#able to sleep? turn his brain off? feel safe and comfy enough to just relax?

[queerdiazs]

fuck it friday ✨

hi friends, sorry for being so late work was ass and i was wet from the rain all day and apparently i'm more exhausted than i thought i was 😪 tomorrow will be better tho i'm manifesting that shit

have a lil sleepy silly buddie cuddles from eddie vs the hoa

“What are you doing up? It’s late.”  “Went to piss. Your door was shut.”  “You didn’t have to come find me.”  Buck shrugs. “I was worried,” he says, simply.  Eddie’s heart flutters, just a little bit, and he snuggles even further into Buck’s heat, wondering if this is how moths feel when they seek out light. “I was doing research.”  “That’s my thing.”  “I can know stuff, too,” he says, pinching the inside of Buck’s wrist where it rests on his knee. His hands are so big, only a little smaller than Eddie’s. “I have to pay dues by next Friday.”  Buck hums. “Want me to go with you?” he asks, reaching up to run his fingers through Eddie’s hair. Eddie melts, the tightness in his shoulders disappearing as if it were never there at all, and slouches further against Buck’s side.  “She does like you better than me.”  Buck’s chuckles shake Eddie’s whole body. “Everybody does.” He brushes a tangle out of Eddie’s hair. “Come back to bed.”  Eddie’s lashes flitter, but he keeps them closed. “I don’t know if I can sleep,” he says, whisper-soft. He’s tired, achy; sleep weighs thick in his bones, but he’s too wound to rest. “My brain won’t turn off.”  Humming, Buck rests his cheek on top Eddie’s head and leans back against the couch, bringing Eddie with him. “That’s okay,” he says, turning his head just enough to huff his stinky yawn right in Eddie’s face. Eddie’s so exhausted he can’t even muster any irritation. “I’ll sit with you till you can.” 

btw i was tagged by @shitouttabuck, @watchyourbuck, @hippolotamus, @giddyupbuck, @fortheloveofbuddie, @try-set-me-on-fire, @ladydorian05, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @folk-fae, @wildlife4life, @exhuastedpigeon, @jeeyuns, @daffi-990, @wikiangela, and @disasterbuckdiaz <3

only tagging @eddiediaztho because this is for her mwah

[puck-bunnies]

take care of you

nico hischier x fem!reader

warnings: none, just fluff. writing fluff is not my strong suit. not proof read.

word count: 1.6k

after a long night of clubbing all you want is just to rest, your boyfriend is there to take care of you.

i am almost black out drunk, the multiple shots of tequila going straight to my head. my boyfriend nico stays beside me the entire time, monitoring everything i drink, everywhere i go, trying to keep me safe.

since it’s hockey season, nico isn’t drinking alcohol, so when i want to go for a night out he’s my designated driver and personal bodyguard guard.

i pound back one more shot while he isn’t looking, he turns when he hears the glass smack against the counter. i stare at him all bug eyed, “come on Y/N, that’s enough for the night.”

“no, one more.” i slur out, i try to grab another shot from someone at the bar, but nick grabs my arms, hauling me into him.

“come on, i think it’s time to get you home.” his hands switch, one on my waist keeping me upright, and one helping me sling my arm around his shoulders. i groan as he wrestles his way out the crowd with me by his side.

nico finally manages to get me out of the club, getting us back to our car and picking me up into my seat. as soon as my body hits the comfy car seat, i almost knock out clean.

my body goes to sleep, but my mind somehow flights it. staring out the windows at the passing lights as my brain visits a different place. nico’s hand is on my thigh, rubbing up and down soothingly.

once we get into the driveway, he lugs me into the house. helping me take off my shoes, one by one, and then my jacket. my body falls into him, pulling him into a long bear hug.

he giggles, pulling me in by my waist and placing his head on top of mine. my head digs into his chest, god i could just fall asleep right here. a loud groan releases from my mouth, “i’m so tired.”

i can feel my whole body relaxing as one of his hands leave waist and tangle in my hair. his large hands rub my scalp, fingers combing through my hair. it feels like a hundred pound weight is taken off my shoulders, i lean against his chest letting him take the weight of me.

“you want to go to bed sweetheart?” he whispers to me. i nod my head again his chest, not even wanting to lift my head off the cushion of his skin. he lets out a soft giggle, knowing that i don’t even want to move the new feet to our bedroom, he sweeps me up.

my head is resting on his shoulder as he carries me to our bed. a deep and exhausted moan comes out of my mouth as my body finally hits the soft mattress. nico helps pull the covers over me, the lights stay off to help the headache that’s starting to creep up on me.

i so badly just want to roll over on my bed, lay on my stomach and just let the soft feathered pillows engulf my body. fuck, i’m still wearing makeup. “ugh, baby can you get me a makeup wipe from the bathroom?” i ask, giving him slight puppy dog eyes.

nico just chuckles, making his way to the bathrooms to get me what i want. it doesn’t take him long to find the wipes and finally return to be half dozed off in the bed. i fight the urge to sleep, grabbing the wipe from his hand and lazily wiping the long days makeup off of my face.

rubbing my eyes free of mascara i feel so much better, my face finally being free of my caked up face. i toss the wipe over the end of the bed, not caring about where it ends up or when ill pick it up.

i finally roll over onto my side, smushing my face into the white pillow case. one pillow finds its way into my arms, hugging it to fill the empty where nico would usually be. my eyes close, not being able to stay open enough to wait for nico to come to bed.

•°. *࿐

my heads pounding in my head, my whole body feels so heavy as i manage to lift myself to sit up in the bed. i groan but instantly regretting it, i can barely even breathe without it hurting my head. i’m about to move the sheets from off my body to grab some pills when i look over at the nightstand.

sitting next to my charging phone is a water bottle filled with cold water and advil. a smile spreads on my lips, nico snores beside me, i can’t help my feel my heart explode with happiness. he went out of his way last night to keep me safe, get me home, ready for bed and think ahead to grab me medicine. god i love this man so fucking much.

i pop the pills back in my mouth, swallowing them down with a huge gulp of water. it doesn’t take long for the advil to kick in, my head has stopped pounding with every breath i’m taking, my joints relax as i still haven’t left my bed since waking up.

nico finally starts to stir, quickly after he wakes up, turning over to look at me. i comb my hair through his bed head, he offers me a soft smile as my fingers lightly scratch at his scalp. “good morning.” i whisper.

“good morning baby, how you feeling?” his head goes to my chest, bringing me into a hug. my hands are still entangled in nico’s hair, letting him use me as a human shield.

i sigh, “oh i’m fine, i think i’m just going to lay low today.”

“i have practice at 11, so you can stay home and ill bring home some food and coffee after. we can just rest for today.” he knows that’s exactly what i want to hear, sometimes i think he knows me better than i know myself.

•°. *࿐

nico’s been gone for around two hours, i stay in our bed alone, completely cocooned in the bedsheets. i’ve switched from watching my show to being on my phone, and i feel completely brain rotted.

i keep chugging back water hoping that my hangover will just magically disappear. as expected, nothing is working. i stay rotting away in my empty bed while my eyes stay trained on the softly dimmed television screen.

i’ve basically tuned everything out, i don’t hear as the keys jingle in the lock and the front door opens. suddenly nico walks in the door, my head comes out of its haze and a bright smile warms my face.

nico’s accompanied by a pizza and my favourite starbucks drink. i let out a quiet exclaim, my body language pulling nico to me. “how was practice baby?” i ask, he hands me my drink before giving me a quick kiss on the lips.

“it was good, we just ran the same drills. nothing too special happened. how’re you feeling?” the pizza gets placed on my lap just as nico flops in the bed next to me. i open the box, the steam and waft of the pizza hits my face making my stomach immediately grumble.

“i’m getting better, resting is helping. i’m just so tired, and hungry.” i don’t waste a second, grabbing a slice of the steaming pizza and taking a bite. nico helps himself, grabbing the television remote as he settles back down.

“so what’re you thinking we watch? action, comedy, horror, romance…” he dreads the last option will be my answer. although he hates romance movies, he always suffers through them with me.

i laugh, “i’m in the mood for some stupid ass comedy movie.”

“hmm, how about 21 jump street? you seen that?” he questions, flicking through netflix’s home screen. he’s already on his second slice of pizza as i start nibbling on the crust, ripping apart the tough dough.

my eyes narrow at him, “are you kidding, of course i’ve seen that movie, it’s a classic comedy. we’re watching it, i love that movie.” i make my decision, not wanting to settle for anything less than my choice.

he laughs at me, putting the movie on and finishing most of the pizza. by the time there is only one or two slices gone, my starbucks has two sips left, my head is against nico’s chest, using him as a pillow. his hand is around my back, rubbing up and down soothingly.

the warmth, darkness and comfortable position makes my eyes start to lower. my breath is slowed and head in the clouds, my mind starts to leave away from me. with a few more rubs of my back, i’m fast asleep against his chest.

[stargazedwinchester]

Comfort | Cas

Summary: You've been suffering from nightmares recently, and call upon a certain angel for comfort.

Sorry it's a little short compared to what I've written before! Hope it's still okay! Based on this request here, thank you!

Word count: 722

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

You thought that nightmares were a thing of your past, or even what your day-to-day life is now.

Obviously, you wouldn't be living a somewhat normal life without them, of course, but it doesn't mean they absolutely frighten you half to death. You awaken, your heart feels like it is about to pound right through your chest. The dream itself felt so real, your eyes dart around to ensure that you're completely safe. You sigh in relief, forcing your eyes shut, and your hands covering them. "Please, God, just one night of sleep. That's all I ask." You moan, rubbing your eyes and then your face. "I beg. Just one night." You try to make yourself comfy again when there's a very quick whooshing sound coming from the front of your bedroom door. "Hi."

You jump, rapidly pulling your gun from under your pillow, and pointing it toward a man in a trenchcoat. "Jesus, Cas," You startle, lowering your gun. "You terrified me." You say, sitting up in bed. "Sorry, Y/N. I heard your prayer. You're struggling to sleep?" He says, cocking his head to the side. His eyes wide and full of sparkle. The feeling of comfort has suddenly taken over you once Cas' presence had been known. He's always managed to make you feel safe and protected, even when he's not around. You have always had a deeper connection to Cas compared to the Winchesters, but that didn't mean you loved them any less. It's just that your feelings towards Castiel are different... and they didn't need to know that.

Cas takes his coat off and hangs it on your door handle. His shoes as well. He pads over to the edge of your bed and faces you. "Yeah, the past few weeks have been difficult and I don't know why. I genuinely don't remember the last time I had a good night's sleep," You say, and his eyes lower to the sheets, then to you. "I want to try something." He says, looking up at you. His gorgeous blue eyes complimenting his features in the dim light of your bedroom makes your heart flutter. "Y-yeah, of course, what is it?" You ask, keeping your voice lowered. If either of the brothers heard that you've got Cas in your bedroom right now, neither of you would be able to live it down.

"I um," He starts hesitantly. "Is it okay with you?"

"Yeah, it is." You say, unsure of what his next moves are. He gently gets onto the other side of your bed, he leans back, one leg over the other. He places his arm under you, and gently moves you to lay with him. Your brain has all sorts of thoughts and questions right now, but it's best to leave it. "Do you... like this?" He asks, sounding unsure within himself. You grin. "Yeah. It's comforting."

"I've watched enough movies to know that this is what people in relationships do." He says, you look up at him and his eyes are shut. He looks content, and then he opens his eyes and moves his gaze onto you. Feeling nervous, you cuddle yourself closer to him, avoiding eye contact. Something like this happening definitely didn't cross your mind for what his plan was.

Your whole body relaxes at his touch. He slowly, but gently, moves his hand down to stroke your back. He keeps his gaze on you, a simper that never seems to fade. His tender demeanour puts your mind at ease as you place a hand on his chest. "You're so warm," You mumble, inching closer. "That's a good thing, right?" He says, and you nod "Mhm."

You calmly place your hand against his cheek, stroking his face. This time you make eye contact with him, and all he can do is stare at you lovingly. He's clearly enjoying this time spent with you, as it's not very often (if at all) that this happens. You reach up to him and give him a peck on the cheek, moving your hand back down to his chest. He turns over to face you, pulling you in so your head is underneath his chin, breathing in his faint smell of cologne. He cautiously rubs the bottom of your back as you both drift off into a deep sleep together.

[spikesbimbo]

Paring: Aone x f!reader

Summary: wet dream, or not?

Tags: dilf!aone, housewife!reader, sleepy late night sex, spooning, daddy kink, soft sweet sex, creampie,

wc: 1.6k

a/n:  Aone is 38, reader is 24 bc i said so

part of the dilf collab

18+ minors dni

-

“Thank you honey.” he muttered, wiping the sweat of his forehead, wanting to kiss those lips of yours so bad, but not wanting to get your precious skin dirty, and the way his coworkers were looking at the two of you meant he already had it coming.

Wondering how he got such a pretty thing, knowing you had to be at least half his age. Your pretty smile brightening the area around you as you clung onto his arm, having no shame in your affection for him. The constant teasing was worth it though if it meant he got to come home to you every night.

Grabbing the lunch out of your hands that he forgot this morning after you gave him a ‘good morning kiss’ before he left. Calling him saying you would bring it to him after seeing the box wrapped in the fabric laying on the counter, convincing him instead of buying snacks from the convenience store. 

Your sundress blowing in the wind that must feel so good to him right now, not wanting his eyes to leave you as you unfortunately had to go. Looking at the scruff on his face after not shaving this morning because you made him run late, the way his arms barely fit around his white shirt, the soft smile he gave you as his fingers were tracing your hand had you swooning. 

Muttering out a quick thank you again as he was about to turn around before you got on your toes meeting his lips with yours, seeing that they were minding their own business now,  just wanting some affection from your husband as earlier wasn't enough.

Catching him off guard as he gave in, a tint appearing on his cheeks, not embarrassed, never because of you, but because of him. The fact that your pretty little self was with him had people turning their heads, purposely going out of your way to show everyone the ring on your left hand. Being so proud that you had him, as he was with you.

Giggling as you left him there frozen, blowing him a kiss as you started walking away. The wind feeling cool on your skin as you walked home, mind still racing with him like he was the only thing you knew. 

__________________

Resting your head on the pillow, legs propped up on the couch, eating the takeout after he texted you he'd be home late so you didn't have to worry about him. Heart slightly cracking when you read the words, understanding as you knew his job had weird hours, this not being the first time it's happened. 

Eyes getting heavy as you watched the tv under the dim lights, the food growing cold as you haven't touched it in a while, resting on the table beside the vase of flowers he got you the other day. Head hurting as you laid down, eyes quickly closing after being tired doing nothing but waiting for him all day, vision quickly growing black. 

Waking up to your husband's touch, shifting in his hold as he carried you to the bedroom. Laying you down as he changed his clothes, quickly getting into bed with you. Your warm weight clinging onto him as a natural instinct, letting out a quiet groan as you realized you were snuggling into his chest, turning your face up while blinking slowly at him.

“What time is it?” You asked uncurling yourself from him.

“9:14.”

“You just got here?” You asked, missing the usual “Honey, I’m home.” as you were knocked out.

He knew you were gonna worry about him, as your sweet self did. Whispering softly into your ear as his hands wandered down to your sides, soothingly rubbing them trying to get you to go back to sleep. “Yeah...i just got back.”

The pout of your face said enough as you moved yourself up to be face to face with him. “You need to take a break baby. c'mere”

Pulling him into your chest, sighing as he let you. Thinking it was cute to be scolded by someone whose face was still puffy from just waking up. Slightly smiling as you refused to move your arms even though he could easily get out.

“You okay, shoulders hurt?” you asked running your fingers through his stress induced graying hair, only being able to tell up close due to the white hiding it. Massaging his temples, relaxing his muscles as the embedded frown on his face disappeared.

“Yeah, the usual.” 

Mumbling out “shouldn't be” under your breath as your arms brought him closer into you, wrapping your legs sound his waist, using him like the teddy bear he was. Eyes quickly falling shut at the feeling of his arms engulfing you, running his fingers down your back.

Your senses are hyper aware, sensitive at the slightest touch. Almost overwhelming as your half awake brain takes its time to feel everything. His chest rising against your back, a mewl escaping your lips, shivering at the ghost of his touch.

Unknowingly rolling your hips into his slack body, minding racing with thoughts of him pushing your ankles to your ears. The feeling is unbearable – pussy clenching as you tighten your thighs, an audible whine breaking you out of your trance, along with him.

“You need me love?” his voice hoarse with sleep muttered out. To be honest he was awake at your first movement, still resting his eyes knowing that you move around when you sleep, but when he heard you let out muffled whines he felt awful knowing that he was the cause.

“Y-yea, i-m’sorry daddy” your pitiful voice breaks his heart, so needy that his name didn't even exist in your mind anymore. His brain all foggy trying to formulate a sentence.

“Daddy ain't been payin enough attention to you to the point of you dreaming about it? M’sorry baby” he cooed sliding up his shirt off your waist, tugging your panites down, feeling needier as ever as you rocked your hips.

“M-m’sorry” you whimpered out, ashamed that you greedily woke him up just for your own need, hiding your face in the pillow as his fingers worked their way down to your poor little cunt, so neglected. Your fingers feeling nothing like his cock.

“Shh baby, s’okay let daddy take care of you.” his hot breath whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine while catching your made up protests with his fingers rubbing lazy circles on your clit. “S’my job honey.”

His big frame resting behind you put you at ease as his arm resting under you wrapped its way around your waist, pushing up the shirt even more. Calloused warm hands resting on your tummy as his sleepy eyelashes fluttered on your neck.

“n-nobu… please…” you begged, bit-down nails scratching at his forearm, body working against your mind as you tried to push his hand away.

His voice was raspy as he groaned, giving you what you wanted, never being able to tell his baby no. Warm hands picking up your thigh enough to slide himself in, your lips parting, whimpers coming out as he pulled you down on his cock. 

“Here, Baby. It’s okay… just relax…” he softly groaned as you complied, not wanting to upset him. Letting your body be limp as he started to rock his hips back and forth, 

“There's my good girl, lemme do the work, okay sweetheart? You did such a good job, let daddy take over.” He mumbled into your shoulder as his arm wrapped around you tighter, pulling you to his chest.

Eyes opening fully, the dim alarm light shining on your body covered in a sheen of sweat. You loved how easily he could make you feel good, even on the verge of sleep, warm and quiet in the early hours of the morning. All it took was him mumbling out some praise and the feeling of your cervix getting gently bruised to cum.

“That’s it, baby, god you’re so tight…..I’m gonna cum, love.”

Moving faster as your shared orgasm built, his balls swelling as you tightened around him, panting out. Tongue lolling as silent moans left your mouth, clenching around him more as further around him as he chased your pleasure.

“Y-yeah… fuck… I’m g- gonna, cum, please… nobu. d-daddy please.” you begged, voice cracking as moans interrupted your words.

The feeling of his heat against your back, being completely helpless at his pace, taking him further and further to his release. Vision going black as your eyes rolled back, body shaking as he thrust himself deeper, pleasure overtaking your body as his cum was fucked into you, gasps escaping your mouth. Your body tingling as he finally let you come down from your high.

The weight of your leaning on his arm, the softness of your skin as he rested his head there. Nothing bothering him if you were in his arms, not feeling this at ease in almost a month, the only thing that mattered was cradled against his body. 

“You’re good baby. S’okay, just relax now.”

A small hum left your lips as you pushed yourself into him more. Feeling so comfy and safe here, relaxed against his bare chest, his thick cock stretching you out even soft. Letting yourself relax in his hold as you collapsed next to him.

The room is quiet besides your small breaths growing fainter, the wet sound of his lips against your shoulder, feeling his messy hair tickle you. Your eyes are closed but his aren't, looking at you with a faded look of fondness, head curling into your neck.

He felt the moment you passed out again, your chest rising lighter. Worn out, all the tension drained from you what little tension had remained in him. The only way he could fully rest was with you in his arms, curling into him as he held you tight, nothing was even worth thinking of besides you.

[ur-riddikulus]

Fear and Cuddles (Thor Odinson)

Pairing: Thor x Y/N.

Summary: You are afraid of storms and go into Thor’s room one night because he calms you down. Then he figures out and forces you to admit this to him.

Warnings: Just pure fluff and the obviousness of them loving each other and needing to get together. This may suck but honestly it’s just meant to be a short cute story.

As another roll of thunder shook the compound, you buried yourself under more covers. You were shaking in fear, the lightning flashing across the sky. 

It was probably around 2 or 3 am, but honestly you didn’t know. Fear was weird, making the hours start to blend together at this point. But it could have also just been exhaustion. You hadn’t been able to sleep all night, too afraid to from the raging storm outside.

Screw this, I’m an Avenger for God’s sake, I can deal with one storm. You thought to yourself, but that confidence immediately left when moments later, another round of lightning streaked across the sky.

Everyone was probably calmly asleep, with not a care in the world. You have never been more envious of your team mates. You were so, so tired and had a long day tomorrow, but sleep wasn’t even an option with your anxiety through the roof all night.

Your heart was beating so fast you thought you were having a stroke. Maybe I’m dying? You thought. At least it would take you out of your misery. After all, you can’t be scared when you’re dead. But even you were not that lucky, you supposed.

