#so tired though. drive home was miserable.

[karda]

peace and love and wolves forever❤️

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovely! Me again but with an actual request this time 😭😭 would you be able to write poly!marauders with reader who just got their wisdom teeth out and they’re all taking her home and taking care of her while she’s all loopy and hyped up on pain meds. I think it’d be so silly and cute. Only if you want to though! Much love and thanks!

-🍓

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: mention of blood, effects of anesthesia

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Sirius had offered to be the one to drive you, but no one had let him because of how upset you all knew he’d get. As soon as you come through the door, Remus knows they’d made the right decision. 

“I know, darling,” James' voice is low, sympathetic, and a bit panicked, “but I promise you can have them in a couple of days, alright?”

Sirius leaves the dishwater to get cold, beelining for the front door. Remus is hot on his tail. They find James kneeling in front of you, untying your shoes while tears dribble off your chin and into his hair.

“I can make you a smoothie, or mashed potatoes, or any non-solid your heart desires.” He turns his head, mouthing help. 

Your face only crumples miserably, and James looks nearly like he might cry too but Sirius comes to his rescue. 

“Hey, sweet girl.” He palms the back of your head, careful of your face as he tilts it up towards him. “What’s got you so wound up, huh?” 

“He won’t let me have marshmallows,” you cry, words all garbled by the gauze in your mouth. 

“So mean,” Sirius commiserates. “I’ll do you one better and make you a chocolate milk, how’s that sound?” 

Your tears dry instantly. James lifts your ankle to take off your shoe, and you grip Sirius’ arms, beaming up at him. Or beaming as best you can, with your mouth all numb and full of cotton. 

“That sounds amazing,” you sigh, blissful. 

Sirius grins right back at you, his hand coasting down your neck and back up again. Remus can tell he’s dying to touch your face the way he normally would, but he restrains himself. “You’ve got a deal,” he says as James pries off your other shoe. “Come watch me work.” 

He steers you toward the kitchen, Remus passing a hand over your head as you go by. You give him a sweet, lovelorn look in return. 

“Can she have her gauze out soon?” he asks James once you’re in the kitchen. 

He sets your shoes by the door. “Yeah, it should be fine by now. They said a half hour.” James leans against the couch and passes a hand over his face. He looks so worn out Remus can’t help but cross the room to him, taking his hand and kissing it lightly.

“Was she very upset the whole time?” he asks.

“No, she’s been all over the place. Far worse than you, though.” 

Remus feels heat rise to his face at the memory. He’d had his wisdom teeth out last summer and reportedly spent the rest of the day clinging to whoever was nearest, grousing about how tired he was but never actually going to sleep. 

“Oh, uh…” James digs in his pocket. A few receipts and a dime come out, then a small bottle of pills. “They said she should start on these once she got home, but I can’t get them open. Can you try?” 

“Mhm.”

“Thanks.” James’ eyes widen, and he rushes off to the kitchen, saying something to Sirius about how they can’t let you use a straw. Remus follows a few steps behind, reading the label of the pill bottle before twisting the top off. It was childproofed, bless him. 

When he enters the kitchen, Sirius has you sat up on the counter and is poking around in your mouth. He takes out the gauze carefully, one piece at a time, and sets it on the counter. Remus makes a mental note to deep-clean that later. Your eyes follow Sirius’ movements, slowly widening. 

“Is all that blood from me?” Your voice carries a slight quiver. 

“That?” Sirius says swiftly. “No, that’s old blood. You’re good as new now.” 

“Oh,” you breathe, deflating a bit in relief. Remus chuckles, and your eyes fly to him, lighting. “Rem!” 

You open your arms wide. He steps into them, raising his eyebrows at James as you grip his shoulders tightly. 

“Told you,” James stage-whispers. “All over the place.” 

“I can hear you,” you say, words muffled into Remus’ sweater. He pets the back of your head pacifyingly. 

“How are you, sweetheart?” 

You take some time to mull this over. “M’okay,” you decide. “I’m a little sad they had to take my tongue, but it could be worse I guess.” 

“They didn’t take your tongue,” James says, like it’s not the first time he’s had to tell you this, “you just had some teeth removed.” 

“They’re dismantling me,” you say morosely. It’s clear you’ve accepted your fate. 

Remus strokes your hair again, leaning away slightly so you’ll look up at him. You do, and even with your glassed-over eyes and puffy cheeks you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen. 

“I’m glad you’re not hurting too badly,” he hums, cupping the side of your head. You smile dopily and lean into the touch. “I’ve got a pill that’ll help make sure you don’t hurt later, too.” 

Sirius passes you your chocolate milk so you can take it, and James clucks about how you need to take slow, careful sips all the way until you’ve drained the glass. As soon as it’s out of your grasp you’ve replaced it with Remus’ hand, your fingers tracing the lines of his palm with idle fascination. 

“Feel like watching a film?” he asks you softly. 

You hum. “That sounds nice. Can I have the fuzzy pillow because they’re taking me apart?” 

Remus huffs a laugh, and James groans. “Nobody’s taking you apart, darling,” he reasons. “The dentist only took the unimportant bits.” 

“Bit by bit,” you sigh. 

James looks in distress, so Remus takes the crook of his elbow in hand, squeezing lightly as Sirius eases you off the counter and into his hold. Remus thinks you’ll be lucky if he releases you before tomorrow. 

“You can have all the pillows if you want them,” Sirius promises you. “My poor girl, being taken apart bit by bit. You can have whatever you want.”

[jlheon]

𝓒𝐀𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 ୨୧ 𝐒𝐉𝐘

(𝓹airing) — sjy x fmr ꣑୧ 𝓷eighbors to lovers ; fluff & hs au (𝔀ordcout) three-thousand one-hundred 𝓹eng's note. america core oops 🦅 𝓫ookshelf

𝓼ynopsis. a sequence of events from your and jake’s senior year

꣑୧ 𝓶𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

01. new hair

it’s the first day of the new school year. you’re tired but less than what you’ve been in previous years.

this year, you can finally say goodbye to the early bus rides and even longer rides home.

your neighbor, sim jaeyun, has a car and parking and is willing to bring you to and from. you’ve never been so thankful for the blonde boy.

blonde? more like brunette boy now.

“you dyed your hair back?” you say as you walk up to the driver’s side of the car, he rolls down the window.

“yeah,” jake nodded. “what do you think?”

“it looks good…” you admire his new hair color and cut. “still a little dead though,” you reach through the window to touch his hair. his hair is still soft but there’s a hint of frailness from the rounds of bleach he’s been doing for nearly a year.

“maybe you could use that hair mask you always use on me?” he suggests.

“maybe.”

02. amusement park

this is the first and last time you will ever skip school. especially with sim jaeyun.

it’s his idea to ditch school and drive to the nearest amusement park, two hours away from your town.

“come on ____ie,” jake says as you buckle your seatbelt. “it’s SAT day for the juniors… we won’t be missing anything!”

“still! our parents are going to be called!” you argue.

“if they get mad at you, i’ll deal with them,” jake reassures you, putting a hand on your headrest while reversing out of your driveway. “the tickets are on me.”

“tickets?” you raise an eyebrow.

you and jake spend the whole day until sundown at the amusement park.

once you finally accept the fact you should be more laid back for senior year, you drag him from ride to ride. despite him being scared shitless of roller coasters he goes on them with you since he knows how badly you want to ride them.

the only condition is that he gets to hold your hand if he gets scared. which is inevitably the whole day, which he gets to use the excuse to hold your hand in queues.

he also holds your hand while walking around the park with the excuse of not wanting to lose you in the crowd.

as if there are a bunch of people on a random weekday. the only ‘crowd’ is just the families with children no older than five.

the only thing jake can confidently do is get you a giant plushie at one of the scam-like carnival game stands. which he carries around for the remainder of the day.

you hate to admit it but skipping was a good idea even though when you two return home both sets of your parents are waiting furiously on your front porch.

“it was my idea,” jake takes the blame as you peek out from behind him, holding his hand for comfort.

you both get grounded for a week and are forced to take the bus to and from school. that didn’t matter though because you both had fun that day.

03. sick day

one morning jake is surprised to see that when he pulls into your driveway that you aren’t waiting for him.

you’re so punctual and on time so it makes him worried. but he gives you the benefit of the doubt and sits in his car for ten minutes. maybe you're just running a little late.

when you don’t respond to his texts jake becomes more worried. he caves, gets out of his car, walks up your front steps, and rings the doorbell.

when you come to the door with messy hair and a pale face jake can already sense you’re sick and miserable.

“woah, are you okay?”

“sorry for not texting,” you sneeze. “i’m staying home today.”

“are your parents home?” jake asks, looking around your house behind you.

“no,” you yawn, rubbing your eyes.

“let me in.”

“but school starts in twenty, you’ll be late,” you try to push him out the door, though he’s stronger than you.

“let me take care of you,” he wraps his arms around your waist and carries you upstairs towards your room.

jake spends the day in your room giving you medicine, soup, and under the covers next to you. making sure he’s with you as you rest incase you need anything. not letting you get up at all unless you really must.

your parents come home to you and jake cuddled up on the couch.

to no one's surprise, your parents call jake’s parents and inform them about their son's whereabouts for the day.

jake does not get grounded for skipping that time.

꣑୧ 𝓪𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥

01. after school nap

after a long day of test after test, each teacher trying to get one in before winter break, you’re exhausted.

walking up to jake’s car with dark circles and messy braids. ready to go home and crash on your bed to start your week-long break.

the frigid weather has you shivering as you approach the vehicle. your nose and cheeks flushed red from the cold.

“cold outside?” jake asks as you quickly shut the door and sink into the passenger’s seat. his car had been running for a couple of minutes now as he got let out early by his teacher.

“super,” you yawn, snuggling into your jacket.

the car is taken over by a comfortable silence. the only noises being the car engine and the wind outside. keeping his eyes on the road jake asks you a question.

“how were your tests?” he asks while turning the corner.

he gets no response, at the red light he glances over to see you sleeping soundly in the seat next to him.

when arriving at your house jake decides that you look too adorable and comfortable to wake you up just yet. he knows you’ve been studying hard the past week and barely sleeping. ten minutes is what he tells himself, he’ll wake you up in ten minutes.

ten minutes later jake has also fallen asleep.

you both nap in the heated car for god knows how long. then when a continuous taps on the window register in jake’s brain he opens his eyes to see it is already dark out. the digital clock reads three-quarters past five.

your mom is currently knocking on the driver’s side window.

“hi jaeyun,” she greets when he rolls down the window. “i think you two have been sleeping for too long.”

“yeah, i’m so sorry!” he apologizes. “i guess i fell asleep while i was waiting for her to wake up.”

“that’s alright,” your mother smiles at him. “just making sure you weren’t doing anything else in here!”

jake can’t help the heat creeping up his neck in embarrassment at the suggestion you two were doing something other than sleeping.

“how about you join us for dinner tonight!”

“i’d love to,” jake scratches the back of his neck. “i’ll bring her inside.” he looks over at your peaceful expression wondering how you didn’t wake up in the past couple of minutes.

02. passenger princess

“get out,” jake says when sunghoon climbs into the passenger’s seat of his car.

“what do you mean?” sunghoon replies, furrowing his bushy eyebrows. “you said you’re taking me home!”

“i am!” the australian boy retorts. “but you have to sit in the back.”

“why!” the younger boy whines, crossing his arms childishly.

“because the front seat is for ____,” jake explains, unlocking the door so sunghoon can exit.

“not fair,” sunghoon groans. “last time i checked she didn’t call shotgun.”

“well, she always sits next to me-” he’s cut off by the back door opening and you setting your backpack on the middle seat. “hey, don’t sit there. sunghoon was just about to move.”

“oh! okay!” you get up, looking at sunghoon innocently.

“fuck you,” the black-haired boy says under his breath. “i’m supposed to be your passenger princess.”

“hi hoon!” you sweetly greet him, he suddenly doesn’t feel too betrayed anymore.

“hey,” he says as he goes to the back seat, switching places with you.

you all buckle into the car and as jake backs out of the parking lot you reach over the console to plug your phone into the charger.

jake never lets me do that without asking! sunghoon thinks to himself.

you start fiddling with the car plane on his screen. selecting yourself as aux and playing your shared playlist with jake.

sunghoon notices that his phone is no longer an option for bluetooth on jake’s car and feels even more offended.

jake hums along to the songs you queue as you sing along while reapplying your lip tint in the pull-down mirror.

jake said he hates this song! sunghoon thinks again, cringing at how down bad his friend is for you.

when the trio arrives at sunghoon’s house he quickly gets out and bids goodbye to you only as you wave through the window as he walks up the steps to his front door.

jake soon receives a text from his best friend.

penghoon 🐧 : that was disgusting GET UPP i am your PASSENGER PRINCESS NOT HER ☹️☹️☹️💔💔💔

03. corsage

the friday before prom on the way home school school, jake can’t shake off the sad pout on your face. he feels as if there’s a small rain cloud thundering above your head that’s making your lips droop.

“what’s the matter?” jake asks gently as he sees your sad state.

“i don’t have a date to prom anymore,” your frown becomes stronger.

“what?” he asks with wide eyes. “did you just find out? prom is tomorrow night?”

