#ive barely had a chance to even think about my fic :(

[bratphilia]

glass window (w. afton x reader)

request: "POOHKIE BEAR HEAR ME OUT!!!! dad's best friend!william. y'all just moved into the neigborhood, and you've been oh so busy with college/working that you hadn't had the time to introduce yourself to william (tho steve for the sake of keeping his identity yada yada) and so like, the moment you get the chance to? william aka steve cannot contain his thoughts abt you oml !! ur just so fucking pretty !! delicate !! those fucking skirts you wear, in the summers of utah (i think thats where the movie/fnaf location is canonically) he'd so.. hungry for you.. bonus points if theres a height/size difference omg JUST HEAR ME OUT POOHKIE!!!- i'll be going under as the 🧚‍♀️ anon!"

note: okay yeah i went a lil crazy with this one but i just loved this request sm. probably my favorite fic ive written so far.

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader

tags: age gap (reader is college age 18-21 and william is 45-50), creepy and stalking behavior from william, oral sex (m + f receiving), slight dubcon, doggy style, mating press, multiple orgasms, william having insane stamina at his age

you and your parents just moved to hurricane, utah, aka the most boring town you've ever been to. the second day in your new house, while you were at your criminology class, your neighbor, steve raglan came by to welcome your family to the neighborhood. they mentioned having a college aged daughter. he didn't think much about at the time. it was a passing comment after all.

a few weeks pass by and steve started to become a frequent visitor to your household. however, each of those times you have either been at school or at work. he had no idea who you are.

that is, until one day you come home in the evening after a class while steve is over having a glass of wine with your dad. you close the door behind you to see the door to the backyard open. curiously, you poke your head out and spot your dad with an unfamiliar face, and you stand shyly in the doorway expectantly.

"hey, sweetie," your dad says. "this is steve raglan. our next door neighbor i was telling you about."

you walk towards him when steve holds his hand out for you to shake. "nice to meet you, mr. raglan."

mr. raglan. his ears practically perk up at that. he drinks in your appearance. you're wearing a black, short tennis skirt that stops mid-thigh with a pretty white blouse.

"nice to meet you too," he says politely, trying his hardest not to come across as creepy.

your dad turns to you. "how was class?"

"it was okay. i do have a lot of homework to do, so i should probably go," you say, then turn to steve and wave as you go, "it was nice to meet you again."

his eyes never leave your bare legs as you walk away. and well, he wanted to fucking ruin you.

steve notices something interesting about you while mowing the lawn. there's a gate in the back of your house where he can see a glass door from the angle he's at in the front of his yard. a glass door that, he discovers, is the back entrance to your bedroom.

he decides to make good use of his porch.

at this point, he contemplates buying a pair of binoculars, but that felt like a little too much. for now, he had the view he needed to satisfy him. he even took a few photos that he saves for material to use in his personal time.

unbeknownst to you, steve is absolutely obsessed with you.

his heart skips a beat every time you take a walk in the neighborhood, when, coincidentally, he's sitting on the porch pretending to read a newspaper, and you wave at him and smile. he always returns your smile and waves back kindly.

one day, when you're walking past his house, he notices something gold falling to the ground. when you're out of sight, he goes to investigate, only to find a gold ring that could have only belonged to you. the perfect opportunity. steve waits about a week and keeps your ring with him on top of his nightstand.

sometimes, he notices you like to leave your door open on a particularly hot day. surely you couldn't be naïve to think no one would break in, right? you're just so pretty, who knows who could follow you home from the shadows.

on one particularly hot day, you leave your door open. almost invitingly. and steve watches as your mom's car passes by his house, going out, while he knows for a fact that your dad is working. it's his time to strike.

steve makes his way across the street and through the back gate. he looks through the window to find you reading a book while sitting on your bed. he taps on the glass to get your attention. your eyes snap from the book to the door to see him standing there.

"hi, uhm, can i help you, mr. raglan?" you say, getting up. you look shocked, clearly a little freaked out he came through the back of your house, he presumes.

steve smiles and walks in uninvited, making you back up a little as he steps closer. "hi stranger, i just wanted to return something of yours that you dropped a few days ago."

he turns up the ring in his hand and watches your eyes widen. "i've been looking all over for this! thank you so much."

steve watches as you take the ring from his palm and slip it back on your finger. "you know, i've been wondering something."

you look up at him. "what's that?"

he chuckles lightly and closes the door behind him. "i can't help but notice that you like to leave your door open, and i just wonder how you possibly think that's safe for you."

"i—i don't know what you mean," you say, confused. you fidget with ring on your finger nervously, not liking the direction this conversation is going in.

"well, you know just about anyone could come in here and take advantage of you. you wouldn't want that, hmm?" he asks, stepping towards you and cupping your jaw. "or maybe you would. is that why you do it?"

you inhale. "mr. raglan, i don't think this is appropriate—"

"neither is the way you've been teasing me, little girl," steve retorts and you flash him a scandalized look. "oh, come on, don't think i don't notice. your short skirts showing off that even tinier figure and the way you always seem so eager to get my attention. i know the game you're playing."

he cups your jaw as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip for entrance. you grant him access and he slips his tongue into your mouth. it's a slow, sensual kiss. you're moaning into his mouth as he takes full control. 

steve's hands travel from your face, to your waist, and to your ass to squeeze. you whimper into his mouth and he laughs lowly against you. 

slowly he breaks away from you. "take off your clothes and get on the bed on all fours. now." 

you make a show of taking off your clothes for him. you keep eye contact with him as you unbutton your shirt and discard it mindlessly. then you reach around your back to unclasp your bra, baring your chest to him.

"beautiful," he comments. "take off your panties but keep the skirt on." 

you do what he says and get in the lewd position steve requested a moment ago, mind racing with what he would possibly do to you. you grip the sheets almost nervously and rub your thighs together to relieve the tension in your core. 

steve practically saunters over to you and gives a low whistle. "such a pretty pussy." 

you blush realizing your skirt rode up to your waist. you shiver when he places a cold hand on your ass, kneeding it roughly. 

"ooh," you moan, arching your back needily, making him laugh.

"need it that bad, huh, baby?" 

"yes," you say quietly, turning head around to look at him. 

"don't worry, honey, i'll take good care of you," he says with a twisted smile. 

he leans forward to press a kiss on your slit, moaning at the wetness that drips onto his lips. he wastes absolutely no time eating you out and laps at your pussy like a starving man. you can't bear to look at him anymore, the obscene noises of him slurping causing your face to burn with embarrassment.

you can't help but push back against his face much to his delight. you can feel his beard scratching against you, as delicious as you imagined. the friction of him smothering his face into you is making you whimper and moan helplessly. you wish you could grasp onto him or close your thighs, but this position and being completely at his disposal makes it all the more hotter.

he smacks kisses on your clit, sucking and rolling the sensitive nub around with his tongue. one particular harsh suck where he tugs on your clit ever so gently with his teeth has you coming on his face. he keeps going until you're squirming and begging him to stop.

he pulls away from you almost remorsefully. "thanks for the meal, babe," he says, wiping his mouth. something that would have otherwise made you cringe in disgust if it didn't come from him.

"ready for my cock, sweet girl?" he asks.

you can only murmur out a "mhm" as you were already too fucked out to verbalize anything.

he just laughs at your disposition. "don't get too tired on me yet, sweetheart, i still have so much planned for you."

the clinking of metal gets you excited all over again. he pushes into you with a groan. "fuckin' tight like a vice," he curses.

he thrusts into you experimentally, gaging your reaction for which angle makes you moan the loudest. when he finds the right one, he picks up the tempo instantly. your room is filled with the noises of his balls smacking against your ass, his grunts and your incessant moaning. he wraps a hand in your hair and the other rests on your hip for leverage.

"you like that, baby? like the feeling of me inside you?" steve asks you teasingly but you can barely respond. "fuck, you feel so good around me. my good girl."

"please, let me come," you whine desperately, bucking your hips backwards so it meets his thrusts.

"i will, honey, i will."

suddenly he flips you over so you're on your back and bends your legs in half. the manhandling is an added bonus. "i want you to look at me when you come, okay?"

"okay..." you mumble, letting him use your pussy for whatever he pleases at this point.

one specifically hard and calculated thrust has you reeling. your orgasm is definitely in sight. you can feel your stomach begin to coil, ready to snap.

"mr. raglan!" you draw out the syllables of his name, signifying you're close.

"ngh — keep calling me that, honey, it's so fuckin' hot."

you can feel him close as well as his grunts and groans grow louder and his thrusts get more erratic and shallow. he decides to drill into you even harder for the sake of your own orgasm, making you almost scream out his name as you squeeze your eyes shut and come.

he pulls out before he finishes and beckons you over to him. "suck me dry, baby. want you to taste yourself on me when i come."

tiredly, you sit up and take is cock into your mouth. since he's already close he takes the initiative to thrust into your mouth while you gag around him. the noises you're making only add to his arousal.

he's grunting incoherent dirty praises, about how good and tight your mouth feels, and how you're such a good girl for him. he comes with one final, drawn out groan as he throws his head back. spurts of his ejaculate shoot down your throat and you try your best to swallow what he gives you, but some dribble down your chin.

you pull your mouth off of him and he brings his lips to your for another kiss, licking the remnants of his orgasm from your lips and chin. when you pull away breathlessly he's grinning from ear to ear.

"so good f'me," he compliments sweetly, making you smile.

maybe hurricane isn't so bad after all.

[jenscx]

HAPPINESS — yu jimin x f!reader

jimin made you feel like life was worth living for.

TAGS — situationship, strangers to lovers, ive member!yn, jealousy, angst, fluff, birthday fic for jimin

WORDCOUNT — 3.8k

it hadn’t been long since you and karina met. by luck, she was attending a fashion show and had gravitated to you during the after-party. it was an unforgettable experience; one of the most gorgeous idols constantly hovering around you, eyes lingering on the silky black, backless dress you adorned, fingers dancing across your arms… needless to say, you had immediately asked for her contact information, only to receive a cryptic smile in return.

“why not just,” she whispered, “come back to my place instead?”

you had instantly declined, “i’m sorry, i don’t do that. and don’t you live with your members anyway?” karina merely shrugged, eyes twinkling with a gleam you couldn’t name. 

“then shouldn’t we go back to yours?”

exasperated, you shake your head, “i just said, i don’t do that. i was interested before, and you are jaw-droppingly beautiful, but i’m not intending to go anywhere tonight, karina.”

the girl hesitated for a few seconds. you raised an eyebrow. she grins, “call me jimin.”

it had only been a month since that interaction. since then, your relationship has progressed. from strangers to friends and now tethering on the edge of a relationship. or as your member yujin had described, a ‘situationship’. it was so easy to open up to jimin, her sweet talk, midnight chats and relentless insistence to annoy you had captured your attention. she was so stupidly cute. 

you had fallen. 

and jimin seemed to have as well. 

no one would stay up till midnight talking to a situationship unless they really liked them, right? 

and even though jimin had a schedule the next day, you and her were still in a heated discussion about which ice cream flavour was the superior one (it was always vanilla).

the alarm on your phone rang. in bright words read, ‘milan fashion show.’ you smile to yourself. it was another chance to see jimin after her hectic schedule. you barely had time to see her during her break, and now your schedules finally matched up. you couldn’t wait to see her.

jiminie [7.41am]:

hihihi good morning

i’ll see u ltr :))

ynie [8.20am]:

morning!

can’t wait. 

you turn your phone off with a bright grin, barely keeping your excitement under wraps. your flight was at 10 and by the time you reached milan, it would be around 11 in the evening. it was going to be a long flight, but the thought of seeing jimin again made your stomach tighten up. was this what people in relationships feel? it was so bizarre that the simple thought of someone could so easily make you feel breathless. 

unable to contain your exhilaration, you get some weird stares from your manager and assistants. meekly apologising, you close your eyes as they drive to the airport, dreaming of a certain main dancer.

you blink. how did you get here?

jimin, was just standing a few feet away from you, but she had barely spared you a glance the whole day. she didn’t even greet you or anything. even after the crew had asked for you two to stand together, jimin was at least a metre away, not daring to stand in your vicinity. you could cry.

especially with the heart eyes every other person was sending her way. you swallow the lump in your throat, staring at the man who stood a little close for comfort next to her. and throughout the show, you could only stare longingly at the back of her head, sighing every once in a while when the two of them would pose. it was devastating.

“you good?” one of the other attendants asked. you think you recognise them from a recent drama you’ve watched.

“yeah,” you mumble, taking a sip of the champagne in your glass. at the corner of your eye, you could see jimin and that man conversing, both sharing giggles and whispers. your grip on the glass tightens. groaning, you look away, trying to hide the hurt on your face from being ignored so obviously. all your attempts at conversation had been shut down and she brushed past all your waves.

you saunter to the corner, taking a seat and pulling out your phone.

yujin [9.27pm]:

how’s it gg

yn [10.14pm]:

it’s like i don’t even exist.

i don’t know what i should do

she keeps talking to some guy

yujin [10.15pm]:

girl gtfo

you agree with yujin. if karina wanted to ignore you, so be it. there was nothing for you to do anyway. after sending a quick message to your manager, you get back up, heading back to the group of actors and idols alike that were engaged in conversation.

coincidentally, karina and her partner for the night had joined as well. it wasn’t difficult to avoid eye contact when she wouldn’t even look in your direction.

“i’ve requested for more champagne,” one of them say, “anybody wants a refill?”

a murmur of chorus emerges.

the waiter stares at your glass expectantly, the bottle in his hand waiting.

“ah… no, i’m leaving soon,” you say awkwardly, handing your glass to another waiter passing by. karina’s head shoots up.

“shame,” they all agree.

“your manager’s picking you up?” karina finally speaks. you longed for her voice, but you’re not very appreciative of it now.

you nod, barely wanting to start a conversation with the girl.

“i’ll walk you out.”

can you really refuse in front of all these people? you already had a reputation of being a bitch. refusing karina’s offer was going to severely damage your image.

you just hold your tongue.

the cold air greets you warmly, unlike karina. you relish in the gusts of wind, waiting patiently outside the gala for your manager’s distinguishable car. karina hums a gentle tune, turning to you.

“how was the show?”

“good,” you reply, curt.

karina doesn’t back down.

“you had fun?” you nod.

“i didn’t get to talk to you at all, it’s sad you’re leaving now.”

you shrug.

“why are you leaving so early?”

“tired.”

“hm, okay.”

you stand in silence while karina fidgets beside you, her hands constantly twirling her hair and eyes darting around. cursing yourself, you take a quick glance at her. the girl’s deep, lush and dark hair flows charmingly in the wind. her eyes draw you in, hypnotising you deeply, full of uncertainty and hesitance for the first time you’ve met her.

“do you have something to say?” you ask. karina huffs, blowing her bangs covering her eyes.

“i do, but it just depends if you’ll listen to me.”

“depends on what you’re asking for,” you reply.

karina smiles, smaller than before, “stay. just for a few more minutes. with me.”

you contemplate. just for a few minutes.

“only until my manager comes.”

she falters, it’s the first time you’ve ever subtly rejected her company, but a practised mask of indifference is put on.

there’s an uncomfortable silence, one that neither of you are willing to acknowledge. you start to regret your decision; you should have just asked her to go back in, instead of waiting out here with you like a fool.

“minjeong’s been talking about this milan cathedral, called duomo di milano, it’s really pretty,” karina looks at you expectantly, “do you have the day off tomorrow for sightseeing?”

you answer slowly, “i do have the day off...”

“where are you staying? i’ll come pick you up.”

“but i don’t want to go, karina,” you complete your sentence. shock passes her face rather quickly.

“uhm, do you want to go somewhere else?”

you shake your head, wanting her to get the hint that you weren’t exactly jumping for the opportunity to hang out.

“we could go shopping at this galleria that aeri mentioned, it has a hotel and everything.”

“no, thanks for offering.”

karina’s tethering on the edge of distress, her face showing visible distraught by now, no longer caring to hide behind a mask of impassiveness. you check your phone again. notifications line your lock screen, most of them coming from yujin.

yujin [10.29pm]:

are u out of there yet

make sure to get back safe

also call me ltr i need to tell u smth

omg jiwon js told me she left seo at home alone

you smile at yujin messages. the leader’s caring nature makes your heart warm and the mention of your other members makes you miss them.

“your manager texting you?” karina asks.

“uh, no,” you reply vaguely, not very keen on talking to her. karina frowns.

“are you sick? do you feel unwell?” she lifts a hand up to touch your neck. the fleeting touch of her fingers already caused goosebumps against your skin.

“i’m fine, karina.”

the mention of her name makes her glare at you, “didn’t i say to call me jimin?”

unable to answer coherently, you settle for silence. karina huffs, seemingly getting irritated.

she opens her mouth once again, but the honk of a car distracts you. the window rolls down and you recognise your manager.

“thanks for uhm, staying here with me,” you bow, “have a good night.” you were upset, but that wouldn’t stop you from being polite.

karina merely watches you leave.

your manager gives you about five minutes of peace and tranquillity before unleashing an onslaught of questions onto you, like “why’d you leave?” or “did someone say something to you?” you answer truthfully to most of his questions.

unable to get a proper response, he just drives back and tells you to not get into any trouble on your day-off.

(“what trouble would i even get into?”

“i’ll actually quit if dispatch posts a photo of you drinking with your friends.”

“that would be impossible since i don’t have any friends.”)

meanwhile, yujin fills you in on the stupid shit your members get up to during your absence. like rei putting aluminium into the microwave and wonyoung just managing to stop her in time.

your phone lights up with notifications throughout the night and you hate the fact that it doesn’t bring you the same excitement like before. the morning after, a chain of messages graces your phone.

jiminie [9.17am]:

are u awake?

jiminie [9.20am]:

when are u gg back to korea?

hello?

ynie [9.31am]:

tmrw

jiminie [9.31am]:

do u feel like gg out tdy?

you turn off your phone, sighing. you would have felt bad for being so distant but the mere thought of karina with that guy yesterday night made you feel unneeded. why was she texting you and asking to hang out with you when she already had someone to go to?

there was no point overthinking about her.

karina would just be another failed situationship. she didn’t mean that much to you (she did). she wasn’t the first thing you thought of once you woke up (she was). and she definitely couldn’t be a good girlfriend for you (she definitely could be).

the hotel doorbell rings. you quirk an eyebrow, not remembering ever ordering room service. maybe your manager knew you wouldn’t be going out for breakfast.

you don’t bother checking the peephole, the hotel you were staying at was very tight on security and only celebrities stayed at this floor. you open the door, stomach grumbling at the thought of food.

“yn.”

oh.

karina stands at your door, a small smile on her face. you feel terribly underdressed compared to her in your bathrobe and messy bed hair.

“good morning,” you greet hoarsely.

“hurry up and get dressed.”

you stop karina from entering your room.