You had been battling yourself since the storm had started. Should you go to Thor’s room or not? You haven’t because it was so embarrassing, what adult was terrified of storms? But you had been friends for years, and he was just across the halls. He helped you through everything and you were too scared to be alone right now.

“No, I am not a child. I’ll be fine right here.” You promised yourself for the umpteenth time. You were resolved, you weren’t going to run into his room and bother him with something as dumb as your ridiculous fear of storms.

But when you heard wind rattling the trees in the night and huge bolts lightning light up the night sky, you were a goner. So, being the coward you were, you finally had enough. You ran out of the room, your shaking legs taking you quickly across the hall and outside the door of Thor’s room. You knocked, just to be polite, but when you heard nothing you just assumed he was sleeping. So you just quietly opened the door, tiptoed over to his bed, and crawled into it beside him.

He was snoring, loudly and deeply. If you weren’t terrified of waking him up and of course, the raging storm outside, you probably would have laughed.

You were crawling into bed very slowly, pausing whenever he would shift or a break would come in his snoring. When you were finally tucked into his bed, beside him, you were enveloped in his smell. Pine tree, the smell of rain, and a scent that was just...Thor. You breathed it in deep, the mix of it all making you feel safe and protected from the violent storm outside.

Your fear soon started washing washing away and you could feel your eyes suddenly start to droop when he moved, turning in your direction. You immediately held still, careful to not move in order to not possibly wake up the god. 

He snuggled into you, holding you close and putting an arm around you. Then, his deep snores started once more. As awkward as this position was, it relaxed you even more. Thor was simply your best friend, nothing more. But you couldn’t help but be secretly glad that he was in this close, intimate position with you. 

You ignored the fluttering of your heart, guessing that it was just all the anxiety you had been through that night. You leaned in and cuddled with him as well. Moments later, thunder shook the compound the loudest it had all night, but you didn’t care. You were finally calm and sleeping, a faint smile on your face as you were tucked in next to the Avenger.

You heard noises before you opened your eyes the next morning. It sounded like a shower was being turned on. You ignored it and decided to go back to bed, snuggling back into the comfy covers. Then, before you drifted back to sleep, you noticed it. Thor’s scent was all over these covers. It made no sense, none at all. That was, until you remembered last nights events. The big storm, your fear, you sneaking in and cuddling with Thor.

You shot up, cheeks blazing from embarrassment. How were you going to explain this to him? The bed was empty beside you, so you knew he was in the shower. He had to see you this morning, you were hugging him like a giant teddy bear for God’s sake. 

You didn’t want anyone to know of your fear. Why would you? The rest of the Avengers went through hell and back and lived to tell the tale. They feared nothing. While you turned into a statue if you heard one roll of thunder. There was no way to get out of this. And you definitely couldn’t face him, what were you going to say? “Sorry, I am a huge baby and crawled into your bed last night because of a storm, then you cuddled me and I loved it and haven’t slept that good in years?” No, absolutely no way. You didn’t need to add even more embarrassment onto this already huge list of things to be embarrassed about. 

You looked at the door, wishing you could somehow magically teleport back into your room, where you were supposed to be. Maybe your friendship could survive this, of course considering that he even wanted to be friends with you after this, the girl who crawled into bed with him at 2 am without his consent. You could just ignore it, never talk about it, and with time, maybe it will be back to normal.

You were about to run to the door when you heard the shower stop running and Thor get out of it. The bathroom door was open, and soon you saw him saunter out of it with a towel wrapped about his waist, water droplets still streaming down his chest and v-line. 

Your eyes immediately opened wide at that sight. No wonder he’s a god. He was the hottest, most attractive man you’ve ever seen. Of course, as close friends you saw him shirtless sometimes, and you always thought he was attractive (I mean, you would have to be blind to not see it) but it never made you feel this...starstruck before. He was turned around, going through his dresser for clothes. So, you did the only thing you could think of it that moment.

You leaned back down and faked being asleep.

Sure, it was a coward’s move. But your pride was long gone. You already knew you were a coward last night when you crawled into bed with him. 

He finished going through his clothes, picking them out and you could hear the fabric rustling so you assumed he was getting dressed. Once the sound stopped, you felt his gaze harden on you. You had to fight the urge to not move while feigning sleep, but knowing that he was staring at you was making it pretty hard.

You felt the bed dip down under his weight as he got on it beside you and snuggled right back into you like the way you were together last night.

He moved your hair behind your ear and put his lips right next to your ear. You had to fight yourself to not give him more access to your neck, which was ridiculous. Why were you being so weird around Thor lately?

You felt him breath on your ear. “I know you're awake, Y/N.” Thor said in a singsongy voice.

Your heart dropped. How were you going to explain this? In your head, you knew that Thor was a kind and understanding person, but that didn’t mean you wanted to admit that you, someone whose literally job it is to face villains, couldn’t face a storm. You just didn’t want to get laughed at.

You sighed and opened your eyes. “Surprise?” You said. Maybe you could joke your way out of this mess. He loved jokes, and you knew that his big heart would trust that you weren’t lying to him.

He smiled his trademark dazzling smile and you automatically felt more comfortable, as you always felt when you were around him. You weren’t thinking about the situation you just got yourself into, all you could think of was, “Why wasn’t Thor the god of beauty? He certainly fits the job description.”

“Uh...thank you?” He said with a little laugh and a confused look on his face.

“Oh shit...did I just say that out loud?” You’re cheeks grew red and you started to hate yourself so much for how embarrassing you are

“Maybe, but I find it very endearing.” Thor replied, still smiling.

You had to clear your head, but whenever you were around him recently, you couldn’t. You shook your head quickly to try to gain any brain cells you had left. When you looked back up you saw Thor looking at you thoughtfully.

“So, not that I didn’t love sharing a bed with you, Y/n, but why were you in my bed last night? I wasn’t aware we had scheduled what you mortals call a ‘sleep over’.”

You swallowed thickly, quickly going in between answers to this question in your head. Should you say that you were possessed and woke up here? That you were just wanting to snuggle with your best friend for the night? You audibly sigh, you never were a good liar.

“Are you okay,Y/N?” You looked up at him and his worried expression. Thor was the kindest person you had ever met, and he never failed to make your day better. He didn’t deserve to be told a lie from his best friend. Especially when you know how much he hates lies, understandably because he was told them all the time from Loki, his mischievous younger brother. 

This was it. Were you going to lie and keep your fear to yourself? Or tell the truth and possibly bear the humiliation?

“Thor, I came into your room last night because I was scared. I’m afraid of storms and you always calm me down so I went in here to feel better. I’m so, so, so sorry. Really, it was-”

He cut you off by putting a finger up and saying, “Wait...you came into my room because you were scared?

“Uh...yeah?” “I calm you down and make you feel better, really?

Okay, not the way you thought this conversation was going to go at all, but at least he wasn’t focusing on your embarrassing fear.

“Yeah, of course you do. Are you not mad or something?” You asked. Why was he caring about that?

After saying that, then he looked at you like you were an idiot. “Why would I be mad? That’s the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to me. And many people have something to be afraid of, me included.”

You smile at Thor, just relieved that he was such a kind person. You had nothing to be nervous about, he would always be there for you. You were curious about him mentioning that he has a fear but then just decided that was a conversation for another time. 

“Thor, you are the sweetest person alive, I hope you know that.”

You both smiled and enjoyed each other’s presence. You were so grateful for such a great person in your life. 

Thor yawned before saying, “You know, I was going to work out but seeing you so comfy in bed makes me want to go back to bed. Want to sleep in?”

You give Thor a look. “Only if you make me waffles when we wake up.”

He rolled his eyes. “You humans and your weird breakfasts.”

You laughed and scooted over on the bed to make room for Thor. He got more comfortable and you moved back to cuddle with him almost immediately without even having to think about it, it was just instinct for you now.

You soon went to bed but before you fell back into deep sleep, you barely heard the comforting voice of Thor say, “I love you, Y/N.” before finally dozing off. Loud thunder could be heard once more in the room but you didn't care. You were finally cozy and cuddling with your favorite Avenger, his presence keeping the fear at bay. 

[painless-innit-colourful]

‘Get Comfy’ - Bench Trio Fluff

TommyInnit needs his best friend for comfort. Tubbo has a meeting. Ranboo comes to the rescue. (Set post-Tommy’s resurrection, pre-failed Dream assassination.)

“I’m trapped!” He cried out jokingly to Ranboo as he passed them to get to the ladder, and his husband laughed and continued on his way in response.

Of all the places in the world to be stuck, this was hardly even bad.

Tommy had appeared in the early hours of the morning on Tubbo’s doorstep in Snowchester, fingers blue and whole body shaking. Not only was he physically cold and vulnerable, but Tubbo could see the way his eyes darted about and the protective stance he held when he answered the door. He uttered: “Tommy? Are you alright?”, and that’s all it took for Tommy to collapse in on himself muttering and crying, and in turn that’s all it took for Tubbo’s best friend instinct to kick in. He brought Tommy inside, pressed him to change out of his wet clothes, made them both a hot chocolate, and then sat them on a window seat, where Tommy helpfully laid out the entire situation - bad nightmare last night, and he’d taken some damage on the way over - while they sat shoulder to shoulder, sipping on their drinks and watching a light snow fall fresh over the town. 

When Tommy finished his distressed retelling, Tubbo picked up the conversation, telling Tommy about inconsequential nothings like the stroganoff dinner they’d had the night before that went slightly awry, and Tommy added his own anecdotes about hairy cooking and whatever else along the way, getting calmer and more like himself the longer they sat. Eventually, Tubbo realised Tommy wasn’t chiming in anymore, and that’s because he had passed out on him, head lolled against his shoulder and nearly-empty mug slowly slipping from his hand. Tubbo took it and set it down softly, and then he put his head back and closed his eyes too, some part of him wishing he hadn’t slept so well last night.

He opened his eyes again as Ranboo reappeared from upstairs. "Is he asleep?" Tubbo asked him, to which Ranboo smirked. "I don't know, is he?" Tubbo pulled a face in response. "Yeah, he is." "So's Michael."

Tubbo looked back at the boy asleep on his shoulder and slipped an arm around him, shifting his weight to be leaning more on him. The rise and fall of his chest - like the waves in the fjord - reassured him that Tommy was back, not locked away somewhere Tubbo couldn't follow nor save him from. He'd had enough scares regarding that for one lifetime to make it anything but calming to watch his best friend's breathing as he slept, laying a hand beneath his collarbone and feeling the ‘thump, thump, thump’ of his heart. Stubbornly beating, still.

He could feel Ranboo’s presence over his shoulder before he spoke, “I didn’t think he could be this quiet.” “Pssh, don’t wake him.” They snickered together, Ranboo resting a hand on Tubbo’s free shoulder.

“Are you planning on staying there ‘till he wakes up?” Tubbo nodded slowly, and when Ranboo didn’t answer he turned his head to look at his husband, whose expression seemed an accurate depiction of a man who wished not to deliver some bad news. “What is it?” “You have that… town meeting at two. Which is in ten minutes.” “Shit.”

He’d completely forgotten about the Snowchester residents meeting he and Jack had called, somehow. They were searching for a missing nuke, and a relatively inconspicuous town meeting about security seemed the best way to open the discussion. Only, none of that would matter if he wasn’t there. Tommy seemed to grow heavier at his side, and regret curled around his heart. The chances of him being able to move Tommy alone without waking him were as slim as the chances of both of them making it to twenty. Not impossible, but not something to be trifled with. Unless…

“You okay?” He felt Ranboo squeeze his other shoulder, mild concern furrowing his brow. “Yeah, I just-” He indicated Tommy with a head tilt. “I’d rather not wake him.” He lifted his gaze, making eye contact with the taller boy and laying his free hand on his side. “I don’t suppose you could help?”

He watched as Ranboo’s brain caught up with the question, picking up Tubbo’s hand from his waist and swinging it back and forth a little absentmindedly. “Yeah, what is it?” Tubbo shuffled his legs a bit, hoping they hadn’t fallen asleep so he could get up. “Can you take him - actually, take my spot - without waking him?” By then, he’d positioned himself so his hands were under Tommy, holding up most of his body weight with one hand and an achy shoulder. Ranboo sprang into action instinctively (having a child will do that to you, he supposed), half-kneeling on the window seat behind Tubbo. “Yeah, yeah I can.” They conducted the change-over quietly, as Ranboo squeezed into the gap Tubbo left as the smaller boy propped up his friend against Ranboo’s side. There was a hold-your-breath moment as Tommy settled against Ranboo’s arm (and not his shoulder, because of the height difference), shook his head slightly in his sleep, and kept right on snoozing. Ranboo maneuvered his arm around Tommy, and then they breathed that long, sweet sigh of relief.

“Thank Prime.” “Thank Prime? Thank me, that was my expertise at work, excuse me.” Tubbo kissed him on the forehead lightly. “Thank you.” Then he scurried off to get his coat from across the room, and Ranboo realised his own predicament.

“Excuse me, Mr President-” “Militarist Commune!” “-Whatever. I appear to have been trapped.” Tubbo’s laugh was akin to a dog’s bark, and he quickly hopped across the room while pulling a boot on to the kitchen table, and then back to Ranboo and Tommy on the window seat. He put Ranboo’s phone, earphones and an apple into Ranboo’s hand, and then hop-stepped away again to find his other boot.

“What’s this?” “What do you mean ‘what’s this’?” Ranboo’s expression was pure bemusement as he looked over his stuff. “You didn’t have any plans for the next couple hours, did you?” After a beat, Ranboo replied with a simple “Nope.” Tubbo grinned mischievously. “Good. Get comfy.”

Ranboo looked down at the blonde boy currently curled up against his side, his breath wheezing slightly with every breath he took. “I- I don’t think he’ll react too kindly to- to waking up next to me.” Tubbo shrugged, his hand on the doorknob. “You have three canon lives.” His face split into a joyous smirk as Ranboo’s jaw dropped to the floor. “...Okay then.”

It took Tubbo a full ten seconds to recover his composure enough to speak again. “I’m joking. Mostly.” He pulled a perturbed expression for a second. “Don’t worry about it. He’ll probably make you swear to pretend it never happened. Or-” His eyes flicked down to the sleeping boy one more time, and he wrapped his arms around himself, like he was recalling the warmth. “Maybe he’ll surprise you. Bye!” And just like that he was gone. Ranboo watched him step lightly down the path, and relaxed. Prevent husband being late to his own security meeting: check.

Tommy shifted slightly at his side again, and he looked down at him as he attempted to untangle his earphones with one hand. In sleep, there was none of the shouting, or the weird guttural growling noise he made sometimes, or the insults Ranboo hoped were just friendly teasing. All of the tension had left him, and the lines around his brow from where he spent most of his time squinting or glowering were smoothed out. He looked so peaceful, so unlike Ranboo had ever seen him before. Tubbo’s presence had made him feel safe enough to calm down, to lower the shield and bring down the walls, and fall asleep with a mug of hot chocolate in hand. Their bond was incredible, really, to have survived wars and multiple canon deaths and a fight that was bigger than either of them, watched by the whole world. And Tommy trusted Tubbo to protect him, enough to pass out on him in the middle of the day.

The enderman-hybrid knew he could not compete with either side of their shared attachment, nor did he want to. But, he thought as he brushed a bit of lint away from one of Tommy’s eyes, if he could be even a little bit like that for Tubbo, he might find the family he’d craved as far back as he could remember. It wasn’t a memory, it was more like a feeling. Something that ran deeper than his conscious thoughts. A sixth sense, a raw instinct. To keep his family safe, however he must.

And if he could convince the strong-willed second-in-command as well? The more the merrier.

[wicked-mind]

Betrayed: Chapter Eleven (Path one)

Series Summary: Everybody thought Steve’s sister had passed away decades ago. But when you show up at the facility and try to attack Bucky, there are questions to be answered.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: mentions of violence

Series Masterlist

All Writings Masterlist

Note: There are two chapter elevens. One is a light path and one is a little darker. I’ll decide which way to go based on your opinion so let me know which one you like better (:

*gifs not mine

Chapter eleven - You and I

The more time Y/N spent alone, the more time she had with her thoughts. She tried to process what the hallucination of herself had said and every time she thought about it, it frightened her at the reality of the situation. With her inability to sleep and the fear filled thoughts that circled her head, it had became more difficult for Y/N to control the rage that was set inside of her. There had been a few incidents were Y/N would be thrown into a rage after being alone in her thoughts, but Bucky was always there to pull her out of it and calm her down.

Y/N laid in her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her arm was tucked behind her head as she was lost in her own thoughts. Her brain raced a million miles an hour. She couldn’t forget about the hallucination of herself. Y/N was trying to determine if it was the venom causing the words the hallucination said or if it was something deeper in her. What if after all the decades of trauma a psychopath had grown inside of her? If Hydra and Dimitri really did train some part of her to be the perfect killer? She would be lying if she said she wasn’t scared. It terrified her. It made for hours of lost sleep and she had become distant from her brother and friends. The one who saw her most of the time was Bucky. He was Y/N’s safe space. When she was with him she felt safe from the words of the hallucinations that echoed in her mind. When she was around him she felt like he consumed her to where the disturbing thoughts slipped away from her mind.

It was about three in the morning when Y/N finally dragged herself up from her bed. She needed to silence her mind. She needed Bucky. She walks out of her room silently and walks across the hall to Bucky’s room, opening the door to find him waiting for her. Y/N shut the door behind her gently, tilting her head as she saw him sitting on a the edge of a couch that was pulled out into a bed that hadn’t been there earlier, “You got a pull out couch?” She asks with a small smile.

Bucky knew Y/N would be coming in. It had become a daily routine to the point where he would just stay awake until she came sleepily stumbling in to lay by him. He felt bad that he didn’t have a bed, they would always just have to curl up on the hard floor. Even though Y/N never complained about it, Bucky wanted her to feel comfortable. So he bought a pull-out couch. Not too comfy to where it would bother him, but comfy enough where Y/N would be able to hopefully sleep soundly, “Uh, yeah. I figured we had slept on the hard floor long enough and deserve some comfort.” He said with a small smile. Bucky would do anything to let Y/N feel safe. He knew she was having a hard time since killing Dimitri, and even if she didn’t say why, he was there for her. She didn’t seem herself- like she was fighting something in her mind.

Y/N walked over and sat on the edge by him, “Not too comfy but not hardwood floor either. Good thinking.” She said with a small smile. She leans her head against his shoulder, her smile widening when she feels Bucky’s arm creep around her waist. His touch made her forget about her worries, everything melted away except him when he touched her. But somewhere deep inside her mind, she could feel a scratching still.

Bucky kept his arm on Y/N’s waist, smiling as he could feel her relaxing at his touch. He kisses the side of her head before pulling her down to lay beside him. He laid on his side so he could look at her as he stroked her hair, “What’s on your mind tonight, doll?” He asks curiously as he did every night. Usually when he asked this question, Y/N told him she didn’t want to talk about it and that if he asked again she would go back to her room. But not tonight. Tonight she actually spoke about it.

“My hallucinations after Dimitri… They’ve been echoing in my mind.” Y/N said softly, here eyes fixated on the ceiling even though she could feel Bucky watching her, “I don’t know how to make it stop. Certain parts of it felt so real, Bucky.” She paused for a moment, her lips parted as if she was trying to speak but couldn’t. Eventually she found her words, “I saw myself but it wasn’t me. It was the monster inside that Hydra and Dimitri created… She said she was always going to be scratching at the surface, waiting to come out. She said I liked the way I killed Dimitri, ripping his heart out.” She finally turned her head to tear her gaze away from the ceiling, looking to Bucky’s face, “What if she’s right? What if I have a part of me that’s a psychopath just waiting to come out? A part of me that liked killing?” She moves one hand to rest on her forehead, closing her eyes tightly at the thought. She could feel some sort of darkness stirring in her somewhere and it was taking everything in her to hold it back.

Bucky couldn’t help but frown at her words. He knew Y/N, he’d known everything about her since she could ride a bike. She was the furthest thing from a psychopath he could think of, “God, no, Y/N. You are a kind person that feels empathy for others and you are in control of your own mind now, darling.” He said, concern filled his voice, “You went through a lot of awful things but that doesn’t mean it makes you an awful person. You’re the best person I know, Y/N.” He said softly, leaning closer to gently kiss her forehead, “And you’ve been running on no sleep which doesn’t help. So please, just let me hold you and get some rest.”

Y/N kept her eyes squeezed shut and her hand on her forehead as she listened to Bucky. Part of her wanted to believe him. Everything inside her had always been good, she would never do the things she was forced to do in her time with Hydra and Dimitri. But it felt as though who she was trained to be was breaking through slowly chipping away pieces of her humanity. Y/N had gone through a traumatic experience that lasted decades and it had just ended. She was having trouble trying to figure out who she was now and what to do with finally being in control of her own mind. She never had time to rest since she dug herself out of the steel coffin, she could never be off guard. She was feeling everything all at once and it was overwhelming, “I don’t want to sleep… It’s worse when I’m asleep… I’m off guard, can’t make the thoughts stop.” She whispers out softly, her voice cracking slightly, “I can feel the darkness in my bones, Bucky. Everything they made me into is still there wanting to come out and I’m getting so tired of holding it back. That part of me is in me waiting for an opportunity to come out. I can’t let it out, I can’t rest.”

