#but who else also gets to be in the front sit?

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hi, there! I've seen you're asking for some Thunderbolts requests, so: what about the reader and Bob having to share a bed during a mission, having both big crushes for each other? No pressure at all, only if you like the idea ☺️ thank you!!

a/n: Ah yes the one bed troupe, one i love reading but never got around to writing. Okay so i didn't know if you wanted it to be a smut but i ended making it one 😬 hope that's okay. Also thanks for the request and enjoy!

Bob Reynolds X Reader: No room for secrets.

Warnings: smut, one bed troupe, mutual pinning, forced proximity, wet dream, injuries (not graphic), kissing, Bob being a sweetheart, penetration (p in v ), cowgirl, handjob, kind of subby Bob, fluff, cute ending, no use of y/n.

Word count: 4.3K (i am so fucking sorry)

You were going to kill Valentina.

You’d stumbled into the room, half-walking, half-dragging yourself inside. The mission you'd just finished had been successful, but you didn’t get out completely unscathed. You felt like shit, and all you wanted to do was lie down and pass out.

And you were planning to—until you saw your room.

You and Bob always shared a room. It was just how things ended up being organized. Ava and Yelena got a room, Bucky and John shared another, and Alexei slept alone—because the Russian's snores made it impossible for anyone else to fall asleep in the same room. That left you paired up with Bob. It didn’t bother you. Bob was sweet and quiet. He kept to himself and didn’t talk in his sleep. He was practically the perfect roommate.

The only thing was that you each slept in your own twin bed. Space and privacy—well, as much privacy as you could get while sharing a room.

You stared at the queen bed in front of you, doing your best not to let your face show how pissed you were. You were failing miserably, of course. Anyone who walked into the room could tell you were angry.

You turned to face the door just as Bob walked in. He had a bag of chips in his hand, which told you he’d stopped to raid the snack machine on the way. He walked in, a small smile gracing his features.

And then he noticed your expression, and his smile shifted into a look of confusion.

You didn’t even bother saying anything, opting instead to just point at the bed. Bob moved closer to you, the bed finally coming into his line of sight. It took him a moment to realize the problem, his eyebrows rising as he finally understood the issue.

You sighed. You needed to calm down before doing anything else. Poor Bob wasn’t the subject of your anger, so you weren’t going to make him a victim of it.

“I need a shower,” you muttered, moving to grab your bag from the floor. “We can figure this out after we clean up, okay?”

You turned to Bob, who was still staring at the bed. He looked at you and gave a small nod.

“O-okay.”

You took your sweet time in the shower. Washing off the grime from the mission was easy; the problem was the thousands of little cuts and bruises littered all over your body. Every movement hurt a bit, and the soap stung wherever it found your skin. Still, you managed to get cleaned up.

You walked out of the bathroom, releasing a wave of steam as you stepped back into the room. Bob was sitting in the armchair, eyes glued to the TV as he finished his chips.

“Bathroom’s free. If you wanna clean up.”

Bob shifted his focus to you as soon as he heard your voice. He stared for a moment. You kept patting your hair dry with the towel as he observed you.

Bob couldn’t help but notice how pretty you looked. You were in what he guessed were your pajamas, your hair still damp from the shower, beads of water sliding down your skin. It felt awfully… homey, seeing you like this. So casual. So close. He was having a hard time stopping his mind from spinning a thousand scenarios of what it would be like to be with you—really be with you.

“Bob?”

You tilted your head slightly, your voice laced with a light note of concern. He’d been staring too long, and the questioning tone made it clear you’d noticed.

He shook his head, forcing himself back to the present.

“Sorry. My mind was somewhere else.”

“It’s okay. I left enough warm water for you. And there’s an extra towel by the sink.”

Bob’s heart fluttered at the thought that you’d cared enough to make sure he could have a warm shower—and had even laid out a towel for him. He stood, brushing crumbs off his lap before heading to the bathroom. You watched him disappear behind the door, and only then did you let out a breath. That look he’d given you… It wasn’t nothing. It couldn’t be.

You picked up the remote leaning on the edge of the bed as you flipped through the channels. Your head snapped over to the bathroom as you heard the shower come to life. Your eyes continued glued to the door for a moment, the documentary about baby otters suddenly forgotten. your mind kept drifting to Bob, standing just a few feet away, behind a thin door. Wet. Shirtless.

You sighed, shaking your head, forcing yourself to focus on the tv before you. You remembered you needed to pass some medicine in the worse cuts you’d gotten so you bussied yourself with that. 

The water shut off after a while. You tried very hard not to glance up every time a sound came from the bathroom, tried not to count how long it was taking him to come out.

Then the door creaked open.

And there he was.

Bob stepped out, steam curling around his tall frame, hair damp and tousled, cheeks still flushed from the heat of the shower. He wore nothing but a towel slung low around his waist, clinging to his hips in a way that felt... unfair.

Bob lifted his eyes from the floor, expecting to find you dressed and relaxing on the bed.

He was not expecting what he saw instead.

You were shirtless, hands resting on your ribs, mouth slightly parted as you looked up at him. He froze mid-step, caught off guard, eyes dragging across your bare skin before he could stop himself.

You stared too—eyes tracing the lines of his body, still damp, still only wrapped in a towel.

And then, almost simultaneously, you both seemed to snap out of it.

You scrambled to cover yourself, suddenly realizing how exposed you were. Bob’s eyes widened as color flooded his cheeks. He turned sharply, head ducking as he tried to look anywhere but at you.

“Oh—sorry,” he blurted out, gripping the towel tighter with one hand. “I, uh, forgot my clothes in my bag. Wasn’t expecting you to be…”

His voice trailed off again as his gaze accidentally flicked back to you. He immediately dropped his eyes to the floor.

“You’re fine,” you said quickly, though your throat felt bone-dry. Your heart was pounding way too loud in your ears.

In your hand, the medicine tube you'd been holding slipped slightly as you clenched your fingers too tightly around it. A glob of the ointment squirted out and plopped onto the floor. Bob made his way to his bag as you let out a soft curse moving to scoop it up with your finger. Behind you, you heard the faint rustle of fabric as he changed, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep your expression neutral.

“Do you need any?”

“Sorry—what?”

Bob turned to look at you, realizing you were carefully keeping your back to him as he changed.

“I’m dressed,” he said gently. “You can turn around.”

You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes immediately catching on Bob’s still very bare abs. He wasn’t wearing a shirt—but then, he never did when he slept. He ran hot, so he opted for fewer layers. You knew that from all the nights you'd shared a room with him. It had never been an issue before.

But now, the idea of lying next to him, just inches away from that warm skin, was going to be a problem.

“Are there any cuts that need ointment?” you asked, mostly to distract yourself.

“Oh, no, I…” He trailed off mid-sentence, looking a little sheepish. “I don’t get cut.”

You shook your head at yourself. Right. Of course he didn’t. He was incredibly powerful, despite having the most innocent face you’d ever seen. You were so used to looking out for him, you sometimes forgot he could bend metal with his bare hands.

“Sorry, I forgot.”

“You don’t need to apologize. It’s… nice. That you, you know—” he shrugged slightly “—that you care enough to ask.”

“Of course I do, Bob. You’re my teammate. I want to make sure you’re taken care of.”

Bob desperately needed you to stop talking to him like that. The warmth in your voice, the way you said his name—it was doing things to his head. Dangerous things. He gave you a small smile, his eyes drifting over your skin almost unconsciously.

You felt his gaze like a physical thing—soft, warm, reverent. You weren’t even sure he realized how he was looking at you, but it was doing things to you. Things it probably shouldn’t.

“You have one on your back.”

You blinked, needing a second to catch up.

“I do?”

You tried to twist around and look, searching for the injury.

“You probably can’t see it,” Bob said. “It’s like… right in the middle of your back.”

He opened his mouth, hesitated, then pushed himself to keep talking.

“I can get it for you. If you want.”

You couldn’t help the soft smile that tugged at your lips. Oh, this man is going to be the death of me.

“That’d be great, Bob. Thank you.”

You handed him the medicine and turned around. Bob squeezed a little onto his fingers—the cut wasn’t big, so he didn’t need much. Your skin tingled in anticipation as you waited for him to touch you. And when he finally did, you shivered. Partly because his hand was cool against your back and partly because it was him.

Bob’s fingers were gentle, almost too gentle, as he smoothed the ointment over the cut. The pressure was light, careful . His hand lingered a second longer than it needed to.

You felt it.

The pause. The heat.

Your breath caught for just a moment.

Then his fingertips brushed down slightly, like he was checking to make sure the ointment had spread properly. It wasn’t necessary—but he didn’t stop. And neither did you.

Your voice was quiet when you spoke. “You okay back there?”

Bob's hand stilled.

“Yeah,” he said after a beat, his voice softer than usual. “It’s just… hard to focus when you’re this close.”

That pulled your attention.

You turned your head, just slightly—enough to catch the faint flush spreading across his cheeks. His eyes were still on your back, but they kept flicking down, then away, like he couldn’t decide if he was allowed to look.

“We’ve shared rooms before,” you said gently, teasing. “We’ve slept five feet from each other for months.”

“Yeah,” he said, almost laughing. “But never like this.”

“I can take the floor.”

You’d been thinking about it for a while. You didn’t want to sleep on the floor—you wanted to sleep in the soft bed, preferably next to him. But you also wanted to be considerate.

You knew Bob had some issues with physical touch. He wasn’t opposed to it, but sometimes, when you caught him off guard, you’d see the way he flinched slightly—instinctively—before realizing you weren’t going to hurt him. Years of abuse would do that to a person.

Of course, you didn’t say any of this. You didn’t have to. Bob knew exactly why you’d offered. And still, he couldn’t help the warm, fuzzy feeling that filled his chest.

You were always doing stuff like this. Opting to help him out even when you had other things to do. You’d help with the dishes. You’d hang around with him in the living room, even though he was sure you could be using your time much better with training. Every time you could be near him, you chose to be. Bob tried to play it off as just your personality, but a small part of him knew better. 

You weren’t like that with everyone.

You were like that with him.

“I know you like your personal space,” you added softly.

Your words pulled him out of his thoughts. He realized how long he’d been silent, his hand still resting gently against your back. The ointment had been absorbed long ago, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Couldn’t bring himself to let go.

“I don’t mind,” he said, barely above a whisper. “If we share.”

You closed your eyes, your body relaxing instantly at his words.

You were glad he felt safe with you. You were really glad you wouldn’t be spending the night on the cold floor. You were glad that you’d sleep beside him tonight. It would probably be the last time you’d ever get a chance like this. So yes, maybe a bit selfishly, you were happy  you’d be sharing the bed.

You turned around to face Bob. He shifted his hand down, resting it against his stomach. You took in the look on his face, your eyes trailing from his eyes to his lips, to the flushed skin of his neck. And then you turned to look at the bed, choosing to focus on the task at hand.

“Okay. So how are we doing this?”

It had taken you a total of five minutes to figure everything out. Bob liked sleeping on the left, you liked sleeping on the right—so that was easy. You’d offered to make a pillow wall for Bob’s comfort. He’d told you it wasn’t necessary.

The two of you entered the bed, each settling on your respective side. You lay on your back, staring at the ceiling for a moment. Bob did the same.

A small yawn escaped your mouth before you could stop it. Bob turned his head to look at you, smiling at your sleepy face.

“I’ll get the light.”

You gave him a small smile before turning onto your side.

“Good night, Bob.”

“Good night.”

Darkness took over the room.

Falling asleep was easy for Bob. Keeping his mind clear, on the other hand, was not.

The dream had started simply. He could see your face, a small smile on it as you looked at him. And then it shifted. Your brows furrowed as you let out a soft groan. He was beneath you, hands resting on your hips as you moved. The sight was beautiful. He could live inside this dream.

Unfortunately, his body was beginning to betray him.

You felt him shift before you heard him. You turned your head to glance over your shoulder, eyes catching on Bob’s shaking frame. Your first thought was that he was having a nightmare. You knew it was a common occurrence, so you didn’t startle. You turned around, your hand reaching to touch his shoulder—when he let out a soft whimper of your name.

Your hand froze midair, breath catching.

He said it again. Clearer now.

Bob was dreaming. Dreaming of you. And by the sound of it, the dream was far from innocent.

You wanted desperately to keep listening—but you felt like a creep. So, instead, you gently tugged at him, trying to wake him up.

Bob was pulled out of his dream rather quickly.

He gasped, eyes flying open as he jerked upright. Disoriented, breath shallow, chest rising and falling. His eyes darted around the room until they landed on you—watching him with concern, still half-leaning over him.

“Hey,” you said softly, your hand brushing his arm. “You okay?”

Bob blinked a few times, swallowing hard. His face flushed deep red as memory rushed back in. The dream. Your voice. Your name on his lips.

Oh god.

“I—I’m sorry,” he muttered, sinking back onto the pillow and turning his face toward the wall. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Bob.”

You said his name firmly, gently, and his eyes hesitantly flicked back to you. You didn’t look disgusted. You didn’t look uncomfortable. If anything, you looked…curious. A little breathless.

“It’s okay,” you said. “You were dreaming.”

He nodded, ashamed.

“Was it… about me?”

Bob hesitated, then gave the smallest nod.

You paused. Your heart pounded. And then, barely above a whisper: “Was I… any good?”

That made him look at you. Really look at you. His lips parted, unsure what to say. You were smiling—soft and teasing, but your eyes were serious.

Bob swallowed hard. “Too good,” he said.

