#His ears are naturally droopy..

[winterarmyy]

Welcome Home... Soldat? | Part III

That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.

Navigation: Part I || Part II* || Part III (end) || Extra

Words: 5.2k++ (sorry y'all)

Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, fluffy stuff, tiny sprinkle of angst, soldat is heartbreakingly adorable until the very end, bucky not being very communicative, self-loathing, confusion, conflicted feelings between guilt and need, two idiots in love who are lost in a miscommunication, excessive use of the word 'fuck', and... what else? I'm not sure either lol.

P/S: This has been truly a journey. Thank you so much for the support y'all have been giving me. I really do appreciate all the comments and dms about my work regardless which one of them. Just wanna remind you that I won't be here without you; that's the degree of importance that you possess. Anyway, enjoy your reading.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

It's only been eight in the morning and the soldat had Y/N trapped between his arms as she focused on sifting the flour for the pancake batter. There were barely any space between them; not when he made sure that her soft plushy butt rests right against his crotch, while his fingers subtly move along her hips.

Those gentle trailings didn't last too long for comfort as he slipped his left hand under her sweatshirt. The soldat let his instinct took control as the metal of his touch draws invisible circles all across her bare stomach, while his lips peppered endless amount of butterfly kisses on the marks from last night; each one was now hidden under layers of color correcter and concealer.

"Wow." A raw sound of astonisment naturally slipped from Sam's lips as he found himself frozen in his spot at the corridor leading to the entrance of the kitchen.

Look at them. Acting like newlyweds on their honeymoon.

For a moment he forgot that the huge cuddly hunk in front of him was the winter soldier and not his fellow comrade.

But then again, it might as well made sense that it was not the Bucky he knew, because that man would've been a puddle of mess if he got the chance to touch Y/N like this.

Sam still remember that night when they had a Harry Potter movie marathon and Y/N ended up falling asleep on Bucky's shoulder. Even in the room that was scarce from light, Sam could clearly see the redness on Bucky's cheeks and ears.

It was an understatement to say that Sam had the best time of his life teasing the shit out of Bucky that night, knowing he can't do anything about it without waking Y/N from her comfy slumber.

"Soldat, please. I need to move around, you know?" Y/N's amused giggle pulled the soldat from his dreamy trance.

He shakes his head in the crook of her neck, snuggling deeper as he took a deep breath of her sweet scent,  "No, you don't. You just need to stay here." The soldat huffed as he pouted and tighten his hold on her.

Y/N chuckled at his child-like antics, "You do know that you're not gonna get any breakfast any time soon if you keep doing this, right?"

Sometimes, she couldn't help but wondered if this is how it would feel like to have Bucky doting on her.

"Родная (darling), I'll gladly have you for breakfast. I'm sure I'd have a feast on that sweet little pussy of yours." He whispered seductively into her ears, as he sensed Sam's presence approaching the kitchen. 

Y/N briefly fluttered her eyes shut as he purred in her ears, before slightly peel herself off from him, "Soldat." Her voice was stern and her eyes narrowed into a frown.

The soldat gaze down at her with a hazy grin on his lips, "Родная (darling)."

Unknowingly, the one-sided glaring battle began when Y/N refused to break their intense eye contact; each opponent uses a very contrasting approach, where one has a deep frown and a pair of blazing eyes while the other has the softest, droopy stare and literal hearts in his steel blues.

"Move." Y/N instructed as if it was a warning.

The brunnette let out a defeated laugh as he loosen his hold on her, "Okay, okay. Anything for you, sweet one."

"Thank you." She sighed. "Finally" she thought. She was worried that they gonna have breakfast for lunch if he refuses to let her go.

On the other hand, the soldat was unable to sit still on his own, so he continue to follow her around, like a hungry cat rubbing their forehead up their human's leg, mewling for attention.

"Morning, y/n and... her shadow." Sam finally make himself known as he greeted while naturally went to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"Good morning, Sam." she greeted back while the soldat swiftly put himself in between them like a barrier. He shot a menancing glare at Sam as the man was standing 'too close to Y/N' for the soldat's comfort.

Obviously offended, "Dude, calm down. I was just greeting her good morning." His voice raised as he defended himself for his rights, "Tell him y/n" he continued to tattle tail.

In which Y/N responded by patting the back of the soldat's shoulder as a reassurance before asking him to move away.

Let's just say that he begrudgingly agreed to just because it was Y/N's request.

"Unbeliveable." Sam rolled his eyes, "This your friend?" He asked as Steve entered the scene, greeting everyone a good morning before he quirked, "What?"

"Look at him." Sam accusingly pointed as the soldat, "He's hogging y/n." He continued to explain while purposely reach his hand to touch her. The soldat wordlessly pulled her away before he could reach any further, "See?" Sam pointed again.

Steve didn't defend anyone this time as he only laughed it off before finding his seat. His eyes sparkled with delight to the amount of pancake made by Y/N and the multiple choice of topping and sides; from the sickening sweet stuff to the oddly savoury ones.

He glanced over at his best friend, who was unsubtly trying to hog Y/N away from Sam and his baby blues soften as he thought maybe Shuri was right. Maybe Bucky was always present somewhere in this soldat's persona.

It was such a typical Bucky behaviour to be possessive as the soldat was being. Steve noticed that Bucky would always get a bit agitated when someone touch his girl, even if he doesn't actively show it as much. In the 40's he might've been able to hide it behind his charming smile and witty jokes, but nowdays anyone can see it on his ever-present frown and unintelligible grunts.

That applies for both Bucky and the soldat.

Y/N rolled her eyes at Sam as she pulled the soldat by the hand, "Ignore him, soldat. Now, come have breakfast with me." She sat him on one of the stool by the kitchen isle as she prepared his plate.

Perplexed by the lack response, Sam admitted his defeat for once and joined the isle to have his bite of the morning.

As soon as she settled on her own seat next to him, the soldat took her hand into his, briefly kissing her the back of it. "Thank you, darling."  He whispered before placing their locked hands on his lap as they ate, casually rubbing his thumb on her for comfort.

If you thought Y/N was the only one who was blushing at the domestic show of affection, well you'd think again when you see the shade of red on the tip of his ears or the way Sam purposely looked away.

The morning went by with mostly three of them having a pleasant conversation and the soldat silently distract himself by playing with her hand, apparently enthralled by the size difference and how fragile looking hers was.

Meanwhile, the rest of the team came by the kitchen on their own time since some of them prefer to sleep off the pain from the previous mission.

Half an hour later, she felt as if she was caught in a dejavu when she found herself in the same position as before. She laughed softly as she washed dishes, while the soldat stuck himself to her like a oversize koala to a tiny tree.

"I smell pancakes." Tony spoke as he made a bee line towards the kitchen, looking like he just survived a bio hazard in the lab.

"I made extra. Help yourself." Y/N announced, not even trying to look back at them, especially when the soldat had her trapped in his tight embrace.

Tony peeked to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of Y/N, "Did you see her? I didn't even know she was here until she spoke." He asked, though he sounded more like he was teasing her.

Before Tony could reach out for his plate, Shuri stormed to the kitchen, catching everyone's attention, "Pancakes can wait, Tony." She stopped him which only cause him to whine dramatically.

It felt as if Y/N's heart completely dropped out of her body when Shuri nodded knowingly, "It's time."

There was a quick briefing of the process with everyone involved while they prep the soldat in the other side of the glassed section of the lab. Y/N tried to focus on watching the simple simulation video that was prepared by Tony.

And she heard every single words of Shuri's but all she could think was if the soldat knew what they were doing. If he felt like he was being thrown, being disposed of like some kind of object.

By the time they the explanation ended, Y/N didn't think twice as she marched towards the soldat. The team didn't questioned her motive as they can see the determination in her eyes. 

She stopped on her tracks, right at the entrance when a thought ran across her mind.

Of course, she wanted Bucky back but why does this feel so wrong?

"How are you feeling, soldat?" She prompted as she walked over to him, passing the lab employee who scurried away leaving the couple to have some privacy.

The soldat brightened in her presence as he reached out to her with grabby hands, triggering a soft giggle from Y/N. She let her hands gravitate towards his, intertwining her fingers in his hold as he replied, "Much better now." He sighed in contentment the moment he felt her skin against his own.

There was a comforting silence in the room, but Y/N's mind was the complete opposite. There was only chaos of questions that felt so sinful and immoral to utter out loud.

The soldat grip tightens with tenderness, as if he could hear the loud havoc in her head. Moments later, he decided to break the silence with an honest confession.

"I know that I'm not welcomed here."  He glanced at the other side of the glass, watching the team pacing around. "I know that you're trying to get rid of me." His ocean blues changed its tides to gaze up at her; the smile on his lips was soft and pure.

"You know, I have been many things in this life..." the soldat looked down where his hands were entangled with hers, "...a killer, a weapon, a monster, you name it." there was a hint of grudge in his voice but mostly it was woven with regret.

"But, worst of all, I have been a thief." It felt as if he has been holding his breath as he avowed.

"I have stolen decades worth of his life, robbed him of his freedom for so many years, every single happiness and hope he could ever experienced had been stripped away right before his eyes," the soldat chuckled ironically before looking up to meet her teary eyes, "...yet I'm still greedy for more days with you."

Y/N found herself unable to speak, afraid that her words would do nothing to coax him; or maybe she just couldn't trust that her voice won't crack in the middle of her sentence especially when she was damn sure that her heart was already cracking for him.

The soldat's eyes softens when he reached his hand to her face, "I never knew that I was capable to feel these futile emotions such as joy and love, until I felt it when he looks at you." Y/N didn't even notice she was crying until he wiped them away with the gentle caresses of his thumb.

"Everything I felt towards you were his to begin with." He confessed as he felt the guilt of stealing yet another precious thing from him again, "That's why, I don't deserve this." The said as he recalled every moment he got to spend with her, "I don't deserve you."

The soldat knows that very well, but that didn't stop the natural curiosity that resides from within him, "And I can't help but to wonder..." he hesitated as he tried to construct the most raw and truthful question to sum up whatever this emotion he was currently feeling.

"Will you remember me?" His voice was small and quiet, almost afraid of the answer that might come his way.

More tears were spilling out as she unhesitantly replied, "How could I not?" Her hands raised to his face, cupping his scruffy cheeks in her palms.

The soldat's eyes sightly wobbled when he asked again, "Will you miss me?" At that time, he didn't know that the feeling he felt was called 'heartache', yet he was handling it like he had been experiencing it all his life.

Y/N leaned as she pressed the most tender kiss on his forehead, "More than you know." Her answer made the soldat smile as he purred in her hold.

He peeled one away from his face and pressed a kiss of his own on the delicate palm of her hand. The same ones that had showed him nothing but so much love and kindness.

When Shuri came into the scene, they know it was time to say goodbye. But, both refused to say anything remotely close to it. So, they wordlessly walked out towards the cylinder shaped glass pod, located right in the middle of the lab.

Until the very end, Y/N stood by his side as he lay on the tight space of the pod. And just as the door was about the close, the soldat smiled lovingly at his precious person, as he called for her nickname one last time.

"So long, Родная (darling)."

Three weeks later. At Avenger's private gym.

Steve re-adjusted his stance as he took cautious step backwards, "Why are you avoiding her?" He asked straightforwardly.

Bucky huffed a heavy breath as he lunged forward for a strike, "What are you talking about?" He missed when Steve easily swerved away and countered back, "Don't play dumb, Buck. I'm not in a mood for that."

The brunette blocked his punch with his left forearm but Steve uses that as an opportunity to grab him and pushed him on the floor. Bucky groaned as he landed flat on his chest, left hand on his back.

"Well, I'm not in a mood to talk about it either." He growled as he swing his leg backwards, toppling Steve on his back and pushed his metal arm against his neck, choking him out of his breath, "So, drop it." He warned.

Steve tapped the floor as a sign of defeat and Bucky released his hold while retreat his arm away. Both of them was out of breath but for entirely different reason; Steve was literally choked, so that's fair, but Bucky was breathing heavily as soon as Y/N stepped into the gym.

He stood there with an intense frown on his face, glaring at the woman of his dreams. Literal dreams, or memories of the soldat that was left behind for Bucky after what happened with the winter soldier situation.

Thankfully the method worked, Shuri and Tony managed to bring Bucky back but just like before, he don't have any clear recollection what happened.

While Y/N made the team swore to never speak to Bucky about what he did when he relapsed, while Bucky himself also hides the fact that, much like his previous experience where the memories comes in a form of unsightly nightmares, his memories of those few days were also coming back in a form of dreams.

Though they were never linear. There was no way of knowing the actual flow of his memories.

It came more like snippets of certain moments, sometimes repetitive, sometimes glitchy but they were mostly such good dreams, beautiful even, however they didn't last very long.

At least, not according to Bucky.

Y/N stopped on her tracks as she saw Bucky, who blatantly throwing daggers at her through his eyes. She didn't know why but she didn't want to think of the worst, so she went towards him in hopes of proving her own mind that the negative instincts that she had was wrong.

But the moment she got close, "Hi Buck--" Bucky walked passed her as if she wasn't there in the first place. And she had to admit that, that shit was painful to go through.

And he had been acting like this for two weeks now. Avoiding her like a fucking plague. And she doesn't know why.

He was acting normal during the first week of his awakening, or maybe a little bit more reserved that he usually would be.

She doesn't know how else to explain it but he seemed to act really shy whenever Y/N accidently touched him.

Did someone told him about what happened? Is that why he's mad? She doesn't get it, and she wants to know why.

So before Bucky managed to walk further pass her, Y/N turned on her heels and tugged him by his right arm to stop him. Little did she knew, that might just be the one thing she shouldn't do.

It was like a pre-programmed reaction, when Bucky's body move on his own, as he harshly ripped himself from her grasps, almost dropping her to the ground.

Steve was second away from reaching out to catch her but luckily she found her balance back on her own.

Bucky leered down at her as he spoke, "Don't touch me." His voice came out much more venomous than he intended, making Y/N flinched to his command.

But if that what he needs to do to chase her away from him then so be it, "Just stay the fuck away from me." Bucky spat a cold warning before marching his way out.

Not only leaving Y/N in utter confusion, but with her heart torn to bled dry.

"No... soldat." She whimpered in his ears as his finger drew slow circles on her clit, his mouth latched on her shoulder.

Salty tears started to blur her vision when she sniffled them back.

"Look at you. Look how well you're taking me. My darling is such a good girl, isn't she?" The soldat sounds sickeningly sweet when he murmured in her ears.

"Don't." she whispered quietly.

"p-please soldat, ahh." She mewled, scratching the metal of his arm. 

"That's it darling, cum for your soldat. give it to me,, aahhh" He motioned, forming an 'O' with his mouth as she clamp down on his fingers; with his wide eyes looking down at her exposed pussy.

Bucky's eyes snapped open, ripping him out of the distorted memories only to leave him gasping in the darkness. He woke up swimming in his bed, drowning in the flood of sheets with his heart pounding as if it was desperate to tear out of his chest.

He looked around suspiciously as if he didn't recognized his own room, until strain of his crotch distracted him. His eyes pried downwards to see his cock struggling to fit in his pants and the images of his lucid dream flashes again.

Bucky shuts his eyes tightly, hoping the torture would stop reminding him of his sins, "You sick fuck." A deep frown formed as he muttered curses to himself.