Bucky sat up slightly, leaning on his arm to get a better look at Y/N even though she had part of her face covered with her hand, “Hey, hey.” He said gently, his eyebrows pulling together in concern the way she spoke, “Y/N look at me.” He told her, prying her hand away from her face then cupping her cheeks in his palms. He planted a soft kiss on Y/N’s forehead, “I’m here to help you. I know what it’s like to have those demons constantly on your mind but you’re strong enough to get through this.”

Y/N looked at Bucky, her red eyes showing nothing but fear, “I’m not strong enough Bucky. Somewhere in me knows that.” She whispers out towards him. The brim of her eyes started filling up with tears as she spoke. She had never told herself this, but she knew it was true as the words passed her lips.

Bucky’s frown deepened at her words. He couldn’t help but feel almost helpless, how could he help Y/N when it was her brain fighting inside of her. He had to find someway to help her, “I got you, doll. I’ll keep all the dark bits away, I promise. Please try to get some sleep for me.” He said, pulling her body impossibly close to his with his arms wrapped around her, rubbing his hand along her back. The best he could do right now was comfort her, help to try and keep the darkness in Y/N’s mind away.

Eventually Y/N did fall asleep in Bucky’s arms. She had tried fighting the sleep but just couldn’t fight it any longer while in her comfortable, safe spot in Bucky’s grasp. She could hear his heart beating inside his chest and every breath he took, anchoring her to real life inside of getting lost in her own battle with her split mind. In the morning when Y/N woke up she went off to have some alone time punching the bag in the training area, wanting to try and clear her head or at least process more about the war that raged on inside it.

Bucky had watched her go before wondering around the facility trying to find Steve. Laying next to Y/N all night, he thought of ways he could help her and he thought he had finally come up with one but he needed to talk to Steve first. Bucky eventually found Steve in the conference room going over some files, “Hey, Stevie. We gotta have a talk about Y/N.” He said as he took a seat next to the blonde man.

Steve looked up at Bucky curiously and slightly concerned by his comment, “Is she okay? Everything alright?” He asked. He knew Y/N had been having a hard time and was trying to give her the space he thought she needed, but now he was concerned he had given her too much space.

“She’s okay, sort of.” Bucky said, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair, “She says she can feel the side of her that Hydra and Dimitri trained in her mind wanting to come out since she had the hallucinations in the cell. Y/N hasn’t been sleeping much and I can see her breaking apart. You’ve seen the rage fits she gets thrown into, and they’re becoming more frequent. She needs a way to figure out who she is without all the trauma. And everywhere she walks around in this place… it reminds her of the trauma. She almost killed you and I in the kitchen. She killed Dimitri outside in a way she didn’t think she was capable of. This place is a reminder of a dark moment and she needs to get away from it for a while.”

Steve licked his lips as he processed the information. He had no idea Y/N was having that difficult of a time otherwise he would’ve tried to do more instead of just giving her space. He leans back in his chair slowly, “You sound like you already have a plan, Buck.”

Bucky nodded at Steve, “I want to take her somewhere with me, alone. Being away for a while helped me process everything I went through and figure out who I was without those words and Hydra. I think that’s what she needs.” He said, trying to gauge the reaction of Steve, “Y/N went through a lot and it all just came to a stop when she killed Dimitri. She doesn’t remember who she is other than a monster that did horrible things and she doesn’t know how to process her life without the fear of becoming that again.”

Steve stared at Bucky for a minute, not knowing how he felt about the plan of his sister leaving the safety of the facility and also leaving him, “Where do you want to take her? Wakanda?”

“No, I think she will still feel connected if I take her there. She needs somewhere new, remote.” Bucky said shaking his head, “When I was away regaining my memories before the accords, I stayed in this abandoned cabin for a little bit. Cleaned it up. I’d like to take her there away from people so she can sort out her thoughts without being a danger to others.”

Steve nodded, pursing his lips together at the idea. He didn’t like it but wondered if it was the best option, “I want to talk to her, see where she is mentally.” He decided as he stood. He needed to see for himself how true Bucky’s words were about Y/N. Steve and Bucky made their way down to the training room, looking through the glass door at Y/N.

Y/N didn’t notice Bucky and Steve watching her, focused on the bag in front of her. She was angry and taking it out on bag after bag, building a pile next to her of broken bags. Her punches quicken, slamming loudly against the leather in front of her. Y/N was angry at what happened to her, angry that she felt like a monster, angry that there may be a psychopath somewhere in her mind that was trained to kill and placed there by Hydra. She let out a loud yell as she punched the bag with all her strength, causing the chain that held it up to snap and send it flying against the glass door, cracking the glass.

Steve and Bucky both flinched as the bag cracked the glass door in front of them, sharing a look before returning their gaze to Y/N. The way she looked was different, her face was twisted into an angry look and her eyes looked more red than usual reflecting the same anger that showed on her features. Steve opened the cracked door, walking towards Y/N with Bucky at his side.

“What?!” Y/N practically yelled at the two as they entered. Her voice was thick with anger that she wasn’t in control of. Her red eyes had darkened almost in an evil sense as if she was lost in her rage.

Steve sighed, seeing what Bucky meant by Y/N being unstable due to the rage and what was going on inside her head, “Y/N, I think it would be a good idea if you and Bucky went away for a while. He wants to help you sort out some things.” He said cautiously, trying to gauge if his sister was angry enough to send him flying into the glass door next.

Y/N’s eyes flickered between Bucky and Steve at the idea, her fingers wiggling as she thought about what he said, “Whatever you two want. At least it’ll get me away from therapy.” She said, her voice still filled with slight anger. She walks passed the two, not making eye contact as she did. She was determined to return to her bedroom to be alone.

Once she was out of the room, Bucky looked at Steve, “I told you Steve, she’s losing it. I have to help her.”

Steve nodded, looking at the cracks on the glass door, “I can’t believe I missed that…” He said softly, “I’ll make sure to have a jet ready for you with supplies. Let me know when you guys are leaving so I can say goodbye. And Buck, please take care of her.”

Bucky gave Steve a half smile, “I’ll always take care of her, you know that. And hopefully we won’t be gone too long.” He said with a pat on Steve’s shoulder before going to follow Y/N to see if he can help calm her down as he usually did. Bucky found her in her bedroom, pacing back and forth in front of the window, “Hey, doll.” He said simply, walking over to her slowly. When she didn’t reply and kept pacing, he sighed and grabbed her arm to make her stop, “Hey, look at me. What’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours?”

Y/N looked at Bucky as he grabbed her arm, lightly scoffing at the term ‘beautiful brain.’ She didn’t believe that right now, her brain was a war zone that she couldn’t escape. She remembered everything Hydra and Dimitri made her do, every kill and how ruthless she was. And she knew somewhere there was a part of her that gave into that darkness when she was made an assassin, some part that liked it because it was easier than fighting against it, “I’m angry all the time, Bucky. Even when I’m with you, I’m not as angry but it’s still there. I’m scared of myself which makes me more infuriated.” She told him, watching him closely, “I’m a dangerous thing that was created to kill and I feel like I can’t keep running from that because I’m not strong enough to not let it out.”

Bucky listened to her, his lips twisting into a small frown. He pulled her into his chest, hugging her. Usually being close to him made her calm down and he hoped this time was the same, “I know you’re angry and you should be because of what they did to you.” He told her gently, “You and I are going to get away for a little bit, have some time alone from this place. Just you and I, doesn’t that sound nice?” He asks with a small encouraging smile as he looked down at her face.

Y/N bit her lip at his words, thinking about it for a moment. As Bucky held her, she could feel some sense of calm wash through her body. She nodded slowly and leaned her head against his chest, “You and I. That does sound a little nice. Maybe it’ll be good to get away for a little bit.” She admitted in a soft voice.

Bucky ran his finger’s through Y/N’s blonde hair slowly, knowing she as calming with every touch he provided her. He felt pride in being Y/N’s safe place as she had always been his safe place also, “I think it will help. This place has too many reminders of the things you’ve gone through with Dimitri and you need a change.” He suddenly smiled, “I’ll help you pack some stuff. And don’t you start thinking it’ll be all bad and boring. In a month it’ll be Christmas and we can have our own tree.”

Y/N couldn’t help but allow a chuckle to pass her lips, “I haven’t had a Christmas since the forties. I don’t think I remember what a Christmas tree looks like.” She mumbles against his chest.

“I’ll remind you, doll.” Bucky smiled, visions of everything he would do to make Y/N feel special and remind her there are more feelings in life than the dark and twisted ones she was stuck in right now.

____________________________________________________

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[kitsunesakii]

Experimenting, had fun writing this!

I wouldn't have it any other way:

"Great" I muttered, looking into the dingy hotel room, Onix pushing past me into the room. This day couldn't be any worse. Stupid hero agency. Most people would be happy to be in my position, I was stationed in a stake out with a local villain that was trying to prove that he had changed. A massive operation. My problem with it?

     First of all I was only chosen because I was the most expendable since I was not only a sidekick, but I didn't have a drastic power. He was a telepath, and since I was an empath, I was the only one that could be sent in that could keep certain secrets about the agency. But that's not why they chose me. I wasn't considered a super hero, barley looked at as a sidekick. People laughed when they heard about me, a girl who could distort emotions? Stupid compared to someone who could move brick and stone, or shoot lightning. I was the one they sent when there was a possibility of death. The only upside was Onix, he was the reason why I accepted the mission. He could switch from playboy to gentlemen to evil in three seconds flat. And while I can hold my own, it was easy for him to make my heart melt. Which was only slightly annoying.

     "Ah, we seem to have a problem"

     I was pulled from my thoughts as his voice echoed through the small room. "Only one bed dearest" he cooed. I stared at the room's bed. It looked cute, with a baby blue blanket with white pillows. In the corner of the room was a comfy looking chair. I tried to force down the red that was growing on my face, letting out a nervous chuckle instead.

     "I'll sleep on the chair" I stated, giving him a forced optimistic smile. This day was just getting better and better. He raised an eyebrow, folding his arms in front of his chest. Instead of watching him I pulled out my laptop and started hacking through the main frame of the building next door. I don't even know why they sent me, I'm no hacker, at least, not skilled like "Cypher" or her sidekick. And I was getting a headache, brought on by the lecture I had given before I was assigned this case. Don't forget that the only reason your here is because you are lucky enough to be able to force him out of your thoughts. It's the only thing your useful for. I grimaced at the memory, I wasn't really in the mood for being stepped on. And I was reaching my breaking point. Fast.

     "I'll just sleep on a chair" he mocked, a playful smile dancing on his features. It had been a while since I had seen him. The last time was when I worked with an insufferable hero people called "bolt" he had been the only one that took me on and only because I didnt outshine him. We had been assigned with a bank robbery, Onix had been there, along with about three other people. He had gotten the upper hand, just my luck, taking me into a room for interrogation. The minute I figured out that he could read minds I had shut him out. Instinctively fogging all my thoughts.

     That was the moment the agency realized I has some ounce of worth, Keeping the secrets safe. But Onix  hadn't gotten angry, didn't hurt me, just stared at me in wonder, in awe, a sight I never got to see. It made my stomach turn in knots.

     "Your gonna sleep on a chair, for 3 nights?" He sat on the edge of the bed, his teasing smile growing by the second.

     "Yes" I deadpanned. The heat in my face steadily rising. I guess it wasn't all bad, he didn't look down on me like everyone else did, or at least he pretended. I couldn't know for sure because he also instinctively  tuned me out of his subconscious.

     "I know I'm irresistible to look at but I'm even more fun to sleep with" he hummed.

     I dipped my head below the laptop screen. My face was burning, I wasn't used to someone speaking to me like that. And it was a bit annoying, it wasn't that I didn't enjoy it. it was that it could all be fake, and I was simply setting myself up for disappointment. I typed away at the computer, ignoreing his comments, it had been a while since I was asked to hack into something so complex, this was going to take me a while. I felt a hand drag down  the length of my scalp, onto the base of my neck. I went rigid. "W-what"

     "Shhhh, you get so tense, just relax"

     He traced a finger lightly through my hair, sending ripples throughout my neck. The pleasure ripped through my back. That was enough.

     I forced myself to stand, shaking free of his hold and moving to the other side of the room. "Don't, just don't" the surprise on his face was evident, as he also jumped to his feet, confusion seeping through his eyes. I felt the anger bubble under my skin.

     "Everybody treats me like crap, and you come in here and pretend and I just have had enough!"  I tried to breathe, tried to see reason, but I was so tired of it all. "I put up with it because I feel like I can maybe make a difference, and everyone looks down at me because I'm a bloody empath" I covered my face with my hands, feeling a hot tear make it's way down my cheek. "And you come in here, and treat me with pity" this shouldn't of been happening, I shouldn't of been here. My stupid emotions, his stupid good looking features. Two hand hit the sides of my shoulders, gently drawing circles on my skin. I wiped away the angry tear that had fallen, leaning into the touch, too tired to argue.

     "Do you think I'm giving you the time of day out of pity?" His voice was a whisper, and it was straight into my ear, I stiffened. "Over this past week I've gotten to learn a lot about you, I learned your power, how your looked down apon. But mostly, I learned that when you put your mind to something you won't let anyone lead you astray." He moved a hand, placing it under my chin. Tilting it so our eyes met. "Your beauty comes from the determination coursing through your veins. Your kindness comes from experience. And you patience is one of your greatest virtues." He paused, his gaze burning through my eyes. A dangerous smile resting on his smooth face. "And, I also noticed, that when your around me, your thoughts do this thing. Almost like a low hum. Almost like," he lowered his voice to a purr "you get flustered around me, and dearest? You have no idea how hard it is to keep my hands off of you~"

     with that he pressed his lips into mine, taking my breath away. His hands met my hair, and he combed through my scalp. Sending more shivers down my spine. I let the wall behind me support me, feeling all my strength leave with every small tug at my hair. One minute his lips were pressed against mine and the next they traveled down my cheek, riding the length of my neck. My breath hitched as his cool tongue grazed my exposed skin. He paused, moving back up to meet my gaze. I had held onto his shoulders, desperately trying to fight against gravity.

     He smiled. Looking at my fire coated cheeks. Tracing the tip of his thumb against my lip. His other hand still hypnoticly playing with my hair. "If you really think I'm going to let you sleep on the chair, then you don't know me at all" he teased, once again closing the distance between us. Nibbling at my ear. I let out a tiny squeak, unsure at what I was reacting too since his other hand was running up and down the length of my back, each time going a little further, causing goosebumps to creep along my skin.

     I moved my hands, gliding them down his shirt, feeling the grooves in his chest. My mind was hazy, all common sense and reason leaving me with every sigh. I didn't really know what to do, and he wasn't making it easier. Skillfully making every shift of his hands, every flick of his fingers, melt my brain more than the last. His lips met mine and I could taste the salt of his lips, feel the satisfaction rolling off of him. His hands moved down my front, rewarded with another small squeak from me, before slowly making his way to my hands, that were still absentmindedly tracing his chest. He held them in his, only then I was realizing how big his hands were compared to mine, suited with little cuts and bruises here and there. I breathed, taking a moment to pull his hands up to my face, studying them closely. Forcing my brain to stop spinning. He stayed quiet, watching me closely as I brought his knuckles to my lips, brushing against his hands, moving  them to brace against my cheek.

     "There so warm" I whispered, feeling him shape his palms to fit against my face. Still wearing the same smile that dug it's stare into my own. He stayed there a moment, his chest rising and falling quickly, sucking in a breath before settling his lips against mine once again. His hands moved, one taking residence behind my neck, and the other flew against my side. Making it's way to my hip, gingerly tracing circles over top of me, dragging his fingers slowly.

     He pulled me fully off the wall, startled, I braced myself against him even more. using his neck as a way to keep myself up, stretching flush against him. His lips were still planted on mine, I wouldn't have it any other way, especially considering I couldn't bring myself to speak. Instead, he hummed into my gasps. Skillfully holding me, just enough to feel his own heartbeat thrumimg rhythmically to mine. He lifted both his hands back up to my shoulders, fiddling with the front of the T-shirt I had on. The fabric smooth under his fingers. He said something, but I didn't hear it, between my heart ringing through my ears and my own breathing, I couldn't bring myself enough to hear.

     "Dearest? Did you hear me?" He didn't sound out of breath, making me jealous. I could barely speak. Instead, I shook my head, thanking God that I could at least have enough sense to do that. His smile only got wider, "I said, this is going to be a fun 3 days. "

[shunsuiken]

fluffy scenarios of kita, akaashi, and iwaizumi staying up with their fem s/o because she's studying for a big exam please & thank you

im serious when i tell u i couldnt stop smiling when i wrote this, thanks for requesting anon <3

kita, akaashi and iwaizumi staying up with their fem s/o because she’s studying for an exam.

—kita shinsuke.

kita is 100% the type of person who has a consistent sleeping schedule

like bitch will sleep at 10pm and wake up at 5am bright and early and fucking gorgeous

you’ll never catch this guy slippin’ (the inarizaki vbc will upvote this statement)

the latest he’ll stay up is midnight which means that hes going to take more of the afternoon and evening to study

you’ll be studying with him in his room and kita will make sure the surroundings are peaceful enough for you to study effectively

he never hesitates to help you with some topics you don’t understand for the classes you both take

sometimes gives you studying tips that are really helpful

you check the time just to see how far you’ve come- its almost 10pm

youre worried about kita because bby has to sleep and you don’t want him to stay up for you !!

“kita?? kita where’d you go?” you’ll call out, thinking he’s already getting ready to head to bed

but you find him in the kitchen and you smell... noodles??? you watch him pour them into two separate bowls huh?

“i know you’ll be staying up late so have some noodles to regain energy.” he’ll carefully glide the bowl over to your side of the table, his black-dyed hair tips were still damp from taking a shower earlier

oof sis were u that focused on ur work that you didn’t realise he went down to cook you sth??

you have your notes in your hands, walking over to the table and sitting down “you’re not heading to bed yet? you don’t have to wait for me yknow.”

he turns the stove off, bringing his bowl of noodles to the table. “don’t you still have a few topics to cover? let’s continue.”

your face goes :O but your heart goes 💓💓💓

unbeknownst to himself, he’ll casually play with your feet under the table while he asks you questions to answer omg :( hes so cute tf

youre basically having a midnight study date with him

he’ll also compliment you when he feels like you’re running out of energy because he knows it gives you energy boosts :”)))

—akaashi keiji.

i firmly believe that this bby is a master at all nighters and does them when necessary

so when 9pm or 10pm hits, you both are in the kitchen making coffee because you know you still have much more to study

you love watching keiji make coffee like sometimes you stop stirring your own just to watch him and when he notices hes like “😳😳 what”

and you just shrug “you’re cute”

i guess keiji’s not used to your random compliment bursts so he just //blushes//

and then u give him a kith because his cute face deserves it

youre also wearing his sweater because he has an abundance of them in his closet and you totally raid it every few days

you guys head back to his room and begin studying again

the night is tranquil and the house is silent, it truly feels so serene when you put aside the thought of your final exams

then you remind yourself of the reality and it feels like shit all over again

akaashi obviously senses your distress so he put a hand on your outstretched leg. the warmth plays with your cool skin, relaxing your nerves a tad bit

it was the little things he did that made u feel better and maybe if you squint a little harder, you’ll know he’s telling you “i love you”

akaashi’s gonna be finished with his coffee within five minutes LMAO hes a fast sipper

youre wondering how hes able to pull this off every few months but i guess everyone has their own secret super power no?

at some point you find yourself dozing off at 1.30

“you ready for tomorrow?” “absolutely not” pfft. akaashi’s gonna think. he’ll drag your ass to his bed so you can sleep properly and avoid straining a muscle

“get rest, love, you should at least be awake for the exam.” is the last thing hear before you fall asleep on his comfy sheets

—iwaizumi hajime.

lots of chaos in the beginning and thats because you two made a stupid joke about godzilla and now you can’t stop laughing like a dumbass  every time you look at iwa

“y/n look at me-” “PFFFTTT” its literally the middle of the night and youve probably awoken the dead 🤷🏻‍♀️ no biggie tho

lowkey makes it easier for you to study because you’re awake awake yknow?

iwa defs likes to take care of you. he’ll pass you a drink to sip on whenever it looks like youre about to lose concentration and asks you from time to time if you feel like youve studied enough

WILL GIVE YOU A MASSAGE but you tell him no because that’ll only make you sleepier

asks you questions about your exam material. he sometimes gets confused by the question because he doesn’t take that class

he actually finds it cute when you have to shut your eyes to think of the answer and when you open them, hes staring at you fondly

its like “😳 is there something on my face you porcupine”

DID I JUST CALL IWA A PORCUPINE

this will lead you two into tickle fights and iwa convinced (not really) you that you should have regular tickle fights because ENERGY and BRAIN AWAKE 👍🏼

“call me a porcupine one mo-” ok this is cute because he tickles a spot that is super ticklish for you and you look- omg- you look so adorable all smiley

back to the studying part haha oh no youre starting to get sleepy

but you don’t wanna sleep yet!! you barely covered enough but iwa’s been watching u study and hes pretty sure you’ve covered the entire book since you started earlier this morning

idk i just feel like it would be nice if you laid flat on his lap and he just asks you questions and you try to answer them

his touch is just very nice and makes you feel safe yknow :)

you end up dozing off most of the time but you do try your very best to stay awake pls stop ur making iwa combust

after fifteen minutes of questions, you’ll surrender, exhausted

“tired?” you’ll hum in agreement and he’ll flip you over just to carry you into bed, tucking you in

[ialwayscomewhenyoucall]

Next Time

I just realized I never posted this on Tumblr, so here it is...

for @buckybarnesbingo​ and @winterhawkbingo​ !!

by Lira (me!)

square(s) filled: BBB - K1 - knives; WHB - G4 - massage

main pairing: Bucky/Clint

rating: T

major tags/warnings: implied/referenced self-harm (more like self-neglect), massage, nightmares, angst, fluff, first kiss

summary: Clint's nightmares often drive him to the range in the middle of the night, where he pushes his body harder than he should to try to get rid of the images in his brain. When Bucky finds him there, both of them get rather more than they're expecting.

word count: 1741 (+834 in the bonus scene)

*

Clint sends his arrows down the range, one after the other, not even looking to see where they hit. He knows, anyway. He makes intricate patterns–spelling his name, outlining the targets, drawing the shape of a man then shooting it in the eyes, in the throat, in the heart.