“i know,” you slouch into your seat. “her boyfriend surprised her by flying in last night and now i don’t get to have a corsage like everyone else! neither do i have a ride…”

“i’ll pick you up,” jake offers. “i don’t have a date either.”

“thank you,” you say with a slight frown still on your face, though inside your relieved to know jake is going alone.

the next morning jake rushes to find a place that has a corsage just perfect for you and for him to match with.

unfortunately, he doesn’t know your dress color so he brings as many different colored ties with him when he picks you up. picking a white corsage so it can match with any color.

when you answer the door jake feels all the air being knocked from his lungs. you’re breathtaking. literally. he starts coughing and you pull him into your house and pat his back.

“where’s your tie?” you ask when he finally starts breathing normally again.

“i have multiple in my car,” he says bashfully. “i wanted to make sure we matched.”

jake quickly leaves to retrieve the ties and corsage.

when you spot the clear box with the pretty white flower that matches the one on his blazer you’re quick to nearly tackle him.

“oh my god! you got me a corsage!” you squeal hugging is neck tightly.

“anything for my prom date,” pats your head, careful to not mess up the hairstyle he knows you spent a good hour on.

04. third-wheel

“are we waiting for someone?” you ask as jake scrolls on his phone after you two have been sitting in the car for a couple of minutes now.

“yeah,” jake’s eyes drift from his phone to the back exit of the school, finally seeing the tall black-haired boy making his way towards the car. “we’re bringing riki home.”

“hey guys!!” the younger boy grins as he slides into the backseat.

“hi ki!” you smile at him in the rearview mirror. “do you want to come with me and jae to the café downtown? or are you busy?”

“i’m not busy!” riki has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, knowing that jake had told him to not get in the way of your study date.

alas, you’re the one who invited him, so jake cannot protest.

“oh! haha great!” jake says as he grips the steering wheel hard enough that his knuckles turn white. luckily for him, that’s the least of your concerns as you stare at the way his veins have become more prominent. “the more the merrier!”

the three of you sit in a booth in the café. thankfully jake had kicked riki out of your side of the booth while you were in the bathroom. now jake was by your side doing his own homework as you both shared a slice of strawberry shortcake.

riki on the other hand sits at the opposite side of the table with his straw conveniently next to his mouth as he plays games on his phone.

“riki, don’t you have any homework?” you ask him as you look over at the gaming underclassmen.

“i did it in study hall,” he clarifies, eyes still glued to his screen like a giant ipad kid.

“i find that hard to believe,” jake whispers in your ear.

“be nice,” you nudge him, to which he shrugs.

you both go back to doing your work for a while until jake sees that you have one bite's worth of cake left. he knows you’ll argue with him and insist he eats it. so instead he silently picks it up with his fork and turns to you.

“____,” he says as he brings the utensil to your lips, waiting for you to get the whole piece before retracting his hand, “good?” he asks.

you nod your head as you finish chewing the cake. jake notices that some icing got stuck on the corner of your lips and wordlessly brings his thumb to your face to clean you.

you both stare at each other. the way your eyes sparkle when jake makes eye contact with you is mesmerizing. he dares to almost lean in until riki clears his throat.

“um, my mom says i have to be home for dinner soon.”

“oh yeah,” jake says as he awkwardly backs away. “let’s get you home.”

05. driver switch

you’ve been sitting around in jake’s car for about an hour now. you didn’t know he had practice today and he had only gotten to tell you after the buses left.

instead, he had you walk to the soccer field so he could give you his keys so you could wait in the car for him.

his teammates looked at him suspiciously when you approached.

“since when did you have a girlfriend?” heeseung, the soccer captain asks.

“that’s ____,” riki, an underclassman, interrupts, “jake’s neighbor he’s secretly in love with.”

“shut up,” jake shoves his shoulder as you were still walking close by.

“is that why you wouldn’t set me up on a date with her?” sunghoon pops up behind jake, startling him.

“maybe,” jake mumbles, taking the ball and kicking it along.

once practice is over jake walks to the parking lot with sunghoon and jay. he spots you from afar sitting in his car while reading a book.

he says goodbye to his friends who are quick to tease him and walks over to the car. knocking on the window so you let him open it.

“hi! how was practice?”

“tiring,” jake sighs, placing his bag in the back seat.

“seems like it,” you comment, “i’ll drive us home!”

“nah, it’s fine.”

“please! i never get to drive because i don’t have my own car,” you whine, “you’re clearly tired anyways.”

“it’s my car,” jake argues.

“but i have the keys!” you pout.

“just this once,” jake says while you both switch seats.

06. the date

after your almost kiss at the café, jake musters up the courage to bring you on a real date. the near kiss did everything to confirm that the pining he had been doing for you since the beginning of high school was mutual.

waiting for him to pick you up was seriously nerve-wracking. you kept telling yourself that this wasn’t new at all, which is true, and that it was just jake.

but that was exactly the problem.

you haven’t seen jake since he confessed to you and asked you out on a real date.

that was three days ago, the last day of school when he dropped you home after getting celebratory ice cream.

you’ve been in jake’s car with him more than a hundred times but today was different. you weren’t just driving to school or around town, you were going on a date with him.

at that fancy place, you both discussed going to back when you were just friends. scrolling through the menu on the website for a hypothetical meal turned into reality now.

“you look beautiful,” jake says when you walk downstairs.

of course, he went inside to talk to your parents beforehand. jake was nothing but a gentleman. he reaches for your hand and twirls you around once your feet touch the floor. he admires your dress with lovesick eyes and you think you might as well be dreaming right now.

you bid goodbye to your parents and walk hand in hand down to his car. jake reached to open the passenger door for you and made sure you were inside before closing it.

you fiddle with your necklace as jake starts the car, which he catches onto the awkward atmosphere quickly.

“are you nervous?” jake glances over at you.

“kinda- a lot actually,” you chuckle awkwardly. “it’s just kinda weird being in your car for the first time after we told each other we liked each other.”

“i get it,” jake nods his head before reaching over the console to take your shaking hand into his. “it’s just me.”

“that’s the thing,” you say. “of course i’m nervous jae, i like you, and now you know.”

“i like you too though and i’m also nervous,” he squeezes your hand. “this shouldn’t be any different from when we hang out! just don’t overthink it.”

“okay,” you feel yourself getting flustered, interlacing your fingers with his as he starts driving.

“at least we already know what we want to order!” jake laughs, recalling your late-night menu scrolling two weeks ago before either of you knew about the reciprocated feelings. “one less thing to be worried about.”

you finally let out a genuine laugh.

that night when jake walks you back to your door he does what riki interrupted you from doing. kissing you softly under the dim light provided by your porch light.

when you both finally pull away to see jake cutely pouting at the fact your night together is coming to a close.

“what’s wrong, yun?” you giggle, resting your hands on his chest.

“i don’t want to go home yet,” he says with a pout on his face. bringing you closer so your head rests on his chest as he holds you.

“maybe you can come inside?” you look up at him with hopeful eyes.

at the end of the night, you end up in your boyfriend’s arms.

[mygnolia]

take care of him, sunghoon's sick!

or alt. the pt 2 no one asked for... LOL

pairing: sunghoon x gn!reader headcannons! | wc: 800 | cw: food, sunghoon as a SIMPPP lots of kisses and cuddling

—

sunghoon does his best not to get sick whatsoever 

he’s an athlete and a student, if he gets sick he falls behind on a LOT 

but when he saw you in his puffer jacket and a smile at his competition, ofc he had to kiss you 

you were his one and only and he loves you to death 

simphoon! 

smiling ear to ear on the drive home as you tell him how cool he always looks on the ice

he gets SHY 

wdym his baby is complimenting him profusely 

you two  make food together, and although you’re still congested, you promise sunghoon you feel much better. 

makes soup and noodles 

yes he hugs you from behind yes he rests his chin on the top of your head 

the man is 5’11 (and i’m 5’4 mmmm how perfect)

one kiss leads to another kiss and suddenly you’re giggling from the ticklish feeling and how he’s annunciating every “mwah!” 

kisses all over your face 

he snuggles with you on the couch when you eat, and actually cuddles you this time 

“Someone’s clingy,” you joke, and he buries his head in your neck. “But it’s okay. I like it.” 

hoon is all blush blush

“It’s been a long time, I missed you,” HE’S SO POUTY AND BABIE 

You two definitely fall asleep with a light on, his legs tangled with yours, his hand around your waist holding you close. 

Uh oh!

Sore throat. 

“I think you got me sick.” You apologize like crazy, rushing to make him some egg drop soup and tea

“Shhh, Hoon, go back to bed, let me take care of you” 

oh the man is WHIPPED head over HEELS he’s like omg what did I do in my past life to get someone as caring as ____ 

He’s also whiny, and kind of quiet

he is a thinker and a listener so when he’s sick, he’s even less inclined to talk or be his usual rambunctious self 

It makes you feel bad for putting your boyfriend in such a miserable position 

But he promised you it’s not your fault (even though it is) and that it’s not as bad as you think it is 

no more feeling bad! You have to make sure sunghoon recovers as quick as he can 

You separate medicine into little containers and makes sure he always leaves with warm tea, cough drops, gloves, and any medication if he needs 

You drive him whenever, 1. because he is ur passenger princess! and 2. because you don’t want him to be stuck in traffic when tired

Always Always getting him layers 

and now it’s your turn to refuse his kisses and hugs. 

“____ I want to cuddle.” 

You shake your head, a smile threatening to break your stoicism. “You’re sick, baby. You don’t want to get me sick again, do you?” 

“But I miss you :(“ oh he definitely is following you around the house like a puppy trying to get you to give him forehead kisses and that sweet sweet tlc. 

He sends you voicemails when you’re busy telling you “hi baby i’m at home still are you still coming over today?” violent coughing “i mizz u and i wuv u”

AGH so whipped for this boy im…

you come over with more soup and cuddles and love 

he falls asleep halfway through his movie and you have to check his forehead to make sure he’s not having a fever 

dishes are CLEANED everything is put away and then you go sleep on the couch

now lets say the couch is huge and there is space for two 

WELL sunghoon wakes up in the middle of the night and sees you’re not in bed :(( so he goes out to the living space with his blanket and then just falls asleep on you 

and you wake up like wtf i cannot breathe??? 

but oh it’s just hoonie bb its okay 

HES SOOOOO CUTEEE 

messy hair covering his forehead and eyes as he sleeps on your shoulder, hot breath fanning your neck 

you just stay there until the afternoon because you could not try to untangle yourself even if you tried 

but he’s better! at least he says so 

he feels a lot more energetic, is attending practice for longer periods of time and more frequently, and you see the sparkle in his eyes again 

YAYYYY BB HOON IS RECOVEREDDDDDD 

you still dote on him until he’s completely better because you truly want to make sure he’s not overworking himself

agh he WILL marry you he will put a ring on your finger and boom you two have a white picket fence and two dogs and a cat. 

—

hello it’s me ren again 🤓 mmmwah i love hoon

[kentopedia]

dating port mafia boss dazai

contents: f!reader, implied violence, mostly dazai spoiling you so much, dazai is very soft in this, one litte nsfw scene !!

note: this reeks of self indulgence :,) my current obsession is pmboss!dazai being so sweet & gentle to his s/o

it goes without saying that if you're in the port mafia when you start dating dazai, he’ll probably want you to take less work in the field.

bc his main goal is keeping you safe, and he constantly worries about you when you're going on dangerous missions !!

though, sometimes you miss being in all the action. so, dazai will send you on missions with chuuya or akutagawa from time to time

he still worries, but he has no doubt they can keep you safe!!

he hates being nervous about whether or not you’ll come back to him, but he never wants you to feel like you're a prisoner in your own home.

if you want to go with him, anywhere or anytime, to any meeting, you just have to ask!

bc he trusts you completely <3 and he also knows you can take care of yourself.

if you want to work in other parts of the mafia, whether that be in training, intelligence, or behind the scenes work, dazai doesn’t care

he pretends to be uncompromising on some issues, but you can convince him of anything with a pretty smile.

but, if you're not in the port mafia, he (unfortunately) will make sure you have a bodyguard with you almost everywhere.

you insist its not necessary, but he knows he's made a lot of enemies that would love to use him against you. :(

though dazai has his moments of insanity (lol), he doesn't want to drive you away from him.

if you say its too much, he'll figure out something else. another way to keep you safe.

eventually, you come live with him, so that takes care of that.

dazai spoils you senseless !!

if he's ever late for a mission, he always comes back with something for you.

sometimes its flowers, sometimes its something even more elaborate

loves loves loves giving you jewelry

but everything he buys is very thoughtful!

he doesn't buy you expensive gifts just to flaunt money

its more that there isn't a price tag on things to him. if he sees something he thinks you'll like, it'll be yours, no matter the cost <3

"i'm home!" you said cheerfully, dropping your bag off by the door as you shouted to dazai through the penthouse.

the sound echoed back, and dazai didn't respond.

with a yawn, you headed towards your bedroom, stretching your muscles as you walked. the weather had been miserable that week, and between the heat and the rain, you were feeling more tired than ever.

what you longed for was a nice hot shower and a night in dazai's arms.

