#YOU GET AN EXTRA LONG FIC BECAUSE I'M THE WORST

[kaicubus]

Extra Salty | Jennifer C.

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warnings ✩° : 18+ NSFW, yandere!jennifer, implied jealousy, established relationship, cursing, reader knows jennifer is a demon, biting/marking, jennifer getting off on your thigh, dom!jennifer, cursing, dirty talk, jennifer calls reader a slut (affectionately).

pairing ✩° : jennifer check x fem!reader, college au, all characters are of age!

premise ✩° : things take a turn for the worst when jennifer finds out her precious girlfriend has been hanging around someone other than her, which is by far one of the worst mistakes someone can make, but how will she punish you?

word count ✩°: 3.9k

authors note ✩° : this is literally THE fic bc its jennifer, who's a succubus, and my whole thing is basically succubi...like it's perfect. anyways so sorry i've been gone, i'm finding time to write and not lose my sanity but school is so stressful!!

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Jennifer Check was always confrontational. She never feared rejection or looking bad since no matter what she did, she looked great all the time. What did she have to hide? Nothing, apparently. Not even with the insecurities she so often felt when it came to her obsession with you, her beloved girlfriend.

When most people say they trust their partner just not anyone else, Jennifer says they don't mean it like she means it. That being said, for the longest time, Jennifer Check remained the most jealous girl you knew, not that you knew any girls, though personally you believed she had no reason to be. It was her who was constantly in the limelight, being admired up close or from afar as she held the status of being the most popular girl wherever she went in middle school, high school, and now in college. Her treatment was the same regardless of her location, and if anyone should be jealous in your relationship, it should be you. That doesn't go to say that you are by any means less than Jennifer, you were well aware of the fact that her beauty was unattainable. Not because she got plastic surgery or botox, but because she wasn't human.

A succubus. 

She took in a demon from the darkest pits of hell willingly to inhabit her body which causes her to feed on the blood of virgin men, leaving her hungry—starving in fact—until her next fix. Being a succubus basically meant that no matter what, Jennifer would always be beautiful, just as long as she was able to get her hands on the next, drooling dog so she could feed, or as anyone else would say, the next guy looking at her with goo goo eyes. Thankfully, she never had to wait long, and Jennifer remained beautiful. Her hunger for men never stopped her from devoting herself to you though, since as she sees it, men are toys meant to break and abandon, while you're just untouchable.

In her world, the people behind her were simply that: behind her, under her, or below her. They never mattered like you did, the only thing that did matter was if anyone got involved with you, and that was almost always a situation you never wanted to be in because of how extreme she tended to be. 

Despite being everyone's dream girl, Jennifer was cold and bitter towards everyone. She couldn't care less if she ‘accidentally’ gave someone attitude or insulted them to their face or behind their backs, because they just weren't you. In her mind, she had no reason to be nice to anyone who wasn't Y/n L/n. However, you were slightly different than her. In fact quite the opposite. In social settings, you greeted everyone with a smile, asking how their day was, and sometimes giving them a hug—since being friendly just seemed like the right thing to do.

The only problem with your instilled politeness was that Jennifer wasn't the biggest fan. She hated seeing you smile at anyone other than herself, let alone anyone she considered to be as low as scum on earth as she felt it insulting to her beliefs and her heart. She never said, but you knew all too well that she was fed up, knowing that you were at class lectures talking and interacting with other people. 

You never had to walk on eggshells with her, because she was very upfront and communicative about how she felt, but at times, even you had to admit she was being a little...possessive.

So, that's why when she found you spending the entire day with someone she didn't know through a carousel post on Instagram with the caption reading, “With the best partner in the world!” there was only one thing on her mind. 

After a few hours passed since Jennifer saw the post, she was on your doorstep, staring at you with happily squinted eyes, grinning ear to ear, almost as if she were made of plastic. She doesn't have to knock twice before you notice it's her and open the door for her, revealing her straight, long, inky black hair resting pristinely over her shoulder and a tightly fitted cropped shirt hugging her breasts and an acid washed pair of low rise, bootcut jeans hanging off her hips. 

Before you could say anything to greet her, Jennifer shoves past you, holding her head up high with that sort of pep in her step that makes her irresistible. Closing the door behind her, Jennifer continues walking past you and makes her way up the stairs to your bedroom, to where you follow without saying a word. 

“So.” Your girlfriend smiles and wraps her arms around your neck once you both are in your room, “I missed you, where have you been all day? I texted you like, 10 fucking times.” She spoke, her voice low and thick with sultry as she tips her chin down to meet your confused gaze through her neatly plucked, thin eyebrows. The last time you checked your phone was when your heart sank staring at the 36 missed calls and 61 unread texts all from her. You were going to respond as soon as you got back to your apartment, but Jennifer beat you to it, as she always does.

“You know, I could’ve fucking died, Y/n. You weren't the least bit worried about me?” With a pout, she leans closer and presses a kiss on your cheek, leaving a dark shaded lipstick stain on your otherwise clean skin. She remains smiling, swishing her hair over her shoulders as she cocks her head to the side enchantingly. 

“Nice of you to drop in, Jenny.” Despite your initial surprise, you wrap your arms around her shoulders and let your hands fall past her back and her fitted shirt, “I know you didn't die because one, you're already dead, and two, you kept calling. You knew I was in class.” You remind her subtly, using your fingers to twist the ends of her silky hair around in loops in an attempt to calm her boiling nerves. 

Jennifer lets out a sharp exhale and drops her shoulders, “I seriously wouldn't play dumb if I were you, baby. I saw your best friend’s post with you in it. Front and center. Next to some bitch with dry, split ends and eye bags that take up like half of her pustule filled face.” She spits accusingly, only giving a heartless shrug after you shoot her a distasteful sneer, “Really frumpy looking. You know, for someone who’s dating someone like me, you’d think you’d hang out with someone with just a bit more style, you know?” She snorts again, not grasping the weight of her hurtful words and only seeing your annoyed expression.

You push yourself off her slightly, but only manage to turn your neck to face her since her hands are interlocked together in a way it’d be impossible to break free. “She’s a friend of mine, Jenny. You don’t have to get defensive, I met her in my calculus lecture. She’s actually really cool, we were studying at that little cafe on—”

“Snoozefest.” Jennifer says loudly, yawning melodramatically, “No name? Surely she’s gotta have one, or are you keeping her name a secret because you’re scared of what I’ll do if I find out? What, is her code name pineapple or some weird shit like that?”

“No nicknames, not much of anything. But VIVIAN and I are going to be studying for our exam next week, because you know I suck at math.” You shrug. Vivian. What a stupid name, Jennifer thought. Of course, it was clear on her face that she didn’t like it. With a small click of her tongue, she rolls her eyes and catches her elbows with her hands, digging into her own skin for a minute.

“God you are so full of shit. Just tell me you think she’s prettier than me. That’s what you’re thinking, right? That’s why you didn’t answer my calls because you were too busy thinking about how much you want to suck on her face?” She holds up two peace signs and rams them together, insinuating some lewd gesture. 

You meet her eyes. They were darker than usual, not entirely a different color, but blackened by the shadow cast down from her furrowed brows that only seemed to sink into her face, making her pristine expression appear more or less evil. Crystal blue eyes shake frantically from side to side, scanning your face for any sort of change or distortion that could tell her you were lying to her, but since you weren’t, she couldn’t find anything. 

“Jenny, you know I would never go out with anyone like that if they weren’t you.” You smile reassuringly and guide your hands to hers, capturing her cold blooded palms into yours. You fall back silently and sit on the foot of your bed, looking up at her in full. Her arms dangle but she doesn’t seem that convinced. 

"...Are you lying to me?" Jennifer asks with a crazed look in her eyes, suddenly gaining the exposure from the light above in a flash, "What the fuck are you hiding me from me, Y/n? Do you have some side bitch? Something you don't want me to talk to me about?" She continues, pressing on to get a rise out of you. You’re well aware of her tactics and the way her mind works, but she was also aware of the fact you had no control over yourself when you got nervous, or rather when she confronted you and backed you into a corner. 

“N-No!” You manage to squeeze out, “Jen, I’m not hiding shit from you, what’s your problem?” Hot pink stiletto nails sink into your shoulders, wandering down your arms and tracing back up, instantly making your entire body shiver. Suddenly, her nails dig deep into your skin causing half crescent moons to form red in your skin. You look up at her in shock and your lips snap open at the sight of your teeth bared girlfriend now looking like she’s about to unhinge her jaw and swallow you whole. Little ‘ow’s’ don't stop Jennifer from squeezing harder and harder. It isn't until she sees tears prick your eyes, forcing you to snap them shut. Only now, Jennifer smiled. "What?” You can hear her giggle, “Did you think I was actually going to hurt you?" You open your eyes and grab your chest, heaving a deep sigh of relief, "God, Y/n, you're so fun to scare. It’s nice knowing I can still get a rise out of you, that’s why I always love doing it. But, personally, I find teasing you much more entertaining. Plus, I'm really fucking bored, and you have something I want. That's why I came here, you know?" 

You regain a bit of your composure and lean back, “And what would that be?”

Jennifer drops her shoulders and arches her back. Reluctantly taking her hand from yours, she slowly pushes herself onto your body, lowering herself just a bit and wrapping her thin arm around your waist, pulling you closer to her at the same time. “To punish you for ignoring me all day. Because you really know how to piss me off, baby.” Jennifer’s hands clasp together, locking palms into place just over the waistband of your spandex shorts. Sharing a wide eyed glance, Jennifer lets her cherry pink lips fall open, exposing the tips of her ivory teeth and sharp canines as soon as she starts to smirk.

Your mouth falls open as well, prepping your tongue to say something, anything to question her position, the way her lip tucks under her glistening teeth, or her hand slowly trailing down the front of her chest, peeling back the thin, white fabric of her shirt until the cups of her baby pink bra spring out in front of you. No words come out of your throat, not even a sound can be heard as Jennifer effortlessly lifts herself from your waist, unzipping and jostling her belt buckle from her jeans, revealing a matching pink set of panties hugging tightly around her thin waist. 

“All I want is for you to look at me, and see all of this,” Jennifer says, leaning down, cupping her hands around her perfectly rounded tits, “Do you know how many times I touched myself today thinking about you? Thinking about how fucking pissed I was about you hanging out with some needy bitch…while I’m being a needy bitch for you…I’m your bitch, but you're my slut. M’kay?” 

You nod obediently, earning a gentle grin from the only person who mattered right now. That nod was all Jennifer needed to carry out the rest of her plan, and before you knew it, the same acid washed bootcut jeans she once wore to greet you a few minutes ago on your doorstep were discarded to the floor, looking like nothing more than a towel next to the rest of your dirty laundry. Now, Jennifer sat comfortably between your closed thighs, straddling your leg as if it were an armchair or a bicycle seat. While you were fully clothed and dressed, Jennifer was not. 

The only pieces of clothing covering her were slowly being stripped off her the more she noticed how flush your cheeks seemed to get or how many times you've avoided her gaze. How could you act like it didn't bother you that your girlfriend was on top of you, wearing nothing but a matching set of bra and panties, sitting directly on your leg, with nothing to hide, not even the surging heat or pooling wetness pulsating from between her own legs. 

"What’s wrong, Y/n? Cat got your tongue?” Jennifer starts moving, rendering you speechless, planting her soft panties, slowly accumulating more and more slick from just the sight of you, onto the bare skin of your thigh, "Ah, you know, you look really good from this side,” Jennifer grins and moves her hips to the side, but quickly corrects herself with a sharp seethe, shaking her head, “No, wait, this side.” You bite down on your lip. Jennifer’s teased you before, she takes great pride in that. But never before has it had such an effect on you as it does now. But why?

Jennifer quickly jerks her hips forward, reminding you of her presence and clearly annoyed at the thought you might be slipping away from her. 

“You wish you were eating me out right now, don't you?” Like a puppeteer, Jennifer widens her sadistic grin and nods her head, maintaining her agonizingly slow pace of her rutting hips, which causes you to nod your own, “My soaking wet pussy, your hot tongue inside of me…fuck don't get me excited, Y/n. It’s too bad, because after today, I’m not going to let you fucking touch me.” 

“Jenny, I didn't do anything, we just studied!” You let out an uncontrolled whimper, “F-Fuck, ngh…” 

“You’re going to watch me fuck myself on your thigh, and you're going to savor every bit of it. You won't even remember that pathetic bitch’s name after I'm finished with you. Jennifer, Jennifer, Jennifer, that’s all you're going to be thinking. No more Vivian…no more anyone else. You drove me crazy, but now it’s time I do the same to you.”

You gulp down all the saliva pooled inside your mouth, forgetting all of your humanly binds as the inhuman entity on your leg arches her back and stares down at you with eyes piercing directly into your own. Jennifer knows the hold she has on you, which is why her ego’s always so high; She dangles her body, her lust, in front of you like a rare steak to a starved dog, knowing the consequences. The bit of drool that leaks out of the corner of your rose-wet lips is all she needs to see to reaffirm that idea. 

"That's right, baby, don't stop looking at me. Keep looking at how I'm rubbing my wet pussy on your thigh. Doesn't that feel good?" Jennifer edges in a melodic tone, almost siren-like despite being a succubus, "You did this, you know. You made me so fucking horny, thinking about you and what you did today without me, you got me all riled up. I hope you're proud, slut~"

You nod your head eagerly, mouth widened and agape, but not being able to say what you think you want to say. Almost as if she's put a trance on you, you're silenced. Unharmed, but silent.

If it were your fingers, your mouth, or even your own clit rubbing against hers, the story would be much different. Instead this was Jennifer’s way of punishing you, knowing you can't indulge in the sweetness of her juices or warmth of her fluttering cunt directly, or at least the way you want to. Jennifer rocks her hips back and forth, dragging her throbbing clit and equally sopping wet folds against your skin, chewing on her bottom lip to release as much tension as she can while still teasing the living hell out of you. 

“Jenny, p-please, I can’t—” You groan and reach for her stomach, overcome with the insatiable need to touch her skin, but she continues to pleasure herself on your leg. Letting out loose moans as she rolls her neck in circles, Jennifer plants her palms onto your waist, humming your name from her pillowy lips. 

“Mm, ooh fuck!” She gasps, “Right there, right there is perfect~!” Her eyes open just a slit, “Better than any fucking vibrator or dildo I've ever had. Who knew fucking my girlfriends pretty fucking thigh could get me so fucking wet…and hot, and messy.” You stare as Jennifer’s fingers tap further down her pelvis and reach the side of her underwear, which was practically useless now as it was completely soaked through with slick arousal seeping from the nylon fabric. As she pulls the sticky material from her inner thigh, you can hear a small, lewd ‘shlick’ sound coming from her pussy, now met with the cold air surrounding the two of you. 

Jennifer practically purred as she settles back down on your warm flesh, her now exposed pink cunt flattens onto the same spot on your thigh that she's been massaging into, only now you could truly feel all of her. Her eyes flutter shut, and she repeatedly nudges her sweet spot over and over in circles and bold stripes. Normally, Jennifer’s body was pretty insensitive, at least with anyone else she never got to climax. She grew very fond of faking orgasms, and she was pretty good at it. That never crossed her mind with you, though. 

“Baby, look at me,” Jennifer catches your chin and leans down, bucking her hips in sharp, fluid motions, “I'm so close, I'm so close to cumming all over your soft, warm thigh, I'm so close to making such a pretty mess all over you.” She slowly hunches towards you, closing the space between you ever so slowly, taking all the time in the world before finally the burning sensation of her lips on yours returns once more. Pressing against your mouth was the first mistake she made, as now you couldn't hold back anything inside of you. You began to feel your chest start to catch flame, your movements were simply not your own anymore. 

Hurriedly, your arms link behind Jennifer’s back, and your hands find their place on your girlfriend’s plush ass, scooting her closer so that her exposed chest is right against your shirt. You can hear her let out a surprised, yet intrigued gasp, followed by an even hungrier kiss, smirking directly into your mouth. 

“Ooh fuck, Y/n, is it that hard to keep your fucking hands off me? Am I that irresistible to you, my slutty girl?” She says in between breaks of the heated kiss, licking her tongue in circular motions, making loud, noisy slurps and panting breathlessly. Your hands lift up to her back and basically rip off her bra. You remove yourself from her swollen lips to gaze at her perfectly smooth tits, only for her to cut your admiration short with an abrupt grab at your hands from behind her. 

“You're my slut, Y/n. My only. Don't ever fucking,” Jennifer gasps, “Think about anyone else. Just me. Only me.” 

“F-Fuck, Jennifer.” You can feel your own heat growing with each second. 

“Say it.” She commands, bouncing now on your thigh as she brings your hands out in front of her and places them directly on top of her tits, massaging your palms in circles, “Say you're my slut.” Jennifer’s mouth falls open and her movements instantly grow more and more uncontrolled, which was a tell-tale sign she was close to her climax. 

Without hesitation, you lurch forward and run your hands over her erect nipples, squeezing them with just the right amount of pressure to send Jennifer’s body limp, “I'm your slut, I'm your only fucking slut, Jennifer. You're so beautiful for me, all I want is for you to cum.” You wine, your desperate voice full of wanton, “Please, please…” 

“My slut, my pretty fucking slut, begging for me to c-cum all over her. Mmngh!” She pants, “Fuck!” Her hips jerk forwards suddenly and you can feel her entire body above you start to spasm. Your eyes widen as Jennifer flips her head down and back up, swishing her black hair messily over her fucked out expression, watching as a few strands get caught in the corner of her mouth, but she could care less. The rush surging inside of her was too much to ignore for her to preserve her neatness. “Fuck! I’m going to cum, I’m going to fucking c—hm!”

You can feel the way her legs tensing and relaxing together around your thigh, giving her the leverage she needs to accommodate for the overwhelming, pulsating sensation rippling throughout her pussy. Jennifer screams out in satisfaction, repeatedly mumbling encouraging ‘yes’s’ from the deepest pits of her diaphragm, bucking and rutting her sopping wet cunt back and forth as she rides out her climax. Her pussy doesn't stop twitching when she opens her eyes with a hefty sigh, nor does it stop when her body gives out and flops into yours. The extra weight of Jennifer is enough to push you backwards against the pillow behind you, but she doesn't let up.

Jennifer continues to crawl onto you, as if she wasn't close enough already, just to surround herself with the comfort of her girlfriend, but clearly trying to physically get under your skin. Jennifer hums in satisfaction and lets out a breathy laugh, rising up to your chest to rest the side of her face comfortably against the top of your collarbone. Flushed, red, and wet, Jennifer presses small kisses all against any exposed skin, running her hands all over your jawline and through your hair. 

With a firm grip on the roots of your hair, Jennifer grins, “I...I don't want you talking to her anymore. Ok?” She says softly, almost innocently. As her hands start to move up your glistening thigh, just over the fabric hugging your waist, and past your now unbuttoned shorts, you nod, “I won't talk to her ever again.” 

“Good.”

[roosterforme]

Math for Aviators | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: It's your fault that Bradley finds math so sexy now. When he surprises you by sneaking into one of your lectures, he gets rewarded with a little time alone with the professor after class.

Warnings: Fluff, swears and smut

Length: 2400 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time! Check out my masterlist

"See you two at the Hard Deck later?" Nat asked as Bradley climbed into the Bronco after work.

"Nah, it's my wife's late night on campus," he replied with a smirk. Calling you his wife had such a nice ring to it, he had all but stopped using your first name around his friends. "I'm gonna drop by. Maybe take a peek at her calculus lecture." 

She rolled her eyes in response. "Tell your wife I said not to forget about brunch on Saturday."

"I'll let my wife know."

He zipped out of the parking lot, still in his khaki uniform, and headed across town to San Diego State University. If there was one thing Bradley never thought would get him going, it was math. But you made it outrageously sexy with your PhD and your slutty little math tattoo. 