It doesn’t help.

He feels the nightmare with every draw. The numbness, the cold calculations, the blind obedience.

The worst part, the part that makes his stomach roil and his head swim, is remembering how good it felt to obey. Blissful. Like putting on a pair of jeans he’s had for five years, washed so many times they’re worn just right. Like the first gulp of coffee first thing in the morning, singing on his tongue and zipping through his veins.

His muscles ache, then burn, but still he shoots, emptying his quiver over and over...and over. A tiny voice whispers if he can just shoot enough, if he can just fall completely into his body and out of his mind, he’ll be able to destroy his personal demons. Or at least exorcise them for a little while.

He lets out a hysterical giggle. Get it? Exorcise? Exercise? You’re a fucking genius, Barton.

When the noise comes behind him he doesn’t think, only reacts. He spins on the ball of his foot, bow drawn, aimed true.

Bucky doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even blink.

“I couldn’t sleep either.”

Clint lowers his bow. Too out of breath to speak, he just nods.

Bucky nods too, downrange. “Nicely done. Can I help?” Before Clint can answer Bucky’s unstrapping knives from their sheaths and flinging them toward the targets, black and silver flashing in the dimly lit range. The knives thunk home in the man-shaped target Clint made out of arrows–one in the forehead, one in the gut, and one in each knee.

He’s poetry with a blade. Clint’s seen him before, of course, but never like this, never up close and focused and easy.

“Nice,” Clint says. Or tries to. It’s more of an unintelligible croak that comes from his mouth. He tries to clear his throat but his mouth has gone dry, and it’s then he realizes he probably should have had some water, and probably shouldn’t have gone at the training quite so hard.

But he’d had to. Anything, anything, to get rid of the fucking nightmares.

Bucky’s face is doing strange things, and his voice sounds like it’s coming from far away, like maybe he’s standing at the end of a tunnel. But that doesn’t make sense, he’s only a few yards away. He reaches up to check his aids, only then realizing that his hand won’t obey, and that he’s lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. When did that happen? And how?

Yeah, definitely some water next time.

He hears Bucky and JARVIS going on about something, time maybe? Or hours? And then he hears something about water and that makes him open his eyes and hey, when had he closed his eyes?

When he manages to get his eyes open all he can see is Bucky. Bucky, kneeling beside him, leaning over him, giant anxious eyes staring at him. The look is all concern until Clint manages a weak smile, then Bucky beams. The only person Clint’s ever seen truly turn into a beacon of joy like that is Rogers, and that’s never been directed at him before; having Bucky look at him like that…

“You had me worried. JARVIS said you’d been training nonstop for nearly five hours. Without any water.” There’s a bit of reproach at the end there, but Clint focuses on the smile tugging at the corners of Bucky’s lips.

Bucky’s lips. He licks his own lips, suddenly aware how chapped and dry they are from lack of water. Suddenly aware that he’d like them to be softer, nicer, because maybe he’d like to use them for something besides speaking sometime in the near future.

And then Bucky’s arm is around him, pulling him upright, so he can sip from the bottle of water at his lips. Clint doesn’t remember the bottle getting there, but he just goes with it. Most everything seems to be going in and out anyway. Eventually he’ll be all awake again.

“Easy,” Bucky says, his tone low and soothing. “Just little sips.”

The water is the best thing Clint’s ever tasted. He tries to reach up to hold the water on his own, or at least help, but before he can reach the bottle he’s overcome by pain and nausea. He cries out, losing some of the water in the process, and almost choking on more.

Aw, water, no.

“Shoulder?” Bucky asks. His voice is still calm, still soothing, and even as Clint gives a very abbreviated because of pain nod he feels the effects of Bucky’s calm helping to ground him.

“Maybe I pushed a little too hard,” Clint says, avoiding eye contact. Bucky huffs a noncommittal noise.

After a breath of silence, Bucky says, “Let me help?” Clint’s eyes snap back to Bucky’s, looking for something in that mysterious blue. “Just trust me,” Bucky says, and that’s enough.

“I’ve done this too, you know.” Bucky, still holding Clint in a sitting position, eases him to the floor. Then, as if it’s nothing, he pulls his sweatshirt over his head. Clint’s somewhat thankful he’s wearing a t-shirt underneath, though in pulling off the sweatshirt the t-shirt rides up, and Clint is treated to an all too brief glimpse of Bucky’s bare stomach.

Bucky’s still talking, and it takes Clint’s brain some effort to go back to listening to the words instead of thinking about that bare strip of skin. “...elf too hard, and had to pay the price after.” As he speaks, still gentle and low, he rolls Clint onto his stomach, folds the sweatshirt, and puts it under Clint’s head. “Not much of a pillow,” he says, interrupting his own narrative, “but it’ll do.”

Clint closes his eyes and listens to Bucky’s voice, breathes what he suddenly realizes must be the scent of Bucky. Leather, metal, the oil he uses to clean his weapons, and–very faintly–chocolate. It’s a good smell, almost as comforting as the voice swirling around him.

“A hot bath would help, but this is better. Stevie’s always goin’ on about human contact and all that; and please don’t tell him I said this, but in this case I’m pretty sure he’s right.” And then Bucky climbs on top of him, straddling his lower back but keeping all the weight on his own knees, firm on the floor on either side of Clint. Even with all this it’s not until he feels Bucky’s hands on his shoulder that he realizes what it is Bucky means to do.

“Ohhhhh.” The sounds coming from Clint’s mouth are close to obscene, but it feels too good for him to care. “Buck, that’s…”

Bucky chuckles. “Again, don’t tell Stevie. Punk. He’s the one who taught me how to give a proper massage. Said I had to learn so when he gets sore I can ‘ease his suffering.’” Clint can’t see Bucky, but he can pretty much hear the eyeroll. “Such a drama queen, that one.”

“Thank god for Captain fucking America.” Clint’s babbling in between his moans, going on about Bucky’s magical hands and needing this after every mission because Nat’s hands are nice but are too small and the others are great but how do you just walk up to someone and ask for a massage? And every time Bucky’s hands touch the bare skin of his neck his brain just whites out, just stops, because it’s soft and electric all at once and he can’t compute.

But if he says anything odd, or if Bucky notices the odd stops and starts in his speech, he doesn’t say anything. He just keeps going, working the cramps and the stiffness out of his shoulders and arms and neck until Clint feels like he must be just a puddle on the floor of the range.

He doesn’t want Bucky to stop. He doesn’t want Bucky to ever stop. But eventually he says, “Bucky. If you don’t stop soon you’re going to relax me right to sleep. What’re you gonna do then, carry me to bed?”

As soon as the words are out he wishes he could draw them back somehow. Because of course Bucky could carry him to bed; Bucky may be smaller than Clint but he’s the Winter fucking Soldier. He could probably carry two Clints to bed and not break a sweat. But he’s here doing something nice, something he doesn’t have to do, and then Clint has to say something to maybe ruin it just because he’s all sleepy and comfy and suddenly realizing that he wants more from Bucky than someone to hang out on the range with or sit by on movie nights. Those things are great–but so are his hands, and his big blue eyes, and the way he makes fun of Steve while making it clear that Steve’s his best friend and always will be. He’s strong and sweet at the same time, and fuck all if Clint doesn’t want everything with Bucky...and when did that happen?

There are fingers in his hair now; not tugging, just a reassuring touch. When the backs of Bucky’s fingers trace Clint’s jawline he lets his eyes flutter open to see Bucky sitting on the floor next to him, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“I really don’t want to undo all that relaxin’ I just poured into your muscles,” Bucky says. “Think maybe we can save the goin’ to bed part for next time?”

“Sure,” pops out of Clint’s mouth before he even thinks about it. Then, “Wait, what? Next time?”

The fluttering in his chest is something new, something unexpected.

It’s hope.

The smile on Bucky’s lips becomes genuine. “You heard that, did you?”

Clint wants to jump up, but he’s still just a puddle. Instead he grins, asks innocently, “Is kissing safe tonight? I wouldn’t want to do anything against my doct–”

He’s laughing when Bucky rolls him onto his back and cuts off his words with a kiss soft as butterfly wings. They smile into each other’s mouths, and Clint’s never had a better first kiss.

Or second.

Or third.

*

Bonus Scene

-for @feedmecookiesnow and @elenorasweet, because they asked 💜

Clint blinks drowsy eyes at Bucky. “So. Are you gonna carry me to bed, or do I have to sleep here?”

His grin is lopsided and tinged with exhaustion, and all Bucky wants to do is kiss that adorable face some more. But he’s more in control of himself than that.

That’s what he tells himself, anyway.

Because he has to kiss something, he takes Clint’s hand in his and kisses his wrist, then his palm. “I think something can be arranged,” he says. “I don’t want you to wake up on this floor with a stiff neck. Or to try to get back to your floor yourself and trip over your own feet.”

“I wouldn’t–” Clint starts to protest, but Bucky silences him with a finger to his lips.

“Barton, you’re graceful as a ballerina with a bow in your hands, and damn near as pretty, but you have a knack for injuring yourself.”

“I don’t know what you’re–” Clint mumbles against Bucky’s finger. This time it’s just Bucky’s stare that stops him.

“Fine. I concede.” Clint’s wink is sloppy with sleep, and Bucky has to hold himself still again. “But only ‘cause I want you to carry me to bed.”

As if Bucky needs to be talked into it.

Kissing Clint’s palm again, he says, “Think you can wait for me to clean up? I don’t particularly want to wake up to a lecture from Stark about leaving my weapons all over the range.”

Clint nods. Bucky can see that he’s still pretty blissed out from the massage and the rather extensive make-out session afterward. Bucky’s pretty far gone himself; he’d gone from waking up screaming from another horrible nightmare to finding Clint at the range to watching Clint nearly pass out to feeling Clint’s muscles under his hands to feeling Clint’s lips against his own. Not exactly what he’d expected from the evening.

The knives go back in their sheaths–”How many knives do you have on you, anyway?” “More than the four I threw…”–and the arrows are returned to their proper place in the armory. The bow gets hung up as well; Clint tells him it’s just a practice bow, not one of his good bows. Those are upstairs. Apparently Clint is a bit of a snob when it comes to his bows. Bucky has to turn away to hide his smile.

“Alright, let’s get you up,” he says, easing Clint up to a sitting position. Clint’s not going to make this easy, he really is about half asleep already so isn’t helping much. His head falls forward onto Bucky’s shoulder and he makes a happy humming sound, burrowing his face a little deeper into Bucky’s neck.

“Can’t you help a little? I can’t even get my sweatshirt back on.” He’s able to grab it from the floor where Clint had been using it as a pillow but before he can begin to even try to pull it on Clint, showing far more alertness than Bucky expects, snatches it away from him.

“Mine!”

Even though he’s fair exasperated, Bucky laughs. “It won’t even fit you. Your arms are twice as long as mine.”

“Makes a nice pillow,” Clint murmurs, clutching at the fabric.

Bucky sighs, then gives in and kisses Clint’s cheek. “It’s yours then, sweetheart,” he says, and he knows then he’s gone soft for this fella. “Can we get you to bed, though? You really need to sleep.”

Somehow they manage to both get to their feet. “Now hold on,” Bucky says, and he scoops Clint into his arms.

It should be ridiculous. Clint’s got so much height on him it should just feel silly, like a toddler carrying a teenager. But somehow it just feels...right. Clint belongs here, in his arms, his own arms draped around Bucky’s neck. Clint’s heartbeat against his chest, his breath tickling his ear.

The walk to the elevator, the ride up to Clint’s floor, it’s all over so fast. Too fast. Before he knows it he’s easing Clint out of his arms and onto his bed.

His arms feel empty.

Clint looks up at him, biting his lip, like he’s deciding something. Bucky’s about to just say goodnight when Clint blurts out, “Stay?”

Bucky freezes.

“Not for sex.” Clint stumbles over the words, trying to hurry in his overtired state. “I’m too tired for sex anyway. But just...stay? I think there’s a pair of sweatpants in the bottom drawer,” he adds, nodding toward the dresser.

Bucky just looks at Clint for another full minute. Finally he says, “Yeah, and I’m sure they’re about three feet too long for me.” But he’s already at the dresser when he says it. He finds two pairs, pulls them both out, and throws one at Clint. “Wear something comfortable to sleep,” he says.

“Yes sir,” Clint says, only a little mockingly.

*

It only takes one night to learn that cuddles are a good defence against nightmares. Even better than time at the range.

[buckyjustbelikethat]

Stuck in the Past: 1

Title: Stuck in the Past: Part [1/3]

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You are a historian asked to help the Avengers take down a Hydra leader.

Warnings: Vulgar language, insecurity.

Word Count: approx. 2300 words

A/N: Hi lovelies! Here’s the first official chapter of the series, I hope you like it. I’ll hopefully finish the series by the end of the week since its spring break. 

Previous Chapter

It still felt a little unreal that you were currently unpacking your things in your new apartment in the avengers tower. You were glad you were safe, but you had never lived in such a nice place before. You didn’t need luxury, but when you entered your bathroom and saw the large tub you knew you would be sad when you had to leave this place at some point in the future. Sure, your king bed was nice, very comfy, but you were considering just sleeping in the tub. You took some extra time to put your clothes in your walk-in closet, though it remained mostly empty. Already in this extravagant bedroom, you were already feeling out of place. You were nervous to finally meet the team. Worried that if you already felt out of place amongst the inanimate objects, the people would be a lot worse. Sure, you admired the avengers from what you know, but you never invested too much in them, worried that they would turn out to be different than the way the media or history books portrayed them, especially when it was your job to be skeptical of those sources.

Tony told you to tell Friday when you were done settling in and he would take you up to the common floor to have you meet the other avengers. After you were done you let Friday know you were ready and within moments of leaving your bedroom and walking from your living space to the building’s elevator, you saw the elevator doors open to reveal Tony. “I hope you are okay with your room, let me know if anything’s not to your liking and I’ll have someone deal with it.”

“Everything is fine Tony, trust me, it is worlds better than anything I’m used to.” You said with a smile on your face. “Thank you.”

“It’s literally no big deal, this tower has so many empty bedrooms.”

You just nodded as you entered the elevator, and you were once again reminded of how big this tower was from the countless floor numbers displayed on a touch screen in the elevator.

“Everyone should be in the common living area, where I’ll introduce you, and then you can relax for the rest of the night and we will get to business tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” You say while doing your best to hide the nerves you were feeling, hoping you were as convincing as you wanted to be.

When you got the appropriate floor, Tony led you down a hallway into the living area, and you could see all of the avengers (well most of them anyway) all scattered throughout the large room.

“Alright everyone,” he said almost sounding like a patronizing kindergarten teacher, “this is Dr. y/l/n.”

You smiled at everyone and did a quick wave, “You can just call me y/n!”

Steve walked up to you first and reached out to shake your hand “It is great to meet you y/n, we are grateful you agreed to come help.”

Slowly everyone followed, giving their own introductions, but your breath caught at the last avenger to greet you. Bucky had stayed in the background while everyone introduced themselves, and when he finally started walking up to you, you immediately cursed yourself internally. You could tell after one look that you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from crushing on him. The pictures you have seen of him did not do him justice, he was gorgeous.

He offered you a smile, and you could have sworn your heart stopped. Which you know was a dramatic response, but you couldn’t help how much he already affected you. He reached out to shake your hand and said, “Nice to meet you Ma’am.”

The rest of the team had stuck with your first name, but the formality sounded so sexy coming from him. You had kept your composure until this moment, feeling pretty proud that you felt like you had one this battle of social anxiety. But the moment he spoke to you, you suddenly were at a loss for words.

After hopefully not too long of a pause you finally reply, “It’s good to meet you too.”

You averted your eyes from him, worried that he if he looked into your eyes he would be able to see your attraction to him.

“We were probably going to watch a movie y/n, do you want to join?” Sam spoke up after he sensed the ending of the introductions.

You internally thanked Sam for the distraction from your surprising emotions towards Bucky, “Of course!”

Thankfully there was an open spot next to the couch Sam was sitting on, which was across the room from the place Bucky decided to sit.

“Alright I have a question for you though, which will determine whether we can be friends” he said, but you could hear the humor seeping from his voice. “Do you want to watch a horror movie, or comedy?”

You didn’t even have to think of your response and quickly said, “Comedy, I don’t do horror movies.” You hoped that was the “right answer” for Sam, but after a day like today, and with people you just met, horror movies were not an option for you.

You could immediately see Sam’s grin. As he yelled “Yes! Ha, in your face Natasha. I like you already.” He said as he leaned over to hug you, and his energy was infectious.

You laughed, but apologized to Natasha hoping you didn’t offend her in any way, she just rolled her eyes at Sam in reply.

“Don’t worry about it y/n, don’t let Sam fool you though, you will realize pretty quickly how annoying he is.”

He just grinned as he chose the specific movie he seemed to have been hoping to watch. The movie went well, you think it helped to be in a setting like this soon after meeting everyone. You did not have to worry about saying the right thing, but you were able to see everyone relaxed and laughing every once and while. You already felt more at ease around the team, seeing they weren’t as scary as you had been fearing. Despite how welcomed you felt by everyone, Bucky was distracting you throughout the whole movie, making you simultaneously glad and frustrated that you said comedy. Bucky didn’t really laugh out loud at anything, he had more of a quiet laugh, and you would strain to hear it in the funny parts. Not having any idea Bucky was as enamored with you as you were with him.

The next morning when you went to the meeting with the team, you entered the room and were thankfully there were a few empty seats left while you waited for everyone else to show up. You chose the seat farthest from Bucky. Sam was in the room as well as Steve and you started up a conversation with the both of them, asking how there morning had been so far. You still felt so nervous to say anything to Bucky, you tried to include him in the conversation but the moment you went to speak to him, it was like all logic left your brain. You’d start fumbling over your words, but with Steve and Sam it was so easy to reply to their comments, always asking them a follow up question to keep the conversation going. They all were telling you about their run this morning, Sam complaining about how annoyed he still was that he couldn’t keep up with the two of them.

You laughed and replied, “Don’t worry Sam, I’m sure how you feel running with them, I’d feel running with you.”

Bucky felt so nervous around you, he was sure that he was good enough at masking his emotions to not make it apparent, but the moment you had walked into the room yesterday he couldn’t take his eyes off you. And fuck, when he first heard your laugh during the movie he had sworn he had never heard a more beautiful sound. Bucky knew he was screwed, because by the looks of it, he started to feel like you were avoiding him. You weren’t rude, he wasn’t sure if you would even be capable of that, but you didn’t joke with him the way you had already started to with the rest of the team. When you would speak to him it felt like a formality, a pre-rehearsed script void of any true emotion. He didn’t understand why, but maybe you were familiar with who he was, after all you were a WWII historian, maybe you were afraid of him, or didn’t find him as redeemable as the rest of the team tried to convince him he was. During the meeting with the team, he felt hypnotized by you. When you started speaking to the rest of the team about your research, he could see the passion behind your eyes. As the meeting progressed, he almost started to feel angry, not only did you have to be so beautiful and kind, but your intelligence was the nail in his coffin.

“How do you feel about y/n?” Steve asked him when the meeting was over.

 “She seems great, really helpful for taking down this guy.” Bucky replied, hiding his attraction towards you.

“Mhmm” Steve replied, his tone laced with skepticism that that’s all Bucky had to say about you. Steve could see the way he watched you, and he wasn’t blind to your nervousness around Bucky that showed that his feelings were returned. But he decided to not pressure Bucky into talking about it yet.

A few days had passed, and Bucky still felt like you didn’t talk to him the same way you spoke to the rest of the team, but he still couldn’t help himself from continuing to fall for you. In the morning the team was informed that you decided to cook everyone breakfast. Bucky laughed finally realizing why he had caught you asking everyone about their favorite breakfast food the night before. 

The team started trickling in and grabbing a plate of food to sit at the table in their communal kitchen. “I hope you like it!” Y/n said with slight nervousness but mostly excitement as you grabbed a plate yourself and then noticed that the only seat left was the one besides Bucky. Bucky could see the smile almost fall from your face before you caught yourself. When you sat down, everyone started thanking you for breakfast and complimenting your cooking. Bucky was surprised that when the team started having side conversations or were too busy stuffing their face, you decided to start a conversation with him.

“How was your morning Bucky?” You asked trying so hard to speak to him the way you talks to anyone else. Convincing yourself that though you know you probably don’t have a chance at being with him, it definitely won’t happen if your too nervous to even speak to him.