And suddenly, you were very aware of how close the two of you were. Of the warmth between you in the bed. Of everything unsaid that had built up over weeks, months. Your hand slid gently onto his chest. You hesitated for a second, eyes boring into Bobs. You could feel his chest rise and fall against your palm. You bit the inside of your cheek, realising that you were really about to do this. 

“Do you want to find out for real?”

Bob's breath caught.

You saw it in the way his lips parted, the way his fingers flexed slightly against the sheets, like he wasn’t sure whether to reach for you or ground himself.

He swallowed thickly. “Are you sure?”

His voice was low, hoarse, barely above a whisper—but it still managed to send a shiver down your spine. You leaned in just a little closer, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as you whispered:

“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t.”

That was all it took.

Bob surged forward, one hand cupping your cheek as his mouth met yours—tentative at first, like he was still afraid you might vanish. But when you kissed him back, firm and hungry, something in him snapped. His hand slid into your hair, the other arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you fully against him. You took the hint, climbing onto his waist as you settled on top of him. Bob whined into the kiss as you grazed his hard on. 

“You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?” you whispered against the corner of his mouth.

He gave a soft, embarrassed laugh and nodded, eyes fluttering closed as your hands moved across his stomach. “I—yeah. I didn’t think you’d ever…”

You cut him off with a firmer kiss this time, one hand slipping up to cradle the side of his neck, the other resting just above the waistband of his shorts. 

“You think too much Bob. Just focus on the feeling.”

Your palm slipped inside his shorts and he groaned, head raising up as he did. The action caused his neck to be on full display for you. You took it as an opportunity to kiss him there. Your hand found his dick, fingers moving over the head as you littered his neck with wet kisses. Then slowly you shifted your grip, allowing you to begin stroking him.  

Bob’s breath hitched—sharp and shaky—as your hand moved along his length. He whimpered, his hips bucking ever so slightly against your touch, chasing the friction. You could feel how desperate he already was, how quickly he was unraveling under your attention. It felt better than any drug. The sight of him panting slightly as his brows furrowed made you grind your hips down on him. 

“God—” he gasped, clutching at your waist, trying and failing to keep still beneath you.

The sound caused you to smile.

“Am i as good as you dreamed?”

Bob gaspsed, mind trying to form a coherent thought to answer you.

“So much better.”

“Oh yeah?”

He nodded before letting out a small moan. You shifted around, tugging his dick free from his shorts so you could stroke him better. The cold air on his dick made him shudder but your warm hand dulled the shift slightly. His hands were still on the bed beside him. Almost as if he was afraid to touch you without asking.

“You can touch me too, you know? If you want to.”

That was all he needed. Whatever resistance he had left crumbled at those words. His hands found your thighs, holding you tightly as if he still couldn’t quite believe this was real. You leaned down to kiss him again, slower this time, your hand never faltering in its rhythm. He moaned into your mouth, every sound he made going straight to your core. You rocked against him gently, your own arousal growing with every twitch of his hips beneath you.

“You feel so good,” he murmured against your lips, his voice shaky with awe.

You smiled, brushing your nose gently against his. “You do too,” you whispered. “You’re perfect, Bob.”

His eyes searched yours like he couldn’t quite believe this was real—like any second he expected to wake up. You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing just under his eye, grounding him.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” you admitted softly, heart fluttering as the words left your mouth. “Not just this—us.”

Bob swallowed hard, hands still resting on your thighs like he was afraid to grab too tight, afraid he’d break the moment. “Me too. God, me too.”

Your breath caught, and you leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, lingering—like you had all the time in the world. Your hand still stroked him gently, feeling every twitch, every little reaction as you poured everything into that kiss. Bob let out the softest whine, hips jerking involuntarily into your grip. 

“I wanna feel you. Please, I need—”

You shifted your hips, clothed cunt rubbing against your hand and stimulating his dick. 

“You want me to ride you?”

He nodded frantically, his voice nearly gone. 

“Yes. Yes, please.”

You leaned down again, kissing him slow and deep. Then you shifted your hips back, just enough to push your underwear to the side and line yourself up.You both gasped at the feeling, completely overwhelmed. He filled you perfectly, and you stayed still for a moment, letting the warmth of him settle deep inside you.

“You’re so beautiful,” Bob whispered, his thumbs brushing over your skin like he was memorizing you.

You clenched around him, hips begging to quicken their pace. Bob's hands slid up to your waist, holding on like he might float away otherwise. His hips bucked up to meet yours every time you moved. The desperation was growing inside both of you. You wanted to take it slow, wanted to show Bob just how much you felt for him. But the need for him was stronger than you could control. Bob didn’t seem to mind, blabbering beneath you as you sped up. Your hands found their way to his chest, using him as leverage to lift yourself up before dropping down again. Bob groaned, his hands tightening just slightly on your waist. 

“You’re all I ever think about,” he confessed, eyes squeezed shut like the truth hurt in the best way. “Not just like this. Always.”

The words hit you hard in the chest, and your movements stuttered for just a moment. You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, then his jaw. You were overwhelmed, full to the brim with him—his scent, his voice, his body.

“You’re perfect,” you whispered against his skin. “You’re everything.”

His arms wrapped around you, holding you to him as your bodies moved in tandem. You buried your face in his neck, moaning quietly as each thrust made your core tighten and your breath grow shorter.

You could feel it building—slow and sweet. Not just the orgasm, but everything. The connection, the weight of unspoken feelings, the years of dancing around this. You were both trembling under the intensity.

“I’m close,” you breathed, a little desperate now, your hips moving with more urgency.

“Me too,” Bob gasped, clutching you tighter. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

And you didn’t. You clung to each other like lifelines, chasing the high with trembling hands and whispered names, until it hit—hard and soft at the same time. A release that was more than physical. You came with a cry muffled against his neck, and Bob followed soon after, gasping your name like it was the only thing he knew.

When it was over, you stayed there, pressed together in the quiet, his hands still stroking your back gently, like he couldn’t bear to let go.

You stayed like that for a long time—foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling in the dark. Neither of you said anything at first, too wrapped up in the moment to break it with words. His hands never stopped moving, slow sweeps down your spine like he was trying to soothe you, ground you, or maybe himself.

Eventually, you stirred, gently lifting yourself off him with a soft hiss. Bob held your hips to steady you, eyes filled with concern.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, brushing his damp hair back from his forehead. 

“Yeah. Just tender.

He gave you a tired, tender smile that melted something deep inside you. You shifted off to the side, reaching for the blanket to pull over both of you. Bob curled closer instinctively, one arm wrapping around your waist, the other tucking beneath his cheek like a sleepy child. You ran your fingers through his hair, watching his eyes flutter shut, a soft hum of contentment leaving his lips.

“I meant what I said,” he murmured against your shoulder

“Me too.”

He smiled against your skin. 

“Good. 'Cause I think I’m in love with you.”

Your heart skipped, breath catching. You pulled back just enough to look at him. 

“You are?”

He nodded, shy but sure. 

“Yeah. I think I’ve been in love with you since the first time I saw you.”

You smiled, your chest aching in the most beautiful way. “Then we’re in the same boat.”

Relief washed over his face like sunlight breaking through clouds. He leaned in to kiss you again—slow and deep, with nothing rushed or frenzied. Just warmth. Just certainty.

When you finally pulled apart, you tucked yourself into his side, your fingers laced with his beneath the sheets.

And in the quiet stillness of the room, wrapped in the warmth of each other, the weight of everything finally lifted. You both drifted to sleep.

Maybe you wouldn’t kill Valentina after all. Maybe you’d just tell her to book a room with one bed for you and Bob. For future reference. 

[strkly]

something sweet

s.m: after the events of honey; bob spents a lot of time rethinking the past between you and him. he gets jealous. maybe the old feelings still laid below the surface.

robert ‘bob’ reynolds x sam wilson’s avengers!reader

w.c: 5.4k

c.w: not proofread, this also took me forever to write so this might have some inconsistencies between honey but dont think abt it too much. angst, hurt/comfort unhealthy relationship dynamics, mentions of drug usage, exes (with still something there), bob pov, over protective reader, bob and you are really bad at communicating, minor sambucky mention? can be taken as platonic tho, bff joaquin, im too tired to proofread this so really ignore all spelling errors ill go back and fix it soon. asumming its 2027 and bob is 30.

sorry this took me forever ! promise the last part wont take me as long as this one did (hopefully)

honey -> homesick

you dont end up going out to eat together much to your dismay and bob’s disappointment. sam must have gotten word you were off mission and was bothering you to report back to him. it got to the point you could no longer ignore and decided it would be better to head back.

you try to ignore the pout on bobs face as you grip his forearm. “dont worry, ill come back and we’ll get to hang out then okay?” he looks down at his feet before nodding; ignoring the minor ache in his chest at the idea of watching you walk away.

“just give me your phone number and ill call you.” he tilts his head as he looks back up at you, “my,,, phone number?” your face twists into annoyance as it dawns on you val hadn’t given him a phone. theres so many things you want to say, but instead you murmur to yourself, “that fucking bitch.” before you turn away pulling out your phone as you wave your hand behind you, “dont worry about it, ill see you guys!”

as you enter the elevator everyone sends you off with a small wave, right before you raise your phone to your ear you point your finger at them, “dont listen to anything val says seriously do not listen.” the doors close before anyone gets to say anything in return.

the group is dead silent simply staring at the elevator door. “what the hell was that?” no one says anything for a few moments before they all shrug and go all spread out to do god knows what in the tower. bob stays awkwardly staring at the elevator door like it was about to open back up and you would walk back in.

he has always tried so hard not to think about the past but now he finds himself still reminiscing in the memories he finds in his mind. “you know she was talking to you right?” bob is shaken out of his trance by the hand placed on his shoulder, turning quickly to see yelena smiling at him. “h-huh?” she just shakes her head and pats his shoulder, “dont worry we’ll protect you.” “from who?”

she says nothing else and hes far too tired to argue simply walking back up to his room and falling asleep, it was mid afternoon but he ends up sleeping into the next day. yelena realizes the the mental exhaustion must have hit him hard and assures the team he’ll be fine and she’ll talk to him once hes up.

he finally comes back down at lunch time. he weakly smiles at his teammates who look at him with concern as he debates on what to eat.

the three sitting on the couch huddle together as the look at him, “should we ask him about you know who?” “yelena told us not to.” “who’s yelena our mother? lets ask.” bucky walks past the group of them and rolls his eyes, “you know he can hear you right?”

the three of them turn back to bob who had a deathly grip on the open fridge door as he stared at it like it held all the answers. he had dreamed about you. he couldn’t tell if it was a dream or a memory of something that actually happened.

saratosa spring’s 2015

you had your hand tightly wrapped around his, walking in front of him as you dragged him along with you. a big smile on your face as you hummed along to some tune in your head. he was quiet, he always was after coming down from a high but you know he’ll perk up as soon as you get to the lake. you had just finished finals and it was way too damn hot to stay in your apartment with the shitty ac you decide to take a trip with him to the lake an hour out from you.

he actually liked long car rides, staring out the window at the passing landscapes, the wind blowing through his grown out hair while listening to the static radio you had in your beat down car brought him a sense of peace. he hadn’t expected to go on one today, he must have forgotten about it since it seemed like you mentioned it before or maybe you had told him during the haze and he didn’t realize you were even speaking to him. its not like he ever had anything to do so when you came home with some groceries and pulled out the cooler he got ready to go.

the lake is gorgeous. its hidden behind the trees but before you can see it you can hear the wild rushing of water flowing from the waterfall. when it finally comes into view it feels like youve been transported to another planet. he hears you squeal as you rush to set up your stuff, “its been so long since ive been here, its still so pretty.” he hums back at you as he sets up the towels not able to form a response, still not 100% back to himself but he chugs down two ice cold water bottles to shock himself back to reality.

he lifts off his shirt as you strip down to your swimsuit, turning to him the smile you had your face had him staring at you in wonder, you were the most wonderful thing in the world. not even the highs he reached could be a great as you. you hold out your hand to him and he finds himself moving to grab yours before he even knows what hes doing. “lets jump!”

after your conversation he did a lot of thinking when he woke up. it never really occurred to him your dynamic had so much of an effect on you. you did basically everything for him, hell you even taught him how to swim, it never occurred to him you had just gotten him way too comfortable. never pushing him to do more simply content with the routine and life you guys had. he had never really thought about it like that. maybe you were right. but he didn’t want you to be right, he was the problem wasnt he?

yelena had come to his room early in the morning, he was up trying to take his mind off the thoughts he was having by reading a book. “youve been staring at that page for ten minutes.” he looks up alarmed, not even knowing she had entered his room. “oh, um you know,, really interesting stuff.” she walks over to him and gently sits on the bed in front of him before grabbing the book and flipping it around, “its upside down.”

“ah. i knew that…”

when she asked him if he needed anything he’s grown to feel so comfortable around her he confides in her what had happened yesterday and some history between the two of you, leaving out the precious memories he has.

shes quiet for awhile. thinking about how to word a good response before she sighs, placing a hand on his. “i think shes right.” thats not what he wanted to hear. “why.” it wasn’t a question, more so his disbelief spilling out of his mouth but she takes it like a question anyway. “because if what you say is true she would have been successful no matter what, she is a good woman. she would have been happy in life because she was with you. but you would have never been happy because you were with her.”

it bothered him. and rethinking all of his time with you bothered him so much because in all of his memories you are so so happy. and he was, him. sure he was as happy as he could get but he was never truly happy with life and he just thought he never would be.