“what are you talking about?”

“we’re going out whether you like it or not. you shouldn’t rot in your room, you should be exploring milan, before you leave, with me.”

do you really have a choice to say no? (yes, you do).

in your heart, you knew in the end, you wouldn’t ever say no to karina.

“okay.”

she grins and you forget why you were even upset in the first place.

karina waits patiently while you finish getting ready. she’s on the balcony admiring the view when you’re done.

“where are we going?” you grab a mask and a cap as karina puts on her shoes again.

“it’s a surprise, and you don’t need those,” karina answers, pointing at the items in your hand. you frown.

“people will recognise me. they’ll see me with you.”

karina shakes her head, “it’s fine, i don’t mind it.”

i mind it though.

you end up leaving them by your bedside table.

“where are we going?” you repeat as karina drags you out of the door. she groans, “stop asking! i already told you it’s a surprise.”

“i need to tell my manager.”

karina pouts, “i’ve already contacted him, just stop worrying about everything.”

her words seem so easy to believe now. to stop worrying about everything.

the streets of milan are filled with cafes and luxury brands. with it being one of the most visited cities, tourists and locals alike roam the area. at every corner, there’s either an art gallery or museum. you must admit that the architecture is simply amazing. quaint bookstores and coffee shops provide a sense of peace away from the bustling metropolitan city. milan was beautiful.

karina pulls you into a cafe, the strong aroma of coffee already filling your senses. there’s a quiet ambience of chatter and the soft footsteps of the waiters walking around. the girl brings you to one of the tables near the window. it gives you a view of a clothing shop adjacent to the cafe, full of customers.

“milan’s called a fashion capital,” karina remarks, “it’s one of europe’s most dynamic cities.” when you don’t reply, karina stands up, awkwardly saying, “i’ll go order our food.”

you nod.

she comes back soon, red in the face and fumbling with her wallet.

you ignore it.

“uhm, anyway, did you sleep well last night?”

“yeah.”

“okay… uh, what time is your flight tomorrow?”

“i think it’s in the morning,” you feel pity for karina who’s been desperately trying to keep the conversation going, “what about you?”

karina’s face lights up, “it’s at one in the afternoon.”

the waiter soon arrives with your food. its mouth-watering. karina hands the waiter a note and says something in italian that you don’t understand.

“you can speak italian?” you ask, curiosity taking over you.

“yeah, a little,” karina mumbles. she doesn’t seem to want to elaborate, so you don’t bother asking any more. you gorge yourself out with the pastries that karina ordered, all while she looks a little constipated and unsure.

“you’re not going to eat?”

“i… i already ate before coming here.”

you nod, continuing to chew.

“it’s so early, who’s awake to even eat with?”

karina mutters, “i ate with jaewook.” you swallow the piece of bread in your mouth. the sweetness you tasted on your tongue is gone, just left with a bitter taste. you regret even asking her. you regret coming out of your hotel to eat pastries with her at 9 in the morning.

your head feels clouded. it’s not only gravity pulling you down. it’s a wrangling chain clutching your heart, pulling it into your stomach. the more you think about karina and that guy together, the more you feel like puking out all the sweet treats you stuffed your mouth with. you wanted to get rid of anything related to her.

“are you okay?” she asks.

no, you want to reply.

“i wanna go back,” you say instead.

lying was always better than telling her the truth.

“what? no, uhm,” karina blurts out, panicked, “you can’t go back yet, we still have a lot to sightsee.”

“please let me go back,” you beg, feeling a wave of nausea take over. between her incessant pleading to not leave and the vision of the two of them, jealousy fills your every vein.

“i planned a lot for today and oh my god, yn—” you can’t stand it anymore.

swiftly, you take out a wad of cash, placing it on the table and leaving the cafe without a second look behind. you stomp out quick, steady steps back to the hotel and you can feel karina hot on your heels. she calls out for your name, but to no avail do you turn back. you think of a plan. once you get back to your room, you’re going to block karina on everything. she’s never going to exist in your life ever again. if your job requires you to interact with her, it’s a bare minimum. you’ll break off contact with all of your mutual friends, ryujin, minjeong, maybe chaewon (but yujin and wonyoung would kill you).

it’s only when you reach a traffic light that karina catches up with you. once it flashes red, you groan. you can basically see karina’s triumphant smirk at the corner of your eye.

“are you done running now?”

you take a good look at karina. she’s panting, not more than you are, and her cheeks are flushed red.

the light flashes green.

“no.”

and the chase begins again.

karina tails you until you reach the hotel lobby. you open up your purse, searching for the keycard. karina is just a few steps behind.

you hear gasps of recognition behind you, the very reason you wanted to cover up your identity.

the moment the lift reaches the ground floor, you slide in, rapidly pressing the close button. karina, however, navigates through the crowd and manages to reach the lift in time.

you groan, your attempt at running away has failed. maybe you could still convince karina to leave you alone somehow. she wouldn’t try to break into your room, right?

“this is awkward now.”

“yeah, i wasn’t expecting you to follow me,” you sneer, “if a woman says she wants to leave, just let her leave for god’s sake.”

“okay, that’s my fault but you literally left out of nowhere, and you’ve been acting weird ever since last night,” karina argues back.

the lift beeps. you exit it with karina following you closely behind, still ongoing about your sudden change in behaviour.

“like last night, you left early and we didn’t even have time to talk or anything, and when i asked you about it you didn’t even explain anything?! just brushed me off and left! can you just tell me what’s going on?”

you two reach your room.

“i don’t need to explain myself to you. i said i was tired.”

“okay, but what about today? i planned the whole day for us to hang out and you just got up and left? what the hell! are you just an asshole who plays with people’s feelings? you told me you ‘can’t wait to see me’ and then just left like that,” karina raises her voice. a elderly couple passes you two and you feel self-conscious. you were just standing outside your room letting karina yell at you.

“come in then yell, you’re getting weird looks.”

karina inhales sharply, finally calming down.

you sit down on one of the lounge chairs, taking a deep breath.

“i really don’t have anything to explain to you. i’m sorry. and i’m not the one playing with people’s feelings here.”

“what? are you insinuating that i’m the one playing with your feelings?”

“uh, if the shoe fits?”

karina slaps your arm, “are you serious right now? can you just talk to me for once?! is this your first time being friends with someone?” friends? since when were you ever just friends with karina?

“no, it isn’t,” you swallow, “it’s my first time feeling this way for someone.”

“what?”

“do you know how many times i think about you in a day? it’s once, because i never stop. it hurts me every time i see you with someone else and i know i shouldn’t feel this way because while you reside in my mind, i have to hope that I cross yours once in a while to feel less pathetic of myself. do you know how that feels? to want to exist in someone’s thoughts. i feel happy just to know that you’re even acknowledging my presence. but you didn’t. you didn’t even care when i was there, so you shouldn’t care when i’m not,” the weight of unshed tears came pouring out. you let out a watery but hollow laugh. karina makes your heart ache, she makes you feel defeated and useless, she makes you feel angry and jealous.

“you make me feel that life is worth living for. that i went through all those torturous years just to meet you.”

karina, is life in itself.

“and i don’t think i’ll ever be able to find someone else that makes me feel this way. have you ever felt that way about someone?”

she stares at you, unblinking. she comes to terms with your words finally.

“i’m sorry,” she says.

“it’s fine,” you sniffle, wiping your tears.

“i’m sorry i hurt you.”

“of course you’ll hurt me. of course we’ll hurt each other, because this is the condition of living. and what’s not love, if not living for each other?”

“i didn’t know you felt that way about me.”

you sigh, “regret is a stupid thing. when you reject me, i would be better off knowing that we wouldn’t work out because you don’t like me, rather than me not telling you and wondering if we would ever work out. and you’re with that guy anyway.”

“who told you i would reject you? and who said i was with him?”

“oh.”

“i feel everything that you’ve just said, about you. and i’m upset that you were planning to just throw me away like that because of our inability to communicate.”

you laugh, more heartily this time, “i just didn’t want to be one of your conquests or whatever.”

“you’re more than one of my conquests. i wouldn’t dream of even letting you go. some people search their whole lives to find what i found in you. you can be assured that i won’t ever let you go.”

her sincere words draw red to your cheeks, warmth spreads from your neck to the tip of your ears. “you still like me,” you repeat, “even when i’m a jealous freak, have commitment issues and i care too much?”

“even with all those traits. if you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be the yn i like,” karina’s voice softens as does her touch. she takes your hand in hers, caressing the back of your hand with her palm.

“even if i don’t understand why you get angry and why you ignore me, i still like you. that’s what makes you, you. and love is all about understanding.”

you nod. all the crying has made you feel drowsy, and your fatigue is apparent, since karina smiles in amusement and says, “wash up and take a nap. i’ll be here.”

she’ll be here.

“thank you, jimin.”

karina, or rather, jimin, chuckles, “hurry up and shower. i hope you brought extra clothes since i’m going to change too.”

you quickly wash up and so does jimin. the two of you settle into the bed, your hands clutching at jimin for warmth and intimacy. you have her. the thought allows you to drift asleep, finally knowing that jimin’s heart beats the same for yours.

when the sun sets as you wake up from your nap, you can’t help but blurt out, “i adore you.”

jimin, pleasantly surprised, only giggles back.

“i adore you too, in ways words cannot express.”

maybe paris wasn’t the city of love. yours was milan.

🎙️ author’s note: this is probably one of my favourite fics i’ve written. most of my own personal values have been put into this fic. regret is a stupid thing, we only live once and we have no idea if we’ll ever get to live again. find people that makes life worth living for. happy birthday yu jimin, aespa’s stupid cheese cat 🤍

[stxrvel]

i don't wanna live forever (1)

summary: reader couldn't stop having deaths in her life ever since the Supersoldier serum came into her life. no matter how hard she tried to stay sane, it seemed that life didn't want to give her a break. until, one afternoon, she learned that one of her old friends was alive… (you guys know im bad at summaries, but please give this one a chance)

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +4.5k

warnings: angst, major character deaths, canon deaths¿?, bad words, english is not my first language! thoughts of revenge and death, this is like an introductory chapter, so the buckyxreader interaction is low, but it'll get better, i promise!

note: holy fuck guys. i just spent like five hours writing and editing this and i fucking love it. its been a while since ive been this proud of a work, im actually scare the emotion will disappear, but i really want to rejoice in this one. i wanted to write something a little different from my usuals, maybe a little common in the fanfiction world, but i started and i simply could not stop (or maybe just approach this bucky fic from another perspective). so this is the first part and i'll try with all my heart to keep this going because it was fucking insane, at least for me. i really hope you all like this as much as i do! feel free to leave any comment! thanks always for all the support!! see you next time <3

part 2 ; part 3 ; part 4

When you went into the Supersoldier serum project with Steve, you thought you were going to change the world. Of course, at that time when technology was relatively new any invention felt like the beginning of a new era. That's how it was all sold to you and it was how you expected everything to turn out… Until you realized that it was all really a waste of effort and time.

They were just propaganda for war. Not to stop it, to promote it. To motivate it.

You tried, on several occasions, not to think too much about it. You tried to stay out of it as Steve sometimes asked you to, even though even he didn't want to, as Bucky asked you to when you lay on his shoulder to cry in the little time you had free between trips. It was a great burden of guilt and helplessness.

Until you and Steve, with the almost imposed help of Peggy and Howard, rescued Bucky from the evil hands of Johann Schmidt and his nefarious organization, HYDRA, that, unbeknownst to you, would haunt you for a long time to come. It was only after that, after spending several sleepless days on edge thinking about what might be happening to Bucky, that you and Steve were finally able to go out and contribute something. Destroy HYDRA and the Red Skull's plans.

Of course, you realized that not everything could go right when, the one mission you couldn't attend, Bucky didn't return. And then Steve didn't come back either.

“Do you think this will ever end?” you had asked Bucky the day before his last mission.

“Of course it will,” he had answered without hesitation, moonlight illuminating his clear eyes, squeezing your hand as if it was all he wanted to do for the rest of his life. “And after that we can begin to live as it should be.”

But there was no after that, because you never recovered from losing him. From losing them both.

“Are you okay?” Peggy approached, in the middle of the afternoon when the sun was streaming through the stained glass windows of the church, illuminating the spot where Steve's empty coffin had been, because they didn't even find his body. They didn't even think there was any of it left.

You barely moved your head to acknowledge her presence, moving the prayer slip they had recited throughout the mass between your hands. Your eyes were crystallized, in tears that no longer even made the effort to flow, because you had already spent too many days and nights crying. Peggy had been on the other side of the church, sitting next to Howard while the priest spoke, because you had refused to be near them in those moments. You didn't want to be near them.

“As well as one can be,” you slurred, finding that it had been a long time since you'd last used your voice for anything other than cursing and crying disconsolately.

The people had already left, probably an hour or more ago. The empty coffin had already been brought out, all the flower arrangements had been picked up, and the priest was preparing for the evening mass. You knew you had to leave, you knew Peggy and Howard were there waiting for you, but you felt stuck at that moment. You didn't want to leave, you didn't want to get ahead, you didn't want that life if it had to be this cruel.

You heard Peggy's sigh, before she took a seat next to you, a short distance away, averting her gaze to look at Christ on the cross.

You didn't know if you were selfish to be so closed off to your friends at this moments, because they must be grieving as much as you were, but you didn't know how to deal with the future possibilities. Bucky and Steve, great men and soldiers, one even with enhanced abilities, had not been able to make it through the punishment of war. What if Peggy and Howard were the same? What if they too had the cruel fate of dying at the hands of injustice? Could you deal with that? With everyone gone?

Maybe you could open up to them a little more because if not, who else? Turning away from them was not going to ensure their survival in this hate-filled society. Maybe you could protect them, like you couldn't protect Steve and Bucky. Maybe you could make a difference, because you had the chance to.

“You know,” Peggy spoke again, rearranging herself on the bench and crossing her legs, “Steve always knew this was how it would end.”

Her wistful, mournful, fragile voice sent a shiver through your body. Peggy didn't consider herself someone to show herself vulnerable in front of others no matter how close they were, even in those things that hurt her the most, in those things that affected her personally and made her eyes water instantly, she always tended to shut down. And at that moment you didn't dare interrupt her because you knew it would probably be the only time she would talk about Steve in a long time.

“Sometimes we'd talk, between tour trips, and he would tell me that wasn't what he wanted to do, even when he had to convince you otherwise,” her clasped hands would occasionally squeeze between words, blinking rapidly to fight back the tears. “He didn't know if he'd made the right decision.”

You could almost picture him, backstage at the foot of the stairs with that notebook he carried everywhere and wouldn't let go, Peggy at his side nostalgic, as helpless as the others. It reminded you of the times you'd had similar conversations with Bucky, desperate to find a purpose, a way through so much fog.

“The first time I saw him so sure of himself was when he asked us to help them look for Bucky,” she mumbled his name, as if trying not to scare you away by saying it too loudly. “Ever since then it seemed like he'd found that spark…”

“Until Bucky died,” you whispered, the words cutting through the cold and silence, Peggy shifting on the bench contritely.

“He lost something of himself from that day on, it wasn't hard to tell. The next time I heard him so sure after spending days lost, it was on that call from the plane.”

Peggy paused, raising her hand to cover her mouth as her voice faltered. You turned to look at her, wishing you could rip the pain from her soul and leave it in yours. She was trying to contain her emotions, breathing deeply, and in that moment you wondered what life might be like from now on, with the specter of grief following you around, waiting for the next time the dead knocked on your doors, unexpectedly, without allowing you to say goodbye.

“He had told me he wouldn't die in peace until he could get it all over with. And he took it all with him. And I hated him so much for it…” Peggy sobbed, her labored breathing standing out between words. She kept looking straight ahead at the stained glass windows, the expression on her face hard and scowling despite having tears rolling down her cheeks, as if she were trying to blame something for what had happened. Her reproachful eyes fixed on the Christ.

Her wails echoed through the walls of the church, the father on the dais sending them a look of sorrow. He had offered you water, thirty minutes after everyone at Steve's wake had left, when they kept walking, and you stood there.

Another empty casket.

“Ladies,” Howard's voice reached your ears amidst all the physical and emotional numbness. You could barely notice Peggy wiping under her eyes with the pocket square that was surely part of Howard's suit, as she took breaths to get up. “We should go now.”

You heard him walk, his slow, careful steps stopping just behind you. There, on his feet with his chest tight, he rested a hand on your shoulder and gave it a squeeze in support. He knew it was the most you would allow him at a time like this, deciding not to pass up the opportunity to let you know he was there. You sighed, feeling a heaviness take over your body as you stood up.

“Yeah, let's go.”

The next few months passed in a blur. Maybe too fast, maybe too slow, you weren't sure anymore.

Peggy continued to work at the Strategic Science Reserve for a couple of years, calling you from time to time to help her with some jobs. You kept a low profile, practically a fugitive from the state, while trying to live a halfway normal life in Europe. A lot of it thanks to Howard really.

Life had become a rather monotonous routine when you stopped getting so many calls from Peggy and Howard several years later. You knew they were fine, but not being able to return to the country filled you with anguish every day. And trying to lead a normal life became too complicated when you looked in the mirror and it seemed like not a single day had passed since you were in that capsule of Dr. Erskine's with Steve.

Until Peggy called one day asking you to come back. She told you that it was safe, that there would be no state officials waiting for you at the airport, but even if that had been the situation, you wouldn't have hesitated for a second to buy the first plane ticket and fly to see them again. To Howard and Peggy, to melt into an embrace, longing for the lost years.

You had thought that contributing to the fight in World War II had earned you a ticket to at least be recognized in the military, but all you gained was the government with their mad scientists looking for you to try to recreate the Supersoldier serum. Peggy didn't want to risk you and Howard gave you no choice by giving you a plane ticket to Finland with your bags packed.

You wasted many years not being by their side, unable to keep the promise you had made them in your head to be close by to protect them, to watch over their safety.

But when you left the airport there was only Peggy, and maybe that should've told you everything.

Her hair already looked gray, the effects of gravity and time present on her face. You hated to think that you shouldn't have looked any different from the way she saw you last time when she waved you off at that same airport. Her warm gaze was the same, raising her arms with held back tears to encircle you in a big hug. She tried hard not to sob against your shoulder, you felt the choppy movement of her breath against your chest.

She looked so different and the same at the same time.

You walked to her car a moment later, her trying to carry your suitcase and you telling her you were perfectly fine carrying it on your own. Amidst a smile, she walked into the driver's door and you frowned as you saw the empty passenger seat.

“Where's Howard?” you spoke as you sat down, after stowing the huge suitcase in the trunk of the car. The way you moved to buckle up, you didn't notice the way Peggy froze in place, her hands clenching the steering wheel so tightly that her breath hitched from the effort.

“We're going to see him,” was all she said, but she was very good at hiding that something was wrong. Only for a little while.

