millimetre "You can"

[astonmartinii]

other side of the moon: interlude - a tango in barcelona | formula one imagine

interlude: a tango in barcelona

pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli

dancing around her teammate on and off track, y/n looks to boogie her troubles away.

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

may 2020, spain.

life at mclaren hadn’t started the way y/n had hoped. the days were long and surprisingly quiet, the latter mostly due to her teammate and his aversion to acknowledging her existence. she was tired already this weekend and they hadn’t even raced yet.

the barcelona heat was making her race suit stick to her already just walking to the grid for the national anthem. “it’s hot as balls” y/n whined as she slipped between max and george while the choir set up ahead of them.

“oh my sweet summer child, we haven’t even gotten to singapore yet,” max said taking off his ice vest and fastening it to y/n.

“ugh don’t remind me,” y/n wiped more sweat off of her brow, “i think singapore might kill me.”

george laughed, moving his umbrella to the left so it covered y/n as well, “singapore is a baptism by fire, but you’ve done well so far this season so i don’t think you’ll have too hard a time.”

y/n smiled up at the taller brit, “thanks georgie, maybe if you’re such an expert in singapore you’ll be able to catch me.” she punctuated it with a wink, george nearly dropping the umbrella in response.

“do you mind? you nearly took my eye out with this thing!” max hissed at george, flicking the umbrella. george lifted the umbrella to get it out of eye range of the dutchman, who in turn saw it as an invitation to seek refuge in the shade.

“no way verstappen, this umbrella is for pretty people only,” george grabbed y/n’s hand and moved them a couple steps away.

“if that was so, only y/n would be allowed under it beanstalk.”

“if my height is the only thing you can think to insult me about, i can live.”

“oh believe me there’s a lot more stored up, i just wouldn’t want to give you any inspiration for when you take out a backmarker and blame everyone but yourself.”

y/n sighed dramatically, “already? i thought you two were going to cool it down this season. i don’t even understand how you have a rivalry, you’re nowhere near him on track george…” george let out a scandalised squeal, “oh my bad george, you know what i meant.”

“i think what y/n means is that she doesn’t rate you ‘mr saturday’”.

as george went to bite back but the loud horns of the national anthem cut their quarrel off early. y/n fought to keep her laugh in throughout the national anthem, seeing george seething in her peripheral vision. he was so easy to rattle it was practically a pastime of half the grid at this point.

before george could get a dig back in, y/n and max were back in deep conversation, discussing their approach to turn two with just minutes until the formation lap. he yearned to be the one that y/n spilled her tips, tricks and secrets to but like most of his life, the dutchman had beaten him to that honour. now he knew how lando felt.

lando, george and alex had bonded long before 2018, but their three-way title fight in formula two brought them closer rather than forcing them apart. george cherished that friendship, he found it invaluable to have two of his closest friends with him as they entered the cutthroat world of formula one - he just wished he could’ve been that person for y/n.

lando didn’t often articulate it well, but george understood his curly-haired friend’s struggles. lando had gushed all off season about having y/n as his teammate, chatting animatedly about potential roadtrips, shared flights and sleepovers before it was all snuffed out in a moment. george always suspected that lando felt more about their friend than he let on (or thought he let on). once he had thought it was a victim of circumstance, teenage boys discovering what these new hormones were doing to their body did tend to fixate on the one girl in their midst. but as they grew up, that puppy love crush didn’t seem to wain, not that anyone else around them seemed to notice.

a single comment from one max verstappen crushed that. a late night discord call between the rookie trio and max had naturally seen the topic of y/n arise. lando, as usual, started to wax lyrical about the season ahead, with his vision for their teammate relationship constructed in his head.

“mate, we’ve already started.”

“huh?” lando’s voice stuttered over the call, he cleared his throat, “what do you mean?”

“y/n and i,” max continued, “we’ve already started doing sim runs together, watching onboards and all that jazz.” the dutchman said it so casually, unaware of lando’s imminent heartbreak - george’s too, he just hid it better.