“the food in the fridge is gonna get hot at this rate.” he snaps back into reality as bucky slips behind him not even sparing him a glance as he fixed himself a drink. without thinking he slams the fridge door shut so strongly it makes a strange sound and everyones heads turn towards him. he just stares at it awkwardly trying to see if it was broken but it looked alright so he left it alone, sparing everyone a quick sorry as he glanced around the room.

the elevator door dings and suddenly all attention is off of bob and towards the door. there was no way it was you. it wasn’t. and he tries not to ket his disappointment show on his face. mel smiles at the group as he holds up the large bag she had in her hand, “i brought lunch.”

everyone cheered before gathering around the large brown bags rummaging around in them for their food. bob stands back, letting everyone else take their pick before he even thinks about heading over towards it. “oh right bob,” he looks over to mel who shuffles through her bag before holding out a phone to him. “courtesy of valentina”

bucky scoffs and laughs as bob hestitantly takes the phone from mel and smiles at her. “she yell at her?” mel hesitates to answer as bob stares at the phone, “off the record,, yes yes she did and she wouldn’t let anyone touch the phone, i was given it just now with someone breathing down my neck.”

you must have thought val or any of her minions would have bugged it. bucky realizes you were likely right and they would have, hes ever shocked you let mel hold it at all it must have been because he talked to you about how mel was a good one.

they continue to talk around him but he tunes them out. he cant even remember the last time he had a phone that wasnt a flip phone, probably when he was with you and you had bought it for him but he left it all those years ago. it doesn’t have a password and had no personality clearly new, but the phone did have one contact in it.

yours.

it was just your name, no nickname no emoji just your name. but with your contact page there was a little note you had left, “text me whenever you want! :)”

he doesn’t. he wants to. yet he keeps on staring at your contact page while he sits in bed. what would he even say? he cant just say hi thats too lame, but if he says anything else would he be coming off too strong?

lost in his own frustration he grips his phone awkwardly not even realizing his fingers slipped over the video call button and suddenly he was calling you. he yelped, his fingers trembling as he tried to end the call but the dark screen and ringing was soon changed into the site of your smiling face and the sound of your voice, “hi! give me one sec okay?”

he involuntarily begins to smile at the sound of your voice and he watches as your face disappears from view but he can still hear you talk to someone off screen. “im leaving joaquin,”

he can hear the sound of you gathering up your stuff. wait whos joaquin?

“who are you taking to? your boyfriend? let me see!”

“goodbye! leaving now!”

the sound of your rushing footsteps fills the air he can hear some voices call after you but you continue to briskly make your way out of the area you were before bring the phone back up and smiling at him.

“hi, sorry about that. its so good to hear from you are you alright?”

he pushes his questions down his throat as he smiles, nodding before he quickly rushes to actually speak, “yes hi sorry i didn’t mean to call you you seem busy…”

“no no no i just left work now i was meaning to leave anyway but i kept on getting distracted.”

distracted talking to that guy, the darker part of his mind thinks. he doesn’t have a right to think like that. the two of you haven’t been together in almost over a decade.

“im sorry…”

still he feels the need to apologize despite your words. he watches the way the afternoon light hits your face, the soft tone of your voice and he melts. “you know, you can call or text me whenever you want honey, ill always answer.”

2017

he was home alone. you were at work and he had gotten fired from the liquor store you managed to get him a job for and he felt terrible.

“dont worry baby, we’ll figure it out we always do.”

you’ll figure it out. thats what you had meant, he couldn’t really do anything. the tv was on yet the noise from it flowed from one ear to the other as he tried to shake the thoughts from his head.

he couldn’t do anything right. why did he even bother? he would be better off dead. his hands shook as he gripped his head tight. he couldn’t hear his fathers voice, angry like it always was he could hear the disappointment from his mother.

he couldn’t breathe.

he gripped his phone and found your contact and called it out of instinct. the ringing of it falling on deaf ears as the only sounds he could hear was his own pounding heartbeat.

it hadn’t even occurred to him you were still at work till you answered with a frazzled look on your face glancing around, he could recognize the ceiling and the walls of your work place, “hey honey did you need something?” he sees your face fall as you recognize the look on his face. “honey are you okay?”

he alway just messes everything up.

“im sorry.”

he hangs up. his phone flies from his hand and hits the wall. it probably breaks but he doesn’t care. he puts his head in his hands as he starts to hyperventilate.

of course you wouldn’t be free to talk to him you actually had things to do. you were actually important. unlike him. who has no place in this world, a worthless piece of space who means nothing.

he doesn’t know how long hes sitting there spiraling, but its not long enough feels cold hands touch his face and your sweet sonnet voice.

“honey, hey please look at me.”

you were looking at him with that sad face you get whenever someone yelled at him or whenever he was in one of his bad moods like he was right now.

he hated that look on your face.

“w-what are you doing here?”

“i was worried about you, are you okay?”

thats how it always was. whenever he was in any sort of peril you rushed to save him. you were like a superhero. it didn’t matter you had to cut your shift early and beg your coworker to cover the rest of the day for you. it didn’t matter rent was coming up and you would probably need to work a double or two to cover for today.

you just came to him. no matter what. and when he finally manages to force a smile you meet him with a gentle look on your face and a bag of hot takeout on the coffee table he felt like everything was alright just for awhile.

“you know, you can call or text me whenever you want honey, ill always answer.”

it becomes a regular thing. the two of you calling and texting each other everyday. the times zones are a little finicky so he ends up talking to you late into the night without a care in the world.

he avoids asking when you’re coming back to visit despite how eager he is. he knows you’re busy but he also knows that the two of you are dancing around the unavoidable.

there were numerous articles day to day about who the real avengers were and every shot with sam or every press he did you stood by his side and supported his cause. the two of you never talked about. when he would ask you what you did today when you had a press conference talking about how sam had the true right to have the real avengers you would say you just did this and that nothing special. you would have to talk about it eventually, but it was definitely not going to be anytime soon.

something else began to bother him during this time. that guy, joaquin he found out was his name. bucky had mentioned a thing or two about him. good guy, captain in the air force, smart, funny. he was gonna be sick.

you would always be standing next to him during conferences, the two or you could be seen chatting and laughing together in paparazzi photos. he has no right to be upset, you two arent together and haven’t been for awhile he cant be upset he shouldn’t be.

it had been a month now, but he hadn’t heard from you for two days now. it was odd. you had both talked everyday no matter how busy you were and you had suddenly gone radio silent. he tried not to let it bother him, you didnt have to talk to him everyday. he did chores he tried to train but it just continued to eat at the back of his head.

yet he finally heard from you once again. it was early afternoon. he was sitting on the couch drinking a decaf frappuccino yelena had gotten when she went go get the team coffee when the elevator door suddenly opened and the sound of people bickering filled the air.

everyone stood up at the sight of you, dragging sam by the ear towards the center of the room while joaquin trailed a little behind looking around the room with wonder.

you were wearing a business suit. he had seen you in a few of them but this one was clearly tailored like he’d seen during your press conferences. you’re had had been done the way you liked it still the same all those years ago, somethings never changed.

his fist clenched in his lap.

“you two are going to talk about it.”

“i dont wanna talk to him.”

“i dont give a shit.”

bucky looked the most alarmed out of the group and took a couple steps towards them. when sam noticed bucky he straighted up and turned his head away. “stop acting like a child wilson.”

only to make it worse bucky begins to match his posture and huffs. “you guys stop acting like babies before i get pissed off.”

“you’re already pissed off.”

“and you’re making it worse barnes.”

after a couple moments of silence you realize neither of them are going to crack you roll your eyes before grabbing both of them and dragging them down to an empty room. “joaquin play nice with them while were gone!” you ignore the sound of bucky and sam trying to argue with you and wiggle out of your death grip as you drag them out the room out of ear shot from everyone else who just stares at the three of you.

“remind me never to mess with her.” walker sits down next to ava and shakes his head, “trust me you really dont want to.” he shakes as a chill overcomes his body taking a long sip from his cup.

joaquin just sort of stares around the room in wonder before turning to the group trying to figure the joyful look on his face with something akin to serious but its very obvious its not genuine.

“serious doesn’t look good on you torres”

“shut up walker.”

bob has to put down his cup as his grip on it grows too tight he fears itll explode. its odd seeing the guy he’s seen only in photos and videos in person, he tries not to stare but he finds his jaw clenching before he even realizes it. yelena notices straight away, looking at him knowingly before turning back to joaquin with a grin.

“so like she your girlfriend?” yelenas finger points towards the way you had just dragged them off. walker spits out some of his drink and covers his mouth in a cough as joaquin tilts his head in confusion.

one of bobs hands reaches over and grips yelena’s jacket tugging it to try and get her to stop. he didn’t want to know, his chest hurts. but yelena ignores his movements and just grins at joaquin.

“who?” “you know, y/n.”

he laughs.

why the hell is he laughing?

his hands fly and out in from of him as he shakes his head, the humor still in his tone as he speaks. “nah nah, i like her shes cool but dating? no definitely not shes a good friend.” “ahh i get it.”

the relief he feels flowing through his body is the closest thing he’s felt to being high since he’s been sober. he doesn’t even fight off the sigh that leaves his body ignoring yelenas knowing look at him.

he notices the way joaquin is staring at him. its a familiar look to the ones he’s seen from the people from his past. its one thats trying to read him, trying to figure him out. he doesnt like it. when he shifts comfortably in his seat joaquin apologizes. “sorry man its just, have i seen you before?”

thats not what he was expecting to hear. even the other guys in the room seem confused by joaquins words. “umm no?” “the news maybe.” ava hits walker on the shoulder but he just turns to her confused, “what?”

joaquin just continues to stare for a minute or two, his hand coming to grab his chin as his eyes squint in concentration. suddenly his eyes light up and he claps his hands together, “oh i know, you’re the one whos her friend right?,” joaquin doesnt even wait for bob to nod his head before continuing. “shes got a picture of you on her desk. damn im good.”

bobs face contorts into disbelief as joaquin looks pleased with himself. “what picture?”

“looks like it was her graduation, shes wearing a cap and gown.”

oh right, he knows what picture joaquin’s talking about.

it was right after the lake trip you had taken him on. your high school graduation, you had originally told him he didnt need to go. you still went to the same school he had dropped out of, not wanting to overwhelm him but he still wanted to go. it was your big day, graduating top of your class you had worked so hard he pushed down all his bad thoughts and managed to show up for you. he hid his face, too embarrassed to be seen by his former teachers and classmates but he still stood up and cheered when your name had been called. his cheeks hurt from smiling while you were giving your speech.

the first thing you did after it was all done was run over to him with a big smile on your face. he wrapped you in his arms and spun you around. “im so proud of you baby.” the sound of your laugher fills his ears as you snuggle your head in the crook of his neck. “im so happy you’re here.” you quickly pulled out your digital camera from your pocket and snapped a picture of the two of you wrapped in each others arms and smiling at the camera.

you should have been off to some ivy league college after that. getting some fancy degree getting a high paying job living in a nice house. yet you werent, everyone was more than confused when you said you were staying local, going to the near by community college and getting a regular business degree. you were meant to be doing so much more thats what everyone had said, but you couldnt leave bob. sure he would follow you anywhere you went but the idea of him being too overwhelmed by a new city put you off of moving all together.

he didnt get to go to your college graduation he had already left you at that point. he wonders what you had looked like, what you wore. he couldnt remember what the school colors were. did anyone even show up for you? you did have many friends outside of casual acquaintances at school and bob was even the only one at your high school graduation. were you all alone that day? he swallows down an ache in his chest at the idea of you standing all alone while everyone around you celebrates with their loved ones.

“right yeah, probably me. i-i mean, i was there so..”

he has no clue what to say. he tells himself its probably the only picture you have of your graduation of course you would frame it and keep it, it has nothing to do with him its just a coincidence he’s in the photo. he’s not special.

thankfully like the angel you are you finally come back into the room sam and bucky on your tail. it seems like the tense has dissolved off of the three of you. “everything good?”

you walk over and pat joaquin on the shoulder and nod. bobs head twitches. “yep, the married couple made up just fine.”

“dont call us that.”

bucky and sam look over and each other and smile. sam places his hand on buckys shoulder and shakes it gently.

“we’ll have to have a long talk with valentina but yeah, i think we’ll be alright.”

a gentle look of affection graces buckys face in a way none of the thunderbolts have ever seen. its strange but no one has the heart to say anything.

bob cant take his eyes off you. the soft smile on your face as you stare at the two guys. when your eyes drift over to him his body perks up and he straightens in his seat like a dog. he must be imagining the way the smile on your face grows at the sight of him.

“who wants to go to lunch? my treat.”

while everyone perks up and gets ready to go you walk over to bob. yelena gets up, shooting bob a knowing look before rushing over to ava. bob stands to greet you. tugging on the ends of his sleeves he grins, “hi.”

“bob, im so sorry. my phone got broken on this mission and i couldn’t reach you.” you grip his forearm and smile at him apologetically. he feels so relieved to see you to hear your voice he laughs. his voice full of joy as he leans closer to you. “im happy to see you.”

you wiggle a bit closer to him and he fights the urge to lay his forehead on yours. the grip you have on his forearm growing ever so tighter. “im happy too.”