The fact that Bradley never got to attend one of your lectures during your first semester teaching in California felt like a crime. He'd wanted to, in the worst way, but your classes ended by six o'clock every day last term. But this time, you taught level four calculus on Thursday evenings. 

He parked and headed toward your building, smiling as some of the college aged girls looked at him as he strolled past. If they thought he looked good in his uniform, that was nothing compared to the fuss you usually made over him. 

Bradley followed a kid holding a skateboard into the mathematics and computer science building and turned left. He was only four minutes late for your class as he followed skateboard kid inside the lecture hall and let the door close softly behind him. The room was quite cavernous, but there were only about forty students in attendance. You always claimed you preferred the smaller classes so you could spend more time getting everyone where they needed to be individually. 

When his eyes met your body, Bradley almost moaned. You were leaning over the long table at the front of the room taking attendance, and you were wearing a white blouse tucked into that wool skirt he liked. Even your loafers looked cute. One of his favorite pastimes was picking on you for your east coast wardrobe, but holy shit, the professor look did things to him. Or maybe it was just you.

As you called out names, Bradley realized he was just standing in the back like an idiot, so he walked up a few rows and took an aisle seat.

"Francis?" you asked, and a girl who looked extremely disinterested raised her hand. "Luca? Alex? Did I miss anyone?"

When you looked up, your eyes found Bradley's almost instantly. The softest smile graced your lips, and Bradley desperately wanted to run down to where you were standing and kiss you. Instead he just winked, and then you were opening two additional notebooks on your table. 

"Before we get started, just a reminder about my office hours," you said, your voice projecting beautifully. Bradley had to adjust himself in his seat, because you were speaking right to him. "I'm always available to spend a little extra time with you should you need it." 

He was well acquainted with your office and the way your voice echoed off the walls when he made you scream his name. He would make it a point to join you for some office hours again soon. But right now, he was going to sit back and enjoy how much smarter you were than him.

"If you recall last week, we talked about the theorems of Green and Stokes. Let's focus a little more on the Green theorem. This is simply the relationship between the macroscopic circulation around the curve C and the sum of all the microscopic circulation that is inside C."

Bradley was already breathing a little heavy. Holy shit. Was he actually married to the smartest person in the world? It fucking sounded like it. And then you ran your fingertips gently along the side of your neck, and he sat up a little taller in his seat. But so did skateboard kid who was sitting in front of him. Bradley glanced around the room, and it looked like all the twenty something guys were hypnotized by you. The looks of open adoration on their faces as you turned toward the white board to work out a problem reminded him of the way he used to stare at you when he was twenty one. If he was being honest, he probably still did.

As you worked out the problem and bent at the waist, Bradley needed to adjust himself again. And when you turned to see if anyone had a question, you looked directly at him as you touched your neck again. 

"She's so hot," skateboard kid whispered to the guy next to him.

"Yeah," he grunted in response. "She's like extra hot today."

Bradley leaned forward, grinning and softly said, "That's my wife."

They both turned around to look at him briefly. Skateboard kid nodded in appreciation, and the other guy said, "Well done."

And then Bradley settled back in his seat and watched every move that you made. When you wrote out another equation in your tidy handwriting, you made the variables spell out B-E-E-R-B-O-Y. Every time you glanced at him, your fingers were touching your body somewhere that he was familiar with. He was itching to get his hands on you. 

It was an hour and a half of pure sexual tension, and Bradley knew you were enjoying yourself. Knowing he was sitting in the lecture hall seemed to be making your voice a little breathy. You were throwing out terms like "gradient, divergence curl, line and surface integrals, and differential equations" that were making him hard. This was foreplay at its finest. 

When you ended your lecture with some reminders about your class schedule, you had your hands on your hips, and your diamond ring was glittering on your hand. Bradley smirked as a line of students, mostly male, formed in front of you once you dismissed everyone. And now he understood why you got home so late on Thursdays. Because all these guys had a crush on you. On his wife.

Bradley was semi hard, and you kept glancing up to make sure he was still there. He wasn't going to go anywhere, you must know that. When you were finally helping skateboard kid with whatever question he fabricated just to have a chance to stand next to you, Bradley glanced down at his lap. Maybe you'd let him have some private office hours right now.

When the lecture hall was finally empty, save for the two of you, Bradley watched as you continued to tease him. You didn't glance to where he was sitting at all as you packed up your bag. And when you erased the board, he could tell you were standing on your tiptoes to make your ass look extra enticing just for him. 

"Professor Sugar," he groaned, rubbing himself through his khaki pants. 

You glanced at him over your shoulder with a devilish look on your face. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming to my lecture?" you asked quietly, but he could still hear you perfectly. 

Bradley grunted. "Got dismissed a little early. Just thought I'd surprise you."

"Did you learn anything new?" you asked, grabbing your bag from the table and heading his way.

"Nothing new," he replied. "Just a refresher course on how smart and hot my wife is."

You smiled as you set your bag down next to his seat. "I love it when you call me that." Then you came to stand between his spread thighs and leaned down to kiss him gently. Bradley let you tease him with feather soft kisses for a minute before he was aching inside his pants. 

He ran his rough hand along your pretty neck and asked, "Can I join you for some office hours? I really need them, Professor Sugar." When you giggled against his lips, Bradley wrapped his muscular arms around you and palmed your ass, pulling you onto his lap with a squeal. 

"Beer Boy!"

"Please? I'll be your top student, Baby. Better than that loser with his skateboard."

"You know, I'm starting to suspect that Luca might have ulterior motives for taking my class again this semester."

Bradley chuckled as he pushed your skirt up your thighs a few inches. "Yeah. His ulterior motive is your ass." Then he lightly slapped said ass as you raked your fingers through his hair and straddled him in the auditorium seat. "I know you can feel me, Sugar," he whispered. "Office hours? Or are you gonna make me wait until we get home?"

But instead of responding, you just rubbed yourself against him. If you weren't wearing panties, he would have a pretty, little wet spot to show off as he walked back to the Bronco. You tugged harder on his hair so his head was tipped back, and you kissed him a little rougher.

"I'm in charge in the lecture hall, not you. And I say no visit to my office."

Bradley groaned as you sucked on his neck, and he muttered, "Making me walk back to the Bronco hard?"

"No," you whispered, and his cock throbbed. "I'm going to suck your cock right here." Your smug smile as you pulled away from his neck left him blushing, he could tell. 

"Right here?" he asked, but your hands were already working on his belt buckle and zipper, and he lifted his hips in the seat so you could yank his pants down a little bit. 

"Mmhmm," you hummed against his lips before you walked to the back of the auditorium, leaving him sitting there with his hard cock out. 

"Sugar?" he whispered, covering himself with both hands as he craned his neck to see where you went. You flipped the lightswitch next to the door and peered out the small window into the hallway, and then you strolled back to where he was sitting. Bradley let you take his hands in yours and set them on his thighs as you knelt on the floor in front of him.

You looked so pretty, your skin illuminated by the soft lighting shining around the perimeter of the room. Your eyes were bright and mischievous as you looked up at him and kissed the precum away from his tip. Your pink tongue darted out to clean your lips before gently swiping the underside of his cock, and Bradley had to grip his thighs to keep from thrusting. Because it was clear you were going to take your time right now. 

"You are so hard, Beer Boy, you're absolutely throbbing."

When you took an inch or two between your pouty lips, Bradley's head tipped back. "I love math," he groaned. "It really gets me going. And I love your smart mouth."

You hummed around his length as you took another inch and swirled your tongue. Then you pulled him out with a soft pop, his head snapping back up to look at you. "You're such a good student," you whispered. "Top grades. Teacher's pet. Big cock."

"Fuck," Bradley grunted. "I'm coming to your lecture every week, Professor."

You smiled as you gripped him in one hand and licked up and down along the underside of his cock until he could feel your saliva dripping down his balls. He ran his thumb along your cheek, and then you took him deep so he could feel himself there. He groaned your name as he tapped the back of your throat, and you gagged for him. It was so fucking pretty the way he made your eyes water. 

If you weren't concerned about getting caught, then he certainly wasn't going to bring it up. He'd be lying if he said the idea of a public blowjob wasn't adding to his arousal. Hell, he thought the way you and he went at it in the college library study room was hot, and that door had a damn lock. So this was next level.

Bradley grunted in the quiet room, and the acoustics made the sound carry. You were bobbing along his length, making obscene little noises, and he just couldn't take it anymore. His hands found the back of your head, and after one thrust, your moans echoed around the room. 

"I love that sound," he growled, slowly fucking your face as you sucked on him. You kept eye contact with him as he started to come undone, his hips leaving the seat as he wanted more of you. Now you were gripping his thighs, ready to take his cum like a champ. He was there. He was right there. One more tap against the back of your throat. All your saliva dripping onto your blouse. It was everything. 

He knew you already knew it, but he grunted, "I'm cumming," as he spurted into your mouth and down your throat. Gripping the back of your head, he fucked your mouth with shallow thrusts until he slumped back akwardly into the seat with a long groan that filled the room. 

When you withdrew him, his cock was messy and you were grinning as you stuck out your tongue, showing off his load. "Gorgeous," he whispered with a smirk, watching you swallow him down before licking his softening length clean. "I love being the teacher's pet." 

You giggled as you helped him get tucked back into his khakis. "I only suck the dicks of my students with the highest grades."

"Hey now. You're my wife. You better only be sucking my dick," he rasped as you stood up in front of him and shrugged.

"Then you better keep getting top grades, Beer Boy." 

Bradley was obsessed with you. He quickly wrestled his belt into place as he followed the sway of your ass up to the auditorium doors. "I can't wait to see that skirt on the bedroom floor when we get home," he said as you pushed the door open. And there stood the janitor, about to enter the room to clean it. "Shit," Bradley grunted, still fiddling with his belt. 

But you just waved and said, "Goodnight, Herman," as the janitor smirked at Bradley. 

He didn't even bother with his belt after that. He just took your hand in his and walked with you to the Bronco, thinking about all the things he wanted to do to you once your skirt was on the bedroom floor. 

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

This was written to celebrate the birthday of the lovely @mak-32 ! Beer Boy and Sugar wouldn't even exist without you, Mak! I hope you have the most wonderful day! Thanks for your help and the banner @beyondthesefourwalls

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[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Yandere(?) Jing Yuan

MY HUSBAND ✨

A little warning though. I quit playing HSR after 2.something. I don't remember. But it's because my devices can't handle it anymore :( at least I got Jing Yuan before I deleted the game. So I am probably going to put some wrong information here. Especially the timeline. Forgive me! Also,I lied. I'm not making this fic NSFW. Have some not so good angst LMAO Of course, there's spoilers so... Spoiler alert! Notes: Highly OOC Jing Yuan. He's a lonely man fr fr. Also, an extra long fic as an apology for disappearing like that lol. Also, not even sure if this counts as yandere. But just to be safe, i'm putting it here. So, dead dove, do not eat.

Being a long time trailblazer from the Astral Express made you develop quite the wanderlust in you.

You were originally from Xianzhou. A spoiled kid of a rich family that decided to embrace the free life when the Astral Express first visited your planet.

You developed a strong friendship with Himeko and Welt, alongside treating Dan Heng and March as your little siblings/children.

When Stelle arrived in the Astral Express, it seems that your little family is complete. Sure, Stelle may be a little gremlin with a Stellaron inside, but hey. Family is family.

When the talks of going to Xianzhou appeared, you volunteered to guide Stelle and March around alongside Welt. You did miss your family, and wanted to prove that you weren't the same immature person before.

Well, you know what happened next.

The wharf being abandoned, littered with mara struck soldiers...

It seems that Xianzhou became worse for wear.

Fearing for the worst, you urged the three to follow you and defeated the Mara stricken soldiers in such precision.

Seriously. You follow Nihility since you want to be more laid back in your life. But why does life keep forcing lemons down your throat? Now, it's even your family being dragged in your bad luck!

You got dragged by the three around until you all got to the square, and immediately bade goodbye for the time being. Promising to help them as soon as they need to. For now, you need to get back to your family.

Once you got to the manor, you burst through the door and was immediately smacked to shit by your parents.

"YOU PRODIGAL CHILD! NOW YOU COME BACK HOME?! HOW DARE YOU SHOW YOUR FACE..."

A nagfest, you took in their worry filled words with a sharp edge before calming them down. You asked if any in your family have been mara stricken, but all of them shook their head thankfully enough.

Then, you noticed a man by the tea room. It seems that your parents forgot etiquette and abandoned their guest.

"AH! Forgive us, General! It's just this child... Oooh this child!"

You took a peak and was stunned.

Jing Yuan. The guy whose family is from the Realm-Keeping Commissions? And he's the general now? That's...

"You remember Yuan-yuan, right? Y/N'er?"

Oh you remember alright. How can you not? You loved this man a lot.

You squirmed under Jing Yuan's golden gaze that's filled with an unreadable emotion that you're sure had to do with your past.

And the past is what he desperately holds onto up to this day...

"General! The astral express--"

Jing Yuan's usual relaxed demeanor stiffened, his eyes going rigid. If one looks close, the chess piece he's holding onto cracked, making it glitch.

His face softener a bit as to not scare Yanqing more who stepped back a bit.

"Is that so? Thank you for the information, Yanqing. You can go rest now."

The kid nodded before walking away and leaving Jing Yuan alone.

His world, once so bleak and dry, suddenly had a drop of rain that he once missed and took advantage of, thinking it won't go away.

"Y/N..." He whispered to himself, putting down the piece and washing his face with his palm.

Other than Jing Liu and the others, you were one of the few people he's close to. Ever since you both were in the academy, you've always didn't like his quite stubborn nature. He didn't like his academic strand, wanting to be a cloud knight.

He noticed you pulling a face whenever he cuts classes, sleeps, loafs around... Sure, you were spoiled to bits, but at least you have the decency to be good in school.

So, he made it a point to annoy you greatly. Always popping around the block wherever you were, following you while talking your ear off... Doesn't help that he's a classmate, it's a daily annoyance that you gradually welcomed over time.

It's a friendship born from being together all the time. You watch him train with Jing Liu, taught him stuff he didn't understand, and in return, he would teach you how to fend for yourself since you always told him you wanted to travel the galaxy.

And that friendship developed into something more intimate. Exchanging shy giggles, flirty whispers, firsts of everything... Even without a label other than lovers, you both knew that you two are destined and tied together. Soulmates, if you will.

He's happy that you were by his side. With the quintet and you, how much more happiness does he need in his life?

But sometimes, so much happiness meant that there will be a terrible thing happening the next day.

Fortunately for you, you left Xianzhou before the Baiheng incident in the process of saving the Xianzhou Yuque. It was a timely flight that Jing Yuan supported so that you will be safe from the chaos that will unfold.

Unfortunately for Jing Yuan though, he paid the price of seeing his friends fall one by one.

Baifeng, sacrificing herself when fighting Shuhu, Dan Feng creating a draconic abomination in the process of trying to ressurect Baifeng and solving the Vidyadhara reproduction problem, Yingxing being backfired and becoming immortal stricken with mara, and JIng Liu, also struck with mara.

He watches as his beloved quintet crumble to dust in such a short time, even defeating his own beloved master in order to save so many lives and bring justice to those lost.

Jing Yuan had no one. No one to turn to, no one to confide in.

In times like those, what he yearned is you. For you to return, for you to look at him with so much grief, concern, and care.

All he wanted is your hug, your reassurance that it wasn't his fault, and it wasn't his burden to carry.

But you didn't return. Not even a peep, not even a soul.

700 long years of waiting, of bottling up his emotions that it almost spilt over.

Sure, he's happier now, but is he truly happy?

Deep inside, he kind of resented you for being so blissfully unaware of what happened to him. Of what happened to the quintet. You never even contacted him in those 700 years. Did you just forget your relationship just like that? Did you move on from him? He thought both of you were together forever?

Then slowly, he got jealous. Of you, at first. Just travelling across the galaxies without a worry in the world. How selfish of you to just run off to the farflungs of the universe just to never contact him again. Shame on you. He's a worried lover! How can he not? Then, he got jealous of the people that you must have met. How much were they charming you that you forgot about him, your soulmate?

He started visiting your family in year 300 too. Consoling them and telling that you were gonna go back home. When? Soon. Like really soon.

He found solace in your family that started treating him as their own son. Taking care of him when he visits, entertaining him with a game of chess, maybe even talk about their life.

He also heard more stories about you. About your spoiled attitude outside of school, of your rebellious years, of your wants and needs to see the outside. It's as if he's living vicariously through your parents, and relieving your memories in order to not forget you.

Then, he starts yearning for your presence once more after just trying to forget you.

It's a never ending addictive cycle that he's lost in the deep trenches in.

You were the only constant in this godforsaken world, the wine he yearns to drown himself in in order to forget his problems. But his problem is the wine, his problem is you. But the alcoholic he is, he continue to guzzle down the addictive taste until reality blurs with fantasy. In which a picture perfect world existed were nothing went wrong, and you were still there back in his arms.

Over the years, he somehow got over it. Turned to tea, thought about stuff. But your family reminded him so much of you and told so much stories of you that he became so attached to the idea of you.

He started a little hobby of writing letters to your non-existent being. Thinking you'll read them in the future. He refuses to believe that you're dead and rotting in a ditch somewhere. He knows that you're alive. He knows it.

He wrote down what he wishes to tell you, on what he wanted to do with you once you come back like a little drink, maybe even roam around and show you what Xianzhou looks like after 700 years.

Then, it devolved into his frustrations, anger, jealousy, and grief about what happened in those measly years. On why he wanted to have you so bad with him, to have the only remaining friend with him by his side. He wants to cling to you, to finally have a full on restful sleep, but also yell at you for leaving him behind.

He thought of the people that made you forget him. Of the people that took you away from him. Yes, they may, no, they ARE the reason why you weren't returning home. They must be.

He knows he's wrong. And he's working on it. A few letters down the road had him apologizing, telling he's in the wrong, and started writing about what to do once you come back.

Until those letters carried a weight that he's thinking of.

What will happen if you decided to stay in Xianzhou this time?

What will happen if something or someone made you stay?

What if, Jing Yuan forced you stay?

An absurd idea, but those letters quickly became a drawn out plan on what he'll do to make you stay by him, by his side. Eternally until the end of both of your lifespans.

And those letters were now safely kept in his hand. They will not see the light of the day.

The time he knew that the Astral Express came to their wharf, with Yanqing telling him, he immediately ran to Fu Xuan to know who are the passengers of the train that stepped out to help.

And there you are. You chose the path of Nihility. Fitting for a person like you who wished for everything, yet nothing. A spoiled kid who only wanted meaningless vices and thrills to fill the void inside. You grew up so much just as him.

What is this feeling inside? Relief? Resentment? Guilt? Love?

Woah, love? Really? Does he really still feel love for you? Or is that just a byproduct of the putrid mix of emotions inside of him?

He always knew his feelings for you never disappeared. It was supposed to be just a harmless puppy love that is forgotten over time. Like come on, it's been seven centuries.

But seeing you there, with your mother still nagging you, and your eyes locked onto him with an excited, naive look on your face made those forgotten emotions resurface.

And unfortunately, became an unfortunate ingredient in the rancid pot of emotions he bottled up over the years.

The General, known for being laid back and relaxed, can feel that image slowly crack and crumble every step you take towards him with a smile on your face.

It's so painful. How can you have that sweet smile on your face while he had to endure so much guilt and pain that he doesn't deserve to undergo?

What's worse is that your smile was lifting so much off of his shoulders to the point that he wants to drag those problems back to his shoulders and stubbornly hold onto them just to prove you a point.

He can't believe you had so much power over him. It's driving him insane how your mere presence shook the centuries worth of healing that he did for himself.