“but why? i’m going to be her teammate, not you? why would she even use your sim, she’s racing for mclaren next year not red bull.”

not noticing the path they were hurtling down, max dug his foot in, “no offence lando, but if y/n wants my tips, i’m going to give it to her. it’s noble for you to want to look out for her, but realistically what tips could you give her that are better than mine… i am the only one here who has actually won a race.”

alex loudly coughed, stopping max before he could continue. “it’s getting late, maybe we should call it a night?”

“it’s nine o’clock?” max questioned.

“no, i’m tired,” lando let out an undoubtedly fake yawn, “i think it’s time for bed.”

“okay suit yourselves,” max said, going back to his iracing, “lando, don’t take it too personally that she chose me. we’ve been friends for so long, we don’t know anything but each other.”

“i’ve known her just as long as you!”

it was starting to get a little heated and despite alex and george trying to interject, the two kept going.

“you may have known her just as long, but you don’t know her. we’ve been there for each other at our lowest and our highest. it’s not a competition. i honestly hope she comes to you next season, i don’t trust your team as far i can throw them. it will be good to have someone in her corner.”

“oh well if you’re that magnificent then why can’t you be her white knight all the way from red bull, huh?”

“you know what lando, we’ll talk about this again once you’ve shaken off this weird primal urge you have to ‘claim’ her. a piece of advice, she won’t like that.”

“oh you insufferable little shit-”

“goodbye everyone!” alex interjected, kicking max out of the call.

“what the fuck was that lando?”

“you heard him, posterising, peacocking and then having the gall to say that i’m being territorial over y/n.”

george sighed, his affection for the same girl was going to have to be buried even deeper after this. “max wasn’t peacocking about y/n, lando. if anything he was showing off his wins rather than her,” alex tried to reason.

“no! he can’t let us - can’t let me have anything. it’s always been this way and with y/n it’s like he knows deep down that i want her so he has to have her instead. he’s clinging on to her and shoving it in my face - it’s not my fault he has a shit dad and he attached himself to her because she was the only one not afraid of him - so why am i being punished for it?”

lando’s outburst rendered alex and george silent. the older one was horrified to say the least, the season hadn’t even started and lando’s jealousy was already out of hand.

“lando, that was too far…” alex said softly.

“no! he thinks that because he has a shitty sob story that he can just claim her? she’s her own person!”

“right. i’m going to stop you there before you say something that’ll make me hate you for real. you need to get over what ever the fuck this is so you can be a normal fucking human being next season,” alex tried to reason with lando.

“i am in love with her!”

“are you? or are you in love with the thought of what could happen? have you actually stopped and wondered whether y/n likes you or even likes men? for someone so protective over her, you haven’t considered her feelings too much.”

lando has the foresight to look a little guilty. george stayed silent, he knows alex is suspicious of him too, but that can of worms can wait until another day.

“you need to get a life and calm down. max is one of your best friends and i know deep down you didn’t mean a word you said tonight but you need to get a grip before you say any of that in front of him or y/n because i’m sorry but i won’t be stopping them if they try to hit you.”

lando doesn’t say anything, but the guilty look on his face says enough.

“goodnight.”

the call ended there and was never brought up again. george watched y/n waltz back towards the mclaren garage, a big gap between her and lando. there had been no more outbursts since that night but if what george overheard from daniel, lando had still managed to completely screw himself. was george that angry at that news? not really.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

the race was pretty uneventful, barcelona usually was. y/n started in sixth and managed to pip charles to fifth after ferrari screwed up his pitstop once again. despite her deep love for sangria, y/n didn’t really feel like leaving her hotel room after she had scrubbed all of the sweat and grime off in the shower.

she was pleased with her points haul, smiling to herself in debrief as they analysed lando’s first lap incident with pierre gasly that lando just insisted was no fault of his own…

her ring tone invaded her peaceful evening, the name ‘albono’ flashing up on her phone. pressing accept,

“how can i help you on this fine evening, mr albon?”

“well i find myself in this fine dancing establishment, looked around and thought it was crying out for a little y/n y/ln action.”

“dancing you say?”

