#but......they apologise but then are mean again over & over. it keeps happening and it’s just not fun to read when it’s 80% of the book?

[apinchofm]

I want to see Edwina and Fran interact! They do seem like they would get along really well! Maybe they hung out before Edwina left to get married? Before Kate's honeymoon?

Wait, yess!! My perfectionist girlies!!

Aubrey Hall was stifling for Francesca. To go from the quiet of Kildare and Bath and now she was back with her rambunctious, loving family.

She really liked her new in-laws. Kate was warm and fun and deeply in love with her brother. They would be departing for their honeymoon soon and hopefully the excitement would die down.

Unfortunately, her family were extremely animated and she ducked into the library whilst a wild game of Pall Mall took place.

She was mildly surprised to see Edwina Sharma in the library, sitting in a corner, her head in a book. The younger Sharma sister was so polite, so quiet and distant.

"It is nice to get some quiet, is it not?" Francesca said.

Edwina looked up and blinked twice, shutting her book and smiled warmly at her.

"Indeed." Edwina agreed.

Francesca sat down on the bench next to her. "I can only imagine how awkward this must be for you." She continued bluntly, "I think you are brave. It takes courage, to do as you did. To run from unhappiness."

She had not noticed Edwina's expression shift to one that she would describe as amused confusion and worried about what she had said.

"I do apologise-"

"No. No. Do not apologise. It is nice that someone will speak plainly with me." Edwina quickly said, smiling tightly.

Francesca smiled, relieved, "I find it easier to do so."

"You may not enjoy the season, then." Edwina said quietly but Francesca heard her.

"Do you still think of marriage?" Francesca asked curiously.

Edwina looks thoughtful, "I do still want to marry."

"Of course. But I mean to ask, what do you believe one should look for?" Francesca clarified. She felt someone who had been through what she had would have a clearer idea compared to Eloise who hated the idea of a man approaching her.

"Marriage is a gamble, I find. I think that finding someone who respects you is far better. When they respect you, they see you as a person. Not an object to be won nor a jewel to possess." Edwina mused, "I should like my respect returned but I cannot see that happening in London. A shame, for I loved the city." She murmured.

Francesca was confused because she understood that Edwina would be staying in London.

"I agree with that. I do not think my mama does. Love is tricky. People are even trickier, I feel." Francesca said, "I prefer the pianoforte. Or cats."

Edwina smiled but it was sweet, not condescending, "Cats are far more preferable to most people." They shared a smile.

"Perhaps we may hide in ballrooms together?" Francesca suggested and Edwina opened her mouth to reply then stopped, "Have I spoken out of turn again?"

Edwina shook her head, "Not at all, Francesca. No, it is just that... If you may keep this to yourself?" Francesca nodded, "I will not be in London,

"But why not?" Francesca wondered.

Edwina smiled sadly, "An offer has come up. One I do not want to refuse and I think it shall be a fresh start for me. To leave all of the pain and gossip behind."

Edwina leaned over, taking her hand, "I do believe you will have a good season, Francesca. I wish you the very best of luck. You shall need it."

[boliv-jenta]

Marcus Pike x perimenopausal wife reader.

Warnings: talk of periods and perimenopause.

Summary: Reader is having a bad time, her husband Marcus is an angel.

1.4k

Your Biggest Fan

The weather had been odd for this time of year. To have rainy days mixed with bright, summer-like days wasn't unusual but this year the rainy, dull days were in the majority. 

What was unusual was that the weather had only just started to warm up. Marcus found himself still clinging to his winter wardrobe far longer. He noticed your winter wardrobe was packed away faster than his. He had to admit he was sad to see the cosy knit sweaters that looked adorable on you go. The bright side was they were replaced with blouses that gave him a glimpse of your cleavage and strappy vests that he loved to peel down your shoulders, following them with a trail of kisses at the end of a hard day. 

Today is one of the summer-like days. Which is fortunate as Marcus's new boss has insisted everyone attend a barbecue at her place. He was just starting to run out of small talk with the new hires when he saw you crossing the rather large and pristine yard. His relief wavered when he saw the look on your face. The small smile you gave him was strained. There was obviously something bothering you as you weaved your way towards him. Even at a distance he could see the sadness in your eyes. After giving the colleague who was rambling on at him a few more moments of polite attention Marcus excused himself to make his way to you, only for you to be intercepted by one of your colleagues. They grabbed your attention so suddenly that Marcus has a second to enjoy the flash of thigh he got as your summer dress lifted with the force of you spinning to the source. With your back to him Marcus could spot the possible source of your low mood. It just hoped no one else could. Without breaking his stride, he slipped off his suit jacket and drapped it over his arm. The same arm came around your waist and he made polite excuses to your colleague to drag you away. Once the two of you were out of earshot Marcus began to wrap his jacket around your waist.

“Marcus?” You were slightly bemused by his actions. Funnily, your trust in him is so complete that you make no attempt to stop him.

“You got your period, Honey. I'll make some excuses, you go get in your car.” With a quick caress of your cheek, he's gone.

With what feels like your last bit of energy, you manage to make it all the way to your car without bursting into tears. Once you are safely behind the wheel the dam breaks. Tears flow over your heated cheeks. The cold feeling of your panties sticking to you becomes more apparent. A knock on the window brings you back from your misery.

“Are you okay to drive? I can leave my car here and drive if you want?” Marcus, your rock, knows you hate to be without your car. 

All you can do is nod pathetically as you climb in the passenger seat. Marcus lets you be silent all the way home. He knows there's nothing he can say right now to help. It's only when he comes around to open your door and you apologise for getting his jacket dirty that he breaks his silence. “Baby, it'll wash. Come on, let's get you comfortable.” 

A shower and a change of clothes later, Marcus welcomes you to the living room with open arms. “Hey, you. Better?”

“Much.” Most of the tension leaves you as you sink into the comfort of him. 

“Are you okay? I mean your periods are like clockwork and you haven't been sleeping well.” He holds you tighter as he speaks as if he can protect you from whatever is wrong.

Marcus knows that your periods had settled in your thirties, due to your previous attempts at getting pregnant. Attentive as always, he still keeps track even after you decided to stop trying. 

There they are, the tears again. “I think I might be perimenopausal.”

You knew as you approached forty this could happen but after the whole fertility thing and a couple of other health issues it felt like your body was constantly changing and out of your control. These new symptoms were just another thing you would have to deal with.

“Ssshh. It's alright. This is just another thing we will face together.” Marcus said with complete conviction in his voice. 

Day two of your period hit worse. While Marcus was out for a couple of hours, you made a nest on the sofa. Pillows and blankets comforted and supported each part of your now aching body. An assortment of snacks and drinks littered the coffee table. Even the sound of Marcus opening the door wasn't enough to rouse you. The sound of him giving instructions was. Burrowing out of your nest you make it to the hallway just in time to see a man and a woman carrying large boxes upstairs. You stand just out of sight as Marcus signs their clipboard and thanks them before having over a few notes as a tip. When the front door closes behind them, Marcus turns to look for you. He doesn't have to go far.

“Sorry, I guess I disturbed you. You go settle back down and watch a movie. I'll be done by the time it finishes.”

“Done with what?” Marcus kisses your wrinkled brow in answer before giving you a wink and heading upstairs.

By now, you know that if Marcus wants to surprise you, it's best to let him. 

True to his word, Marcus came to get you before the credits rolled. 

“Come on. I'm all done.” His two large hands wrap around yours to pull you up. Marcus bounds ahead of you like an excited puppy. As soon as you are safely upstairs, outside of your shared bedroom the same large hands cover your eyes. 

“No peeking!” He adds as you giggle. 

“Marcus! What is going on?” The stern tone is undercut by the persisting giggles.

Marcus skillfully steers you into position, keeping your eyes covered the entire time. “Okay. Now, open your eyes.”

When Marcus removes his hands you blink a few times to readjust before taking the sight in before you.

“What's all this?!” You try to take it all in. The huge new bed, the new bedding stacked on it, the fan set up on your side of the bed, the gift bags.

Marcus's excited face flashes with uncertainty for just a moment before he explains.

“You know I run hot so I bought a bigger bed so you can have some space from me. I bought us new bedding so we can each have our own comforter to keep us both at the temperature we want to be at. The fan is bladeless and supposed to be the quietest one on the market. That is a cooling pad, for underneath you. That bag is…” that's as far as Marcus gets before you can't take it anymore. His lips are stopped mid sentence by yours. 

“I love you.” Is all you can think to say after you kiss him. Somehow those words never feel enough for Marcus. 

“I love you, too.” Your precious husband tells you while cupping your face and pressing the tiniest kiss to the tip of your nose. “I can't imagine how rough it will be for you, going through another life change right now. I'm so sorry, but I'm here with you through all of it.”

Tears well in your eyes again. Even you don't know if they're of sadness or of joy. 

“Here.” Marcus picks up a gift bag. “I got you some portable fans for the office. There are so many cool ones. No pun intended. This one you can wear on your neck, this one you clip on your waist and it blows up under your shirt…” Marcus's excited fanboying over, well, fans faded out as your thoughts turned to how lucky you were. Yes, this whole thing sucks but it could be worse. You could be facing it all without the sweetest man in the world.

[cinnamon-phrog]

A mutual reblogged a pr*ship post and their dni is now neutral. Unfallowed. Bolcked.

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

A Tale of Seashells & Shenanigans

YA fantasy

follows a grumpy 19yo who works in the fantasy thriftstore

when a girl tells them she accidentally donated her selkie sealskin on their watch, they have to go on a quest with her across the sea to the other store the donations were sent to against their will

but things quickly go wrong and they get stranded on a desert island, and they have to survive by busking, and hitchhike with some pirates to make their way there, and their frustration eventually grows into attachment

nonbinary ace disabled (cane user) MC, aroace ‘love interest’, QPR-ish

[ineffable-suffering]

The meaning of "I forgive you"

Alright, hello again, I involuntarily dipped for a bit because real life outside of this lovely Tumblr Good Omens bubble got a little bit stressful, but! I'm back for a quick little post to say that I'm currently reading the script book for Season 1 and seeing this line again, spelled out on paper, just shone some more light on the whole „I forgive you“-scene of Season 2 for me again.

Because really, this first time Az says it to Crowley in front of the bookshop tells us exactly what the second time during the Final Fifteen means.

Aziraphale is not forgiving Crowley for kissing him. Or for using this moment to confess and make things explicit between them.

No, Aziraphale is forgiving Crowley for not trusting and believing (in) him.

Let's shove the Final Fifteen to the side for a second and look at this scene from Season 1 under the cut.

The situation at hand: The World is ending, with utmost certainty. In addition, Crowley is absolutely f*cked and Hell is out to get him. He tries to apologise for their Bandstand fallout and explain the other two things to Az (poorly, but he tries). Because to Crowley, Armageddon is a done deal already. Wherever the actual Antichrist is, he's gonna come into his power and the World will be wiped out for Heaven and Hell to wage their war on. Also, Hastur is coming to kick his demon ass. Time to dip!

And yet, Aziraphale doesn't want to come with him. He is adamant that he will be able to reach the Almighty, talk to Her and turn this around. Because if Aziraphale, Guardian of the Eastern Gate, thinks there's even the slightest, tiniest morsel of a chance that he can turn things around the right way, he will do it. Even if it sounds ridiculous. Even if it's a lost cause to everyone else. Even if all the other angels gang up on him and (literally) beat him up.

Even if Crowley calls him stupid.

Aziraphale decides not to be offended by this.

Because this is what he does. This is what a Guardian does. He stays and protects to ward off the intrusion, until the very last second.

Now listen, I'm the last person to blame Crowley for intrinsically wanting to choose Flight over Fight in this very situation, because Lord knows (literally) what happened to him back when he chose Fight and lost.

But at the same time we have to keep in mind that despite his last name, Aziraphale never Fell. He never made the horrible experience of being chucked away by the one who made you to love Her because you chose to question her ways. And yes, in so many ways this choice of his, to still believe that he can change something by questioning and suggesting (both here and in S2), is utterly maddening and hurtful to Crowley. Because it's a mirror of what Crowley himself did and a reminder of just how big the price he had to pay was. Aziraphale seemingly not realizing or understanding this stings. It does.

And yet.

Yet Aziraphale's choice to not take no for an answer, to not let a punch to the gut derail him from his plan, to not let even the most definitive thing such as Armageddon keep him from fighting back, is the one thing that ends up saving the World.