“It was good, how was yours?”

“Amazing, I really enjoy cooking, and I wanted to have a way of thanking everyone for letting me stay in the tower.”

“You know that’s not necessary, you are already helping us enough, you know that right?” He says with a compassionate smile.

“I know, but it’s still nice. Do you like the waffles? I made them for you, Steve told me they were your favorite.”

Even though he already knew the breakfast was made based on what they liked, the fact that you made them for him made him so happy.

“They’re great, thank you so much, probably the best I’ve ever had.”

You laughed hard at what he said, “You don’t have to lie to me Buck.” Catching yourself too late at the nickname you called him, hoping you didn’t cross any lines. You had heard Steve sometimes refer to him that way, but you weren’t sure if that was reserved to just his best friend.

He quelled your worrying when he chuckled as he replied, “I’m not lying, they really are great y/n.”

Once again, Sam came in to rescue your before you could make a fool out of yourself when he asked Bucky a question. This was the first time he had called you by your name and the way the it sounded coming out of his mouth made your mind once again draw blank. You really needed to gain control of your emotions.

When the team finished eating, you started to clean everything up. As you started washing the dishes, you heard Bucky’s voice from behind you, “Do you mind if I help?”

“Sure, you can dry them and put them away, I’m not really sure where they go anyway.”

“Sounds good.”

He grabbed a towel and started helping you, and when you realized they were the only ones left in the kitchen, your nerves that you tried to work through while at the table, were back. You no longer had the safety of the rest of the team. You had no way to escape him, you had no way to escape your emotions.

Bucky had noticed a shift in you again, it seems the tenseness that seemed absent while you were talking earlier returned. He suddenly started feeling insecure again, worrying that your nerves came back because they are in a room alone together, and around the team you maybe were able to trust in your safety more, but now your judgements of him had no refuge. He felt horrible, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but he kept to his words and helped you finish the dishes, they thankfully didn’t take much time to finish up.

You were avoiding eye contact with him again as you thanked him for helping you. Though there was a smile on your face, he felt like you not even wanted to make eye contact confirmed his suspicions that you truly were fearful around him, and he decided that from now on he would try to leave you alone.

Next Chapter

[imaginesandideas]

Sorry?

okay it’s so random, but this is a very short (1.8k worth of words) idea that came to me all of sudden, so - I guess it’s my first Diego fic aye? 🎉

WARNINGS: swearing, bits of ANGST and SMUT (underage please scroll down past this)

~~~~~

Living in the centre has its moments. Like shops and bus stops nearby, or great apartments. But there any days when you’d rather kill every single one of your nosy neighbours, noisy people on the street and everyone else who comes in your way.

Why? Cause you’ve had a long, tiring day and nothing went as planned, and all you wanted to do was to have a nice long shower, maybe eat some leftovers and go straight to bed to get some well deserved rest.

But no.

Apparently the universe and someone banging at your door at 3am were having other plans.

So you drag your already warmed up, limb body from the bed, and down the hall slowly opening your reddened eyes and cursing under your breath.

“Good fucking riddance! What kind of a blabbering asshole wakes up people in the middle of the goddamn night for no bloody reason!”

The door swings open and you’re met with the most pitiful countenance one could ever expect.

No, not a box of cute puppies but a whole 6 feet of shameless discourtesy. And missed calls.

“Well, well-“

“I’ll explain!”

“- Diego fucking Hargreeves kneeling at my doorstep at dawn. Unexpected, uninvited-“

“_____ please, quiet love. You’re alarm the neighbours.”

“ - AND, dares to give me instructions on what I am supposed to do.”

Your face is the epitome of resignation and anger, a perfectly sour mix of those two. Normally you’d just let him in, check if he’s injured and go back to bed with his arms wrapped safely around your curled up form. But it’s not one of those days.

“What the fuck do you want...” You speak up quieter now, but with just as much of exhaustion in your voice. Your arms crossed over your chest.

“You?”

“Cut the bullshit Hargreeves.”

“I’m sorry okay? If only you’d know you’d understand.” He’s also visibly tired but you can’t let this one slip out.

“Then tell me!”

“Here?” His eyebrows rise in the darkness of the hall as he gestures around himself.

“Yeah, could be here.”

“Can I at least come in?”

You take a deep breath before nodding and stepping back inside to let him pass. As the door closes you can feel his warm hands roaming up your sides but you shimmy out of his grasp scrunching up your nose.

“You smell.”

“Well yeah, I’ve been locked up for 3 days. That’s why I didn’t come earlier.” Your face twists in shock at his words. He’s visibly broken but he still tries to cover the whole story with guilt so you don’t ask further questions. And you just give up.

It’s way too late to continue any of this and you really just wanted to get those extra hours of sleep before your afternoon shift.

You bring your hands to your face to rub circles around your sleep deprived eyes and sigh loudly.

“Never mind. Clean yourself up, I’m going back to sleep.” You exclaim before heading back in direction of your bedroom. He doesn’t move though and you’re too sleepy to notice.

“Love you.” He calls after you, but you wave him off.

Once your body hits the mattress you’re gone. Your limbs mindlessly tangle themselves in the cold sheets, providing a much needed coverage.

When Diego finally turns the water off you’re long asleep. After grabbing a towel he comes to you, but stops mid-step at the door. Your chest is heaving peacefully, lips are slightly parted.

Somehow, in all of this madness, he found that fragile piece of happiness he wasn’t sure he was deserving of. It was you all along, and it took him so much time to realise that. So much that he was ashamed of himself.

Afraid that maybe his presence is making your life even more difficult. But maybe he’ll be able to repay you one day. One day.

But for now it’s still the night, even if the sun is already brightening up the sky, making it appear both orange and grey.

Throwing on a tshirt he climbs up to your side, curling around your sleeping form protectively. He watches your brows as they knit together in a dreamy haze. How your lashes flutter lightly, how the veins on your neck reappear with every intake of air, how your hair frames your face. Soon street lamps turn off and the sun is about to rise. But both of you breathe steadily together, snuggled, safe.

~~~~~

Some noise almost wakes you up around 10am but your brain has more sleeping on its mind. You can’t really protest, you’ve been up all yesterday and that idiot boyfriend of yours had you woken up in the middle of your blissful, undisturbed rest.

Your head and eyes are still heavy with sleep. Still half awake you keep your eyes closed, only covering your face with your arms for another half an hour. Chest raises, lungs are filling with fresh morning air, only you don’t remember leaving your window open.

Warmth spreads from your fingertips to your feet. Until it’s too much and you squirm, tossing and turning on your back before you abruptly come back to your senses.

“Di-Diego?” You stir sitting up on your elbows before your voice turns into a moan. From beneath your lashes you notice the growing smirk forming on his clearly occupied lips. He’s so pleased with himself he doesn’t even bother to answer. His mouth gently sucks on your clit, tongue swipes across your folds in a sweet yet torturously slow manner.

Classic Diego. But no, you can’t even think about it right now, he’s too good at it. Way too good for your liking. He nips, licks, gently bites on your thighs in the meantime leaving blooming, dark marks. You exhale another loud moan which only fuels his movements. It’s slow and sensual yet intense, enough to strike a match within you. And it burns, spreads from your core to your head and wakes all of your senses. You sit up completely and he pulls your legs up, over his shoulders, devouring deeper. Feasting on you.

“Uhh, Di, what’s gotten into you?” He pulls back with exaggerated pop, grinning.

“You.”

You roll your eyes playfully and in a blink of an eye he’s back at it again, sucking on your sensitive nub with newfound vigour. Your head falls back on your shoulders, eyes follow rolling back into your skull. His hair is soft underneath your fingertips when you reach out to tug at the roots encouragingly and he hums sending vibrations through your body. You’re trembling, losing your breath. Soon enough he notices that and adds fingers to stimulate your folds even more as his lips feverishly continue attack on your clit.

And like a bolt of lightning you unravel in front of his eyes, your shoulders tense just for a moment before relaxing as shocks of pleasure take over you. It feels like you’re about to sink into sheets, pillows and everything else. And it’s too much, your arms almost give out threatening to make you collapse.

Your fingers dig into the hair on his scalp and you gently pull him away, your eyes finally locking for longer than few seconds. Talking seems unnecessary so you shift to bring his lips close to your own. He takes the matter into his own hands yet again and climbs up over you to kiss you deeply. How could possibly not love that perfect mouth of his. You can smell yourself on him just as intensely as the soap on his soft skin. It feels so good it might as well be a dream, but it’s not and you pull away breathless.

“You need to shower.”

“Again?!” He whines in a raised voice and you laugh at how petty he looks like this. Like a disappointed puppy.

“Di, you smell like my cum baby. Don’t want you running on the streets smelling like my pussy.”

Your words cause his pout to turn into a toothy grin.

“Maybe I don’t mind smelling like my favourite pussy.” He whispers with that cheeky smirk of his before leaning down to plant a kiss to your sternum.

Smooth fucker.

“Still doesn’t explain this kind of ‘good morning’.” You lower your voice. “... after how harsh I’ve been last night. I didn’t mean that.”

“I know. But I’ve been a dick several times too, so I guess we’re even. Besides, I wanted to make it up to you. And that prison cell was cold and lonely y’know...” Your laughter fills the room and he smiles even wider, only semi-offended. “I mean it! I missed you.”

“You missed my ass, that’s what it is.”

“I missed those too.” He says squeezing your breasts before biting on your nipple through your shirt making you squeal. “And I love to pleasure my lady.” He adds and you playfully roll your eyes, though you know he’s being genuine.

Since you two got together he made his mission to prove you how incredible you are. In a way, he crowned you his queen. And even if that queen sometimes had to patch him up late at night, he still made sure to pay her back later with everything he could. In words and actions.

You reach up to kiss his cheek as your fingers stroke the skin on his cheek and temple.

“I love you Di. Even if you sneak up on me in the middle of the night like a fucking creep.”

“Love you too babygirl.”

You caress his cheek lovingly and he can’t help but get lost in your eyes over and over again. As if the world did not exist. Only you. Together.

“I also love that perfect mouth of yours.” You tease and he immediately catches it. Two could play that game of constant innuendos.

“Is that so? Well, I love your pretty lips too.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-hm. Couldn’t stop thinking about them in that cell. And your pretty cu-”

“Oookay, that’s enough for now! First - breakfast.” You forcefully roll him off you before quickly jumping on your feet in direction of the kitchen, fixing your underwear in the process and leaving a chuckling mess of a human behind you. You could get used to having that laugh everyday in your bedroom. And such enjoyable mornings. And-

“I’m not hungry though.” He yells after once he catches his breath. You peek out the open door and he’s seated in the middle of the mattress, hands behind his head leaning on the headboard, all spread out and comfy.

“Is that so?”

“I mean, I’ve already eaten, so I’d much rather burn some more calories if you’re into exercising before breakfast.” He says wiggling his eyebrows at you. Oh he’s really good at teasing. But you’re in no way complaining. And mornings with Diego could just become your favourite morning routine...

[emmaniamh13]

I can make it better, I can knead you tighter

Summary: Yoongi has been working 24/7 lately and Namjoon has had enough of seeing his best friend resembling a corpse walk through their apartment door at ungodly hours. So he forces him to relax. Little did he know, Yoongi would find a more fitting stress reliever for his body but Namjoon really didn't need to know that much.

Tags: Semi-Public Sex; Rimming; Fingering; Anal Sex; Bottom Yoongi; Top Taehyung; Slight Dom/Sub; Unprotected Sex (Stay Safe Kids)

Part 01 ; Part 2

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The door fell shut with a loud bang. Yoongi just wanted to get to his bed he was too tired to care about making too much noise

"Hyung is that you? God do you know what time it-"

Namjoon stopped in his steps after coming around the corner

"Dammit Hyung!" he cursed lowly "Have you looked in the mirror? You look like you've been hit by a bus. Multiple times" he emphasized with a frustrated huff

Yoongi just shrugged and tried to move past the younger, not in the mood for the other to pester him about his habits.

But Namjoon didn't let him, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him towards the living room. Before Yoongi could process, he had been pushed onto the couch and locked into place by Namjoon's frame.

"I'm not letting you do this to yourself anymore Hyung! You're gonna take a few days off and if I have to imprison you for that to happen then so be it" he spoke while folding his arms in front of his chest for emphasis.

Yoongi just stared up at him bewildered, his tired mind trying to figure out what his friend and roommate  expected from him right now. When it looked like nothing more would come from Namjoon he felt like he needed to respond.

So he did.

"What?"

And he watched Namjoon deflate slightly

"Hyung" he whined

"Pay attention, will you? I'm not letting you go to work for the next few days that's what"

Now Yoongi had enough time to process and when the pieces slotted together, he literally jumped of the couch to protest only to be pushed back down by his dongsaeng, landing on the soft pillows with a huff

"Namjoon what the hell" he growled but the other just continued to block his way, unfazed.

"You have to promise me, you'll stay home tomorrow and actually sleep a little"

"The hell I will" the older threw back "I need to finish that project and you know it"

Namjoon nodded "Yeah I know" he answered matter-of-factly "but that project isn't due until the 20th and I know for a fact that you're nearly finished, so a few free days won't hurt" he stated

"Namjoon" he warned "Let me sleep I need to be out early tomorrow"

"You're not going anywhere tomorrow and that is final" Namjoon didn't move from his spot and his features seemed to brighten suddenly, and Yoongi sighed. That could only mean he had some sort of idea and most of them he's had, ended badly for Yoongi. Not that Namjoon didn't always have his best interest at heart, Yoongi was aware, but Namjoon's idea of fun and relaxation was quite different from his own- to put it nicely

"Except to a Massage Parlour"

Yoongi's eyes went wide

"What"

"You heard me. I'm gonna book you an appointment at this really good one not far from here. You'll love it I promise" he sounded excited but Yoongi just groaned

"Just please let me go. I'll try to take more breaks in between I promise" he started to whine, his body screaming desperately for much-needed rest

But Namjoon only shook his head "That's the plan and that's final. I'll drag you there if I have to"

"Okay. Okay I'll do it just let me get to bed. Please" if he weren't so sleep deprived he would have rather shoved his way through Namjoon's human barricade but well, that sadly wasn't the case

Namjoon lit up and immediately helped Yoongi off the couch to bring him to his room "Perfect! I'll ring first thing in the morning"

Yoongi only nodded slowly and waved him off, mumbling some curses under his breath as they walked into his room and as soon as Namjoon let go he let himself fall, sighing as he felt the familiar feel of soft mattress underneath.

He was out like a light.

He woke up to his alarm, groaning at the loud noise blaring through his ears and hitting directly against his brain.

A headache. Just great.

He didn't stop groaning, nearly falling off his bed in the process of trying to roll out of it. The all-nighters and dozen coffees probably weren't the best routine-idea he’s ever had.

He felt like shit. But he didn’t dwell on it.

He’s plan was to go to the kitchen to start his day with a coffee; the first out of another dozen he guessed; until he noticed that he couldn't. His door was locked.

Fucking locked.

Rattling at the door, he got more furious by the second. "Namjoon!" he barked "Did you lock me into my fucking room?" He yelled for him again when he didn't hear anything

"Yep" he heard the shout back

"What the fuck!"

"I told you, you're going to stay at home today and you agreed. Luckily I know you well enough to know that you'd try this" his voice sounded closer this time "You're going to stay in this room and do anything but work, then I'm going to drive you to the parlour. You'll feel better afterwards I promise. You're going to feel brand new in that worn-down body of yours" He was right in front of the door by now

"Open the door right now or I swear I'll-"

"I'm used to your threats by now so they're no use" Namjoon deadpanned "Go to sleep Yoongi or I'll knock you out so that your body has a chance to rest, you inconsiderate idiot"

"You can't just lock me in here! I'm a grown man and I can do whatever-"

"Yeah you might be but you're a man with absolutely zero consideration for the body you're inhabiting. So fuck off and rest for once.” he continued humorously “I'm going to work! See you"

---

He got pulled through the door so fast he didn’t even know what happened. All he knew was that Namjoon grabbed him, threw him into the car, drove like an idiot , nearly crashed into a fire hydrant, ended up here and yeeted him through the parlour door in a way Yoongi seriously started to question time, space and his life. All while managing to not utter a single word; which made the whole situation even weirder.

Namjoon was busy talking to the receptionist behind the wooden desk so all Yoongi could do was look around, analyse every nook and cranny just to find a meagre flaw to use as excuse and get out of here. He really didn’t fancy getting touched by a stranger; especially on areas that were anything other than his hands.

The reception desk was right at the front and beside it was a small, cozy looking sitting area. Past the desk led a hall to several doors on each side, probably various Massage rooms. It seemed clean and the receptionist friendly

Just like Yoongi had always imagined shops with services like this – basically using those he always saw on TV as his base of knowledge

Shit there wasn’t anything wrong with this place on first glance. And what the hell could he say anyway to make Namjoon let him off the hook?

The receptionist seems too friendly? The waiting area too comfy? The floor too clean?

Nope he was fuck-

“Hyung?”

“Huh?”

Both Namjoon and the receptionist were looking at him expectantly

“Mr. Park asked you to wait in room 4” Yoongi met the Man’s eyes then flickered shortly down to his chest, where his nametag read Jimin Park

“It’s the second door on the right. Taehyung will be with you shortly so just get comfortable”    

“Taehyung?” was that a name they used for woman nowadays?

Jimin nodded curtly, showing a friendly smile “Your Masseur”

Yoongi blanked for a second before he gave a quick  "ok” as response and hurriedly scurried towards room number 4.

The room was smaller and darker than the foyer but nevertheless it gave off a rather warm vibe, a lavender scent in the room hitting his nostrils instantly and soothing him slightly. In the middle stood a massage table with a hole in the top – probably to squeeze your face through. The rest of the room was just filled with a cabinet and a stool.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the scented whatever that floated the room. He was really nervous.

How does this work? Should he already strip? How many clothing items should he even get rid of? Or should he just wait? Jimin did tell him to get com-

Upon hearing the door open he nearly tripped with how quick he turned.

And then there he stood, like a deer caught in headlights, staring with shock-filled eyes at a complete stranger. A rather handsome one, he had to admit.

“So you must be Mr. Min” he spoke with a smile “it’s nice to meet you. My name’s Taehyung and I will be the one who’s going to be touching you today”

Yoongi wondered if this was a dream and if he should just punch himself in the face despite the answer to that, muscles seizing up even more, eyes widening in plain anxiousness. His masseur seemed to catch on to that, eyes also parting a bit further as he watched the display of sheer terror.

“Uh..” he started awkwardly “I’m sorry I thought I was being funny. You know, break the ice and..stuff” he grimaced, scratching the back of his neck in slight embarrassment.

Yoongi just nodded but not trusting his vocal cords to fabricate words right now.

He realized that this was really happening. Unless he pukes all over the room or faints right on the spot he won’t be able to get out of this. Namjoon is waiting right outside and if he makes a run for it - he'll notice.

Taehyung shut the door and began walking further into the room, heading for the cabinet and setting something on top of it- probably ignoring the way Yoongi flinched at the sound.

“So what massage option did you choose?” he asked with his back still turned

“Uh” Yoongi had no clue “M-My friend set me up for this so I- I don’t really know”

Did he just fucking stutter!?

Taehyung hummed “Ok no problem I’ll just check your profile” he turned to face the other, eyes meeting

And Yoongi was able to really look at him for the first time. He looked like he was in his early twenties, black, longish hair that fell over his forehead casually, a straight nose, full rosy lips, ears that could’ve been too big but complemented him perfectly and tanned skin that reminded him of honey.

He was brought out of his thoughts by Taehyung starting to move back to the door “You can strip and get comfortable under the towel. I’ll be back and knock on the door, just tell me if you’re ready or not.” He spoke calmly, grabbing the handle

Yoongi froze again “Strip?”

Taehyung also halted and turned around halfway “yeah for the massage” he smiled warmly “we don’t have a massive variety of massages but for most of them I need to be able to reach as much muscle as possible. Unless you chose a foot massage?”

Would Namjoon make such a fuss just over a foot massage? Nah he doubted that. So he shook his head

The masseur huffed an amused laugh “Well then I’ll need you out of those layers” he pointed at Yoongi’s black jeans and sweater with a certain glint in his eyes that Yoongi failed to notice

“Again, I’ll knock so just tell me if you need more time” and with that he left the room

So he decided to do just that. Strip

But to what extend? He didn’t know. And for him it was another reason to have another inner crisis.

Down to his trousers? To his underwear? Or completely nude? He just started to undress and by the time the expected knock came from the door he stood there in only his underwear, not knowing how much the young masseur wanted him to wear and he only had a few seconds to decide. All in or chicken out?

“Mr. Min? Are you ready?”

“Yeah just, just give me a second”      

and Yoongi just yanked the only clothing item left on his body down his legs – flinging it to the rest of his poorly folded pile and hurrying to the bed to get under the white sheet. Again he was overwhelmed with the decision of how much of himself he should cover with the cloth but he just decided to pull it all the way up to his neck.

Taehyung can fix it, if he needs to

Another knock resounded through the room “Ready?” And Yoongi heard himself call out a short “Yes!” – Probably a bit too harsh for a completely relaxed client about to get a massage

The door opened and in strolled his masseur with towels and various bottles in hand “I see you’ve made yourself comfortable” he spoke in a light tone and Yoongi just stayed quiet, not knowing if Taehyung was expecting a response.