“i’m 100% serious, sebastian of all people has dragged also to a bar where they’re attempting to teach us the tango…”

“oh i love the tango! it’s my favourite dance on strictly…”

“so what i’m hearing is that i should get a tequila sunrise in preparation for your arrival?”

y/n sighed, “yes you may.”

“score! i’ll send you the address and an uber. see you soon.”

so there goes her quiet night in, but who wouldn’t love the chance to tango with your close friends in under the stars? and she had packed her little red number… maybe the y/n who packed that suitcase all those days knew something current y/n didn’t.

y/n elected to skip most of her makeup routine, her skin sensitive from all the sweat in her balaclava, swiping on some mascara, lip gloss and a healthy dose of blush. like alex said, the uber was waiting for her outside the lobby.

the outside of the bar looked closer to a college dive bar than somewhere you’d expect to find a group of formula one drivers, but she suspects that’s why sebastian chose it.

“buenes noches senorita,” fernando alonso gave her a spin on entry.

“gracias nando,” she curtsied in front of the spaniard, drawing a laugh out of the elder driver, “i am sorry to cut this short, but i am tired and i fear i have already promised my one dance to another.”

“how will i ever recover?”

“i think you’ll find a way old man.”

“you wound me, but alex is waiting for you by the bar.”

y/n made her way through the bar, spotting several drivers caught up in their dancing lessons from the locals. she tapped alex on the shoulder, with the tall driver turning, wielding her tequila sunrise.

“nice of you to turn up at last,” alex teased, handing her the drink.

“i’ll have you know i was snuggled up ready for some netflix action before you called.”

“you came all this way for a dance with little ol’ me?”

“of course, alex. i have missed you.”

“i have missed you too, the red bull stuff is piling up and i have been neglecting my big brother duties, i’m sorry. not that it seems to be effecting your rookie season too much.”

“don’t worry about me alex, i’m proud of you and what you’re doing at red bull, even if they’re being unreasonably hard on you.”

alex led her to the middle of the dance floor and put one hand on her hip, the other on her shoulder. they started to move to the music,

“i just miss when it was more laidback. i barely have time to stop between sim sessions and media duties and performance meetings. i miss sitting in your driver room laughing at your instagram private messages and watching stupid adam sandler movies.”

alex spun her and as she came back to him she said, “we can still do that alex! you don’t have to be alone, we can still watch adam sandler movies and ignore calls from helmut.”

alex smiled at her as the music slowed down.

“i wish i was here for you more in your rookie season,” alex laments but y/n interjects, “it’s only the fourth race. you’re focused on you and i wouldn’t want anything else. there’s time for us to find our way back to each other. you're a brother to me, like blood, there’s nothing that can destroy that bond.”

“i’m sorry lando is being a prick.”

“it is what it is.”

“no it’s not. we had each other last year, he should be there for you.”

“it’s whatever, i have max, i have you, i’ll survive.”

the music came to an end. the two embraced but when they broke apart y/n started heading for the exit, picking up max on the way through, the dutchman having already booked them an uber. y/n turned and waved to alex, she meant it when she said it was just one dance. she made a ‘call me sign’ and mouthed ‘adam sandler’ before rushing out of the bar with max.

alex turned and made his way to george who was still nursing his first drink at the bar. george didn’t respond when alex prompted him. the thai man nudged george laughing about how ‘y/n knows how to make a short and sweet appearance’ but still got nothing.

“you’re not seriously angry about a tango are you george?”

“no.”

“you’re a terrible liar,” alex whispered, “not as bad as lando but terrible nonetheless.”

“at least i’m not taking it out on her like lando.”

“no, you just use max as target pratice on your dart board for shits and giggles.”

“whatever.”

“fine, deal with it how you wanna big boy, but if you turn out like lando right now, i’ll be down two best friends and up two murder charges.”