Because even when it all seems impossible and completely hopeless and bloody Satan himself is erupting from the pits of Hell, ...

... Aziraphale picks up his sword and fights back.

And he wins.

Not without help, of course. But might I remind you of what got Crowley to cooperate and not simply surrender like he'd almost done that second?

You might not see it at first, but tucked in between all the posh hedonism, hidden away underneath that tightly buttoned waistcoat of his, Aziraphale is a fighter. And a good one at that. I mean, for Someone's sake, he got discorporated, beamed himself down back to Earth, found Crowley somehow, possessed a psychic prostitute (love you, Madame Tracy), rode a scooter all the way to Taddfield and fought off Lucifer with sheer willpower (and a bit of emotional coercion).

Aziraphale can fight. Smart and hard. And not only that: He can win, too. And he knows it. Because he believes, truly, firmly and wholly, that he can make things right. It's the only thing he will settle for. This, ladies and gents, this is how he ends up saving the World, together with Crowley, Adam and the rest.

Because he didn't accept no as an answer. He didn't look at the impossible and accept it as such. Even when Crowley thought him to be an idiot for trying and even after his initial attempt at talking to God had failed, Aziraphale still found a way to stop The Big Bad Thing from happening.

Which is exactly what his plan is when he ends up being forced to come back to Heaven by the Metatron. (If you still believe this was a voluntary choice, read here). And which is exactly why he is so hurt and still ends up forgiving Crowley for the fact that Crowley doesn't end up coming with him. Doesn't end up understanding, trusting and believing (in) him, just like all the way back at the end of the World in Season 1.

Aziraphale decides not to be offended by this.

[lionheartedmusings]

once again rotating the qsmp and it's depiction of parenthood in my head and yeno i just... it makes me so deeply emotional it's not even funny? i remember conversations about "mothers and fathers" being the true qsmp theme song and i will die on that hill forever.

the thing that i find so poignant about it is that this was (as far as we know) never meant to be the story they were going to tell — the eggs were meant to come and go, a chapter in a story that would be looked back on fondly but one that was firmly over. and yet, the love. oh, the love.

it's so rare in media that we get such a raw and slow perspective of parenthood from the parents' perspective, to see the bonds forming and solidifying from "a responsibility that scares me" to "i would tear the world apart for you" — going back to vods of the first day of the eggs is wild, because they're filled with novelty and interest, but then time passes and we see love blossom.

we see love through grief too, like fit's voice when ramon lost his first life, or bad's screams when dapper had his nightmare, or the grief that came with trump, juana, and tilin's deaths. the desperation and grief of parents is an uncomfortable thing to witness, but in a medium like the qsmp it allows people to explore stories that are sometimes too heavy or too dark to portray in a less "goofy" medium.

we watched people's focus shift to their children as they embraced parenthood, especially in the face of loss, and we saw them accept truths that aren't pretty: if the eggs are there to manipulate them, okay. if they're a way for the federation to control them? fine. it doesn't matter, they're their children. they won't let go of them, not even if they're ultimately a means to keep them subdued.

the only time we've seen these characters truly lose their shit and rebel properly was when the eggs went missing, and that says so much. they'll almost accept losing their autonomy, but they won't lose their children.

it's been almost a year of the eggs, and they're the center of everything. every event, every game, every day — eggs are always the focus, whether it be in a "we need to protect them" way or a "i wonder what they want to do today" way. it's all about those kids.

meanwhile, we get to see these people be scared shitless, not have answers, be lost and confused half the time and not knowing how to handle every situation — they try their best, but time and time again they fumble and say the wrong thing, and have to apologise and try to do better next time.

it's so fucking beautiful, man. we see a day-to-day experience of parenthood and family (government assigned, found, chosen) that shows and movies can't give us because they're not a daily, breathing, on-the-go medium where we get to follow this one (or multiple bc none of us have lives) character through just... life.

in having this opportunity, we're privy to one of the most honest, human, and poignant depictions of parenthood and maturing that i've ever seen. we get to live this journey with these characters, and i'd bet a lot of money that that's part of why we're all so deeply attached to the eggs too.

long story short, storytelling is so fucking awesome and sometimes the most beautiful stories happen by accident.

[mismatched-sockss]

By your side

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader » Word count: 2,6k » Warnings: fluff with some angst, established relationship, mentions of reader wearing jewellery (necklace) and make up, pet names (honey, baby) » A/N: no body description --- pls take a look here for more info about my reader descriptions in general

Being in a relationship with an FBI agent - especially one working in the BAU - meant, dreading each phone call or text they got when they were off the clock and the both of you were spending time together. But it also meant, dreading each phone call you got, when they were out of town and / or state working on a case. The small heart attack you suffered every time the phone rang, the fear of hearing something happened or that they wouldn't be coming home... You prayed to who ever was listening, that you would never get the latter.

Sometimes, it meant dreading to get a call from them before they even had the chance to see you.

Your hands were still holding the clasp of your necklace between your fingers, just about to close it, when your cellphone rang. The screen lit up and for a second you closed your eyes, not quiet ready to confirm who it was.

For a second you wished the caller would be anyone else but - hell, you would even prefer it if it was your mother, who you had not spoken to in almost ten years.

A sigh left your lips when you opened your eyes and looked at the screen: Spence❤️

Well, looked like your evening plans would change.

You lowered your hands, still holding your necklace and placed it back on to the small glass bowl where you kept your most used jewellery in.

You cleared your throat before you answered the call, trying to keep even the slightest bit of disappointment from your voice. And then, you put on a smile and held your phone to your ear. "Hi, you."

"Hey." Spencer drew the greeting out, he sounded less enthusiastic then you had forced yourself to sound. This was the last piece you needed, to know that he wasn't just calling to tell you that he was excited to see you later.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, slightly gnawing on your lip.

"Where?", was all you asked. This time, you couldn't keep your tone light, no matter how hard you were trying.

After a short silence: "Oregon. Lakeview."

You nodded slowly, even though you knew he couldn't see it. "When-", you had to clear your throat again, "uh, when are you leaving?"

"We're about to get on the jet", Spencer answered. It pained him just as much as you, maybe even more, that he had to cancel on you. Again. On your one year anniversary of all days. And you didn't even have some time to at least talk on the phone for a couple of minutes before he had to go.

For a moment neither of you said a word. This wasn't the first time he had to cancel your plans due to his work and it sure as hell would not be the last time. You knew what you were getting yourself in to when Spencer and you started seeing each other. You knew that it would probably happen more times than not and you accepted it; you were more than understanding that the bad guys didn't care for nine-to-fives, weekends or holidays.

You were more than understanding that, while yes, you were a priority in his life, the job would have to come first. And you were fine with that, his job wasn't one he could just “pause” to spent more time with you. But no matter how okay you were with Spencer's unpredictable work hours, that didn't mean it didn't affect you. You couldn't help but feel sad and disappointed when ever he got called away, every time wishing he would stay.

You knew from the start, that it would be hard and it would take a lot of work. But he was worth all of this.

Over the phone you could hear another voice, too distant to make out what was being said, but you didn't need to. It was your cue: your time was up.

"I'm s- I have to go. I'm sorry, honey", Spencer apologized. He would apologise a hundred times more if you'd let him.

"It's okay", you say, a sad smile on your lips.

"I am so sorry, I promise I'll make it-"

But you interrupted him, knowing that he wanted to say that he would make it up to you; and knowing, that he would. "It's okay, baby. Go, they need you. Really, it's okay. I'm okay. I'll see you when you get back. Just... Be safe, okay?"

"I will", he promised, "I will... I love you."

"I love you too." Then, the call ended.

You took in a shaky breath to calm yourself down and wiped the single tear that had escaped from your cheek. Exhaling all the air in your lungs out at once, you squared your shoulders and made eye contact with yourself in the mirror. You had only gone through your skin care routine after you got out of the shower, so there was no make up you had to remove.

A tight lipped smile on your lips, you nodded at yourself. "Just gonna be you, some chinese take out and a nice relaxing horror movie tonight", you mumbled. You stood up, changed into some comfortable clothes and then walked into the kitchen to get the flyer of your favourite chinese restaurant out of the drawer.

It had been almost a week since then. He hadn't told you any details of course, but the simple textbook case that first landed on their desks had turned out to be much bigger than anyone could have imagined.

Spencer had called you every evening, and hearing his voice calmed your worries and fears of him getting hurt, but each phone call made you miss him more and more.

Tonight, he hadn't called you yet and it was getting pretty late. You had gotten a text from him not too long ago, a quick check in, so you knew he was okay.

While you waited, you had brought a book and cup of tea with you as you moved from the couch to your bed. With a pillow in your back, you were leaning against the headboard, your blanket draped over your legs, and your phone lay next to you on the bed.

You looked up from your book to check the time. It was close to one o'clock and it was getting hard to keep your eyes open, sleep already pulling at your conscience, but you didn't want to go to sleep without talking to Spencer. A couple of minutes would do it, you just wanted to hear his voice. You continued reading, but Morpheus had other plans for you, and so you drifted into a deep sleep, your book still in your hands.

A soft touch, first on your forehead and hair, then on your shoulder pulled you out of your dreams just enough for you to feel the bed dip behind you, followed by an arm sneaking around your waist. You hummed happily, when lips pressed against your shoulder and your neck in a few chaste kisses before you were pulled closer against a firm chest.

The smell of coffee and something sweet tickled your nose hours later, slowly stirring you awake. With your eyes still closed you inhaled through your nose, sniffing the air, trying to make out the different smells. If you weren't mistaken, Spencer had baked blueberry-pancakes. It smelled delicious, that was for sure.

Your attention was quickly drawn away though, when you became aware of the feathery kisses being planted on your neck; you vaguely remembered feeling the same kisses last night. A hand gently rubbed over your upper arm, from your elbow up to your shoulder where fingertips moved so softly over your shoulder blade it almost tickled, before the hand travelled back down to your elbow.

A smile spread on your lips as your heartbeat quickened and a warm, fuzzy feeling spread through your stomach. You sighed and slightly moved your head to make more room for the man behind you.

You could feel the lips on your skin stretching into a smile as well, could feel the low chuckle bubbling up in the chest that was pressed against your back. He scooted even closer, moulding his body to the silhouette of yours. Spencer planted one last kiss on the top of your shoulder before he rested his cheek against it and looked at you.

"Good morning", he said softly, his warm breath hit your ear and a shudder ran down your spine. He, obviously, had been up for a while already, but his voice still had that raw and rough undertone like it always had in the morning.

"Hey", you sighed as you stretched your tired muscles, then you turned around, bringing your hand up to touch his cheek. "You're back."

He hummed and leant into your touch, his eyes closed. You let your eyes wander over his face, checking for any cuts or bruises. Relief flooded through you when you didn't find any.

"You okay?", you asked.

He nodded and reached up to cover your hand with his. "Just tired."

"I bet. You didn't say you were coming back. Waited for you to call", you mumbled.

He kissed your wrist and gently squeezed your hand, then he opened his eyes again to meet your gaze. "Surprise?", he joked, but you could hear a hint of guilt in his tone. "I hope I didn't keep you up too long? I'm sorry, I should have at least texted you."

You shook your head. "Don't worry about it. I'm just glad your here now and that you are okay."

"But-", he started but you closed the space between you and kissed him.

"Shh, no buts. I'd stay awake and wait the whole night if it means that I get you back, unharmed and in one piece." You kissed him again, letting you lips linger a bit longer this time.

When you pulled away and saw his furrowed brows and the conflicted look in his eyes, you could almost hear the gears in Spencer's mind working.

He moved his hand to the back of your neck, threading his fingers through your hair and pulled you closer. He pressed his lips against your forehead, but not in the light hearted way he had kissed you before, then he tucked your head under his chin. And if he wouldn't have been so close, you might not have heard the words he whispered next.

"You deserve so much better..."

If someone would have stabbed you with a dull knife multiple times right into your heart, it wouldn't have hurt you as much as his muttered words just had.

"Don't say that", you said, your voice muffled with the way your face was so close to his neck.

In contradiction to what he was implying - or maybe especially because of what he was implying -, Spencer's hold on you tightened, leaving no room for you to put any distance between the both of you even if you wanted. "Why not? It's true... You don't deserve-"

"A sweet and loving boyfriend, who gets up to make breakfast even on days when he had about two hours of sleep at best, all after a whole week of working like 24h a day?" You did your best to sound light hearted. "Wow, that's harsh."

