#you are ridiculous and i adore you ridiculously

[pellucid-constellations]

R&R

Pairing: Cassian x Reader

Summary: Cassian was tired and you were taking forever to get your ass back home.

Word count: 1k

Warnings: nothing! fluff <3

a/n: A little drabble as I ignore my homework.

~~

Cassian was tired. 

He felt it in his bones and the cracks of his skin.

Dirt was ingrained in every crevice of his leathers, dusting out as he shucked the articles to the ground and stepped into the steaming bath. Training didn’t usually take this much out of him, but there were a host of recruits that he needed to train, all so eager to be part of the troops after the victorious War with Hybern. 

All eager but so, so inept.  

And then you weren’t home when he got here, which pissed him off. 

All he could think about during the hours of training drills and conditioning and corrections was coming home to you, pressing his face into your neck, and falling asleep to the warmth of your skin. He had sent a spark down the bond when he started his journey home, which—to him—was a request for you to come home as well. 

You did not. 

Cassian dried himself off and threw on the closest pair of cotton pants he could find, falling into bed with a huff. 

Ridiculous. 

He was in bed and he was alone. 

He covered his eyes with the bulk of his arm. 

He’d sleep then. Fine. 

Only he couldn’t sleep. The bed smelled like you and he tugged at the bond again. This time, you actually did offer him a reply, and Cassian wanted to drown in the warmth you sent through his chest. 

Where the hell were you?

He flipped onto his stomach and shoved his face into a pillow. He should be able to sleep without you there. He was Illyrian; he had slept in far worse conditions. On rocks, in a tree, standing up against war-torn buildings—Cassian could sleep anywhere at any time. But then he met you and he fell in love with you and you weren’t getting your ass home fast enough.

Cauldron help him if you ever decided to go on vacation. 

Mor had tried something like that when you were freshly mated, posing a girl's trip to you and Feyre. That idea hadn’t gone far.

It had been more about sex and lust and being so enamored by you that he couldn’t breathe back then. Right now he just wanted to get some damn sleep. 

The bedroom door clicked open and unrelenting joy washed away the irritation he was harboring for you. Because how could he be irritated when you came into the room all soft and smiley and bright? Upon further contemplation, Cassian decided that no, he wasn’t ever irritated at you, actually. 

“Hi, Cass,” you called, the sound muting the headache that had begun to form behind the general’s eyes. “How were the recruits? Are they ready to charge into battle?”

You flitted about the room, taking off your coat and setting your bags down and not paying attention to him at all. Cassian fought the urge to tackle you onto the bed just to get you to stop moving. He couldn’t even get a good look at you like this, and he hadn’t seen you all day. He left before you woke up. 

“Yeah maybe in a few years,” Cassian grumbled, following you with his eyes as you started cleaning up the damn room. “C’mere, sweetheart.” 

“I will in just a moment. This place is a mess. You got dirt everywhere, did you know that?” 

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll clean it up later, just come here.” 

You tsked and ignored him. Cassian cursed at the ceiling.

“I was out with Mor earlier and we stopped by Nyx's school to surprise him,” you giggled, grabbing a stupid broom. “He was adorable, of course. He painted you and Az for one of his projects in art. You’ll have to see it when he brings it home. I swear, Cass, he is just hmph—” 

The broom clattered to the floor, forgotten along with the dirt that lined the wood. Your cheeks were encased by Cassian’s hands as he kissed you, and he ran one back to entangle it with your hair. Gods, you smelled good, like strawberries or apples or whatever fruity perfume you were trying while you were out shopping. Cassian deepened the kiss and relished in the surprised sound you made. 

“You didn’t even kiss me when you came in,” he practically pouted, lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “Or look at me.” 

You gripped at his biceps to keep yourself upright, his body pressed so closely to yours. “I didn’t mean to,” you whispered. 

“I know.” He nudged your nose with his. “Lay down with me.” 

“But the floor—” 

“Lay down with me,” he repeated.

A brief pause, a small nod; right now, it took very little to make Cassian so inexplicably happy. 

He gathered you in his arms the moment your body hit the sheets, burying his face in your neck like he was supposed to do about thirty minutes ago. And then you ran your fingers across his scalp and Cassian decided he was dead. There was no other explanation for this type of bliss. 

“Did you have a bad day?” you asked softly. 

“Day was fine. Long, but fine,” he grumbled, pulling you tighter, pressing his lips to your skin. 

You hummed. “Then why couldn’t I clean the room?” 

“Because I’m tired and you were over there.” 

“Not seeing the correlation, my love.” 

Tire was weighing heavy on Cassian’s mind. His body relaxed even more into the bed as his hands ran down the length of your body. 

“I need to hold you to fall asleep,” he replied as if it were obvious. Because it was. 

“Oh.” 

He grunted out a confirmation.

“Well, I’m not exactly ready for bed yet and I told Rhys—” 

“I love you,” Cassian interrupted. “Please stop talking.” 

And then Cassian was no longer pissed or annoyed or tired because nothing was out of place. Sleep found him quickly.

[frnkiebby]

Frnkiebby’s FellowWhore Appreciation Day(week) Installment Number Two:

“Are you sure you’re still up for this Frankie?” you ask. Frank was barely recovered from his latest bout of bronchitis and you really wished he would take things easier and just fucking rest.

“For the millionth time. Yes.” he said, his tone edging on exasperation now “We’ve had these tickets for *months* and I’m so fucking sick and tired of rotting on the couch.”

Frank moved to walk around you, placing a hand on your hip as he squeezed past in the narrow hallway of the front door. You let out a heavy sigh and finally took a pair of shoes from the rack in front of you.

“Will you at least wear a mask? We’re gonna be around a lot of people and I really don’t want you catching another bug. Your immune system isn’t back to full strength yet.”

Hearing a thump come from Franks direction caused you to drop your remaining shoe and snap your eyes to him.

“Yes, mother.” he said petulantly, lifting his head back from where he had let it fall against the wall in frustration.

“Frank…I’m sorry, I just worry. You’ve been getting sick a lot more frequently lately…”

Frank looked down and away. He knew that. He knew he’s been sick more often than not this fall, and if he was being honest with both himself and you, he was also worried.

“I know baby,” he replied softly “I’ll wear a mask. I’ll be okay.”

He stood and walked the few steps over to take your face in his hands. Brushing his thumbs across your cheekbones, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against your forehead.

“Let’s get outta here and go see your freaky exhibit already, huh?”

“Yeah, Frank, sounds like a plan.”

_______________

Before you got out of your uber you nudged Franks arm and passed him the mask you had shoved in your pocket. With a soft smile thrown at you he held it against his nose and looped the elastics around his ears. After thanking the driver, you both exited the car and started up the crowded steps into the museum.

Frank had teased you mercilessly for wanting to go to the exhibit. Called it gruesome and you a weirdo as if he hadn’t immediately gone into his phone to purchase tickets.

Once inside with pamphlets in hand, Frank was so excited that he was damn near insufferable. Pulling you from one display to another, chattering endlessly about the creepy history of each piece. It was honestly both adorable and a relief that he had so much energy.

“Oh my god, look-look-look!”

When you looked over to him, smile already on your face, you absolutely lost it. The look on Frank’s face combined with the ridiculous pose he struck had you laughing at a volume that resulted in more than a few glares from the other patrons.

“You absolute dork, don’t you dare move a muscle.” You weren’t even sure if he understood you with how much you were laughing.

“Don’t move a muscle, huh?” he teased “Like this guy?”

When you finally got the camera open on your phone, you nearly dropped it. Frank had escalated his pose to an even higher level of ridiculousness. God you fucking loved him.

After snapping more photos than necessary, you turned to show them off to Frank. The two of you broke out into more laughter, gaining even more glares. The night had went better than you expected, even with Frank’s laughter devolving into silent wheezes as he bent over trying to get control of himself.

Even though he would be exhausted for the rest of the night and likely tomorrow, you were glad he held firm and insisted on the exhibit. Every now and then Frank has to be right about something, you figured.

[my-castles-crumbling]

headlights - @jegulus-microfic - word count: 263

"Sirius, it's simple, they just-"

"No, Moony! You're pushing your...cute romanticism onto everyone! Prongs and my baby brother are not together!" Sirius argued, rolling his eyes. Really, it was adorable how Remus could find romance in any scenario, but the thought was ridiculous.

Remus scoffed. "He's not exactly subtle about it, Sirius! He literally waxes poetic about Regulus's fingers every time he gets a chance!"

"Friends! They're friends!" Sirius retorted, wrinkling his nose.

"Fine," the other boy shrugged. "If you really think nothing's going in, go check on them in the dungeons."

"Aright, I will!" Sirius said, sticking his tongue out. James and Regulus were currently working on a Potions project in the dungeons.

But as he and Remus walked to the room ten minutes later, Sirius started to worry. What if they were dating? Oh, Merlin, they would be disgusting. People thought he and Remus were bad, James was the most obnoxiously over-the-top romantic there was.

But he decided to be brave, and just ask.

So he pushed open the wooden door of the Potions classroom with a squeak, only to be greeted by a loud yell.

"Sirius! What the fuck!"

And there was Regulus, climbing off of James's lap, while James wore an expression akin to a deer in headlights. "Er, hi Padfoot," he murmured, one had still out from where it had been grabbing at Regulus's hair only seconds ago. "Hi, Moony."

Remus just snickered from behind him.

"Don't you start," Sirius snapped towards him, knowing he was going to be treated to an 'I told you so' later.

[wandagcre]

Hii! How you doing?

I just read your drabble about mob!Sam reaction to reader asking for a divorce.

Could you do one were reader thinks the only way of getting away from Sam is being dead so she tries to k!lol herself and Sam finds her and she gets really scare because she might lose the love of her life, so after that she does everything to be a better wife for reader

if i break | sam carpenter 🔞

(Mob!Boss Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader)

You didn't know how much those four words would affect the following days for you and Sam. With your deteriorating mental state, Sam's punishment, and out of control aggressiveness, you're backed up in the corner, completely stuck.

WARNING: making out, suggestive content, groping, spanking, mild torture, conditioning, self-harm, suicide attempt Words: 2.5k Note: you can read this as a stand-alone bc it's an alternative scenario to the drive you mad series but those previous parts can give u better context! reminder to not actually put yourselves in this situation guys this is all (an unhealthy) fantasy

[ series masterlist ] | [ masterlist ]

One would say you shouldn't be ungrateful—a roof over your head, jewelry and clothing that could solve a block's poor demise instantly, and a food to eat on your plate is the least of your worries. There's acres of space, just for you and your wife.

Sam provides everything imaginable to your heart's desire.

Yet, you feel yourself wither each day.

You've been punished by Sam that very day, when you courageously asked her for a divorce. You felt ridiculed for a short and humerous answer of the woman whom you've loved for a while. But even that couldn't sustain the foundation you built with Sam alone.

That same night, you found yourself being spanked and manhandled by the woman.

You've overheard of her tone and voice, the calculation in her cruel words  — how it roared affirmative and certain to follow through as she planned despite the protests by some of her inner circle, sometimes including her own right hand and sister, Tara, made your wife sound as though she's detached from humanity.

You regret learning an ounce from that day. You couldn't believe how you let yourself be in this sick charade, laying down beside this woman whom you once adored.

So, when Sam came home as usual, with her loosened tie and undone earrings, the thick tension resurfaced once again.

But she deeply craved your touch much as you do.

Although you obliged, knowing where it was headed from the start, you were blinded. After all there was an undeniable spark that you knew wouldn't easily go away with Sam's affection and the skill she had to pleasure you. You straddled Sam as your thumb caressed her baby hair, her soft kneading on your ass that only grew rough and sliding over your shorts to feel it bare as her kisses became needy and almost bruising.

What you didn't know was how Sam felt you were giving in as though it was a parting gift to her. The thought riled her up to an increasing madness.

She flipped you over, hovering beneath you and pushed your head against the soft mattress. It made you yelp at the force she exuded.

"I fought so hard to have you, amor!" Sam's frustrated voice roared in the master's bedroom, tears welling up your eyes. "What makes you think I'll let you get away this time? Maybe you're not bright enough if you think I would sign divorce papers from you," she angrily spat.

You felt so small. It was beyond suffocating as Sam and the way her fingers dug in your scalp as she pressed you down while within her grasp felt nothing more but terrifying.

"I-I don't feel good. Not for a while now, Sam." You admit, words slurring in your contorted mouth.

Sam gave you a mocking grin. "And I didn't wish to be this rough on you, sweetheart. But you've left me with no choice,"

She gave you a good spanking until the flesh of your ass was tender and stinging. By the end of it, you were sniffling and in tears. Sam didn't bother putting back your underwear, it was nothing but humiliating. She swiftly carries your weight like you're featherlight, your body slung over her shoulder. Your vision is upside down and you began to wail in protest, cold sweat ran through your body.

You didn't trust how Sam was handling you — this woman that stood before you didn't hold remorse nor familiarity and warmth you knew. Sam was akin to that first night she had you handcuffed. True enough, it was history repeating itself as you found yourself dropped in a smaller bed, enough to fit one, worst was how bits of it felt like an exposed space, sealing your deal in this prison-like room.

It was dowright ridiculous.

Sam firmly held you by the wrist, against the metal headboard. The clanking was continuous, you look up through your blurry vision, tears not stopping, you're cuffed.

"We go by a reward system here, sweetheart. Don't worry, I'll keep you fed. That is if — a big if — you won't lash out. All you have to say is you won't bring up a silly thing as divorce ever again." Sam patted your cheek, "Of course, you need to prove it by actions too. You're monitored. I'll be the judge of that." She motions over the camera at the corner of the room.

You wipe your nose, sniffling. "Isn't this too over the top?"

"Better vicinity, is all I'm going to say." Sam clicks her tongue, her body above you and one of her hands intimately placed on your bare stomach where your night gown slightly ridden up.

You had no phone inside, even the use of television was needed to be earned. Naturally, the almost empty space made you think a lot. It was few hours before you were freed from the cuffs.

It brought more realization that you were being isolated, completely tucked away from the existing relationships you've built with your friends. It happened slow and deliberate, that you found yourself hopeless to Sam's doings. Maybe she was even behind the unjustified killings from years ago, at your little town. Hell, maybe you were in denial all these time that Sam conjured on eliminating your mother figure from work, too.

You wouldn't be surprised anymore but the thought makes you retch.

The first few days was tough. You cried until you became exhausted. Soon it was futile and useless. You tried protesting by not eating at all, wondering what starvation will bring, only to be intervened by Sam herself. She kept you fed and bathed you, that you felt disgusted. Sam wasn't worthy to see your vulnerable state.

Sometimes, you rebelled against the trained women she sent in — at times where Sam couldn't make an exception to personally accommodate you. They let you angrily punch them, never fighting back, which made you smaller and invisible. These trained guards were obligated to report to Sam and so your punishment was still made.

You even tried memorizing the room. Attempting to knock at the walls to see if it had a weak spot, scanning as much as you can. Albeit, the windows itself were also useless. You should have known better that Sam would kept it close and bulletproof.

The depravation soon kicked in. You're conditioned at the reward she gave you that even a simple few hours of watching television made you a little bit at ease. Anything that came from outside world, you soaked it up. Nonetheless, you were treated like a pet.

But it didn't change your state, life still being sucked out of your very body.

One night, Sam was scrubbing your back clean as you sat at the bathtub. It was filled with silence, with occasional comments from Sam from the outside. She acted like everything was normal.

"Why are you doing this?" Was all you could say. You were tired.

The silence covered you two until you were in your towel, ready to dry off.