“So” he continued, lowering his voice, perfectly fitting into the relaxing atmosphere with his fruity voice “I’ve brought multiple scented oils with me. Do you have any preferences or should I read them out loud and you pick or how do you want to do it?”

Yoongi thought about if he wanted to smell anything in particular right now but his mind was blank except anxiousness and the feeling of the table hole straining his face. At least he knew that he wasn’t going to get any extra wrinkles by lying here.

“No not really” he remembered to answer “You can pick if you like”

Taehyung gave a hum of acknowledgement “Alright. I can do that” From his position on the bed he heard rustling, the water tab running and stopping again. Footsteps followed – wandering from left to right. Then suddenly he felt a touch at his shoulder and he flinched, not expecting it.

“Oh sorry I should’ve said something” Taehyung apologized but Yoongi laughed it off nervously “It’s fine. I should have been ready for it”

With that the touch was back “I’m going to move the sheet to your lower back ok?”

After Yoongi consented he started lifting the fabric, Yoongi tensing at the feel of cold air hitting his bare back. “Good? I’m going to start with your arms alright?”

Yoongi noticed that Taehyung now tried to talk him through all the movements – Probably noticing his hesitance which didn’t take a body language expert to say the least. He confirmed another time and so he felt Taehyung’s fingers on him once again, slicked up with a rosy-smelling oil and starting to massage down the side of his right arm with a pressure that instantly soothed him.

“The pressure okay? Just speak up if you want it harder or softer” and the other only grunted, too lazy to move his mouth The masseur continued to stroke his arm, sometimes wedging his thumb into a knot below his armpit and eliciting a groan from the older.

Once he was done with the first arm he moved to the other to repeat the pattern.

“I’m going to move to your back now. Feel free to mention any areas you might have problems with” he spoke up again, voice low

“Everywhere” the other deadpanned

“What?”

“My back always hurts. Everywhere” when he didn’t get a response he continued “I work a job that requires a lot of sitting and -well – my friends like to say that I’m quite the workaholic” he elaborated further

“Alright” The masseur answered, sounding in thought “then with which part do you have problems the most?”

Yoongi mulled the question over in his head, thinking about different situations where he had to deal with back pain – which were a lot

“Well I think my lower back kills me a bit more than the rest” he chuckled drily “I have shit posture in general”

“Then I’ll do your upper back first and spend a bit more time on your lower back” the other suggested

“You’re the professional” Yoongi shrugged, which he assumed only looked like a light shoulder lift in his position but Taehyung got it anyway

So he started working his shoulders, feeling the other literally melt under his fingers and hearing him yelp once or twice when he tried to dig out a particularly tight knot. “Well even if you hadn’t told me about your back I would have felt it” he began “it’s like I’m massaging stone”

And he heard the older laugh for the first time, apparently finding the worrying state of his shoulders funny “Well it’s good that I warned ya then isn’t it?” he shot back playfully

Taehyung smiled and continued to press his fingers into different pressure points

“So what do you do for living then, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Uhm I’m a producer” came the muffled reply

“Oh? Impressive” he grinned “Well did you work on any songs that I might know?”

“I work more with Rap Artists so if you’re into that scenery you might- AH”

“Sorry” Taehyung apologized sheepishly, moving away from the base of his neck for the time being. “I do like Rap actually” the masseur continued the conversation “It’s not my main genre but I do listen to a few artists. So shoot! Maybe I’ll know someone” he encouraged

“Okay uhm- do you know Zico for instance? Or J-Hope? I’ve worked a lot with them until now” he paused, thinking “I’ve worked with DEAN as well. I don’t know if you might know him he’s more in the R&B scene -uh and I did a bit of stuff for a few kpop bands as well.”

“I actually know all of those artists!” The other exclaimed “Wow so you are quite the bigshot huh?” he teased

Yoongi chuckled “Nah nothing like that”

Taehyung hummed “Someone’s being modest here I see." He smiled "If I’m allowed to ask, how was it working with J-Hope? I’ve heard quite a lot about him, isn’t he like - one of the biggest Rappers in Korea? I mean, I’ve listened to his music and the lyrics sound so sincere. Like he’s telling a proper story, you know? I also love how he's not so stuck on Rap, there are quite a few songs from his that are slower, more emotional if that makes sense. I like to say I'm a fan”

Yoongi chuckled quietly at Taehyung’s excitement

“He’s really good to work with. Knows what he wants but is always open for change or another’s opinion, which in return allows him to try new stuff and see a perspective of things that he’s not familiar with himself. So yeah Hobi’s an amazing artist and an even better person. Not to mention a literal ray of sunshine so I enjoy working with him every time” he felt his mouth pull into a smile at the thought of Hoseok. He should text him again some time.

Taehyung's hands continued down Yoongi’s back “Wow you sound like you’re very fond of him. So I’m guessing by how you just called him that you know him more than just a co-worker? You friends?”

“Yeah. He’s the total social type so he gets on with literally anyone – well if he wants to that is. Even if you’re the grumpiest human on the planet he’ll get you to like him.” He chuckled breathily as the memory of their first meeting flooded his mind. God did he want to lock Hoseok into the toilet back then so that he wouldn’t have to hear his laugh every fucking 10 seconds.

Now it was one of his most favorite features that came with Hoseok, that made him - him. “I feel like we complete each other, as cheesy as it sounds. He’s so lively and I’m- well not that much. We’re complete opposites but I could never get mad or annoyed with him because I know that he always wants what's best for me. Fuck sorry that got a bit too deep didn’t it? Didn’t even notice I was rambling..” he trailed off quietly

Gosh was he friend-whipped

“You really adore him don’t you?” Taehyung answered after a while of comfortable silence

“I guess.. Again sorry, you didn’t need to know all that”

“It’s more than alright Mr. Min trust me. I asked didn’t i? It’s nice to hear about a person living a life in public; how he’s in private and not just how the tabloids portray him. How you just described him makes me instantly want to meet him.” He laughed

“Yoongi”

Taehyung’s hands faltered slightly “Sorry?”

“Call me Yoongi. After what I just told you I would feel uncomfortable if you keep calling me Mr. Min” he huffed “But yeah maybe if you’re up to it someday I can introduce you to him. He’s always excited to meet new people”

“I’d be more than just up for it” He answered quickly, smile seeping through his voice “So I’m done with your back is it okay if we move on to your legs now?”

“Right yeah” Yoongi felt the sheet being lifted from his lower back and settle lower, right before his back rounded into his arse. He realized that his breath caught a little in his throat at the mere thought of being exposed like that.

He had to admit to himself that he hadn’t gotten laid in ages due to being pent up in his studio nearly all of the time.

Damn, fuck Namjoon and his fucking valid points.

Plus, he had no idea why that thought just crossed his mind in the middle of a massage, when the masseur wasn’t even near an area where it would be acceptable to have thoughts like this. Not that it was acceptable in the first place.

And once this thought had broken through the barrier it had created a hole for more. And Taehyung’s hands really didn’t make it any better. More like the opposite, funny enough

The young masseur was now busy with kneading the flesh around Yoongi’s hips, pushing his thumbs into the muscles. Sometimes his fingers would slip a little lower- maybe a milli-centimetre under the sheet to reach the skin and that alone made Yoongi’s thoughts spiral

And it just felt so good.

Taehyung was moving his hands perfectly, with expertise and found just the right pressure for Yoongi to feel it through his muscles straight to his core. And that’s when he didn’t catch himself fast enough to notice the sound that just escaped his mouth. Only when Taehyung halted, did his eyes fly open in horror, realising how that moan just sounded. He knew it sounded dirty. But the other must have recognized it as a moan of pain-relief or something along those lines because he continued, moving his hands as if nothing happened.

After that embarrassing incident Yoongi made sure to keep quiet before he made another fool of himself. But that caution flew out the window rapidly when the Taehyung first began massaging tightly into his calves, then moving up to the back of his thighs. He spread his thumb and forefinger and slid up to where he had lifted the white cloth off his legs and back down again.

And sometimes – just sometimes – his thumb would slip toward his inner thigh and Yoongi felt it every time with an intensity, he didn’t want to admit. He begged Taehyung in his head to let off that spot. To avoid it. But he didn’t utter a word and sadly the masseur was no mind reader. So after a few times of slipping, Taehyung just gave up and just let his thumb slide freely. Over his inner thigh.

And yoongi felt himself twitch. Fucking twitch on a fucking massage table in a massage parlour getting a fucking massage from an unbelievable handsome young man. Yep these thoughts definitely made it better.

He cursed himself. He never guessed he would be the type to get a semi hard-on during a massage but his fingers were just. So. Good. The way he pushed his fingers into sore spots and how he dipped into his skin just to soothen it back out afterwards.

“Is it ok?” he heard the soft voice “You haven’t said anything in a while” Yoongi could just grunt hoping he understood it as the consent to continue. And he did, to the elders relief. It even seemed like the feedback spurred him on, his fingers digging into his skin a bit harder, drawing circles a bitdeeper.

And then his finger ground hard against his inner thigh and it caught Yoongi by surprise. Which led a deep grunt to escape his throat. But this time Taehyung didn’t stop and only ground over the inside more often, with more pressure – obviously noting that Yoongi seemed to squirm whenever he let his fingers glide over the skin there.

Laying on the table he started feeling too restricted, too crushed and he really didn’t know how he was supposed to get out of this without the masseur noticing. The said man started to switch legs, starting the same routine on the other. But this time he knew which buttons to press.

Yoongi had been fairly quiet throughout the massage but once he pressed there, he saw the other tense. Felt it.

And he liked it. The way Yoongi was trying to keep it together but wasn't aware of how tight his grip on the cloth below him had gotten. The way his moans sounded absolutely filthy and Taehyung couldn't stop imagining how sweet he would sound if Yoongi let him touch him. Properly. Because Taehyung wanted too. Really wanted too.

He knew this wasn't professional and normally he wouldn't encourage this. This has never really happened before. Of course he had clients that were moaners, or had fetishes that Taehyung really didn't want to feed. But Yoongi was different. He was rough around the edges and looked intimidating as hell. But he had the biggest heart for people that he cared about, even if he didn't like to admit it.

And he was just so fucking pretty. He wanted to ruin that porcelain skin the moment he saw it without fabric blocking his sight. And just the thought of tearing him down, to make him leave his tough facade so that he's only left with broken sobs and a chant of Taehyung's name on his tongue. Yeah. Now that's what he really wanted to witness

So the same process occurred, Taehyung paying more attention to the inner thighs and Yoongi trying not to drool or rut against the bed. But the next thing Yoongi knew, he was letting out a long, guttural, breathy moan, not even trying to hold back and he felt himself leak onto the table beneath him. The young masseur had decided to take both his hands and deliberately press and grind up and down his inner thighs.

He did it again, just to test, and again Yoongi couldn’t help himself; The moan escaped and his breath was shaky, desperately trying to get his act together but it was just so hard

“Taehyung” he groaned, half-biting into the fabric of his face hole

The other hummed in acknowledgement

“W-What are you doing?”

“Why. Don’t you like it” it wasn’t a question and as to confirm, he ran both his thumbs down the inside of Yoongi’s thighs until he reached the bed underneath with both, so close to his already painfully squashed dick but yet so far. Yoongi nearly whined at how sensitive he was but was able to not embarrass himself entirely - though a whimper still made it past his lips

“Taehyung stop I-I’m going to-“ another swipe; this time back towards his ass, grazing it lightly with his nails

“ghn”

“Seems to me that you like it Hyung. I mean look at you. Trying to act like you’re not half-rutting against the fucking bed” Yoongi’s eyes flew open. He hadn’t even noticed-

“Oh don’t stop just because I caught you now. But if you really want me to stop…just say the word” His voice was sincere; the complete opposite of his fingers that wandered further and over his cheeks, giving them a good squeeze and spreading the oil over his ass at the same time. Yoongi could feel the fingers wander towards his crack slowly and then hesitating

“Can I?” Taehyung sounded unsure

“Please” came his strained reply. And from there on he knew it himself - he was oh so fucked

[harlot-of-oblivion]

Midnight Delight

Vergil/Female Reader. This takes place some time after the events of DMC 5. The poem is from The Smile by William Blake. 

Hope you enjoy your ride on the thirst train!

Rated Explicit for Shamless Smut 

It’s pretty rare for you, a self proclaimed insomniac, to get any sleep nowadays. Between the always surreal dreams and intense nightmares, you occasionally find that sweet slice of peaceful rest. It’s especially hard when you’re alone. The only trick you’ve found to make your mind rest in record time is the presence of your boyfriend, Vergil. The devilish presence of that man scares away any nightmares that has a mind to plague you, only leaving peace of mind and dreamless sleep. 

But tonight is not dreamless. Vergil was having a late night patrolling the streets with his bother, Dante, so that left you alone to battle your mind for sleep. You resorted to another old trick of yours…wine. And lots of it. A bottle to be exact. It might’ve been a bit much, but you really didn’t feel like tossing and turning for hours until Vergil inevitably came home to you wide awake and utterly exhausted. You didn’t feel like playing that game tonight. So the wine flows until it shuts down your over active brain. You sloppily remove your clothing, right down to your silk blue panties. You don’t even shrug on what you call Vergil’s “house shirt”, comfortable clothing that Vergil only wears around the house in privacy because “it’s not dignified enough for public wear”. You just plop down on the bed, cover up, and pass out in a tipsy daze.

Perhaps is was the quantity of wine or the loneliness that prompted your mind to conjure an old fashioned sex dream…the kind that makes you tingle all over and leaves you wanton when you wake up. Barely enough detail to be called hard core porn, but just enough for your mind to comprehend what’s happening and enjoy it all the same. All you can make out is Vergil in all his naked glory, hair falling out of its perfect style, and eyes a molten silver as they stare down at you. Hips pumping into you in a delicious rhythm as his lips mark his favorite spot on your neck before trailing down to your breasts. A lewd moan breaks forth from your lips as his tongue laps at your nipples, barely suckling either of them. 

“Mmm…Vergil…” 

A deep sinful chuckle answers you. A few more teasing licks…and then his entire mouth encloses on one of your breasts and sucks. You keen as your head presses back hard against the pillow and your legs squeeze his hips closer to you, begging him not stop. “So good…oh, so good,” you whimper as his mouth leaves that breast and continues his onslaught on the other. His hips continue their leisurely pace, driving you mad. He always did like to take his time and prolong the pleasure for as long you both could stand it. Dream Vergil is no different. But that’s okay with you. It was always worth it. 

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

Finally, Vergil thought as he entered the home he shared with you, sighing as he shut the door and secured the lock. Once again tonight’s patrol was demon free and instead was spent arguing with Dante about the most mundane things in-between their bursts of blows with swords. He knew that they didn’t have to really patrol tonight. The streets have been relatively peaceful lately. But those nights have become sort of a brotherly ritual of theirs and Vergil cherished those nights, even though he would drop dead before admitting that out loud to anyone, even himself. 

Towards the end of the night his thoughts turned to you, the beloved rose that somehow bloomed within his prickly briars. How were you doing, if you were sleeping or braving the night until he came home and he lovingly scolds you for it, if you’re safe and secure. You keep telling him not worry about you when he left for work, but he couldn’t help it. You were one of few people precious to him. And he’ll be damned if he let anything like what happened to him in his youth happen to you. So it’s always a silent comfort when he can finally fully relax away from prying eyes with you. 

Careful not to make a sound Vergil makes his way down the hall, looking into adjacent rooms to see if you happen to occupy them. You are no where to be found, so as he approaches the bedroom door he quietly opens it and peeks in to seek your form on the bed. It seems she was able to fall asleep without me, he thought as he silently slips through the door. His eyes squint in slight disapproval as he notices a empty wine bottle. He gently places Yamato against the wall on his side of the bed before making his way back out of the room and into the kitchen to get a glass of water ready for you in the morning. He places it on the bedside table along with some aspirin he finds in the bathroom before he begins to remove his clothing and join you. 

As he removes his signature blue coat you lightly toss in your sleep, making slight mewling noises. Those sharp perceptive eyes regard you closely. A nightmare? As someone who knows the relentless suffering of nightmares, Vergil felt for you and lamented that he couldn’t do more to banish them from your sleep. He hurriedly removed his vest, wanting to wrap his arms around you as soon as he was able. Taking a careful seat at the edge of the bed he bends down to remove his boots. 

“Mmm…Vergil…”

His hand froze in their decent. Slowly, he lifts his head back to you. That’s when your slight movements make the blanket slip off one leg. Your aroused scent wafted into the air and hit Vergil like a summer wind. That’s no mere nightmare. All trace of blue leave his silver eyes as they darken in desire. You continue to lightly moan. Caught in a trance, Vergil gently reaches over and carefully removes the blanket from your form. It takes all his self control to not moan loudly at the delectable sight before him. You’re completely topless, devoid of his usual comfy t-shirt. The only thing you’re wearing is blue silk panties…his favorite. And even though it’s dark in the room, Vergil’s keen eyes can spot where you’ve soaked them through. 

“So good…oh, so good…”

Those words spill from your lips, a litany of pleasure filling the night air. It’s enough to break Vergil out of his lustful daze and take action. He swings over to the bottom of the bed and gently nudges between your legs. He lifts one leg and makes his way down until his mouth grazes the delicate skin of your inner thigh. You shiver and he can see your mouth form into an unheard moan. He pauses for a moment, taking in all of you in that moment. Your scent is heavy and completely surrounding him. Your soaked panties just a few scant inches away, the only thing separating him from a luscious feast. 

Then, without any hesitation, he bites down on your inner thigh. Hard.    

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

You awoke with a start, forcefully ripped from your sex dream and gasping in slight pain. Your vision is blurry, a consolation prize from the wine, and your mind slowly makes its way back to the waking world. You lay there for a moment, confused as to why you suddenly jerked awake. All you remember is Vergil and…Oh! Your eyes widen as you feel familiar wondrous lips suck your inner most thigh, the kind of attention that’s definitely going to leave a mark. Which can only mean…  

You glance down. There you’re met with a wicked sight. Vergil is between your legs, his usual coat and vest absent, leaving you with a tempting view of his back.  His sensual mouth is close to the junction of your thigh, staking their claim and his eyes…oh, those eyes from your dream piercing you in the darkness with the same molten silver. 

His mouth desists with their onslaught and curve up into a mischievous smirk. “Pleasant dreams, my beloved rose?” he asks, voice thick with desire and slightly cocky.

Silently, you look over to the bedside table and assess the time on the old fashioned clock stationed there. You raise a sarcastic eyebrow as you look back down at him. “You didn’t just wake me up late at night because you were jealous…did you, sweetie?”

He answers you with his own raised eyebrow. “Well, darling…you can’t fault a man from feeling left out,” came his soft reply as his fingers stroke your clothed sex agonizingly slow all the way up to your nub. You unashamedly moan, thrusting your hips up out of instinct. 

“Especially when beholden to such a tempting sight,” he tacks on as his fingers continue up and slip underneath the waist band. Still holding your gaze with his own he pulls the remaining barrier between you and him over your hips, leaving his snug respite for a moment as he drags your panties down your legs until they are removed. Vergil brings them to his face, breathing in deeply as his eyes continue to stare at you. His eyelids droop down, almost closing in sheer ecstasy from your aroused scent. The positively lewd action caused your body to shiver as you bite your lip and spread your legs invitingly wide. 

A deep growl emanates from Vergil’s throat at the sight of your lovely flower spreading wide…just for him. He tosses your panties over his shoulder and resumes his position between your legs, bringing his face to nuzzle the inside of one of your knees. “You’re going to tell me this dream of yours,” he commanded as his lips press a hard kiss to your soft flesh before moving to the other leg. “Leave no detail out.” Another kiss comes to middle of your thigh and he moves back to the previous leg, much lower than before. “And if you cannot meet my demand as I take my fill of you,” he said sternly as his eyes lift up to meet yours, pinning you with great intensity, “then I will deny what you desire and leave you to your dreams until morning.” 

Suddenly, he bites down hard on your thigh, mirroring the spot he marked earlier. You gasp out, relishing the slight twinge of pain as your core quivers in pleasure. Vergil releases your thigh with a lick and you whimper. His eyes are back on you, shining with dark delight and promise. “Understood?” 

You can feel your cheeks burn at the thought of speaking aloud about your dream…but how could you deny such a devilish demand? You nod, wiggling your hips slightly in anticipation. “Yes, Vergil.” 

Vergil smirks smugly. His fingers rub your leg fondly, the only sign of softness amongst this game of dominance that shows he’s pleased with your answer. Then, without warning, the tip of his tongue darts out and lightly grazes your slit from bottom to top, flicking your nub as he goes. You couldn’t stop the strangled moan that escaped your mouth, even if you tried. You heard a self-assured chuckle and you shoot him a frustrated glare. Vergil only presses his lips unbearably against your mound. “I’m waiting,” he warns as he hotly breathes against you and looks up at you expectantly. You take a deep breath and swallow down your nerves as you collect what sanity you have left for the task at hand. 

“I can’t recall how it started…all I remember is you on top of me…naked.” 