After hours and hours of free falling tears in her room, letting herself drown in a sorrow that she never knew she would ever experience, she let herself wonder back to those lovely moments of her with the soldat.

She found it ironic that somehow the memories of his touch was also the cure to the wounds left by cruelty of his words.

It's hours passed midnight and her tears finally stopped, at least until her body was able physically form more tears in her glands, she took the time as a chance for her to rest.

Y/N laid on her back, letting the remaining tears to fall into her ears.

Worst part of all of this was not knowing why, and being left in the dark, yet he managed to effortlessly left her heart broken into shatters.

"Don't touch me."

"Just stay the fuck away from me."

Bucky's words had been circling her mind like a raging tornado. It felt like the spitefulness of his voice was mocking the flaws of her fragmented heart, toying with what's left behind after the storm.

Y/N didn't even realized when did she started to make her way towards the kitchen, but it was as if her body knew its own limit when her feet walked her out of the confinement of her room and her mind remind her to hydrate herself.

As she entered the kitchen area, she wasn't expecting to see Bucky standing in the middle of it, leaning forward towards the counter tops.

Even with the little source of light from the corridor, Y/N could see the tiredness in his face as he stare blankly into nothing. But, his expression soon changed when he saw her.

She didn't know what she had done to make him so agitated whenever he laid his eyes on her.

The silence between them was so loud that Y/N couldn't help but to approach him.

"I..." She truly didn't know what to say but it felt like it was her fault. She did take advantage of him when the soldat took over; endless use of his body, hands, lips and not to mention what happened that night. "I'm sorry."

Bucky was truly appalled to her words, even though he didn't show it on his expression. Why does she had to apologize to him when he was clearly the problem, "Why are you apologizing?" his anger naturally slipped through as he spoke.

But Y/N didn't know that he was frustrated at himself, and not at her, so the tone that he used stung her as much as it did prior, "I don't know." She simply said.

Lies.

She knew exactly why apologized but she wasn't sure if Bucky knew what happened when he blacked-out. "I just... I don't want to stay away from you. I don't like it."

She can't; not when her yearning for him had grew stronger than ever before.

"Well, you better get used to it because it won't change any time soon." Bucky spat harshly.

Y/N felt her own rage started to bubble from within.

Why is he being so hot-headed and stubborn like a sulking child? Can't he just act like a fucking adult and talk it out?

Her brows crunched into a frown as she held back her tone, "Why?"

Bucky let out a frustrated as he tried to walk away, shooting a demanding glare as he was passing her, "Just do as you're told, y/n"

"Oh no, you're not gonna run away from this."

She grabbed him by his arms and pulled him back into the conversation. "That's not fair, Bucky."

"Not fair?" His eyes narrowed, as he looked down at the smaller.

She puffed out an angry breath as she glared up, "No, it is not fair! It's not entirely your choice to make." She can feel the flames started to spread, "Especially when you refused to tell me why." She yelled accusingly as she shoved her finger to his chest.

Blood roaring in Bucky's ears as his heart pounded hard, pouring the concealed frustration out like a broken dam as he explodes, "He almost raped you, y/n!!"

There was a few milliseconds of non-movements as both them let those few words sink into their processing brain, "I... almost raped you." His voice shook in both anguish and anger, leaving Y/N frozen in a speechless shock.

"Or maybe I already did and I don't even fucking remember." His hands roughly tugged his long hair back as if he tried to go through the pieces of shattered memories in his wrecked mind.

"And if that is not a fucking sign for you stay away from me, I don't know what else I should do to make you see that." Bucky was breathing heavily that his breaths echoed through the silenced space.

Y/N's mind was running wild as everything slowly clicked. Did he thought that he... No. She blinked several times before she could form actual words, "Bucky, what are you saying? It's okay, it's okay. Just please calm down first and--" she tried to reach for him but that only made Bucky retorted, physically and mentally.

"It's okay? No, it's fucking not. Are you even listening to yourself? Can't you see? I'm dangerous y/n." He sounded as desperate as he was for air. "Especially to you. And if my messed up past was not enough to prove it, then what happened between us when I relapsed certainly did."

His heart rate increase rapidly, and his lungs seemed to work double time. Yet, he refused to let her see how badly he needed comfort.

"Bucky, please breathe. And just.. listen to me--" Y/N was hopeless trying to pull him out of the chaos of his mind but he just wouldn't listen.

Bucky's voice started to waver as the dark revelation continued to cloud him, "He assault you, y/n. I fucking assault you. And I can't let that happened again. So, just please, stay awa--"

"It was my choice!" Y/N snapped as she grabbed Bucky by his shoulder, forcing him to focus on her. "Bucky, I let him touch me. I could stop him if I want to, but I didn't."

Bucky didn't understand, "W-why?"

"Because I know he wouldn't hurt me. You wouldn't hurt me." Y/N tried to lay it out for him slowly but then she realized that maybe he didn't need that right now.

"Fuck, Bucky! I'm not a saint." She cursed after a few short moments of hesitation, "I have a lot of feelings I need to deal with like every other human being. Lust, love, you name it. And he..."

In a brief moment, she thought of the soldat, "He gave me the opportunity to feel the love that I always wanted from you. He showed me what we could've been." There was a sense of longing in her eyes, "It started small, soft touches and loving kisses." She smiled to the memories of it.

"And the moment that I thought that it could've been you who's kissing me, touching me. I knew it was over." She didn't know how many times she almost slipped out his name whenever she calls for the soldat; the name 'Bucky' was always at the tip of her tongue but never out.

"One thing led to another and we... I didn't mean to let it stray too far." She confessed, "Bucky, I admit it was wrong for me to take advatange of you, of the soldat, and I know there's no excuse to my behaviour than my own inability to control my feelings for you."

If the soldat thought that he was being greedy, then that makes the two of them.

"I understand if you want me to stay away from you, but just let me say this out loud." Her hands slid down to find his, thankfully he didn't repulsed this time, "Bucky... I love you." She finally spilled the truth as her soften gaze trained on his eyes, "I have loved you for a long time."

Afraid that this could be the end, she refused to look away. She didn't care if Bucky would plunge daggers to her through his words, she want him to know that her feelings for him was unconditional.

And Bucky really tried his best to let all her words sink in, even though most of them were somehow redacted and lost in his head.

But, thankfully the most important ones was so loud and clear for him to draw a simple conclusion that would ease his relentless worries, "You...I.. I didn't force it on you?"

Y/N didn't know why she wasn't expecting him to believe her but she was glad that he did, "No" she replied simply.

Bucky's voice strangled while his hand gripping tighter in her hold, "I didn't hurt you?" His teary eyes pleaded for the truth.

"Not a even close." She smiled kindly.

Bucky felt as the unbearable burden on his shoulders was lifted off completely just by those few simple words that Y/N just uttered. The tears he was desperately holding back broke freely as they stream down his face, his shoulders trembled with the force of his emotions running through his veins.

He whispered, "You don't hate me for it?" He pulled her hands closer to his face, fluttering his eyes shut as he kissed the knuckles of her fingers.

"Never." Y/N reassured, as she cupped his face; stroking her thumbs on his scruffy cheeks, wiping the warm, salty tears away.

Bucky sighed to her touch, it seemed that his body remembered her more than his mind did, "And you love me?" He blinked as he placed his hand on top of her.

Y/N nodded with a loving curve on her lips, "Always have."

Bucky didn't know how she does it but she really did managed to mend and melt his heart all at the same time. It was magic. Or, maybe it was sorcery. But even if she ended up leaving a curse behind, Bucky would still be glad that he let her bewitched him.

Bucky stared down at her, admiring her the kindness in her eyes despite the swolleness of them. He felt bad for breaking her heart, making her cry. It tore his heart just thinking about it.

His tongue darted out for a brief second as his metal hand fell, wrapping around her body.

Y/N maintained to lock her eyes on his as her hand slid down, and pressed on his chest. Despite being comfortable with his touches, and with the amount of kisses the soldat had generously gave her, she shouldn't be nervous anymore but she was.

After all, the soldat never kisses her on the lips and Bucky had his eyes on hers since the beginning.

She wanted his too.

Seeing the anticipation in her eyes, Bucky leaned in to press a kiss on her lips, his flesh hand came up to tilt her chin up, then gently cupped her face as he pulled her closer.

Her lips was so soft against his, that Bucky was sure that he will crave to this every single day.

He briefly pulled away from the kiss to whisper a soft, "I love you too, y/n." Before coming down for another chaste, "More than you could ever fucking imagine." He almost growled as he dipped for more.

Their innocent kiss soon turned into something deeper. They kissed passionately, lost in the bubble of time and space, ignoring the silenced ambiance as they were fixated on the sound of their beating hearts.

And when they pulled away for air, Y/N giggled as a silly thought went through her mind, "Well, I kinda see the glimpse of it in those few days with the soldat, so I think I got the gist of it."

That caused Bucky to let out a genuinely hearty laugh before humming playfully, "Hmm, do you now?" He went in for another kiss, knowing full well that he was already addicted to the taste of her lips.

He just can't get enough of it.

Y/N answered briefly in between his kisses, "Yes."

Bucky smirked as he smoothly guided her backwards, until the back of her waist met with the cold tile of the kitchen isle, "Three times, was it?" his eyes glint with mischieve when he leaned again to steal another kiss.

"What is?" Y/N titled her head to the side, unknowingly giving access for Bucky to lead his kisses from her soft cheek down to her exposed neck.

His lips trailed along the crook of it as he whispered, "Was it three times that he made you cum?" If his goal was to seduce her; well it was safe to say that he did it rather flawlessly.

Y/N thanked god that the kitchen was dim-litted, because the redness on her cheek was rather embarrassing, "I-I'm not sure."

She lied. But, Bucky didn't need to know that.

Bucky chuckled lowly as he murmured, "It's okay, babydoll. We have all the time in the world to beat that record." his naughty hands had already made their way toward her ass before she even have the time to register what he suggested.

Lust decorated the blues in his eyes as he whispered, "Starting now."

End.

<< Part II || Extra >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Yeay, we have reached the end but I might have more of the couple in the future. Though I don't know when will it happen but I have hopes for it. Meanwhile, why don't you tell me what you think of the series and checkout my other work!

[classicalchan]

liar

pairing: bangchan x f! reader

rating: sfw

tags: sharing a bed, just pure softness, cuddling, best friends to lovers, pining, confessions, tired chan

wc: i'm too lazy to count but idk it's probably 2k 😭(I'm definitely wrong)

your doorbell rings when it's close to midnight, its sound reverberating through every corner of your little apartment. your socked feet carry you from bed to the door on autopilot. you weren't sleeping, but you were nearly there.

you open up your front door and off-white light from the hallway spills shamelessly into your dark living space. Chan stands there, bag slung lazily across his shoulder, eyes droopy with sleep.

"they borrowed my place for a party i don't wanna be at," he declares. "I'm sleeping here."

he walks in without waiting for an answer, wrapping you in a quick, one-armed hug for a greeting on his way. his bag finds its place on your couch. he switches a couple of lamps on here and there and fixes a photo frame on his way to your bathroom with a towel and some clothes in hand.

you kind of like how it's so natural for him to be at your place. like he belongs here. like he could live here.

you wished he would.

you lay back in bed, shifting to a side, leaving the rest of the space for Chan. ever since you first cuddled up with him a few months ago, it became an unspoken rule between you to always sleep cuddled up when alone.

it was one of the best parts of your friendship with him. you could abandon every care in the world when he was around and just be. He was always there- gentle, warm, protective, kind. everything you wished for in a man.

everything you can't have.

it had been weeks since you had gone to bed without thinking of him. even in the face of extreme exhaustion and no contact, Chan never failed to slip into your thoughts. he needed to compensate you for all the nights you couldn't sleep just because he did something adorable during the day and you wouldn't stop thinking about it.

he needed to apologize for every time you accidentally called one of your friends by his name, just because he wouldn't leave your head.

and he needed to desperately make up for nights like these. nights when he would touch you and let you touch him, but never enough. there was always a weighted, invisible boundary you hated with all your guts. a burning line you couldn't cross.

so, over the days, you had learned to make peace with what you got, no matter how little. you had learned to make the most of his arms around you, the firmness of his torso pressed to your back, the warmth of his breathing behind your ear, his occasional sleepy rambling.

sometimes he said your name.

before you knew it, the mattress dips beside you, the familiar scent of Chan's shampoo filling up your senses. you came alive a little.

his arm slips across your middle, pulling you as close as humanly possible into the abyss that was his warmth. you could spend an eternity here without a syllable of protest falling from your lips.

“i don’t have a shirt on, is that okay?” he mumbles into your hair.

more than okay, you wanted to say but for the sake of the friendship you had spent years building, you resorted to a small hum. he usually slept barely clothed, but when with you, he always asked. he made sure never to cross any lines. he was cautious, reserved. too far.

“is everything okay?” you ask. “you usually do not turn down a chance to party.”

you feel him move behind you, long fingers fiddling with the thin fabric of your t-shirt. he yawns like a puppy.

“i’d had a busy day,” he begins. “i needed some sleep and you know how bad i am at getting to sleep alone...”

his knuckle accidentally brushes your navel. you shiver.

“…besides you weren’t there. i’ve missed having you around y/n, now that i see it.”

your skin flushes hot, lips involuntarily swelling into a smile. you turn your face into your pillow, determined to bury your happiness into the fluff.

“i’ve missed you too,” you confess.

his blunt nails graze against your flesh again, and you wonder how much of it was accidental anymore. could Chan tell? did he know how down bad you were for him?

“liar,” he whispers, squeezing your body lightly into his own.

he liked to do that, you had noticed. almost as if finding a way to inch closer, as if making up for the fact that there would always be some molecular distance between you no matter what.

or maybe you were just reading too much into it.

you place a hand over his own, fingertips drawing subtle lines into his pale skin, tracing the veins you stared at shamelessly in broad daylight.

“you really think i’d lie to you?”

“you wouldn’t?” he asks.

you turned around, facing him. your hand settles on his bare chest. you could feel his heart beat beneath your touch.

“no,” you confirm. “never.”

he smiles, his hair getting into his eyes as he puts his forehead against yours.

“okayyy,” he giggles. “tell me something then, since you claim to not lie.”

your heart picks up pace, hammering beneath your chest, and you were half afraid Chan might hear it. you swallow thickly, a small lump forming in your throat.

“yeah?”

his gaze wraps over you like a veil, clouding everything else just enough that he is all you can see.

"do you like me?" he whispers.

the question drops in your heart and sinks into your gut. you've been caught, red-handed. but you were so careful, so vigilant, looking but never for too long, complimenting him but being careful not to flirt, telling him you love him when he needed to hear it but taking care to conceal the love you felt.

you want to play it cool. you're scared of how it's going to go.

"duh," you say. "of course i like you, why else would we be friends?"

he clicks his tongue, a soft laugh escaping his lips. he drops a light kiss on your forehead and you sigh.

"you're not that naive," he states. "come on, I'll wait for you."

you feel your cheeks heat up. it gets harder by the second to stay still, not with chan's fingers rubbing warmth into your back, his face so close you could steal a kiss. he was no fool. he never had been. who did you think you were hiding from?