The conflicting thoughts started to whirl in his head.

He wants you to stay, but he wants you to disappear now that you're actually here.

In those mere seconds, he composed himself and gave you a soft smile. A smile that usually had a lazy quality in them now looks rigid.

"Y/N, my love. How are you? It's been seven centuries!" Calm and composed. That's what he wishes his voice sounds like.

You, sweet, oblivious you, hugged him with such a smile on your face. After all, Jing Yuan was your lover. And you hoped that he didn't hate you that much from not communicating.

"Yuan! I'm so glad I met you here again! Wow... You're a general now! How cool is that?!"

Your excited voice grated his ears to the point that he wants to cover it vehemently, but he also wants to get a hold of it and hear it over and over again. Reassuring himself that you're actually here in the flesh with him and not just a figment of his fractured reality.

With a smile, you grabbed his hand and got out of your parents' manor, wanting to apologize to Yuan by catching up.

Are you really that insensitive? Such naive thinking that by only talking things out, the problem will be resolved. Well, in your defense, you didn't know what happened with JIng Yuan and the quintet. All you knew is that they grew apart from the looks of it.

You didn't undergo the same traumatic experience that Jing Yuan did, the agonizing isolation, the years of waiting for that somebody to come home, and your mental health devolving into something more sinister, something that crosses with your logic multiple times.

But here you are, flashing your carefree smile at the dying Jing Yuan who squeezed out a chuckle.

He wishes that you burn in hell. He wishes that HE burns in hell. He wishes to burn with you, spending the last agonizing minutes with you finally in his arms again.

He grasps your hand, wrestling out an apology in his mind to you.

But he can't let you go until you knew of the agony you left him with.

And that's going to take a lifetime with you by his side, shackled and ruined.

It has been a whirlwind of emotions.

You saw Dan Heng, turn into your old friend Dan Feng. Well, his visage anyways. Were you that blind to not see the similarities? Or were you blocking the image out of your mind in order to protect your own peace?

And Yingxing, no, Blade. When did he turn into this immortal, suicidal maniac who wishes for nothing but death for himself and revenge?

And it's Dan Feng's fault? Dan Feng would never!

Your image of Dan Heng/Feng started to mix, making you dizzy and confused.

Baiheng. She died? Did she really? So did Dan Feng's ritual work or not? Did she reincarnate? Is she somewhere out there?

What happened in those years?!

And Jing Liu... Jing Yuan's master. Mara stricken and committed a massacre. That Jing Liu?

Jing Yuan even defeated her himself... Oh gods, did he just carry that burden all by himself? All those years... Centuries of pain and suffering that he didn't deserve.

The carnage, the aftermath, the result of grieving.

It's almost too much to bear for you.

And you were just out in the world, travelling and being all wishy washy, enjoying yourself with your newfound friends?

For gods sake, you were Jing Yuan's lover! Did you just forget about him just like that? Then those promises. Were those fake and surface level?!

How about your old friends? Did you even consider them? In those seven centuries, did you not even think of them?

Of course you did! But you swore that you thought that they're going to do fine!

Guilt riddled your weary body. Exhaustion catching up to you as you wept in your room.

So much to process, so much to grieve. It was almost too much if it weren't for Jing Yuan there to comfort you. Telling you that it was okay, that it wasn't your fault.

But what if's kept popping up your mind. What if you returned earlier? What if you were there for Jing Yuan? What if you didn't actually leave?

And Jing Yuan was so nice throughout the whole thing. You only talked to Dan Heng for a little while, but you need more time.

You felt so selfish for being like this. Why are you so affected when you weren't even there?

That's it. You weren't there. You weren't there for your friends, for Jing Yuan who only has you.

Seven centuries of loneliness... How did he even endure it?

You wanted to share the burden so bad, to be with him and atone for those time lost. You want to be there for him.

You are a terrible lover. A terrible friend, and a terrible person. Those phrases continued to mingle in your mind and wore you down to your barebones.

Now, even a sneeze from Jing Yuan warrants you to panic.

And Jing Yuan had a sick sense of satisfaction from seeing you wallow in sorrow.

Again, he knows it's wrong. He knows that he shouldn't be delighted in seeing you suffer.

But that side of him loves the attention he thinks he deserves. The care that he's deprived of, the love that he's blatantly robbed of.

So, he eggs that anxiety in yours on more by talking about the past and the pain he went through, his eyes narrowing in an indescribable stare as your person gets hammered down more and more.

It was eating him alive. But he assures himself that this is just temporary. Once he felt satisfied, he will start fixing you up again good as new.

And, as your parents urged you to finally marry Jing Yuan, and you nodding in desperation to make it up to him more from the centuries of neglect as his lover, Jing Yuan apologizes in his mind once more, and holds you close.

Hello love, you certainly gave everyone a scare. They're all just thrilled to see you safe and sound. As for this latest little game of yours, thank the stars it's over. Did you have fun? Did you get everything out of your system? Good, good. Everyone is so relieved. Welcome home, Y/n. -Jing Yuan

(Original, unedited quote from White Diamond in Steven Universe)

[look-at-the-soul]

Hi! I'm new to the Peaky fandom and am in need of some Tommy fics because he's my favourite character! If your requests are open, (if not, there's no rush!) may I pretty please have a drabble or imagine -- whatever is easier -- with this gif?

*A little spice is okay, just nothing explicit. Also, my pronouns are she/her, but a gender neutral story is totally okay, too! :)

Thank you in advance!

Hello Jessyca! 🥰 Thank you so much for sending this gif!! I decided to make it part of Adele challenge using one of my favorite songs! (Lyrics in italics) 🔥🥰 edit and welcome to the fandom!! 🥰 I forgot to reply this sorry! I hope so far you’ve found incredible stories and lovely mutuals around (I’m always reblogging stories I really enjoy reading 💖)

🔥🔥🔥although the gif is extra hot, you’ll find nothing but fluffiness in this little story…

Women like me

By the corner of your eye, you found Mr. Shelby trying to catch his breath. Resting on his back against the pillows, he was looking at the ceiling completely lost in his own thoughts, his thumb rubbing absently between his brows.

You're driving me away, give me a reason to stay

I want to be lost in you, but not in this way

Don't think you quite understand who you have on your hands

How can you not see just how good for you I am?

In silence you started the same routine you knew by heart now; get up, get dressed and sneak out of his bedroom in silence, head down.

Ah, yes you were almost forgetting about his generous payment in between.

I know that you've been hurt before, that's why you feel so insecure

I begged you to let me in, 'cause I only want to be the cure

You could still feel his seed dripping down your legs, but tried to pick up your clothes scattered on the floor as gracefully as you could to get dress in the corner.

You’d been serving him for several months now, rumor has it Lizzie Stark wasn’t his mistress anymore because she got pregnant, so that was your job now; being Thomas Shelby’s whore.

Complacency is the worst trait to have, are you crazy?

You ain't never had, ain't never had a woman like me

But tonight there was something different, out of place. Mr. Shelby was still in the same position, his chest was now moving at a more normal pace. Looking at the floor, you felt embarrassed to ask for the money so you decided to pretend to fix your hair to see if he got the hint.

But he didn’t.

So after he longest seconds of your life, you decided to walk out without anything, feeling disappointed because you really needed to money to support your family. Perhaps he’d pay you double the next time, you thought to yourself but as you reached the door, his voice stopped you.

All you do is complain about decisions you make

“Y/N…” Your mouth hang open, surprised to hear him say your name.

“Is there a chance for you to stay all night?”

“I-I don’t know Mr. Shelby.” You stammered nervously, the instructions were clear; let him do whatever he wants, pick up your stuff and leave.

“You can call me Tommy… is there somewhere you need to go?”

Your eyes found his briefly, but you instantly dragged them down. “No, it’s just I’m not supposed to stay for the night.” You answered in a low voice.

“Why not?”

Feeling more embarrassed than ever, you didn’t want to point out the obvious, but as his intense blue eyes stared at you, you didn’t have another choice.

“Sir-Tommy,” you corrected yourself, “I’m just a whore.”

We come from the same place, but you will never give it up

It's where they make you feel powerful

That's why you think I make you feel small

But that's your projection, it's not my rejection

You knew that’s what you were, anyone could tell without even knowing you. But calling yourself that, hit you differently.

“Come here,” he extended his hand at you, and you didn’t have any other choice but take it and climb into bed again. “How long have you been coming here?”

“Six months.”

I put my heart on the line for the very first time

Because you asked me to, and now you've gone and changed your mind

But loving you was a breakthrough

You saw his head moving up and down slowly, but he was still oddly quiet.

He was still trying to organize the thoughts inside his mind as he saw you absently picking on your stockings. How could he put into words the way he felt about you?

“Y/N over the last couple of months, you’ve been the only one willing to spend some time with me, when everyone else finds an excuse to walk out the door, you’ve been the constant of my days, or nights for the matter.”

I saw what my heart can really do

Now some other man will get the love I have for you

'Cause you don't care, oh-oh-oh

Was he going to ask you to stop coming every night? You couldn’t speak, terrified of saying something that would piss him off. You had fallen for him secretly, blame it to the intimacy, the frequent late night calls, the way please took over him, but you did and deep down you knew it was all wrong.

“You’re not like the others, you don’t take and leave. You fill my glass with whiskey before you go or you pick up my clothes and fold them… you’ve listened to all my shit without judging me.”

Confused, you gave him a long look. “Tommy, what are you try-”

“I’ve feelings for you, Y/N.”

“That can’t be true, I’m a whore… men like you don’t fall in love with women like me.”

Consistency is the gift to give for free, and it is key

To ever keep, to ever keep a woman like me

“Women like you?” He was suddenly kneeling in bed in front of you, his hands cupping your cheeks. “Who says that?”

“Everybody knows that.”

This was just a fantasy, a dream. You were worthless, the worst of the worst.

“Just so you to know, I’m not so different than you… we just sell different parts of ourselves, Y/N.”

His eyes fixed on you, his intense gaze penetrating every layer, tearing down every single wall. And as he realized your guard was coming down, he pulled you in for a kiss, breaking the only rule you set when you first walked into his bedroom; no kissing.

That first kiss felt totally different to anything you’ve experienced until now, because men usually take what they want and leave right away, but Tommy took his time to explore your lips, the way they molded to his, tentatively, switching his pace and tilting his head from time to time as if he didn’t want to leave a single spot unattended.

He broke apart allowing you to take a deep breath, your head was spinning.

“Beneath, there’s a good woman, I just know it.” His knuckles carefully caressed your chin. You wanted to believe him, but you had been used in the past you no longer knew who you were.

He saw the hesitation in your eyes, so he took your hand and placed it over his heart. “Y/N I’m not going to hurt you, I genuinely fell for you, for he woman you are, for the little things I know about you… for the way you allowed me to be myself when the door is closed.”

He had been fighting it for so long, but with you he was allowed to strip down not only from his clothes, but from the heartless cold bastard he had to be in front of everyone else.

“Will you give me the chance?”

Looking down you fought against the lump that formed in your throat. “But how will you deal with my past and all the burden I’ve?”

“I’m not going to erase it, just like you can’t delete mine,” his fingers sunk in your disheveled curls, “but we can look forward and take it from there, together.”

As a single tear slid through your cheek, his thumb came to wipe it away, right before he crashed his lips once more and you believed him with all your heart because deep down you knew he was right.

A woman like you wasn’t so different than a man like him.

***

Master list

A/N: I’ve had this idea for a while now, guess it was time to post it, and I apologize because although I absolutely adore the concept I have been feeling a bit down and I’m not sure I was able to portray what I intended to…

Like always I’m so grateful if you decide to share your thoughts x

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @rangerelik @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @mrkdvidal1989 @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya (can’t tag) @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989

[likeabulldigidigibombombombom]

You’re so easy to read (Bang Chan x Fem!AFAB!reader)

Pairing: Bangchan x fem!AFAB!reader 

Trope/Genre: Childhood friends to lovers, smut, slight fluff

Warnings: MINORS DNI, Protected sex (because these bitches are being safe today), cookies are NOT more important than safety! Be safe! Some awkwardness in the smut

Bangchan is not an idol in this fic. Reader and Bangchan are in University. 

1,589 words (Idrk I'm bad at math)

Summary: Chan, who was your childhood best friend, moved away when he was 15. Plot twist! You two are accidental neighbors and he turns up to say hi. You talk for a bit. Stuff happens. 

One sunny day, about 14 years ago, you were swinging on some playground swings. Another kid who looked 5 years old came up to you, holding out an ice-block. “Here!” He said, smiling brightly. “I have an extra and I’m not very hungry.” You took it and unwrapped the desert. “Thank you!” You smiled at him and asked, “What’s your name?”.  

The two of you were an inseparable duo. You would do everything together. The teachers would sigh every year because you would end up in the same class, causing some extreme form of chaos. When you were in year 7, you two nearly burnt down the entire school because you pushed him a little too hard and he knocked over a bunsen burner. You both got suspended. 

The only class that you would relax in was music. Something that both of you enjoyed and participated enthusiastically in. He was way better at it than you, but you never cared. 

When you reached the age of 14, you developed a crush on him. You never acted on it out of fear of ruining your friendship. The year after that, Chan had to break the news to you that he was moving. It was to a city that was a whole flight away. After sharing a tearful goodbye and living four more years of your life, you never forgot about him. You may have lost his contact information after a year of not seeing him, but you never lost the memories, the laughter, and the feelings.

You had gone to a University far from home because you wanted to get away from some bad relationships that you had with people who lived close to your old home. You saved up money to get a dorm on campus with no roommates. It took a lot of hard work, but it paid off. You had just finished unloading all of your belongings when you heard a knock at the door. 

You peeped through the keyhole and saw that it was a man holding cookies. Cookies are always more important than safety so you opened the door. “Uh, hi! My name is Chan and I live next door. I was wondering if you wanted some cookies?” 

You looked at the familiar man. “Do I know you?” His eyes widened slightly. “Do I know you? Wait, what’s your name?” “Y/N. Nice to see you again Christopher.” You knew it annoyed him when you called him his full English name, but currently, he didn’t care. “Oh my gosh, I haven’t seen you in so long! How is everything going?” You suddenly remembered that he was standing in the hallway with a plate of cookies in his hand. “Do you want to come in?” “Sure!” He put the cookies down on your coffee table and hugged you before you both sat on the couch. 

“So,” You shifted awkwardly in your seat trying to think of something to say. “Do you remember when we almost poisoned your Mum?” He laughed. “Oh my god! Yeah!” When you were both 10 years old, Chan’s mum asked you to bake a cake. She had poured all of the ingredients into measuring cups, and you two didn’t realise that she had poured the milk into a measuring cup as well. As you two searched high and low for milk, Chan found a bottle of bleach that he poured into the mixing bowl. Just before you were about to take a bite, Chan’s mum found the measuring cup that was still full of milk sitting on the kitchen bench. She asked where the milk was that you used and Chan pointed to the bleach. 

“That wasn’t even the worst thing that we did!” He said. “We were such gremlins.” You stated. “That's for sure. I remember that when we were 14, you started acting really weird around me. I was so confused.” You felt your face heat up as you recalled the feelings for him that developed around that time. “Yeah, I can't even remember why.” You picked up a cookie and started eating it. “You look like you know.” “What do you mean by that?” “Well,” He leaned over to look closer at your face. “You’re blushing, and you don’t do that very often. You’re also avoiding eye contact, which you only do with people that you don't know, or when you’re lying.” Your face was burning at this point. You didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “I think you do. You’re so easy to read. It’s cute.” The tips of his ears slowly turned red. “Now, can you please tell me why you were so awkward around me?” Butterflies began to flutter around your stomach. “I want to, but I also don’t.” You joked. “Come on, please” He wined. “I won't bite.” You sighed and spoke. 

“I had a crush on you. A huge one.” He laughed. You cringed at what you had said, thinking that he thought it was stupid. “Oh, that! I already knew!” Your eyes widened. “What?” “Like I said before, you’re so easy to read.” “What are you? A psych major?” “No, a music major, pun not intended” “Your still jokes suck, they always have.” “And you’re still too scared to share your feelings.” There was silence. No one knew what to say. Chan spoke up.

“I bet I can guess what you’re thinking.” “Try me.” “Hmm… I think that you’re thinking about how embarrassing this all is, and how I'm making it worse by being a little shit.” “At least you’re self-aware.” “I can also tell that you still like me.” Your face turned crimson. “What do you mean?” You gave him an unconvincing innocent look. “Stop.” “Okay fine. Yes, I still like you.” “Good.” “Good?” “That means I can do this.”

He pressed his lips against yours. His lips were soft and his kisses were gentle. He wrapped his arms around you. The smell of his cologne was dizzying. His lips moved down to your neck as he trailed his way down to your collar. “Is this fine?” He asked, hesitating before taking off his shirt. You nodded as he lifted his shirt off, revealing his toned abs. The sight made chills run down your spine. “I thought you were blushing a lot before, but now…” He trailed off as your eyes met his. 

He continued kissing you, but he was rougher this time. Your lips parted slightly, giving him room to slide his tongue in. You took off your shirt and he unclipped your bra and placed it on the floor. As you undid the fly of your jeans, he pulled out a condom from his pocket and placed it beside you. “You’re so beautiful.” He said while taking off his pants. “I’ve always thought that about you.” “So have I. You’re absolutely breathtaking.” His face turned bright red. “Okay I wasn't expecting compliments today, just give me a moment.” “How can you not expect compliments when you look like this?!” He was completely naked, standing in front of you. He hid his face in his hands. “Can we please get this over with before I die of embarrassment?” “Aw, you’re so cute.”

He kissed you again as his hand trailed down to your thighs. “Are you sure this is okay? Because I’m so hard, I seriously need to fuck you right now.” “It’s okay.” You squeezed his hand before his tongue rolled over your clit. You let out a sharp moan. He started stroking his dick while his tongue was deep inside of you. “Hey, Chan?” He looked up at you with wide eyes. He looked so pretty, the sight made your stomach do backflips. 

“Could you maybe, uh, replace your tongue with your dick.” He laughed. “What the fuck was that delivery!?” “How was I meant to say it?” “I don’t know, maybe something a little more poetic.” He unwrapped the condom and rolled it down his cock. “Bang Chan sire, may you please place thine penis into my vagina?” He cackled. “I don’t even care anymore I just wanna be inside you.”

He thrusts into you with a grunt as you moan in pleasure. Your hips bucked as his pace slowly built, his dick was hitting your g-spot perfectly. He placed kisses around your breasts and stomach and moved up to suck on your neck. A singular soft kiss on your lips sent you over the edge. You let out a whine as you climaxed. Your walls clenched around Chan which caused him to whimper loudly and cum. You and Chan were both gasping for breath as he carefully pulled out of you.

“You are so pretty,” He continued, collapsing next to you. “And cute, and stunning, and perfect.” “And you are beautiful, and also all of those other words that you said.” He sat up. “Where are your cups? I’ll go get you some water.” “They’re on the top shelf in the kitchen, I can also show you where the towels are so you can shower.”

After you had both showered and cleaned up, you sat cuddled up on the couch watching a movie. “When I imagined meeting you again,” You began. “I never thought it would be like this.” He nodded. “I honestly hoped it would be like this.” “You’re such a simp.” “I’m your simp.” You rolled your eyes and tried hiding your smile underneath your hand.

“I can tell you’re smiling.” “What do you mean?” “You’re so easy to read.”