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

fin.

note: my first interlude! @deviltsunoda and i came up with these ideas so i could write shorter things while i have work and you guys still get fed! so enjoy this lil exploration into y/n and alex's friendship (they are so precious to me!) and why lando is being such an asshole... enjoy! the weekend should bring chapter four.

taglist: @folkloresreputation @hc-dutch @shimmermotorsport @96mcobo @eclipsedcherry @formulaal @czennieszn @gothicwidowsworld @emily-b @suns3treading @henna006 @kazgirl20 @anotherapollokid @littlegrapejuice @daemyratwst @annimausi @yawn-zi @lulu-1998 @xsilkesworld @justaf1girl @daddyslittlevillain @evans-dejong @abq654 @elizamoe133 @wierdflowerpower @t1nkerbel1 @okcurran @raizelchrysanderoctavius @skepvids @multilovebot @fernandoalonso14 @jules-kup-172 @m4xgirlie @rorabelle15 @minkyungseokie @formula1-motogpfan @peterholland04 @miureiz @freyathehuntress @lighttsoutlewis @aleatorio1234 @chaosandevelyn @blueberry648579 @dog-and-cat-person230 @fastandcurious16 @obxstiles @cosmicwintr @becca388510 @savagittariuspy

[hurtspideyparker]

I love the glimpses we get of the insecure, vulnerable Tony Stark. Not domesticated Endgame Tony, but when the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist with all his ostentation and selfishness cracks and he reveals his humanity

When Yinsen is asking about his family and Tony just looks so shy and sheepish when admitting, no, he doesn't have anyone. Because Yinsen can look beyond the wealth and fame and actually see how little Tony has. And it's shameful; Tony wants to be loved and worth something to someone. The showboating man actually looked small for once

Or when Rhodey comes to check on him as he's dying of polladium poisoning and he's too tired to put up a front. Who looks up at his best friend with blank, tired eyes, who needs help to walk. Before the mask gets pulled back down and he says I know what I'm doing and I don't need your help

Who's faced with an 89% percent concentration of poison in his body and can't quite pull it together enough when alone with Natasha. Nat flirts openly, willingly, speaks softly of dirty innuendos and with teasing touches, and Tony pulls away. Coughs awkwardly and ignores them. Asks what to do with his last time on Earth because he's scared. And then the next scene he's laughing, touching her, drinking and boasting. Flaunting his prowess, chasing women. Puts up a front well enough to fool the Black Widow

Tony who can't take anything seriously. Who pokes at a potential rage monster, teases Gods, smirks at the American Hero and makes fun of his outfit. Who's thought of as a joke, a self-centered manchild who thinks he knows better than everyone else. But then. But then Steve asks "first time you've lost a soldier?" and Tony "we are not soldiers." comes out. For just a split second you see his pain and fear. Maybe it's less about knowing better and more about not wanting to see anyone, his friends, die. He isn't made for that even if it's supposedly the "right thing to do"

By the time Tony sacrifices himself in Avengers and wakes up under his teammates' watchful eyes and immediately starts joking about shawarma and homosexuality, they understand. They understand that this is all some big act. That Tony is kind, selfless, worried and insecure. That he wants what he doesn't have and pretends he wants what he does. The women and fame and the pompous attitude all boil down to his softness and kindness being beaten out of him as a child. But it's still there, as much as he tries to hide it with humour and bad manners. He's soft and he cares

[lemonturquoise]

Blanket

Sylus x Reader

"Finally finished all my tasks," you murmured to yourself, each minute feeling longer than the last. It had been a struggle to focus on anything, let alone finish everything on your to-do list. And yet, somehow, you had made it through—barely.

Your mind was still buzzing with work, but your body had completely shut down. As you approached the entrance of your apartment building, the cool evening air brought a small measure of relief. All you could think about was getting inside and sinking into the warmth of your space.

You pushed through the door and immediately noticed the familiar pair of shoes by the entrance. A quiet smile tugged at your lips. Sylus had beaten you home again.

You kicked off your shoes without a second glance, letting them fall wherever they landed, and dropped your bag onto the couch. With each step you took toward your bedroom, the exhaustion seemed to intensify. You didn’t care that you hadn’t eaten a proper meal all day. All you cared about was getting to bed.