"i..." you begin, your mouth drying up. "yeah."

you feel his marble fingers slip under your chin. pressure, soft but commanding, forced you to look at him.

"you what, sweetheart?"

the endearment sent you spiraling. you squeeze his muscled shoulder, fingers digging into flesh.

"don't be an ass," you say. "i'm not gonna say it."

he chuckles. you watch his gaze move across your face, settle on your lips, and then back to your eyes again. you didn't want to think ahead of yourself.

you didn't want to break your heart.

he leaned in, his arm circling around your waist, his mouth leaving a soft kiss to your temple. you could die like this and it wouldn't be so bad.

"please," he whispers. "you said you'd be honest."

and who were you to turn down chan with his gentle voice and sturdy hands and body warmth and huge heart and ---? you could go on forever.

you grind your teeth together unconsciously, draw in a deep breath, and sigh. he knows you're giving in.

"i do like you," you admit finally. "so much more than a friend."

his palm slides up your back and finds your hair, long fingers gripping them and pulling you in. he smiles when he kisses you- mouth tasting of cinnamon and longing and want.

"fucking finally," he breathes. "you've got no idea how long i've waited for this."

you melt into a caramel puddle in his hands. you lean in again, pressing your lips onto his like he'd disappear, like this is all you've got.

taglist: @tinysoftie

NAVIGATION

join the taglist <3

[oncomingnight]

ೄྀ࿐DO YOU ENJOY WHAT YOU DO?

yandere! 80's male pop duo x reader

Dimitris and Seth have been the best of friends since they were young school boys. The two of them would regularly perform little 'concerts' in the others garage, practically torturing the neighbors with the shrilling noise of sticks hitting tin cans. The only thing they ever wanted to truly accomplish in life was to be able to make music with each other. As they grew older and experimented with their sound, their harmonious and incredibly danceable music immediately sky rocketed in terms of success. Fans were constantly fainting and waving their arms around when they attended one of their concerts, it was a common occurrence for at least five undergarments to be thrown onto stage during a show of theirs.

They each had their own unique look that attracted dozens of people. Seth had his tanned skin, dark brown fluffed out hair with a caramel colored streak going right through it, the beauty mark right under his eye, his droopy brown eyes and the gold hoops hanging from his ears. Dimitris had his short silky black hair, umber skin that became dewy under the sun, his thick Tunisian accent, the dimples that appeared on his face even at the slightest hint of a grin and his naturally heavy lashes.

The both of them will join forces in writing and producing music based on their intense love and devotion towards you. Several of the songs would be accompanied with hyper beats and catchy ad libs, others would be paired with voices filled with desperation and pure agony along with an emotion rendition of their piano. The second option perfectly depicts their never-ending affection towards you, they love you so much that they're willing to cause terror to anyone who opposes their behaviour.

Even if they were to potentially be caught for their rage-filled actions, nothing would ever come from it. Everyone would suspect that some 'rando' trying to make for themselves planted the evidence against Dimitris and Seth. The two of them are loved internationally by the young and old, they're the most likely to be deemed as honest and trust-worthy than some random people accusing them of actions that they would never commit.

"Even if they did actually do all that, maybe those creeps deserved it." "Yeah, they're total barf bags."

Neither of them fit the stereotypical '80's rockstar' persona because they didn't necessarily write rock'n'roll music but that was how their music was categorized at times, and, they don't have sex with random women, or more so, groupies. Neither do they write songs with hidden racist meanings as some of the other people in the same career path as them do.

The both of them absolutely believe that you deserve nothing but the best, they do everything in their will power to prove this to you, as well. They go all out when it comes to certain holidays, birthdays and anniversaries. On the day of your birthday, you'll wake up to the house filled to the brim with roses in vases, gifts sent by highly regarded celebrities along with fashion and makeup brands, notes that the two men wrote in admiration for you, a scheduled party at a nearby chateau and immediate tenderness from the both of them as soon as they see you stir awake.

Dimitris and Seth take immense joy in spoiling you with everything and anything you could ever want. With the way the two of them present themselves to the world, it's no surprise to anyone when they find out that the both of them enjoy dolling you up.

and they do an amazing job at it.

Seth will match your shoes to the chosen dress he'd purchased just for you at an antique market, applying your choice of powdered make-up to your face, clasping a diamond necklace around your neck and kissing your lips when he's finally finished. Then, when the cold night finally arrives, he'll wipe and wash your face, massage your scalp along with your body as the two of you sit in a warm bath he'd drawn. After washing your face with a light blue 'Pré de Provence' soap bar, he'll gently pat your cheeks, lean in to kiss your forehead before saying,

"My beautiful baby, aren't you just perfect? Say it, tell me you're perfect."

Dimitris adores taking you out to taste several different sweet and savory meals that you aren't even able to pronounce. As the two of you sit in a dimly lit restaurant, paparazzi are taking photographs of him looking at you with a severely love-drunk facial expression. A magazine with the headline, "Dimitris and his shared lover, newly head over heels fool!"

You always tag along with them when they go on tour, no matter what, you're going! If you don't work from home and your schedule is the issue, they'll just bribe your boss with some harmless money

just kidding! They don't want you working outside of your shared five bedroom home in Hollywood, California. They'll never hold you hostage in your own home, are you...crazy? They honestly don't want to even think about you struggling with money and there's nothing more that they'd love to do than take care of you.

Seth will take you to meet his father on the sea-side villa he grew up in. The pleasant aroma of bamia and feteer meshaltet fill your nostrils and the thought of eating the prepped dishes makes you smile. His father offers up a warm and welcoming smile as he listens to you speak about your interests and what had drawn you to his son. He immediately finds your presence calming and wishes for you to visit him once more alongside his son. Even his father's dog, Neo, seems to like you as he sits on your lap whilst you're on the couch and speaking with Seth.

[pettypiastri]

gentle hands find tender hearts — lando norris

lando norris x fem!reader summary - day 1 of testing leaves Lando sore and seeking comfort word count - 2.2k warnings - language, allusions to reader insecurity, otherwise none! note - first piece for f1, please be nice! basically just idiots in love but they're not in denial and are already dating. blame Lando's yt channel for the brainrot and info i've loosely based this on. drop by the inbox, would love to discuss all your thoughts about your fave vroom vroom boys (anons are on) 🤍 feedback always appreciated!

Seeing the green verification light flash on the hotel room card reader might be the best thing Lando’s seen all day. Decidedly the best thing he’s seen since leaving you, a vision in his shirt, behind in the crisply air conditioned room, a sleepy smile on your face after he pressed a final kiss to your forehead. Which, notably, he’d only managed to find after a two-handed effort to sort through your messy hair swathing your face and neck. He’d traded all that in for the Bahrain humidity that’s somehow made itself a home in the aching in his head and the weight he still feels bearing on his neck. Seeing you now, just as pretty as this morning, he’s certain a ‘meh’ day 1 of pre-season testing did not make up for what he’d left behind at 6:45. Not even close.

You’re perched on the king sized bed, white hotel bedding bleached beyond identity, with a book in your hand and Lando wants to cry. Or maybe huff frustratedly. At the very least kiss you immediately. The smile you give Lando upon seeing his head of deflated curls peek around the wall, the one you always give him that reaches your eyes and consumes his soul, has his shoulders sagging. More than 100 laps and hours of data threaten to finally crush him as he drags himself toward you, items falling from his hands in time with his steps. Bucket hat, wallet, key card until it's just him, drained and pouty, eager to demand your comfort. Blindly you dog ear your page, cataloging his schlumpy movements. 

“What’s wrong gorgeous?” 

A resounding ‘oomph’ leaves your chest as your boyfriend falls against your frame. Strong hands reach under your hoodie seeking soft skin. Even though Lando’s been in the heat all day, it’s nothing like the toe curling, soul unfurling warmth you can provide. These days, he always seems to feel a chill in his chest when you’re not around. 

“Shit day,” he grumbles, fabric sticking to his parted lips as he snuggles against your chest. Overwhelming fondness makes your heart ache, a playful quip is briefly delayed. As a distraction, your hands gravitate to mirror his, wrapping around his broad shoulders and back. One comb of your fingers through his mangy curls has them frizzing up, tendrils reaching out to tickle your nose. 

“Oh, s’that all?” A sharp pinch between your ribs in retaliation has you tightening your grip in Lando’s hair. Your free flowing giggle encourages Lando to elaborate, his traitorous smile hidden against fabric. 

“ ‘M sore. Back, neck… pride.” On instinct, your hand in his hair dips to the natural resting place on the back of his neck. A pensive hum settles on his ears.

“Hmm… Well, suppose you’re lucky you’ve got a girlfriend then.” 

A truly minimal effort grumble of confusion is all you get in response. Lando, tired and grumpy, never fails to make you smile. It’s why, with great effort, you wiggle down the bed with him still on top of you, crumpling pillows and pulling up the bottom sheet in your wake, so you can be nose to nose with him. His beautiful baby blues, with a streak of exhaustion, a fleck of frustration, and a halo of tenderness, crack open to regard you. Droopy lids are held open by a combative fondness that overpowers the weight of unmet expectations. You kiss him languidly, a need to rush nowhere to be found. Despite your initiation, you part your lips easily for him letting him control the moment how he wants. Lando always kisses you like it's his last chance, in a way that makes you feel it from your stomach down to your toes. Sometimes you find yourself crossing your fingers that you make him feel the same. 

Upon breaking apart you coax him gently, “Lay on your stomach for me? Let me take care of you.”

And Lando resigns to let you. Happily. Defenselessly. Completely. Because you always take care of him. After Sochi, after Carlos left, whenever he loses sight of himself. Your unyielding arms are always ajar for him to crash into.

Lando proves to be absolutely no help as you try to shimmy his hoodie off him, his face pressed into one of four available pillows, arms curled above his head. Your level of struggle makes you giggle, then laugh from your chest, a whine of his name mixed in. Half a cheeky smile is visible from Lando as he peeks an eye open to regard you. He lifts one arm begrudgingly and then the other, allowing you to successfully free his torso.

Gently you lay the hoodie to your side and scan his lean back. You watch his shoulders flex as he shifts again to get fully comfortable, the dimples in his lower back popping in and out. His golden skin, a tan you watched bloom over a long offseason, calls for your careful touch. 

One of your thighs raises to straddle the backs of his, finding a comfortable position atop his legs. As if in anticipation of your tenderness, an adorable sigh whistles out through Lando’s nose. Moving just by instinct, your careful hands start at the small of his back, digging in just enough with your thumbs to coax the tension out. Briefly you wonder if the tiny hiss Lando lets out is one of appreciation or if hours in the air conditioned hotel room have left your extremities just on the wrong side of chilly. You’re reassured when a more full chested sigh escapes your boyfriend upon your hands reaching the apex of his shoulders in one long motion of your hands. The look of contentment is already beginning to set in on Lando’s striking face as you continue carefully in fluid, albeit improvised, movements. 

There is a stillness in the room that welcomes the almost inaudible efforts of your hands pushing into his muscles and grants permission for your mind to wander. A dull hum from the air conditioning unit aims to harmonize with Lando’s consistent sighs. On instinct you itch to trace a pattern between his birthmarks, taking a moment to appreciate even the smallest parts of him. 

As now warmed fingers detour from their ritualistic path up his back, you stop at one mole, marveling that it looks the exact same shade of brown as the coffee was on your second date. A cup of which had steamed up between your eyes as you glanced sheepishly over the porcelain rim at him, hoping he couldn’t see you staring. The waitress had led with ‘how cute a couple the two of you make’ before informing you it was closing time. Lando had not corrected her. Instead he’d offered you his jacket before walking you home. You’d kissed him before you even made it to your street. The tableau, illuminated by a dusty streetlamp, saw you pushing him back with a hand on his chest when you realized you wouldn’t be able to stop if you carried on a second longer. Lando had found it sickeningly endearing. 

Another birthmark on your course upwards is a bit lighter, more oval, something like the dirt track he had taken you to watch rallying at with his siblings last winter. You’d shared lip gloss with one of his sisters and been asked for advice on the boy problems of the other. Lando’s brother Oliver realized he didn't even have to ask how serious things were when he’d caught Lando staring at you when he thought no one was watching. Oliver had leant over to ask him a question, only to find Lando didn’t even know who the race leader was as he’d practically not taken his eyes off you. You, just existing. Eager eyes darting around attentively at the flurries of dirt before you, your hand on Lando’s wrist, spinning the bracelet his Nan gifted him with absentminded ease. Later he’d watched Lando take about 30 photos of you as you wandered the merch booths and food stands, all of which you were none the wiser to and Oliver knew you never would be. 

The birthmark just at the base of his neck is the one you noticed peeking out from his t-shirt late one warm night in Monaco. When your eyes yearned to fix on something stable. Something safe. Lando’s hand had reached back for yours as he lead you through the Monaco streets. You’d linked your pinky with his, too shy to feel the warmth of his whole hand in yours. He’d driven the two of you around in his Jolly, for once abiding by the speed postings; he was in no rush with you. You recall being envious of the wind ruffling his hair, wishing it was you instead. The hand he placed on your exposed thigh had you looking the opposite direction to hide your glowing cheeks.

Slowly, so as not to startle him, you scooch to sit over the center of Lando’s back, bringing his strong neck into an accessible range. Your thumbs dig into the sides, freestyling a way to massage such a random part of the body in such desperate need of TLC. His curls that you’ve worshiped, pulled on, and braided for the past years are welcomed into the special treatment with your fingers sliding against his scalp before beginning at the base of his neck again.

Lando had looked at you sideways when you’d once commented on his strong neck being one of your favorite features of his. Refusal to elaborate was betrayed by your full body flush and flitting eyes as he leaned over you, hands settling on the arms of the chair you were sat in. That was just last month; he still makes you nervous. 

Nervous in the way that makes your breath catch and your palms clam up. Nervousness akin more to anticipation than anything else; woven with glee and eagerness. Something like you feel right now, realizing you haven’t kissed him in 15 minutes and your hands are starting to cramp. Leaning down, you press a peck to his exposed cheek, Lando’s cologne filling your nose. For someone you thought was asleep, his eye cracks open the instant your lips part from his skin. 

Lando regards you for just a moment before, with much difficulty given his current position and slight delirium, moving to wrangle you so you’re lying down chest to chest with him. One of his arms drapes over your neck, hand planted behind your head, creating a little bubble made just for your heads. Something unrupturable and uninterrupted where he can stare at you without needing a reason.

The eyes you’re met with are droopy, full of contentment, and overflowing with affection. It’s a look that you used to think you’d never receive from someone else. But Lando’s never been afraid to be loud with his love. It took some time, some proof of dedication from him that the beaming smile and honest eyes were not a fluke, for you to bloom. Now when you’re with him, you don’t care who’s looking. You love who you are in his company, how unafraid to occupy space you become. It draws you to place your hand on his stubbled cheek (that you will not stop teasing him about) and stroke your thumb slowly over his skin. On instinct Lando nuzzles closer, so eager to be doted on by you. His lips find yours in an intimate kiss. 

“Thank you baby,” he murmurs, words meant just for you, so soft they would’ve been mistaken for a flicker of the moonlight had you not been paying attention. 