During the trip, even though you tried to ask things about them, about what they had been doing during this time, you didn't miss the way her shoulders were tense or her eyes very alert. Something bad had happened and Peggy was trying to hide it from you.

When she pulled up in front of a church, you already knew what had happened without her answering a single one of your questions.

Howard had died.

You two had sat next to Howard's son Tony, his spitting image, in complete silence as the prayers went on. At that moment you didn't know what had happened, hoping it had been a quiet and peaceful death, because you didn't know if you would be able to endure another violent death.

Peggy gave you all the details when the mass was over, after the coffin was taken away, and you hadn't felt such fury in so many years. Not since the deaths of Bucky and Steve had that adrenaline rush of anger returned to run through your body as violently as it did at that moment, when Peggy told you that he had been murdered along with his wife. All to steal some prototypes of Dr. Erskine's serum. The damned serums with which everything had started.

This time there was a body in the coffin, but there was also a culprit. Someone to point the finger at and take it out on for years of anguish and pain.

You were at Peggy's house, staying for a few days, when she told you that wasn't all.

Peggy had a suspicion that HYDRA hadn't disappeared when Steve crashed that plane into the ice. Her suspicions generated panic in you, because Bucky and Steve had died for that, now apparently Howard, only for it all to have been for nothing. The feeling of carnage that ran through your whole head made you nauseous, years of helplessness and pain pent up in such a small body had to find its way out somehow.

“It was a man, according to the information I've been able to gather,” Peggy spoke, taking a seat across from you in the dining room of her living room, after pouring you a glass of lemonade. “He didn't die from the crash. He had a concussion. He was hit in the head. His wife died from asphyxiation.”

“Does Tony know?”

“No,” Peggy shook her head quickly, one hand over her heart as if the mere thought caused her physical pain. “It didn't even occur to me to tell him something like that.”

“And he was looking for the serum,” you recalled, a bitter feeling planted in the back of your throat, the memories of the disastrous times during the war coming back into your head like a blinding flash.

“He took them. We don't know who he is or who he works for, but whoever they are, they must have been following us for a long time to know about them.”

“You mean years,” you arched an eyebrow, your fingers touching the cool exterior of the glass seeking some reassurance.

“Possibly. That project isn't recent,” Peggy nodded, drinking her lemonade with a grimace. You stared at the liquid almost finished from her glass, a wrinkle forming between your brows with each passing second and you kept wondering why.

“But what the fuck was going through that asshole's head?” you spat angrily. Rage at already the amount of lives that serum had taken with it and at Howard's recklessness. Rage at the reaper who seemed to be following in their footsteps for some reason, rage at that damn man and whoever his damn boss was.

“It was the only option, Y/N,” Peggy turned her gaze, meeting your eyes with a strange glint.

“What do you mean?” you were almost afraid to ask, your friend's gaze suddenly turning evasive. You watched her run her fingernails over the glass of the tumbler, lost for a moment in thought. The way her shoulders slumped forward in defeat caused a pressure in your chest that made it hard to breathe. Peggy shouldn't be going through these things at this point in life.

“Howard was working with the Pentagon, as a contractor or something. They had found you. Howard felt cornered and they made him sign an agreement.”

With your incredulous look on her face, Peggy didn't dare look back at you for a few seconds. So much had happened since you had left and it seemed that you had only been told about the things you weren't going to care about so much. But if you had known that you wouldn't have cared much about giving some of the state officials their comeuppance. You would've liked Howard to trust you enough to tell you, not live in as much fear behind his back as the last few years must've been. You didn't like the way Peggy's lips curved downward, as if she, too, would've preferred to make another decision had she known this was how it was going to end.

“Howard assured them that he could recreate the serum, and told them he would as long as they left you alone.”

“Fucking asshole…” you closed your eyes, scrubbing your face with your hands. The rough skin of your hands rubbed against the delicate skin of your face, years of combat and mistreatment foreseeing a harshness that reminded you every day of what you'd had to go through to get to that moment.

“I only found out about it after it happened. I didn't see it for like a whole week,” Peggy shook her head slightly, her eyes glistening in the pain of the memories. You shook your head hard, a more violent reaction than you could have anticipated.

“That stupid… stupid asshole! What the fuck made him think I couldn't defend myself?”

“He was trying to do the right thing,” Peggy finally searched your eyes, meeting the red rims that told her you were holding back too hard breaking in front of her, only using that pain mixed with rage to keep you sane.

“And look how that turned out!”

Peggy stretched her hand across the table, with a pleading look asking you to lower your voice, averting her gaze to the hallway. You followed her gaze, for a second forgetting where you were, forgetting that her family was with you behind the doors where you were plunged into darkness. It was past midnight.

You took a second to calm yourself, trying to drown out the uncontrolled emotions and taking deep breaths to calm your fluttering heart.

“And if what you theorize is true…” you regretted the moment those words left your mouth; you didn't even want to finish the sentence.

“Do you think it is?”

“I don't want to,” you shook your head instantly, closing your eyes, the thought sounding illogical inside your head. Your hands on your chest trying to contain the storm of feelings that was making chaos inside your head. “That would mean that everything we did, everything Bucky, Steve and Howard did and sacrificed, was in vain. It will all have been in vain.”

You spent several weeks with that thought in your head, working hand in hand with Peggy, and the organization you barely knew as SHIELD, to track down the whereabouts of the killer of Tony's parents and the one responsible because the Supersoldier's serums were, surely, in the wrong hands.

And yes, it was many years of fruitless missions and dead ends, with you running every field mission and Peggy calling the shots from the New York facility. Every time you felt close to discovering something, it seemed that the enemy rejoiced in your failures and still couldn't understand how they were always three steps ahead.

However, you had to leave the missions when Peggy became ill.

The silent, lethal Alzheimer's.

During the first months in the hospital, she still recognized you. She also recognized her husband and children. But after the first year, she frowned every time her children walked through the door. After a year and a half, her husband had to remind her that they had been married for about forty years.

After two years, she was still only remembering you, Howard, Steve and Bucky. Her whole life during her time in the army was all you talked about, sometimes you would tell her how much more time had passed than she remembered and always, without fail, she would ask you how much you had done in Europe for so long by yourself.

She cried every time she remembered Howard's death. She cried every time she remembered her children. Out of her mouth came a thousand apologies that no one would accept, because there was nothing anyone could do to prevent what had to happen. You wished she had been a serum test subject instead of you.

For several years, missions to find Tony's parents killer were sporadic because you spent more time around Peggy than at the SHIELD facility. She was the only thing you had left of everything you'd ever had, of when you held the world in your hands. She was the last thing keeping you tethered to that reality, keeping madness from flooding your reason. How could you have so many years ahead of you when that was all you had to live for? A life full of the dead, full of pain and suffering. What kind of karma were you paying for?

You were leaving the SHIELD facility, after another failed mission, when Nick Fury stopped you in front of the exit. You almost rolled your eyes right under his watchful gaze, tired of having to meet him anywhere, and exhausted from his comments about this vengeance project or whatever he wanted you to be a part of.

You still didn't know how, being such an exemplary agent, Coulson had fallen into his nets.

“Miss L/N,” the man stopped you with his words, his hands behind his back and a tense stance that caught your attention.

“Fury,” you nodded in his direction, hoping he'd be quick because you were running late for your weekly visit with Peggy. “Do you need anything?”

“I'd like you to come with me somewhere,” Fury approached tentatively, his one eye fixed on your wary expression, which shifted to boredom the moment you thought you knew what he wanted.

“If this is about that project, I've told you a thousand times-”

“No,” he interrupted you, moving forward and removing his hands from behind his back. “It's not related to that. I really want you to come with me.”

“You look agitated, but I need-”

“I'll take you to see Peggy myself after this.”

You didn't like that he knew your routine, even though you weren't doing enough to hide it from the other agents. But Fury looked nervous, even though he was hiding it very well, trying to keep his cool as he looked for ways to convince you.

You figured it wouldn't be a big deal for you to go off the deep end for once. After all, Peggy never remembered you were going to see her.

You set off in Fury's armored vans, not quite sure where you were going, but sure that it was urgent, because he had taken it upon himself to let his driver know that you had to get there as soon as possible.

You took that time on the trip to come up with a new strategy for the next mission because what you were doing up to that point wasn't working and you felt too close to throwing in the towel, figuratively speaking. You could spend years following a ghost, but you wouldn't give up on finding Howard and Maria's killer.

Before the car pulled up to one of SHIELD's secret sections, they passed the giant, imposing Stark Tower. You never saw Tony again after that time at his parents' funeral, not even during his visits to Peggy because you always made it a point not to cross him. You didn't think you'd be able to look him in the eye while you knew his parents had been killed without being able to tell him. You had promised Peggy in her lucid moments that you wouldn't tell him anything until you could find the culprit. You didn't want to initiate that pain if it had to be kept repressed, as yours once was, and probably still is. You had learned, some time after the funeral, that he was living with Edwin Jarvis, and you were glad to know that he would have good companionship to keep him company in such hard times.

Fury, a handful of agents and you entered the vans through the entrance to what appeared to be the parking lot of an old warehouse. Upon entering, the first thing you noticed was the number of armed agents that seemed to be guarding the place, not at all discreet to how SHIELD used to do things. You weren't sure if Peggy would authorize something like that, but you couldn't question the Director's decisions. It wasn't your place.

“What's going on here?” you frowned, watching as every meter there was another agent and another agent. You got out of the car without waiting for an answer from Fury, moving directly toward the entrance where most of the agents were concentrated. You barely noticed their looks in contradiction, running their eyes over you and then over the man trying to catch up to you, dubious as to whether or not they should move. “Move.”

“Wait,” Fury's voice stopped the command in the agents, who turned back to look at you as you sent Fury a confused look.

“What's all this mystery, Nicholas?” the man startled almost discreetly at your tone of voice, the agents stirring uncomfortably, but kept the serene expression that was getting on your nerves. “What the fuck did you do?”

“We got a call from the Arctic.”

“From the Arctic?”

You tried to ignore the way the hairs on your neck instantly stood up, your body alerting you to something your mind still couldn't comprehend. You felt like a deer face to face with a predator, expecting the worst.

“The Colonel informed us of something that might interest us,” Fury's cryptic voice echoed in your ears, drowning out the flicker of uncertainty vibrating from your head to your toes. “They found a plane.”

You didn't even answer him. Your heart began to pound wildly, cornered, ready to have your head bitten off. The tension in your shoulders intensified, with the involuntary movement of your hands as you broke into a cold sweat. The mere implication of his words caused an emptiness in your stomach, a sense of longing and fear you hadn't felt before.

You looked at Fury, trying to find in his gaze the gleam of a lie, but there was nothing there but assurance. There was nothing but recognition and understanding in his gaze, but that didn't make the emptiness in your stomach and the tight chest go away. It didn't make the feeling of being outside your body go away.

You barely remembered to move in the direction of the door, the agents instantly moving out of your way, pushing it so hard that one of them flew out. You moved your eyes around every corner of the room, the cream-colored walls generating a great repulsion in you. And there, in the midst of all the confusion and the storm, a confused and disgruntled face looked back at you. A face you never thought you would see again.

Steve Rogers was standing a few feet away from you, barely comprehending what was happening around him and instantly recognizing you. Your chest compressed once again, the tears you held back for so many years even in your loneliness making their own way into your eyes, endangering to end that mask you wore everywhere you went.

Steve was actually there, looking back at you with his eyes shining in recognition. You didn't know if he was as surprised as you were to react or you looked so bad that he didn't know if he should approach you or not. You just knew it was him, it really was him right there in front of you. He wasn't dead. Steve wasn't dead. He was alive. Ah, he was so alive.

The broken sob that suddenly left you was loud enough to make your friend shed his stupefaction and stride over to where you were. You barely managed to cover your face, between sobs, wails and disbelief, feeling your knees give out, surrendering to the weight of the pain, when his strong arms grabbed your shoulders before you hit the floor. Preventing your fall, as you had wished so many times before.

You cried against his shoulder, when feeling him against your body you knew there was no doubt it was true. You moved your hands away from your face, wrapping them around his waist as tightly and lovingly as you hadn't hugged anyone in so long. Surely the last time you hugged someone like that was when you saw Peggy on your way back from Europe.

Steve wasn't far behind, his arms around your shoulders just as tightly, his chin against the crown of your head, moving from side to side trying to hold back the loud sobs that shook your body.

You couldn't believe it, but it was true, he was right in front of you.

Steve was alive. He had come back to your side. You didn't even want to ask why.

And there was nothing else you could think about for the rest of your life.

[blackinquisitors]

Any good rdr2 fic rec?

ooh yes

my current fav one is The Unreliability of Men's Promises by dazednstoned. abigail centric fic. I'm absolutely in love with it. the writing is phenomenal and they just GET abigail and what her likely dynamic with the gang was. ugh chefs kiss

one that has been my biggest source of inspiration is mine is clouds by ssstrychnine. charthur fic. I cannot tell you how much this inspires me. not even the story, just the writing style. I was in a massive creative funk and couldn't figure out this last chapter of bloom, and I read 1.5 chapters and INSTANTLY understood how to write again. like I had to read this in quarter chapter increments so I didn't steal too many ideas, it was that amazing

this night has opened my eyes by my mutual @pinkysberg REALLY love this. john centric and pinky just GETS him. so if you read this and the first fic i mentioned side by side you have a phd level understanding of the worlds most dysfunctional couple. for a time we were writing this at the same time and were at the same place in rdr2s plot so i felt like we were two random cars driving along together on a highway lol

He Was A Friend Of Mine by biiitchofCambridge. charthur fic. SO GOOD. this was another source of inspo, mostly the dynamic between arthur and charles is what was so good. I've read a lot of fics that tend to soften both of these guys, but this fic really has that 1890s masculinity thing going on, and I appreciate that

no law less than ourselves by CatRoofDance. another source of inspo. I fully stole an entire idea and forgot that it wasn't my own and based arthurs entire character around that. oops! woah I just wrote out a whole thing abt how this was popular and well-loved for good reason, and its not number 1? huh? it should be. the top fics of the charthur tag are cliche garbage. this deserves far more love than it has

Luck and Chance by swampslip. charthur fic. I read this a looong time ago and I barely remember it but it has some of the best charles characterization ive seen. his dialogue is so perfect I can only aspire to it

Let Me Down Gently by reddeaddesolation. smutty mary/arthur fic. again its been a whiiile since I've read this but i remember really enjoying it, particularly the characterization the the dynamic between them

Don't Come Knocking by charlock221. sadie/molly fic. no sorry, THE sadie/molly fic, THE ONLY sadie/molly fic. this is canon as far as I'm concerned. not kidding. it's so well written, it's incredible. everything about it makes sense. I adore it a normal amount. even if this isnt your cup of tea, I still think you should read it

I think thats it. puts all of these on a mantel and stares at them lovingly every day

[dira333]

Passing Peonies - Post War Touya Todoroki - Part IV

When the war ended, Midoriya Izuku had proven one thing: That Villains did not need to be killed to be defeated. That you could make friends from enemies.

Touya Todoroki, formerly known as Dabi, had been one of those taken into the rehabilitation program. After one year of intense physical and psychological therapy, he's got the chance to prove himself. To prove that he can be a part of this world.

Complete fic length: 30.600 words - Masterlist

Warnings: poor mental health and resentment against past actions is mentioned, burn scars etc. as well. There is angst but this is mostly soft Touya coming back to his family...

Part 4: (2,1k words)

You’re a good teacher.

He’d known before but it becomes clearer now. 

He’s still got problems with fine motor skills, his fingers often too stiff to tie ribbons or cut the smallest branches without damaging the rest of a Bonsai but he’s learning so much, not just about taking care of plants but other things as well.

The old ladies that used to coo at your friendly gifts now flock around him, tell him about their grandkids and ask for his opinion on what to buy them.

He figures out quickly which students like his snarky comments and who’s appreciative of being guided toward a cheaper alternative.

The week after he gets his ZZ plant, he can choose between a bouquet or an indoor plant.

“You don’t even know if I’ve taken good care of him.”

“Well, have you?” You ask, pushing the sleeves of your cardigan up your arms as you prepare to dig into the roots of fiddle-leaf fig, the sight of your bare underarms distracting him for a second.

“Of course. But that’s not the point.”

“Bring him in tomorrow then if you want me to review your work.” You cheekily smile up at him. “Even if you’re just fishing for compliments.”

He picks a golden pothos for his therapist, knowing that he desperately needs a plant to light up that office while also knowing he can’t take that free bouquet and gift it to you, even if he’s starting to want to.

🌺.

Three months later you’ve fallen into a rhythm. 

Every second Friday after closing you let him into your apartment where, after a grilled cheese sandwich and a shared bowl of soup, he waters your plants and renames them.

Bob’s doing so well, he’s already a parent, one of his kids now sitting on Fuyumi’s shelf. 

Hawks has put in a request for more Bouquets for his agency, as well as his father and Shouto, who in turn has seemingly told all his classmates about this great flower shop downtown.

Touya would love how much more money you’re making now if all those customers wouldn’t cut into the time he gets to spend with you.

At least the purple-haired gremlin Shouto calls a classmate hasn’t shown up since he scared him off. He doesn’t like guys buying flowers as an excuse to check you out, especially when they’re too cheap to buy a proper bouquet.

🌺.

“No grilled cheese today.” You tell him one Friday evening as you close the door and turn the key. “I’m buying you dinner.”

His heart skips traitourously.

“You sure your plants can survive without my care?” He jokes and you grin.

“Positive. Now grab your jacket and let's head out.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Oh, multiple things. We’ve got so much business now we’ll have to start dividing our orders into two different pick-up dates. What do you think of Tuesday and Thursday? We could use Monday and Wednesday to make the bouquets.”

“And the other reasons?”

You laugh, clearly figuring out that there’s no use in redirecting his thoughts. 

“I don’t believe in anniversaries but I’ve heard people say that it’s always hardest after the third month, so I thought you could use a little celebration.”

He looks at you, calculates the slope of your nose against the curve of your lips, and cocks his head to the side.

“And the last thing?”

You sober up quickly, looking down the street into the dark night, the sign of a gas station glowing in the distance.

“Today’s the anniversary of my father’s death.” You look up at him, your eyes open and vulnerable. “I like to do something nice for someone else on that day. As a gift to the world, you know?”

He doesn’t know. But it fits you. Like green aprons and cardigans, white shirts, and grilled cheese.

-

“Do you want to talk about him?”  

You walk in silence for a while, the same comfortable silence he’s shared with you since he’s met you, until eventually you open your mouth.

“We have the same quirk. It has been in our family for generations. My great-great-grandmother was a hero, actually. She made sure to marry someone who complimented her quirk and so on and so forth, until my father decided to marry someone quirkless, to not be a hero, or even a fancy landscaper. He just wanted a normal, comfortable life.”