He huffed, but stayed silent for a moment.

"I mean it, you don't deserve someone who you can't even make plans with, without the possibility that they have to leave in the middle of it and who leaves you alone all the time", he mumbled against the crown of your head. It took everything in you not to start crying; for you, for him, for the possibility of an end to the future you wanted with him. "I hate that I have to cancel our dates all the time. I feel like I'm letting you down..." You felt his adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. "And I would understand if you wouldn't want to put up with that any more.”

You placed your hands on his chest and pushed slightly, just enough so you could lean your head back and look at him. Tears had not only welled up in your eyes, but his as well. To stop your lip from quivering you pulled it between your teeth. You slid one of your hands higher, over the side of his neck and up to the side of his face. For a moment you softly stroked your thumb over his cheek, but then went on to try and flatten out the space between his brows, to remove the deep frown on his face.

You took a deep breath. “Did you save some lives in Oregon?”, you asked him, you voice not much louder than a whisper.

“Huh? What?” Confusion was written all over his face.

“Did you?”

“Uh, yes.”

You smiled at him. “And did you catch the bad guy?”

“... Yes.”

“Good." You brushed a strand of hair that had fallen into his eyes behind his ear. "That's enough for me. Then there is nothing to feel bad about. You don't leave on purpose or with ill intentions. Then things don't always go as planned, so what? I know how much this job means to you, and I know how important it is for the people in need that you do it."

A tear escaped from the corner of your eye and landed on the pillow. You let your eyes wander over his face, before stopping to meet his gaze.

"And that's exactly why you deserve better", he whispered, his voice braking.

You shook your head. "I don't want anything or anyone else. I don't want what ever you mean by better." You leaned closer, kissing the corner of his mouth. "I want you. " Another kiss to the other side. "And only you." You planted a kiss on the tip of his nose next. "With or without a crazy and unpredictable work schedule. I'm not gonna lie, yes it's hard. And I need you by my side, too. But still, I wouldn't trade it for the world." You pressed your lips to his, before you whispered: "I love you. More than anything. And I'm gonna stay by your side, come hell or high water, for as long as you'll have me. So don't shut me out, or push me away and try to get me to leave. Because I won't."

Both of you were in tears by now, not even trying to stop it any more. Neither of you said anything else for a minute or two, instead you let your words settle.

Spencer cupped your cheek and wiped your tears away with his thumb. "I have no idea what I did to deserve you. How did I get so lucky?", he said softly and then brushed the pad of this thumb over your bottom lip.

You giggled. "That's my line."

He smiled and closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss. "I love you", he breathed out against your lips before he kissed you again.

You smiled into the kiss. “I love you too.”

For few minutes the both of you just basked in the bliss of the moment; laying warm and content in each others arms, the soft sound of birds chirping outside the bedroom window and the promise of a delicious breakfast that was waiting for you.

And there was only one question left to ask.

“Eat in the kitchen or breakfast in bed?”

[alexias-putellas]

the grudge (3) // barça femení x reader

barça femení x reader

part one part two

warnings: few swear words, mentions of an injury. nothing much! also let’s pretend that said injury would be assessed and handled quickly for the sake of the plot :))

-

you breathed shakily as the elevator jolted suddenly, whirring back to life. katie’s words still hung thick in the air, almost suffocating you as they stole the air from your lungs.

she was waiting for a response. her foot nudged yours and you were hesitant to pull it away, momentarily wanting nothing but her.

you tried not to feel bad about it. sure, she may have shattered your heart but it was once hers. and it was hers for a very long time. so you really did try not to hate yourself for wanting to do nothing more than to curl up in her arms and have her tell you that everything would be okay, that it would all work out in the end.

you stood up, ignoring the way your legs shook underneath you, facing the doors. nearly there, you reminded yourself.

the elevator soon dinged and you found yourself staring at the lobby of the hotel. katie’s arm brushed against yours as she walked out, sending chills through your body, and you stepped out too. for a moment, you watched her leave.

you brushed off the frantic questions and apologies from the staff, quietly assuring them that there was no damage done. everything was fine.

fine fine fine.

the stairs seemed to be the safest option so you slowly climbed them, sighing heavily when you reached your floor.

really, you shouldn’t have been so surprised to find mapi in your room when you pushed the door open. ingrid had always struggled to keep things from the spaniard.

you kicked the door shut and dropped onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“so?” mapi asked, sitting next to you and nudging your knee.

“well,” you let out a breath. “we got stuck in the elevator for what felt like forever, that’s why we were gone so long.”

mapi’s lips curled as she laughed and you slapped her arm. “lo siento but that is funny. what if she did it on purpose?”

you rolled your eyes. “anyway, she apologised.“

“for everything?”

“for everything,” you confirmed with a nod. she looked at you expectantly, nudging you again when you stayed quiet. “oh my–do i really have to tell you everything?”

“sí. go.” mapi waved her hand and you rolled your eyes.

“like i said, she apologised. and she told me, well, everything. long distance bothered her way more than it bothered me but she was too scared to end it so she tried to make me hate her so that i would end it. i suppose it worked. she never cheated–“

“she told you that?” mapi asked and it was then you realised that she’d moved to lay next to you.

“i asked her, yeah. she can’t lie to me, or to anyone, she’s a terrible liar.”

“if you say so.” the spaniard muttered.

“caitlin and lia had just broken up as well and katie wanted to make herself feel better, it just so happened that caitlin was the thing to do that,” you explained, taking a breath. “they broke up, mapi. katie ended it like two months ago.”

“¿por qué?” mapi’s voice was soft and she reached over, entwining your fingers and resting your hands on her stomach.

“i don’t know, she didn’t tell me,” you shrugged. “but she did say that she wanted to try again. as friends.”

“and you said?”

“nothing,” you admitted. “i didn’t know what to say. what could i say?”

“no. you say no,” mapi turned to look at you. “unless… you did not want to say no.”

“you really need to think about it, kjære.” ingrid’s voice sounded from the bathroom.

“oh my god,” you huffed as she walked out. “are you two ever apart?”

they ignored your quip.

“i’m serious,” ingrid said, taking a seat on the other side of you. “just because she said the right things today doesn’t mean she will tomorrow. or the day after.”

you looked between them. “do you think it’s a bad idea?”

“sí.” mapi answered immediately, ingrid reaching over to slap her lightly.

“it is not for us to decide but you do need to think it through. you miss her, it is only natural. but she broke your heart. she lost your trust. and she might never get it back. it might seem like a good thing now but what if a few months down the line she wants to take things further and you don’t? or you do and she doesn’t? what if you become friends and she gets back with caitlin? i know you said she didn’t cheat but you’ll always have that doubt in the back of your mind. she broke you, elskling. i do not want to see her do it again, none of us do. you are thinking with your heart and you need to be thinking with this.”

ingrid gently tapped your forehead. she was right, she always was. it wasn’t a decision to be made lightly and you knew that one way or another, it would end in a broken heart.

you pushed yourself up with a sigh, pulling ingrid into a quick side hug. mapi was quick to wrap her arms around you both, tugging you to lay down as you burst into giggles.

“maría!” you squealed as she dug her fingers into your sides. “get off! we need to go!”

“yes, maría, vamos.”

you snickered at the look on mapi’s face and decided to let ingrid deal with her. as you opened the door, you ended up coming face to face with patri and pina, who were just leaving their room.

fighting them wasn’t worth it so you let them sandwich you as you all made your way down to the lobby, ingrid and a grumbling mapi following.

london was once your home and when you were hit with the cold air, you really began to miss it. you walked behind the girls for a bit, hands stuffed into the pockets of your puffer coat.

no longer wanting to be alone with your wandering thoughts, you sped up and wedged yourself between ona and lucy, grinning up at them both.

“i’ve beat you both at the emirates.”

ᡣ𐭩

it was a sick twist of fate.

katie was a physical player. you knew that, of course you did.

and you also knew better than to let your concentration slip on the pitch.

you don’t really know how it happened. you were ready to send the cross in to aitana but katie slid in, catching your ankles again. your hesitation meant that you landed in a tangle of limbs with a horrendous throbbing in your ankle.

you couldn’t hold the sob back and you glared at katie through your tears as she scrambled to stand. to her credit, she immediately motioned for the medics before turning back to you.

“don’t,” you spat as she kneeled by your ankle. “get away from me, katie. get the fuck away, i swear to god.”

the swarm of red and yellow drowned out her rushed apologies and you covered your face with your arm, sobbing into your skin. what you didn’t see was the ref holding a red card up and a distraught katie being comforted by alessia and kyra.

alexia was kneeling by your head within seconds, trying to pry your arm off. “where?”

“ankle,” you choked out, just catching her sharp intake of breath. “want leah, someone get leah. please, i want leah.”

leah’s name was screamed almost immediately and she was kneeling on the other side of your head before you knew it.

“i’m here bubs.” she whispered, grabbing your hand and squeezing it.

“she broke it, lee!” you cried. “she broke my fucking ankle!”

mapi’s words from the other game echoed around in your head and some part of you wanted to laugh. laugh away the pain and the fear. but you couldn’t.

“i know,” she said. “and i’m gonna kill her for it, don’t you worry.”

you focused on leah’s soft coos and not on the way the medics were stabilising your ankle and gently moving you onto a stretcher.

“stay with me.”

“i’m not going anywhere.” leah assured you, walking alongside the medics as you were brought off the pitch.

the stadium shook as the crowd clapped. salma was announced as your replacement and she squeezed your free hand before running onto the pitch. it was clear to everyone that neither team wanted the game to carry on, everyone looking jittery as the game started again.

and to the players on and off the pitch, it felt like it lasted forever. nobody wanted to stay on the pitch after the final whistle, no one was in the mood to congratulate and console. there was no desire to stand around and chat. barcelona’s impressive away win was tainted.

you were curled up on the hospital bed, the plaster cast a heavy reminder of what you were so desperate to forget. sobs still wracked your body, your face hidden by the red puffer jacket wrapped around you.

leah was comforting you the best way she could. by being there. her hand stroked your hair but she didn’t speak. you didn’t want her to and she knew that. she was there and that was enough. her phone buzzed and she reached into the pocket of her coat to pull it out.

“hey,” she whispered once your sobs had died down. “some of the girls were thinking of coming, is that okay?”

“no.”

leah frowned but nodded, texting keira back at a speed she didn’t know was possible. “i don’t have my car so someone needs to drive us, bub.”

“beth.” you whispered.

the blonde nodded, sending yet another text before moving to the other side of the bed, helping you sit up. your face was red and splotchy, eyes bloodshot and throat sore. leah’s frown deepened.

she handed you your crutches and you grabbed them with shaky hands, thankful that she was there to help you steady yourself.

“ready?” she asked quietly and you nodded in response.

you made your way slowly out of the building, being greeted by beth and viv straight away. they both hugged you gently and if you weren’t stuck in your own head, you’d have heard their whispered apologies and support.

leah helped you into the back of the car, letting you lean against her with your leg stretched across the seats. the car ride was deathly silent, no one really knowing what to say.

it wasn’t so much the injury that was bothering you more than the thought of who was partly at fault. katie never meant to hurt you and deep down, you knew that. no matter who was tackling you, the outcome would’ve been the same.

but you needed someone to blame, somewhere to place all the hurt and the anger. so you gave it all to katie.

when beth pulled up outside of the hotel, the car door was opened and you were met with ingrid’s concerned face. she helped you out of the car and you hobbled up the stairs, faintly hearing her thank leah before being told what the doctors had said.

alexia greeted you in the lobby, a deep frown on her face as her stomach dropped. your face was void of emotion, a horrible emptiness behind your eyes. she’d seen that look before. you’d sported it for weeks when you’d told them about your break up.

it hit her like a ton of bricks when you breezed straight passed her, not even bothering to spare her a glance.

they’d lost you again and alexia wasn’t sure if they were ever going to get you back.