"This," Her index finger was in the middle of your chest. "Does not only beat for you, but a part of me as well." Sam continued, her voice tenuous and low. "You didn't know how your existence motivated me to survive that hell hole that my father sent me into. I need you back. I need my wife back. Isn't that all enough?"

"But what part of me do you need? Should I be stuck in that submissive and clueless, attending to your needs? Or did you want the girl that you left all those years?" You bravely confronted Sam, who was taken aback at your words.

At the end, you wouldn't take it all back. You wanted her to know—to fully simmer those thoughts.

You wanted to feel something and to end it all at the same time.

Sam had overlooked and underestimated your creativity. The cheap toilet was one of the things that was left unfinished for this spare room and it only took you to carry out its heavy lid, smashing the ceramic cover in pieces.

All you registered was the sharp piece against your soft skin, your knees that trembled and thudded against the hard floor. You feel your consciousness slipping, the fluttering of your eyes slow and uncontrable. Hopefully, to no return, you thought.

It was a blur, dreamless state. You were at peace for a while.

Though you had a small inkling that it won't last for long, you feel your mind waking up to consciousness. Your ears register the beeping of the electrocardiogram served as a white noise and your breathing sounded like it was contained. Opening your eyes, you see that you're tubed and one of your arms were infused with IV. You feel a gentle hold, on your unharmed forearm by Sam herself. She looked out of place, wearing your favorite cardigan as she slept soundly beside you.

When you moved and groaned, it stirred Sam to consciousness as well. You feel the fear brewing but it long vanished when your wife looked nothing but in complete distraught with tears spilling from her exhausted brown eyes — unlike you've ever seen before — temporarily stripped away from her cruelty and madness.

She held tighter on your forearm, but it was out of desperation and concern more than anything.

"You asked me and I never answered that day," Sam continued to sob. You see her physically restraining to hold all of you that it started to pain you. "I can't—I can never imagine being that stupid again. It could have been my last words and you suffered enough from me,"

"Sam... I could have asked better—" You protest as clarity hit you, but Sam's quivering lips halted you.

Your wife strongly shook her head in disagreement. "Nonsense. Let me finish, please. It was entirely my fault and mine alone for putting you in this situation and I never made myself much of safe space for you. But all I needed was everything you can offer. All of you, mi amor. I don't care if it was the girl I left, the one who changed, all I know is that I cannot do this life without you," She moves to bring your palm over her cheek. You feel Sam's fraught, her need to feel that you are tangible and beside her.

For a moment your anger and frustration with her had faded. It was a day full of crying, nonetheless.

Recovery was surprisingly better than you expected with Sam's improved presence around you. She was downright attentive to your needs, more than ever before. You need to pee? Sam was right by the door. You wanted to read or watch a movie? Sam could not care any less, she'll do work beside you, too. Most of the time, your wife would watch them with you, surprisingly even if she hates the genre. Were you craving for a specific food? Sam will go and get it for you.

You even joked that you wanted a foot massage but Sam took it seriously, immediately went to give you one.

"You know I'm not pregnant right?" You humorously told her. The way her head spun to your direction, flustered, had you uncontrollably smile.

Sam was taken aback. "W-What?"

"Don't you have work to do, whatever it is?"

"No. I can do them remotely, it's always been a flexible thing." I have my priorities sorted out much better now." Sam casually says. You've never seen her this carefree and it hit a pang of warmth and familiarity more than ever.

You nodded slowly. "Alright. But, can you stop acting like I'm fragile? I don't... I haven't thought of doing anything since then." The playfulness quickly faded from you.

You looked away and cannot help but glance over the healing wound on your forearm. You busied yourself with the film playing on screen. Sam opens her hand that was adjacent to your side, you don't fight the invitation and instead you make the move to hold it.

"I know you're not, mi amor. It's not that, it's just—" Sam sighed, though her eyes never left yours. "I don't want to spend remaining of my time with you by fighting or making you suffer ever again, even by the slightest just because I am greedy when it comes to you, amor. I want to make better memories, whether you choose to stay or not."

You don't reply and Sam was unchanging. All you knew is how it lifted a great weight on your shoulder.

You've never returned to the room where she kept you nor passed by the area. Interestingly enough, it was under construction again.

Days later, Sam remained at home. She didn't fail with the flowers and her gifts increasingly became thoughtful. It was between a new book of the genre you wanted, it could've been a trip to a place you mentioned. The most surprising so far was her first attempt of doing a crochet tulips for you.

It was a better sense of direction for the two of you. Sure you had needs, and the sexual tension and libido may have kicked in, but it felt like you were in a courting phase. It annoyed you sometimes, how your wife pranced in almost nothing and you were just to stare.

Though if you asked, Sam wouldn't hesitate to tell you—whether it was work, or something personal you've always been too shy or afraid to do so from the past. If you asked to burn the world, Sam would've handed you the gas and the lighter.

That's why you were taken aback during a particular rainy day, you perked up at the sound of the door and saw Sam who came back with nervous smile on her face and a new material on her other hand. She handed you a manila envelope and followed you as you took it and sat on one of the chairs at the dining area.

You curiously took it and opened it, your throat quickly dried, loss at words as you saw that it was the divorce papers you've been asking for. It made you suddenly stand up straight.

"It's only a choice up to you now. No dirty games from me, I swear on it." Sam made a sign of oath. You looked at her with the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "If you want, I can send you best of my men, back to your town for extra measure. Not to update me! Just because, well, you've been associated to me for quite some time." She rubbed her neck in what appears to be out of shame.

You incredulously looked at Sam's face. To be back from the life you have been taken away from, to reunite with people that you've missed... but it also meant being away from Sam and to no longer call her your wife—it felt sickening. You were coming around to closely forgiving her, to giving her another chance as she proved herself better than before. You doubt that this woman can actually hurt you again, after all.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you courageously grabbed Sam by the collar of her shirt. "Fuck you, Sam Loomis. Don't mess around like this."

"I'm not complaining, but I don't understand..." Sam murmured as you pushed the double door, leading her to the bed.

You two ended up catching on much needed passionate touches and sinful nights you've deeply missed with the woman. Your soul was ignited with each kiss Sam has left your neck, every touch had set you on fire. Funnily enough, the roles were reversed. You cannot be parted away from her, your arm slung and secure over her nape. What moved you the most was her kissing away the now-scarring form on your forearm.

The divorce papers? Somewhere lying on the floor, completely forgotten.

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

[sweetbans29]

Not Now - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: 4 times Caitlin riles you up (requested)

Warnings: Mature

Work Count: 3k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: As requested, here is the opposite of Now's Not the Time. I hope you enjoy it!

one. put it away.

It is the beginning of Hawkeye basketball season and your team is looking pretty tight. Practices have been strong and everyone was working really hard to be the best. With that, everyone has been super concentrated on developing their skills and if there is anything that you know about a concentrated Caitlin it can be the cutest and cruelest thing to you.

It started out cute - seeing her tongue peek out when she was really into a game or when she was going for a shot that took a little more planning. You found it adorable and would often tease her about it at the beginning of your relationship. Fast forward a little and she showed you exactly what that tongue could do causing what was once innocent to be something that had you itching for her in the middle of a packed stadium.

It is another home game and it is going to be a challenging one. You are in the locker room with the team, everyone is getting ready and getting in the zone. You take special notice of your girlfriend who has been chewing the same piece of gum since the two of you left your apartment. Her tongue playing with that piece of gum like she was playing with you last night.

You are sitting there during your team meeting before going out for warm-ups mesmerized by the way your girl is smacking her gum. You feel ridiculous but as you are sitting there, trying to pay attention to your coaches, your knee bouncing a mile a minute to distract your body and mind. She has no idea what she is doing to you.

Once the meeting is dismissed, you all line up to head out for warm-ups. You are standing next to Caitlin and Kate.

"You should spit out your gum before we head on the floor," you say, trying not to draw any attention to the face that your skin is buzzing being so close to hers. Not touching, but close enough to feel her presence.

"Why? It's not hurting anybody," she says with a little laugh, completely unaware of the way it is making you crave her.

"Your girls right," says Kate. "Don't want you choking on it before the game begins."

You silently thank Kate as you see Caitlin spit out her gum. Her tongue runs over her lips and you bite our bottom lip, concealing a moan that so desperately wants to escape your lips.

The team runs out and you all get to warm up. Everyone knows exactly where to go and what to do. As you are shooting threes, you notice Caitlin's tongue makes its first appearance. Your center aches at the sight and you make your way to her.

You grab her arm and turn her so no one can see what you are saying.

"I am going to need you to keep that pretty little tongue of yours away, it is driving me insane," you say. She knows as well as everyone that we all need to be present in the game and by now knowing this newfound distraction of yours she makes a decision.

She doesn't say a word, rather steps back and looks at you, then down to your lips and runs her tongue over her bottom lip.

You instantly squeeze your thighs together to get any sort of friction. To anyone on the outside, it looks like the two of you are just having a conversation. But Caitlin sees your little move and brings you close enough for only you to hear.

"Keep squeezing those thighs together babe, because I am going to have them spread wide open for me tonight," she whispers in your ear then grabs a ball to shoot a three.

Your head is spinning and you forget where you are, your senses are heightened only for her. You cannot believe she just said that to you.

You are brought back to reality when you hear a whistle blow, signaling the game is going to start.

This is about to be one of the longest games of your life.

two. drawings.

It's team dinner night. it is typical for the team to go out to dinner the night before any away game and you always looked forward to getting some time out.

The team was in Connecticut for a game against UConn. Hannah and Jada were the ones to pick the place for your night out. These dinners typically consisted of getting good food because the night before games were always dry.

That is how you all found yourself in this mom-and-pop Italian restaurant. You sit next to Caitlin at the end of the table with Kate across from you. Everyone is looking at their menus when it all starts.

Your menu is on the table in front of you, and you are intensely scanning through the extensive menu. Your girlfriend's hand makes its way to your thigh. You don't think much of it as it is usually just a way for her to ground herself when she feels a little anxious. But little to her knowledge, the way she is looking in her dress has you ready to take her back to the hotel room.

You give her hand a little tap, to acknowledge her and continue looking at the menu. Her hand never leaves your thigh as you all order and start up a conversation about random things. As much as you want to jump into the conversation, you struggle to hear what anyone is saying due to your girlfriend beginning to draw patterns on your thigh.

You take a deep breath and bring your hand down to hers. You take hold of it, not removing it from its place on your leg, but to keep her fingers from dancing over your skin. She looks over at you with a slight frown but you just give her a small smile. You aren't ready to reveal how much her touch is affecting you.

The food comes out and your hand releases hers. You were fully expecting her hand to remove itself from your body but it stays put as she eats with her other hand. Only removing her hand to use her napkin to wipe her face. The second she puts her napkin down, her hand finds its rightful place on your thigh.

When you finish your food, your stomach is satisfied and you lean back in your chair. You are finally relaxed enough to engage in conversation and almost forget Caitlin's hand. That is until it begins to change up its patterns.

You are talking to Kate when your mind goes blank. Caitlin's fingers have made their way to the hem of your dress (you debated if the dress was too short when getting dressed but Cait said it was fine and that you looked good). You are now regretting the choice of outfit as the hem of your dress is quite high and with one slip of the wrist, her fingers would be where you have been waiting for them all dinner.

Your hand goes down to grab hers but she stops you with her other hand. You try to look at her - she doesn't turn to face you, but rather continues her conversation with the girls.

Her fingers are still playing with the hem of your dress, alongside now the inside of your thigh. You let out a shaky breath, doing everything in your power to listen to the conversation.

A pool begins to form at your core as Caitlin's light touch keeps gracing itself on your sensitive skin. She went between gripping your thigh to only letting the pads of her fingertips graze your skin. It is maddening.

You keep trying to give her looks to show her that she needs to cool it but she seems to be actively avoiding your eyes. So you do the only thing you can think of (aside from removing her hand which you know she will fight and you will lose) is to cross your legs. You begin to shift and are about to bring your leg over, closing your thighs to her torture when she whips her head around to you and says one word.

"No."

You give a little pout and try again. This time, she pushes her hand further up your inner thigh, high enough to feel you are dripping from her touch and have been for a while now. You are slightly embarrassed and she is quite surprised.

Not surprised as you are when her finger grazes under your thong, swiping you only once. Then bringing it out from under your dress to meet her lips, tasting you in front of the whole team.

You look around in horror, only to find no one is paying attention to you.

You use this time to cross your legs. Keeping Cait out and releasing some of the tension. Your pupils are slightly blown out and your heartbeat has quickened.

Caitlin leans over to your ear and says, "I can't wait for dessert."

three. messages.

You are the proud recipient of the John R Wooden Award. This year you were nominated alongside your girlfriend Caitlin and were chosen. That is what brings you, your family and your girlfriend to Los Angeles, CA.

You are all dressed up, and ready for the events of the day. The schedule included: the award ceremony, interview panel, and gala. You are all in for a busy day.

After putting on your watch, regardless of the event, you always wear your Apple watch. You are struggling with your necklace when you feel some hands come to your shoulders. Looking up, you see your girlfriend taking the ends of the necklace and latching it around your neck. She turns you around to face her and makes sure it is center before looking at you with a smile.

"You are beautiful babe," she says, giving your hand a squeeze.

"Thank you, love," you say and give her a hug. You both stand there for a moment, taking in each other's embrace.

"I am so nervous," you say. "I hate speaking in front of people."

"You are going to do great. If you need some comfort just look over at me and you will be just fine," she says with a smile. You thank her and everyone gets on their way.

Once at the center where you are accepting the award, the team there guides you through where you need to be. You are there with the male recipient as well which makes this all a little better, knowing you aren't doing any of this alone.

The two of you accept the award and head into the interview panel. You are sitting in front of a large group of people and reporters ready to ask you all the questions under the sun. Your eyes scan the crowd for your person. It takes you a second but you find her. She is sitting next to your parents and coach. You offer her a little wave which she happily returns.

The interview begins and questions come flying at you left and right. You are stiff and have a hard time finding your footing on how to answer them. Not that you aren't capable, you are incredibly smart, but you are much better at playing a game in front of a stadium full of people than sitting in a room full of them and answering questions.

Caitlin takes notice of your stiffness and wishes she could do something to help you relax a little...

As you are sitting up on stage, your foot taps uncontrollably. Your hand is in your lap, bouncing as much as your leg. That is when you feel a buzz on your wrist.

You look down and see a message come in.

[Babe 🤍: Look at me]

You look up at your girl and she motions you to breathe. As she does, she unintentionally licks her lips which causes you to do the same.

[Babe 🤍: Stop the leg tapping]

[Babe 🤍: Imagine my hand on your knee to slow it down]

An innocent statement, meant to help your nerves, takes your mind to someplace much less clean. You take your bottom lip between your teeth as the guy is answering some questions now.

Caitlin takes notice of this and decides to egg you on a little more.

[Babe 🤍: Imagine what my hands could do to you under that table, in front of everyone]

[Babe 🤍: Going to all the places you want them now, making you feel better by the second]

You squeeze your legs together as your cheeks begin to heat up. You are suddenly very warm and feel like you need fresh air. Someone then asks you a question and you answer it without any hesitation. Your mind focuses on the question as your body is on fire.

[Babe 🤍: Good girl]

[Babe 🤍: You'll be rewarded for that tonight]

[Babe 🤍: The question is, do you want it in the form of my fingers or my tongue...]

When you read the last of the three messages, you lick your lips and look up feeling lightheaded. You have no idea how you are going to get through a whole gala before going back to your hotel room. Maybe you won't have to wait and the two of you will find a supply closet or something.

[Babe 🤍: I will take that as you want my tongue]

[Babe 🤍: Well lucky for you I am dying for a feast]

You gulp as your cheeks continue to redden. You take a sip of your water, hoping to cool yourself down.