"osamu?" you said again, but the apartment remained quiet. there was no one in your bedroom when you opened the door.

you sighed, disappointed that he wasn't home to lay with you as you took a nap. though, your attention was quickly diverted by the newest addition to your bed.

a soft brown teddy bear, the same color as dazai's eyes, held a card, and a dark velvet box, paired with a bouquet of fresh flowers on your nightstand.

the note was short, but it was enough, and you couldn't help but smile as you read it.

i have to go out of the city for tonight. i'll be back in the morning. sorry i can't be with you, my darling. here's a little apology gift. i love you. - osamu

as usual, the gift was anything but small.

you flipped open the delicate box to reveal a gold necklace, a deep ruby dangling from the chain in the shape of a heart.

for a moment, you did nothing more than stare at the glittering gem that was edged by smaller diamonds, and you swelled with more love than your chest could handle.

carefully, you set the box down, wondering what you ever did to deserve something so beautiful. as much as you wanted to wear it immediately, you'd wait until osamu was back so he could help you put it on.

instead, you placed the card and the necklace by the flowers, and climbed into bed with the stuffed animal. as you nestled deeper into the comforter, curling your arms around the bear, you realized dazai had sprayed it with his cologne before he left.

dazai isn't the best about telling you how he feels. he is so much better at showing it.

if it isn't obvious, he loves buying you gifts! he has so much money as the port mafia boss, and he has no idea what to do with it. why not spend it on you!!

if you see an outfit in the store window that you like, dazai will have it tailored to your precise measurements. (which he has memorized, of course).

he loves shopping for you.

when he buys you pretty dresses, lingerie, and so on, all the other women in the store are swooning over him.

he knows exactly what you like and don't.

even if he thinks you'd look so beautiful in something, he knows your sense of style.

dazai doesn't want you to ever feel obligated to wear something just bc he picked it out for you.

of course, dazai always gives you his card to go shopping

and to get your nails done! he's obsessed with how pretty your hands look after getting a fresh set <3

he's loves them whatever color/design you think looks best. but i'd be lying if i said he wasn't obsessed with red nails.

dazai really loves the way they looked wrapped around his-

you rested your head on dazai's shoulder, letting your hands gently splay across his knee, your fingertips moving in a listless, delicate pattern.

though a film played before you, it was forgotten quickly, dazai's breath catching as he exhaled a laugh. "what are you doing?" he asked, and you smiled innocently, drifting your hand further up his thigh.

"nothing."

he blinked at you with wide brown eyes and swallowed, his throat bobbing as you reached his hip. you wrapped a delicate finger around his zipper, pulling it down slowly.

"nothing, hm?" he countered.

you turned to face him, sweeter now, as you tugged at his waistband. though dazai feigned disinterest for a moment, you felt him twitch beneath the thin layer of clothing.

his focus drifted down to your much softer hand, perfectly manicured and smaller than his own. he seemed fascinated, for a moment, by the way your fingers were moving. "your nails look pretty, love."

"i know.” you grinned. dazai's hips shifted, and you lowered his waistband, pressing a line of kisses up his neck slowly, teasing him.

you freed his cock, aching and hard, from his pants, and wrapped your hand around him. dazai let out a small gasp, though he watched as you lazily stroked him, the action perfected from experience.

"you're so pretty, 'samu." you watched his face turn red as he tried hard not to fall apart under your touch.

it was reassuring, really, to know that the most powerful man in the city was wrapped around your finger.

"not as pretty as you, baby," he said, but the word came out strained, raspy as you tightened your fist, running your teeth across the taut vein in his neck.

you laughed and moved onto his lap, kicking the remote off the couch before straddling him. his eyes melted into hearts as he stared up at you, begging for a kiss.

"you’ve been so busy this week,” you frowned. “i wanna make you feel good."

dazai jerked into you, breathing stifled as you brush your thumb over the tip. "you always do." his smile was affectionate, but his touch was desperate, digging into your sides. he was already searching for some sort of release.

"so impatient," you said, but you indulged him with a kiss anyway, his hands fisting in your hair as your tongue met his.

he breathed into you mouth, hot and heavy. "fuck," dazai hissed, lifting your hips to slip off your pajama shorts. "it's hard not to be when you're so fucking perfect, sweetheart. i need to be inside you."

dazai loves loves loves taking you out to expensive restaurants <3

he's not a big fan of crowds, though, so he'll rent out the entire place instead, just to get a private room for the two of you.

and if you don't feel like going out, but you want a nice meal, he'll hire a chef for the evening. one that specializes in whatever type of food you want

dazai's not the best cook, but he’ll do often, just because it makes you happy

he gets so much better over time, though.

whatever you want, he'll make it for you! and if he can't, he'll definitely find someone who can.

but! back to dazai letting you use his account to buy anything.

when you go to any shop associated with the mafia, everything is on the house

bc if the boss is going to funnel money into their pockets, the least they could do is give his girl some gifts !!

"is this... going to be all for you today, miss?" the cashier said, looking at the stack of clothing skeptically. he rang up price tag after price tag, watching as the numbers grew exponentially on the screen.

you nodded, smiling politely as he read off the total, a number that no average person would be able to spend reasonably in one go.

but dazai said you could get whatever you wanted for your birthday, and you hadn't let yourself indulge in a shopping spree for a while. so you'd picked up anything that suited you nicely and decided not to worry.

"how will you be paying today?"

you handed over the card, and the cashier read the name, glancing up at you with skeptical eyes.

"dazai osamu?"

you smiled sweetly. "it's my boyfriend's card."

though, the name had caught the attention of an older salesman across the room, and he was to the cashier in two swift steps, knocking him on the back of the head.

"dumbass," the older man swiped the card from the cashier before he could swipe the payment. "don't you know who she is?"

it took the man three more times of reading dazai's name across the plastic for it to click.

"i'm so sorry," he said, wide eyes suddenly anxious. "i had no idea you were—"

"it's okay. don't worry." you smiled, shrugging. "i won't tell him."

you meant it as a joke, but that only seemed to make the younger cashier more nervous.

"we'll take care of everything for you." the elderly salesman said, holding out the card to return it. "it's on us."

"really?" you pinched your eyebrows together, concerned. the bill was steep. it seemed unfair to let them take such a hit to profits. "at least let me pay for some of it.”

"no, don't worry about it. the boss said it was your birthday, so whatever you want, its yours."

for a moment, you weren't sure what to say. though, realizing that this store was just one of the many in yokohama that partnerned with dazai, you finally succumbed to a smile, and accepted their kindness.

you took dazai's card back and slipped it into your purse. "thank you so much.” you said sincerely, turning to leave with a small wave as you gathered up the bags and bags of clothes. "it was nice to meet you. i'll come back soon!"

though they said nothing, they both stared back at you with wide eyes, as most people did when they found out you were the one that had captured dazai's heart.

when dazai finds out how much you love to read, he clears out an entire floor of the port mafia headquarters to make you a library

its done far too elaborately, with classical decorations, a very intricate chandelier, and a view that looks over the entire city

there are special editions, original copies of your favorite books, books in languages you can't even read and so on

he went a little overboard, but he was just so excited to show you :(

"osamu." you stare, blinking at the vast room, not really sure what to say other than his name.

"what?" he's pouting instantly, wondering if he made a mistake, and you didn't like to read as much as he thought. "do you not like it?"

you don't think your heart has ever felt so full before, and you manage a shaky smile, wondering how it didn't split your face in two. "this is too much. you did all this for me?"

and he seems surprised you would even ask such a silly question, because why wouldn't he give you something you've always wanted? "if it makes you feel better, i'll tell you i did it for myself."

you laugh, and then you're launching yourself at him, throwing your arms around his neck in a warm embrace. you nearly cry, because even though he spoils you far too much, this is the most thoughtful gift you've ever received.

"thank you." you whisper, kissing him all over his face, and he smiles, his cheeks warm from your affection.

dazai leads you to a shelf after that, pointing out a few novels that have his name scribbled in the front cover, all with varying states of penmanship.

he's collected all his favorite books there for you, hopeful you'll read them first.

dazai places you next to him in every mafia meeting

if you're going to be his partner, you're also going to be his equal <3

and he knows that you can keep everyone in the mafia in line. he trusts you to be in charge when he's not there

bc everyone in the mafia likes you more than dazai anyway! (except maybe akutagawa)

and yes, dazai is the sweetest to you <3 but certainly not to everyone else

he disposes of people that bother you... far too quickly

the man at the store made you uncomfortable? he doesn't live in the city anymore. someone was too handsy? they'll lose a few fingers.

but if someone in the mafia says even one unkind word to you, you'll never see them again.

"sweetheart, what's wrong?"

you sniffed, wiping the tears from your eyes as his hands snuck around your waist. he pulled you closer towards him, sliding next to you on the bed.

"it's nothing." you swallowed, but your eyes were still glassy no matter how hard you tried to stop crying. "i shouldn't get so worked up about things people say."

"hey," he coaxed your hands away from your face, tilting your chin up. "if it's upsetting you, it's a big deal to me, my love."

you said nothing for a moment, but dazai remained patient, smiling softly at you as he stroked your cheek.

never able to resist the gentleness that he showered only you in, you sighed. "some people just said…” you trailed off, almost not wanting to tell him. it seemed embarrassing, in some way, to say something lewd about yourself, even if you were merely repeating the words.

“said what?”

you chewed the inside of your lip before sighing, knowing dazai wouldn’t let the issue rest until you told him.

“they just said that you only kept me around to fuck me.” you dropped your gaze to your hands for a moment, letting them rest limply in your lap. “that i was just some stupid bitch you’d leave behind soon.”

you watched the smile slowly fall from his lips, his eyes hardening with a fury that wasn't directed at you.

"you know that's not true." he held your hands tightly, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. "tell me that you know that."

you managed something of a smile. "i know. i really do know how much you love me. doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt my feelings.”

he nodded, somewhat satisfied as the cloudiness began to clear from your face. "who was it? if you don't know they're name, just describe them." his expression was icy, dangerous, even if his hands were soft.

"osamu, i told you it doesn't matter—" you frowned, looking away before he interrupted.

“it does fucking matter." his words came out sharp. "those men work for me, and i'm not going to let them treat you like that. they've got no business being here if they can't respect you."

at the end of the day, dazai's reputation remains very much intact. he will always be feared in the city, despite exposing himself as a man who's so so in love

but everyone in the mafia is secretly pleased to see him a little happier, even if its just around you.

[heyjudeb]

You're Perfect - Trent Alexander Arnold

Summary: After getting drunk on a one night out with Trent, the drunk pillow talk reveals Y/N's inner thoughts Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: drunken state, mostly fluff

Trent reached over to fasten Y/N's seatbelt after struggling to get her into the car due to her laughing, drunken state. She rarely drank, but Trent's big win yesterday led to most of the team members and their girlfriends celebrating at the club.

Before leaving for the club, Trent had promised to only have one drink, and Y/N saw this as the perfect opportunity to have some fun, assigning him as the designated driver.

"Baby, try not to throw up until we get home, please," he said, giving her hand a quick kiss before driving off.

"Throw up?!" she looked at him, clearly drunk. "Oh, please. I can go for another round right now!"

He laughed out loud, placing his hand on her thigh. He made sure to drive at a normal speed, even though he usually drove faster. He didn't want to startle Y/N, who often told him to slow down when he did.

Y/N leaned her head back and closed her eyes, a smile on her face. "You know," she began, her words slightly slurred, "I think I could totally be a singer."

Trent glanced at her, amused. "Oh really? What makes you think that?"

"Because," she said, opening her eyes and grinning at him, "I always nail karaoke nights. Remember last time? I was basically Beyoncé."

Trent chuckled. "I do remember. You were... something else."

"Hey!" she protested, hitting his arm lightly. "I was amazing and you know it. You were just too busy being all serious to appreciate my talent."

He shook his head, laughing. "I'm sorry, love. Next time, I'll make sure to be your number one fan."

"You better," she said, her tone mock-serious. "Because one day, I'll be famous, and you'll be just Trent, the footballer who used to drive me home.'"

He laughed even harder at that, the sound filling the car and making Y/N giggle along with him. "Alright, future superstar, let's get you home and in bed before you start planning your world tour." Trent pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. He glanced over at Y/N, who was leaning against the window, her eyes half-closed.

"Alright, we're home, baby" he said softly, unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car. He walked around to her side and opened the door. When she stumbled slightly, giggling as he caught her, he decided it was best to just carry her inside.

With a firm grip, Trent scooped her up into his arms. She rested her head against his shoulder, asigh escaping her lips. "My hero," she murmured, her voice slurred.

He chuckled. "Always, love."

He carried her to the front door, managing to unlock it without too much trouble despite her squirming slightly in his arms. Once inside, he headed straight for the bedroom. As soon as they reached the bed, Y/N tried to wriggle out of his arms, clearly aiming to lay down onto the mattress.

"Hold on, love," he said, lowering her gently onto the edge of the bed. "You need to wash your face and change your clothes first."

"Mmm... don't wanna," she mumbled, her words slurred. "Wanna sleep."

Trent shook his head, smiling as he knelt in front of her. "You’ll thank me in the morning. Come on, it’ll only take a minute." She pouted, looking at him with pouty eyes. "But Trent... you're so comfy. And handsome. And perfect."