Vergil hums contently against you as he licks your entrance with the flat of his tongue. You bite your lip to hold back a moan as you continue. “You were holding my hands above my head as you sucked your favorite part of my neck.” He begins to stroke you at a languorous pace, being careful not to enter where you really want him. Insufferable man! It’s right then and there that you decide that two can play this game. If he wanted to hear every detail then you were going to drive him mad until he snaps and gives you what you want, dammit!

“I can tell you’ve been at it for awhile…your hair was down, swaying as you grind into me. Mmm…I remember that tongue of yours at my breasts, licking my nipples, teasing me how I like it until I beg for more.”

You chance a glance down as your naughty words fill the air. Vergil’s brow has furrowed into concentration and his eyes are closed, a sign that he’d truly savoring your taste. His tongue reaches for your nub and begins to lap at it, mimicking what you just described. Your hips jolt and you can’t restrain yourself as you moan shamelessly. Vergil locks down your hips with his hands, keeping you right where he wants you. His eyes open to look at you, awaiting your next words. Your hands grasp at the bedsheets, anything to keep you focused on your task.     

“And, ooh…I beg. Please, Vergil…please…until finally you suck my nipples, swirling and twirling your tongue as your cock is deep inside me.”

Vergil grunts at your words. His lips encircle your nub and sucks hard. Just like in the dream you keen, eyes rolling back as your head hits the pillow. You would’ve smiled at this small victory if it wasn’t for the sudden presence of two fingers entering your unyielding heat, shooting straight for your pleasure spot. You open your mouth in silent ecstasy as they begin to thrust. 

“So good…oh, so good,” you mutter, reenacting the dream for him. His tongue swirls deliciously as he sets a relentlessly pace. At this rate you’ll reach your peak before you’re done telling the dream. Despite Vergil seeming to enjoy himself as his mouth and fingers work you into a frenzy…you didn’t want to risk him fulfilling his promise if you fail to meet his demand. So, you resort to an old reliable trick…you stroke his ego. 

“Oh, Vergil…can you blame me for dreaming of you? Your lips, your tongue, your hands, your body, your cock…I crave it everyday. The way your mouth marks me, leaving me reminders that I’m yours. The way your hands hold me down as you take all of me.”

   As your words of praise spilled from your lips, Vergil breaths out in harsh pants, attempting to compose himself. His pupils are fully blown out as they take in your begging visage. His fingers begin to move in earnest as his mouth releases your nub and his tongue aggressively flicks it, silently challenging you to see if you can reach your prize. Not one to back down you move in for the kill, holding nothing back in your fanatic stupor of desperation. 

“Fuck…the way you know exactly how to unravel me, putting me at your mercy…keep me coming every night…only you, my heart. Only…oh fuck…Vergil!”

Right at that moment his mouth sucks in your nub and he gently, with expert control, laps at you with his tongue up and down thoroughly. This becomes your undoing as you felt that erotic pressure that was balled up inside you stretch and snap free, shooting throughout your body in waves. You feel your walls convulse tightly around his slick fingers as they continue to pump you, prolonging your pleasure as long as possible. His mouth never wavered from your nub, openly grunting against it as your hand finds its way to his head and comb your fingers through his hair as you voice your exquisite rhapsody at the top of your lungs. 

After what felt like hours you finally start to come down, head feeling even more light than it did when you awoke. You feel his fingers carefully retreat from your sensitive flesh, causing you to wince slightly and pout. A husky chuckle meets your ears as you felt him leave your presence. It takes you a moment to adjust your head and force your eyes to open. What greets you makes your body come alive once more in a instant. Vergil has removed his boots and pants, leaving him bare for you eyes to scan his perfect body. Those molten silver eyes stare down at you hungrily as he palms his generous cock, giving it a slight tug before he approaches the bed again. 

“Despite playing dirty towards the end…that was a captivating retelling of your dream, my beloved rose,” he remarks as his eyes leered at you, but the way his mouth curved up into impressed grin you knew he was just teasing you about your sneaky trick. 

You shrug. “I didn’t get very far in my dream and had to be creative. Next time, if you really want an engaging retelling…don’t wake me up so soon, Sweetie” you answer back cheekily, sticking your tongue at him. 

In retaliation for your smart mouth he lunges himself at you, engulfing your entire body with his and pinning your hands above your head. You lightly squeal as he goes for your neck and begins to suck it, shifting his hips to position himself at your entrance. You gasp and widen your legs for him, ready for whatever punishment he has in store for you. 

His lips cease their assault on your neck and trail up to your ear. “You have been very naughty…I give you the chance to better your oration,” he emphasizes his statement by sliding himself between your slick sex, the head of his cock teasing your entrance as it goes by. You whimper as he continues. “And after I reward you for your efforts you give me an attitude.” His hips pull up and slam back down, making sure not to enter you. You cry out in frustration. Against your ear you can feel his lips curl into a grin. “How ungrateful of you. Tell me…are you worthy of my cock?” He grinds his hips, his pelvic bone pressing against your nub as he’s so close, yet so far from where you want him. 

You whine helplessly as you struggle to get him to move, but he doesn’t budge. You’re completely at his mercy. You want to fight it, but your fanatic longing breaks your resolve. Your need for this man is clouding your mind, making every inch of your body hyper aware of his every move. He lifts his head and takes in your face, which is surely delirious with desire and devotion. He must approve because he grinds his hips again as he presses his forehead against yours, staring deep into your eyes with satisfaction as you mewl weakly. “Well?” he quips commandingly. “Don’t make me repeat my question, darling…you won’t like what will happen if I have to repeat myself.” He lift hips away, sliding himself almost out of contact with your heat. Frantically, you bring yourself to speak before he can pull away fully.

“Yes!”

“Is that so?” he snarls as he slams his hips down, taking the breath out of you. You nod unabashedly, willing to do anything to end this teasing torture. He laughs proudly at your actions, nuzzling his nose to yours as his eyes bore into yours, commanding your attention. “Beg for it.”

You sprang gave into action without hesitation. “Please, Vergil…I want to feel your cock inside me. Oh fuck, I need it so bad. Please, fuck me, Vergil. Fuck me ‘til you come inside me. I want you-”

You’re cut off by his lips as he claims yours passionately. You instantly open your mouth to his dominate tongue. You purr as you taste yourself on him, eagerly taking all that he’s giving you. Distracted by his lips you didn’t notice one of his hands releasing yours still above your head, reaching between your bodies and adjusting himself before grabbing onto your thigh and snapping his hips forward. You practically yelp as he’s suddenly filling every inch of you and your legs squeeze tightly around his waist, vainly attempting to trap him so he can’t leave your embrace now that you have him. Vergil grunts, sweat now visibly collecting on his skin as his cool and controlling façade slips a bit. Not wasting any time he sets a merciless pace, thrusting vigorously as he clenches his jaw to hold onto what shred of control he has left.

You encourage him with a delightful sigh, lifting the hand not being held down to caress his hair and scrape your nails against his scalp…just the way he likes it. This earns you a guttural huff and a sharp slap on the underside of your ass. Usually, he would chastise you verbally for daring to touch him without permission, but he’s too far gone and lost in your body. He brings your other hand to join in on the hair pulling before bracing it on the headboard up above. As your fingers make a mess of his perfect white locks he picks up the rhythm, staring down at you with hooded eyes that enrapture you with their intense gaze.

“Does my cock feel good?” he asks roughly.  

“Oh, yeah…you feel so good,” you pant back.

“How good, darling? And again…spare no detail,” he once again demands as his hand on your thigh begins to descend to where you’re connected, obviously giving you one last tease before he lets you come. Cocky bastard…but you’re too far gone to berate him. Instead, you keep your eyes focused on him and meet his challenge head on.

“Fuck…your cock fits me so perfectly. It makes me so wet. Only you…only you can make me feel this way. Oh fuck…please, Vergil…let me come around your cock. I need it. I need you, my heart” Your voice drops down to an ardent whisper as you say with all the sincerity in your heart, “I love you, Vergil.”

Lips crash down onto you as you feel his skilled fingers rub between your bodies, giving you the one last push you need before pleasure breaks forth once more. You grip his head harshly as you let out an all consuming euphoric scream. Faintly, you feel his cock engorge slightly, rubbing the epicenter of this mind blowing orgasm, which in turn causes your wet heat to clench harder. You distantly register a fierce roar as Vergil gets swept away with you, releasing his seed as he thrusts with total abandon. His face contorts in total bliss and you can’t help but stare up in awe, feeling pleased that you did that to him. No one can have this moment but you.

Eventually, you both come down from the rapturous wave together. Vergil gradually slows his hips to a halt and you release your vice grip on his hair. The cries of passion that filled the air are now heavy pants of gratification. You smile fondly as you feel him breathe on your face, your eyes too weak to open at the moment. Gentle fingers cradle your face, a thumb caressing your cheek as soft lips press against your forehead. His voice came to your ears, quiet and tender, as he expresses what he’s feeling at the moment.   

“That betwixt the Cradle and Grave It only once Smiled can be But when it once is Smiled There’s an end to all Misery.”

You lightly giggle in amusement. “Only you can get away with reciting romantic poetry mere moments after an intense orgasm.”

Vergil lets out a smug laugh. “But of course.”

His lips leave your forehead as you finally have the strength to open your eyes. They meet Vergil’s gaze, no longer gleaming with authority. A subtle blue hue has joined the molten silver as they glisten with tenderness. It’s another moment only for you, where he lets down his protective barrier, trusting you to see him vulnerable and relaxed in the privacy your arms. You feel your cheeks blush as you kiss his lips sweetly, pouring every ounce of trust and acceptance into it. Vergil’s thumb continues to linger on your cheek as he responds, letting out a soft sigh as his lips mold to yours, his tongue languidly seeking the cavern of your mouth. You gladly open up with no resistance, and you both just bask in each other, not wanting the moment to end. 

Eventually, it does and when Vergil releases your mouth his hips shift as he removes himself from your warmth. You let out a sad whimper at the sudden feeling of emptiness. Vergil smirks knowingly as he sits back and takes in his handy work. Your hair wildly strewn across the pillow, your skin glossy with sweat and thoroughly marked by his loves bites, and your womanhood…sinfully slick and already leaking his warm seed.

Utter perfection.

With a satisfied grin he hops off the bed and collects you into his arms. He carries you to the bathroom and together you get cleaned up. He lectures you on how idiotic it was to drink wine to get sleepy again and hopes the headache you get in the morning will finally teach you a lesson. You couldn’t help to point out that if he didn’t tantalizingly wake you, which quickly sobered you up a bit, then perhaps you would’ve learned that lesson. He retaliates with a decisive smack to your bottom and a growl.

“Then, perhaps next time I find you moaning like a wanton minx in our bed, I’ll awaken you with a bucket of water instead just to deny you the satisfaction of your dreams, hmm?” he threatens firmly as his hand lightly squeezes your supple backside. 

You pooch your lip out in mock annoyance, but then you sigh in defeat. “I know, I know…I just didn’t want to spend all night staring at the ceiling until you came home. Had I known you would be home early I would’ve just waited up.” You wrap your arms around his middle and press your ear to his chest, listening to his strong steady heart beat. “But you’re here now, and you’ve officially tired me out.”

You hear Vergil hum contently though his chest as he brings his arms around you in a short embrace. “Well, let’s get you to bed.” 

He leads you back to the bedroom. While he prepared the bed for a well deserved rest you make your way to the bedside table and drink the glass of water Vergil sweetly left out for you, taking the aspirin for good measure. It’s gestures like this that show he may give you a hard time, but he truly does care for your well being. Your heart flutters in adoration for the blue and bratty Son of Sparda as you slip beneath the covers and into his arms. As you lay your head on his chest Vergil gives you a goodnight kiss and rests his chin on top of your head.  

“May you dream peacefully, my beloved rose.”

“You too, my heart.”

And dream peacefully you do.    

Read on my Ao3

My Master List if you want more. ❤

[do-your-socks-have-holes-in-them]

precaution

what i should be writing: prompts what i actually wrote: thvi, for some reason

Summary: Strangely enough, Thomas can't seem to relax enough to fall asleep until his Anxiety is with him.  Or: traveling alone = stress = thvi cuddles somehow?

Warnings: mention of break-in/death/fire, and this is romantic thomas/virgil just to be clear cause i know some people arent comfy with that

Words: ~1k

Read on AO3

@notveryglittery bc you asked me to tag you when i posted this

Thomas lay in a hotel bed and wished he could sleep.  This was fine, he’d traveled alone before, it was fine.  Shouldn’t be a problem.  Only, what if it was? What if this time someone broke into his room in the middle of the night and stole all his stuff?  And what if he woke up while the thief was still there, so they killed him just to be safe?  He’d locked the door, though- using both locks- and his room was on the sixth floor. He didn’t need to worry about it.  …Then again, what if there was a fire?  Or he, uh… got abducted by aliens?

...Okay, really?  He sighed and rubbed at his eyes.  “Virgil?”

“I’m just saying,” the anxious side insisted, appearing near the door.  “It could happen.”

“I really feel like it couldn’t.”

“You don’t know that.”  He waved his hands vaguely.  “The truth is out there, Thomas.”

“I’m gonna… choose not to think about that right now.  Virge, I really don’t want to be up all night, is there anything we can do to…”

“Make me shut up?  Yeah, good luck, I’ve been trying.”

Thomas gave him a look with a strong hint of Patton behind it.  “I was going to say ‘help you relax.’”

He leaned against the wall.  “Eh, same thing. I dunno, I don’t think that’s happening as long as you’re in a strange place, by yourself, making yourself even more vulnerable than you usually are by sleeping.”

“Well… what if I wasn’t by myself?”

“Sounds nice, but uh… impossible?”  He gestured around them to the general area.  “Where exactly are you going to find someone who isn’t a total stranger?  Because if you’re wondering, inviting some random person off the street to share your hotel room would actually be worse than staying in it alone.”

“I was talking about you.”

“Oh.”  He still looked confused.

“I mean- you could just stay out here, and then if anything happens you’ll know about it, right?”

“I guess so,” he said slowly.  “If me being here won’t bother you too much.”

“Not at all.”  In fact, Thomas already felt better since calling for him.  It was strangely comforting to have his anxiety right there where he could see him.

As he thought that, Virgil blinked a few times, swaying.  “Jeez, you relaxed fast. Warn me next time you’re about to do that.  I’m just gonna… sit…” He slid down the wall and appeared to be settling in next to the door.  Like he planned to be there for a while.

“You’re not staying down there all night, are you?”

“I mean, if you want me to leave…”

“No!  I mean- it just doesn’t look very comfortable on the floor!  And I can’t see you when I lie down,” he somewhat whined. Being able to see him was important, how else was he supposed to know he hadn’t been left alone again?

He sighed.  “Well, what do you want me to do, then?  I’m not about to stand here all night, and- I can’t exactly get in bed with you…”

“Why not?”  Thomas frowned.  “I mean, you don’t have to, but I feel like we’re close enough… seeing as you live in my head and all.”

Virgil bit his lip.  It wasn’t that he had anything against the idea—the opposite, in fact; being physically near Thomas was the best way to know for sure he wasn’t in danger—but would it really help him?  “Isn’t the point of this to calm down?  Don’t know how well that will work if you’re in touching distance of your anxiety.  I might give you nightmares or something.”

“We could at least try.”  He patted the empty side of the bed hopefully.  “C’mon, I don’t want you sleeping on the floor.”

“Fine, but if it makes you feel worse I’m out.”  He climbed onto the bed and hoped he didn’t look as awkward as he felt.  Was he blushing? Feelings were stupid and Virgil was going to destroy them.

Thomas turned over to face him once he was settled under the blankets and smiled.  “I don’t think it’ll be a problem. I actually feel a lot safer with you here.”

Shit, now he was definitely blushing.  “Whatever, you were right, go to sleep.”

Virgil didn’t expect to manage any sleep himself that night.  In bed or not, he was here to make sure nothing happened to Thomas, and he couldn’t fall asleep when he should be watching.  But Thomas was calming down and getting sleepy, and that was making him feel calm and sleepy, and the next thing he knew it was morning.  The next thing he knew after that was the warm, solid weight against his side, and he looked down to see Thomas curled up right next to him, his head tucked into Virgil’s shoulder.  He was still asleep. Virgil smiled and put an arm around him before closing his eyes again. This was probably the least stressed he had been in a month.

Thomas woke up feeling safe and content, even if it took a few minutes to remember where he was.  Someone was holding him securely, and his head was on someone’s shoulder, and his hand was lightly gripping someone’s shirt.  Shortly after remembering he wasn’t at home he remembered that this was Virgil. Keeping him safe from hypothetical aliens… He smiled.  Virgil was so good.  Thomas’s half-asleep brain decided he needed to tell him that before passing out again.

“You’re so good,” he mumbled, cuddling into him.  “So good. Love you.” Then he went back to sleep, everything currently important taken care of.

Once Thomas wasn’t looking anymore, Virgil opened his eyes, stared at the ceiling, and screamed internally for a solid thirty minutes.  That was just unfair.

[sleepyverstappens]

My skin hurts without your touch

Title: My skin hurts without your touch

Pairing: Lando Norris/Max Verstappen

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: ~ 5.6k

Tags: Painplay, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, Barebacking, Coming Untouched

Summary: He knows this feeling, he’s become all to familiar with it during his racing career. It was part of motorsports, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating. Another DNF behind his name, when he’d had a pretty decent weekend so far, qualifying better than he’d expected even. He wants to forget all about today. Wants to feel the remnants of the pain inflicted tonight on his flight home tomorrow, rather than the disappointment of the race.

A/N: So this fic is set right after the Canadian gp (yes it took me nearly 2 months to write this, shush), which is the race where Lando's rear suspension gave out on him. It's mentioned in the fic as well, but that's kinda all the set up you need to know.

This is part of the Sink your teeth right into my bones verse (aka the painplay verse), so beware of the tags. This can be read seperately I guess, but yeah just know they have an established painplay kink in this verse.

Anyways hope you guys enjoy this :D

Read on AO3

They’d been lazily flipping through the channels of the hotel TV, before they had settled on some random comedy act on Comedy Central that they’re watching now, both of them in their comfies. His head is resting on Max’s stomach, jostling about every time Max laughs at the TV. He’s not really been paying attention to it though, his brain pulling up the scene of his abandoned car at the pit exit yet again. He’s been mulling it over ever since he had found himself stranded there, his rear suspension giving out under him out of nowhere. The team still hadn’t been able to give him an explanation of what had happened, all they had said was that it hadn’t been his fault.  

“Gotta piss,” Max says all of a sudden as he untangles Lando’s arms from around his waist and gets up from the bed.

“Great, thanks for letting me know, I was really wondering if you were gonna piss or take a shit,” Lando chuckles as he pulls himself back upright again, arms stretching out over his head as he yawns.  

He’s a little sleepy, the post-race adrenaline seeping from his body slowly even with his race ending so quickly today. He’d been restless though, every time he’d start to give in to the lull of sleep his body would jerk him back awake, making Max chuckle in the process as his limbs flailed about. His brain wouldn’t stop bringing up the sensation of the rear giving out on him, his adrenaline spiking suddenly as he tried his best to nurse his car to a safe spot.

His body has been itching with something else though, the need to ache. His body craving the impact of the crash that hadn’t happened. It’s craving the touch of callused hands pushing and pulling at his limbs until they set his body alight, the sting of teeth digging into his skin, leaving bruises.

He hears the toilet flush and watches as Max shuffles back out of the bathroom, his hand scratching at his stomach showing off the v-line there. He gnaws at his lip, debating whether to bring this up, this urge inside of him. Trying to see if Max could be up for it tonight. He knows this doesn’t just take a lot out of himself, it does for Max as well, managing to keep the right kind of balance between not enough and taking things too far.

He’s taking so long mulling it over that Max has now let himself fall into the armchair next to the TV, his fingers tapping away on his phone screen. There’s sound coming from the device as Max switches to Instagram, swiping through his friends’ stories.

“I want you to hurt me,” he finally speaks up, the sound on Max’s phone still playing as the other man looks up at him with wide eyes.

“What?”

“Please.”

“We agreed never to do this as punishment, as a way to punish yourself Lando.” And of course Max’s first thought is that this is about the race, that he’s blaming himself for it somehow, his mind twisting and turning what had happened until he somehow found himself to be the one to blame.

“I know, but I’m not punishing myself, it wasn’t my fault the car broke down. I just… I just need this right now Max.”

He’s sitting criss cross on the bed now, Max’s bed , tugging at a loose thread on the probably way too expensive bed sheets and he really does just need this right now. He’s not feeling sorry for himself necessarily, more so frustrated with today’s events. He kind of wishes it had been his own mistake that took him out of the race instead, because then at least he’d have someone to blame.

He knows Max had seen his car limping along to the pitlane exit, if not in his mirrors he would’ve seen it on the big TV screens lining the track. He knows his boyfriend somehow finds the time to watch those during the races. They had only just had some fun battles, Max passing him and him managing to overtake Max right back using his DRS and softer tyres. And then all of a sudden he was out, his bright orange car still at the side of the track for many laps afterwards.

He knows this feeling, he’s become all to familiar with it during his racing career. It was part of motorsports, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating. Another DNF behind his name, when he’d had a pretty decent weekend so far, qualifying better than he’d expected even. He wants to forget all about today. Wants to feel the remnants of the pain inflicted tonight on his flight home tomorrow, rather than the disappointment of the race.  