[Babe 🤍: Good idea on the water, you are going to need to be hydrated for all I am going to do to you tonight]

Looking up at Cait, you see her smirking at you. She then gives you a little wink you just shake your head.

You cannot believe that just happened.

four. denial. (mature)

You and Caitlin were overdue for a date night. Between practices, games, and school - life has been pretty crazy and all you want is to have a night in with your girl.

As much as the two of you enjoy going out, you both opted for a night in. You decide on a movie night, ordering takeout and having a truly lazy evening, just the two of you. Whenever you two do a movie night, you always watch two. One is your pick of movie and the other is her pick of movie. They don't need to be anything alike, but it has helped avoid any fights over who gets to choose.

The food arrives and you two take up your post on the couch. You eat and talk and laugh and really just enjoy each other's presence.

You cuddle up into her as you decide to put on the first movie - it was your choice, The Hating Game.

You are situated between her legs, your back to her front as her arms are draped around your middle, fingers mindlessly playing with the strings of your sweatpants.

As you are watching the movie, you are hyperaware of what her hands and body are doing. Her head is leaning on yours, adjusting every now and then to breathe in your scent and tease your neck with her breath.

Her hands toy with the waistband of your pants and you can't help but get excited. It has been a minute since the two of you have been intimate. Not from a lack of desire but just a lack of time. So being here now, knowing you two have the whole night - you are ready. Beyond ready, really.

Your hands graze her forearms as she reaches one of her hands into your sweatpants. Her fingers lazily play around you as you grow impatient.

"Cait - please," you say and your head leans back into her shoulder and you bit your lip.

"Please what?" She asks as she ever so gently swipes your most sensitive spot.

"Please touch me," you practically beg, wanting to feel more of her touch. She obliges as her fingers begin a work on you.

You begin to pant and moan feeling her fingers go deeper inside of you. She is still taking her time, giving you what you want but going nice and slow - enjoying every second of her girl coming undone in front of her. She loves making a mess of you.

You moan her name as you begin to feel your climax build up inside of you. Her free hand comes up to your breast as it begins to massage it, giving you a little more pleasure. You lean your head up more and use one of your hands to turn her head to bring her lips to yours.

Her lips meet yours and you moan into her mouth. You missed this so much.

Her fingers begin to pick up the pace as she feels you getting close. Not only that but you get quite vocal when you near your climax and Caitlin absolutely thrives off it. It sets a fire in her and she never wants your moans to end.

"Babe, don't stop. I am so close," you moan as your eyes squeeze shut. Her fingers doing a work on you and her lips make their way to your neck, leaving little love bites up and down it - overloading your senses.

Right as you are about to finish, you are met with emptiness. Climax fading before it even arrives. Your whole body jolts and the nastiest whimper cries from your lips.

"Caitlin Clark, what the..." you are about to yell as she places two of the fingers she just removed from you and pushes them gently but firmly in your mouth. You moan into her fingers.

She then begins to sit up, taking you with her. You move to a sitting position on the couch as she gets up and grabs your hand, placing kisses all over the backside of it.

"I plan on taking my time with you little one," she says as she pulls you up from the couch.

"And I am just getting started," she says as she lifts you over her shoulder and takes you to your shared bed.

AN: Well here it is! I hope this did the request justice. Thanks for reading lovelies! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[cerise-on-top]

what if the 141 boys had a ridiculously tall husband. like. a little bit taller than konig, probably. and he's really scary to people, actually!!!! but not his s/o , nuh uh, he's disgustingly sweet to his beloved.. sorry i'm rambling, i think (jokes and idiocy aside i adore your headcanons <3)

Hey there! Thank you, that's very kind of you! Also thank you for sending in a request for a male reader, you're one of the first ones and I was very excited to write about a male reader for once :D

TF141 With A Very Tall Husband

Price: He didn’t really think he’d ever be dating someone much, much taller than him. Sure, he doesn’t particularly mind, but he’s not short either, with him standing at 1,88m himself. It makes him feel small at times, especially if you’re pretty muscular too. He doesn’t get insecure about it in the slightest, oh no, but it’s weird to be so much shorter than your loved ones. However, he’s pretty used to scary people by now. Ghost isn’t exactly a delight to have around at first when you don’t know him either, so he knows how to deal with scary people. Might ask you to tone it down a little bit when you’re scaring other people too much, he doesn’t particularly wanna attract attention like that. But you being a sweetheart towards him? It melts his heart. He knows what you’re like towards people that aren’t him, so it makes him smile that you’re willing to do just about anything for him just to spend some time with him. You wanna trim his beard? There’s a good chance you’ve got some experience with that anyway, so he really doesn’t mind it as much. Hell, he probably trusts you more than his own barber at times. Besides, it’s a nice little bonding activity. If you have a beard then he’ll offer to trim it for you as well. Price isn’t really opposed to being the little spoon, or just being held in general. Quite the opposite, you being this tall sometimes puts him in a cuddly mood where he just plops down into your arms. Gently scratch his scalp and there’s a good chance he’ll even fall asleep on you. He’s so used to being everyone’s protector, it feels nice to be protected for once. But he won’t always settle for being held either, it’s his job to make you feel safe and sound as well, and thus he will take on the role of cuddler as well. Will fight you for that role, actually. Price is a real sweetheart towards his loved ones as well, so I think the two of you would fit well together. His mere presence demands respect in the right people, which can sometimes scare others. So, from time to time, you might both scare other people together. Sometimes intentionally, sometimes unintentionally.

Gaz: He makes so many jokes about you being this tall and feigns being hurt about being much shorter than you are. You’re his behemoth, his leviathan and his ziz. Loves calling you the names of monsters that are said to be pretty big, it’s endearing to him. Besides, you’re scary enough that some people call you a monster anyway, if just for your height. If anyone ever were to call you that in front of Gaz, then they’ll end up with a black eye. No one gets to call you a monster but him. While he won’t always approve of you scaring everyone, Gaz does have a few friends that he wants you to get along with, he won’t particularly do anything about it either if that’s just what you’re like. Might try to make you seem a bit less scary by being a bit more affectionate with you in public. Holding your hand, giving you a peck on the cheek, giving you a hug. Those kinds of things. He actually loves you being this tall since that means you can pick him up and spin him around. He’s not been picked up ever since he was a little boy, so he definitely wouldn’t mind you showing off to him just how strong you are. Is also always looking for an excuse to hold your hand. Oh, seems like he forgot just how big your hand actually is and how much it engulfs his. Remind him for a moment and hold his hand, will you? Gaz is a sweetheart towards his loved ones anyway, if you look past the fact he will sass anyone to show his affection, so he loves that you’re so sweet towards him. Though, sometimes he wishes you were about the same height so you could actually share each other’s wardrobe. But hey, at least he gets to wear your extremely oversized shirts and hoodies, one of his favorite things to do. Another thing he also adores is just sitting in your lap when you’re home together and will also place your hands so that you’re holding him in your arms. If you’ve got really warm hands then he’ll place them atop his thighs to keep himself warm. Gaz isn’t the warmest person out there, but that just means you get to warm him up yourself. Is actually a lot cuddlier because you’re this tall and will become your personal blanket.

Ghost: He feels kind of perplexed about you being so much taller than him. Ghost is 1,95m, he towers over pretty much anyone, so how dare you be so much taller than him. Pretends to hate you being this tall, actually loves it. Sometimes he dreams of sparring with you under the moonlight to assert his dominance, even though there’s really no need to since you’re such a sweetheart towards him. He probably just needs to ask and would get anything from you. He really doesn’t mind you scaring pretty much everyone off, he has the same effect on people he doesn’t know. That just means there’s less people to worry about in his life for the time being. You’ll be spending a lot of time alone with each other that way, which he really likes. Though, maybe don’t scare his teammates too much, he genuinely likes them and wants them to be well too. Though, it’s kind of hard to properly scare them anyway. Ghost is usually a pretty quiet man when there’s no need for chit chat, but he doesn’t mind hearing your voice. In fact, he might get worried if you suddenly stop talking and will ask you what’s wrong. If you’ve got nothing to talk about then he’ll ask some questions so he can continue hearing your voice. He also blushes from time to time when you suddenly give him some sugary sweet compliments. He’s a grown, scary military man, he really shouldn’t be, but it’s just so endearing, especially when you, even bigger and scarier, call him your little honey bunny. It actually motivates him to do house chores. Not that he won’t do them anyway, but you calling him embarrassingly domestic names makes him just a tad bit soft, which leads to him trying to be a good husband. You may cuddle him since he trusts you, but he will also want to hold you from time to time. Life is a constant give and take, so prepare to be cuddled. Won’t particularly ask for cuddles, though, since he’s kind of too embarrassed to admit he’s touch starved. To you it’s blatantly obvious, though, which is why you initiate those cuddling sessions. Ghost appreciates it and sometimes hides a smile in either the pillow or your neck. As long as you don’t see him being silly, all is good.

Soap: He used to hate you being this tall. Soap may “only” be of average height, but he’s the tallest in his family, which he was actually pretty proud of. He towered over his father, even. And then he joined the military, where quite a few people were taller than him. And then you had the audacity to introduce yourself to him. You, the tallest man he’s ever met. It hurt his ego. Ever since you got together, though, he slowly got over it. You’re just such a sweetheart, how could he hate you over something as trivial as this? However, nothing could ever stop him from trying to pick you up and spinning you around. Soap is a pretty strong lad too, he’ll make it work somehow. You will feel tiny and cared for too. There’s a good chance he can’t reach your lips to kiss you. Yes, he could just ask you to bend down, but where’s the fun in that? Climbs you like a tree instead. He’s also always thinking of that one post where, instead of asking their boyfriend, the person should just punch him in the stomach. He won’t do it, but he remembers it every time without fail. He doesn’t mind you being scary either. Hell, Ghost is also a pretty scary guy to have around when you don’t know him and he’s one of Soap’s closest friends. Besides, he knows better anyway. You’re a total goof and the biggest sweetheart this world has ever seen. You being scary towards others just means that he’s got you all to himself all the time. Soap is a clingy guy, so you can expect him to cling to you like a koala from time to time. Actually, that was a lie, you should expect him to jump at you and hold onto you very often. Cuddles over safety. You’re likely also one of the only people on the planet willing to hear him out when he’s talking about his passions. And he could go on for hours every time. Explosives, weapons, whatever show you’re watching together, all is fair game. See, you’re one of the biggest sweethearts to him because you actually listen to him, despite him going into great detail about it all. You may not always be able to understand him when he’s talking chemistry again, but you hear him out anyway, and for that alone you’ve won his heart. He also sits on your lap while talking. You’re his little throne now that he takes immense pride in.

[celestiaras]

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by @cryingaboutit1514 ˚₊ ⊹

ft. luca kaneshiro, hex haywire (separate) x gn! reader — luxiem/xsoleil, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ reacting to you biting back after getting teased┊1k words

contains: smut!! dom reader & sub luca/hex┊teasing but no dialouge, brat-taming (& bratting for hex), biting, blowjobs for luca & handjobs for hex, edging/orgasm denial, overuse of the word “tease”

➤ author's note: i hope this piece is okay, it doesn’t quite live up to my standards (also i lost the ask, it’s at the bottom lmao)

he’s been at it for about half an hour now, not letting up because he doesn’t think that he’ll ever get bored of teasing you! how could you expect him not to bully you when you just have the cutest reactions? the way you pout and glare at him just reminds him of an adorable little angry kitten and it makes him want to poke fun at you even more, holding back the urge to reach out and pinch your cheeks after ruffling through your hair as if you were a child. there wasn’t anything that you could really do to get him to quit it as all attempts to tease him back were only met with more ridicule, adding to his beaming smile with sparkles like he wasn’t making you go gray early,

you didn’t want to just storm off in the middle of it since it was all in good fun, but you needed to shut him down with a win for you. you needed to do something completely unpredictable if you wanted to get the upper hand, something that would throw him so off-guard that he wouldn’t be able to make any more snarky remarks. once the light bulb went off in your mind, you were quick to act, pushing him into back into the couch mid-sentence and sinking your teeth into the flesh of his neck. it wasn’t deep enough to draw blood or bruise, but enough to sting a little as a warning. when he found himself underneath you with wide eyes at the unexpected action, you knew that you were finally the one in charge now.

━━━ .°˖✧ luca kaneshiro ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ he’s also prone to biting on occasion as a form of affection, but for you to turn the tables and do it back as a form of a threat had him shocked with a goofy ass smile on his face, feeling confused yet turned on by your sudden assertion of dominance. now it was your turn to tease him, telling him that he shouldn’t have dished out what he couldn’t take and how it was so easy to one-up the heir to a mafia boss. he can never handle getting teased back and always ends up doubling down, quickly becoming redder than a beetroot, and regretting his poor decisions of messing with you.

it’s so cute how quickly you have him chanting “i’m sorry” over and over again, his arm tossed over his face in a poor attempt to cover his scarlet face from your ministrations. he was practically begging you to let him cum, but he also doesn’t want it to stop because the warmth of your mouth and your tongue licking long strokes on him felt absolutely heavenly. perhaps he doesn’t regret bullying you too much if he gets punished like this, but maybe you’ll have mercy on him and let him off with a slap on the wrist?

when you notice his pleading puppy eyes, you lifted your head with a pop when you let go of his cock and he whined at the loss of stimulation. should you really let him off? he does seem genuinely apologetic, even starting to bribe you with gifts of any price since he could afford an entire country if you really wanted it. you hummed out loud as if you were contemplating even though you already knew your decision, just to torment him a little more and to make him sit in anticipation with his twitching cock out. he was far past embarrassment at this point, so when you just shook your head with a smile, he couldn’t help but straighten up in excitement now that he had your forgiveness.

━━━ .°˖✧ hex haywire ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ he’s a bit surprised it took you so long to bite back and to do it so literally too had him cracking a chuckle, only putting up his hands in a mock surrender when you asked him what his deal was. clearly, he was still trying to get a raise out of you even though you had him pinned down with your hands pressing down on his board chest. he already made it this far by pushing your buttons, why not push you over the edge to elicit another response out of you? it wouldn’t be any fun if you just left him hanging without any punishment, so maybe he could sneak in just one more playful jest to see what else you’ll do to him…

“you got anything else you wanna say to me?” you asked rhetorically, running your thumb over his leaking tip and smirking when all that came out was a groan. his mind was too fuzzy to think of a witty response right now, on the cusp of climax that you were denying him of because of his previous actions. it almost made him feel sorry since he wanted to cum so badly right now, but it was worth it to provoke you and have you put him in his place— especially when you trail your fingers along his rock-hard length that had his eyes rolling back. knowing you, you were going to edge him for as long as he teased you, but was he willing to suffer through the pleasurable pain for thirty minutes?

“oh please,” he scoffed, “i could keep this up for an entire hour if i wanted to.” it was a bold statement and you were going to test it to his limits, making him gasp at the feeling of your pace suddenly speeding up before abruptly stopping and almost tearing up at the feeling fading away leaving his throbbing cock just aching for release. he wasn’t one to show his wavering strength turning to weakness so quickly, so you knew that you were going to win this in the end despite his stubbornness. he can be a winner with the mind-blowing orgasm that comes after being teased for so long too, but only if he admits an apology and if you feel nice enough to give it to him.

request was [ hi queen (literally is shaking from head to toe) may I pretty please have hex and luca's (separately if that's ok) reaction to you getting flustered and "angry" when they tease you? And when u bite back (quite literally) how would they respond? (hahaha smutty smut) help the amount of times I had to reread what I wrote bc it didnt make sense and I'm just like omg how do I ask a mutual stuff again ]

[mahs-dumpster]

Tsum Tsum!

a/n: I took one look at Ruggie's tsumderland card and went insane

cw: oc x canon (Ruggie x Daisy)

Words: 456

Dividers.