-

okay so i’m not completely in love with this part. it feels rushed and dramatic and all over the place. but you guys have been so patient and supportive that i can’t bear the thought of keeping you waiting any longer. i hope you enjoyed it regardless <333

[disneyprincemuke]

wasted like all my potential * fem!driver

jury's out: everything officially fucking sucks

pairings: liam lawson x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver

notes: again i apologise for this taking so long apparently now that I'm kinda mentally no longer struggling with a 12k assignment, I've lost all feels to hurt rocky but no woRRIES IT'S COMING TO AN END SOON

(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)

(prev)

just another day listening to her team explaining another change to the car and another day where she hopes that it all works out in her favour.

she glances out the window of the meeting room, finding the usual corner that’s typically occupied by matt, still empty. she sinks in her seat and folds her arms over her chest as she desperately tries to dial herself back into the meeting.

she catches liam’s eye across the table, the kiwi lifting his eyebrows with a small nod to acknowledge her. she smiles tiredly at him before sucking in a deep breath and returning her gaze to the empty table in front of her.

it’s just another weekend where she tries to save both her and the team’s faces. how long can she keep up the act of having things together in front of the media?

something’s gotta give.

when the meeting ends, she simply picks herself up and is the first one out of the room. sebastian, who’d been sitting next to her, simply sighed to himself as she walked out.

it’s been so difficult to get a grasp of her lately. it’s not just something only he’s noticed, it’s happening to everybody else in the team. since they’d touched down at the airport for the race weekend, it’s even a miracle to get her attention for 5 minutes.

she’s always reserved or simply preferred her own company.

it’s apparent with every single person she interacts with. the girl used to be able to uphold a conversation by her talking alone, but now everything’s minimal. conversations never last more than a minute and she’s always found in her driver’s room by herself.

at first, he concluded that she was unhappy with him. which, would be perfectly fine, seeing the current state of her race weekends. he’s more shocked that she hasn’t blown up in front of him yet.

not a single scream, an utter of frustration… not even a tear shed in half a year and truthfully, it’s almost worrying.

“you’ve got to tell her before she finds out from elsewhere,” sebastian mutters, patting liam on the back as they leave the room. “she’ll be even angrier if it doesn’t come from you.”

“have you spoken to her lately? i don’t think i’ll even get a reaction out of her,” liam whispers back, pointing at the girl walking up the stairs by herself with her head hung low. “do you have any idea how difficult it is to speak to her?”

“yes,” sebastian says with a scowl, “i literally talk to her every weekend.”

liam gives him a knowing stare. “then you should know how unreachable she is nowadays.” he pushes sebastian in the direction of the stairs. “maybe you should speak with her first before i go in there.”

sebastian scoffs, stumbling forward. he turns around and stands next to liam again. “no way. you’re not sending me in there to fight a war by myself.”

“do i really have to? can’t she just find out like everybody else if it goes through?” liam scowls with a sarcastic laugh when sebastian nods.

sebastian pushes him forward. “go and tell her before the media gets a hold of these things and leaks it before you get the chance to break the news yourself,” sebastian says. “let’s not cause a commotion where it’s not needed.”

“fine,” liam mutters, stomping a foot on the ground. he fixes his team shirt and sucks in a deep breath, trying to rehearse his lines in his head. it’s one thing to get the courage to speak to her nowadays, but being the bearer of somewhat bad news is an entirely different situation.

he takes a step forward and looks back at sebastian, throwing him a mean glare. meanwhile, the older man just flashes him a bright smile and an encouraging nod.

he runs up the stairs and calls out to her. the girl stops and turns around. her straight face almost makes liam jump back, not expecting to be greeted so suddenly.

“yes?”

“i uh,” liam huffs and straightens his shirt, “i need to talk to you.”

she tilts her head, “is everything okay?”

liam smiles. seems like he’s caught her at a great time, which should make this slightly easier. “of course. i just need to tell you something; it’s important.”

“oh,” she raises her eyebrows and points down the hallway, “do you want to sit down and talk about it? that serious?”

he shakes his head. he just doesn’t want her to burst out at him. especially that he’s not one to know how to handle her if she breaks. “i can just tell you now,” he shrugs, making his way up the steps to meet her at the top. “but i want you to know that it’s nothing personal.”

nothing personal. so it has something to do with her? she feels her heart start to race in her chest and the room starts to spin. she bites down on her lip and starts to pick at the skin around her nails. “did i do something?”

“no,” liam shakes his head. “what? no, you didn’t do anything. is everything okay?”

she blinks, “yeah, why?”

liam sucks in a deep breath and eventually decides to brush it off. “well, i wanted to let you know that i’m getting offers from other teams for next season.”

he watches her expression change, contorting into an expression he’s not quite sure how to decipher it. so he quickly tries to undo it. “i haven’t signed anything yet. but you know… with the year we’re having, i want to keep my options open. i’ll tell you if something catches my eye.”

he stumbles back, not even realising that she’d made her way down to him, throwing her arms around him. “i’m so happy for you, liam. you deserve to have options.”

he looks down at her body, tightly clinging onto him. “really?”

“of course.” she takes a step back and pats his chest. “you’re the best teammate ever. any team would be lucky to have you as their driver.”

she climbs out of her car with a grumble, half annoyed and half amused. amused that her luck has continued its plummet with every weekend she spends in on a track.

she snarls down at her car as she tears her helmet off her head. “you’re a stupid car,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “you’ll never be anything like last year’s car. you suck.”

she is fully aware of how crazy she sounds, and looks, telling an inanimate object off. but as of late, it seems those are the only things she can vent to that won’t turn its back on her. the only thing that won’t retaliate when she needs to scream at it.

“if i could kick you, i would,” she mutters with a scowl. “i’d break you apart like a fucking lego set if it wouldn’t get me fired.”

she feels a tap on her shoulder, whirling around to find sebastian smiling at her and her phone held in the air.

“matt’s calling you.” she nods and reaches out for her phone but he pulls it back at the last second. “are you okay? i know quali wasn’t as good as we hoped for, but they’re looking into it to make the car better for tomorrow.”

“seb,” she sighs, shaking her head with a disappointed frown, “you say that every weekend we’re in here. are you not sick of saying that?”

he drops his hand. “well, one of us needs to keep our head up with this season we’re having.” he smiles slightly and offers her the ringing phone. “you shouldn’t let it get to you — you’re still a great driver.”

“that’s not what it feels like lately,” she mutters, grabbing her phone from sebastian. “i should be able to make a car work. it shouldn’t matter if it’s good or bad.” she glances down at her buzzing phone, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. she presses the decline button. “i’ll be at the media pen if you need me.”

she watches from the window in her driver’s room, her friends all gathered up, walking towards the gantries to exit the paddocks. they’re leaving to head for dinner without her after she’d refused their offer again.

oscar had approached her in the media pen to invite her out for dinner with them but she’d just not been feeling it. which would make this the 5th invitation that she’s rejected in 11 race weekends. oscar didn’t force her anymore; just simply shrugged and took her ‘no’ as it is.

which somehow made her feel even worse. which is even funnier, considering that just 2 races ago, she’d been wishing for her friends to invite her out after days in the paddocks. but there was something about her best friend taking her answer point blank without another word.

it feels so… isolating.

what if they’ve finally gotten tired of her rejection? what if they’re tired of her?

she whirls around to face her room. it’s messier than she’d usually keep it, her team shirts are lazily hung on the back of her chair and the sofa, her makeup is sprawled messily all over the table with a half-empty coffee cup that she had silently with sebastian for a strategy meeting.

the framed picture of her and sebastian is up on the wall again, with some attempt from sebastian to help her put it up again. she wishes that he’d never offered to help her put it back up. every time she looks at it, she remembers all her former glory and how far she’s fallen now.

and by meeting, she means that he spoke the entire time while she sat there nodding and smiling politely while thinking about how bad the car would be once she got in it.

and liam is leaving. well, he’s not technically leaving yet but seeing how their year keeps going down, it’s likely that he would. and she’s got a contract for another 3 years — where the hell is she going to go? nowhere because she has to stay here.

but everyone seems to be leaving her after her behaviour. but it’s hard to stop feeling this way.

how can she not feel this way?

if liam’s finished in the top 5 in the race and she’s out of the points, what does that mean for her? she’s just half the driver she was, she thinks.

she finds herself in the bar after feeling the need to be here. liam now holds the record for the highest finish for her team this season, after all. and she’s not about to be labelled a sore loser by not being here at all.

though she could almost predict being the talk of the town with her tucking herself in the corner of the club half the time they spent in there. people always find a way to vilify her actions anyway.

but in a way, she shouldn’t have come out of her hotel room. she shouldn’t have gone anywhere knowing her state of mind. she hasn’t had a drop of liquor in her system for a hot minute, but the minute she was reminded of its glorious taste, she couldn’t hold herself back.

she’s on her knees in the back alley of the club they’d dragged her to, hands planted on the gravel as she struggles to hold herself over the drainage. she takes deep breaths to steady herself, blinking in desperation to steady herself.

“fuck.” she shuts her eyes momentarily, taking another deep breath as she feels a sob and another urge to vomit. moreover, her chest hurts. could it be from drinking too much too fast or is it something deeper than that? she can never tell.

“hey, you’ve been– rocky?”

“don’t,” she sobs, holding a hand up quickly to stop whatever else could have come out of the man’s mouth. she balls her hands against the gravel, the pain of dragging her skin against the rough material doesn’t register, but it does cut into her skin. “whatever you’re going to say, keep it to yourself.”

she feels a warm hand rubbing circles on her back and suddenly there’s someone kneeling on the ground next to her. she feels her hair getting brushed back, held into a makeshift ponytail. “i won’t,” liam mutters, slouching slightly. “what do you need? a glass of water? do you need me to take you back to the hotel?”

she shakes her head as another heavy sigh passes her lips. “i don’t know.”

“i’m going to get you a glass of water from the club, okay?” liam hums, squeezing her hand. “please don’t go anywhere. i’ll only be away for a second, stay conscious.”

she nods through staggered breaths. her hair falls past her shoulders to cover her face and the warm hand on her back is replaced by the cold wind.

she grabs liam’s arm just before he gets up. “don’t tell anyone about this.” she turns slightly. her red eyes and puffed cheeks almost made liam want to stay and cradle her until she felt better then and there. “please.”

there’s something about seeing someone — her, specifically — get wasted. she’s always prided herself as someone who can take her liquor, so this was a whole new look that, honestly, he didn’t want to get used to.

how exactly do you try and relight the spark in someone who seems to dwindle away with every weekend that passes?

he doesn’t ever speak up, but he spends the most time with her out of everyone at this point in their lives. he knows; he notices. it’s hard not to when the tension in the air always seems so heavy.

liam nods. “of course.”

“i’m going to miss you,” she says with a frown, resting on her knees. she unzips the pet carrier and she cups kidnapper’s cheeks and tenderly pets his head. “i just need some time but i can’t take care of you right now.”

the cat simply tilts his head and tenderly lifts its head to rub the top of his head on her cheek. she wraps her arms around kidnapper and sighs.

she knew the day would come, sooner or later, that she couldn’t really take care of kidnapper. sure, he makes her apartment feel less isolated but it’s slowly becoming harder to take care of herself and the cat alike.

there are hours when it feels like a task to get herself out of bed for herself. much less for a cat that depends on her to be taken care of.

so she zips up the carrier and wipes her tears off her face. she composes herself before she forces herself to her feet. she knocks on the door and waits for an answer.

“must be someone we know if you’re not barking!” she hears logan laugh, followed by footsteps and then stubby’s loud footsteps against the hardwood flooring of his apartment.

the door opens, revealing logan in his pyjamas with a small grin. right by his feet is stubby, wagging his tail happily at her with a large smile and hopping on the spot at her sight and scent. “rocky,” he says in surprise with a small grin.

he wouldn’t have been so surprised if she’d been easier to reach lately. but in the passing weeks, it seems that she’s started to pull away from him and oscar.

it’s always a nice surprise when she shows up to his apartment unannounced. but with the familiar carrier by her feet, it makes him wonder what really brings her here. especially considering that she’s practically gone off the grid every single time they’re not in the paddocks for a race weekend.

she completely ignores their messages.

“what are you doing here?”

she had a whole speech prepared the entire time she walked over to his apartment building. a lie about needing him to take care of kidnapper for her while she spent the next couple of weeks in the states with matt.

but she ends up with, “i need someone to take care of kidnapper.”

“of course,” logan grins, tilting his head. “is everything okay? have you been crying?”