Author note: This is the first smut that I've ever written, so like always, constructive criticism is wanted! If you liked this, please follow me for more fanfics like this one <3

Masterlist

[vivalas-vega]

Oooh my, your requests are freaking open???? I've got an idea in my head for a long time and now I give it a try and send it to you. I'm obsessed with Jake (and Bradley) x Roomie (fem reader or oc) trope, so apologies in advance for this one (also a sucker for hurt and comfort 😬). I try to keep it as short as possible: Rooster's and Hangman's new roomie has a sad past. She has sleeping issues and bad nightmares. They hear her whimpering and crying in her sleep. The guys are worried but she plays it down, feeling bad for waking them up with her shit. Maybe she starts to sleep walking and unfortunately hurts herself during this episode. The guys find her in the middle if the night hurt. And she opens up to them telling them about her dreams and her past.

ahhhh !!! I'm so glad to finally get this one posted, I'm so sorry it took so long ! I am such a sucker for the roommate trope, and I love writing stories that are strictly platonic, just focusing on lovely friendship vibes bc those are just as important as the romantic ones !!! I hope you enjoy!

(this doesn't have a title yet bc it's admittedly the thing I'm the worst at when it comes to writing fics)

word count: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, some suggestive humor, language, brief and vague mentions of death, lmk if I missed any

“Are you going to eat these leftovers?” you asked Bradley, who was sitting at the kitchen island keeping you company as you cleaned out the fridge and he stared at the tupperware container for an infuriatingly long time, contemplating his options before you let out an exasperated sigh. “Bradshaw, it’s pasta. Yes or no?”

“No,” he finally answered. “You’re in a mood.” 

“No mood, it would just be nice if you could be snappier in your responses while you just watch me clean the kitchen.”

“Yeah, definitely not in a mood,” he muttered under his breath but you heard it anyway. “Do you know where Hangman is?”

“You two share a bathroom and you still can’t call him by his name?” you asked with a chuckle. “He’s at the gym, should be back soon.”

“We only share a bathroom because you got the master,” he protested and you laughed again.

“I needed the bigger closet,” you shrugged. “I told you you’re welcome to use mine anytime.”

“After you reamed me for using your face wash? Thank you, but no thank you, I haven’t been yelled at like that since I borrowed my moms car to take Cindy Daniels on a date.”

“I only yelled because you used a forty dollar cleanser as body wash and somehow managed to use half the bottle. Besides, your mom was right to yell at you too, you stole her car and you were thirteen.”

“I was covered in grease! And my date with Cindy is none of your business.” 

“Are we having the face wash fight again?” Jake asked as he came in through the garage, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he reached around you to grab a bottle of water, but you only pushed him away, muttering something about keeping his sweat away from you. “Take the blame, Chicken, you wasted half a bottle of Drunk Elephant, you’re lucky she didn’t put you on the porch for the night.”

“See, the craziest thing about this whole situation is you were just as outraged as she was.”

“Good skincare is not just for women, you might want to invest in a routine of your own.” he smirked before disappearing down the hallway and you heard the sound of the shower turning on.

“You working tomorrow?” Bradley asked, getting up to wash the containers you’d placed near the sink.

You shook your head, “a Friday and Saturday off, Penny was feeling extra generous.” You’d met the two of them, along with the rest of the team, when they’d first gotten to town for the infamous and secretive mission that almost claimed the life of the man currently donning cherry-printed cleaning gloves and scrubbing pasta sauce out of tupperware. You’d all become fast friends, they’d coax you out from behind the bar on your breaks or when your shift was over for darts or pool, and when your lease was up just as they received word of a permanent assignment it seemed to make sense for the three of you to find a place together. It was a godsend for you, it got you out of your cramped apartment with dismal lighting and into a beautiful craftsman only a few blocks away from the beach. Even with arguments with Bradley about face wash and a sweaty Jake, it was a no-brainer.

“Could we convince you into coming to your place of work on a night off? These new recruits are testing our patience, Phoenix wants a fun night out to blow off steam.”

“I could potentially be persuaded,” you replied, shutting the fridge after deeming it was as cleared out as it was going to get. 

“Which translates to as long as I’m not mixing them, I’ll always show up for drinks,” Jake said, walking back into the kitchen with freshly washed hair. “Do I get any kind of welcome home now that I’m not sweaty?” 

“No, because now you’re wet, did you even dry off?” you asked, snapping him with a dish towel before he rounded the island and wrapped his arms around you.

“Enough,” he answered, squeezing you tight as you pretended to hate it. Really, you loved living with these two. Being on your own before was starting to take its toll on you, and they reminded you of a different time in your life, one that felt like it was ancient history. “Not to dampen the mood, but… we did want to talk to you about something.”

“Sounds serious, should I break out the house meeting wine?” you asked, eyeing them skeptically as they shared a look with each other that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“We just wanted to… check in,” Bradley started and you raised your eyebrows. “The past few weeks we’ve heard certain sounds coming from your room and-”

“Okay, first of all,-” you started to cut him off, eyes wide at what you thought he was insinuating.

“Not like that, sweetheart,” Jake interjected. “But feel free to get louder when you do,” he half-joked and you hit him with the towel again. “What bird boy is trying to say is sometimes we hear what sounds like nightmares coming from your room and it’s happened enough that we just want to check in and see if everything is okay.” You suddenly felt nauseous. 

“If there’s something going on, or you need someone to talk to, you know we’re here, right?” Bradley asked and you nodded softly.

“I know, everything is fine, I’m sorry if I woke you.” you said, trying to dismiss their concerns altogether as you occupied yourself with looking over the mail.

“It’s just… it doesn’t sound fine, if you don’t want to talk to us we can help you find someone else to talk to, we just want to make sure you’re okay.” Jake tried and you gave him a forced smile.

“And I am, but I’m glad the two of you finally found something to agree on.” You tossed some junk mail in the garbage before turning to face them again, “I have some errands I want to run early tomorrow morning… text me if you need anything from the store but I’m going to turn in. Goodnight,” you said with another forced smile before heading down the hall and letting out a sigh as your back pressed against your closed bedroom door. You thought that things had gotten better… that enough time had passed. They seemed to be happening less and less, but maybe that wasn’t as true as you once thought. 

Your footsteps down the hallway were an unusual sound for this time of night… nightmares or not, once you went to bed you weren’t seen until the following morning and it was enough to stir Jake from his slumber. You on the other hand, were completely unaware of what was going on, still stuck in a dream, stuck in a fluorescent lit hallway with tears streaming down your face only you weren’t… you were in your living room, walking straight into the console table and falling onto the broken glass of the picture frames and vases you’d knocked over which was enough to jolt both of them out of bed. 

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” Bradley asked, crouching down beside you as you came to.

“Mav- Maverick?” you asked, voice hoarse as you struggled to place where you were, the images from your dream still fresh in your mind. He looked at Jake confused who was on the other side of you and carefully pushing glass aside.

“No, it’s Bradley… Honey, what happened?” You blinked a few times, finally recognizing you were on the floor of your living room and the searing pain of broken glass in your palms and knees.

“I don’t- oh my god. I’m so sorry,” you winced as you tried to stand but Jake was quick to scoop you up, holding you tight as he walked to the kitchen and carefully placed you next to the sink while Bradley grabbed the first aid kit. “I- I didn’t mean to wake you, I’m okay, you can go back to bed.” He just frowned at you and when Bradley returned he started pulling the shards from your palms while Jake worked on your knees. Silent tears were still streaming down your face and they were both trying to figure out how to ask you what was wrong, but one thing they knew for certain was no one was going back to bed until they got to the bottom of what was going on with you.

“Sweetheart, do you want to tell us what’s going on?” Jake asked softly, looking up briefly to meet your eyes before gently running his thumb along your cuts, making sure there weren’t any pieces he missed. 

You shook your head as you wiped your cheeks, “nothing, I just… I don’t know, I guess I was half-asleep? I’m really sorry I woke you,” you said and they both looked at you like they didn’t believe a word of it.

“Alright, I was willing to maybe let it go before but you could have been seriously hurt tonight. Something is going on with you,” Jake said, voice firm as he stopped what he was doing to wipe a few of your tears.

“Whatever it is, you can tell us. Why did you say Maverick’s name when you woke up?” Bradley asked and you closed your eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath before letting it all out. 

“I uh… there’s something I never told you about me.” you started, taking a moment to breathe as you felt your throat tighten. They stayed quiet, both carefully dabbing at your cuts with a damp cloth or rubbing aquaphor over them before bandaging them. “I wasn’t a teacher before realizing I liked bartending more, I was a pilot.”

“Wait, what?” Bradley asked, shock evident in his tone and Jake elbowed him, eyes silently pleading for you to continue. 

“My callsign is- or was Flash… like the superhero,” you chuckled but there wasn’t much humor in it and both of their eyes widened. “I was on a mission that went south really fast,  we were outnumbered and outgunned, we ran out of resources quickly. I was hit, and I couldn’t… I couldn’t save it, I couldn’t save him.” you choked out.

“Who?” Bradley whispered, you were all cleaned up now and they were both focused solely on you. Jake was rubbing reassuring circles on your thigh as Bradley held one of your hands in his own.

“My wizzo, we called him Genie… we both got to our squad at the same time, and on our first night out his icebreaker was if you had three wishes, what would you wish for?” You laughed again, but this time it was genuine.

“I’ve heard of him,” Jake said, noticing your breathing quicken just at the mention of him. “Both of you, actually, from what I’ve heard you were a hell of a pilot.”

“He couldn’t eject, something went wrong with the handles… I’d already pulled mine when I heard him say they were stuck and the next thing I know the jet is crashing into a hillside below me. I thought the dreams were getting better, and that I was maybe starting to move past it… I don’t think I really registered that it was happening again, or maybe that it never stopped.” 

“Honey, why didn’t you tell us this sooner?” Bradley asked, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear and you focused your gaze on your hands.

“I just… I didn’t want you to know that I failed my wizzo,” you choked out. “Or that the last time I was in a cockpit I nearly crashed again and Mav had to talk me through landing a plane I’ve landed thousands of times before because I panicked. I didn’t want you guys to censor yourselves when it came to work stuff out of pity for me being a failed pilot, and I guess… I just didn’t want you guys to look at me differently.”

“Hey, what happened wasn’t your fault,” Jake said, squeezing your thigh gently and prompting you to look up at him. “And we would never look at you differently for that, we understand.”

“I’m so sorry you went through that… and just know that we don’t think of you as a failure. We’ve both heard about that mission, there was nothing you could have done. Faulty equipment and being outgunned is not your burden to bear.” Bradley added, running a hand along your back.

“What is it that you say sometimes? It’s not the plane, it’s the pilot?” you asked, sadness seeping into your tone and he just pulled you into his side and pressed a kiss to your head.

“There’s not much the pilot can do if the plane fails them.”

“You went through a trauma, we would never fault you for not flying again after that.” Jake said and you smiled softly.

“Mav could… god, he tried so hard, he was really there for me after it happened, but… when I finally got back into a plane I just couldn’t shake it. It was like I could still hear him in my backseat even though he wasn’t there.”

“Just because Mav could, that doesn’t mean you’re a lesser pilot or a lesser person for not being able to, if anything I think it makes you stronger. You knew your limits, and instead of pushing through it when you couldn’t trust flying again you took a step back. I know a lot of people who wouldn’t make that same choice.” Bradley said, nudging Jake and you let out a laugh as you wiped your face again.

“Yeah, I thank my lucky stars I never crossed this one’s path when I was still flying,” you said and Jake’s face twisted up in shock.

“Hey, why are we ganging up on me now?” he asked and you laughed again. 

“You make it so easy,” you teased and they both smiled, happy to see you coming back into yourself a little.

“We’re here for you, okay? So is everyone else,” Bradley said, pulling you into him again and you let yourself wrap your arms around him as you laid your head on his chest and Jake kept rubbing circles into your skin.

“No matter what, you can always come wake us up if you need someone.”

“I love you guys, you know that?” 

You could hear the smirk in Jake’s voice as he said, “oh, we know.” He wrapped himself around the other side of you as the two of them squished you between them. “We love you too.”

taglist: @callsignspirit @thegodessc @failuretothrivestuff @olliepig @cruelmissdior @underaveragefangirl @grxcieluvr @amatswimming @camilaricci @nolita-fairytale @dempy @pinkpantheris @aviatorobsessed @tiredqueen73 @pono-pura-vida @binnieslove @nik2blog @waklman @abaker74 @halstead-severide-fan @percysaidnever @memeorydotcom @eli2447 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @djs8891 @Genius2050 @stargazer-88 @chloeforde @kmc1989 @casa-boiardi (if your name is struck through, it means I couldn't tag you - sorry!)

[anxious-lee]

A Sudden Diversion - A Lackadaisy Tickle Fic

Lee: Freckle

Lers: Ivy and Rocky

----

Evidently, plowing an automobile through several thickets and insisting it is a "short-cut" is dangerous.

This may have been a revelation to Rocky, but Freckle could have told him that from the beginning. In fact, he tried.

Yet, here they were: in the Lackadaisy's cluttered garage, mending the battering inflicted on their poor vehicle. The car was nicked and scratched from the shrubbery, not unlike its occupants. The engine compartment would have been just fine had the frenzied tom Rocky not rammed it into a tree's trunk. All in all, the damages were unnecessary and very expensive. To say that Miss Mitzi was peeved at the three stooges would be an understatement. Due to the speakeasy's lack of adequate funds, the car's repairs would need to be done by Rocky, Ivy, and Freckle, as reparations for ruining the car in the first place. Freckle supposed that being placed on mechanic duty wasn't the worst punishment Miss Mitzi could have dealt. Although, if anyone should have to be saddled with this chore, it should be Rocky. He's the one who made the mess in the first place.

But, perhaps it was for the best. It was safer in the garage than it was out there on the liquor-lined battlefield.

All three colleagues sat, working away silently. Or rather, almost silently, as Rocky could only take the deafening quiet for so long before he broke out into a hum. Some tune that neither Freckle nor Ives recognized. The musician himself was made useful by patching up the old paint job, while the two lovers dug through their toolbox, looking for the appropriate equipment to repair the engine.

Freckle had seen plenty of danger in his lifetime with his cousin. Hell, toughing through peril was practically his best trait as an officer in training. But each adventure wore down a little bit more of his psyche. And some nights, like tonight, there was nothing left to wear.

He was exhausted, both from the team's little excursion and the mental power it took not to have a panic attack.

Ivy, who sat at his right, learned over time to recognize these feelings through observation. Because odds were, Freckle wouldn't say it directly. She could pretty much discern and dissect every Freckle frown.

She was gonna make him smile.

She began with a little smirk of her own.

"Car maintenance isn't the peachiest job in the world, but at least we get some quality time together," Ivy said, batting her eyelids.

Brought out of his daze by the sudden sound of her voice, Freckle glanced up at Ivy quickly. He couldn't help but smile sheepishly at her flirtatious remarks.

But Ivy wasn't going to stop there.

"Y'know, I hardly ever get to witness you in your element. Tinkering away with your gadgets, and gizmos, and... whosiwhatsits, " she finished with a flippant backhand toward the toolbox.

Freckle seemed bashful to turn bashful at that.

"Oh. I'm no professional. My mum taught me everything I know, and when it became just me and her in that house, I had to step in and help with the maintenance. If I'm being honest, I'm more familiar with the back-end of a kitchen sink than I am with motor vehicle repair," he cringed.

"Relentlessly humble, as always," Rocky piped in suddenly, "Ol' Freckle Face never could take a compliment, however deserved or warranted."

"Yeah! C'mon McMurray, you're doing most of the heavy lifting here! Little did Miss M. know that when she hired a gunman, she also hired a handyman," said Ivy.

The extra attention was getting to Freckle, so much so that he hadn't noticed when his cheeks began to burn hot.

"It's really not a big deal-"

"I'll say it is, and no take-backsies!" Ivy declared. For emphasis, she burrowed a single claw into his armpit.

Freckle tittered softly and tilted his body away from his attacker.

"Kheehehe, quit it," he near-whispered.

"What will you do if I dont?" Ivy dared playfully.

What to answer with, Freckle hadn't the faintest. His upturned mouth opened and shut a few times, hoping that the perfect reasoning would spring from his lips at any moment. Finally, he spoke.

"We're not gohonna finish our wohork," he retorted lamely.

"Oh yeah? Is that what it is you're scared of? The job?" purred Ivy. She once again buried her pointer claw into the crook of his underarm. It took some more digging than the first time due to Freckle's attempts to keep his arm flat against his side. When she settled into her target, she scritched everywhere she could reach.

"Yehes!" Freckle said, much louder and desperate than he intended. He was squirming a little more now, bent in a seventy-degree angle, but still holding down his position. The first giggle, he couldn't control. The second, third, and fourth, however, he was determined to swallow down. His lips pressed into a wobbly smile, hoping that if he didn't laugh, she wouldn't continue.

That only made her tickle harder.

"You trying to hold it in? Good luck, 'cause my little brothers tried the same trick, and it did not last long," warned Ivy.

And it was true. Before long, his firmly shut lips did nothing to prevent his giggles from escaping. They sounded more like pleaful whimpers.

It wasn't that Freckle hated her little games, but succumbing to something so childish as tickling was easier said than done. Not to mention the fact that they were in public, where any one of the speakeasy's employees could walk in on them.

Within a matter of seconds, Ivy brought both claws into both armpits and was tickling away.

Freckle gave a laugh of surprise, a notch louder than before. He knew there was no fighting her now. The tingly electricity on both sides of his body overtook him, and he slid to the floor, with his back pressed against it. Ivy followed, now hooked by his incredible laughter.

"You crazy kids ought to keep your hands off of each other. Otherwise, people might get the idea that you two are les amoureux," Rocky called from his place at the car, voice shining with sarcasm. He was watching them now and smirking unsympathetically at his troubled cousin.

"We are les amoureux, Rocky," Ivy called back.

For some reason, Ivy holding a conversation with Rocky while Freckle was underneath her laughing pitifully was making the sensation worse. As his face burned brighter, Freckle turned his head away from her in an attempt to save himself the embarrassment of having her look upon his cheesy face.

"Awh~! Poor boy is embarrassed!" Ivy cooed, taking one hand away from his arm and cupping his cheek with it, pulling his face back to her.

"You are practically burning up!" she gasped, "Are you blushing~?"

The saints above could not help poor Freckle now.

He didn't grace that question with an answer and instead whined through his laughter. This could not get more humiliating.

"I missed that big smile! And that laugh. I love it when you laugh. It's so cute!" the feisty woman squealed.

"Nohoho, it's nohohot!" Freckle squealed louder. His paws, which had been tucked in like T-Rex arms to his chest, were now covering everywhere on his face he could reach.

"It's a shame that me admiring you flusters you so terribly, because I'm not going to stop any time soon. You're all mine to adore, Calvin McMurray~"

Holy hell.

The teasing's subject cried out in ticklish agony and released a new wave of laughter.

"This would be easier if- you know- I'll think I'll just- there we go!" Ivy maneuvered herself to sit behind Freckle's head while she pinned his hands under her knees. Now he was on full display, with no hope of saving his dignity.

"Tickle, tickle, tickle~" she teased as both hands came back down to lightly skitter over and across his belly. Freckle laughed uproariously, unable to hold anything back, his pure-hearted cackle ringing out throughout the garage.

It was almost more than he could bear.

Almost.

"DOHOHONT SAHAY THAT!"

"Why not?"

"IT MAHAKES IT WOHORSE!"

"Ah, good tip! Definitely will be making use out of this. Kitchee kitchee kitchee kitchee coo~!"

Ivy moved her paws towards his hips, squeezing them faster than was merciful.

Freckle's laugh deepened in pitch immediately, sounding more like a maniacal cackle.

"Pretty good targets, Miss Pepper, but you're neglecting some key players in this game of torture!" said Rocky.

"It's not torture! He's fine! Aren't you, sweetie?"

Freckle almost said no, but he was too busy laughing. Laughing from an attack he let happen. If he really detested it, he could have ended this from the beginning, and he knew that. But there was no real danger here. Not with Ivy. Not with Rocky, either. He knew they would never hurt him.