“This is getting ridiculous now.” 

“Shh!! He’s sleeping!” Daisy shushes her lover and quickly looks down at her lap. Ruggie’s tsum lookalike was so incredibly adorable, as soon as he landed his eyes on her he hadn't gone away since, and now he's softly purring like a cat.

Oh, and holding Ruggie’s wallet.

“Can you at least give me my wallet back?” Ruggie asked, a frown on his face as he saw his girlfriend being monopolized by a round small version of himself… goodness, the little thing looked proud to be held by her. The nerve. 

“But he’ll look sad…”

“Who cares! Your boyfriend is very sad now, what are you gonna do about it?” Daisy stopped, eyes wide as Ruggie finally realized what he said and cringed. His ears went down and his face was all red, he looked somewhere else in embarrassment. “J-just give me my money back will you?”

Daisy chuckled for a moment, her own cheeks feeling warm. As one hand continued caressing the tsum gently, the other grabbed the wallet and she returned it to its rightful owner. 

“Thanks…” the boy said, opening it up to check if the few thaumarks he had were still there or not. Suddenly, he felt a warm feeling on his cheek, Daisy’s soft lips against his skin, giving him a sweet kiss before backing away, looking at the tsum as she cleared her throat.

“Sorry, this little guy is just so cute, I can't help it. But you're still my number one.” Ruggie turned his face, not wanting to be seen by her the way he was right now. So flustered, so embarrassed but so incredibly happy. He was certain his tail was wagging like crazy and he hated it. “Oh, he’s awake.”

“It.”

“He’s clearly alive so I'm not calling him an it!” Daisy pouted as the tsum climbed up her arms and rested on her shoulder, making the blonde chuckle. “What is it, little guy? Do you want something?”

Without any warning, the tsum’s ‘face’ clashed against Daisy’s soft cheek, giving her the best he could give similar to a kiss.

Ruggie was fuming.

“Alright, that's enough! Get back here you sneaky little–” as he tried to grab the small being he quickly jumped from Daisy’s shoulder, jumping around the botanical garden and running away from the hyena beastman. “You– Daisy!” Ruggie pointed at her, making her flinch from surprise. “Once I get back be prepared to give me all your attention, I don't want to see that thing close to you no more!”

“I– ok?” 

And with that he ran off in search of his tsum, making Daisy laugh out loud. Who knew two Ruggies could cause such chaos.

[dpsisquared]

A long wipwed because I crack myself up. As I tend to do, I ignored the results of Byleth's wyvern naming poll. (She does not name it Dimitri or Soup)

"Lady Byleth, do you have plans this afternoon?" asked Mercedes. "Annie and I are having tea, complete with my freshly baked scones!" "I'd love to, but I have to scrub out Dimitri's mouth," Byleth said, "That brat got into the garbage again and ate some of Flayn's failed culinary experiments. I'm sure you can imagine what that would do to someone's breath." She waved her hand in front of her face to mime a terrible smell. There was a clang as several forks dropped down onto plates, and confused looks surrounded them around the table. Dimitri buried his face into his hands. "Byleth, for the hundredth time, will you please reconsider naming your wyvern Dimitri?" he pleaded. Her face scrunched up into an adorable pout, and he could feel his resolve melting away. But no, he had to insist on this. It was so humiliating. "But Cyril said it's Almyran tradition to name a wyvern after a loved one whose spirit you want them to embody." "That's very flattering, but I'm quite sure he meant a deceased loved one." "I don't have any," she said. "Except my mother. But Sitri is a ridiculous name for a wyvern." Well, if all else failed, he could always change his name to Sitri, since that was apparently safe from being co-opted for a pet. "Then perhaps someone admirable from legend?" he suggested desperately. "How about Kyphon?" "Don't you dare," said Felix. "Your girlfriend is not riding around on one of my ancestors. Besides, I think she's picked a perfectly suitable name for a slavering beast." Byleth narrowed her eyes at Felix, and his smirk fell. "Sorry, Dimitri," he mumbled. "Eh?" asked Sylvain. "Do my ears deceive me, or was that an apology to His Majesty I just heard?" Felix jutted out his chin and crossed his arms. "She won't spar with me if I'm mean to him." Sylvain threw back his head and laughed. "How are you whipped by another's man's fiance?" Sensing Felix's anger rising, Dimitri intervened. "I think we're getting a bit off topic. Kyphon is out, apparently. You can't think of anything else, beloved?" She looked down at her bowl, and oh no, he could see where this was going. "I beg of you, do not say Soup."

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Norsemen & Anglo-Saxons Chapter 1

Here's the new story! I hope y'all like it.

Viking!Bucky Warnings: eventual smut, abuse, violence, animal attack, blood

The New Year was upon them.  The castle was bustling with maids and squires decorating and scrambling to get everything ready in time. The halls were filled up with garlands, pinecones, dried oranges, berries, and candles lit every ten feet.  A large tree had been hauled into the great hall during Christmas Time and decorated with the same oranges, berries and pinecones, as well as ornamental pieces that shone through the branches in the candlelight.  The last seasonal ball was to be held in a few days time, and the noble families from all over the Isles had traveled in to be part of the festivities.

Princess Y/N watched the chaos in boredom as her little brother Prince Alfred, or Alfie,  ran around the room with a stream of ribbon in hand, singing holiday songs at the top of his lungs.  As much as she loved and adored him their age difference was definitely apparent during these moments.  “I watched three ships come sailing in on Christmas day on Christmas day…”

“Alfie if you sing that wretched song one more time I will–”

“You will do nothing,” her mother, Queen Eugenia interrupted as she walked into the great hall to inspect the decorations.  “After all these years of training, you still resort to violence, you ridiculous child.”

“And you still call me a child when I near my thirtieth year, Mother,” Y/N spat back.  “Perhaps my penchant for violence comes from my frustration with said training and the constant degradation of my age and ability.”

“Your petulance and independence has made you unmarriable and therefore a thorn in my side,” Eugenia sighed.  

“There have been no, as you and Father called them, “suitable” suitors to marry me off to, Mother.  And this,” she held out her hand, opening her palm, wherein a green orb of light appeared, “scares you both to death.”

“Put your hand away!” Eugenia ran over and slapped Y/N’s hand down before anyone could see.  “Stop being so careless!”

Y/N rolled her eyes.  “Yes, Mother.”

Eugenia sat next to her.  “You will attend tonight’s ball, dressed appropriately, with a smile on your ungrateful face and nothing but patient, polite mannerisms escaping that mouth of yours.  And you will not play tricks,” she looked pointedly at Y/N’s hands.

Y/N glared at her.  “Yes, Mother.”

Eugenia sighed again.  “Go get ready.”

Y/N left the great hall as Alfie continued singing away.  Her lady’s maid followed her as she roamed the halls towards her room.  The only ones who knew about her ability were her family, the royal advisory court and her lady’s maid.  No one had been able to figure out what to do with it.  She didn’t have a handle on it, either.  She could manipulate objects and people’s bodies to move how she wanted, heal minor injuries, and when touching someone she was able to see their thoughts and feel their feelings.  She could feel that there was something more to it, that her power had the potential to grow, and yet she and her ability had been tamped down so heavily from the moment she first started exhibiting it that she was unable to truly hone it and see what she was capable of.  The advisors had researched their history and fairy tale books extensively and could not find a rhyme or reason as to why she had this power.  The only reason she had not been burned at the stake as a witch was because her father thought it could be useful to him and his never ending battle against the Norsemen.

Y/N had only seen one Norseman in her entire life.  Her father had captured one after a horrible battle and brought him back from the battlefield.  He was what they called a Berserker, a Norseman warrior that would lose all sense of self-preservation and run into battle like a feral animal, like they were out of their minds and drunk with bloodlust.  Her father had put them in a room together, separated by a line of thin prison bars.  The Norseman didn’t try to attack her, just watched her intently.  Her father told her to try her powers on him, see what she could make him do.  Y/N had refused, so her father flogged her to try and make her submit.  The Norseman had become so incensed by her father’s mistreatment that he had broken through the bars, bending them like they were butter, and just as he was about to lay his hands on her father she threw her hands up.  The Norseman was encircled in the green light, stopping him midair.  Her father gave the first genuine smile towards her she had seen in years.  

The guards had shackled him and took him away shortly after that.  The look in his eyes as they dragged him away was one of shock and betrayal.  Y/N couldn’t stand it, and that night snuck through the castle to the dungeon.  She had found secret passages as a child that she used regularly, and slipped through undetected.  She stole the keys and found his cell.  He was awake, and when he heard the jingle of the keys he looked up at her.  His eyes widened and he scurried towards the farthest wall from her.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Y/N had whispered, holding her hands up.  He watched her carefully as she unlocked the door and swung it open.  She had stepped away, giving him room to leave.  He had slowly walked out of the cell, watching her constantly.  He stepped away towards the nearest exiting door.  “Run,” she whispered as she backed away from him, keeping her hands up.

He stopped for a moment.  He cleared his throat and asked in perfect English, “Are you a witch?”

Y/N had blinked at him in surprise.  “I…I don’t know,” she answered honestly.  This man could kill her in a second without making a sound, and yet he merely nodded.  “Thank you, Drottning,” he bowed his head to her then ran off towards the door.

Y/N had never seen or heard from him again.  The castle had been abuzz with confusion and fear upon finding him missing the next morning, but they ultimately decided that the barbarian had his ways and wasn’t worth pursuing. 

Y/N had never trusted her father again after that day, and had steered clear of him whenever and however she could.  He only wanted her for her power and what it could do for him.  He didn’t love her, he didn’t love Alfie.  He was a true English King, hoarding power and wealth wherever he could.

Y/N dressed in her holiday best for the ball and begrudgingly entered the great hall later that night.  The party was in full swing, nobles dancing together as the music played, the King and Queen laughing madly at the jester performing in front of them.  The wine was flowing, making the crowd more rowdy by the second.  As Y/N ascended the stage where the King and Queen sat she saw two short legs poking out and found Alfie hiding behind the Queen’s wide throne chair.  She quickly walked over and pulled him into her arms.  “What are you doing here, Alfie?  It’s late, and this is no place for a young boy,” she scolded him.

“Papa said I had to be here, because I’m to be king, and this is what kings do,” he mumbled.  Y/N glared over at her father, who was drinking himself into a stupor.  Alfie was a mere 11 years old, and already her father was trying to sink his dirty claws into the little boy’s mind and heart.

“No, Alfie, this is not how kings should act,” Y/N reassured him as she ran her fingers through his hair.  “Let’s get you to bed.”

Suddenly there was a loud bang and a whistling as wind whipped through the hall from where the front doors burst open.  A thunderous roar from what seemed like hundreds of men swarming the hall filled the room, echoing through the high ceilings and making Alfie cover his ears.  Y/N held him close as she huddled behind the throne, concealing him and herself as best as possible.  There were shouts and screams from the nobles as the men started to cut many of them down, pushing and beating others as they made their way to the stage.

The King and Queen sat in shocked silence as they watched their guards and nobles die or be captured around them.  Y/N glanced around looking for an escape and saw men standing in the higher windows, pointing arrows at the royals.  She knew they were seen and so any attempt to run would be met with death.  

Heavy footsteps walked up the stage steps, and before she could even move large hands were hefting her and Alfie from behind the chair.  They ripped Alfie from her arms and she screamed, trying to get ahold of him again as he cried and tried to grab for her.  Y/N’s body was wrenched around and she came face to face with a familiar looking man.

“Hello, Drottning, remember me?” the Norseman from years earlier smiled at her.

“You!” Y/N breathed as her eyes widened.

The Norseman chuckled as he led her to the front of the stage to stand next to her Mother and Father who sat dumbfounded on their thrones, Alfie on the other side of them being held back by another man.  Y/N looked around and even through her fear was struck by the attractive nature of these men.  Most of them were spattered in blood and sweat from fighting, and yet she had never seen so many handsome men.  The yelling started to die down as one Norseman walked forward, assumedly the leader, the rest of them parting to let him through.  The one approaching her and her family was easily one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen in her life.  His long, dark brown hair was half tied back with braids that had ornaments of beads and metal cuffs attached to them.  His full beard was cut neatly and framed his pink lips, which were stretched into a menacing smirk.  His blue eyes shone bright like the ocean just after a storm, and she could see the mischievous glint in them as he scanned the family.  He was covered in Norse battle gear from just under his jaw to his feet, a large sheathed sword on his right side and a war hammer at his left.  His left arm was bare, and upon further inspection Y/N realized it wasn’t flesh, but some kind of metal, yet it looked and functioned like a normal arm.  He was huge, like all the other men, tall and broad.  His eyes settled on her and he appraised her, giving her a long look up and down.  Y/N straightened herself under his stare, refusing to bow or show weakness to him.  His smirk deepened at her as he looked back at her parents.

“King Henry, Queen Eugenia,” he greeted them in a deep, booming voice.  “I am James Barnes, Jarl of the Danes, or Norsemen as you like to call us.”  He nonchalantly took a half eaten pastry off the table closest to him and popped it in his mouth, chewing it slowly.  “What a lovely party.  We missed our invitation,” he said with a sly smile, making his men laugh heartily around him.

Henry just couldn’t help himself as he stood up.  “You aren’t wanted, heathens!  Leave immediately!”

“Now now, Henry, is that any way to speak to the ones who have conquered you?” James admonished him.  “I’ve come to make peace, and you want to scream insults?”

Y/N silently gasped.  Peace?  With the Norsemen?  

“Make peace?  While you murder my nobles and threaten my family?  That’s preposterous,” Henry scoffed.  Y/N glared at her father, silently wishing for him to shut up.

“Well you could either choose peace, or watch the rest of your nobles and your family die, starting with your heir,” James threatened, glancing at Alfie.  Y/N squirmed against the Norseman behind her at the threat.  “And we’ll make some stops along the way to some of your most prosperous cities and take what we need.  The choice is yours.”

“That’s no choice!” Henry yelled and then started to move towards James.  “You wretched, barbaric–”

A whistle sounded through the hall as an arrow was loosed.  It flew straight towards Alfie’s chest.  Y/N’s hand yanked out of the Norseman’s hand that was holding her and stretched toward her brother as she screamed, “NO!”

The arrow stopped, hovering right in front of Alfie’s heart, surrounded by the green light.  The men gasped, James staring at Y/N with an awestruck smile on his face.  “So it’s true,” he whispered.  Y/N flicked her wrist and the arrow went flying towards the wall and shattered.  Before she could even drop her hand James was in front of her.  He looked at the Norseman holding her back and nodded to him.  “Thor, is this the English witch of royal blood who freed you?”

The man behind her nodded and lightly shoved her into his arms.  James held her by her arms and looked down at her.  “What’s your name, Princess?”

Y/N could only stare at his bright blue eyes, her heart hammering in her chest at exposing herself and her ability.  “Y/N,” she whispered.  

“Y/N,” he repeated it like it was a prayer.  “I’ve been talking to the wrong person.”  He pulled her forward to face her family.  “Henry, you’ve been hiding something,” he chuckled as he plopped his chin on her shoulder so they were cheek to cheek and ran his fingers up and down her arms, the metal ones sending chills up her spine.  “She’s the one with power, not you.”  Henry glared at her, a hateful look on his face.  “Oh, I see,” James’ voice became sharper.  “You feel threatened by her, so you’ve hid her away, stomped on her potential to grow,” Y/N was nearly shaking as she felt the adrenaline rush through her.  “She’s a goddess among you pathetic royals,” he kissed the side of her head, “and you wanted to reduce her to a torture device.  You let the magic go to waste.”  He turned her towards him again and dipped his face to be at eye level with her.  “We have magic at home.  We can help you learn and grow,” Y/N’s eyes widened at him.  “So I ask you, Princess Y/N.  What do you choose, death or peace?”