You assume he means for the massage. He assumes you know it’s for everything else: all the support and love and devotion you show him. It’s bliss with you. Lando had gotten over trying to fight against the never-ending spiral of longing, lust, and love in every moment, word, and movement with you, a long time ago. Now he welcomes drowning in your smile and voice and touch. He yearns for the overwhelming clench in his chest and weightlessness of his body. He’s given himself over completely to you in hopes of his demise at the sight of your warm eyes and the way you say his name.

Lando finds his heart squeezing again just from looking at you, curled against him in a random Hilton somewhere in the Middle East. The only remedy, the only distraction is to kiss you again, gently but full of meaning. It makes you blush, afire under his adoring gaze, feeling so safe but exposed, heart bared fully to him. 

In the sacred hush of your hotel room you scoot just a fraction until your nose skims his, eyes fluttering closed. Upturned lips brush against yours involuntarily. 

A deep exhale leaves Lando’s nose, tickling the peach fuzz of your upper lip. It conveys total peace and comfort. It says somehow, this is all he needs. This is how life looks for him when his mind wanders to years his senior. Maybe there’s more noise around your little bubble, more feet, decidedly smaller than the both of yours, leaving prints on your hearts. But you and him together like this? It’s constant, transcendent of location or hardship or outside noise. You and him together like this, with 'I love you's' as the night's lullaby, is not just enough, it’s everything.

[minimujina]

you make me so nervous !

sᴛᴀʀʀɪɴɢ. heizou, albedo, wanderer/scaramouche x f!reader

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. reader has a dendro vision, and when you get flustered or injured your powers go crazy :0

ᴄᴡ. sickeningly sweet fluff, wanderer is given a name, wanderer’s is a bit different than the other two so specific warnings are right before his, ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS!1!

heizou had never met someone so easy to read in all his days of observing people.

the mere presence of the detective seemed to fluster you impossibly—and your dendro vision would react in accordance, much to your dismay.

take the time that you decided to go for a mid-morning walk—something you didn’t usually do. you were looking for easy ways to change things up, bored of the stagnancy that so often came with a rigid schedule.

upon seeing you, the detective was surprised, since he knew that you were usually in your garden at this time of day. he shrugged it off, though, approaching you eagerly. and i’m not saying that he had the intention of frightening you, but that’s exactly what i’m saying.

“my dear sweetflower!” heizou exclaimed, startling you with an obnoxious poke on the shoulder. sweetflower was an endearing nickname he’d come up with when he first met you. “what brings you here at this fine hour?”

mischief and arrogance seemed to just seep from his voice. but still, he was a good friend to you, and a good person. just a bit of a bastard.

you gave a loud yelp and a flinch—he had to steady you with his arms amidst good-natured laughter to keep you from smacking him.

after you’d calmed down and he stopped laughing, heizou noticed something peculiar and novel: flowers had begun to bloom in your hair. by the time heizou had released you from his grasp, the mess atop your head had become more than abundant with clusters of posies.

you were none the wiser, since you were too busy trying to sort out your muddled thoughts—but heizou brought the issue to your attention with a silvery hum and a grin, reaching behind your ear to pluck a single leaf from its vine.

“did i scare you that much, dear?” the detective’s voice was teasing, but kind, and his smile more than reached the marks under his eyes. he was clearly amused at this predicament of yours.

the next time, however, had nothing to do with you being startled. you simply took notice of heizou in the distance—and the next thing you knew, flowers were sprouting up like weeds all around you. the detective hadn’t spotted you, though, so you bunched up as many of the fresh sumeru roses and sweetflowers in your little arms as you could, scurrying away in a panic.

ever since then, this problem persisted relentlessly. you’d learned to control it more with time, but every chance encounter with the detective spelled your inevitable embarrassment—at least one plant would spring up somewhere in the vicinity, and more often than not it would be in your own hair. heizou honestly wasn’t sure what to make of it—he might have been good at discerning motives and teasing out evidence, but for the life of him, he couldn’t unravel your seemingly complex feelings about him.

it was the beginning of the end when the detective stumbled upon a peculiar path of flowers and droopy vines. it was painfully obvious that they did not belong there among the sakura, and heizou had a feeling that he knew just who the culprit was.

after following the trail for no more than a few minutes, he was confronted with an amusing sight—you, sprawled on the ground, snarled in the sheer abundance of plants that seemed to have tripped you. he wondered what you’d been running from that made you so afraid.

heizou flashed you a smug smile, but he leaned over to lend a hand anyways. and yet, more flowers sprouted to shroud you from his view, as if tucking you away. but the glimpse of fear he’d seen in your eyes was enough for him to finally come to a conclusion—it was him you had been running from.

but.. you weren’t scared of him. this he knew.

you liked him.

oh, what an ego boost this was for shikanoin heizou.

he sighed, almost dreamily. “oh, my little sweetflower, you can come out now—i know about your little crush on me, so there’s no need to keep running away.”

when you made no move to emerge, heizou smiled to himself. of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

“love,” he mused, “what i’m saying is that i—“

suddenly, heizou’s throat tightened. it came out of nowhere; he was so confident when he started, and this went so smoothly in his head. so why did his tongue suddenly feel so heavy? why did his chest burn the way it did?

it took the detective a moment to collect himself—he found it difficult to quell the sudden thought that maybe he liked you even more than he realized.

deep breaths, detective.

“what i mean to say is..”

another deep breath, heizou.

“i find you rather.. endearing.”

he cleared his throat, unconsciously stuffing his hands in his pockets. oh, if only he could see himself—he was being so obvious that even an amateur could see right through him.

“well, that is—i like you.”

he hadn’t meant to say it so plainly, but it seemed that his words, however hesitant they were, gave you the push of courage you needed.

the flowers parted ever so slightly to reveal your eyes again, less terror-filled, though still quite shaken.

but what was most surprising was the detective’s expression—you caught it for only a split second, but it was there. his eyes were blown wide, as if he were incredulous with himself. but a whimsical grin that could fool anyone quickly replaced all evidence of that uneasiness.

“…really?” you whispered, voice thinned and small, as if you’d swallowed your confidence.

a baffling, earnest sincerity crept into heizou’s expression—of all the times he’d been able to conceal his true feelings, this was not one of them.

“really.” his response was firm, his gaze softer than it had ever been.

“and..” you took a deep breath, looking anywhere but at the detective. “…you aren’t bothered by the whole…flower thing?”

heizou laughed mirthfully—“why would i be?”

under the cover of your plants, you fiddled with the petals of a sumeru rose as you spoke. “i don’t know.. it’s just embarrassing, is all. i thought it was overbearing.”

“oh, dear,” heizou tutted. “was it blatantly obvious? yes, yes it was”—your expression turned sheepish—“but overbearing? you? never.”

heizou reached out to part the sea of plants away from your face so that he could properly see you, letting one hand linger to lift your chin. “ah, there’s my lovely girl,” he grinned. “now, let’s get you out of here, shall we?”

and with that, your shaky little hand emerged to place itself in heizou’s steady palm, and he pulled you up, watching as the leaves and florets spilled all around your form like water.

and for once, heizou had nothing to say. all he could think about was the feeling of your small hand in his own, and how beautiful you looked in that moment. if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were the long-departed goddess of flowers herself.

heizou very promptly decided that he could not tolerate the way his heart was acting. no, no, no, it was simply out of character. you were the one who was supposed to be flustered—not shikanoin heizou, the tenryou commission’s top detective, a young and brilliant genius whom nothing could unnerve.

the detective tugged you forward suddenly, fastening his hands around your waist as he stooped down—but he froze just before he reached your lips. he seemed to study you, admiring the brightness in your eyes, the dancing reflection of sunlight.

“wanna make out?” he asked out of the blue, a shit-eating grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

what you wanted was to slap him for his god-awful sense of humor.

but also yes, you did want to make out.

you decided to make this very clear by grabbing a fistful of his shirt and just making the move yourself for once. from the way he smiled into your lips, your intuition told you that he liked your spontaneous impatience.

when albedo discovered that his own presence regularly caused your vision to malfunction, his curiosity surrounding you became insatiable.

he would hum, stepping around you in a measured circle while he observed the various flowers that had sprouted from your vision. a thick vine had found itself stuck to the surface of your vision, almost as if it were trapped in the glass, not fully emerged. it trailed all the way to the ground of albedo’s workshop, branching off into more vines with sweet flowers, roses, and all sorts of pretty blossoms.

“how peculiar,” the alchemist murmured. “i’ve never seen anything quite like this before.”

yeah, me neither, you wanted to mumble and grouch, but you settled for a subtle pout instead.

albedo hummed thoughtfully again before completing a full circle around you, coming to face you eye-to-eye. you could see the mischief in his gaze, and your tummy fluttered with nervous anticipation—one could never know what the chalk prince would do next.

“i wonder… could we possibly encourage the vine to grow more? perhaps then it wouldn’t be stuck—which, again, is fascinating in itself.”

albedo was staring at you so intensely that you couldn’t make yourself meet his gaze. he continued nonetheless, “i’ve really never heard of someone’s powers emerging straight from the vision and manifesting that way. you are very curious—very curious indeed.”

seeing your blank expression and watery eyes, albedo decided to continue with his procedures in a more considerate fashion. he understood that you probably felt scrutinized, but he didn’t mean it that way, truly. he was filled with genuine curiosity about this predicament—though perhaps he did have an ulterior motive hidden somewhere.. but who’s to say?

“let’s go ahead and see if we can make it grow, then, shall we?” oh, there was so much mischief in his voice, and you did not like it one bit, nor did you like the way your stomach buzzed.

albedo suddenly leaned down very close to the side of your face—close enough that you could hear his gentle breathing and feel it fan across your blushy cheek.

“would this suffice to do the trick?” he asked lowly; you spotted his subtle grin out of the corner of your eye.

and sure enough, the floor all near ruptured with greenery, so many flowers poking up through the cracks of the dirt that it almost looked like a garden in the middle of this dry, frigid mountain.

“oh, my,” albedo chuckled, his mirthful gaze burning your face. “that did the trick indeed.”

you stepped back out of shame, though your flustered expression failed to escape him—nothing could ever fool those sharp eyes of his.

how endearing, he thought, amused at the manner in which your feet shifted and the way your cheeks bloomed a shade much darker than before.

hoping to quell your fears, albedo leaned down to pluck a single flower from its stem—a cecilia, native to mondstadt, yet fabricated by your own hand. he approached you to carefully tuck it behind your ear, his hand lingering for but a moment to brush your cheek.

another cecilia popped up from the ground, right next to albedo’s feet—your hands flew up to cover your face.

this prompted a warm chuckle from the alchemist. your anxiety subsided a bit at his comforting, familiar laughter.

his hand remained near your cheek, thumb just barely ghosting the skin; it was as though you were made of a delicate porcelain he was afraid to crack. and yet, oh, and yet, the way he was looking at you was so piercing that you thought you may fall apart at the seams. those eyes of his drilled holes into your face, but their gaze still held so much affection—how could he possibly analyze you with that cold calculation and still make you feel so warm inside?

“it’s still stuck in the vision,” he murmured without breaking eye contact, his even and composed voice dragging you out of a daydream; it took you a moment to realize he was talking about the plant. although.. his hand was still cupping your cheek. your heart thumped in your ears like a rabbit’s foot to the ground—why was he still touching you? this wasn’t like the distant, calculated albedo you were certain you knew… though it’s not like you minded.

the alchemist took a step forward with one foot, slow and careful. the other followed suit, bringing him ever closer, so that now you could feel his breath against your cheek again. it was a stark contrast to the frigid atmosphere, and a shiver racked through your body at his touch. and that was when you realized just how close he was—so close that your noses almost brushed; so close that he was craning his neck to meet your gaze; so close that you almost thought he might…

..well, albedo just couldn’t help himself, could he? archons, he knew he was supposed to be trying to fix the problem with your vision, but this entire experiment was his own self-indulgence at this point. but he would not be doing it if he didn’t already know that you were quite taken with him—your vision going haywire when he got close to you gave albedo all the evidence he needed to come to the conclusion that you were smitten.

and so, when the alchemist placed his other hand on your jaw, holding your face with that steadiness and carefulness you knew he possessed, more flowers sprung up around your feet. but neither of you cared.

“this should fix it, yeah?” albedo mumbled, and before you could even process what he had said, he was swooping down to capture your lips in a kiss.

it was gentle yet fervent, brief yet fulfilling. your whole body felt warm and fluttery, so when he pulled away, you found yourself leaning forward and standing on your tippy toes as if to beg him not to—but he did, just so that he could see the expression on your face: flushed, sheepish, happy, perplexed. he was satisfied knowing that his own affections were very obviously returned.

before you knew it, his lips were crashing into yours again, just a bit more eager this time. you had no idea the great albedo was capable of such a feat as this—you’d never even entertained the thought of him reciprocating your feelings. it was just out of the question to you, until now.

albedo’s lips were slightly cracked from the cold, but there was nothing unpleasant about it. he held your face so gently and rubbed his gloved thumbs over your skin so tenderly that you didn’t know what to do with yourself, but he took the liberty of grabbing your hands and placing them on his chest. you could feel his breathing, feel the air fill and vacate his lungs, feel how he shuddered when a sudden wind invaded the workshop.

the chilled air did not help your flustered state, for your knees had already buckled more than once, and albedo’s hold on you was the only thing keeping you standing. for now, though, his lips remained on yours, and plants continued growing in his workshop until there was literally no space to walk.

albedo didn’t mind. the vision had fixed itself due to your excitement, allowing the vine to mature properly. though not to mention…a few other plants had joined in on the process.

but he loved this. he loved the view, he loved your presence, and he loved how beautiful you looked when he pulled away: eyes shining, lips a bit swollen, cheeks rosy. the fact that he could no longer move in his workshop didn’t matter so long as you were here.

he was going to paint you like this when he got the chance, he decided—and there would be no lack of flowers to reference, that’s for sure.

ᴛᴡ. ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS!1!!!1!1!! FROM HERE ON OUT !!1! ……… mentions of the reader being injured, not specified from where (nothing too descriptive); flowers grow from the reader’s wounds (again, not too descriptive); slight angst but it is immediately fluffified and everything else is good :] auntie buer basically assigned him a babysitter and thats you ehehyeyegeh

the wanderer had gone by many names in his lifetime, names that engendered fear into his enemies and allies alike.

though, had he ever really had an ally after the losses he had perceived as betrayals? in reality, scaramouche held everyone at arms length no matter what, never allowing anyone close enough to see, much less touch, the fragile shards of his psyche.

but you—an insignificant little woman, his appointed caretaker—you had given him a name.

it was unlike any of the other titles he’d been assigned. rather, this time, it wasn’t even so much that you had assigned it to him, but that it had been set aside for him—like you had let him step into it on his own, try it on for size, and decide if it suited him.

it’s a name that was reserved for him by someone kind. someone with good intention. someone who reminded him too much of the ones he had lost.

you called him junpei. pure. genuine.

the wanderer found it amusing how ironic your choice was. but upon seeing your eager grin, he could not bring himself to reject the name.

junpei.

was that how you saw him? or was it what you wanted him to be?

“junpei, would you help me with this?” sure, he would—did he have a choice, anyways?

“jun, have you eaten?” no. food was not a necessity to him, as he was a puppet. but you would make him eat regardless.