Nevertheless, when one is being pinned down and tickled stupid, the only thought your mind will allow is 'STOP'.

Rocky strode over to Ivy's side and looked down at his cousin.

"Me and Freckle used to get into many a battle such as these when we were little tykes. I triumphed them all, naturally, and I still remember his spots," the tomcat gave Ivy a wink and planted himself on Freckle's legs. "You go for the neck, I'll go for the knees."

"ROHOCKY!!" cried Freckle, betrayed.

"Ooo! Those are good ones!" cheered Ivy.

"ISN'T AHANYONE GOING TO WOHORK ON THE CAHAHAR?!"

"No", they both replied.

They began their double team attack on Freckle's tickle spots. Ivy went to work fluttering in every crevice of his neck, while Rocky rubbed and squeezed his kneecaps, occasionally giving a swift scribble to the undersides.

Freckle couldn't believe how absurd this scenario was. Here he was, now shrieking and giggling shrilly like a small child, while his two closest teammates were tickling him to pieces. He didn't bother to question it any more, simply surrendering to his silly fate and taking the opportunity to let everything go. He had been harboring so much guilt and anxiety over the past few days. Over the past few weeks even. What better time to abandon all sensible thought, what better time to look away from his reality of crime and war, what better time to simply be with his friends, safe and at peace, then now?

But he still needed to breathe, so Ivy let up and released his hands from her hold. Rocky dismounted from his legs and backed away cheerily to give the man some space.

Freckle immediately wrapped his arms around his waist and tucked his legs into himself, tail swishing wildly as he let out his remaining chuckles. As he caught his breath, he looked up at Ivy.

Ivy's expression was kind. "You feeling ok?"

Freckle couldn't stop grinning, and it wasn't from the tickles.

"Y-yeah," he sighed in relief.

"Yes, good man, laughing yourself up a storm, now come on, let's take a break from the car and head to the bar downstairs!" said Rocky.

"You mean after the break we just took from our work?" Ivy smirked.

"I don't know about you two, but all this horseplay has worked up my thirst. Whadd'ya say, Baby Face? Want to grab a beer?" Rocky reached a hand down to help him up.

Freckle was repulsed by the idea of drinking alcohol himself, but Rocky knew that as well, using it as a conversational turn of phrase.

The orange cat softened in agreement.

"Sure."

Rock wasted no time in trotting out the door, hungry for an ice cold scotch.

The two stragglers, now alone, slowly followed behind. As they walked, Ivy stretched an experimental pinkie out to Freckle's. He wasted no time in linking his paw with hers and pulling her to his side.

Not the worst of punishments, indeed.

-------

You know what, I eventually got hungry enough for lackadaisy fic that I wrote one myself. I haven't completed a fic in well over a year, but this franchise is beyond inspiring enough to birth this fic ❤️

@veryblushyswitch @someone1348 @kasey-writes-stuff @ticklyfluffstuff

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Flufftober Day 29 | I'll always be by your side

Pairing | Boyfriend!Tony Stark x Avenger!Girlfriend!Female!Reader

Word count | 1.4K

Summary | What was supposed to be a comfortable, easy Sunday turned into one of the worst as you're caught off guard by your period and in horrible pain. Luckily, your boyfriend, Tony, is by your side the entire time to make you feel better and spoil you absolutely rotten.

Warning(s) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Light angst, lots of fluff, extreme menstrual cramps, mentions of a period, descriptions of period blood on sheets/clothing, and Tony is the best boyfriend ever.

Prompt(s) | 29. “Hey, wake up!” | @flufftober

A/n | Thank you to @ccbsrmsf1 for inspiring this sugary sweet Tony fic now that I am going through my monthly hell! I appreciate the thought you put into this fic along with me, and it wouldn't be this perfect without you 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 🧡

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | GIF credit goes to @ccbsrmsf1

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | Flufftober Masterlist

Tony left early in the morning to work in his lab, seeing how it was a rainy Sunday at the beginning of October. You didn't have any plans for the day, so he let you sleep in, seeing how you'd returned from a month-long mission a few days ago.

As always, he'd leave you with some small kisses on your forehead, and even in your sleep, you always smiled when you got them, and it is one of the many things Tony finds endearing about you.

However, your peaceful state was rudely interrupted when you were pulled from your sleep with a horrific case of cramping from your uterus, notifying you that your period had begun.

"Are you okay, Ms Y/L/N? Should I call Mr Stark up here?" Jarvis asks, and all you can let out is a whimper of pain as you're doubled over, clutching your stomach in the hopes it'll go away soon, but if your past has taught you anything, this won't be the case.

Meanwhile, Tony gets a very concerning message from his AI in the lab. "Sir? It appears that Mrs Y/L/N is very distressed-" is all he hears before he practically flies out of the lab and up to where you are.

Taking the stairs instead of the elevator so he will reach you sooner, he almost breaks down the door when he hears your sobs tear through the entire bedroom.

"Gorgeous?! Are you okay? What's going on?!" Tony asks frantically, but you can't speak as you're already struggling to breathe from the sobbing, and the pain only worsens everything.

He gets onto the bed and pulls the comforter away, but he doesn't need to ask what's wrong because there's a lot of blood on the sheets and the mattress since you always have an extremely heavy flow.

"Oh, Gorgeous, I'm so sorry," Tony sighs worriedly, knowing just how bad your pain must be by now. You can't look at him as he comes over because you're embarrassed about the state you're in right now.

"Shall I run a bath for you? You can take some painkillers before, and I will climb in with you for extra cuddles; maybe I can massage your lower belly if you want to relieve some of your cramping and pain," he asks.

You can't answer as your entire body shakes and shocks through your tears and sobs as the pain worsens, and you're only curling in further.

Tony takes the hint and runs you a nice hot bath with a calming scent and extra bubbles before he comes to fetch you out of bed and ready for the bath he just ran.

"C'mere Gorgeous, you're going to be okay; I'm with you, okay? I'll always be here with you," he whispers in your ear as he carries you to the bathroom, where he sits you down on the counter, blood be damned.

Your eyes are tightly shut as you try to breathe deeply in and out between the sobs rocking through your body with more significant intervals, trying to pick yourself together.

You don't know that Tony has ordered Happy to buy you a couple of things as a care package for when you get out of the bath, with many things to help you feel better.

"C'mon, Gorgeous, let's get some medicine into you, and then we're getting into the warm, relaxing water," he says, and you nod before taking the medicine. Tony hands you together with some water.

When that's gone, you slowly open your eyes again and look up at Tony with a watery smile as if you're still on the verge of crying. You look into Tony's comforting dark brown eyes of your boyfriend.

"Hi, Gorgeous," he whispers as he places his big, warm hands on your cheeks, pulling you towards him as he meets you halfway with a kiss on your forehead, then the tip of your nose, and lastly, a small kiss on your lips, which you melt into.

"Shall we get you out of these clothes and into the bath? I promise it'll make you feel better," he reassures you, and you let him undress you, your shirt and bra gone first, before standing up and taking your pants and underwear off.

Both of them are completely ruined, and you look at them with disgust as you sigh, clutching your lower belly as you lean into Tony's touch, letting his big, strong arms envelop you into a warm hug.

"Let's get you into the warm water first, and I'll be right with you, okay?" he asks, and you nod before he guides you in and makes sure you get into the water safely.

"I'll be here in a few minutes; I'm just going to change the sheets so they will be nice and clean when we get in, okay?" he asks as he sits on his haunches, and you nod. Before he walks away, he puts on your favorite music, and you let yourself sink into the warmth of the water, hands splayed on your lower abdomen.

Tony takes the clothes you were with him before stripping the bed and putting new sheets on, right when Happy knocks on the door with the basket he bought.

Inside is a huge, thick blanket with hearts, a mint green fuzzy pajama with matching fuzzy socks, a new hot water bottle, your favorite tea flavor, some snacks including your favorite chocolate, and a book from your wishlist.

After a quick thanks, he puts it on the bed so it'll be front and center when you return. He quickly undresses and walks back into the bathroom, where he finds you lying contently in the bath, softly singing along to the music.

"How's everything feeling, Gorgeous?" he asks as you sit up, ready for him to slide in behind you. When he's seated, you let yourself melt into his touch, and his hands slide over your stomach and to your lower abdomen to massage softly.

You let out soft groans as he digs his fingers softly into your flesh to relax you, your head against his shoulder as you feel the pain slowly fade underneath his touch, combined with the painkillers he gave you.

"Just relax for me, Gorgeous; you're okay; I got you," he says between soft kisses on your cheek, leaving you utterly speechless from the sweetness he's putting into every little touch and word.

The warmth of the water and the relaxing scent of lavender is seeping into your skin, relaxing you entirely until you manage to sleep a little, and Tony can't help but smile at the soft snores leaving you.

He keeps his hands on your belly in a protective manner before the water gets too cold and he has to wake you up, much to your dismay.

"Hey, it's time to wake up, Gorgeous," Tony says as he softly nudges you, and with a groan, you open your eyes and sit forward, though you don't want to leave his warm and strong embrace.

"It'll be worth it, I promise," he says as he stands up and wraps a towel around his waist before helping you up too. When you're out, he wraps you in the fluffiest and biggest towel, and you're wrapped up like a burrito.

"How're you feeling after your nap? Ready to eat something?" Tony asks, and you nod, finally able to walk normally without cramping, though you're still uncomfortable.

When you're dry and wearing clean underwear with a pad, you're making your way to the bedroom with Tony plastered to your back as he's functioning as a human hot water bottle with his hands.

When you see the basket on the bed, you stop as you see the sight before you and want to turn around to thank him for arranging it.

"Thank you for caring for me, but can I wear the pajamas now? Because they look very comfortable," you say in almost a whisper, and he nods with a big smile before letting you go and rummage through the package.

"Shall we watch a movie on the couch today? You can pick the movie and bring as many snacks as you want," he offers, and you gladly accept before putting on the pajamas and fuzzy socks, getting ready for your movie to watch together.

When Tony comes back with a bowl of your favorite caramel popcorn and a big mug filled with tea, your heart skips a beat from pure love, and when he sits down, you can't keep it to yourself, and it will be the first time you tell him these special words.

"I love you, Tony."

[thesecretsoftheuniverse]

Could u do jealous neteyam headcannons or a fic pls? I love all ur works and ur writing style!

clouded perception !

– pairing neteyam x gn!reader | wc 2.6k | warnings a lot of jealousy, a lot of angst i guess (i had way too much fun with this oops) but also some fluff | what's inside neteyam has to learn how to deal with something he has never felt before as he watches you train with a close friend – authors note my first request! how exciting! i'm sorry it took so long. i hope i did your wishes justice anonie and thank you for the kind words! also feedback is of course always appreciated (and i'm the worst at naming fics haha) :)

neteyam excelled in anything you could possibly think of, especially in activities related to hunting, whether it was tracking, archery or flying. he was a natural in everything he persued. so obviously he felt hurt when you decided so ask another one of the skilled young na’vi to help you practice your shooting skills as you had always had a hard time keeping up with the others when it came to using your bow and arrow. you were training to become a healer, which put different qualities to a test. ever since you had been romantically involved with neteyam mo’at startet to take you under her wing to make sure you grew into your role of a possible future tsahík. but knowing every detail about plants and their healing capabilities and getting taught how to nurse and how to form a close bond with ewya didn’t spare you from basic training in archery to be able to defend yourself and your people if it ever came to a worst case scenario. this was the reason why you started to spend more time than usual with one of your closest childhood friends – ‘anoa. it didn’t pass anyone that he was one of the most promising young warriors of the clan, frequently being compared to neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan, the golden boy and child progidy of the clan. but neteyam had been busy, now more than ever. if he wasn’t with the hunting party, he was planning with his dad for an upcoming raid, assisting him where- and whenever he could. because of that the time you and neteyam shared was scarce and most definitely not used to get additional lessons in archery. that was why you confided in your best friend who gladly accepted your request.

one morning you and ‘anoa were standing on the edge of a clearing, facing makeshift targets. it was still early, the first rays of sunshine barely touching the tips of the trees and morning dew still covering the grass. your back was resting against ‘anoa’s bare chest as you were repeating the basics while drawing your bow, him correcting your position again and again, “you need more core strength. mind your abdominal muscles.” he turned over, pressing the palm of his hand against your stomach, which was slowly rising and falling from your deep breaths, “more, more.” as you were trying your best to tense your muscles just like ‘anoa instructed you pulled funny faces to make your training seem extra exhausting and get a smile out of your friend. “skxawng,” ‘anoa chuckled, slightly tapping the side of your head, but immediately returning to a more serious demeanour, “now just position your elbow a little bit higher and put your hand next to your cheek. close your eyes and feel your breath tingling your skin. sense the tension flooding your body and how it spreads to your arms and legs as you pull the string of your bow,” he said with a calm voice while correcting the placement of your left hand. “good. now that we’ve freshened up that bit try and give it a shot.” you focused on your target, feeling the hot breath tickling the skin of your fingers, mentally checking your position one last time. your mind shut down completely as you were focusing on what was in front of you before you let go of the arrow, seeing it flying into the direction of your target and hitting its center. you heard the impact as the arrowhead drilled itself into the trunk of the tree. “hey, you’re a natural! i don’t even know why we’ve been practicing all morning”, 'anoa cheered with a smile, giving you a side-hug. unbeknownst to you you had been watched. neteyam noticed how you had been up too early for you linking and left the village. surprised by your secretive behaviour and also wondering what you were up to was why he decided to follow you, which led to him hiding in the thicket of the forest, closely observing your little meet up. he knew that he could trust you and that you would never go behind is back. he also knew ‘anoa and what he meant to you, that you had been growing up together and that both of you were very close, almost like siblings as you yourself never had one. this was rather unnatural to na’vi, who tended to come in big families. but due to that you and ‘anoa were basically a package deal as over time he became something like a substitute sibling to you. and neteyam also knew that ‘anoa was already having a partner, a lovely girl. neteyam hadn’t been introduced to her yet, but he knew that she was a talented weaver and that she occasionally helped out his mother if there was something needed last minute while preparing for special occasions. but still, neteyam couldn’t help but let jealousy cloud his thinking, especially when he should’ve been the one standing there with you, with your back pressed against his body, him adjusting your movements and watching you beaming with pride after successfully making your shot. jealousy – something he had never felt before. something he never had to feel, as every male na’vi knew who you belonged to and that the son of the olo’eyktan is someone not to be messed with . so they always kept their distance. neteyam contemplated whether he should interrupt your training session, but settled on heading back to the village, still lost in his thoughts and having a frown on his face, angrily pushing aside every branch crossing his way as he was desperately trying to get rid of the irrational feeling sitting in his guts, which was slowly spreading through his body and engulfing his mind.

something was off. you could almost smell it in the air. this undetectable feeling was following you around all day long, haunting you at work while you were taking care of the wounded, ill and elderly. it was eating away at the food as you were sitting on the floor sharing dinner with your lover’s family and it followed you into your sleep. you couldn’t tell what exactly it was, but something was different. at first it didn’t really catch your attention as you thought this was just a phase. the day of the raid, which had been planned for weeks, was coming closer. so not only was every clan member busy with preparations as everyone who could in some way contribute was imposed with tasks depending on what their role and function within the clan was, but everyone was mostly stressed and worried. over time dinners started to become quieter as the mood shifted. even tuk, who tended to talk your ears off, wasn’t as chatty as usual. in the morning you suddenly were left without a loving peck on your temple, in the evening you weren’t greeted with a welcoming hug, being asked about your day. and this was going on for days. kiri was the first one to notice, to notice how neteyam was the one who grew more distant. more distant of you. how the first thing asking about after coming back from a hunt wasn’t you and your well-being or how he started to barely mention you anymore, requiting questions about you asked in his presence with a grunt. he started to become closed off and stopped talking about you, the light of his life. someone he normally didn’t shut up about. really, he stopped talking to anyone as time went by and jealousy started to consume him, wondering about why you felt the need of turning away from him, self-doubts starting to creep in. neteyam was a people pleaser, always trying his best for everyone around him. not meeting expectations was definitely something he was afraid of. he was afraid, if he had given you too little and if that was why you were turning to someone else, to someone better than him. the mighty warrior was afraid of being inferior. a fear he had been carrying with him ever since he had been able to think, something that had always been sitting in the back of his mind and now his worst nightmare seemingly became reality. losing his love, the one he was destined to be with, to someone else. to an outsider watching this probably seemed like an overreaction, like something blown completely out of proportion. you had been enamoured by neteyam ever since you were children. even a blind one was able to see it. so of course not a single soul would have possibly doubted your connection and your relationship, but neteyam was seeing red as he was confronted with something he was afraid of the most – losing a loved one, which changed his perception severely.

now that he became hyper-aware of the relationship of you and ‘anoa neteyam didn’t fail to miss every tiny interaction between you and your friend. he noticed ‘anoa’s subtle touches and how he put his hand on your lower back to bring you comfort. and neteyam saw the little wrinkles under your eyes, which always started to show whenever someone made you laugh so hard you had to hold your stomach and throw your head back. he noticed more than ever how ‘anoa made you laugh in that specific way, in a way only neteyam should have made you laugh. these little things hadn’t been anything new, but they started to bother him. it started to bother him that he wasn’t the only one in your life, even though this was something that had been off the table since the very beginning of your relationship as this was never going to happen anyway. he knew how much space ‘anoa took up in your life. but nonetheless you had never given your boyfriend any reason to doubt you or your love for him.

when neteyam started to brush off your absent-minded touches the both of you had been sharing ever since you started going out it finally dawned on you. it wasn’t the raid that occupied your lover’s mind, it had been you. but not in a good way. all of a sudden so many things made sense. how neteyam had been deliberately avoiding you all this time. how neytiri started to watch you and her oldest son with a worried look on her face, knowing that there was nothing in the world she could do make the situation any better as she knew she had to let you figure this out yourselves. and how kiri’s behaviour towards her brother became almost unbearable after she finally put two and two together. so you decided to take neteyam aside in an unwatched moment and make him listen to you. you didn’t know yet how to do that, but your plan had been set.

as you were on a break from your duties and sitting outside of one of the healer’s tents, thinking about how you could approach the issue, which had been on your mind for several days at that point you spotted neteyam. he was just about to leave for the next war council, accompanying his father who was discussing the next steps with other great warriors of the clan. you knew there probably would have come a better moment than this to stop him from whatever he was doing in order to talk. but you had to get this sorted, especially when anything could happen to neteyam during the planned raid. so you pulled yourself together, got up and headed into the same direction as him, following him into the woods. after a few minutes of just walking neteyam finally made a halt. you noticed the tips of his ears perking up, which gave away that he had heard you and that he knew who had been tracing his every step. neteyam inhaled deeply before slightly turning his head and acknowledging your presence, “y/n, I know you’re here with me.” you hesitated to react and give away your hiding spot. “you can come out. i know you’ve been following me ever since i left the village. i noticed your step pattern.” shit, you thought. of course he did. you slowly emerged from behind the plants you were hiding, not caring about the leaves rustling and the branches cracking under your feet. “yeah, it’s me”, you confirmed. you hesitantly approached him from behind, trying to not get too close as you didn’t want to intrude his space. neteyam lowered his head, still having his back turned to you, as you confessed, “i wanted to talk.” “well, but I don’t want to talk”, he requited. even though he was so quiet he was almost whispering, which was why you could barely hear him, you noticed how he sounded hurt, disappointment tinting his voice. “my love, you’ve been avoiding me for days know. i don’t know what i did wrong or how and why i hurt you. so could you please talk to me so that we can resolve this together?”, you asked gently, trying to stay diplomatic, even though anger was boiling within you due to his unfair treatment of you. “you truly don’t know what’s going on, do you?”, he snorted, but shortly after admitted, “to be fair i don’t even know what got into me myself.” “no, doofus! of course i don’t know what’s going. you didn’t say a word, just blatantly decided to avoid me.”

you finally dared to come closer, now standing directly behind neteyam’s back, putting on of your hands on his shoulder and slowly turning him around. “talk to me”, you encouraged him. neteyam sighed, putting his forehead against yours and taking your hands into his, stroking his thumbs along your knuckles. “it’s him. i know it’s irrational as he has always been here and he always will. nothing is ever going to change anything about that.” it took you a second before you understood who or what your boyfriend was talking about – ‘anoa. the look in your eyes became soft. “oh, yawne”, you whispered, putting one of your hands on his neck, playing with his hairline, and cupping his cheek with the other one, “i love you. so much. nothing is ever going to change about that,” you reassured with a hoarse voice. never in your wildest dreams would you leave neteyam, your fiercest protector and greatest confident. “i needed some more training, okay? and i knew you were busy. there is so little time we have to spend together and i value it too greatly to just waste it on some stupid bow and a stick, alright? that’s why i approached ‘anoa as i knew he would be understanding and gladly help me out.” you noticed how tears dared to escape your boyfriend’s eyes, a state he was seldomly seen in, while he was repeatedly nodding his head, "i guess i just felt useless." your heart broke into pieces as you listened to his words. “you will never be useless. not to this clan and especially not to me. your pain is my pain. so please cheer up, okay? i can’t stand seeing you in all this agony,” you said with the hint of a smile on your face, now tearing up yourself, while gently shaking him to try and cheer him up. neteyam sighed in reliefe, coming to realization that you weren’t going anywhere but sticking right to his side.