You point at the door or the restaurant and he follows you, feeling like your story isn’t over yet, but not ready to push you to talk when you never do that with him.

The restaurant isn’t fancy, but it’s not fast food either, telling him that you’re spending quite some money when he’s seen how you live and knows how much the shop used to bring in.

When the waiter leaves your table and he opens his menu, you lean across the table to whisper, bringing along a scent he’s grown so familiar too. The scent of earth and greenery, of flowers and foliage, of you and your shop and your home.

“Sorry, what?” He shakes his head to clear his mind, realizing he missed every word you’ve just said.

“I said if you’re not against sharing they have this amazing combination of gyoza dumpling and melted cheese. They line the Gyoza up and when the cheese is melted you can dip the gyoza in. You can choose what the fillings are and if you want other dips for it but it’s usually a serving for two.”

He blinks at the giddiness lighting up your face. He’d never been especially inclined towards cheese until his mind started linking it to you and now, linking it to you being happy.

“Of course.” He hears himself say and sees you lighting up even more. “But if we order it, we have to go full in. Filled with cheese to dip in cheese. We’re not cowards after all.”

You giggle and he looks back down at the menu to keep himself from staring, glad that his skin grafts cannot blush.

When the waiter returns, however, he’s pulling a face that spells uncomfortableness.

“I’m sorry.” He says, clutching his notepad with both hands. “But I’m… well, I was made aware that we cannot serve you.”

“What do you mean?” Your face is full of confusion while Touya catches on faster. 

“He means he can’t serve me.” He explains and the way the man cringes tells him everything he needs to know.

“It’s alright.” He says when he feels that it’s not, in fact, alright. “I’ll just see you tomorrow then.”

“No.” Your hand’s flat on the table and your voice serious. “Matsumoto-kun, you’ll be serving us.”

“I’m sorry, please, I-”

“Leave it.” Touya tells you, the hard line of your mouth something he hasn’t seen before.

“Is there a problem?” Behind Matsumoto, a new face appears.

“Yes.” You’re standing now, smaller than the two men, but standing your ground. “You’re taking part in the rehabilitation agreement, yet you’re not willing to serve a member of the same agreement. I don’t want to do this but I will have to make a formal complaint if you continue to refuse us service.”

“Madam.” The man behind Matsumoto, obviously the manager, is wringing his hands now. “This isn’t about the agreement. You have to understand what your companion did-”

“It doesn’t matter who he is or what he has done.” You tell them sharply. “He could be Tomura Shigaraki and it would still be your duty to serve him as a customer if he came in here as part of the Rehabiliation agreement.”

“This isn’t our decision,” Matsumoto whispers, eyes looking everywhere but at Touya himself who’s now standing himself, hand on your arm as if that would do something but ground himself.

“Come on.” He tells you. “Not today.”

And somehow he’s said the right thing because you nod and grab your purse and your jacket, following him out of the restaurant.

Five steps from the door he can hear you curse under your breath.

Ten steps from the door he can hear you sniffle and when he turns, you’re full on crying, fat tears dripping down your face.

“Hey. Hey, don’t cry about that. It’s not worth it.”

“It is!” You disagree wetly. “They shouldn’t treat you this way and now I’m mad and I’m hungry and I’m upset that I always cry when I’m mad, and-”

“If it would make you feel better you could let weeds grow in front of their door.”

“They would just pull it out, that’s just hurting the plants.” You complain but you’re almost smiling now.

He’s grinning back at you. “We could spray paint their windows. Egg the front. Put toilet paper over the door.”

“What are you? Five?” 

He laughs and you laugh with him, frozen on the sidewalk in your shared little bubble.

“There’s a Kentucky Fried Chicken down the street, isn’t it?” He asks. “They have cheese fries. It’s not as good as dipping cheesy Gyoza into melted cheese but would it satisfy your cheesy needs?”

“You make me sound like an addict.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little bit.”

-

He watches you pop another cheese-covered fry into your mouth and feels only a little weird about it.

“Feeling better?” He asks, chewing on his straw.

“A bit. But I’m still going to put in a formal complaint. It’s not okay.”

“It’s been a year. It’s going to take some time.”

“Still. God, now I can never go back there again and I don’t know anyone else who offers that dish.” You complain.

“I could learn how to make it.” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them and he bites his tongue, regretting them immediately when you pinch your brows.

“I didn’t know you can cook.” You offer him an easy way out and he shrugs.

“I don’t. But it doesn’t sound that hard.”

You laugh. “Oh, it is. Why do you think I only offer you Miso soup and grilled cheese sandwiches?”

“Because that’s your favorite food?”

“True. But it’s also the only thing I can make. Well, when the sun’s in the right position and the moon’s not looking, I can also make a fried egg.”

He laughs at that. 

“You seem so talented, I thought you’d be good at everything.”

Your smile wavers and you wipe your fingers, signaling you’re done with your food.

“Want to take a walk?” You ask and he nods, throwing away the trash and meeting you at the door.

Something in him wants to take your hand, make sure your pulse is still the same as always, that you’re fine and well and there with him, but he knows that’s not the whole reason.

He wants to take your hand because he wants to hold it and feels like a ZZ plant that’s been put in a dark spot, longing for more light and scared it might burn him at the same time.

He doesn’t put his hands in his pockets, lets them hang by his side loosely, hoping against hope that your hand will knock into his as if a ray of sunlight might accidentally come his way.

-

“My father died five years ago.” You tell the night sky above you. “He had a heart attack and died in his sleep. I miss him every day. And I know he’d be proud of me. Of what I’m doing and how I’m doing it. He’d love my apartment and my shop and even if he’d call every bouquet I make perfection, he’d still pluck around in it, because he couldn’t let anything go untouched. Isn’t that love, that you love something not only despite its imperfections but simply because of them?”

Heaviness settles in his gut yet again as your words sink in. 

You look at him and he wonders if you’re talking about him too. 

He thinks about his parents, his siblings, his friends - if he can call them that. 

He wonders if they love him despite his imperfections and he wonders if he loves them.

“My mother remarried three years ago. And I’m happy for her, because her new husband is really nice, and she’s happy. But they moved, about two years ago, to America of all places. Plane tickets are expensive.”

“It gets lonely sometimes.” He says, not really knowing why until you nod.

“Yeah.” You breathe out. “Yeah.”

He wants to say that he’s here now. That you can lean on him. That he’ll be there for you.

But he doesn’t. Because he can’t. He shouldn’t. He won’t.

So he doesn’t say anything and it seems to be the right thing, allowing the two of you to walk in silence through the dark.

taglist: @misfit-megumi @shoulmate @pixiesavvy @the2ndl @neko-my-cat @chelseaquake

taglist is open, if you want to join, just mention it in a comment or send me a message.

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[somber-sapphic]

HIII IT'S ME OMG IM SO EXCITED COULD YOU POST THE NEW FIC ALL IN ONE PART??? CUZ I CAN'T WAIT TO READ IT EEEHHEHEH I LOVE LONG FICS ALSO IM KINDA NEW TO TUMBLR SO IDK HOW TO USE A LOT OF FEATURES AND THE ONLY WAY IVE FOUND TO MESSAGE PPL IS THE REQUEST PART LOL - 🦊

I'VE GOT YOU 🦊!! Sorry it took so long to upload, I thought of something else so I added and then had to edit that part :) I hope you enjoy!

Everything's Just Fine

You get sick and Emily is away with the team on a case. You were frustrated that you weren't able to help, so instead of resting you decided to do all of the paperwork that you could find. A great decision, right?

Word Count: 3k

-----

You sniffled and rubbed your bleary eyes, trying to focus on the pile of paperwork you were trying desperately to get through. Hotch had deemed you ‘too sick’ to go with them on the case, but he wasn’t there, leaving you to your own devices. You’d helped solve it by working through Garcia, who you had threatened into silence (in reality, you’d begged her to let you help and flashed the best puppy dog eyes you had) and your team would be home in three hours. 

Penelope had agreed to stay silent, but only if you drank the gallons of tea she shoved down your throat. You were sure that she’d laced it with some sort of medication, so you just pretended to drink. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate her attempts to coddle you, it was just that you didn’t want her to see you so vulnerable. You didn’t want anyone to see you like this, it was embarrassing. 

Your nose was running practically nonstop, your chest ached, you couldn’t stop shivering and every five seconds was filled with painful coughs or gross, wet sneezes. Every cough and sneeze tore through your already sore throat, making it feel like you had swallowed glass. The pressure in your sinuses made it feel like your head was about to burst. There was a good chance that the next fit of coughing would send your brain exploding out of your buzzing ears. 

“Sweetie, that really doesn't sound good.” Penelope said, startling you after a particularly rough coughing fit that brought up a wad of mucus and left you seeing stars. You swallowed hard, a little disgusted with yourself, and forced a little smile onto your dry, cracked lips. Judging by her raised eyebrow, she didn’t believe whatever you were about to say next. 

“I’m fine Garcia, just a little cold. Plus, they’ll be back soon.” You rasped, not realizing just how far gone your voice was until you had started to speak. It was a minor miracle that you had even gotten those two sentences out. You sniffed hard and coughed, turning your head into your elbow to avoid spreading your germs all over the innocent tech analyst. 

“Uh-uh, no way. Come on, come lay in my office for a little while. I’ve got everything nice and cozy for when Reid has a migraine, it’ll be much nicer than sitting out here in the cold.” The blonde coaxed, her voice like butter. She was lulling you into a false sense of security, smiling kindly and offering you a space in her Batcave. 

All you wanted to do was curl up and let out all of your stupid pent up emotions, you wanted to cry into the plethora of pillows that you knew she had and just fall asleep to escape all of the pain raging through your body. Every movement sent needles of agony through your bones, even your eyes hurt. You had forgotten that fevers could do that to a person. 

“I’m almost done here, I’ll put my head down when I finish.” You ducked into your elbow with a barely stifled sneeze and lifted your head with flushed cheeks. This whole thing was humiliating, no one was supposed to see you sick. You weren’t supposed to be sick. You were a fucking FBI agent, FBI agent’s didn’t succumb to simple colds.

Penelope frowned and reached out to touch your cheek, rolling her eyes slightly when you slapped her hand away. 

“I’m telling Emily. How do you think she’ll feel about all of this?” She gestured to your sickly appearance as if she hadn’t just threatened you as one would a toddler. You clenched your jaw, but parted your lips when you realized that your nose was too stuffed to breathe, and decided to just glare at her instead. 

“Penelope Garcia. I am not a toddler, you are not my mother, you are not my girlfriend and my physical wellbeing is none of your fucking business. Leave. Me. Alone.” The hurt expression that flashed across her face made you feel guilty, but you just wanted her to go away. Everything about this was wrong, her being able to see you at your weakest point was ever worse. 

“Alright, I’m going back to my office. Come find me if you need anything.” She murmured, bowing her head in understanding. You looked away, resurfacing to meet her gaze, you knew that if she said one more nice thing you’d probably break down. It would be so easy to just start crying. Or it would be if you had enough fluids left in your body to cry out.  

Sniffling back tears you went back to your work, the words blurring through your tears and the general haze that came from what had to be a fever over 102 degrees. You could practically see the look on Emily’s face when she’d come back, the disappointment and concern written in the worry lines across her forehead. She worried too much, especially about you. 

You scribbled your name at the bottom of the page inquiring about who was interrogated, accidentally scrawling your signature into the place where Hotch was supposed to sign. That was it. You were done. That was the straw that broke the exhausted, sick, miserable camel's back. You were absolutely done.

==

You stumbled up the stairs and into the first office you could find, intending to fall onto the couch where you would sleep until your girlfriend got home. She would be so disappointed in you. You made it halfway into what you assumed in your hazy mind was JJ’s office before falling to the floor, too dizzy to stay upright anymore. 

Part of you thought to call out for Garcia as you lay on the uncomfortable tile, your cheek pressed on the rug. The world went black with one final gasping cough as you slipped into unconsciousness. That was nicer than being awake with the pain. 

Unfortunately, unconsciousness was not exactly better. It was uncomfortable, too hot, sometimes too cold, like someone had dunked you in an ice bath which was then set on fire. Your disturbing, terrifying fever dreams were interrupted by a distant sound and the feather light touch of a hand on your shoulder. Both felt a mile away, but they saved you from the nightmares of being drowned in an icy ocean with no one to hear your screams. 

“Y/n! Fuck, EMLIY! Get in here!” You clung to the voice, whimpering as you struggled to pull yourself out of the void. She must’ve noticed your struggle because the owner of the voice combed fingers through your hair, coaxing you into the real world. 

“Hey, hey you. Can you open your eyes?” Sudden panic flooded over you and you shoved yourself away, ignoring the stars brewing in your eyes. For a moment you were pretty sure that you’d throw up, but you managed to curl yourself into the corner, cowering away from the touch. 

Your breaths were harsh and painful, they probably sounded that way to the blonde as well. The world was blurring around you and standing wasn’t probably the best idea, but you were already halfway to your feet. 

“Woah, Y/n,” JJ rushed toward you, raising her arms as you swayed, prepared to catch you. You pulled away again, trying to force out some semblance of words. 

“Go!” You yelped, tears filling your eyes. Everything was spinning, the woman’s face warping and bending in your vision. Something slammed and you looked up to find another blurry faced woman rushing into the room, wearing the same expression. 

“Y/L/N!” The second woman, Emily, barked, making you freeze. In different circumstances that tone would’ve sparked a flutter in your chest, but this was just scary. She raced to your side and grabbed your elbows, managing to keep you upright. You sniffled and met her chocolate brown eyes, searching for anything that could be construed as anger or unhappiness. All you saw was loving concern. 

“Shit, you’re burning up. Honey, why?” The brunette breathed, cupping your cheeks with strong, soft hands. You whimpered in response, doing everything you could not to just fall into her arms. 

“C-can you make t-the room stop s-spinning?” You managed, stumbling forward until your head bounced against her shoulder. Emily wrapped an arm around your waist and helped you over to the couch, murmuring gentle words that you couldn’t quite make out. Everything was fuzzy, you weren’t sure how much longer you could stay conscious. 

You didn’t realize you were crying until you were sitting up against her and she was brushing the tears off of your cheeks. You didn’t fully understand what was happening, but you knew that she was holding you, providing you with the love that you had so desperately needed. 

“Morgan, we’re going to need some help getting her to the car.” Emily murmured, stroking your hair as you leaned against her chest. Part of you was a bit concerned, the deal was no displays of romantic affection at work and here she was, holding you close, cuddling you like she would at home. This was bad. You were going to get fired. 

You pushed her away, little whimpers building in your throat. You slid back onto the floor, confusion and anxiety flowing through your mind. She was by your side in an instant, grabbing your hands as she tried to fix whatever was happening in your mind. 

“No, no no. No, They’ll be mad. They’ll be so mad.” You shook your head and pulled back, a harsh cough wracking your body. Your lungs were beginning to sound like crinkling wax paper, worrying everyone. 

“Come on honey, please get off the floor. No ones mad, we just want to help.” She soothed, inching back so as not to startle you further. Not even you understood the back and forth of your mind, it was scary just how many things were happening and all you wanted was to be somewhere dark and quiet. 

“Everything hurts…make it stop, please make it stop.” You begged, covering your ears, hiding from everything. It was odd, you were just so damn overwhelmed. 

“Okay sweetie, alright. Breathe for me. It’s all going to be okay. Does it hurt when I do this?” She asked gently, probing at your arm. You had apparently bruised it when you’d fallen and it had quickly turned a dark purplish black color. You nodded slightly, removing yourself from your shell so that you could talk to her. 

“We’re going to get you home and all cozy, but you’ve got to trust me. Will you let me?” Morgan and Hotch were in the room now, with Rossi hovering in the doorway. Penelope was attached to Morgan's arm, a panicked expression on her face. This was all because of you. It was both humiliating beyond belief and…almost wholesome? 

“M’kay.” You finally whispered, your voice basically gone at this point. She gave you a small, caring smile and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“Can Morgan carry you?” You were too tired to even consider fighting it. You wanted to be home and if that's what it took, that's what it took. Emily moved to the side and the man stepped forward, nearly blocking your view of her. 

“Don’t leave me!” You yelped, grabbing for her hand. You refused to be away from her, no fucking way would she leave you alone again, it wasn’t happening. She clasped your fingers in hers and shushed you softly. 

“I’m right here, he’s just going to pick you up and everything will be okay.” She was being so understanding, so wonderful. You loved her so damn much. You nodded again and allowed Morgan to hoist you into a bridal carry, your head falling on his chest; you were just too physically weak to hold it up anymore. 

“Shit, Princess, your fever’s really high. Emily, you’ve gotta get that down.” He said, concern radiating in his words. She nodded quickly, still holding onto your hand. You glanced at Hotch as Morgan carried you out, disappointment shining in his eyes. Garcia looked mildly betrayed and you hated that you’d made her feel that way. You opened your mouth to say something, but she shut you up with a shake of her head. 

“Just get better, lovely. I’ll be by with some soup and Disney movies tomorrow.” You smiled at her, your eyes slipping closed as exhaustion took over. You heard a murmur of ‘goodbyes’ and ‘feel better soons’ as you were whisked away by your friend and girlfriend, falling asleep with your head bouncing against Morgan’s chest. 

==

When you woke up you were laying in your own bed, Emily grumbling softly as she tried to peel the sweat covered clothes off of your body. You whined softly at the touch, curling away from her icy hands. You sniffled thickly and pulled your knees to your chest, well aware that you were no longer wearing a shirt. 

“Look who's up.” The brunette cooed, reaching up to stroke your fevered cheek. You squirmed again, utterly unhappy with how much being touched hurt you. All you wanted was cuddles from the woman you loved but her gentle touch caused you so much pain. 

“My skin hurts.” You rasped, giving her a watery pout. Tears were rolling down your cheeks again, for what felt like the 10th time that day you were crying. You hated it, you hated your damn body and you wanted a hug. 

“Okay love, we can get that taken care of. If you sit up for me I can get some medicine in you and get something much more comfortable on.” She smiled, tucking a strand of hair back behind your ear. You shrugged, fully intending not to do anything. She rolled her eyes at your uncooperative behavior and lifted you into a sitting position, making you yelp in pain. She reared back at your pained sound, concern flooding her expression. 

“I can’t it, it hurts too much!” You sobbed, wrapping your arms around your knees and pulling them to your chest. You held that position for probably fifteen minutes until you finally managed to cry yourself out and looked back up at Emily who had a broken expression on her face. 

“How do I help?” She whispered, sounding as desperate as you felt. Your beautiful strong girlfriend was breaking just because you felt sick. You took a shaky, chest squeezing breath and forced yourself to calm down. 

“Um…will y-you help me change…and then maybe hold me?” The profiler gave you a kind smile and nodded, reaching out to stroke your cheek again. This time it didn’t hurt so much, the contact actually felt quite nice. 