Y/N exhaled a shaky breath as she stared at him.  As he touched her she let her ability slip into his mind.  She could find no lie in his words.  He and his people were tired, the constant war depleting their resources and wiping out families.  They won the battles more often than lost, but it had put a strain on their lives.  His mention of magic seemed real, too, with glimpses and flashes of things that were unexplainable popping up in his mind.  Y/N thought about her people and how the English had been begging for peace for years as well, all of it falling on her father’s greedy, prideful ears.  She could tell James was good, and only wanted good for his men and his people.

“I propose an allyship,” she said.  James blinked and his eyebrows furrowed at her.  “A peace treaty with a tradition as old as time,” she clarified, gulping quickly.  “We join our families in marriage.”  His eyes flicked between hers, like he was studying her.  His men around him mumbled as they considered the idea.  “If you are unmarried,” she amended, since she wasn’t sure, “or if someone in your nobility is unmarried, I will come with you as a peace offering, a marriage tribute.  You will have me, and my power, and leave my family and my people be,” she said, trying to look and sound every bit the princess her mother had always wanted her to be.  “And we will end this war and finally bring peace to our people.”

James stood straight, towering over her.  He watched her for another moment, then stepped back and looked to his men behind him.  Two of them walked up and spoke to him quietly.  Y/N waited on baited breath as they consulted with each other.  They stood back and he turned toward her again.  “Done,” he said simply, the smirk returning to his lips.  Y/N nodded and quietly sighed.  “My Drottning,” he spoke lowly, holding out his metal hand.  She put her right hand into his metal hand, admiring it.  

“What does that mean?” she asked him.

“My Queen,” he winked at her.  Y/N blushed deeply.  He turned to his men and held her hand up high in his.  “We have peace!” he yelled triumphantly.  The thunderous roar returned as they cheered, their hands and swords and axes held high as they hugged each other and drank some of the wine left on the tables around them.  James dropped their joined hands and kissed the hand he held, making her blush again.  “Say goodbye to your family, Drottning, we leave immediately.”

He let her go and she ran up the stairs towards her family.  She ignored her parents altogether, grabbing Alfie and holding him tight against her.  

“Don’t go,” Alfie cried as his fingers clutched her dress.

“I have to,” Y/N cried as she carded her fingers through his hair.  “You listen to me,” she knelt in front of him and held his face in her hands, “you remember what I’ve taught you.”  He nodded frantically.  “Do not listen to Father,” he nodded again, making her father sneer at them next to her.  “I’ve seen it in you,” she whispered, laying a hand against his heart then tapping her finger to her head.  “You will become one of the greatest kings England has ever known, as long as you don’t do as Father has done.  You will bring continued peace and prosperity, you hear me?”  She wiped his tears away.  “Because you are a good boy, and will become a great man.  My little king,” she kissed his forehead firmly before pulling away.

Alfie cried harder as she stepped away from him.  She turned to her father.  “Stay away from him,” she warned him, glancing at Alfie.  “I have procured a peace that you, and your father, and your father’s father could never have dreamed of,” she sneered back at him.  “Do good by our people, for once in your miserable life.”  She glared at him before turning back towards James who stood patiently waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs.  

His men were slowly retreating out of the great hall as he held his hand out for her again.  She took it as he flashed one last glance and triumphant smile at her father before leading her out the front doors.  As they walked through the courtyard and towards the horses waiting for them he glanced at her attire.

“Hm, this won’t do while riding,” he said as he twirled her around.  Y/N furrowed her eyebrows at him.  “Where’s your lady’s maid?”

Y/N looked around and saw the telltale eyes peeking from behind the stables.  “May,” she pointed.

James summoned her forward out of hiding.  She quickly ran across the courtyard and into Y/N’s arms, sobbing as Y/N pet her hair.  “Miss May, go fetch your princess’ riding clothes and some simple dresses for travel,” James instructed her.  May stared at him with wide eyes, looking at Y/N who nodded to her.  She was escorted back inside with Thor to get Y/N’s things packed.

As they stood there waiting, the snow started to fall.  Y/N looked up and sighed as the cold kissed her face, a welcome reprieve to her inflamed cheeks from the night’s tension.  She looked towards James who was already looking at her.

“What do I call you?” she asked him.  

“You can call me Bucky,” he said.

“Bucky?” she asked, a small smirk pulling her lips.

“A nickname,” he laughed at her perplexed look.  “Saved for those closest to me.  And since you’ll be my queen–”

“So it is you I’ll be marrying then?”  Y/N asked.

“Yes,” Bucky laughed harder.  “I guess I didn’t make that very clear.”

“Hm,” Y/N hummed.  “You have a very English name...James.”

“Yes,” he agreed, sighing as he looked at the falling snowflakes.  “We Norsemen and you Anglo-Saxons are not that different from each other,” he said with a twinkle in his eye as he winked at her again.  

Y/N pondered that as May came out holding Y/N’s riding clothes and boots with Thor holding a small trunk that he loaded onto one of the wagons they had waiting.  May ran back to Y/N.

“Go change, and then we’ll be off,” Bucky excused Y/N, who led May over to the stables.  They went into an empty bay and May quickly stripped Y/N out of her gown and into her riding clothes.

“My lady,” May said as she held Y/N’s crown in her hands.  Y/N looked at it and gingerly took it from her.  She stared at it for a moment before giving it back to her.  She gave May another hug.  

“Take it, my love,” she said as May sobbed in her arms again.  “Run away and marry that stable boy, Ben, and use it to live long happy lives together,” she said as she pulled away.

May nodded as she cried, gathering up the gown as she said goodbye.

Y/N came back out in her riding clothes.  She approached Bucky who was preparing his horse.  He mounted it and held his hand out to her.  She took it and he helped hoist her behind him on the saddle.  He wrapped her hands around his waist then she felt him tying her wrists together.

“What–” she started, trying to look over his shoulder.

“So you don’t run off,” Bucky cocked an eyebrow at her in warning as he looked back at her.

“I won’t,” Y/N promised.

“That’s what they all say,” Bucky chuckled before he turned to his men who were all waiting.  “To Danmark!!”

“To Danmark!” they all yelled, and the pounding of hooves rang through the night as they all rode out of the courtyard and into the English countryside.

Y/N’s arms tightened around Bucky, her head tucking in between his shoulder blades as the winter wind stung her face.  She was not going to run and wanted to prove it to him.  She wanted peace, even if it meant giving up herself to get it. After about an hour they all started to slow as they reached the water’s edge where multiple ships were docked, secured by other Norsemen who waited anxiously for them.

Bucky untied the rope around her wrists then dismounted.  He held his hands up to her hips and helped her down as well.  He inspected her wrists, giving them a short rub.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered as he pressed a kiss to each wrist.  Y/N was surprised at his affection, but welcomed it in the moment.  He pulled her towards one of the boats.  He helped her step onto it and settled her into a corner of the stern that was covered in furs and quilts.  He pulled one of the furs up and covered her with it, securing it around her shoulders.  There was plenty of room around her as she got herself comfortable.

“It’s going to be a four day journey, Drottning,” Bucky kneeled in front of her.  “This area is for all of us to sleep, so you’ll have at least a few men next to you, but don’t fear,” he reassured her at the look on her face, “they’re harmless.  Just tired.”

Y/N looked around at the men loading themselves into the boat, many of them taking seats at the benches where the oars were sitting.  She felt worried but nodded at him.  He gave her a smile and stepped away to help load more things into the boats.  They all worked methodically together until in just a few minutes they were ready to pull off.  Bucky was stationed at one of the oars as well, giving the signal and they shoved off the shore.

Y/N watched the men in her boat and the others row in perfect unison.  She admired their strength and the way they all seemed to be of one mind as they worked together to get into a good rhythm, making the boat fly through the water.  The rhythmic rowing lulled her to sleep as she snuggled down into the furs below her.

She woke a few hours later.  It was still dark out, the rowing still going strong.  As she shifted to get more comfortable she felt a heavy weight around her waist.  She panicked until she turned and saw Bucky’s peaceful face sleeping next to her, his metal arm resting on her side.  Y/N looked down at the arm.  She admired its craftsmanship, unsure of how he was able to find or create such a thing.  Her fingers traced along the metal, the plates and divots carved like the muscles of a real arm would be.  When she reached his hand she lightly traced each finger with the tip of her pointer finger.  His hand suddenly moved to grasp her wrist.  She gasped as he gently maneuvered her to face him.  His eyes were still closed as he let go of her wrist then wound his metal arm around her back this time, holding her to his chest.  “Sleep, wife,” he mumbled, his voice coming out hoarsely as he kissed her forehead and rested his chin on top of her head.  

Y/N was stiff for a moment until the warmth enveloped her and she melted into his embrace.  She pressed her nose into his sternum and breathed deeply as her hands gripped the fur coat he was wearing.  He hummed as his breathing evened out and a soft snore rumbled in his chest.  It lulled her to sleep again, a small smile on her face.

**picture is A.I. from Pinterest, unknown original "artist" or "creator"**

[daydreamalley]

A Ramble about Phase 19 of the Fifteen Manga Ft. Storm Bringer spoilers

Just absolutely cannot get over the 15 manga. I love the light novel so much, but this manga adaptation is so ridiculously amazing. Dazai and Chuuya’s proximity/touching has been amazing of course. I adore the way Hoshikawa draws Dazai and Chuuya as well (my baby boys, especially Chuuya). But these last two chapters with Rimbaud and Verlaine. Like, fuck. The whole “At least, one of them felt that way,” part just hits so much harder in the manga for me, with the art and page placement. And this whole most recent chapter. Like firstly, you don’t have to end every chapter with like Chuuya getting stabbed okay, help me out here.

Comparing the last page of phase 18 with Verlaine and the first page of phase 19 with Chuuya makes it so obvious that Rimbaud is seeing the similarities between them with just that parallel, which is confirmed later with Rimbaud quite literally seeing Verlaine standing behind Chuuya. 

Not to mention in phase 18 the “That’s right Paul, I remember you,” in conjunction with him seeing Verlaine in Chuuya.

Then that flashback with Verlaine carrying Chuuya and Chuuya’s just so small I could cry.

Like, I knew he was small, but he's just so young, I can't. People were experimenting on him. Like, how??

The way Rimbaud wants to ask Chuuya something and Chuuya crouches down to him. Which leads to Rimbaud putting a hand around Chuuya as he tells him to live. How close and personal they are when Rimbaud says all of this just make it feel so much more impactful for Chuuya. Kinda love too that Chuuya isn't just standing over Rimbaud. He's making it obvious he's open to listening.

Rimbaud says a lot of shitty things to Chuuya up to this point, even complaining that he has to kill a kid while only referring to Dazai, completely not acknowledging Chuuya as anything more than Arahabaki. But once he fully remembers what happened with Verlaine, I feel like that’s when Rimbaud remembers what he truly believed about Verlaine and his humanity and how that extends to Chuuya’s humanity. Because Rimbaud’s whole final speech is most definitely things he’d also thought of or told Verlaine before (as I think is confirmed in SB). I think those are Rimbaud’s true thoughts and beliefs on the matter, it just took that long for him to remember the full story and how he felt about it all. Rimbaud saw Verlaine’s struggles with humanity, and now he also remembers why Verlaine betrayed him. And so he tells Chuuya to live, just as Verlaine wanted him to back then, live without the burden of worrying about your humanity or where you came from, because “you are you.” It doesn’t matter if Chuuya (and Verlaine) “are but a pattern etched on the surface of raw power.” In Rimbaud’s mind, and honestly where we eventually end up at the end of SB, is that it really doesn’t matter what your origins are, whether someone is an artificial personality (aka pattern) etched onto raw power, because really everything is some version of a pattern upon the world. And in a word with abilities, a lot of people are a pattern connected to a power. Just as in SB Chuuya decides that even though Adam isn’t human and he knows it, it doesn’t take away from Adam’s actions, his sacrifices, or his dreams. Same goes for Chuuya and Verlaine. Their origins don't affect how human they truly are. Their humanity is significant no matter what. It just took a bit more convincing for Chuuya to get there, a little more than what Rimbaud could offer on his (almost) deathbed.

Anyway, Chuuya holding Rimbaud’s hand as he dies just does things to me. Like, the book described that “Both Chuuya and Dazai quietly listened as if there was something in what Randou (Rimbaud) was saying that they couldn’t allow themselves to miss… Some things, however, would not return to normal: the body of a man who no longer felt the cold, and the hearts of two boys who stood rooted to the spot, staring at him. A gust of wind peered through their souls as it passed them by.”

This page just so well depicts that last line. It truly feels these boys have heard something so monumental, that they won’t ever forget. Standing in the aftermath of their first fight together, hearing these words about humanity that both mean so much to both of them. Dazai’s expressions really convey this to me in the manga, and convey it just so beautifully. And Chuuya being so close to Rimbaud when he speak those words just makes it feel like those words truly are so monumental for him. And also this means that Chuuya fought to kill a man, that to be entirely fair and clear was trying to kill him first, and then held to his hand as he dies, and there’s just something about this added detail that’s so significant to me in portraying the weight of it on Chuuya. Chuuya's connection to Rimbaud is a complicated but important one. But really these words are important for both boys, because let’s not forget that Dazai also struggles with his humanity. Even if he doesn’t have a physical reason to doubt his humanity, like Chuuya, there are many other reasons that he does doubt it. So hearing that all people and all of humanity are really just patterns within the physical world, human or not that’s true of everyone and everything, and that’s important for Dazai to hear too. I think both boys think back to Rimbaud’s final speech quite a bit, if I’m being honest or did for a while.

I am NOT getting over the detail that someone (Chuuya??) put Rimbaud’s scarf on his grave. I just… it does something to me and I love that detail so much. And cutting back to that “You are you” line while Chuuya’s talking to the grave is just so perfect in my opinion, and again just shows the significance of it so, so well. It’s like, he's talking to Rimbaud, complaining about his actions really, and then it cuts to that “you are you” and it just shows almost the contrast I guess between Chuuya feeling unrest at not finding stuff about his past that Rimbaud could’ve given him, but maybe wouldn’t have anyway, and Rimbaud’s statement that those things don’t matter because Chuuya is who he is beyond all that. Also the little dandelion blowing into the wind, to me also signifying a wish being spread.

Anyway, entirely unnecessary to end the chapter with a big knife in Chuuya’s back, thanks. Especially after Chuuya mentions how he’s still exhausted from everything. Like let’s just, stop, please.

He's just a boy, leave him alone for the sake of all things good.

[lostloveletters]

Still Crazy After All These Years (Bucky Egan x OC)

Summary: It's a perfect Saturday evening in spring, which means only one thing for the Egans: baseball (specifically their son's Little League game).

Note: Fluffy post-war fic of Holly and Bucky being unhinged Little League parents (but we love them for it🥲) Do not interact if you're under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: None.

“C’mon ump, that was out!” Bucky shouted from the bleachers. “Foul ball my as—butt,” he muttered to Holly, who had three-year-old Cynthia in her lap, her chestnut hair pulled up in twin ponytails that blew along with the late spring breeze.

The mid-May air was heavy with DC’s summer creeping up on them. The swampy, humid season dragged along until he finally reached fall’s reprieve. Spring was perfect, though, with its early season baseball games and cherry blossom festival. 

“It’s ridiculous.” Holly shook her head, her hand in the bag of pretzels she brought along, having carefully broken some into smaller pieces for Cindy.