“i still owe you a lunch, come on lets go.”

you grip his hand, he doesn’t let you go until you get to the restaurant, if anyone notices they dont say anything.

you had rented out the private room at this brunch spot. on the way there you told him how you always came here whenever you were in the city and were excited for him to try it.

he sat next to you, joaquin sat in front of you much to bobs dismay. sam to his right bucky next to him, everyone else gathered in the remaining seats. different people at the table begin to form their own conversations while looking over the menu.

joaquin was smirking at you as he glances between you and bob who was focused on looking over the pancake options. he only looked up once you kicked joaquin in the shin, giving you a confused look but you just smile and go back to looking at the menu not before glaring at joaquin once more.

“dont even start.”

“i didnt even say anything.”

bobs jaw clenches as joaquin grins at you while you roll your eyes. he places his hand on your thigh without thinking and you turn to look at him. he stares down at the menu with a glare biting his tongue. he doesnt have any right to feel the way he does. he knows the two of you are not even dating but the pit in his stomach doesn’t go away no matter how much he wants it to.

his whole body tightens as he feels your hand grab his. he expects you to rip the hand off and give him a nasty look. yet you simply just flip his hand around and lace your fingers with his. his whole body softens, once his jaw relaxes he notices how much it aches from the tension he had been putting on it. he looks over and you and you caught his eye, giving him a sneaky grin before reading the menu.

orders are taken, its a messy than expected. alexei changes his mind on his order about five times before he settles on something, bob messes up saying what he wants twice but you step in and help him, joaquin had been so distracted by teasing you he had forgotten to pick something so he randomly chose something off the first page.

“so how long are you all in new york?”

“just for the weekend, we gotta be back in dc by monday.”

joaquin looks at you as he taps you on the arm. “but you’re not heading back with us right?”

you shake your head, taking a long drink out of your glass. “i have the week off.”

“you’re staying in new york?”

he’s hopeful. more hopeful than he wants to admit but you shake your head leaving him heartbroken. “im going out of state.”

“arent you headed back to florida?”

joaquin hisses as you slam your foot onto his. “shut up!”

“florida? for what?”

you lean your head back and sigh, clear irritation riddled on your face as you use your free hand to scratch your jaw. “nothing.”

“you have an apartment down there-“

he groans again as you stomp his other foot, glaring at him. “joaquin if you dont shut your mouth.”

“where?”

bobs not asking you. he’s asking joaquin, who gives him a hesitant look, looking back between the two of you.

“miami.”

bob doesn’t believe you. he turns his head to you. he knows that look on your face, when he would ask you something and you didn’t wanna answer him. “where is it.”

you stare at him, your eyelids rapidly blink as you click your tongue. you stay silent for a few moments before you sigh dejectedly. “i still have the apartment in saratosa.”

you look away, thankfully the food comes out and the two of you are able to get away without saying anything for a few minutes as the waiters come down to place all the food infront of you all.

he doesn’t know what to think. he stares down at his pancakes deep in thought. why would you keep it? from what he’s found out its been years since you’ve lived in flordia. maybe you use it like a storage house? yeah thats gotta be it. theres no way you would keep it cause you actually wanted it… right?

joaquin had moved on to chatting with sam and bucky leaving you and bob to be the only people not engaged in some conversation at the table. he wants to say something to you, anything at all but nothing comes out.

“i get homesick. sorry you must think its really weird, i mean, it was your home too so…”

you mumble it just loud enough for only him to hear. he doesn’t know what to think. he has so many questions, so many thoughts. he wants to talk with you about everything, but what would he even say when he has no clue himself what he’s even thinking?

your palm feels sweaty, probably because he runs so hot but you didn’t dare to pull your hand off of his. he squeezed your hand tightly and let out a shaky breath.

“can i come with you?”

[ephemeralbutterfly]

[Image IDs:

All the images in the first post are of separate Reddit posts on r/lgbt from u/CountryMamaLynn

First image: Post titled "My son came out NEED ADVICE", which reads:

"If this post seems a little messy its because I'm typing this out quick.

Y'all this is a new account I made just now because I need to vent and I'm not sure where else to post this and my family follow my real account.

My son 15 just came out yesterday as gay to my husband and my husband kicked him out well I was at work! I got a panicked phone call from my baby telling me everything and let me tell y'all I was pissed I left work early and drove over to my house where I saw my baby boy sitting on the curb with his clothes and shit all across the damn lawn and a screaming as if now soon to be ex husband who is not the man I thought I married!!! I gave that bastard a piece of my mind and told him that if he can't be a man and support his son then he can kiss my ass and find someone else to pay his bills. I shoved by boy's stuff in the back of truck and went to hotel that I'm in right now cause my parents can't pick us up till Monday so we can stay with them. I don't know much about this whole gay thing so what can I do to make my kid feel accepted????

EDIT I took y'alls advice I pay for the house so that mother fucker will be out in a few days and my son will be back in his home. I bought my son a bunch of pride stuff! Apparently he's had a boyfriend for around 7 months now and I'm getting to meet him over facetime tomorrow and I'm so excited!!!! I'm doing everything I can to make him feel loved. Out of everything that's happened the most heart breaking thing was my son saying "I'm sorry I'm crying mom I just need to be strong" I told him that he doesn't need to be strong he needs to be loved and that I'll do anything I can to make him feel that way. God this is the hardest thing in my life" [text cuts off at bottom of image]

Second image: Post titled "Meeting my baby boy's bf tomorrow !!!!!" reading "I'm sooo excited y'all, we're meeting over facetime and I'm so happy I'm knitting my son a rainbow blanket and aaaaaa its turning out perfect!!!"

Third image: Post titled "C: get fucked mark" which is the women yelling at the cat meme with the women labeled "My ex husband trying to kick out my son for being gay" and the cat edited to be wearing a rainbow cape and labeled "My son and I kicking him out cause I own the house"

Fourth image: Post titled "Update y'all Mark's reaction (read the previous posts if you're confused)" which reads:

"(In case you don't know this is the after math of me kicking out my now ex husband after he tried to kick out my baby boy for being gay while I was at work.)

I called him and very "Kindly reminded" him who owns the house and pays the bills and he was screaming about how "You need me woman, you can't just kick me out whore" and asked to meet in person. So I did but I don't trust him so I brought my adorable camo baseball bat just in case things went south so we met up in front of the house and he was hooting and hollering about how "I was already screwing a different woman so I don't need you!" And obviously this upset me but hen I remembered that I don't have to put up with this crap so I told him it's time to haul ass before i make him and he started crying like a baby begging me to let him stay and saying "you'll never find another man like me" and I told him that is the whole point of me leaving him. So he finally left after hours crying like a bitch and now my son and I have lots of extra space!"

Fifth image: Post title "HAY Y'ALL Mama Lynn update" which reads:

"I was talking to my son who if you haven't seen my other posts came out recently, and found out I might not be just a straight ally!

I assumed all straight ladies were also just as attracted to other ladies as they were men and I never really thought about it till now but turns out I might be bi??? Is that the right word?? Thanks for all the love n support!!"

Sixth image, in reblog: The "Good for her" meme

End image ID]

[puppysuh]

so… we all know how i feel about meanie!haechan, but what about nerd!haechan who’s never seen or touched a pussy in his life but is surprisingly really freaky?

if you’re wondering why i’m so obsessed with him, just watch a couple of clips of him from the university festival performance. those glasses… ouh get him in me NOW!

you approach him because you feel bad for him. he’s always alone, nose in a book or fingers tapping rapidly at his laptop, and whilst your girlfriends like to make fun of him for being such a loser, you’re surprisingly quite intrigued by him.

when you approach him the first time, you begin to see what your friends mean. he’s shy, his glasses falling down his nose as he avoids eye contact with you like the plague. he’s right to be cautious; what are you, the campus sweetheart, doing talking to him, the guy who’s rumoured to only shower once a week and lock himself in his room to jerk off to cheap porn?

you should be laughing in his face, ridiculing him for being such a freak of nature but no, instead you stand in front of him, voice sweet like honey whilst you twirl your hair and await his responses with bated breath. and when he finally looks up at you, into those beautiful eyes he spent so long avoiding, he’s completely gone, and he decides that he must have you.

nerd!haechan would overthink your interaction for the next week. seriously, why were you talking to him? did you like him? did you want to get to know him better? or worse… did you just want sex? that’s what most people are after nowadays anyways, so he begins to train himself up for the next time he talks to you.

instead of avoiding your group like a disease, he begins following you discreetly, taking note of everything you like. that coffee shop just opposite your dorm? he’s memorised your order. your seat in the library? he scares off anyone who tries to sit there by sitting directly opposite it, only moving when he sees you come through the door. and he’s stalked your social media too; all of your highlights are screenshotted and placed into a special album in his phone, reserved solely for you.

he also has another album, a hidden one, full of… other photos.

at first glance, it looks normal. a picture of you at the beach holding an ice cream, or another of you posing in a party dress. all standard highlight posts, posts nobody would suspect nerd!haechan would jerk off to almost every night, glasses fogged up as he memorises every curve of your body, toes curling as he focuses on the way your tongue flicks out to lick the top of the ice cream, a dribble of white cream running down your chin.

he doesn’t know how he manages to face you at school, but he does anyways, and when you finally ask him for some ‘tutoring’, he happily accepts, pushing his glasses up on his nose and trying to divert his eyes away from the cleavage displayed by your dangerously low cut top.

he’s surprised how quickly you jump on him the moment you get through the door of his apartment. you probably think you’ve caught him off guard, slamming your lips into his and grinding your hips forward against his crotch. you think you’re doing charity work, fucking the college loser so nobody else has to.

you couldn’t have been more wrong.

you see, along with his extensive jerking sessions to your instagram posts, haechan has been doing some studying, and not the academic kind. he knows how to make you feel good despite never having a chance to, and when he lifts you up against the door and presses your back flat against it, you’re nothing short of shocked.

“you thought i didn’t know?” his voice is quiet, and whilst his tone carries little to no conviction, it travels straight to your core. “i’m your little passion project, right? fucking the loser so you can feel less bad about yourself.”

before you can open your mouth to answer, he’s pushing his hips upwards into your clothed core, and any protests are replaced by a soft whine. “haechan, that’s not—”

“shut. up.” he thrusts forwards again, and the back of your head meets wood, arms wrapping around his neck as shocks of pleasure roll up your spine. “i’m not some fucking charity case.”

it’s safe to say he’s rendered you speechless. you look down at him, and where before you saw an unkempt loser, now you see someone hungry with lust, and you like it. “kiss me,” you breathe, and he complies, his mouth crashing into yours as he carries you across his living room.

you’d always wondered if he would keep his glasses on during sex, and that night, you got your answer. they slide down the bridge of his nose as his rams his cock into your cunt at a dizzying rhythm, one hand clasping your wrists together above your head, the other rubbing at your clit furiously.

“say you were wrong,” he grunts, sounding almost pained as he repeatedly bumps the tip of his cock into that spot that makes you squirm. “say i’m good, better than anyone you’ve ever had.”

“you’re s-so good!” you can barely speak— barely even breathe, not with the way his hand moves from your clit and to your throat, forcing your chin upwards to look at him. “f-fuck, ‘m sorry, haechan.”

and for the first time since you met him, he smiles a genuine smile, one that almost seems deranged, obsessive. “that’s right,” he says, “the best you’ll ever have.”

a/n : i’m so obsessed with the idea of him being borderline evil its insane. please feed me more haechan delusions guys i think i might love him 💔💔

edit : I MADE A PART 2 check it out if you love me (or nerds)

[mrsbarnesblog]

HIII! can you write a fic in which Rafe and reader are like friends w benefits who are also roommates, and she’s been ignoring him for a while and he’s loosing his shit trying to figure out why. And one night he confronts her and she reveals that she’s pregnant and he’s so ecstatic that he knocked her up that he fcks her. I imagine him like telling her how he wanted to knock her up while he’s talking her through it, basically revealing how manipulative he can be. LOVE UR WRITING, would love to read your take on this! 💌

words: 1.4k

warnings: p in v, creampie, breeding kink, possessive and dark-ish Rafe, dub-con

a/n: thank you for your request, anon <3 my first time writing something like this, so i hope you like it

Rafe knew you well enough to understand that your sudden quietness and distancing from him meant something serious. Over the last year, when you two were roommates and half of this time you spent at a borderline of something you could name as ‘friends with benefits,’ he noticed patterns in your behavior that became a norm. The way you talked too much, the way you liked wearing his clothes, lying about not being able to find yours, or the way you had always sneaked into his room in the middle of the night. 

But he was fed up with your sudden change, when you didn’t even spare a glance at him, always locking yourself in your room and saying something about being tired. 

Rafe didn’t even knock on your door when he decided to end it, because there was nothing he didn’t see before, nothing you could’ve possibly been ashamed of. You were lying on your side, facing the wall, looking so small and vulnerable. 

“You’re ignoring me.” He said simply, standing in the middle of your room with his hands in the pockets of his sweats. He saw your sigh, the way your body slightly tensed at his words. “You can’t ghost me forever, you know that? Just say what happened and I’ll fix it.” 

You debated for a few seconds because, truthfully, he was right—hiding the truth was pointless. It only made you stress more than you would’ve preferred, and it was probably better to rip the bandage off and deal with Rafe’s reaction. 

Before you could think of a better way to say it, you had already rolled over, sitting at the edge of the bed, facing him, as the words instantly slid off your tongue. “I’m pregnant.”

He blinked once. Twice. His mouth slightly opened as his eyes burned a hole in your face, and your stomach tightened with anxiety. You expected Rafe to get angry, storm away, start screaming—anything. But you didn’t expect to see a one-sided grin spreading across his face.

“You’re pregnant? With my kid?” He stepped closer, being dangerously calm and relaxed, as if it was something casual, something he actually anticipated. 