He chuckled, his heart swelling at her sweet words. "Thank you, honey. But that’s not going to get you out of washing up."

She groaned, attempting to sit up but failing miserably. "You do it then. I'm too tired." He couldn't help but laugh. "Alright, babygirl. Let's get you sorted out." He loved this side of hers, always too honest and loving. She always speaks what's on her mind when she's drunk.

With gentle care, Trent helped her to the bathroom. She leaned heavily against him, still giggling and murmuring affectionate things. "I love you, Trent. You're the best boyfriend ever."

"I love you too, Y/N" he replied, his voice warm. "Now, let's get this makeup off."

He dampened a washcloth and began to gently clean her face, her eyes fluttering closed as he did. "You're so good at this. Maybe you should be a makeup artist."

He laughed softly. "I'll stick to football, thanks."

Once her face was clean, he helped her change into more comfortable clothes. It was a bit of a struggle, with Y/N being more of a burden than a help, but he managed. Finally, he guided her back to bed, tucking her in and kissing her forehead. Then, he headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed himself. After he finished, he returned to the bedroom and called out softly, "You still awake, love?"

She mumbled in response, letting him know she was still awake. "Mmm... yeah. Just... thinking."

He lay down facing her, brushing her hair out of her face. "What are you thinking about?"

"Everything," she slurred, her eyes half-open. "You. Us. Life. And... do you think aliens are real?"

Trent blinked, surprised by the topics she was overthinking. "Aliens? That's a big question."

"Yeah," she giggled softly. "I mean, think about it. What if they're out there, watching us right now?"

He laughed, hanging his head back. "You're getting deep on me, aren't you?"

She smiled, her eyes growing more serious. "Trent, can I ask you something? Will you be honest with me?"

"Of course," he said, still amused but curious.

"Are you sure you're real?" she asked, her voice filled with drunken sincerity.

He chuckled, confused. "What do you mean, love?"

She reached out, her fingers tracing his face. "You're so soft, perfect, cute... it’s like you're too good to be true."

He took her hand in his, kissing her palm. "I’m real, I promise." Y/N looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of drunken sincerity and vulnerability. "I have a hard time believing someone like you could love someone like me," she said, makingdrunken gestures as she spoke. Trent felt a sense of sadness by her words. He cupped her cheek gently. "Why would you think that, love? You’re everything to me." She shook her head slightly. "It's not just me who thinks that. It's also the people." Pointing her finger in the air, proud she's making a point.

He kissed her hand again, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "What people, love?"

She ignored his question, continuing with her thoughts. "You can literally have any skinny, pretty model you want, and even then you'd still be the perfect one. Yet you're with me." He paused, his brow furrowing slightly, still asking the same thing. "What people, love?" She sighed, trying to explain through her drunken state. "The people that comment on my photos, or yours, or the people that write in magazines."

Trent's expression grew serious, concern evident inhis features as he listened to her. "What do they say?" Her gaze shifting away from him. "They say I'm not good enough for you. That I'm not pretty enough or skinny enough. I mean, you've seen me naked, right?." He nodded." I DEFINITELY, don't have their stomach!" she slurred out her words. Trent gently tilted her chin up, making her look into his eyes, feeling a bit guilty considering he's the reason she's exposed to such comments. "You are more than enough, love. Those comments come from people who don’t matter. What matters is what we have, the love we share. I wouldn’t trade you for anyone or anything."

She took a shaky breath, tears glistening in her eyes. "I just want to be good enough for you." "Baby, you are!!!" he said firmly, feeling the urge to sit up and make her also sit up to face him, taking her face in his hands. "You already are, darling."

"Please, don't say stuff like this, ever again." He kissed her forehead, her lips, her cheeks, her nose. "You're literally so perfect, it hurts."

"You kissing me is making me feel... warm," Y/N said in the middle of crying, causing Trent to laugh and kiss her one more time. Trent gently guided Y/N to lie down again, hovering over her as he supported himself on his elbow. He looked down at her with a tender expression, his eyes filled with adoration.

"You're perfect, you know that?" he murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

Y/N smiled softly, her earlier tears now replaced with a warm glow from his affectionate words. "Only you would say that."

Trent leaned in to kiss her collarbone, trailing soft kisses along her skin. He could feel her shiver slightly under his touch, a smile playing on his lips.

Feeling playful, he reached down and lifted her shirt gently, planting gentle kisses on her stomach. Y/N giggled, the sensation tickling her. "Trent, stop!" she exclaimed between giggles, squirming slightly.

He looked up at her, a smirknt in his eyes. "But you're so adorable when you laugh." She laughed even harder, her hands reaching up to playfully push his shoulder. "You're such a tease," she said, her voice tinged with affection.

Trent chuckled, kissing her stomach one last time before lying down beside her, pulling her close. "I can't help it. You bring out the playful side of me."

Y/N snuggled against him, placing a hand on his chest."I love you, Trent. Even if you’re not real.”

He laughed, kissing her head, pulling her even closer to him.”I love you too, baby. More than words can say!”

[dear-ao3]

well good day to all of you. i have a tale. a classified, certified absolute god tier disaster of a tale.

at the ripe hour of 6:45 am i was awoken from my slumber by a Noise. what sort of noise? you might be asking.

the sort of noise that usually accompanies my father getting up at the ass crack of dawn and trying not to turn on the tap loudly so that he doesnt wake us up.

for one blissful moment i thought that i was at home, in my bed, and all was right with the world.

and then i remembered that i live approximately four hours away from my parents and all is not right with the world.

so i did what any person would do. waited for the noise to go away.

but it did not.

so i investigated. in all my bleary eyed glory.

and found that my bathroom ceiling light was pissing.

not just a little either.

a severe, unauthorized amount of water was streaming out of my bathroom light fixture.

so after banging on katyas door and finding a bucket and throwing on a sweatshirt i dragged my tired ass down to the front desk and reported the tea as it were.

now one thing you need to know about our building is that it is old. the second thing you need to know about our building is that the maitenance guys (we call them the boys) are absolutely incredible, like tumblr funny guy posts but irl, however they take for fucking ever to respond to any situation.

this time though, nothing was in clear danger of exploding or lighting on fire. so we made some breakfast. drank some coffee. watched the bucket that we had put in the bathroom fill up with water. and we waited.

and waited.

and waited some more.

then i noticed that if you stepped on some of our kitchen floor tiles they started squelching.

so back downstairs i went and explained the tea as it were once again.

and let it be known, that i worked for two very solid and very miserable years as a resident assistant in college. i know all about the woes of people complaining to you to fix things that you cannot fix and you cannot tell them when it will be fixed because the person who needs to do the fixing is otherwise indisposed. so my general attitude towards this whole situation was "hey man you can't make this better for me and im really not pressed about it as long as someone eventually comes and sorts out my pissing ceiling." which is a great attitude to have in this general situation. and especially so because it was about to get even more strange.

at approximately 9:30am our apartment was graced by the presence of one of the boys. the maintenance man. we will call him james.

we have encountered james before. he delt with our fuse box nearly exploding. that situation was not nearly as chill as this one was.

hes also incredible.

so he comes in and he goes "hey how's it going" and i say "well you know things are just leaking!"

he proceeds to tell us that the fridge in the apartment above us had a connection pipe that froze and exploded some how and that managed to leak all into our apartment. not nearly what i was expecting but hey! at least they know what's going on!

we tell him about the squelching tiles and he says that he will bring us a dehumidifier after he turns off the water and deals with the mess of the fridge above us. we say ok great! this is wonderful!

and he goes to leave the apartment. out of habit i had locked the door when he entered. he goes "aw man did you lock me in?"

and i say

"oh sorry!"

and he pauses.

and he looks at our door in disbelief. perhaps even utter horror.

and this, my lovely audience, is what he was looking at:

surprisingly. he was not staring at the entertainment for man and horse plaque that katya and i found while thrifting. nay. he was staring at the unfortunate combination of the printed photo of lando norris and max verstappens face.

now why are lando norris and ax verstappen on the back of my door? you might be asking. you might even be asking who they are.

and if youve been following the lore of this blog, you might recognize them as formula 1 drivers. lando norris of course being a mclaren driver and max verstappen being the reigning world champion of team red bull.

and how did they wind up on my door? well at christmas katya thought it would be funny to put a picture of lando norris on top of our christmas tree and so we got one printed at cvs but when you get wallet sized photos printed they print you four of them so we ended up with four of the same photo of lando. one went on the tree, one went to my sister, one is in our bathroom and now one is on the back of our door.

as for max. well. katyas partner drinks red bull and he was on the red bull box so we cut him out and stuck him there. neither of us are particularly big max fans, it was just funny.

but anyway. i digress.

james is standing there staring at this array of perplexing stuff and goes.

"really? him??"

and i go

"yeah..." not knowing what else to say.

and james turns. and he looks at us. and he goes. and i shit you the absolute fuck not.

"now what's wrong with lewis hamilton???"

(sir lewis hamilton being the mercedes f1 driver, 7 time world champion and absolute icon)

and katya and i go

"oh no no! we love lewis hamilton! we just respect him too much to put him on the door!"

which is true

and james goes "now what did you think of him going to ferrari?"

and i say "i thought it was an interesting choice"

and katya says "i was surprised."

and james says "you and me both" and then he shuts the door behind him.

katya and i look at eachother. and we both fall to the floor in fits of laughter.

let it be known that james has come face to face with a giant tapestry of mr worldwide mr 305 pitbull himself that is in our bathroom, on several occasions, and yet, he chooses to comment on our choice of formula 1 driver that is taped to the back of our door.

im still in a state of disbelief. my ceiling is still pissing. my floor is still squelching. and my maintenance man felt the need to call our my choice of formula 1 driver at 9:30 on a saturday morning.

[monzamash]

lando norris x you — “I want to count every one of your freckles with my lips.” requested by @percervall

“You need to at least look like you want to be here, Lando.”

Nobody really wanted to be back at the factory, especially in the middle of what was meant to be a much-needed break. But the big bosses thought it would "boost team morale" to see their star drivers scouring the hallowed halls, and a perfect dose of social media buzz to tide over the dedicated fans – a crumb for the diehards.

Lando had pushed back, insisting that his summer reset and the teams break away from the madness was more important than a couple of media bites, more important for the soul in the long run. He lost that battle miserably over a 2 minute phone call with Zak and found himself here, sat on a block of concrete looking up at you with tired eyes, a scrunched nose and a scowl on his pursed lips.

“Don’t wanna be here though.”

He was in a mood.

“Neither do I but we’re working and I don’t feel like being scolded by your boss sooo…” You stepped forward and held his heavy head in your hands, “Put a smile on your pretty face and get on with it so we can go home, please?”

Lando sighed, internally battling with his blatant distaste for having to put on an act but he would do it for you – his manager, his friend. He would do it for you because you asked; he would do anything if you asked, no question. There really wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for you.

“Fine but I’m only doing it for you because you shouldn’t be here rotting away as well,” He huffed and stood up from the hard concrete he had been sitting on for the past 10 minutes, hoping nobody would come looking for him.

But of course you did.

“I know you are and I love you for that.”

“Love you too.”

He would always blush a little when you said it, immediately trying to distract you with a nudge or a head ruffle but this time he grabbed your shoulders and massaged the tense muscles in your neck as you lead him back to the cafeteria.

You said it too often for friends – that dreaded L word, and too often for business partners. But you said it causally in conversation or when he would cook you dinner after a long day at work. Sometimes you said it during the no strings attached sex you had mutually agreed to, long ago. It would slip out without the other knowing, in the rush of it all – purely accidental and meaningless. That’s what you would always tell yourself and it’s what Lando saw as a challenge.

He loved you then, and he loved you now.

Without warning, Lando changed course and tugged you into a dark room – the only light beaming from the phone in his hand. We have heaps of time, he whispered and pressed his body against yours, back pinned to a soft, cushioned wall. Maybe it was a podcast studio you pondered before your lips were seized, all thoughts of your strange surroundings disappearing into his affection.

It was a breathless kiss, spiked with starvation and anticipation; it was something that Lando had wanted to do all day, watching you strut around the place he loved the most – his home away from home. You belonged in his world, perfectly poised and charming; everyone eating out of the palm of your hand. He laughed when you said that all you wanted was to blend into the crowd when in reality, you were the main event.

You always were to him.

“Fuck, you drive me insane.” Lando’s voice was barely a whisper, raspy and only for your ears.

“Honey, you showed up in the baggy jeans I have been begging you to wear and I drive you insane? Get out of my face…” You retort, pushing him away playfully before tugging him back by the jumper.

“Hmm, so you’re sayin’ we’re even?” his question was muffled by his mouth tracing your jawline, teeth dangerously grazing your neck, threatening to leave his mark.

“Don’t push it, Norris or I will kill you.” You warned.

“But what if I want to count every one of your freckles with my lips?”

He asked the question such sincerity that it sent chills down the spine he was caressing, inching you further and further into his grip with every kiss. Holding you so tight, you could barely breathe – every sharp inhale laced with his cologne, spritzed hours ago and lingering on the tips of his curls that tickled your skin.