It took a bit longer than either of you expected to get you changed, you were practically incapable of moving any of your limbs, meaning that she had to do all of the work. She did it without complaint, checking in every few moments to make sure that she wasn’t hurting you. 

“Okay baby, take this really fast and we’ll get you some sleep.” You didn’t fight when she handed you the cap of blue medicine, well aware that the Nyquil and fever would take you out in minutes. The goop tasted absolutely awful, so bad that even with your poor sense of taste and smell it burned the back of your throat. 

You coughed heavily into your blanket, a sound which made Emily’s face contort in worry. She patted your back as you hacked, helping you to release some of the mucus from your lungs. 

“We’re going to the doctor tomorrow if that doesn’t sound better.” She determined after a few minutes of listening to your exhaustive breathing. You nodded in agreement, well aware that the cough was worse than it should be for a simple cold or mild flu. 

“Stay with me until I fall asleep?” You asked, your body sagging as the medication sunk in. Emily slipped into the bed beside you, sitting a few feet away so as not to invade your personal space in a way that you weren't comfortable with. You hesitated a moment and looked over, feeling suddenly shy. 

“Um…will you hold me? Maybe? P-please…” She smiled kindly and pulled you into her arms, cradling your head against her chest as the two of you snuggled under the covers. You stifled a sneeze, but she just made a worried sound and kissed the top of your head 

“Don’t worry about that. Just sleep, okay? I’m right here, you’re safe. I’ve got you.” You sniffled quietly and grabbed the fabric of her shirt, grateful for her saying that. Fevers always made you edgy, but she had this way of fixing it every single time. She was your rock. She never failed to make you feel better, even at your worst times. 

“Love you Em.” You mumbled, your words slurred by sleep. 

“I love you too Y/n/n. Now hush, sleeping time.” Never one to disobey an order from your girlfriend, you closed your eyes, falling into a warm void of unconsciousness in the arms of the woman you were in love with.

[ruthlesslistener]

do you have any headcanons for anything you've been holding onto, but haven't had a good chance to post about? I love your fics and I wanna peer into your mind palace

Shhdhchs EXCELLENT bc ive had a lot of thoughts but this quarter + anxiety in general has been killin me

-Okay so I'm still hyperfixated on Destiny 2 bc of a DnDestiny game I'm in, but since Hollow Knight is a special interest and I read a couple of frankly stunning crossover fics (one with the Inheritance Cycle, one with Transformers, both are outstanding and I will recc them wholeheartedly if you ask- the TF one especially blew my tits clean off which is saying something bc I have zero TF knowledge, also its 500k words but I'm rambling), my brain has been essentially locked into the concept of a crossover AU where a couple of my D2 OCs get slingshot into the HK world via a fucked-up warpgate through wish-dragon magic, and it's now got me kind of obsessed with the idea of the world of Hollow Knight taking place on an alien planet that had some convergent evolution re: general insect body plans, but went off the fuckin' rails with everything else. So here's some worldbuilding thoughts on that:

-Their planet would be far from Earth and the origin place of the Ahamkara and precursor race to the Worm Gods, who are distant relatives to each other that took to the stars to opportunistically feed off of rifts in reality. They are in turn sister taxa to the Wyrms and Higher Beings from Hollow Knight, who also feed off of the wants, desires, and gulf between what-is-desired-and-what-is-true, but unlike the worms and wish-dragons, the Higher Beings are essentially 'settled' species. They're the farming civilization to the hunter-gatherers of their Destiny-based kindred, and yes, both branches of the family tree fucking despise each other and look down scornfully on the other's lifestyle. The Higher Beings view the Worms and Ahamkara as little more than scavengers, while the Worms and Ahamkara see the Higher Beings as glorified slavedrivers with sticks up their asses- though it should be noted that since the Ahamkara's whole deal so far has been malignant trickery as a hunting style, this doesn't neccessarily carry the same negative connotations that it would in our society. I also don't know enough about the proto-Worms to say how their race would react, but the Worm Gods as they are now certainly are something that Wyrms would look down on

-(Yes that means I have thought extensively about the Pale King's ghost bristling aggressively at a baby ahamkara barely a few hours old. In my defense, it's funny, and also I almost never remember to write him as the cold, prickly, arrogant ass that he is bc his kids make him Big Sad)

-The planet would likely be smaller than Earth with lighter gravity, though how much smaller I can't say because I'm not a fuckin' physicist. I just want an excuse for making fuckoff-huge animals a thing even beyond the inherent space magic thing going on

-Oh, and most life is underground because the atmosphere is thinner than Earth and so the upper surface gets bombarded with deadly amounts of radiation, which causes the mind-wiping effects of the Wastes (where the angle towards their sun is the greatest and thus the strongest). Ngl I did briefly think about potential magnetic field fluxes also being the cause of that effect but like, I cannot overstate how little I know of things outside biology

-HK being set on an alien planet lets me do wack shit with the species there too bc I'm no longer bound by comparing them to Earthbound species. For example, I can make Quirrel an isopod with cricket legs. Who's going to stop me, God? He doesn't exist here

-That also means I can stop being bothered by Herrah's dubious leg placement bc it would kill me forever otherwise

-Also, them being on an alien planet gives me even more of an excuse to never put traditional vertebrate species in there, which is great. I've said it before, but putting Earth vertebrates in the HK setting totally ruins all the fun for me because I love the concept of all the species diversity being made up of invertebrates, and that the 'advanced' bugs we see have filled the niche that vertebrates would have otherwise taken over. Like the carboniferous period but on steroids

General HK thoughts too:

-been toying with the idea of wyrms having a set of evertable inner jaws like polychaete worms, which would be used for keeping dirt out of the mouth and biting off chunks to eat, while the outer jaws (the ones we see) are used for killing, digging, and sparring with other wyrms. The idea is that the outer ring of mandibles bites big circular chunks out of the substrate, which then breaks off into tiny pieces they filter out in between gaps in their mandibles and pack down into tunnel walls as they move forward

-I've also been toying with the idea of them secreting some kind of mucus as they dig that's almost a calcifying substance, but now that I think about it, I can probs just put those glands in their frontal mouth so if they need to reinforce a tunnel (like, say, one burrowed in sand instead of rock), they can mix their saliva in with the substrate to chemically solidify the tunnel walls

-Which btw is a major thing for ecosystems bc the tunnels are used for lots of different things by lots of different species. Wyrms are terraformers baybee!! Kinda the same way wildfires are, but still

-I've also been thinking about maybe making it so that the row of plates I like to draw on their backs act as a secondary pair of belly scutes, which means that wyrms can slither just as easily upside down as they can on their undersides, which helps underground. It's not as efficient as the super-smooth scales on a blind snake, but that's the tradeoff they get for needing to be so heavily armoured

-I'm also leaning towards making marine/freshwater variants that are just straight-up bobbit worms on even more steroids, but since I already have fuckoff huge marine alien bobbit worms in a scifi setting of mine, I'd need to figure out a way to make them unique

-I learned that there's internalized folds of exoskeleton for muscle attatchment in my invertebrate biology course and got really excited about that being a potential basis for the formation of skeletal elements in the world of Hollow Knight- like, maybe bug bones started off as those lil folds (i forgot their technical name which is embaressing bc i literally just took the final this night) becoming stronger and deeper-set into the body to better support the weight of larger and larger bugs, and then it spiraled into a skeleton analogue from there. Being derived from the exoskeleton probably means that it would be less strong than our bones, but it would likely also be lighter

Misc:

-God I really need to write Hornet in Silksong so bad. Fuck. I need need need to write this mildly autistic unsocialized princess running amok in a civilization that isn't ready for her. Also my interpretation of Lace is basically an oc at this point but I don't want to do anything with her just yet bc that shits a lot of work, I just need to write everything down for her so far (and tbh Lurien probs also counts at this point but thats more filling a niche that TC left unfufilled)

-I've also got gijinka thoughts in that I'm leaning towards making Lurien a trans guy who didn't have any gender-affirming surgeries bc a.) I love love love making a variety of trans characters and b.) Hallownest isn't a society where the concept of being transgender is an issue, so there's no need to do it to pass, only to prioritize your own comfort. And since Lurien never expected to be seen in anything but his formalware, he never saw the point of bothering

-(The aformentioned point also applies to normal bug Lurien but this is more of a personal thing here)

-Need to focus more on how the latent magic of the god of a realm changes your eye colour, with the more intense the shade = the more involved you are with their magic. Using Lurien as an example again: his eyes were brown naturally, but after he became Watcher, they slowly shifted to shades of paler and paler blue. I also like the idea of Quirrel's eyes getting more blue the more memories of Hallownest he unlocks, until they're the same shade as the Blue Lake in his final scene

-This can also happen in reverse; for example, my Lace gijinka starts off with gold eyes to signify the church of Pharloom's hold over her, but then slowly revert back to brown as Hornet gives her more and more hope that the institution can be toppled, until they're eventually their natural deep brown with just the faintest flecks of silver in them (signifying Hornet's importance in her life)

-It just occurred to me the other day when I was at work that Striga and Morgana from Castlevania S3 are almost exactly how I imagined my Vespa and Herrah gijinkas to be and now I can't stop thinking about it. The main difference is that my Herrah is a fat spider-orc with tats and Vespa is a fae queen with bee features shimmering through her human veil, but still. Its uncanny

[lincolndjarin]

i didnt realize we hit 1500 until just now :,)

thank you all so much, ily ily ily, i love sharing my writing with you all and im so excited for whats to come. i dont have anything special planned as a milestone celebration so instead of that i will post a section of the din series ive been planning lol

me when its time to write another enemies to lovers slow burn forced proximity din djarin fic with religious undertones ^

just uhh for context btw im not gonna post many spoilers or other teasers for this but its important to the sneak peek that yall know that reader is a cyborg in this. a good chunk of the right side of her body has been replaced with robotics so yeah and din is a real dick about it lmao. enjoy !

⚙️

“I don’t travel with droids.” His voice reminds you of Boba’s when he wears that ridiculous helmet of his. Cold and hollow, more metal than man.

Boba sounds almost defensive of you when he speaks again. You can picture him leaning forward in his chair, the way he does when someone snaps at him. “She’s not a droid.”

“How much of it is even human?” You can’t help but flinch at that, no ones ever spoken about you in such a manner before. No one with a brain would disrespect someone like “Lord Fett” like that.

“She’s not an it.” Fennec speaks for the first time since all of this started, her voice is a hiss you’ve never been on the receiving end of before but you’ve heard her snarl at others before, slavers and other scum who come seeking a boon. You always wondered why such monsters would dare show their faces here, of course Boba dealt in criminal activity but never with people that foul. They often came seeking a Lord Fortuna, and were instead met with the barrel of Fennec’s rifle.

You can’t help but wonder if this “friend of Boba’s” is going to meet the same end. Both of them said they knew him well when he arrived but now they speak to him like the stranger that you know him as. A rude stranger.

The silence that follows is long, you can’t help but wonder if Fennec really did draw her weapon, before you can bring yourself to sneak a look around the corner you hear the all too familiar throat clearing noise that Boba makes before coming to a verdict.

“Look, either she watches the kid here, or she watches the kid with you. Either way she’s going to be involved, you just need to decide if you want to be there to keep an eye on her.” He always says everything with an air of finality, no wonder no one ever debates his decisions. The stranger barely has a chance to sigh before Boba continues. “No one trustworthy on Tatooine is going to take a babysitting gig for what you’re willing to pay.”

“I can’t afford anything more.” He’s furious. Even through the voice modulator you can hear that he’s trying not to lose his cool, but there’s an edge of desperation hiding under his anger.

“She’ll work for free. I’ll even cover her expenses.” You know Boba would do anything for you but this just seems like a bit much. He’s negotiating as if this man didn’t come to him asking for help.

“You want to get rid of her that badly?” Ouch. Rude and presumptuous.

“The last thing I want to do is lose her. That’s why I’m sending her with you.” You don’t doubt that. He’s proven to you enough how much you mean to him, even when he had no reason to.

“Sounds like you’ve made the decision for me.” Sounds like he made the decision for you as well. Has he even considered that you don’t want to go with him? Your desire to see the galaxy is fizzling out the more you think about having to travel with someone who doesn’t even see you as a person.

Another beat of that silence, dripping with tension before Boba takes control of the conversation once more. “She can’t stay here forever. I promised her she’d get to see someplace other than this dusty floating rock. They need me here. They need Fennec here. There aren’t many I would trust to do this but I know she’ll be safest with you. So take her or don’t, but you aren’t going to find anyone else to watch the kid for what you’re offering.”

“Find someone else.”

“There isn’t anyone else.” His patience is wearing thin. You know him well enough to know that he’s likely to snap soon. “You’re not the only one who’s trying to keep their family safe.” The authority in his tone reminds you of the exact reason no one ever argues with Boba.

Not even rude strangers who come bearing absurd demands and who claim to be friends.

“Fine.”

[hannahwashington]

ALSO IM JUST NOTICING YOUR HEADER IMAGE. I LOVE IT SO MUCH gundham danganronpa and crash bandicoot (is that his name im sorry) real. also btw feel free to talk abt th emountain experience bc i dont think i ever asked yet

YES HIS NAME IS CRASH BANDICOOT ive honestly BEEN waiting for someone to comment on my header it is one of my favourite images ever (thanks @horatios-mom). it's like a sequel to the era when i had lesbian crash bandicoot as my icon. i'm only through the prologue of sdr2 but i have been obsessed with gundham for Years,. i barely know the guy but i love him. i will Know More Soon. and trust i will be So mentally ill about him and also the series. i already Am i am just waiting to finish the games to post about them.

anyway MOUNTAIN EXPERIENCE. OH BOY. where to begin.

let me take you back to a time when a wide-eyed 17 year old Archie got traumatised by a mountain. sit back, relax, and follow along my recounting of an experience i found so horrible, i had to vent by projecting onto my favourite blorbos at the time. Don't worry, I am more than comfortable with sharing this story, and with hindsight know exactly where to direct my anger with what happened.

It's March 2020. I'm in my second-last year of high school. every year my school takes the people in this specific grade to a leadership camp to teach a variety of skills and stuff to prepare them for the next year, when they will be school leaders basically. this leadership camp happens to culminate in a hike up the Drakensberg, where we sleep overnight, then come back down and go back home.

To be Quite frank. I was Very Excited for this trip. the more school-related activities not so much, but getting the chance to hang out with my classmates outside of school and the hike were what excited me. I'm not the most fit person, but i loooove me a good nature walk.

So it's a few days before the hike. they take us out to a bunch of activities and it's pretty fun. we did an adventure park thing and i was in the middle of a massive tarzan fixation so when i went on a giant rope swing i did his iconic yell. there were ziplines. once when i went down a line i forgot to brake and SMACKED into the mattress on the tree. so that was fun. here's the thing though. they made us walk everywhere. and these weren't easy strolls, they were hikes in and of themselves. i can't speak for anyone else, but the days leading up to the hike were PAINFUL. my feet were so fucking sore and we hadn't even gone near the mountain yet.

Then they hit us with the "yeah we're pushing back the hike by a day because it's gonna be pissing buckets tomorrow." which, duh, of course it's gonna be pissing buckets, it's the drakensberg, it's kinda known for that. but also, that means another day of walking, another day of worsening the condition of my feet. i felt like sam from death stranding when you let him walk barefoot everywhere. it's around here where you might start recognising elements from the fic snippets i posted, by the way.

so the next day like the absolute ass he is, the headmaster (who joined us for. some reason) made us hike up a mini-mountain to 'prepare us' or something. he was a horrible person for completely unrelated reasons and this logic is totally and completely backwards. anyway, after THAT nightmare, we went tubing down a nearby river. this WAS fun. i went down the river multiple times even though my feet hurt like shit. i had to get my fleeting joy somewhere during this trip-turned-nightmare. everyone had fun except this one girl who was not lucky at all. at the end of the river there's a small drop and 99% of the time when you get there you fall out of your tube. she was one of these people, and was really unlucky as she ended up cutting her foot on a rock. she had to be pulled out of the river by a few of the boys.

now then you would THINK she would go home because of this. kind of a bad idea to hike up a mountain with a cut up foot. but no, like the madwoman she is, she decides to pull through. i respect her so much for it.

Anyway, next day comes, my feet are basically throbbing so bad it's like my heart practically lived in them, not even to mention the soreness in my legs. again - i was NOT fit. i was so nervous i could barely eat breakfast. i tried to twist it into something positive by being like "tehe i'm going up a mountain like my favourite teenaged blorbs" but it really was Not helping. sooooo we get to the foot of the mountain and get ready to go. a couple of girls left and missed the hike because they had a netball tournament or something. to this day i wonder if they realise Just how lucky they got.

This is the part i remember most vividly. the Worst part. we set off on our mountain adventure, and i repeat this mantra: keep pace with the person in front of you. which goes great for all of two minutes until like a whole five days of walking absolutely nonsensical distances catches up to me and i slow down and down and down until everyone has passed me and oops! i've stopped completely. my legs are Begging to be put out of their misery and i am Rooted To The Spot. to cut a long ass panic attack short eventually someone comes back to pick me back up and Get Me Up This Stupid Mountain. it wasn't sam unfortunately, it was the drama teacher, but he was a pretty cool person and probably most comforting adult there, so perfect to deal with me in that moment.

he tells me about setting little goals for myself, like finding a specific rock and making my way to it. break the whole hike down into thousands of little baby steps. this way, i actually started to make progress, little by little, until we break the tree line. i can't remember if this moment was in the snippets i posted, but i look up and see the rest of my classmates above me, and when they notice us they start whooping and cheering and singing break my stride (which is kinda the theme song of the trip, ngl). i was still kinda in hysterics so i yelled at them to shut up. looking back, i appreciate it so so much. anyways, the drama teacher and i carry on with our baby steps.

when i've calmed down enough i start talking. i can't remember if he told me to talk to get my mind off of things or if i started on my own, but in any case i just start talking. i know specifically i brought up treasure planet - my all time favourite movie - and he told me he hadn't heard of it. another fanfic snippet moment here: i did, in fact, rant to him about midsommar. i remember specifically talking about the daylight horror aspect and how the black bars could've been white instead to emphasise just how bright and sunny the film is. also at some point we passed random people on the road who didn't speak english and for some reason, to this day i still have no idea why, the drama teacher told me that he thinks those dudes were drug smugglers and using the trail to get drugs over the border. anyways.

eventually, after so, so long, we make it to the top. not the end of the hike, far from it, but the vertical climb is over. you see, this specific trail has like two hours of a horrible vertical climb, but after that, it's a basically-flat trail. not that that would make it any easier but anyway, i thought that the worst was over. from our position we could see the rest of the group, who were all resting by a fork in the path - a significant landmark. eventually we catch up to everyone, and if my fic is to be trusted, everyone started clapping and cheering and singing again, this time 500 miles (hardy har). this is one of the only details in the fic where i can't tell whether i made it up or if it's actually based on what happened. when i sat down, guess what, legs wanted to shrivel up and die, what else is new, but what really struck me was that Literally Everyone Was In The Same Position. some were crying. some were staring into space with cold, dead eyes. Nobody was having a good time. how foot-cut girl was even still here was what shocked me the most. again, CUT IN HER FOOT, it was PRETTY SUBSTANTIALLY SIZED. even so she did Not look good.

drama teacher had gone to talk to all the other adults about our (my and the injured girl's) predicament. we were in No position to carry on with the hike. (i'd argue nobody was but i digress). it was a full-blown argument from what i remember, and when the adults tried to talk to us they kept on interrupting each other. one kept trying to offer a way down, but another teacher (who championed this leadership camp btw, to put this into perspective) was Adamant we continue and simply sleep at the closer campsite.