“you look tired, jun, did you sleep alright?” no. he did not sleep alright. but he felt a bit better after hearing those words come out of your mouth, truth be told.

after hearing the name (and its subsequent nicknames) on your lips day after day, it began to feel less strange. in fact, he even started to like the way it rolled off your tongue so easily.

and he liked the way you cared for him.

why did you do it?

he didn’t know. he couldn’t even begin to guess why you took on the task of watching after him. he knew how much a piece of work he was.

it turned out that you just genuinely believed in new beginnings and second chances for everyone—and to you, the wanderer, junpei, was no exception.

he was not aware, but the reason you named him junpei was because of the first time he fell asleep in your presence. his face—it was so quiet. his expression was subdued. he had become gentle.

if it was possible for him to look so peaceful in his sleep, then you were confident that he was made up of something much milder on the inside—something tender, something soft, something placid that he had carefully tucked and folded away, hidden from the prying eyes of anyone who would ever try to hurt him again.

but you did not want to hurt him. you wanted to show him beautiful things, wonderful things—things that require that benign temperament to appreciate. and if you had to give him the stars and the moon to make him open up, to make him show you that small, humane fragment of himself, then so be it. you weren’t going anywhere.

he never truly began to trust you until your own insecurities and weaknesses were exposed.

it was beyond the wanderer how someone so seemingly innocent and sheltered could be littered with so many wounds—so many wounds, and so many scars.

but then, under that short cape you never removed, there were the flowers.

pretty flowers that grew from your arms, that sprouted from the ugly gashes like beautiful weeds, that made you feel ashamed and gross. lovely flowers that were not so lovely to you. flowers that illustrated your pain. flowers that only served to make your skin crawl and remind you of what you had suffered.

it astounded the wanderer when you admitted that you had never shared this with anyone else, had never taken your cape off in the presence of another. this was a secret, something special, a sign of your trust and dedication to staying by his side. even if this was your job, he realized in that moment that this had never been just a job to you. you were there for him.

but.. still, he had his suspicions that you only wanted to “fix” him. so it wasn’t until he’d witnessed your composed display crack, fissure, and boil over that the wanderer began to trust you completely.

“jun,” you cried. it was such a helpless, pathetic sight—or, that’s what scaramouche would have thought. but junpei found himself rushing to your side, something inside his chest pounding wildly against the ribs caging it. a feeling of desperation began to claw its way out of his stomach when he saw your tears.

and the flowers. they crowded your arms, one of your thighs. were they lovely, or were they horrendous? he could not decide.

there was one tiny flower on your cheekbone. a small, yellow daisy, poised there as if your face had been its home all along.

the wanderer spat curses under his breath. “you idiot.. you stupid, stupid human..” his breathing became erratic as a violent panic overwhelmed him.

“what did you do?”

his voice was painful and strained. quiet. but most of all, it was angry.

you couldn’t give him a proper response, only shaking your head as more tears spilled from your eyes. and at this, a hole formed itself in the wanderer’s gut.

that old fear. that feeling. that horrible, dreadful, terrifying feeling.

suddenly, he was kunikuzushi again, watching the people he loved abandon him. break their promises to him.

you promised. you promised him.

but hadn’t they all?

what could a promise even mean anymore if it could be so easily broken?

you could see the gears turning in his mind, the rage that you hadn’t witnessed in so long shifting and blazing behind his eyes. and you knew you had to say something.

“i’m not going to die, you know,” you muttered, using what little strength you had to give him a watery smile. “i’m only crying like a little bitch because it hurts, okay, jun?”

his expression immediately shifted, as if the anger had been doused by a bucket of water—but it wasn’t relief you saw. it was sadness.

“i promised you, didn’t i?” you whispered, noticing how his face contorted into something distraught. slowly, painfully, you extended your pinkie from your arm’s limp place on the ground, and though it took him a moment to consider, the wanderer linked his fifth finger with yours.

“you did,” he replied, his voice no more than a whisper. then, humorlessly, he smiled, all color drained from his face. “so you better not break it.”

“is that a threat, my dear wanderer?”

he couldn’t fight the genuine upturn of his lips—you always chose the most inappropriate times to make an attempt at comedy. the wanderer shook his head, gently pinching your unwounded cheek while he chastised you with something like affection in his voice.

from then on, junpei tended to you as if curating a garden, as if you were a little flower he had planted and helped grow all along. not once would he allow you to put yourself in danger—and if you tried, he would flick your forehead and make you sit in the tent in time-out. but if you really pushed him, really, he could get genuinely angry with you, but only because he cared for you. the worst he’d ever do was raise his voice at you, and even then, you could hear in his tone how worried he was under the aggression.

at some point, you realized that junpei had only become this caring since the day he witnessed you so vulnerable. it was as if he had not allowed himself to trust you completely until he was certain that you needed him, too.

you couldn’t blame him for it—you were glad to know that he no longer viewed vulnerability as a weakness. it was a sign that he was healing and finding comfort in something other than the despair he’d harbored for so long.

“juunyyy,” you sang from your tent, where you had been forcibly stowed away under a nest of blankets and shoved into junpei’s suzukake (outer robe). you were sick, and dreadfully so.

when he poked his head through the flap of the tent, the way your face distinctly brightened upon seeing him made the wanderer’s stomach plummet to the floor. granted, you were a bit loopy from the fever, but it’s not the first time you’d looked at him like that. he felt himself falling in love with you all over again every time he saw you—now in particular, since you were bundled up in his jacket looking so awfully adorable.

“what is it?” he asked, trying with all he had to conceal the fondness in his voice with a scowl. your coy smile hinted at his unfortunate failure.

“i have something for you,” you whispered giddily, even though nobody else was around, and there was nothing you’d said that even remotely suggested you needed to whisper.

junpei sighed, entering the tent with an air of indifference despite how his chest fluttered. your childish grin was really making it hard for him to keep up the act, though.

and when you placed a flower crown on his head, taking the time to smooth down his dark, inky hair to make a place for it, junpei thought it was really going to be the end of him.

this is it, he mused. i’ve officially become soft.

what would scaramouche think if he saw himself now?

but.. that didn’t matter, did it? no, no it didn’t. it truly did not matter. he was no longer bound by the person he had been—or rather, the puppet. the heartless balladeer. scaramouche.

maybe you’d seen this in him all along. maybe you’d always known he would thaw out someday. maybe that was why you had called him junpei.

if that was the case, he suddenly realized that you were smarter than he gave you credit for. perhaps he had judged that dense pea-brain of yours too harshly, no?

..archons, but you were still so stupid at the same time.

he found himself scoffing at the conclusions he’d reached about you—and he had the sudden urge to wipe that goofy little smile off your face.

so he threw all caution to the wind, grabbing your chin, albeit a little rougher than he’d meant to. there was nothing stopping him from kissing you anymore, so he did just that. although he was a bit stiff about it at first.

after a few moments, his rigid posture softened, and he let go of your chin to instead cup your face, a surprising tenderness to his touch—at the same time, you recovered from your shock, becoming lucid enough to wrap your arms around his neck and reciprocate the way he pressed into you.

a few minutes later, the two of you were breathless and rosy-cheeked, and the wanderer’s steady hands held you closer than they ever had before. you remembered when they used to shake and tremble—it warmed you to think just how much you’d seen him grow.

even though you’d both surely had your fill of kisses, he kept leaning in and stealing more small pecks from your lips while you dissolved into laughter. every time a giggle managed to escape you, it was swallowed by a chaste, almost playful, kiss, something you didn’t know your grumpy little wanderer was capable of. more uncontrollable laughter soon followed each time his lips left yours.

the wanderer’s assault of smooches finally stopped when your amusement started to die down. the two of you were left with a tender moment as he held you firmly, closely, his eyes making a silent promise to you that he was the one you could depend upon now. that you didn’t have to babysit him anymore. his loyalty belonged to you.

well, it’s not like you couldn’t infer that from the way he’d just desperately made out with you. but the reassurance was nice!

he rested his head on your shoulder, almost in a defeated manner, as if all that affection had truly exhausted him to the bone. you found that very amusing. and of course, as always, you’d spotted the perfect opportunity to say something that would no doubt ruffle his feathers.

“ . . . you know i’m sick, right? ”

thank you for reading😳

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[boozenboze]

That Fuckin Rat

Tf!141 x Fydor Dostoyevsky M!reader

Summary: It’s hard to believe that Makarov isn’t the main one behind the attacks, and that he had a little friend who had plenty of tricks up his sleeve’s.

Females DNI

Terrorists, we all hate them. Reasons all being obvious. Some were too sneaky, smart, and overall just a pain to society. Makarov was one of them, the man’s name being heard plenty times before. He was smug, extremely condescending, and practically unreadable. It had taken years for military to actually keep up with his antics.

Though of course, there is always someone else helping behind the scenes of someones dirty work. His name wasn’t known, hell there was barely any information on the man at all. What was known, was that he was assisting Makarov with his plans, though his motives were unclear.

______

It was a peaceful day on the streets of Chicago. People going out for a run, getting ready for work, kids going to school. Just usual things that you’d see on a week day. A man was sitting inside, legs crossed as he sat with his hands in his lap. He wore a white button up shirt, white pants, and ushanka hat. A waiter brought some tea to his table, her eyes having been locked on him since he’d walk in.

He was clearly a looker, from his natural facial features to his style. It all looked and gave distinguished gentleman. His eyes were slightly droopy, making him look tired, but the small smile he had on his face sad otherwise.

He nodded at the waiter, silent thanks as he took the cup in his hand, eyes closing. As he took a sip, another woman entered the establishment. She was older, wearing a blue button up shirt with a white jacket. Her dirty blonde hair brought up into a bun giving her a clean, professional look. She sat at a table near the Russian man, setting her computer down and typing something before calling a waiter over.

The man glanced over at the new customer in the establishment, humming before setting his tea back on the table. Due to his hair, the people around him would automatically miss the earpiece he had in his left ear. He spoke very lowly, so his words weren’t audible. Though as soon as he stood up he was met with a hand grabbing his arm, forcing him to sit back down.

His eyes widened, looking over to so a man. He was clearly older, hence the beard and more gruff appearance. His eyes were blue, and he wore a beanie atop his head.

“Excuse me, may I hel-”

“Close your mouth, listen closely.” The man spoke gruffly, hand still gripping the slimmer mans arm. “Your gonna exit out the back door, don’t draw attention to yourself. We don’t need things getting bloody, not here.”

There was a brief moment of silence before the s/c skinned male replied.

“And why would I, comply to such a request… hm?” The male questioned, looking down to see the mans other hand, that wielded a pistol. The h/c haired males facial expression held one of calmness with a mix of annoyance. He shifted his gaze to another table, noticing how a darker skinned male was eyeing him down, he squinted for a moment before looking forward again, sighing. He smiled, chuckling slightly, though there was no humor behind it.

“Ok…lets go.”

—————

Being dragged into the alleyway between two buildings wasn’t part if the plan, but here he was.

“I see you got him.” A woman, the same woman with the dirty blonde hair said as she followed out the door. The darker skinned man spoke up, looking back at her, hand’s keeping the Russian man from trying anything. The e/c eyed male had his head slumped downwards, eyes locked on the concrete beneath him.

“Getting closer our goal aren’t we Laswell.” The dark skinned male said, looking at the woman. He pulled the h/c haired male by the arms, making the males back bump into him with a light thud.

The woman, now identified as Laswell hummed. “This is part of it, though it’s quite obvious that we’d need more than just..” Laswell stopped talking, looking at the h/c haired male who hadn’t said a word since they exited the establishment. Another individual, with a mohawk was glaring at the man now in their custody, as well as another large man who was in the dark corner of the alley.

There wasn’t any struggle to put the man into the vehicle that the 5 peple had arrived in. He was seated in the back seat in the middle, now being trapped between the dark skinned male and the man with the mohawk. The woman sat in the passenger seat, while the older man sat in the drivers seat. The large man with the skull mask, sat in the very back of the vehicle, silent, though his presence was known.

They pulled out of the alleyway, the vehicle now going onto the road. After just listening to the 5 individuals address and converse with one another, it was clear that he’d just been taken by Military. He found it very odd that they found him in such a place at such time. He was always extremely careful when he made arrangements for…shipments, though he supposed anything was possible.

“So…would you mind telling me how you all found me?” The h/c haired male questioned, keeping his haze ahead. There was no response, only the sound of the engine revving being heard. The male scoffed, rolling his eyes before muttering “rude”.

——Timeskip——

Cuffed by the wrists and ankles on a chair in an interrogation room wasn’t something M/n was planning on.

What a pity, fools did all this just to catch little ol’ me? I must say I’m flattered. M/n thought to himself, sly grin creeping onto his face as he threw his head back and chuckled.

“Hello~ anyone there? You’re not the only ones who have plans ya know!~” m/n called out, not getting a response due to him being the only one in the room….Well, not exactly, if you count the cameras that the 141 was watching him from.

————

“So, who wants to give it a try.” Price spoke, his response being silence from the other 3 men. Gaz looked to the side awkwardly, Soap whistling in attempts to seem like he wasn’t listening, and Ghost was standing in the corner of the room, arms crossed. He looked annoyed, possibly because of the current situation. The man’s voice irked him, and not in a good way.

This man had assisted Makarov…only God knows how many times throughout the years, and now he’s here. Something was wrong though. They caught him too easily, and the way he just cooperated didn’t really sit right.

They’ve heard the rumors that had circulated around him, one person describing him to be soulless. Like a vampire, which is one spot on comparison since he looks like one. The look in his eyes had anything but genuine emotion, more malice then anything.

Ghost had seen it all, quite literally during his time on the field. He had no tolerance for slackers and cockiness, and when things needed to get done, they were sure as hell gon done with him. So as he emerged from the darkness of the corner he was in, attention being drawn to him due to the slight ruffling noise of him moving.

“I’ll handle this.” Ghost spoke, voice rough with his Manchester accent being firm. Seems like the lieutenant wants to get this over with as soon as possible, as he left the room. As the door shut behind him, Price smirked and shook his head in amusement.

“Don’t think LT’s gonna blow the guys head off eh?” Soap asked jokingly, not completely forgetting whom they were dealing with.

“Think you mean the other way around.” Gaz replied, looking at the security cameras, seeing the door open to the room their capture was in.

————

M/n looked towards the door, eyebrows raised as he watched Ghost enter the room. His larger figure towering over him in an intimidating manner. Despite this, M/n wasn’t nervous at all. Instead, a cocky grin came upon his features.

“Well this should be interesting.” M/n spoke, tilting his head to the left, hat following in suit as Ghost sat in the chair across from him.

The bigger man crosses his arms, glaring at the man who seemed completely unfazed by his appeal. Ghost was intrigued, sitting back before speaking up.

“Let’s make this quick, you’re working with Makarov and you’ve been supplying him with explosives.” Ghost spoke firmly, voice being the loudest thing in the room besides their breathing.

M/n smirked, looking at Ghost with mischief within his e/c eyes.

“Indeed I have.” M/n spoke, shifting in his chair to sit up straight. “I must say i’m quite impressed that you sll were able to catch me.”

M/n stared right into Ghosts skull, eyes practically stabbing into his entire being. Ghost didn’t falter, reciprocating the stare behind his mask.