A frayed moan rumbled in your throat, knowing you couldn’t let him devour every inch of he claimed because his actions had humiliating consequences. But god it felt so good when his tongue followed the slope of your neck, his question still tumbling around in your absent mind before you were plunged into bright light.

Lando’s head snapped to his left, yours following suit to find a familiar face – one you weren’t thrilled to see but given the current circumstance; flushed cheeks and a moment away from giving in to your carnal desire – it wasn’t the worst.

“Thought I would find you two here.”

The Australian accent thrummed off the soundproofed walls, “To be fair, not the worst spot for a quickie but a bit obvious, mate.”

“Thank you Oscar for the feedback,” Lando quipped and patted his teammate on the shoulder before exiting the room with your hand tangled with his.

“Any time!” He sang back and gave you the first genuine smile you’d seen all day.

Because like Lando, he didn’t want to be here – nobody did. But the devilish smirk and wink over the shoulder from the man holding your hand made it a worthy cause. It was never squandered time when you were with him, not even a second.

And you had the rest of the summer to waste away together.

lmk your thoughts, as always! + more birthday celebration blurbs coming soon...

[fluentmoviequoter]

Devastation

Requested Here by @newobsessionweekly!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: You leave Tim because he takes out his frustration about a long day on you. The next day, everyone in the station can tell you're both miserable. A surprise calls sends Tim into a devastated spiral as he wonders if what he said was worth it.

Warnings: ANGST, arguments, break up, death, mentions of execution, brief fluff at the end bc Tim deserves a break

Word Count: 3.4k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Los Angeles is seeing an intense spike in crime rates.”

“The Los Angeles Police Department has received more calls today than in the last two months combined.”

“A new, temporary emergency line has been announced. In case of emergency and busy 9-1-1 lines, please call…”

“Nearly 5,000 police officers are on the streets of Los Angeles city limits, with more dispatched throughout the county.”

As residents lock themselves into their homes in an attempt to be protected by the crime spike, you respond to call after call with no break in between. Some of the stops you’ve made were false alarms, but you’ve also been shot at, yelled at, and engaged in two fights between those pointless stops. Though overtime was approved, you’re nearing the end of your sixteenth hour in the shop and need a break. Grey called the officers from this morning to return to the station before heading home. You only get eight hours off before you have to come back, but you’ll take what you can get.

Tim’s place is closer to the station, so you plan to go there rather than your home on the other side of the city. The more time you can find to sleep, the better. You’re sure everyone is just as tired and in need of rest, so you would like to do something special for them in the morning. If you can wake up in time, that is.

“Hi,” you greet when Tim opens his door.

He is obviously surprised to see you but invites you in any way. You thank him as you walk toward the couch.

“Can I crash here tonight? It’s closer and I’m exhausted.”

Tim scoffs before he nods. He returns to the kitchen and continues cooking as you set your bag down.

“How was your day?” you ask. “I had endless calls, so I can’t imagine how hectic it was for you.”

“Of course you can’t,” Tim replies without looking up. “Considering you’re just a glorified meter maid.”

Tim is tired and stressed, you remind yourself, but the words still cut through you like the knife in his hand. You were in dangerous situations for most of the day, and though you haven’t been a cop as long as Tim, your job is still important. And you’re good at it.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you ask after a tense moment of silence.

“What I said. I do more than you, but if you’re so exhausted that you can’t even drive home-“

“Tim, that’s-”

Tim finally looks up as he cuts you off to say, “You barely passed your rookie exam, you haven’t made a decent-sized arrest in months, and you think they attached you to any decent calls? This city is ripping at the seams right now and trust me when I say you are chasing garden fluff because no one trusts you to do any more. You’re lucky they were desperate enough to bring you up from writing traffic tickets. We just needed help and you were there.”

Tim’s jaw clenches as he steps toward you, and you try to remember that he is just emotional from a long day. You are, too, but you’re not taking it out on him.

“I don’t want to fight with you about this,” you offer.

“Well, sure. Because it can’t be your fault, right?” Tim asks.

His voice is rising, and only the couch separates you. His eyes are dark, and though you don’t want to give him an excuse to keep going, you refuse to be treated like this.

“Why does everything have to be about who is at fault with you?” you demand. “Are you aware that things just happen sometimes?”

“Not to you, though.”

“If you think my life is so perfect, why do you insist on worrying about me so often? No one asked you to do any of this! You could have just asked me to go home if you were this upset about a bad day.”

“You don’t even know what a bad day is! What did you do today? Respond to all of the scared housewives in gated communities?”

You could tell him the truth, that you were inches away from a bullet intended to kill you, but you think he’d somehow find a way to blame you. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, and though you want to stop fighting, you also need to remind Tim that you’re not a rookie he can walk all over you and blame for every little thing that goes wrong in his life.

“If that’s what you think I do, I can’t change your mind,” you reply.

“Well, those of us who actually acted like cops today went through more than you’ve seen in your career. You’re a bad cop, which makes it harder on the rest of us, to carry your weight, but no one admits it after they see your pretty smile,” Tim snaps loudly.

“I’m done, Tim!” you yell.

You’re surprised by the volume of your statement, but it gets Tim to fall silent, if only for a moment.

“With what?” he asks.

“This! I am done coming back to you every day just for you to pick fights over nothing!”

“Oh, so now it’s nothing? You can complain about your day, but I can’t?”

“That’s the difference, Tim! You’re not complaining about a long day to share something and ask for comfort. You’re tearing me apart because you can’t handle your own emotions. I love you, but these fights aren’t worth it.”

“You love me but I’m not worth it,” Tim says with a sarcastic shrug and set jaw.

“That’s not what I said, and you know it.”

“Well maybe I’m just as stupid about emotions and relationships as you are about police work.”

You pick up your bag and pull it onto your shoulder quickly. As you brush past Tim, you murmur, “I’m not doing this anymore.” The door slams behind you as you leave and severs the connection you and Tim had.

After you leave, Tim sits in his anger for a while. He blames you, picks apart everything you said, and misremembers your words to make you seem like the bad guy. Suddenly, though, Tim hears your genuine I love you, but these fights aren’t worth it. He remembers the look in your eyes as he yelled at you. You never wanted to fight; you asked to stop because you just wanted to relax before returning to work. Yet Tim treated you as an emotional punching bag, something he promised himself he would never do.

Tim drops his head into his hands and sighs. He needs to apologize but can’t take back a word he said. You said you weren’t doing it – your relationship, he presumes – anymore, so Tim gives you room. The clock ticks slowly as he thinks about you, but his next shift grows nearer quickly. He texts you an apology, knowing it’s less than the least he can do. You deserve a grand gesture, a middle-of-the-night, in-person apology from the heart. But with an early morning shift, Tim knows you and he both need the break Wade sent you home to take. So, he sends a few simple words before sitting back in his misery.

In your room, you sit alone to wallow. Your phone buzzes, and you read Tim’s apology before you toss your phone to the side. It’s not enough to forgive or forget everything he said, and you can’t return to that environment yet. So, you don’t answer.

You fall asleep at the same time as Tim, though far away from the comfort you craved, with only a few hours before you’ll be forced to see each other again. Maybe another seemingly endless shift will distract you from your sadness.

Walking into the Mid-Wilshire station the morning after your fight with Tim, your injured pride and broken heart go nearly undetected. You attribute this in part to the specialty donuts you brought in; you couldn’t sleep anyway, so you left before your alarm went off to try to make everyone else’s day better than yours. Lucy talks to you in the locker room like it’s just another morning, even though you are heartbroken. Tim, however, is the talk of the station. His visible devastation and misery draw the attention of every officer in the building. When you step out and unintentionally make eye contact with him, the people closest to you can see what you’re hiding a little better. 

“I should have seen it before,” Lucy tells Angela. “She was acting a little different, but I thought she was just tired.”

“I’ve never seen Tim like this before. He is miserable,” Angela says. “And he will take it out on you.”

“That’s fine. But… will they be okay?”

Angela shrugs. “I wish I could say yes, Lucy.”

Wade notices you and Tim sitting on opposite sides of the room during roll call, and he’s the last of them to be pulled into your shared misery. Now that you have seen Tim, your misery is just as obvious, and even the people who don’t know you or Tim well can see the difference.

“Nolan,” Wade calls before he instructs John to ride with you for the day. You’re unsure if it’s because of you and Tim or something else you don’t know about. Regardless, it’s because your emotions play a role in your ability to be a good cop… but maybe you were never one of those, to begin with, like Tim said.

At least I won’t have to talk. Nolan can carry the conversation for both of us, you think.

“What’s up with Tim today?” Nolan asks.

“We’re not talking about Officer Bradford,” you reply quickly.

“Okay. Then what’s up with you? The donuts were nice, but I assume you had the time to get them for a reason.”

“Nolan, we’re not having this conversation,” you snap. “We’re cops, not friends.”

“Sounds like I’m with Bradford,” Nolan mumbles.

“You have no idea,” you reply.

Meanwhile, Tim and Lucy are stuck at the station doing paperwork. Today is slower, and there’s a lot to catch up on from the chaos yesterday. Lucy knows better than to pry after spending so much time with Tim, but she can see that something is weighing on him. More than whatever invisible burden he’s carrying, Tim is devastated. She has seen it before, briefly when one of Tim’s former partners passed away, but this is different.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lucy offers.

“No,” Tim replies immediately.

Lucy nods before her phone chimes. It only makes noise when another cop contacts her, and she rushes to read the message.

“Tim, Nolan said he needs us to meet them. He just said they’re trapped and it’s really dangerous,” she relays.

“Let’s go.”

Tim runs through the station to reach his shop, and his mind races with every step. Tim lost you last night, but he refuses to lose you forever. If – when you both get to the other side of this, Tim will give you the apology you deserve, he tells himself. And he will never be in this position again.

“Why aren’t you doing anything?” Nolan asks over the nearby gunfire.

You’re a bad cop, Tim says in your mind.

“I- I don’t know what to do, Nolan,” you admit. “I can’t do this.”

Nolan’s eyes widen. He knew you were acting differently, but your sudden and complete lack of confidence shocks him. Both of you are pinned in the corner of a warehouse, in danger of being tortured, executed, or some sick combination of worse things. You know you need to act, but your pride and your abilities are shot, thanks to Tim. You’ll be lucky if you don’t get shot, too.

“You can do this,” Nolan assures you. “You have to. Whoever said-“

“Move!” you demand.

Nolan ducks, and you fire through a nearby doorway. It draws attention to you and Nolan, and your confidence takes another hit as three men aim rifles at your chest. The red dots form a perfect triangle around your heart. Things could have been so different if you had just gone home last night instead of giving into your never-ending craving for Tim’s comfort.

“Tim,” Angela calls when he and Lucy arrive. “You don’t want to go in there.”

“Yes, I do,” he replies.

She pushes a hand against his chest and shakes her head. Despite Tim’s grumbling, he trusts Angela as a friend and a fellow cop.

“What happened?” he asks softly.

Angela looks to her right, and Tim follows her line of sight. Your shop is standing wide open as CSU combs through it. The windshield is shattered, and the interior is riddled with bullet holes. Tim’s attention catches on the blood coating everything. No one could have survived that blood loss.

“Where is she?” Tim demands.

“We don’t know,” Angela admits. “She wasn’t here when we arrived. Neither was Nolan.”

“Let me help.”

Angela looks around before she whispers, “You’re too emotional.”

“She left me last night, Angela. It was all my fault, and I didn’t even get to apologize! So, I am helping, whether you want it or not.”

Angela nods as Lucy returns to Tim’s side. He looks back to your shop and knows. He knows he is too late. That realization changes everything.

“You’re right,” he tells Angela. “I’m too close; I shouldn’t help.”

“Timothy,” she begins.

“No, I- she’s gone. We both know that. And I can’t do this, not knowing that she died out here thinking that I didn’t love her. That I didn’t fight for her.”

“Let me know if that changes, Tim.”

Angela walks away to continue investigating the scene. Lucy lays her hand on Tim’s back to provide some comfort, but he shakes her hand off before he moves toward the shop. Crime doesn’t stop just because Tim’s world ends, and if throwing himself into his work will distract him, he’ll let it. But being busy and tired will never get between you and him again.

“Snipers,” Lucy whispers as she reads something on her phone.

“What about them?” Tim inquires.

“Oh, uh, just something Angela sent me.”

“About her?”

“Yeah.”

Tim nods, and his knuckles grow white as he grips the steering wheel. “There were snipers?”

“Three of them, from what they can tell. A gun left behind matched the ballistics of the bullets in her shop. It seems like… like someone was executed in her shop.”

“Let’s take another call, Chen.”

Lucy nods and requests dispatch to begin sending them calls again. The first is a bank robbery in process, and Tim only hopes that adrenaline and devastation mix well.

“Gun!” Lucy yells before ducking behind the armored personnel carrier outside the bank.

Tim doesn’t hesitate to raise his arms and shoot. The sniper falls backward, and Tim wills his mind not to wonder how different things would be if he’d been with you instead of Nolan. Snipers took you from him, but this taste of retribution doesn’t help Tim. He walks away as soon as the bank is cleared. He wants to punch something, yell, cry, and maybe do it all at once, but it won’t bring you back. Nothing short of an apology that he can’t give will.