“Who’s pitching? Is that the Baker kid?”

She nodded. “Yeah, Terry and Lynn’s youngest boy, Danny. He’s pretty good when he’s focused.”

“I can’t see,” Cindy pouted.

“Come on up, princess,” Bucky said, lifting his daughter and holding her on his hip. “Better?”

She nodded, wrapping her small arms around him as best as she could. 

“You know, when you’re a little older, they have leagues just like this for girls.”

“Honey.”

“I’m just letting Cindy know she has options!”

“Where’s Henry?” Cindy asked.

“You see him, right over there?” Bucky pointed at the boy playing shortstop whose dark, curly hair was barely contained beneath his blue baseball cap, a big orange ‘B’ for Bears embroidered on it. All of the local Little League teams were named after some type of animal, and Henry’s game schedule made him feel like he was in the Wizard of Oz with how many lions and tigers and bears were on the sheet of paper he brought home from his first day of practice.

“Henry! It’s Cindy!” she shouted, waving frantically at her brother.

The boy looked up, waving in the general direction of his family. Bucky and Holly had been in the middle of packing up the Christmas decorations when Henry asked them if he could sign up for the neighborhood Little League team that upcoming spring. Holly nearly dropped a box of glass ornaments in excitement.

Watching a major league game, Yankees or not, paled in comparison to cheering on for his own son. Even strikeouts and missed catches made Bucky overwhelmed with pride, because Henry was out there trying, making mistakes he could improve on in their backyard with Bucky’s encouragement to buoy Henry’s spirits if he felt a little discouraged—or got distracted. He had to give the coach credit. Keeping the attention of a dozen six- and seven-year-old boys long enough to teach them how to play a decent game of baseball couldn’t have been an easy feat.

“Out!” the umpire shouted.

Holly clapped as Henry’s team left the field to line up near home plate. “Now we’re talking.”

The kid batting before Henry hit a pop fly and was out before he could even make it a few feet from home plate. Bucky heard Holly take a deep breath when Henry walked up to bat. First pitch was a strike, but the second was almost perfect, the crack of the bat breaking through the crowd’s murmuring. The ball flew into the outfield, landing just in front of the chain link fence that separated the baseball field from the playground.

“Nice hit, Henry!” Bucky shouted.

Holly jumped up, bag of pretzels spilling across the bleachers. “Way to go, sweetheart!”

Bucky grabbed Holly’s hand as they watched their son pass first and make it to second before the centerfielder could throw the ball back to the infield.

“Kid’s a natural,” Bucky whispered excitedly, as all good parents do, adoration filling his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of Cindy’s head. Holly liked to joke that the day Henry was born, Bucky cried more than their newborn baby did, but their son, and later their daughter, too, were the culmination of every hope and dream he desperately clung to for the better part of two years of just surviving. Because of that, he’d do anything for them.

He watched as the inning continued, his eyes on Henry the whole time. The next batter managed to get to first, but Henry flew past third and made a break for home just as the second baseman caught the ball.

“Go Henry!” Holly shouted. “Go go go!”

“You got this Henry! Come on buddy!”

Bucky was sure his heart was going to explode by the time Henry slid to home plate, barely a second before the ball flew into the catcher’s hand.

“Safe!” the umpire announced, nearly drowned out by Holly’s screaming.

“Attaboy Henry!” Bucky cheered.

“He did it! He fuc—flipping did it!” Holly gave Bucky a celebratory kiss, the two of them hardly able to contain their smiles long enough for their lips to meet for all that long. 

The rest of the game flew by. Nothing could compare to the rush of watching Henry steal home. The Bears won by a run, and Holly and Bucky were equally convinced it was thanks to their son. As soon as they found him after the game was over, Holly engulfed him in a hug, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“You did fantastic, sweetie! What a game!” she exclaimed, almost looking a bit teary-eyed when she took Cindy’s hand in hers.

“Look at you! Stole home like a champ,” Bucky said with a smile, pulling off Henry’s cap to ruffle his hair.

Henry smiled, front tooth missing, the first of his baby teeth to fall out. The tooth fairy had left him a quarter to mark the occasion. “Thanks, dad.”

“I think this calls for ice cream,” Holly said, as if they didn’t go for ice cream after every game Bucky was able to go to.

Bucky nodded. “Definitely. Whatever you kids want.”

——

Scoopland was one of the first places Holly had taken him to when they were stateside and he made the move to DC with her. A neighborhood staple she frequented before the war, she’d been excited to bring him there. The place boasted over 20 different flavors of ice cream, and after trying them all over the course of their first summer together after the war, found he liked their Rocky Road the best. Holly was partial to mint chocolate chip, a newer flavor which he thought tasted like toothpaste. 

Bucky walked up to the counter, tasked with ordering the ice cream while Holly wrangled Henry and Cindy into a nearby booth. She had the most difficulty getting Henry to sit down, since he spotted some friends from his baseball team on the other side of the ice cream shop.

“How’s it going Mr. Egan?” the teenage boy behind the counter asked.

“Can’t complain.”

“The usual for you guys?”

Bucky smiled. The usual. He wasn’t sure he ever figured himself to be the type of guy to have a usual at an ice cream place, but parenthood changed a lot of things. Sometimes, Cindy dealt out tea parties and temper tantrums in the same day. Henry got himself a trip to the emergency room just a few months prior while he was sledding on a snow day with his friends and went straight through a neighbor’s fence. He wasn’t sure how Holly managed on her own when he’d go away for work. At least her parents were nearby and took every opportunity to spoil their grandchildren that was presented to them.

He brought the four cups of ice cream over to the table, two in each hand, and placed the hot fudge sundae in front of Henry and tutti frutti with extra rainbow sprinkles in front of Cindy. He gave Holly a kiss as he handed her the cup of mint chocolate chip and snickered to himself when he sat down next to Cindy and saw Henry’s nose scrunched on the other side of the table.

“Listen champ, if there’s ever a day I don’t kiss your mom, that’s when you should be making that face.”

“‘S gross,” Henry said through a mouthful of ice cream.

“So is talking with your mouth full.”

Cindy stuck out her tongue, a distorted rainbow of ice cream and toppings that made Henry laugh.

“Next time, we’re taking you both to the zoo and leaving you there so the monkeys can raise you,” Holly said.

“We’re going to the zoo?” Henry asked. “When?”

“I wanna see a zebra and a giraffe!” Cindy exclaimed.

“How about next weekend?” Bucky looked to Holly for her approval, which was given in the smile that’d begrudgingly spread across her face.

Everything said and done, they made a damn good team as parents. Maybe he indulged the kids a little more than he should have, but Holly did her fair share of it too, letting Henry skip school to bring him and Cindy to weekday Nationals games for the hell of it. 

“Can I go say ‘hi’ to Danny and Paul?” Henry asked, looking over his shoulder at his friends who were waving at him.

“Fifteen minutes, but we’re heading home soon. It’s past your sister’s bedtime,” Holly said. “Don’t climb over the seat, Henry, that’s—” She sighed as he climbed over the back of the booth anyway, leaving a streak of dirt from his sneakers behind him. “He definitely gets it from you.”

“Me? The first time I met your parents, they made a point to tell me how much of a wild child you were,” Bucky reminded her with a grin.

Her parents were gracious enough to let him stay with them until he and Holly found a place of their own, although he was sure her returning with a ring on her finger made it easier for them to welcome him into their home. Holly must have done a hell of a job talking him up in her letters to them, because none of the awkward tension he’d been expecting was there when he first walked through the door to meet them.

Holly laughed to herself as she wiped off the seat with a napkin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Drawing on your bedroom walls?” he pressed.

“Can I draw on my walls?” Cindy asked.

“No. It wasn’t good when mommy did it.”

“Why not?”

“Because you have nice paper we bought for you to draw on, baby,” Holly said.

“It’s not as fun.”

“Sure it is,” Bucky said. “Remember the other day when we drew that castle with the unicorn and the dragon?”

She yawned. “You made the unicorn look funny.”

“Are you sleepy, Cin?” Holly asked.

Despite shaking her head, Cindy rubbed her eyes. She always did whatever she could to push out her bedtime, as if she were afraid she might miss something big if she went to sleep.

“I guess I should’ve asked mom and dad to watch her, huh?” Holly said. “I didn’t think we’d be out this late.”

Cindy mumbled something incomprehensible before dozing off.

Holly laughed softly, “And she’s out.”

“I got her,” Bucky said, picking up Cindy from her seat and placing her in his lap. She immediately curled up against him, and he tried not to think too much about how he wouldn’t know when the last time she’d ever do that would be. Hell, Henry was six and already ditching them to hang out with his friends. He glanced over at his son, face scrunched up in laughter at a joke one of them told him. His smile was like looking in a little mirror. 

Bucky ate a spoonful of ice cream, trying to tamper down the ache in his chest.

“You ever thought this would be how you’d spend your Saturday nights?” Holly asked teasingly.

“No.” Bucky smiled. “This is a lot better.”

[my-castles-crumbling]

I have a problem Cas… I think im in love. 

Okay so, there’s this girl. We’ve been best friends like 5 years. I mean i’ve always- okay I don’t know how to explain this. 

I’m basically a fan-fiction come to fucking life. 

So i’m Demisexual, and last year I decided to come out to my family. I don’t know if other Demi ppl have preferences of gender, but I don’t. Honestly labels confuse me. I’m not sure if technically i’m Biromantic and Demisexual but hey, the point is- and what I explained to my family- that i’d be open to dating anyone. 

Basically i was telling them I wasn’t straight. (Obviously Demisexual is also about sexual activities and people and stuff but I wasn’t gonna try and explain to my parents that I don’t really get attracted to random ppl- cause they don’t get it- and I didn’t want to accidentally start talking abt sex). 

So anyway, they were not happy. Have you watched Brooklyn Nine-Nine? There’s this clip where the character Rosa comes out as Bi and her parents are like “That’s okay, since you can still date a man and marry a man and be normal” and they were like that for me (i’m a girl in case that wasn’t obvious- so they wanted me to date a man).

And I didn’t really care to be honest. I had an equal level of straight friends to queer friends, I felt suitably in both worlds. I truly love my family. They’ve always been good to me. But they did imply if I did end up with a girl, they wouldn’t want to meet/know her.

Not to mention the religious trauma. I spent a shit ton of time listening to ppl tell me that same-sex marriage and relationships are a “sin”. Hell- there was this one rlly lovely women at church when I was like 9, but she got kicked out when they congregation found out she was a lesbian. (Okay- not kicked out but like bullied into leaving).

So it was fine for me to accept that I could potentially date a women since i’ve never felt immediate attraction to anyone, it never felt totally real. 

BUT NOW I HAVE A PROBLEM. So my best friend (who is also a girl) of 5 years. She’s amazing. She’s literally the funniest person i’ve ever met, she’s so generous and has helped me so much, and she’s just adorable. She’s like fucking sunshine. And ngl, I don’t often like people who are so cheery all the time because it feels fake and I like people around me to be honest. 

But she just, she has this way of finding the beauty in the stupidest things and it’s so cute. We got splashed by a car the other day, drenched both our outfits, and instead of being mad, she got all excited and had us do a photoshoot in our crazy soaked clothes, and then got all excited that we could cuddle under a duvet and watch a movie with snacks once we got home cause apparently that’s the only acceptable thing people can do after being covered in water (which is exactly what we did).

And she’s not unreasonably happy, you know? Like when people try to cheer people up at bad times and make everyone more sad, she’s not like that. Whenever i’m upset, or mad, she’ll doodle these cute little flowers on coloured paper and write things she loves about the world on the back of them, and once i’m done ranting abt how annoying the world is, she’ll give it to me and smile. She has the best smile.

I have this jar, I write the date on them and put the paper in the jar. 

We’ve been best friends five years, she started doing that like four years ago and i’ve had the jar pretty much from the start. 

It’s always been easy to be around her. We sort of knew each other for like a year, and then I blinked, and we were best friends. I read all the books she gives me even though the plot is super cheesy cause she loves talking about them, I learnt how to bake all her favourite snacks her mum made, cause she’s pretty far from home and honestly a tragic baker. And she cooks dinner (don’t ask how she can’t bake to save her life but is the most incredible cook, it’s unbelievably ridiculous) for us a lot, she learnt to make my fav food. 

We technically live together, we’re at the final year of uni (maybe not tho depending on our next courses, I dunno) so we’ve been living together this year, but before that, I basically spent most of my time around her place anyway.

So yeah, we’re friends. But I realised a few months ago that i’m pretty, definitely, in love with her. I think i’ve felt like this for about a year and it just hadn’t quite clicked yet. 

(I had this awful day and came back to our place to see her genuinely painting our wall a different colour of white. She paints as a hobby and accidentally splatter a ton of blue paint on the wall and freaked out and tried buying white paint to cover it when it wouldn’t wash of and she was sat on the floor with white paint all over her and the wall still blue. 

She told me the story and I burst out laughing. I explained you often need white primer first, to cover the blue, and then to buy the correct shade of white, since ours was sort of chill white and she’d bought bright white. 

It’s the type of thing that would’ve annoyed me so much at the end of such a tough day, but because it was her, I just found it adorable. That’s when it clicked, I love her. She noticed I was tired immediately and felt bad cause she realised i’d had a bad day. I said this cheered me up, cause it did. Then we made dinner together and spent the night reading on the sofa with music on. 

We went to the shop the next day to get the correct stuff and luckily our wall is back to looking almost exactly the same). 

So yeah, I love her. Plus like, being demi, I don’t usually find ppl attractive… I mean i’ve always known she’s aesthetically pleasing, she has good fashion sense and stuff, but like, I tend to view all people as the same sort of level of attractive. BUT NOW ITS LIKE- SHES FUCKING BEAUTIFUL. It’s kind of annoyingly actually. How is everyone not spending all day gazing at her eyes. They’re fucking caramel, like a book character. She says they’re brown but she’s wrong. In dull lighting they seem brown but they’re like dark orange (amber i guess) with little hues of green, but in the sun they’re really bright and caramel and warm. 

She’s a lesbian btw. So theoretically I’ve got a shot. Also, i’ve always been good at reading people and I know she’s had like a small crush on me at least twice in our friendship. You can tell sometimes. 

But recently, it’s been a wreck. I’m so distracted cause i’m in love with her I can’t think, and my friends keep telling me she loves me back but I can’t keep my head on straight long enough to try and tell. 

But. If I do get my head out of my ass and tell her and she does end up wanting to date me, what the fuck am I supposed to do then. Cause if it does work out, i’m pretty sure it’ll last. 

My parents never totally liked her (they probably saw this coming- but I think in the homophobic, all queer ppl date each other, way and not the, they’re meant to be together, way) and if ended up having to tell them i’m actually dating a women, they’d be pissed. 

I always thought i’d end up with man, since it’s easier. No religious guilt about that. But I can put aside my own brains stupidity for her. But I can’t change my parents. But aside from this, they’re literally amazing. But I also know them and I truly don’t think they’ll change.

All my friends having been saying me and her should’ve been dating this entire time. I don’t know, I like to think now would be kinda perfect. I always knew she was gonna be in my life forever, I guess I just got so used to imagining myself with a man I forgot she was an option? That I could be with her romantically forever. You know, assuming she wants to date me.

(We’ll see about that. I’m really not sure. But i’m totally shit at keeping my own secrets so i’m planning to tell her soon if not just for the sake of my own sanity. All my friends say she’ll reciprocate, if she doesn’t, then I guess i’ll go from there, she’s not the type to be weird or bothered that we live together despite it. And if she does… then I have to decide what to do next. My other best friend is literally always right when it comes to our friends dating lives, and she has faith we’ll end up together, so we’ll see I guess) 

But if she does. If she does I’ll have to get into it with my family. I don’t want to lie to them. And I know I shouldn’t judge, but I honestly don’t think they’ll change their minds. I think they’ll say I can come visit whenever, but not bringing my partner. And I won’t want that. And we’ll all argue.  