“watched a sad movie before coming here,” she forces a laugh out of herself, pointing at the carrier. “you don’t mind, do you? just a couple of weeks — i’m going out of town.”

she wasn’t expecting to make conversation with logan. in fact, that’s the entire reason she’d planned a speech prior to coming here with her cat in tow.

“we don’t mind,” he smiles. “arkansas with matt’s family, i suppose?”

she nods, “yeah.”

how exactly do you talk to your best friend who feels like she’s always a thousand miles away? “well, um,” logan hums, “do you want to come in for a drink? maybe a snack?”

she should accept the offer. “i’m leaving tonight, actually. i still have a lot of packing to do,” she feigns a frown, “maybe after i get back?”

logan nods with a grin. “sure. take care, dude, and have fun.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @c-losur3 @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @mclarengf @xoscar03 @nomie-11 @green-thots @tinyhrry @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

[ericshoney]

Argument ~ Brothers!Sturniolo triplets

Warnings: Arguments, rude comments, angst.

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

Having four older brothers was sometimes a blessing but also a pain. They would all help you with school work and friendships, but also scare away anyone who got too close to you for their liking.

You lived with the triplets in LA. Being a year younger than them, it wasn't a massive age gap, but the boys made it their mission to keep a close eye on you at all times. You were their responsibility. They were protective over you.

You knew the guys were filming today, so you had planned to get dressed and head out for a walk. It was a nice day and you just wanted a stroll around the block as they filmed this week's car video. You picked just a t-shirt and some joggers, wanting to be comfortable with your stroll, you didn't think there would be a problem at all. Until you bumped into Chris accidently.

"Watch it, kid." He grumbled, almost spilling the Pepsi in his hand.

"Sorry." You apologised, wondering why Chris was moody.

He sighed as you started to the door. But his voice stopped you.

"Where are you going?" He called, as you stood at the top of the stairs.

"Just for a walk. I know your filming today so I was just going to take a stroll around the block." You answered.

"Without asking." He stated.

"Didn't realise I had to ask to take a simple walk." You said, the sass evident in your voice.

"Don't get sassy with me, kid. You know the rules." He replied, making you laugh.

"What rules! I'm going for a walk, Chris!" You shouted.

"Without asking!" He repeated.

"What is going on?" Matt called as he appeared along with Nick.

"Kid thinks she's the fucking boss here." Chris mumbled.

"I'm going for a walk while you all film." You said.

"Without asking!" Chris repeated once again.

"What's next I gotta ask to fucking go to the bathroom!" You shouted back.

"Woah, lose the attitude." Nick said.

"Yeah no need for that." Matt added.

"What about him!" You exclaimed, pointing at Chris.

"He's not wrong." Nick said.

"What?" You called in shock.

"I mean, if Chris didn't stop you and you just left, how would we know where you are or if something happened to you?" Matt asked, siding with his brothers.

"Your fucking joking." You scoffed.

"No, no we're not." Chris said.

"I'm not a baby! I'm nineteen! I can take care of myself!" You screamed.

"It's our job to keep you safe in LA. If your going to be such a brat just go back to Boston." Nick said coldly.

"You don't mean that." You said quietly, trying to hold back the tears.

"Mum and dad said we're to take care of you. But you think just because your here you can get away with anything. That's not how it works, kid. You gotta follow the rules." Matt responded.

"It's fucking daylight! I'm just going for a simple walk!" You shouted, the anger rising now.

"Go then! Go on your fucking walk! But don't fucking expect anything from us when you get back!" Chris shouted, heading down to the car to film.

You looked at Nick and Matt with tears in your eyes. You sighed and walked out the house, heading to the park that was close by. You sat under a large tree away from anyone and pulled your knees up, crying as you covered your face. You tried to think about why they got so angry. Were they stressed? Or were they just tired of you around?

Your mind wandered as your cries slowed down to a few tears and sniffles. You didn't notice the time until it seemed nobody was around. You checked your phone, seeing it had been over an hour since you had left.

You sat quietly, thinking of what to do. Should you go home? Would the guys still be angry? Should you call a friend? Or would they call your brothers? Or get a hotel? But you didn't have spare clothes.

So many more thoughts rattled through your head at once, that you didn't notice the three figures walking towards you. When you suddenly realised it was your brothers, your feet acted before your brain did. You shot up from your seated position, about to run, when Chris grabbed you, pulling you into a tight hug.

"I'm so fucking sorry! I....fuck. I don't know what came over me. I was just stressed and I know I shouldn't ever take it out on you. Fuck please, kid, I'm sorry." He rambled as he cried, holding you tightly.

"You....You hate me." You stuttered, as the heartbreaking sobs escaped your lips. The triplets all felt broken hearing you cry.

"No, no kid, no we don't. We're so sorry." Nick said, rubbing your back.

"Let's go home and talk about this." Matt suggested.

You nodded against Chris' chest. Not wanting to let go in case you tried to run again, Chris picked you up as you headed to the car. All of you got in as Matt drove home, the car was silent and you all soon arrived back.

When you went inside, the four of you sat on the sofa, nobody saying a word to start with. Your eyes stung with fresh tears, worried for more shouting.

"Hey...don't cry kid. We're so sorry. We just love you and as we said, it's our job to keep you safe. We've just been a bit stressed recently and know it's not fair to take it out on you. Fuck that was really wrong to do and we're going to try and manage better. We're so sorry." Nick said first.

"Do....Do you want me to go back to Boston?" You questioned.

"No, we love having you here!" Matt answered.

"It's my fault really. I'm sorry." Chris apologised again.

"As long as I'm not a burden, I'll stay around." You said.

"Fuck your far from a burden, please, we're sorry." Chris said again.

"I forgive you." You said, making your brothers smile and pulling you into a warm group hug. You knew they would be more careful from now on and you loved them too much to be angry.

[stevebabey]

part one, part two, part three. this a part four. this is so accidentally long but hickies as promised, w a brief return out touch starved steve <3 mwah!

Eddie is sure his kiss tastes of uncertainty.

He can’t help the way his lips betray his nervousness in their obvious restraint. He knows he had been far more enthusiastic last night, eagerness behind every kiss. This kiss is… softer. Shyer.

He can’t help it. Because even though Steve said yes, had maybe flattened Eddie’s heart by adding a please, Eddie’s still… unsure. Still worried. Still waiting for a punch to come because that’s what happens to boys who kiss boys.

But… Steve’s hands are still holding onto Eddie’s wrists, keeping them in their place where they cup Steve’s face so gently. When Eddie had leaned in, lips grazing Steve’s, he had felt the other’s tightening grip like a silent prayer, saying come close, stay close. Even now, the grip around Eddie’s wrists holds firm.

Though it’s the last thing he wants, Eddie breaks the kiss. He draws back, savouring the moment — the sweetness of Steve’s lips for what might be the final time — with his eyes shut tight. Did I do it right this time? He thinks, he hopes. Can I kiss you and keep you?

“I’m…” Steve starts, his voice a whisper. Eddie’s eyes open. His fingers flex along Steve’s jaw instinctively. “Really confused.” Steve admits quietly.

His face is reserved. Only slight ripples of anxiety peek through. The crinkle between his brows speaks of his abundance of confusion. Eddie’s eyes drink in every expression and he can’t stop help how his eyes catch back on Steve’s lips. He stares when Steve speaks.

“I thought you— I thought you didn’t want…”

“Didn’t want this?” Eddie echoes, with a tone of incredulity, eyes darting back up to look Steve in the eye. He punctuates the last word with another touch, the pad of his thumb touching Steve’s bottom lip bravely.

Steve shivers. His eyes flutter for a moment, in a way Eddie has come to know means his strange aversion to touch is flaring up but — but Steve’s hands keep Eddie from moving away when he tries. Steve nods slowly.

Eddie swallows — tries to push down the ache to kiss him again. They’re still twisted; Steve still doesn’t get it.

Neither does Eddie though. He can’t even imagine what Steve came over to apologise for. What mental gymnastics he had put himself through to somehow be the one who needs to apologise in this situation.

“Where the fuck,” Eddie breathes softly, with an appalled chuckle, letting Steve know he wasn’t mad. Wasn’t in the slightest bit annoyed, only confused. “Did you get that idea?”

Beneath his hands, Eddie can feel Steve’s cheeks grow hotter. The colour soon follows, a glorious crimson that fills the apples of his cheeks. And sure, fine, okay, sue Eddie if he enjoys the sight a little too much. Steve all flushed in the face, ears definitely warmer than they were a second ago.

Steve starts to stammer. “You— You sounded annoyed when I was leaving.” His brows are nearly touching in the middle, drawn together in concern. “I thought you were regretting—“

Eddie interrupts to clarify, suddenly aware of where they’d gotten so muddled. “I sounded annoyed because you were leaving, Steve. Not…”

Not because you asked for a kiss. Eddie’s throat dries up. He can’t say it aloud, not just yet. The words dance on the tip of his tongue. Eddie doesn’t trust himself not to fumble them.

Even though, Steve’s sudden departure had been due to a genuine misunderstanding, Eddie can’t— he’s not… He’s got to be realistic with himself, just in case. Not say too much too soon.

Steve reads into the silent lull in Eddie’s words and in an instant, his eyes are widening in understanding. Somehow, his cheeks glow even warmer.

“Oh,” Steve says, the word doused in relief, in understanding. “Oh my god—“

The rest of his sentence is lost as a car drives by, tires groaning loudly along the tar road. It serves as a quick reminder of where they are. In public, in such close proximity. Eddie steps back instantly, hands ripping away from Steve as a lick of panic runs up his spine. His eyes track the pale blue car down the road.

They were covered by the van but, still.

“C’mon,” Steve says softly, calling to catch his attention.

The panic wavers wildly for a moment before eventually relenting, Eddie dropping his shoulders as he turns back to Steve. He’s delighted to find Steve is no less red in the face.

Steve clears his throat, “We can call a tow back at yours.”

He gestures to his car, an invitation, with a smile. Eddie’s not even sure he’s meant to say something so reassuring; a mixture of the use of we and the implication Steve would come back home with him. Would come inside.

Eddie can’t help how he ogles at Steve. He’s doing another once-over to make sure Steve isn’t a mirage about to fade. Maybe Eddie had actually crashed his van when the engine spluttered on him and all this was a weird and extremely vivid coma dream.

Except, Steve doesn’t look perfect — not like a dream would.

Eddie can tell from the flatness of his hair, he likely didn’t sleep well. He’s got a tired but kind smile on. It’s shyer than Eddie’s ever seen before.

He’s still wearing that bright green Family Video vest for Christ’s sake — if Eddie was in a coma, he had some serious self-reflection to do if his brain picked this as his dream-Steve fit.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, with a nod and a smile of his own. “Lemme, uh, lemme just grab my stuff.”

Eddie turns to hide his face before Steve can see it grow into a wild frenzied smile, too gleeful to contain. He pops the driver’s side door and scurries around, grabbing all the essentials; cigarettes, lighters, and tapes with actual good music on them.

Steve’s waiting for him, still in the same spot when he slides the door shut. Eddie works the rusted lock to lock it up. No, Eddie thinks gleefully, this is not a dream.

-

Steve is surprised it’s not more awkward.

Not that he wants that— honestly, this sweet in-between phase where Eddie keeps glancing over at him, brown eyes longing and like he was checking if Steve was still there, as he talked on the phone, suited Steve just fine. More than fine.

And yeah, okay, maybe Steve swooned a bit when Eddie started twirling the cord of the phone, so much like a lovey-dovey teenage girl that Steve nearly laughed aloud. He wasn’t sure if Eddie even realised he was doing it. Just leant up against the wall, stealing glances at Steve — his fingers fiddling with the cord til they began looping it over and over.

Steve wouldn’t though— laugh at Eddie, that is. It feels pretty much impossible to do anything except sit with all his giddiness, just knowing that… his feelings for Eddie are mutual.

That Eddie hadn’t regretted the kisses in the slightest. That Eddie had wanted Steve for just as long.

It’s achingly sweet to look back on that first hug Steve had asked for — knowing they had both been toeing the line, trying desperately to keep their pining to themselves. Idiots, Steve scoffs to himself affectionately, they were both idiots.

Rerunning the memory of his hasty exit last night is less of a breezy memory. Steve doesn’t want to think too hard about what malicious ideas Eddie’s brain might have spun up to taunt himself.

He must’ve thought that Steve had left for entirely worse reasons. That the reason Steve hadn’t been able to look at him because he thought Eddie was… that he regretted… Steve shakes his head. None of those thoughts are pretty.