“Whose else would it be?”

“Shit, baby.” Just like that, Rafe was kneeling in front of you, shirtless, spreading your thighs enough to make some room for him. His eyes were dark, roaming over your body, fixating on your belly, even if he couldn’t even see it through the shirt. Your mouth went dry and you felt your heart beating faster because you couldn’t quite understand what was going on.

He grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you into a heated kiss. He was greedy, missing the way you tasted after you ignored him for so long. Your hands grabbed his forearms, barely able to keep up with his sudden wild pace. You moaned into his mouth, not even sure yourself whether you wanted to push him away and ask what was happening or push him closer to release some pent-up tension. 

“You think I didn’t want it?” Rafe growled against your lips, pushing you back down on the bed and crawling up your body, until he was fully seated in between your thighs, his cock painfully hand against you. “You think I didn’t fuck you raw every time because I wanted to pull out?” Your heart was beating in your ears as pure shock washed over you at his words. Rafe didn’t stop though, didn’t even let you process it, as his hands were already pushing your shorts and panties down your legs. 

“Rafe, what—“

“I wanted to knock you up.” You felt his grin against the skin of your neck, his hands working on pulling his own pants down, too eager to feel you wrapped around him again. 

Your breath stuttered. “What?”

“You heard me. You wanted it too, didn’t you?” Rafe whispered, slightly pulling away and settling in between your legs. He smiled at the sight of your bare and slick pussy, seeing how you unconsciously parted your legs for him like you always did. Like your body knew what you needed even before you could process it. His hands were trailing up your sides like he’s already imagining them swelling. “You think I didn’t notice when you stopped asking me to pull out? Think I didn’t clock that little pout when I grabbed a condom that one time?”

“Rafe—”

“You wanted it. Just like I did. You liked the idea of me ruining you for everyone else. Of me making you mine.” He mumbled, grabbing his cock and dragging it up your soaked slit, then pressing further and sliding into your perfect wet hole. 

You should’ve pushed him away, should’ve yelled at him, but instead your eyes rolled back at the familiar stretch, your legs moving up on instinct to wrap around his hips. 

“Fuck, baby.” Rafe groaned, bottoming out with a sharp snap of his hips, like he belonged there, like he’d made it home in you months ago and now he was just settling back in. “You feel tighter. S’cause of the baby, huh?”

You whimpered, your hands clawing at his back, the words catching in your throat, unable to form any coherent thought. You hadn’t touched him in more than a week, hadn’t let him this close, and now he was inside you, stretching you the way he used to every night, making your body feel like it was floating.

“I knew it.” He rasped, biting softly at your jaw, your cheek, anywhere he could leave a mark. “Knew I did something to you. You kept coming back to me like a little addict, all needy and sweet, and now look—” He looked down, pushing your t-shirt up to show your still-flat belly, his eyes going up and down from it to the way your pussy was swallowing his cock. 

You gasped, nails digging into his back, as he picked up the pace, pounding into you until the bed creaked under your bodies. “I didn’t think—”

“You didn’t need to think.” His voice dropped to a growl. “I was already planning it. Dreamed about this. Knockin’ you up so you’d never leave. So you’d have to be mine.”

The words hit you the way you didn’t expect, with your core separately tightening around him and dragging a ragged growl from his lips. You were panting now, your legs trembling, the burn of it all nearly too much.

“Say it.” He grunted, thrusts growing sharper, rougher, making you whimper helplessly. “Say you wanted it. Say you wanted me to fill you up.”

“I wanted it.” You cried out, body arching beneath him, the truth spilling just like your tears. “I wanted you…fuck! Rafe, I wanted you.”

He kissed you hard for that, swallowing every sound, every breath, holding your face so you couldn’t move away. “That’s my girl.” He rasped, forehead pressed to yours. “Fuckin’ meant to get you pregnant.”

Your walls clenched around him so tight he choked on a moan.

“Meant to make you mine. Knew the second you let me hit it raw, it was over. Knew your body wanted this.”

“Rafe, I—I can’t—” You whimpered, dragging your nails down his sweaty spine, pleasure crashing over you in a sudden wave, your body giving in before your mind could even catch up.

“That’s it.” He gasped, pushing his cock into you in another sharp thrust that was borderline painful, pace faltering as he chased his own high, face buried in your neck. “Gonna fuck you through it. Gonna come so deep you’ll feel it in your fuckin’ belly.”

And then, as your body started convulsing in shocks, you felt the warmth flooding your insides. Rafe’s hips jerked against you, filling you with cum and then fucking it into you until all you could do was whimper at the feeling. His body went still, pressed heavy against yours, his arms trembling as they held you close.

For a long second, the room was silent but for the sound of your breathing. Then he kissed your cheek, soft this time, lingering.

“You’re not sleeping in your room anymore.” He whispered, brushing your hair off your face. “I don’t care if we’re just roommates, friends, or whatever bullshit label we gave it before. I’m taking care of you from now on.” He touched your stomach slowly this time, then looked up at you with a crooked smile. “You’re mine. Both of you.”

[captain-huggy-bear]

Whatever You Want

Series/AU: Small town AU

Pairing: Bar Owner!Michael Kesselring x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, talk about a previous partner cheating/bad break up but not with Michael with someone else.

Summary: Michael Kesselring has loved you since he was 16 years old, now your back in town all he wants is a chance but you've been burn before.

Notes: N/A

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

He's stood on your front porch (or your mother's front porch that you are currently staying at), hands in the pockets of his jeans, jacket soaked, hair plastered to his forehead in wet curls. It's pouring down with rain but he's still come all the way here, still knocked on your door at 9pm because he's got to get this off his chest...because he knows he won't be able to go to bed without doing this.

You're stood just out of your front door in your pajamas, fluffy bunny slippers on your feet and a towel on your head from where you'd gotten out of the shower. You feel like you look a mess, Michael thinks you're as pretty as you've always been. Maybe even a bit more in the glow of the porch light.

"I'll do whatever you want, just tell me what you want..." God, he just...he just wants a chance. He's been trying. Each time you come into the bar he's kind, he's sweet, he makes you laugh, makes sure no one bothers you...and he knows you like him. He can see it, but there's that hesitation there. Every time he tries you pull back, you put him on ice.

"Michael..."

"I'd eat dirt just to get a smile from you. I'd do a triathlon just to do your taxes. I'd let you key my truck so that I could just breathe the same air as you." He's so earnest with it too. Brown eyes wide and genuine. No smile. Serious face, not common to see on Michael, he's usually all goofy grins and big bold laughs. This is different. The way his lips purse, flat. How his brow furrows, shoulders pushed back, tense.

"Mikey..."

"I'd sit and let you burn me with 100 cigarettes for a look in my direction. I'd sell the bar if it meant you'd let me kiss your boots. Just...tell me what I have to do to get a chance, a single chance and I'll do it." He doesn't expect anything more. He just wants a chance, one chance and if you aren't interested after, if you don't want to ever see him again he'll be able to live with it...but he can't live with the idea that he never had a shot, never got to try. Not when he knows he makes you laugh and he knows you better than almost anyone in town. Not when you've been friends for so long, even with the gap between when you left town.

"It's not that simple..." You cross your arms over your chest, protective, like you're expecting this to hurt...and you kind of are. God, you wish it was so simple because you do like him. Michael's the only guy who's ever made you laugh so hard, who's ever made you feel quite so protected...but it's not that simple.

"Yeah, it is. I get it..." He takes an aborted step towards you, stopping when you shrink back not wanting to get in your space and upset you, but also wanting to be close to you at the same time.

"No, you don't get it, Michael! I thought he loved me!" The tears are starting and you swore you were done crying over him, you swore when you came back to town that you'd leave him in the past and just stop thinking about him entirely. Not let him get any more tears from you...and yet here you are, blubbering on your front door step to Michael.

"I thought...he was supposed to be my person, to be my safe space...I thought...my brain shut off around him, I could be myself and I never...I never considered he'd hurt me. But he did. He decided I wasn't good enough and he decided she was better. It's not as easy as just giving you a chance because I'm scared that...I'm scared you're going to turn out just like him." God, you're scared. You're scared to let Michael in. You're scared to be cheated on again. To open yourself up to someone, to offer them your heart on a silver platter just to have them take a stab at it...

Objectively you know Michael isn't like that. You know he's not, but it doesn't stop you being scared. It doesn't stop the fact you're stood on your porch crying, Michael stood in front of you soaking wet and looking at you like a kicked puppy. Like your tears are physically hurting him.

"I'm not him, baby...I'm sorry. I'm sorry he hurt you. I'm sorry he made you think that you weren't good enough or that every guy you come across is just as stupid. But I am not sorry that you're here." He's not sorry that you came back to town. He's not sorry he gets to see you again. He's not sorry that someone else's fuck up gives him a chance to try.

"Michael..." You're sniffling, wiping away the tears that had fallen, trying to collect yourself. This time when he takes a step closer you don't shy away. You let him bridge some of the distance between the two of you.

"How long have you known me?"

"Since we were 8 years old...you helped me up after one of the Tkachuk boys shoved me over." You huff out a laugh thinking about it. At the time Michael had been your hero....the lanky boy with wild hair that had been prepared to fight the Tkachuk's for you, even though they were older and bigger.

"I've been your friend since we were 8 years old...and I've loved you since we were 16." You can't help the gasp that you let out...you'd know that Michael liked you, you'd known since you returned to town that he'd been interested. You hadn't realised quite how long he'd felt that way.

"I've waited a very long time and I'll wait some more...just for a chance. I am not some random guy you met at college. I'm Mikey. I helped your grandma get her cat down from that tree 50 million times." It makes you laugh, thinking about Snuggles. The fluffy, scraggly cat that always went up the same tree and always refused to get down by himself. Michael would always scale the tree and get scratched up in the process bringing Snuggles down...only for Snuggles to decide afterwards that he quite liked Michael now he wasn't up a tree anymore.

"I ate every slice of your mom's meatloaf even though I hated it. I always let your dad force me to mow your lawn every summer even though I have hay fever and it I could barely breathe. There is not a version of me that would ever think that you are not so out of my league, like I'm beer league hockey and you're the NHL. There is not a version of me that would ever think that any other woman even compares to you...like you're the 1st Draft Pick and every other girl is undrafted, didn't even make it to college hockey..." You laugh at his hockey comparisons, the guy that was still obsessed even now, even as he'd given up his dream of being in the NHL.

He takes another step closer, close enough that Michael could touch you if he wanted to. But he doesn't. Lets you keep that personal space even if he wants to reach for you.

"I haven't dated someone since Stacey when we were 18...because I've been waiting for you, baby." You draw your head back, frowning, confused because that's not what you heard.

"No...that's not...what about Casey?" The tall, leggy, blonde with a love for horse riding had gone to school with both of you, she'd stuck around when you'd gone to college. Casey had come out to visit you a few times, not really for you, more because she wanted to see the parties and live it up a little bit.

"Casey?" He looks at you like you'd just told him he'd grown a second head.

"I thought...when she came to see me at college she said you'd hooked up..." She had said she'd had the wildest night of her life to be more accurate. She had said that her and Michael had slept together, that he'd been all over her...she'd been far too descriptive for your tastes as well.

Anger starts to fill him, not at you, never at you. But at Casey, a liar, a goddamn liar and to you...of all the people she could lie to about that of course she'd picked you. Cause Casey was a mean girl at heart and always had been. "Casey is a goddamn liar! She tried to kiss me...she was very drunk. I took her home and she threw up in my truck...took 2 days to get the smell out." He was a gentleman of course. His grandpa raised him right, so of course he took her home and made sure her brother got her into bed alright. But, he didn't kiss her, he didn't fuck her and he certainly never liked her.

"So you never..."

"I have been waiting since I was 18 just to get an ounce of your attention. I was not about to risk that for Casey Smith."

You breathe out a sigh of relief...not even sure why it would bother you. It's not like you had been dating Michael at the time, you didn't even have a crush on him at the time. Too preoccupied with your college boyfriend... but something about the idea of Michael and Casey had you feeling all sorts of wrong.

"I...I don't know, Mikey..." Still, you're not sure. Giving him a chance...it's scary. It's a big move, a big step. It's not really even been that long since you had your heart broken. A few months at most.

"Okay." He shrugs at you, simple. Not getting upset with you, no frustration or disappointment or guilt tripping. Just an 'okay'.

"Okay?"

"I've been waiting nearly 8 years. I'll just wait. When you're ready...when you think you're ready to give me a shot, let me have a chance then I'll be here...but I mean it. I'd do anything you ask to prove to you that I am not that guy. I'd rather cut off off my own hand than hurt you."

You can only stare at him like he's some sort of alien...because what sort of dream did he come out of...what sort of romance book did he get pulled from to be this patient, to be this perfect...and you were still hesitating and you hated yourself for it.

"Just...just think about it?" That's all he wants. One chance or the potential for a chance. So long as there's that he's not going to give up, he's not going to decide you're not worth it because he knows you are. He knows that you are worth every minute of his time, every moment of waiting.

"Okay, I'll think about it, Mikey..."

He lets you step back into your house. Waits until he hears the lock click before he steps back into the rain and runs to his truck. When he looks out of the driver side window towards your house, you're stood in the window watching him go...and he knows. He's got a gut feeling...that you're going to give him that chance sooner rather than later.

He's waited this long, he can wait a little bit longer.

[driedlasagna]

ok i wrote it. it doesn’t match exactly what was in my head so i can’t tell if it’s good or not so i’m posting it here (if people like it i’ll put it on ao3). don’t love how it ends but i couldn’t really think of an ending.

been enjoying everyone’s thoughts on this! here’s what i came up with :) enjoy!