You can probably guess what ended up happening.

The break just honestly made me feel Worse about moving, and my mentality obviously wasn't the best, and i sorta just really started missing home at this point, but i had to keep going. since it was flat this time i could actually keep some sort of pace, though head leadership camp teacher complained whenever i slowed down too much (actual villain of the story in hindsight). eventually we make it to one of the campsites.

Here's how the camps worked. every year the group split into two - boys and girls - and rotated each year on who went to each of the two campsites. one camp was by a river, the other by a cave. so, one year the boys would go to the cave and the girls to the river, and the next year they would switch. this year the girls were supposed to go to the cave. guess what. it's the further camspite - a good extra... i dunno, hour of walking? obviously injured girl and i couldnt do that. issue is, you need a tent to camp riverside - we obviously didnt have one. however someone, an actual god among men brought an extra tent with him. i never spoke to that kid. but he made it so we didn't have to suffer as much. so i hold a sort of affection for him.

so, the group splits and we finally, FINALLY get our chance to rest. properly. let me tell you, river water has never and i mean NEVER felt so good. i think i spent like a solid hour soaking my feet. the boys - who. somehow had energy after all THAT - made a dam out of rocks. one guy was taking pictures. i never took my own pictures of the mountain, even though the view was beautiful. i was in too much pain to care. i took a Single picture related to the hike itself, and i'll share that at the end of this thrilling tale. that evening after dinner, i snacked morosely and watched at least half of happy death day on my phone. maybe an episode of unbreakable kimmy schmidt, though i don't now for sure about that one. injured girl and i shared that extra tent.

oh yeah, and guess what. it ended up pissing buckets during the night. shocker.

anyway the next day comes and the walk back is worse. one of the other teachers decides to use 'tough love' on me - which was basically yelling at me and failing really badly at being encouraging. honestly would have preferred being tossed off the mountain instead because it just made me Very Distressed but anyway. what was nice was that this time for the walk injured girl and i were at the front of the line setting the pace. and also two of the boys, two absolute GENTLEMEN were walking with us and leading us. you know me, i'm a lesbian, but god i could've kissed them for what they did for us. (i did not but you get my point).

surprisingly the vertical climb down was the easiest part. the really, really vertical part anyway - which was mostly near the top. so easy that a few boys raced ahead of the group... and ended up taking a wrong turn and getting lost. more on them later. when we dipped into the treeline it felt like we were so close yet so far, SO close to ending this suffering, but every single turn without the tar road in sight made me fall deeper and deeper into despair. i think i literally yelled out "MERCY!" at some point. anyway when we did finally get to the road i started crying as we made our way back to the bus that would take us home.

everyone started taking showers, blessed, cold showers at the public bathrooms, and washing myself of the whole experience felt Wonderful. except it wasn't quite done insulting me just yet.

So. the day before we put our suitcases in the bus that would take us home. what they neglected to tell us was that we needed Everything we'd need for that day and the following day on our person. which means they wouldn't be taking our bags out of the bus, not even if we REALLY needed something. i didn't have my flip flops on me. i had put the shoes i had hiked in away (and also they were like sopping wet which is disgusting). it was hot as fuck and the parking lot outside was all gravel. i had to walk in that barefoot.

insult to injury.

i got myself ice cream. tried not to cry. we all had to wait for like half an hour as the lost boys made their way back to us (i can't remember if a teacher had to go back onto the path to find them or not). borrowed drama teacher's flip flops which were hilariously oversized. and then, literally RIGHT as everyone was boarding the bus to leave. i whip out my phone and grab the one and only picture i have related to the hike itself.

it was a long drive back to my home province. i put on some music, cuddled my pillow and tried to sleep. i mostly just tried not to sob. out of pain, relief, anguish - whatever. since it was a long drive, we stopped at a strip mall that's a really common sort of stopping station for people doing drives like this, such as to use the bathroom. another school happened to be pulled up as we stopped by here, and a girl gave me the filthiest, most judgmental look i have EVER seen because i was barefoot. i honestly don't blame her.

it was dark by the time we got back to the school. i did, in fact, cry when i saw my family. the very next day - no exaggeration, i'm 99% sure it was the VERY next day - it was announced that schools would be closing and the country would be going into lockdown due to covid. which means i got to spend the next, like, two weeks recovering instead of thinking about school. i think one of the days after i got back i watched interstellar. i was on a bit of a sci-fi kick. it was okay.

here's that picture i took outside the bus before we left for home.

people Did see me take this. a couple of my classmates made jokes about how they relate and at least one gave me a high five.

anyway, that's the story of my Mountain Experience™. again, more than comfortable sharing this story as i think it's quite important with understanding me and we know who to blame for putting us through this. i've had chats with other alumni who came before me and they had their Own nightmarish experiences with this camp, which makes me wonder how it continued being a thing for so long.

[boydepartment]

ive noticed you tend to apologise a lot when youre tired and taking a break 😅 you shouldnt do that. youre a human, of course you'd feel tired sometimes. hope youre taking enough rest and recovering soon, no pressure to take and accept requests.

im sorry your interview went weird, but its good you pulled back the moment you found it sketchy. hopefully youd get a chance to accomplish your dream sometime soon in the future! take care jayjay

-🎄

hi it’s okay 🎄 anon :) i’m gonna use your ask to talk abt something if that’s okay, this isn’t @ you, i pinky promise.

i’m gonna be honest after valentine’s day i might just leave this account ? i don’t think ill delete anything but i just can’t be on tumblr or read any of the content i used to. i talked about it a bit a couple days ago i just want to elaborate more.

it makes me really just idk :/ i don’t like the community at all anymore and it’s been declining my mental for a bit. i love enha and all my people in the different groups i like, but i really really hate how some ppl write them and it just freaks me out REALLY bad. ESPECIALLY RIKI. like fuck some of you guys are so weird bruh…. and shameless. like you have no respect and don’t even on the “it’s not that serious.” you’re fucking weird. period. there’s no reason to make some of the shit you guys say public at all.

it’s been talked abt more recently how dubcon and dark fics are more common now and i can’t keep scrolling past it and seeing it. it freaks me out that people will write about actual people like that especially someone who lived at the receiving end of abuse like that. why would you want someone you love to be put in the situation of the abuser? like it doesn’t click to me and sometimes even scrolling past and seeing the tags and send me into a bad episode so i just can’t anymore. i don’t know how people think that’s okay to push their coping mechanism that’s darker and extremely damaging on an actual HUMAN BEING. coping mechanism or not that’s fucking weird. they may be idols but they are human beings too.

i’ve also had a few asks in my anon that are just straight up rude, demanding, or calling me weird for liking riki at all? like you are attacking the wrong girl i have nothing but respect for him. those anons are just stressing me out aswell and it’s just too much. i’m exhausted constantly being disrespected. tumblr is supposed to be a platform where i can get away and get lost in lighthearted stories and it’s not that for me anymore.

i might come back after i leave on valentine’s day but i need time to actually enjoy kpop like i used to. the fans are ruining it for me and it’s just been making me really depressed. i can’t even go on tiktok sometimes because of the fan bases. i’ve always been very open with you guys and like, i need to pull back from these fan bases and take care of myself. i barely eat, sleep, or enjoy anything anymore(that’s due to offline stuff but being on tumblr doesn’t help any of that at all). i miss having fun and the communities are ruining it.

[ghoulangerlee]

handy link list of my writing (AO3)

Putting this together to link in my pinned post haha! (here's the tumblr fic post!)

I'll split in two to stay the same (9/11) WIP E Dew/Mountain/Aether ; amnesia fic

As the fire reaches his shoulders, curls around his neck, a hot and painful burning sensation takes over, settled in the sides of his throat and he reaches up curls his fingers around it, long and delicate; and that’s when he notices, when he feels it—raw skin, blood in the water, burning, burning, burning. His gills are gone. Papa Emeritus the Third is gone and Dew suffers for it.

you share not the blood of our, our, ours (6/?) WIP E Eventual polyghouls/Copia ; slice of life fic

Leading the new era of the Ghost project is none other than the Secretary of the Treasury, Cardinal Copia. It's not a task given to him so willingly. Sister smiles and carefully seats herself in the chair, reaching out and patting Copia on the back of the hand for a moment, “Cardinal,” she greets him, watching as he moves around the desk to take a seat in his chair again. “I do hope you’re not too irritated at Papa,” she starts, “He’s just a little...disgruntled right now.” Copia fixes a somewhat professional smile on his face, clasping both hands in front of him on the desk, “I am not of the bloodline, yes? He’s unhappy about that. I think I would be unhappy about it too, if I were him. I know you said this was what the church needs, but maybe perhaps—”

same old souls playing different parts (1/2) WIP E eventual sunshine/aurora/cumulus/cirrus ; aurora introduction fic

Aurora is brought into the fold of band ghouls for Papa Emeritus IV's newest tour. “You’re not replacing me,” Sunshine had been quick to assure her, “Your station at the church won’t be threatened. I just…need a break,” she’d murmured a bit tiredly, her bright coppery eyes almost dull. “With how things have been…I’m not in any shape to tour.” Things being the attempt at Papa’s life that Aurora had heard about via the way of whispers within the church. Talk of it being an inside job or something similar was rampant among the halls she frequented.

cold blood, hot love (one shot) E swiss/aeon ; boot humping, sex magic, breath play,

"I bet you're thinking of him now, aren't you?" Aeon asks casually, nudging the toe of his boot against the space between Swiss' knees, "Quintessence ghoul taking care of the hot-tempered multi-ghoul," he smiles, and even though Swiss can't see anything other than the outline of his lips, he knows that Aeon's baring his fangs too, can hear the subtle lisp in his voice. Swiss needs help cooling down. Aeon's there to make sure he's taken care of properly.

hold me beneath the surface (one shot) E Rain/Copia/Aurora ; primal play, non-human ghouls

His first mistake had been his walk down through the forest tonight, during a full moon, despite the warning whispers of the siblings. Copia falls into a lake and has to face the consequences.

either born in hell or heaven sent (one shot) E Copia/Dew ; smut

A moment in a hotel between rituals, Dew and Copia spend a little time together. Copia rolls his eyes but there’s the ghost of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips, “You’re only saying that because you don’t want me to call Aether and have him involved in this,” he says, and then he splays his hand out across Dew’s chest, sliding it upwards until its resting casually against the base of his neck, “I know your little tricks, Dewdrop,” he pitches his voice lower, leaning over him in a way that makes him seem bigger, despite their similarities in height. Dew can’t help the way his eyelids droop a bit, the way he tilts his head up as if encouraging Copia’s hand higher, his lips part and he exhales shakily, “You’ve caught me,” he says, squeezing Copia’s waist hard enough to feel the softness give under his fingertips, “I’m trying to keep you all to myself tonight,” he chances a grin, trying for something a little more teasing and a little less sincere.

like a forest fire, you light it and i get excited (one shot) E Swiss/Aeon ; backstage shenanigans

Aeon corners Swiss backstage after a ritual and learns a thing or two about himself.

im a waking hell and the gods grow tired (one shot) M AetherDew ; tour fic, what-if

He flips another page and then sighs, “What are we going to do?” he asks, “The tour starts in three days and we don’t have a rhythm guitarist.” Just days before the Re-Imperatour is set to begin, a cursed mirror throws a wrench into the carefully constructed tour plans.

so take me in turns internally (one shot) E Copia/Aether/Dew ; goodbye smut

Copia and Dew are leaving to go on tour soon. They spend their last night with Aether. And while the whole pack will, of course, miss Aether (and Sunshine, who was also staying behind this time), he’d wanted a night with his mate and his Papa, to properly see them off, one last night for the next many months that they’re away. (Aether already has plans to sneak away midway through the tour to come see a few of the shows, once things at the ministry settle down a bit, but that’s not until later in the summer, and with it only being spring now, time will surely drag on and on and on.) 

baby even though you just want to live (one shot) T (p.1 of Necropolis) Copia/Ghouls ; Copia comes back wrong fic

Papa Emeritus IV is murdered and his ghouls bring him back. Only, things aren't the same anymore. A story told in 5 snippets of the struggles of teaching someone to be alive again, but still loving them all the same.

maybe you do have a lot to give (one shot) T (p.2 of Necropolis) Copia/Ghouls ; Copia comes back wrong fic (from Copia's pov)

Papa Emeritus IV is murdered and his ghouls bring him back. This time, from Copia's POV. Oh baby, she coos at him, soft little chirps falling from her lips as her hands come up, brief and only for a moment, to touch his face before they flutter back to her sides, You did so well for me. He can’t find it in himself to ask her if she’s going to touch him again, her hands warm against his cold skin, but he meets her eyes and she beams at him, leaning in to bump her forehead against his gently. A sign of affection. Affection. His breath catches then, hitches in his chest as it dawns on him. Oh.

there we go and here we come (one shot) E CopiaAether ; soft smut

It's quiet, save for the ever growing sound of Copia’s breathing, devolving more and more into heady, breathless pleas as Aether’s mouth follows a path downwards, finding every single spot between his throat and collarbone that make Copia’s fingers press harder and harder into Aether’s skin. A soft moment between Copia and Aether

of course you knew (one shot) E CopiaAether ; soft smut

Copia huffs, using his shoulder to push his way into his quarters, cradling his right hand against his chest to keep from jostling it too much—it wasn’t a terrible injury, just something that’d happened at the tail end of their latest tour, someone had thrown something towards him from the crowd and when he’d caught it, he’d felt a slight pop in his wrist but hadn’t thought much of it as the adrenaline from performing had caused any and all pain to cease to exist in that moment. It was after, as they were loading up onto the bus one last time to be taken to the airport so they could travel back to the Ministry that he’d notice the ache in his wrist, something barely there but persistent; he’d sort of ignored it then, which in hindsight, was probably why he was now without proper use of his right hand for the next few weeks.

[insidereagan]

heyyy! i don’t really know how to start this but this is partially inspired by a post from @overgore where he talked about the possibility of jr using the holochanmber as a way to say everything he wanted to say to rand at tamiko a wedding but couldn’t and idk i felt like writing a fic inspired by that :]

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/71jjC4TICsr9wqN4z81njf?si=Z_xyV-OoRea6LcsR2qmKMg i wrote this while listening to this playlist i made so its here if you wanna listen to it while reading :)

if i like this i might publish this on my ao3 (@cxpher) but ive already written 2 jrand fics on so idk haha.

this is angst/no comfort btw!

forever hold your silence

Jr knew this wasn’t healthy. He knew he should just get help to help him unpack his years of trauma instead of reliving the same moment in his life over and over again. It wasn’t healthy, and he fucking knew that. But he couldn’t really do anything about it.

I mean, how would he be able to explain the fact that he runs a company that owns a large room that allows him to simulate himself into practically any scenario he wants without saying that said company is secretly running the world and is watching your every move? And Jr would rather die the most gruesome death imaginable than tell anyone outside of Cognito about his career. He was a rich CEO, and that’s all anyone really needed to know about him.

So Jr didn’t have any choice but to creek down Cognitos winding staircase late at night, dressed in his dark grey tux, white blouse and granite-coloured tie, the same outfit he wore to rand’s actual wedding, 40 years ago. He set the simulation to the wedding, took a deep breath, and for what was most likely the millionth time, entered the world that engulfed his thoughts since it happened. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. No matter how much he tried to distract himself with golf, retail therapy, and sleeping with rich ladies, he was filled with regret. He fell in love with Rand (A/N: no idea why he’d actually fall in love with rand but,, y’know,) almost the day they met, and this was his last chance to admit it. And he’d fucked up, chickened out at the last minute, and now he was pretty sure he’d never forgive himself. If he was honest, half the reason he fired Rand was because Jr couldn’t even bare to look at him. He didn’t know if it was out of spite, jealousy, regret, or all of the above, but he just couldn’t. So, he fired rand., God, what he’d do to go back in time to when his only problem was trying to hide his crush on his business partner.

Jr knew he’d spend over half of his life in that goddamn chamber reliving the same 2 hours of his life, saying everything he wished to say to Rand before, but never got the chance to, but there was no way anyone could really do anything. He couldn’t change the past, but he could relive it, even if it was through rose-tinted glasses, and false hope like neon in a glass. Because Jr needed to accept the fact that he’ll never be able to truly relive that moment. Only recreate it with pipe dream fantasies from his own mind. This addiction was slowly killing him. But was the only thing that made him feel alive.

Jr knew this wasn’t healthy. He knew he should just get help to help him unpack his years of trauma instead of reliving the same moment in his life over and over again. He didn’t want to do this. But Jr Scheimpough had no choice but to enter the chamber nightly, while the rest of D.C was sleeping, to reminisce and mourn the one moment in his life he thought he deserved to get a second chance at.

a/n: hellooo, sorry this was so sad haha, but i hope you like it !

[aastarions]

this weekend i’m gonna start working on chapter 5 of stay gold me thinks

[peakyblindersxx]

now i cant stop thinking about breeding kink w Tommy since yesterday, ive never expected to like it so much but now all i think about is like a reader that wants to have a baby but Tommy's like "not now, its not the right time"etc but one day when he sees esme pregnant and john happy or something like that he decides to change his mind and get his wife pregnant too lmao i mean if youd want to write that then id die happily but if not its fine omg

a/n: soo, i made this fic tommy x wife!reader (cause i’m a sucker for tommy being soft for you & only you. can you blame me) and i fucking loved writing it, especially since i’m rewatching and s1 tommy has me all the way absolutely fucked up (not even gonna talk about john cause i’ll probably die). ngl there’s not much plot but it’s still cute imo, hope you like it!!

love, abi xxx

give you what you need - tommy shelby x wife!reader

warnings: nsfw! smut, breeding kink, daddy kink, just a whole lot of filth but i mean it’s tommy what can i say

Esme was waddling. Her stomach protruded from her body so far she could barely even get her arms around her stomach anymore. “Just what we need, another fuckin��� kid,” John had griped, but you could see his ocean blue eyes sparkling with adoration every time she shuffled into the room. In all truthfulness, you were a bit jealous. You’d broached the subject of children with Tommy before, but it was always met with resistance. You understood where he was coming from; he didn’t want to expose them to the life you were living. Yet, beneath it all, you knew what a good father he’d make. You saw through to his tenderness: the gentleness in his voice when he cared for a sick horse; the fierceness with which he protected Finn. Tommy didn’t like to admit it, but he was kind to those who were vulnerable.