And, more importantly, they were untrue. Steve very much liked those kisses. His only regret that night was leaving the way he did. Honest, Steve would have more kisses if he could.

Something scorches across his heart delightfully because he can have more kisses — he just has to ask.

“Okay, thank you so much,” Eddie says appreciatively into the receiver. He dashes another look over at Steve, an apology in the form of his sorry grimace. He focuses back on the phone. “Yeah, I’ll be in tomorrow to see the damage. Thanks, again.”

He sets the phone back in the cradle and for a moment, Steve can’t see his face. Can’t see any of the nervous contemplation. Eddie finally seems to grasp his courage and spins, fixing Steve with a smile.

“Um,” He says, a nervous chuckle leaking through. Eddie moves closer but he moves all skittish, one of his sneakers catching on nothing. He stumbles just a bit, taking a quick seat on the couch arm beside Steve.

“Wh—“ Eddie starts to say. He huffs another nervous chuckle, one hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. “This might be a stupid question but what… now?”

Steve thinks for a moment. He’s considering how to go about this when Eddie blurts out in a hopeful tone— “More kissing?”

There’s an unspoken please. Steve revels in the blush that follows the words.

He smirks up at Eddie, eyes tracing the bloom of pink on his cheeks. “What? On the couch, like I’m some common whore?”

“You seemed to have no problem with it last time, my liege.” Eddie points out dramatically, all with a grin.

“And I have no intention of repeating last time.” Steve counters. Then frowns.

“Well, except for the good part.” He corrects himself. “The first part! Just- Christ, can we go to your room instead, please?”

Eddie’s on his feet in an instant. He brings his hand up to his forehead and gives a salute with enough force to rip his arm off. Then marches down the hall and disappears into his room without waiting for Steve.

Steve thinks the nerves might be getting to him.

He walks the steps he’s walked a hundred times before, crossing into Eddie’s room and pressing the door shut behind him.

Eddie’s sat on the bed, criss-cross apple sauce style. He’s kicked his sneakers off — one’s by Steve’s foot, the other on the other side of the room.

Steve swallows and toes off his own shoes. He approaches the bed, climbing on gingerly and folding his limbs to match Eddie. That familiar swoop of nerves sits oh-so present in the pit of his stomach. Steve tries to think of it as a good thing — it’s good to have something so good that he’s nervous in his excitement.

For a moment, they just sit. Staring at one another. One of Eddie’s fingers is digging into the rips of his jeans, toying with the loose strands. It gives away his restless energy.

Steve waits. He asked last time and he knows — he knows Eddie wants to kiss him. But a small part of him…

“Why is this so hard?” Eddie blurts out all of a sudden. Like before, the words seem like they’ve come out without Eddie realising, but he barrels on. “Shit, I’m so fucking nervous. You make me so nervous, Steve.”

Eddie’s eyes won’t settle. They dart around. Move from Steve’s eyes to his lips, down, to the bed sheet beneath them. Like he still isn’t sure if he’s truly allowed to look. His admission makes Steve sorta wanna roll over and scream into the pillow. In a good way.

“I’m— Me too," Steve admits, a smile curling at his lips. “The- fuck, the way I feel about you honestly scares me shitless.”

Eddie seems to be both chuffed and relieved at his words.

“But I… want to kiss you,” Steve says assuredly. The next sentence he poses as a question, words a little more hesitant. More nervous. “And… and you want to kiss me?”

Across the bed, Eddie grabs a piece of his hair, twisting it nervously as he pulls it to cover his face. His usual nervous tell. Steve can’t help how he breaks into a grin when Eddie nods fervently.

“Cool.” Steve breathes. Then mentally smacks himself for saying cool. He tries to recover but Eddie beats him to it, with a question of his own. “Can I kiss you now?”

Steve answers by shuffling closer, til their knees are touching and then — like beside the road earlier — mimics the touch Eddie had given him.

Hands on either side of Eddie’s face, gentle as they curl under his jaw. Steve can feel the curls of his hair tickling at his fingertips. Another inch forward and he’d be burying his hands in Eddie’s hair. Steve bookmarks that urge for later.

Eddie looks nervous. Steve is undoubtedly making it worse, taking his time like this. But he can’t help it.

He wants to look — wants to stare, wants to devour every detail of Eddie’s face. Commit it to memory so he can picture it with his eyelids closed. What Eddie Munson looks like while waiting for a kiss.

The amount of affection that swells in Steve’s chest hits like a sucker-punch, enough he sucks in a tiny breath. He can see the smallest quiver in Eddie’s lip.

“You gonna stare all day, Harrington?” Eddie teases, but it lacks conviction when the words wobble a bit.

“Just enjoying the view,” Steve remarks, and then, finally, he kisses Eddie.

It’s the floodgate. It’s a frenzy, kiss after kiss after kiss, the softness of them slipping away in lieu of making up for missed time. Steve kisses every apology onto Eddie’s lips and he receives forgiveness a dozen times back. It’s bliss.

Eddie’s a very enthusiastic partner, to say the least. He’s a little messier with his kisses, hands gripping the front of Steve’s shirt tightly, pressing forward in a way that pushes Steve back— but Steve certainly doesn’t mind. He removes his hands from Eddie’s face to lower himself back, elbows against the comforter as Eddie follows eagerly.

For a moment, a sprout of doubt pulls them apart. Eddie hovers, not getting too close. “This is… this is okay?”

Steve grabs him by the collar and tugs him down, meeting him in the middle for another kiss. It’s a fat unanimous yes. Something glows hot in his chest when Eddie smiles into the kiss. Grins even. In fact, he has to take a moment to cheese it out, his face tucked into hiding against the crook of Steve’s neck.

Steve doesn’t mind. His hand strokes idly over Eddie’s hair, twisting in with the curls. He lets him take his time, lets Eddie work back up the nerve to kiss him again, except— with a gasp, Steve squirms at the sudden kiss on his neck, hot and soft.

“I think you were the one overdue for a hickie,” Steve breathes, hands threading through Eddie’s hair gently. He doesn’t pull him away though; lets Eddie figure out the best way to scrape his teeth against Steve’s skin as best he likes.

“Uh huh,” Eddie murmurs, barely heard. He’s too distracted.

“Eddie,” Steve tries, but it comes out far too close to a sigh. He tries again, this time with a proper tug to pull Eddie back from him.

It’s a bit of leftover King Steve the way he manoeuvres the both of them, rolling deftly so it’s Eddie upon his back and Steve hovering above him. Eddie manages to look both impressed and disgruntled at once.

Steve doesn’t let him get a word out. The pale stretch of skin down Eddie’s neck has been calling his name for too long and Steve is hungry for it. He grants Eddie one, two, three more kisses on his lips before he’s moving down.

He’s just getting started, lips pressed to hot skin when it happens. Eddie’s hands move up, skirting barely up and under Steve’s shirt, fingers searching. The unpleasant aversion prickles under Steve’s skin.

He locks up. He’s unable to do anything but; it feels helpless even as he tries to shake it off but he knows, he knows Eddie can feel it as he grows rigid under the touch.

It’s worse when Eddie tries to reel his touch back in. Steve wants to cry with frustration because it’s not Eddie— it’s fucking him.

“Don’t,” Steve pleads, his hand diving down to catch Eddie’s wrist and holding it there. He knows Eddie’s watching him closely, even as Steve’s eyes scrunch shut and he fights to fend off the uncomfortable feeling attempting to make home under his skin.

“It’s…” Steve wills himself to look Eddie in the eye, hoping the sincerity bleeds through his words. “It’s not you, Eds. Just— fuck, just… give me a second, okay?”

He releases Eddie’s wrist. Eddie nods, a minuscule motion. His brown eyes are watching Steve closely, darting all over his face wildly and after a moment, they still on his lips. Eddie makes a decision and pushes forward, planting a tender kiss on the corner of Steve’s mouth.

“S’okay,” He assures. Then gives Steve another kiss, this time on the lips, slow and sweet. Steve drinks it in, tries to savour the feeling of being kissed by someone who wants him. Wants him in every way they can have him. It's maddening.

Eddie’s hand moves an inch cautiously, testing the waters as his fingertips trace the skin of Steve’s tummy. He doesn’t flinch when Steve stiffens up again.

Like he can sense the frustration building up in the other boy, he captures Steve’s lips with his gently. Whispers against them again as soothingly as he can. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

It’s like the words run across the raised hackles of Steve’s soul, soothing and seeping out the tension from every muscle. Steve can feel himself relax under the words. Feels something inside him wobble and then tip over, finally soothed, finally settled.

This time when Eddie’s hand grazes along his waist, Steve shivers in a good way— and leans in closer, kissing back. His hands clutch back at Eddie’s hair, raking through to grip it sweetly. He tugs, jerking Eddie’s chin up and exposing his throat.

“Can I…” Steve begins. It’s a tease.

“Shut up,” Eddie grinds out, hands fixed on Steve’s waist. Now he knows he can touch, that Steve isn’t tensing up or flinching away, his hands are rabid. Hungry. They crawl across the skin, leaving hot scorch marks behind that tingle delightfully. “This hickie is so overdue.”

Steve grins wolfishly.

Eddie’s neck is a thorough shade of violet by the time he’s done, chest heaving. He looks devilishly handsome when Steve pulls back to admire his work and he barely gets a moment before Eddie’s back on him, lips hot against Steve’s own.

“My go.”

This time when Steve’s getting ready to leave, he half-heartedly pulls on his shoes. It’s a pitiful attempt to slow down the inevitable. He can’t believe leaving is harder this time; maybe it’s more to do with the hickies adoring his own neck and collarbones.

“Hey, I-“ Steve starts, already feeling flush in the face. Eddie’s watching him pack his stuff up, still pink in the face, but so evidently content with himself. He’s laid back on the bed, arms crossed behind his head. He’s showing off the dark lovebites on his skin, neck craned proudly.

“Mm?” Eddie hums, a cheeky smile on his face.

“When I— Robin.” Steve says, flashing a hand to his neck. “She’s- she’s probably gonna ask.”

Steve swallows. He somehow gets the feeling Eddie already knows what he’s going to ask — that he’s waiting for him to say it. Eddie’s grin says as much.

“And when she does, I—“ Steve continues, one hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. The kisses on it tingle beneath his own touch. “Can I… call you my boyfriend?”

Eddie glows. It’s the only word for the excited laugh that punches out of him, like a gleeful goblin.

Steve thinks he might just be falling all over again when Eddie rolls over and buries his face in his pillow. He pretends for Eddie’s sake not to hear his muffled shout that’s almost a squeal. His cheeks are ruby red by the time he sticks his face back out, his grin so wide it makes his eyes crinkle in the corner.

“Yes,” Eddie says, voice giddy. “Yes, please.”

And Steve’s so fucking glad he asked for that stupid hug way back when, because got a gremlin-level of affectionate boyfriend now to show for it.

-

and that's likely a wrap on the can i series for now ! i had an inkling of an idea for future but tbh i wasn't supposed to write this i like have 7 other fics callin my name. but alas! thank u so very much for the love on this, whether sending kisses to my touch starved self or talking bout needing a hug too in the tags <3 hopefully this heals all the right places <3 mwah my loves

tags below:

@original-cypher @maya-custodios-dionach @uwujinniee @attic-cat-blog @immortal-iratze @anaibis @orangeandthefairroadkill @etaka @silversnaffles @invisibleflame812 @eddie-hero-munson @jesskier @princess-eddie @impeachy @estrellami-1 @bloomingconflagration @newtstabber @iwouldsail @sundead @darksmistress @sydstroons @leethegay @superchellerific @eddielives1986 @jinxjinn @breealtair @steddieassheg0es @loopholesinmydreams @savory-babby @alittlegreyfish @izzy2210 @em9515 @killjoy-patrixtump @mrspasser @spectrum-spectre

[inkdrinkerworld]

Dealer!remus and autistic!reader’s relationship starts off so rocky guys let me tell you!!! Angst to fluff

Remus doesn’t fully get that he can’t just say things- like he’s got to be deliberate and conscious of the words he uses and his tone.

He’s never had to do that before so it’s weird and it’s hard to learn and he slips up sometimes.

One of your biggest arguments happens when he’s frustrated and you’re just trying to help.

You’d seen him so sullen and moody on James’ story so you decided to do for him, what you do for yourself.