I never liked knowing my parents didn’t accept this side of me, but I guess I never considered it would be an actual problem i’d have to deal with someday. 

I spend a lot of my time trying to figure myself out. I haven’t had the easiest path in life. But with her, it’s so easy. It’s easier to understand what I like, it’s easier to talk about things, and I fully trust her not to be weird. Or leave. Or get mad for nothing. I don’t have to walk on eggshells around her. I trust her. We don’t argue much. We have, what she calls, three different type of arguments. 

One, “bad mood argues”. She finds it so hilarious that it rhymes. You have to say it with the syllables. Bad-Mood Ar-Gues. We have these cookies in the freezer that we make every month. If one of us is having a bad day, we cook a few cookies to eat and I bought this dumb fridge magnet of a cookie to put on the fridge to signify it’s a cookie worthy bad day. 

Another one is “justifiable anger”. That doesn’t happen much. When we first met, she had this tendency to not tell me when I did something that upset her, and it’d spiral, and i’d be mad she wasn’t talking about why she was mad. So we have a rule to always talk about problems, even the little things. For example, her yelling into the phone to her family for hours while i’m trying to study- she has planned days now, so I can go to the library or she can go out if necessary, or keep the convo below 45 min, her mums like half deaf so she does have to shout, but it’s also VERY loud. Basically we comprise. And make sure no anger builds up.

The third type of argument is, what our friends call, “married idiots”. As in, she shouldn’t use the siri talk thingy while driving cause it never understands what she’s trying to say and so I get jumbled texts that mean nothing and then she thinks she’s told me something she hasn’t told me. She’s nearly understanding that one 🤦‍♀️ And you know, the classic colour of something argument (it’s purple- she’s wrong).  

Anyway. I forgot my point. Oh yeah, everything’s easier with her. I feel comfortable. If i’m being totally honest… i’m pretty sure if I ask her out, she’ll say yes. Like 80% sure. Im just scared to fuck this up, and cause family problems. Cause yeah, she’s worth the drama, but also, it’s her that’ll be being insulted right? She very likely won’t be allowed in my house. I don’t want this to ruin what we already have. 

So yeah. That. I could really do with some advice ❤️

Hi <3

If you do not ask this girl out, I will physically pass away.

Like...I'm not usually so pushy with asks, but you're describing a relationship, hon. This is a relationship. I'm not sure if you follow me because of the Marauders, but you two are literally Wolfstar, And I'm shipping the two of you so hard right now.

If, for some insane reason, she turns you down, it's because she doesn't realize she's in love with you, too.

As far as your family...again, I'm going to be more blunt that usual. You're going to have to face their lack of acceptance for you at some point. It's absolutely shit that they don't accept you, but like...don't let that stop you from being with this girl. Because even if you put off their feelings now, you'll have to deal with it someday, and then you might miss out on an amazing girl.

Please update me. I need updates. I am so invested. I am DYING for updates.

God, I'm rereading all the things you wrote and I'm kicking and giggling. You two are ridiculously adorable. Please kiss her already (with consent).

I'm naming you purple anon. Please write back.

[bluefeathercas]

Finding the Words | Buddie Fic

| in which Buck and Eddie finally give into each other |

Buck knew something was wrong with Eddie, after all they’d been best friends for five years and seen each other through the worst. Not to mention that Buck was hopelessly in love with him, even though Buck had already decided long ago that Eddie definitely didn’t feel the same way.

It was late at night and the station was empty for the most part. Hen and Howie had already gone home to their families and Bobby was in his office finishing off some paperwork. The next crew were slowly starting to filter in and if it weren’t for the fact that Eddie was ignoring him, Buck would’ve welcomed the silence with open arms - especially after the job they’d just finished.

The firefighter was restless, pacing up and down the locker room trying for the life of him to figure out what, if anything, he’d done to piss Eddie off so bad. So bad that Eddie didn’t speak to him, let alone look at him, the entire ride home. Buck could’ve sworn he was about to throw up, the mere thought of doing something to upset his best friend so much made him sick.

His thoughts were interrupted when Eddie suddenly walked into the room, their eyes met briefly before Eddie looked away, biting his lip in frustration.

“I’ll come back.” Eddie said, moving to close the door.

Buck was quicker, moving to hold the door open, his foot acting as a door stop as he reached his arm up to lean against the door frame for support.

“C’mon Eddie, you’ve been ignoring me all night.” Buck pleaded.

Eddie had his head down, his eyes searching for something to focus on, anything but Buck’s face.

“I don’t want to do this right now, Buck.” He started, wishing he’d kept his bag in his truck so he never had to go in the locker room to start with.

Buck stepped closer to him, the distance between them closing as he dipped his head a little to try and catch Eddie’s gaze.

“Hey,” he started, his voice soft. “Talk to me.”

Eddie cursed himself, how could he resist? 

He looked up, his eyes finally meeting Bucks and he could’ve almost died from heart failure at the sight of him. From his blue eyes to his pink lips and then that ridiculously adorable birth mark on his left eye - Eddie was in love.

But he was also angry.

Actually, he was furious.

“Seriously Buck, it’s like you have a death wish or something.”

Eddie brought his hand down over his face, trying his best to stay calm. He didn’t like being angry at anyone, let alone Buck. But with the job they'd just finished and seeing Buck jump from the ladder, onto the roof and then disappear into a fiery hole…

Eddie almost disappeared too.

What made it worse was how helpless he felt watching the flames grow, Cap and Howie having to hold him back as he stared in disbelief. He thought Buck was gone. So when he walked out of that building, the kid in his arms safe and sound and then jumped in the truck as if he didn’t just completely disregard his entire life - Eddie didn’t know how to feel.

“Did you ever stop to think about what would happen if you didn’t make it? If you didn’t come out of that burning house? If you went down with it?”

Buck frowned, not understanding why Eddie was so upset at a simple rescue. Usually it was Cap on his case, not his best friend.

“Wait- This is about the job? Eddie I was fine-"

“Every damn time we get a call, I worry about you. Because I know that you’ll run in, heart first without thinking about the consequences.”

“Eddie I-”

“You live like no one cares about you, like no one would miss you if you weren’t here tomorrow. But that’s not true.”

“Ed-”

“I mean did you even think about how much I-”

Eddie stopped, biting the inside of his cheek in a bid to stop his feelings from spilling out of his chest. He took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, tears threatening to spill from his eyes and down his cheeks.

Bucks frown disappeared and he went to reach his hand out to place it on Eddie’s shoulder.

But Eddie moved back.

“-How much Christopher would’ve missed you?” he finally finished.

Bucks hand fell back down to his side and he could’ve sworn Eddie was going to say something else.

In fact, he knew Eddie was going to say something else.

“Because if anything ever happened to you, Evan, it would tear him apart. You know that right?”

Buck let out the breath he’d been holding in for far too long, his teeth were clenched and he wanted so bad to just kiss him. To grab Eddie by his stupidly broad shoulders and pull him into his own body. He’d thought about it so many times, how Eddie’s skin would feel against his own. He knew they’d melt together like glue and damn, how he wished for it.

How he wished for anything, any sign that maybe Eddie loved him back. Even liked him back, that would be enough for Buck. He could deal with only being liked by Eddie.

He had enough love inside for the both of them.

“Well I hope Christopher knows, that I’d never just leave him like that.”  Buck started, his eyes never leaving Eddie’s.

“I’m a firefighter, it’s my job to fight fires and if I have to, save people from them. I mean, we work in the same job Eddie. You know what it’s like, we do what we have to do to get the job done. To save people.”

Eddie kept silent, caught somewhere between admiring Buck and wanting to knock him out for being so clueless, so selfless.

“Eddie” Buck reached his hand out again, this time resting it on Eddie’s shoulder. “I’m fine, okay?”

Eddie nodded with a small smile, “I know you’re fine, Buck.” He breathed, his eyes moving to the floor, “But I’m not.”

“I’m not fine, with the thought of losing you- of Christopher losing you and having to explain to him that he won’t get to see you again. D’you know what that’d do to him, Buck? That’d destroy him and all because you love your job more than you love the people in your life-“

“Woah, Eddie… Calm down. It’s not that serious.“

Buck stepped away, his frown returning as he raised his voice “And why’re you getting up me anyway? You’re my best friend, not the Captain!”

He said, throwing his hands in the air.

“Because!” Eddie shouted, gritting his teeth as he moved closer, forcing Buck to fall back against the locker room wall.

Their faces were inches apart and it took all of Eddie’s strength not to look at Buck’s lips, because if he did, he knew it’d all be over. Buck sucked in a breath, his eyes scanning Eddie’s face for anything that could explain what the hell his problem was, but they found Eddie’s lips instead.

“Because,” Eddie repeated, “I-“ He bit his lip, trying so hard not to combust.

“Damn it.” he breathed, his eyes flicking to Buck’s lips.

Buck raised his hand in a moment of realisation, and placed it on Eddie's cheek. His thumb rubbing over Eddie's cheek bone.

“Me too.” Buck nodded.

Eddie looked shocked, his eyes meeting Bucks in confusion as Buck dipped his head down quickly, his lips meeting Eddie’s in an explosion of euphoria. They kissed deeply, small moans escaping each others mouths as Eddie pushed his body against Buck’s.

“We uh- we probably shouldn’t do this here.” Buck whispered, reluctantly pulling away from Eddie.

Eddie nodded in agreement, “Mmhm, my Abuela has Christopher tonight.”

Buck smiled, gathering his things and passing Eddie his bag from the top of his locker.

“You know this doesn’t give you a free pass to keep jumping into burning buildings-“

Buck cut Eddie off with a kiss, his hands grabbing at the sides of Eddie’s shirt at the same time.

“I know, but you can get up me about it when we get home.” Buck smirked.

They walked out together, Eddie trailing behind Buck wondering if this was all just a fever dream. Their bodies pressed together, their lips touching, Buck feeling the same way - Buck loving him.

And Buck was in his own world of amazement, taking a moment to play back the whole thing in his mind. He’d admired Eddie since their first job together and somewhere along the way, fallen in love.

“Me too.” He whispered to himself.

Me too. [ this fic is also on ao3, you can find the link here ]

[calltocupid]

more tim laughlin headcanons of mine (cause a few people asked). most of these are as if tim was living now in a modern setting!!

tim has a cat!! he adopted one when he first arrived in san francisco. the shelter is right around the corner from his apartment, and he just couldn’t help himself. she’s very clingy with him and follows him all around his place, and he names her salem!! when hawk is there, tim finds him asleep on the couch with salem curled up on his chest more times than he can’t count.

he adores the east coast, specifically the upper region (new england + new york). him and hawk take little trips up to cape cod every summer. they rent the same house every year, a nice place in eastham that’s a 2 minute drive from their favorite beach. when the tide goes out, tim always manages to convince hawk to walk out real far with him. hawk gets stuck on seashell duty. (he holds them while tim picks them up.)

while they’re in the cape, they always take drives to tim’s favorite light houses. tim has a very big thing for lighthouse, okay? (no… i’m not just giving tim my own interests… what ever do you mean?) but they also go to provincetown!! they walk down the pier. they go into cuffey’s and get new, matching cape cod sweatshirts every year. they eat at one of the restaurants there. they hold hands the whole time and press laughs against each others mouths as they kiss because they’re just so. fond of each other. and tim tastes like the strawberry ice cream hawk bought him at lewis brothers ice cream.

the tattoo he has on his arm isn’t the only one he has.

when he���s writing or drawing, he’ll often chew the ends of the pencil or pen when he’s paused to think about his next move.

everytime he picks up skippy peanut butter in the store, it makes him smile. maybe a little too much.

he has a ridiculous amount of playlists on spotify. his taste is wide ranged, but his favorite artists are ethel cain, bon iver, novo amor, lord huron, and current joys.

when he gets really anxious he tends to bite his nails or chew really hard at his bottom lip. hawks has to take his hands away from his mouth and wipe blood off his lips more times than he’d like to admit.

he’s very reserved/shy until people open up to him. and then you can’t get him to stop talking—mayor of yap city, he is. (i love him.)

he’s deeply into paranormal podcasts/videos/films. (he has a crush on dean winchester.)

pizza is something he is ridiculously passionate about. hawk finds it to be quiet amusing when tim rambles on about how no pizza place on the west coast could ever compare to the pizza in the upper east coast.

[littlespacereader]

I saw that ur criminal minds agere fic is just one so here is my request

Daddy hoch x dada derek x little reader where something is bothering her but she regressed to a headspace where she is non verbal (she is always tiny in her headspace but today she was extra tiny) and they try to find out what's wrong but there gotta go to work but dont want to leave her alone so they go all to the Bau and after a while she falls asleep with her paci in mouth a stuffy under her arm a blankie in her hand and wrapped in a very big cozy weighet blanked 😍😍🥺

GET OUT OF HERE! Don’t actually because this fic is absolutely adorable!! I’m a sucker for a good CG!Hotch fic but CG!Morgan too!! I’m dead!! I absolutely love the ideas you added to the request so I made sure to include them all! I apologize for how long this took me to write. Between school and all the rewriting I’ve been doing it’s been a bit of a hassle. But I’m very happy with how this fic turned out! Please enjoy!! Thank you for the request!

Baby in the Bullpen 🍼🏢📄

Caregiver! Aaron Hotchner, Caregiver! Derek Morgan, & Fem Little! Reader

Tags - SFW!, hurt/comfort, hugs, cuddles, forehead kisses, pacifiers, sippy cups, low key mentions of pull-ups, BAU family

Nicknames - Princess, sweetheart, baby, sweet girl, Daddy for Hotch, Dada for Morgan

Picture a day where everything is perfect. It’s a perfect day where everything goes well and there’s no problem or pressure at all. Almost like you’ve been floating on a happy little cloud.

Today is not one of those days.

Today is a day where everything that could possibly go wrong goes wrong. Like a rain cloud that’s only centered on you.

I knew the moment I woke up it was going to be one of those days. Snuggled between my Caregivers in a nice warm bed, what more could any Little ask for? But my alarm went off and off to work I went.

It wasn’t every day my Caregivers had the day off, so I was especially mad I had work while the two of them were home. But trying to match my schedule with theirs always seemed like an uphill battle.

I arrived to my job at the bookstore to a line, let me repeat, A LINE of angry customers! How you could possibly be angry in a bookstore is beyond me, but today wanted to test me to see my limits.

So there I stood, listening to one complaint after the other, all while trying to keep my composure.

My book came with scratches on the cover!

My book’s cover was supposed to be purple!

I didn’t like the ending!

You didn’t say it was a sad book!

Blah, Blah, Blah. All utterly stupid and pointless complaints that were more ridiculous than the next. Despite their ridiculous claims it’s began to ware me down with one right after the other.

I longed for the day to end, for my Caregivers, who were probably on each others nerve by now without me as their favorite buffer. The thought brought a smile to my face.

Then my manager came over and decided to ruin it all. “Y/N, I’m going to need you to stay later today. Elizabeth called in sick.”

“I can’t I have plans.” Do I actually have plans? No, nothing besides a nice early dinner and cuddling with my Caregivers. But she didn’t need to know that.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to cancel them. You’re the only one here so you’re going to cover it.” And with that she walked away.

Suddenly I felt the weight of the day layered on again. I became overwhelmed with emotions I wasn’t allowed to have at the moment. I took my break and went into the restroom to pull myself together.