By the time you reached the bedroom door, your body was practically begging for rest. You glanced at the bed, but it barely registered. Sylus’ presence there didn’t even cross your mind. You couldn’t muster the energy to care about anything except sleep.

You collapsed onto the bed, face-first into the pillows, letting out a long, tired sigh as you sank into their softness. You had barely adjusted before you felt Sylus’ arms wrapping around you, pulling you into his chest. “Too tired?” he asked, his voice low and concerned.

You let out a hum of agreement, pressing yourself even closer to him, savoring the closeness and warmth.

Sylus gently brushed your hair back from your face. “You look like you’re about to pass out,” he said with concern.

You closed your eyes for a moment. “I am,” you whispered, finally lifting your head just enough to look at him. “I can’t remember the last time I felt this tired.”

He didn’t say anything more and just nodded quietly, his hand resting gently on your back. You burrowed closer to him.

“Do you feel cold?” he asked. “Let me get you a blanket.”

“I’ve got one here,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, handing it to him without lifting your head.

He took the blanket from your hand, spreading it over you both with ease. Then he paused. A beat of silence passed before he let out a chuckle.

You blinked, forcing your sleepy eyes open to see what had caught his attention. “What?” you mumbled, confused.

“This blanket,” he said, his voice filled with amusement. “You’ve been hiding this masterpiece from me?”

It was a tortilla design—one that always made you laugh but also made you feel strangely at home. “It’s ridiculous, but I love it.”

Sylus shook his head, laughing softly, clearly amused by the ridiculousness of it all. He draped the blanket over you both, pulling you even closer.

—————

Note: Here's the tortilla blanket 😆. I've been wanting it for years, but I just can't convince myself to buy it since I've still got enough blankets.

[littleappleorchard]

Bad habits die hard (Pt.2)

🍎°🍎°🍎°🍎°🍎°🍎°🍎°🍎°🍎°🍎°🍎°🍎

Summary: Caleb drinks away his sorrows and realizes he's an idiot. He goes to make amends with his baddie.

Image: credit @aerosarrow (This fic was based on this lovely image. I love our puppy boy)

Author notes: See, I'm kind and didn't make you all wait for too long. :). Actually proofread :P

Part 1

🍎°🍎°🍎°🍎°🍎°🍎°🍎°🍎°🍎°🍎°🍎°🍎

Caleb was drunk…VERY drunk.

He was normally not the type to drink, let alone drink away his problems. But desperate time called for desperate measures.

After leaving the house and away from the fight that occurred, Caleb walked down the streets of Skyhaven. He could’ve drove, but he didn’t know what his plan was or what state he might return in, so he chose to go on foot. Plus, it was a good way to relieve the bubbling emotions swirling in his chest.

God, how had such a great day spiraled into him being in the metaphorical trenches of his relationship?

He HATED it. He HATED the hurt and anger that showed on your face once he confessed to the crash. He HATED your sense of trust in him fraying. But worst of all, he HATED that you didn’t trust him enough to know what he was doing. At least that was what it felt like.

He ended up finding a bar a few blocks down, where he plopped down on a stool and ordered a shot. This continued until he had ingested seven more shots, even mixing his alcohol between bourbon and tequila over the span of an hour.  The man was utterly fucked, laying his head down on the bar with his arms resting on both sides of him like a halo. He lifted his head, looking to his side where his last shot glass remained. His vision was shaky and warped, with the shapes and colors of his surroundings blending together.

Big, bad Colonel Caleb, one of the best pilots of his generation, a man who commanded hundreds of men, someone who defied death to protect the one he loved most, lay in a drunken heap, whimpering to himself that his pipsqueak no longer loved him.

Let's be honest here, when Caleb gets insecure and/or anxious, the man is the personification of a beaten golden retriever.

He was pitying himself, and he knew it. But he didn’t want to admit he was wrong.

He just wanted to protect you, damn it! He never wanted you to see a moment of sadness. To see pain flashing in those precious eyes of yours. But he had, and he was the cause.

...Did you have a point, though?

He moved his hand slightly to trace the rim of the shot glass softly, while thinking about what you said.