•••

“That was wonderful,” Genviève says to the two dancers. Jack, next to her, nods in agreement. Nicholas tacks on a “beautiful” as he dramatically dabs at his eyes with a handkerchief.

The swapping became somewhat of a norm after the success of the first one, and while Tobias was, and has been, back in New York, he was chosen to choreograph a pas de deux for a principal from each company to be performed in both company’s end of season showcases.

Neither principal was Gabin. Tobias didn’t love that.

“Okay take ten,” Tobias says, standing up. He turns to the directors. “Are we done?”

“We have a meeting tonight,” Jack says. In response to Tobias’ groan, he says, “it’s in your contract to attend.”

“No it’s n-“ Nicholas doesn’t finish his sentence as Jack shushes him.

Jack points at Tobias. “See you tonight.” He leaves, followed by Genviève and Nicholas.

Tobias watches them, wishing he could go too, before turning back to his two dancers.

“Again.”

•

Tobias doesn’t understand why this meeting is taking place at a club, even if they’re in a slightly more quiet, secluded place. He’s happy enough to let everyone else talk about this year’s swap and the upcoming final shows while he… well, he’s not really listening but they don’t need to know that.

“So,” Genviève says, turning to Tobias, “how long have you and Gabin been engaged?”

Tobias blinks, his mind suddenly empty, which doesn’t happen often. “What?”

“Your dance,” Genviève says, “it’s telling the story of a couple getting married, no? I usually pride myself on being able to tell what the storyline of any ballet is.”

Tobias looks at his coworkers, who also look confused.

Genviève scoffs at the silence. “I know I’m all the way in Paris but did no one think to share the going ons of the MBT with me?”

“This hasn’t been shared with the MBT,” Jack says. He turns to Tobias. “Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Engaged, Tobias.”

“No? I’m not.”

“Do you want to be?” Nicholas asks.

There’s a pause, then Tobias stands up, puts his headphones on, sharply turns, and walks away.

•

Tobias busts into his apartment in a flurry, trying to take off his jacket and shoes simultaneously and nearly falling on his face in the process.

He eventually succeeds and then marches into the living room and turns on the big light before flinching and turning it off immediately. This wakes up Gabin, who was on the couch.

“Quoi-?” Gabin sits up, rubbing his eyes.

Tobias turns on the floor lamp instead and moves to stand in front of Gabin.

“What time is it?” Gabin yawns. “I’m sorry, I tried to stay up but-“

“Something has been brought to my attention,” Tobias interrupts.

Gabin looks up at the choreographer, silently waiting for him to continue.

“My new piece.”

“The pas de deux?”

“Yes.”

“What about it? I thought the run through today went well.”

“It did.”

“Good, I know you were worried that the soloists that were chosen wouldn’t be as good as me, but-“ Gabin yelps as he’s yanked up off the couch and pulled into a kiss, not unlike their first one.

Tobias pulls back too soon for Gabin’s liking. “Did you know?”

Gabin can’t process what’s going on. He’s fluent in Tobias, especially after these few years, but this is different. And confusing. “Know what?”

“What the dance is about? The storyline.”

Gabin thinks for a second before shaking his head. “You always used noises to describe it- do you know what it’s about?”

“I do now.”

“Please enlighten me.”

“It’s come to my attention that I want to marry you.”

Gabin stares at Tobias, speechless. This is not normal for him, but it’s happening a lot tonight. A few seconds go by before Tobias speaks again.

“The dance. I didn’t realize it, but it’s about us. About how I feel. My love for you. That’s why I could never use words to describe it. I speak through choreography, it’s always been a way for me to process my feelings, but usually I’m aware of what those feelings are. I knew this dance was about love, but I didn’t understand the extent.”

Gabin, to his own annoyance, takes another second to respond. “What are you saying?”

Tobias runs a hand through his hair impatiently. “I already said- Gabin, I want to marry you.”

“You’re proposing?”

“Yes.”

Gabin pauses, this time for dramatic effect. “I always thought it’d be more romantic,” he teases.

“Gabin.” There’s an exasperated smile forming on Tobias’ face, and Gabin feels one of his own form.

“You want to marry me? Then marry me, Top Gun.”

“I don’t have a ring-“

Gabin shuts Tobias up with a kiss, this one rivaling that of their first.

i feel like tobias would eventually create a piece without thinking about what it really represents and this conversation would happen:

a dancer or someone: are you and gabin engaged?

tobias: what? no

dancer: your piece is telling the story of a couple getting married, no? or am i reading into it wrong

and tobias would just be like oh shit and that’s how he realizes he wants to marry gabin idk

[leviitome]

2 — Mishaps | Suguru Geto

AO3 / Masterlist / Moodboard

Wordcount: 2.8k

EDITED | ONGOING

cw: 18+, against the wall type beat, no condom, semi-public, teasing, etc.

Minors DNI.

Newly promoted and chronically late, you unknowingly take the last elevator available to only the highest-ranking executives and apparently, it's him. Suguru Geto. Who promises himself to give you, your exhausted, frustrated self, some type of relief every time you take his elevator.

You guess it’s just some sort of unspoken rule that no one else is allowed to be on the fourth elevator except for him. You don’t know why and you don’t know why you like that idea either. 

The thought lingers and follows you home, crawling under your skin as you reheat your dinner and pretend to pay attention to the television news in front of you. It lingers while you brush your teeth, staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror, trying to make sense of the flush that creeps up your neck every time you replay the way his mouth felt against your throat. 

You sleep terribly. Every time you close your eyes, you feel the weight of his hand on your waist, the low rumble of his voice reverberating against your ears sending shivers up your spine. You wake up three times, each time more frustrated than the last, you couldn’t believe you were losing sleep over this. Over him. You finally gave up after the third time, 5:47 a.m. and drag yourself into the shower. 

This morning, you’re early. Deliberately, the overcompensation-sorry-for-what-happened-yesterday-at-the-meeting early. 

You stand in front of the closet longer than needed, eyes darting to the same striped shirt slumped freely on the laundry basket. You finally settled on a black silk blouse. It’s form fitting, enough to accentuate your body in the best way, but also formal enough to not get you flagged or fired. You slip on your tights and a pencil skirt and you’re out the door by 6:30. 

The coffee shop down your apartment complex is nearly empty when you arrive, just you and a handful of other early risers clutching their cups with nothing but hollow soulless looks in their eyes. You order your usual and find yourself checking your watch obsessively. 

7:15, 7:18, 7:23..

You’re buying time, and you know it. 

The building lobby is quieter at this hour, your heels echoing differently against the marble. The elevator bank comes into view and your chest tightens involuntarily. All four elevators are waiting, doors shutting and opening. 

Elevator 4 sits empty on the far right. 

You stare at it for a moment longer than you should, remembering the way he’d stepped closer, the deliberate and calculated press of his body that had left you breathless and wanting more. Your fingers tighten around your bag. 

Then you turn left and step into elevator 2. 

The doors slide shut with a soft hiss, and you exhale for what feels like the first time all morning. The ride up is smooth, predictable, filled with the gentle hum of the machinery and the dings signifying each floor passed. There’s no dark hair falling loose around faces here, no low voices, no pair of eyes doing multiple once overs. 

Floor 63 approaches too quickly. 

You spend the morning throwing yourself into work with an intensity that borders on manic. You sent the draft from last night and follow through with emails, reports, client calls, anything to keep your mind occupied. But every time you hear the elevator ding somewhere down the hall, your attention averts. Every time you hear male voices in the corridor, your pulse quickens before you can stop it. 

It’s pathetic, really. 

Around 10:30, Sarah from HR stops by your office. She’s young, maybe twenty-five, with perfectly straightened hair and the kind of eager grin that suggests she hasn’t been here long enough to endure the long work hours and develop the appropriate level of corporate cynicism. 

“Settling in okay?” she asks, perching on the edge of the chair across from your desk, cautious not to touch anything. 

You nod, shuffling papers without so much as taking a glance at her. “Yeah, great up here. It’s quiet.” 

“Oh that’s good. Sometimes the transition to the upper floors can be… intense.” she leans forward, anticipating gossip. “Especially with all the executives around. They can be intimidating.” 

Something in her tone makes you look up. “Intimidating how?” 

Sarah glances toward your door, then back to you. “Well, take Suguru Geto, for example. Senior Exec, practically unheard of, but he’s here. I mean, the man has his own elevator.” 

Your coffee suddenly tastes bitter. “His own elevator?” 

“Elevator 4,” Sarah confirms, settling more comfortably. “I heard it’s been that way for years. It started as a joke – something about him feeling or being too important to wait with the rest of us, but now it’s just… accepted. Nobody else uses it unless they want to deal with him.” 

“Deal with him how?” 

Sarah’s breath stops for a second before continuing, like she’s said too much. “Oh, I don’t mean anything bad! He’s just… weird. Very focused and intense. Doesn’t really do small talk, you know? Most people find it easier to avoid him altogether.” 

You think he’s just being classist. 

He’s probably being classist.

“Why? Did you run into him or something?” 

The question hangs in the air, and you can feel her anticipation rising. You turn it down, “Just curious,” you manage. “New floor and all.” 

Sarah nods, but there’s something knowing in her expression that makes you uncomfortable. “Well, just a heads up – if you ever need to use that elevator for some reason, make sure you’re prepared for… an experience.” 

After she leaves, you can’t concentrate on anything. Experience, own elevator, a closeted classist. 

Lunch comes and goes. You eat a salad while scrolling through emails, but your mind keeps wandering. You find yourself wondering what other unspoken rules exist, it irks you enough, you’ve been here long enough to know everything in this place but you don’t. 

The afternoon crawls by, you attend another pointless meeting, you review contracts that blur together, and respond to messages like some robot. Every completed task is just another step closer to the end of the day, and the decision you know you’re going to make. 

Because somewhere in there, you know you want to see him again, somewhere through Sarah’s gossip and your own clouding thoughts. You know you want to, and you don’t care enough to fight back the urge. 

By 6:45, the floor has mostly emptied. The familiar quiet settles around you as you shut off your computer and grab your belongings. 

You slip on your heels, adjust your blazer, and walk toward the elevator bank. 

The corridor stretches ahead of you, polished and gleaming under the lights. Your reflection moves alongside you in the glass walls. Your heart pounds with anticipation. 

Elevators 1, 2, and 3, have been called to other floors. But elevator 4 waits, doors closed. 

You stop in front of it, your finger hovering over the down button as you finally press it. This is your moment of choice. You could still walk away, wait for another elevator. Pretend yesterday never happened. But you stayed and waited. 

The doors slide open not even thirty seconds later, and there he is. 

Suguru Geto leans in the back corner, but something about him is different tonight. His suit jacket was gone and draped over his shoulder, leaving him in the same white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, again. His tie loosened, the top button of his shirt undone.

His eyes meet yours as you step inside, and there’s something there that wasn’t there before. Recognition. Satisfaction. 

“Back for more?” he asks, his voice carrying a hint of amusement that makes your stomach flutter. 

You let the doors close behind you before you respond. “I work here,” you say, but this time there’s no coldness to it. Just a fact. 

“So you do.” he shifts slightly, angling his body toward you. “Though I noticed you avoided this elevator this morning.” 

Heat flashes through your face. “You noticed?” 

“I notice a lot of things.” his gaze drops to your mouth for just a moment. “Especially when they involve you making interesting choices.” 

The elevator stays still on the 63rd floor. 

“What kind of choices?” you ask, surprised by how steady and unnerving your voice sounds. 

He takes a step closer, and suddenly the space between you two shrinks. You don’t retreat, you hold your ground and meet his gaze entirely. 

“The kind that makes me wonder,” he murmurs, reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from your face, “if you’ve been thinking about yesterday as much as I have.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “And if I have?” 

His smile, slow and creeping. “Then I’d say we have a problem.” 

“What kind of problem?” 

“The kind where I’m trying very hard to maintain some semblance of professionalism,” he says, his hand sliding from your face to rest against the elevator railings near your waist. Trapping you. “And you’re making it very difficult.” 

“I don’t care,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, “this is the last thing on my mind.” 

You lie. 

He sees right through it. 

Something in his expression shifts, surprise, hunger. His hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing across your cheekbones. 

“Careful,” he warns, no real threat. “You chose this elevator for a reason.” 

You don’t deny it. 

His thumb traces along your bottom lip, and you part them instinctively. The small action instantly made his lips twitch, suddenly the control he’s been maintaining cracks. 

“Fuck,” he sighs, and within seconds his mouth is on yours. 

The kiss is nothing like the teasing touches from yesterday. It’s hungry, desperate, months of stolen glances finally boiling over. His hand tangles in your hair while the other presses against the small of your back, closing the proximity between you two. 

Your hands find the fabric of his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric as you kiss him back with equal fervor. 

He breaks away to trail his mouth down to your neck, finding that spot just below your ear that makes you gasp. “Is this what you want?” he whispers between his kisses. “When you choose my elevator?” 

You nod in response, not wasting a breath. The admission makes him groan. 

His hand slides down to your hips, gripping tight as he presses you back against the wall. The cool metal is a stark contrast to the heat of his body and you arch into him. 

“Tell me to stop,” he says, but his mouth continues to paint suckles and kisses down your neck. “Tell me we shouldn’t be doing this.” 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you manage, but you let him continue anyway. 