Tim sits on his couch in the dark because it’s as close to peace as he can get. If he closes his eyes too long, he sees you standing on the other side of the room, defending yourself from his emotional outburst. The argument was pointless, and you wanted to stop it, but Tim kept pushing. The more he thinks about it, the more he starts to turn his sadness into self-hatred because he acted like his father. He drops his head into his hands and asks himself why he allowed himself to be driven so far. Despite how he treated you and the horrible, untrue things he said, you told Tim you loved him. He loves you more than anything but didn’t return the sentiment in the heat of the moment. And now he never can.

“I love you,” Tim whispers now. “I’m so sorry.”

Someone knocks on his door, fast raps with no break between them. Tim rubs his face as he stands and walks around the couch-turned-fighting ring to answer it.

“Tim,” Angela says quickly. “We found something. We know where they were an hour ago.”

Tim looks over his shoulder to the cruiser at the end of his driveway. The lights are on, and Nyla is inside, ready to go.

“I wanted to extend the invite,” Angela adds.

Tim nods as he yanks his keys from the table by his door. He doesn’t bother to check if the door locks behind him as he races toward the car, toward you. Nyla drives quickly and parks outside an abandoned house less than fifteen minutes later. While Tim looks at the house, he sees someone move in the window.

“Somebody’s inside,” he alerts.

Nyla nods and instructs Tim to wait while she and Angela approach the house. Before they exit the car, the person walks out of the front door with their hands up. Tim throws the door open and sprints across the yard before anyone says anything.

“Nolan,” he calls.

“What happened here?” Nyla asks.

Her tone makes Tim look around, and he counts at least eight bodies in the front yard. Most are covered, and the desperation, dread, misery, and heartbreak churn in his stomach as he wonders if any of them are you.

“We walked into an ambush. She got one of them down, but we were cornered, surrounded. They dragged their ‘failure’ to the shop and finished him off before they brought us here.” After he explains, Nolan turns to Tim and says, “She asked me to give you this.”

He pulls a bloody piece of paper from his pocket and passes it to Tim, who accepts it wordlessly.

“Where…” is she? Tim wants to say, but he can’t finish the question.

“Uh, she’s inside,” Nolan answers.

Tim hears confirmation that you’re here and runs through the carnage-covered yard and house to find you. He grips the letter tightly as he navigates through the dark house. Tim stops when he sees your badge lying in a corner, and squats to retrieve it. It’s scuffed and bloody, but Tim can’t leave any piece of you behind. He tucks your letter into his pocket to hold your badge.

“Officer Bradford?”

Tim turns quickly and nearly trips over a bloody hammer. He would recognize that voice anywhere. When his eyes finish adjusting in the darkness, and he sees you slumped in the opposite corner, propped up behind the door, he crosses the room in the time it takes you to blink. Tim’s hands cup your face gently as he leans closer to you.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

“Save it,” you reply. “This isn’t over yet. He said he was coming back.”

“Where’d he go?” Tim asks, effortlessly switching back to cop mode.

You smile, and Tim swallows harshly as your injured lip splits and produces a fresh bead of blood. “To rob a bank. As if you weren’t busy enough, right?”

The sniper at the bank, Tim remembers. “He’s gone,” he says quickly. “We got him.”

“You got him?” you clarify.

Tim shakes his head, and you raise your hands to his sides as you lean toward him.

“I could never do this alone. I can’t do any of this without you.”

“Did you read my letter?”

Tim pulls the paper from his back pocket and shakes his head as he reads the two short sentences.

“I forgive you. I love you,” you say as Tim reads the same words.

“It won’t happen again,” Tim promises.

“It might. We have hard jobs, but we can get through it. Right?”

Tim’s reply is a careful kiss to your forehead before he yells for a paramedic. Nolan leads Angela and Nyla inside a moment later, and they enter the door beside you.

“You could’ve mentioned she was alive,” Tim tells Nolan.

“You ran in before I said, ‘she’d like to see your face first, considering she almost died and you were the only thing she talked about,’” Nolan answers.

“Shut up,” you and Tim say together.

“This is the thanks,” Nolan mumbles.

“Can I crash at your place?” you ask Tim. “Without the argument?”

“Wouldn’t let you go anywhere else. The best cop I know deserves some comfort.”

“I thought I was the best cop you knew,” Angela teases.

“I love you,” you tell Tim.

“I love you,” he answers. After he looks into your eyes and smiles, he yells, “Where is the ambulance?”

[rogueddie]

Steve groans at the sound of his alarm, batting his hand around the side table until he hits it hard enough to shut it up. He gets up, rubbing his eyes as he moves to the bathroom on autopilot.

He's not just tired, he's exhausted. But he always is at Christmas. He struggles to get enough sleep at the best of times but, since Dustin would kill him if he's late, Christmas is the one time he has to wake up early. It's miserable, every year. The motels only add to his suffering.

As he's washing his face, he freezes. He quickly rinses his face, prodding at the skin. There's no lines, no wrinkles, no crows feet. He doesn't even have his beard. That's when he notices his hair. His hand shoots back, grabbing at the longer strands at the back of his neck.

He hasn't had his mullet for at least 30 years. Not since 1989.

Hurrying back to his room, he nearly recoils. He'd forgotten about the plaid walls and curtains. But he quickly brushes that aside, quickly looking around for anything out of the ordinary. He wishes he could just pull out his mobile, sure that Robin would-

Robin!

He darts down the stairs, to the main phone. But is immediately reminded of how bad the old phones were. He can't remember what Robins old number was and he's sure the one he does remember will be wrong. And it's not written down anywhere either.

But it starts ringing, just as he starts walking away.

"Hello?" He says, struggling to keep his voice even.

"When will you get here?" Dustin asks. "You said you'd be up by now!"

"Dustin, oh thank god, I'm so glad to hear your voice," Steve sighs, rubbing his forehead. "Something really fucking weird is going on with me, dude."

"Weird? Like... Upside Down weird?"

"What? El shut- or has... what year is it?"

"1985. Are you ok? What's going on?"

Steve laughs, high and hysterical. "Uh, well... when I went to sleep last night, it was still 2021, so... no. I'm not ok."

"Are you being serious?"

"Unfortunately. Wait, 1985... that means-"

"No! Don't tell me!" Dustin yells so loud that Steve has to pull the phone away from his ear for a moment. "You can't just tell people what's going to happen! You could change the future!"

"Good!"

"No, not good! You might be trying to make things better, but you could make them worse. Especially if you actually tell people what's going to happen. You need to be subtle."

"Subtle, right..." Steve looks towards the door, pondering. "Right... uh... I'll see you later."

"What? Steve-!"

He hangs up before Dustin can continue to scold him, hurrying up the stairs and throwing on the first clean polo and jeans he finds. His old trainers are at the bottom of the stairs, just as remembers them being- they'd lasted decades before they fell apart, even though they'd always been loose and worn enough that Steve could slide them on, even though he keeps them tied.

It takes him a while to drive to the trailer park. He takes a wrong turn, completely forgetting the way. It's been so long since he's been in Hawkins and, even then, he wasn't familiar with this route.

"Um, hi, sir," Steve says, trying to smile when faced with Eddies uncle. He's not sure if he was always so stand-off or if Eddies death did that to him. "Is- is Eddie home?"

He grunts, eyeing Steve. "Gimme a moment."

He shuts the door, but he doesn't leave Steve waiting for long.

Eddie is the one to open the door. He gently pushes Steve back from the door, gesturing for him to follow him. Steve jogs to keep up with his fast pace, too busy staring to pay attention to how tense he is.

"Alright, what do you want?" Eddie sounds annoyed. Impatient. He's glaring at Steve and crossing his arms.

He looks amazing.

"Right, sorry," Steve shakes his head. "Sorry. Uh, this... ok, there's no way I can say this without sounding insane, so I'm just gonna say it, alright?"

"... Alright?"

"Chrissy Cunningham is going to try and buy from you in March. I don't know what she asks for, but if it means you bring her back here, don't. Just- sell her some weed, whatever you can carry on you. Don't bring her back here."

"She your girlfriend, or something?"

"No. God no. I just... something bad will happen. I'm sorry, I know that's... I sound stupid. But please, please," Steve can't help but step forward, grabbing Eddies hand. "Please don't bring her back here."

"Ok, alright, I won't sell to her," Eddies eyes are a little wide. "Jesus. I'll take your word for it."

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

Eddie stares at him for a moment, raises a brow. "Is that it? You, uh, gonna let me go now, big boy?"

"Oh! Right, sorry, yeah. Um. Merry Christmas?"

"Yeah," Eddie laughs, starting to head back to the trailer. "Merry Christmas."

Dustin yells at him for an hour straight once he drives to his house. He's red in the face by the time he finishes and looks one wrong word away from hitting him. But Steves already done what he wanted to do, he won't change it now and he won't tell Dustin what he said so he can either.

But he does tell Dustin the time to start paying attention. Without Eddie to get them on the case, they won't figure out how to save Max in time. He doesn't tell Dustin anything either, just the date of Chrissys death. He wishes he could think of a way to save her, but his mind runs a blank. And Dustin won't let him ask him. And Dustin refuses to leave him alone long enough to ask anyone else.

By the time he goes to bed, he's happy to think that he's done enough. Though, like Dustin, he wonders what will happen next. If he'll stay in 1985 or wake up in the changed future. Wonders what that would mean for his past self.

He wakes up warm, comfortable, and well rested. Someone has their arms around his waist, pressed fully up behind him, light kisses trailing up his neck, along his jaw.

Steve hums, yawning. "Who's 'at?"

"Morning to you too," the person behind him snickers.

Curious, Steve turns. He freezes, eyes wide. "Eddie?"

"Who else would it be?" Eddie smirks, but that slowly drops, realization dawning on him. "You were just in the past, weren't you? Wait- shit, no, hold on, do you remember anything past that?"

"I don't- ow!" Steve squeezes his eyes shut, head throbbing. "Fuck. Ow, fucking... shit."

"What? What is it? Baby, what's wrong?"

"I don't know," Steve whines, clutching at his head. "You were dead but you- got a job at the record store?"

"Oh, ok, this is good," Eddie curls his arms around him, pulling him close. "This is good. Dustin said this might happen. It's the conflicting timelines or whatever. Your timeline catching up with the new one."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Honestly? I don't know. I just know that, like, you might have two sets of memories- or your original ones get forgotten, or something. But this... this is good. God, Stevie, the idea that you'd forget this current timeline..."

He tries to think of what might have changed, new memories or old ones he can't recall. It just makes his head hurt. "How long will it be until I, like... remember everything? I barely remember the 86 with you alive."

"Who knows. Weeks, maybe? Might always be confusing. But... um. I died? Was that... why you were so adamant that I didn't sell to Chrissy?"

"Yeah, it- it got you caught up in the, uh... stuff."

"The Upside Down? Yeah, I did get caught up in that. Hard not to when your town suddenly rips apart. So, what, I originally got caught up earlier?"

"Right at the start. You, uh... you died to save us."

"Now I know you're lying. I'm not one for the big hero moves, that's your job."

"Shut up," Steve snaps. He lifts his head so he can glare. "Shut up. You were a hero. You were- you are. You- you-"

"Hey," Eddie wraps him up in his arms, one hand coming up to brush through his hair. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, Stevie, I'm really sorry. I'm ok though, yeah? You made sure of that. It's ok. I got you. I've got you. We're safe."

Steve sniffles, grimacing at the snot he leaves on Eddies top. The sight brings forth vague, distant memories- his but also... not.

"You do this a lot, huh?" Steve asks.

Eddie smiles, cupping his face, thumb brushing some tears off his cheek. "Yeah. It's not always easy, but I'm always here."

"Oh, wait... have I missed Christmas?"

"Just the day. Dustin remembered that you said 2021 so... we all wanted to wait. We're doing Christmas today."

"Really? Why?"

"Mostly because they wanted to be here, just in case. You made us promise, too."

"Just in case?"

"In case you forgot, baby. We don't know what you changed. Sandy is going to be very disappointed- she was excited to meet you again."

"Sandy?" Steve frowns, but the memory almost immediately hits him.

A baby, premature, and so small that she was barely bigger than his hands. Dustin's face, wet with tears but so proud, introducing the baby to Uncle Steve.

"Oh, Sandy," Steve whispers the name with reverence.

Eddie kisses him, almost desperately. He pulls back fast though. "Sorry, that was- fuck, Stevie. You're really remembering."

He sobs, startling Steve. "Woah, hey, Eds."

"Sorry. Fuck, we prepared so much but it... God, Steve, I don't think I'd be able to handle it if you never remembered again."

Steve presses a small, hesitant kiss to his cheek. "I don't think you'd have too much to worry about."

"Yeah, that's great," Eddie laughs. "My husband would've found me attractive even with amnesia."

"We're married?"

Eddie groans, flopping onto his back. "Of course that's what gets you excited. Time travel? Too boring for Steve Munson! Where's the adventure? But marriage?!" Eddie gasps dramatically. "Oh my, mister, that sounds mighty exciting!"

"Hey, I'm supposed to be the love of your life, stop being mean to me."

"Oh, don't go pouting at me like that, big boy. Even you should know that I have no self-restraint."

"Promise?"