You baked.

But then you realized you’re not at the stage where you know his absolute favourite type of cookie so you go a little all out.

You bake chocolate chip biscoff cookies. Chocolate chip toffee cookies, regular chocolate chip and brown butter chocolate chip.

You set them in a cute box and you text Remus that you’re coming to see him. You’re thinking everything’s going to go well, you’re gonna drop the cookies off for him, maybe he’s going to tell you what’s bugging him- maybe not; either way he won’t be alone.

Except you get there and immediately you feel like you’re inconveniencing him.

Try as you might not to take it personally, it’s really hard because he seems particularly peeved at you.

“Why are you here?” His tone is sharp and jagged and it winds you a little.

“I brought you cookies to cheer you up. Saw that you weren’t yourself on James’ story,” you keep your tone even, light- a practiced thing from your days of dealing with people that didn’t quite get you.

“Why would that cheer me up?” At this point everything’s going downhill fast and you try to salvage what little is left of your deflated cheeriness and open up the box to display the array of cookies.

Remus at the same time waves his hand and the box goes pitching across his living room floor and he explodes.

You can’t remember the last time someone had yelled at you like that and honestly, it hurt more coming from Remus who was so normally relaxed and chilled.

You don’t even tell him goodbye, you just clean up all the mess while he’s cursing and yelling and then leave.

What’s twists the bloodied blade in the wound is that he doesn’t even try to stop you or reach out to you for three days.

By which point you’ve already gone mostly nonverbal and you’re in no mood to entertain or fake a personality for the sake of your friends when you do see them.

Remus stops at your house after you ignore three invitations to his place.

“Dove, I know you’re at home. Can you open the door please?” His voice is muffled through the hard wood of the door and you have half a kind to leave it shut- he’d been mean, he’d said things that were very hurtful now that you’ve actually processed what he’s said fully.

You don’t know if you can stand to see him. Then he knocks again, “I want to look at you when I apologise, sweet girl. Please open the door.” And the wholesale remorse in his tone shakes your core and you cave.

He steps inside with a box and three tulips. “I figured I’d have had to do it face to face for it to really mean anything and because I realized I was an absolute prick to you when you just came over to help.”

You don’t even hum. Usually, when he was nice Remus- as you’ve differentiated in your head - you’d be able to look him in the eyes every couple of words, but right now you just look over his shoulder.

“I shouldn’t have yelled or sworn at you like that. It wasn’t cool and I never want to speak to you like that- ever. I was an idiot and I just want to make up for it.”

There’s about a minute where Remus thinks he’s just fucked every single bit of progress you’ve both made with each other and then you let out a big breath.

“You can’t say things that you don’t mean just because you’re upset. What you said really hurt my feelings and I don’t like feeling the way you made me feel when you were that angry. If we continue to be friends you can’t do that because it makes it hard for me to trust you and find what you’re saying believable.”

Your voice is hoarse and crackly from lack of use and Remus feels even worse. “I’ll do better, I swear. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you- it’ll never be, but I am sorry that I did.”

You nod once, succinct and definitive. Remus holds out the box to you, showing a puzzle you’d been eyeing for a while.

“Can we build it together?” He asks softly, an ebb of vulnerability given away as you catch his eyes.

“Okay, but we have to do corners first, then work our way in.” Remus nods, his other hand holding the flowers for you. The tulips are a pristine white.

“The lady at the shop said they’re good for conveying apologies.”

You smile a little, “These ones are also for condolences.” Remus shakes his head,

“Not this time,” he watches you put them in a vase of water. “Also, ‘if we continue to be friends’, thought we were a little closer than friends, sweet girl?”

He relishes in the way you bite your lip to hide your grin as you take the puzzle box from him and set it up on your coffee table.

��Well I wasn’t sure if you wanted to acknowledge it or not.”

Remus says very seriously as he sits opposite you at the coffee table, ducking down so he can catch your eyes as you take out the numbered bags. “I’m always acknowledging it, we’re more than friends dove. When everything’s not so fucked, I’ll take you out and do it with pink and red lilies.”

[luveline]

i have a request idea! maybe aaron x reader where the reader is bullied/ being maltreated by her roommates like that one remus headcanon you filled? i love protective hotch but i get it if you don’t think this goes with him! your fics give me sm comfort thank you for writing them <3

thank you my love. fem, 1.5k

cw bullying/ unfriendly roommates

You can't believe it's Aaron's car. No way is his timing this bad. There's just no way he's home from a case, that he's chosen to visit without calling first, today. Right now. 

He's out of the car before you've so much as wiped your cheeks dry. You've never seen him park that fast. 

"What are you doing out here?" he asks, looking you up and down. "Let me help you up, sweetheart." 

Sweetheart so soon after seeing you —you must look terrible. You take his hand and stand up off of the floor, unperturbed as he brushes down your butt and thighs. 

"Why are you sitting on the floor?" he asks, soft, "It's wet, honey, you're crying– What's wrong?" 

You remember suddenly that you have someone on your side. Shaking, you tuck your arms under his and cross them behind his back, the fabric of his suit jacket familiar under your trembling fingers. You feel like a kid again at the mercy of other people's cruelty, but this hasn't been something you could run away from. The meanness takes root at home. But now Aaron's here and he's holding you, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head delicately, his voice a murmur as he reassures you, "It's alright." He presses his cheek to the plane just adjacent to your eye. "Honey, please don't cry." 

"They smashed my vase," you say into his chest. 

"Who?" 

"My roommates, Aaron, they don't– don't like me." The vase was a gift. Special to you, irreplaceable, you've brought it safely from one place to another without ever having broken it. It was in the kitchen, housing your most recent bouquet of flowers from Aaron. "Macy said it fell over, but they were laughing, and they said the same thing about my bag, my– my sketchbook. They keep ruining my things, they throw away my food, and they laugh at me all the time, even when I'm not doing anything. I know they are."  

The laughing is honestly the worst part. Like your reaction isn't even worth considering, it doesn't bother them that you're upset, they just giggle and tell you to feel better. Sometimes they apologise like it wasn't them. Sorry about that, maybe don't leave it somewhere it could get ruined? with a smile that hardly counts as sympathetic. 

"How long has this been happening?" he asks. 

Months. "Since we met, at least." 

Aaron makes a noise you don't understand. You wait for him to say more, but he only rubs your back diligently for a time before ushering you into the car. A bag of takeout has gone cold in the passenger seat, the backseat busy with his go bag and a new bouquet. He's very, very good to you. 

In the car, he reaches across the console to fret over you, stroking your damp cheeks and rubbing your shoulders. You feel as though all your energy has been stolen. All you can do is lean into his hand as he wipes away your quiet tears. 

—

Hotch watches you cry in his passenger seat and feels pretty angry. It's not often like him to turn to anger when the people he cares about are upset. He's more of a problem solver. But when it's as bad as it is now, he doesn't bother restraining himself. 

He knew there was something about your roommates that you weren't telling him. Obviously, as the partner in the relationship who doesn't have roommates, Hotch hosts the majority of your 'sleepovers'. It's easier and awards more privacy most of the time, and honestly, he's not at the age where he's very interested in bumping into people on the way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. He'd prefer to be home, and much prefer to have you there. 

He was wondering about asking you to move in, but there never seemed to be a good time, and right now your answer would likely be influenced by the insecurity of your home rather than true desire to live with him. He knows one day, he'll ask, and one day you'll say yes, (or he hopes), and so he keeps it in mind but otherwise proposes a temporary arrangement. 

"Let's go get some of your things and you can stay with me for a few days," he says. 

"Are you sure?" you ask. "What about Jack?" 

"He'll be happy for the company. Trust me." 

Hotch isn't shallow, but he likes being that little bit taller than you, and he's no brute, either, but he knows he's intimidating at times. He'd never use his position to scare private citizens in civilian disputes, but seeing the amusement in the eyes of your  roommates turn to nervous recognition when he follows in behind you makes his day. 

She's not alone, he thinks, putting his hand to your back. 

He might put their behaviour down to jealousy. Not so much that they wish they were with Hotch, there's hardly been any desire for him coming from either woman, but your happiness. You're a nice girl, a good girl, good in the sense that you don't need to knock others down to be happy. He treats you accordingly. 

He pointedly doesn't greet them as you show him the corridor down to your room. Your door is ajar, which he doesn't like, but you don't say anything about your things. 

"What do you need?" he asks.

"How long will I stay?" 

"However long you need to. If you want time to feel better while we manage this, or you need to move. I'm with you." He again thinks of the lack of a lock. "I'd say bring your valuables, honey. So nothing miraculously breaks." 

He ends up packing for you. He knows you well, and he's more than aware of what you'll need to survive for a week. What clothes, which pyjamas you favour, even your skincare. He has a career in identifying small details, but it's a better duty knowing you so well. He does that for fun. 

You stop by the door and turn into his side, hesitant to leave. He hates seeing you wilted, usually so bright. "They're talking about me." 

Your roommates are indeed whispering in the kitchen and Hotch would bet money that you're correct, but he doesn't want to encourage that line of thought. It could easily become a seed of doubt that leaves you anxious and paranoid. 

"I'd hope they were discussing their own bullying," he says. 

You rest your forehead on his arm. "What did I ever do to them?" 

"You're happy. You're grateful and loving, and some people can't stand it. They can't rope you into their misery," he guesses. "Have you considered the possibility that you're a bad roommate?" 

You laugh into his jacket reluctantly. "You know I'm not."

"Maybe you behave with me," he says, rubbing the top of your shoulder. Your laughter draws a silence in the kitchen. Hotch can't help himself. "Don't forget to turn your security camera on before we leave," he says, holding a finger over his lips. 

You smile. "Oh, I almost forgot about that." 

Your roommates aren't so full of cheer as you go. At least without a lock on the door, Hotch can be confident that his… bending of the truth will buy your possessions a few more days of safety. You don't have to tell your roommates that you're leaving, evidenced by your bags, but Hotch is feeling awful, and he says, "Do you have your bathing suit? Your passport's in the bag." 

"What is wrong with you?" you whisper through laughter as the door closes behind you both. "I had no idea you were this quick to tell lies." 

Hotch pulls your bag further up his arm to take your hand. "I wasn't lying about anything, your passport is in the bag, and I asked a question. If that question implies that you're about to have a fun weekend, that's coincidental." 

He doesn't want your roommates thinking they have any power over you. Not an inch of it. And he doesn't want you thinking that they do either, knee deep in plans for the forthcoming days. He's going to spoil you to death if he can, starting with a new vase for your waiting flowers, and a good squeeze on the way down to the car to prompt you into relaxing. 

"Sorry about all the fuss," you say. 

He kisses you twice. "Don't think of it that way." Rather boss-toned, he softens, "I'll deal with anything for you. I'm sorry they've been cruel." 

You exhale. He can tell from the tug of your eyebrows that it's partly for his benefit, and the more lax set of your shoulders that it's partly genuine as you brush it off. "Doesn't matter. Just an excuse to spend more time with you, yeah?" 

"Yes," he says immediately. "You're right, honey. Exactly right." Starting with one of his clumsy neck massages and a much more practised kiss, he thinks. 

[reverseexorcist]

❥ 𝐋𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ❥

Man, I support women's rights and all, but women's wrongs is where it's at. Like, I get she's meant to be awful and all, but what if I was her favourite?

➲ Lute + !F!Reader

➲ Romantic ☒, Platonic ☐

➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 1,424 Words

➲ Warnings/notes; Female reader, spoilers for episode 8, mentions and brief depictions of gore, mostly fluff though, my god I wanna write so much more of Lute but my ideas only get so far

➨ Okay, so first off, this woman is probably stoic as fuck - At least in the beginning of the relationship. Stiff and gruff because to her she's a warrior first and herself second. That's what she's had to be for the longest time ever, and it's gonna take a while for you to coax her out of her battle-hardened shell

➨ The kind've touch starved person that would rather die painfully than ever let someone touch her kind've vibe. Even when you're the exception, it's probably just better to ask before initiating anything just so you don't get socked in the face

➨ (She'll apologise, but probably wouldn't be able to stop because that's just her instinct)

➨ When she warms up to it though, oh boy

➨ "What is this?"

➨ "A hug?"

➨ "Disgusting… Do it again."