“So, do you all plan on keeping me here or-”

“Makarov’s planning an attack somewhere, but we haven’t been able to get a lead on where.” Ghost said, cutting him off quickly. “You work with him, your his supplier, therefore you know where he is.”

Ghost spoke sternly, staring M/n down with a cold and empty look. M/n hummed, chuckling and throwing his head back before looking down into his lap.

“I do, but I have no intention to tell you.” M/n stated, Russian accent making his voice sound oddly mesmerizing. Sexy if anything.

Ghost stared at him, a few minutes of silence going by before he stood up and walked over to M/n. He stood above him, looking down at the restraint man before wrapping his hand around his neck. The s/c skinned male let out a groan, feeling the hand tighten around his neck. He let out an airish chuckle, glaring up at Ghost who glared back.

The male took in a large amount of air when he was released, clearing his throat before speaking up.

“Well that isn’t very polite now isn’t it?” M/n spoke, looking up at Ghost with slightly hooded eyes. “Alright, I’ll tell you what you want.”

M/n rose his hands in defeat, cuffs making a slight clinking sound when he did. Ghost hummed, going back to sit in his chair.

“If you’re gonna talk, do it now.” Ghost said, being completely serious with his words, belligerence underneath his current calm demeanor.

M/n grinned, fixing his position in his chair.

“Makarov is actually planning on attacking close by.” M/n said, looking Ghost in the eye. He didn’t miss how Ghost’s eyes widened, brown irises holding shock.

“You pulling my leg?” Ghost questioned, sitting up. His demeanor changed dramatically, a sense of urgency now in his actions. M/n gave him a blank face, tilting his head before smiling.

“Yeah, besides its not like you’d be able to find him anyway.” M/n said cockily, giving a mischievous smirk. “You soldiers are too easy to get over on, and the only reason you believed me is because I’m hot and have Russian accent.”

Ghost felt like he was seething now, glaring at M/n before standing up.

“Fucking rat.”

Ghost spat before leaving the room. This wasn’t like him, but something about M/n really got under his skin.

A/n: this was lowkey rushed, and I have some editing to do 😅

[cherryredstars]

part 3 of 'The game' with Miguel perhaps? 🫢

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x afab!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Anal Penetrative Sex, Pegging, Anal Fingering, Slight Edging, Subby Miguel

Summary: Is this game over?

A/N: Blame the 48.4% of people who voted for this. So sorry it’s so late, love!

Word Count: 2.2K (Not Edited)

Part 1 Part 2

“Will you ever get tired of this little game?”

You ask him, a snarky smile on your face. The two of you barely stepped through the front door when he was whining against your lips. His hips had pressed into you, his hard on rutting against your pants. I want to play the game he begged, Please play the game with me.

You threw your head back with a smile, fingers tangling into Miguel’s hair as he kissed your neck. He was already so desperate, humping your thigh through his clothing like a pathetic dog. You cooed down at him, tugging on his hair as he whined into your neck. His breathing was heavy, and his hands held your waist. He had you completely pinned to the wall, his body weight preventing you from moving. You gave his hair a harsh tug, forcing his face away from your neck so he could look at your face. His eyes were glassy, his mouth parted as he let out sharp pants. 

“First number?” You asked, looking down your nose at him.

Miguel whined, and you coaxed him to answer you by pressing kisses up the side of his face. You heard the hitching of Miguel’s breath at your kisses, his hips stilling momentarily. “Three.”

You hummed against his skin, continuing your kisses. You eventually reached his ear and you smiled to yourself. You slowly blew against the shell, giving his hair another sharp tug until his face was toward the ceiling. He whimpered against your hold, whining as you kissed and sucked at the shell of his ear. You gave his lobe a tiny nip, chuckling as he bucked his hips. “Second number?”

“Five,” he said instantly, causing you to freeze against him. 

His breaths were the only thing filling the room, and you slowly backed away from him. You let go of his hair, letting his face naturally meet yours. Your fingers massaged his scalp, causing his eyes to get droopy and his body to melt into you. 

“Are you sure, Miggy?” You asked, seriousness in your tone. The sudden shift made Miguel pause for a second, but then he nodded. 

You let out another hum, leaning down to kiss him. Miguel instantly moaned into your mouth, his lips parting for more. Your tongue massages against his, skimming over teeth and the roof of his mouth. It’s hot and heavy, muffling each other’s noises. His hands are desperate as they roam over your body, trying and failing to find a place to land. His clothed cock is rubbing against you again, and you snake your hand down his chest until you’re cupping him. He whines loudly into your mouth, pulling away and rutting into your hand. His breaths are labored, and he’s sloppy with his movements. He’s like a teenager trying to hump his pillow for the first time. Pathetic and desperate. 

With your mouth freed, it finds its place against his ear again. You give it a slow lick, causing a low groan from Miguel. Your breath against the wetness of his ear has him shivering as you instruct him, “Be a good boy and wait for me in the bedroom.”

For a moment, you’re unsure if he’s even listening. His eyes are foggy and he doesn’t stop his rutting. You’re about to repeat yourself before he whines, letting your hands slip away from his body. He looks like a wounded puppy, a small pout on his lips as he looks at you. You almost want to laugh as you grasp his jaw, giving him another kiss that has him perking up. His eyes are dopey as he takes you in for a few more seconds, but eventually he pulls away from you completely and towards the bedroom. You watch him leave, waiting until he closes the bedroom door. 

When it closes, you make your way to the hallway closet, it’s filled with the usual things like cleaning supplies and extra sheets and blankets, but in the corner is a lone box. It’s been sitting in there for a while now, maybe a month. It’s already opened, so you have no trouble lifting the cardboard flaps and being greeted with the main attraction of tonight. It’s a bright red, something that made you laugh when you purchased it. It’s not as long as Miguel is, maybe an inch or two shorter. But it is an inch thicker than he is. Faux veins are molded into the silicone, creating grooves and bumps. It’s slightly tilted upwards, creating a curve meant to make the bulbous tip hit and drag against fleshy walls. The strap is made of comfortable yet sturdy material, made to not irritate the skin. There is even a small bottle of water-based lubricant. 

You carry the box into the bedroom, balancing it in one hand as you turn the doorknob. When you peek inside, Miguel’s clothes are thrown onto the floor in a rush, and he lays on the bed in an antsy mess. His eyes instantly meet yours, and he tracks you as you walk in. His eyes stray to the box, and he watches as you set it down on the bed. You slide it over to him, keeping him distracted as you begin to strip. His eyes fight between watching you or opening the box, but eventually his curiosity wins. His hand opens the flap, and his body tenses as he takes in the strap-on. His cheeks warm the longer he looks at it, but he only looks away when you sit besides him on the bed. You’re completely naked, and Miguel takes the moment to trail his eyes over your body before meeting your eyes. 

“When did you-?” He asks, not finishing his question.

You only smile, shrugging slowly, “A month or so ago.”

Your hands come up to Miguel, massaging his muscles so his body relaxes again. Your smile dies away, and your tone turns serious, “We don't need to do it if you don’t want to. We can do something else.”

Miguel is silent for a moment, and his eyes move back to the box. He studies it for a second before nodding, “I… want to try it.”

He can feel his cock jump with interest, and he aches the more he imagines it. You chuckle at him as his cock begins to leak precum, and you reach over for the box. You empty the contents, placing the strap and dildo on the bed and placing the lube on the nightstand for the time being. Miguel watches as you assemble the strap, his skin flushed. He can’t help but admire your hands, watching them as they work to complete the toy, almost like you’ve done this countless times. When it’s finally put together, you slip it on, adjusting the straps until it clings to your body nicely. The sight of you makes Miguel’s cock jump, and he has to fist the sheet to stop him from touching himself. 

You walk over to the night stand, grabbing the lube and opening it. You hold the dildo steady as you squirt some of the lubricant on it, stroking up and down to coat the silicone. Miguel gulps as you turn to him, your hand still stroking the toy as you smile at him. 

“Hands and knees, Miggy. Need to prep you too.” 

Miguel gulps, hesitating before doing what he’s told. His cheeks flame as he sits in the center of the bed, resisting the urge to lose his position to bury his head into his arms. The bed dips when you join him, resting just behind him. He shivers when your lips brush up his spine, his eyes shutting as he lets out a breath. Your breath is warm as you giggle, hitting his skin. It almost distracts him from the faint path your fingers make over the side of his thighs. They move up, your nails dragging to his pelvis. His head hangs down as your fingers skim over his cock, his spine stiffening as you grab him at the base.

He moans softly as your hand strokes him, his hands fisting at the sheets. His cock twitches at your attention, his tip weeping precum that you swipe away with your fingers. He can feel the ball in his stomach tightening until it explodes, making you pull your sticky hand away. 

“One,” You call from behind him.

Miguel groans quietly, his eyes opening as he looks over his shoulder. The bottle of lube sits next to your knee, but you ignore it as you wipe your hand against Miguel’s puckered hole. His sticky cum clings to his skin, wetting it slightly. Your finger presses against his hole, meeting some resistance. You grab the lube, spreading him apart as you watch the clear liquid drip onto his skin. He flinches at the coldness, whining as your finger swirls it around his hole. His ass clenches when you slip your finger inside of him, the resistance from before gone. 

Miguel’s brows furrow, trying to relax his body. You reward his efforts with the slight curl of your finger and a kiss to the base of his spine. Miguel’s body jolts when he feels a second finger just outside his hole, his body collapsing forward when you push it in slowly. The two fingers bump against the untouched bundle of nerves, making Miguel choke on a moan. You smile, slowly pumping and curling the two fingers. You’ve never heard Miguel be so vocal as you tease his prostate, watching the way his body jolts and shifts. You make sure not to put direct pressure against his gland, wanting to save all the fun for the main event. It’s just enough to make a dose of pleasure melt into his spine, and you pull your fingers away when you’ve deemed him stretched enough. 

Miguel’s chest is already heaving against the mattress when he feels the wet tip of the dildo at his hole. His body locks as it slowly pushes in, hitting against his prostate. His cock twitches as he squeezes his eyes shut, still so sensitive from your fingering. You bottom out inside of him, giving him a second before slowly pulling back. It’s enough for him to moan loudly, his dick jumping as he spurts pearly cum onto the sheets. He groans, cheeks flushed from embarrassment at his premature orgasm. You have the opposite reaction, laughing as you coo down at him.

“Oh, Miggy. Was it that good?” You smile, pausing all movement. 

Miguel doesn’t respond, only panting. His hand comes to his cock, hissing when he touches his tip. He tries to sooth the orgasm with slow strokes, but he’s stopped when your hands pull him away. His cock is going soft, but it hardness up as you slowly push back into him. 

“Just need one more from you, Miggy. Just one more.” You whisper behind him.

He lets out a tired hum in acknowledgement. He sighs out heavily, his eyes feeling droopy. His mouth drops open again in a moan when you thrust fully into him for the first time. His prostate swells as the faux veins of the dildo rubs against it with each movement of your hips. His hands squeeze into the bed, burying his head into the sheets to muffle his whimper. He bucks his hips, pushing back into you lazily. Your hands rub up and down his back, small praises leaving your lips. It goes straight to Miguel’s head, making it foggy. He lifts his head, his chin sinking into the mattress. 

“Close,” he whines, “So close.”

You hum, dragging out and stopping until only the tip of the dildo is in him. The orgasm dies down, his prostate throbbing. Miguel mumbles, shaking his hips to coax the dildo further inside of him. You shush him, slowly pushing back into him. He sighs out in relief, grinding back onto you as you begin thrusting again. You surprise him when your hand reaches to his front, grabbing at his cock. You simply hold his heavy cock in your hands, speeding up your thrusts. The force of them jolts his body forward, making him thrust into your hand involuntary. He moans weakly, sniffling as tears prick his eyes from the sensitivity. He cock twitches, and you tighten your hold around him. 

Miguel lets out a shaky, broken moan as he cums. His entire body twitches with the release, and you stop your thrusting to quickly jack him off. He whines loudly, trying to escape your touch. You relent when he starts babbling pleas for mercy, squeezing his tip before letting him go. He sinks into the bed, moaning quietly when you slide out of him. His knees straighten up, allowing him to lay flat on the bed. He whines slightly, his knees aching slightly from being in the position for a while. His eyes close, only to open when he feels your fingers at the nape of his neck. He moves his head to the side, looking at you with sleepy eyes. You smile down at him, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to his sweaty forehead. He smiles slightly at the soft affection, eyes fluttering shut. 

“You just stay here, yeah? Gonna go get you water and something to clean you up with.” You say softly, your hands pushing his hair away from his face. 

He simply nods, feeling you get off the bed and some shuffling before the door opens and closes. He sighs out, feeling his muscles relax and his mind begins to shut down. He feels the edges of sleep clawing into his bones, and he does nothing to fight it. 

God, this game is tiring.

[serene-sun]

𝕯𝖆𝖜𝖓 •-☀︎-⋆⁺₊⋆ 𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆- ☀︎-•

Pairing: swiss x reader, Swiss x dewdrop, dewdrop x reader, aether x reader, mountain x rain.

Summary: you’ve been up since three, considering you were there to see aether make breakfast, you need to back to bed as soon as possible!

*Text*: sensitive topic

“Your up early.” Aether walks into the ghoul den, finding your form wrapped up in a blanket on the couch.

He stumbled along to the kitchen, his flannel pants unevenly hanging from his hips, his shirt was as messy as his hair that went every other direction.

Aether rubbed his eyes, turning on the coffee pot and turning on the stove. He set a pan on it, letting the metal warm up.

“What’s got you up?” He asks, opening the fridge.

“I’ve been up since three.” You yawn, the blooming blue sun shinning through the window and it’s looming curtains.

“Three?” Aether chuckles to himself, he turns around to meet your droopy eyes, his finger tapping the door of the fridge with a sigh.

“Well…can’t say I don’t understand, it’s just like that sometimes.” He closes the door with a carton of eggs in his hand.

“I’m always like that in summer, the cold is just so much better.” You say

You grab the remote and turn up the TV as the morning news came on. You turn and fix the blanket that started to fall off of your body.

The sound of sizzling zones both you and aether out of the morning sleepy thoughts.

The door opens and a tired water ghoul lumbers his way into the room, turning on the lamp beside me as he enters the kitchen.

“Goodmorning.” Rains voice is scratchy and new, he scratches the back of his head.

His dark wavy locks were a mess, the same going for the long and faded band shirt that obviously was not his.

“Who’s shirt is that? Are you even wearing pants?” Aether looks at the water ghoul poring a cup of steaming coffee, he flips the eggs that simmer in the pan.

“Mountains, he shou-“ rains cut off by the earth ghoul coming behind him and bringing him into a tight hug.

You look over the back of the couch, “get a room you two.” You throw a fit looking as mountain practically picks him off his feet.

“Oh don’t worry, we did.” He laughs, much to make your eyes roll

“It’s going to be storming all day, we need to go ahead and bring in the pants.” Rain tells the tall ghoul, hinting towards the weather forecast that was printed across the TV.

“Yeah I was thinking about that.” He replies, “aren’t we getting some hail?”

*The sound of the ghouls conversations fade to white noise, and the sound of the TV makes you feel at home again. Maybe you would open your eyes again and be back home with nobody yelling or throwing things around.*

“Hey…” a voice says, just barely above a whisper.