© thesecretsoftheuniverse 2023 | all rights reserved. do not repost, republish, steal, translate, modify or claim my work as your own.

[lunamadhatter99]

Let's try again

Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

Summary: worst day of your life? Not if Charlie can help it.

Warnings: none, I think. Period pain is a warning? Maybe. Especially if you got bad cramps like me (hi, let's suffer together)

Tag list (if you want to be tagged in future Charlie Weasley fics... let me know)

@once-upon-an-imagine

@papichulo120627

Worst day ever.

Worst. Day. Ever.

First, my period started this morning. It would've been okay if it weren't for the fact that I'm one of those lucky ones with the most painful cramps. I couldn't call in sick at work because my boss is an asshole, so I had to spend the whole day at work, only to be fired at the end of it.

I arrive at home late, it's almost 11 and Charlie isn't here yet. Thankfully, I don't want him to see me like this. We haven't been dating long enough for him to see me like this.

I take a deep breath, and I go take a shower, cleaning myself will definitely help, at least a little bit.

While I shower, I try not to think about losing my job today and having, basically, no option in the immediate future. God... what if Charlie breaks up with me, too? The day got worse and worse, so might as well...

I shake my head, showing that thought far, far away from me.

Once I'm clean and comfortably dressed, I decide to make something sweet. Cooking usually helps... let's see.

I go to the kitchen and just get to work.

I want to make some honey muffin, they're Charlie's favourite.

I start by melting the butter with the honey.

So far, so good, I made this recipe a million times, and it should go smoothly.

And...

I talked too soon. Fuck. How did I burn the butter? How!?

I go to grab the pan, but it's too hot.

"Fuck!" I basically scream.

"Darling? You okay?"

I turn around, my eyes land on Charlie putting down his bag.

"Shit.." I mutter "sorry.. I... it's nothing,"

"What happened?" He asks softly, walking closer to me.

"Nothing," I say, trying my best to hold back my tears, "I just... burned the butter..."

"Let me see," he gently holds my injured hand in his, "it's not that bad. Don't worry. I'll grab some lotion. Wait here, love"

He kisses my cheek and walk to our bedroom.

Shit... he probably think I'm weak now. Always complaining about nothing... okay no... stop with these thoughts. He won't think that... stop.. stop.

I can't hold back any longer and I just cry, I try to wipe away some tears by the time Charlie walks back in, but he's already here.

"Hey..." he puts the lotion on the counter and pulls me in for hug "my love, what's wrong? I'm no doctor so maybe your hand is worse than I thought? And I should be an expert on burns"

That makes me chuckle, first vague smile of the day... all thanks to Charlie.

"C'mon. Let's sit down" he walks me to the sofa and sits us down. "Wanna tell me what's wrong?"

"I... I got my period this morning" I start to explain.

"They didn't let you stay home, did they? Assholes..." he comments "I'm sorry, love"

"Then..." I say and I see him surprised "Then... they made me do extra work and they fired... they fired me."

"What?" He exclaims, "Love.. " he pulls me to him again and kisses my head as his hands caresses my back.

"I wanted to base something, but apparently I couldn't even do that right.." I mutter.

"Hey, none of that." He says cupping my cheeks to make me look at him "look at me, you have all the right to feel like this. Just don't let it put you down. You're wonderful. Alright? Absolutely wonderful. And this is just one bad day. One. I'll help you find a new job, once your period cramps are over, of course, I mean I'm not letting you do anything until your period is done, it's the only time I can spoil you and I will take advantage of that" he chuckles.

"Okay.." I softly say, "I just..."

"Ssh. I know. I know, it sucks. Trust me. Remember, it's just one day." He looks me deep in the eyes, "one"

"You're right... thank you"

"You're forgetting something," he grins.

"What?"

"You said it to me first" he winks and stand up, holding my healthy hand and leading me back to the kitchen where he puts some lotion on the injured one.

"There," he says kissing it.

"I burnt the butter..." I say looking at the pan.

"It's no problem," he throws away the burnt mixture. "Let's try again. What do we have to do first?"

"We've made these a million times..." I laugh.

"Yeah, but I have no memory, so... what do we do first?" He's smiling like and idiot and I can't help but laugh again. "Stop laughing at me, love." He fake-complains.

"We have to melt the butter and the honey," I explain to him.

"Thank you" I say to Charlie once we're cuddle up in the bed with our freshly made muffins.

"Love.."

"No, thank you. Really." I kiss his cheek.

He sweetly smiles at me, leaning down to kiss my lips.

"Anytime, my love."

I guess, it's not the cooking that makes me feel better... is the after, when I get to eat the sweets we made with Charlie.

"Tomorrow is a new day, we'll try again. Okay?" He says.

"Yeah... let's try again." I put my head on his shoulder, enjoying his presence.

[railingsofsorrow]

Hope you're having an awesome day/night

I was wondering if I could request a BAU Team x Male reader who is a serial killer but in prison

The team pull him out to help on a complicated case unfortunately knowing reader can help its just if he will.

Reader is smart and cunning, he wants his freedom back if given the chance any chance he'll take it. (He reminds people of a wolf not so much a human)

Maybe a lil enemies to lovers with Derek

If you can maybe could you add this prompt for reader

It was unending horror after unending horror and at this point the terror in my blood had run dry and given way to apathy and exhaustion.

Skeletons In The Closet

A/N: this was so fun to write. I've done lots of research on psychopathy and the sources will be at the end of the one shot but remember I'm not a professional in the field! I tried my best. I hope I granted you wishes, sorry for taking so long! 

summary: a copycat killer is out in the city and the BAU needs your help to uncover the case. you just have one condition: to see derek morgan.  pairing: slight derek morgan x male!reader  w.c: 5.3K warnings/content: probably wrong portrayal of police procedures; case-related violence; graphic description of dead bodies; different povs; reader has heavy mood swings and has a cruel interpretation of things; manipulation; descriptions of child abuse; a portrayal of psychopathy; derek is Frustrated (with reason); discussion about the paradox of being saved; there is no comfort, no matter how much you search, but there's humor; italics are flashbacks; this is not a romantic fic; (let me know if I've forgotten something).

navi 

masterpost 

requested by @xweirdo101x 

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❝ The mind is its own place,

and in itself

can make a heaven of hell,

a hell of heaven. ❞

[john milton - paradise lost]

“No.”  

It's the first thing Derek says when the room becomes silent. He's been a member of this team for years and they know each other's quirks and twitches like no outsider can. They can basically read each other's minds; in a very amateur way of saying things. Which is why he knows when Hotch's brows furrow in thought that your name will be the next thing leaving his boss's mouth.  

He wanted to avoid that from happening. “Absolutely not.” Derek shook his head in disbelief. “Hotch, you know this won't work.” 

“If he's willing to cooperate, it might.”  Blake quipped, not understanding Derek's sudden defensiveness. It wouldn't be the first time the team is dealing with serial killers to resolve a case.  

“That's the thing; he won't cooperate,” Derek stated, straightening his posture as tension weighed on his shoulders. “He will talk at first, give his insight pretending he wants nothing in return. Then, he will leave us hanging and confuse us until we give him what he wants. This is how he works.” 

“He's the only one who has the M.O. similar to Kyle Weathers,” JJ remarked, giving Derek a sympathetic look because she knew the topic made him touchy. It made everyone on the team extra cautious, in all honesty.  

Y/N Y/L/N was one of the hardest Unsubs they had to capture. The investigation lasted three weeks. There were a number of suspects until the team acquired a successful profile. It had been one of the victims, that had been attacked in the same spot as the bodies had been found, who almost sidetracked all of the clues they gathered up if Reid hadn't of caught on the lie.  

Y/N was cunning from the start. He inserted himself in the investigation, providing every bit of evidence he could muster. Such a helpful witness, really. This is what they had thought.

“I just want the bastard to be caught. That was the worst night of my life. I've never felt so scared, Agent Morgan.” 

“I get it, kid.” Derek let out a sigh, leaning back on the chair. He pitied the boy sitting in front of him in the investigation room. You had bruises all over his arms, a busted lip, a purple eye along with a small cut above his left brow. He believed he also saw him limping when he arrived at the station for the second time that week.  

Derek wanted to throw the asshole who did that in jail, as well as the rest of the team. But it had been a week and they had gotten nothing. The leads were scarce and the only two victims that survived the attacks couldn't be much help. Lyra Michaels, the first survivor, was in the hospital, breathing through mechanical ventilation. Y/N Y/L/N, the second one, fortunately, were in a better condition than Lyra and he was currently helping out as much as he could by repeating what happened the night he was attacked by the Unsub.  

You and Lyra had no connections whatsoever. You didn't frequent the same college nor did you have common friends, or shared the same GPS route on a daily basis.  

Spencer was having trouble narrowing down the areas for the geographic profile. This is why they needed you again to provide more information. 

“He hit me in the head with a bat. I passed out. When I woke up he was about to—to—” 

“Deep breaths, Y/N.”  

“He was wearing a red shirt.” Emily tilted her head beside Derek. They exchanged a look. His first statement claimed it was a yellow shirt. “And, and a black hat... I can see the scar on his jaw...” He jolted up, chest going up and down with heavy breaths. “I'm sorry, I couldn't— He was getting too close.” 

“Hey, kid.” Derek squeezed his arm in a comforting manner. “It's okay. You did more than enough. That was very helpful.” 

“Derek.” Emily watched you leave the room through the blinds. “He's lying.”  

Derek remained quiet, he knew she was right. 

The supposed memories you had of the night you was attacked were all lies. You weren't the second victim. You had never been attacked. When they figured that out, two more bodies were found and you vanished. A week later, you surrendered.  

You had lied. You had been lying to them ever since the first moment you were interrogated in the hospital room. As a victim.  

Y/N Y/L/N was a twenty-eight-year-old sadistic psychopath classified as a serial killer according to the number of victims he's made and the patterns in his M.O. He approached his victims and befriended them for a period of two weeks prior to the murder, keeping them for two nights and torturing them by cutting off their tongues and stabbing their left thigh — that last one was intrinsically connected to the scar he acquired on his left thigh as a kid, inflicted by his own mother the same way he did with his victims.  

Spencer Reid was sent to Sussex I State Prison at eight o'clock in the morning. A manila folder in one hand and his satchel in the other. As a security guard accompanied him on their way to the visitation room, he repeated his only goal today: get you to talk. Then, he would try to convince you to help. Which, honestly? It's a shot in the dark. He visualized this going two ways and none of them worked in his favor. He profiled you once and according to his studies, despite the good behavior in prison, you hadn't changed.  

Psychopathy is not a mental illness that can be treated with psychiatric medication and therapy. It is a personality disorder, there is no cure for it. 

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SUSSEX I STATE PRISON – 8:05 A.M. 

One thing you knew well was how to mask your true emotions. You're not sure if your mother taught you, but at some point in your messed up life, you learned it. Maybe from watching her. Maybe when you understood that swallowing up your cries was better than letting it all out because her punishments wouldn't be as harsh as they usually were. 

As you entered the room, your attention fell on a figure you hadn't see since you got locked up in here. Well, he was one of the people responsible for putting you in this place. This was not gift giving situation. You knew the reason and it made something in your chest leap. They needed you. 

Your gaze danced around Spencer before you sat down in front of him.  

“I know you.” You stated the obvious, leaning back on the chair.  

Spencer introduced himself even if it was pointless. He was trying to insert himself in your narrative, but he'd lost that game since the first match. 

“I'm Doctor Spencer Reid from the Behavior Analysis Unit.” Spencer straightened his posture, lips pressing together in a tight-lipped smile.  

You offered him a smug grin, slouching. The chains collided with the table and Spencer almost flinched at the bothersome noise.  

“I know you,” You repeated. “That wasn't a question, Doctor. I don't forget a pretty face.” 

Spencer cleared his throat, opening the manila folder to expose the crime scenes. Oh, straight to business. “I have a few photos to show you. May I?” He received silence in response and as he looked up. Your expression was blank, a faint line in your mouth. You studied him carefully. 

“A couple hundred PhD's and a few BA's, right?” Spencer blinked confused at your affirmation. “You're very smart or something, aren't you, Doctor?” 

You don't let Spencer answer. 

“You know, you gave me Hufflepuff vibes the first time I saw you. But now I definitely think you're a Ravenclaw.” You pointed at him, eyes narrowing as if you were searching for something specific. “Yeah, definitely a Ravenclaw.” 

“Aren't those two of the houses from that famous book franchise?” Spencer's brows furrowed in thought. Your brows arched in amusement. “Harry Potter, is it?” 

“Bingo.” You gave him a grin, clearly pleased. “Congratulations, Doc. You've earned one point for guessing a pop culture question right.” 

“Why do you think I'm in Ravenclaw?” Spencer had no idea what that even meant, did he? You bit your lower lip to avoid laughing. 

“Because you're a know-it-all.” You deadpanned as if it was obvious, head lolling to the side. You're getting bored. “You know what isn't very Ravenclaw of you?” You asked, giving him a sideways glance. 

Spencer raised an eyebrow, feigning interest. “What?” 

“Coming here and making me purposely leave my UNO match.” It was a mumble, an edge of annoyance. He was making you bored. Doctor Reid was boring, actually. He wasn't the one in the BAU that spiked your interest. “No, that was idiotic of your part, Doctor Reid.” 

Spencer placed two crime scene photos in front of him.“They were found yesterday. Killed two weeks ago. Buried in the same disposal site. Do you recognize this?” Okay, he was losing his patience as well. Good.  

“Dr. Reid,” You drawled, gazing falling in the photos for the first time that morning. Hm. That's... oddly familiar— No. No, you are not engaging. He does not deserve a second of your attention. Who did the FBI think they were? People only had power over you once in your life, in the past. Not anymore and never again. “I know about the recent murders and I know why you're here. I, however, am not speaking to you about them. You've successfully wasted your time.” You said short, calling up the guard. 

“They have your M.O., are you really going to let someone else take credit for your work?” He tried foolishly. All that academic knowledge and so so stupid. 

You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes. Lucky for him, you have watched CSI: Miami so you knew that M.O stands for Modus Operandi. Did you really need to spell it out what was it that you wanted for him? “Agent Morgan.” You turn back to look at him, a pointed gaze. “He's the only one I'll speak to. Goodbye.” 

You wondered if you had that much effect on Derek Morgan for another fed to be sent in here instead of him. 

Finally, back to your UNO game. 

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SUSSEX I STATE PRISON - 3 P.M 

The crisp breeze of November curled around the back of his neck along with the descending temperature of this time of the month.  

Derek was frozen in front of the Sussex State Prison's entrance. Quite literally, actually, if he didn't have his thick jacket on he would probably be frozen by now. The autumn weather prepared the city for winter, the cold air already taking over, the sky cloudy. Derek didn't enjoy winter that much, he wasn't fond of the cold. Penelope, on the other hand, loved the winter. She told him once that she would live inside a snow globe if she had the chance because then she would have an excuse to always dress up and decorate everything with Christmas lights.  

She wanted to come with him today. Derek said no. He had to do this by himself. He watched her hesitate to agree with him but there wasn't any other alternative. If they wanted to get a new lead, they had to play your game. By your rules.  

He hated every part of it, but that was the job, what could he do about it? 

“He's a sadistic psychopath,” Spencer told him before he got into the car. For some reason, he had followed him out to the parking lot. “He will try and devalue speaking about the case to enhance his grandiosity—” 

Derek furrowed his brows, “Reid. I read the files. I've interviewed him before.” I've been through this before, you think I can't do my job? He was honestly frustrated. The kid had been prowling him like a hawk the entire morning. 

Spencer sighed, resigned. “Y/N is cunning. He'll use the fact that you trusted him to his benefit. He'll use it against you. Just- just remember that, yeah?” 

Derek knew it from the start. The main reason for him to be resistant to bringing you to the case was that it would all come back. The victims. The chase. The failure. He failed to save those people. If he had caught on to the odd behavior from the first moment, people would still be alive; Lyra Michaels included.  

“Am I hallucinating or is that Derek Morgan in this very room?” 

Now, he had to look at the reminder and convince it to help his team. He signaled that it was okay for the officer to leave. You moved slowly from the door, analyzing him with mirth. That joy seeping from your eyes was what made him cautious.  

“He's also got an unhealthy obsession with you.” Spencer folded his arms as Derek shut the car door. “So be careful.” 

“Not my first rodeo, pretty boy.” Derek sent him a wink. But thanks for caring. “If you got any change in the geographic profile or something, call me.” 

“Will do.” 

“It's been what, four, five years?”  

If there's something you loathed, that was the silence. The feeling you have when someone is not paying attention to you.  

Derek used that to his advantage.  

“Four bodies were found in Widewater State Park.” Derek unceremoniously placed the images of the bodies in front of him. “It started with one week apart from the first and two bodies, but it escalated to three days. The dump site and the torture seem familiar to you?” 

You gave him a flat look but looked downward nevertheless.  

The first image displayed a caucasian man with his mouth ajar and dried blood around his lips. He had small cuts and bruises all over his body, but what really grasped your attention was the cut in his left thigh; a vertical slash, precise. He couldn't deny the keen resemblance.  

A cheap copy. 

“I don't know.” You settled for, fingertips grazing the photos with curiosity. Did the person admire what you did? Did they admire you?  

The scoff you heard made you look up. “So you're wasting my time.” Derek spat, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “Were those the five minutes of attention you wanted?”  

You spared him a look of bewilderment. You didn't know if he was playing a part or genuinely pissed off. Your bet was on a bit of both. 

“Agent Morgan, I have no idea what you're talking about.” 

Derek let out a hum as he started to gather the pictures. You straightened up in your seat. Fuck. “What are you doing?” You questioned, voice on edge in alarm. Derek merely shrugged and you grab one of the pictures haphazardly. He raises one of his brows in a silent question. “Did he drown them?” You choose to stare at the image instead of the satisfaction in Derek's face.  

“What do you think?”  

You breathed out in relief when he sat down again. This is more of a bodily response. You have attention, you have eyes on you and you have who you want giving you their precious time.  

It was part of your work, bringing them to the park, pulling their heads under water and holding it until you felt them stop fighting, stop breathing. The power you had over them at that moment was exhilarating. And a bit funny given that they never.stopped.fighting. Not until their bodies did it for them. 