➨ (Gladly. Her wings are so soft and fluffy and perfect for hugging)

➨ Her wings will flutter softly, puffing up and getting extra fluffy at your touch as she practically melts into you. She'll deny it every single time, but you know the truth, especially when you hear her walk through the door after a long day at work only to be met with the audible 'poof' from the exorcist as her wings fluff up

➨ Speaking of, Lute takes pride in her wings. Very careful with them outside of battle and all, meticulously cleans and preens them at the beginning and end of every day and is a chronic stomach sleeper because of this. Probably has some expensive feather shampoo or cleaner or whatever that makes them smell like cedar. Whenever she ends up moulting, the floor of your apartment will be covered in black and white feathers

➨ (Don't tell her, but you've kept some of them)

➨ AND THE MUSCLES!

➨ Oh buddy boy does this woman have muscles

➨ Like, yeah, she's the lieutenant of the exorcist army of course she's gonna be buff, but it doesn't mean it's any less hot

➨ (If you're lucky she might let you feel 'em)

➨ Lute is secretly so proud whenever you gawk over her. Will flare her wings and pose for you, but only you and only ever in private. There's no way in heaven or hell that Lute wants Adam on her case about her peacocking around her girlfriend

➨ (You think she's the type to ask you to sit on her back while she's doing push-ups? I do)

➨ She tries her damned hardest to keep you away from Adam. The dude is cool, but she's already worn thin keeping up with his energy and antics. Lute's aware of his antics, especially around women and she'd rather not make you go through that. You are hers, after all. She may be Adam's right hand man (woman), but you're her life partner first and foremost

➨ Can't talk about Lute without mentioning that the WOMAN HAS AN UNDERCUT? Sorry, but women with undercuts are my weakness

➨ Just imagining hugging her, wrapping your arms snuggly around her shoulders as she swaddles you in her broad wings, only to reach up and fluff the fuzz of her undercut

➨ I mean, her hair is probably just as soft as her wings. At least with her hair she'd probably let you comb it or something. Wing touching is something very intimate in heaven, so that probably won't happen for a while

➨ When it does happen however ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

➨ Nah, just kidding. Wings are sensitive, but, y'know, you probably already know this because everyone in heaven has wings. It'll probably just be you preening each other as you both devolve into flustered puddles

➨ Love language is probably something alone the lines of acts of service (giving and receiving) or words of affirmation (receiving).

➨ Likes hugs and kisses are cool and all and she'll probably never say no (unless it's in public), but getting told by you that you find her laugh adorable or that her wings look awesome or something like that (or even something even sappier), my god her brain with blue screen of death before you snap her out of it

➨ It honestly makes her so happy. I mean, no one else really compliments her like that. Sure, she and Adam hype each other up, and her subordinates respect her. But Adam's humour is far from clean and she gets the feeling the other exorcists are kind've scared of her

➨ After a few years and just settling into the relationship, it gets to a point where Lute realises she probably wants to spend the rest of her life (unlife? Afterlife? Does it count if she never died?) with you

➨ If you're just a regular citizen of heaven (i.e. someone Lute can't tell about the exterminations), she's probably more likely to baby you about literally everything. Like, she's extremely protective, but not necessarily jealous, but you're just so fluffy and soft and she just has the innate urge to protect you

➨ There's a part of her that just so damn tempted to tell you for the sole fact that it's another opportunity to flaunt how great she is. The bigger, more logical part of her knows that you're more likely to be absolutely horrified and would most likely want to break up in that very moment

➨ Which is the exact opposite of what she wants

➨ On the other hand, if you're a fellow exorcist like herself, chances are there will be some favouritism in the ranks

➨ Kind've loves you for it, because at least this way she knows you can take care of yourself without her having to mother you. And, while some part of her certainly does like the idea of having a partner that sort've contrasts her in an opposites attract kind've way, she also really likes the idea of a girlfriend that she can spar with

➨ (Insert cliché moment during a fight where one person lands on top of the other and they both blush)

➨ Exorcist or not, though, she still has her helmet just hanging around the apartment. If you're an exorcist too, sometimes the two of you will just sort've sit around and polish them whilst talking, making sure they shine for the next time you descend to hell.

➨ If you're not, well, Lute struggles to come up with an excuse for the first time you see it, eventually labelling it as an odd gift from Adam. It doesn't come up in conversation again till she comes home late from the office (curse the seraphims and Adam alike for giving her so much paperwork) only to find you curled up in your shared bed, clutching her helmet to your chest

➨ (It couldn't of been comfortable, but Lute's cold heart melted ever so slightly at the sight)

(Spoilers for the finale)

➨ My god, if you weren't an exorcist at the end of season 1 and you saw Lute come back in the state she did - Immediate heart attack

➨ At first you were confused, because, well, she told you she'd be gone for the entire day and wouldn't be back until midnight. And yet, when the commotion outside started only to be followed by horrified gasps, you couldn't help but get anxious

➨ Winding through the panicked streets, you finally managed to make it to the front, only to see Lute staggering toward the high seraphim. Her gaze glossed over you, eyes narrowed into slits that burned with raging fire

➨ Not only was she covered in crimson, but her clothes were also stained with the brilliant gold of her own blood. If that didn't freak you out, you couldn't help but let a strangled scream tear from your throat at the sight of her missing arm

➨ That seemed to snap her out of it. She glanced past the extremely tall form of Sera and gave you a mixed look, one filled with regret and despair, rage and fatigue, and the slightest hint of warmth as your very presence calmed her. Too much shit had happened in the past hour or so for her

➨ However, her bedraggled form covered in her own blood and the blood of sinners alike was bound to spark more questions from your anxious mind, and Lute had the idea that if you reacted like this about her returning early from an extermination, you probably weren't going to be so receptive to what her job actually was…

Rules + Info,

Masterlist,

[justtwotired]

Hi! Could u do Sam and Colby x reader where they're exploring a haunted area and the reader has a panic attack due to a scare so they comfort

Ofc! Thank you for the request!

I did make the reader female because of some extra details, if you don’t like that please let me know I’ll change that for you<3

We just had a tour and our guide left afterwards. I would lie if I said I wasn’t nervous, I’ve never done this before.

“Alright, so our tour guide just left so we’re all alone, are you two ready?” Colby pointed the camera at Sam and me.

“Hell yeah!” Sam grinned and I just chuckled nervously. “I am rather nervous if I’m honest.” I said.

“And that’s totally fine, I mean, this is your first time, right?” Sam asked and I nodded. “It’s completely fine to be nervous or scared, I mean I can’t say I’m never scared in our own videos.” Colby said and I couldn’t help let out a small laugh.

“Alright then, where do we start?” I asked, putting my hands together.

“Well I’d say the children’s room, our guide said it was pretty active there and I mean, their children, it’s a good start,” Sam suggest and then looked at me.

“You’re a skeptic right?” He asked and I nodded. “Yes, I am a sceptic, but you know, maybe that’ll change today,” I grinned at the camera before Colby shut it off.

When we where in the children’s room he started it again and pointed it at Sam who would explain a bit.

“Alright so as the guide mentioned, there is quite a lot of activity here, mostly like toys moving, equipment going off and he mentioned knocks when you are in another room.” He summed up before Colby pointed the camera at me.

“He also said, they did really like females especially with long hair.” He said and Sam walked the frame taking some of my long locks of h/c hair in his hands and pointing at it. “Long hair.” He said and I chuckled.

“Let’s just hope they won’t cut it.” I said making them also laugh.

After the investigation in the room, we’re about to leave when I feel a strong tuck on my hair. I suck im a sharp breath and my hand shoots towards my head.

“Hey, hey what’s wrong?” Sam immediately notices something wrong. “Something just pulled my hair I’m not kidding,” I say and tears fill my eyes.

“Like an actual pull or just movement?” Sam asked curiously, not noticing my distress yet.

“No like someone actually grabbed it and pulled,” I said and my voice broke, making them realise something was wrong. “Hey, hey it’s alright.” Colby quickly walked over putting and arm around me.

“No, no I’m fine, I’m sorry,” I apologise. “Hey, no need to say sorry, it’s all fine.” Colby reassured. My sight was blurred and I could feel my hands shaking.

“Come, you should sit down for a moment.” Sam urges and I just sit down right on the ground, leaning against the wall.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, wiping my tears out of my eyes. “No, no it’s fine, it’s fine. Come breath, in and out alright.” I’m not sure who’s speaking to me but i try my best to listen, trying to take longer breaths.

“See, that’s better,” Colby says, rubbing my back. “I feel like I’m going to pass out.” I admit as I lean my head against the wall behind me.

“You’re not going to pass out, just keep talking to me, you’re going to be alright.” Sam reassures, sitting in front of me while holding my hands to stop them from shaking.

I take deep breaths in an out, trying to calm down while they keep reassuring me everything is going to be fine.

“I- I think I’m fine, we can continue.” I said after calming down a bit, I try to sit up but Sam stops me. “Wow, let’s get you some water first and then sit for a moment longer, we’re in no rush.” He tells me before standing up and walking towards the bags to get some water.

When he returns he hands me the bottle and I take a few sips.

“I’m sorry, I just- I already was overwhelmed and then that happened, it just freaked me out.” I said. “No it’s fine, really, you don’t have to apologise, its really fine.” Colby said, sitting next to me.

“Do you still want to continue? We can cut it short and get you back,” Sam asked but I shook my head. “No, we can continue, I’m fine.” I smiled.

“Alright, but if you want to leave just say so,” he tells me and I nod. “Can we cut me freaking out from the video, though? You can add the part where I just say what happened, just… not what happened after.” I say.

“Yes, of course, I think we actually immediately cut the camera’s.” Colby says and I breath out in relief.

“Alright then, let’s continue.”

[abiatackerman]

Shitty Words

Just imagine you and Levi giving silent treatment to each other after you two argued. It's not like you two actually argued... I mean Levi never argues... But he's too damn good with his words and he said something rude and insulting to you... Which made you sad, angry and leave the place.

Also not to mention skipping meals. This is the thing Levi hated. You would always blackmail him by this. Every time you're upset you would throw your anger on your meals and make your stomach suffer. He noticed you didn't take your dinner last night, and also spent the whole morning sleeping. So technically you skipped your breakfast too. And when you refused Petra's invitation for lunch..... His worries won against his pride and ego.

Because no matter how much he hated it.... He knew how damn stubborn you are and he's not letting you torture on yourself for some shitty words he said to you.

"You haven't eaten last night and also you skipped your breakfast. Even you woke up at 1 fucking pm today and refusing to take you lunch."

Levi speaks in his cold voice as he throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing and smacks your ass hard, making you yelp as he walks towards the main hall.

"I can walk, also what's with the smack?"

You ask angrily as you smack his back in response which felt nothing more than a little hard press on his strong back.

"That's for making me worry, idiot."

He grumbles, carrying you as he finally arrives at the hall, setting you down on a chair as he sets a tray down onto the table, a small frown forming on his face.

"You didn't have to carry me!"

You groan in annoyance.

"Hush or I'll smack your ass again."

Levi snaps back, pushing the tray of food towards you as he sits.

"And I'll smack you back. Also I won't eat. I'm mad at you and I need space so don't bother me."

You say, crossing your arms and turn your face away from Levi. Which felt so damn adorable and cute to him.

"Oi, you brat!"

Levi snaps as he grabs the back of your head, pulling you towards himself before slamming his lips against yours for a kiss, wrapping his arms around you as he pulls you to sit on his lap.

Levi keeps kissing, making the kiss deeper as he gently bites your lip, trying to make you feel bad for worrying him. Pulling back, he rests his forehead against yours for a moment before gently pressing a kiss on your forehead.

"I'm sorry for the shitty words… but I don't want anything bad to happen to you, idiot."

His words make you finally feel like you've won the battle. And that's when you feel the hunger in your stomach.

"Well, you should've apologised earlier.... I didn't eat for fucking 24 hours... I'm hungry as hell!"

"Then eat, stupid."

He rolls his eyes softly, gently shoving the tray in front of you as he lets you get off his lap. You sit beside him and start eating immediately.

"Well, I'm sorry for acting like a brat too."

You speak with your mouth stuffed with food. It results a gentle flicking to your head from Levi.

"If you keep talking with your mouth full, food will fall out, idiot. Don't speak until you swallow."

You roll your eyes.

"First of all, none of them fell. And secondly, no... Your insults are definitely not hot."

Well it is, at least to you.... But you'll never admit it.....