You groan, feeling your eyes stiffen out as you realize you had fallen asleep. Hmm?

“Your very sleepy, how about you go to Swiss and firefly? You know they sleep in.” Aether rubs your arm, it had fallen from the coffin of blankets you wrapped yourself in.

“Mm no. M fine.” You nod, obviously lying.

You wish you were already there, within their warm confines, maybe Grey would be there purring and sending you to sleep.

“C’mon, let’s get you back into the bed.” Aether wraps you and your blankets in his arms, bringing your head to rest on his shoulder.

He rubs your back, you can feel his quintessential warmth spread through you and making you sleepier than before.

As soon as your head bobs, Aethers already opening the door to dews warm room with his foot. He brings you to his big bed, the black and red cotton sheets are all tangled around dew and Swiss cuddled together.

Aether leans down and sets you between the two, naturally they suffocate you with their love and affection. The room is dark, and the small sound of Swiss snoring and dew purring is making it extremely hard to focus on aether who’s leaving the room.

Swiss’s arm wraps around you, pulling you deeper into his chest. Dew is pressed up behind you, his mustache tickling your ear softly.

“Warm enough?” Swiss asks, he doesn’t open his eyes and he doesn’t go above a whisper.

You shrug, still in defeat of being put back to bed. Suddenly, you feel your back heat up, and the fire ghoul is giving you a tighter squeeze around your abdomen.

“Mm maybe.”

[vinnytotherescue]

Hello! Can I request a drabble in which the reader is very affectionate with V’s familiars (kisses and pets) and how he would react to it? Thank you so much!

i love this so much! we are just going to ignore the fact that I just learned that Shadow is a male...How did i not notice while playing-_-

also, Shadow i only focused on griffon and shadow hope you don't mind!

warnings: none pure fluff

V x Reader: Cuddles with the familiars

Being V’s significant other ultimately meant being able to tolerate two seemingly dangerous and overly protective familiars. That made V very anxious since he knew that not a lot of people would be able to handle such creatures. Their dark nature always scared people away. Yet you were not scared, you were fascinated. Somehow, you could even say that you had some kind of invisible bond with both Griffon and Shadow. From the moment you met them you fell in love with them and they with you, V never understood that but he nevertheless he was very grateful. 

Opening the door to your shared apartment you were faced with a silent V reading his book. Two seconds passed and before you could properly enter you were tackled down by shadow, griffon flying right next to your head. V turned his head to observe the scene, something that would occur every time you would return from work. But still it wasn’t something you could get used to. 

“Took you long enough huh (y/n)? Shadow got worried over there” Shadow just gave Griffon a death stare and continued laying in your lap. V had gotten off the couch by now and was standing next to you with a smirk on his face. 

“Griffon don’t be mean to Shadow, or we both know where you will end up” A giggle left your mouth and you turned to see and extended hand waiting for you to take it.

“I see, i think they like you more than me” V pulled you to your feet and you wrapped your arms around his waist , burying your head in the crook of his neck. 

“That’s not true and you know it” The room filled with your giggles as you stared into V’s green eyes. After detaching yourself from him you dragged him back to the couch this time your head in his lap. Your head was pounding like crazy from the intensity of your day at work and the only thing you could think about was how you were going to relax with V close to you. 

“Hard day at work?” his velvety voice was so soothing to your ears after the screaming and yelling in the office. Nero and Dante were a handful to manage. Your body curled closer to his as you nodded and you could feel your muscles relax as he stroked your head. A small smile found its place on your face as you felt something warm curling on your legs. You slightly raised your head and was faced with a sleepy Shadow. 

“You are sleepy too my boy?” you pet the huge jaguar as he now lay still on your legs, his dense fur  providing warmth to your tired body. Griffon felt left out completely so he came and took his usual place close to your chest, your arms slowly curling around him, careful not to hurt his beautiful wings. V could feel his heart warm up at the sight. He never expected this turn of events, he was beyond relieved that you three were so close. You always wanted some kind of a pet and V having two familiars was just perfect. 

Kissing both Griffon and Shadow on their heads you felt your eyes become more and more droopy as time passed by. 

“Don’t I get a kiss?” V stared at you his eyebrows raised from the lack of attention from you. You turned your head toward him mouthing a soft sorry in your way and placed a kiss on his cheek. After seeing his deadpan expression you tiredly giggled again and gave him a normal kiss on the lips. 

Your lips parted and you just went back to your original position, one arm hugging Shadow and one hugging Griffon.

“Want me to read you a bit?” You quickly nodded your head at the suggestion and closed your eyes enjoying his smooth voice filling the room. 

“I love you all” 

The words slowly started to merge into one and your breathing slowed down as you surrendered to dreamland.

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

thank you for reading!! ;)

[cod-dump]

I feel like you can do something with this because it's been stuck in my brain for weeks.

Graves with a water sprayer. Like the little hand held ones for plants, but for his Shadows. Just, gives the Shadows a little spray when they've been bad. Maybe Nik too-

Alternatively, Graves with a water sprayer and he sprays Shadows when they look 'Droopy, like a sad plant.' Maybe the water is scented or something, idk

Just... Chaotic Graves with a water sprayer. Have fun :3

He originally bought the spray bottle for his two office plants, but now it’s primary use is disciplinary. Two Shadows barged into his office, arguing and wanting Graves to put a end to their disagreement yet neither would shut up so he could say anything. So, without thinking, Graves grabbed his spray bottled and sprayed the two Shadows to get their attention.

It worked and now Graves uses the spray bottle whenever the situation calls for it. He mostly uses it when Shadows are acting dumb, like today. The heat wave seemed to have every one of his Shadows snapping at one another and causing fights. Graves had sprayed two Shadows and quickly realized that the bastards were trying to get him to spray them. So, naturally out came the hose.

Now everyone was soaked but much happier, even Graves had a soaked shirt… which attracted a certain boyfriend of his.

“Mm, I can see your tattoo, Phil.”

The sudden low voice in his ear caused Graves to tense up, then shudder when he quickly realized who it was. A few Shadows were looking their way as Nik pressed against his back, hands grabbing his hips with the pure intent on being trouble. Spraying him in the face with the hose was only logical. Nik’s sunglasses were left askew, his hair slightly messy as water dripped down from his soaked face. He clearly hadn’t expected Graves to turn around that fast and spray him, much to Graves’ amusement.

“Down, boy. I have Shadows to cool off.”

He then quickly departed his momentarily stunned partner, knowing if he didn’t get a good distance between them before he snapped out of it that he would surely get jumped. He would like to not have that happen again, not in front of the Shadows, at least. They’re annoying enough as is.

[buns0fst33l]

— sub!König —

-Cod men scenarios-

König x GN Reader

MDNI Suggestive themes

TW: brief mention of injury/warfare

Not proofread, also I used Google Translate

König, who’s secretly a switch but only under very particular circumstances.

Normally, he wants to be in charge. In his head, he wants to be in charge. When he’s with you intimately, he wants to be in charge. But there’s a very particular set of circumstances that have him rolling over to expose a soft underbelly he didn’t know he had.

You have plans to get lunch with him after a three month leave. He comes to you, excited as always. But there’s something about him coming back at the exact moment you’ve finished getting ready to go out that absolutely wrecks him.

Now, he loves you and finds you to be “an enchanting creature”, even when your face is puffy and your complexion is shit and you feel like ass. And he is excited to come home to you and worship your lovely body regardless of what state it’s in. Usually it’s the middle of the night, when you’re in your most natural and comfortable state, which he loves.

But something about this is eating him alive.

You’re wearing your favorite outfit. Your hair is freshly washed, mostly dry but still slightly cool to the touch from the remaining bit of moisture. You’ve just finished lathering yourself in lotions and oils and perfume. The delicate metal of the casual jewelry you’ve chosen compliments your skin tone in the most angelic way, glittering with little reflective shimmers as your body moves around to preen itself.

‘Wie ein Hase,’ (like a bunny) he thinks to himself. The warmth and scent of your shower is still wafting off of your water-softened skin deliciously.

As soon as you notice him, you move so fast it’s funny and bounce your way over to the objectively creepy brute who looks ready to eat you alive. Ugh, the domestic sight of your warm smile and cute bare feet quickly padding over to greet him has his soul fucking melting.

With all the grace of a bull in a china shop, he grabs you, picks you up, and sits on the couch with you straddling him. Both of his massive, too-long arms are wrapped around your torso like pythons and his face is buried in the crook of your neck. He’s shamelessly huffing in deep lungfuls of your scent like an animal, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth noisily. With every breath, he scoots that crooked, handsome nose of his an inch in another direction to get more of your scent. Once he reaches just behind your ear, you squeal and push on his shoulders at the unexpected tickle it causes. His arms are still keeping your body pressed closely to his.

“Hello to you too….Are you having fun?” You tease him lowly, reaching to grab the sides of his face and pry his big head away from your body and into your line of sight. He resists for a second, but then allows it, looking into your eyes with heavy eyelids.

He’s so textbook masculine and somehow adorable at the same time. Those strong, dark brows of his are relaxed and those intense, steel-blue eyes are lidded over even more than usual, droopy and sleepy-looking. The faintest bit of pink dusts over his strong cheek bones and crooked Roman nose. His pretty, thin cupids bow lips are slightly parted and his tongue darts between them briefly as he gives you a slow nod in response to your question. His breathing is quiet, but deep and heavy. A barely-restrained pant.

One of your hands leaves his face to push back the silky black strands of his hair with a gentle but efficient swipe and you can’t help but coo at the way his eyes roll back and flutter shut at your gentle touch. Your hand finds its way back to his jaw right away and you lean in, clicking your tongue lovingly at the pitiful mess he so quickly became.

Oh you have no idea the effect you’re having. All he’s seen for months is ugly, angry, dying and bitter men. Even triumph stunk of unwashed, musty clothes, metal, caked-on sweat, infected stitches, sun-rotted blood stains. And suddenly he has what feels like a newly made doll, crafted by god just for him, finished just in time for his weary soul to lap up like a starved dog. Instead of grime and sweat and oil and god-knows-what-else, his callused fingers greedily smooth over your expanses of clean, delicious, fuckable-smelling flesh.

His palms drag over your sides and back and his fingertips grab at your clothes and drag over your scalp eagerly. You smile softly at the state he’s in and grab his wrists. He allows you to pull his hands off of you, but scoots his hips forward and against your body like he needs to make up for the physical contact you took away.

“Liebling…bitte…” his voice cracks a little. You bite your lip and search his eyes, feeling a power trip wash over you. You grasp it delicately, afraid you’ll accidentally break the spell he’s under if you bring his attention to it.

“What do you need, Kö?” You whisper to him, thumbs stroking his huge forearms you’re holding in front of you. Your hands don’t go around all the way. He is just… allowing you to be in charge of his absolute tank of a body. He is being so mushy for you right now. He bites his lip and whines quietly.

Oh you need to see where this goes. Fuck your lunch date, you can get takeout later.

Please like or reblog if you enjoyed! 💋

✨banner/divider created by @cafekitsune!✨

[oliversrarebooks]

can we see fitz's far less patient approach to taking a thrall?👉👈

I'm working on a much longer piece about Fitz's magic show, but I wanted to write a short holiday piece to cheer up anyone who might be cheered up by a vampire kidnapping them off the street.

Couldn't be me.

TW: hypnosis, kidnapping

It's a cold day, much colder than you expected it to be when you went out Christmas shopping. The sun's already long since down, the street lamps are flickering to life, and snow is falling gently from the sky, sticking in your hat and scarf. If you don't make it out of the cold soon, you feel like you might freeze to the sidewalk. But all the streets look alike, and none of them look familiar.

As you're trying to get your bearings, you run straight into a young man in a dark green peacoat, almost spilling all of your shopping. "Sorry, sir! I didn't see you there."

"Oh, no need to apologize," he says with a quick flash of a smile. He kneels down to pick up a bag you dropped. "Are you lost?"

You're not keen on admitting that to a total stranger, but something about him puts you at ease. "Not seriously... I only just came from Clarkson's Five and Dime, and I'm trying to find my way back to Grove Street."

"I see. I think I can help," he says. But instead of pointing you in the right direction or handing you back your bag, he reaches out with his hand -- ungloved, on a chill winter night -- and brushes a snowflake from your cheek.

His hand is cold, so freezing cold, but you feel flooded with delightful warmth, as if you're sitting by a roaring fire. It's so comforting that you ignore the alarm bells in your mind trying to warm you, and instead stay stock still as he steps closer and caresses your cheek.

"There you are," he says. "Feeling better?"

"Yes... sir..." you say. The world around you is starting to blur, a featureless haze of gas lamps and shop windows. All you can focus on is eyes the color of rainclouds.

He smiles, and you might be able to recognize something wrong with his grin, if only you weren't feeling so utterly relaxed and calm and helpless.

"Let me take your bags." He pulls them from your arms, never breaking eye contact, before replacing his hand on your cheek. He plucks your hat from your head and pets your hair, and you don't mind a bit, because you're so warm that you don't need it. "I'll help put you to sleep."

Sleep? That doesn't seem right. "I was... I was trying to get to Grove Street..." you explain again, your words sounding weak and shaky.

"No." His finger brushes your cheek. "You were trying to get to sleep. You're so tired, and that's dangerous out in this snow. You need to find some place to sleep."

A yawn escapes you. It's true. You've been shopping all day, and now that you're warm, you're so very, very drowsy. "I need to sleep..." you agree.

"Yes, you need to sleep. You're so sleepy, and you're sleepier every minute you're out in the snow. Your eyes are so droopy it looks like you can barely keep them open." He smiles again. "It's an awfully good thing I've found you."

"Mmmm... mmm hmmm..." You feel like you could agree with anything he has to say. You're practically asleep on your feet, and it's only his arm around your waist that's holding you up now. You let your head come to rest on his shoulder, letting your eyes rest.

The next thing you know, strong arms are scooping you up off the sidewalk. You're in the strange man's arms, and it feels so normal and natural. "I need to take you someplace a little more private so I can take my meal and so that you can rest," he says into your ear. "How does that sound?"

You snuggle in close to the wool coat. It smells of flowers, expensive soaps. You find it hard to be bothered that the man is taking you anywhere. You're so warm and you just want to curl up and go to sleep.

He chuckles. "Sometimes I really can't believe what easy marks humans are. I suppose I was too, once."

You stir, your sleeping mind trying to understand what he means.

"Don't worry about it. Go back to sleep."

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity

[leahsixx]

a bien regarder.

a short story of a quiet morning with the Nikki Sixx and Y/N.

warnings: fluff.

lmk if any typos or mistakes.

****, OK let's do this one more time, if this goes wrong again then we'll just have to go with what we've got

Alright let's go.

I think you should bring the boom in just a bit closer. Yeah no that's too close, it's in frame - oh. Yeah that's it. OK, sound

Check

Lights.

Check

Camera, rolling.

Uh, scene 74, take 21

Action.