Yet, something had changed in the way that Tommy was looking at you, crystal clear blue eyes fixed on your figure. You liked it when he looked at you, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Was it so wrong to crave someone’s attention like this? You wouldn’t know, unable to control yourself when it came to him. It was ridiculous, how he could rile you up with just a look. Was he really thinking about you underneath him? Right here, in the middle of John’s living room?

“Wanna get out of here, sweetheart?” Tommy leaned close to you, mouth hovering next to your ear. You could smell the whiskey on his breath, mingling with yours. That combined with the smell of his cologne was sending you into a tizzy, the gin and tonics you’d consumed adding to the problem. 

“What’s wrong, Tom?” You questioned, eyes looking up at him. He chuckled.

“Nothing's wrong, darlin’. Just been out all day, yeah? S’gettin late,” Tommy drawled, lips brushing against the skin of your neck. His eyes said everything his mouth didn’t. 

“Alright,” you relented with a soft smile, letting him tug you towards the door, giving a hurried goodbye to his other brothers. People stared, but didn’t dare say anything. Who would?

Tommy had the two of you home in less than ten minutes. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He didn’t need to say anything; you knew what was on his mind from the way he had pressed you against the car, nipping lightly at your neck before he opened your door for you with a devilish smirk. God, he made your head spin. It wasn’t long before he had his hands on you again, broad shoulders flexing as he carried you up the stairs, grinning cheekily at your laughter before closing the bedroom door behind you and immediately boxing you in against it, his calloused hands slipping under your flimsy peach dress. You whimpered, earning a chuckle from him as his lips grazed your collarbone, breath hot against your skin. 

“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you being as pregnant as Esme was,” Tommy groaned, hiking up your dress as he took the chance to press his cock against your core, hard and thick through his dress pants. “How fuckin’ angelic you’d look, belly full with my child.” 

You couldn’t help your reaction to the words spilling out of his mouth, hips bucking slightly against him as you reached down to free his cock from its confines, savoring its heaviness in your hand as you guided him towards your already wet heat. Was it wrong to want this as badly as you did?

“Want you to fill me up, Daddy,” you moaned, the fond nickname having the effect you wanted as Tommy practically growled, making quick work of the peach number, revealing the white lace lingerie set you wore underneath. He couldn’t help but stop and stare, in an attempt to memorize just how gorgeous you looked, begging for him, of all people. “Want you to put a baby in me.”

Tommy snapped. In an instant, you were on the bed, legs flung over his shoulders as he pressed himself into you, your dripping core stretching at the girth of him. You couldn’t help the obscene mewl you let out, Tommy reveling in your desperate state. He quickly picked up the pace, cock bumping up against your cervix in a depravedly sweet sense of fullness. 

“This what you wanted, sweetheart? Don’t worry, darlin’, Daddy’s gonna take care of you. Give you just what you need, aye?” He crooned, tone deceivingly sweet for the filth that was pouring out of his perfectly shaped lips. His thrusts grew faster, sending your eyes rolling into the back of your head as whimpers poured out of your mouth. Tommy savored each one, taking pleasure in the way you were writhing so beautifully underneath him, toes curling when you came. He couldn’t help but capture your lips with his, reveling in the way you moaned into his mouth when he fucked himself into you. You were a fucking vision, and you were his. He was going to make sure everyone knew it. 

“Tommy, please…” You were so far gone, you couldn’t finish your sentence. Tommy had already fucked you through four orgasms, pace relentless, and he wasn’t letting up. You almost thought he enjoyed seeing you like this: needy, touch starved for him and only him.

“Please what, angel?” Tommy murmured into your ear, groaning at the feeling of your walls clenching around him as he brushed against your g-spot. 

“N-need you to come in me, Daddy,” you managed to get out, vision hazy as you felt your fifth orgasm approaching. 

“Poor baby, want me to fill you up ‘till you’re leakin’, don’t you?” Tommy’s eyes were dark as he watched you nod and squirm, filling you to the hilt as your nails scratched at his biceps. His words themselves almost made you cum again, pussy squeezing around his throbbing cock. Tommy’s mouth met yours in a bruising kiss as he fucked you as hard as humanly possible, sending stars across your vision. He chased your orgasm with his, leaving the insides of your thighs sticky. He couldn’t help but admire his work, a blush spreading across your cheeks as he took his time in drinking you in. 

“Fuckin’ beautiful when you come,” he drawled, reaching for a rag to clean you with. Before he could lift you up and carry you to the bath, you stopped him. 

“Doctor says I should lay on my back for twenty minutes. Helps the chances of the baby forming, or something.”

Tommy wasted no time in closing the space between the two of you once more. “I swear, you’re from heaven.”

[bubblyhoney]

sarah i have thought of another fic request or like a cute idea i guess! i didn’t have anyone in mind when i thought of it so you can write it for whoever you want honestly :)

okay so the reader is a streamer but streams games like animal crossing, standew valley, etc. then (insert who you’re writing for) says they don’t like that game, but later ends up buying it and the reader is like “i thought you said you didn’t like this game” and they’re like “well i like you” and they confuses their feelings and they end up playing the game together and reader gives them a tour of their island or farm

i feel like this request isn’t good, but the scenario seemed cute and i wanted to share it. sorry if this is confusing or just too specific cuz i know it can be hard to write requests like that! but yeah i hope it gives you inspiration and you like the request <3

new horizons

warnings: language, a Marvel reference (hint: natasha said it about tony), stupid idiots who don’t realize they like each other, use of pet names, Uno rage, Hasan Piker's presence

words: 1473

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

A/N: i’ve been trying to catch up a little on my requests (i’ve only got a couple so i’m not super overwhelmed) but school and outside life has been taking up most of my time so this one took me a while to make! tbh— ive never played animal crossing so i did google some of the game mechanics and i apologize if anything is inaccurate about the game…. but i liked relaxing and writing this cute one so thank you for requesting hails :3

requests/inbox status: open

-

“This game is trash.”

Your head quirks, fingers stopped on the screen. You’re in the process of giving your character a cute new nickname; it’s kind of hard to decide between “awkward dude” and “elderly skater”.

“Excuse me?” Your chat comes alive with emotes and ‘KEKW’s, obviously entertained by you and your almost-more-than-friends-friend.

There’s a story for that later.

Sapnap’s rough laugh comes through your headset and he audibly swallows, the sound of a water bottle dropping onto his desk echoing.

“I’m just saying—it’s boring. It’s like Minecraft but you don’t like… do anything.” The grainy image of his bearded face shifts and you see him pull out his phone.

“It’s— you can’t even compare it to Minecraft! It’s a completely different game system—you actually interact with other people live in the game.” You huff out a dramatic sigh, slumping in your chair with a pout. “Just because you go into this lucid state where all you know is ‘touch block, hit George’ doesn’t mean this game isn’t fun.” (He scoffs at your awful impression of his voice. Your viewers love it.)

“Jeez,” he mumbles, fumbling with the cap of his water bottle. “Touched a nerve there, bud.”

You roll your eyes, getting back to the village in the game.

“Don't ‘bud’ me.”

The call falls comfortably quiet, the sounds of him tapping obsessively on his phone and you clicking away filling the silence. A gentle bedroom-pop YouTube playlist remains in the background, prompting you to hum along and glance at the chat to see a flood of “check twitter” and “Y/N TWITTER!!”.

“What happened on Twitter?” You mumble, confused, and pull the website up on another monitor. Sapnap just makes a curious noise, swinging back and forth in a circle. “Oh my God,” you say to yourself, fingertips brushing your parted lips.

“What?”

“Hasan Piker just followed me and retweeted one of my not even remotely political old tweets. Like from a year ago.”

“That’s— wow. Congrats?” Sapnap’s voice cracks, and his ears flush pink the tiniest bit when you glance at his face on Discord.

“I’m gonna go on record and say that he could get it.” You shake your head in disbelief.

Sapnap falls uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal, so you look past the frenzied chat and to his screen— wait. He muted and turned his camera off.

“Um,” you start, furiously typing question marks in your private chat. “Where’d you go?” You mute and turn screen share off for your stream, concerned that he might’ve fallen off his chair and broken his neck and needs you to call the ambulance.

The characteristic ding of a twitter notification sounds through your bedroom, and you look at your phone quickly.

“That’s where I went.”

Sapnap Tweeted: “all Y/U stans can choke on my dick”.

“Jesus, Sapnap,” you say, and rapidly refresh to read the replies. This tweet was deleted. “That’s so— that barely makes sense, bro. Why— literally what?”

His snicker floods your ears and you relax in your chair. Crisis: averted. “Don’t fucking— what’s wrong with you?”

“I thought it would be funny,” he offers, shrugging, and fiddles with the straw in his water bottle, smile fading. “And also Hasan pisses me off.”

“Why, ‘cause he wants a piece of this? Jealous?” You think back to your viewers, knowing they’re probably spamming question marks and coming to ludacris conclusions about both of your absences. No offense to them. You remember your stan days very vividly.

“I mean, kinda.” He rubs once at his nose, glancing at the camera (and what feels like you) before taking a sip from his water bottle.

“Wow.” You watch one strand of his hair fall from beneath his hat and brush against his full eyebrows. “I’m uh—I’ll get back to my stream. You coming? Or is it time for a Sapnap-snack?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He snorts and leans his chin onto the balance of his arm.

“That means you like to take a little snack break mid-stream and come back approximately nine hours later and you didn’t even eat.”

“You know what— fuck you.” He flicks the camera as you laugh at the look on his face.

The teasing mood is easily kept as you switch games from Animal Crossing to Uno, all the while slamming Sapnap with +4’s and skipping the newly-arrived BadBoyHalo at any chance you can get. It unironically pisses him off and he has to take a Sapnap-snack break midway through (only a fifteen minute break this time, during which you and Bad take a “What Kind of Bread Are You?” quiz). The rest of the night is filled with devious cackles (you), loud and sudden bangs that sound suspiciously like someone hitting their desk in anger (Sap) and the stupid barking of Rat, AKA Lucy (Bad). She’s cute but a menace to the sound quality of Bad’s microphone. You sign off stream around 2 a.m. with various forms of thanks and kisses blown to the camera. It’s been a refreshing night, actually; you’ve been busy organizing a partnership stream all week and all your friends have been busy filming or editing or what-not. Quackity had time for a little Roblox every couple of days, though. He’s got your back.

The next time you see Sapnap is after a two hour stream of him try-harding in Valorant and you finishing responding to an email from your partnership in the VC.

“Okay, I’m back.” You hear him shift in his chair and click a couple more times on his keyboard. You perk up in your chair, closing the email browser you’d been looking at.

“Do you want to play anything else? I’m down for anything.”

“Absolutely not Uno. You can go to hell for giving me 6 cards that one time,” he jabs. You scoff, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.

“Okay, the +4 was on me but it’s Bad who gave you the last two. That’s not my fault, sweetie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, trailing off as the clicking of his keyboard stops. “Hey, um—Guess what?”

Your heart beats loud in your ears at the tone of his voice. He sounds nervous; that’s never good.

“I’m scared to guess,” you try, playing with a little Minecraft dog figurine you have on your desk with fidgety fingers. “What?”

“I bought Animal Crossing.”

Silence. You stare at his discord icon blankly, trying to reroute the wires of your brain.

“Tell me you love it.”

“Well… I haven’t actually played it— but you said you liked it, so.”

“So,” you repeat him, ears warming but continuing on. “Is that what you tell all your friends when you buy something they like? That it's because of them?”

He seems to choose his next words carefully, pausing a beat to consider your questions.

“Well, I don’t have a crush on all of my friends.”

“You—what?” You stutter, caught off guard and stumbling. What did he just say? “Don’t tell me you mean you have a crush on me.”

“I’m almost positive I just did.” His discord icon stares right back at you, taunting.

“You know, you’re very casual for someone who just admitted they like-like me.” Your cheeks flush pink and you have to press a hand to your chest to keep your breathing sounding stable.

“Yeah, I’m kind of cool like that,” he offers, a huff of a laugh punctuating his statement. The conversation moves into a lull that you can’t help but know is because of you. He must expect you to say something about it, right?

“You are very cool, Sapnap.” You tilt back in your chair, sucking in a breath to prepare yourself for your next words. “And—Isortakindofhaveacrushonyoutoo.”

He must understand you, for you can hear the grin in his voice when he asks “Really?”

“Y-yeah.” You feel like a preteen again, all shaky and giddy in front of the boy you just asked to a middle school dance.

“Um, alright. What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you answer genuinely and swing in a happy little circle in your chair. “We could play Animal Crossing.”

“I’m down.”

You swear you’ve never heard more beautiful words.

He keeps his camera off for most of the time you two play, too focused on creating his island and asking you questions about how to fish to turn it on. He silently flips it on when you help him decorate his lawn, needing to show you in real-time the decorations he has bought and where you think he should put them. He looks cute. I mean, of course he does. He always does.

You tell him goodbye late in the night, eyes saying a little more than just “see you tomorrow”.

You like him. He likes you.

It’s even better when you two have matching gardens.

-

A/N: anybody and everybody (especially my precious hailey) let me know what you think!! :]

[yesimwriting]

Crossing lines

General Kirigan/the darkling x reader

Summary: This was requested by my friend @vvsdiamond28 who also writes and has a really good kirigan x reader story up right now! The request was basically for a fic in which the reader is out wandering at night and runs into kirigan while he’s in the banya and then they get to talking and some other stuff before he admits to only trusting the reader and giving her his real name. This gets kinda steamy bc of the request and bc the story called for it lol but it’s not full smut bc i decided that it would be better to do that as a part 2 so that i could add some jealousy tension haha

a/n i think im back?? Ive been working on requests a lot and ive really enjoyed writing regularly again. A small side note, after rewatching revenge of the sith im kinda in the mood to try writing an anakin fic 😭 pls he was my OG fictional crush,, so either send help or a request for him or something, Anyways,, back to this fic--ahh i had fun writing it but i still feel awkward writing steamier stuff so be nice!! 

-- 

Those that wander in the night, lost in uneasy thought--there’s probably a lot that can be said about them. But I can’t think of anything to be said about me. Nothing good comes from walking around a place full of powerful and tense people in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t take much effort to interpret my actions as suspicious, and yet I continue forward. I’m an idiot--just because I can’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to wander around campgrounds. My presence is barely tolerated here, I shouldn’t try backstroking in waters I can barely tread. 

But still, I walk, eyes more fixated on the open night sky than anything else. The moon is as full as an overflowing glass, the stars twinkling as if desperate to compete with a light it will never be able to duplicate. I sigh, pressing my lips together. Maybe the stars and I have more in common than I thought. Normally, that would be a good thing. 

Letting out a weary breath, I continue forward, away from the relative safety of the main tents. I’m still on the grounds, I’m approaching the border where the tents of higher ranking officials are. That should make me more nervous, but if anything it almost eases me slightly. 

General Kirigan is not the type to be friendly, and yet our interactions have always been laced with a touch of intimacy I can’t quite explain. We’ve been alone together more and more frequently, and I think that’s how I like him best. It’s strange, but when we’re alone some of his sharpness dulls, leaving space for something I might consider humor or actual personality on anyone else. He probably speaks to many girls like that when they’re alone together--a fact I have to fight to remind myself of--but it’s the closest thing to friendship I have here. Maybe it’s foolish to hold onto that, but I can’t bring myself to release my grip on those sentiments. At least not yet, when the kind moments are still rare and fleeting and no line has been crossed. 

The danger, however, comes from the prospect of not recognizing lines before they’re crossed. Even now, as I walk aimlessly in the night, pacing in hopes of exhausting my thoughts, I’m crossing lines in a much more literal way and even these are ill defined. I must be in new territory now, and even that I can only vaguely recognize because of the strangely humid scent that surrounds this area of the grounds. 

I’m near the banya. I didn’t intend to wander here, but the thought of splashing water on my face is too tempting to pass up on. I move closer, finding a sense of peace in having some direction, even in a small way. 

When the promise of water is only steps away, I begin to regret everything. There’s a figure in the bath. I freeze, ready to attempt to shrink away in hopes of disappearing before I’m caught. This could easily turn extremely awkward even though I technically haven’t done anything. Most people don’t bathe at this hour. Who bathes this late at night? 

I keep my eyes on the individual, trying to make out who they are and how aware they are of their surroundings in the dim light. Pale skin, dark hair--unbelievably attractive torso. My eyes linger there longer than they should. I force my gaze upwards, towards their face as if that can erase my ogling. Embarrassment leaves my face burning--I’m not the ‘ogling’ type, and this person doesn’t even know I’m here. I keep my eyes on them as I step back, taking in unaware features as best I can in the dark. 

I know them--I--Saints, it’s Kirigan. 

Fantastic. Of course he has to be even more impossibly attractive while shirtless and wet. I turn my head upwards sharply, more desperate to not be caught than ever. I would never, ever recover from being caught. Whether he’d tease me or be angry with me, I don’t know. I also don’t know which option I’d prefer. 

I step back again, my gait wider due to my urgency. Snap. The sound of both a twig and my chance of a stealthy escape being shattered. I cringe, craning my neck to the left in a desperate attempt to make it clear that I wasn’t watching him. I take another desperate step, ready to duck behind a nearby tree. Maybe he hasn’t seen me--maybe he’s distracted and assumed that some kind of rabbit or something passed by. He may not actively dislike me, but I’m not sure any semblance of favor he may have for me extends to this situation.

“Y/n.” His tone reveals nothing but his level of certainty. Ignoring him will only make me seem guilty. 

I pause, keeping my gaze off of him. “Yes.” It wasn’t really a question, and yet I still answer it like one. “I was--I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d get some air, and I was walking kind of aimlessly and I ended up here and I didn’t think anyone would be here.” Why do I feel like I’m making this situation worse? “I’m sorry--I’m gonna--I’m going to go now.” This is the kind of embarrassing moment that will come back to me when I’m trying to fall asleep at night. I know it.

“You know the polite thing to do after intruding is to make eye contact.” 

I don’t think my face has ever felt this warm before. At least he doesn’t sound angry, but his voice doesn’t reveal that much. I raise my gaze carefully, turning my head slowly. “I didn’t mean,” I exhale slowly, “It wasn’t my intention to intrude.” 