[its-all-papaya]

Okay hear me out. Landoscar & 18 but like. It's towards the end of an exhausting triple-header, they're both tired as hell and have seen more of each other than any other breathing thing (because of the jetting around the world to get to races and because they're both idiots not confessing their feelings to each other). So. They say goodnight to each other as always after idek, playing Fifa, but this time one of them steps in and in their exhaustion accidently doesn't only clasp the other's hand but presses a kiss to the corner of the mouth as well. Without noticing (?) and with the other one only noticing after a few seconds (?). Gay panic follows. Idk what happens before or after but. Do you see the vision.

I SEE THE VISION, anon. don't you worry.

send me a ship and a number and i will write a kiss

18. casually | landoscar | 1.1k (lol)

In theory, Lando’s probably been doing this long enough to know better. He’s been in Formula 1 for six seasons and he’s been driving in time zones outside his own for more than twice that long, but coping mechanisms don’t grow on trees. Or they do, maybe, if he thinks about it… Jon had given him a packet at some point about sleep schedules and adjusting, and paper comes from trees, and so if he thinks about it kind of sideways, maybe his healthy coping mechanism had grown on a tree, and he’d just failed to read it before losing it in a drawer somewhere. Or maybe (and this is his leading option), he's just really fucking tired.

In his defense, Oscar isn’t doing any better.

They’d kept up pretenses exactly one day into the doubleheader, then Lando’d received the hey, are you awake? message at 1:45 a.m. local time on Thursday night in Baku, and who was he to ignore that kind of thing? He’s just a man, really. He receives a ‘you up?’ text and his sweatshirt is zipped over his bare chest before he can blink. Pavlovian, or some shit. Even if it’s not actually like that. He’s too tired to know the difference. Or something.

At any rate, if neither of them is going to sleep anyway, it doesn’t really matter if they’re lying in their own beds with their eyes closed or if they’re lying on a couch together playing Fifa. Or not lying together, but, like… both on the same couch. Lying down. Playing Fifa. The point is, it’ll be 4 a.m. and they’ll both be up either way, at least this way they’re less miserable. And Lando won’t tell Kim if Oscar doesn’t tell Jon and neither of them tell Zak or Andrea.

By the time they hit Saturday night in Baku, they’re both kind of adjusted, which is good. They don’t even make it to the part of the night where he can lay his head on Oscar’s thigh and blame it on the proximity to sunrise, which is really cool. Lando sleeps, like…a normal amount ahead of the race. That’s important.

But see, Lando’s not going to not go home between races, and he’s not going to sleep at 5 p.m. in Monaco either, so it’s Thursday night in Singapore and he’s up the fucking creek again, and if Oscar’s asleep, he can totally just ignore Lando’s text. Again, Lando is just a man. A sleepy one. Who would rather be exhausted on Oscar’s couch than exhausted anywhere else.

Oscar’s up on Thursday night, though, and he’s up on Friday night, too, except by then they’ve skipped the texting part and Lando’s just showed up at Oscar’s hotel room a few hours after dinner. Oscar rolls his eyes when he opens the door, but he’s smiling when he does it, and he’s already got Fifa up when Lando reaches the living room, so he’s not actually any fucking better than Lando, the muppet.

On the bright side (or, like… one of multiple bright sides, if Lando wants to be honest, which he doesn’t, thanks), they’re both pretty decent at Fifa now. They’ve played enough rounds in barely over a week that they’re getting kind of predictable to one another, and that makes Lando’s chest feel kind of stupid. Just the thought that Oscar knows him that well. Again. Tired. Just a man. His brain is basically mush, everyone’s lucky he’s even hitting the right buttons. It does eventually get the tiniest bit boring, though, at like 1 a.m., so Lando turns to Oscar after losing his second straight and asks want to watch a film, or something?

He makes Oscar choose which one while he flicks the lights off (for the best viewing, obviously), then settles back next to him on the couch a really, really normal distance away. It’s something he’s seen before, so he’s following the plot but drifting a little, too, until the next thing he knows, he’s jerking awake with a sharp breath in. Oscar’s looking down at him apologetically – down because Lando’s head is on his shoulder – and thumbing over the ball of Lando’s knee.

“Sorry,” he says, and, “didn’t mean to startle you. You should go to your bed, though.”

Which, like… makes sense. Even if Lando was definitely having the best nap of the doubleheader, hands down, just now.

Oscar probably wants to go to sleep too, though, so Lando picks himself up off the couch and yawns and makes a show of stretching before putting his shoes back on, just to make sure Oscar feels a little bad for how he’s putting Lando out.

He reaches the door while Oscar’s still doing something in the living area. It becomes apparent what when he appears with Lando’s phone in hand, sleepy smug smirk on his sleepy smug face. Ugh.

“Might want it for your alarm,” he wiggles it between his fingers and pads over to Lando and Lando’s still half-asleep, which is his excuse for forgetting to hold a hand out for it, but it really doesn’t matter anyway, because Oscar just slides it right into the kangaroo pocket of Lando’s hoodie for him. Really cool. Mint, actually.

“Mint,” Lando says.

Oscar laughs. His eyes are especially crinkly past 2 a.m. He says “thanks for coming by” - even though Lando’s the one who started it tonight - and holds out his hand.

Lando clasps it. “Meeting’s late tomorrow, right?” he asks.

“Yeah, like 2:00 or something,” Oscar says.

“Mint,” Lando says. It makes Oscar laugh again, and Lando can’t really tell why, but, like…whatever works.

“Yeah?” Oscar’s smile is so nice around the word.

“Yeah.”

Oscar squeezes his hand, which is how Lando realizes he’d forgotten to let go in the first place. Oh, well. Late and all. Time change, jetlag… yeah.

He finally does let go, though, then pats Oscar on the hip and kisses him on the side of the mouth and says “Night, Osc.”

“Night, Lando,” Oscar says back. Then his eyes narrow. It’s a funny sort of expression that Lando hasn’t seen on him before, so he tilts his head a little, trying to figure out what’s put it there. It takes a good few seconds longer than it probably should, but Lando makes up for it by blushing twice as bright as is reasonable when he finally clocks it.

“Ah, damn,” he says through a giggle, which is probably not the appropriate response, all things considered, but that makes Oscar laugh, too, so everything’s good.

Oscar flattens his hand on Lando’s back, then, and kisses him square on the lips and says, “too tired to even kiss a mate properly, remind me to kick you out earlier next time,” which is an objectively much weirder way to respond than Lando’s. So, like… they’re even. And Oscar’s still smiling when he pushes Lando out the door. It’s mint.

[angelliicc]

love warning

“la-la-la love warning, warning me so loud

it doesn’t stop, oh its my love”

masterlist

a/n HI GUYSS! this is my first ever fic i’ve wrote so please be nice. (im an editor yall) if yall want requests lmk and ill do it 😛😛 lowkey wanna write about my past crushes. also, the photos are NOTHING about the fic, its just the vibes it gives me the song/album i write about

warnings none

| “remember, you’re picking me up tomorrow”you and ellie have been friends since you can remember. “yes, i know. don’t worry i won’t leave without you.” ellie commented, dropping you off at home. you guys have grown up together, went to the same school, basically anything. you both have seen each other through the good and bad times and seeing your changes. ellie came out to you a few years ago, accepting her with open arms. you’ve been questioning about who you’re attracted to. you know you like girls, but didn’t know what to label yourself. you came out to ellie a few years back, a little after her. she knew immediately before you even told her.

as you walk through the front door, you greeter your family as you’ve been at ellies house. you could’ve been there longer, but your mother wanted you back since it was a school night. you walked to your room, makeup all cakey, clothes slightly dirty, and hair frizzy. immediately, you walked in and plopped on your bed, like you’ve been separated from your room in weeks. night fell, and you dozed off into a deep sleep. forgetting to take off your makeup, shower, or even change.

you woke up the next morning slightly late, rushing to get ready. you realized about your early sleep the previous night by the looks of your face. you showered, put your uniform on, and did your makeup all within a span of 30. you rushed out the door then arrived at school, heading to the café. you opened the door and saw ellie sitting at a table by herself, looking like she has been waiting for you since the minute you got there. “well you’ve had a morning.” she comments seeing you as you sat across from the table. “i woke up late, shut up. what time did you get here?” you asked, since shes been looking bored until you arrived. “around 30 minutes ago, why?” “no reason. what classes do you have today?” you asked her. you and ellie only had 3 out of 7 classes, which was p.e., math, and biology. even tho 3 was a bummer to both of you, it was still better than nothing. “religion, p.e., english and sports med.” even though you played basketball, sports med didn’t really interest you, maybe later it can. you both went your separate ways, off to your classes

the final bell rang and you were the first person out of the building. it was the end of the day and you were looking for ellie. it was hard to notice her, with a bunch of high schoolers running out of a building just to head home, until you saw her auburn hair. “els, im going home with you today.” she rolled her eyes in a sarcastic way. “once again, i remembered.” you both walk together to the student parking lot going to ellies car. “how was class?” you bring up. “ugh, absolute torture. im so tempted to drop out.” she responded miserably. “if you actually drop out i will beat your ass.” “whatever.” you open the back seat, leaving your stuff in the back. before you can even put your hand on the handle, ellie opens the door for you. oh? you think to yourself. it was probably a friendly gesture, dont read into it.

ellie drives you back to her place. god you can never get tired of being with her or going places with her. you both get out the car and head up to your room. “got homework?” she asks curiously, as if she were up to something. “nah, i finished it at school.” “nerd.” “fuck off.” you both laugh and giggle. you go onto her bed, placing your backpack down. you look at ellie, she looks so…so… you can’t even describe it. but the way she looked in that moment. it made your heart flutter. she sat down next to, crossing your legs. “oh, i forgot to ask you this yesterday.” she mentions. “talking to anyone right now?” the question kinda made you felt lonely. you see everyone with their partners doing the lovey dovey shit, feeling like you will never be able to do that. “oh, no.” you commented disappointingly. “you?” you questioned. “no.” she replied without a care. “why so blue?” she notices your change in mood after she asked. “its nothing, trust me.” “hey. look at me.” she cups your chin and brings it up. your eyes lock, never separating. “talk to me.” you were in a gaze, day dreaming. too distracted by the soft touch of her, and the warmth of her hands. her green eyes that she locked yours with.

the small moment felt like an eternity, and you wish you could’ve stayed there forever. you were so lost you couldn’t even form words, until you were slapped back to reality. “oh. um sorry. its just that i feel like i’ll never find love someday, you know?” you rambled. ellie listened to every word you said, not taking her eyes off you. she looked at you, getting closet with every word you said. she looked at your eyes, then to your lips. you looked at her bright reddish-pink lips. you were so close you can feel each and every breath both of you took. your body temperature rose as the tension grew. you both were too lost into the moment, until something overcame ellie. she grabbed your face, and leaned in for a kiss. she was so, sweet. like strawberry kisses. you grabbed her neck, returning the gesture. you felt her body temperature, and your heart was pounding faster and faster. “i don’t think you’ve known how long i wanted to do that for.” she spoke to you. “i’m glad you did. im so deprived of touch.” you shot back. “oh? is that so?” she said, getting even closer than you two were already were.

she pulled you in again, taking her time making sure the kiss was making you feel comfortable, and not so deprived. your hands were at her waist, enjoying every moment of it. “i love you.” she spoke. “i love you too.”

the warning that keeps warning, let it ring.

[sluttysanemi]

Tide of Reunion

Giyuu Tomioka x Fiancée!Reader

The moon shone tenderly amid the forest's evergreen trees. A night of longing and drive, as the wind howled gently. Soft clouds form along the starry sky, capturing a visual impression.

Your shared home, in which you resided with Giyuu, was nestled among the seemingly unending woods. Your home is constructed with large woodwork, layered with a sloping roof. 

The exterior doors were adorned with translucent paper, creating a serene atmosphere.

You lie calmly, asleep within the futon, a comfortable warm within. You are surrounded by poetically painted scrolls on the walls and tatami mat floor surfaces.

It had been overly long since your fiancée slept beside. He was hauled along strings of responsibilities, leaving you confined to your own presence. Though he hadn't written, he had on occasion sent you the plucked marvels of flowers he came across, indicating to you that you'd very much lingered in his mind.

Laying within the warm, padded material, your mind trailed aimlessly.You slept tranquilly, pondering on what your partner could be doing at this very moment. As your chest lifted and fell delicately, the foyer doors slid open.

It was promptly followed by the familiar ring of footsteps. They tread particularly lightly, preventing from grumbling a disturbance. It creeps across the hallway until it settles behind your door. You were yet to stir, as you continued to aspire, your mind venturing through absurd existences.

Careful hands lightly nudge the door wide before promptly closing. A wave of soothing lavender and rosemary aromas caress your senses with ardor. Deep, azure eyes glare at you fondly, as if not more relieved to see you. Despite his excessive thrills, he did not awaken you so suddenly, instead carefully undressing himself from his own uniform, leaving him bare.

He swiftly clothes himself in loose robes, carefully trailing to the futon in which you laid in. He lies beside you, pressing his palm against the side of your cheek. He relished the warmth of your skin, caressing it with his thumb.

You felt his familiar touch and gradually awoke. Your tired gaze moved to your tranquil spouse, who had held you with boundless tenderness.

You smile lazily at him, shifting closer.