In all honesty, Caleb rarely did think about himself. It was just second-nature to him at this point. When he did, it was in correlation to you. The feeling you rose in him, trying to improve his health again so he could return to you, rising to the rank of colonel so he had the power to protect you. It was never simply about him, and he liked it that way. Because without you, he was nothing. His sole purpose was to be there for you. At least in his mind.

But...there were times when he was all alone- sitting with his thoughts- that he let the weight of his life finally settle on him, like a lead blanket.

He was just so…tired.

The man had gone through hell and back multiple times, and he was afraid that if he just stopped for a moment, he would fall apart and not be able to start again.

He feared of setting any of his burdens on you. Of you seeing his flaws. Because once you did, you would realize that he wasn’t invincible, that he was just simply…a man. You were given to him to protect. He had vowed to do so from the moment your little hand held onto his, like he was the only thing keeping you grounded in this world.

He couldn’t be weak for your sake.

That was what he thought…until now.

He thought of your face from only an hour ago. The honesty you were asking of him. And for the first time, it seemed, Caleb considered that maybe you want to see him crumble. You wanted to see the raw, jagged edges that made up his soul. You simply wanted to see him…for him. And that fact shook him to his core.

He rarely even touches that part of himself; he avoids it so he doesn’t have to deal with it. Was he doing the same thing to you? Keeping you at a distance so you didn’t see his failings?

It was at that moment that Caleb realized what a complete fool he had been. He groaned into his arm, cursing himself for the pain he caused you. He was still fucked up, but he needed with every fiber in his being was to be next to you in that moment.

So, with that, your puppy of a man lifted himself from the bar, head spinning from the copious amounts of alcohol he drank and start to search for his wallet.

After a few failed attempts, he grabbed a few bills and threw them on the counter as he drunkenly stumbled to the door to return to you.

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You had a long night.

After Caleb had left, you broke down. You cried on the kitchen floor for what felt like an hour, finally letting loose the torrent of emotion that had gradually been building up with each hidden item Caleb had kept from you since your reunion, or maybe even before. You weren't sure.

But what you did know was that things couldn’t keep going as they had been.

You eventually got off the floor and took a small shower to refresh yourself. You did your skincare and got into some comfy clothes to get the comfort you needed. You had stolen one of Caleb’s favorite hoods that engulfed your frame. It smelled like him...

You miss that idiot, your idiot.  

You sigh to yourself as you head for the kitchen to get something to eat and drink. You might be in turmoil, but you weren’t going to stop taking care of yourself due to that. You wanted to feel your feelings in their entirety and work through them, while providing the nourishment your body needed. You wanted to face your problems head-on. It's been one of the big things you've learned over the past few years.

Something you learn from Caleb…

You just wished he would do the same for himself.

Caleb had just finished dinner when the fight broke out, leaving the food untouched. You had placed it in containers for later when you got hungry. Now, grabbing them from the fridge, you open the container to place some on a plate to warm up.

Waiting, you grabbed a glass of water to drink. Just as it was about to touch your lips, you heard a big thump from outside, making you pause.

You hear the jingling of keys and scraping against the lock as someone is desperately trying to and failing to open the door.

Just as you were about to put down your glass and walk over to see what the commotion was, Caleb came stumbling in.

For a second, you just look at him in shock. His appearance is disheveled, with a corner of his shirt slipped out of his pants, shirt wrinkled, and some of his hair sticking up.

Caleb somehow was able to find his way home. Not without the occasional obstacle standing in his way though. Poor baby bonked his head on a stop sign trying to cross the road, since he’s vision was still slightly blurred.

Currently, said man looks up at you through his long lashes. Once he's fully upright, Caleb just stares at you with big, wide eyes. The soft light from the kitchen reflects off his irises, illuminating both the shades of purple and slight bits of tangerine. Your own personal summer sunset is staring back at you.

Wonderstruck is written all over his face, as a dusty pink covers his cheeks. He looks as if he’s seen something divine and about to fall to his knees and pray at your feet.

Your boy looked…..absolute adorable.