He straightens slightly at my words, exposing more of his chest. I stay still, eyes trained on his to avoid an accidental lapse. “You could make it up to me by offering conversation.” Kirigan’s tone is deliberate, his words measured and calm. I don’t speak, feeling like I’m being presented a test I don’t understand, but most of our conversations leave me feeling like that. “Only if you’re comfortable.” 

And just like that, I’m backed into a corner. A challenge. To deny him now would be to expose the effect he has on me. My chin raises a fraction of an inch as I take in that assured half-smirk. “Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?” 

Kirigan arches a dark brow, assessing my response. “Then sit,” his voice has not changed, “You want air and I want company.” 

I don’t think anyone that looks as good as he does shirtless has ever had trouble finding company, especially with the smooth way he speaks. Despite this, I step forward to accept his challenge without calling him out on his coyness. Each step is the crossing of another invisible line until I’m near the water’s edge. I make sure to keep my nightgown at a respectable length as I sit down. 

I make a point of extending my legs towards the water while leaning back so that I can’t be easily accused of being a coward. “I feel the need to warn you that I might not make particularly interesting company.”

He angles his head to the side slightly, drawing attention to his jawline and neck. I force my stare to focus on the water. “I’ve never found you uninteresting.” 

There’s something resigned in the way he says this. On instinct, I look up, taking in the slight softening of his features. The release of his usual sternness only adds to his beauty, a fact that I’m already resenting. 

“You may be the only one.” It’s not meant to be a deprecating comment, but I’m not sure my partial laugh softens my bitterness. I hope it does--I’d rather his interest than the interest of my entire unit. 

Kirigan shifts forward, the water moving with him. “Do you think that any coldness you’re experiencing has to do with you?” 

The question has me drawing my eyebrows together. What else could it be? I shrug, “I’ve considered it.” 

He nods once, eyes hardening slightly. “Do you always have trouble sleeping?” 

The personalness of the question shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does. Kirigan seems to only understand boundaries when he’s the one setting them. “Not really.” A partial lie--this time I’m glad I can’t quite bring myself to look at him. “It’s not uncommon for me, but it’s not something I deal with every night.” 

I risk shifting my eyeline when I hear the sound of water moving. Kirigan’s now resting an arm on the rim of the pool, wet skin dangerously close to my ankle and lower calf. “It’s not always easy,” his voice is low now, “Being alone with your thoughts.” 

That’s not the kind of reply I’d expect from him. I blink twice before turning to study his expression. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him seem so tired--so weary and human and in need of something. The line between his eyebrows and the far off quality of his eyes leave me with the strong desire to give whatever it is he needs to him. The urge to reach out, to touch him in hopes of breaking him free from his odd trance leaves my stomach knotted. That line is too clear to cross so recklessly.

I need to chase away the serious atmosphere he’s created. “Is that why you bathe so late at night?” I let myself smile, “To avoid thoughts?” 

“I like the peace of it.” Something akin to amusement touches his words. “And for the record, little dove,” the nickname is pointed and earns him an eyeroll, “The warm water doesn’t exactly chase away thoughts so much as encourages others.” He pauses. “You understand, considering you can barely look at me.”

This is the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened. The suggestive jilt to his words has to be intentional. Damn him. I turn my head, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I can look at you just fine.” 

“And if I were a Heartrender and could hear your heartbeat your pulse would be normal?” The question is teasing, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

The warmth in my face increases, spreading down my neck. Kirigan’s expression remains smug. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.” 

“No?” He leans forward, angling his head so close to me I can faintly feel the warmth of his breath on my lower calf. “I find myself amusing.” 

At least being around him like this is getting easier. I open my mouth, ready to provide some sarcastic comment I haven’t thought out yet. My mouth clamps shut on instinct when I feel his touch on my ankle. The faint contact quickly grows, his fingers brushing up my ankle and calf, leaving drops of cool water across my skin.

“What are you doing?” That’s a--a fair question, right? I’m not sure, rational thought slipping from me more and more with each passing second. 

“Nothing, really,” his reply is quick. “Nervous?” 

There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I roll my eyes, fighting against my instinctual fluster. “No,” a full lie, “You’re just getting me wet.” 

“Barely.” When he’s not busy being brooding he’s not much better than an irritating child. He retracts his hand slowly, fingers grazing my skin slowly as he submerges his hand beneath the water. The loss of contact should feel like a victory. It doesn’t. “Y/n,” he shifts closer, back straightening.

There’s an odd seriousness to his demeanor that almost leaves me reeling. “Yes?” 

He beckons me forward. I hesitate, but comply, letting myself shift closer to the water’s edge. Kirgan’s lips part, but no words leave him before he moves his arm, purposefully splashing water over my thighs and bottom of my nightgown. I let out an instinctively annoyed sound. “That is getting you wet.” 

“Kirigan!” My tone is as menacing as I can make it, but he continues to grin. There’s such a lightness to the look I almost forget to be annoyed. Almost. “I should tell the entire Second Army how much of a child you are.” 

My threat does nothing, his smile softening without fading. “They fear me too much for your stories to make a difference.” He says this flatly. “All of them except you.” 

I don’t know if I’m supposed to make something of that comment. A brief moment passes in which I think his eyes come close to softening. Maybe that’s a side effect of seeing the world as you want. Wait...what do I want? Him? No, no, I can’t. 

Okay, he’s objectively attractive and sometimes I think I may see more depth in him than he wants to be capable of. But that doesn’t mean I’m allowed to want anything with him. Even if he was trustworthy enough for me to be with him in any capacity...even casually, it could never happen. Nothing good could come from having relations with the highest ranked general and I doubt he’d ever want me like that. He likes to fluster people and I’m an easy target. I just accept it because being some level of entertainment to him is better than being nothing to everyone. 

“I don’t think there’s much point in fear.” It feels like a fair answer. The fairest answer I can manage, anyways. 

He sighs, the sound heavy. His hand stretches forward cautiously. I watch him and make no attempt to stop him from touching my lower calf. His fingers trace absentmindedly across the skin. “Of course you’d think that.” 

Again, I don’t know what to make of his words. Or his actions. He couldn’t find anything wrong with me just slightly adjusting my position. It’d be a polite way to remind us both of the natural order of things. But then again, someone like him is allowed to be mad about anything. And I’m not sure I want to remind us of our place. 

Actually, I’m completely sure that I want the opposite of that. But admitting that to myself is enough of a risk. I’ve already crossed thousands of tiny lines and what I want will require us to cross a thousand more. 

“I’m a little surprised you’re not reminding me how foolish a notion like that can be.” 

He lets out a tiny breath as he shifts even closer to me. “Maybe I’m enjoying your foolishness.” 

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or the opposite.” 

The slightest hint of a smile is visible to me beneath the moon’s glow. There’s something about darkness that adds beauty to things. I wait for him to reply, but instead of speaking his  hand moves further up my leg. I struggle to hide my reaction to his long fingers trailing up my skin.

He’s touched me before, sure. Tiny moments in which he’d push a strand of hair out of my face or wipe at a bit of dirt on my cheekbone. More recently, he had gripped my hip firmly to guide me through a crowd of soldiers. He had been in a hurry, stealing me from a conversation with the only member of my unit that’s been somewhat friendly to me. It wasn’t serious--he had just been rushing me because he only had a minute between meetings and apparently he had too long of a day to not take a moment to speak with me. 

“Are you alright, Dovey?” Normally, the nickname and all of its variations earns him an eyeroll. But everything is a lot less humorous with his hand half up my lower leg, leaving a trail of cool water wherever he touches. 

His fingers press more firmly into my skin. “Yes, I’m fine--it’s just late.” 

“Hm…” Kirigan breathes before tilting his head slightly. “You’re warm.” I stay silent as his hand shifts slightly. “Perhaps too warm.” 

If I’m hot that has absolutely nothing to do with fever. “I’m fine, General, I promise.” 

“Come closer,” he says, “It’ll take me no time to check.” 

...A little too convenient. My nightgown is still embarrassingly damp from the last time I eased tonight. “Please tell me you don’t find me that naive.” 

“Naive? No.” He lifts his hand slightly. “Warm? Yes.” I still don’t trust him. “I’m not going to do anything. I promise.” 

His eyes are dark and the limited lighting of the moon doesn’t offer me much in my analysis, but what I can see makes him seem genuine. “Why do I feel like that’s not the first time you’ve had to say that?” Despite my comment, I move towards him. 

The back of Kirigan’s palm is pressed to my forehead for less than a second. He brushes his hand down the side of my temple, rotating his wrist so that his fingertips can touch my cheek. His hand then continues to move down my jawline and then my neck...and then finally trails down my collarbone. I bite my tongue to avoid exhaling audibly at the contact. 

“Warm,” he concludes with a tsk, and yet he doesn’t withdraw his hand. “Though that could just have to do with the climate.” His thumb slips beneath the sleeve of my nightgown. “Perhaps you could benefit from joining me.” 

I bite my tongue to avoid letting out a surprised, embarrassingly enthusiastic squeak. I don’t know what’s gotten into him...maybe it’s the night air and the prospect of being fully alone. I should be strong enough to break whatever spell he’s starting to place on me. But I’m not. I’m really, really not. 

He pulls on the sleeve of my nightgown slightly. “I’m…” 

“Unless you’re nervous?” Another damn challenge. To shy away from this would be to expose myself. He tugs on the sleeve a little more assuredly, exposing my shoulder to the humid night. “Do I make you nervous?” 

His voice comes out a shallow rasp. I feel it straight in my core. “...Not more than you should.” 

“More than I should?” 

Ugh--too honest. I let myself get distracted. It shouldn’t be too difficult to explain what I meant. He knows he’s feared. He wants to be feared. “I’m sure we’re both aware that there are a fair amount of cautionary tales revolving around you.” 

His hand falls next to my lap. Oh? I didn’t expect to miss the contact between us so much. His expression seems to have fallen slightly as well. Was it my response to his question? It felt fair and straightforward without being too blunt. “And you believe every cautionary tale you hear?” 

There’s something stiff about the way he asks the question. His moodiness is making me miss his touchiness even more. At least then I didn’t have to feel like I made a mistake. Did I say something wrong? “Should I?”

“It depends on whether or not you plan on being brave.” 

“I told you...I don’t see much point in fear.” 

“And yet you’re still there.” A bit of humor returns to his voice. “Why is that?” 

Rolling my eyes, I shift forward, letting my legs dip into the water. This is as far as I should let this go. I’ve already lost too much more control. “Better?” He’s strangely tense again, a hint of something bitter playing at the smug look he tries for. “You alright?”

“Of course you’d ask me that.” He says this with a tired sigh. “You can never make things easy.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

He shifts backwards slightly. I can feel the distance between us like I’d feel a pebble in my shoe. “Do you believe all the stories about me?” 

Is he still bothered by that? “I didn’t mean it as literally as you’re taking it. All I meant is that people are intimidated by you, but that’s not a bad thing. It’s the way things have to be, you’re the only Shadow Summoner in existence and the army needs you to be intimidating so that they can act on your guidance.”

“The way things have to be,” he echoes, his voice strangely weighted. “There’s a specific kind of loneliness that comes with being feared by everyone.” 

Oh--I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him feel defeated like that. I reach for his hand without thinking, pulling his fingers towards my lap. “I don’t--I’m not scared of you.” It’s a weak attempt to comfort him, but it’s the only one I can think of. “That probably doesn’t mean anything, but I--” 

His hand turns in my lap, squeezing the exposed part of my thigh. “It means something.” Kirigan’s voice has hardened in a different way. “You’re the only person I’m certain of.” 

Everything in me seems to tighten at that. At the implication of something so personal from someone so closed off. “Kirigan, you don’t have to be as alone as you feel. You talk to me all the time and you do so in a way that makes it easy to forget the cautionary tales.” His hand moves further up my thigh. I fight as I try to remember our usual dynamic. “You’re the only one that talks to me like that.” 

“Have you ever considered that maybe the others refuse to take to you because of the favor I’ve shown you? The instinct to stay away from me is strong enough to extend to those around me.” Kirigan’s hand moves higher up my thigh. “To be near me is to involve solitude.” 

“I don’t care.” The answer leaves me too quickly. “Being near you is worth it.” 

He leans closer before resting his chin on my knee with no hesitation. “Careful, you don’t understand the line you tread.” Kirigan places his hand more firmly between my thighs. “Or perhaps you do...perhaps you know what you want to cross.” 

This time I can’t help the airy sigh that leaves me. Kirigan pushes against my thigh slightly, separating my legs. I feel his breath on my inner thigh before I know what’s going on. I can’t move, I can’t think, I can’t even breathe. That inability to do anything but feel my heart pound against my chest only worsens as I feel his lips press into the inside of my thigh. His lips trail up my skin before his teeth gently sink into the top of my thigh. 

“Is the line you want to cross?” He breathes the question so softly I feel like I’m being coddled. Everything in me feels too hot to think of any kind of coherent response. Kirigan uses his free hand to pull the fabric of my nightgown as high up my thighs as he can from his position below me. “Or maybe this is the line you want to cross?” Kirigan pulls me forward so suddenly I let out a tiny gasp. I’m not fully on the edge of the banya. “Or perhaps this one?” He kisses the skin of my inner thigh gently. Each time I exhale too loudly, his teeth graze my skin. He gets harsher with each passing second. “Lay down.” 

My body listens to him on instinct. How is this happening? How am I this powerless to fight against something that’s so clearly wrong? The sound of water shifting causes my entire body to tense. He’s pulled himself out of the water. Kirigan moves above me instantly, water dripping from his toned chest and dark hair and onto my still damp nightgown. 

Before I can speak, he’s on me completely, his lips pressing against my jaw. He kisses down my neck, his teeth grazing against my skin sporadically. He pulls away from me by tracing his tongue across my collar bone. I let out something dangerously close to a moan. “Such pretty, little sounds.” 

“Kirigan--” 

“The only name I want you to hear from your lips is the only name that I’ve not given myself. The only name that holds meaning to me.” 

His lips graze where my skin meets the hem of my now soaked through nightgown. I’m not sure the poor lighting is offering me enough coverage now. There’s no way the thin fabric leaves much to the imagination while being this wet. He kisses up my chest and neck until his lips reach the shell of my ear. 

“Aleksander.” The name is grace in the form of a breath so soft it’s more like I’m feeling the name than actually hearing it. 

He presses his lips against the spot on my neck directly beneath my ear. I exhale into the contact. “Aleksander.” As I test his true name on my tongue, his teeth dig into my skin much more harshly than before. 

I let out a partial squeak at the sudden shift in pace as his hands grip my waist. “Say it again. Say my name again.”

He traces his tongue gingerly over the skin he just aggravated with his teeth before I can speak. The soothing sensation is so much I can barely find my voice. “Aleksander.” 

His hand bunches the bottom of my nightgown, raising the fabric to my hips. “...Say it just like that.” Kirgan’s rough hand slips between the bone of my hip and the fabric of my hip. “Like I’m the only one that knows you like this.”

“Aleksander.” I breathe as he traces invisible patterns into my skin with his lips. “Aleksander.” Each use of his name earns me extra attention--a stronger hold on my hip, a more adamant nip at the base of my neck. I feel my need for him so heavily I swear it’s leaked into my bones. “Aleksander.”

When he pulls away, I fight the urge to whine. The night is still humid, but with the absence of his touch I feel like I’m shivering. He regards me silently for a long moment before shifting his weight again. I feel my heart stall in my chest as his hand softly brushes a strand of hair out of my face. He lets his hand linger there, at the apple of my cheek. The entire world seems to stall as he leans down, his hand cupping the side of my face as his mouth inches closer to mine. 

“I can feel the fluttering of your heart.” 

Any poor defense dies in my throat as his lips meet mine. He gives me no time to think about what’s happening as he presses into me even harder. Kirigan holds my face as his teeth graze against my bottom lip. My mouth opens slightly in surprise, giving him the opportunity he needs to slip his tongue into my mouth. His tongue slowly brushes against mine, coaxing me into total, delirious, compliance. When he starts to pull away, I react, my hands flying forward to grab his hair. He lets me get away with tugging him towards me, prolonging the kiss as he bites my bottom lip. 

One of his hands leaves my face and travels up the hands holding onto his hair. He pulls me off of him easily, pinning both of my wrists above my head with one hand. “Easy,” Kirigan warns, “You’ve been such a good girl, let’s not ruin it before we’ve started.” 

A tiny sigh leaves me. I can feel the pride he takes in that as his hand trails further down my body. His fingers ghost along the hem of my underwear teasingly. 

“Is someone there?” I’ve never damned the voice of a stranger more. 

Panic and dread roll in my stomach. I’m going to get caught like this, with my nightgown bunched at my hips beneath the General Kirigan. An unclothed, wet, General Kirigan. “I’m bathing.” 

Okay...good...Aleksander spoke. Anyone with common sense would run at the thought of invading on Kirgan’s privacy. It’s a good thing that the soldier had the sense to linger behind a thicket of bushes. “Pardon General, but there’s been a crucial development. A new strategy should be thought of as soon as possible.” 

No. No. The thought of losing contact so entirely, of having a moment that should have never happened be ripped from me before it’s even really happened is overwhelming. I feel my lips pull into a pout. Kirigan’s hand adjusts on me, his thumb pressing teasingly over where I’m neediest. I bite my tongue to avoid making an inappropriate noise. 

“Five minutes--I’ll be in the strategy tent in five minutes.” 

“I’ll tell the others, General.”

Great. I hear the stranger disappear, his feet crushing twigs and grass as he leaves us. Aleksander’s attention returns to me quickly. Disappointment swells in my chest as I take in the solemn look that crosses his features. His hand moves to my chin quickly before pulling me into another deep kiss. It’s too short lived. 

“I have to go.” 

Frowning, I lift my hand to trace my fingers up his arm. It’s softer than I should allow myself to be, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. Not when this is probably never going to happen again. “Do you?” I mumble to myself, half joking.

He sighs once, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “No pouting.” 

Now that whatever little bubble we were in has popped, I’m capable of normal feelings. Including shame. “I am n--” 

“Easy, little dove, I’ll remember all of this when I find you again.” 

This...this is going to happen again? “You’re going to find me?” 

“I haven’t yet heard your voice crack on my name as I undo you.” He punctuates the promise with a kiss to my jaw. “Again.” Another kiss. “And again.” Another brush of his lips as he finally pulls away. “And again.” 

My breath catches itself in my throat as he moves off of me entirely. Damn whatever change in the war that’s pulled him away from me so suddenly. I sit up as he stands. I’m not sure where to look now that he’s not in close enough proximity to cloud my thoughts. I should leave as he dresses, but I can’t quite bring myself to. It doesn’t feel safe, not when the man that interrupted us could reappear at any moment. Not when I want to hold onto his presence like this as long as possible. 

 He squeezes my shoulder warmly as he passes before bending down to press one more kiss next to where his hand is. 

“Soon,” he promises again. 

--

General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33