Your eyes narrowed at the rope marks around their necks. That wasn't right. But the cut on the thigh was on the exact same spot you used to do. Staring at the blue lifeless eyes of the man caused annoyance to travel up your features. 

"He's not doing it right." You spat, sliding the image in his direction with disdain.  

"You think so?"  

"I never tied a rope around their neck, I used my bare hands. I did it all myself, I felt life leave their bodies knowing that I was responsible for it and I felt good." You marveled, slamming your hand against the table. Derek wasn't phased. "That was my work. My work was flawless. He's an amateur." 

"Okay." 

"Okay what?" You gritted.  

"I get it, kid. Your ego is bruised. I understand why. This guy is an amateur. That's why we're trying to find him." 

Your shoulders relaxed as you leaned back. The anger seemed to dissipate as it had come, suddenly. Your face became emotionless. That triggered a memory in Derek's brain. 

“Never understood why you kept on calling me kid..." You commented, head tilting to the side. "We're almost the same age, six years of different or so, right? You're not the only one who does that either. It's funny, isn't it? No matter how many people I've killed, If I look young, they'll see me as a boy.” The corners of your lips raised slightly.  

Derek placed another picture in front of you. This one wasn't from a crime scene. "Do you know this guy?" You took your time analyzing him. Not the picture, not the unknown man. Him.  

Derek Morgan had ghosts as well as you did. You concluded that as soon as he walked into the hospital room. Great physique, a strong voice and a kind persona. But his eyes carried that fog beneath the light and the will to help people.

He also wore a mask to display to society. You did the same up to your twenty years of age. After your mother died, it became easier to let go of things. To accept your true reality. You weren't like most people, you had a distinct way of thinking. They never understood you. That never bothered you that much. When it did, you got rid of them. Why should you deal with stupid problems if you could nip it in the bud? 

Your childhood hadn't been perfect. It was the worst part of your life, truth be told. Your mother being responsible for half the pain you endured while the other half remained with the bullies in your classroom. Yes, kids were cruel. But living with your birth giver was unending horror after unending horror and at some point, the terror in your blood had run dry and given way to apathy and exhaustion. You were simply sick of it. Of her. 

Back then, you used to wonder if something was wrong with you. But after having a taste of blood in your hands, you acknowledged that something was wrong with them. And you couldn't have that. You didn't want to.  

Thanks to your mother, you figured out the easiest way to deal with people. So you passed it on. Your legacy. You called it your own work of art.  

And now someone attempted to make a poor copy of your work. 

"That's Kyle." You say, looking away from the photo. "Kyle Weathers." 

"And you know him." That hadn't been a question so he already knew about Kyle and the relevance he had in your life. Well, you could confirm you had more relevance in his life than he ever had in yours. He was a bit obsessed with you for a while. You didn't stay in his life long enough to feed into that sick reality of his.  

“I knew him.” You corrected him. “We went to the same community college. And no, he wasn't my boyfriend or anything like that.” 

“Was he your accomplice?” 

Your lips draw into a flat line. “I just told you he was nothing. Less alone my partner in crime.” You said with humor. “He wouldn't pull it off.” 

“But you had some sort of connection?” 

Your brows knit together slowly as you add one plus one. “You don't want me to keep repeating myself, Derek. Does he have anything to do with this? That would explain this shit show.” You mention the photos with disgust and wait patiently for him to clarify his claims.  

“Why do you think that?” 

“You're becoming annoying like that Doctor.” 

Derek couldn't help the chuckle. Satisfaction spreads through your chest and you decided he deserved more than you were letting on. You were almost getting where you wanted, after all. 

“Kyle had some sort of a... fixation with me.”  

“How so?” 

“We were enrolled in the same classes. Visited the same bars and such. But until the third year of college, he started to act out.” You paused. “He was interested in being more than friends. I never saw him that way. He kept on bothering me for a few months, sending me gifts, even showing up to my mother's funeral.” You snickered. “Kyle was... something. A little sick in the head, if you ask me.” 

And you're not? — Derek thought to himself, analyzing the story. Kyle Weathers was their first option in the suspect list as of now. And according to your newest information, he also matched the profile. That would explain why both M.O.'s were so similar. Kyle was trying to relive the narrative of a relationship he created in his head. That still didn't explain the victimology or the entire reasoning for the murders.  

“I'll have to take a closer look to be sure,” you interrupted his train of thought. Derek noticed you were slightly closer, elbows leaning on the table as your eyes traveled through his face.  

He figured you'd ask something like that at some point. This is what he warned Hotch about. The cooperation only lasted until a particular stage, then you'd want more.  

“You'll have to take a closer look at the crime scenes?” Derek said, narrowing his eyes at him. “Is that what you're saying?” 

“It's been a few years, Agent Morgan. It's not easy to trigger those memories.” 

“You're only trying to relive the murders.” 

You shrugged, unaffected by that affirmation. Honestly? You just wanted to breathe some fresh air away from this prison. “Maybe. But who would be better than me to help you on this?” You raised an eyebrow. “Because that's what you need, isn't it? My help?” 

Say it. 

Derek's jaw clenched. He wanted to bang your head on the table, you could see by the conflict in his gaze.  

Say it.  

“What's it gonna be, Agent Morgan?” 

“If you so much as slip once,” Derek apprised. “I'll sent you right to death row. Is that clear?” 

You pressed your lips together, staring at him with a glint in your eyes. “Yes. Pretty clear.” You paused, tongue poking your cheek in smugness. “So, you need me, right. You need my help?” 

Derek shut the Manila folder after placing the photos in it. He stood up, stepping towards the door, but before he could call for the security guard, your voice rang through the room. A mellowed sound mixed with salient confidence.  

“If you don't admit it, I'll make sure the BAU never hears from me again and Kyle will be gone long before you think of him.” He froze at the door, inhaling sharply as to avoid snapping and screwing up his team's plan. 

Say it. 

“Yes, we need your help, Y/N.” 

There. You smirked. That's what you wanted. 

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WIDEWATER STATE PARK — 10 A.M. 

Dry leaves snapped under your feet as you walked further into the park. Last time you saw the sun, the trees carried a yellowish color; it was the start of the autumn season. Now, the air was chilly, it tickled the tip of your nose and caused you to sniffle pathetically. You had always been sensitive to the cold. 

You missed your freedom. Not being pushed around by pricks that thought they have power over you and schedules to follow or else you'll be thrown in solitary confinement. You missed the gashes in your feet every time you'd walk aimlessly through the woods. Barefoot. 

The truth was that you didn't actually need to be transported to the latest crime scene to recall valuable information on Kyle Weathers. The BAU knew that was an excuse as well, they had to. But they chose to work by your rules for a brief period of time, your guess was that they were running on short notice. 

"He liked to tie people up." You blurted out, eyes fixated on the marks around the man's neck. He used rope. "He used to boost his abilities in bed as if I gave a shit about it. And he mentioned about tying people up. How he enjoyed feeling in control." 

"BDSM involves power exchange, as in someone is dominant and the other person is submissive. Kink and fetishes play a big role in this world as well, although they are two different things. Handcuffing, for example, falls under the kink classification, which means that some people may be aroused when they get tied up."  

Your attention was anchored on the youngest in the team for a hot minute. "You may just not be as annoying as I thought you were, Doctor Reid." His forehead wrinkled as if he was trying to figure out whether that was a good thing or not.  

"It doesn't make sense how he knew so much about your process of doing things, does it?" You recognized Agent Prentiss when they last conducted a cognitive interview with you. "It's almost the same M.O." 

"Except that it isn't." You said with an eye roll. You were getting annoyed of this non-sense comparison. Kyle didn't have your thought-out scheme. Kyle wasn't you. That was why he failed. That was why he would get caught and it would be your pleasure to be of help with that. "I never used ropes in the neck, just in the feet and hands to make my life easier. You know, sometimes they would never stop moving. For some reason, they didn't accept their fate until I brought them here." You looked around, forcing the setting into your brain to poke back the last memories you had here. That last screams. The last begging for help.  

"Where is he, Y/N." You had seen him before, but you didn't remember his name, just the stern frown he had permanently etched on his face. He, too, was losing his patience with you. You chuckled, shaking your head. 

"Is something funny?" The blonde one spoke with you for the first time since they had arrived at the park. You barely spared her a look before you glanced up at Derek. He had been watching your every step as if you would disappear from thin air and they would have to chase you down. Again. Oh, those were fun times. You wondered where they would put you this time if you did that again. 

"He's bad at this." You said. "It's like he's asking to be caught."  

"He was interested in you, that's what you said, right?" Another brunette referred to you. She reminded you of your mother, except for the kind eyes. Your mother didn't have those. She didn't have kind in anything. "Is there a place you would visit together? A secret spot? Just for the two of you." You studied the woman for a while, quietly. She was the only one who remained calm until now. The color of her hair and the shape of her face made you feel... confused. As much as she looked like your mother, their stances were distinct. The woman in front of you didn't stand with her nose up as if she was above everyone else, no. She looked at you as if she were interested in what you had to say. As if she cared. 

You looked down at the body, choosing to focus on the lacerations on the dead man's legs. "His first murder was by my side." A needle could drop on the grass and it would echo through the silence that formed. "That night, I taught him everything he needed to know to do... this." You glanced down at the body. There was no reasonable motive for you to be confessing deliberately to them like this, but you did it, anyway. You told them about Kyle's first body, which was not included in his current body count. You told them about how he knew who you were and what you did and still became obsessed with an idea of you he constructed in his head. A fantasy.

In short, you gave the FBI the intent, the ability and the opportunity so they could finally find Kyle Weathers.

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SUSSEX I STATE PRISON - 5 P.M 

You didn't lie. There wasn't an appeal to do it. Boredom curled up on your shoulders and not even the bloodied images or the fact that you were out of that cubicle you had to live in for the rest of your life made you the least excited.  

“You're still trying to help me.” You muttered to Derek as you arrived back in Sussex. There were some pigeons fighting for a dead squirrel near the entrance.  

Derek danced in his own silence as you were guided back to your cell.  

Maybe that's why Derek Morgan intrigued you. Despite the anger and disappointment, he looked at you as a person. Deep down, he saw you as someone he could have saved from the torment of human life. Except that you became your own torment and you ate it as a snack on a daily basis. It was bitter, but when did you ever enjoy sweet things?  

You couldn't be saved.  

“There's no fixing me, Agent Morgan.” You told him as you stopped in the corridor that lead to your home sweet home. “I don't have anything broken. This is who I am. If I came to terms with it, you can too.”  

He didn't say anything. You didn't wait for an answer. But you felt his eyes following you as you were escorted away.  

Somehow, his silence said everything. He knew that he, too, couldn't be saved. Could anyone ever escape their own sorrows? Our ghosts were always there, in the corner, whispering and conspiring against the darkness, tampering with our minds. We ended up limping, as if a leg was missing because we couldn't interpret what the world told us and what the voices — the ghosts' voices — claimed as truth.  

Your mother might have been right; an apple doesn't fall far from the tree, after all. 

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sources: [1] [2] [3] [4]

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A/N: life has been hectic lately and I'm struggling with my mental health as usual. so this is going to be my last request for a while. I have to focus on other things but I'll still be around, just gotta take a break from requests <3

[littledollll]

Hi honey! It's your fave anon ever hehe

Can I request cg!larissa x little!borderline!reader?

Maybe R has had an awful day, like every insecurity rising to the surface and she's on the verge of splitting but she really doesn't want to so when Larissa comes home, she sees that R has locked herself in the bathroom accidentally scaring Larissa but actually she was just isolating herself because she was terrifked Larissa would see her as a monster, but actually Larissa knowa of it all and loves R more than anything so she weasles her way into the bathroom with a blanket and a paci and lots of little stuff and R just ends up regressing and safely avoiding splitting as Larissa takes care of her and falls asleep on her chest and gets carried to bed? I'm sorry if this is too much

-🧸 anon

Forever? Forever.

Larissa Weems x little!bpd!reader

Extra prompt- “R is anxious when Isa is busy and fully develops into an attack but they try to mask until they just leave the room knowing they can't do it much more. Isa, can't follow yet and feels so bad because she knows her little has abandonment issues so will interpret it the situation as being left. Then we get upset little drawing pictures to show feelings and comforting momma isa” -🕊️anon

A/n: Hi its 1:30 am when I’m writing this! back at it again my friends. It’s nice to be (sorta) up to date with requests again! Also 🧸anon i see u 👀 I swear ur like 3/5 requests I have, it’s truly an honor.

Warnings: mentions of splitting, anxiety, overthinking, abandonment issues, little r, momma Larissa, comfort.

Dear 🧸anon, can I bring you back to life with the gift of a fluffy Larissa fic?

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

A busy Larissa wasn’t something new, usually as much as you hated it, it didn’t cause much of a problem. You found ways to be with her even as she worked her life away and you’ve grown quite used to it. The problem was today. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what exactly triggered your anxiety, you just felt alone, abandoned even though in the back of your mind you were well aware of Larissa’s affections for you.

Anxiety was always quick to push you into splitting, you couldn’t have that. Not now that you’ve been doing better, not while Larissa is cluelessly busy working. She was supposed to be home soon as well. What was taking so long? Did she not want to come home to you? Overthinking was always your worst enemy, specially now.

Naturally, you hid. Having Larissa see you in this state wasn’t going to be of any help, specially if you acted out against her. At the same time you missed her so badly. You just wanted her to hold you and tell you how much she still loved you. But you hid. If she wanted you she’d come looking for you right? That was your logic anyways.

You locked yourself in the bathroom of your shared room, bringing your knees up to your chest and hiding your face between them. You didn’t really have much else to do, just wait it out, just wait for the anxiety and that feeling of a split coming on to fade away, it wouldn’t. You closed your eyes. You felt like crying, and what was the point in holding back now?

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You hadn’t noticed you fell asleep until the sound of Larissa calling for you startled you awake, then your heard it again followed by the shaking of the doorknob. “Darling- are you in here? could you just answer me so I know you’re okay?” You could hear the concern in her voice and willed yourself to unlock the door, still giving her no reply.

She let herself in, seeing your tear stricken face she immediately kneeled down and cupped your face. “My sweet girl, why are you crying what’s wrong?” You couldn’t bring yourself to explain, not mentally or physically and Larissa immediately knew. She kissed your forehead and stood, walking out to the bedroom.

This left you confused. Was she leaving you? If she was why would she kiss you so gently before doing so? It just made you want to cry more, you curled into yourself and did just that.

Larissa was at your side in mere seconds. Pulling you into her lap and offering up your paci and one of your stuffies. “Momma just needed to get some things for her baby, you see?” you nodded, hiding into her neck. “no leavs” Larissa sighed, hugging you tightly. “No my darling. Mommas not going anywhere, I promise. I apologize for leaving so suddenly without explaining.”

You sat there as she rubbed your back for god knows how long. She didn’t pull away until all your cries were soothed, your stuffie hugged between your bodies and paci in your mouth. Her always calm voice felt so comforting as she shushed your cries and eased every single one of your worries with quiet reassurance. She held your face studying you and then squinted at you, managing to pull a quiet giggle from you.

“My pretty little one, you know there’s nothing in this world momma loves more than her baby right?” You gave her a little gasp and shyly snuggled into her chest “It’s true. You’re my little treasure and momma absolutely adores you!” you hugged her as tightly as you could and responded as if it was a secret, “I adores momma evn mores”

“There’s absolutely no way! You’re my precious girl, I have all the love in the world just for you.” It was exactly what you needed. Being held and reassured by her for however long you asked.

You comfortably curled up in her arms, wanting to sleep off your headache from all the crying and Larissa was quick to carefully carry you into bed. She laid with you on her chest, the sound of her heartbeat calming you further. Just as you closed your eyes Larissa spoke again in a soft tone.

“Rest well my sweet girl, momma loves you” you nuzzled further into her, “forevers?” “Forever.” It was the perfect goodnight.

[chvoswxtch]

Hiii

ik your requests are closed but if you have time n feel up to it, could you write a fic, blurb or even just head canons about how Frank would celebrate you and your birthday? Hes seems like the “anything you want is yours” kinda guy, even if it’s getting coffee then spending the day at home he would still make it special. Its my birthday haha and i dont want a big celebration just a low key day doing little things i love with the ppl i love. Omg this is sappy hahah but yeah if you have the time, thank you!! And I totally understand if you dont ❤️❤️

-Max 💥

OMG ANGEL

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAX !!! ❤️

my fic requests are currently closed, but i'd be more than happy to whip you up a little birthday treat! i'm gonna go with a headcannon if that's okay bc I have a lot of thoughts about frankie & birthdays I don't think I can properly translate into a blurb right now so please find my rambling below the cut :)

frank castle & your birthday

frankie strikes me as someone that is a hopeless romantic at heart, and I feel like his love language is physical touch but also acts of service. I think we've seen that he pays a huge attention to detail, so he might not go like all out for your birthday, especially if he knows you prefer something small and intimate, but he would definitely make sure it felt special

he would probably start by taking you to your favorite coffee shop, getting you a little birthday breakfast treat with your coffee, and it would probably be the one time he doesn't criticize your drink order (he definitely thinks plain black coffee is real coffee) or comment on how much espresso you added to it (i'm on that pedro pascal shit myself, & I know the only time frankie wouldn't give me shit about it is my birthday bc he's legally required to be extra nice that day)

"you're gonna be hoppin' around like the goddamn energizer bunny with all that. it's your day though. get what you want, sweetheart."

he would insist that you sit down at one of the cute little tables so you can enjoy your coffee and little breakfast together, while you try to get hints from him about what he has planned (he'd resist as long as he could but it's really hard for him to say no to you)

I could see him taking you to do something that you had been begging him to do for awhile. something he kept putting off, or there wasn't time, or he acted like he didn't wanna go, but really he was just saving it for your special day. maybe a trip to an art museum, the aquarium, some botanical gardens, or the zoo even

or maybe a romantic stroll through central park. he'd bring a blanket and your favorite book, let you cuddle up in his lap as he read to you, play with your hair and point out all the cute dogs you saw to each other

even though he'd already gotten your birthday gifts weeks ago, he'd take you to your favorite store and let you pick out anything you wanted

"what? i'm not allowed to spoil my girl on her birthday? if that's a crime, it sure ain't the worst one i've ever committed."

as far as the evening, I see it going two ways: frankie either makes a reservation at your favorite restaurant and invites your closest friends and family to keep it intimate, or he surprises you with a special dinner he cooked himself (your favorite meal) along with a homemade birthday cake (it might not be the prettiest, but it would be delicious) because we know frankie can throw down in the kitchen

if you went out for dinner, he would insist on giving you your gifts & card at home because they're special and sentimental and he's shy when it comes to things like that, and he likes it better when those moments just consist of the two of you

if you had dinner at home, he would roll his eyes when you begged him to sing you happy birthday, but he would oblige because he can't tell you no

"alright, fine. but you're patchin' up your own ears when they start bleedin'. you know I can't sing for shit."

he would ask you several times throughout the day if you were having a good birthday, because he wants to make sure that you are because he thinks you deserve nothing less than as close to perfection as he can provide

he'd also continuously tell you how pretty he thought you were and how much he loved you and how lucky he felt to get to spend your special day with you

I could see him putting your favorite song on and asking you to slow dance with him in the living room to it, drawing out every single minute of your birthday all the way up to 11:59 and making sure you spent every second of it feeling loved and special

"today's one of my favorite days. know why? cause it was the day you were brought into this world, and I think that deserves a goddamn celebration. happy birthday, sweetheart. I love you."

[blooming-violets]

Hi! This isn't a request but how do you think Peter would react to reader being a Funeral Director? Let's say it's like a blind date (set up by Auntie May ofc). Im asking because a good amount of your fics that you write with Peter revolve around death- weather it being Ben's, Gwen's, and/or what he see's around just being Spider-Man.