“Okay,” Max says softly, meeting Lando’s eyes as he raises from the chair he’d been sitting in. He trusts Max with this, to know when he really needs this, to not misuse this power he’s been granted. They have clear boundaries, formed unconsciously over the years and more consciously recently. It was difficult at times, to find the right balance, but they’ve made it work and right now he knows that Max will listen to what he needs, will know just how far to go.

Max walks over to the bed confidently, the soft smile starting to quirk up in a playful smirk,  and crawls onto it so he’s sitting on his knees behind Lando. And Lando feels himself lean back into him, Max’s hands heavy on his shoulders as he draws him close.

There’s the press of lips against his neck, dry touches as they work over his skin slowly until they press right behind his ear. He knows what’ll come next, but the bite of teeth against his earlobe still makes him gasp. He sighs out as the pressure disappears, Max’s sucking around his earlobe wetly instead. “Come on,” he groans, getting impatient already.

“Patience babe,” Max says with a chuckle, shifting around a little so he’s sitting up against the headboard, pulling Lando back against him. Lando’s body is pliant under Max’s skilful hands, his legs stretched out in front of him now as Max starts to tug at his t-shirt. He shivers a little at the sudden cold, but Max’s warm arms wrap around his waist quickly. His fingers trace over the scattering of goosebumps covering Lando’s arm, the touch featherlight and only making more goosebumps appear.

And Max is so good at this all, pulling him into a false sense of security, tricking his body, and then all of a sudden his hand grips around his wrist tightly, pulling his arm back roughly and making him scream out in pain. His breathing comes more heavily then, his teeth digging into his bottom lip to fight back against the pain. He can already feel his cock starting to twitch even though they’ve barely even started, the fucked up part of him rearing its ugly head after lying in wait for a while.

It’s not always like this. God it would be pretty fucked up if it were. No most of the time they were pretty fucking vanilla , complete with staring into each other’s eyes and asking if the other one was alright every five minutes. And as much as he loved that part of them, he would never get over the way Max would transform when they were like this. Confidence radiating off of him.  

His arm twists further under Max’s grip, his forearm now twisted up against his back,  straining just a little bit too much. His teeth are digging into his lip as Max keeps his hold firm with one hand and as the other hand starts to creep towards his crotch. He’s just got some joggers on, the shape of his cock clearly visible by now and he can’t help but buck up into the press of Max’s hand. The movement only makes his arm strain more, making him groan out in both pleasure and pain.

“Come on,” he bites out again through gritted teeth, sighing out in relieve, even with the pressure on his arm still there, as Max’s fingers finally dip underneath the waistband of his bottoms. Max’s hand dips further underneath the fabric and his fingers wrap around his cock loosely, the touch just that little bit too light to really relieve the pressure.

He feels Max’s face press into his shoulder again, the light dusting of stubble scratching at the skin as he presses soft open mouthed kisses there. The pressure of his lips is light, but they leave damp patches as they slowly move closer to his neck, his hand moving over his cock just as slowly. He feels his body relaxing underneath Max’s touch, even though his brain tells him to run, to not let himself be tricked once more. Max does this so well though, manages to trick even his clever brain, until his lips reach the skin behind his ear. One last press of those soft lips and then there the sting of Max’s thumb pressing down against the slit of his cock, digging into the sensitive skin.

There’s a ridiculous sound falling from his lips then, his breath choking up mid-hiss. It’s too much, too much after way too little. The juxtaposition is making his body clench up, freezing up instead of fighting or flying. His muscles go tense, the grip of his fingers on Max’s thigh clenching up, nails digging into the flesh and his breath catching. His mind goes blank, a feeling he usually craves, but it’s too much, too quiet. He doesn’t know how long he stays like that, the phantom pain of Max’s thumb pressing against his cock still there even though the other man has long since stopped pressing down.

“Fuck, babe,” Max hisses out when it doesn’t look like he’s releasing his death grip anytime soon. “Hey, come on, it’s okay, relax,” he continues on softly, his hand wrapping around where Lando’s hand is still digging into his skin, and softly coaxing his grip loose.

He closes his eyes, willing his body to relax as he takes in a deep breath and finally he feels his muscles start to loosen up again, his body sagging back into Max’s chest with another deep breath.

“Shit, sorry.”

“Hey no, don’t. You want me to stop? You really scared me there,” Max asks worry clear in his voice

He takes another deep breath and thinks it over, he should probably stop, but there’s still an itch there. An itch he can’t help but have, even after scaring Max and to be honest himself like that, that needs to be scratched.

“No,” he says resolutely, “Just maybe hold back on the surprises for tonight though.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” He turns his head around far enough so he can look Max in the eyes, to show him he really is sure about this. He nods once and waits for Max to nod back, his gaze never wavering. Max’s eyes flit over his face a few times, seeking out any traces of hesitation on Lando’s face and when he finds none he nods back, slowly.

Max’s hand is firm but soft on his cheek as he closes the gap between them to press a kiss to his lips. It’s slow, mouth dragging open Lando’s own lips as he licks his tongue into his mouth languidly. Max’s tongue licks over his palate, making him moan out and press into the kiss more firmly. He feels Max’s finger tangle into his messy hair then, tugging at it lightly, letting Lando know he’s still up for it as well. It makes a smile tug at his lips, the easy communication between them that’s at the very base of this all, the thing that makes this work so effortlessly.

He licks back into Max’s mouth, their tongues dragging against each other, making saliva cling to his lips. He can’t stop smiling though, all thoughts of the shitty race erased from his mind for the moment and Max is grinning into his mouth right back. Max’s other hand starts to creep back south again slowly, wrapping around his cock firmly. The dry movement makes his body tingle, the feeling just that little bit painful until Max twists his hand over the head and his movement becomes more smooth.      

His mouth falls open into a moan, breaking their kiss. He lets his body sag back into Max’s chest, letting the feeling of Max’s hand moving over him wash over his body. He feels the muscles in Max’s right arm flex with each pull, his other arm wrapped around Lando’s waist, holding him close. Max’s mouth finds his neck again, open mouthed kisses falling to his skin, his tongue lapping up the sweat there.

It’s overwhelming, overwhelming to have someone be so devoted to you, to have his every thought and action be for you and only you. It’s why with just a few of Max’s precise strokes he feels like he’s close to the edge already. Another moan is bubbling up from deep in his stomach, rumbling up his throat and finally falling from his lips. His mouth drops open as he takes in gulps of air, his hips trying to buck up into Max’s hand. Max’s grip around his waist is strong though, keeping him in place.

“Fuck baby, look at you, so desperate already. Does it feel good?” Max’s voice is low and he can feel it rumbling against his back where Max’s chest is pressed against him. He bites at his lip, trying to keep the whimper from falling from his mouth, but it escapes through the cracks anyway. His hands clenching in the sheets as another wave of pleasure washes over him. “Tell me.”

“Fuck, so good,” he says with a whine, his body trying to twist up into the touch again. Max’s movements are slick now, precum making his hand slide easily, the noise of it starting the sound obscene.

“You wanna come? Gonna come for me, baby?      

He’s breathless and so close to coming and his body is begging him not to do this, but he can’t stop his hand when it grips around Max’s wrist and stops its movements. He squeezes his eyes shut tight for a second, trying to stave off the orgasm that was about to rip through him, barely noticing the questioning sound that Max makes behind him.

“No,” he says instead, “Want you to fuck me. Want to feel you on the plane tomorrow.”

“Fuck,” Max breathes out, mouth warm where it presses against his neck. “Let me get my bag.”

He knows what Max means, there’s a fresh bottle of lube sitting there waiting after they finished the other one on Thursday, but it’s not what he wants. He doesn’t want careful fingers pressed into him, stretching him open slowly. That’s not what he meant when he said he wanted to feel Max tomorrow. He wants to really feel him, to be squirming in his plane seat all the way back to England, no matter how plush the first class seats are.

So he holds his grip firm on Max’s wrist, even as the other man tries to move out from behind him. “Stay,” he breathes out.

“Lando.”

“Spit will be fine.”

“It will hurt so fucking much. At least let me make you come first, help you relax?”

What happened earlier was clearly still playing on his mind, a hint of worry staining his words. And God does he loves this man, this beautiful man that cares so much for the people he loves. An aspect of his personality that so few people get to see, something he hides away from the media, the people that try to find cracks in his armour for them to peck at. He keeps it locked away, only opening up that part of him for a select few, and Lando still can’t quite believe he falls into that category.

But he still can’t help but laugh at Max’s words, because of course it will hurt, that’s what he fucking wants. He twists his body around a little so he can look at Max, the grip he had on Max’s wrist slipping free, and he gives him a look that says Really? How long have we been doing this now?

Max rolls his eyes a little. He doesn’t say I just want you to be sure but it’s written all over his face, the way he gnaws at his bottom lip, the slightly worried frown pulling his brows down. He knows Max worries about taking things too far, that he will push Lando too much and break what they have built so carefully, that he doesn’t want to lose this either.

“Milk,” he says without breaking their eye contact, trying to stop the corners of his mouth from pulling up in a teasing grin. It makes Max roll his eyes again, a soft huff of air falling from his lips, still annoyed that they’ve somehow ended up with milk as their safeword.

“I still hate that one!”

“Why?”

“Makes me think bad things everytime you use it on your Instagram posts.”

“Yeah? What kind of bad things?” He says with a teasing smirk, gasping out a burst of air as Max’s finger dig into his hips suddenly. His hands slip further down then, until he’s grabbing a cheek with each hand, his arms straining as he pulls Lando up. He has only just enough time to catch himself as Max pushes him forward until he’s on his hands and knees.

“Like this,” Max says before biting at his arse, his breath hot against his skin as he inches closer to the crack between his cheeks. He can’t help but moan out as Max’s fingers dig into the flesh, pulling the cheeks apart until he feels hot air against his hole.  

He’s expecting the drag of a tongue over his hole next, but instead he’s left aching, his hole clenching tightly as Max’s hands leave his arse and instead fall to the waistband of the joggers that are still clinging onto his thighs. The fabric is finally pulled free from his legs along with Max’s own pants. Max’s hand presses against his lower back to get him on his belly, his hands moving onto his thighs next, pushing and pulling at his legs until he has Lando right how he wants him.

He yelps out as suddenly there’s the sharp sting of Max’s hand on his left arsecheek, his fingers running over the imprint it leaves behind, admiring his handiwork. It’s the furthest he’ll go with this, Lando knows, slaps and hits not usually their thing. And sure enough Max’s hand doesn’t pull back for another smack, instead he clenches the fingers into the flesh of each cheek, pulling them apart once more. His hole flutters against the air, anticipation running through his veins as he waits for Max’s next move.

Lips find his lower back, pressing against the dip there, licking over each mole they come across until they’re finally at his crack. Teeth nip at his cheeks again before finally, finally those plump lips press against his hole, tongue slipping out slowly. The wet pressure of Max’s tongue feels amazing, sending a shiver up his body. He’s good at this to, his mouth warm and wet as it slides over Lando, making him press his body back against the flat of his tongue when it drags over him. Max draws lazy circles with his tongue, making saliva start to drip down his teint and onto his heavy balls, before he points it, making his tongue go as stiff as he can as he pushes it against the ring of muscles. He sighs out at the feeling, his body going rigid for a second before recognising the intrusion for what it is and relaxing against the strong muscle of Max’s tongue.  

There’s a few more drags and pushes of his tongue, the movements slowly making his muscles relax and opening up more and more and then all of a sudden it’s gone, the heat of Max’s mouth leaving him, his hole fluttering against the empty air. And he can’t help but whine, his body wriggling up into where Max’s hands are still holding onto him firmly. He expects a ‘Stay still’ or another ‘Look at you’  to come from Max, but he stays quiet, almost eerily so, the only sound he can hear from him the even breaths he takes in through his nose.

He waits and waits, waits for him to do something until finally he can’t take it anymore and looks back over his shoulder at Max, and fuck he looks like the epitome of a pornstar. There’s a line of spit dangling from his lips, falling down slowly, his eyes focussed on where he’s spreading Lando’s cheeks open, making sure his aim is correct. Lando continues watching him as the spit drops lower and lower until finally the string breaks. His eyes fall shut as he feels it fall onto his skin, his hole clenching against it before Max gathers it up with his thumb and presses it into him slowly.

Max’s thumb slips in with little resistance, his mouth having worked him open enough for it to press passed the ring of muscle easily. Max presses the digit down against the walls inside of him, his teeth nipping at his skin with a bite, before he sits back up again and pulls his thumb away from him. He leans forward, his chest pressing against Lando’s back as he balances himself on one hand and presses the pointer and middle finger of his other hand against Lando’s lips. He lets them fall open easily, his tongue licking over each thick finger and wetting them.

He can feel Max’s arousal press against his arse with how he’s leaning over him now, his mouth working over the skin of Lando’s neck, the sound of a groan vibrating against his skin as Max presses himself against him. He presses back into the other man, urging him on, wanting to feel his cock press into him already but knows he needs to wait for fingers first. And Max doesn’t need any more encouragement, the muscles in his arms bulging up for a moment as he pushes himself away from Lando.

Wet fingers press against him then, his body giving way to the pressure easily. Max’s fingers scissor open inside of him, slowly opening him up more and more as his fingers run dry again. Fingers ease out to just the tip and he hears the wet sound of spit being pushed from Max’s lips, before they press back in again, a third finger joining them. It’s a stinging ache, the wide stretch making him grit his teeth, his body pushing back against the intrusion to ease the slide of fingers. Max stretches him open carefully, trying to ease the tip of a fourth finger in when Lando’s body relaxes into his touch. And he just wants his cock, to feel the wide stretch of it inside of him, that all consuming feeling of being connected like that.

“Come on,” he grits out, pressing back into Max’s touch, urging him on, letting him know he’s ready.    

There’s one more press of fingers into him and then Max slowly eases them out, shushing Lando’s whimpers as he clenches up against the empty feeling. He twists his head back to look up at Max, the other man’s hand raised to his lips, more spit getting pushed onto it with a wet sound before Max twists his hand around his straining cock.

“You ready?” Max asks, eyes focussed on Lando’s as he shuffles forward a little more, a fist around his cock for him to guide it into Lando as soon as he has his confirmation. So he nods slowly, eyes determined as he does so, keeping them on Max as he pushes his hips forward and presses his cock against him. He pushes in slowly, so slow, the pressure against his hole building little by little, and Lando can’t help but let his head fall back down again, hung low between his shoulders as he tries his best to keep himself upright, the sensation overwhelming.  

It hurts, it fucking hurts, even with Max’s fingers having worked him open, but finally the head of Max’s cock squeezes passed the ring of muscles, the widest part of him snug inside now. He feels so much bigger than normal like this, Max’s cock dragging against his insides as he continues to press forward, the spit barely easing the slide. Max inches in deeper slowly, shushing each of his whimpers with soft kisses against his skin and words of encouragement until finally he’s pressed into him right to the hilt. His mouth falls open in a choked up gasp and it’s only then that he realises how hard he’d been biting at his lip, the tang of iron on his taste buds as his tongue connects with his ruined lips.

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight,” Max groans out, his voice a low rumble.

He can’t stop the keen that forms on his lips, the sound bursting out as he takes in the sensation of Max stretching him open. “Fuck Max, fuck it hurts,” he says at the same time he closes his hand over Max’s hip to keep him close, telling Max that he can handle it. Max’s sweaty forehead falls against the back of his neck, a soft hum resonating against his skin as he keeps close and lets Lando get used to the feeling.

He waits for his body to relax a little more, to get used to the feeling of Max stretching him open and then relaxes his grip on Max’s hip, his hand falling back to the bed instead and fingers tangling around Max’s beside him. He squeezes once and feels Max press a kiss against his neck, his hips inching back ever so slightly. It still hurts and the feeling of Max stretching him open with just the tip of his cock, feeling both empty and full, draws a confused little sound from him, his brain not knowing yet whether it likes this or not. But then Max pushes back in, parting his walls once more, and pleasure is starting to seep in along with the pain, the urge to press back into the intrusion rather than pull back starting to win out.

Max’s rhythm stays slow, his mouth pressed below his ear, sucking and biting on the tender skin there in between words of praise.

“You’re doing so well, taking my cock so good baby. Fuck you’re tight, feels like you’ve never been fucked before, like you’re all for me, just me,” Max groans, words more of a ramble now as his hips pick up a little more speed. “Does it feel good, hmm?”

“So. Good,” he chokes out, his head pressing into the pillow beneath him as his arms start to give out, but Max’s arm wrapping around his chest is strong, keeping him from completely falling into the soft sheets. The fabric of the pillow feels foreign against his tongue as he clenches his teeth into it, his whimpers turning into moans as they rumble up his throat.

“Let me hear you baby, lemme know how good I’m making you feel huh.”

He spits the fabric back out of his mouth, his head pressing against the wet spot now as he lets out a loud keen, following Max’s orders. By now the slide of Max inside of him is more pleasure than pain, Max’s precum making the slide a little smoother. He can feel Max trying to find his prostate, the angle of his trust changing ever so slightly, until he lets out a frustrated groan and draws his body away from Lando. With Max’s arm slipping away from his chest his upper body collapses against the bed, his fingers twisting into the sheets as the change in position makes him feel even more. Max’s hands wrap around his hips tightly, the nails of his fingers digging into the skin as he thrusts forward again, trying to find the right angle once more.

It takes just two more thrusts and then finally he pushes in just right, the tip of his head hitting that magical spot inside of him, making him gasp in a breath of air before a loud moan falls from his lips. It feels so good, the last remnants of pain seeping away now as Max keeps pressing in at the right angle. “Yes, just like that Max, just like that. Fuck!”

He twists his head to the side, his cheek connecting with the pillow now instead, breathing in air that isn’t dry and cloyed with the scent of fabric softener. He can see Max from the corner of his eye like this, his head gone red from exertion, mouth hanging open a little. Their eyes meet again, a smile that’s too tender for what they’re doing right now spreading on Max’s face, before something wicked comes over his face instead. With one last squeeze of his fingers around his hips Max shifts his position again, one of his hands leaving his hip to reach for Lando’s face instead. He runs his thumb over Lando’s still tender lip softly, before he brushes away some sweaty hair from his forehead, the touches such a juxtaposition to what he knows is coming. He can already feel Max’s heavy palm resting against his face, the weight of his body pressing him down against the pillow.    

He doesn’t have to wait long, Max’s broad hand spanning the whole side of his face, the tips of his fingers scratching against his hairline as he presses his face down into the pillow roughly. He closes his eyes and really takes in the feeling. Of the soft pillowcase beneath his cheek, the slightly callused tips of Max’s fingers, the way his thumb curls over his jaw, the pressure of it firm as Max continues to fuck him. And fuck he’s already getting so close, his cock bouncing up against his stomach with each of Max’s thrusts, he could probably come untouched, the slap of his cock against his stomach enough to tip him over the edge.

“Close,” he moans, his voice muffled as he struggles to move his jaw underneath the pressure of Max’s hand, his lips brushing against Max’s palm as he speaks. The warning barely tumbles from his lips in time, the rough jerk of Max’s hips at his words tipping him over the edge. His orgasms rips through him almost painfully, like coming untouched always does, cum spurting out over his stomach and dripping down onto the sheets, making his body feel like tiny fires are lit up underneath his skin.

“Fuck, fuck,” he hears Max’s groan filter through the ringing in his ears, the clenching of his body sucking Max into him even tighter. The slide of Max’s cock inside of him is starting to hurt though, his body going over-sensitive quickly, a soft whimper falling from his lips.

Another pained sound from him has Max halt, his hand drawing away from his face and brushing down his back softly as he slips out of him. He knows Max must’ve been so close, but even in the throes of pleasure he knows when to stop, that the pained sound Lando let out wasn’t like the ones in the midst of their plays. And he can’t stop the stinging of tears at the corners of his eyes, the love he feels for this man is overwhelming, the trust between them so effortless.

Max’s hand is a blur as it moves over his cock, pulling him towards his own release, a low grunt the only signal that he’s coming, his hips jerking reflexively before he feels the splash of warm spunk against his arse and across his lower back. Max’s breathing is heavy, his forehead pressing into the back of Lando’s neck for a second, before he whispers stay into his skin, drawing away from him and stumbling off the bed, shushing the needy sound Lando can’t keep in.

He lets his body sag into the bed, still splayed awkwardly with his arse up in the air, but he can’t get himself to move, exhaustion settling in as he lets his eyes fall shut for a moment, letting the quiet wash over him. Max isn’t gone for long, the soft shuffle of his feet making Lando blink his eyes back open. There’s a wet cloth in his hands as he kneels back onto the bed, the brush of the warm fabric soft against his skin as Max wipes away their mess. His hands are so gentle as he slowly pulls his legs down to the bed, before he carefully turns him over onto his back away from the soiled spot of the sheets and wipes away the mess on his stomach. And he can’t stop the tears from falling this time, everything so overwhelming, the gentle caress from Max’s fingers, the absolute exhaustion, the ache in his arse and the quiet in his head.

“Hey, don’t cry. Did I hurt you?” Max asks worriedly.

He quickly shakes his head, chokes out no , and watches the frown between Max’s brows smooth over again. Max lets himself fall down onto the bed next to him, throwing the cloth over his shoulder, before pulling Lando close. He brushes away the tears from his eyes, a soft smile on his face as does so. “You really okay?”

“Yeah, perfect.”