Frustrated tears fell from my eyes but I couldn’t break down now, not yet. I would have time for this when I got home. I just needed a minute and then I could go back out there and deal with everyone once again.

~~~

Morgan could see Y/N’s headlights going up the driveway before he heard the car door slam shut.

“Hotch, she’s home.” He called out to him, before the front door opened.

The moment Y/N entered the house, Morgan and Hotch immediately looked over. Morgan sat by the television and Hotch had popped out of kitchen. But immediately they could both see that something was wrong.

“Princess? You alright?” Morgan right away asked. His usual smile replaced with a worried look.

Y/N didn’t say a word. She just dropped her bags and started crying. Morgan jumped from the couch and quickly made his way over to her.

“Hey, hey, hey, what happened? What’s going on?” Morgan lifted the sad Little into his arms.

Y/N didn’t say a word, she just grabbed Morgan’s shirt like her life depended on it and cried. Hotch crossed the house, joining Morgan and Y/N at the door.

The two Caregivers shared a worried look. “What happened sweetheart?” Hotch tried to ask but still Y/N didn’t say a word. She just buried her head against Morgan’s chest and continued to sob.

Morgan began walking around the room with the Little in his arms, lighting bouncing and shushing her cries. One arm wraps around her back with his hand cradling her head.

Morgan and Hotch continue to share worried looks to one another as the two Caregivers turn their profiling sides on for a moment.

“She was supposed to be home at 3 right?”

“Yeah but she texted me saying they had to keep her there long.” Hotch replied.

“So a bad day at work?”

“This isn’t just from a bad day at work. This is a build up. We were gone all last week and now the first day of our break she has to work. Mix that with possibly a bad day and…” Hotch trailed on.

“Poor baby,” Morgan coos, “Missing your handsome Caregiver today huh?” He jokes hoping to get anything from his little one, but it doesn’t get a smile. Instead she just rests her head on his shoulder as tears still slip from her eyes.

Thankfully all the walking around bouncing seemed to work, at least a little bit. Y/N was no longer crying but she didn’t seem too happy either.

“There we go, no more tear gorgeous. You’re okay now. We’ve got you.” Morgan sat beside Hotch on the couch, pulling Y/N in his lap.

Hotch leaned over and wiped the remaining tears from her face. “It’s been a long day hasn’t it?” He asked but Y/N just cuddled closer to Morgan instead of answering.

All at once the two realized their baby was feeling a bit non verbal today. It didn’t happen often with Y/N, but when it did they knew she was feeling especially young.

“Not in the mood for talking? That’s okay princess. We’ve got you.” Morgan starts to say.

“How about this? How about we go upstairs and get changed out of these big uncomfortable clothes and into something a bit more comfortable? Squeeze my hand once for yes and twice for no.”

Morgan took her hand in his. After a moment of thinking he set a single squeeze. He looked to Hotch and nodded. “Alright, let’s get you changed.”

He stands and immediately smells something burning. “Aaron…you’re burning dinner again.” Hotch’s face dropped. He jumps up from the couch and runs into the kitchen.

Morgan smirked and shook his head. He carries Y/N upstairs and while chuckling, “It isn’t really a Daddy dinner if he didn’t burn it?” He joked. That got a small smile from Y/N. They were heading in the right direction.

Once in her light pink bedroom, he set her down on her bed and began going through her dresser drawer. “Okay, I think for you tonight we’re going to get you dressed in the absolute softest pajamas. And the absolute softest pajama you have arrrreeeeee these!”

He turned back to the bed to see Y/N sitting patiently with her favorite stuffie Sharky the shark in hand. “Ta-da!” He held up the fluffy pink long sleeve onesie complete with footed feet.

Y/N squeezes their stuffie as they took a moment of consideration. They decided with a simple nod of the head as a yes to Morgan and the footed onesie.

“Great! I thought I picked a good one,” he winked, “Now let’s get you changed for the night.”

Morgan helped Y/N take off their normal work attire and changed into the soft onesie and a pull-up for good measure. “There we are. Now let’s get your hair out of your face.” Morgan moved to get their hair tied and brush when there was a knock to the door.

~~~

Daddy walked in and he had that look on his face. You know, the look that says something’s wrong and he’s not happy about it.

“Derek I need to speak to you for a moment.”

That’s never a good thing.

“Y/N, we’ll be right outside the door okay? Just for a minute.” Dada reiterated.

My two Caregivers left the room and closed the door behind them. Then, once again, I was alone. The terrible feelings start to come back again.

Dada scared them away with his gentle rocking, shushing and jokes. He always knows how to make me feel better when I’m upset. But now my sadness was returning and with it fear. It’s never a good thing when your Caregivers go to talk about something first without you there.

I squeezed my shark stuffie a little tighter as I stared down the bedroom door. Was I in trouble? Was there trouble? My mind started to spiral with ideas.

It sounded like they were arguing, not with each other but about something. Again, that’s never a good thing to hear. My sadness took a backseat for a second as curiosity took the wheel. I hoped off my bed and walked over to the door with the hopes of maybe catching what they were talking about.

“Call them back and tell them we can’t. I mean you see the kind of night she’s having.”

“You don’t think I know that? *sigh* I tried everything, every excuse in the book. Rossi knows us, he knows Y/N. He wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t life or death, you know he wouldn’t.”

“So what are we going to do? She can’t be by herself tonight-“

I backed away from the door as I processed what they’re saying. Uncle Rossi called? That means they were going to the office. They’re leaving me.

The realization brought sadness back to the drivers seat. I walked back over to my bed and crawled under the covers. Maybe it’s better if I’m alone. I don’t want them! I don’t want anyone!

I cried into my shark stuffie as I heard the door open and close again. Then I heard the sound of footsteps over to my bed before I felt someone sit next to me.

“Sweetheart it’s okay. You don’t have to hide it’s just Daddy.” Hotch said as his hand rubbed the top of the blanket.

Okay maybe I was lying when I said I wanted to be alone…because I don’t. I want him to stay!

I peeked my head out from the blanket and was met with Daddy’s worried eyes. He opened his arms to me as a silent invitation, one I happily took. He brought me into his lap and hugged me close. I rested my head on his shoulder as tears fell from my eyes.

“There’s my sweet girl. Now, there’s something we need to talk about.”

The last scared me, and all at once I started crying some more as I shook my head no. I don’t want to hear the bad news.

“It’s okay, you didn’t hear it yet. It’s not a bad thing I promise. It’s just…a change of plans.” Hotch sighed as he began to rub my back to calm me down, “You see, Uncle Rossi called me and he really needs Dada and I to go to the office and work on something. Now normal I would rather you stay home and stay far away from the office. But I can see you really need Dada and I tonight so…you’re going to come to the office with us.”

My sniffles here and there stopped for a moment as I process what he was saying. I would come into the office with them?

I lifted my head off his shoulder and looked at him confused. I would go to his office, like this? And he was okay with it? I mean, his team knows about my regress. One of them even regresses too. Spencer and I are best friends because of it. But everyone else at the FBI doesn’t know.

I guess Daddy could see my confusing because he explained on. “It would only be us, just our team. It’s too late for everyone else to be at the office anyway. Just Aunt JJ, Aunt Emily, Aunt Penelope, Uncle Rossi and Spencer. No one else.”

That put my worries at ease, but it didn’t answer million other questions running through my mind. Before I really understood what was happening, he stood up and made his way over to the dresser.

He paused seeing my hair ties and brush sitting on top. Daddy chuckled, “It’s a good thing I stopped Dada before he brushed your hair. Isn’t that right?”

I mean he wasn’t lying. When it came to doing my hair, Hotch is my favorite person…well after Aunt Penelope, JJ and Emily of course. Morgan…he wasn’t the most gentle when it came to brushing my hair. He sat back on the bed and began to brush and tie my hair.

Once satisfied, he went to my closet and grabbed my usual Little to-go bag. He began packing it with the usuals some coloring books, crayons, toys, my pacifier, and a weighted blanket. But speaking of paci…

Immediately when I saw my favorite pacifier I whined and made grabbie hands for it. Daddy immediately held it up for me as if to say “is this want you want?” When I nodded my head yes repeatedly, he walked over and handed it to me.

I immediately popped it in and felt the rush of relief. There’s something about a paci that just melts away the stress. I held Sharkey close and closed my eyes for a moment, soaking in the nice fuzzy feeling before it disappeared.

Daddy walked back over with a little pacifier clip. He wrapped it around and clipped it to my onesie so I wouldn’t lose it.

Dada popped in with a sippy cup on his hand. He handed it to Daddy before he zipped the bag up. I looked over at Dada and notice the new outfit he was wearing. Actually, now that I’m thinking that I notice Daddy was the same way. Out of their usual at home comfy clothes and back into their stupid work clothes.

“All set?” Hotch asked Morgan.

“Yeah I’m all set. Is she all good?”

“She’s all packed up and ready to go.”

Then they both looked back to me. I just squeezed Sharky and looked away. Dada walked over and kneeled down beside me.

“I know the last thing you want to do tonight is go out. But…” he dragged the but on, “Think of this whole thing like an adventure. Going undercover with your Caregivers at the FBI. You’re our Little agent tonight.”

I lifted my head up and met his eyes. That did sound cool the way he was saying it. I put my arms out to him and made grabby hands to be held.

He never needs to be told twice. He smiled, lifting me up into his arms. “Come on baby, let’s start our adventure.”

Dada carried me to the car with Daddy right behind. In Daddy’s arms, my backpack and his brief case in the other. Daddy hoping in the drivers seat while Dada buckled me into my seat. Once he hopped into the passenger seat, we were off.

The ride to the BAU wasn’t long at all, but with the emotionally exhausting day I’ve been having, I kept nodding off the whole drive. I really only woke up when the SUV came to a stop in the underground parking garage.

Daddy came to my side of the car, helping me with my seatbelt before I hoped out. It was weird seeing the parking garage so empty. Usually it would be filled with cars. Now it had our SUV and the others cars inside of it with the rest of the spots empty.

We made our way to the elevator. “Wanna press 15 for me sweetheart?” Hotch asked. I nodded and happily pressed the button. With that the doors close and we start to go up.

Once the doors opened I immediately started to feel shy. It’s very rare that I go out regressed like this, walking around in my onesie, stuffie in my hands and my paci in my mouth.

But today was a horrible, horrible day. And there was no way I was going to be much older than I am now.

I walk closer to Dada and grab his hand. He holds onto it tightly as I walk sort of hidden behind him.

Once in the bullpen Rossi greeted us. He began briefing Morgan and Hotch on what’s going on. All the big words fly over my head as I stay hidden against Dada’s side.

After a moment he turns and looks at me, “And hello my beautiful niece! How are you doing tonight? Out on a late night adventure?” Rossi smiles.

“She’s not feeling very talkative tonight David.” Hotch explains.

“Aw! That’s no problem. Whatever is most comfortable for my favorite niece in the whole world.” His kindness starts to bring me out of my shell a bit. I turn from Dada’s side to Rossi with a small smile across my face.

“She’s your only niece.” Morgan chuckles.

“Doesn’t make her any less my favorite.” Rossi winks towards me. Again I can’t help but smile.

With my free hand I lift Sharky up to Rossi to see. “Ahh! Well if it isn’t Sharky! He scared me! I thought there was a loose shark in here! You better keep an eye on him Y/N.” He winked.

Rossi looks back up towards Morgan and Hotch and explaining what they needed to do.

Morgan looks to me and squeezes my hand before letting it go, “Alright princess I gotta go do some work. You’re going to go with Daddy, okay? I’ll see you later.”

With a pat to my back and a kiss to the top of my forehead Dada he made a move to leave. But before he could I grabbed his hand again, a whine sounding behind my pacifier.

I could feel Daddy place a hand on my shoulder as Dada turned around and took his hand from me. “I know baby, I know. I promise I’ll be back soon. You stay with Daddy.” He tried to reassure but I shake my head no.

Tears fell from my face as I watched him walk into the middle of the bullpen and take a seat at his desk. I didn’t want this! I want to be home with the two of them!

Daddy picks me up and carried me towards his office, all while rubbing my back and trying to reassure me. Looking over his shoulder I could see the whole team gathering to talk about the case.

Aunt JJ and Emily stand next to Morgan’s desk chatting with him. Not unusual. What is unusual is Spencer. I’ve never seen Spencer outside of our headspaces before. Whenever we hang out he’s regressed with me. So seeing him working and being his usual adult self was an odd shock to my system.

But soon we were in Daddy’s office with the door shutting behind him. All at once the overwhelming office became less overwhelmed with just the two of us together.

He sat his briefcase down on his desk before crossing the office and taking a seat with me on his office couch. “It’s okay. I know, it’s a long day isn’t it? And it keeps getting longer. But I’m here and Dada’s just a few feet away. We’re here.”

Daddy spends a moment reassuring and comforting me. Once my tears stop falling he coaxes me to start to color at his coffee table. “Alright, Daddy’s got to go do some work and while I do why don’t you color a picture for Dada and I? If you need anything you just come over and I’ll help you.”

With a kiss to my forehead, he picked me up and placed me on the couch. He grabs my coloring book, my crayons and my sippy cup and places them all infront of me before he heads to his desk to work.

For a little while I try not to bother him as he types away on his computer and makes phone call after phone call. But after a picture or two I get a bit antsy. I want to be by him or Dada! Not at this stupid coffee table!

So, grabbing Sharky and my weighted blanket, I make my way over to Daddy at his desk. I round the desk and pull on his sleeve.

~~~

Hotch, who can’t even remember his name at the moment with the amount of work he has, snaps out of his fog when he feels a small tug on his sleeve.

Then a small smile creeps across his face as he sees the tired Little standing infront of him, rubbing their eyes with their fist, a yawn or two escaping behind their pacifier.

“Oh, Y/N. What’s the matter sweetheart?” He asks before remembering.

He takes a moment to look them over before asking, “You wanna go to bed sweetheart?” That gets a nod. “Okay, give me a second and I’ll get the couch set up for you.”

But before he even turns back to his computer, Y/N whiles and shakes her head no. That seemed to upset her.

Hotch turns to her once again, this time confused. She wants to sleep, but not on the couch. “What’s the matter honey?” He asked concerned.

Y/N, with tired tears in her eyes, reach out to him with her stuffie and blanket in her arms. Ohhhhhhh. Finally it kicks in.

“You wanna snuggle honey? Okay. Come here, let’s bundle you up first.” Y/N holds onto her shark as Hotch leans forward and wraps her weighted blanket around her. Then he picked her up like a little burrito and sits her on his lap. Her head rest comfortably against his chest as he wraps his arms around her.

“There you go. Comfy?” He asks getting a small nod in agreement. “Alright, you go to sleep. Daddy will be right here to protect you.” Hotch adds with a kiss to her forehead for good measure.

Hotch continues on working with Y/N peacefully sleeping in his arms. Her head pressed again his chest listening to his heart beat, her paci still in her mouth and her shark stuffie held tightly inside her blankie. She’s the most relaxed she had been all day.

An hour flew by before Hotch received a knock at his door. Garcia popped her head in to ask Hotch a question but that quickly flew out the window as she got a look at how adorable Y/N was.

“Oh my gosh!!! Look at her!!” She whispered, practically dying at the sight of Y/N peacefully sleep in Hotch’s arms.

Garcia couldn’t help herself and alerted everyone to the cute sight. Soon everyone was taking a break from their work to pop into Hotch’s office and see Y/N. They all cooed and awed at the adorable Little who only cuddled closer to her Caregiver.

Morgan smirks and rolls his eyes plays fully, “Hey! When is it my turn?”

“Your chances of being president of the FBI are better than you getting Y/N from my arms.” Hotch jokes back. Now that he had the sweet sleeping Little in his arms, he was not letting her go.