He pulls back to look at you, eyes half-lidded. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve thought about this? What you’ve done to me? Every time I see you, during those conferences, I don’t think about anything else." His voice is rough, “The moment I saw you on the elevator, my elevator, God.” he murmurs breathlessly. 

Before you can respond, his mouth is on you again, hungrier this time. His hands roam your body with increasing boldness - tracing the curve of your waist, skimming along the mounds of your breaths making you shiver with anticipation. 

The elevator is still stuck on floor 63, you don’t know who’s coming, but you don’t do anything. 

He takes in your pencil skirt and raises it above your hips, he admires the view of your tights sticking to your inner thighs. You’re already wet and aching. He pulls it down along with your underwear and stares for a moment. 

You looked away bashfully, he noticed your apprehension and placed a gentle kiss on your temple. 

“Beautiful.” 

With that, he hauls you up, holding you against the elevator wall, you’re sitting on nothing but a railing, trusting him that you won’t slip and fall on the floor. 

His hands roam all over you, unbuttoning your silk blouse, you helped him, your blouse showing a languid view of your chest as it heaved and fell. 

Your hand moved to his belt, your fingers unbuckling it, eyes locked into his. Geto’s breath hitches as his hands moved to his pants, pushing them down, revealing the bulging of his cock underneath his boxers. You both could feel each other's desire, he knew both of you should stop, that this could potentially ruin your reputations, but you couldn’t resist the temptation between you two. 

Geto’s hand moved from the silk blouse to your back, unhooking your bra in a quick motion. The garment popped open, leaving you bare to him. You gasped as his hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing and massaging against your nipples. You could feel his tease, the intensity of the gaze as he stared at them with nothing but desire. 

You let out a soft moan, your head falling back as Suguru’s lips captured one of the buds. His hands moved to your hips, effortlessly lifting you up even more. You could feel him, hard and ready, as he positioned himself between your legs. 

“Geto,” you groaned. 

“Lose the formality,” he says between your chest. You’re taken aback, but you agree momentarily. 

His hands moved to your thighs, spreading them, pulling his boxers down right after. 

Your hands gripped his shoulders, your body aching for more as he entered inside of you, filling you completely. The elevator hummed softly, you bet it won’t be long until the cleaning crew showed up, but that didn’t matter right now, neither of you noticed or even tried to care. 

Your bodies moved in sync, breaths mingling, emotions intertwining as you struggled to maintain control. The heat between you two was palpable, your bodies slick with sweat and heart pounding. 

Suguru’s hands moved to your hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he thrusts faster into you, body slamming against yours cravingly. 

Your quiet moans and whimpers filled the elevator, your body trembling as you reached your peak, your orgasm chasing, waiting to crash over you violently. You’ve been wanting this, for so long, you didn’t know how much your body yearned, so you let it. You let it happen. 

“Suguru–,” you fight back your moans, grabbing onto his shoulders for dear life. 

“Needed you,” he says in between breaths. “Needed this so bad you have no idea.” 

Everything felt overwhelming, the sound of skin to skin, the close proximity, it was pure and utter bliss. Your eyes go blurry from the immense pleasure. Suguru could see it, he could see how good he made you feel, how with each and every thrust you fight back a moan, biting your lip so that it wouldn’t escape. He didn’t like it, he wanted to hear you, he wondered how vocal you would be in bed with him, how you could curse and scream his name so loud without a care in the world. 

He doesn’t stop these thoughts, but thinks of ways to finally get you to fully, and loudly, express yourself without being restricted. 

With one continuous thrust you finally moan under his neck, your mind hazy as your pussy coaxes around him. Suguru followed soon after, his body shuddering, his release filling you completely. 

You remained like that for a moment, bodies entwined, your breaths slowly returning to normal. Suguru grabs a hold of your hand and nestles his face into it, planting a soft kiss before he drops you on your feet, gently. 

 You put the rest of your clothes back and onto your body, he does the same. The silence that follows is different from before, not charged with anticipation, but heavy with the weight of what just happened. 

You press on the elevator button to go to the ground floor. You clear your throat and smooth down your skirt, tuck your blouse back in properly, trying to erase the evidence of the encounter. 

The elevator dings softly a couple minutes later. Ground floor. 

Reality crashes back in waves. The lobby. Security cameras. Coworkers who might still be around. The reality waiting just beyond this elevator. 

The elevator door slides open, “I should go.” you say begrudgingly, but you don’t move. 

“Yeah,” he agrees, but he grabs a hold of your wrist, gently. His thumb brushes against the back of your hand and you wonder if he can hear how fast your heart is beating. 

You both step out together, and the elevator doors close behind you. 

“Tomorrow,” he says. 

You nod, both of you commencing to go in opposite directions. 

He pauses, turning back mid-walk. “For what it’s worth,” almost yelling, you quickly turned around to place a finger on your mouth to shush him. 

He grins sheepishly, placing his hands beside his head to signal a surrender, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” he waves goodbye, before putting on his suit jacket and watching you get to your car. 

You couldn’t believe it. Heat is still rising through your cheeks as you think about it on your drive back. 

You just fucked your boss. 

[thetelesterion]

Hiii, I'm new to helpol. What are the guidelines around prayer? I know you're supposed to wash your hands first, so I always do, but are there other things I'm supposed to do? I'm coming from a Christian upbringing where the sentiment was very "you could pray while taking a shit and God wouldn't mind it"

Hello anon!

I'm no scholar or expert on anything related to Hellenic Polytheism but I will do my best to answer this, as well as give examples from my own practices.

So, while there are no strict "guidelines" on how to pray, we have ancient sources which help us understand how the ancient Greeks would have prayed and worshipped.

Firstly, like you pointed out, washing one's hands was essential. I'm not gonna get into the whole "miasma" thing, as there are others who cover that far more gracefully and informatively than I ever could. Ordinary water is fine for this.

Secondly, there is the structure of prayer. The basic components of a prayer are:

1. Invocation (Calling upon the god/gods, usually with their epithets and titles)

2. Argument (Basically saying why the god/gods should listen to your prayer)

3. The Petition (This is where you ask the gods for any requests, favors, or anything else you're praying to them for)

"Casual" prayers are also historically attested and don't always follow this structure. Essentially, you can pray to the gods whenever you wish, but personally I like to follow a basic structure like that when I pray in front of my altar at home. But, in short, formal prayers are not the only acceptable prayers.

I will give a link to this wonderfully detailed post by @ olympianbutch that covers the structure of prayer in a lot more depth!

Finally, on the topic of gestures and postures made during prayer, there are a few that we know of historically. There is the "orans" posture involves the raising of both arms towards the heavens, and is meant for prayers and rituals involving the Ouranic, or heavenly gods. For Khthonic/Underworld deities, a worshipper would bow low to the ground or fully prostrate, and yell into the earth so the gods below would hear them.

Now... that last one obviously is tricky in most modern settings, and I usually don't do the yelling bit myself. But I do a mixture of both postures since I have several Ouranic and Khthonic deities on my altar.

When it comes to saying silent prayers or saying prayers out loud, I do a mix of both. Sometimes, I don't feel the energy to say anything out loud, and I sit in front of my altar and let the smell of my incense fill the air. It puts me in a good state of mind, and helps me focus on the gods.

Overall, if you take any of this advice and incorporate it into your own practices, always be sure to avoid pushing yourself. Do what you're able to do. The Theoi see and appreciate all the effort we give, even if we think we're not doing enough. And keep learning! Keep digging, keep reading, and keep asking. There's always something to learn.

[everwhovian]

TRAILER

Nuh uh.... I just woke up and you spring that one me?

Okay, buckle up, I will go through the trailer scene by scene

"Why didn't you kill me?" ASKING THE RIGHT QUESTIONS GI-HUN OMG but please stop provoking them! I want you to get out of this season ALIVE please

Nooo Dae-ho! Him closing his eyes when the guards hold Gi-hun down.... I feel so bad for him 😭

Okay we have Gi-hun yelling and crying out why they kept him alive AND THE NEXT SCENE IS IN-HO?!

Same scene from the teaser, In-ho looks like he's crying sooooo.... is he almost crying cause Gi-hun is still fighting? Or am I delulu? Probably... they know exactly what they're doing with Inhun content

Okay team blue! I immediately found Dae-ho in the group shot... I am scared

The ceiling is pretty though. Are those glow-in-the-dark stars.... like the ones in In-ho’s apartment?! That's just rude!

This focus on Myung-gi... I know they said that he will have some character development... and I really hope it's because of Jun-hee and the baby!

Who is this 203 guy...

Hyun-ju.... bloody.... She looks badass and I love her omg but the blood across her face?! Asdfghjkl

If she dies it's a hate crime! Especially during pride month!

OKAY IT'S REALLY A LABYRINTH!

And Seon-nyeo is trying to find the right way through vibes

Another voting!!!

Damn the next scenes are happening so fast

Okay so we got the two dolls, we got a signal and tracks leading over a narrow bridge... and then the rope skipping

Is that like red light green light? You're only allowed to move while the light is green?! And then you can be swept off the bridge cause you're not allowed to move during red light?!

Oh god... all those bodies on the ground 😭

Gi-hun... stop... also covered in blood... omg...

LJJ looks too good

And that 202 guy again omg DO NOT HURT GI-HUN

Okay they're going up the stairs and one person stops to hold the rail... it's like a millisecond!

In-ho as the Front Man focusing on Gi-hun yet again! Always watching him

Geum-ja 😭😭 yes please put a stop to all of this 😭😭

Triangle guard pointing a gun at.... Gi-hun?! Cause he's not playing? Just wandering through the maze?

Ewww VIPs

Eating while watching the games... didn't expect anything else... but eww

Hyun-ju!!

And player 226... had to look up his name (Yeong-sam) but he was one of the idiots who convinced everyone to play another game with player 100

DO THEY HAVE TO FIGHT?! OMG!

JUN-HEE DON'T JUST SIT THERE OMG

Yes, Myung-gi tell her!! I love that he finally wakes up to protect her... (I am still mad about Young-mi)

Gi-hun.... are you crazy... do not provoke the guards omg... that's why they hold him down!

JUN-HO

Is he in In-ho’s quarters? Or the VIPs? GIMME MORE OF JUN-HO

Okay so there are doors and the players think they can get out just for them to be closed? Is that game the 5th game? To weed out everyone for the final game?

Yong-sik and Geum-ja 😭😭

I will cry... whatever outcome we'll get...

Dae-ho... DAE-HO?!

No.... please... I love him... is he gonna jump?! 😭😭

Just please don't be pushed

And Seon-nyeo.... crazy lady... laughing at Gi-hun?!

HOLY FUCKING SHIT GI-HUN OMG

Choking Seon-nyeo shouldn't look so hot omg

and then having the guard count down? Diabolical

Min-su... cornered, crying

Hyun-ju opening a door?! Dunno why my mind got so excited about that... but okay so in the maze they can open doors and some lead to a dead-end like Dae-ho's door... also the maze has multiple floors...

Nam-gyu all the way up and then looking down... not the best idea...

And Dae-ho, my boy! I am so scared... what is he up to... he's walking with this strange determined look on his face... what is happening...

Na-eul!! Missed you!! Also just for a second in the trailer but I'll take what I get...

GI-HUN IN THE SUIT AGAIN OMG!

WAIT THAT ELEVATOR LEADS TO IN-HO QUARTERS OR TO THE VIPS WHAT IS HAPPENING

He still votes x

In-ho?! Is that the reveal we're all craving?!

Slowly taking off his mask, not meeting Gi-hun's eyes at first... omg... "do you still have faith in people?"

Will In-ho try to recruit Gi-hun?!

And is that Gi-hun AFTER the reveal, walking back?! The look in his eyes... I can't

Okay that was the trailer... I am not okay... but... have you seen the stills?!

In-ho, player 132... is that Il-nam trying to recruit In-ho? WILL IN-HO TRY THE SAME THING OMG WHAT?!

but we will have a flashback!! Hell yes!!

And baby Jun-ho! He looks so young omg... so definitely a flashback to 2015

And we got a still of Gyeong-seok! Na-eul saved him! Definitely!

And the still of Na-eul! Is that in the organ trafficking room?!