———

April 17th 1984. It was a sunny, graceful morning, the sun was shining thru the beige curtains making the room have an orange undertone. Birds chirping could be heard. And cars, also motorcycles could be heard driving down the streets. Only a few people were walking down the streets, it was just 9:23 on a Sunday after all. It’s such a gorgeous sight, it felt blessed. I’ve always loved mornings like these, it brung out a peaceful feeling. It felt composed, it was a peerless start to the day. It’d hadn’t been this weather in a while, it was warm, sunlit, and cloudless. My favorite. It was really my kind of morning.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed, on the white/beige sheets. A hot cup of coffee in my hands, looking out on the streets, watching a young mother with her son, a cute small boy with brown hair and he was around the age of… 5. It was adorable. They were on their way to the playground on the corner next to our apartment building. I had opened the curtains slightly, not letting too much light in yet. I was wearing a white, soft robe with pink roses on it. It felt warm and comforting around my smooth skin, it was my favorite robe. I was totally lost in my thoughts, taking small sips of the coffee i had prepared..

I snapped out of my day dreaming when i heard Nikki next to me, stirring and making small, cute little sounds. He was waking up, unhurried. I looked at him. His black hair was ruffled and messy. A ray of sun was shining on his pretty face, he looked sleepy as his dark green eyes were fluttering open. The white/beige sheets only covered the lower half of his body as he was nude from the night before. I watched his eyes open and adjust to the orange light that lit the bedroom, i had a soft smile on my face as he looked at me and he rubbed his eyes and let out a small, sleepy whimper. He looked at me as a sleepy smile came onto his rosey lips.

“Good morning..” I say in a soft, quiet tone. Scooting closer and wiping the hair out of his face, he has a lot of it.

“Morning..” He replies, he sounds very sleepy and his voice was raspy. It was quite adorable if you ask me. He was always such a sleepyhead and had trouble waking up early, i had to drag him out of bed if we had plans early in the morning. But today, he woke up on his own.. and we had nothing to do all day. It felt so good.

Nikki sits up against the headboard, he rubs his eyes once again and does a little yawn. His eyes are droopy and he looked disoriented. He had the white/beige sheets covering his lap, his skin was warm so he didn’t need them anyways. It was a warm morning, it felt like summer when it was just April.

I take another sip from my coffee before i reach my hand out and hand him it. I already had drunken half and i didn’t care to give the rest to Nikki. He smiled.

“Thank you, baby..” He mumbled and took the coffee from my hands as he started to sip it.

We sat in bed for about 1,5 hours. Nikki immediately wanted to cuddle, so of course we did. We just stared outside the window, enjoying the nature as Nikki whispered sweet nothings into my ear, it was so comforting and peaceful. After time went on it was time to get ready. Nikki was resisting but when i mentioned showering together he got up like there was no tomorrow.

We got out of bed and went into our shared bathroom. I had turned on the lights and opened the blinds of the one window that was in the bathroom, i looked outside the window to see the tall, dark trees. It was an indescribable sight. We stood beside each other in front of the sink and started to brush our teeth, Nikki’s arms were around my waist as he rested his chin on my shoulder. He was still sleepy and wanted warmth.

“I love you so much, baby..” He mumbled as he brushed his teeth. It sounded funny but it was incredibly sweet, he is such a puppy.

“I love you too.” I mumbled and spit out my toothpaste, rinsing my mouth and immediately wrapping my arms around his neck, giving him a warm and loving hug.

As we both finished brushing our teeth i turned on the shower. As we waited for the water to turn warm i took off my robe, Nikki got excited and immediately started to press soft kisses on my lips. After a moment we both stepped in the shower, Nikki was practically glued to me. I grabbed the shampoo bottle and squeezed some into the palm of my hand and started to wash his hair, massaging the shampoo into his scalp as he pouted. “I feel like a little kid..” He mumbled grumpy, but he couldn’t hide the fact he had a small blush on his cheeks. He loved showering together. All he wanted is love and affection. And i didn’t think twice to give him all of it.

I just chuckled. Pressing a few kisses to his soft little lips to make it up, he smiled every time i kissed him. His arms were around me and he kept moving and getting distracted. But that didn’t stop me from washing him. I finished washing his gorgeous long black hair, and we ended the morning by making love in the shower..

——————————————————————————

-leahsixx.

[avatar-anna]

sooo just an ideaaaa, newly in relationship prof and h cuddling and h having to adjust his pants while cuddling. i read a similar thing somewhere and immediately thought of h and prof.

The Professor Series

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Harry had fallen asleep pretty early into the documentary you were watching, but you didn’t mind. Honestly, it was just nice to be with him, conscious or unconscious.

Your eyes were glued to the screen, watching as two whales swam around in the ocean while the narrator explained how their species lived among other animals in the sea. You’d become so engrossed in the documentary, that everything around you nearly fell away. Nearly.

Harry hadn’t moved, and yet somehow his knee was poking you in the back. You moved around a little, trying to reclaim a comfortable position, when you heard Harry hiss behind you. Looking back, you saw that he was still laying behind you, still asleep, but there was a look of discomfort on his face.

It all clicked into place.

Hiding a giggle, you shifted your focus back to the television. The stiffness at your back was somewhat hard to ignore, but you did your best, trying to lay as still as possible.

Eventually Harry stirred from his nap. His hands subconsciously rested themselves on your hips as he kissed your neck gently. It seemed he either hadn’t noticed he was rock hard against your back or he didn’t care.

“I didn’t realize blue whales did it for you,” you joked, resting a hand over his.

Harry stilled, seemingly coming to the realization that he has a boner. “Sorry,” he said with a laugh, embarrassed at the current predicament. “I don’t—I’m not sure why—”

“It’s fine. Getting an erection while you’re asleep is perfectly natural. In fact, on average men get about three to five each night. Nocturnal penile tumescence is actually an indicator of—Sorry, you probably don’t need a lecture on men‘s reproductive health.”

You didn’t know why you always felt the need to offer up information when no one asked for it. Perhaps you were a little nervous about the situation at hand, seeing as you and Harry had only been intimate a handful of times. Each time was great, better than great, so you didn’t know why you became a bashful mess around him when things like this, for lack of better word, “came up.”

“I don’t mind. I think nocturnal penile tumescence is better than a cold shower, honestly,” he mused.

You shuffled around so you could face Harry instead of the TV, your leg brushing against his front and causing him to groan. “Sorry, sorry,” you said, pecking his chin. Harry only looked down at you with a small grin, his eyes still droopy from his nap.

“Hi,” you said.

“Hi. What’s up?”

You blushed. “Do you want me to—I mean, would you like me to—I could, you know, if you wanted—”

Harry thankfully stopped your bumbling with a kiss. One hand sunk into your hair, the other pulling you closer by the waist. You melted against him, your fingers latching into the chain around his neck as he pushed you deeper into the couch.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” he asked. You could feel him smile against your skin.

“No, I’m—Oh!—I’m just trying to help.”

“My helpful girl,” he said, nibbling just beneath your ear. “Choosing me over a documentary? Now I know you truly love me.”

“Of—Of course I love you,” you said.

Harry tapped your nose with his knuckle, a familiar glint in his eye. “More than the cats?”

You gave him a quick kiss. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”

“We’ll see about that.”

[eldritch-spouse]

stroking and kissing Livius's horns? he is such a cute sweetheart, yandere or not

He's doing that thing again.

Ever since being brought to Envy, your attitude shifted. As is to be expected. Hell changes people, oftentimes bringing out the worst in them. You're no exception, of course. Being in Envy has made you colder, a bit more reserved, cautious and judgemental towards all. This means Livius has some catching up to do.

Because, for some reason, he always has to be as aligned to your personality and moods as he can be. You've stopped questioning why he does this, it's been a constant since the start of your odd "relationship"- Probably a disturbance born of his nature, as an incarnation of envy itself. Can't really fault him for that, can you?

Nevertheless, it means he's being a lot more studious of you recently, taking note of your every action and reaction, absorbing it all like a sponge so he can then express those demeanors himself. Most of the time, the King is subtle in his efforts, yet during some other instances -Like now- He just stands silently and stares. It's more of a glare, really.

Eerily still, your King and husband observes you place new decorations around your shared room. That's another thing he pays close attention to, the way you'll redecorate. The house is an extension of one's mind, after all. Every now and then, as you turn this way and that, you manage to steal discreet glances at Livius, and sometimes, he'll do it.

That cute little reflex you like so much.

A brief, periodic twitch of the horns.

It was quite shocking to learn that demons have many types of horns. Not all of them are hard and bony, jutting upwards like the tines of a fork. Some are droopy and curly, others are tendrils, some loop around each other, others sway around their heads, their diversity is something truly mesmerizing. And Livius just so happens to be part of a minority of demons who feature moving horns, these long prong-like protrusions with a surprising amount of flexibility. They can flip up, back, forward, even curl a little at the ends.

He'll flick them about in certain choice moments, usually according to his moods. Although, when Livius falls into deep focus the way he has now, they'll twitch about in just the cutest way. It makes your heart soar.

" Come here. " You call.

The Icon jolts, blinking repeatedly, embarassed to be caught. " H- Hm? "

" Come. " You repeat.

The demon's smile inches upwards slightly. He walks in a different way already, a more measured pace, like yours, leaning down when you beckon him to do so.

The moment they're within reach, you grasp his blue horns with both hands and edge up their length until your left hand reaches the first ring on his right horn. Livius' face twists a bit at first, like the contact is unexpected, then relaxes steadily, giggling even, when you tug slightly at the protrusions and feel the way they give slightly.

" Pray tell, what has my King so distracted? " You joke, watching as his eyes flutter to a close and his horns droop further against the sides of his sharp face.

They look almost like the floppy ears of a dog, this way.

" Hhh- Nothing, sweetums! I just spaced out, you know me. "

You really don't, but you fear no one else does either.

" Good. " You murmur, placing sweet smooches up his right horn and feeling the extremity squirm slightly in your grasp.

Livius hums, tilting his head into the touch, completely unaware of how the twin curls on itself from delight at your sweet touch.

Sometimes, you can almost pretend this is alright.

[dangowon]

title » boyfriend hcs !

pairing » yang jungwon x gn!reader

requested? » yes

genre » fluff

word count » 1.2k (kind of got carried away)

a/n » i'm really sorry for not having posted for so long, i've been busy with school. i lost the request for this since the person deactivated, so i can't link it to the post :( but either way, i hope you enjoy this <3

✧ jungwon is the sweetest person ever, and he'd be even sweeter as your boyfriend

✧ as a leader, jungwon is expected to be on his best behaviour and he's expected to show maturity. with you though, he feels comfortable enough to show more of his child-like side, and it's apparent in the way he whines when you don't give him attention or how he swings your intertwined hands forward and back while you walk.

✧ when you're offering him some of your food, he'll expect you to be handfeeding him and if you're not, he'll pout until you do. at the beginning of your relationship, he found these things 'embarrassing', but as time went by, he was able to be his true self around you.

✧ fancy dates aren't really his thing (although he wouldn't mind it for a special occasion like your anniversary), so most of your dates are spontaneous and unplanned. sometimes when you can't sleep, you two will go on walks in the nearby park and enjoy the peace and quiet.

✧ he also loves picnic dates so much, he'll make sure it's perfect for you; he'll bring bowls of cut-up fruit that are shaped into hearts, your favourite sandwiches (jay helped him make them, but you don't have to know that) and pastries from a cafe that you both visit often.

✧ he didn't think he would love stargazing with you as much as he does, but it feels so natural for you two to lie down and talk while admiring the night sky. though secretly, he'll stare you while you're busy counting the stars present that night despite there being too many. because to him, no star will ever be more beautiful than you are.

✧ due to his busy schedule, it's common that you can't see him that much during the day. to compensate for that, he'll spam you with selfies of him doing random things like drinking water or he'll bring his face really close to the camera, open his eyes wide and lowkey jumpscare you.

✧ he will also update you with whatever happens during his day — you'll get texts talking about him seeing a new restaurant that opened up and saying that you two should try going there, or him saying how he saw a cute cat on the street and pet it despite his allergies.

✧ he can't shut up around you. like, at all. during comeback season, he will do exactly what the company told him not to do and literally tell you every detail. he shows you the whole choreography and sings the song to you because he's just so excited.

✧ he does well with balancing his work as an idol and taking care of himself, but when the pressure, fatigue and stress hit him all at once, he can't help but feel under the weather. he'll try to act like he's fine, but you can tell in the way his movements are more sluggish and by the dark circles underneath his droopy eyes.

✧ sometimes people forget that he's young, and shouldering so many responsibilities every single day is hard on him. he feels safe when he's with you, he feels safe when you open your arms for him to lay between and lend him your shoulder to cry on when he needs it.

✧ the way you rub his back gently while whispering sweet words into his ear is everything he needs to feel whole. he doesn't like showing vulnerability, but he's beyond glad that he has you by his side, constantly reassuring him that things will be fine.

✧ of course he'll be there for you as well when you need it, he always is. if you're feeling sad, he'll drop whatever he's doing to comfort you, kissing your forehead and asking you what's wrong. even if you don't want to talk about it, he'll do whatever it takes to see your pretty smile.

✧ his cuddles are the comfiest, you two spend hours just laying together in bed with your limbs tangled and your head resting on his chest. sometimes he prefers for you to hold him, especially if he's tired. he'll trap you with his arms around your waist, he's stronger than he looks and he will not let go of you.

✧ as sweet as he is, he can also be quite the mischievous person sometimes. if you're too busy on your phone (a.k.a, not paying attention to him for 5 seconds) he'll take it and hold it above your head if you're shorter than him, telling you to give him at least ten kisses if you want it back.

✧ if you're taller, he'll grab it and run around the house while you chase him — he runs really fast, it's actually kind of scary. he'll pucker his lips at you and once again, tell you to kiss him if you want your phone back.

✧ he loves kissing you so so much, and he'll do it anywhere, anytime. when he wakes up and sees you beside him, he can't help but break out into a smile and press his lips onto yours shortly before nudging you awake. he gets all blushy if he finds out you were awake while he kissed you.

✧ he doesn't go shopping that much, but if you've been wanting something for a while, he'll buy it for you and pretend like it wasn't him. oh, that one phone you were thinking about buying suddenly ended up on your desk? he has no idea how it got there.

✧ matching rings are a must. you two got matching rings 6 months into your relationship, and he never takes his off. even if he's live, he'll keep it on because he likes the reminder that you're his and he's yours.

✧ he doesn't let it show often, but he gets jealous quite easily. whether it be somebody staring at you or a person being bold (and stupid) enough to come ask you for your number, he'll wrap his arm protectively around you, making it clear that you are in fact taken.

✧ and if that's not enough? he can't physically fight them, mostly because he's a public figure, but his words are sharp and he'll find a way to humiliate that person so that they'd go away. afterwards, he'd press a kiss to your cheek and smile cutely at you as if he didn't just decimate someone's ego.

✧ he can't stand not being around you for long amounts of time, so when he's on tour and you can't come with him, he's miserable — and dramatic, at that. he'll constantly text you that he misses you with frowning emojis and says that he wishes you were with him.

✧ when he gets back, you can bet that he'll be all over you; peppering kisses on every inch of your face, clinging to you for hours on end and he even makes you sleep over so that he can cuddle with you the entire night.

✧ he doesn't feel complete without you around him, you're one of the most vital things in his life and he doesn't think that he could ever fathom a life that doesn't have you in it. the thought of you alone is enough for him to get through the day and he hopes that he'll be able to be with you for as long as you'll allow him.

✧ your relationship is just the cutest thing ever honestly <3