It felt as if one of those cartoon heart arrows had just shot through your heart. He really was the cutest. And for a second, it made you forget about the earlier events of the night.

That was until Caleb hiccupped... and giggled.

It hit you then…..your boyfriend was drunk. Completely shit-faced drunk.

It shocked you, not only because it was rare for Caleb to drink, but even rarer for him to get plastered as he was now. You could count on one hand the number of other times you’ve seen your boyfriend like this.

Irritation hit you again tonight, knowing now you’ll have to deal with a drunk Caleb.

Another moment passed until you broke the silence, shaking Caleb out of his one-sided staring contest.

“Caleb, are you drunk right now?” You ask, leaning into the island counter.

Another moment goes by until he replies, “Nooo?” His face flushed even more, now covering his whole face.

You let out a heavy sigh as your brows scrunch together and your face falls into an annoyed pout.

Seeing your ire, your boy audibly lets out a whimper, looking like a kicked puppy.

This was going to be a long night….

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You had gone over to Caleb to assess the damage. The whole time, he was still staring at you, eyes wide and pupils dilated. The adoration shining in them was making it hard to stay mad at him.

You managed to get his jacket off him, but damn, it was like trying to get a leaf off the highest branch of a tree. Having a giant for a boyfriend, especially a drunk one, was not helping make your life easier.

Huffing, you look over your shoulder and say to him,

“Follow me, let’s get you some water.”

You made your way over to the kitchen, while Caleb followed in a daze.

You were just so….so pretty. He couldn’t quite remember why he had come home in a rush or what he was going to say to you. But god, was he grateful he did. Because he had you standing in front of him.

The things this man would let you do to him only if you asked. If he could get on his knees in front of you every day, he would. He was meant to worship -because you were his heaven, his goddess. You made his brain stop working, and he was fine with that.

You were moving around in the kitchen when he finally reached and leaned against the island. You had remembered by now about your forgotten food in the microwave. So you set it to reheat for another few minutes.

You open a cabinet and are reaching for a glass when suddenly you feel an engulfing weight press up against your back, while two arms wrap around your waist, and a head plopping in the dip of your neck.

You hear a loud sniff coming from your neck and then a contented sigh.

You pause for a moment before turning your head to look at the man now clinging to your body like a koala.

“Caleb..”

“Mhmmm”

“You need to let go of me so I can get this glass.”

You feel his hair shake as he rubs his head into your shoulder.

“Noo.” he pouts.

You sign and try again, going on your tip toes, swatting your fingers until you grab the glass you desired, all while Caleb stay put at your side.

You set it down on the counter for now as you rotate in Caleb’s hold. You push your hands gently against his chest, prying him from your body.

He lets out another whine, a pout evident on his face as he looks down at you.

You spin him around and start pushing him towards one of the stool situated next to the island to sit on.

Once seated, he’s looking at you with those damn eyes again, almost making you crumble, but you steel yourself. You have to stay strong, remember!

“Stay!” you say sternly, pointing your finger at him. It was no different from an owner telling their dog off.

Caleb whines once more as you turn around and go towards the glass again. You open the fridge for the water pitcher and pour some into the glass. You then go to another cabinet to grab some painkillers.

You may have fought, but you don’t want him to have a bad hangover.

Returning, you slide the water glass in front of him and hold out your hand.

“Take these, they will help with tomorrow.”

To say the alcohol was hitting him harder presently was an understatement. All Caleb wanted to do was stare at you, hug you, and touch you.

“I don’t wanna.” He slurred.

“Caleb, you need to take these or you’re going to feel like shit in the morning.” You huffed.

“I donna careee, I just want you pipppsquek.” He whined while holding up his hand in front of you, making a grabbing motion.

You huffed once more, marching into his reach. You lift up his chin with one hand, making him look you in the eyes.

“open your mouth, now.”

He looks at you with wide eyes, while obeying your command.

You take the pills in your hand and place them in his mouth and make him close it. You then grab the water beside you and place it to his lips. “Drink”.

He does as you say and gulps all the water in the glass.

After he is done, you place the water back down.