Okay so my mind is all over the place and asdfghjkl

[ofmermaidstories]

this is what i want out of the year i turn 49:

im living on the coast. i don’t care which coast, or where, but from the house you can see the beach, over the pine trees. the house is renovated; it was an absolute pain to do and for like, three years prior, maybe, most of the bathrooms in it were half-finished. but it’s not a problem now, they’re all done, they’re all pretty, there’s bright tiled showers that glimmer like the inside of sea-shells in the low light and a claw-foot bathroom in at least one of them. the hardwood floors throughout the house have been restored—the former owners for some unfathomable reason carpeted the upper floors. don’t worry, we get rid of that, it’s literally the first reno that happens. there’s a wrap around porch, it’s magnificent, there’s a loveseat out the front where i sit in at dusk to admire the fat roses someone else gardens for me (i am not a gardener, i kill things). when the lights are on inside it makes bathes the house in a golden puddle of light and makes it stand out like an island in the dark quiet of the neighbourhood. i live there with someone i love (i don’t care who, i just have to like them). it’s the evening before i make the drive the next day to the nearest major city, to pick up my best friends and their kids from the airport. they’re going to be spending the entire summer season—the past few weeks have been a chaotic rush of organising the spare rooms, deep cleaning the house. the kids are going in the attic, (it’s reno’d, there’s bookshelves, a little portal window that they keep open throughout the whole summer, fascinated). their parents have the room down the hall; they have their own bathroom. there’s fresh flowers throughout the entire house. i also have an impressive quilt collection i’ve thrifted (or bought from local artists, new), since living in the house; every bed gets their own. the dog is very excited for new friends (they become fast friends with the kids for the summer, and disappear routinely, down to the beach or walking through the neighbourhood together). when i pick the besties up from the airport we scream, and everyone piles into the car in a noisey, impatient jumble of talking over each other. i point out all my new local spots, when we get into town; the good bakery, the bad bakery, the pasta place The Person That I Love and I go to every thursday. when i pull into the driveway of my house my besties make appreciative noises (i told them to, the renos were a pain in the ass). they get the grand tour. everyone gets settled into their rooms and downstairs dinner gets started: the grill is on, there’s a mango salsa waiting in the fridge, cold drinks and a cake. that night everyone stays up late (the youngest kid passes out on the couch, The Person That I love nods off in their seat. Bestie’s husband goes to bed and Bestie and I stay up talking about everything and anything). The next day the sunlight warms the floorboards of the living room as breakfast is started. we have the whole summer together, and while eventually everyone will settle into their own routines and diverge (the kids explore nearby, make summer-time friends with a kid or two from the town that they meet at the beach, bestie and bestie’s husband eventually go on their own little dates, The Person That I love and I get to have a day or two to recharge) so many of our mornings during this vacation start the same way: passing plates over each others heads, someone standing at the coffee machine, waiting for it to drip. me complaining about the Bad Bakery as one of the kids bites into bread from the Good Bakery.

(it’s the best summer of my entire life, and i can’t wait for it.)

[saras-almanac]

2023 - October-December - In October, Aaron returns to the village after being kidnapped by Cain and his new uncle Caleb for getting involved with the Italian mafia. Aaron is still fuming at Chas for what she did to Paddy--despite everyone knowing now and Al being dead--and that he still blames Chas for Liv's death, Aaron takes it out on everyone in the village: bullying Vinny, threatening and beating up Billy, and actually sleeping with Ethan (the vicar Charles's son) just to humiliate Ethan in front of everyone to get back at Charles and Chas for scolding him. Things come to a head when Chas finally tells Aaron off and says that until he's better in control of himself, the entire family--her, Paddy, and Eve--want nothing to do with them. Though still a little off, they do all make up around Christmas. More details under the cut (NOTE: These bullet lists are just my memories so things are not going to be word-perfect)

Holy shit was this hard to sit through--and that's coming from a Robert girlie. But Aaron actively sucks in this storyline. I think they were trying to go for depth--he's grieving Robert still and definitely Liv and blaming Chas for her death--but it's all just a bit over-the-top for me. It's just constant circles with Aaron and Chas were Chas tells him he's being awful and Aaron tells her she's the worst. I actually think there could have been something really interesting here if they'd let Aaron go a little deeper with his emotions, but as they didn't know what else to do with him, they just brought him back furious at everyone and everything and then just... did nothing with it. (Though we still have an entire year and fauxbert to go so...)

Also the weirdest thing.... I actually liked Paddy in these few months of 2023... I feel insane. He actually was a voice of reason and was trying his best to actually be there for Aaron and for Chas and just generally didn't annoy me. (Which should speak volumes for how annoying Chas and Aaron were)

Aaron turns up locked up in a room on Wylie's farm to the shock of Moira -- Turns out Aaron stole from the Italian mafia and cause Cain's Cain (I guess) he found out and so him and Caleb (new / old half-brother) go and kidnap Aaron to force him to hideout. Though Aaron claims it's a setup, they find the money in his bag which they then use as ransom to get Chas back from other mob people? (Honestly, super lost the plot on this one)

A still furious Aaron gets Vinny to get him out the room and hunts Cain down for the money, even threatening to run him over and let his mother be killed rather than stick around in the village and loose his money (Honestly... this parallel to early Robert could have also been interesting but it's all just so one-note and flat.)

Meeting up with Paddy--who's now with Mandy--and his little sister Eve, Aaron decides to stick around the village but continues to rage against everyone

Aaron threatens Cain to give him back his 30k or he will ruin his life

Aaron calls Chas ever name in the book (which was entertaining the first time but after a while, the fun really got taken out) -- Aaron literally tells her she should have never been a mother and Chas retaliates that she might not have had kids if she'd known he was be such a monster

Aaron starts bullying and threatening Vinny--who now mostly owns the scrapyard and the Mill--demanding money. When Vinny stands up for himself, Aaron lashes out at him and physically attacks him. Mandy finds out and goes to confront Aaron, telling him off and setting him straight (which was honestly the highlight of the season for me. Mandy is similar to Chas in always wanting to protect her son and maybe goes a little above than she should, but as soon as Vinny comes and finds out he sets up a firm boundary which was really refreshing to see) and the two eventually sort things out and come to amends

Aaron's next target is Billy -- his bully from prison that we learned of in 2018 I think?? The two have mostly just kept to themselves but Billy is trying to steer clear of Aaron who is desperate for anyone to fight back at him. Billy tries to find common ground about how he's turned his life around with his kids after prison by not being angry at everyone and everything and Aaron could do it to if he actually wanted to put in the effort

Things get heated between them when they're at the playground with the kids and Billy's son (I wanna say Theo? I honestly have no idea) accidentally his Eve (Aaron's little sister) when they're playing and Aaron immediately jumps on this 5-6 year old kid

Dawn -- who's married to Billy currently -- tells Billy to just not rise to the bait and he does try that until Aaron corners him in the shop and starts threatening and berating him for being weak in front of his kids and how his kids won't be proud of him, resulting in a few punches thrown between them.

When they see each other at the pub again a few days later, Aaron makes fun of the bruises on Billy's face, which Billy lands some incredible hits in with saying that he feels sorry for Aaron because he has absolutely no one in his life, no friends or family, and is going to stay this bitter lonely person

SIDE NOTE: Robert mention from Victoria at a certain point who seems to be the only person actually speaking to Aaron besides Eve and Paddy at this point. She's dating Jacob -- which WTF was this choice--and that's apparently AFTER she was David (Jacob's dad) which on the one hand, awful since Jacob was literally in a grooming storyline years ago and I know he's a young man now but like, no thank you. But also hilarious that all Sugdens just follow family trees lol. ANYWAYS -- she's saying she really loves Jacob and Aaron tells if she feels like that than wait for him, which leads to her mentioning that Robert's doing okay, which Aaron immediately brushes off

But we can't have nice things for long, so Aaron is immediately back at Chas for everything, calling her a slag and slapper to her face in front of the vicar Charles because she didn't have her phone to answer a call from the school that Eve was sick and needed to come home. He accuses her of always abandoning her kids for a man, which Charles takes offense to and tells Aaron to apologize

Instead of apologizing, Aaron goes to find Charles's son Ethan and convinces him to hook up with him for company. Ethan has a good time and was interested in maybe seeing more of Aaron, only for Aaron to turn up at the Woolpack and make fun of Ethan in front of everyone for being horrible in bed and pathetic -- all to get back at Charles for daring to tell Aaron he should maybe mind his tone a bit?

That's sort of the last straw for Chas and Paddy and Aaron's anger. Chas goes to talk to Aaron and tells him that they're all done with him and he's not allowed to see Eve any more either, which is the first thing to sort of get through to him

In true Emmerdale fashion, nothing really gets fixed through actual effort, but rather quickly brushed under the rug when Aaron freaks out that she might have been involved in a shooting and rushes to the police station to find out anything he can. They sort of reunite, but it's still pretty clearly things are not great between them

Sam ends up beating up the guy who raped Lydia -- this is the who-dun-it / Soap week special for this year. I think it's an interesting concept, but it was literally all the Dingles sat around at the pub giving their alibis and as the #1 Dingle hater, I hated it cause I don't give a shit about most of the Dingles to be honest. Lydia was incredibly disappointed, but Aaron was at the forefront of just trying to get everyone to go and beat this guy up

Charity and Mack are in a relationship, which is what ends up causing whatever situation Chas was involved in -- This leads to Mack losing his newborn son when the kid's mother takes him away to protect him from Charity. Seems like Mack and Charity are married, likely having problems, and Mack's kid is from an affair / one-night stand situation.

Oh and Kyle shot Al when he saw Al and Cain fighting, but Cain took the blame for it, though having a loaded weapon around is on the adults I would say

And that's what you missed on Aaron's storyline in 2023. 2024 will likely be multiple parts because it's potentially a lot since it's a full year, but maybe not lol

And that's what you missed for Aaron's storyline in October-December. Gonna work on just Aaron from 2024 but my god am I already tired and bored of the Dingles. Might start watching 2024 stuff cause I am desperate for literally anything other than the Dingles. But that is also about 300 episodes just for that year... so maybe I'll start with 2025 watching fully episodes. I don't know. but since 2022 and 2023 were brief visits and three months all together, that was all right to get through. We'll see

Aaron Dingle - Emmerdale Catch Up Post

In case people wanted to know what this mess was like and don't want to invest in watching through previous seasons / youtube clips, I figured I'd do a quick run down for everyone. (I have been just watching Aaron clips but when I get caught up here, I'm planning on going back and watching actual episodes just because I have no idea what's happening in this village and unfortunately for me, my favorite characters are hardly ever featured in Aaron storylines)

2022 - October - Aaron returns for a short stint in time to make up with Liv for running out on her when she was up for a murder charge, spend some time with his Gran Faith before she passed away, become furious with Chas for cheating on Paddy, and then to say goodbye to Liv when she dies after a fatal accident in the brutal storm that swept through the village. More details under the cut

Aaron returns back to Emmerdale after an undisclosed amount of time away, surprising his little sister Liv who he ran off on when she was facing a potential murder charge for the death of Kayak Boy Ben.

Vinny and Liv, now married and living in the Mill convince Aaron to stick around--even inviting his Italian boyfriend Marco to move in too, but those plans are immediately thwarted when Aaron finds out Chas is having an affair with Al--the man who was trying buy all the property around and generally harassing the villagers from what I remember. (Pot meet kettle there, Chas)

Aaron is especially furious that Chas would cheat on Paddy AGAIN while they're married and have little Eve at home -- not to mention the fact that Al is in a relationship with Kerry and even gets engaged to her -- so he demands Chas never see Al again or come clean to Paddy

Chas has been run ragged taking care of Faith who has been diagnosed with terminal cancer. (Though Paddy has also been there helping with the pub, Faith, Chas, Eve, and everything else) Chas claims to Aaron that she started with Al because she needed a release or distraction. After witnessing a terrible episode with Faith and seeing how much stress Chas is under, Aaron agrees to keep quiet from Paddy but demands Chas stop seeing Al

Though she agrees to stop seeing Al, Chas does not (again, pot meet kettle) since the two have a plan to run away together, unbeknownst to everyone else in the village.

Aaron catches them together again and he becomes so furious he decides to leave Emmerdale, telling Liv that she has her own life and he needs to find his own, upsetting Liv again

Though they briefly make up and make plans for Vinny and Liv to go and visit Aaron and Marco in Italy, Liv is killed shortly after when she goes out into the storm and is run over by an unsecured caravan (literally who is doing it like this lol) -- which Liv only leaves the Mill in order to go and watch Eve in the pub when they find out that Chas was taken to the hospital

When Aaron finds out that Chas was with Al and that's why she was hurt and why Liv went out into the storm, Aaron lashes out at Chas and decides to leave the village entirely, unable to spend another minute there with Chas

They have a joint funeral and memorial for Liv and Faith--who had taken her own life only a few days before on holiday with her family rather than wait for the end of her life from the cancer. And after the funeral, Aaron leaves Emmedale behind for "good"

[thoughtfulfelony]

ok I'm just gonna elaborate on my opinion that the remake of "Cloudy…with a chance of murder" is The Most Evil And Fucked Up Thing Psych Creators Could Ever Do Because Of The Bike Scene Removal y'all remember the "I've been thinking about getting a car" speech right. But let's take a step back and talk about the bike.

The bike symbolizes Shawn's freedom, independence, and in the "Cloudy…" it is implicitly taken by his own father ( which I'm letting go. for now), and in the end a bunch of people prepared to get it back for Shawn, but who gets there first? Lassiter. And it would be SO easy to play it off by having Lassie say something like "I got you your bike back so you could drive the fuck away from my police station", or "you helped me out before so I feel obligated to repay you, now we're even", but no. Lassie's reaction is genuine embarrassment when people found out he got the bike, because it was purely a nice gesture. A nice gesture for Shawn, whom he "hates". So what I'm saying is. metaphorically. Lassiter gives Shawn back all the independence and freedom, because despite all Shawn's antics, he sees him and accepts him for who he is, with all his bullshit, doesn't fall for his lies and literally embraces the deception and rolls with it for eight more seasons, with occasional Gotta Call Him On His Bullshit To Keep Him In Shape. This scene encapsulates the progress of the dynamic between Lassie and Shawn and it's the foundation for their future relationship, where they know they can trust and rely on each other, despite everything. So again, removing it in the remake was a literal crime against humanity and me specifically because it basically erases part of Lassie's character

[wildstar25]

MiqoMarch Day 20 - Memory

Rare is it to see you so shaken. I can only imagine what thoughts must be consuming you at this moment, my love.

[fatedroses]

A radiant light that pierced through the eternal winter, though blind to the influence he held. A pendulum, who's bright kindness was inevitably made to swing into a legacy of darkness. A son. A brother. A father. A man, however extraordinary. And the beginning of Garlemald's doom.

[lanternlightss]

looking through the fic again. this siffrin can be a little obsessed with loop, as a treat