“Giyuu…”, you whisper, your mind steadily attempting to recognise the scene.

“I didn’t mean to stir you...”, Tomioka replied dismissively. 

You did not care for him awakening you, instead overly glad to see your partner be beside you once more. You retort his touch, placing your own hand to his face, and watch him longingly. You move in, gently laying your lips on his after so long.

Giyuu embraced quickly, amiably reciprocating your kiss. He was exceedingly sweet, overcome with the relief of finally resting alongside the one he cherished most. He felt his heart gradually pummel harshly.

He moves atop of you, needing to hold your body closer. You wrap your arms around his sturdy neck, continuing the passionate display.  His breathing rolls heavily from his lips, consumed by passion. 

He misses your warmth. Your scent. Your embrace.

He'd spent so long beneath frigid, lonely sheets. Exhausting his body to its very core for those around him. Weary and miserable. 

He needed you desperately. More than he had needed oxygen. 

His soothing hands caress your thigh, tenderly pushing your gown up. 

"Can I?" he asks, ensuring you felt safe. 

You nod, permitting his entry. His fingers travel over your thighs, to your very clit. His slender fingers trail along your slit, leisurely gathering slick. Filthy noises echo as his digits continuously glide. 

Your hands maneuver along his back, as you whine delicately against him. Starved so long from his touch, you were greedy. Endlessly greedy. 

You prompted your thighs against his waist, suggesting a desire for more, much more. He groans and sits up, grasping the opposing sides of your thighs. You could feel his impending love, grazing against your sex. It pulsed and twitched, longingly to be embedded within your warmth. 

With a gentle push, he softly slides himself within you. He almost falls forward, releasing a pleasurable gasp. Your inner-walls grasped at him intently, almost hindering his movement. He pants, attempting to consolidate his thoughts into one.

With a sharp inhale, he carefully begins to roll his hips into you. Sensual, soft movements, disinterested in forcing himself from your comfort. Though you provided unending pleasure, all he longed for was to be with you again. Feel your connection. Your intimacy.

And you pleaded for it too. You cup his cheek, coaxing him to come closer. To hear his sighs of pleasure, to feel his pulse of ecstasy. And he does. He lowers his face inches from you and kisses you. He continuously assures of how much he loves you. Adored you. Treasured you. 

Over and over, lips graced along each other, momentarily separated for breath, before rekindling again in a moment of euphoria. 

“Soft… so soft.”, he babbled, prompting his lips to the tender skin of your neck. 

Your fingers glide to his back, caressing gently. Muscled and firm. Your unexpected touch had driven him to tilt his head back in delight, overwhelmed. Even your smallest details would strike him deeply.

His shaft endlessly pumping within you, a lewdful display. He was overcome with love, whining pleasurable groans into the air. And you followed. This was marvelling. He was only angelic.

Your cunt flutters tenderly around him as he repeatedly pleases you, driving you to squirm deep inside. 

He felt himself to finish soon, a surge of bliss rising within him. His thrusts grew briefly clumsy and hasty. 

Pushing him towards his impending climax, you whine thoughtlessly.

“I love you, Tomioka!”

And it finishes him. 

With a harsh push, his cock spurts ropes of love within you. Buried into you, he plunges every ounce of his desire deeply to you. The air is coated thickly with your unending affections for the other. 

So long without each other's love, there was not a greater peace than this moment. 

With hasty and drowsy eyes, he lies in the same position, unconcerned with pulling himself away from you. He was quick to drift to slumber, resting against your breast. Your fingers caught in his dark hair, you felt yourself submerged in the soft seas of paradise. 

[actual-changeling]

i thought about the end scene of 'beyond the sea' too many times and this is the result. mulder is so soft with her for the entirety of the episode, and it drives me insane.

first ficlet i've ever written for these two, so hopefully i got their voices right.

—

Mulder's hand against her arm is warm and comfortably heavy, a tether keeping her close enough to the ground to not drift away like she's been prone to do for the last few days. When her eyes flutter shut on their own accord, Scully doesn't fight it, all too aware of the hours of sleep she hasn't been getting.

Between fragmented nightmares about her father and the feeling of blood under her fingernails—Mulder's, dried and darkened no matter how hard she scrubbed—the last time she got more than twenty minutes at a time was before she saw her father's ghost in the flickering television light. The regular beeping of the machines echoing through the hospital room calms her somewhat; they're familiar sounds, no matter how far from medical school she might have ended up.

"Maybe you should head home, get some rest," Mulder suggests softly after an extended period of amicable silence, slightly squeezing her shoulder before reclaiming his hand. Her fingers twitch against the sheets as she fights the urge to chase after him, her body suddenly oddly cold. When she opens her eyes again, she catches him staring at her with concern clouding his gaze.

"I'm fine." 

It's a reflexive answer, a lie she keeps telling even though they are both aware she's everything but.

"I know," he replies, smoothing his palm down her arm until he can gently take her hand, and the chill disappears as quickly as it has arrived. "The last couple of days have just been a lot, and you deserve a break."

The noise is out of her mouth before she can stop it—something between a dismissal and a sob, tinged with bone-deep exhaustion. Even if she were to go back to an apartment full of Christmas decorations and unwanted quietude, she wouldn't be able to get any rest at all; not with guilt sitting on the bottom of her lungs and fear poisoning her breaths.

Scully tightens her grasp on his hand and turns to watch his heartbeat weave its way across the monitor. Alive, it whispers, over and over and over. 

Alivealivealive, and no thanks to her. 

She thought about it a few times, only when the darkness seemed entirely ubiquitous and the sleep deprivation spun webs across her ceiling, if maybe her choice to join the FBI, to go against her father's wishes, to put her life on the line while the distance between them grew—if all the stress she caused him somehow made her responsible for his death. 

No matter what she tries to tell herself, her father will still be dead, and Mulder will still be injured because she allowed him to run off alone despite Bogg's warnings. She had known without wanting to that he was going to get hurt, and yet. Always too little, too late.

"…Dana."

A tug on her arm rips her back out of her mind, and the worry carved deep into Mulder's face tells her that he has been trying to get her attention for longer than she can simply shrug off; she attempts to smile anyway and fails miserably.

"Whatever it is you're blaming yourself for, you're wrong."

"Mulder—"

He releases her hand in favour of cupping her cheek exactly as he had days ago in their office, and she relaxes into it without wanting to, the touch warm and comforting.

"If you don't want to go home, at least close your eyes for a little," he smiles for the two of them, his thumb caressing her cheekbone. Whatever protest she was about to utter dies on her tongue, so she simply nods. Mulder pulls back slightly to invitingly lift his arm, and for once, Scully doesn't even pretend to need time to consider it. 

God, she is beyond tired. 

She toes off her shoes and lies down on the scratchy hospital sheets, conscious of his injury as she carefully fits herself against his side. With her cheek resting on his chest and one palm above his heart, Scully closes her eyes and enjoys the comfort of Mulder holding her like she is doing him a favour. 

His fingers trace slow patterns up and down her back, and when she feels him press his lips to her hair, she inches impossibly closer in silent thanks.

The day bleeds from her limbs, and little by little, the tension in her aching muscles dissipates until only exhaustion and a familiar sense of safety remain. For the very first time since waking to see her father's ghost in her living room, sleep comes easily and remains completely dreamless. 

Mulder keeps her wrapped in his embrace and rests easier than he has in years.

[avocado-writing]

Omggg i hear your requests are open again??? Yayyy so excited so excited. I’ve been thinking ab smth angsty with Crowley where the reader has serious abandonment issues and Crowley accidentally triggers them. I would love it to be angsty but fluffy at the end bc I don’t want Crol to be sad :(

Tysm and i hope you have a fucking great week💕✨

notes: a phenomenal meme, thank you. I hope reader seems in character enough for abandonment issues!

pairing: crowley x reader

rating: T

He’s gone, and you’re worried it’s forever.

He’s had to go and do some work. Some demon work. When the two of you properly began getting together he had to tell you about his true nature; you were surprised and secretly a bit thrilled because, well, how many people have a demon in love with them? It made you feel very special indeed. And Crowley does love you so very deeply, you’ve never had a love like it before. Which made it sting all the worse when he had to go.

You were bickering about him leaving. He had to go to bloody Spain to perform some sort of temptation, and he knew you couldn’t get the time off work to come with him. You were begging him to stay, he was insisting he couldn’t, and as neither of you could see the other’s point of view voices began to get raised. It ended with him leaving you in your flat, slamming the door behind him in frustration.

You’ve not seen him for a week. It’s been driving you mad. He’s gone, hasn’t he? He’s gone forever. Just like every other person who’s walked into your life with claims that they love you only to disappear when things got difficult. You are unloveable, you are not worthy of anyone’s time. You do not deserve to experience anything other than heartbreak.

When he comes home he knows he’ll need to apologise. It doesn’t come easily to Crowley, admitting that he’s wrong, but he’ll find a way to force it out of himself for your sake. He shouldn’t have left how he did. It was unkind. Petty. A relationship shouldn’t be about trying to get the last word in an argument, and he feels very small indeed.

He knocks at the door to your flat and, when it isn’t answered, he miracles the lock open and walks in. Maybe he can get started on dinner. Maybe coming home to the smell of cooking and him being all grovelly will make things better.

This plan is stopped in its tracks when he finds you curled up in a blanket on the sofa. You look terrible. Tired, miserable, and ever so small. You take one look at him and recoil.

“What do you –”

“I’m sorry,” Crowley says. It’s not forced or uncomfortable as it usually is when he’s made to apologise, but sincere. An apology is not a plaster, though, and you still look raw and wounded as he sits on the opposite end of the couch. You wince as he reaches out to touch you.

“I thought you weren’t coming back,” is all the explanation that you can muster.

“Oh, darling. I’m…” he wracks his brain for something that’s a suitable apology, but can come up with nothing better than another “I’m sorry.”

Tears begin to fall down your cheeks and you seem furious at them, wiping them away with the edge of your blanket, but still unable to get them to stop.

“I thought you were done with me. That you hated me.”

“Come here,” says Crowley, bundling you in his arms and pulling you onto his lap. You cry a little, at him, at yourself, at being so stupid. “I don’t hate you. I’d never hate you. I think it’s impossible, actually. I was just being a twat. I’ll even do the dance if you want me to.”

You laugh into his shirt and he’s relieved.

“No, keep that dance for Aziraphale. I think he’d be annoyed if he found out you did it for me.”

You look into his eyes, and he moves his sunglasses up so he can meet your gaze properly.

“Don’t leave me,” you whisper, voice trembling a little.

“I won’t. I swear.”

Taglist: @angiestopit @dazed-soul @foolishprincipalitee @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @cool-iguana @this--is--music @ilyatan @lxsm2 @clarina04@wtfhasmy-lifecometo @mrgatotortuga@wereallbrokenangels @night-affiliate @kimqueenofhell @chewbrry @bajablast23 @h3k3t @am-i-obsessed---maybe @bakerstreethound

[heartsforandrewgarfield]

Happier Than Ever | Rafe Cameron Headcannon ✧

Happier Than Ever by Billie Eilish is what i imagine a toxic relationship between pogue!girlfriend and rafe cameron. hear me out..

Note: This is my first time writing anything on Tumblr lol! Let me know how to improve, I really enjoy writing :333, also i was thinking of writing a blurb on this too so send me a message!

When I'm away from you, I'm happier than ever

Wish I could explain it better

I wish it wasn't true

I can imagine his girlfriend being care free with her friends but once she’s with rafe, she feels trapped and claustrophobic.

she doesn’t realize she’s in a toxic relationship though, she thinks that his aggressiveness and controlling nature is just the way he shows affection.

of course she still loves him unconditionally but she often wishes he’d be kinder.

i knew when i asked you to,

be cool about what i was telling you,

you’d do the opposite of what you’d said you’d do,

and id end up more afraid.

whenever she would hang out w the pogues, rafe would blow the situation out of proportion and start arguments. she argues back, telling him to calm down, but it only makes him angrier.

no matter if she’d let him know in advance, he���d always be pissed.

of course her friend would question why she would stay w him. sometimes she would avoid the pogues just so rafe wouldn’t get upset.

Don't say it isn't fair

You clearly weren't aware that you made me miserable

honorable mention.

You call me again, drunk in your Benz

Driving home under the influence

You scared me to death, but I'm wasting my breath

'Cause you only listen to your fucking friends

Rafe would totally call his girlfriend while high/drunk driving to make her feel worried for him just to have a laugh with his kook friends.

he’d do it just to show topper and kelce how he has her at his fingertips.

And I don't talk shit about you on the internet

Never told anyone anything bad

'Cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything

And all that you did was make me fucking sad

the internet reference would totally be the pogues. his girlfriend would defend his name whenever they would bring up how shitty he is.

time and time again, she would be proven wrong by his irrational behaviors.

You ruined everything good

Always said you were misunderstood.

rafe would be the type blame his aggressiveness on his daddy issues and constantly justify himself for being a dickhead.

he would rant to his girlfriend about his problems to make her feel guilty and make feel like she needed to stay.

the pogues definitely, eventually get tired of his bullshit.

currently cooking up fic ideas for this..

(can y’all tell i love this song?)

all credits to their owners!!