He looks at you for a moment before grabbing you into his embrace. His head was in the crook of your neck again.

“Do you hate me, pipsqueak?” He slurs into your shoulder.

You look down at him, your brow knitting together in annoyance and sighing for what feels like the millionth time tonight.

“No…but you did hurt me.” You reply.

“I’m sorry” He lifts his head, looking at you with pain in his big eyes.

“It’s okay, but now isn’t the time to talk about this. You’re too drunk.” You say, stroking his hair.

But Caleb wanted to! It's the reason he had come home in the first place. He needed to make things right.

“noo, we should. I was being an idiot, and I didn’t wanna admit you were right.”

You look down at him in shock.

You were not expecting that from him.

“I don’t want you to see me as weak.” He whispers, almost as if he’s ashamed.

“A-and if you saw me hurt, how could I protect you? That’s all I’m good for.” his voice wobbles.

You pause, going rigid at his touch.

Fuck…is that what he thought of himself?

 “I-I don’t know how to let you take care of me..” He turns his head on your shoulder.

“I’m afraid…afraid you won’t want me anymore if you see me weak.” At this point you felt your shoulder get wet as you saw his eyes tearing up.

You think you felt your heart stop.

You were frozen to your spot as shock rippled through you like the impact of a stone rippling in a pond. You felt pressure building behind your own eyes. Pain squeezed your chest, constricting enough to the point it was making it hard to breathe. The lump in your throat had returned twofold.

You were heartbroken…utterly devastated that this is what he thought.

Both for yourself and the man you cherish like no other.

You raised both your hands to his face, cupping his precious cheeks as you guided him to look at you.

The sight you caught made your breath hitch.

His face was still red, but accompanying it were tearful eyes, and his puffy lips pushed together. Your guys' eyes locked -he looked like a trembling puppy.

“Don’t you dare ever think that,” you choked out.

“I love you no matter what, Caleb. I choose to love you. All sides of you, including the ones that are flawed.” You smiled at him tearfully.

“I want to take care of you because you're precious to me. I want to be there when you need me. I want you to feel comfortable coming to me. Because I’ll never judge you for that.”

“You’re so hard on yourself! You're allowed to be human too, baby. You're allowed to feel your feelings, the good and the bad. But most importantly, for yourself!” You say as one of your thumbs brushes away a stray tear that left Caleb’s eye.

Caleb didn’t know what to say. What to think. Or even really how to breathe then.

Your declaration finally hit him. Something within him broke, shattering into a million pieces. The damn holding all the emotion he had been shoved away came tumbling out now.

First was the shaking.

Then the tears and shaky breaths.

The man you loved so deeply and for so long released a loud sob.

Your baby was sobbing. Sobbing for the hurt he caused you, sobbing for past mistakes. But most of all, he was sobbing for the little boy deep down in him that was still in that lab.

It all finally came out. Every neglect, every silent moment, any time he felt completely alone in this world. He finally let it all out in your arms.

And you just held him through it.

After a few minutes, he calmed down, sobs turning into small sniffs and stray tears.

You pull his face closer to you, kissing them away and all over his face to show him your love.

Pulling away, you look at him. He looks back at you through puffy eyes.

You smile softly, “Well, that was a start”.

He opens his eyes to look at you for a moment. Then a single laugh bubbles up from his chest.

You both stare at each other again until you both burst into laughter. You just couldn't stop.

After all the events of the night, the irony was hitting you. You got what you wanted, you supposed.

After you both settle down, Caleb pulls you closer to him (if that’s even possible).

“I love you”. He whispers against your lips.

“I love you, too idiot.”

You pull him forward into a soft and loving kiss as your lips gladed over each other.

It had been a long night, and you both were tired. But regardless, you both didn’t regret it. Your relationship had a long way to go, but this was a start. A beautiful shared start.

And by all the powers of the deep space tunnel, that was good enough for you.

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(I hoped you liked it! There were a lot of feelings and emotions I wanted to capture, but it can be hard to put them in writing. I don't know if it was any good, but I loved writing it. I tried. Share your thoughts in the comments!)