Lol this is coming from someone who's about to get their license to become a f.d if you couldn't tell :)

omg over a decade ago i used to roleplay with an oc who was my dark humored, lil goth queen and she was studying to become a funeral director and even though it was so long ago, once an oc, always an oc. she still lives up in my brain with the rest of every other character i've ever created in my life time. i'm going to channel her energy into my soul for this one

Ok, so! I love this.

(using gender neutral "they/them" for this character)

This might sound slightly gruesome but I'm going with it! May is getting a little older in age. Nothing crazy but she's a realist and she wants to be extra prepared when it's her time to go because she doesn't want to burden Peter with such things. She knows what it's like to go through the entire process of burying a dead loved one when you are in the middle of the worst grief of your life. She doesn't want Peter to have to make any of those choices like where to go and what casket to chose. She's a planner and is going to keep nurturing her boy even after death.

Soo she starts doing the rounds of looking into funeral homes, types of caskets, potential flower arrangements, details for the service, how she wants her body to be prepared...she's got it all figured out and in a binder with laminated pages. And she's having the time of her life doing all this because any chance to pull out some stationary is a good day in her book.

Peter freaks when he finds out because that's his girl and he refuses to let her die ever. But she calms him down by reminding him that death can happen to anyone, at any time, and she wants to be prepared for him. All he will have to do is hand over this binder to the director and they can do the heavy lifting so he can just take time to grieve. He's still not happy about it. Aunt May will never die. He doesn't even want to entertain the idea that it's a possibility even twenty years from now.

But then she throws in a lil twist.

"Oh, by the way, Peter...you have a date next Saturday night. I set you up with the director of the parlor. They were just lovely! So accommodating, so funny, absolutely gorgeous, not anything like I was expecting. I told them I had a nephew who was single. Showed them a picture of you. You know that picture I took last summer of you at the beach eating a Ninja Turtle popsicle next to the ice cream truck? I just love that picture...reminds me of when you were a boy...anyway, they agreed to meet up with you! Isn't that wonderful?"

And he's standing there speechless and mortified because only Aunt May would start prematurely planning for her death and then go around showing embarrassing, shirtless pics of him to his potential suitors...who are also helping her plan for her death. He tries to refuse to go but it's May and you can't say no to her. She will always win.

She picks out his best outfit for him and makes sure he's all dolled up (also to be sure he actually goes through with the date and doesn't bail).

He's shocked at how young and attractive they are when he meets them. Even though May insisted they would be a good match, he still was picturing some creepy old, sickly pale, skeletal man wear a dark suit. He's been dating a bit lately but nothing really sticks. This date feels different. He starts off by making a dark joke about dating the person who's going to bury his (still very much alive) aunt. Which gets a laugh from the both of them. They start in on how lovely it was to meet her and how she brightened up the house when she came for a meeting. And Peter talks about how baffled he was to find out she was even doing all that in the first place. He would have gone with her or been more than willing take care of everything. But they insist that May was adamant on doing it on her own. Peter asks a lot of questions on why they would ever want to go into this line of work but they just laugh it off. They're helping people, even after death. Helping their loved ones have the best final goodbye they can have.

The first date flows smoothly. They both try to avoid the death talk after the first few minutes and keep things light and happy. Peter is unknowingly smitten at the time but finds that once he goes home for the night, he can't stop thinking about them.

A second date is soon to follow. And a third. And fourth. And so on until they are officially dating.

I think as they get more comfortable with each other and open up to each other more, Peter will start to reveal how badly of a relationship he has with death. Reader has a healthy outlook on it. They don't mind taking care of the dead. They enjoy being able to provide that kind of service. Nothing really turns their stomach at this point. Peter can't remember much about his parents or their funerals, Uncle Ben's was a blur, and Gwen's is blackened out from his memory. It really upsets him to picture Reader doing any kind of body preparation. He keeps having intrusive thoughts about them working on Gwen's corpse and it kinda fucks him up. (They obviously weren't the one's who did that but his mind is putting the two people he cares about together without reason). Sometimes it makes it hard for him to look at them. It causes tension in the relationship. He starts to resent that they do that job. He think that they are "better than that" and they should leave that sort of job to someone else. He thinks it's gross and upsetting.

Reader would take massive offense to that. They love what they do. It's very important to them. Peter keeps not being able to hear what they're saying and is throwing his own uncomfortable attitude into the mix. They represent death to him and he hates death. Almost like they're a constant reminder of everyone he loved who has died. Cue the climaxy fight part where they separate for a bit in order for the growth to happen. Peter goes off to sulk and eventually ends up on May's doorsteps like a lost, sad puppy.

He'd need to go have a heart to heart talk with her about why he feels so uncomfortable dating someone who is so close to death. She'd talk about his past traumas, losing so many loved ones, and how he never allowed himself to put those people to rest. That's what Reader does. They helps other's put their loved one's to rest. And that frightens Peter because he's afraid of letting go. They represent someone who is at peace with themselves and Peter is living in a constant state of turmoil. In order to love properly again, he has to let go of the past. Reader can become a healthy path forward but only if Peter is able to cut off the baggage that is holding him back.

He'd let that talk sink in for a few days until he finally crawls his way back to their home with a box of their favorite chocolates (not flowers because they've seen enough flowers to last them their entire life time). He's met with nothing but a gentle smile and open arms. He'd open up to better explain himself to them so they can understand where he's coming from and see into his past. It's a healing moment for him to overcome.

Over time he'd warm up more and more to the idea of them working so closely to death. They both like to lighten any dark moods with some terrible jokes and dumb comments. A lot of silly ghost/ haunting talks. A lot him questing them about things. Like if guys can get an erection after death. Or what exactly is embalming fluid (bc he likes science-y things). And trying to find out the craziest things they ever experienced while working. They have endless stories to share so there's never a dull moment.

And when they finally find out about Mr. Parker and his big, giant Spider-Man secret, they threaten Peter that he better never end up on their table or else they'll mutilate his corpse by cutting off his dick and keeping it in a jar. (too dark? lmao not for them!)

Peter loves it. It makes him feel loved.

[bloogers-boogers]

Kyle Broflovski/Eric Cartman

"Cartman, your girlfriend's a freak!"

Part 1 >

Summary:

Kyle discovers Cartman's new partner is into feedism and he has all reason to get involved.

Eventually:

"why can't you listen?! Why don't you care?! Why is it always me who has to fix your problems!"

"No one is asking you to fix me, Kahl!"

"You are! You are by acting dismissive over it when you DO care!"

"I don't! She's all I have! She's the best thing I could ever get."

"What about me?!!"

Warning ⚠️: this is a sp fic you could either expect the worse or the best! So beware if you proceed to read the following content 🙏

Author’s note: the narration of the story would be mimicking the way Cartman was storytelling in that one Christmas creatures story he wrote. So if you guys wonder why it’s kinda wacky that’s why! C:

------———————

It was a Monday morning, the sun rising and the light blooming each corner of the trees, streets and buildings. As four boys walked pass the streets heading straight to school. It would've been a normal day if they had met in the bus stop as usual however Randy took Stan that same night for a weed business trip in middle of a sleepover so they also had tagged along. Free employees! for Randy so he said.

What a annoying night for the teens, but not much to complain besides groan and act bitter to their raven friend instead. Regretting not just taking their usual hangout spot which was always at Cartman's place.

"Main bitch out your league too, ah

Side bitch out of your league too, ah~" the brunette sang out shamelessly, a slight smile while moving his hands with the mumbling beat of his own voice.

"Can you stop singing, fatass? I have a fucking headache from last night." Complained the only redhead of the group.

Ever wonder why they all have conveniently diffrent hair colors to difference each other and yet, matched color palettes for clothing that go well with one another? Nah, who thinks about that. They look good together, so the group remains the same! Just switch the coats for hoodies and the pants for jeans. If you want extra, the raven boy has updated for no hat and the ginger for a pair of sneakers instead of boots.

Heights from the tallest to smallest, redhead to raven, blonde and lastly brunette. For the misfortune of the last one ofcourse.

Constant teasing and for what? For a couple of inches extra? Nope. Because he's an ass. That's the reason, and because it's funny.

"For your information I don't care," replied, Cartman as he continued to sway his body from side to side.

Aka shortest, drastically fattest, "you think life is hard? I'm wearing size 13 Nikes", only motherfucker that could kill and would; just for funsies. A loser. But a dangerous one, THE Eric Theodore Cartman a fatherless boy with a crack whore of a mom, "I'm tying to put you in the worst mood, ah-!" he hummed out loud, even louder then before to annoy his friends.

With a long and dragged groan, "way to go, Kyle. You made it worse," Stan complained as he pinched his nose in frustration.

Aka the second tallest, Mr. "I'm part of the football team but never the captain", average weight, depressed homie who would get bailed on the moment he stops acting chill about it. Deadbeat singer. A lover boy and hippie. Stoner without the weed. The "leader" of his gang of friends, Stan (Stanley) Marsh.

"What did I do?!" Kyle exclaimed offended but not really. Too tired to care or actually make a big deal about it.

Aka tallest, average weight with a little tone of muscle in his arms, jewish (apparently important enough to mention for the fat one), "temper bitch with no chicks", looks like a nerd is actually a high graded student but would bail school for his friends. Would beat your ass if you cross his ground or brake his ego. Seriously. He would. Ask Cartman. Wait, don't, he'll lie about it. Anyways, this is Kyle Broflovski.

"Mhmp! Mhmp mhmp," muffled Kenny under his hoodie.

Aka third tallest atleast he's not the shortest!, slightly underweight, "what's that miles away? A arrow? Lighting? Bullet? Nope, it's Michael Myers about to hunt him down", hard worker but slacks from time to time, a stoner with very high grades but no effort. Wise for his age but cries at nights. Fatalities over 100! Kenny (Kenneth) McCormick.

"Nuh-Uh!," Cartman denied with a skeptical frown, "that's not possible poor boy," a slight pause before leaning his head closer to his other friends, "...right?"

Stan and Kyle just shrugged not caring much.

Cartman remained silent as a car swoop there blonde friend off the ground and dragged him to the nearest gasoline station where it comically explodes as he landed just inches apart from the actual gas.

Well there goes Kenny for the day.

They continued their pace as they finally arrived school. Doing their usual thing as changing their books and closing their lockers before entering class.

First period went smoothly while second period in comparison had multiple shootings heard from the hallways, the teens remained unfazed while they were lectured about historical facts they genuinely didn't care about, some listened, some acted like they did and others just slept through class.

Ofcourse Cartman was one of those who slept in. He felt a couple of pokes on his side. He frowned annoyed while swaying his hand in the air for whoever is pestering him to stop. He didn't bother to look up.

"Fatass stop slacking in class," Kyle hissed in a whisper.

Cartman smiled devilish as he recognized that well familiar voice.

"Meh meh meh meh," he mocked still eyes shut and had no plans on moving from his comfortable position.

As expected, Kyle punched him hard on the arm.

"OWE!" Cartman whined out loud, rubbing his arm that was now aching in pain.

"Mr. Cartman care to explain why you interrupted my class?," The teacher scold. Now attention all on him.

"It was Kahl!" Cartman cried out loud while glaring at his redheaded friend.

"I would never," Kyle commented sarcastically as he rolled his eyes looking at the ceiling innocently.

They all knew who the teacher favored.

Something they all first noticed in their first year of highschool. Was how their history teacher put her immediate attention on Broflovski. At first, Kyle denied it but then he got curious and intentionally wrote wrong all his answers and yet STILL A's a exam. He was shocked but actually felt proud that he can pull a whole grown woman to pine for him with out even trying. Creepy, but cool because he can get away with a lot of shit in her class.

"Eric, I beg you to keep quiet while I lecture, do you understand?"

Cartman roll his eyes knowing Kyle's so call "charm" on their teacher. So there was no point on manipulating the situation to his favor.

"Yes, Ms. Thrust ontitts," he replied bashing his eyelashes innocently.

"Very well, let's continue."

He grips his hand on to the side of his chair, and jumps closer to Kyle's side as he moves, "way to use your jew scooties on crib jumper."

Kyle rolled his eyes, still, he leans his head closer to Cartman's, "better than not having anyone pay attention to you, lardass."

Cartman scoffed but arched a brow as he tried thinking of a better combat. He smiled before saying the first thing that came in mind, "rather have no one than someone that's nearly applying for a elderly home."

"Atleast she's pension."

"Atleast I won't be wiping ass."

"Atleast I'm touching ass."

"Atleast changing diapers won't be a routine."

Kyle gripped his fingers on to his desk, biting his lip trying to come up with something else but failed.

"Fuck you."

"Just try," Cartman teased as he stuck his tongue out childishly. Moving back to his place triumphantly.

Kyle cheeks heated by just his stupidity, then because the image actually popped up inside his head.

"Agh. Gross," Kyle let out as he shaked his head trying to get the image out of his brain.

Embarrassingly turned on by it too.

Cartman snickered, side eyeing his friend. Pleased by the reaction. Oblivious of the other's repressed thoughts.

During lunch period Kyle remained defeated as he slumped his head on to the table. Frustrated that he couldn't get the image of Cartman on fours out of his head.

Yeah, that's his life now. So desperate to find love, so touched starve for physical attention that he is now delusional enough to imagine his rival remotely attractive while positioned under him.

What else could go wrong for him?

He dragged his hands on to his face sliding them down to the sides of his chin still not believing how betrayed he feels by his own perturbed mind.

The thing is, he managed to effortlessly pull a grown ass woman he has zero attention on, to like him. But any girl his age doesn't even bat a eye when crossing paths. It's like a damn curse he can't get rid of.

He's tried but no luck. He always thought his looks were average. He has a great personality. What else do they want?

He scratched his scalp while processing whatever shit load his brain is dumping on him as Stan just eyes him while eating a burger.

You'd think his only concerns would be the fact that he's literally picturing indecent shit about Cartman. But no, that's far from it. To be honest this is mild compare to what he has to endure with his sexually frustrated brain.

Hormones has been his worst enemy these past years. And yet, unlike his other friends he hasn't score anything.

He's not sure if it's the thought that all his friends has done it, and when he means by "it" he means the big S word. Sex.

Well, if you include Cartman he's technically not alone but c'mon that's basically expected from that fat bastard.

So he's technically screwed if he's on his level on not being good enough to be fucked.

He scratched his head in desperation as he sighed.

Stan patted his back in understanding. He has already told Stan a year prior about feeling insecure with it. However, the other only told him the most basic, corny ass shit he could think of "only time will define and just don't feel pressure about it. It's not a big deal", then backtrack it all after scoring with Wendy a week after.

"Dude you're missing out big time, you HAVE to try it," those words echoed his head, and been echoing his head since their middle grade years.

He scratched again angrily before finally deciding to eat his almost forgotten food.

He eyes Cartman basically undressing him. Spiteful. In his defense he started it for just even suggesting that possibility. So he deserves to be ridiculed in this way. Technically this is harmless because it's a internal thought but it feels vengeful in a way. A way he can tolerate and accept he is fact being turned on by his rival.

Another thing he's been questioning in a battle.

His sexuality.

He's not sure if he's into women or men. There's only been a few exceptions when it comes to feeling remotely attracted to both those genders and he doesn't know why.

They're always specific and never spontaneous. He can't simply fall attracted to someone he just met or eyes as pretty. He REALLY has to know what he's dealing with first, and then attraction hits.

But nooooooo Mr. Broflovski here is also picky.

His perfect suit is smart, courageous feisty women. That's basically his personal pick. But at this point he'd go for anything.

Not Cartman though. He doesn't know why his brain in bugging right now.

But Cartman does seem to go for...

He stands up abruptly, startling his friends as he picks up his tray and went to place it in its bin before heading out of the cafeteria. Stan already following behind.

That's enough with thinking.

"Kyle, you okay dude?" Stan asked concerned, hands inside his pockets walking alongside him.

"Yeah, it's been just one of those weird days y'know?" He tried dismissing his thoughts away, focusing on his best friend.

"Yeah, I get that.. like-"

"Oh brother not this shit again," Kyle thought, fighting the urge to not roll his eyes. Isolating himself from the conversation while Stan finishes ranting about his break up with Wendy which was like three months ago and how he misses her.

He eyes the posters plastered on the walls as they walked pass them. Holes everywhere as the previous shooting had already ended but had left drastic but not too drastic damage.

He sighed, crossing his arms as he had stopped waiting for Stan to drink some water from the water fountain before continuously walking the hallways aimlessly as he ranted wanting to get back with her.

His concerns were not suppose to be a big deal, but he made them a big deal. And for what?

Unnecessary stress? They're other more important things to think about and here he was just worrying about being a virgin after graduating.

He never felt so unwanted. Pathetic, definitely pathetic and disappointed.

Maybe if his friends didn't rushed themselves to pass that huge step. Maybe he wouldn't be so worried about it. Maybe if they didn't push him into doing it he wouldn't think about it so much.

Maybe he wouldn't care so much if they all just didn't grow up so soon.

The day already has ceased to it's end, as Kyle dramatically lays on his bed in a position people would normally find funny. His head rested on his pillow while his left arm was folded to his side next to his head, fist against his forehead. His legs spread apart while his other arm was extended to the edge of the bed. His belly exposed as his shirt was slightly lifted to the side of his abdomen.

But Kyle was devastated, exhausted and annoyed mostly.

He huffed before falling asleep.

[angelbaby-fics]

Can you do a fic where steve or Bucky accidentally drops the reader?

#stucky 🌻🦋☀️

Word Count: 435

Pairing: Bucky x Little!Reader

A/N: Oh man, I'm sorry its been so long! And that this isn't very much!! But I'm hoping to get back into the groove I was in earlier this year with my fics, and the first step is getting started!

Of course, neither Steve nor Bucky would EVER intentionally drop you, and are probably even more protective than the average person.

The only way I can imagine it happening honestly is if something happened with Bucky’s arm that he couldn’t control, because keeping you safe is as natural to him as breathing.

It wasn’t even a malfunction, quite the opposite actually.

Bucky had just gotten his arm refurbished in Wakanda, getting it equipped with new skills and updates, in addition to general upkeep.

As an added bonus, Shuri had polished the arm to give it a little extra flair!

What she’d neglected to do was tell Bucky about the polish, and so the first thing he did when his arm was reconnected was scoop you right up into a big hug. 

He spun you around, both arms around you as he pressed you into his chest, but as shifted you into his left arm to fill out some paperwork with his right, you felt yourself lose your traction. 

Next thing you knew, your bottom hit the floor!

You looked up at Bucky with wide eyes, him staring back at you just the same. 

You paused for a moment before bursting into tears, and Bucky rushed to you in an instant, trying to pick you up again, but you fled from his grasp.

“No daddy!! You drop me!!” You cried, shrinking away from him.

Bucky’s heart was broken; it was his absolute worst nightmare to be in any way responsible for hurting you and making you feel scared.

Even though he knew it had been an accident, he still blamed himself for not being more careful.

“Angel, I’m so sorry. Daddy didn’t mean to!” He pleaded with you.

You could see the pain in his eyes, the fear come true of hurting you especially with his enhanced limb.

You knew he was insecure about it already, and you didn’t want to make him feel worse.

Even though you were still shaken from your fall, you knew in your heart that Bucky would never dream of hurting you on purpose, so you slowly got up and walked back towards him.

“It's ok daddy, accidents happen.” You said, offering a smile.

“You wanna try again, sugar?” He asked, holding his arms out to you, but you shook your head, not quite ready to risk it again.

“I wanna walk and hold your fancy hand!” You said, grabbing his vibranium fingers with glee and tugging slightly, indicating that you were getting impatient, wanting to get all this adult stuff over with so you and your daddy could go play.

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